#bee begs for spencer reid

[reidmania]

yeah.. bad..

[reiderwriter]

💫 Starry-Eyed 💫

Pairing: Porn Star! Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Summary: For work experience, you take a job working the cameras on a porn shoot, but after becoming suddenly attracted to a new coworker, you shortly find yourself as a fluffer, the person whose job it is to keep the "talent" aroused between takes.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Porn AU, College AU kinda, exhibitionism, oral sex (f receiving), consensual voyeurism, masturbation (male), blow job, deep throating, messy orgasm.

A/N: Well, look at where we are. I think this actually counts as my first Alternate Universe fic, which is crazy all things considered. I'm really enjoying the Kink Bingo Challenge as it's leading me to so many new ideas for fics!! I hope you all enjoy this one 🥰

Masterlist || Bingo Board

Being a college student still at age 25 meant many things, but mostly, it meant you had friends at many different stages of their lives. Some were fresh out of high school halls, enjoying their first taste of freedom, some were enjoying their first drops of alcohol. Some were giving up alcohol for good and starting families. 

Some of them were successful porn stars who'd funded their own start-up porn production company. It certainly was one way to use a film degree. You knew a professor or two who would enjoy her work more than half your syllabus as well. 

Candi Rapper had become famous doing cam shows in her first year of college and had gone all-in after graduation. You'd shared a few classes in the early days, before you took a break from college for financial reasons, of course. By the time you'd gone back, she was a big time and now in the position to offer you a job. 

“One of my crews is down a cameraman this weekend. If you're open to it, I pay a fair wage?” she'd offed at your weekly brunch. 

“Will you be the star?” You joked back with her. 

“You wish.” 

You took the job, of course, along with a ride from Candi (her name was Kate, but you'd let her pretend) and pulled up on site bright and alert at 7am. 

The set was a large mansion - typical, Candi said - and you'd be mostly shooting in the living room - typical, Candi said. You'd had to tell her after her second typical that you were, in fact, an adult and had seen at least one porno before until she cut out pornsplaining everything to you. She introduced you to the key staff and the director, and they got you set up at your camera. 

“The shoot today is going to be around 5 hours. You'll be on camera three. The papers in front have your cues and directions. You can have some free time until we start. There's a breakfast spread in the kitchen, help yourself.”

Not one to turn down free food, you bee-lined there and stood awkwardly in line for the coffee with the dozen or so other crew members, eyeing up the take-out pancakes organised across the granite surface. 

“Your first time?” An older man asked from behind you, smiling in a friendly manner. 

“You can tell?” 

“You're thinking about eating the pancakes, and the rest of us are remembering the scene filmed there last weekend," as if on queue, a shiver ran down his spine. "Yeah, we can tell.” You laughed along with the man's joke and finally grabbed your coffee. 

Luck just wasn't on your side, though, as you turned and immediately ran into someone immediately sloshing the coffee onto your shirt. 

“Oh my god, I am so - I'm so sorry, I need to watch where I'm going.” 

You'd run into 6’3” of lanky, awkward male perfection. He looked young, your age or younger most likely, and was fidgeting as he stood, the most obviously uncomfortable person in the building.

Your first thought was “Is he lost?” closely followed by “Can I beg him to get lost in a linen closet somewhere with me?” 

He grabbed a handful of tissues from the counter nearby and began attempting to wipe away the coffee you'd spilt down yourself, completely unaware that he was fondling your breasts in his haste to do so. 

“Slow down there, tiger, shoot doesn't start for another half hour,” you said, winking at him as you took the tissues from his panicked hands and dried yourself as best you could. 

“I know, I memorised the call sheet. Who are you?” His question was blunt, but you weren't taken aback at all, your smile even deepening as you enjoyed his subtle attention. 

“I'm Y/N. It's my first time.” 

He spluttered, coming up with an answer to that, and you immediately cursed yourself for the slip. 

“My first time on set, not my- I'm 25. Not that age determines experience per say but-”

“I'm 22. And my name is Spencer,” he said, grasping your hand and shaking it. 

“So, it's your first time on set?” He asked, relaxing more into the conversation as he stepped closer to you, letting the other staff members come and go from the kitchen. 

“Yeah. My friend offered me the job, you know Candi?” 

He nodded but didn't speak, so you continued. 

“She thought the experience would be good for me. And the cash. Gotta put myself through college somehow, and it was this or stripping.” 

He laughed, and you felt a flash of warmth in your stomach, a familiar hunger spreading across your lower body. Maybe it was just the atmosphere of the set, but the air was charged with arousal. 

“Well, you're certainly attractive enough to do both jobs. I'm sure the camera is going to love you,” he said, sounding so genuine and enthusiastic that you almost felt bad you had to correct him.

“Oh! Oh, no, Spencer, I'm not - I'm, uh, I'm going to be behind the camera. Behind camera number two.” 

His face instantly flushed, and you thought you saw a pang of disappointment there for a second, too. The thought of him being disappointed made your skin heat, that he'd been looking forward somehow to watching you get fucked? Your cunt throbbed and suddenly, you found you did wish to display yourself, to let everyone see if it meant that he got to.

“I am so sorry. I didn't - I thought… No, I didn't think, I… I'll shut up now, please excuse me-” 

“No, Spencer, wait-” 

You tried to call after him, but he sent you an embarrassed smile and walked off in haste, leaving you behind as the director called people to their places. 

You were still flushed with arousal as you moved to your station, getting your camera ready for filming. You were distracted even as the scene started, and the female actress came on set, already stripped down to her underwear and touching herself, teasing the camera. 

Surprisingly, you found the work easy enough, too busy focusing on the settings and the gaze of the camera to even care about what was going on down the lens. She was moaning and writhing and gasping sure, to the benefit of the cameras, and although strangely intimate, nobody in the room seemed bothered, so neither did you. 

Or neither did you until the actual scenario started, and your actress got ‘caught’ doing the dirty by the needy boy next door. You hadn't looked at the call sheet closely enough as Spencer peeped through the door to the bedroom, entering the scene not by accident but as a scripted part of the show. 

Your eyes bulged out of your head as you immediately looked down to your prompt sheet to find his name there. 

LEAD ACTOR: SPENCER REID

His stage name was scribbled next to that, but you paid it no attention as you steadied your camera again and got to filming seriously again. 

The actress had pulled his glasses off and led him to the bed, letting him keep on his sweater vest and tie as she pulled his head between her legs, and he started doing his job. 

Even from your view to the side of him, you could tell this wasn't his first time doing that. His tongue spread across the expanse of her heat, first, letting her grind into his face, getting comfortable before he snaked a hand up to her stomach and held her in place for as long as he so desired.

Then, he rolled her clit into his mouth and sucked. The fake moans and whimpers suddenly became real as you saw the sheer skill of his tongue ripple through the woman's body. 

You couldn't even be jealous at this point, despite how much you sorely wished that were you on the bed. Surely no girl had resorted to porn out of pure horny desire before, right? 

After a while of letting her gasp and moan under his tongue, Spencer's fingers curled inside the other woman as well. The director called cut, and he kept his fingers there, even as they walked him through the next few shots, and instructed him to unzip his pants in the next few clips. 

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself as the cameras started rolling again, and he did finally free himself from his tight khakis. 

You knew you'd probably sign up for whatever was on offer at this company next to see that gift again. Spencer wasn't an impressive size or girth, nothing so alien or out of the ordinary that it only belonged in porn. It was just that his cock looked so… pretty. 

He was an inch or two longer than any man you'd ever been with, you were sure, but his cock seemed to have an air of dignity about it. 

You had to stop yourself at that thought. Dignity? Really? You were working part-time on a porn set, and there was suddenly dignity involved? 

You rolled your shoulders back and tried to find your earlier unbothered attitude. But with his cock in his hands and his face slick with female arousal, you really couldn't bring yourself to think about anything less than his fingers roughly finger-fucking you. 

You tried to close your eyes to it, to be blind, but the wet, sticky sounds only distracted you  and you found yourself soon swaying, swaying, swaying until you had to catch yourself before the camera dropped. 

With a shout of “yes, baby, yes,” the female star came on his face, sending up a furret of fluids as he just kept diligently stroking his cock, only stopping at the director's final yell of “CUT.”

“Perfect guys, let's get her up and drinking water again. You need to stay hydrated after all that,” he joked, a PA walking over to pass the actress a robe and a bottle of water as she walked off set. 

You relaxed for a second, trying to find your quickest route out of the room so you wouldn't have to drool over the man's cock so obviously any more. 

“FLUFFER? Where's the fluffer?” The director yelled, looking around for someone who obviously wasn't there yet. 

“Well?”

Still, no one arrived to do whatever job they needed doing, and you felt desperate for escape. 

“New girl, would you mind?” Some crew member called out from the sidelines, nodding at you. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you said, hoping that whatever job you agreed to would get you far enough from this room and the heat between your legs as possible. You were not a prude, and you would not bolt from your very first film shoot. 

“Great, get on the bed and keep the boy company,” the director said before exiting the room. 

You were absolutely on board with becoming a prude and bolting the scene as fast as your legs could carry you. Unfortunately, eight people still sat around, monitoring equipment and chatting on their breaks, and so you were forced to comply with the task. 

“We meet again,” you greeted the man stiffly as you found him on the bed, an apprehensive, tight smile on his own face.

“You don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable, I can keep myself… occupied.” 

You noticed then that his hand was still wrapped around his cock, giving it slow strokes, not enough to tip him over the edge, but just enough to maintain the erection. 

“So the fluffer….?” 

“Prepares the actors for the next scene? I need to stay- let say in shape.” 

His face flushed crimson as your gaze slipped down to his cock in his hand. 

“So you want me to-” 

“NO. No, I usually only talk to the Fluffers. Look at them, you know?” 

You nodded and found yourself suddenly going still, watching his face contort with pleasure as his eyes raked over your chest and legs. 

You couldn't help but let your eyes dart south again, and fuck did you wish you hadn't. His spare hand fisted the sheets as he stroked himself gently, practically taunting himself with the light touch. 

“You do this often?” you asked, trying to pretend you were open to having a normal conversation even while your brain begged you to climb into his lap and sink down as fast as you could. 

“You mean maaturbate or the porn thing?” 

“Porn.” 

“No. No, I come in for a shoot every few months. One of these shoots tends to fund another semester of my PhD, so-” 

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were impressed by that admission, but your predominate thought was still “shit, shit, shit, shit.” 

“That's impressive,” you said, only catching your words as they tripped out of your mouth. “THE PHD! The PhD, I mean not your… penis? Not that it isn’t appealing, or- or-.” 

You tried your hardest to use the most clinical word you could, distancing yourself from the honeyed words you so wanted to drop in his ear to get him to crawl further up the bed and entice him to make his own scene with you. 

“Thank you. It's my third,” he said, slightly more relaxed now that you were the flustered one. 

“PhD that is. Not cock. I only have one of these.” 

“One is enough,” you say, unable to stop the words tumbling out as your eyes again find themselves following each pump of his hand up and down his cock. Inwardly, you curse your friend for starting up her stupid business and paying you to simply exist in the same hemisphere as this man without being able to ride him. 

“Do you want to touch it?” He asked, blurting the words out suddenly. As if God had answered your prayers, your heart leapt up into your throat, your pussy clenching around nothing as you shifted your hips closer to him. 

You'd thought then that you'd quite enjoy bouncing on that thing yourself, but a handshake would have to do.

“So you have to stay hard, but-” 

“But it's best I don't cum, yeah.”

“Okay. Noted.”

Slowly, you reached out a hand and gently wrapped each finger around the tip of his cock. He released himself and wrapped his now free hand around yours, setting the pace for you quickly as he engaged you in conversation again. 

“So, where are you from?” He asked, as inept at small talk as you felt in that second. 

You answered him without a fuss and returned the question. Las Vegas. That seemed to check out with how easily he'd broken into porn. There was always something happening in that city. 

"How'd you get into the business?"

"Well, Vegas, you know. A producer saw a group of... street ladies offer me a freebie and gave me his card."

You went back and forth on questions like that for a few minutes before you noticed he was coughing every few seconds to mask moans and groans, evidently too into this to request you stop. 

“Is it okay to…Can I touch you?” He asked, sounding very afraid of rejection at that second. 

“Oh, um, yes. That'd only be fair, right?” 

He ran a hand up your waist to the curve of your breast and pressed his fingers into one, digging into the skin as though it were a pillow, and he was testing it before he fell head first into it. 

Maybe that was just wishful thinking, though. 

Temporarily, you let go of him, popping the front buttons of your blouse until he could freely see all of your black and red bra, and feast on the tops of your dusty nipples, peaking out just above each cup.

You heard him inhale sharply, even as he tried to hide it, but you didn't care, too transfixed on the precum decorating his tip. 

“Would you mind-” You started, but cut yourself off quickly, biting your lower lip. 

“Mind?” 

“Can I suck it?”

You didn't know where it came from because there were probably half a dozen other people still in the room, and mostly men. But dear god, he looked delicious, and you wanted just a little sample. 

“Fuck yes,” he said, finally giving in and letting out a whole gust of breath as he slumped down a bit further, no longer holding himself rigid. “No, no, actually, please do. I'm begging, I'll beg-” 

You cut him off by pushing yourself to your knees and crawling in between his, and seconds later, you were licking the length of his cock from the base of his balls all the way to that precious drop of precum. 

Hard, but no cumming. You could do that. You'd never done it before, preferring to fully pleasure sexual partners any chance you got, but there was no time like the present to start learning. 

Slowly, you wrapped your lips around his tip and sank down, taking one inch, then another, and then another. When you reached the base of his cock, you pushed that little bit further down, calming yourself and going slowly so you didn't gag, nose pushing into his neat public hair before pulling away just as slowly and doing it again. 

You took him as deep down your throat as you could manage, and suddenly, it was like everything that kept your conversation casual and civil earlier had flown out the door. He threw his head back, fisted his hand in your hair, and moaned deep. 

The sound shook you so much you almost pushed a hand into your own underwear and started fucking yourself, needing to prepare yourself for him like a good girl. 

Around you, you could hear signs of the shoot starting back up again, people finding their places, still all but ignoring you deep-throating a porn star. 

Spencer's breaths grew more rapid as you sucked him, hips becoming restless as he tried to lift up into your mouth, hand in your hair tightening as you realised your mistake. 

You pulled off his cock and grasped it again, stroking it slowly, but it was too late. With a sharp moan and a twitch of his hips, Spencer so prettily decorated your chin and chest. His cum dripped down your face, hitting your cleavage and pushing further down to stain your nice black laced underwear white.

“Fuck! Sorry, I wasn't meant to do that, let me get some - Can I get a towel please? A baby wipe? Some tissue, anything?” His voice was panicked, but his hand on your head relaxed, and he brushed your hair gently behind your ear, as if comforting you. 

He was panicked, for sure, but the crew calmly handed him everything he needed, as if they'd been in anticipation of just this thing happening. You supposed they probably were, this being a porn set. You were sure you were supposed to clean yourself up, but instead, he grabbed a wet tissue, leaving the pack just out of your reach.

He managed to clean your face off a bit before the director returned to the room with a laugh. Running a hand through his hair and messing it up slightly, the director turned back to you.

“We're five minutes out from shoot time,” he said, shaking his head. You started to apologise, but he stopped you with a hand. 

“New girl, work whatever magic you just did and get him hard again. Five minutes.” 

“W-What?” You spluttered, trying your best to rise from your knees, but ultimately failing. You were either stiff from the position or just weak with arousal. 

“He just came, I don't think I can-”

“10 pictures I've done with that kid, and I haven't seen him cum that quickly ever before in my life. And certainly not just for some kitten licks. Do it.”

You turned back to Spencer, his cum still trickling down your chest, creating an almost uncomfortable stiffness as it dried up. 

“Pleasure working with you?” You said, not-so-secretly ecstatic that you got to sample him once more. 

“I'll be in your care,” he replied, as you begin softly kissing the head of his cock again, tipping his head back again and losing himself in the pleasure or your tongue.

[radiant-reid]

okay but a blurb with baby spence (i’m talking like he just joined the bau and barely talks to them he’s so shy) and one day his absolutely gorgeous pregnant wife comes to see him and everyone is just so shocked because this guy?? has a pregnant wife?? and they’re also shocked that he pulled her cause she’s so beautiful

this has been my nightly scenario for the past like two days

- 🍓

hot wife!reader >>>>> i'm still on that shit. also this is so cute because then Jack and baby Reid could be besties

No one knows much about Spencer Reid. He's timid, but he's good at profiling and he gets his paperwork done so no one's complaining.

Despite what you told him about how everyone would love him, he feels like he's not fitting in like he's in a lab at Caltech and he's the only student with no one to be his lab partner.

He's nervous when Derek extends the invitation to a night out at the bar to include him. The little joke about whether he'd actually get served or if his baby face was too young helps assure Spencer it's casual, that they're on their way to becoming friends.

"Please come with me." He begs as soon as he's home. His head is resting on your shoulder as you face the TV. He prefers your lap but your bump is a little too big for it to be comfortable.

"I'm not sure I'll make a very good drinking buddy." You joke, pointing at the reason you can't drink.

He laughs slightly, the purest sound. "I just mean- it would be good for you to meet the team."

You agree with that. The BAU is dangerous and dark, and it would be good to know who's taking care of your husband.

Plus, you'll do almost anything he asks. "Sure."

So you get dressed up a little. Nothing too fancy, and no heels since your feet look like they've been stung by a bee. Spencer insists you're the most beautiful person in the world before dragging you off and into the warm night. A summer baby you're having.

You're not sure what to expect. To your knowledge, Spencer hasn't told the team he has a wife, much less that he's having a baby.

He stops in front of a table, and you squeeze his hand for reassurance. "Hi, everyone, this is my wife, Y/n." He introduces you.

They're surprised, shocked even with matching raised eyebrows and slacked jaws. The looks aren't new, and neither is the math they're doing when they look at Spencer. He barely looks 18, much less a married, soon-to-be father.

"Wow, we didn't even know there was a Mrs. Reid." An attractive guy says, shaking your hand. "I'm Derek Morgan."

"And a soon-to-be baby Reid." One of the women says excitedly. She pulls you in for a hug, which has become awkward with the size of your stomach. "Any time you need someone to watch him or her, I'm here. I'm Penelope, by the way."

You chuckle, nodding your head appreciatively. Easiest childcare you've found yet. The rest of the team is just as welcoming, shaking your hand and telling you their names. Spencer's less jittery by your side, and he's all smiles when he walks off to get you both drinks, even though he knows you're probably telling stories about the awkwardness of the start of your relationship. He's not phased by it anymore, he got the girl.

[gaysullengirl]

𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫. 𝐯𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

❝ do you get deja vu, when she's with you? ❞

- deja vu, olivia rodrigo

Isabelle wore a wine red dress that was tight fitting on top and had a short flowy skirt- which concealed her gun easily.

She ordered some water's while Emily found a table, when she walked back she noticed Viper talking to Emily.

Isabelle walked to the table "Hi, Viper" Isabelle said flirtatiously, if Isabelle was an expert in anything it was playing men just like a violin.

"You promised if we met you on your turf, you'd show us something special." Emily smiled.

"Yeah, Viper, who gets pushed and who gets pulled tonight?" Isabelle asked and his eyes widened.

"Here let me show you." He spoke, attempting to re-gain his confidence, "You see, eye contact is a very powerful gauge."

"It's why you tend to look away from someone you're attracted to, because you know instinctively what a dead giveaway it is, but your brain goes there anyway, images, fantasies."

Isabelle laughed, "Don't flatter yourself."

"The eyes don't lie, they dilate, it's a chemical response, we can't control it."

After Isabelle's eyes didn't dilate whatsoever he moved to Emily, "Come on, do it, are you scared your eyes might dilate?" he teased.

"No, Paul, I'm baffled, I cannot figure out what the unsub could have learned from you." Emily said.

"What do you mean? He took my look, my words, everything that makes me successful to the opposite sex." He defended himself.

"Really? Because that guy can get beautiful women into his apartment." Emily provoked him even more.

"I wouldn't even let you on my facebook." Isabelle  deadpans. 

Emily Smiled, "Oh you have facebook? I'll follow you."

"Thanks-" Viper cut Isabelle off.

"Hey, hey, hey! I gave him-" "Shh" Isabelle cut him off. "Why'd you interrupt me? can you not stand the attention being on someone else for a second?"

"We've been watching all the women in the club and not one of them has looked at you, so who do you really go home with, Paul?" Isabelle asked in an innocent tone.

"Or- or do you go home alone?" Emily frowned, faking sadness.

"That was really good, ladies, that was really good, don't you think I know why you're here?" he asked.

"One of my students copies my moves, and you're here to get inside my mind, don't you see? I confronted my queen bee a long time ago." He raised his voice.

"What's a queen bee?" Isabelle furrowed her brows.

"You are." He exclaimed, pointing a finger at her.

"Every student who's ever taken my class has had one in his life, and the first exercise my students have to complete is to confront their queen bee."

"It could be the girl who cheated on you, the prom date who stood you up, you find them and you squash them." Emily and Isabelle shared a look before they walked toward the club's exit.

Isabelle saw Spencer talking to a bartender, she noticed him point to the women's ear and she grabbed a piece of paper from her hair.

Isabelle was pissed to say the least, not only was he flirting on the job but he was also using the same tactic he had used with her.

"Hey Em, I have to go to the bathroom really quick." she walked into the bathroom urgently.

Isabelle silently begged herself not to cry, she knew everyone would assume she's weak if she started crying. 

Isabelle took a few deep breaths and left the bathroom, her and Emily exit the club to find Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Reid waiting for them.

Isabelle brushed passed Spencer, purposefully knocking her shoulder against his.

"What was that for?"

"You're fine, if it really hurts maybe you should go get your girlfriend to comfort you" Isabelle spit angrily and kept walking.

"Girlfriend?"

"Really Spencer? flirting on a case?" Isabelle turned to face him.

"You were too" he argued, Isabelle scoffed "Because that's what I was assigned to do."

"No, I could tell you actually like him, you we're actually flirting." He elaborated.

Isabelle just stared at him, 'is he being for real?' was all she could thin, "Spencer that was fake flirting."

"Really? cause it seemed real." He admitted, sounding hurt.

"God! you're such a hypocrite, are you hearing yourself? You're upset because I was 'flirting' with viper while you're giving a random bartender your number? with the same tactic you used on me might I add. Come on Spencer you have an eidetic memory and you're seriously forgetting how we met?" She shouted.

Spencer's eyes started to water, "No, but i'm still a little blurry on how we broke up,  you said you wanted to break up then the next day you're gone, I mean did I even mean anything to you?"

Isabelle didn't want to have this conversation with him—ever, but especially not in front of her new coworkers, so she turned around and started walking toward the suv.  

"Go fuck your self, Isa!" He shouted.

If anyone dared to speak to Isabelle the way Spencer was she would turn around punch them, shoot them, then bury them six feet under and never be caught, but since it was Spencer she didn't.

Isabelle just quietly got in the suv.

authors note!

thank you sm for reading!! <33

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 6)

Summary: Derek tries to give Spencer advice, and Bunny and Spencer try to ride out the storm. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Allusions to sexual thoughts/desires, brief mention of Lolita and teacher crushes Word Count: 7k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

—————————————————

It had been twenty four hours, and I could still feel her. I’d never stopped feeling her. Her lips had scalded me, scarring every inch of where she’d kissed me. Even my heart was poisoned by the taste of her, having changed its tune in a way that felt permanent.

The feeling alone would have been survivable. Manageable, even. But that was not the only way she infiltrated my innermost thoughts.

‘Professor,’ she’d pleaded with her voice crackling like a bush fire that swallowed honeysuckles that refused to burn quietly, ‘Please.’

I wondered what she would have said, what she would have begged for if her words hadn’t been interrupted by the gentle, broken sounds of her pleasure. I wondered how close she must have been to crumbling like dried petals between my fingers.

That look in her eyes, although barely visible, haunted me. Because there was nothing that even slightly resembled fear or regret. It was only lust, the same unimaginable, all-consuming desire that I felt, reflected back at me through her eyes.

I tasted the fine wine on a sweet, youthful tongue. A reminder that she was too naive to know her own limits. That she would unwittingly drown in the honey of herself. The cloying sweetness of her lips that couldn’t close; too busy singing my praise, just as I’d dreamed that they would.

She was everything I dreamed she would be.

And I couldn’t have her ever again.

“Reid! Earth to Spencer Reid!”

The call came with a soft thwack to the side of my head, and I realized just how far I’d fallen into the fantasy.

Derek was looking at me like I’d sprouted a second, and possibly third, head as he asked, “What the hell is going on in there?”

“What? I’m sorry,” I mumbled nonsensically before adding on what should have been obvious, “Sorry, sorry. I’m just... distracted.”

I thought that withholding any further explanation would be the safer bet, but I shouldn’t have underestimated Derek Morgan’s profiling skills. The time away from the BAU seemed to have only sharpened them, and with just a single glance at my nervous, fidgety figure, his shoulders dropped.

“Oh, no,” he groaned, “Don’t tell me...”

“Please, stop,” I whined, because I knew what was coming.  

“You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t sleep with little miss Bunny.”

“No,” I quickly and gruffly corrected, “I didn’t sleep with her.”

But again, he was too sharp to let the nuance slide unnoticed. I’d already confirmed his concerns that she was the focus of my torment, although I doubt he really needed me to say it. The fact that I corrected him so narrowly only led him down an even worse collection of possibilities.

“Don’t lie to me, kid,” he warned.  

“I didn’t sleep with her!” I repeated louder, as if it would absolve the pit in my stomach or stop my best friend from looking at me like that. With eyes full of both sympathy and frustration at just how stupid I could be.

I gave a heavy sigh of resignation and covered my face with my hands. It seemed easier to reveal the truth that way.

“I just... we might have... kissed.”

“You kissed?” he scoffed, clearly recognizing that I was still leaving out the details that plagued my thoughts.

It was too humiliating to get into all of my indiscretions at the moment, though. He could already tell that I was a wreck — I didn’t need to put any visuals in his mind of myself nor the young girl I’d robbed of at least one petal.

“And maybe some other stuff,” I muttered, vividly recalling just how beautiful she looked as she called for me.

How her thighs were so warm and inviting, and how her lips trembled with every moan. I could feel her body shaking, struggling to comprehend just how harshly I handled her. I wanted to be gentle, I did, but she was just so fucking pliable, so impressionable and prone to defilement, I couldn’t help myself.

“God, I’m so stupid,” I groaned, my hands tugging on the same hair her hands had run through, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You like her. That’s not a bad thing,” Derek tried to reason.

He didn’t understand. How could he? With hands that were clean and capable of love?

“It is a bad thing! I can’t— I can’t like her!”

Although rattled by the volume with which I’d spoken, he didn’t let it dissuade him from finding and addressing the issue at the root of it all.

“Why? Is there some rule against you two being together?”

“No.”

That wasn’t the problem.

“So why not? She clearly likes you. Just see where it goes.”

Why didn’t he get it?

“Derek, I can’t do that to her,” I croaked, feeling my eyes wet and wondering if it was from the death grip I had on my head or the things happening within it.

“Do what?” he asked, shattering the last shackle that held my thoughts safely behind the thick walls of self-hatred and selfishness.

“Trap her with me!” I yelled. My hands flew from their position, and I held them stretched out in front of me. I needed him to see how they shook from the weight that they held. His eyes, like hers, immediately flickered to the imperfections.

Derek was better at looking away than her. I wonder if it’s because he saw the failure like I did. If he saw mistakes made by the both of us, rather than a reminder that my body was capable of surviving.

“It’s not a trap if she wants to be there, Reid.”

They were the same words I would’ve given him if the situation was reversed. I knew that there was logic and reason in them, but I just couldn’t allow any conclusion where I was allowed to be happy.

“No, it is. It is a trap. Because I’m a... a goddamn black hole!” I shouted, no longer capable or willing to hold it back, “Everything I touch falls apart. JJ, Maeve, Cat, Max, my mom, I…!”

When I looked up at him, I saw the understanding in his eyes. I saw that some part of him could connect with the words I was saying. I continued, confident in my decision to willfully misinterpret and weaponize that look to prove that the words were true.

“I can’t do that to her. She’s so young and she has so much to give, and if I take it from her, I will destroy it like I do with everything else that is good.”

That I was undeserving of anything resembling love. Especially if it came from her.

After a moment of silence and mercy, Derek spoke again.

“That’s not true,” was all he said. Like he could will it to be false any better than I could.

“Isn’t it?” I laughed to hopefully stall the tears that had already started to fall, “Look me in my eyes and tell me that she doesn’t deserve someone that isn’t broken.”

He opened his mouth to speak but must have decided it wasn’t worth the breath. He averted his eyes for just a couple seconds — enough to cleanse his palate of the pain that was pouring from me. As soon as his gaze returned, I was generous enough to replace the pain with apathy. To spare him from suffering the same way I was trying to do for her.

“She’s so young, and I’ve already stolen enough from her. She shouldn’t have to pick up my mess. She should get a chance to live free from all of... this.”

Derek brought his hand to his lips, clasped together in thought and something else. A quiet kind of hopefulness that he might be able to guide me through this in time.

He always was the more optimistic of the two of us.  

“You want to know what I’m hearing?” he asked.

And despite all of my stubborn blubbering, I really, really did.

“What?”

“That you must really like that girl a lot to be willing to give up everything you want so she can be happy,” he said, “A damned fool, but one with good intentions.”

Just like that, he crushed my preconceived notions of myself. Wielding nothing but a solemn laugh and a few words uttered like a joke, Derek took the little bit left of my frostbitten heart and tried to bring it back to life.

“I do really like her,” I answered before anxiously biting on my lip to stop anything else from sneaking past my defenses.  

Because we both knew it was a lie. Derek wasn’t going to point it out, and I would forever be grateful to him for that.

The truth was, I didn’t like her.

I was falling madly in love with her, and I didn’t know how to stop.

I didn’t want to, either.

————————————————

Leave it to the Virginia weather to change at the drop of a hat. It wasn’t a terribly cold day, and for that I was grateful. I couldn’t call myself completely devoid of luck — after all, I’d managed to find a collection of plastic bags to wrap my electronics in, and I’d worn a jacket with a hood.

Unfortunately, however, my luck ended there.

I tried to find myself somewhere far away, but the beating of rain and tiny pieces of hail hitting my head honestly felt more fitting. If it wasn’t the world punishing me for being a stupid, careless idiot, I didn’t understand why else it would be storming this badly in the middle of November.

It’d been three days since I’d see Spencer. The weekend was the same length as every other week, but it felt longer. Perhaps it was because we hadn’t really been texting each other, which was unusual.

Or maybe it was the fact we kissed.

It was probably that one.

I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do. Was it on me to text him? Was it his responsibility? That seemed vaguely sexist, or I suppose ageist, to think that he was meant to take all the steps. But I’d literally never been in this situation before, and despite his greater experience in the world of love, I sort of doubted that he had, either.

By the time I had returned to the party, he had been long gone. I didn’t entirely blame him; I left shortly thereafter myself. But I would be lying if I pretended like it didn’t bother me at least a little bit that he’d run away so quickly.

It was only to be expected, though. The longer I thought about our conversation, the more I blamed myself for where we ended up. That wasn’t to say that I regretted it, but just that I better understood his decisions.

I didn’t regret it. Because at the end of the day, pity or pride or whatever other reason, Spencer Reid had decided that he was willing to kiss me.

He wanted to kiss me… and possibly wanted to do a lot more than that.

The rain seemed lighter after the conclusion was reached. It wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to fight the way the butterflies in my stomach took flight in the strong winds. The people driving past must have thought that I was mad, to be smiling while standing drenched and clutching nothing but a soaked book bag, but I didn’t care.

I was ready to tell them as much, too. As soon as the car in front of me stopped, my mouth quickly dropped open to explain that I didn’t need to be rescued.

But then I saw him, with his eyes wide and his hands frantically waving faster than the window could open. The one man that I would be willing to let save me from any kind of storm.

“Professor?”

“What the hell are you doing?!” he yelled, “Get in the car!”

“But—“

“Get in the car!”

I’d learned a while ago that it wasn’t worth it to fight him. Running through the puddle off the curb, I scrambled into his car without regard for just how awkward it would be when the door shut.

“I was waiting for the bus,” I said with hurried breath.

Spencer wasn’t amused nor thrilled by my explanation.

“Are you joking? You’re drenched!”

For whatever reason, I glanced down at the state of me. My dripping backpack was sat on my lap, as if the rest of me wasn’t already soaking through every inch of once-dry textile.

“I’m sorry! I’m going to get your seat all wet!”

“I don’t care about the seat; I’m worried you’re going to get sick!” he huffed.

Despite the fact I was certain it was meant to be a chastisement for having gotten myself in that situation in the first place, it was very cute. His eyes couldn’t stay off me for very long at all, flicking back and forth from the road to the soaked girl in his passenger seat.

“Are you alright?” he finally asked, his voice finally having settled at an appropriate volume.

“I’m fine,” I answered quickly. But when his shoulders didn’t fall and his eyes remained troubled, I provided a more honest addition, “I’m just... embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

Spencer must have realized that his worrywart tendencies had made me feel guilty, because he gave a heavy sigh before he spoke again.

“Don’t apologize. I’m just glad I saw you.”

The sadness in his tone made it hard to believe him. Not to mention the fact that we hadn’t spoken in days. Before we’d kissed I could usually count the number of hours without him on one hand. I had even started to worry that he never slept.

I was trying to avoid looking at him because I didn’t want him to see the anxiety in my eyes. But after a few seconds of watching the water drip down the passenger window, I realized how pointless my efforts were. Even if I was wrong, and he couldn’t read my mind, he was certainly a good enough profiler to realize why I was freezing him out.

Also, he didn’t know where I lived.

“So uh... Where did you want to take me?”

“Oh right! I’ll take you home,” he said with a chuckle that I might dare to describe as disappointed, “Are you okay to give directions?”

“Yeah.”

I didn’t hide my disappointment. Not as well as him, anyway.

I only lasted approximately two minutes in the silence before it became too uncomfortable to bear. I wrote it off as my terrible habit of overthinking. Even it was true that we’d ruined our relationship already, I didn’t want to admit it just yet.

“Can I turn on the radio?” I asked, instead.

“Oh,” he mumbled, looking down at untouched dials like there was a memory or secret stored within them, “Sure. Go ahead.”

The first station that came on was silent. So quiet that I was almost convinced I hadn’t actually turned it on. But the station numbers were staring back at me, and I was too afraid to touch the volume knob.

But then it happened, slowly but surely, a familiar tune building up to a cruel, cruel verse. The sultry and suggestive beat had me snickering before the words had even started, and Spencer also wasted little time interrupting my amusement.

“Something funny?” he asked. Like he didn’t already know.

“Hmmm. No,” I hummed, happy to taunt him with the joy that the coincidence brought me.

Young teacher, the subject

Of schoolgirl fantasy

She wants him so badly

Knows what she wants to be

Instead of letting it go so easily, I continued with the same, cheerful cadence, “Did you know Sting was a high school teacher?”

“I did.”

“He swears it isn’t autobiographical and was inspired by Lolita, but... Bit of a creep, no?”

“Yes,” he answered with a stern voice and raised eyebrows, “Creepy.”

Inside him, there's longing

This girl's an open page

There was really no telling what gave me the confidence that followed. By all accounts, I should have been dissuaded by his apparent refusal to discuss the ten ton elephant in the room. But there was just something in the way his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. I could trace the tension that continued to fill the space between us, and it all led back to him.

Book marking, she's so close now

This girl is half his age

I realized something in that moment. I’m not a profiler, and I’m not really great at reading a lot of social clues, either. But I was absolutely, positively sure in my deduction that my boss and Professor, Spencer Reid, was absolutely terrified of me.

It wasn’t the usual terror - it was an abject horror. The overwhelming fear that accompanied having none of the power he usually held. Just as Sting had wanted to portray, there was a thick, undeniable guilt and frustration filling the four door sedan.

And I knew how to make it so much worse.

“Twenty five isn’t half of forty, though,” I said.

Spencer turned to look at me with narrowed eyes and a curled tongue.

“Excuse me?”

“It isn’t,” I reasserted with a shrug.  

“Are you implying something, Bunny?”

Sticking my bottom lip out and humming a quick, high note, I corrected, “No, I’m doing math.”

His lips turned to a smirk that only barely hid his true feelings. The undercurrent of fear ran along each syllable as he asked, “Where did the numbers come from?”

Don't stand, don't stand so

Don't stand so close to me

Choosing not to answer the pointed question, I turned to him. I tried to laugh, but it came out as a flat, sarcastic chuckle that almost sounded angry.

“You really think it has nothing to do with us?”

Don't stand, don't stand so

Don't stand so close to me

Any humor fell from his face so quickly that I started to doubt it had ever existed. He’d heard the insecurity and hurt behind my poor attempts at a joke, or flirting, or whatever the hell it had been. I saw myself reflected in his eyes right before he ripped them away from me.

The sound of the song faded to the back of my mind, drowned out by his persistent self-castigation. The obvious hatred that he held for himself was being projected on my skin for the first time. Every place where he had touched me, I could almost see the burn marks of areas he’d deemed corrupted by his hands.  

He gave himself too much credit, to think that he could taint me so easily.

“Trust me, Bunny,” he interjected with a sigh, “If fate had any control over the radio, it would pick a more suitable song.”

I wanted to believe him. Something told me that it might make it hurt less.

Temptation, frustration

So bad it makes him cry

But I didn’t believe him at all.

“Are you sure, Professor?”

Wet bus stop, she's waiting

His car is warm and dry

Spencer didn’t answer my question. His hand that had been in a white-knuckled grip around the steering wheel shot over to the controls. The song cut off, only to be replaced by another, more somber, tune.

I didn’t need to listen closely to recognize The Smiths, and the title of the track alone was fitting enough to my feelings that I had to laugh.

Please, please, please, let me get what I want.

I laughed, and he followed with a sad little smirk. One that I was already accustomed to. The one he wore every time I left. Every time but the last time.

We pulled up to the stoplight in front of my apartment, and I wondered if this would be a necessary one-off awkwardness, or if it would always be like this from then on.

It seemed impossible, though. How could I buy into this ending? To believe that he would really let something like that ruin all of the fun we’d had together thus far? Because it wasn’t all about the physical spark. The only reason the fire had grown so quickly was because the kindling was plentiful.

There was something in me that made him want to burn. I knew because I felt it, too.

Every time he looked at me, without fail, I found myself lost in the mesmerizing dance of fiery golden halos. I had watched the lightning strike and scar the wise, frail trunk of him. I choked on the smoke of his voice and my hands splintered over the scarred skin.

So for once in my life

Let me get what I want

“That’s funny, Professor,” I whispered.

Lord knows, it would be the first time

Lord knows, it would be the first time

He didn’t ask for clarification, but I gave it anyway.

“I think fate might be a little better than you thought.”

At the same time his eyes left mine, the awful screeching of alarms blared through the speakers. Spencer’s reaction was immediate and visceral — he winced like it caused him actual pain, and I felt that suffering in return.

He still managed to pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex with ease, which was impressive considering both the tension inside the car and the storm raging outside. We both waited for the telltale tone to end, still not looking one another in the eye.

But then the faceless, robotic voice spoke the words Spencer had clearly been anticipating and dreading.

“The National Weather Service in your area has issued a Tornado Warning...”  

“Really?! In November?!” I whined.

The cry distracted Spencer from our current circumstances enough that he felt comfortable looking me in the eyes again. The tension had dissipated with the equalizing charge of the disaster that seemed hellbent on following us.

“It’s actually less rare than you think,” he explained like it would help.

As the car finally came to a stop, I was stuck switching my gaze back and forth from my door to the man beside me.

“Just— will you come inside?” I finally asked. Before he could deny my request, I tried to reassure him, “Just for a minute. I don’t want you out in this.”

I saw the word ‘no’ on his tongue, but the fate he’d discounted so easily came back to bite him. It came with fury, rage, and a power line across the street snapped clean in half.

From the safety of the car, which was rapidly declining by the second, Spencer met my eyes yet again. I watched the hundreds of possibilities play out in small stretches of hazel.

I don’t know what he saw, but once he informed me of the conclusion, I didn’t care anymore.

“... Fine,” he said like a curse.

Together, we scrambled out of the car into whipping winds and hail that hit harder than before. There was no comforting conclusion this time to soften the blow, either.

At least, not until Spencer took me by the hand. His fingers laced between mine, and for the briefest of seconds, I recalled memories of them everywhere else. I recognized the markings that I’d pressed against my lips and it lit a fire in me.

That flame was enough to get us inside, damp and drenched in our respective states. We didn’t say a word as we navigated the short hallway. Spencer was too busy surveying the area around us to notice when the door had opened, but luckily, my hand remained in his.

He followed my lead with a surprising lack of fight or friction. He didn’t even look where he was headed, trusting that I wouldn’t pull him into danger or disaster.

Unfortunately, it did mean that he stepped directly into me. Thankfully, we both remained standing, but it just brought more attention to our current circumstances. The painful proximity that felt reminiscent of the last time we’d seen each other.

I stared up at him, waiting to see if he would have anything at all to say.

He did, but it wasn’t anything close to what I wanted to hear.

“You should change,” he said before pausing to clear his throat, “y-you know… So you don’t get sick.”

“Right,” was all I said in return.

There wasn’t anything wrong with his concern; prior to the events of the party, I might have even considered it cute and a bit flirtatious. He was always so worried about me; it couldn’t be that he only saw me as an employee. I might have been able to convince myself he saw me as a child, but our last contact had laid rest to that theory.

I was the one to take my hand back first. It hurt every step of the way, but once I had possession of myself again, I remembered the way he had looked at me in the car. That undeniable, pathetic pity he’d forced onto me.

Trapped in an odd state of perpetual anxiety, frustration, and exhaustion, I allowed myself to step away from him just long enough to change. But as I caught my reflection when I stepped out of the room, I noticed just how much of me had changed already.

I wasn’t talking about my clothes, although the difference was reflected in them, as well.

By the time I returned to the main room, Spencer had shed a couple layers. He stood in the exact same place I’d left him, wearing only a slightly damp undershirt and the same, familiar slacks.

He hadn’t noticed my presence yet, too busy staring forward at the wall like it would reveal some secrets to him. Like he could feel the memories that had been built there, and he was trying to read them with the same proficiency he read the daily paper.

I eyed his figure the same way he normally did to me. But while his viewing was unabashed, mine only lasted until he turned around. Until he caught me, with my arms full of blankets and my eyes full of a distant longing he’d experienced firsthand.

“Should we get in the bathtub?” I asked, earning the first genuine, carefree laugh of the day.

“Would that make you feel better?” he asked in return.

“... I think so?” I said, conveniently leaving off the fact that it was his proximity and not the porcelain that comforted me.

I think he knew, anyway. I hoped he did. It would have made his answer far more exciting.

“Then sure,” he answered, “Let’s do it.”

The walk to my bathroom felt like a labyrinth. Time moved differently, and the creaking floorboards reminded me of the regretful, panicked screams of those poor souls trapped on Tartarus.

But my eyes remained transfixed on the man in front of me, whose hands had been stuffed into pockets to prevent me from being able to hold them again. It seemed so like him to be able to navigate a place he’d never been.

I questioned if it was wrong to idolize him this way. To compare him to a god, even when that one was a lonely, tired, god who had been damned to the only realm they would dare name after him.

I followed him, trying not to imagine myself as that chthonic maiden of Spring and seeds. I tried not to compare the storm outside to the rumblings of the earth before it opened to swallow her whole.

I thought not of pomegranates, nor how they might taste on his lips.

Had I already consumed them? Or would I be denied the option entirely?

The two of us lacked any grace or godliness as we struggled to fit ourselves in the tiny base. Our feet touched in the middle, and I once again noticed the way his socks never matched.

The sound of my laughter in the acoustics of the room was enough to break through the tension. Spencer’s quickly followed, and he hugged his awkward crossed legs while simultaneously leaning forward.

“So, Bunny, now that I have you here… I have to ask.”

The question alone caused my adrenaline levels to spike. I was afraid that he could hear my heart pounding in response, but then he introduced an entirely new fear.

I didn’t see the way he reached out until his hands were on me. Not touching my skin this time, but once again running over a barrier of plush fabric that kept us apart. It wasn’t unlike our time on Halloween, except for the fact I now knew what it felt like for there to be nothing left between us.

I almost forgot he had a question to ask, too mesmerized by the soft patterns drawn by his thumb. My eyes were half-lidded and far away when he did speak through a rather cheeky little chuckle.

“Did these come before or after me?”

The spell was broken by my shocked blinking. I glanced down at myself and remembered that I’d been trying to beat him at this game.

That was the whole reason I’d picked the pajamas that sported a pattern of little bunnies.

“A bit arrogant to assume you have that much of an effect on my decisions,” I mumbled with both sarcasm and embarrassment.

Spencer was still laughing, obviously taking a great amount of pride in his ability to turn my brain to mush with a simple touch. One that continued as he inched closer, dragging fingers all the way down my thigh as he answered, “So… after, then?”

To avoid answering the question, I did the only rational thing.

“You look ridiculous,” I teased.

He accepted the distraction as my white flag. While I hated losing the warmth of his hand on me, I still enjoyed how much more comfortable he seemed now that we’d returned to our usual dynamic. That low-stakes, competitive banter. The things that allowed us to hide how badly we really wanted to feel one another again.

“Tubs are not made for tall people,” he sighed, “It’s a curse.”

“You’re hardly tall.”

“I’m taller than you,” he shot back just as quickly.

There were many ways to resolve this childish conflict. I could continue to play into his desires — accept and acknowledge him as an authority in more ways than one. I could act like the innocent schoolgirl he’d obviously perceived me to be.

Or I could do what I wanted to do. I could show him that the things that we’d done had altered me. I could display for him the effects that he’d had and hopefully prove to him that not all of them were bad.

I could exist in a closed space with him without losing my breath entirely. My heart would keep beating, albeit harder and faster, despite having handed it to him a full three days before.

I could show him that I was no less a woman than when he had me pinned against a door, defenseless by choice. Wholly his, without regret.

“Okay, fine,” I announced just before I tackled him back against a wall of pillows and blankets.

Spencer’s laughter was so loud that it almost hurt my ears; as much as such a thing could bring pain, anyway. The two of us floundered in the small space, with my hands pulling at his calves and positioning his arms in a flagrantly carefree way.

There was absolutely no resistance on his part. His limbs were like doll pieces, staying exactly where I’d led them. He stayed, laughing and smiling until I’d convinced him to put his legs out in front of him. He didn’t protest at all when I curled up against him with my back to his chest and his arms wrapped around me.

“Is that better, Dr. Long Legs?” I hummed happily as I settled into my new position between his legs.

“Is that supposed to be a pun?” he asked. I didn’t have to see the look on his face to know that he said it through a smile. I could feel it in the way his hands settled and smoothed over my lower stomach.

At first, I tensed at his touch. I held my breath until I felt dizzy before I reminded myself that I wasn’t meant to be nervous when he held me. That I was trying to prove to him how capable I was of intimacy.

I wasn’t scared of him, like he was of me.

“I thought it was pretty good,” I muttered once my body allowed itself to relax in the safety of his arms.  

And to my surprise, he agreed.

“It was good,” he whispered.

It was surprising, but only to the extent that it hadn’t been about the pun at all.

I could only hope, anyway. It was the most favorable of the possible reasons that he seemed so comfortable when his fingers tucked under the hem of my top.

I didn’t want to believe that he was acting this way because he was playing a game. I wanted to trust my instincts that told me he had been touching me without thinking. Or perhaps, thinking too much. Remembering the way that he’d felt the other night the same way the thoughts had consumed me for days.

I threw myself into those fantasies, imagining how they would shift if we’d waited until now to give in to one another. How much easier it would have been to transition into my room. How much freer he was to touch me in safer, more suitable ways.

When his fingers tucked under the very top of the fluffy fabric of my pants, the lights began to flicker. It was the signal to the end. Enough of a scolding from the heavens that woke Spencer from his own daydreams and reminded him of where we were in the present.

“Sorry,” he announced, like his touch had been offensive. He pulled his hands away, resting them over one another on top of my lap, instead. “I was just… distracted.”

“It’s alright, Professor. I like when you touch me,” I mumbled before nuzzling further into his embrace. I didn’t shy away from nor feel any shame from the obvious statement of fact.

But in my peripherals, I saw the way it caused his forehead to wrinkle and his lips to curve in a notable frown. I saw the displeasure stemming from my desire to keep his hands on me, and I wondered if his disappointment in himself had anything to do with me at all.

It didn’t feel that way.

“Are you comfortable enough now?” I asked, hoping to distract him from the unhappiness.

It worked like a charm.

“Yes,” he replied. His smile returned in full force with fingers tapping over his own skin now. “We should hang out in tubs more often.”

“I don’t know, it makes me kind of sleepy,” I said with the most exhausted little giggle.

I half-expected him to make his exit then. To guide me or carry me off to a more suitable place to rest my head. Because I could feel the way his heart beat like unsteady, broken wings fighting against the wind currents of hurricane gusts.

Spencer Reid’s heart was not a place where sleep could be found easily, if at all. But over time, I heard how it shifted to a more predictable rhythm. I felt him calm and his tension ease just like it had in his office.

“You can go to sleep if you want,” he said once he was confident that his heart wasn’t in my way, “There are worse ways to get through a storm.”

His voice always carried such a somber melody, even in moments such as these. I heard the longing and emptiness, the echo of a small boy that still existed somewhere. I could hear him, his voice small and broken as he cried, Please, don’t leave.

But was he even talking to me?

Please, I need someone.

Would I be enough?

I need you to stay.

Would he want me to be if I could?

Please, don’t let me leave.

I hadn’t realized the way my whole face had gravitated to look up at him until his hand cradled my cheek. His thumb wiped at invisible tears on my cheek like he saw something I didn’t.

I didn’t dare look him in the eyes… until I did.

And I drowned exactly like I knew I would. My bottom lip trembled with a memory of pain that didn’t belong to me. I realized then that I hadn’t been making it up. I saw that little boy in his eyes, reaching out and holding onto the only person who’d ever stopped to really look at him.

I really thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t.

Spencer’s fingers drifted down from my cheek along with his eyes. They looked off at nothing in particular, failing to focus on anything at all.

“Professor, about the other night...” I started, hoping to finally explain myself or at least hear his own reasoning.

Those dreams were crushed even more quickly than I thought possible.

“Let’s not,” he said with a startling amount of finality.

“What?” I asked, my voice box audibly projecting the sound of my heart breaking in front of him.

“Do you remember what you said about expectations?”

‘At least it’d be over, right? And it wouldn’t mean anything.’

How could I forget one of the first lies I’d told him?

‘It won’t hurt when it amounts to nothing.’

“Yeah, I do.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

Was I meant to lie again? What other option did I have? My heart was already cracked and aching in his hands, and he didn’t seem to have any desire to hold it together any longer.

“I guess,” I lied, knowing he would hear the falsity in the two syllables the same way he’d seen nonexistent tears in my eyes.

“So... let’s not.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat and hoping that the action might make the word hurt less. Knowing that it wouldn’t.

“Okay,” I agreed.

I tried to shift under his arms, but Spencer grabbed hold of my shoulders and turned me towards him. I all but crawled onto him, trying to be as close as I could while he inspected the red rimming the eyes that he’d found comfort in.

I felt the force of the way he cursed himself under his breath, every part of his mouth trying to fight itself. Trying to find a way to say what he needed to without hurting me any more than he had.

“You’re a sweet girl,” he said almost like it were a bad thing. His hands almost let me go, but then they held on tighter. He smiled when he spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear it over winds still roaring outside, “You deserve to be handled delicately, and I am not a delicate man.”

I wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but I knew that I would never win an argument that required him to show himself any sort of kindness. He would never forgive himself the way I needed him to in order to understand what I saw.

He didn’t want to believe me, but he desperately wanted to believe in a world where his own insecurity wasn’t so all-encompassing. Where we weren’t doomed before we began.

“Maybe in another life,” he whispered, “but not this one. I’m sorry.”

With a small nod, I forced my lips to raise into something resembling a smile. I blinked away the few tears that gathered, not daring to let them fall, lest they take any chance I had with them.

Can I still be your bunny?

The question stayed sat on my tongue, unmoving. My eyes took it in turn, begging him to hear it and give me the answer I needed.

“I trust you to be right about that,” I croaked, masking the fractures with an equally broken laugh.

“I know,” he chuckled, pulling me in closer to him again. His arms wrapped possessively around me. I wilted in his embrace, curling in at the edges like petals facing their first frost.

“I am,” he reminded with the start of a lausgh that never really came to be, “I always, unfortunately, am.”

As his heart fell back into a regular rhythm, I wondered if the changes had ever been because of me. I thought of how our minds make unreliable connections and recognize imaginary correlations when we want something too hard.

Was that really all that we were? Haphazard wanting without a hope for finding what we sought?

When sleep came to me, I took it. Even nightmares seemed like a reprieve from the enmity inside my bathtub. I let myself take only comfort in his warmth and the way his hands still wandered carefully over the delicate curves of my body.

I dreamed of Spencer picking up the broken fragments he’d made of me and putting them back together like one of his puzzles. In that perfect world, we’d swapped pieces of ourselves and realized for the first time that we’d always been carrying the wrong ones.

The storm passed, but Spencer didn’t wake me. He waited for me to stir before he rushed for the exit. Just as he had before, he restlessly bolted to the door.

But this time he stopped, frozen in place in response to nothing but a simple farewell.

“Goodnight, Professor,” I said, thinking of the way Persephone must have felt when the sun started to drift too close again.

Spencer turned to me with those eyes that saw more than mine.

“Goodnight, Bunny,” was all he provided.  

But when the door clicked shut, it sounded a lot like an apology.

——————————————————

| Part Seven |

[reidmania]

cedar | spencer reid

summary; breaking up on good terms and remaining friends is difficult, especially when you and spencer work together, its even harder when your life is put at risk and spencer is faced the possibility that he might really lose you.

warnings; exes who cannot stay exes, angst, fluff, they flirt w each other, fem reader, mentions of being stabbed, all cm minds things, happy ending, avoidant!reader, self sabotaging reader. BUT THERES SOOO MUCH FLUFF GUYS, they flirt and banter so much, reader is sarcastic and very playful, shes lowkey lorelai gilmore coded a little idk

an; cedar is my song. i love cedar, i love gracie abrams. thank u and goodnight. not proof read bc if i read it i probably wont post it. thank u so very muchly to @gghostwriter for all the advice on this fic and letting me yap about it.

‘Breaking up is funny, I forget you aren't mine, I forget you aren't mine. It's impossible to acclimate, every time we talk, we understate, how I know we both could die, we both could die. But you told me that you felt the same, when I told you how I needed space, but I think it was a lie, it was a lie’

“You know pointing is rude.” You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as you leant back in your chair. The room went silent as everyone turned their gaze to look at you. Was the timing of your statement the best? No, did you care? Also no. Hotch was in the middle of going on the details of the case you had traveled out to Louisiana for, he was pointing at the screen and the thought just slipped passed your lips before you could help it.

Spencer turned his gaze to you, eyebrow rasied, “Do you ever think before you speak?” He asked. Your lips parted before shutting again, then you let out an amused huff and shook your head, lips pulling into a half teasing smile.

“If I did that I’d lose my sense of humour— you all would be miserably bored.” You sighed back, the smiling pulling further on your lips as the messy haired brunette sitting opposite you raised his eyebrow further and let out a half hearted— almost sarcastic chuckle in return.

He tilted his head slightly, “Humour? Is that what we are calling it?” He asked. You nodded instantly, a wide, half proud smile taking over your features. He hummed, clearly amused.

“Why is pointing rude?” JJ spoke up, your eyes widened in almost excitement to be able to talk about why the thought had crossed your mind in the first place.

“Well when you point you kill all the fairies.” You replied, matter-of- factually. You knew it was technically silly but it was a sweet childish thought that had been engraved in your mind since you were younger and you heard it from a distant relative, probably as a way to you from stop pointing at someone (because that was rude but explaining that to a five year old would be useless so they settled on something more interesting for an adolescent)

Spencer let out an audible laugh, “You are a child.” He said, almost teasingly.

Your head turned away from JJ’s to meet his eyes, this time you sat up a little straighter, “What does that make you?” You teased back, raising your eyebrow at him.

Seemingly, that made his lips part then close, and he resigned, yet there was still a slightly amused smile on his lips, which he bit his lip to try to hide, as he turned his attention away, making your smile only widen as you settled back in place, slumped against your chair as you turned your attention back to Hotch. who was standing arms crossed, clearly unamused by the interruption.

You however just smiled widely at him, “You may continue now. Without pointing, don’t be a fairy murder.” You huffed out. Hotch stared at you for a moment, no emotion evident over his features before he shook his head, turning his attention back to the case at hand.

Your eyes caught Spencer’s for a moment. In those moments it was increasingly difficult to remember you weren’t together, it was further difficult to remember why you had broken up in the first place. The way you interacted, the looking for one another in a crowded room, the soft touches and the teasing taunts went against every breakup ‘rule’

The breakup wasn’t messy. Not really, Not at all. It wasn’t mean, there was no big argument, no mind changer, no feelings lost, it just.. happened. It started when you had admitted to Spencer you were getting overwhelmed with the fast pace of your relationship, and he agreed he was too. You both agreed to take space, time, to reevaluate on what you both needed at this point in time.

When the conversation finally happened, you told him you thought it would be better to end things now, while everything is good so theres no chance of things going bad. You explained your reasoning by saying you didn’t want to lose your friendship with him if that feeling in your chest never went away, you didn’t want things to be awkward at work.

He had agreed, and it was mutual. You both mutually agreed to end things out of the fear of things ending.

It had been a month since the breakup, there was no awkward phase between you two. There was no tension, bitterness. It instantly fell into the same rhythm that had always been there, playfulness, teasing, lingering glances. The only difference was now he didn’t steal kisses to cut off one of your dramatic rambles, or wrap his arms around your waist at the end of the work day to signal he was ready to go.

You hadn’t decided yet, if the breakup was the right thing to do, if keeping this close knit bond with Spencer stumped any chance of you moving on — not that you planned to right now.

The breakup wasn’t messy, but everything after, everything now and everything in your head was.

“Spencer” You poked at his arm as you approached where he was standing, leaning over a desk reading over something, you weren’t sure what it was, you didn’t really care. He didn’t look at you as he let out a hum of acknowledgment, making you smile. “Spencer” You repeated, poking his arm again, and then again, until he turned his head to look at you.

His raised eyebrow and the way his lips pulled into a tight thin line showed he was unamused, not annoyed. You smiled widely at him, “You’re in my way.” You said, something you could have told him when he was half paying attention, but that took all the fun out of it.

He stared at you blankly for a moment, before crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his body against the desk further, turning towards you. Which only further blocked your path. “Thats unfortunate.” He sighed, you squinted at him slightly.

“Can you move.” You huffed. No longer amused because it was less amusing when he was amused as well. Maybe that was silly but you couldn’t help it.

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to think about it for a moment, before looking back at you. You glared at him, crossing his arms over your chest before he spoke. “Whats the magic word?” He mumbled, tone laced with faux seriousness.

A huff left your lips, as you glared up at him, squinting your eyes slightly, “Chivalry is dead?” You suggested sarcastically.

He grinned, “No. And that’s a sentence. I said magic word”

“You know what? I will just go the other way.” You decided, turning on your heels to walk away. A laugh left his lips as he reached out to grab your wrist, stopping you from getting too far, he dragged you back to stand in front of him.

“Stubborn.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he looked down at you, you returned the gaze, tilting your head slightly as you looked up at him, trying to keep the smile threatening to make way onto your face.

“You just noticed?” You replied in the same tone. Although you knew he had known this for a while, he never failed to mention how stubborn you were throughout your relationship, whether it was playful or in the middle of an argument, he constantly reminded you just how stubborn you were.

He shook his head, not bothering to hide the amusement on his face. “No, No. Trust me you make it very known.” He said, emphasising his words to make it clear that not only he, but everyone was aware of your stubbornness.

You smiled, “Being stubborn isn’t a bad thing, you know.” You mumbled, gently pulling your wrist away from his hold, not because you didn’t enjoy the touch but more-so because you felt an undying urge to cross your arms.

He hummed, looking down at you, “I didn’t say it was.”

You tilted your head, the same entertained look in your eye that mirrored his, “You inferred it.” You said, matter-of-factually, although he didn’t, not really. He actually didn’t give any hint to what he meant by his words, but you were okay with that. It kept things lighthearted, easy.

“You assumed.” He said in the same tone. “I didn’t infer anything, I simply made an observation.” He said, raising his eyebrow as if he was trying to figure out how you were going to find a way to reply — he assumed something witty, dramatic.

“Can you observe from elsewhere.. you’re still in my way”

He let out an amused laugh, “Im still waiting on that magic word” He said, clearly enjoying this and the light hearted banter between the two of you.

You rolled your eyes, in a huff of frustration you ramble, “You are creating a hostile work environment. I feel unsafe. I feel targeted and threatened. How do you feel about yourself, after treating me such a way? You are a horrible evil person. Im going to take this to corporate.” You babbled off into a dramatic tangent which only furthered Spencer’s amusement of the current situation.

“I feel pretty great actually.” He shrugged, you glared at him, staying in place for a moment to see if he would move, he didn’t, instead he continued smirking slightly. You groaned dramatically before turning on your heels and walking away. You could hear his laughter as you walked around the opposite direction to get where you wanted to go in the first place.

“I hate when my job actually requires me to do my job.” You huffed out, shaking your head as you tightened the straps of your vest. It wasn’t true, you loved your job, you loved what you did and that wasn’t a question. It was just the dramatics and the emphasis on how tired you were today, although that didn’t stop killers from killing, or kidnappers from kidnapping.

Unfortunately this case was particularly tough, it had taken an abundance of days to just figure out the victimology and connection because of how random the killings were, then it took another day to figure out the MO, then the profile was completed, then the next day, today, you had finally gotten the location of where the unsub was keeping his victims.

“Yeah, Such a struggle, poor you” Spencer mumbled out as he came up behind you, readjusting the straps on the back of your vest to make sure it was on properly, his voice was laced with tease, you just hummed in acknowledgment.

“Make sure you’re careful, and cautious.” Hotch reminded you. You didn’t think much of it at the time, it was the same reminder as always when catching an unsub, don’t do anything unnecessarily dangerous, don’t split up unless necessary, don’t put yourself in a situation that you cant get yourself out of, the words you had heard probably a million times.

You wished you paid closer attention this time.

You and Spencer walked through the house, it had an ominous feel to it, the air in the house was colder than outside, and it wasn’t a particularly warm day — but it wasn’t the temperature that made the house feel as cold as it did.

Instead it was the guttual sobs you heard from underneath the floorboards that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and goosebumps to line your arms. They weren’t sobs of pain, instead just ache, a cry so loud begging for someone to hear. Before that you were about to whisper a stupid joke to Spencer, now you felt as if you couldn’t breath.

“Stay here.” He whispered to you. There was something unfamiliar about the look in his eyes and any wit you could muster up was thrown out the window at the sound of his voice. It was a stupid request, you couldn’t just stay here in the hallway while he wandered around. You had a job to do.

When he turned the corner, gun pointed protectively, his movements were calculated and careful, every step he took he knew what he was doing, You thought you did too. The first step you took was quiet and your gun was pointed, your finger hovering over the trigger.

Spencer moved towards the sound of the sobs, you moved towards the living room, trying to clear the downstairs area of the house. There was a pull in your stomach for a number of seconds, a twist of anxiety you pushed to the side to focus on the matter at hand.

That didn’t last. Ignoring the feeling in your stomach turned into gasping at the feeling. A gasp of pain leaving your parted lips as you stumbled forward, the gun left your hand and hit the ground, the sound of the contact blurring as a ringing swindling sound took over your sense of hearing.

You were stabbed. You could feel the metal, more than you wanted to admit, you could feel the way it pressed into your skin, the coldness of it against the warmth of you. A sob of pain left your lips before you could help it. There was someone holding you, wrapping a tight arm around your chest and a hand over your mouth to silence your cry.

The arms weren’t comforting, in any sort of way. They were too tight, too suffocating for the lack of air you were able to breath in between the hand covering your mouth and the pain in your stomach, you wished adrenaline would kick in but it seemed to dwindle out as your head spun, then the knife was ripped away from your stomach.

That hurt.

More than it did when it first went in.

Then you were released from the mans arms and your body collapsed in pain, eyes squeezing shut as your hands scrambled to press against the open wound now bleeding out. You didn’t know where the unsub was, you didn’t hear footsteps, you didn’t really hear anything. Everything seemed blurry, not your sight so much since your eyes were squeezed shut but you could feel your mind blurring with every second that passed, any first aid training you had learnt flew out the window.

You missed it at first, the sound of the door opening, the sound of back up coming in, Derek, Emily. They were in the house now but not in the living room, not where you were lying on the floor in a helpless pool of your own blood. You wanted to yell out, or sob but every sound got stuck in your throat.

Then you felt a larger hand pressing on top of yours, placing more pressure against the wound than your tired arms had allowed, you made out frantic talking but nothing your half conscious mind could string together coherently. It didn’t matter, you could recognise the roughness of the gentle hand anywhere.

“Spencer” You gasped out, panting.

Had you been holding your breath? You didn’t remember but you knew breathing was getting more and more difficult.

His hand pressed against yours, other hand coming to brush hairs out of your face. “Im here. Can you open your eyes for me?” He almost begged, his voice gentle and reassuring and laced with panic even though he tried his hardest to remain calm for your sake.

You didn’t reply, only letting out strangled gasps for air, eyes remaining shut, squeezed tightly, as if the harder you squeezed them shut, the more your pain decreased. Unfortunately thats not how anatomy works.

“Open your eyes for me angel, look at me.” He now did beg. If you were conscious you would’ve given him a look for the use of the term of endearment in your current broken up state, but you could hardly process anything else he was saying, and you were bleeding out so there was clearly more important things.

You struggled, but after a moment peeled your eyes open to look at him. Vision was blurry and fading in and out even few seconds even when your eyes remained open, you couldn’t make out his features, you couldn’t see the tears he was trying to hold back. God you wished you could see his face.

“Good, thats good. Keep looking at me, Okay? We’re getting you help, you’re gonna be okay” He reassured but it was more of a slight reassurance for himself, trying to convince himself as such. His voice became a ringing in your ears, along with every other sound around you.

“Wh- Where- Is—“ You words came out mumbled, muffled by gasps for air and whimpers of pain. “He.” You finished, trying to keep your eyes open, trying to focus, trying to stay alive.

Spencer spluttered for a moment because he didn’t know— He had no idea. Whether the unsub was right behind him or whether they were being taken into custody by Derek or Emily, whether he was lying dead on the floor somewhere. Spencer didn’t know. He couldn’t. How could he focus on anything else?

“I don’t know” He said.

“Go away” You mumbled, eyes now fluttering closed, even in the state of half consciousness you knew Spencer was still in danger, more danger by keeping his back to his surroundings and his focus on you. That was putting himself in an unnecessarily dangerous situation.

He shook his head. “Im not going anywhere. Keep your eyes open.” He repeated.

“Spencer” You huffed out a breath of air, your eyes remaining closed because you were so tired. “Go. You- You aren’t— You aren’t my boyfriend anymore” You huffed out the words that came across way harsher than what you intended them, “Staying- With.. Me isn’t your.. Responsibilty” Your words came out laboured along with the way your chest rose and fell, the breaths that left your lips.

“Don’t say that. Open your eyes.” He shook his head as his other hand trailed down to your neck, fingers pressing against your pulse point. You couldn’t feel it, every part of you and every inch of his touch felt like a lingering sensation over the numbness of your body, your eyes remained shut.

“If i die” You huffed out, your voice quieter, more rushed as you tried to get more air in, “Please” You started before you let out a gentle sob, not of pain, you weren’t in pain, not anymore. “Please don’t let them use a bad— photo of me.. at..- my funeral”

It was the most you things to say before you stopped replying, before your body tensed slightly. To joke, to be playful at a time like this. Spencer wondered if it was an attempt to calm him down, to relax his mind a little bit, to sooth the ache in his soul with the wit that was unforgettably you.

The cream coloured walls seemed taunting, they were warmly lit, contrasting how cold the space felt, how daunting it was. There was different people scattered around, some crying, and grieving, some reading newspapers, others celebrating. There was really no contrast of emotions quite like a hospital waiting room.

“She just got out of surgery. Shes in the ICU.” Hotch said as he stood in front of the few members of the team that were sitting by waiting. Everyone wanted to stay at the hospital and wait throughout the time of your lengthy surgery, not everybody could.

“Is she okay?” Emily asked, sitting up a little straighter as Hotch spoke, Spencer remained silent in place, every part of his body relying on the ache in his chest to keep his heart beating. He didn’t know if he could form words even if he wanted to, he didn’t know if he could speak without his voice breaking.

Hotch was silent for a moment, which caused Spencer’s head to snap towards him in nothing but pure dread. Hotch realised and shook his head. “Shes— Shes fine. Shes alive. Shes still asleep, they said it could be a few hours before she wakes up. The surgery went fine - She will be okay” Hotch sounded relived as his spoke, an unfamiliar sense of emotion in his voice.

“Can I see her?” Spencer spoke urgently before he had even fully understood what he was saying. If he had thought about it for a moment more, he wouldn’t have bothered asking. He wasn’t oblivious to the inner workings of a hospital. ICU. Family members only.

Hotch seemed to know that Spencer already knew what the answer was, “Reid..” It came out regretful, apologetic, empathetic. Spencer didn’t reply, instead re-slumped back in his seat in defeat.

There was hours. Hours before you were awake. In those hours Spencer was nothing short of a mess. He tried to work, reading over case files, trying to summarise what had happened and then the memory of your blood painting his hands came back and he was left in a state of overwhelming thought.

“You alright, pretty boy?” Derek asked, despite the playfulness of his words, his tone was serious. It wasn’t a secret how much you meant to Spencer, it wasn’t a secret how much he cared about you. Spencer looked up from the hospital seat, the room had grown more absent of life as the hours passed, families came and went, the crying stopped and started again, the celebrations happened and passed. Yet spencer never stopped feeling so lost.

He shook his head, saying he was fine would be a lost cause to the knowingness of his best friend, and his current state. He was so evidently not all right that saying so would be humorous. His cheeks were flushed, hair a mess from the amount of times he had run his hand through it, tugged on the strands stressfully.

“You know what she said to me?” Spencer mumbled out as he pulled his gaze away to look at his fiddling hands, “She was laying on the floor, dying, and she told me to go away because I wasn’t her boyfriend anymore” Spencer huffed out the memory.

Derek sighed, taking a seat next to the mess of his best friend. “I don’t think she meant it like that. The situation was still dangerous and you were putting yourself at risk.” Derek said. Spencer wanted to cry.

“I know— I know. She said ‘it’s not your responsibility to stay with me anymore’ — I don’t— I can’t—” Spencer couldn’t articulate the emotions swamping his mind. Everything was overwhelming, every time he closed his eyes he saw you on the floor in a puddle of deep red blood, anytime his fingers remained still for too long it was like he could still feel your pulse running flat against them.

“Breathe.” Derek reminded as Spencer got himself worked up.

“I lost her— I lost her.” Spencer shook his head as the words came out, his hands pulling to his face to rub over his eyes, maybe as to hide the way they’d begun to water, maybe to feel anything besides the heat of his cheeks.

Derek sat up a little straighter to rub Spencer’s shoulder, “Shes okay. They said she will be fine. They just want to look over her for a while. She was in a tough surgery, I don’t know much about hospitals but I’m pretty sure being in the ICU means shes getting all the care she needs to recover better, and faster.” Derek tried to comfort.

“Its- No- I already lost her Derek. I was an idiot and I didn’t say anything — I didn’t say anything because I was scared of losing her and i lost her anyways.” He rambled, an overwhelming force of regret lingering in every word he gasped out.

“Your breakup? I thought that was mutual?” Derek furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Spencer wanted to laugh, because technically it was. Technically they had both agreed, technically this is what he wanted as well.

He just wanted you.

“She wanted space— I thought.. I thought everything would be okay. Then she suggested we break up while things are still good enough for us to end on good terms and be friends. I just — I didn’t want to lose her; I wanted her to be happy and in my life so I didn’t say anything.. I- I settled for being friends because it meant — I thought it meant i still had her” Spencer was a mess and it was evident in the stammer of his words in the midst of his ramble.

“You don’t think you do?” Derek asked, Spencer shook his head as he brought his hand down to rub gently over his chin and bottom lip, a shaky breath leaving his lip’s. “I think you do.. I mean everyone does. You two still act like you’re together.” Derek said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Spencer sighed, “Thats just— Thats how it was before we started dating. Sometimes it feel’s like we are still together.” Spencer mumbled, Derek opened his mouth to speak, but Spencer cut him off. “Shes going to wake up, alone. Her family is in a different state and I’m not allowed to see her? I- This is bullshit.”

“Just say you’re her husband” Emily said, catching both of the boys off guard, they hadn’t heard her approaching. Spencer lifted his gaze from the ground to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. Any other time, if it was for any other person he would probably go over how that went against so many rules, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Not when it came to you.

He broke protocol. He wondered how many times that had happened today as he sat beside you, his hand on of yours, thumb gently running over your knuckles as you laid still unconscious on the bed. He paid attention to the beeping of the machine, the rhythm of your heartbeat, making sure it stayed consistent like his life depended on it — like your life depended on it.

You mumbled something, causing his gaze to break away from the screen to your face, watching it twist slightly. Your eyes remaining closed, then your hand twisted to interlink your fingers with his. You were evidently in pain.

“Hey- Hey don’t move too much. Do you want me to get your nurse? They can give you some different meds” Spencer ushered gently, leaning closer to the bed as you stirred awake. He wasn’t sure if your lengthy amount of time spent unconscious was purely because of the antiseptic leaving your system or also the need for sleep but he was glad you were awake.

“No” You rasped out. Whatever medicine they had been pumping you with since you got out of surgery did its job. You weren’t necessarily in pain, just uncomfortable. Even with your eyes closed you could feel the brightness of the white hospital lights. You knew where you were.

Spencer squeezed your hand gently, making you now very aware that he was holding your hand. “What the fuck happened?” You huffed out, voice groggy and full of confusion. You knew where you were, you knew it was something that happened on the case, you knew you were stabbed, but everything after the knife made contact with your abdomen was a blur in your memory.

“You were stabbed.” He stated. You opened your eyes to glare at him, “Yeah- Spencer, no shit.” You shook your head, he smiled. “I just— Is everyone else okay?” You asked.

He nodded. Derek and Emily had saved all the victims and the unsub was in custody, he explained that to you softly, mapping out every detail so you could make it out enough in your mind to satisfy your need to know what was going on.

“Next time can you tell him to do better? This bed sucks” You referenced to the unsub stabbing you, and leaving you alive and uncomfortable. It was a joke. You tried to move without causing yourself any pain over the uncomfortable thin mattress of the hospital bed. Spencer smiled and let out a breathy half hearted laugh.

“I’ll be sure to let him know” He returned your playful tone but it was heavier, quieter. It was filled with something more, something unsaid. His eyes dropped from your to back to your hands that were twined together, rubbing his thumb gently over the webbing of your own.

You tilted your head slightly, “What’s wrong?” You asked, it didn’t take a genius to read Spencer. You had memories the is and out’s of his head, or you thought you did. You knew enough.

“I thought I lost you.” He said, shaking his head slightly. His voice was so quiet and filled with guilt. “We broke up and.. because of what? Because we didn’t want to lose each other— I almost lost you.” His words held so much gravity it felt like it had all been taken from your surroundings and you were floating on everything left unsaid and unfinished.

“But you didn’t. Im alive.” You smiled playfully. He said your name, serious, showing he wasn’t playing around about this, that it went further than just this situation. You sighed, and shook your head. There were only so many jokes you could make to downplay the weight of the space between you.

“Okay. We broke up.” You mumbled, looking at him. “Because things were weird and it was too much and if things kept going then if we ended later it wouldn’t be on good terms and then we wouldn’t be able to be friends and thats horrible for everyone” You said, recapping your mutual decision to break up.

“Why do you do that?” He asked, squinting his eyes as he looked up at you.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Do what?” There was a number of things he could pull you up on, your avoidance, your jokes, your way of downplaying everything and anything.

“Plan the end of things when they have hardly started. You were planning a breakup for a relationship that was doing perfectly fine. You needed space, I gave you space, then you decided you wanted to break up? Why?” He huffed out.

You furrowed your eyebrows further at his words, but he was right. Of course he was right. “You said you felt the same.” You mumbled, maybe if he had called you on your bullshit a month ago things would be different and you would’ve worked things out, you two would be together and maybe everything would be different. You also knew it wasn’t his responsibility to try and understand emotions you couldn’t comprehend or communicate to him.

“I didn’t want space, I didn’t want to break up — but I didn’t want to lose you all together.” He admitted. You suddenly felt the wind knock out of your chest. You wondered if the way your heart beat increased showed on the monitor, which seemed all too revealing.

“You didn’t say that.” You muttered.

He sat up a little straighter, not letting go of your hand, his fingers stayed tangled with your own. “Would it have changed anything if i did?” His voice was quiet, as if a question that didn’t need an answer.

“It was going.. too fast” You huffed. The relationship did go fast, but maybe it was because the two of you spent way too many years in this flirty banter phase before either of you actually made a move; maybe because you were both already so comfortable with one another.

“We could have slowed it down.” He said, rebutting.

“And if that didn’t work? If it was all just too much? Then we argue and we end on bad terms and then not only is it awkward for everyone at work but then we can’t even be friends” You repeated your point, the fear engraved in your mind.

“What if it did work?” He shut you up with his point, before he continued. “What if it did work and then everything was fine. What if you told me when things are getting too much or overwhelming you and we work together to fix those issues so we don’t end at all.”

“That’s optimistic.” You mumbled sarcastically. Everything he was saying made sense, everything he was saying was ideally how a relationship would go, but it wasn’t as simple as that for you. You couldn’t help the way your mind thought the worst.

Spencer huffed shaking his head, “You’re stubborn.” He said. And he never let you forget it.

“Im realistic.” You resorted, but you weren’t: You hyper fixated on everything that could go wrong and got yourself out of those situations before giving anything a chance to work out itself.

“You’re an idiot. And I love you.” Spencer exhaled. It wasn’t a crazy love confession because you knew this. He made it known everyday. Even everyday you were broken up. He didn’t need to hide it. “Can you give us a chance? A proper chance without planning our breakup before theres any actual reason for it, please.” He mumbled, half playfully and half so serious.

You considered his words. Honestly your last thought before falling unconscious was the fear that you would die without Spencer knowing how much you loved him, how much regret you lived with for the state you had got yourself into with him, the fear you had of not having him in some way, none of these thoughts you could voice aloud when dying.

“Okay.” You settled.

“Okay?” He asked, repeating it back as if he didn’t believe you. You nodded, repeating it again. He breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Okay good, because everyone on this floor thinks I’m your husband and it would’ve been really awkward if you just rejected me.”

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

thief! - spencer reid

spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer’s not leaving any time soon if you have anything to do with it. 

warnings: pure fluff nothin else :)

word count: 527

notes: i needed some quick ideas and inspiration struck w this one so i hope you guys like it!!

also spence and reader are not dating yet in this i just wanted to clarify bc its pretty important to the plot lol

********************

  “y/n!” spencer whined petulantly. “give it back right now!”

despite having advantages in neither the height nor wingspan categories, you were pretty agile. and you did not plan on affording the genius any mercy on this early october morning. 

you had spent the night at spencer’s to watch a movie together; your choice, so of course, you chose a rom-com to lighten the mood. last time it had been his choice, and he chose a rather long - albeit entertaining - sci-fi flick, and you wanted to push him out of his comfort zone.

this morning, however, you were in a playful mood. due to the nature of the film you watched last night or the lack of sleep, you weren’t sure. all your sleep-deprived brain had seen was spencer heading towards the door, and you wanted anything except that, so you quickly lunged for the first available manila folder you could reach to stop his exit. 

  “those are confidential files important to the documentation of a recently apprehended serial murderer, y/n.” spencer stated sternly.

  “well if they’re that important i guess you’re gonna have to figure out a way to get them back then, huh?” you grinned evilly. you held them above your head, only to quickly move them out to the side as he grabbed at them. “come on, you’re a genius! you should be able to get them back!”

you shoved them behind your back, giggling as he reached his arms around you while still managing to keep a respectful distance. if you were paying more attention, you would’ve blushed at the lack of space between the two of you. 

  “y/n, what do you want me to do? beg?” he groaned. normally, you’d give in to his obvious annoyance at the situation, but this was nothing like normal. 

  “hmm,” you hummed in contemplation, tightening your grasp on the files as you watched his hands inch closer in your peripheral vision. “while begging would be nice, i think a simple kiss would suffice.”

  “a kiss, really?” his tone definitely seemed surprised, but he didn’t seem as nervous as you expected. “that’s it?”

that’s it? if he was so nonchalant about kissing you, why hadn’t he done it before? you thought. 

  “well i had no idea you’d be so cocky, so maybe i should ju-” before you could finish your thought, his lips were on yours. your eyes shut as you let out a squeak of surprise at the sudden action. much to your dismay, the moment didn’t last as long as you’d hoped; mainly due to the fact that you’d loosened your grasp on the all-important files, giving spencer enough time to to grab a hold of them and shove them into his bag in record time. 

  “gotta go, i’m really late for the briefing. stay as long as you’d like, but just remember to lock up when you leave. bye!” you hardly had enough time to respond with a breathless ‘bye.’ before he was out the door. as it shut, you raised a hand to your lips as crimson red painted your cheeks.

one thing’s for certain: you were glad you grabbed those files. 

********************

ik this is short but i had literally 0 inspo for any of my wips and i really wanted to have something out by tonight and this prompt def got the creative juices flowing

i’m just now realizing after writing this i could’ve taken this in a whole other direction 😳 n e wayze 

btw my requests are always open bc my little pea brain can only come up w so many ideas and i’d love to write something you guys asked for!!

tags: @sojournmichael @bxbyspxncer @stinkyelf @crazyfore3 @cal-ifornication @eggygorl02 @howdycharlie @eosprincess @mortallythoughtfulgurl @illuxions-x​ @unlikelyempathpruneauthor​ @blankets-for-bees​ @holycandypizza​ @flyingbabyunicornnamedangel​ @minnie-bby​ @rexorangecouny​ @fantastic-fans​ @ashwarren32​ @elitereid​ @keomoon​ @achieveonyourown​ @whogirl7​ @jjtheangel​ @carol-danvers-wife​

[reidmania]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

i now have to attend uni. thank u for listening to my ted talk.

13x15

[anightflower]

Come and Find Me

Chapter 3: Ring, Ring!

Things are heating up my loves! 

Spencer Reid x Reader 

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, swearing

Masterlist here

“Breaking news. After countless weeks of Quantico in fear, the murderer of five innocent women has been caught. Andrew Curtis, age 29 has been accused of first degree murder and will face trial in these upcoming weeks. Curtis was caught before laying his hands on his 6th victim, 24 year old Emily Bloise-”

You groaned, awakening to the sound of the TV blasting the news. You didn’t even remember turning it on before going to bed last night. Hell, you don’t even remember falling asleep. You pulled the blankets over your head to block out the noise, as you shifted your legs, you heard a jingling of chains and became aware of the cold clasped around your ankle.

Your body jolted fully awake and you shot up as everything came crashing back to you. You hadn’t been able to sleep last night, you were too nervous for your presentation tomorrow. You were meeting with the one and only Lila Archer. She had gotten word of your design company and was so impressed with your work, she had contacted you to meet with her to discuss designing her vacation “workspace” home in Florida. This was your first celebrity job that would most certainly put you in the big leagues if you got it right or put you six feet under if she hated it. So needless to say your brain would not shut down for the night. 

You had given up on the idea of falling asleep on the rock hard bed the hotel had provided you. Instead you had thrown on some shorts and one of Spencer’s oversized t-shirts you had stolen from him and made your way to get some snacks from the convenience store that was just up the block from your hotel. 

You cautiously made your way up the street, pepper spray in hand. It was 3am and you were no idiot. You were still haunted by the Andrew Curtis case, and you knew deep down so was Spencer. He had gotten you new pepper spray, a pocket knife, and a keychain alarm after the case. He made you promise to carry it everywhere you went and you had held to that promise. It was the haunted look in his eyes that had bothered you the most. 

The bell on the door let at a shrill ring as you entered the store. You gave a small smile and a wave to the man behind the register which he returned. It looked like you were his first customer in a while. 

You wondered the aisles waiting for a snack to catch your eye, when the bell rang again signaling that someone else had entered. You didn’t really pay much attention to it, as you were focused on your very important task at hand; salty or sweet. 

That’s when you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. It was a male silhouette. You struggled to make out any of his features. He had his hood up, with a ball cap pulled low to block his face. Yet even without seeing them, you could still feel his eyes on you. 

Ice went down your spine. Something was not right about this, and you always trusted your instincts. Grabbing a random bag of chips and some chocolate covered pretzels you walked quickly over to the register. You could feel the hooded guy’s eyes burning into you even as you handed your money over to the cashier. 

The cashier didn’t seem to pick up on your discomfort and took his merry time with your purchase. You rushed out of there as soon as he handed you your change and bag. 

You had the urge to call Spencer, but you didn’t want to wake him up if you were just being paranoid, he hardly got enough sleep as it was.

 Glancing over your shoulder, you realized there was no one behind you. You slowed down a bit and caught your breath, chastising yourself for letting your fear get the best of you.

That's when you felt a muscular arm encircle your waste. You began to thrash and scream, but a cloth was thrust over your mouth and with one inhale, you were met with darkness.

And now you were here; a dingy little room with soundproof walls and chains on your ankles.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whispered glancing around. Your fear doubled when your eyes landed on the small TV near the foot of your bed. On it was reruns of the news footage for the Andrew Curtis case. The news footage recapturing every horrific detail. 

You got out of the bed slowly, trying to figure out how to move with the chains around your ankles, and began to take stock of anything that could be made a weapon, but the room did not have much. You paused when you realized this room held details that looked like they were taken right from your home. 

The gray and white duvet was exactly like the one you had on your bed in your apartment, it’s complex design hard to miss. The lamp on the bedside table, which was unfortunately glued down, was the exact replica of the one you had found while thrifting. How this person managed to get a similar one, you had no idea. You shivered when you realized there were cameras all over the room. One in each corner of the room, one on top of the TV and one glued to the bedside table. 

You slowly made your way towards a curtain blocking off something. You took a deep breath and ripped it open, only to find a tiny bathroom with a toilet, sink, and a door. You rushed to the door and attempted to open it. The doorknob rattled, it was locked.

 A voice boomed from a PA system above. “Aw my darling, you’re awake!” The voice was clearly distorted to sound deeper. You nearly jumped out of your skin. “I’m sorry your quarters aren’t that nice, but don’t worry, after we win the game, you and I are going to go someplace where you’ll have everything you’ve ever desired.”

“Who the hell are you?” You growled, your head whipping back and forth to see if there was anyone in the room. “Someone who cares very much about you. Someone who’s been in the shadows waiting for you for a long time.”

“Why don’t you come out and show your face instead of hiding behind a little PA voice system? Only a coward hides in the shadows.” You growled trying to seem unafraid, but your body trembled. 

“Oh no my sweet, there is a game afoot and as tempted as I am to reveal myself, I have something better in mind and I can’t have you ruining it.” He purred.

“Why the fuck am I here?” 

“Because darling, I had to open your eyes. You’ve been blinded by awe for your Doctor and you need to see the truth! He doesn’t deserve you, he can’t give you what I can! He leaves you so often, discarding you like a broken toy, only to return later to pick up the pieces.” The voice hissed.

If you weren’t so terrified you would have laughed in the man’s face. “You’re wrong. Spencer is the best thing that has ever happened to me.” You argued. 

“You’re a love-struck blind bitch who can’t see the truth.” The voice snarled. “He took so much away from me and I won't let him take you away too. He disgusts me. Stumbling around spewing bullshit and everyone regards him as a God. Guess I am the devil who has to show him the truth.”

________________________________________________________________

Reid glanced around your room, he hated how nothing seemed out of place. Part of him wished it was ransacked so he could find a clue as to who the unsub was, so he could see wrath or vengeance or some sort of motive, but there was nothing. 

Instead he just saw you everywhere. You liked to joke that your room was organized chaos. You had a large calendar above your cream-colored desk with important dates and meetings on it, color coded by importance, yet your desk had your design plans and pencils strewn about it.  Pictures of you and Spencer were taped up precariously around the calendar. Cliché photo-booth pictures that you had begged Spencer for, silly selfies you had taken of the two of you, and some pictures you had snuck of Spencer when he wasn’t looking.

Spencer ripped his gaze away as his heart shattered. He instead dragged his gaze around from that glancing at your bookshelves nearby. Design, fantasy, and sci-fi books were strewn all about the shelves. Spencer dragged his hand along the spines, remembering how you had teasingly refused to read any of Spencer’s “real-world” books. “The real world is too boring, I need my escapism and magic.” You said, sticking your tongue out at him as you had gone to the adult fantasy section of your favorite bookstore. Spencer had followed you, eager to explain the science magic tricks he knew.

Spencer shook his head, he needed to focus, yet every part of your room held a precious memory. He made his way to your bed, smoothing out the ornate pattern of your gray and white duvet. Your bed was made, each fluffy blanket folded and decorative pillow in place. 

The thing that truly hit Spencer was the lone stuffed animal that sat on the bed. It was a chubby bumblebee stuffed animal. Spencer had surprised you with it, after he witnessed you squeal in delight at it through a storefront window. You had claimed it was your most prized possession and that he would be your snuggle buddy when Spencer was away on cases.

Emily popped her head in through the door. “Hey Reid, any luck? I didn’t find anything.” 

Spencer glanced up at her. “No, everything looks normal. Not a damn thing out of place.” 

“Who’s that you’re holding?” Emily asked gently. 

“Reid. (Y/N) named him that, he would be by her side when I was away. (Y/N) joked that he protected her while I was away. A lot of good he did for her.” Spencer grumbled, shoving the bee back onto the bed. 

That’s when it caught his eye. The empty picture frame. The one that usually held the photo of you and Spencer, the one that had been mutilated and sent to him in a Curtis-like box. 

Spencer observed the frame, turning it this way and that. He heard the tiniest rustling sound of something moving within the frame. He opened the back of it and a folded up piece of paper fell out. 

Emily rushed to Spencer’s side to see what it said. Spencer slowly reached to pick up the paper and opened it.

Good job Doctor! You found something. Hopefully you find her on time! Ring, ring!

Emily looked at Spencer confused. “Ring, ring?” As if on cue Spencer’s phone began to ring. “What’s up, Garcia?” Spencer asked urgently.

“You need to get back to base, now.” Garcia sounded like she was near tears.

________________________________________________________________

You tried to tear your eyes away from the screen, but you couldn’t. The news reruns had turned into home videos that Curtis had made. You remember how Reid had explained that they had found the camera Andrew Curtis had used, but no physical films had been found. “Like they had disappeared.” He had said.

 It had driven him and his team nuts because Curtis had worked alone, so who could have taken the film?

“Aren’t they beautiful darling?” The voice crackled through the PA. “Drew and I put so much work into them. It’s a work of art that Picasso would envy.”

“It’s perverse and disgusting, and it proves how truly sick you and Curtis are!.” You yelled, holding back a sob.

“Yet, part of you can’t bear to look away can you? Have you noticed yet?” He purred. 

You didn’t answer, tears flowed down your cheeks. 

He chuckled at your silence.

 “Oh you have, haven’t you? I bet you thought it was a sick coincidence that they looked like you, huh?” He mocked. “Drew told me all about the haunted looks in your Doctor’s eyes. How weak your Doctor was, how your Doctor could never find them in time. They were always dead before they got there.”

“Spencer worked his ass off to catch Curtis. He managed to stop him and he saved so many more lives than what Andrew Curtis took. Spencer is not weak for not getting there in time. Curtis is sick for killing those girls in the first place!” You snarled through your tears. 

“Ah, ah, ah darling. Drew is not a sick man, he’s a hero. He was like the big brother I never had, he protected me, he made sure even when he was caught I was not. Nobody would know I was even involved with him, so I could achieve my goal of having you- of putting that ridiculous Doctor in his place.”

You remained silent, your body trembling at his confession. Whoever this man was he had worked with Andrew Curtis and he had done it just to get you.

“Every girl was a mere tool to prepare me for when I got my hands on you. Drew told me my time would come. Even when he was caught, we wrote letters back and forth, we had a code you see. Nobody really trusts communication between a prior serial killer and innocent boy, they’ll corrupt you apparently. But we found a way around those who separated us. You see, Drew, my guide, my  brilliant mentor, the man who taught me so many things, was right, now I have you right in my hands.” 

“What are you going to do?” You asked terrified.

“Play a game.” You could hear the smile in the man’s voice.

________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST:

@andiebeaword @haylaansmi​ @parkastoria @possessedjoker @amronsparty@generaltheoristexpert @sierraraeck @coniumalces @tamedbyafox@anotherr-fine-mess @adoregin @rainsong01 @canyonnmoonn  @mggshoe @boxofsparklingmuses @richardpapensmuse @deanlenaz​ @rainsong01@goldentournesol @annesauriol @itsametaphorbriansblog@secretpickleprofessordean @shameleswhorehourstm @stepsofthefbi​ @iifloweringnightsii @mggsprettygirl​ @bravegirl221​ @messyhairday-me​ @n1ghtsh4d3-67​ @abbeypaw7​ @findmedontlooseme@hiiwouldlikesomesleepplease @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @thatsonezesty13

[reidgraygubler]

hot cocoa & cuddles (spencer reid/reader)

Title:  Hot Cocoa and Cuddles Request: no Pairing: Spencer Reid/Gender Neutral!Reader  Category: Fluff Content Warning: swearing (if any), mentions of murder/death, talk about the case Word Count: 4,199 Summary: Reader is freezing while they’re working on a case in Alaska. Spencer has some fun facts about body temperatures and conserving body heat  A/N: this is based on episode ‘Exit Wounds’ (ssn 5 ep. 21). nothing too bad, just fluff. i really liked writing this one, made me a softie™. anyways, enjoy!  check out my masterlist

{***}{***}{***}

I should have realized just how cold Alaska was going to be when we got on another plane to get to Franklin. Granted, Alaska is cold, and I should have known that before. But still… I’m happy I bought a blanket. And, I’m more than happy that I had the blanket over my lap on the plane. I’m guessing JJ was too, as she was cuddled beside me under my blanket.

“I’m never coming to Alaska again,” I muttered just loud enough for JJ to hear. She laughed and nodded, agreeing with my statement. The pilot of the plane told us all we were about to land and to brace for impact. God this was so much worse than the jet. At least on the jet, I can drink… Here I’m motion sick and miserable.  

Since JJ and I were the two smallest, next to Emily and Spencer, we were the first on… Making us the last off. But, let me tell you, I was more than excited to be off the stupid sea-plane and on still ground. It was a little embarrassing when I tumbled out of the plane and into JJ, who in turn tumbled into Spencer.

I was shocked by how cold it actually was. The coolness nipping at the back of my neck, the tip of my nose, and the ends of my ears. I’m sure my ears, nose, and cheeks were starting to turn red because of how cold it was. I’ve been cold since JJ mentioned coming to Alaska, and I just know I’ll never be warm again.

“Holy shit! It’s so freaking cold here!” I looked at the other members of the team. Spencer, who was standing closest to me, looked at me with an amused smile. I hugged my arms around my body to conserve some sort of heat, it was useless. “I’m freezing my tits off,” I spoke, mostly to myself. Emily looked over her shoulder at me with a sly smile, telling me she heard that. I winked at her, my smile being playful.

“Uh here,” Spencer spoke, pulling a hat from his pocket. I looked at it before picking up from his hands. “You tend to lose 7-10% of your body heat from your head.” He looked at me and smiled. I pulled the hat on to my head. 

“That… I guess that makes sense,” I shrugged, folding my arms back over my chest. Spencer looked down at me and smiled. “Thanks,” I smiled at him. He nodded, silently returning welcoming me. 

Hotch took the lead with the Deputy and Sheriff as he told everyone where to go. I was grateful when he told me to go with David and Spencer to the ME, where I’d be inside, semi-warm. Something about being in Alaska was telling me that I would never be warm again.  

“David, can you turn the heat up?” I leaned over the center console and looked at the person driving. David raised an eyebrow as he glanced over at me. “Please, I’m so cold,” I practically begged. He lifted his hand before turning the heat up. I smiled at him as I sat back in my seat. 

He pulled into a parking lot for what seemed to be an abandoned gas station but right next to it looked like a doctor’s office. I looked between the two men in front of me before unbuckling and following them out. 

“Doc Johnson,” a man spoke up from the porch of the doctor’s office. Spencer and I both looked towards his direction, watching as he stepped down towards us. 

I smiled and gave him my name. “And this is SSA David Rossi and Doctor Spencer Reid,” I smiled and gestured behind me to my colleagues. 

“Sheriff asked me to keep everyone on ice till you got here,” the doctor spoke as he led us towards a basement. I looked up at Spencer with a cocked eyebrow. “Still, I can't believe someone from Franklin Would be capable of this.” The doctor’s tone was filled with disdain. I could feel the darkness as we entered the basement. We all stopped right at the feet of the victims.

“What convinced you she was stabbed with the arrow Instead of shot?” I asked through a shudder. I couldn’t tell if it was from the bodies in front of us or if it was the freezing air. Probably a mix of both, to be honest. 

{***}{***}{***}

I shuddered as I poured myself hot cocoa. My blanket, which I conveniently packed, was draped over my shoulders like a cape. I could hear Derek and Penelope’s giggles from behind me.

“Smart of you to bring a blanket,” Spencer’s voice came from beside me. I smiled and looked up at him. He was making himself a cup of coffee. 

“The second JJ said we were going to Alaska, I knew I had to get a blanket.” I looked at him and smiled, pulling the blanket around me more. “Still freezing to death though,” I shook my head in disbelief. The ceramic mug was nearly too hot to hold, but I was beyond freezing. It felt nice to not be outside anymore, instead inside. The fire felt good, but I was still cold. 

“You’ll warm up,” Spencer laughed as he poured what seemed like an entire thing of sugar in his cup. I raised my eyebrows and nodded.

“You have enough coffee with your sugar?” I asked, bringing my mug to my lips. 

“Not sure there’s ever enough,” he shrugged sipping his coffee. I shook my head and turned to sit. He followed behind me, sitting beside me on the couch. 

“Garcia, how's it coming with town records,” Hotch asked, looking between Penelope and his case file. I looked at her and fixed my blanket as she tapped away on her laptop.

“I've run everyone who's been printed through CODIS. Nothing's come up so far. I'm gonna pull an all-nighter, finish going through the town records. Should have background checks by sunrise,” she nodded, looking up at Hotch with a smile. I yawned as I looked down at my hot cocoa. Derek, who was standing behind me, ruffled my hair and laughed. 

“I’ll have to agree with, Honeybee, here. I’m exhausted,” Derek spoke, looking around the room. Everyone else in the room had the same look on their face. A mix of determination for solving the case and finding the unsub, and wanting to pass out from exhaustion. A feeling we’ve all felt before when a case like this goes awry.

“I’ve got four rooms set up for you upstairs,” Carol, the owner of the tavern, spoke as she looked between different agents. I dropped my shoulders, my blanket falling off my body, and looked down at my hot cocoa. It comforted me in a weird way and kept me warm, which I will be internally grateful for. 

“Uh, four?” Spencer spoke up, cocking his head to the side. The disappointment and confusion in his tone almost made me laugh. I bit my lips so I wouldn’t let the laugh or smile show.

“Sorry, that’s the best I can do. I mean,” Carol gestured around the room to the 6 FBI agents. 

“Your team is nearly double the size of my department,” the sheriff spoke up, his tone unnecessarily rude. I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced a Spencer. He was looking down at the coffee table, his lower lip bit back between his lips. I snickered lightly as I brought my mug to my lips. “Goodnight,” the sheriff added before leaving with the deputy. 

“Goodnight,” Hotch nodded towards the sheriff. “Looks like we’ll have to double up,” he added, looking up from the file on his lap. I smirked again and looked around the room. 

“I’m not sleepin’ with Reid,” Derek spoke from behind Spencer, Penelope and I. I looked back over my shoulder and smiled, shrugging. 

“Dibs,” Penelope spoke as she reached back and grabbed Derek’s arm. I laughed and looked at Spencer, who returned his gaze back to the coffee table. 

“I’ll bunk with you,” I whispered as I nudged his shoulder. Spencer blinked as he looked over at me. He smiled shyly and nodded. I turned and looked up at Derek. “It’s not that hard, Worker Bee, sharing a room with Reid,” I looked at him. Derek rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Why don’t we all go and get some rest. We’ll have an early morning,” Hotch stood up, closing his file. I looked down at my hot chocolate and pouted. I’d have to leave the only thing keeping me warm behind to go to bed. 

“You can probably bring that with,” Spencer whispered to me before standing up. I looked up at him and shrugged. I was just sad that it’d get cold sooner rather than later and I was in no mood to get cold. 

“Yeah, probably could,” I whispered, as I adjusted the blanket back over my shoulders as I stood. I pulled it tighter around my body and followed behind Spencer. Carol handed over the key to the room to me as Spencer grabbed our bags. I smiled at her and looked down at the bronze key with a dark blue room tag. 

“Lead the way,” I looked up at Spencer. He nodded before taking the stairs up and towards our bedroom. I fumbled with the room key in my free hand while we walked down the hall. I silently celebrated as I got the key in my hand. Spencer stopped just to the side of the door and allowed me to try and unlock the room.

“You alright?” Spencer asked as I shakily put the key in the lock. I glanced at him and nodded, feeling a shudder go through my body.

“I’ve just been cold since we got here and can’t seem to warm up. Nothing is working,” I pouted, unlocking the door, for real, and pushing it open. “I think I have 3 pairs of socks on. I’m on my third cup of hot chocolate. I’ve got my blanket, sweater, and jacket… And, I’m still freezing.” I pouted as I unlocked the door. 

“Did you know the human body will start losing body heat as low as 68 degrees Fahrenheit?” Spencer spoke as we entered our room. “And, since it’s been approximately 34 degrees since we got here,” he added as he carefully placed our bags on the ground, just beside the door. I dropped my shoulders, my blanket once again falling off my body, when I saw it was a single, full-sized bed sitting in the middle of the room. “The human body loses about 2% of its heat through air conduction. Although… water causes more heat loss from the body than air does, so heat can be lost from the body very quickly when placed in close water.” He continued to ramble as he grabbed my blanket from the floor. I looked over at him, more annoyed with the single bed than his info-dump. “So, just don’t go swimming or conveniently get pushed into a lake,”

“Spencer,” I kept my eyes on him as he held the blanket between the two of us. I pulled it from his hands and draped it over my arm and cocked my head to the side. 

“Was I… Was I rambling again?” he asked, keeping his voice low like he was embarrassed from the amount of information he just gave. I blinked at him slowly and nodded.

“Yes, but that’s not why I’m annoyed,” I spoke, mildly annoyed as I brought my mug to my lips. I turned back and looked at the bed. Spencer followed my eyes and looked at the bed. A small “Oh,” fell from his lips in realization of why I was frustrated. “Rochambeau for the bed?” I glanced at Spencer as he stepped into the room more. He looked at me as he grabbed both bags. 

“You can have it,” he smiled as he entered the room. I watched as he placed the two bags on the bed before digging into his. I let out a small sigh of relief and entered the room. I pressed the door shut and turned back to look at him. He had pulled out his pajamas and towels to shower.

“You sure?” I asked, watching as he went towards the bathroom. Spencer stopped in the door frame and turned to look at me. He smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll sleep on the floor. Don’t worry about it,” he readjusted the grip on his clothes. I nodded and turned to look at the bed. “I’m going to take a shower real quick.” He jerked his thumb behind him towards the bathroom. I looked back at him and smiled.

“Sounds good,” I nodded. He quietly entered the bathroom, pressing the door shut behind him, leaving me alone in the room. I placed my hot chocolate on the side table before turning back to my luggage bag. I fished for my own pajamas. I really didn’t want to take off my jacket, sweater, and rest of my already warmed clothes. But, I also didn’t want to sleep in jeans. 

All well. I’d rather be comfortable and get warmed again than be uncomfortable. So, I quickly changed into my pajamas before slipping between the covers. My teeth were chattering so hard I was worried I’d break them. 

45 minutes later, Spencer stepped out of the bathroom. He was shaking his hair through a towel as he walked towards the bed. I glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows. He looked back at me, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, putting his dirty clothes into his bag. I nodded and swallowed roughly. He smiled, mostly because he knew I was lying. My body was visibly shaking from how cold I was. “You sure?”

“It’s so cold,” I pouted, pulling the blankets tighter. Spencer laughed and looked down at me. I silently cursed myself for not bringing or buying a hot water bottle to keep warm. “I’d do anything to get warm again,” I pouted. Spencer laughed again.

“It’s proven that cuddling is the best way to share body heat,” he spoke, draping his towel over the bathroom door. I sat up and looked at him. “Cuddling naked with your significant other, or even a dog if you’re single,” Spencer started as he made his way back towards me. I glared at him as I pulled my knees to my chest. I watched as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Under a blanket will warm you up faster than a fleece sweater, or sleeping alone with multiple blankets. Apart from being energy-efficient, there may be other added benefits as well,” he finished his info-dump and looked at me. I dropped my shoulders as I stared at him. “What?” 

“I’m not sleeping with you, Spencer,” I pointedly stared at him. He opened his mouth to protest but failed to speak when I continued. “Naked or not. I’m not sleeping with you. I’d rather be cold.” I stated. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was a lie or not, and I think Spencer couldn't decipher my statement either. Sure, I’d do anything to warm up… But I think cuddling with Spencer is where I draw the line. 

“But you sai-”

“Yeah, I know what I said. But, I’m not cuddling with you,” I pulled the blanket back around me as I coiled into the fetal position on the bed. Spencer laughed at me, again for the third time. I glared at him as he stood up. 

“Suit yourself then. Enjoy being cold then,” he winked at me, causing me to roll my eyes. I watched, as best as I could, as he pulled the extra bedding from the closet to make a makeshift bed area on the ground beside the bed. “Did you turn the heater up?” He asked. Pfft, did I turn the heater up? What kind of idiot does he think I am?

“No,” I looked anywhere but him, pulling the blanket over my head. I let out a deep sigh as Spencer chuckled. “Listen! All I was thinking about was changing into my pajamas and getting under the covers! I didn’t think about the radiator! Because I was cold!” I half-shouted through the blankets. The bed dipped beside me, telling me Spencer was sitting down. I pouted before pulling my head out of the blankets. “Can I help you? I’m busy?” I glared at him.

“Really? What’s keeping you busy?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. I glared and looked down at my body, under the blankets. 

“I’m trying to re-warm myself because it’s damn cold out here!” I half-shouted as I pulled my knees to my chest. Spencer smiled at me before ruffling my hair. “Hey!” I glared at him again. 

“Well, I turned the heater up for you. Sleep tight,” he smiled as he shut the light off before laying down in his makeshift bed. I rolled my eyes as I tried to get more comfortable. Granted, it was useless because I was beyond cold. I was freezing. Sleep would never come and I would probably wake up still cold and in a bitter mood. I hate the cold. 

{***}{***}{***}

“Alright,” Spencer spoke to the dark room. I furrowed my eyebrows as I rolled to face where he was. I could just barely make out his silhouette in the dark-ish room. “I can’t sleep with the teeth chatter,” he spoke, turning the light on. I let out a groan of protest as the light hit my eyes, nearly blinding me. Great, now I’m mostly blind and cold! I pulled the blanket tighter around me and looked in Spencer’s direction. 

“What… What are you do-doing?” I spoke through chattering. Spencer looked at me as he picked up the pile of blankets on the ground.

“Well, assuming you’re still, as you put it earlier today, freezing your tits off, I’m going to change that,” he muttered, pulling the blanket off my body. I widened my eyes and let out a small yelp. The cold was instantly at me. Like needles poking at my exposed skin.

“Spencer!” I half-screeched as he laid down next to me. He was quick though, moving closer beside me as he pulled the covers back over us. “What… Are you mad!?” I turned to look at him, my eyes wide. He reached behind him to shut the light off before wrapping his arms around me. “This isn’t just some way to get in bed with me… Is it?” I asked, not entirely sure if this was real. But, of course, it was in fact real. Spencer Reid just pulled the covers off me and laid down in bed to keep me warm. “Seriously?” I stared at him with wide eyes.

“Seriously. Sharing body heat can keep a person warm,” he looked down at me. I stared at him, this moment entirely too intimate for two friends and co-workers. “I know I’m already warming up,” he shrugged, nuzzling his head into the pillow beneath him.

“Probably has something to do with not being on the floor anymore,” I pointed out, a small smile on my lips. Spencer laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, that probably has something to do with it,” he opened his eyes and looked back at me. He had a small smile on his lips, making me want to laugh. 

“We’ll see if your theory is true, Reid,” I looked up at him as I turned around, making it so my back was pressed to his chest. He was careful as he wrapped his arms around my middle, resting right under my chest. His legs suddenly got tangled and mixed up with mine. And, he rested his head right on top of mine. Part of me wanted to hold his hand, but another part was screaming at me and telling me that we should not be cuddling, no matter how warm I was getting. 

 I exhaled a deep breath, suddenly feeling safer and warmer than before we went to bed. Damn, he wasn’t wrong, I am getting warm. Of course, Spencer Reid isn’t wrong. Bastard is always right… About freaking everything. 

“Are you warming up?” Spencer asked, his voice low and filled with sleepy. I smiled softly and nodded. He hummed, clearly pleased with my answer. “Do you want me to go back to the floor?” his tone sounded pitiful. 

“No, no you’re fine, Spence,” I whispered, giving up and just grabbing his hand. He hummed again, happy that I’m holding his hand. “I think it’s because of the extra blankets though. Nothing else,” I laughed, taking note in the 4 blankets over our bodies. When should I start to worry about overheating and will that be possible? I sure hope not.

“That’s it? Nothing else?” Spencer mused. It was clear he was suppressing a laugh, which only made me laugh. I smiled and shook my head.

“I think that’s it,” I chuckled and nodded. Spencer let out a breath of air, which tickled the back of my neck. I laughed as I pulled the blanket tighter around me. “We should get some rest, Spencer. Early morning,” I pointed out and repeated with Hotch had said earlier in the day. 

“I like your thinking,” 

{***}{***}{***} 

“How’d you sleep?” Spencer asked as I tied up my shoes. I looked up and shrugged. He was fixing the bed, making it so it was nice when we got back. I’m happy he was awake a while before I was, making it not awkward for either of us to wake up in each other’s arms. He was ready for the day well before I was even awake. 

“I slept okay. Crick in my neck though. It’ll go away over time,” I stood up and grabbed my sweater and jacket. I walked back over to Spencer as he was smoothing out the final wrinkle. “But, it was some of the best sleep I’ve gotten in weeks,” I smiled at him. He glanced up at me, a small smile on his lips. 

“Did you get too warm? Or… Uh… Were you-” he started to ask but gave up because he was tripping over his words. I chuckled as I pulled my sweater on. 

“I was comfortable. Thanks for asking,” I shrugged my jacket on, “Only my toes were cold, but that’s an easier fix than the rest of my body,” I winked at him. I pulled the hat he gave me yesterday out of my pocket and pulled it on my head. 

“Yeah! I can complain about that!” Spencer exclaimed as he pulled his own jacket on. I rolled my eyes but smiled nonetheless. “Does that mean you want me in the bed again tonight?” he asked as we walked towards the door. “Or do you want me back on the floor?” He asked, his voice softer than before. I grabbed my small throw blanket and folded it back up, draping it over my arm.

“Only if you can keep me warm like you did last night,” I smiled as we both left our room. Spencer chuckled and nodded. 

“I’m sure I can make that happen,” he whispered as we headed towards the commons room. Everyone, other than Emily, was sitting around the room and drinking coffee. 

“What’s got you two all smiley?” Derek half-grumbled as we entered the room. I looked back at him and beamed. Spencer stepped away from me to make himself a coffee.

“Can you make me hot cocoa?” I looked away from Derek and towards Spencer. He smiled and nodded. “Just had a really good night of sleep. Slept like a log,” I looked back at Derek as I took a seat on the couch. I folded my blanket over my knee and waited for Spencer to come back.

“Oh, so Pretty Boy and you are a thing now?” Derek asked. I laughed and shook my head.

“No, he slept on the ground… Just like you,” I smirked at him. Spencer handed me a mug of hot chocolate and I was slightly warm again. “For the first half of the night,” I said the last half under my breath. Spencer glanced at me and shook his head. 

“I slept amazing last night. I don’t know about you,” Spencer looked across the room and towards his friend, “The temperature was just right. Not too hot, not too cold,” he added with a small smile. It was my turn to smile and shake my head. 

“Hold up, how did you get warm on the floor?” Derek asked, looking at Spencer with disbelief on his face. 

“I guess my radiator is better than yours,” he retorted as he sipped his coffee. I looked over at Spencer before sneaking a quick glance at Derek. 

“Clearly something happened between you two. When you guys are ready to tell the rest of the class, I’m sure we’ll be delighted to hear,” Derek stated as he crossed his arms over my chest.

Yeah, we’ll just let them think something happened. Because all that actually happened was two friends keeping each other warm. Nothing actually happened.

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[spencersglasses]

Paradise

A/N: *GIF IS NOT MINE* sup y’all! i know it’s been a phat sec since i’ve posted a fic but i was playing Paradise by Coldplay on my guitar and this idea popped into my head :) i know it’s not amazing but hope y'all enjoy!!! ALSO REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Couple: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: ANGST with small bits of fluff

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING!!! mentions of blood/case details (involving children), death (of a CHILD), self depreciation, lots of crying

Word Count: 1,690

Summary: Reader blames herself for the death of a victim so she sings her heart out the second she gets home. 

———————————

3 minutes and 15 seconds. That’s how late I was. 3 minutes and 15 seconds. Because of my ignorance, a 10 year old beautiful little innocent girl is dead. 

Her name was Addylin Louise Davis, a bright 10 year old girl from Charlotte, North Carolina. She was a friend of a previous victim within this case, Tiana Lee. Best friends, inseparable, is how both sets of parents described them. I was the agent assigned to sit and hang out with Addilyn while her parents were questioned in regards to Tiana’s murder. Her parents had already told Addilyn that Tiana was, “in a better place.” Although she didn’t quite understand what they meant, she was still upset to know that she won’t be able to see her best friend again. When I was with her, I decided to ask her about her toys and what she wanted to be when she grew up. Watching her eyes sparkle and fill with passion when she spoke about wanting to become a chef. The entire time she was at the station, she never fled from my side, sticking to me as if her life depended on it. 

Now, as I stand over her lifeless body as the rest of the team cuffs and drags the unsub out of the building, I can’t help but want to scream. The tears streaming down my face were enough to blur the image of her before me. I kneeled down and held her hand, which could only fit around my ring finger less than 24 hours ago, now feeling as cold as ice. I lay a small kiss on her, praying that she’s no longer in pain. Praying that she and Tiana are having the time of their lives in heaven. 

As I was about to let go, I felt a hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump slightly.

“Sorry,” Spencer apologized, removing his hand quickly. “The parents are here, the coroner needs to take her now.”

I gave a slight nod, looking back at Addilyn. I lay her hand back down gently upon her chest, slowly standing back up. 

As we walked out of the unsub’s house, I immediately saw the parents. Their faces were covered in worry and pain; they haven’t been told the news. I walked over to Hotch, asking if I could be the one to deliver the news. He gave me a sad look, slightly nodding. I nodded back before making my way over to the parents. They immediately looked up at me, seeing the pain in my face and the blood on my hand that held their daughters.

“I’m so sorry.” is all I could say. I watched as both the parents broke down before me, the overbearing pain overtaking them. I turned away and walked back towards my team, shielding my face because of the tears streaming down my face. When I looked up, all I could see were looks of sympathy from everyone. Before anyone could ask if I was okay, I confirmed, 

“I’m fine, let's just wrap things up and get home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The flight back home was silent. The same happened almost every time we had a case that went badly, especially ones involving children. Most of the team were asleep towards the back of the plane while I chose to sit by the window towards the front. No matter how hard I attempted to fall asleep, all I could see was Addilyn. Every time I blinked or closed my eyes for a millisecond, she was there. 

Spencer was the only member of the team who was on my side of the plane. Knowing how I get during cases like this, he understood that I needed my space and would come to him if I needed anything. 

Once the plane landed, Hotch decided to let the team off the hook for the night because of how intense the case had been. Spencer and I immediately said our goodbyes and made our way to our car as quick as possible. The drive home was comfortably silent, Spencer being the one to drive because he knew I wasn’t in the best state of mind for driving right now. His hand was on my thigh the entire way home. Although I wasn’t one for physical touch in times like these, I didn’t mind it too much.

As the door swung open, I immediately bee lined towards the shower. Although I had cleaned up at the station, I still felt like I was covered in blood and dirt. Letting the warm water wash over my body, I closed my eyes for longer than I intended, seeing images of Addilyn pop back into my brain. I felt the hot tears streaming down my face as I opened my eyes, attempting to erase the guilt that overtook my body whenever I thought of her. I stepped out of the shower after shampooing, conditioning and scrubbing my body. I wrapped myself in a towel, making my way out of the bathroom into Spencer and I’s shared bedroom. We had decided to move into Spencer’s apartment, as it was bigger than mine and could accommodate both of our things. The smell of cinnamon and books lifted some of the weight off my shoulders and I began to get redressed in one of Spencer's old shirts and my own old basketball shorts. 

Although my body was begging me to just jump in bed and sleep, my mind was too caught up with the case to allow me the pleasure. So, I resorted to one of my most therapeutic activities. I grabbed my guitar from the corner of the bedroom and sat on our bed. I tuned it by ear before relishing in it’s beautiful sounds. I grabbed my capo that was attached to the top of the guitar and clipped it on the 3 thret, strumming downwards to make sure I was playing in the correct key. The only song I could think of when Addilyn came into my mind was Paradise by Coldplay. 

As I began strumming to the beat, I could feel my worries fade slightly before I reached the verse. But as I began to sing, everything came back to run me over like a truck.

“When she was just a girl, she expected the world. But it flew away from her reach, so she ran away in her sleep and dream of Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise. Every time she closed her eyes.” I sang, feeling myself choke up, the tears streaming down my face once again. 

Little to my knowledge, Spencer had heard you starting to sing, feeling his heart wrench at how your voice broke. He knew how therapeutic playing guitar was for you and he loved hearing you sing when you played. He was sitting on the couch, reading War and Peace for what felt like the 100th time. As he set down his book, taking a mental note about where he was, he walked over to the closed bedroom door, lightly knocking 3 times. He heard a small, “Come in,” from the other side of the door. When he turned the knob, his heart broke at the site. As he tried not to show his emotions, he asked, “Can I listen?”

I gave him a quick nod as he sat down on the bean bag chair in the corner of the room. I continued to play through the chorus before reaching the second verse.

“When she was just a girl, she expected the world. But it flew away from her reach, and the bullet catch in her teeth. Life goes on, it gets so heavy. The wheel breaks the butterfly, every tear a waterfall. In the night, the stormy night, she closed her eyes. In the night, the stormy night away she’d fly. And dream of Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise, Para, Para, Paradise. Oh. She dream of  Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise, Para, Para, Paradise.” 

As I finished the second verse, I looked up at Spencer. I could see the tears flowing out of his eyes as well. He looked hypnotized by my strumming and singing, as if he couldn’t hear my voice constantly breaking or going off pitch at the notes that were slightly out of my range. I knew that if I didn’t finish the song now, I wouldn’t be able to for the rest of the night, so I played through the chorus as I reached the bridge.

“La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. So lying underneath the stormy sky. She said oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. I know the sun was set to rise. This could be Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise, Para, Para, Paradise. Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh.”

Instead of playing through the other 5 repeats, I brought the song to its end by playing down strums, humming the ending. As I finished, I heard a faint clapping coming from Spencer. I looked up to see that he was crying just as much as I was. I put the guitar back where it was then sitting back down on the bed, patting a spot next to myself. Spencer came and sat next to me, opening his arms for me to cling onto him if I needed to. I accepted the offer and we just sat there, hugging, crying to ourselves. 

“You have a great voice by the way.” Spencer finally broke the comfortable silence through his sniffles. I chuckled, thanking him. “I’m here for you, you know that right?” Spencer asked seriously, moving his body back in the slightest so he could look me in the eye. I nodded, finally feeling drowsy after singing my heart out. I looked back up at him, admiring his now blushed face, still a little wet from the previous tears. I give him a little kiss on the cheek before saying, “I’m here for you too. Let’s head to bed before one of the neighbors files a noise complaint.” Earning a slight chuckle from Spencer. 

[reidmania]

PLEASE cell block d me. BEGGING ON HANDS AND KNEES.

he can cell block d me any day

[dontshootmespence]

Switching Personas

A/N: I had two anon requests for Spencer being dominated with a little light bondage. No titles though, such as mistress.

Warnings: Submission, Dominance, Bondage.

                                                               ----

“Excuse me? Did you just mouth off to me Spencer Reid?” 

He’d had a bad day, but I knew just what he needed.

The immediate straightening of his stance and the alert in his eyes despite the fact that he had has back turned to me in the kitchen told me all I needed to know.

“No, honey. Not at all. W-W-Why would you think that?”

As I crossed the living room and strode into the kitchen, my finger floated underneath his chin and tipped it upward slightly. “I sensed a little sass in your voice. You know I don’t appreciate that. I know you had a bad day at work but that’s no reason to take it out on me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes darkening with need. Being dominant wasn’t my default, but I did enjoy it every now and then, and right now he was in the mood for me to take control.

A smirk formed on my lips as I tried to read his thoughts. I had a pretty good idea of what he wanted, but I always insisted on hearing it straight from him - at least in these situations. “If you need something from me, or you want something from me, I need you to tell me.” I arched into him and placed my hands on his chest, raking my fingernails over the material of his shirt.

“Make me forget the case?” His wavered and for a second my composure crumpled. Eventually, maybe tomorrow, he’d tell me what went wrong, but tonight he needed a distraction.

“How?”

“Tie me up. Don’t let me talk. Anything.” His head fell into my shoulder. He was so tense. I admired him for what he did, but some days I wondered how much longer he would last staring evil in the face. 

Standing up on my tiptoes, I kissed him, my lips soft, insistent, and full of promise. “Go inside. Take your clothes off and I’ll be there to take care of you.”

He kissed me hungrily, thankful for the upcoming chance to clear his mind.

I had nothing else to do, I just know that he enjoys the buildup - up until that moment that I would take his troubles away.

After letting a comfortable silence fill the apartment, I walked toward the bedroom. It was lucky I decided to wear sexy lingerie just for the fuck of it. I lifted the shirt over my head to reveal a burgundy lace bra. He was completely naked just as I’d instructed, his cock slowly coming to attention. “There will be no touching, no talking, and no coming without my express permission. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said softly.

Before anything else, I grabbed the ball gag. We shared one, but tonight it was his turn. Straddling his torso, I placed the gag around his head, leaning over to fasten it in the back. I sensed his hand floating near me, so I hit it away. “What did I say?”

“Sorry.”

The not touching was always the hardest part for him. Even without the gag, he could keep quiet, and although not coming was difficult, he could do it, but the touching me was a whole other story. I finished fastening the gag and got off of the bed, heading toward the closet to grab the rope.

As I painstakingly tied each limb to the bed, ensuring with each knot and pull that he was comfortable but restrained, I could feel the arousal pooling between my legs. Maybe it would be a nice picture for him if I took off my jeans? Shimmying them down my legs, I kicked them to the side and returned to what I was doing, waiting for him to stare at the noticeable spot of dampness. “Do you like what you see?” I asked, pulling the last knot tight. 

He nodded enthusiastically so I did something I’d never thought of before. I dipped my hand into my panties, slipping two fingers between the folds and removing them. Spencer stared in awe at the arousal coating my fingers and looked expectantly toward me. “No talking. Just tasting.”

Lifting the ball gag, I slipped my fingers into his mouth and hummed at the suction he created around them and the delight he took in my taste. “Now, I’m going to take what I want and you’re going to watch.” I slipped the panties down my legs and straddled him again, placing him at my entrance and sliding down slowly, taking him inch by inch until he was fully sheathed inside me. 

When he moaned around the ball gag, I nearly came right then, but that wouldn’t be any fun at all, so I started by rolling my hips in figure eights, watching as his eyes rolled back into his head. 

His soft moans and whimpers, stifled by the gag, and the gentle slapping of my skin against his was everything we both needed. “Do you like that?” I asked, bending down so that I was flush against him.

Spencer only nodded, unable to say anything around the gag and unlikely to try considering he’d be breaking my rules. But then again, he was straining against the ropes trying to get to me, so maybe he would’ve. “Good, I’m glad. But no coming until I have. Understood?”

Again he nodded his head vigorously. 

“Good.”

It was fun to stare him right in the eyes as I lifted my hips up and down, feeling his cock hit the deepest parts of me over and over and over again. “You have such a nice cock, you know that?”

When he whimpered, it was enough to start me toward that precarious cliff. “Fuck, baby. Fuck. Spence. Oh my god. Mmmm. Yea, fuck.” I reached down and used my hands to balance on him while my hips slapped down into him for the last few times before I started to shake. “Oh fuck.”

Quickly, I dipped my head down to taste myself off his length and moved up toward his face removing the ball gag before taking his mouth in a heated kiss. “You may speak now,” I said with smirk.

“Can I come now? Please? Let me. I’m begging you.”

“Begging?” 

He almost immediately regretted those words, but after the day he’d had I wasn’t about to deny him. Slowly, I stroked his cock, feeling him pulse in my hand before I gave him the okay. “You can come whenever you want to. Thank you for asking.”

Spencer cried out, his seed spilling onto my hands. “Oh hell, Y/N. You’re...” He huffed and puffed as I pulled every drop from him.

“Feel better?”

“So much,” he sighed.

Before untying him, I went to clean up, washing my hands thoroughly before returning to him and releasing the ropes. “I’m so glad I could help.”

Spent, he turned into me and pulled the bra below my breasts. I’d totally forgotten that I’d never taken it off. “You always help,” he said. “You may like the way I look all vulnerable and everything, but I am in heaven anytime I see your body blush like this.”

@prettyboyeffect @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @lukeassmanalvez @kalie-bee @veroinnumera @lookwhatyoumademequeue @cynbx @tippy06 @smolldork @marvelouslyme96 @literallyprentissstwin @adropintheocean1234567 @grace-for-sale @hogwarts-konoha @girlscrushes @captainreid @ggyolo17 @chickenstringlights @sebba-hiddles @captainjaspenor @hellaqueerangelofthelord

[reidmania]

mama e papa 🙏🙏🙏

i want them both SO BAD

Aging like a fucking wine

Matthew and Aubrey at her new movie premiere

[sweater-vest-reid]

All You Need is Love: Chapter Sixteen “Happiness is a Warm Gun”

A Love Story Told by The Fab Four / Inspired by “Across the Universe”

Spencer Reid: a genius, hardworking, dedicated FBI profiler. Persephone “Percy” Jacobson: a passionate, brilliant, ambitious FBI specialist, and the newest member of the BAU. Spencer doesn’t believe in soulmates. Persephone doesn’t believe in happy endings. Told nonlinearly, watch as time, each other, and The Beatles, proves them wrong.

Chapter List

~~~~~

A/N: The first part is inspired by Reid’s conversation about mold and addiction during “Full-Tilt Boogie”. Also, I have no idea how to write about addiction or withdrawal so bear with me pls. I also wanted to talk about Percy’s PTSD because I think that it’s important to note that, unlike on CM, PTSD (and mental illness as a whole) is a lifelong struggle, and that PTSD especially doesn’t just go away after the one year mark. Bonus points to me for the heathers reference lol. WARNING: This chapter talks about drug addiction and metal illness.

Listen here

~~~~~

She's not a girl who misses much She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand Like a lizard on a window pane.

{2007, 02x18, "Jones"} "Hey Reid, what's going on up there?" Morgan asked.

The team was on their way to New Orleans. Spencer, usually the first to start a conversation on the jet, was silent. He faced forward, lost within his own thoughts. That was Percy's first clue that he wasn't alright.

"I was just thinking about this own friend of mine from Las Vegas. Ethan," Spencer replied, "Pretty sure he lives in New Orleans now."

"Really? You gonna give him a call?" 

"We grew up competing against each other in absolutely everything," he explained, "Spelling bees, science fairs. We also both had our hearts set on joining the bureau, but the first day at Quantico he backed out."

"He probably just couldn't take the heat" Emily joked.

Spencer glared at her, "That's not really for us to judge is it?"

Spencer snapping at his teammates? That was Percy's second clue. 

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on with Spencer. Percy knew the reason he was so distracted, and the reason why he held on to his briefcase so tightly. Did he really think it was a good idea to bring the drugs on a case with him?

Morgan turned to Percy, desperate to relieve the tension between Prentiss and Reid.

"So, Jacobs, you planning on seeing your family while you're back in NOLA?" he asked her.

"First of all, please don't say NOLA out loud. It sounds dumb. Called it New Orleans, I'm begging you." Percy laughed, "I already called my brother. He said he's not working on this case, but I'm sure we'll see him around the station."

"What about your mom?" Hotch asked, "Have you told her you're in town?"

"No, not yet."

"Is something wrong? You two not getting along or something?" asked JJ.

Percy shook her head, "No, it's not that. When I took this job, my mom made me promise that if I was in town on a case, I wouldn't visit her until the case was over."

"And why is that?" asked Emily.

The whole team was focused on her. Percy didn't talk about her private life, so the team was hanging on to every last word. 

"She's deeply disturbed by the work that I do, and she knows that if I visit her before I finish a case, she'll end up hearing about it in some way. Even if I don't talk about it, she'll still know. When I was younger, she used to say that she could always tell what I was thinking, even if I was trying to hide it from her. All she had to do was look at my face and she'd know what was going on."

The last few words she spoke directly to Spencer, and he knew his secret was out. He thought he was hiding his addiction well enough, but Percy saw right through his ruse. 

Out of habit, he reached over to his right arm. Through his sweater, he felt for the bruises that dotted his arm. He pressed down on them, hoping the pain would distract him, but it did nothing to suppress his intense craving. 

After all, the only thing stronger than his desire to quit was his desire to keep going.

I need a fix 'cause I'm going down Down to the bits that I left uptown I need a fix 'cause I'm going down

{2007} Spencer placed another stack of books on his table. It was his day off, and he planned on spending it at the library. He read book after book, trying to suppress the craving that was taking over his life.

He was trying to quit, he just didn't know how. His research told him that the drugs would be out of his system within a few weeks, that the withdrawal for his particular vice of choice was quick.

He didn't believe a single word.

It was all he could think about. No matter what he did, no matter how many books he read or how many documentaries he watched, all he could think about were those two little vials that sat in his bedroom.

He knew he should get rid of the bottles, but he was scared. The dilaudid was the only thing that let him sleep through the night. At this point, he hadn't slept in three days. 

But he'd rather never sleep again than continue to hurt himself like this. He wanted to be in control of his body again. He was just worried about what it would take to get that control back.

The book he was currently reading wasn't distracting enough, so he slid it to the side, turning his attention to the piles of books that sat in front of him. While searching for a new book, his ultimate distraction appeared in front of him. 

Percy stood across the room, scanning the shelves. She already had a few books piled in her hands. Spencer was surprised to see her there. He came to this library often, and he never saw her here. 

Spencer slouched in his chair, trying to hide from her sight. Normally, he would have hoped she'd come over to him. He loved talking with her. Her presence alone was enough to brighten his day. But at that moment, Spencer just needed to be alone. 

He knew that Percy knew about his addiction. At this point, he suspected that the whole team knew. They would constantly ask if he was alright and if he wanted to talk. It frustrated Spencer. However, Percy never asked. She didn't treat him differently. But, sometimes, he caught her staring at him, her face full of sadness and pity.

Spencer watched as Percy stopped scanning the shelves and started scanning the room. He quickly pulled the book in front of his face, but it was too late: she'd spotted him.

He listened as her footsteps grew closer. She pulled up a chair, and sat down, setting her books on the table. 

"I know you'd rather not see any of us today, but I needed to talk to you." She began. Her voice clear and steady, as if she'd rehearsed for the conversation. "I know what's going on Spencer. And we don't talk about it, but I'm sure the rest of the team does too." 

Spencer shifted in his seat, keeping his eyes glued to his book. 

Percy took a deep breath, "When I was younger, I got into some bad stuff. My mom tried to help me. She was incredibly supportive. But that wasn't enough for me. I continued down my bad path. So, my mom switched gears. She forced me to fix myself. She forced me to turn my life around. I wouldn't be where I am today if she hadn't given me that tough love."

The book he was holding slowly dropped to the table, exposing his face to Percy. His eyes, however, refused to make contact.

"So, I'm going to give you that same tough love. You have to get better, Spencer. Not for the team, not for your job, but for you. And you're going to need help. People always think they can do this alone, but they never can. I get it if you don't want to ask us for help, and I not going to push you to do that."

Percy grabbed her books and stood up, "Have a good day off, Spencer. I'll see you at work."

Percy walked away, leaving one of her books behind. 

"Hey!," Spencer called quietly, "You left one of your books!"

But Percy was already gone.

A small piece of paper slid out from the book, and Spencer leaned down to pick it up. On the front, it read: Beltway Clean Cops.

He knew her coming here wasn't a coincidence. She wanted to help him, and out of respect, she did it when they were alone so the curious eyes of the team wouldn't interrupt.

Maybe she was right. What he really needed was some tough love.

He looked down at the paper, reading the information when he noticed a small handwritten note at the bottom. 

Please, Spencer. Get well soon.

Mother Superior jump the gun Mother Superior jump the gun

{2009} Percy shuffled papers around on the desk. She was frustrated. A file she'd pulled five minutes prior had mysteriously disappeared. She wanted to double check the information before the team delivered the profile, and she only had a few minutes left. She dug through the last pile, accidentally knocking the papers under the desk.

"Fuck me gently with a chainsaw" Percy mumbled as she climbed under the desk to clean up the mess.

"You alright down there?" 

The voice startled Percy, causing her to bang her head on the desk. With the papers in hand, she climbed out. Spencer stood before her, a cup of coffee in one hand and a file in the other.

Percy rubbed the sore spot on her head and stared at the file he was holding. It was the one she had been looking for. 

"Percy?" Spencer asked, "You okay? You hit your head pretty hard."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Is that the file on the unsolved double homicide in 2007?" Percy asked, frustration leaking into her voice.

"Yeah, I wanted to skim it over again. Make sure I didn't miss anything." 

Percy inhaled sharply, placing her hands on her hips. She was trying her hardest not to get upset, but on that day her patience ran thin. Every voice she heard annoyed her, and every crime scene photo pushed her a little closer to the edge.

"I was looking for that," Percy stated coldly.

"Oh…my bad," Spencer said, handing her the file, "I should have told you I took it. Sorry about that"

"Jacobs. Reid. We're ready to deliver the profile." Hotch said as he walked past. Spencer turned to say something to Percy, but she had already walked away.

Spencer kept glancing over at her during the presentation. He was worried about her. Yesterday she'd been her normal self: bubbly, patient, motivated. But today, Spencer believed that knocking over a cup of coffee would be enough to set her off. 

"How are we supposed to learn about the attack if the victims' kids won't cooperate? Are there ways we can get them to talk?" asked a police officer. 

"Yeah. Kindness." Percy spat.

The officer was startled, "Excuse me?"

"Yes, the information the kids have is vital to the investigation, but these kids just lost both of their parents. They're not being uncooperative, they're in shock. They're grieving and we need to treat this situation with respect. Got it?" Percy finished her response with an ice-cold glare.

Percy quickly glanced over at the rest of the team, making eye contact with Spencer. She was far away, but he could have sworn her eyes were watering as if she was about to cry.

Percy was silent for the remainder of the presentation. Once the crowd of policeman dispersed, Percy stomped back over to the file covered desk. Spencer followed.

"Percy, did something happen?" Spencer asked.

"What are you talking about?" she responded, purposefully avoiding eye contact. 

Spencer leaned on the desk, "You're not acting like your normal self. You almost bit that policeman's head off. And before that, you were about to flip this desk over looking for that file."

"People have bad days, Spence. Get over it."

They were quiet for a moment. Spencer didn't want to give up just yet.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she spat.

"Percy please, I'm just trying to help"

Percy scoffed, "Well do me a favor and stop trying."

Percy stomped to the conference room, and Spencer followed again. Rossi was the only one in there and immediately noticed the tense atmosphere.

"Is there a problem?" he asked Percy. 

"Yeah: Prodigy over here doesn't know when to back off." She growled as she grabbed her purse. Percy made her way to the station doors, forcefully bumping Spencer's shoulder as she passed. 

"I don't know what I did," Spencer said as he watched her walk out of the building.

Rossi sighed, "This happens every year, kid. It's not your fault. Although, you should give her some more space."

"What happens every year? What do you mean Percy acts like this every year?" Spencer's asked, confused. 

Rossi looked at the young agent, his face going from understanding to shock, "She hasn't told you, has she."

Spencer shook his head. 

"It's July 28th, Spencer. That's why she's so on edge." Rossi explained. 

"I'm sorry Rossi. I'm still not following."

Rossi took a deep breath, "Today is the anniversary of her father's death"

Happiness is a warm gun When I hold you in my arms And I feel my finger on your trigger I know nobody can do me no harm

Percy leaned on the cold brick wall of the police station. Furiously, she dug through her bag, looking for the one thing she knew would calm her down. She'd hid it at the bottom of her purse, so there was no chance of the team finding it. Eventually, she retrieved the small box, pulling a lighter out with it.

It was a pack of cigarettes. The same brand her dad smoke when she was growing up. She opened the package, pulling out a single cigarette. She threw the rest of the pack away. The last thing she needed was to smoke the whole pack. She had no intentions of returning to her teenage smoking habits. 

She held it between her teeth and lit the end, a familiar and nostalgic smell surrounding her. Memories flooded her brain as she took a long drag. 

When she was little, she would remember hugging her father and smelling the cigarette smoke that settled into his sweaters. Her mother hated her father's bad habit, but Percy didn't mind. Secretly, she'd always enjoyed the smell.

Closing her eyes, she could almost imagine her father standing next to her. Percy savored the idea, knowing she would do anything if it could mean having one more moment alone with him. 

It had been over a decade since Percy came home from a friend's house to find her father's body. The anniversary always affected her, and mixed with their current case, her day was becoming a bit too much to handle.

Her doctors told her she had what they called uncomplicated PTSD. Percy would often re-experience her trauma and was the victim of frequent panic attacks. But Percy's case was a bit different: usually, people in her situation avoid stimuli that remind them of the trauma. Instead, Percy surrounded herself with reminders. Going to crime scenes, talking with families of victims. Her medication helped, but her therapist believed that the reason her flashbacks kept returning was because of her work. They'd recommended that Percy should distance herself from that world, even just for a short break, to let her mind begin to mend. But Percy's job meant the world to her, and she knew that walking away from it would do her more harm than good. 

She felt the tears begin. Percy didn't wipe them away, instead, she let them slide down her cheeks. She had a rough day ahead of her, she could allow herself a few tears. She took another drag, the bitterness of the smoke mixing with the saltiness of her tears. 

That's how Spencer found her: up against the outside wall, her cheeks wet and shiny, and a half-burnt cigarette balanced between her fingers. 

"I didn't know you smoked." He said, already uncomfortable with the situation.  

He'd startled her. He could see a touch of panic in her eyes as she faced away from him, quickly wiping the tears away before responding, "I don't. Not anymore."

Spencer inched closer to her, "That's a pretty conflicting statement coming from someone with a lit cigarette in their hand."

Percy looked down at the ground, and Spencer swore he saw a small smile. The Percy he knew (and loved) was still there, just hidden under layers of grief. 

"My dad used to smoke. The smell reminds me of him. Makes me feel close to him again." She replied sadly. 

There was a beat of silence before she spoke up again, "It's the anniversary- " 

"I know." Spencer interrupted, "Rossi told me."

She nodded, grateful for his interruption. She hated saying it out loud. "Every year I think I'm going to be better. And every year it's the same"

Spencer nodded in understanding. He knew what it was like when it felt that you couldn't control your own mind.

Percy dropped the cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with the heel of her boot. She could already feel the twinges of addiction creeping back in. She knew she needed to stop before it became an issue again. 

She knew she needed to walk back in. She had work to do. But she couldn't move. She didn't want to look at those photos again. Plus, she was embarrassed by her behavior. She'd crossed a line.

"Are you okay to head back in?" Spencer asked.

"I think so. That policeman just touched a nerve, that’s all" 

Spencer opened his arms, motioning for her to come to him.

Percy raised an eyebrow, "Spence? What are you doing?"

"Offering you a hug? At least that's what I'm trying to do."

She stared at him in disbelief, "You hate hugs."

"You need one. I can tell."

"What about my germs?" Percy teased, mimicking his tone, "You are aware that it's safer to kiss than hug?"

Spencer laughed, "I'll take my chances. Come here"

Percy needed no further convincing. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. He gently rubbed her back, the motion soothing her.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you" she whispered.

"it's okay. I'm sorry I was pressuring you to talk." He whispered back.

"You were trying to help, Spence. Don't worry about it."

"You know I'll always be there for you, right?"

Percy hugged him tighter, "I do, Spence. And thank you. You have no idea what that means to me."

Well don't you know that happiness is a warm gun, yeah

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[reidimagines]

Children and secrets part two

I suggest you read part one first.

Y/n sat in the back of the car while Spencer sat in front, their fight forgotten in the rush of trying to safe probably three people. As the car stopped, and all the FBI agents hopped out, pulling their guns, Y/n took a deep breath, a habit she had made. She knew this could be her last breath of fresh air. She hoped it wouldn’t be, but if it was, she would be ready. Or at least, almost. “Spence, I love you.” She whispered as Spencer Reid stood besides her, waiting for the sign to invade the house. “I love you too.” Spencer said, glancing down at the girl who still looked straight at the house. Hotch gave a sign, Morgan kicked down the door and everyone stormed inside like bees. Y/n, Prentiss and Spencer went to the small upstairs. There were only two rooms, but it was obvious in which room they were. Y/n nodded her head in that direction and kicked the door open. “Put down the weapon!” Emily called at the middle aged brunette who was holding a knife. A man and a woman laid on the ground, eyes open and full of fear, paralyzed by a drug. A baby boy was in the arms of the woman, knife pressed to it’s neck. He was crying softly. “Helen, You do not want to do this.” Y/n said, gun still pointed. “I do. They can not be happy and rubbing it in my face while I am not.” She said, voice cracking. Lowering her gun, Y/n stepped closer. “I know why you aren’t happy. You lost your child.” Helen lowered the knife. “Chase.” She whispered. “And your husband.” The woman let a tear fall. “I know you can’t have children, not anymore.” Helen got an angry expression, pressing the knife back to the boy’s throat. “I know how that feels.” Y/n said, putting her gun away. “You don’t! I’m sure you have a lot of children! liar!” Helen called. “I know what it feels like. I want children, really bad. But I can’t. Do you know why?” Helen shook her head. “When I was young, I got in a shooting, lost my dad. Got shot in the stomach. Lost my ovary’s. I know how much it hurts to not being able to have a child.” Y/n swallowed, seeing how Spencer slightly lowered his gun. “I can help you, you don’t have to hurt the baby. You don’t have to hurt anyone.” She whispered. Helen was silently crying, she dropped the knife, and was about to drop the baby when Y/n swiftly took him out of her hands. Emily sped to the woman, pulling her hands behind her back. Spencer called for an ambulance and Y/n focussed on making the baby silent again. “Shht... It’s okay. I am here, Mommy and Daddy will be fine. Just be quiet. You are safe now.” She cooed, rocking the baby and smiling, even though she didn’t feel like it. 

As the baby and his parents went to the hospital, Y/n watched them leave, knowing she couldn’t avoid Spencer any more. “Y/n, Why didn’t you tell me? We have been dating for almost six years.” Spencer sounded hurt, but Y/n was tired, and not in the mood to talk. “Don’t act so butt-hurt, Spencer. I never told anyone. Not even my best friends know. I am tired, and probably emotional. I am going to sleep. We can discuss this later.” But Spencer couldn’t wait, he wasn’t angry, just... Feeling. “No, Y/n. We are going to talk now.” She rolled her eyes. “Fine. When I was young, I got in a fight my stupid-ass dad caused and got shot in my lower stomach. I had three surgery’s, first lost one ovary, later the second because of a mistake my bitch of surgeon had made. I lived, what was a miracle. I knew I would never have children. My mother and I left the town, it was full of bad memories anyways. We moved far away and I never told anyone about my lost organs. Happy now?” She asked, feeling sad after telling her own story. “No, why didn’t you tell me?” She took a deep breath, she knew why, she just didn’t want to say it. “Because I love you. I know you wanted children, and I didn’t want to dispoint you, I didn’t want you to leave me. I didn’t want to break again.” A tear, the first tear he had ever seen from her, rolled over her cheek. “I would never leave you. There are other options. We can adopt.” He smiled and wiped away her tear. “I love you, and for some lost organs, I wouldn’t leave you.” 

A few months had passed, Spencer and Y/n were closer then before, partly because her secret wasn’t between them anymore. Spencer, however had been away a lot, recently. Y/n knew he wasn’t cheating, she just wanted to know what he was doing. So, she decided to ask during dinner. “Spence, I noticed you have been away a lot, lately. What’s up with that? Your mother?” She asked. He looked nervous, but shook his head. “No, no. I am planning something. Tomorrow, actually.” Y/n smiled and got curious. “Well, I’ve found out, so tell me.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Wait until tomorrow.”

The next day came too slow, in Y/n’s opinion. How much she begged, how much she said ‘fight me’, it didn’t matter, as he didn’t way anything and just looked amused. When the morning came, Y/n took revenge, waking up Spencer before the sun had woken up. However, he as still in a good mood. Around noon, he said she should get in the car. She did, happy to finally know what was going on. She was rather surprised when the orphanage came in view, and they stopped there. “What are we doing here?” She asked with a raised brow. Spencer only grinned and got out. 

“Oh, mister Reid. This must be miss Y/l/n?” He nodded. “Yes, she would like to meet her.” He said with a smile. “meet who? What is going on?” Y/n said, beyond confused. “Isobell. We thought you’d like to meet her before you sign.” The woman said before walking off. “Who is Isobell? What are we signing for?” Spencer didn’t answer and just followed the woman. They ended in a rather large room, with a play area, a few cribs and baby stuff. The woman already had a girl in her arms. “This is Isobell. She is six months, now.” The woman said and smiled as she handed her down at Y/n. Y/n looked at the baby and confusion became realization as she looked into those blue eyes, when she felt that strong hand hold onto her jacket. “Izzy?” Y/n asked with a smile. It seemed as if the baby knew her, what she couldn’t, obviously, but it still seemed so. “I was thinking about adopting her? Since her grandmother couldn’t take her in.” Y/n smiled widely. They had talked about adopting one more lately. “Yes. I would like that.” Her eyes were filled with happy tears. “Would you want to be a part of our little family?” She asked Izzy, a tear rolling over her cheek. 

Some time and research had started and ended. Isobell laying in Y/n’s arms as she walked through the house. “Yes, this is your new house. Do you like it? I hope you do, because this is where you will live.” She entered now Izzy’s room. “This is your room. Do you like it? We also have some nice clothes. But we do really need to go shopping, don’t we?” Y/n asked. The room was soft pink and white, stickers on the windows and the white closet open. The bed with pink blankets and a purple dog stuffed toy looked ready to use. She walked away again. “I wil be home a lot, for a few months. Isn’t that great? Now we need to wait for Spencer, he is getting some food. Not for you, because that is downstairs.” She smiled at the baby who was grabbing for her finger. Y/n gave her her finger and walked down the stairs. “I think he is there.” She whispered as the door opened. Spencer came in with a plastic bag. “How’s our princess?” Spencer asked, putting down the bag. “We were alone for fifteen minutes; She is fine.” Y/n said with a smile. “You hold her, I’ll set the table.” Y/n said, handing  the new father the baby. He looked down at her, but it didn’t take long for her to start crying. “You need to rock her.” Y/n said as she watched Spencer struggle. “Yeah, like that.” Y/n laughed as she put down two plates. “You’ll be a great dad.” Spencer smiled. “Not as great as you’ll be.” Y/n looked serious. “Yes, I’ll be a good dad.” She said, making him laugh. “She’s beautiful. I already love her.” She whispered, kissing her forehead. “She is prefect. Our little princess.” Spencer said, smiling down at Izzy. 

I hope you liked it! Do you maybe want another part? Or a few years later? That sounds like a good idea to me, but I don’t know if you’d like it, so be sure to let me know!<3