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it-was-summer · 3 months ago

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Video Killed the Radio Star - Tape #3 (Spencer Reid x Fem!reader)

A/N: I am exhausted this weekend so if at some point you feel like the writing shows that DON'T BE ALARMED. It is simply just me fighting back the urge to go to bed. The chapter does contain a good amount of sexual assault and violence so please, please, please be mindful of that while reading. I love all the comments here and Ao3, they make my day! I have also been noticing a lot of love towards the original of this series and I appreciate everyone for taking their time to read the remake! Please know that as of right now this thing IS NOT PROOFREAD I JUST NEED TO GET IT OUT! Stay safe, healthy, and happy! -Love, Em.

Video Killed the Radio Star Remake Masterlist

Link to the Ao3: Video Killed the Radio Star

Previous Chapter: Tape #2 > Next Chapter: Tape #4

WARNING: Cancer mentioned, sexual assault, blood, knife, cutting, mentions of death, death threats. Remember that you are not alone.

Tape Contents: Spencer and Derek are sent to discuss your abduction with Adeline. You fight back a sexual and physical attack from Heather. Heather reveals her plans for what will happen if anyone finds you.

Word Count: 4,029

March 5, 20XX

Spencer wasn’t too fond of hospitals, but he was fond of children. He interacted with them, loving that he could see how they processed information–new and old—every day. He loved Henry to bits, the way the kid was so willing to listen to Spencer’s ramblings or the way he was so amazed at a magic trick Spencer was doing.

Sick kids were a tragically different story, not that he didn’t like them. He always felt like… well, he was having a hard time conceptualizing it as he weaved through the crowded lobby. The pediatrics oncology unit was too packed for his liking. Statistically, he knew that one in two hundred eighty-five children could be diagnosed with some form of cancer before they hit twenty. That didn’t mean he had to like weaving through a small crowd of parents, doctors, and nurses on the way to room two hundred thirty with Morgan. There it was –the words for that feeling– watching someone younger than himself not being able to experience life at thirty.

After finding the friendship keychain, Hotch decided that Reid and Morgan should find your alleged ride-or-die, Adeline Smith. Meanwhile, Hotch and Prentiss would drive to Norfolk to talk to your mother. Rossi and JJ were handling some information with the police, so they were all paired away.

Derek and he slipped into the hospital room that housed Adeline and her daughter, Nicole. His chest tightened involuntarily at the sight of a mother stroking her daughter’s head, a smile on both of their faces. Derek was quick to speak, “Excuse me,” The mother and daughter jumped at the noise, and their eyes snapped to the hospital room door. “I’m Special Agent Derek Morgan, and this is Doctor Spencer Reid. We just have some questions.” His hands dug into his jacket pocket to pull out the badge, muscle memory for both.

Adeline’s hand fell from her daughter's hairless head to her shoulder, her fingers giving it a light squeeze. “Questions regarding?” She asked with a curious expression as she stood up, a skeptical look in her eyes.

Spencer’s eyes met Nicole’s for a second, a small smile rising to his lips, and she gave him a nervous smile right back. He moved his gaze over to Adeline, who was now standing with her arms folded across her chest as she waited for the two men to answer her question. Derek looked over his shoulder at Spencer, then back at Adeline. He gently motioned for her to follow him to a slightly more private area to talk to her, the two moving to a corner of the room near the bathroom.

“Were you aware that Y/N L/N was being stalked?” Derek’s voice was calm as Spencer approached Nicole’s bedside chair and sat in it awkwardly.

Spencer motioned towards the girl’s stuffed animal, a bright orange cat that sat in between her legs. “I love cats,” he said in a soft voice.

Nicole beamed at him, grabbed the stuffed cat, and happily petted the top of its head: “Me too! This is Bee.”

“Bee? Do you like Bees?”

Adeline’s eyes strayed to Spencer's conversation with her daughter, and she nodded a little at Derek’s question: “We talked about it. She went to the police.” She said, a little numbly, before her head suddenly snapped towards him. “Why?”

“She was taken from her apartment on March third. She recorded videos for the police to send to us, the Behavioral Analysis Unit, to help find her.” Derek explained gently as he watched Adeline’s face go pale.

Adeline grabbed her clothed chest and searched for a breath, her eyes wild as she looked at Derek’s face. Her eyes began searching for some hint in his face that he was lying, but she found none. She couldn’t stop the tears that were filling her waterline, and she turned her body away from her daughter and Spencer in a desperate attempt to hide her tears from her daughter. Her knees felt weak as she tried to breathe.

Spencer glanced back at Adeline and Derek, scooting a little to obstruct Nicole’s field of vision. He didn’t want the young girl to see her mother cry. Nicole shook her head slightly at his question, “No, not really. Auntie Y/N got her for me, and she loves bees.” She laughed softly, her words making Spencer’s heart melt a little.

“Is Bee your favorite?”

The girl covered the cat’s plush ears and smiled like she had a secret. “No, but she is my second favorite.” Her fingers scratched the stuffed animal’s ears gently. “Mr. Business is my first,” she whispered to him.

“Ah, and where is Mr. Business?” His eyes searched her hospital bed, and then he spotted a stuffed cat, a tuxedo cat. He grinned a little, and he motioned to the stuffed animal with his eyes, “Mr. Business is a very fitting name, I think,”

Adeline held out a hand for some space from Derek, and the hand clutching her chest came up to her mouth as she tried to keep from vomiting all over him. She had been stuck in this hospital when you had called her that first night. Having always loved talking to you, she answered enthusiastically. Still, the more she listened to the situation, the more she realized she didn’t have the emotional strength to comfort you the way you needed. And she said that to you. She said that to you. She couldn’t help you then, and she couldn’t help you now. She couldn’t even help her own daughter.

A sob rose in her throat, and she shook her head rapidly. “No, no, no, we talked on that day. Th-That night,” She recounted softly to Derek through her tears.

“What did you talk about?” Derek whispered the question softly as his eyes searched the room for some tissues, but his search was futile. He places a gentle hand on Adeline’s shoulder instead.

“We talked about college; she wanted her mind off of things, so we talked about our apartment when we were in grad school. It’s been two days! What have you been doing for two days while my best friend went missing?” Her cheeks were red, her fingers pointing accusingly at him before she sobbed softly, and her hand was moving back up to wrap around her mouth to muffle the sound.

“She didn’t show up to work on March fifth. That's when she was reported missing. We’re doing everything we can. What time did the two of you talk?”

“W-we talked around nine, maybe nine-thirty?” She whispered back softly before she started to breathe heavily again. “Why didn’t I call? I should have called again. It was getting so late, and she had locked all the doors, and I thought she was just being anxious. I should have called her again. I should have left the hospital to visit her.” Her mind was spiraling, the neverending rabbit hole that showed her all the ways she could have saved her best friend, unhinged its proverbial jaw and swallowed her whole, ready to digest.

Morgan wasn’t necessarily new to the information, as Penelope had already told him about your call logs from that evening, but he always liked to hear it be confirmed. It also helped him place an estimate of the time of your abduction. “Could you tell me about anyone, anyone at all, that might have been a little too into Y/N? Any ex-boyfriends that refused to leave her alone? Did she break up with anyone around Christmas?”

“No, she hasn’t dated anyone for almost a year.” Adeline sighed thickly and shook her head as she tried to calm down. “No, all her ex-boyfriends, they were always so mousy. ” She sighed, “And they always look alike,” she paused and gave a soft, sad chuckle, motioning over to where Spencer was as he continued to entertain her daughter. “Well, they all look like your Doctor friend, if I’m being honest. She’s always been too nice for her own good, even in college.”

Spencer tried to talk over the sobs that could be heard from the corner of the hospital room, clearing his throat or laughing as Nicole stumbled through a story. “She’s a loud crier,” Nicole whispered with a gentle pat on Bee’s head.

Spencer frowned as his efforts failed him, and he looked over his shoulder at Morgan, who was looking at him with a similarly sympathetic look on his face. He was about to say something when Nicole shoved Bee toward him, “You should give this to Auntie Y/N. Mommy said she was sad the other day. Bee always helps.”

Spencer turned the stuffed animal over in his hands, and he debated telling her the truth, but thankfully, his better judgment decided against it. “It’ll be the first thing I do when I see her,” Spencer promised softly as Nicole smiled wide at him.

As Derek and he walked out of the hospital, Derek’s eyes stayed on the stuffed orange cat in Spencer’s hands. As they pushed past a small group of people, Spencer found himself almost slamming into a pretty nurse, a gorgeous nurse. Her blue eyes blinked as she shuffled to one side, only to be unintentionally blocked by Spencer once more. She sighed a little and gave him a once over with a frown. Her eyes lingered on the gun holstered against his hip before she gave him a polite smile and said, “Excuse me,” and slipped past the two men with a determined look in her eyes.

Derek only said something when they got into the parking lot, the two of them walking to the black SUV, “Did you pick one up at the gift shop?”

Spencer groaned softly, making Derek chuckle as he walked around the car’s front to the passenger seat. “Open the door,” He said bluntly. When they were both inside the car, Spencer carefully placed the stuffed animal in his bag, and Derek chuckled again at the sight, turning the key.

“You didn’t even buy me one,”

March 5, 20XX

You were assuming Heather was angry with you. The assumption wasn’t baseless as the hunger in your stomach growled. You were quick to find that the harmony between a full stomach and morphine did matter and that harmony had left you many hours prior. You also were basing the assumption as you had spent what must have been a whole day fighting off tears and nausea.

The sick part was that you were beginning to get used to how your body got swarmed with heavy, hot, and benevolent warmth. The dull pain in your ankle was silenced under the warmth’s blanket of kindness. It reminded you of a heated blanket in a strange way.

You had finished the sips of your water before falling asleep and regretting it. You had learned that the bucket off to the side of the dresser was the perfect distance from the bed. Your broken ankle was dragging against the carpet with every movement. The chain around your good ankle didn’t snag as you sluggishly managed to hold your body up against the wall to pee into the bucket.

Once you were done, you hopped on your good leg and managed to pull your clothes back on. Your body fell face-first onto the bed, eliciting a soft groan from your lips as you found your body reluctant to move from its new home.

You closed your eyes and fell into the position, letting the bed sink in deeper. Your eyes snapped open with a sense of alertness that you hadn’t felt in hours as you heard the first click of a lock. Your arms weakly managed to push yourself up into a sitting position, pushing yourself back to your former position against the headboard. Your head throbbed at the fast movement, and your vision blurred as you tried to focus on the door.

When it slowly opened, you sucked in a small breath of air, watching as Heather slid into the room with a tray of food. “Hello, my Catherine.” She sighed as she shoved the keys into her scrub pocket with one balanced hand. “My, my, someone is looking pale today.” She asked as she sat down in the chair off the side of the bed with a gentle, pretty smile.

You nodded a little. Your lips were numb as you licked them. “What day is it?” Your voice came out quiet and strangled.

“Monday,” She stated simply as she twisted the top off a bottle of apple juice. She handed it over to your already waiting hands before she carefully lowered the morphine drip’s intake level. You greedily drank the juice without thinking twice, desperate to get something in your stomach.

You panted lightly as you pulled the half-empty bottle away from your lips, “Th-the date, I mean,”

“March fifth,” She rolled her eyes as she carefully rearranged a neatly made turkey sandwich on a paper plate, slowly placing the plate on the edge of the bed for you to take. “You moved in here early Saturday morning, don’t you remember?” she laughed out like it was the silliest thing she had ever heard.

You felt your mouth start to move to correct her, to tell her that you didn’t move in; she had kidnapped you. But as you stared at the turkey sandwich on the edge of the bed, you realized that playing along would be better. Playing along meant more food and less nausea. Playing along meant living longer. “Right,” You said breathlessly as you pulled the paper plate to your lap. “How could I forget?”

Heather smiled a little as she watched you bite into the sandwich, happy to see you adjusting. You were eating so fast that she was a little worried about your empty stomach. She didn’t want to make feeding you so sporadically a habit. But yesterday, when she came up with a food tray, she thought about your rudeness and how cruel you had been to her. It made her stomach twist into angry knots. She decided that not feeding you for a day would be a lesson.

“I’m so happy our first fight is over. I hate to be angry with you, Catherine.” Heather’s sweet tone wasn’t lost on you as she touched your arm gently. Your chewing slowed for a second before you swallowed, your eyes glued to her hand on your arm.

“I picked out every gift just for you,” She sighed softly as she traced soft circles against your skin. You fought back the urge to pull your arm away. “You’re a hopeless romantic, you know? You remember in college when you and Adeline dressed up as Lizzie and Jane Bennet. No one got it but god,” She sighed, her eyes finding yours as you stayed frozen.

The hand on your arm slowly reached for the paper plate on your lap. Your fingers twitched a little as you fought back the urge to grab the food as she placed the plate on the nightstand beside your bed. Everything was happening so fast and yet incredibly slow at the same time.

Then she stood up and crawled onto the bed, swinging one leg over your lap before stranding you with a white smile. Her hands came to cup your face and tilt it up. A soft sigh fell from her lips. “You’ve always been brilliant,”

You shook your head in her hands lightly. The warmth of the morphine was slow to leave your body, but as your body filled with an intense feeling of dread, you could feel everything. Your ankle throbbed sharply, and you were starting to feel like you were about to be sick again. “I’m not,”

Heather threw her head back and laughed as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. When she lowered her head to meet your gaze again, she leaned closer, one of her thumbs reaching up to trace your bottom lip. You cringed a little at the feeling, a sight that she ignored. “You’ve always been so humble, too. How did I get so lucky?” She whispered as she leaned in to kiss your lips softly.

You felt your lips tighten and bile rise to your throat, and you swallowed it. You let her kiss you once, then twice, then a third time. Your lips stayed closed in a tight line as you tried to imagine yourself in a different position, but with every touch Heather placed on you, the more you stayed cemented in your reality.

Heather pulled back with a look in her eyes that you could recognize as crazed lust. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to know what her hands felt like anymore. You bit your lip to silence a whimper. Her hands pulled roughly at your shirt as she grabbed the hem of it and pulled it over your head with a simple yank.

You shook your head quickly now, “No, Heather, I-I’m not ready. I don’t-”

She shushed you softly with a gentle smile as she traced the swell of your breast slowly, the touch eliciting your tears to pool over your waterline. “I know you’re worried, but I’m going to take care of you, I promise.” Her eyes lingered on the prominent bruise on the center of your chest. She frowned, leaning down carefully to kiss the blue and black patch of skin.

“No,” You cried softly, your voice soft before you decided that you couldn’t take it anymore. “No!” You yelled, causing her back to straighten and sit up.

“I’m sorry?” She asked with a soft scoff.

“I-I can’t do it, I’m not ready. I don’t want to, Heather. Please don’t make me.” You begged softly as tears rolled down your face. “I’ll try next time, I promise. I just, please, please don’t make me.”

Heather frowned a little before she let out a harsh laugh, her arms folding over her chest tightly. She looked down at you, “You know I saw your precious little Adeline today,”

You felt your back tense at Adeline's mention, “What? I thought you worked in pediatrics, not pediatric oncology. W-why did you see Adeline?”

Heather reached out a hand to press on your bruise roughly, the feeling making you wince. “I work in pediatric oncology. Sometimes, I help Nicole. I loved it when you visited her at the hospital. It was almost too easy to steal the copy of your apartment key from Adeline. She doesn’t love you as much as I love you, you know that, right?”

You shook your head, and you cried harder as you realized that you had never even noticed her at the hospital. Your focus has always been so zoned in on Nicole or Adeline that you didn’t even register Heather’s presence. Would Adeline remember Heather? You doubted it.

“She talked to some agents or something and was inconsolable. Fucking useless friend of yours. Anyway, I ran into them in the hallway. Scrawny kid with some buff guy, I’m sure Adeline called them.”

You found your hands grabbing her hand on your chest and shook your head side-to-side. “No, Adeline doesn’t know. I didn’t tell her anything. I didn’t, I promise.”

Heather’s eyes met yours briefly before they trailed down to your bare chest and your hands holding onto her wrist. “Say you love me more than her then,”

“I-I, what?”

“Say it.”

You opened your mouth, but all that came out were gentle sobs as you tried to form the words, terrified that she was about to do something to Adeline. The thought of Heather hurting Adeline had you gasping softly for air.

Her eyes were on yours again as you panted softly, “You don’t love me?” Her spit hit your cheek as she hissed the words in rageful disbelief. She was off your lap in seconds as she moved to the dresser and quickly pulled out a small pairing knife.

“Wait,” You cried softly as you tried to hurry away from her, making a vain attempt to get up from the bed that was meant with a howl of pain from your ankle and your body slumping over the edge lamely.

Her hands grabbed your ankles, good and injured, and pulled you roughly to the edge of the bed. A scream left your throat at the contact. “You think I’m going to let them find you?” She questioned in a suspiciously calm voice as she grazed the smooth side of the knife against your collarbone.

You stayed frozen as she leaned in closer, her lips at the shell of your ear, “If they ever found you, Emma. I would kill you and then myself. I’ve already decided. We have to be together,” Her voice in your ear had you breathing harder as she slowly pressed the tip of the knife into the area above your heart.

The knife only stung at first before it felt like a ripping pain. Heather dragged the knife into your skin with a deliberate sense of control. Not too deep, not too superficial. Something she wouldn’t have to stitch up. She made a diagonal line before staring a few inches apart from the other cut. “We belong together, Jane.”

You cried out again as she started dragging the knife into your skin once more, “Please,”

“You just need to open your heart. If they ever found us, I need to mark where to shoot. Stay still.”

As Heather got close to completing the ‘X’ mark on your chest, marking you as a possible target. You felt your body thrash under her weakly. The edge of one of the lines skewed to the left, and Heather let out an annoyed groan before she pulled the knife away from your chest and to your lips. “Stop fucking crying,” She growled as she slashed at your bottom lip.

You hissed at the feeling as blood coated your chest and filled your mouth. You stared up at her as soft sobs kept leaving your mouth, “Fuck you.” You muttered before gathering as much spit as you could in your mouth and shooting it directly at her.

You laughed as it made contact with her cheek, and she wiped the bloody spit away with the back of her hand. She laughed harshly as she nodded a little, “Okay, so you want to be a brat.” She laughed.

She was sliding off the bed now, leaving you lying on your back, her chest rising and falling quickly as she gripped the pairing knife in her hand tighter. “Enjoy the rest of your meal. It’ll be your last one, Emma.” She snapped at you before stomping to the door and flying it open.

Once she was gone, you stayed there, staring up at the ceiling wordlessly. You licked at the cut on your lip gently as blood flowed freely into your mouth. You swallowed the copper-tasting liquid as you let the consequences sink in. She was going to kill you if they found you, and you had already called for a team of highly trained professionals to come to find you.

You almost laughed at the irony. You didn’t want them to find you. You did want them to find you. It was almost hilarious. You tried to smile with your cut lip but found the action too painful to manage.

You didn’t want to die at twenty-eight. You wanted to see your mom again, Adeline, Nicole, hell, you wanted to go to work one more time. You rolled onto your stomach and cringed the way the fluffy comforter grazed the bleeding “X” on your chest. You reached for the morphine drip and rolled it closer as you slowly turned a knob and upped the intake. Your shaking hands then moved to the sandwich on the nightstand with a sigh.

She could kill you when they found you, but if she thought you weren’t going to try and manipulate the situation, she was dead wrong. You weakly bit into the sandwich while trying to think of a plan.

You refused to die without leaving a mark.

TAG LIST: @babyspiderling @cocobean16 @kodzukenie333 @mmmunson

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c-m-stuff · 1 year ago

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Safe Again

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

-Description: You and Spencer are married. You two have a beautiful son, but suddenly he is involved in a school shooting.

-Warnings: Angst, having a child, school shooting (no one gets hurt, except the shooter)

-Word count: 1318

-Note: (Repost from Wattpad!) It's horrible this happens often, and I'm so sorry for the ones who have experienced this. I hope, everyone is okay and safe. Also, let's say this is around season 7 referring to the kids age. Much love <3

Masterlist

Y/N POV:

'Admit it, pretty girl. I won the game.' Derek stated, while we all were sitting in the conference room.

'Yeah, only because you cheated!' I said back, with a chuckle on my face.

'No, I didn't!'

'Yes, you did.' my husband confirmed, while the others nodded.

Just as Derek wanted to argue back, Aaron came in with a rush. We all got quiet, looking at his concerned state. It made us also worried.

'We need to leave, now.' he spoke in a serious voice, meaning it.

'Hotch, what's wrong?' Emily asked, as we all looked up at him, confused.

'There is a school shooting.' he started, as we all got up immediately, but he stopped us.

'In the school of our kids.' he finished, all our eyes wide, full of fear and concern.

Our son, Henry and Jack, went all to the same school. However, they weren't the same age. Jack is a little bit older, while Henry and (Y/S/N) are almost the same age. But, they were best friends, which is great.

We took as quick as we could our stuff, running towards the black SUV's. I sat next to Spencer, holding his hand tightly. I looked him in the eyes, with concern and fear. Spencer looked at me the same way.

_________________________

Finally, we all made it into the school, already wearing our bulletproof vests. Just as we stepped out of the SUV's, we heard the loud sound of shooting. My heart went faster and faster, worse scenarios taking my thoughts over. A single tear, escaping my eye.

'HOTCH!' suddenly Derek yelled, as just on time, he shot.

The unsub, collapsed on the ground, while crying it our from the pain. He tried to shoot at us, the first thing when we arrived, but luckily Derek didn't let him. Derek ran over to him, making sure his weapon was out of sight, and cuffing the shooter.

There was standing an officer, who probably made the call, waiting for us. We all walked, with high speed, towards him.

'Is there another shooter?' Aaron tried to ask him as normal as possible, but we could hear his shaking voice.

'That was the only one. We all heard shots a few times, but I don't know if anyone got hit.'

'Alright, Reid, Prentiss, Morgan and I, are bringing the kids in safety downstairs. JJ, Rossi and (Y/L/N), you do that upstairs.' Aaron ordered, as we all nodded, before entering.

Just like he had said, me, JJ and David, went upstairs. We first called all the children with us, saying they were safe, and that they needed to go outside. As we had all the kids, and the classrooms were empty, David offered to bring them, together with the teachers, outside. JJ and I, thanked him, and went to look for our own children, as they weren't with the rest of the kids.

We both went different directions, calling out their names, looking in every classroom. My heard raced as crazy, as I tried not to breakdown, from fear and concern.

I went inside a classroom, seeing nobody.

'(Y/S/N), Henry, Jack!' I called out, as suddenly I heard footsteps running towards me.

'Mommy! Auntie (Y/N)! Aunt (Y/N)!' the three familiar voices, making me sign out a breath of relief.

To be clear, I wasn't technically their aunt, which I don't mind. But, I've spent a lot of time with them, and they started to call me also "auntie (Y/N)" or "aunt (Y/N)", making me really happy.

I squatted down, while spreading my arms open, as the three boys ran into my arms. I hugged them tight, and pressed a kiss on each of their heads.

'Omg, there you are. We all were so worried. Are you guys okay? Are you in any pain?' I asked them, slightly releasing them from the hug.

'We don't have pain, mommy.' my son said, as they nodded their heads in agreement.

Their eyes were still filled with fear, and I could see, that they have cried.

'Everything is okay now. We have the bad guy, he can't come anymore. You are all safe.' I assured them, as they calmed down.

'Let's find your mommy, Henry, and you daddy, Jack. They are really worried about you.'

'Do you want to hold my hands?' I asked them, as they immediately took them.

I stood up, (Y/S/N) holding my left hand, while Henry was holding my right. Jack, holding Henry's hand.

I walked out of the classroom, as I just saw JJ across the hallway, leaving a classroom, only to quickly go to another. She was with her back towards us, causing me to call her.

'JJ!' she turned around, as a weight fell off her shoulders.

'MOMMY!' Henry yelled, as he let go of my hand, running in the arms of the blonde.

'Henry, I was so worried. Are you alright? Oh, come here.' she lifted him up, hugging him.

She thanked me, with appreciation on her face. I smiled, happy the two had reunited. In the meanwhile, I was holding Jack's hand with my right, as we walked closer to them.

'DADDY!' Jack yelled, as he also let go of my hand, running towards his father, who just took the stairs.

Aaron immediately lifted him up, hugging him also closely.

'There you are. Is everything okey? You're safe now, buddy.' he reassured his son, also whispering a "thank you", as I replied with a smile.

'Hotch, have you seen Spence?'

'Yeah, he's looking worriedly downstairs.'

'Thanks.'

I squatted down again, meeting our beautiful son.

'Let's go find daddy.' I said to him, as I lifted him up. I pressed a kiss on his head, still so relieved he is okay. Relieved that everyone is okay.

I went downstairs with him, as I saw, Derek, David and Emily, just leaving a classroom, still looking for the missing kids.

'Oh, you have him.' Emily breathed out a sigh of relief, they all did.

'Yeah, Henry and Jack are also fine.' I answered, as they relaxed more.

'That's good. No one got hurt, by the way.' Emily spoke out, putting a smile on my face.

'That's great. Do you guys know where Spencer is?'

'He's looking here somewhere.' Derek answered, as I thanked them, before leaving to find Spencer.

'Sweetheart, do you want to call your daddy, please?' I asked our son, as he nodded.

'DADDY!' he yelled, as Spencer rushed out of a classroom. Once he saw us, he ran towards us.

'Gosh, are you both okay? Are you hurt, buddy?' he said, worriedly, as I handed our son to him.

(Y/S/N), shook his head, while his dad hugged him tight.

'I found him with Henry and Jack, they're all fine. No one got hurt.' I assured him, as I planted a kiss on his cheek. He did the same with me, before my phone began to rang.

Seeing who was calling, I answered my phone, and putted it on speaker.

'Finally, someone picks up. Please, please, tell me the children are alright.' I heard Penelope, concern raising her voice.

'Everyone is fine, Penny. No one got hurt, and we found (Y/S/N), Henry and Jack.'

'Thank goodness, you all need to bring the kids to here, I need to cuddle them.' she joked, but deep down, she meant it.

'Will do, Penny.' and, with that, everyone went back to the BAU, with the kids.

_________________________

#criminal minds #cm #spencer reid #fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x fem!reader #having children #angst imagine

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immortalarizona · 9 months ago

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Died With a Hammer in His Hand: Unpacking the Myth of John Henry

“John Henry said to his captain: ‘You are nothing but a common man, Before that steam drill shall beat me down, I’ll die with my hammer in my hand.’” — “John Henry, the Steel Driving Man,” recounted by W. T. Blankenship

John Henry is one of America’s most well-known mythic heroes, immortalized in song, statue, postage stamp, and multiple movies (including a 2000 Disney animated short film which I vividly remember watching in elementary school). But if you’re unfamiliar with the legend, here’s a brief summary.

John Henry was a freed slave who found himself working for a railroad company in the years following the Civil War as a steel driver. His job was to drive a steel spike into rock so that dynamite could be placed in the resulting hole, thus opening up a tunnel through the Appalachians.

John Henry was the best on his crew, and he took pride in his work—so when a white salesman brought in a steam-powered drill, claiming that it could drill better than any man, he decided to challenge that claim. Henry entered into a contest with the machine to see who could carve out the deepest hole in the mountain in a single day.

His victory cost him his life.

Henry’s wife—sometimes named Polly Ann, sometimes named Lucy, sometimes not named at all—went to visit him on his deathbed that evening. In many versions of the ballad, Henry’s last words are a request for a glass of water. In other versions, he asks his wife to be true to him when he’s dead, or to do her best to raise their son. Many accounts say that he’s buried by a railroad, where “Every locomotive come roarin’ by, / Says there lays that steel drivin’ man” (lyrics from Onah L. Spencer).

Bronze statue of John Henry near Talcott, West Virginia, sculpted by Charles Cooper.

The general consensus among historians now seems to be that the ballad of John Henry is one such legend that has its roots in historical fact, although the particulars are long obscured by the centuries that have since passed. Henry was born into slavery in the 1840s or 50s, either in North Carolina or Virginia (some accounts of the ballad lend credence to the latter claim). As for how John Henry found himself working for the Chesapeake & Ohio Railway company, University of Georgia history professor Scott Reynolds Nelson posits in his book Steel Drivin’ Man that the man was sentenced to ten years in a Virginia prison for theft at only nineteen years of age, and that he was among many prisoners leased out by the state for labor.

Did you know that the 13th Amendment makes an exception for slavery which is used “as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted”? (This practice continues to this day, and has become an industry worth tens of billions of dollars. Louisiana State Penitentiary, also known as Angola or simply “The Farm,” is a good place to begin if you’re wanting to look into chain gangs further.) John Henry the legend was a free worker who took on the backbreaking, often dangerous work of railroad labor under his own power and could demand any wage for his work, but John Henry the man may have lived and died in neoslavery.

Speaking of Henry’s death, most retellings of the myth say that he died of sheer exhaustion. Some add in the detail that it was his heart that gave out because he worked himself too hard. However, alternate theories have been proposed for how the man died. Some historians say it was a stroke that killed him, while others posit silicosis.

It’s this latter hypothesis which I find most intriguing. For those who aren’t familiar with it, the American Lung Association describes silicosis as “a lung disease caused by breathing in tiny bits of silica, a common mineral found in sand, quartz and many other types of rock.” It’s been an occupational hazard for construction workers since, well, the time of John Henry. What I find interesting are the implications for the narrative if the real Henry died of silicosis. In the folk ballad, Henry causes his own death by working himself too hard. On the other hand, the ones at fault if the man died of silicosis would be his employers—the ones responsible for the dangerous conditions he worked in.

So why would John Henry’s cause of death change during the transition from fact to legend?

The answer, as with many other fictionalized accounts of historical events, is that it simply makes for a more effective story. But not just that—a more effective message. So what might the ballad be trying to tell those who listen to it?

First, let’s think about who this song was sung by and for. The ballad of John Henry is a work song, its rhythm meant to help railroad workers stay and strike in sync, in the same way a drumbeat helps soldiers march in step. It’s been sung by railroad workers, miners, construction workers, chain gangs, and country musicians. At its core, then, the ballad is a song of and for the American working class—specifically those people doing the same sort of backbreaking physical labor as John Henry himself. Many of these laborers would have been Black, and likely former slaves—especially when it came to Southern chain gangs. (See my above note about how American slavery was only mostly abolished, and then think about why the U.S. has one of the highest incarceration rates in the world. . . but I digress.)

An oil painting of John Henry by Frederick Brown.

We’ve established that John Henry is a hero for working-class Americans during the time of the Second Industrial Revolution. But what sort of hero is he? Is he like Achilles, a paragon of his country’s values and an example for the audience to aspire to? Or is he an Icarus, a cautionary tale sung so the audience won’t repeat his mistakes?

The answer depends on who’s telling the story.

Onah L. Spencer is the source for one version which emerged from a Black community in Cincinnati, Ohio. When he recounted the lyrics to Guy B. Johnson for the latter’s 1929 book John Henry: Tracking Down a Negro Legend, he also stated that the song was used to motivate workers: “. . . if there was a slacker in a gang of workers it would stimulate him with its heroic masculine appeal.”

In cases such as Spencer’s crew, then, John Henry’s death is presented as glorious, and Henry is seen as admirable for working so hard that it kills him. Here, he’s a good example. Taken to the extreme, the Achillean Henry encourages fellow workers to follow in his footsteps—to keep pushing themselves harder and harder until they finally keel over.

This message doesn’t benefit the workers passing it along; it benefits the employers profiting from their labor. This, I think, is where the story blurs the line between myth and propaganda. And while the ballad of John Henry certainly isn’t singlehandedly responsible for the American tendency to overwork ourselves, it does reflect our attitudes about work in a way that’s worth unpacking. To me, this reeks of the Puritan work ethic. The belief was that you had to be working as often as you could; if you didn’t, the devil would be able to influence you. The Puritans were one of America’s foundational cultural influences—of course those values would have influenced the ballad of John Henry.

Henry is a hero because he worked himself to death. If we see him as a good example, what does this say about the effects that capitalism has had on American attitudes? About the internalized belief that our worth as humans only comes from what we can contribute to the economy? Why do we see death from exhaustion as a fitting end for a former slave?

Then again, maybe we’re not supposed to.

A lithograph of John Henry, from the series American Folk Heroes, by William Gropper.

Remember how I noted earlier that many of the laborers who first sang Henry’s ballad would themselves have been former slaves? It’s important because there’s a long history of American slaves using work songs as a tool of resistance against their oppressors, and these Black laborers—these “freed” slaves—would have carried that tradition with them into the Second Industrial Revolution.

The ballad of John Henry, then, might have been sung with the intent of helping other workers survive the brutal conditions on the railroads. Here, Henry becomes an Icarus—a warning of what happens if you push yourself too hard. One version of the ballad recorded by Edward Douglas of the Ohio State Penitentiary contains lyrics which suggest that not every Henry was meant to be emulated.

“John Henry started on the right-hand side, And the steam drill started on the left. He said, ‘Before I’d let that steam drill beat me down, I’d hammer my fool self to death, Oh, I’d hammer my fool self to death.’”

Don’t do what John Henry did, this version warns the audience. Be wiser than he was. Don’t push yourself quite so hard. Think of the people you’d be leaving behind if you’re not careful.

Perhaps even the creation of this mythos was an act of defiance in and of itself. At this point, I think it bears mentioning that I myself am not Black and can only hypothesize based on what I’ve heard from people who are, but I see something radical in the act of raising up one of your own as your hero rather than venerating the people you’ve been told are superior to you.

Remember, John Henry’s contest was versus a white man’s machine. It costs him everything, but he triumphs over the expectations of that steam drill salesman and proves his worth as a laborer and a person. John Cephas, a blues musician from Virginia who was interviewed by NPR for a report on John Henry back in 2002, had this to say of the myth:

“It was a story that was close to being true. It’s like the underdog overcoming this powerful force. I mean even into today when you hear it (it) makes you take pride. I know especially for black people, and for people from other ethnic groups, that a lot of people are for the underdog.”

Americans love underdog stories. Our own national origin myth is one! John Henry’s assertation of power and skill, the ballad’s declaration that Black people have the right to be proud of themselves too. . . no wonder this myth has resonated with so many people. No wonder it’s survived for a century and a half.

In this light, then, John Henry once again becomes a hero for us, the audience, to emulate. In the fight against oppression, endurance like Henry’s becomes key. Justice is almost never won quickly. The odds stacked against us may seem impossible, but it’s worth trying anyways, even if we have to fight to our dying breaths.

Artwork of John Henry as a defense worker by James Daugherty.

John Henry has meant and been many things to a lot of people in the past two centuries. A representative of capitalist exploitation, a cautionary tale for workers, an inspiration to oppressed people in America, even a communist icon—but I’d like to take a moment to talk about what his story means to me. It’s not something I’ve seen discussed in my research, and I think it’s worth exploring.

John Henry reflects fears of workers during the Second Industrial Revolution who saw how technology was evolving—how machines were being created that could do their jobs not just faster, but cheaper, because you don’t have to pay a machine like you would a person. They feared that they would be replaced, and that they would be left destitute while their former bosses grew richer and richer. And despite the centuries between us, this is a fear that I can understand.

Often, I feel it myself.

As an artist existing in online spaces during this new influx of AI-generated “art” and writing, I have witnessed many fears that we will be replaced by AI. Yes, there is a certain human quality to art that a generative learning model cannot replicate, but who’s to say that the much-vaunted free market will care? We can hope that art as a profession will survive, but we just don’t know.

In John Henry’s struggle, I see my own. In the steam drill salesman, I see tech bros on the platform formerly known as Twitter showing off their latest batch of beautiful, hollow, AI-generated “art.” I see John Henry’s passion, his pride, his triumph.

And I see hope.

By his life and death, the mythic John Henry reassures me that human beings aren’t so easy to replace after all. He tells me that machines can be defeated. That one day, my vindication as an artist and writer will come, and the world will see our worth.

The ballad of John Henry has endured like a mountain for a hundred and fifty years, and I hope it will survive for hundreds more—that John Henry’s hammer will continue to ring true throughout the ages. But in the midst of American mythos, it’s important not to lose sight of the historical facts behind it. Legends are interesting and inspirational and wonderful, but the real stories have something to tell us, too.

Don’t forget to listen.

Works Cited

American Lung Association - Silicosis

Ballad of America - This Old Hammer: About the Song

Constitution of the United States - Thirteenth Amendment

Encyclopedia Britannica - John Henry

Flypaper by Soundfly - The Lasting Legacy of the Slave Trade on American Music

Folk Renaissance - John Henry: Hero of American Folklore

How Stuff Works - Was There a Real John Henry?

ibiblio.org - John Henry: The Project

National Park Service - The Superpower of Singing: Music and the Struggle Against Slavery

NPR - Present at the Creation: John Henry

NPR - Talk of the Nation: The Untold History of Post-Civil War ‘Neoslavery’

PBS - Mercy Street Revealed Blog - Singing in Slavery: Songs of Survival, Songs of Freedom

Prof. Scott Reynolds Nelson - Steel Drivin’ Man: John Henry, the Untold Story of an American Legend

World Population Review - Incarceration Rates by Country 2024

#john henry #american mythology #analysis #essay #black history month #ari speaks #hi I wrote this for my english class and I felt compelled to share it here

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babymetaldoll · 2 years ago

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Baby, I'm yours - Chapter four: "One love, one house (no shirt, no blouse)"

Summary: Reader and Spencer visit his mother and talk about their relationship. The team is not ready to go back to work after Prentiss' death, but they'll have to do it anyway.

Word count: 8,4K

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff and Spencer overthinking everything.

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you for your feedback! I'm glad you are enjoying this sequel, 'cos I'm already planning the third and final part of this trilogy.

Series Masterlist | General Masterlist | Prequel’s Masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter

(Y/N)'s point of view

I always loved visiting Diana. Not just 'cos Spencer got incredibly happy to see his mom, but because I enjoyed our time with her. She was an XV-century literature teacher, of course, it was incredibly interesting talking with her. We could ramble about books for hours. But I always let them alone for a while, so they could have their private conversations. That was my plan that day after we landed and got settled in the hotel. Spencer had confirmed the visit with his mom and the facility, so they were expecting us after lunch.

- "Do you think she is gonna be happy when we tell her?"- I held Spencer's hand as we stepped inside the main hall of the asylum and walked straight to reception.

- "Of course, she will, why?"

- "'Cos, well, she loves you so much. I don't want her to think I am stealing her son."

Honestly, I don't know where that insecurity came from, but my comment was an honest reflection of my fear. Spencer smiled and wrapped his arms around my waist as we walked.

- "Don't think that. She already loves you like a daughter, she is gonna be thrilled with the news."

Spencer smiled and, for a moment, I was hypnotized by his big chocolate eyes, staring at me as if I were a princess or a goddess. Spencer would always look at me like that whenever he felt honestly and utterly happy Until a nurse greeted us and we turned to stare at her, blushing.

- "Doctor Reid, Miss (Y/L/N), Diana has been expecting you."- she announced and Spencer held my hand tight. I don't know if he was afraid I might run the other way or if he needed reassurance that I was, in fact, standing next to him. Whatever the reason was, I squeezed his hand and smiled when he turned to look at me.

We walked to the backyard, apparently, Diana was outside enjoying the afternoon sun. I imagined how those visits would be in a few years. If Spencer and I ever got married and had children, they would run and hug their nana the second we entered the facility. And Spencer would follow them to make sure they didn't get into trouble. That was a scene that warmed my heart and gave me butterflies in my stomach. I wondered if Spencer pictured a future with me as well.

- "Spencer! (Y/N)!"- Diana saw us and raised her arms from her chair. Her son quickly leaned and hugged her as I waited my turn to say hello.

- "Hi mom. Sorry we are late, the flight was delayed"

- "I've told you, those apparatus are a coffin with wings"- she argued immediately and I chuckled, thinking about the first time I met her and how scared she was of flying.

- "(Y/N)! What a delight!"

- "Hey Diana! I'm so glad we finally made it. I'm sorry it took us so long to visit, things have been... busy."

Spencer and I had agreed not to tell her mother about Prentiss. It was an unnecessary pain we didn't want to put her through, she would get worried knowing Spencer was sad, and for once, we wanted to focus on the good part of life.

- "We got you this"- Spencer opened his satchel and gave her mother the Henry Bradshaw book we found in an old bookstore that he remembered her mother reading for him when he was a kid. Diana's eyes lit up when she opened it and started reading it right away.

Her health was much better than the first time I saw her. In the last few trips, we have seen her more joyful, even independent. Apparently, the doctor had found the pills that worked, and even Diana was glad of the result.

- "So mom, (Y/N) and I have some news to share with you"-Spencer smiled and held my hand- "(Y/N) and I started dating"

- "Yes darling, I know. You've been dating for years, that's not breaking news. If you are here to tell me you set a date, that would be news"- Diana didn't even take her eyes from the book to dismiss Spencer's announcement. It broke my heart in a way. I thought she would be happy to know I was dating her son.

- "No, mom. We were friends until a few weeks ago. We weren't dating before"

- "Come on! I know you think I'm crazy, but how can you expect me to believe that? You two have been in love since the first time I met her at your work! Are you seriously telling me you just started dating? Please, Spencer!"

- "Actually Diane, that's exactly what happened. We were in love the entire time, but neither of us said anything for all these years."- I whispered, embarrassed, and cut her a smile- "I was too scared I'd ruin our friendship if I confessed my feelings, 'cos I was sure he didn't feel the same and apparently, that's how Spencer felt as well"

Mrs. Reid looked at us from her book, raising an eyebrow. I swear I could feel her judging me for my choices, and at the same time trying to read if I was lying. Profiling a profiler, that's never a good idea.

- "Are you trying to tell me the government hired two dimwits like you and let them protect the country?"- Spencer's face went pale, not knowing how to answer that. He still held my hand and turned to look at me, completely out of words.

- "In fact... yes?"- I smiled innocently and prayed for a good reaction.

- "Oh god, kids. All these years wasted? I am ready to be a grandmother already!"- Diana chuckled and shook her head- "But, at least it happened and I am glad you are finally together. I've always considered you family, (Y/N). And I know you have taken care of my son all these years."

- "Thank you, Diana. He has taken care of me as well"- I felt Spencer caressing my hand as I spoke and turned to him smiling for a second.- "Now, what do you say I leave you two for a while and I pick you up for dinner at six?"- I said as I stood up.- "I am sorry but I really need a nap and a hot shower after that flight."

Diana stood up suddenly, and awkwardly, but sweetly wrapped her arms around me. It took me by surprise, but I welcomed her and even felt her kiss my cheek.

- "Thank you for loving my boy"

- "No, thank you for raising him to be my perfect match"- she chuckled and wiped off some tears from her eyes.

- "Now please get married and give me lots of grandchildren"

Spencer's point of view

After I walked (Y/N) back to the car, I joined my mother for a chess game in her room. She caught me up with all her medical stories in the facility, and how great she had been feeling in the last few months. I told her all about how (Y/N) and I ended up dating, the horrible weeks I spent thinking she was dating James, and how even our unit chief was trying to hook us up. She laughed and continued telling me she couldn't believe (Y/N) and I had been just friends for so long, considering even she knew we were in love ever since day one.

- "What can I tell you, mom? Your son is kinda blind when it comes to women"

- "Well, now you know your mother is not blind. I noticed she loved you since the first time you introduced us. She has always looked at you like you are the only person in the whole world."- I blushed and looked down at my hands for a moment.

- "Thank you for your support. (Y/N) was very worried you wouldn't approve."

- "Why wouldn't I? She is amazing, smart, funny and she loves you. What else can I ask for?"- I shrugged and mom stood up.

- "I've always imagined when this time would come"- she said as she went through a drawer, taking out a small jewelry box- "I remember my grandma wearing this ring. She always looked so elegant and refined. She gave it to me before she passed and I never found a moment in my life to wear it. Please, I want (Y/N) to have it."

I widened my eyes as I stared at my mom handing me a three-stone diamond ring I never knew she had. She was right, she never wore it, I would have remembered a ring that big.

- "Mom... it's beautiful. (Y/N) is gonna... I don't think I've ever seen her wearing a ring like this before."

- "I'm sure she'll love it. You have to tell me everything about the moment you give her this ring."- I frowned and held the jewel between my fingers. I had never had a diamond in my hand before.

- "You are not going to give it to her yourself? Mom, if it was your grandma's, she would love to hear the entire story."

- "Spencer, it's an engagement ring!"- mom looked at me as if I couldn't comprehend the words she was saying. Which was, in fact, true. I didn't. I couldn't even speak after she delivered that line. Mom was giving me an engagement ring to give to (Y/N). That was fast. Way too fast, scary, and completely out of place. (Y/N) would never accept a marriage proposal after three weeks of dating. It was insane.

- "I can hear the interlock of your brain overthinking, Spencer"- mom smiled and sat again. She moved her rook on the board. I couldn't focus on the game, of course, not after the bomb mom had just dropped.

- "What makes you think she is gonna say yes?"- I whispered after a few minutes of deep silence.

- "A mother knows. We are animals, we feel things. Besides, she is a smart woman. She loves you, and you have been together for some years now. I know you say you weren't a couple before, but you have been best friends, and that is also very important in a relationship."

I opened my mouth to argue with her words, but nothing came from my lips. I was mesmerized, staring at the ring, and trying to picture (Y/N) wearing it. I was making my best to imagine the moment I gave her a ring like that, it had to be special, magical. Worthy of her. How could I propose? I never imagined that part before.

Yes, I had fantasized about a future with her, but never with the "Would you marry me?" moment. Never. Somehow it felt awkward to even think about it at the minute.

- "Spencer? Are you listening?"- mom waved her hand in front of my eyes and took me from my thoughts.

- "Sorry, I just..."

- "You were lost in your fears"

- "Not just fears. I just never imagined this moment before. I can picture a future with her, it's what I want the most. But I never thought I would have the chance to take this step."

- "My boy."- I felt her hand on my cheek as she smiled, staring into my eyes for a moment, the same way she did when I was a kid and woke up scared after a nightmare- "You don't have to imagine or know everything before you live it. Life has to surprise you from time to time, and you have to let your imagination go wild! Be a romantic!"

- "I am a romantic!"- I argued and mom chuckled.

- "Of course you are, Ace. So use all that emotion and intuition from your romantic side and forget for a moment about your rational fears. Do you wanna marry (Y/N)?"

- "Yes."

- "And do you wanna wait?"

- "No!"- mom smiled as her hand tapped on my cheek.

- "See? Just stop overanalyzing everything and be happy!"- I chuckled at mom's words and held her hand for a moment.

- "Thank you, mom. Really"

- "Come here and hug your mother, I just saved you a fortune with the ring!"- she laughed at her own words as I stood up and wrapped my arms around her. Having her there at that moment, and knowing she hadn't been as healthy as she was that day was priceless for me.

And so Frank's premonition was right. I was gonna propose to (Y/N). When? How? I still had no idea.

(Y/N)'s point of view

- "Do we have to do this?"- I whined as we parked outside the FBI Training Academy in Quantico. We were there because Seaver had invited us all to her graduation. She was officially an agent, and I knew Hotch had offered her a job with us. I wasn't thrilled with the idea, ergo I didn't want to be there. But Spencer held my hand, and the present we had gotten Ashley and walked me inside the main building.

- "Yes, we do. Ashley is going to be an official team member and you should- start getting along with her."

- "But I don't like her."

- "I know that, everybody knows that. But it's the right thing to do and you know it as well."- I sighed and pouted, but Spencer didn't stop walking. As soon as we entered the central hall, Penelope waved at us. She was with Morgan and Hotch. It was the first time we had seen them since that day at Rossi's after the funeral. And it was weird.

It felt as if Prentiss was going to show up any minute, excusing herself for being late, holding a cup of coffee, and telling a crazy story about how she went salsa dancing the night before and completely forgot about this event.

- "Hey lovebirds! How was your trip?"- Garcia smiled and hugged us - "Did you have fun in Las Vegas, munchkin?"

- "Yeah, it was a great trip!"- I answered and enjoyed my friend's hug.

- "What did Mrs. Reid say when you gave her the news?"- Morgan asked.

- "She didn't believe us 'cos she always thought we were already dating"- my boyfriend whispered and played with my hand between his, as our teammates stared at us, chuckling.

- "It's gonna start!"- Rossi showed up all of a sudden and clapped, clearly more excited than any of us. - "I saved you all good seats."

- "And you were the one who said we spend way too much time together"- I joked and Rossi smiled.

- "Right now it feels like it's not enough, ragazza."

And that hurt. 'Cos papa pasta was right, after what happened to Prentiss, every moment we spent together felt special. Or at least I wanted to make it special. I didn't want to waste time, I wanted to live my life and enjoy the little things. Those people sitting next to me were my family.

The next Monday we were back on duty. I wasn't ready at all, but after a long talk with Spencer, we agreed working might help us keep our minds busy from being depressed. Also, I knew our work helped us save lives, and that always made me feel better.

But I wasn't ready to walk back into the BAU and find Prentiss' picture hanging on the wall, with all the other fallen agents. That was a low blow. Spencer walked straight back to the bullpen, but I noticed Penelope staring at the wall, so I walked over to say hello. That's when I saw it, Emily's face staring back at me.

- "This is not right"- I whispered and Garcia simply sighed- "She was way more pretty in person."

- "She was the most gorgeous woman on earth"- Penelope answered with a sad huckle- "I miss her so much."

- "Me too."

- "I took Sergio in, that baby needed a new home."

- "Emily's cat? How are you doing with him?"

- "He is a sweetheart, he loves cuddles and so far, he hates Kevin."- I smiled and rested my head on Penelope's shoulder for a bit, as we continued staring at Emily's picture.

- "Girls, you gotta stop staring at her. Prentiss wouldn't want us to sulk. You know that."- Morgan's voice nearly made us jump.

- "I'm not sulking."- Garcia argued and I rubbed my hand on her back, cutting Morgan a short smile.

- "I'm gonna put an eye on Spencer"- I excused myself and walked away slowly. If I was affected by staring at Emily's picture, I didn't want to know how my boyfriend was dealing with her empty desk.

Honestly, it was more painful than I thought. Walking in, knowing I would never see my friend again, sitting with coffee, and a juicy story of her weekend, sometimes maybe still a little hungover.

Pen had baked some cupcakes to share with Ashley, and celebrate her graduation. We ate them and drank some coffee in the meeting room before our daily briefing. It was definitely awkward, but we all did our best not to mention Prentiss, the pink elephant in the room, and just focused on talking about what we did on our week off. Morgan spent his time remodeling a new house, Pen and Sergio got to know each other and she completely "catificated" her apartment with some of her boyfriend's help.

- "Congratulations, agent Seaver."- Hotch walked in suddenly, followed by Rossi. Spencers held my arm and guided me to a chair. I turned to him and cut him a short smile as I sat down by his side.

- "Thank you."

- "Who made the cupcakes?"- David asked as he grabbed one and took a bite of it.

- "I did."- Pen answered with a proud smile.

- "Thank you all for coming to my graduation. It meant a lot."- Seaver cut me a short smile and I nodded. Yes, that was me trying to be nice.

- "Let's get started."- Hotch indicated as the rest of the team sat down and we all stopped eating to grab our case files.

- "Ok, we're going to Portland, Oregon, and it's not for a dead moon concert."- Penelope started presenting our current case- "So, Jay Johnson, a DJ, was cutting through an alley on his way home after leaving a club when he was bludgeoned by a pipe and then stabbed 31 times. His watch, his cell, and his computer were stolen. That was 2 days ago. Now, early this morning, Karen Heywood, a 30-year-old nurse. She died during a home invasion. She was stabbed 40 times, but first, she was bludgeoned with weapons of opportunity."

- "Eight different ones, to be exact."- I read out loud and raised an eyebrow.

- "That's too many weapons for one person."- Rossi added as I nodded in agreement.

- "There was a left- and a right-handed kill according to the M. E. Report."

- "Yeah, but 8 different weapons."- Rossi insisted, a little shocked.

- "So we're looking for a group."- Morgan added.

- "Yeah, it seems that way. And the left-handed wounds were deeper than the right."- Hotch pointed out from the forensic file.

- "Maybe a woman was involved?"- Spencer asked and I nearly gasped, turning to him.

- "How dare you, Reid? It might have also been a very weak man!"- I argued and he cut me the sweetest smile I had seen that day. It melted my heart in a second.

- "Sorry."

- "Anything taken from the house?"- Hotch's voice took me back to the case and forced me to focus on the files.

- "According to a neighbor, just some random stuff. A computer, some jewelry, a framed picture of a lily."- Pen listed and Morgan added

- "And pawnable items. What do we have, kill crooks? "

- "Sounds like a musical."- I smiled at Rossi's comment and continued reading my case file.

- "Similar victim, young professionals kill three miles apart."- Hotch said and sighed.

- "Is there a gang situation in Portland?"- Ashley asked and Spencer shook his head immediately.

- "Minimal. This seems more like desperate people in need of quick cash."

- "Why kill them if it's just for the money?"- she asked again, and this time Aaron replied.

- "That's what we have to find out. And we've got eight hours till nightfall. Let's go."

And just like that, we were back on the field making our best to carry out an investigation and find the killers before they strike again. During the plane trip, I sat next to Spencer and helped him with the geographical profile. But once we landed in Portland, Hotch thought it would be fun to pair me with Morgan and sent us to the supermarket where the victim had been last seen. And Spencer was paired with Ashley. Just them, alone. I took a deep breath and nodded. I couldn't argue, we were on a case and Hotch was our unit chief.

- "You are not gonna kill Seaver later when we get to the station?"- Morgan asked and I chuckled as he drove us to the supermarket.

- "Nope, why? Did you have a plan to stop me?"

- "That's good to hear, I didn't really have a plan actually"

- "Do you want a cupcake?"- I opened my backpack and opened a plastic container.

- "Where did you get those? Pen made them for Seaver."

- "She saved some for her, but she gave me a few for the trip."- I smiled at my friend and licked part of the frosting. He grabbed one and chuckled.

- "I'm glad, princess."

- "That I have sugar?"

- "No, that you are giving Seaver a chance"

- "Well, it's no fault her dad killed my aunt. And yes, her attitude at the beginning pushed me and Spencer to face our feelings, so..."- I shrugged and sighed, slightly defeated by reality- "Besides, we are not really in the mood for fighting. I am so done with that. I just want some peace after everything that happened."

Morgan placed his hand on mine and squeezed it for a second. I turned to him and saw a million emotions going down his face. All at once: sadness, anger, gratitude. But he didn't say a thing, and I didn't push him either. I just smiled and told him to slow down or we were gonna get a ticket for speeding.

Spencer's point of view

I could still see (Y/N)'s smile as she said goodbye earlier that day. I waved and watched her get in the SUV with Morgan. She held my hand for a second and wished me a good day. I promised I would text her later and she said she couldn't wait.

- "Spencer, we are here"- Seaver announced and I parked our car outside a club. I wasn't nervous about being paired with Sesaver, I knew (Y/N) was making her best to get along with her, and she trusted me.

- "So Mr. Johnson exits the nightclub through the back door to get to his car."- I said, trying to focus on the case as we walked through a short street at one side of the club, trying to find anything that might tell us more about what happened there.

- "Maybe one unsub can watch from over there and the other from back there"- Ashley said and pointed to both ends of the street.

- "Then when he gets here, another unsub hits him with a pipe and it's game on."- I conclude and start thinking how many men attacked Johnson in the middle of the night and no one saw a thing.

- "Look at the vials, Reid. This is a drug corridor."- she pointed out, and suddenly I remembered the Dilaudid bottle I still had back home. I had to get rid of that thing before I had a moment of weakness. I didn't trust myself at all with that thing around.

- "That would explain why there's so much kill. Maybe they were on something."- I said and looked at Ashley, who was trying her best to be professional on her first official day of work.

- "On the jet, I did some research into the club. A year ago, someone O.D.'D inside. Since then, new management clamped down on the partying."

- "Which means the unsubs most likely fit into this area."

- "Well, if you can't party inside, then you come out here. They're probably all the same age."- somehow, just thinking about drugs was upsetting.

- "Yeah, mid-twenties."

I had forgotten, I was a junkie in his mid-twenties, struggling to stay sober. But I couldn't think of that at that minute, I had to focus on the case and stop whoever was killing all those people.

- "Thank you for coming to my graduation"- Seaver said as I drove us back to the police station- "It really meant a lot to me."

- "We were glad to be there"- I answered and kept my eyes on the road.

- "How have you been holding on?"- she asked, out of the blue. No one had mentioned Emily the entire day, though we were all thinking about her the entire time.

- "Ok, I guess"- I replied, though I didn't want to talk much about the subject.

- "I'm sure having your girlfriend with you was very comforting these days. I mean, you both knew Prentiss very well, and I am sure you could... count on each other."

- "Yes, we do"- Seaver nodded and looked outside her window in silence for a moment. I thought she wasn't going to ask any more personal questions, but I was wrong.

- "So, are you living together already?"

- "No, we usually alternate apartments."

- "Why don't you pick one and live together?"

- "I don't know, we haven't talked about it yet."- I didn't feel comfortable speaking with Seaver about the subject.

- "And would you like to move in with her?"- I didn't want to answer, but I didn't really know how to get out of that conversation. And honestly, if I was planning to propose to her soon, shouldn't we move in together as well?

- "Yeah, I would"- I merely answered, and luckily, her phone rang and Hotch updated us with the facts of the case. It wasn't good, apparently, the unsub was a drug addict hallucinating. He was young, using, and out of control. It all pointed out that he might be a psychotic schizophrenic and to be honest, that was a second reality blow. I could be like that. During one's mid-twenty was when schizophrenia's symptoms would first appear. It had happened to my mother and I still wasn't in the clear.

That was my biggest fear, sharing her disease, her fate. Losing touch with reality now that for the first time in my life, it was a sweet one, with an even sweeter future. I hadn't even considered the idea but, what if I passed the disease to my kids, my babies with (Y/N). I would ruin their lives and hers. She would hate me, Jesus! I would hate myself for it! And the worst was knowing there was nothing I could do about it, 'cos so far, no doctor had found any sign of schizophrenia in me.

- "Honey? Are you listening?"- I turned to look at (Y/N), who was staring at me, standing outside the car- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah, sorry, I was deep in thought."

- "I kinda figured, Seaver got out of the car ten minutes ago. Why are you still here?"

- "The unsub is hallucinating."

- "Yes"

- "He seems paranoid, on drugs and he is hurting people"- she nodded again as I kept staring at my hands, still holding the wheel.

- "What's happening in that gorgeous head of yours, honey?"

- "Nothing, I'm just trying to focus."

- "I saved you a cupcake"- she whispered and opened the car's door- "Come on, you need a cup of tea and something to eat."- and of course, I followed her. How could I resist such an invitation? But my head didn't stop working and overanalyzing every fact from the case. I couldn't stop seeing myself in that unsub.

That night I got to share my room with Morgan, which wasn't that bad. We talked about random things, none of us wanted to talk much about the case or Prentiss. So we both kept it casual. Of course, he tried to tease me with (Y/N) for a while, but I didn't say a word. That was until she knocked on our door in her pajamas, holding a cup of herbal tea.

- "Hotch is testing my strength right now!"- she argued and walked in - "Seaver has been on the phone with her mother for forty freaking minutes, telling her everything she did today. Everything!"

Morgan laughed as I wrapped an arm around my girlfriend, sitting next to her on my bed. She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed.

- "And what were you guys doing?"

- "I was about to tell Reid we should watch some tv before bed."

- "And I was going to decline that offer 'cos I still haven't finished my book today"- (Y/N) smiled at me and kissed the top of my nose.

- "But you finished the other three you have in our bag, I'm sure. Give your head a break honey. Let's watch a movie with Morgan and then I'll go to my room, hoping Seaver is done talking about everything she did today."

- "Someone should tell her she can't share any case-related information with people outside the team."- Morgan suggested, but (Y/N) simply shook her head and smiled.

- "No me my friend, I am not getting into more trouble because of her. Hotch is already done with our fights and I don't want her to tell him I am being mean again."

- "You don't have to be mean, ma cherie."

- "I know, but it kinda comes easy when I talk to her"- my girlfriend pouted and I smiled. Sometimes all I needed was to have her by my side to ease my mind for a little while.

Of course, that night wasn't easy. After we watched a very bad comedy on tv, (Y/N) went back to her room and Morgan turned off his light. I tried to read for a while, but I couldn't. Instead, I wrote a very short letter to my mom and then rolled in bed until four in the morning. Morgan's snoring didn't make it easier, and I missed (Y/N)'s body by my side, keeping me sane. I knew she was two doors down the hall, but that didn't make me feel any better. I needed her next to me, the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair. The peace that knowing I had her in my arms gave me every night had no comparison. She was all I needed to be happy, and trying to sleep alone in that cold bed was just proof of that very fact.

Morning found me already weary. I took a shower and followed Morgan downstairs to the lobby. (Y/N) was already there, holding two cups of fresh coffee.

- "How was your night?"- she whispered and kissed my lips sweetly.

- "I missed you."- my answer was honest, I didn't even try to hide my feelings.

- "I missed you too, Batsy. Now drink your coffee, you look like you need five of these."- I held her hand for a second and took in her smile, trying to record it in my brain in case anything happened. Now I knew things could go wrong, and thought I had to make an effort not to think about it, I couldn't act blind all the time.

- "Ok lovers! We get it, you are in love! Now let's get to work, I wanna catch this son of a bitch today!"- Morgan walked by our side and on his way out of the hotel. (Y/N) chuckled and kissed my cheek one more time and winked at me.

- "Hold onto that until tonight, Batsy."

That was a long day, and it didn't get much better. We started with a new murder, and all the signs kept leading us to a paranoid schizophrenic. My brain wasn't helping that day either. I just couldn't see something I was sure we were missing from the profile. I heard the team deliver all the information to the police, and all I could hear them saying kept scarring and upsetting me.

- "We believe our unsub is a white male paranoid schizophrenic who suffers from hallucinations. Since schizophrenic breaks usually occur in your early twenties, we believe he's around this age and that he lives nearby. We think this unsub is hypervigilant, and in this condition, he's unable to travel very far from his home."

Hotch's words made me frown. Could I turn into that? Was that my destiny? All those headaches I had developed before (Y/N) and I started dating, were they a sign?

- "He kills at night and is extremely violent. During the day, he's most likely a loner. Someone in this state probably can't keep a job. We believe something happened to our unsub in his childhood. Childhood voices are telling him to kill, or he's misinterpreting them as doing so."

Rossi added, and I started fidgeting with my fingers as I sat in silence at the back, not able to add anything to the presentation.

- "Our unsub has probably been coping until now, but a recent stressor brought him back to that childhood incident and is causing him to act out."- I heard (Y/N) add my mind took me back to my childhood, my mother struggling with her illness and not taking her medication as she was supposed to. I could never put my kids in that kind of situation. My kids. Would I ever be able to hold a baby of my own in my arms? Not if I was on the verge of showing schizophrenic

- "Our unsub spends his days wandering, trying to fight the desire to kill, yet he feels trapped by his hallucinations. No matter what he does or tries to do, the hallucination's power is greater than his own."

- "Because of his limited social circle as a child, it is our belief that the incident involved close friends or family. Now, once we figure out what happened when he was a kid and the stressor that recently triggered a relapse, we'll be that much closer to narrowing down the killer's identity."- (Y/N) finished talking and Hotch turned to me, waiting for my thoughts and knowledge.

- "Reid?"

- "We need you all to start searching in this area."- I slowly stood up and handed one of the detectives the map I had been working on.- "Based on previous kills, we know that he strikes at night and will not retreat until we find him."

I knew I had failed to hide my worries, Hotch noticed it, clearly, (Y/N) did as well, and when Morgan walked to me in the men's room as I washed my face, I knew he had as well.

- "You know, that profile kind of makes it sound like schizophrenia leads to serial killing."- I whispered as I dried my face with some paper towels.

- "That's not what we said at all, Reid."- Morgan walked over and stood next to me, as I turned and sat on the edge of the sink.

- "You know, my mom has schizophrenia. There are many different types: catatonic, disorganized... just because someone suffers from the inability to organize their thoughts or they can't bathe or dress themselves, it doesn't mean they'd stab someone in the chest 30 times postmortem."

Old me would have kept all that info for himself, but I was done with lies and secrets between friends. For once, I wanted to tell people how I felt. And I was scared, confused, and mostly, frustrated.

- "Reid, what's really going on?"

- "Our unsub's hallucinations aren't fractured like a typical schizophrenic. They're vivid and clear, leading me to believe that we're missing an important variable. Rather than making crazy conjectures, I think we should be trying to figure out what it is."

- "Ok, listen to me. I know this is a scary age for you. It's when schizophrenic breaks happen. Have you talked to anybody about this?"- I felt his hand on my shoulder, trying to contain me or support me. I kept my eyes down on my feet as I whispered.

- "No."

- "Have you seen a doctor?"

- "They all say I'm fine."

- "Then why don't you believe them?"

- "Because predicting one's chances of developing a genetic condition is like finding a penny in an ocean. I've had terrible headaches. I can't sleep at night. I can't focus on our cases. I only read 5 books last week."

- "Come on, kid, you gotta cut yourself some slack. You and (Y/N) just started dating, no one expects you to sleep at all."- Morgan chuckled and I cut him a short smile- "Besides, you're also depressed about Prentiss, and I get it... we all are. Reid, I miss her every day. But if your mind was splitting, do you really think you'd be able to figure out that this team is missing a variable?"

- "I'm just speculating that we are. I need to prove it."- I mumbled, clearly still frustrated.

- "Ok, then you do that. The moment you are wandering around the streets aimlessly, that's when I'll be concerned about you. Besides, your girlfriend would never let anything bad ever happen to you."- I smiled at those words as if (Y/N) could prevent a disease from attacking my brain.- "Come on, pretty boy. Let's get to work."

Of course, (Y/N) knew something was off with me. She looked at me as I walked into the room and cut me a short smile. I returned the grin and tried to reassure her I was ok. Sure, I wasn't, but I had to pretend. For work's sake at least.

- "I made you a tea"- she whispered and handed me a cup while Rossi busied himself reading some files and Hotch walked over, talking on the phone with García.

- "Thank you, ma cherie."

- "Do you need help with your geographic profile?"

- "I think I got something, actually"- I held her hand underneath the table for a moment and she gave it a little squeeze. I wanted to whisper something, but Hotch hung up the phone and I quickly turned to him, ready to finally contribute to the case.

- "You know, at the grocery store where Karen Heywood was shopping the night she was murdered, the clerk said the unsub was buying water and a lot of salt."

- "Saltwater could be used to torture his victim."- Rossi said, but I shook my head immediately.

- "Well, there's no evidence of that."- Morgan said and Ashley added

- "It could also be used to remove the victim's blood from clothing."

- "Think about this, though. The visions that schizophrenics have can be interpreted as demons. What do some people do when they think they have demons inside of them?"- I asked the group.

- "They could get an exorcism."- (Y/N) answered- "Sounds extreme, but this guy seems to be desperate"

- "Holy water is used in exorcisms."- Rossi added.

- "What about the salt?"- Seaver asked, and (Y/N) explained briefly

- "Salt is used in exorcisms and a variety of religious healings. Also in spells and wicca rituals. Now what we should do is see how many churches we can find in his comfort zone"

- "Three"- I replied and pointed at the map.

- "All right, let's see if any of them keep their doors open late."- Hotch commanded and we all stood up. At least working kept my mind busy and helped me stop overthinking, at least for a while.

(Y/N)'s point of view

It was clear something was wrong with Spencer. Schizophrenia was always a sensitive subject for him, for obvious reasons. And if the unsub was around our age, I was sure he was relating to him more than he should. Spencer wasn't schizophrenic, he hadn't presented any symptoms so far, and I knew he wouldn't. But he was worried all the time. It hunted him, like a nightmare he could never wake up from. I had always tried to ease his mind, and tell him it was all going to be ok, but under the already hard circumstances we were in, my boyfriend couldn't escape the dark thoughts.

And what was worse, I couldn't be with him that day. As soon as we reached the police station we were informed there had been another murder and Hotch asked Spencer and Morgan to go to the crime scene.

And there I was, at the police station with Seaver, talking. Yes, me, talking with her, trying to be friendly. She asked me to review the case file again, in case we were missing anything and I helped her. Hotch looked at us from the other side of the table and nodded. Of course, he was happy I was giving her a chance, and I was happy he wasn't scolding me again.

Spencer and Morgan arrived with the news: the unsub couldn't sleep, that was the missing variable. And that was all Garcia needed to give us a name and an address.

- "I looked at that list of schizophrenics that have been recently arrested in that 40-mile radius. I cross-checked it with ones that have gone to local pharmacies to get schizophrenia medication like thorazine or prolixin."- Penelope announced through the speaker. Spencer sat by my side and held my hand underneath the table, just as he had done the day before. I suppressed the smile and tried to focus.

- "Any of them have prescriptions filled for sleeping medication as well?"- Hotch asked and his voice took me back to reality.

- "Yes, one. Ben Foster. He has a prescription for thorazine and ambien."

- "What's his background, baby girl?"

- "He moved to Portland 3 years ago. A month ago he was in an apartment fire, after which he got a sleeping pill medication because his insomnia began again. When he was 10, he was questioned during an investigation about a fire that killed three people."

- "It could be part of the homicidal triad."

- "I'm looking at the police report right now. It turns out that two months before, his mom had a local minister perform an exorcism on him, and the three people who were killed in the fire helped perform that exorcism."

- "There it is! The exorcism!"- I pointed out, excited it had been true- "Pen, was he charged?"

- "No munchkin. He was acquitted in juvie court."

- "You got an address?"- Hotch closed the file case, looking rather impatient.

- "Uh, 2627 Halden way."

- "Let's go!"

- "Is your vest well adjusted?"- Spencer asked the second we got out of the SUV outside the address. I nodded and he still double-checked.

- "I'm ok honey. Nothing bad is gonna happen to me"- I whispered, taking a look around, making sure no one was paying attention to us.

- "Of course not, I am here and I'm gonna protect you no matter what."

- "Reid, you and (Y/L/N) take the side, Morgan and Seaver, the back. Rossi, come on"- Hotch commanded and in a second I had my gun in my hands and I was ready to catch our unsub. A part of me felt pity for him, he was sick, and he probably wasn't a bad person, but life had taken the best of him.

- "He is out back!"- we heard Morgan yell and the entire team started running out to the street.

I followed Spencer down the sidewalk, looking around us at any movement. The police and the rest of the team were near, trying to get eyes on Ben. But nothing. For eight minutes we got absolutely nothing. No one had seen the unsub running.

- "Hotch, we lost him"- Morgan announced through the radio. It was most likely that he had gotten into one of the houses to hide. And I knew we couldn't knock on every door in the neighborhood.

- "I think we've got something at 2218."- Hotch announced and I followed him along with Spencer to the back door.

- "Make his stop, please."- I heard Ben's voice arguing in the living room, and a little girl replied.

- "There's no one there."- my blood boiled when I realized he had two kids as hostages.

- "They're right there!"- the unsub yelled, and that's when Hotch, Spencer, and I walked into the room.

- "Ben, drop the knife."- our Unit Chief commanded. I kept my gun pointed at the unsub's face, as he grabbed the kids and pointed a knife at their necks.

- "Ben, we're not gonna shoot you, but we do need you to put down that knife, ok?"- I asked in the nicest tone of voice possible. When you are in a situation that includes kids, you have to make all you can to keep them from any traumatizing outcome.

- "All right, where are the other people in this room, Ben?"- Spencer asked slowly

- "Right there. You see him?"- the unsub pointed just where Reid was standing.

- "Right here?"- he asked and Ben nodded- "Were they there for the exorcism?"

- "I didn't kill them, though. I didn't do it! And I'm not lying!"

- "Ben, they're dead and they can't hurt you anymore."- I tried to explain, but I knew he wasn't going to understand that. He was increasingly more and more nervous.

- "They can!"

- "No, Ben. Your mind is playing tricks on you. Once you get help, it'll all stop."- Morgan said, also pointing a gun to his face.

- "Yes, you are!"- Ben argued with the imaginary people- "Yeah, ok. All right, I killed you. I set the fire!

- "Ben, listen to us. It's ok. We're gonna get you a doctor's help. I promise you that."- I tried to soothe him 'cos he was losing control, but he shook his head and tightened his grip on the kids.

- "No. The... The only way that you can help me is if you do it... If you kill me."

- "Ben, that's not true. Listen, the only way we can help you is if you put that knife down"- Spencer said as he put his gun back into his holster and raised his hands, trying to look unthreatening. I didn't hesitate, I unlocked my gun and kept it pointed at Ben as he spoke.

- "Are you sure that'll work?"

- "Oh, I'm absolutely sure of it."- Spencer replied.

- "Ok."- Ben released the kids and they ran out of the room with Seaver, that's when Ben grabbed his knife tight and ran to Spencer. But before he had taken two steps closer to him, I pulled the trigger and shoot him right in the leg.

- "We need an ambulance."- Hotch announced via radio, as Morgan kicked the knife away from Ben's hand.

- "Thanks"- Spencer whispered and walked towards me. I cut him a short smile and he held my hand.

- "I've got your back, honey. Always."- I whispered and wrapped an arm around him. I knew I was never going to hesitate, I would always pull the trigger if it meant his safety.

- "Are you ok?"- he asked and rubbed his hands kindly against my arms as we watched the paramedics take Ben outside the house straight to the ambulance.

- "Yeah, I'm ok. You?"- he just nodded and sighed. I knew something was bothering him, something his head couldn't stop overanalyzing, but he wasn't going to tell me about it, at least not yet.

- "Ready to go home?"- I asked him and he just nodded again- "I feel like cooking tonight, we deserve a nice good homemade dinner."

- "Marry me"- he said, blushing and I chuckled.

- "I'm guessing you liked the idea of me cooking then!"

- "That and you just saved my life."

- "You'd have done the same for me, honey bunny."

- "Hey, Reids! Come on! Time to go home!"- Morgan called us and we made our way out of the house.

Later that night, after a long trip and a nice dinner, Spencer and I laid on his couch, curled around each other, enjoying each other's company. He ran his fingers through my hair from time to time as I sighed in contentment, pleased to feel his scent around me as I rested my head on his chest and heard the sweet beat of his heart.

- "Do you like it here, ma cherie?"

- "I like anywhere where I can be with you, batsy."- I replied and he hummed, pleased with my answer, I guessed.

- "But, do you like my apartment?"

- "It's nice, it's so much like you, sometimes it feels like being inside your brain. I could definitely live here"- he hummed again and after a few minutes, he moved on the couch until he was looking straight into my eyes. I moved a few locks of hair from my face and he smiled, kissing the top of my nose.

- "And would you like to?"

- "What?"

- "Would you like to live here? With me?"

For a second, I didn't believe my ears. Had he actually said what I heard him say? Did he want to live with me? For real?

- "Wh... what?"

- "It doesn't have to be here, we can find somewhere new, or I can go to your apartment. I don't care where, I just... wanna live with you. I don't ever wanna wake up away from you anymore."

- "Wh... where is this coming from?"

- "My... heart?"- he answered and hesitated for a second.- "If you think it's too soon, we don't have to do it, I can wait. I just... wanna live with you."

- "I wanna live with you too"- I blurted out and sat on the couch, his body following mine in a second.

- "You do?!"- he questioned, not believing my answer- "You don't think it's too soon?"

- "I don't care if it's too soon! I wanna move in with you!"- Spencer hugged me and his lips found mine in a matter of seconds. I kissed him feverishly and felt his hands tangle on my hair as his tongue partnered my lips.

- "I love you"

- "Me more"

- "No ma cherié, no one loves anyone as much as I love you"

- "Then I'm glad we are gonna move in together, so I can prove you wrong!"

Next chapter

Taglist:

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@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @all-tings-diego @muffin-cup @cynbx @meowiemari

Spencer Tag list @calm-and-doctor @lovejules888

DIWK Taglist @tvandfanfic @shilohpug @eternalharry @fandomtrash2405 @eyakoroleva @nani-2305 @padsfirewhisky

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@miaxx03

#criminal minds #Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid fanfic #fanfiction #babymetaldoll writes #Spencer Reid x fem!reader #Criminal Minds fanfiction #Matthew Gray Gubler #MGG #fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you

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officialzepresentation · 3 months ago

Text

bored so let me introduce my small town of media crossover

fandoms included: supernatural, 9-1-1, marauders, ted lasso, criminal minds (but its supernatural and marauders-centric, everyone else is mentioned or a consistent side character)

what ships are included, zep??? - you, presumably

Well, in supernatural, the following (relevant) ships are:

Dean W x Castiel S

Meg M x Anna M

Bobby S x Ellen H

Adam M x Michael M

Claire N x Kaia N

(Sam, jo, charlie, and others are further down in crossover ships)

In criminal minds, find:

Jennifer J x Emily P

(All others are further down in crossover ships or oc x canon ships)

For ted lasso, we have:

Keeley J x Roy K

Ted L x Trent C

(I assume you know the drill by now)

Next up, marauders! See:

Sirius B x Remus L

Peter P x Emmeline V

Lily E x Dorcas M

Marlene M x Mary M

Regulus B x Barty C Jr.

(Do i even have to tell you????)

9-1-1, i could never forget you:

Eddie B-D x Evan B-D

Maddie H x Chimney H

Hen W x Karen W

Bobby N x Athena G

(Taylor K is a citizen... she is below)

Crossover ship time!!

Sam W (spn) x Taylor K (9-1-1)

Jo H (spn) x Elle G (criminal minds)

Charlie B (spn) x Penelope G (criminal minds)

Rowena M (spn) x David R (criminal minds)

Gabriel S (spn) x Derek M (criminal minds)

Kelly K (spn) x Aaron H (criminal minds)

Canon x oc characters now :D

Jamie T (ted lasso) x Remy Durand

Spencer Reid (criminal minds) x Kayden-Cyrus Mars

James P (marauders) x Camden Mars

Evan R (marauders) x Keaton Beckett

Aroace/single characters:

Kennedy Winchester - aroace

Pandora R (marauders) - aroace

Crowley M (spn) - never-ending hoe summer

Rebecca W (ted lasso) - single bad bitch era

May G (9-1-1) - sexuality crisis n single

Children:

Jack K (spn)

Jack H (criminal minds)

Alison Winchester-Kelly

Phoebe K (ted lasso)

Christopher B-D (9-1-1)

Jeeyun H (9-1-1)

Denny W (9-1-1)

Henry L (ted lasso)

Bea C (ted lasso)

Does anyone want more info on this whole thing bc im itching to talk about it 😞

#crossover #crossover au #ted lasso #marauders era #marauders #wolfstar #supernatural #destiel #trans pride #trans representation

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obsidiancreates · 10 months ago

Text

Shawn Acachalla, Interdimensional Psychic Detective (Part 1)

(I'M CONTINUING MY NICHE INDULGENCE FOR ME AND @poltertoast, SHAWN GETS ADOPTED BY THE ACACHALLAS AU IS A GO)

Shawn Spencer went missing when he was 8 years old. It was quiet, unnoticed, and the last time anyone saw him was when he had a fight with his father and stormed into his room and shut the door.

Henry Spencer had waited until morning to try and talk to his son, knowing it should have been sooner but shame burning in his veins over what he’d said. He’d never been good at confronting his own faults, especially not with Shawn. But when he’d opened the door the bed was empty, and a few of Shawn’s favorite items were missing.

Henry tore the house apart, and then the station, and anywhere else he thought Shawn might go hiding- while Maddie did the same to the Guster’s house. It was only when a crying, shaking with worry Gus handed over the only trace of evidence that Henry and Maddie knew they wouldn’t find him.

See you later buddy. A simple note, in Shawn’s handwriting, that Gus said had been stuck to the outside of his window with a piece of chewed up gum.

Shawn Spencer ran away from home after a fight with his father. After a year the case was officially considered cold by everyone but Henry. After ten, Henry and Maddie accepted that they couldn’t keep the marriage up anymore, no matter how badly they wanted Shawn to have his whole family when he returned home- and he would. Henry knew his son wasn’t dead, no matter the pitying looks saying so got him at the station. Gus knew it too, and Shawn and Gus were so close that they might as well be psychically linked if Henry believed in those kinds of things, so it’s as good as the word of God to him that Gus never gives up either.

Gus grows up. He wins a spelling bee, he gets into a good college, he ends up in pharmaceutical sales and constantly visiting doctor’s offices, hospitals- Henry is pretty sure he ended up in that job so if Shawn appeared in a hospital one day, Gus would be able to get to him right away. Henry puts off retiring for years, but eventually he does- so he can focus on one specific case.

And then, twenty years after Shawn Spencer went missing, Spencer Acachalla steps out of the woods, spots a missing persons poster, and gets sidetracked.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn Spencer is 8 years old when he runs away from home because he’s not wanted anymore.

He sneaks out of his room, puts some of his favorite toys and CDs in a little handkerchief from a cowboy costume Gus lent him, ties it to the end of a stick, and sets out. He won’t leave Gus with nothing- not when Gus is the thing he’ll miss most- so he climbs up to his friend’s window and sticks a note to it before walking away from home for the last time.

He mostly walks, runs, travels by foot. His dad would notice his bike missing right away, and he’d come find him. Shawn doesn’t want him to find him. Not when he knows it’s just because adults have to go looking for kids who run away. Even ones they don’t want.

“We talked about this, Shawn! I never want to hear you say that again!”

“I don’t wanna be a cop!” He’s not sure if that’s true, really. But he’s sick of his dad never letting him even imagine being something else for just a little while.

“Shawn, you have a gift and that gift comes with responsibility!”

“None of the other kids have to be responsible!”

“Because the other kids are idiots! You’re special, Shawn, and you need to act like it!”

“I don’t want to be special then!”

“Too bad, kid, because there’s only one of you.”

“Well then have another kid and make them be a cop!”

“I'm not going to have to have another kid just so I can tell people that I have one that’s not a disappointment!”

Shawn runs inside before his dad can see he’s crying.

Shawn kicks a rock. “Stupid memory,” he mumbles. “I hate being so weird.”

The rock hits a tree, and Shawn looks up and realizes he’s at the edge of a forest and the sun is starting to come up. He pulls a little map out of his pocket, and after a minute he’s pretty sure he knows where he is. If he goes right through the trees, he should be able to make it out of Santa Barbara entirely before he runs out of the candy bars he brought for sustenance.

He readjusts his little stick and bindle and walks into the woods. Within twenty minutes he regrets the choice because he’s covered in bug bites, scrapes, and mud.It’s as he slaps another mosquito going for his neck that he misses a root and trips.

“AHHHHHH!” He tumbles down the little hill, closing his eyes as he’s sure he’s actually falling off a great big cliff!

And then he lands on… pavement.

That’s not out in the woods.

He opens his eyes and looks up to see a wobbly, water-like circle in the air above him, showing the same forest he’d just been falling through, and then the circle is gone and he’s staring at the closed gate of a driveway.

He sits up, quickly taking in his surroundings. A large driveway and front yard, pool to his right and playhouse to his left, safe to assume this is a house where kids live. The first window he sees is looking into a living room, and he can just make out the top of a bald head. He keeps low to the ground, and looks around for any sign of how he got here other than the weird circle.

Nothing. It’s the middle of a suburb, and it’s definitely not in Santa Barbara.

And then the bushes separating him from the playhouse rustle, and he gasps and whips around. A boy, maybe a couple years older than him, tumbles out of the bushes. They meet eyes. And the boy grins.

“SALLY!” He springs up and grabs Shawn by under the arms, lifting him up. “NEW BROTHER!”

“NEW BWOTHER?” a girl closer to Shawn’s age falls out of the bushes next. The two kids look nothing alike. The boy is tall, somewhat slim, with pale skin and bright blue eyes and slightly wavy black hair. The girl is short, pudgy, tan skin and brown eyes, with very curly dark brown hair. Adoption? It’d make their declaring him a new brother make a little more sense.

“I’m not an orphan,” Shawn protests. “I’m a runaway. See?” He waves his bindle in the boy’s face.

“Wow! A runaway! Just like Papa!”

“Alrigh’ what’s goin’ on out he- WHO IS THAT?!”

The bald head makes an appearance at the front door. It belongs to a large man with a strong southern accent, stronger facial hair, and even stronger love of denim clothing. He’s large in every way possible: he’s tall, he’s fat, and his presence feels like it takes up the whole yard.

“I found a boy on the driveway and I want him to be our brother!” the boy declares.

“BILLY! No takin’ in strays!”

“But Papaaaaa!”

“I told yer mama that we ain’t takin’ in no more-”

“Told me what?” The woman who comes around from the side with the pool- the yard must wrap around the whole house then- is just like the others in that she shares absolutely no resemblance to any of them. Her long red hair is tied up in a neat bun, her green eyes are brighter than any Shawn’s ever seen in real life, and even though she’s on the slim side he can see a tightness in her sleeves that suggests muscle. Which is probably due to the giant crowbar she’s holding perfectly aloft with one hand like it’s easy as breathing. Shawn gasps a little again, eyes going wide.

But the woman looks delighted the moment she lays eyes on him. “Oh my goodness! Billy, did you find a new brother?”

“I did Mama I did!”

“Well hey there lil’ guy!” She walks closer, the crowbar just… disappearing from her hands. Shawn’s eyes go even wider. “My name’s Mama Gertrude, what’s yours?”

“Um… Sh-Shawn.”

“Well that is a very nice name.”

“Gertrude, I know what yer thinkin’-”

“How’d you end up in our yard, Shawn?”

“I… don’t know.” When no-one scoffs or tells him he should know, he decides to go on. “I um, I ran away from home and then I tripped and suddenly I was here.”

Gertrude turns and looks at the man in the doorway- presumably her husband. “Let’s just feed him and hear out why he ran away.”

“Wh- no! No, no! Gertrude, we are not takin’ in any more kids!”

“Oh, you shut your yap.” Gertrude scoops Shawn out of the boy- Billy’s- arms and yeah, yeah Shawn knows for sure now that this lady is absolutely jacked. He’s so confused by how quickly this is all moving that he doesn’t even protest when he’s carried into the house, into a small dining room, and plopped into a chair.

“Looks like we’ve got… apples!” Gertrude looks above the table, and a dozen apples just fall out of the air.

Shawn’s mouth drops open. “How did you do that?”

“Do what, hon?”

“Make apples out of nothing!”

“I… don’t understand.”

The girl and Billy hop into seats across from Shawn, and Billy gasps. “Mama, Mama! He came from a portal so maybe he’s from one of those weird dimensions where they can’t spawn things!”

“Oh! Poor little guy, is that true?”

“Uhhhhh… I think so.”

Papa shakes his head. “That’s worse! Gertrude, this kid’s gonna get the government on us! I ain’t goin’ back to jail, Gertrude-”

“The government won’t come after him, it was just an interdimensional portal, we get tons of those around here!” She waves off the concern while blowing Shawn’s mind in the same sentence.

“I’m in another dimension?” He looks around. It doesn’t look very otherworldly.

“You’ll weally like it hewe!” the girl says. “We’ve got toys an’ waffles an’ Fweddy-”

“Fre- Sally, I told’ya to get that dinosaur outta my yard!”

“Awww, but Papa, he’s so cute!”

“He tried to eat me!”

“He did eat you, hon.”

“He is not allowed! In my yard!”

“What if we put a gate on the pool and put him there?” Gertrude reasons. Shawn misses out on Papa’s response, because he hears shuffling and gets up and looks outside and there’s a real living and breathing dinosaur in the yard.

“See? Fweddy is adoweable!” Sally squeals from beside him, making him startle because he hadn’t even heard her walk up. “Wanna wide him?”

“Ride a dinosaur?” Shawn grins for the first time since the fight with his dad. “Yeah!”

“FWEDDY!” At Sally’s call, the dinosaur looks up and stomps over. It nuzzles her affectionately, and then she grabs Shawn’s hand and holds it out. “Meet my new bwother!”

Freddy sniffs Shawn’s hand, and after a tense moment where Shawn thinks he might die by dinosaur bite, which would admittedly be pretty cool, Freddy nuzzles his hand too and kneels down. Sally hops on top, and helps pull Shawn up.

“This is awesome! I gotta tell Gus about-! … Oh.” Shawn slumps. “I guess I can’t.”

“Awww, look at that, Acachalla! Kids, look down here!” Gertrude waves for them to look at her, holding a camera the size of her head up. “Smile!”

Sally grins brightly, and Shawn musters up a small smile. Gus would love this, even if the dinosaur isn’t the same as the big head he made…

“Me too, me too!” Billy jumps up onto Freddy’s back. “Hahaha! Let’s ride him down to the 7-11!”

“NO! NO YOU KIDS AIN’T TAKIN’ THE DINOSAUR TO MY STORE- hey, wait. I have the place insured. … LET’S GO, KIDS!” Papa runs out ahead of them, and Sally and Billy cheer. Shawn can’t help but get swept up in the idea of destroying a store with a dinosaur with adult permission, and his smile becomes more genuine.

He will tell Gus about this someday. Someday when he’s so awesome his dad will never be able to call him a disappointment again!

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn stays with the Acachallas that night, and the next, and the next, and then before he knows it he’s been there for six months and he has his own room, own clothes, and own spot at the table. And he knows this world is definitely more fun than the last one.

He’s ridden a dinosaur, watched the people he’s starting to genuinely be able to consider family phase through walls and fly up in the air, watched Billy fall out of the treehouse and die and then disappear and walk out from the house giggling about coming back from the dead, watched a cop come to the house and then turn into a bird and stop caring about the building-destroying dinosaur because “birds don’t care”-

“I’m never going to be a cop,” Shawn had declared the next morning, and the response had been mostly support- and a little confusion about why he said it.

That had been about three months in, and had been when Shawn told them about why he ran away finally, and when Gertrude had pulled him into a hug so tight it literally crushed his bones- which surprisingly didn’t hurt, even though it had killed him.

He saw his own body for a few seconds after that, and then he was back in it and standing in the backyard, and Mama Gertrude was running out and apologizing and he realized maybe I can do that stuff too.

And now, six months in, he spawn himself a breakfast burrito and chows down while Sally eats a stack of waffles taller than she is and Billy eats a whole watermelon, rind and all. Papa munches on some bacon while Mama Gertrude eats a bagel with cream cheese, which had been glowing green earlier that morning but seems fine now.

“Awe you gonna stawt coming to school with us?” Sally asks Shawn out of nowhere. Shawn groans.

“I don’t want to go to school in a world where I can ride dinosaurs!”

“We have dinosaurs at school too! And lottsa friends and also cool classmates like Godzilla and ghosts!”

“You go to school with Godzilla? I take it back, count me in!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn has lived in Little Butts, North Carolina, with the Acachalla family for a full year and still goes by Shawn Spencer. Mostly because he’s still not sure this is all real, but he really hopes it is.

It’s at the exact one year mark that he comes face-to-face with ‘the elder god trapped in mortal form’ that lives in the basement alongside what Sally calls “Uncle Jewemy” but Papa calls “that shadowy thang down there”. He doesn’t realize it’s the alleged elder god at first though, because when he walks downstairs he just sees a kid a year or two older than him with giant glasses, a too-big sweater vest over a button-up shirt, and the messiest and brightest orange hair he’s ever seen.

The kid turns to look at him and jumps back. “Who the heck are you?!” His voice is a little weird, like everyone else Shawn has met in this world. Sally talks like a baby, Billy always sounds like he’s yelling, Mama Gertrude’s voice is almost unbelievably motherly to a parody-like degree, and Papa’s accent comes and goes by it’s own will.

This kid’s voice is almost like he’s slurring his words, and even though he hasn’t said any “S” sounds yet Shawn is certain the kid has an intense lisp. He also has braces, and Shawn gags for real when he realizes they’re entirely covered in rust.

“Who are you?” Shawn says back.

“YOU DON’T KNOW WHO I AM?! I AM THE MIGHTY SPENCE, YOU ABSOLUTE NERD!” Hmm, he said those S’s okay, but something in Shawn says that might just be another one of those “quirks” of the way people talk here.

“Hey, between us, I’m not the nerd here,” Shawn says, crossing his arms and trying not to look like the unintimidating 9 year old that he is. “You’re the one wearing a sweater vest.”

“Oh, that’th it.” Yup, there’s the lisp. Shawn hasn’t let his deductive skills fade away, even though the people here are way harder to predict than in Santa Barbara. Well, that one was kind of obvious to “predict”, but he’s counting it because his dad isn’t here to tell him it doesn’t count.

“Who’s wakin’ me up early?” Papa Acachalla grumbles as he walks down behind Shawn. “Wh- SPENCER!”

Shawn looks up at Papa, but Papa is staring at the boy. Shawn looks back at him.

“Your name is Spencer? … You don’t know a Henry, do you?”

“Uh, no! I am The Mighty Spence, I don’t jutht know, peasanth! Who the heck ith Henry?!”

“No-one.” Shawn looks up at Papa Acachalla, who’s now holding a shotgun- a familiar sight when something happens that Papa didn’t expect. “Who is he?”

“He’s supposed to be in the basement!”

“Wait, he’s the elder god?”

“Sure is, now git! Git in the basement!”

“You can’t make me!”

“I sure can! Shawn, go get Gertrude!”

Shawn runs upstairs. “Mama,” he says, because just like Papa is Papa Acachalla’s title Mama is Gertrude’s, and it fits her perfectly. “There’s a kid downstairs who Papa says is the guy in the basement.”

“Oh, him again?” she says with a yawn as she sits up. “I keep telling Acachalla we should let him out, but he keeps saying Spencer will destroy the world or collect another cult following… I’ll go handle this, sweetie, you go back to bed.”

Shawn goes back to bed for all of five minutes before sneaking back down. He watches Mama Gertrude give Papa Acachalla a talking to, the kind that he shivers just being a viewer of, and with a mumbled agreement Papa turns to Spencer and says “Fine. Since we’ve got one Spencer already up here, ya can come up here too. But yer still sleepin’ in the basement!”

“Acachalla…” Gertrude says in a warning tone.

“An’... the kids’ll help you decorate it.”

Spencer watches Papa warily. “What do you mean by another Thpenther?”

“Shawn’s last name,” Mama Gertrude sighs.

“WHAT?! NO, NO! I REFUTHE TO LIVE IN A HOUTHE WITH THOMEONE THEALING MY NAME!”

Shawn makes a split second decision and says from the stairs, “I can use Acachalla.”

All three downstairs shout in alarm, and if he was still in Santa Barbara Shawn would be worried by the way Papa swings around his shotgun, but he’s not in Santa Barbara so it really doesn’t matter. Even if Papa shoots the wall, it’ll just go away eventually all on it’s own- probably. Sometimes it doesn’t, but that’s rarer than when it does.

Instead of getting scolded for staying up late, or eavesdropping, or getting caught eavesdropping by “blowing his cover”, Mama Gertrude grins when she realizes it’s just him and sweeps him up into a hug. “You mean it?”

He hugs her back. She’s always really warm and her strong grip is always very careful now, after that first incident. She always pays a lot of attention to him, especially when he spins some tall tale or talks about something he likes or makes wild declarations of a new passion or interest. She smells a little like metal, but it’s nice.

“Yeah,” he says with a firm nod. “I’m okay with Shawn Acachalla.”

#psych #venturiantale #taleblr #psychusa #psych usa #psych 2006 #the acachalla family #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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radiant-reid · 3 years ago

Note

Cupid’s Chokehold/Breakfast in America by Gym Class Heroes like Spencer just boasting his girlfriend to everyone

A/n: I adore this song, but it's stuck in my head now

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Y/n

Genre: complete fluff

WC: 2.5k

CW: nothing (??)

There weren't a lot of things Spencer Reid bragged about. He had a lot of accomplishments to brag about, 3 PhDs to start with. But he was extremely modest.

One of the things he was willing to brag about was his godson. Sweet Henry had taught him so much more than he expected a 4-year-old would be able to.

The thing he always gloated about was his girlfriend.

Beautiful Y/n L/n had been with Spencer for 7 months. And he was whipped.

The team sat on the jet on the way to Seattle to do what they did best.

Spencer Reid was uncharacteristically on the phone, wrapping up a phone call. "I'll come over when I'm back... You know that stuff has so much sugar in it?... Alright, that's a fair rebuttal... I know, I thought that was clever...Yes, I'll get Phish food flavored Ben and Jerry's... I promise...I love you... Well, I'd tell you how scientifically inaccurate that is, but I have a feeling you need to go... Okay, goodbye, I love you." He took the phone away from his ear and hung up.

When he looked up at the team, everyone was looking at him. Morgan couldn't stop his snickers, JJ was giving him some serious side-eye, and Kate had a frown on her face. Thankfully, to save him some embarrassment, Hotch and Rossi weren't listening.

Spencer could feel the blush rising on his cheeks as he sheepishly put his phone away.

"I really hope that wasn't a family member," Kate spoke with an amused tone.

Morgan laughed at her. "You don't even want to know, Callahan." He informed her.

"N-no, it wasn't," Spencer assured her, still smiling.

Spencer's shyness inspired her to press the topic. "Okay, I'll bite, seeing as I'm the only one who doesn't know. Who was it?" Kate asked.

If she thought Spencer's bursts of random knowledge was his key talking point, she was about to figure out she was wrong.

"Oh, Callahan, you really should have stopped," Morgan cautioned her, shaking his head at the error in the new agent's ways.

"Y/n is my girlfriend." Spencer began. Both JJ and Morgan were also listening, secretly happy for the baby of the team. "She's the love of my life." He admitted proudly.

"And when did you start telling her you loved her?" JJ prompted, wanting Spencer to tell Kate the hilarious story.

Spencer glared at her, blushing. "I think I should start at the beginning." He told them all. "So, one Saturday, I'm at my apartment. Reading, of course."

"Because it's the only thing he does." Morgan interrupted, ruffling Spencer's already messy hair. Spencer pulled away from him with an annoyed groan.

"But, there's a knock on the door, and I wasn't expecting anyone." Spencer continued the story. "So, when I opened the door, Y/n was standing there." His face lit up with a smile. "She was in this short white summer dress, with a blue floral print. And she was so pretty... she is so pretty." He corrected himself, dreamily thinking about Y/n with a giddy smile.

Kate was smiling at him tenderly. "Keep going with your story. It sounds sweet." She requested.

Spencer nodded, more than happy to tell anyone who asked how much he loved his girlfriend. "Right, so she's in this dress in front of my apartment, and, obviously, we both have no idea who the other is." He explained, moving his hands to make the story more interesting. "Oh, and she has flowers." He still had the image of Y/n's pretty dress in his brain and her pretty face. Which was making it difficult for him to remember the full story. "It was a big bouquet of sunflowers. And I was really nervous about how pretty she was, so I just started on a whole spiel about sunflowers. Like how the scientific name for them is Helianthus, which comes from the Greek words helios, which means sun, and, anthus which means flower." Spencer start, gesturing with his hands.

"How long did you talk for?" Kate asked. For only just joining the team, she was very observant of Spencer's inclination for long rambling.

Morgan chuckled again, shaking his head at the answer he already knew. "4 minutes," Spencer admitted shyly, cheeks painted red. "I asked her if she knew that, in Chinese culture, sunflowers are given at graduations and the start of new businesses because they symbolize good luck." Spencer continued to ramble. "And I think she was a little put off because she just shook her head while frowning." He observed.

"I wonder why," JJ uttered with a side-eyed glance at Spencer. Still, she was smiling at her best friend's happiness.

Spencer just shrugged. "And I told her that sunflowers were the national flower of Ukraine and Russia. And asked her if she knew that they were worshipped by the Incas empire because of their resemblance to the sun. But she still shook her head. Then I told her all about the Fibonacci sequence and how all sunflower seeds follow the pattern." He babbled out facts. Still, it was the short version of what Y/n had heard when they first met.

"Is that how you always talk to girls you like?" Kate asked with an amused smile.

Morgan pipped up again. "Yes, I've tried to help him out before, but it's never worked."

"I did get a girlfriend all on my own." Spencer shot back. Morgan held his hands up in defense while JJ giggled. "When she did finally speak-"

"When you finally gave her the chance to speak." Morgan corrected.

Spencer shot him a glare before continuing. "She told me that clearly, she wasn't at the right apartment. But she wanted to know how I knew so much about sunflowers. And I was surprised that she didn't just think I was weird. She's just so kind." He fondly spoke of his girlfriend. "And I replied by nervously admitting I liked facts. She told me she was impressed, which I didn't believe. Because she's so gorgeous that I figured she'd been hit on a thousand times by guys much more attractive than me." Spencer's self-doubting tendencies came in. "But, somehow, I managed to thank her and ask her where she was meant to go." He continued. "She said it was my next-door neighbor and that the flowers were to cheer up her friend, who had gotten broken up with." Although he felt wrong for it, Spencer smiled at how Y/n's friend's unlucky day was his luckiest day. "So I told her where the apartment was, and then that sunflowers have a vase life of about 7 days. So, she takes a flower out of the bunch and gives it to me. And all she said was that she'd see me next week." Spencer finished the story of one of the best days of his life.

Kate found it adorable, as did JJ and maybe even Morgan, who was just hesitant to admit it. "That's so sweet." Kate cooed. Spencer nodded, still blushing a little. "Do you have a picture?" She asked.

Spencer eagerly pulled out his iPhone, which he only had because Y/n influenced him. She even had to teach him how to use it. He produced a full album of photos which he handed over to Kate to swipe through.

Pictures with Y/n made up 70% of his limited camera roll. Mostly it was photos she insisted on taking of them together. Spencer always argued, but they both knew he enjoyed it.

When he was away of cases, feeling low, he'd just look at a picture of her smiling face from a date they went on. Or Y/n reading in his apartment. He'd never enjoyed photography until he had a muse.

Kate flipped through the photos with a smile.

"The whole fact we even met was extremely improbable," Spencer told them, not diving into the actual number. "And I never believed in fate, but since I've met Y/n, I'm not so sure." He concluded.

Kate handed him his phone back. "You're right. She's pretty." Spencer took his phone, locking it before showing Kate the lock screen wallpaper. It was a picture of him and Y/n that Garcia had managed to capture. Y/n's hands were cupping his cheeks as she looked back into the camera with a huge grin, matching Spencer's. Every time a message came in with bad news, her smile made him feel better.

"I do want to hear the rest of this story, though." Kate reminded him, snapping him out of his daydream.

Spencer put his phone away. "Right, so she came back to my place the next week, and thankfully I was there. And she told me that her friend wasn't even home, but she'd come to see me. Of course, I was a little confused, not expecting her to even come back. But, I invited her into my very messy apartment, which still didn't deter her. She told me all about how her friend had noticed me coming and going at random times of the day and night and wanted to know what was up with that." Spencer recalled clearly. "But she thought I was some type of cool spy, so I just agreed. And I went to make coffee, but Garcia called, and Y/n picked up the phone." Spencer retold the story of how he heard Penelope's loudest squeals.

"So, what happened next?" Kate asked, figuratively on the edge of her seat.

"Right, so Y/n talks on the phone to Garcia until I come in, and she hands it over. And Garcia screamed in my ear for a minute about the 'mystery girl in my apartment.'" Spencer directly quoted with air quotes. "But then she said we had a case. So I had to very apologetically kick Y/n out of my apartment and go. She just kept telling me that it was totally alright." He continued. Maybe fate, if it was real, wasn't always on his side. "But, she gave me her number and said that when I got back, I owed her a cup of coffee," Spencer concluded the story of their second meeting.

He was grateful for Y/n for a lot of things. But, when he thought back to the start of their relationship, it was because of her forwardness.

"And I came back to DC at 5 in the morning, text her, and she was awake, so I agreed to meet her at her favorite cafe, and we got coffee," Spencer recalled their first date. "I brought her sunflowers because, to me, they have a deeper meaning than any ancient civilizations." He added.

To him, sunflowers would always be associated with the love of his life, standing on his doorstep.

"Aww, that's cute," Kate commented. She hadn't profiled Spencer as being a romantic until now. "What was she doing up at 5 am, though?" She questioned.

"Oh, she's a corporate lawyer. She's remarkably bright. She did a joint degree at Yale and Oxford so she can practice law in both countries." Spencer proudly replied. "But she was up because she was working on a merger for a company in London." He answered Kate's original question. "She's so smart that she graduated at the top of her classes in both countries." He continued to brag.

"She sounds really great, Reid," Kate replied. She hadn't been with the team for long, but she'd read all their files. And Spencer deserved every bit of love he was getting.

"Tell her the 'I love you' story." JJ requested, clearly paying more attention than she'd care to admit to the conversation.

Spencer nodded. "So, we'd been dating for 2 months, 25 days, 4 hours, and 21 minutes." He started, making everyone else laugh. "I wanted her to meet the team, and Rossi was having a dinner party, so I invited her. On the day of the party, I go to her apartment to pick her up in a suit." He set the scene for Kate. He had been so nervous for her to meet the team the whole day. "And she's wearing a gorgeous red satin dress. She always looks beautiful, but she looked extra beautiful that day. I was so flustered over how to act because I've never introduced anyone to the team."

When Spencer even announced he was planning on bringing a guest, everyone was shocked. Not one of them had heard about Y/n, but as soon as he spoke about her, they knew it was serious.

"So I go into her apartment, she kisses me, and she asks how I think she looks while she's collecting her things." Spencer began. "And because my brain was so overloaded with worries, I just told her I love her."

Only he would ever be able to see the shocked look on Y/n's face that slowly turned to joy. Only he would remember how it felt when she kissed him again, practically jumping into his arms. Only he would remember how relieved he felt when she said it back.

"She wasn't deterred by that?" Kate asked with a laugh.

Sure, it might have been early, and Spencer was never good with his feelings, but he was sure he loved Y/n.

He shook his head. "She said it back. And, of course, I told her how stunning she looked." He continued the story.

"She sounds great, Reid. When can I meet her?" Kate asked, now intrigued to meet the girl who turned Spencer to mush.

"Uh, well, when we get back to DC, I'm planning on asking her to move in with me." He squeaked out, voice higher.

JJ turned to look at him with wide eyes. "Spence-" She started.

Spencer interrupted, preempting her question. "I know we haven't been dating for long, but I see her nearly every day when I'm in DC. And whenever I'm away, we talk on the phone." He defended his choice.

JJ shook her head at him. "I was going to say congratulations." She corrected him.

"Oh, thank you," Spencer replied. He had been hoping for a warm response, but he wasn't sure he was going to get one.

Since he'd started dating her, he wanted nothing more than to come home from a hard case and have Y/n in his arms. Something about it assured him that everything would be alright.

He turned back to Kate. "So, I guess we'll have a housewarming." He replied, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

He didn't give any thought to what would happen if she said no. Y/n had taught him to be confident.

"Well, I'm very excited," Kate assured him. "Although, you probably shouldn't tell her that her ice cream has 'so much sugar in it.'" She warned him, using air quotes.

Spencer gave her a worried look before smiling.

Morgan stuck out a hand to ruffle his hair again. "You know you haven't stopped smiling since she called?" He observed with a smirk.

A comment like that would have made Spencer blush usually, but he was far too giddy with the thought of Y/n living with him to let it both her.

He just shrugged. "I'm completely in love, and can you blame me?"

Not one of them could fault that statement.

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skiller0dani · 3 years ago

Text

Old Prison Blues | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut | dom!spencer x bau!reader requests info w.c | 7.2k summary | when your husband Spencer gets released from Prison, he's much different then you remember.

I have it so bad for this man, enjoy! Also guys this piece made butterflies squirm in my belly lmao this one is so HOT it made me blush. Guys, it made me B L U S H. I need to go dunk myself in holy water to atone for this SIN. (just kidding lmao I'm agnostic).

you can see his bulge in this gif and I can't stop admiring looking at it.

When you were in college you'd been an undergraduate in Criminal Justice, so you were familiar with the effects Prison has on the psyche. In other words, you knew Spencer would come back different. No person could pass through Prison unscathed and frankly you'd be more concerned if he came back and nothing had changed at all. At home, he seemed to be relatively okay, and those 6 mandatory weeks of break had allowed him the rest he deserved. Nothing exciting had happened during those weeks, the only thing you did was curl up on the couch next to him and watch movies. You'd made up for all those weeks in Prison during the evenings when you would cling to him and cry out his name in ecstasy.

Spencer really did seem to be fine, until you returned to work. That's when you started to see all the ways Prison had hardened him.

At first, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. If you were someone who knew Spencer well then you knew that he wasn't a man who was confident in his looks. When you and Spencer first got married he was insecure, and would be discouraged when you hung out with other guys. You wouldn't say he was jealous because jealously in itself requires a certain amount of anger. But when Spencer saw you around other men he wasn't angry, he was sad. Absolutely convinced you were going to leave him any second, despite you telling him you married him because you love him. Deep down, he always thought somebody would steal you from him even though you consistently reminded him how much you love him. That's just the kind of guy Spencer is.

Or, was.

The darkness that brews in Prison, the violent hatred, the anger seems to have followed Spencer to freedom. It has made a home in his chest, and while you're not worried about Spencer flying off the deep end and shooting an innocent, the anger reveals itself in much more subtle ways. It's in the way he clenches his jaw when he can't figure something out, or the blanching of his knuckles as he grips the steering wheel with a crushing force, it's the agitation in his eyes when he watches Alvez's knuckles brush against your lower back for the 3rd time since you two had arrived at the office this morning. The anger has adapted to civilian life like Spencer has, it's learned. It's subtle. Unfortunately you know Spencer almost better then he knows himself, you can tell when something is bothering him.

You slide your hands over his shoulders, and much to your surprise you feel him tense.

"You okay?" You know it's a stupid question, but you have to ask.

"Yeah, fine." Spencer's tone is clipped, shoulders rigid, back straight. Something is definitely bothering him. You squeeze his shoulders and begin to work at the tightened muscles, slowly easing them to relax. The tension flows out of him as he relaxes back in his desk chair, the frustration ebbing away slightly when his eyes catch your wedding ring. The object that binds you to him.

"Don't shut me out." You whisper, a soft plea in your voice. Spencer's heart wretches when he hears the fear in your tone, and one of his hands comes up to catch yours. He presses a chaste kiss to one of your knuckles before swiveling around to face you. You always find a way to soothe the violent, raging beast inside of him. Spencer's hands find your hips as he turns his gaze up to look at you.

"You're right I'm sorry. Just tense today." He says softly, and while there is a little lie to his words, his statement remains mostly the truth. He just leaves out the part where he pictures enacting varying forms of violence on Luke Alvez. The man who keeps unnecessarily touching his wife. You lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, your head snapping up when Garcia calls from the conference room.

"Got a case folks, and it's an ugly one." Her nose scrunches up into a frown before she turns into the room. You pull away from Spencer, yanking him to his feet by his hand. Luke sends you a playful wink as he trots up the stairs, and while you don't necessarily react to it, it still puts Spencer on edge. Deep down Spencer always knew you were way out of his league, but that never became clearer then when you came to visit him in Prison.

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You were trembling as you lowered yourself into the chair. Dried tears were on your cheeks, and you haven't even seen Spencer yet. The last time you saw him was a few weeks prior after he first got back from Mexico. Seeing his wrists bound in those metal handcuffs had broken your heart in a way you never anticipated. You wrung your hands together, luckily when Penelope had made the visitation Chart she scheduled you as the first person to come see him. The plastic chair was uncomfortable, but what was worse was the plastic guard separating you from Spencer. The clock ticked loudly, it was clearly mocking you. Reminding you of the seconds you were losing with Spencer, reminding you of all the seconds he was spending in Prison.

When you hear the buzzer scream loudly, you nearly come out of your seat you're so excited to see him. You and Spencer got married back in 2005, and you've never been separated from him for longer then a week. It's been over a month now, and each day he's not with you leaves a bigger hole in your chest. You watch him follow the other prisoners out, and the handcuffs around his wrists breaks your heart. His eyes light up the second he sees you, he nearly shoves the other guy over to get to you faster. There are tears in your eyes as Spencer's wrists are released from the cuffs from the guard standing nearby.

"Hey baby." Spencer says softly as he takes his seat across from you. All you want is to reach across the stupid barrier and touch him, hold his hand, anything. But you know the guards will punish him if he does, but being this close to him without being able to hold him is absolutely killing you. You try to blink the tears out of your eyes so that Spencer won't see, but it's all too much. Seeing him in a jumpsuit, with cuff bruises around his wrists, having to sleep in the same building as murderers. The first tear falls and you immediately look away from him.

"Please don't cry." Spencer begs softly. "I'm okay, really."

You wipe your tears before you look back up at him, digging around in your bag for a gift from Henry. You smile when you see the happiness cross onto his face as you pull the piece of paper out.

"Henry drew this for you, it's from when you guys went to the park." You hold it up for him to see and you try to fight another onslaught of tears when you see his eyes misting.

"You know, when I get out of here we should have one." Spencer says it so casually, you almost miss it. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you carefully lower the drawing.

"You want to try for a baby?" You can't hide the smile, and you see Spencer's eyes shine for the first time since he's been in here.

"Yeah, I want to have a baby with you." You and Spencer had a brief conversation about kids a few years ago, and you knew Spencer wasn't ready for it back then. His Father ran out on him and Diana when Spencer was just a kid, it made Spencer insecure about the type of Father he would end up being. In Spencer's mind, a fatherless man would never make a good Father. But it seems he's changed his mind. You had no issues agreeing to wait before you had kids until he was ready, you always knew Spencer would be a fantastic Father.

Suddenly from Spencer's right you hear a low wolf whistle. The tenderness that was on Spencer's face is instantly wiped away. His expression tenses, his jaw clenching as he turns his gaze to a large burly looking man covered in tattoos. The man sitting across from him, the one who was visiting, looked similar. Both of the biker looking men were eyeing me hungrily, it made my skin crawl.

"Something I can help you with?" Spencer asks, his voice tense. The tension in the room grows tenfold, and you fight the instinct to try and scoot closer to Spencer. The Biker looks Spencer in the eyes, a taunting smile on his face.

"That your sister?"

"Wife." Spencer snaps instantly.

"Your wife?" The Biker says incrediously, Spencer raises a brow, daring him to continue. "There's no way a woman with an ass that tight would marry a man as scrawny as you."

You expected to see insecurity flash in Spencer's eyes, instead all you saw was rage. Unbridled, violent rage.

"Choose your next words carefully." Spencer's voice was low, and as sharp as the edge of a blade. You almost didn't recognize him. The Biker leaned forward, fueled only by the knowledge that he was getting under Spencer's skin.

"She as tight as she looks? If I wasn't locked up, I'd fuck her so good she wouldn't even remember what your little pecker feels like."

Spencer's jaw clenches, and his fists curl tightly. The Biker is about 2 words away from a broken nose.

"Baby just let it go." You plead, and normally you don't really use pet names in public but right now you needed to show him that you're his.

"I'll tell you what Klein, I'll fuck her for you and tell you how it felt." The other man says, the man visiting. Upon hearing the words come out of his mouth, Spencer is shoving up from the chair but almost instantly a guard is tightly gripping Spencer's shirt and shoving him back into the chair. Spencer is fuming, and there's nothing you can do to calm him down.

"If you so much as lay a finger on her, your friend here will be dead before you can have another visit." Spencer hisses, and the two large men chuckle.

Spencer instantly took you off the visitors list, and while that felt like a blow to your heart you understood why. You didn't want to stress him out by visiting him.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

So, yeah, Spencer knew you were out of his league and when Luke pulled your chair out for you at the table before he had the chance to, it made his blood boil. Why is Luke trying to take care of you? Doesn't he know that Spencer has been released from Prison? You don't need anybody else to take care of you, your husband is more than capable of doing it himself. When Spencer sat down in the chair next to you, he rested one hand on your thigh. You're only slightly surprised, normally Spencer isn't this 'handsy' in public, but in recent weeks he's been more assertive around other men.

"The body of 23 year old Cassandra Richardson was found 2 weeks ago in Lincoln, Nebraska. Her body was mutilated and showed signs of sexual assault. Yesterday another body, 20 year old Francesca Williams was found around the same warehouse district with similar wounds to the first victim." Penelope rushes the words out, almost as though saying them pains her. Various images show on the screen of the two victims, both bloodied and battered.

"Other than similar injuries, what makes the local police think it's the same unsub?" Luke asks, his eyes flickering towards you for the briefest second. While Spencer was locked away, Luke became a shoulder to cry on. Normally when you were upset and Spencer wasn't around, you'd talk to Derek. But since he's been gone you've felt more isolated then you normally do. Luke had found you crying one morning before you had taken off, and ever since he's had an "older brother" protection over you.

"A tattoo on both of the victims thighs, the words 'temerata virginem' which is Latin for 'desecrated virgin'." With the click of a button on her remote, Penelope pulls up a photo of the tattoos. The lines are shaky, although they stay mostly straight.

"It almost looks professional, except the lines aren't perfectly straight. A professional would make the line work perfect." JJ says, examining the photo closer in the folder each of you received. You turn your gaze to Spencer when you feel his hand leave your thigh to examine the photo closer. You could practically see the gears turning in that beautiful mind of his.

"It's possible an outside source is causing a tremble in the unsubs hands, if he is a professional tattoo artist." Spencer mumbles, almost to himself. Sometimes when he's in deep concentration, he nearly forgets other people are in the room with him.

"Could be drugs-" Luke starts but is sharply cut off.

"Actually it's more likely to be alcohol, withdraw from other drugs would be too severe to operate the tattoo machine." Spencer snaps, causing a few heads to turn and look at him. Maybe under other circumstances someone would say something to him, but since Spencer got released from Prison only a few weeks ago, nobody says anything. Luke's eyebrows furrow together as he shoots Spencer a confused look, one Spencer chooses to ignore as his hand returns to your thigh. Spencer knows he's acting like a jerk but he can't help it, Luke needs to know who you belong to. Spencer had everything taken from him in Prison, he won't let anyone take you from him too.

"We've been personally asked by the local police to assist, so wheels up in 30." Emily concludes, shooting one more look at Spencer before everybody rises.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

The tension on the jet is thick, you're absolutely sure everybody can feel it. Hardly anyone has interacted with Spencer, except to ask him a question about the case. You sit back against the couch, Luke sitting in one of the chairs at the table, and Spencer sitting on the arm of the chair next to you. In your hand was a nearly empty cup of coffee, and just as you move to refill, Luke rises with his own empty cup.

"Need a refill?" He asks, offering you a friendly smile.

"Yeah actually-"

"I got it." Spencer says abruptly, standing from where he was sitting. His eyes meet Luke's, silently challenging him. You try to be understanding, but you can't help but feel annoyed at Spencer. If he was acting like this to some random guy then that's one thing, but this is Luke. He's your friend, he's Spencer's friend. Luke, and the rest of the team, put everything on the line to free Spencer from Prison.

"It's cool man, I can do it-" Luke offers again, but Spencer isn't having it.

"I said I got it." Spencer reaches his hand out for your mug, which you instantly give to him. His eyes don't leave Luke's until he turns around and heads to the back of the jet to refill your coffee. Luke pauses for a few seconds, his eyes meeting yours and mirroring the same look of concern before he heads for the coffee pot as well. Luke isn't even upset by how Spencer is treating him, he- like everyone else, is worried about Spencer's psyche.

"What is going on with Spencer?" JJ whispers once she's sure Spencer is out of earshot. You shrug, your worried eyes landing on your husband. His posture is tense, almost defensive.

"Well can you blame him? In Prison, everything that's yours can and will be stolen by the other male inmates. Now that he's free, Spencer is being protective of his wife, someone that is his and can be taken by other men." Rossi says, always naturally a tad protective of Spencer.

"There isn't a man on this planet that would make me leave Spencer." You say defensively, although you know Rossi didn't mean anything by what he said.

"That might be obvious to you, but not to Spencer." JJ says, eyeing Spencer standing back near the coffee machine.

"Doing okay man?" Luke asks hesitantly as he moves to stand next to Spencer.

"Yep." Spencer says shortly, waiting for the pot to brew. Luke feels the tension rolling off Spencer in waves, and it's all being directed at him and he's not sure why.

"Look, if I've done something to upset you, just talk to me about it Reid." Luke's voice is gentle, understanding. Spencer's jaw clenches again as the pot finishes brewing and he refreshes your cup before reaching for the creamer.

"I'm fine Alvez. Really." Spencer says again, but Luke isn't willing to let this go yet.

"No Reid, you're not-"

"Stop flirting with my wife." Spencer's tone is firm, and the look in his eyes tells Luke just how on edge Spencer is.

"You got it." Luke agrees instantly, even though he was never flirting with you. But he knows that right now arguing with Spencer will only make things worse. Seemingly satisfied with Luke's answer, Spencer carries your cup back you, slinging an arm around you.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Spencer twists his wedding ring around his ring finger, something he does when he's stressed out or tense. You're currently sat in the interrogation room with the male suspect, a tattoo artist attending AA meetings, the tattoo on the first victim was the shakiest because he had just quit drinking. The other, more recent, victims tattoo's were more steady. The longer he stayed sober, the more his trembling faded. In Spencer's other palm is your wedding ring, you fit the physical preference of this killer perfectly, but he only went after single women. Emily thought sending somebody in fitting his victimology would throw him off enough to say something incriminating. In order for the rouse to work, you needed to appear single- meaning the wedding ring had to come off. The thought didn't settle well in Spencer's gut.

"You have to relax." JJ said suddenly from Spencer's right. He nearly ignored her but his frayed nerves were beginning to eat at him.

"I can't. Do you see the way he's looking at her?" Spencer was pacing back and forth in front of the one way glass like a caged animal, unable to take his eyes off of the train wreck happening in front of him.

"She can handle herself Spence." JJ insists gently, almost using a motherly tone to talk to him.

"She's mine!" And suddenly the crux of the issue comes to light, and Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose, releasing a heavy breath. JJ thinks about her words carefully, trying to find something to say that will calm him at least a little.

"Yeah, and nothing is going to change that Spencer. You need to relax, and you have to trust her. You're not in Prison anymore, nobody is going to take her from you." JJ says, looking him in the eyes. Suddenly the sound of metal screeching across a concrete floor sounds from behind Spencer and when he turns around, his blood boils hot in his veins. The suspect, Alan Baker, has shoved out of his chair and has started towards you.

"Spencer-" JJ's voice is distant, and comes too late. Spencer isn't listening to her anymore when his fist curls around the door handle and he nearly rips it off its hinges.

"You need to step back." Spencer snaps, reaching for his gun as Alan Baker backs you into the corner of the interrogation room. You weren't ever truly afraid, you could have handled Alan. Slowly, Alan backs away from you and Spencer instantly reaches for you. He leads you out of the room with a gentle but firm hand on your back. Once you're out of the interrogation room you turn to Spencer.

"What the hell? I could have dealt with him!" You insist, frustration laced in your tone. At this point JJ silently slips out of the room, giving you and Spencer some much needed privacy. Spencer crosses his arms as he leans back against the one way mirror.

"You didn't need to, I did." Spencer huffs and you seriously resist the urge to throw something at him.

"What is your problem today? You could have compromised my entire interrogation, he's never going to tell me anything now!" You snap, anger pinching at your features.

"Good! Now you have no reason to talk to him again." Spencer snaps back, can't you see that he's just protecting what's his?

"Spencer we're trying to save somebody! You're being selfish!" You say to him angrily, trying your best not to start yelling at him. Spencer's selfish possessiveness over you could have just ruined your entire investigation.

"This is why the Bureau was hesitant to reinstate you. They were scared you wouldn't be able to control yourself." You snap at him, crossing your arms.

"Are you saying they made a mistake?" Spencer asks incrediously, suddenly becoming defensive.

"Maybe they did. Because you're acting like an asshole right now. You've been a jerk to Luke the entire day when he busted his ass to help get you out of Prison and back to me! Since when have you not trusted me during an interrogation? What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to let him touch me? I thought you trusted me." You cry out, tears filling your eyes now. Spencer didn't say anything as you turned for the door, anger still laced in his features.

"This has nothing to do with me not trusting you-"

"If you don't trust me, then maybe you should just hold onto my wedding ring for a while. I don't want it." You snap quietly, and you regret the words the second they leave your lips. No matter how mad he makes you, you'd never leave Spencer. You watch Spencer's expression shift from anger to...hurt. He watches silently as you slam the door behind you. Prison has turned him into somebody he isn't, and Spencer doesn't know how to turn off this part of his brain. The part telling him that you belong to him, and that he needs to protect what's his.

Rossi catches the sight of your tear stained cheeks as you move back towards the kitchen in the precinct. You wipe your tears as he comes to stand beside you, and the look on his face tells you that he overheard your fight with Spencer. Rossi bumps you with his elbow gently, a small smile on his face.

"You don't look okay." He says softly and you let out a self-depreciating laugh.

"I'm not. I don't know how to help Spencer, he doesn't trust me." You say sadly, your heart breaking in your chest.

"It's not you he doesn't trust, it's other men." Rossi clarifies, although it does little to ease the pain. You reach up to brush your hair behind your ear when Rossi catches your hand, examining your ring finger.

"Where's your wedding ring?"

"Told Spencer I didn't want it." The words are laced with heavy regret, and when you remember the look on his face when you said it you almost start to cry again. Rossi wraps an arm around you, and you lean your head on his shoulder.

"Deep down, he knows you didn't mean it." He tries to reassure you.

"That's the problem, he probably thinks I meant it."

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Normally it only takes you and Spencer a few hours to smooth things over after a fight. But this time, it's been nearly 3 hours and you haven't spoken a word to each other. You're both working on searching through Alan Baker's financial records without speaking at all. Neither of you have said anything, and Spencer still has your wedding ring. You desperately want it back, but you don't know how to start that conversation. You're angry about how he's been treating everybody, and you feel like asking for your ring is accepting defeat. You're not ready to accept defeat. When Emily comes into the room, her eyes settle on the two of you.

"Okay, what's going on with you guys?" Her arms are crossed.

"Nothing." The word comes from both yours and Spencer's mouths at the same time, and you say it far too quickly. Emily raises one brow at the two of you before closing the door behind her.

"Alright I'm going to have to be a boss now. We are not going to lock this guy away if the two of you are fighting. We need everybody on their A-game. Fix it. Now, and I mean right now." She says, leaving the room but closing the door behind her. There's a suffocating silence that fills the room, both you and Spencer too stubborn to speak first. But you can't take it, you hate it when he's mad at you. You hate it when you guys fight, which isn't often but it does happen occasionally.

"I didn't mean it." You whisper, leaning on the table, facing away from him. Spencer doesn't say anything but you know he's listening.

"I didn't mean it Spencer, I want my ring." He'd be lying if he said he wasn't relieved to hear you say that, his entire world crashed down around him the second you told him to keep the ring. The irrational part of his brain told him you were going to divorce him.

"Can I please have it back?" You ask, barely turning your head to look at him. With a huff Spencer pushes away from the table to move in front of you. His eyes are focused on your hand, he has yet to look at you. Spencer fishes around in his pocket before he finds your ring and gently slides it onto your ring finger.

"You have to stop glaring at any man that gets to close to me, especially Luke." You tell him, but he continues to look away from you. Spencer pushes past you to stand near the windows, his back facing you. The thing about Spencer is that he's stubborn, really stubborn. You take a few steps towards him, nibbling on your lower lip.

"I love you Spencer, I'm sorry. I was an ass, but you acted like an ass too." You tell him, but Spencer only turns his head further away from you. You move to stand in front of him, but his eyes turn to the ground and his arms are crossed tightly. Seriously?

"Please talk to me Spencer, tell me what's going on." You can see the frustration laced in his features, there's something on the tip of his tongue that he needs to say.

"Spencer."

"After you left from your visit, do you know why I didn't let you come back?" Spencer snaps, his hands finding your shoulders to yank your body against his. Your chest collides with his and suddenly you feel a dampness building between your legs. You instantly turn to putty in his hands.

"I didn't let you come back because that asshole told everybody about you. Told everybody what a tight little body you have. Soon the entire cell block was fantasizing about my 'sexy wife'. Do you have any idea what it's like to listen to men constantly talk about fucking your wife?" Spencer's voice is tense, but you can see it. The lust building behind his eyes, the frustration, and the fear of losing you simmering underneath it all.

"N-No." Your voice is breathy, and your eyes are lidded as Spencer's hands slide up your arms to your shoulders.

"It's fucking hell Y/N. Every time I see any man look at you I want to rip his eyes out, and I can't turn it off. I've tried, and the way that Alvez looks at you- it drives me fucking crazy." Spencer snaps, the anger building by the second. Your entire body begins to hum with an intense need, and Spencer can see it in your eyes. Spencer releases you then and he turns for the door, at first you're afraid he's going to leave but instead he locks the door. Luckily it's late, so the police station is more deserted then it is during the day. Turning back to you, Spencer reaches for the blinds next and you can't help but follow his every movement with your eyes.

"Get on your knees." Spencer says suddenly, and you freeze in shock. Did he just say...?

"Get. On. Your. Knees." Spencer says again through clenched teeth, leaning back against the table, heat simmering in his eyes. His hands grip the edge of the table and you feel a throb from between your legs. Quickly you scramble onto your knees in front of him, your hands reaching up to undo his belt. Once the belt is unfastened, you're quickly unbuttoning his dress slacks, your eagerness making your hands a bit clumsy. Spencer has never been this dominant during sex, but you have no complaints. He has your knees weak and he hasn't even touched you. You quickly dip your hand into his boxers to pull his hardening cock out. As soon as his cock is freed, your lips are wrapping around the head. Spencer's head tosses back in ecstasy.

"Your lips look so pretty stretched around my cock. Those bastards could only imagine having you on your knees for them." Spencer snaps, his hand weaving into the hair at the back of your head. You moan softly around him at his crude words, slowly sliding down his cock. Spencer groans when he feels your tongue laving the underside of his cock, along the vein that runs from base to tip. Apparently feeling impatient, Spencer pushes your head further down his cock. He feels his tip right at the entrance of your throat, and with one gentle thrust he breaches your throat and his cock slides all the way into your mouth.

"Fuck," Spencer hisses, and Spencer does not curse often. So the fact that you have been able to draw curses from his mouth is nothing short of a miracle. Spencer's chest heaves slightly as you gag lightly around him, drawing another deep groan from his chest. You feel nearly desperate to please him, you need to make him cum. You want him to fucking pound you, you want him to use your body for his pleasure. You want him to release all of his frustration out on you, you want to be sore when he's done.

"You're mine. This is my body to touch and admire, my tight pussy to stretch open, mine." Spencer growls, thrusting gently to meet your hasty movements. You whimper around his cock, gagging slightly again as spit dribbles down your chin. Your eyes are wide and watery as you look up at him, and the sight of you nearly causes him to blow his load. You just look so fucking beautiful on your knees in front of him, drool on your chin and your mouth full of cock. It's a sight he will never forget. You move your head faster, keeping your eyes locked on his. Spencer squeezes the edge of the table, his head tossing back when his orgasm hits him. You feel his cum shooting in spurts to the back of your throat and you swallow every drop. Once you pull off him, Spencer is grabbing your elbows to pull you to stand.

Spencer's hands are reaching for the button of your dress slacks as his mouth presses messily to yours. Spencer's tongue pushes into your mouth, his hands pushing your pants down and you kick them off. Instantly, Spencer's fingers are sliding into your panties and through your slick folds. You whine loudly against his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as his palm roughly cradles the back of your head.

"Need to make sure you know who you belong to." Spencer snaps as he pulls away from you, quickly pushing two long fingers into your dripping hole. You cry out before Spencer is slapping a hand over your mouth, your back pressed against the wall. Spencer's slender frame is leaning against you, effectively trapping you against the wall and his body. Your eyes are rolling when Spencer's finger crook inside of you while roughly thrusting into you.

"Gotta be quiet, wouldn't want Luke to catch us now would we?" Spencer breathes in the shell of your ear, sending goosebumps spreading over your skin. You are completely at Spencer's mercy and you wouldn't have it any other way. The pleasure shooting through you goes rocketing up your spine when Spencer scissors his fingers inside of you. You're mumbling incoherently against his palm, desperate pleas not to stop, to please let you cum. Your entire body is flushed, and you feel sweat on your skin like a sheen layer over you. Spencer feels you begin to squeeze around his fingers and he replaces his palm with his mouth, swallowing all of your moans and desperate cries.

Your back is arching as your high approaches, and you climb higher and higher to meet it. Spencer never lets up, his fingers steadily pumping into you and his lips muffling all of your cries of pleasure. The sounds you make are music to his ears, they tell him that you will always be his, no matter what childish fears he has. Your hands come up to unbutton the buttons on Spencer's dress shirt, you need to feel more of him. Before you can finish undressing your husband, his fingers nudge your cervix and you instantly clamp around his fingers, your body convulsing.

"You look so beautiful when you cum." Spencer praises, his cock rock hard again. He needs to be inside of you as soon as humanely possible. Spencer pulls away from you to grasp the base of his cock, no need to bother with protection. The two of you already agreed that you want to try for a baby anyway.

"Please baby, please get inside me. How could you think I'd ever leave you? I love you, and nobody could make me cum like you can." You moan desperately, turning to bend over the table. Spencer's hand runs up your spine, enjoying the way you wriggle your hips in search of his cock. There are butterflies squirming in your stomach as you spread your legs apart wider for him, but he still doesn't bring his cock closer to you.

"Oh c'mon Spence don't do this please. Baby, fuck me." You plead, nearly sobbing as you shamlessly beg. He presses his tip against your soaked entrance and you whine. You hear fabric rustling around and you turn your head just in time to see him pull his tie from around his neck.

"I needed to hear you beg for me, and this is to keep you quiet. As much as I love the sounds you make when I'm inside you, I can't let anyone else hear you." Spencer says, his voice low and rumbling from his chest. You open your mouth to let him tie the silk fabric in your mouth. You try to whimper but you gag around the tie in your mouth, and you see a pleased smile cross onto Spencer's face. Your fingers grasp at the edge of the table as you impatiently wait for Spencer to push into you. You feel his glorious cock nestled at your entrance, the tip barely nudging in. You feel another wave of slick gush out of you and Spencer is running his tip through your already drenched folds. Such a tease.

You whine softly, trying to push back against him. Spencer chuckles darkly before his hands grasp your hips to hold you steady. With one firm thrust, Spencer is breaching your folds and sliding deep inside you. You feel heat searing through you, your head dropping to the table as you whimper through the burn. The stretch burns more then you anticipated, and you hear Spencer groaning softly, which sends another wave of liquid heat rushing through you.

"God you feel so good baby, you take my cock so fucking well." Spencer praises, gently pulling out to slowly thrust back in. His eyes are locked on the place where you two connect, watching with hooded eyes as his cock disappears inside you.

"I wish you could see this baby, I love watching you take my cock." He praises through a soft moan, and you drink up every sound he makes. Spencer needed this so bad and you love the fact that you can give him a type of relief nobody else on the planet can give him. Spencer steadily thrusts into you when you both hear footsteps slowly passing outside the room. You expect Spencer to stop, to pull out of you and start redressing but he doesn't. He slows his pace considerably, but he still slowly thrusts into you.

"Shh, I would hate for whoever that is to see my cock buried in your pretty pussy." Spencer whispers as he leans forward to whisper in your ear. You struggle to contain the whimpers, but somehow you remain completely silent as Spencer gently thrusts into you. Once whoever it is passes by, Spencer resumes his quicker thrusts. His pelvis hits your ass with enough force to send you lurching across the table and your fingers scramble to find purchase against the smooth surface.

"This is my pussy, you're my wife, you're mine. Not Luke's, not that dick from the Prison. Mine." Spencer says, punctuating the words with a sharp thrust into you. You wished you could answer him, that you could cry to the heavens that you belong to Spencer Reid- that you never want to belong to anybody else. You settle for squeezing his cock whenever it returns to your velvety warmth, chanting the same word in your head over and over.

Yours yours yours yours yours.

Your forehead presses against the table, muffled and strangled cries escaping your lips every time Spencer hits deep inside you. His cock stretches you perfectly, and always hits places deep inside you. Places you didn't know existed. Soon you feel your orgasm creeping up on you, and you feel lightheaded so you reach up to yank the tie away from your mouth.

"Please make me cum Spence, I'm so close baby please don't stop." You beg, muffling your moans with your palm as he drives his cock into you. You feel sweat covering your entire body and Spencer holds your hips with a bruising force. You feel that coil winding tighter and tighter, and you release a high pitched whine when Spencer's hand snakes around your body to thumb your clit.

"Oh Spencer your cock feels so good, soo good baby. Always feels so good, fuck baby I love you," You're not sure what you're saying at this point, an incoherent mess of praises for the man above you. Spencer loves when he reduces you to this, speaking in a jumble of words and disconnected statements because you can't think with his cock inside you.

"I, shit, I love you-" Spencer gasps, slamming his cock inside you and rolling your clit before you're squeezing around him tightly, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. You cum in hot gushes around him and Spencer can only offer a few more stuttering thrusts before he's cumming with a loud growl, coating your walls in his hot cum. Spencer keeps his cock inside you, ensuring his cum stays inside you. He wants to get you pregnant. His palms gently hold your hips, and all the frustration he's felt all day has completely disappeared. His chest is heaving from the exertion but he feels more relaxed then he has all day. There's a smile on your face and your eyes are closed as your legs finally give out and you collapse against the table.

"You okay?" You hear Spencer's voice, and you can't help but smile when you hear that he's panting slightly. You hum with a smile on your face.

"I'm amazing." You mumble back, feeling Spencer begin to gently massage your back. You love enjoying the afterglow with him, even if you're laying on a table. Slowly Spencer pulls out, but he groans softly when he sees his cum inside your pussy. He reaches to the floor to pull your panties and dress slacks back up your legs and he quickly tucks himself back into his pants. He buttons the 4 buttons you managed to open on his shirt before he's gently pulling you to stand.

"You sure you're alright?" Spencer asks, concern in his eyes. You nod with a smile, but when he releases his hold on your shoulders, you feel your legs tremble and give out underneath you. Spencer immediately catches you and sets you down on the table. You laugh softly.

"Guess you fucked me good."

"Sorry." Spencer says sheepishly, but you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Don't be, that had to have been the best sex we've had in a long time." You mumble against his lips and Spencer hums in agreement. Reaching for his tie, Spencer shoves it in his pocket before he pokes his head out of the room you guys just defiled.

"Spencer, I'm so sorry about what I said. I love you so much, I didn't mean what I said about my ring-" You blubber suddenly, drawing Spencer's attention to you. He cradles your head against his chest, pressing kisses to your forehead.

"I know baby, it's okay. I love you." Spencer answers quietly, holding you to him tightly.

"I'm sorry I was a jerk today. I'm just so protective of you. I can't let anything steal you from me." Spencer admits softly and you cup his cheeks to make him look at you. There is a sadness in his eyes that you want to obliterate, you can't stand it when he's sad. It breaks your heart.

"Nothing could steal me from you. I only want you Spencer." You say quietly and you see tears misting his eyes. He presses his lips desperately against yours, and you feel tears cascading down yours and his cheeks. The kiss is wet, but it's passionate and you throw every ounce of love you have for this man into it. When you and Spencer part, your foreheads are pressed together.

"Hey Spence? How am I gonna get to the hotel. I can't walk." You say softly with a giggle and Spencer smiles mischievously.

"I guess I'll have to carry you." He scoops you bridal style into his arms then and you blush deeply when he carries you out of the room and towards the front entrance.

"Spencer! Everybody is going to know!" You whisper into his ear and he chuckles.

"Good."

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #post prison spencer #jealousy #possessive #criminal minds #smut #spencer reid x you #spencer x reader #jealous smut

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themetaphorgirl · 2 years ago

Note

Prompt- daob Spence hanging out with Alex and James and the rest of the bau at rossi's place. Maybe they were invites for dinner or something like that?

how did you know that this was actually something that's been sitting in my brain for like two years??

I'm very rusty but this makes me so emo and I love baby Spencer Blake and his eight million aunts and uncles.

also it's interesting to see how many Patron Saint characterizations bled into this. I didn't even notice it until I went back and reread it this morning (I wrote this last night on my phone, mostly at work). also someone please ask me about my theories about Alex's aesthetic pipeline because she's my favorite and I love her.

-------

Spencer wasn’t sure what a Paw Patrol was and this point he didn’t want to ask, but he did know that Henry certainly liked it. The younger boy had been watching episodes on loop since he’d arrived, climbing over the furniture with his various toys and shrieking along with the action on TV. Jack was a little quieter but not by much; he was playing his Nintendo sprawled out on the floor and was clearly losing his game, judging by how often he yelped and scoffed and talked to himself as the handheld console beeped and chirped.

Spencer curled up small in the corner of the couch with his book balanced on his knees. When they’d first arrived at Grandpa Dave’s house, it had seemed like a good idea to go play with Henry and Jack in the den that had become the default playroom every time the grownups met for dinner. Now it was too chaotic and he couldn’t focus, but the idea of going to James and Alex stressed him out. What if he interrupted them?

“Hey, boys, who’s hungry?” Uncle Derek said as he stuck his head in the room.

“Me!” Henry yelled happily, throwing his plastic dog as he vaulted off the coffee table. Derek caught him easily.

“Uncle Derek, I can’t beat this level,” Jack complained. “Can you beat it for me?”

“I could try, but you’d be better off asking Aunt Penny when she gets here,” Derek said as he draped Henry over his shoulder, making him shriek with laughter. “Come on, kid. Spencer, you hungry?”

Spencer nodded, setting his book down carefully as he followed behind them. Derek patted him lightly on the back as Jack and Henry talked over each other.

The kitchen in Grandpa Dave’s house was massive and filled with the clatter of attempted cooking and multiple conversations. Dave was busy at the stove and Aunt JJ was setting out plates, and Aunt Emily was attempting to help her as she balanced a glass of wine in one hand. The sliding glass doors were open, late summer heat twining into the air conditioning inside, and he could hear James and Uncle Hotch talking as they worked at the grill.

“I got the kids!” Derek reported cheerfully. He swung Henry around, making him squeal. “Where should I put them?”

Jack draped himself over the arm of a chair. “Where’s my dad?” he asked.

“Outside with Uncle James,” JJ said as she shifted Henry from Derek’s hip to hers. “Dinner will be ready in just a second.”

Emily took a sip of her wine as she dropped a fork onto the table. “When’s Garcia getting here?” she asked.

The doorbell chimed loudly. “That’s her, I’ll get it,” Derek said as he loped away.

Spencer bit his lip and looked around. Emily smiled at him. “Looking for Mom?” she said. “She’ll be right back, she went outside for a second. Don’t worry.”

Right on cue Alex walked in from the back deck, her long summer dress swishing. “If the two of them will stop bickering over grilling techniques, we can eat,” she said. Spencer sidled up to her and tangled his fingers in her skirt; she immediately drew him closer to her side and bent to kiss the top of his head. “Hi, sweetheart. Having fun?”

He didn’t answer her but he leaned against her, some of the tension fading out of him as she rubbed his back. Things always seemed a little less intense when she was there.

Dave frowned as he pulled condiments out of the fridge and set them on the counters. “Listen, as long as nothing is well done, I’m good with whatever they’ve grilled,” he said.

James and Uncle Hotch walked inside from the deck, both of them balancing multiple plates. “That’s something we can agree on at least,” James laughed.

Hotch set down his plates on the counter. “Barbecue sauces, not so much. Jack, buddy, stop hanging off the chair like that.”

“Hi! I’m here! I hope I haven’t missed anything!” Penelope said as she bustled into the room, Derek right behind her. “Sorry, sorry, rehearsal ran a little late.”

Dave kissed her on the cheek. “What show is it this time?” he asked.

“Noises Off. I’m having a wonderful time, but gosh, am I going to be bruised,” she said.

“We’ll have to come see it,” Emily said, nearly spilling her wine as she hugged Penelope with one arm. “Family field trip.”

“Is it going to be as long as the musical?” Spencer asked.

“Hopefully not,” Alex said, barely hiding a smile.

“It wasn’t that long,” Penelope said. She looked Alex up and down. “Oh my god, Alex, you’re adorable. You look like a preppy mom blogger.”

Alex glanced down self consciously. “Is that a good thing?” she said.

“Oh, excellent, you look like you’re spending a weekend at your summer home on Nantucket,” Penelope said. “Classy mom vibes. Beautiful.”

James kissed Alex on the cheek as he walked past her. “She’s always a beauty,” he said.

Henry came running around the corner. “Aunt Penny!” he shrieked.

“Oh! My godbabies!” Penelope exclaimed. Henry ran to her first, flinging his arms around her neck. “You get bigger every time I see you! Stop! Stay little!”

Henry laughed as she hugged him and smooched him loudly on the cheek. “Aunt Penny, my tooth is loose!” Jack said, leaning around Henry as he vied for her attention. He opened his mouth wide and wiggled the offending tooth with his tongue. “See? See?”

“Oh, I do see, that’s disgusting,” Penelope laughed as she hugged him too.

“That’s his second tooth this week, he’s going to put the tooth fairy in bankruptcy at this rate,” Hotch said dryly.

Penelope smiled at Spencer. “Hi, sweetie,” she said. “Would you like a hug too?”

He nodded, slipping away from Alex, and Penelope hugged him tight. “Oh, you’re so precious. Are you getting taller? You seem taller.”

“I don’t think so,” Spencer said. He wrinkled his nose. “Yesterday one of the parents at therapy group asked me when I was turning nine. I had to explain that I’m already nine.”

Alex laughed. “You’ll catch up, I’m sure of it,” she said, smoothing his hair.

“Yeah, keep eating your vegetables and you’ll be as tall and strong as me,” Derek said, playfully flexing.

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Height is mostly determined by genetics, Uncle Derek,” he said. “Eating vegetables wouldn’t cause that much growth. Minimal at best.”

“My mom always said I would have been taller if I’d just eaten vegetables,” JJ said.

“Adults just say stuff like that so children eat vegetables,” Spencer said. He looked up at James. “Right, Dad?”

“Yeah, he’s right,” James said, beaming down at him.

“Ha! I knew it!” Jack said, grinning cheekily at his dad.

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “You’re still eating your vegetables,” he said. “They’re still good for you even if it doesn’t make you taller. Right?”

“Oh, yeah, right,” James said. He pointed a scolding finger playfully at Jack. “Listen to your father, young man.”

“All right, all right, all right, stop squabbling and let’s eat,” Dave said as he set down the last plate of food on the table. “Everybody sit, before it gets cold.”

Spencer hung back as everyone starting taking their seats, but James took him by the hand, walked him up to the table, and guided him to a chair next to Alex. “What do you want to drink, kiddo?” James asked as he sat down at his other side. “Water or something else?”

Spencer shifted around to sit cross legged. “Something else,” he said.

“Lemonade or sweet tea?”

“Lemonade,” he said, and James picked up the pitcher and poured it into his glass.

Dinners at Grandpa Dave’s house were always chaotic as everyone carried on multiple conversations and passed around food. It made him feel better to sit between James and Alex. He knew his parents would take care of him, they would make sure he got enough to eat and they would understand if everything started to feel like too much.

Although they weren’t his parents. He had to keep reminding himself of that. But he almost didn’t mind when he forgot.

His plate ended up overly full, but with just enough space to keep his food from touching. He listened to the grownups talk as he ate, sometimes chiming in. They never minded when he joined in their conversations.

Most of his dinner was delicious, but somehow a pile of grilled mushrooms had ended up in his plate. Spencer poked at it with his fork. He hated mushrooms, they were slick and spongy and left a weird taste in the back of his mouth. But he couldn’t just not eat them, he might make someone upset. He stabbed one with his fork and gritted his teeth.

Alex touched his back lightly. “You don’t have to eat those if you don’t want to,” she whispered. He bit his lip. “Do you want to eat it? No one will be upset if you don’t.” He paused, then shook his head.

Alex caught James’s eye and nodded towards Spencer’s plate. Without dating a word he scooped the offending mushrooms away. “Are you still hungry, Spencer?” he asked as he spooned the mushrooms onto his own plate. “You can have more if you want. Or you can have more later if you’re not hungry now.”

Spencer took a deep breath. Sometimes he had to remind himself that he was going to be able to eat again, that things weren’t how they used to be and he wouldn’t have to go hungry anymore. His therapist talked about it a lot, and so did James and Alex. But it was easier to talk about it than actually remember.

“I think I’m a little bit hungry,” he says in a small voice.

James smiled at him and scooped out a little more grilled corn and roasted potatoes for him. Spencer relaxed.

By the time dinner had wound down he was comfortably full and a little sleepy. “Who wants dessert?” Dave asked.

“Oh, I couldn’t eat anything else if you paid me,” Penelope sighed.

“I don’t know, I think there’s pie. I would live off dessert if I could,,” JJ said. “I’m going to put a movie on for Henry. Jack, Spence, do you want to come?”

Jack immediately slid down from his chair, a half eaten hot dog still in his hand. “Yeah!” he said.

“Finish that first and then you can go play,” Hotch said, half laughing.

Spencer climbed down. He didn’t really want to go, he sort of wanted to just stay with his parents, but if the other boys were leaving he was probably expected to go too. Alex squeezed his arm lightly as he walked away.

He went back to his corner of the couch and his book, and Aunt JJ set up a Disney movie for them. Towards the end of the movie Aunt Emily checked on them and brought them brownies and apple pie and vanilla ice cream, and kept them company for a while before switching to another and going back to the grownups.

Spencer was barely interested in the first movie and even less in the second, and he’d long since finished the books he’d brought with him. Jack was still playing his Switch, much more subdued than earlier, and Henry had fallen asleep on the floor with a toy in one hand and a brownie in the other.

He bit down on the pad of his thumb. Lately he’d been trying even harder to break his thumbsucking habit, but it was tempting, especially when he could feel exhaustion creeping into him. The novelty of going to Grandpa Dave’s had worn off, and he wanted his normal bedtime routine and to sleep in his own bed. He felt like he was wound too tight, tense enough to give himself a headache.

Before he could talk himself out it of he slid down from the couch and slipped out of the room. The kitchen was empty, but the sliding glass doors to the backyard were open. It was dark outside, but the lawn was lit with string lights and he could hear the adults talking.

The grownups were sitting outside on a scattered collection of deck chairs and loungers; most of them were sipping drinks and Grandpa Dave had lit one of his cigars. Spencer crept closer, his bare toes curling at the feel of damp fresh cut grass under him.

His parents were sitting together, Alex with a glass of wine in her hand and James leaning back with his arm around her shoulders. Spencer paused. The grownups were deep in conversation and he didn’t want to interrupt. He inched closer, hoping they would notice him.

“No, I remember reading about that,” Alex was saying, but as she talked she opened her arm to him and he crawled into her lap. “There was a journal published six months ago, I think?” Spencer leaned his head against her shoulder as she cuddled him close. “It brought up some good points about the legitimacy of the previous research.”

He exhaled slowly. Already he felt better, the pressure in his head beginning to lift. Alex patted his hip absently with her free hand as she talked, and James shifted his legs over his lap to make him more comfortable.

The adults’ conversation began to blur in his ears as he snuggled closer to Alex and twined his fingers in the shoulder strap of her dress. He could feel the steady thump of her heartbeat and the softness of her dress, and she smelled like her violet and vanilla perfume and the strawberry scent of her half drunk glass of moscato. He nuzzled his cheek against her shoulder and she kissed the top of his head.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing he knew he was being carried, but not by Alex. He whined through his teeth. “It’s okay, baby, go back to sleep,” James said softly. “It’s okay. Daddy’s got you.”

He blinked sleepily as James lifted him into the car and buckled him in, but he must’ve fallen asleep again, because the next time he opened his eyes he was in his own room. The nightlight was switched on, casting soft gentle shadows on the wall, and Alex was changing him out of his shorts and his tee shirt.

He scrunched up his face. “‘m home?” he mumbled.

“Yes, my darling, we’re home,” Alex said. “Time for bed.”

He was too sleepy to try to sit up and get his pajamas on himself, so he didn’t fight as Alex dressed him and got him settled against the pillows. “Mama?” he said.

Alex smiled as she tucked him in. “What dearest?”

He rubbed his eyes. “Love you.”

Alex kissed his cheek, then his forehead. “I love you too,” she said. “Get some sleep. You’re home and you’re safe.”

She sat down on the edge of his bed, and it didn’t take him very long to fall back asleep as Alex stroked his hair away from his face.

#au: spencer blake #caitlin writes things #spencer reid #alex blake #james blake #aaron hotchner #hotch #jack hotchner #david rossi #emily prentiss #jj jareau #henry lamontagne #please don't ask where will is i just now realized i forgot to write him into this #derek morgan #penelope garcia

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writersblockedx · 3 years ago

Text

Talk to me

Pairing - BAU!reader x Spencer, slight Meave x Spencer Summary - In which an unrequited love becomes all to overwhelming for the reader Warnings - Angst?? Words - 2.9K

PART TWO

The team had always believed you and Spencer were going to get together. Morgan would shoulder pump Reid anytime the boy told him that you were going round to his. Garcia would get all giddy and excitable when listening to you go on about the little things Spencer would do. JJ and Emily would engage in any new update you had to share about the relationship you shared with the shaggy haired boy. But never had either of you made a move.

A fact that would seem to haunt you everyday from now on.

Something the rest of the team had never thought to see was Spencer holding that same smirky smile that he'd show whenever he was laughing with you, painted on his face as he looked down at his phone. The boy was sat at his desk, ignoring the growing pile of case files that sat only inches from him. Derek stared at Spencer from afar, glancing to you as your pen flew across serval paper files. It was as if the two of you had switched. But the more fascinating part to Derek was that Reid wasn't smiling at some secret message you had just sent, no, Spencer was talking to someone else.

The team, including yourself, would soon know that someone else to be Meave. A pretty brunette with the kindest of demeanours. She was intelligent, could recite literature just as Spencer could and her laugh seemed to echo through a whole room if she really wanted it to. You used to believe that no one could match Spencer's mind. That was until you met Meave.

Spencer had organised for the whole team to meet her at some over expensive restaurant. And, for the first time, you hadn't taken the seat next to Spencer. Instead, you were crammed into a corner between Garcia and Emily, unable to put much into the conversation. After that night, everything felt faulted. As a result, you and Spencer grew apart until you could barely even say he was your friend.

As the months went by and you could barely get through the day without hearing Spencer ramble about some new pretty thing Meave had done, or overhear a comment from Morgan about what Meave moving in meant for Spencer lack of experience. It seemed as if you couldn't go to work without the looming fact that you hadn't acted on your pining feelings.

Even when you returned home, photos stared back at you. Photos from years ago now. You and Spencer. You, Spencer and the rest of the team. You and Spencer at JJ's wedding. You, Spencer and JJ with Henry. They were all just dotted around your apartment. A few months ago, you would have looked at them in awe. Now, as you stared at the one that sat at your bedside, you and Spencer sharing a delicate cake in some quaint café, it seemed to bring you nothing but dread.

You knew at that point when you found yourself - for what seemed like night after night - starring up at your ceiling with nothing but regret, you couldn't do it any longer. You couldn't sit across from Spencer's desk every morning watching his phone ping, knowing who it was from, or listen to Morgan and Garcia tease him like they used to do to both you and him. It wasn't the same and it was haunting you.

Morning you took in account all the factors which surrounded the situation. One thing you knew for sure, you couldn't work at that desk anymore. Whether Spencer found out the reason for that, you weren't sure yet. Whether he found out through assumption or through a simple message you were debating on sending, you didn't know that either. But as you walked into the BAU that morning, you didn't even drop your bags by your desk. Instead, you went straight into Hotch's office.

You knocked lightly at the wooden door before making your entrance. He sat writing at some file, barely looking up until he knew he had to. "Y/l/n, hi, everything alright?" He questioned as you walked through, shutting the door behind you.

You nodded at that, "I've just been thinking for a while." That prompted the man to look back up at you, brows furrowed as he waited. "I think I might want a transfer." You finally spat out. Up until then, it hadn't seemed real, just thoughts you'd toss around in your head at night.

Hotch stopped completely at that. "You want to leave the BAU?" He questioned.

"I was thinking maybe looking at the international unit. I'm still young, should probably put some miles on my soul until I spent the rest of my life behind a desk." You practically shrugged, pointless nonsense to mask the real reason as for your request to transfer.

"I can offer you some vaccation time. God knows you deserve it after all these years." Hotch half joked in an attempt to convince you other wise. "Unless, travel isn't your only reason for this request."

Hotch knew, of course he did. All the team probably knew. They were profilers and even as a profiler yourself, you couldn't hide all that emotion that littered your heart. "There's a few reason's here and there." You excused, glancing out Hotch's office window to where Spencer sat sipping at his morning coffee.

"I'll make a call." Hotch said, urging you to look back at the man.

"Thanks." You nodded. "And, in the mean time?" You queried as if to ask if you were meant to return back to your desk like this conversation had never happened.

He forced a smile out, "Take that vacation time."

So you did. You slipped out from the BAU without any questions or fuss. You spent a much needed rest a home for around a week, waiting around your phone for a call from Hotch. Until finally, it came through.

Hotch Your transfer has been accepted.

And just like that, in a matter of a moment, the BAU was a thing of the past. Your mind conjured up ideas as to what the future held and, for what seemed like the first time, you didn't feel so much regret.

Back at the BAU, however, they were all sat around the table in the conference room. But not for a case. No, Hotch had called everyone into the room to tell them some news. They all threw out possible guesses as to what this 'news' happened to intail, but the straight forward answer was that it was you. They couldn't quite work out what had happened with you, but the team hadn't seen you take any vacation time since you first joined. Not to mention, you hadn't said much to anyone about your leave. There was a message here and there. But all words avoiding the big question.

The second Hotch's foot came through the doorway, everything fell silent. They stared at him until he took his seat and they waited. Well, most of them waited. Garcia couldn't hold it in for much longer. "She's okay right?" The girl rushed as she glared at Hotch. "Tell me she's okay."

Hotch half laughed at Garcia's sudden concern. "Y/n is perfectly well." He stated.

"But?" Garcia added, knowing that perfectly well meant there had to be something else.

Hotch swallowed, taking the time to glance at each agent. "But, she's going to be leaving us here at the BAU."

The team seemed to fall still, as if their minds were trying to wrap around this. Not one of them had expected this. They knew how much you adored your job, how you would bring coffee to everyone once a week in hopes to raise morale. Just the idea of you leaving seemed wrong, like it was out of place.

JJ was the first to speak, "What? Why?"

It was a simple question which, honestly, wasn't one that Hotch could fully answer himself. "She's going to be transferring to the international unit." He informed.

"But I thought she loved it here?" Garcia spoke, ever so innocently.

Morgan was about to respond to Garcia's words, before a thud was heard was the side of him. Spencer hadn't said anything the entire time. He hadn't indulged in guessing as to why you had taken time off. He hadn't asked the questioned as to why. He had barely been able to look Hotch in the eye. And with Garcia's words, it seemed to break him enough in that he stormed out from his chair and away from the team.

"Spencer!" JJ had yelled but he was already out the doorway.

Hotch waved his hand as if to tell the rest of the team to stay put. "Just- leave him for a bit."

With that, they all sank back in their seats, watching from the window of the conference room. The boy gathered his coat from his desk chair and rushed out from the BAU completely. None of them said a word. They just sat and stared at the shadow which was your desk.

Spencer's mind was a mess, his body littered in an emotion he could only pin point as guilt. He couldn't help but blame himself for your choice. All the team had noticed the shift between the two of you. Spencer had stopped picking you up every morning so you could get breakfast together, you stopped falling asleep on his shoulder on the way back from cases. If someone were to look at you now, they'd call you colleagues. A year ago, they would have sworn for you two to be a happy couple or pining friends waiting for the right moment. It was if, in a blink of an eye, everything was wiped away.

And Spencer couldn't help but blame himself for that.

So, he went to a place he had once felt safest. A place in which he hadn't been for a while now. Stood outside the second story apartment, taking a breath for himself, he didn't know what he was going to say. He didn't know whether he should even be here. But he didn't really want to turn around. There seemed to be as many thoughts in Spencer's head as there were yours. They swirled and tormented him enough that his chest felt heavy and his throat itched for words.

Still, his knuckles knocked against the wood and he waited patiently. As the door swung open and you stood there in a t-shirt and jeans, your half-messy apartment décor on show behind you, Spencer swore he felt the same nerve hit his gut as he did a year ago. He could barely get his words out. The sense of being at your home again after so long had his thoughts mixed and he found himself caught off guard.

"What are you doing here?" You words came off harsh, biting through the clouded air. Just like that, Spencer got a firm reminder as to where you and him stood.

Spencer swallowed the lump that had grown in his throat. "Hotch told us, said you're transferring." You didn't say anything in return, you crossed your arms and waited for what else Spencer had to say. "Why?"

You could have laugh had it not been a very strange yet familiar environment. "You've got a big brain, Reid, I'm sure you can work than one out yourself." With that, your hand gripped the door and you went to shut it.

Before Spencer had even realised it, his hand stopped the wood and caught both of you off guard. "Don't shut me out." He almost commanded. "Talk to me." The words were soft but came as an almost demand as the two of you stared back at one another. Reluctantly, you took a few steps back and opened the door enough for Spencer to slip inside.

The shaggy haired boy looked around your apartment, eyes dotting around the décor that seemed so familiar to him yet so distant. His pupils adjusted to the slight changes in the room, the way the whole apartment seemed messier, books left open to different pages around the living room, jackets and hoodies thrown to corners and left to lay for however long.

"Do you want something to drink?" You questioned, breaking the silence that lingered over the two of you.

Spencer's eyes shot back at you as he nodded lightly. "Erm, yeah, sure." With that, you escaped to the kitchen, Spencer staying back to give distance.

Distance of which seemed to relax you. The second you left the living room, it was as if your breath became even again, your chest loosened and your shoulders fell. No longer were your thoughts scrambled and your eyes trained to avoid eye contact at every turn. It was as if a string connected you to Spencer, anytime you got too close, your body froze like it didn't know how to act in front of him anymore.

Spencer wondered only meters around your living room. He found himself awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, having no idea what to do with himself anymore. He didn't see it his place anymore to snuggle into your sofa or to lean against the wall in which photos hung of him and the rest of the team. So, the boy took his place on one of the few steps which led up to your bedroom as he awaited your pattering footsteps.

"Here," You spoke as you held two steaming mugs in hand.

Spencer took the one closest to him and looked away almost instantly in an escape to avoid anymore unwanted eye contact. Though, with drink in Spencer's hand, you were now the one stood awkwardly. You swallowed the lump that had once more grown in your throat and swore that the tension in the air was becoming suffocating.

You glanced around for a moment, before biting the tension and sitting in the empty space next to Spencer. The two of you sat in silence. The crisp breeze that tapped against the window being the only thing to sound the silence which covered you both. You both looked straight ahead where nothing but a blank wall stared back at you. There were too many words that floated around your mind, ones of which you couldn't quite pin point and didn't dare speak.

Without even looking, you finally spoke. "What is it you want me to say?" You questioned, glaring down at your mug.

"Why you're leaving. The real reason, because I know it's not because you want to transfer to another unit." Spencer wanted to hear it. He was doubtful in assuming the whole reason was him.

You'd almost scoffed at the boy, glancing for a second, not realising his eyes were already on you, analysing your expression like he did every day. "Spencer you know why. Things-" You paused, debating on choice of words as you stared back down at your mug, not daring to say anything and to leave things as they were. "Things aren't the same as they were before."

The boy swallowed, following your actions in looking down at his drink. "You mean before Meave."

There was a long pause in which you both settled in the tension. The words you'd flicked through your mind night after night slowing beginning to untie one by one. "She is an extortionary girl, Reid. You're happy. She's happy. Everyone's happy."

"Expect you."

You smiled a weak smile in return, the two of you connecting with eye contact, your pupils watery as you stared back at Spencer. "I'm happy for you, Spencer."

"Then why are you leaving?" He asked with desperate eyes.

You'd argued with yourself over what to say next, whether there was still this line that you couldn't cross when it came to you and Spencer. But with the transfer already accepted, you weren't going to get given another chance to say what you'd always longed to say. "Because I can't sit across from you everyday, knowing that-" You stopped, the words almost choked up in your throat as you fought to say them aloud. "Knowing that I love you." You stopped then and there, waiting to catch a response from Spencer. You couldn't place your finger tip on it, but the boy seemed caught, confused. It was as if your words had just scrambled his mind and for once, he couldn't string his words together. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"I love you too." His eyes shot to yours, begging to be seen.

"Not like you love her." You responded, harshly, your voice cutting through the tension that suffocated the air of your apartment. "You've moved on Spencer. And I have been trying to do the same thing, but I can't do it sat across from your desk every day."

The boy huffed, "When will I see you again?" He was desperate at that point. Spencer had jumped from angry to guilt to utter sadness. Now he only wanted assurance in that this wasn't the end.

"I don't know if you ever will."

#spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid imagine #bau #bau x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

Text

She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder.

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames.

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor. From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this?

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin.

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

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Cowboy Like Me | Chapter One: Tennis Court

Summary: Aaron Hotchner ends up in Georgia when he goes into witness protection with his son. Staying in the guest house behind a bed and breakfast in a town no one has ever heard of, run by the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

Chapter Warnings: character backstories, narrative pov, weddings, town gossip, canon hotch trauma + mentions of past parental abuse

Word count: 4.1k

Masterlist

Our story starts in the middle, not only does it save me time as the narrator, but it also helps you guys avoid 2 months of eye-rolling-ly obvious idiots in love. But to catch you up, she ignored him, he was overly sweet, her father meddled and Jack, Aaron's son, loved to help.

With his rubber boots on, he followed Edison through the mud towards the broken gate at the back of the field, they had planned on fixing it that afternoon when he got off the school bus, but then Jack didn’t end up going.

You see, Jack hasn’t had the easiest time adjusting to the new life they were living. The kids at school didn’t like his new name, he felt like an outsider showing up 2 months into the school year, not knowing what was going on in his classes by day and at night he kept having recovered memories about the last time he was in witsec.

It was breaking Aaron's heart to watch, but the Y/L/Ns knew how to fix any and all forms of sad people.

Be it Grandpa Ed’s big bear hugs and long understanding chats, or the late-night painting sessions with Y/N when he couldn’t sleep (or woke up crying like he did last night), they both helped him tremendously. So that morning, Aaron watched Jack get all ready to follow Ed out to the farm and have a day with someone with who he connected to truly make himself feel better.

Aaron, on the other hand, got ready for the Ladies Luncheon that day. Wearing his best jeans and nicest plaid shirt, he smiled as soon as he walked into the kitchen. The smell of fresh croissants wafted his way before the chaotic sounds of dishes being done directed his attention to where he was needed.

“I got it,” he took over from Anne, her official title was Sous Chef but that translated to everything the Head Chef couldn’t do right that second.

“Thanks, Daren,” she used his new fake name, the only one she’s ever known for him.

“Oh thank God,” Y/N came bursting through the saloon doors, “I can’t deal with the Mayor and her friends alone today, the wedding is this weekend.”

“Oh shit,” Aaron remembers as well. “Let me finish set of dishes and I’ll be right out.”

“Thank you,” she sighs, rushing back out the door and into the main room.

“Oooo,” Gus, the head chef teases with his southern, “she’s bein’ nice to you today?”

“She is,” he can’t wipe the smile off his face. “We’ve come to an agreement, I just have to figure out how to tell my son…”

“About?” Gus pesters.

“We planned to only stay here till I got back on my feet,” he sticks to their cover. “But I think it’ll be better for all of us if we stayed here, and that’s all she wanted.”

“I knew it,” Anne points at Gus, “you owe me today's tips.”

“Not fair!” He chimes back. “Today's the Luncheon, they’re all loaded you can’t have them all today!”

“You were betting on us?” Aaron can’t believe it. This is something Emily and Derek would do back home, making him miss them more than he usually does.

He kinda just melts away into his thoughts after that, wondering how they’re all doing and wishing he could check-in. They just missed Hank’s first birthday, Henry turned 10, Emily turned 50 and Spencer 38… he missed Penelope’s antics and Luke trying to always make her smile. Tara’s comeback and Daves sarcasm. It wasn’t fair, but his life never was.

He goes from sombre to autopilot as the ladies arrive. Taking each of their coats and helping them to their seats. Y/N takes their orders and leaves Aaron to talk with them all.

Three ladies in total.

Rebekah is the Mayor, in her early 60’s still living on her first dead husband's money and letting her daughter burn through everything else. Loretta is another wealthy lady in town, she joins each week for the gossip but claims she's representing the HOA. While Henrietta is very open about the fact she’s just there to bitch about the week with the two ladies who can do something about it for her.

“From Farm to table, and the farms only about 10 feet from the table so you know it’s good,” Aaron teases as he places another two plates down at the table, making the ladies laugh like he did every Thursday.

“Thank you, hon,” Henrietta places her hand on his arm, looking up at him sweetly, “could you do me a favour?”

“Anything.”

“Would you mind askin’ Y/N if she needs any extra help for the weddin' this weekend? Elizabeth is my granddaughter, and ya see she didn’t want me helpin’ with the plannin’ cause she thinks I’m too pushy, well, I still want to help set up if I can, and I’d take any job you have as long as I can help for my little girls big day,” she lays on the sweetness to get her way.

“I can ask, I’m sure if you just show up around back any time I can find something for you to do?” Aaron offers, “I’m setting up the tent with the boys later tonight, if you’d like to help set out chairs and tables, you’re more than welcome to join.”

“Oh bless you,” she takes his hand with both of hers, shaking it with gratitude as she smiles up at him. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Is there anything else you ladies need before I head back to the kitchen?” He’s as kind as possible, knowing they tip Y/N extra well when he’s there.

“No, we’re okay,” they all manage to say at the same time, laughing right after and carrying on with the conversation, giving him a chance to slip away without anyone else asking him for things.

He slips into the kitchen to find Gus and Anne working away for the dinner shift, but Y/N’s nowhere to be seen. So he keeps walking, he heads out the back door and looks out at the fields where he knows he’ll find her. With a cup of tea in hand, she stands there in her big sweater and watches the world go by from her spot on the hill. Peaceful, content, beautiful.

“Hey,” he walks up to her cautiously, “Henrietta wants to come help set up for the wedding this weekend.”

“Of course she does,” she sighs. “Betty called me and said she’d probably ask.”

“Apparently Betty told her she’s pushy and wouldn’t let her help with the planning,” Aaron gossips, it was astounding how being in a small town brought that out of him.

She nods, “yep. But it’s also because Henrietta doesn’t like James, ever since he disappeared that one summer with Augusta… she doesn’t trust him. I wouldn’t either, but betty’s a strong woman, I know she wouldn’t let him get away with that again.”

“Oh shit,” Aaron didn’t know all that. “When did that happen?”

“When they were in high school, they had a very dramatic graduating class,” she laughs. “My group of friends didn’t go crazy till later on after we graduated.”

“Why do I feel like you know every secret in this town?”

“Well, when you own the only place in town that offers alcohol all day long, people tell you things,” she laughs it off, “but yeah, I know some things that could ruin this town.”

“How do you manage to keep all these secrets?” He whispers. “Like me… how are you able to call me Aaron in private and keep up the lie when I’m at work?”

“Daren isn’t that far off,” she smiles up at him. “And secret-keeping is easy if you have nothing to get out of them. They’re like ammunition in this town and I have no one to take out.”

“You’d be good in politics,” he teases.

She lays her hand on his arm as she laughs, leaning into his space and lightening right up to him. She used to be so closed off he never imagined they’d get here, it only took 2 months, but the wait was worth it.

From the moment he met her, he knew she was special. He showed up at her house at 4 in the morning with a scared 11-year-old and she knew exactly what to do. She had Jack's room all ready the next day with everything he needed for the school year, colouring supplied because Aaron said he loves to draw and open arms when he wanted support from someone other than his father.

For the first few days Jack barely looked at him, he was completely silent and it worried Aaron, but not Y/N.

He was in the barn, preparing the bottles for the goats when she walked up and startled him. “Sorry- I just need to ask something?”

He had a hand on his chest, heart beating hard inside as he caught his breath, “the barns so quiet, it’s not your fault. What’s up?”

“I’m hosting a painting party later tonight for the ladies, I was wondering if it’s okay if Jack joins? We’re following a Bob Ross episode, I think he’ll like it,” she adds with a smile.

“Sure,” Aaron smiles, “as long as you can get him out of his room, I’m fine with it.”

She lightly laughs, “he’ll be okay, you know that, right?”

He sighs, “I’m really hoping so.”

“I was his age when my mom died, my whole world changed at 11 too, it sucked for a while but as soon as I found my thing, everything got better,” she tries to cheer him up.

“You’re too nice,” he smiles at her.

She backs up then, smiling awkwardly back at him, “uh, yeah, that’s all wanted to ask. Thank you, I’ll bring him home around 9.”

“okay—“

That was just the beginning of her running away from him.

Like a mouse in the barn hiding from one of the cats, he knew that eventually one of them would give in to the other, it just took forever. He laid on the sweetness from there, complimenting her in the mornings, staying late to help her with the deliveries, organizing the shop for her so she could see the floor for the first time in years… he did everything in his power just to get her to talk to him, to possibly crack the shell she grew around her heart to keep it safe.

It finally worked.

“Are you excited for this weekend?” He asks, “I haven’t seen you put on a wedding here yet.”

“Excited, no,” she laughs, hand sliding down his arm and taking his hand in hers instead as she leads them back to the Inn. “Stressed out is better, these things can go wrong so quickly.”

“You’re holding my hand,” he bumps her shoulder as he tries to hold in a smile.

“It’s slippery out here,” she lies, nudging him back. “Wouldn’t want you to fall and break a hip, old fart.”

“You’re too darn cute,” he says just quiet enough for her to scoff at him.

“Your crush on me is what’s cute, I could hit you with a car and you’d be like wow she’s hot,” she teases him again.

The more she tried to bug him, the harder he fell for her. It’s been the case all along, when she couldn’t avoid him, she took the 8-year-old boy tactic of bullying him slightly. It was amusing to him, which just made her angrier.

“Stop being cute and I won’t act like this,” he combats as they approach the kitchen once more. “After you, boss lady.”

“Thank you, Daren,” she uses his fake name when they’re around people, it’s just close enough to his own name that his ears could get used to the change and it didn’t stand out. And he liked it.

Being Daren Colt the farmhand was like being back in high school, acting in the play and trying to get the pretty girl to talk to him. Sometimes life came full circle, sometimes old lessons have a way of becoming relevant in life again, and this time he decided he was going to do it right.

He was done being the adventurous hotshot FBI agent, willing to do whatever it took to help people… he’s helped so many people to try and make himself feel better but in the end, he's ended up hurting those closest to him.

Like Jess, she’s not in Georgia but she’s also in witsec, he can’t talk to her but he doesn’t imagine she wants to talk to him ever again. Not after being uprooted and sent away with her sick elderly father, sure it would save her life, but it would so fucking inconvenient that he’d hate himself for it too.

Jack, on the other hand, was coming around to it. He found a group of friends at his new school that he fits in with, he paints with Y/N on Sunday mornings and helps her with the breakfast shift after, he has responsibilities and he likes being with his dad almost all day every day. In a strange way, they both see this turn of events as a blessing.

Aarons falling in love with the woman Jack’s starting to love like a mother, he depends on Y/N in ways Aaron can’t compare with. She’s soft, she understands the pain of losing a mother and in turn losing a part of herself, she knows how it feels to hold in the emotions and what it does to someone who holds it for too long. Through art, they’ve processed their feelings, and from what Jack’s allowed Aaron to see, he’s doing just fine.

They both were.

—

She takes a deep breath when she hears Betty finally say “I do,” leaning in to kiss her new husband as the room erupts in cheers and the earth trembles as they jump to their feet.

It’s finally over.

She didn’t need to worry about anything else, the dinner was a potluck, the alcohol was on standby, the dance floor was waiting and she couldn’t wait to just sit down.

3 days of hard work paid off when she saw the girl she used to babysit walk down the aisle with the love of her life. She made it through the family drama, the guest issues, her grandmother… but it all worked out. James was a good man, he’s grown a lot, no matter what the gossip currently was.

Everyone complimented her on a lovely venue, asking how she managed to make every wedding so spectacular and personal at the same time, and it was simple. She listened. She took into account the people and their essence and made the day reflect the love they share. Today represented the start of forever, with one simple kiss they sparked the beginning of a new story that was to be passed along through generations as long as her lineage stayed in Evermory.

She sat down with a glass of wine and watched the toasts, the drunken stories about how their love came to be from everyone that witnessed it. The will they won’t they story that rocked the whole town that fateful summer. The funniest part was seeing August and Betty laughing it off together, with August even being one of her bridesmaids.

Everyone in town was there, in person and in spirit.

She knows her mom would have loved this, after all, this was always her dream. She knew the property had promise, she had drawings and concepts of a bed and breakfast all throughout Y/N’s childhood, if she focused hard enough she could even still hear her mother's sweet voice explaining it all to her.

Knowing she’d love the life Y/N lived made her more content than anything else could. Which was something she also had to remind herself of every time an old lady asked her when she’d be the one walking down the aisle.

“That Daren who works for you is mighty handsome,” Henrietta nudges her with her elbow, looking at her like she knows things Y/N hasn’t even admitted aloud yet.

“That he is,” she doesn’t disagree. “But I’m happy single, you should know that by now, I’m not the marrying type.”

“Oh come on,” she’s not having it at all. “I remember when you were little, your mama brought you to the luncheon and you somehow got into the linen closet and came out in a homemade weddin’ dress claiming you’d be gettin’ married as soon as you could. Where’s that little girl?”

“The love of her life died,” she snaps back, tired of being nice. “It’s not something I can just bounce back from, no matter how much time passes, you should know what that feels like.”

“I’m sorry,” she takes her hand and softly rubs it. Her wrinkled hand is velvety smooth as she stares up at her knowingly. “You’re so young sometimes I forget you’ve experienced so much heartbreak.”

“I’ll tell you this,” she smiles instead of dwelling on the past, “I think Daren is trying to court me, he’s just as cautious as I am he’s just a little more open with his attraction.”

“I knew it!” She squeezes her hand, “oh you two are so cute together.”

“Thanks,” she can’t help but get bashful. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go find him, he shouldn’t be working when we have a party to put on.”

“Yes, go on,” Henrietta cheers her on as she watches her leave.

She leaves the tent, past the garden and towards the barn. She holds her dress up from the mud, letting her cowboy boots take the mess they were made for. “Daren?” She calls, “are you out here?”

No response. She continues on past the gates, hearing the jingle of a cowbell as her main milking cow trots around to see her. She comes right up to her, getting a nice scratch on the head before nuzzling her arm. “Hey there miss marble, have you seen Daren?”

“Who’s askin’?” He teases as he follows around the same corner, “oh, it’s my favourite person.”

“Hi,” she lights right up. “Why aren’t you at the party?”

“Do you want me there?”

She nods, “of course.”

“Give me 10 minutes to get ready and I’ll join you,” he wipes his hands n his overalls. “Here, let me help you get out of here,” he reaches for the hem of her dress and holds it up from the mud, “after you.”

“Why thank you,” she begins to walk out, it felt nice to let him be so generous. Instead of pushing him away, she welcomed his kindness, it was a nice change.

“You look beautiful by the way, I’m not sure if I’ve told you yet today,” he adds, following her with a big smile on his face.

“You have, but thank you,” she feels the heat rising in her cheeks as she tries to hold in a smile. “I’ve never really seen you all dressed up before, you know.”

“You’ll see it again on Monday night,” he teases as he drops the train of her dress now that they’re out of the mudded area.

“I’m actually pretty excited,” she turns to him with a smile, “I’m still sorry it took so long for me to just talk to you and get over myself.”

“It’s more than okay,” brushes it off. “You had every right to be skeptical.”

They stopped at the guest house, “well, I guess I’ll see you out there?”

“You will,” he nods, gently laying his hand on her shoulder as he passes her and heads into the house.

He didn’t linger, she wished he did because the next time she saw him was hours later.

—

He’s sat at the bar, beer in hand as he watches the bride and groom dance around the empty dance floor. He doesn’t know them well, he only knows them through Y/N’s stories from high school. Her graduating class was a wild one, with cheating and parties, rich people, murders and a now-famous actress.

Jack's dancing with the kids around his age, the older crowd has gone home and it’s just a few stragglers left on the old tennis court turned wedding venue. It was astounding how 1 white tent was able to change the whole scenery that he’s come to know and love so much.

From the corner of his eye, he catches Y/N in the yard waving off the mayor and her daughter as they head out for the night. It’s his chance to steal her away next and so he takes it.

Walking right out to her, “come dance with me?”

She laughs, “oh I don’t know about that, it seems pretty dangerous for me to dance with you.”

“Why’s that?” He takes her hand in his, leading her to the side gate where the music still reaches but they can be alone.

“We still haven’t had a date,” she reminds him as she follows. “I thought you’d be more old-time-y and romantic than this.”

“Dancing in the dark surrounded by roses, that’s pretty romantic,” he laughs as he pulls her in close, hand on her waist and the other lifted in position.

She follows her lead automatically, with a wild smile and glossy eyes. “You are something else, Aaron.”

She scoffed but he knows it’s from a place of love. It’s one he’s heard before, from 2 different voices that loved him before her. It was something he used to identify when he had his hooks in someone. When they rolled their eyes, looked away real quick and cleared their throat before turning back to him, that’s when he knew he had them.

“Can I ask you something?” He swiftly changes the topic, lost in her eyes and the thought of her liking him, he knew almost nothing about her.

She nods, “shoot.”

“Why did you decide to turn your childhood home into a bed and breakfast?”

She sighed, “well, my mom had some money and when she got sick she put it all in my name and told me when I turned 18 I could access it and live my life to the fullest and make her proud… I remember how much she loved having the ladies over for lunch on Thursday, all the moms in town took me in after she passed and made sure I was taken care of from a feminine side of things,” she got into the nitty-gritty details with him like it was nothing new.

Only Aaron has no idea she’s never told anyone this.

“So I went to school to study hospitality for a few years, I asked the mayor for a personal loan that would in return boost the local economy and I created a space where I can take care of the town that raised me,” she lets go of his hand to wipe a tear.

Instead of taking his hand again, she pulls him in tighter, with her arms around him in a tight bear hug she rests her cheek on his chest, “that’s a fact just for you, don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Keeping a secret for you is the least I can do—

“You’re a poet,” she manages to laugh with a sniffle.

He laughs too, “what was her name?”

“My mom?” She clarifies, waiting for his hum to know she’s on the right track. “Marjorie… what’s yours?”

“Her name was Candace,” he’s solemn. “she was an interesting woman.”

“Your dad?”

He shakes his head, “rather not.”

“sorry…”

“Don’t, it’s okay, really. I just don’t want to taint these memories,” he presses his lips together awkwardly. “My father was a terrible man, nothing like your father, it’s no wonder Jack’s so drawn to him.”

“He’s the best,” she agrees. “I’m glad he got your case.”

“Me too,” he can’t believe his ears.

“Also,” she hesitates, “I never really thanked you when I did all my apologizing.”

“For what?”

“Making me laugh so much,” she’s brutally honest. “I don’t have many good friends, I may know everyone in town but I’ve never had someone like you in my life.”

“That’s a damn shame,” he lowers his voice as he looks deep into her eyes. Hands trail from her hips, over her arms as they erupt in goosebumps and finally, one hand cups her cheek. His thumb caresses her cheek as she leans into it, “but then again, I’m glad that you’re all mine now.”

“Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head playfully, “not so fast. You still have more wooing to do.”

“I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve,” he teases her back.

“We’ll see about that, cowboy.”

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hext00ns · 2 years ago

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Psychic Who Cried Sick {@sicktember}

AO3 l!nk in comments

Ships: Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer, Burton "Gus" Guster & Shawn Spencer, Carlton Lassiter & Shawn Spencer, Juliet O'Hara & Shawn Spencer

Rating: T

Warnings: Poisoning, Attempted Murder

Description: Shawn takes a case that no one believes in. He has to wonder if they’ll believe him if he winds up dead.

{Sicktember 2022 Day 7: A Cry For Attention}

-- Santa Barbara, 1985 --

Young hands grabbed at the discarded mail as discreetly as he could. His eyes scanned over one of the letters taking in all the information he needed. He ran back to the kitchen, keeping an eye out for his father all the while. He reached for the scissors to use as a makeshift letter opener and started on the seal.

“Shawn!”

The voice startled him. He shoved the scissors back into their place and the letter behind his back. He spun on his heels to look up at his father. “Yeah dad?”

Henry fully came into the kitchen and looked down at the child with a disapproving eye. “What do you have behind your back?”

“Nothing,” Shawn tried to mumble, knowing full well he’d already been caught.

“Hand it over, now.” Henry opened his palm out to his son.

Shawn sighed and gave the envelope up.

“Why the hell were you trying to open this? This isn’t even addressed to you.”

“You were just gonna throw it away!” Shawn retorted.

“So? That doesn’t mean you can just open someone else’s mail. That’s illegal, Shawn. Not to mention potentially dangerous. You don't know what could be in one of these. Curiosity killed the cat, kid.”

“Yeah, but satisfaction brought him back.”

Henry frowned. “Don’t be a smart ass. That’s not how the real world works. Why do you want this junk mail anyways?”

“It’s a credit card offer,” Shawn stated. “I wanted to pull the glue off the cards.”

-- Santa Barbara, Present Day --

Trying to convince a building full of officers that your client was being targeted while having next to no evidence was kinda impossible. Shawn knew that. He knew this was not going to be an easy task. He also knew that ‘impossible’ was just a word and Shawn wasn’t interested in dictionaries. He, instead, was electing to ignore the perceived meaning of the word learned through 30 decades of language context clues.

That’s what led him to his new career as a bodyguard. Who cared about detectives anyways. Bodyguards were what the chicks digged these days. Not that anyone could know he was a bodyguard. That would defeat the whole point of trying to catch this unknown stalker in the act.

Instead, he made flirtatious comments to Juliet and Lassiter about his sexy new job and let Gus know that a ride home wasn’t needed. Once his bases were covered he was off.

Mitchel Collins’ apartment was pretty average. It was definitely cleaner than Shawn’s but nothing too interesting of note to make of it. A second of observation told Shawn all he needed to know about the guy. For one, he still wasn’t over his last girlfriend. Though, to be fair, that one didn’t look much like it was his fault. A return address on a letter reading ‘Shanghai’ was a pretty good indicator that the relationship ended on a mutual understanding.

He also could tell that Mitchel was preparing the house for a cat but that the animal hadn’t arrived yet. The new bag of unopened cat food and a half-set-up litter box told that story clear as day.

Mitchel was a normal, if kinda lonely, dude.

What wasn’t normal, however, was the way he had his eye glued to his peep hole the moment the door was shut.

“Expecting someone?”

“Hell no,” was the gruff response.

Shawn made sure to jot down ‘paranoid’ in his mental notes. Though, he couldn’t really blame the guy. After all, paranoia is a pretty understandable response to three attempted murders.

Well, seven if you counted the four individual attempted poisonings all from the same restaurant. (Which Shawn was but Gus was not. Seven sounded cooler.)

The unfortunate part of the attempts on his life were that none left any trace of evidence. Nothing that made it seem like more than a couple freak accidents. Not even the restaurant incidents. None of the workers that Mitchel had seen those days he recognized. Not to mention that the three poisonings were spread out by a week or two between them. As for Shawn’s own looking into things, he also couldn’t sniff out anything weird.

As far as the police were concerned, they were just mishaps in the kitchen. Shawn called them attempted poisonings because that’s what Mitchel had called them when he was crying in the middle of the Psych office. In reality, even that was a bit of a stretch. What it had actually been was someone had left nuts in his order. Albeit, Mitchel was deathly allergic to nuts and already one of those three occasions had caused him to need an epipen (which, thankfully he had on his person at the time). However, it all still was much too circumstantial for the big boys in blue.

That was why Mitchel had come to Shawn. And that was why, if Shawn was to get any headway on this case, he would need to see the next attempt personally.

“Stop glaring out your peephole like that. Some poor children are gonna think Mr. Wilson lives here.”

Mitchel pulled himself from his door and gave Shawn a weary look. With a sigh he finally walked away completely and fell onto his couch. “Are you sure this is gonna work? I mean, what if-“

“Mitchie, baby,” Shawn cut him off. He stood before the couch with his arms crossed. “It’ll be fine. Remember, you have a world class psychic with you now. I’ll know where the next attempt is coming from before even the murderer does.” Shawn put his hands on his hips and gave the room another look around. “Now uhh, you got anything to drink? The spirits are parched.”

---

Shawn followed Mitchel around all day. Nothing seemed to really happen. Not even an odd word from a coworker or a strange phone call with a Darth Vader impersonator. It was all quiet.

Gus had already given his opinion on the case when Mitchel had first walked in. Gus had agreed with the police. Decided the guy was a clinical paranoid and needed a therapist, not a psychic. Even chalked the incidents at the restaurant to being that the place just sucks. (Apparently, Gus also had bad run-ins at Uncle Yum’s Hot Spot. From Gus’ retelling, the place had a bad rep with messing up orders. However, Shawn would also point out a place called ‘Uncle Yum’s Hot Spot’ probably isn’t best known for its spectacular service. Also, Gus had only gone there once. Mitchel had gone there practically twice a week or more for months since he moved to Santa Barbara.)

Either way, it seemed both Gus and the police had all decided their opinions both on the case as a whole and on Mitchel himself. At this point it wasn’t even worth calling his father to try and get another perspective on the matter. He was sure Henry would just parrot the same.

But Shawn was sure there was something more here. From what he could tell, Mitchel didn’t have a history of paranoia and he definitely didn’t have a history of cartoonishly Donald Duck-like bad luck. It was all tied together. It had to be. A clinically paranoid person wouldn’t go to a bunch of strangers looking for help. A restaurant, no matter how bad, would be hard pressed to fuck up so bad so often and with the same guy. Shawn had even looked into the place’s history. Their service wasn’t the best, like he’d expected, but they’d never caused anyone to die.

As for the other two times: Mitchel’s apartment almost burning down during the night by his stove and a car attempting to run him off the road. Both could easily be seen as accidents as well. However, Shawn knew for a fact, both by word of mouth and by observation, that Mitchel couldn’t cook. His own words even confirmed that he was terribly bad at it. The ramen packs in his kitchen and take-out boxes in the trash only helped the case.

The car off the road really could have been an accident. Shawn couldn’t see any evidence on Mitchel’s car to suspect foul play at least on that end. And since he hadn’t been there to witness the event, he really couldn’t be sure what had happened that night. As far as Shawn knew, it really could have been an accident. However, with the other ‘accidents’ seeming to be anything but, Shawn was hard pressed to disbelieve Mitchel’s recount of the event.

But that was where the problem really was. All these events really did seem circumstantial. There was no hard evidence that Shawn could dig up to help the situation. It was as if he were going after a ghost. But Shawn didn’t believe in ghosts and every time he was sent out after one he always came back with a suspect instead of a spirit.

But this time there were no suspects. Not even the unenthused servers at Uncle Yum’s had anything to hide from what he could tell. Shawn could only really hope that his time with Mitchel would produce anything even somewhat close to a lead.

The mysterious perpetrator had to slip up eventually. Their patience had to be wearing thin with every botched attempt. Shawn was banking on that being the case. It was all he had to go on. It was either that or he could leave and wait for the day Mitchel’s body showed up in the coroner’s office.

When nothing happened the whole day, Shawn stayed the night. When nothing happened during the night, Shawn walked out to help Mitchel get the mail. A large package was there for him along with a couple of letters. Mitchel grabbed the box and Shawn the letters to walk it all back to his place.

While they walked back, Shawn looked through the mail out of nothing more than boredom. Four letters. Two were credit card offers, one a bill, and the last one was hand written. The last one caught Shawn’s attention the most.

The return address said ‘Shanghai’ but there was something off about it. The handwriting was wrong. It wasn’t the same as the other letters Mitchel had lovingly kept. However, it did look familiar.

When they got into the apartment Mitchel went to work opening the box. Some cat scratch thing he’d bought off Amazon. Meanwhile, Shawn placed the other three letters on the kitchen counter before stepping into the living room, away from Mitchel with the last one.

He examined it for a moment. The letter was sealed up perfectly. No holes or divots anywhere. The handwriting still looked oddly familiar, but Shawn couldn’t pin it at the moment. He also knew for a fact it wasn’t the ex in Shanghai. As close as the mailer wanted to get it, it wasn’t it. The letter felt off. There was definitely paper inside but something else too. Shawn fingered it a bit before deciding on some kind of powder.

Any reasonable person wouldn’t open this letter. Any reasonable person would probably take it to the cops first and let them handle it. However, Shawn was the most unreasonable person anyone who’d met him had ever met. And also, he had a point to prove to the SBPD and he was going to prove it.

When Shawn opened the letter a puff of powder practically exploded in his face. He coughed and tried to waft it away with his hand. Yeah, that was about what he expected. He maneuvered the letter so not to spill anymore of the powder but to get the paper out and unfold it.

“What the hell was that?” Mitchel asked as he walked towards Shawn.

“Old lady nose powder,” Shawn responded as he looked at the paper. It was blank. Completely empty save for some of the powder that had gotten stuck on it.

“Old lady- what?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Shawn folded the paper back up and sealed the letter. He folded it and shoved it into his pocket before spinning to look at Mitchel with a smile. He put his hand to his head and said, “What you should worry about is the intense psychic vibe that I just got.”

“About what?” Mitchel clambered to grab at Shawn’s arm. Desperation laced his voice along with fear. “Is it about my murderer? Is he gonna strike again?”

Shawn closed his eyes to up the dramatics and hummed out. “Mmmm, yes. Yes it is! The spirits, they’re speaking to me through the old lady nose powder.”

Mitchel gave Shawn’s arm a hard shake. “What are they saying?”

Shawn opened his left eye to look at Mitchel. “For one they’re saying to get off my arm.”

Mitchel looked from Shawn to his own hands before snapping back and letting go. He mumbled out a “sorry.”

Shawn closed his eye again and continued to have his ‘vision’. “They’re saying… they’re saying… please spirits! Speak to me! You must speak louder! Ah-ha!”

“What? What is it?”

Shawn snapped open his eyes and looked at Mitchel. “The spirits are calling me to the police station. You need to drive me there immediately. All the evidence we need will be revealed to us then.”

That was all it took to have Mitchel scramble for his keys and practically drag Shawn to the car.

---

Shawn was pretty close on the mark. Whatever had really been in that letter was starting to take effect right as they were turning the corner to the police station’s parking lot. His muscles began to tighten and stiffen in unnatural ways. It was slow and unnoticeable for now. But the pain was what was really getting to him. His body felt like wet pop rocks were being thrown at him. Left to sizzle and snap against his skin.

By the time they parked, the sizzling was morphing into burning, with each intense clutch of muscle. Shawn and Mitchel quickly got out of the car and started towards the building when the muscle in Shawn’s calf clenched hard and made him drop to the asphalt.

“Shawn!” Mitchel cried and grabbed his arm to try and pull him back up. “What the hell was that?”

“The spirits,” Shawn croaked out through the pain. “They’re pretty pissed off.”

“Seems like it. Can you walk?”

“Theoretically,” Shawn responded before pulling away from Mitchel and continuing on.

Getting up the steps was way harder than it should have been. Shawn was pretty sure he was on a time limit. It was now or never.

He slammed open the doors to the precinct and gave a howl of anguish. It was only half fake as the muscle in his neck cinched up painfully and made his head throw back.

Those in the building looked at him for a moment before realizing who he was and going back to their normal work. It was kinda disheartening actually. Honestly, a guy takes the time out of his day not only to do their job but make it entertaining and all they can do is shrug it off. Shawn would feel insulted if he wasn’t probably dying. He made the mental note to be mad about it later.

He locked eyes with Juliet and Lassiter before quickly making a beeline for them. Mitchel followed close behind.

“Jules! Lassie!” Shawn called right as another spasm blasted through his side, causing him to falter in his stride as well as make a call of pain.

Juliet reached out a hand to grab Shawn’s arm and keep him upright. “Shawn are you okay?”

“He’s fine,” Lassiter grumbled with an eye roll. “Unless you count idiocy as a clinical issue.”

“I’ll have you know that my chronic dumbassery is none of your business, Detective.”

Lassiter only gave another hard roll of his eyes and turned back to his work. “Go away Spencer. We don’t have time for your antics.”

“But the spirits! They- Arugh!” Shawn was cut off by another call of pain as his arm muscle clinched hard.

“Shawn, are you hurt?” Juliet asked, clearly worried about her friend.

“He’s just looking for attention,” Lassiter hissed out, accusatorily. “And he can look for it elsewhere. We got a missing persons on our desk and an upset mother in our ear. Now is not the time for-“

“This!” Shawn called out as he pulled out the letter.

Juliet went to grab it but Shawn pulled back. “No! The spirits! They tell me it’s too dangerous! You need-“ he was cut off by another bout of pain and a grunt of anguish. His muscles felt like they were on fire. His face was burning as well. He was sure he looked just about as bad as he felt. “It’s poisoned!”

“What? Like the accidental peanuts in Collins’ take out?” Lassiter scoffed. “Please, Spencer. Stop trying to bring empty evidence to us.”

“Would you shut up and listen to me!” Shawn yelled back.

His yell surprised everyone in the room, including himself. They were now looking at him with full attention.

Shawn was about to take that to his advantage but was quickly cut off when the muscles in his legs tightened and caused them to give out under him. He fell to the ground, hard. Practically taking Juliet with him.

“It’s poisoned,” Shawn finally forced out. “The letter is poisoned. Some kinda powder.” He needed more than that. He wasn’t sure how much speaking ability was left in him. He also felt his consciousness was limited just the same. He had to think.

Shawn flipped through everything he had for this case. Everything he’d seen, everyone he’d talked to. He landed on the handwriting. It was different. It wasn’t the Shanghai ex. She wouldn’t do this to Mitchel anyways. He knew they were both still in love with each other. That was obvious by the letters themselves.

But this letter wasn’t sent by her. So then who sent it. Who was trying to kill Mitchel.

Then he got it. It flashed into his memory and it compared the two. There was a chance he was wrong but it was still better than nothing.

“Uncle Yum’s!” Shawn grunted out. It was getting harder to think through the pain. “The menu! The handwriting on this letter is the same. Check the, the menu,” that was all he could get out before finally dropping the rest of the way to the ground.

He heard the deaf calls of his name. But that was it. Then everything was gone.

---

When Shawn woke up his body felt stiff. It sucked a lot, actually. He started to shift around to try and ease the feeling. He wanted to go back to sleep. Honestly, he didn’t sleep much at Mitchel’s place and he was hoping to get some of that back.

He was pulled away from his nap even more when he heard his name being called. He opened his eyes and looked up to the person keeping him from his beauty sleep.

Gus was looking down at him, eyes full of worry and relief all at once.

Shawn looked at him for a moment as the events came back to him. “Oh my god,” he mumbled. “It’s Morgan Freeman. I really am in heaven.”

Gus frowned at that. “Really, Shawn? Jokes on your deathbed?”

“Not a deathbed if I’m not dead.”

“You damn well could’a been,” Gus hissed back. “Also I’m taking the Morgan Freeman comment as a compliment.”

“As you should,” Shawn responded as he pulled himself into a sitting position. “Any man would. I just compared you to one of the smoothest voices in all the English language.”

“You know that’s right,” Gus agreed with a sharp nod. He sat back down in the chair beside Shawn’s bed. The joke had the desired effect of both proving Shawn was okay and calming Gus down out of whatever panic he’d probably been in since he arrived.

Shawn finally took a moment to examine its surroundings. He obviously was in a hospital. Which sucked. Shawn hated hospitals. He had one of those big breathing assistant masks on. Lame. He also noted the IV stabbed into his wrist. He decided everything chalked up to a good ‘fuck this’.

Shawn made quick work of pulling off the breathing assistant and wiping a hand down his face.

“Shawn,” Gus started, clearly not having any of it. “What are you doing?”

“Getting the hell outta here,” Shawn explained as he made a move for the IV.

Gus quickly reacted by grabbing his arm and holding it back. “Shawn, don’t you dare pull that out.”

The detective let out a loud groan. “Gus! I’m fine. Besides, I have a case to finish solving.”

“You are not ‘fine’, Shawn!” Gus hissed out. “You nearly died! You’ve been out for almost two days! Do you even know what you inhaled?”

“Poison. Duh.”

Gus frowned harder at that.

“Gus, please, you’re going to get wrinkles worse than my father if you keep looking at me like that.”

“You’re probably the reason he has those wrinkles.”

“You wound me.” He looked up at his partner with faux hurt, putting his free hand on his chest. “Besides, I’m pretty sure my father was born a crotchety old man.”

“This is serious, Shawn. You had strychnine poisoning.”

“What is that, like the pain medicine?”

“That’s anodyne,” Gus hissed out. “Strychnine is a poison that causes muscle spasms and paranoia. And in severe cases like yours, can be fatal.”

“Ah, but it wasn’t,” Shawn smiled up at him. “And isn’t that what we should be focused on here?”

“No, it’s not. Do you even realize you-“ Gus was cut off when he noticed Shawn’s eyes dart directly to the door. Gus turned his head to follow the line of vision and saw Lassiter standing in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Yes,” Gus started.

“No,” Shawn responded immediately after, cutting him off.

Gus sent Shawn a glare.

Lassiter looked between the two of them before signing out, “Right.” He let himself step more into the room. “Listen, Spencer, I wanted to-“

“Gus!” Shawn called out, interrupting the detective. “Go down to the kitchen and see if they have any pineapple.”

“Oh hell no,” Gus began to argue. “The second I leave you’re gonna make a break for it.”

“Lassie is right here,” Shawn said, gesturing to the other. “I doubt he’d let me scamper off any.”

Gus matched Shawn’s gaze for a moment. Almost as if a silent battle of wills was going off between them. Finally, Gus frowned and said, “Fine. But if you get out that bed before I get back or a doctor tells you to, I will kill you myself, Shawn.”

“Love you too, buddy!” Shawn called out after him as he left. Shawn watched him leave out the door and waited a moment before immediately pulling out the IV from his arm.

“Spencer!” Lassiter hissed out.

“Oh calm down, Lassie,” Shawn sighed as he got up from the bed and started to look around.

“Guster just threatened you with death and you’re still going against both him and the doctors?” Lassiter crossed his arms and gave the other an unimpressed look.

“I don’t do hospitals,” Shawn said as he finally found his clothes. “Gus should know better than to leave me alone in them. If anything, it’s his fault for believing me.”

Shawn started to strip off the hospital gown to throw his actual clothes back on.

Lassiter made a sound of surprise before looking away.

“I don’t mind if you look.”

“Yeah, well, I do. Couldn’t you have gone into the bathroom to do that?”

“Absolutely not. This way if a nurse walks in she’ll either be scared off from embarrassment or will be so enraptured by my masculine wiles that she’ll be mesmerized giving us time for our escape.”

“And if it’s a man?”

“Same 50-50,” Shawn finished buttoning his pants and looked to the other. “I’m decent, mother.”

Lassiter turned back to face him but not without a scowl on his face. “You really should stay.”

“Don’t start that. I’m trying to get out of here before Henry gets here. Now come on,” he said, starting for the door. But not before a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Shawn looked back at Lassiter. An unreadable expression on the detective's face.

“Spencer, we need to talk.”

Shawn gave a groan. He pulled his arm back and crossed them. “Fine, fine. But make it quick. I really am trying to bolt before my father or Gus find me.”

“The tip you gave us at the police station.”

Shawn’s posture became less defensive at that, now fully listening.

“You were right. We went to that dinner and got a warrant to search the worker who does the menu art on the boards.”

Shawn sat back against the bed as he listened.

“Turns out it was a man named James Cox. His fiancé apparently was an old ex of Collins’ who’d been trying to get back in touch with him recently.”

Shawn nodded in understanding. “Not wanting some guy to be an issue with his relationship he goes in to kill him and try and make it look like an accident.”

“Doesn’t stop there,” Lassiter informed. “Collins had apparently scammed the woman out of about three hundred dollars after they split ways.”

“Well. Didn’t see that one coming. Guessing Cox still isn’t very happy with Mitch.”

“Pretty much.”

There was a small pause as Shawn flicked through the information just given to him and the information he already had. Making sure each piece was accounted for. “Just in case, you might wanna keep an eye on Mitchel. Still can’t be sure if the fiancé was in on it or not.”

“I’ve got a guy on that already. Cox admitted to it all, but we’re still on the cautious side of things. O’Hara is looking into the fiancé.”

Shawn nodded. “Well!” He slapped his leg and stood back up. “Since all that's done. Guess I’ll see you-“

“Stop.”

Shawn looked at him.

“We aren’t done talking. Sit.”

Shawn sat back down with a frown.

“You could have died.”

“But I didn’t.”

“But you could have,” Lassiter hissed out. “What part of that do you not understand? Why did you open that letter? Why didn’t you just bring it to us? If you knew what was in it and who sent it-“

“I didn’t know at the time. At least not for sure.”

“Oh, I see, so you wanted to test to make sure it was actually poisoned?”

“Duh.”

“Spencer!” Lassiter shouted in surprise.

“What! You wouldn’t have believed me if I’d brought it in!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do!” Shawn leapt back to his feet, giving Lassiter an accusatory glare. “You didn’t believe Mitchel when he came to you begging for help cause someone was trying to kill him.”

“That’s because he didn’t have any kind of real evidence.”

“And what about me, huh? Why didn’t you believe me? Why don’t you ever believe me?”

“How can I? All you ever do is lie!”

Shawn wanted to argue that. But he knew even that would be a lie in itself. Instead, he said, “Every lie is built off a kernel of truth. Didn’t you learn anything from Ryan?”

“This isn’t about Ryan. This is about you. You’re not Ryan.”

“Funny that you’d say the same thing my dad did during that case,” Shawn signed out with an almost humored voice. “Especially since you’re the two people who seem to trust me the least.” He shook his head before looking back up to meet Lassiter’s eyes. “Fine. I lie. But there’s always a kernel. I’m not against you, Lassie. You don’t believe I’m psychic. But at least believe that I know what I’m doing and that I’m right.” Shawn looked around the room for a moment before realizing all his things were already in his pocket. “I always am,” he added on before making his way to the door.

Lassiter followed after him. “You’re not ‘always right’. You screw up just as much as the rest of us,” he argued. Clearly not done with this conversation like Shawn wanted him to be.

“I get there eventually. I was right about this case wasn’t I?”

“That doesn’t change the fact of what you did. And you can’t just leave, Spencer, stop!” He hissed and grabbed Shawn’s arm, stilling him right before the elevators.

Shawn gave an annoyed groan. He really wasn’t feeling up to the whole ‘cat and mouse’ shtick. “I’ll drink some charcoal when I get home, will that make you feel better?”

“Hardly.”

Shawn pulled his arm back and turned on his heel to look at the detective. “Carlton Lassiter, if I didn’t know any better I’d almost say you sound worried about me.”

Lassiter frowned at that, but didn’t give a response.

“Look, I was right. I got the guy and I survived. I’d like to call that a usual win for me and go home to get some Doritos.”

“You survived this time,” Lassiter pointed out harshly. “You keep running head first into stuff like this and there’s no telling what will happen to you. And I’ll tell you this right now, Spencer.” The detective stepped as close as he could to the other without touching. He made sure their eyes met before continuing. “I refuse to be the one who makes that call to Henry.”

Shawn’s mouth opened as if he was to respond, but he had nothing. He only looked between Lassiter’s eyes for the second they were there before the detective turned and walked off. Shawn watched him leave down the hall. Any arguments or rebuttals having completely died on his tongue.

Shawn didn’t linger for long. He really did hate hospitals and wanted to get out of there as soon as he could. When he walked out the elevator and onto the first floor, Gus was right there turning the corner.

“Shawn!” he called out, running up to him. A bowl of, most likely canned, peaches in his hand. “What the hell did I say about getting out of that bed.”

Shawn looked to him and plastered back on a faux pout. “And what about my pineapple, Gus? Those are peaches. And not even fresh ones.”

“Stop whining, Shawn. This was all they had. Are you still sick? Do you still have a fever?” Gus reached a hand up to Shawn’s forehead, only for the other to swat it away.

“How many times do I have to say ‘I’m fine’ before someone actually believes me?”

“Until you stop trying to get yourself killed,” Gus responded pointedly. He finally shoved the peaches off to Shawn who took them and, despite his complaints, did begin to eat them. “What did Lassiter want?”

“He wanted me to tell my dad about a sale at the Bass Shop going on right now,” he said as he popped a peach in his mouth and started towards the exit. “Oh and also so I could rub a healthy serving of ‘I told you so’ in his face over the Collins case. Which, I’ll spare you from if you give me a lift to my apartment.”

Gus only rolled his eyes but didn’t complain when Shawn crawled into his passenger seat.

Shawn pulled out his phone to messages from Juliet.

‘Heard you’re okay’

‘Come see me when you get a chance’

‘Lassiter too if you can’

‘He’s been really worried about you’

Shawn frowned and closed his phone. “Actually, Gus. Swing by the station for a second first.”

#psych #psych usa #shawn spencer #carlton lassiter #burton gus guster #juliet o'hara #sickfic #sicktember #sicktember 2022 #fan fic #fan fiction #mywriting

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