#spencer h

[ggblasts]

Spotted: The enigmatic Spencer Hastings, newly minted Manhattanite and founder of Hastings & Co., a law firm that materialized overnight like a plot twist straight out of her own drama. While she’s been turning heads with her sharp suits and even sharper legal acumen, her past remains as elusive as a whisper in the wind. What’s the real story behind this elusive lawyer’s sudden rise to prominence?

Rumor has it that Spencer, who was once the sharp-minded academic of Rosewood, is keeping more than just her client lists under wraps. Those who knew her in her previous life might recall her history of deeply tangled relationships and high-stakes scandals. Could it be that her decision to relocate to Manhattan and keep her past shrouded in secrecy is tied to unresolved issues from her days in Rosewood? Could her departure be linked to a scandalous cover-up or a secret betrayal that she’s desperately trying to escape?

The buzz around town suggests that Spencer’s new firm might not be as independent as it appears. Insiders have hinted at connections between Hastings & Co. and some of Manhattan’s most influential (and notorious) figures. Is she leveraging her past connections, or could there be a shadowy network pulling the strings behind the scenes? With her impeccable reputation and sudden success, questions abound about whether she’s been playing a long game with some powerful allies—or enemies.

Another layer to this mystery is Spencer’s avoidance of her former life. Why the sudden silence about Rosewood? Some say that her past is filled with secrets that would make even the most seasoned socialite blush. From clandestine relationships to personal betrayals, her history is rich with drama that could jeopardize her new life if exposed. Could her move to Manhattan be a strategic retreat from a past she can no longer control?

And let’s not forget the whispers about her personal life. There’s talk of Spencer engaging in an intense relationship with a prominent Manhattanite—someone whose own secrets might be just as murky as hers. Could this new romance be the key to her apparent transformation or, perhaps, a smokescreen to deflect attention from her true motives?

So, Manhattan, keep your eyes peeled and your gossip mill running. Spencer Hastings is making waves in the legal world, but the real intrigue lies in the shadows of her past and the secrets she’s so determined to keep buried. Stay tuned as the plot thickens, and remember, you heard it here first.

XOXO, Gossip Girl

@spence-hastings

[venusbyline]

GUYS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!!! I NEED TO RIDE THIS MAN IMMEDIATELY

[pathologicalreid]

buried alive | S.R.

in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angsty

content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.

part two part three

You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”

“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.

It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.

“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.

Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”

You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”

Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.

“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.

“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.

There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.

“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.

You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”

Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.

The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”

The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.

Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.

Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.

“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.

You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.

They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.

You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.

Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.

“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.

Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”

Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”

“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.

Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”

“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.

After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.

Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”

It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.

The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.

Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.

Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.

Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.

Your team would find you. They had to find you.

They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.

Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”

“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.

He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.

Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”

But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.

They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”

Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.

You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.

It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.

The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.

“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”

Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”

“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.

What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.

Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.

Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.

He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.

“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.

What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.

Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.

It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.

Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.

The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.

“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”

Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.

Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”

He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.

Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”

To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.

You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.

According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.

Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”

A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”

He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.

You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.

“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”

Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?

You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”

His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.

Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.

He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.

Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.

“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.

Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”

part two

[wistfulwatcher]

13.15 Annihilator | 17.06 Message in a Bottle

[bbsxsaa]

🌼 the real plot of the szn 🌼

[chewednails]

the RAGE i felt when I realized NO ONE said 'shut the fuck up, Spider!' this season😭😭

[detectivejay]

Another from the list of polls I've been wanting to start, this time about your favorite "Watson" or sidekick character in a detective or mystery related piece of media! They can be an adaptation of John Watson or an entirely different character who fills that role, so long as they have a Sherlock-type partner they work with to complete that dynamic.

I can't possibly cover every Watson type character, especially since Tumblr polls only give me 12 options, so I've filled out some on the top of my mind or ones that are more famous, and then there's the "Other" option to support any favorites not on the list.

There's several John Watson adaptations where he's pretty close to the book canon, so I haven't listed all separately here, mostly just ones where there's a more distinct change (modernization, etc.) or he has more focus.

So without further ado:

Please reblog for a larger sample size :)

[ganseysglasses]

hey can we go on silly adventures solving crimes where i pretend to be psychic for the local police department and i introduce you as a different absurd name every single time we meet someone? can we drive a ridiculous blue car and go undercover while you discuss how this is not helping you do your day job at a pharmaceutical company? can we annoy the head detective and crash every case and every once in a while drag my retired father into it also while i tell you i’ve heard it both ways? can we do that please?

[unloneliest]

in the lonely hearts club job leverage asks the question "does romantic love exist?" and answers it by having eliot buy parker a venus fly trap on hardison's behalf, expecting no recognition and revealing eliot remembers a throwaway comment parker made on their second job together.

we all know this.

but was anybody going to tell me hardison already had a browser window open looking for restaurants to buy eliot in portland in response at the start of the episode immediately after that? or was i supposed to figure it out on a rewatch all by myself?!

[pricklypearflowers]

New day, new heartbreak high text posts 💔

[petrolandchlorine]

ca$h and spider are kind of each other's foils if you think about it...

both ca$h and spider come from households where they're raised by single maternal figures but they're so different in the relationships they have with those figures and how those relationships impact the way they treat the people around them.

ca$h's nan always supports him, even when he gets sent to jail and ultimately believes that he's innocent and a good, kind person who wouldn't hurt a fly, regardless of the trouble he gets in. even the first time we meet her, it's "my grandson's done nothing wrong", even though we know she has no idea if that's true or not, she's willing to lie to the cops and will always give ca$h the benefit of the doubt no matter what.

contrast that with spider's mum, who constantly puts him down and has so much hatred towards him because he wasn't the daughter she wanted and not only genuinely believes that he's a future rapist, but has no qualms about expressing that belief to a teenage girl she's just met casually over lunch.

spider does have moments where he's kind towards the girls, but he also lies about hooking up with quinni (body-shaming her in the process) and uses ableist language towards her when she calls him out on it, he repeatedly bullies amerie, he's transphobic towards darren, he's involved in falsely accusing jojo, a black female teacher, of being a sexual predator to get out of a class he doesn't like, he verbally abuses jojo and gets in her personal space, he victim-blames malakai, not to mention all the t*te-wannabe rhetoric he spouts during his school captain campaign. it's only when people (outside of voss) start to express that they believe in him that he actually starts to realise he's been acting like a dick.

ca$h has so many outside influences and since there's a lot of toxic masculinity in eshay culture as well, he could have very easily fallen down the cumlords pipeline too but he doesn't. his nan is a firm, no-bullshit person but will always stand by him and i think that's reflected in how he treats his friends. i especially liked his dynamic with quinni this season and hope we get to see more.

[ggblasts]

Spotted: Spencer Hastings and Hanna Marin strolling through Manhattan like the besties they’ve always been, but let’s be real, Upper East Siders—there’s always more beneath the surface when these two are involved. They may be in their 30s now, but if history’s taught us anything, it’s that Spencer and Hanna’s past never stays in the past for long. And with the way they’ve been seen hanging out around the city lately, one can’t help but wonder… are they really here for a fresh start? Or are they running from something?

Manhattan’s a long way from Rosewood, but can it really be far enough to escape the shadows of their old lives? I mean, we all know the horrors of “A”—and yes, girls, I know all about it. It’s hard to forget the lies, secrets, and betrayal that consumed your younger years. Sure, Spencer’s sharp mind and Hanna’s killer style seem perfectly suited for the Big Apple, but something about this sudden closeness between the two makes me think they might be leaning on each other for more than just a girls’ night out.

It’s almost too perfect, isn’t it? Spencer, the ever-ambitious brainiac, now surrounded by Manhattan’s power players, and Hanna, the fashion-forward queen bee, slaying the city with her looks. But why the sudden reappearance? Is Manhattan the ultimate escape, or are they looking to outrun something—or someone—that’s followed them here? Because let’s not forget, secrets never stay buried forever. And if anyone knows that truth better than anyone, it’s Spencer and Hanna.

Are they fooling themselves into thinking that the past is firmly behind them? Because if you ask me, the closer they get, the more they’re reminding me of those Rosewood days—days where trust was always fleeting and danger was just one text away. Is “A” still lurking in the shadows, or have they traded one set of problems for another in the Big Apple? With how often they've been spotted together lately, it’s hard not to wonder if their past is threatening to catch up with them all over again.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a fresh start. But when these two unite, it’s rarely without some hidden agenda or lingering threat. And if they think Manhattan’s going to be any easier to navigate than the twisted mess they left behind in Rosewood, well, they clearly haven’t spent enough time in my city. Manhattan has its own secrets, and I, for one, am more than happy to keep a close watch as Spencer and Hanna attempt to outrun their past—or maybe even rewrite it.

One thing’s for sure: they can’t hide from me. Whether they’re here to escape, reinvent themselves, or finally put their dark past behind them, I’ll be watching every step of the way. After all, Upper East Siders, everyone’s past has a way of catching up with them eventually.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

@spence-hastings @hannaomarin

[venusbyline]

Oasis ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 01, oct.

— pairing: Spencer Reid x wife!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: squirting + overstimulation

— summary: Spencer finds out another guy made you squirt in the past and it hits a nerve. You agree to try this with him, even after your husband's sudden childish behavior.

— word count: 4.3k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 1st day, female!reader, husband!Reid, squirting, overstimulation, arguing, mention of safeword (no use), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), curse words, light degradation, biting, body worship, no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @magnoliatrees-world @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00

— crossposting: AO3

Ever since Spencer had to stay away from Virginia for more than fifteen days solving an extremely urgent criminal case, you've been needy all the time. Your thoughts were in an ironical division between your concern for your husband's safety and well-being, but also the pure desperation and desire to be touched by him again as soon as he returned home.

And it didn't happen.

Unfortunately, Spencer arrived so tired the night before that he didn't even bother to reheat his dinner. After all, it wasn't your fault if he returned late and the lasagna was already cold. Spencer was never a husband who demanded you anything. Both of you cooked and took turns doing the other tasks... As any couple should do. Of course he never complained if you didn't make his lunch before work. It was the least a husband should do. And you two knew it.

So it was a big surprise when there were no welcome hugs and kisses, but just the rolling of his eyes when he noticed that you put his dish in the fridge due the lateness. A spoiled attitude coming from him, and you gave up the lecture because you supposed he was just exhausted and frustrated after the case he solved with the team.

However, that didn't last long. Spencer simply took his things to sleep in the guest room. That made you angry as hell. He couldn't be being such a petty brat over a damn cold dinner, right? Spencer wasn't like that.

It was only a few minutes before you followed Spencer into the other room, asking for an at least reasonable explanation for what was happening to him.

And your hope of ending the night of Spencer's return with a good sex was completely dashed due to the unexpected argument.

During the morning, you left the room still sleepy and grumpy by Spencer's behavior last night, but tried to focus on other things. You tried to distract yourself by making the breakfast, furrowed brow as you watched the eggs and bacon strips frying in the pan.

You turned the piece of meat to the other side when you realized that it was already a little fried, but you let out a sigh when you felt hands entwining around your waist, the recognition of the shaving lotion smell preventing you from screaming in fright.

"It smells great..." Spencer hummed with groggy voice from sleep, leaning over so he could be at your height and resting his chin on your shoulder. The compliment about the good scent he was also flowing almost escaped your lips, but you remained silent, ignoring his existence right there behind you. Even though you hated giving him the silent treatment, your pride was wounded and you needed to give him a taste of his own medicine. After all, he had been trying to ignore you all night, before the uncomfortable silence turned into a stupid fight.

Not getting any reaction made Spencer's heart to ache, and he sighed. "Honey, please... Talk to me. You know how much it hurts me not to talk to you."

You couldn't help but let out a mockery sound, without even looking at him back. "Seriously, Reid? Because I remember very well that you were planning to do exactly that shit last night."

Your accusation made Spencer let out a frustrated sigh, his hands letting go of your waist and taking a few steps away. For a moment, you thought he was angry too and going back to guest room or maybe the living room, but instead, you looked at him furiously as he turned off the flame of the stove.

"What the hell? I haven't finished cooking yet!" You exclaimed with a frown, not believing your husband's boldness.

"Yeah... I know." Spencer took a deep breath, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. "You can finish later. I need to explain myself."

"Oh, so now you wanna explain yourself?" You scoffed. "Maybe if you had done that yesterday instead of treating me like trash or-"

Spencer cut you off, holding your shoulders gently but firmly enough to make you shut up and pay attention to what he needed to say.

"I'm so sorry, okay?" He began and one of your eyebrows rose in a nonverbal sarcasm sign. "I'm serious, honey. I was an asshole last night and-"

"Yes. You were." Your words came out colder than he was expecting and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "You threw a lot of shit at me without me even knowing why we were fighting."

Spencer took another deep breath, trying to work up the courage to confess about what messed with his mind. He knew that nothing he said would justify his actions and that was making him anxious, his heart ached not only at the mere thought of you not forgiving his childish behavior, but also at the possibility of you keeping to avoid his touches and his attempts to talk.

Spencer let go of your shoulders, his hands coming down until they were intertwined with yours, even if your fingers were stiff at first.

"I was jealous..." The confession finally came in an embarrassed whisper.

A perplexity look appeared on your face. "Jealous? Of what?" You asked, trying to look him in the eyes, even though his face was tilted down, a few strands of hair hiding his flushed cheeks. When he didn't answer, you insisted, lightly touching his fingers that were still intertwined with yours. "Explain it to me, Spencie."

Your demand said by a less angry way made him whimper, needing to be honest. "Y-Yesterday, after the case, the team was at the BAU. JJ, Prentiss and Garcia were talking some personal stuff about their sex lives..." Spencer began. "I-I wasn't paying attention, logically, I swear. I was with Morgan and Hotch talking about random things, but my hearing accidentally picked up a certain topic of the talk between the girls and-"

"Spencie..." Your voice softer now that you noticed how he seemed embarrassed and stuttering like a little child, as well as he was also beating around the bush. "I know you're nervous, but you could try going straight to the point, please? I'm worried here too."

Spencer nodded, knowing you were right. "I accidentally heard JJ whispering to the girls that you already had a squirt." He murmured and it was your turn to get hot and rosy cheeks. You could imagine that JJ hadn't told your secret as a gossip, but rather to add some important information on the subject, but it still left you embarrassed. "But you never had a squirt with me..."

Your eyes widened with realization and you tried to work around the situation. "Baby..."

"Don't do that... Please. I know how it works, okay? I know that not every woman can squirt and I also know that those of you who can squirt don't necessarily do this often. I've also read that it's not always as pleasing for you as porn makes it seem-"

You cut him off. "So you also know that squirting doesn't always happen during a orgasm. It can also happen even without cumming. It's something individual for each woman, it's not like an exact rule."

Spencer huffed angrily. "I know, fuck. I know..." He grumbled, running a hand over his face. "I know how all this shit works. But it doesn't change anything."

"What doesn't change, Reid?" You exclaimed impatiently now.

"The fact that you hid this from me!" Spencer shouted and you immediately rolled your eyes. "Damn, don't you dare roll your eyes at me. You don't know how much hearing that behind my back hurt me."

"Retroactive jealousy? Really, Spencer? You know better than anyone this doesn't make any sense." You huffed, massaging your temples to avoid the huge urge to pick up that frying pan and hit your husband in the back of the head.

His jaw clenched when you mentioned that. "It's not... It's not just jealousy, much less the retroactive one." He was stubborn like a fucking child, the sight of Spencer crossing his arms to try to look more mature almost made you chuckle.

"Oh, I bet it is, and very immature too." The scoff escaped before you could think of something more gentle to say. "Fuck, Spencer. It's not like we share details about our past sex lives with each other. That would be really awkward and uncomfortable. I don't wanna know what you've done with other women in your past and I guess you don't wanna know what I've done in my past either."

Spencer kept his arms crossed, but his eyebrows shot up and his jaw clenched for the second time, a clear sign that he knew you were right, it was just hard to admit.

"Well, I really don't wanna hear about that old stuff, but this is important one..."

"Why on earth would this be important?"

"BECAUSE NOW I'M FEELING INSUFFICIENT!" Spencer uncrossing his arms as he looked at you with despair. "I feel like I'm not giving you enough pleasure! Now I feel like I've never given you a decent orgasm."

You felt your eyes widen again. It all still didn't make any sense, it was something completely irrational coming from Spencer. You knew that academically, Spencer was always a genius who knew about anything in the world, but when it was something regarding you or your relationship, he acted like any man, lost with most situations and also insecure at times.

"You're being ridiculous." You grumbled, trying to push past him before his hand closed around your wrist, keeping you firmly in place.

"I know. I know I'm being immature and irrational, but-"

"But what, Spencer? Jesus Christ, if you were trying to deal with jealousy, it would have been easier to have asked to fuck me last night or something."

His face flushed and he began to stutter, not knowing what to do other than let go of your arm.

After two minutes of awkward silence, Spencer tried to argue again. "That's not... That doesn't make sense. We can't solve our relationship problems by having sex..."

His hypocrisy made you roll your eyes. "Oh, sure. And fighting solved it?" You asked and he looked away, knowing you were right. Again. "Yesterday I was really desperate to have sex with you."

He lifted his head and looked at you, surprised. "You mean that?"

You laughed quietly due to the confusion in his face. "Yes, Spencie. You've been away from home for over a fortnight, do you really think I'm not fucking horny?"

Spencer stopped to think for a moment, scratching the back of his head and trying hard to find a solution to the stupid situation he created. "So can we... Can we try?"

You looked at him, thinking about denying it out of a tantrum, but you just sighed and then argued. "I don't know, Spencer... I'm not in the mood, but we can try just for learning purposes. More like a lesson than our real sex."

A guilt expression appeared on Spencer's face, along with a pang in his chest. The idea of you not even wanting to have real sex with him for now was torturous for him. He knew he had failed with you, being so immature to the point of making you lose your lust about the situation. But he could try to redeem himself. Even though it was a selfish thought at first, he was now determined to apologize properly.

"Yes... Yes, that sounds good..." He gave you a sad smile.

You lay down on the bed and put a pillow under your hip. Your pajamas were already thrown somewhere random on the floor, just like the pink cotton panties. You were ready to teach Spencer whatever he needed to learn.

There was no certainty that he would be able to make you squirt. You always had the best orgasms when Spencer was in charge of pleasuring you, but he was feeling less after the discovery that you had already squirted with the help of another man. A man who wasn't him.

Maybe hiding this fact from him hadn't been tbe wisest choice, even if you hadn't done it on purpose. You just didn't think that mentioning this situation or asking Spencer to try that would really be so important. Over the years, no man had given you half the pleasure that Spencer gave you on a daily basis, squirting or not.

"Well, let's do it." Your words came out emotionless as you parted your legs, giving him the perfect view of your still barely wet pussy.

"You're shaved..." Spencer frowned at your complete lack of pubic hair so suddenly. Or at least that's what he thought.

You rolled your eyes, impatience side by side with embarrassment, both eating you alive. "Like I said, I was desperate to fuck with you as soon as you got back from the case. So I decided to get a full wax beforehand."

At other times, Spencer would laugh hearing you confess so openly about your high desire for his body over the past few weeks. At other times, he would even tease you about needing a vibrator to help you achieve your release when he was away, even if you were more than capable of cumming with your own fingers.

But your hands didn't provide you the same ecstasy that Spencer's long thin fingers made you feel. And he knew it too.

You felt yourself holding your breath the moment Spencer took off his shirt to make himself more comfortable. As much as your pride told you to look away from his body, it was impossible for you to stop enjoying the view. Watching Spencer's bare skin was as addictive as the fresh water of an Oasis should be for thirsty people walking through deserts. And you couldn't lie... You were desperate to quench your thirst and taste him again after all that time away from each other.

Spencer knelt on the floor, carefully pulling your legs so that your lower body was closer to the edge of the bed, and automatically closer to his face.

"Are you okay, honey?" He asked with a cocky smile as he felt your thighs tingle as he touched them to adjust your position.

Hearing your husband's sarcastic smugness, you held back from punching him in the shoulder. "Yeah, I'm great." Your voice sounded angry and he chuckled softly, nodding his head and turning his attention to your center, which was finally starting to get wetter.

"I'm seeing..."

You ignored his mockery and looked at the ceiling, not wanting to exchange eye contact at that moment. Spencer's puppy eyes plus his mischievous smile were an almost fallen angel combination. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing or the Devil in disguise, just as Elvis Presley said in that song.

Spencer giggled as he ran his fingertips down your thighs, caressing your skin so gently that it felt like delightful torment. You fought to maintain an expression of indifference and boredom, but the goosebumps that passed through your body told him a different story.

Already knowing that not so soon you would give in and admit your lust, Spencer began to left kisses spread across the lower part of your thighs, enjoying the sound of your breathing becoming increasingly panting.

"What's the next step, professor? Your teaching method it's being too silent..." Spencer joked and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Just... Just keep doing what you always do for now." You hummed with the last bit of patience you had left, grabbing the sheet to keep your hands out of Spencer's hair.

Another chuckle escaped Spencer's lips and he nodded, placing more soft kisses on your skin before moving closer to your pussy again, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of your essence for a few seconds before leaving a quick delicate kiss on your bud. “F-fuck…” You squirmed slightly, your eyes widening at his unexpected action. "T-this is new..."

"I saw something like this while I was watching porn after our argument and I thought this might be good for you." Spencer confessed and you nodded with difficulty, a confirmation that the wished effect was occurring.

You looked at Spencer's cute face, but the eye contact lasted very little time, because as soon as Spencer's tongue began to tease your clit, your head arched back, more moans escaping as he held your legs firmly, not letting you give in to the normal human reaction of trying to deflect sudden pleasure. "Fuck... Why is this even better than usual?"

Spencer laughed again at the question you asked amidst the moaning session. He knew you were more touchy this time and he had an idea why. Probably due to the fact that both of you missed each other's bodies, as well as the fact that he was working hard as if it were actually a goal to be achieved, a prize to be won. But he wouldn't stop licking you to admit it. Deep down, he supposed that you were realizing that too.

"T-two fingers, Spencer! Put two fingers inside!" Your order left him a little disconcerted, since despite everything, he was used to putting in one finger at a time. As soon as he did what you demanded to him, he felt the walls of your pussy almost crushing his fingers, a desperate moan escaping your lips, fleshy and reddened from holding back the sounds that wanted to escape.

"Damn, honey... You're needy today." Spencer smirked, starting the movements more gently, wanting to enjoy the sight of you writhing around his fingers, begging for more. "You said it would just be a lesson, just a method to stop my stupid retroactive jealousy... But you're loving it, don't you?"

You just kept moaning. Even though the pleasure was obvious by the way your cheeks flushed and your hips rolled around Spencer's fingers. Pride prevented you from saying you were excited to make a mess on the sheets.

When Spencer interspersed the fingerfucking and his lips closing slightly around your clit, starting to suck gently, an immediate whimper left your lips. "F-fuck, do it again. Do it one more time, Spencie."

Spencer, the genius who learned too quickly, followed your commands like a good boy, sucking the swollen bud again, his fingers moving faster when he noticed how you eyes were rolling back in pleasure. It was a divine view. He could fuck you for hours, just as he could watch you cum for hours too.

He greedily licked away your first orgasm of the day, even though he knew it still wasn't enough. It still wasn't the goal you two were looking to achieve that morning. However, not only did Spencer never waste the opportunity to take in every drop of your sweet release, but he also knew that the first orgasm could make it easier to get closer to your potential squirt.

And to be honest, he might even be content with your normal orgasms, since you looked so beautiful when you came on his lips.

Your lungs burned for air as his breathing normalized, his heartbeat became faster and your vision readjusting to reality. When the white flashes disappeared, you look back at Spencer, who still has a cocky smile on his face, his fingers still working inside you.

"Honey, you're a very unfocused teacher." He mocked and the literal joke made you laugh, a weak, breathless sound, mixed with some sighs of pleasure that were impossible to you contain.

"Or maybe my dearest student's very diligent. Too much, actually." Your mockery made him laugh too. His lips moving closer to your intimacy again, but now focusing on nibbling the flesh of your thigh, speeding up his fingerfucking again. Even the smallest touch making you whimper, your pussy tightening from the overstimulation.

Spencer noticed this and bit your skin for the second time, now with a little more pressure, and you were sure you heard the neighbor from the next apartment knock on the wall to curse you for the sudden fucking loud moan in the middle of the morning. This only further increased Spencer's growing arousal and your need for more release. "Grumpy old woman." You mumbled about her, trying hard to hide the embarrassment that colored your cheeks.

"Oh, c'mon... Don't be shy, my dear wife." Spencer chuckled, licking your soft flesh before teasing your with his teeth again, but now just scraping them across your skin until he reached your core. You felt the moment when the central and lateral incisors brush against your clit. It was a soft act despite it taking a gasp from you due to the little pain. And then he did it again, returning to moving his fingers roughly.

When Spencer nibbled on your swollen clit, you almost screamed, but his free hand stopped you from moving away from him. “Relax, baby…” He purred, licking your sensitive pussy to redress for the pain he caused, his wet warm tongue matching perfectly with the bitter sting of his teeth returning to bit the same spot. It was so painful and hot...

“S-Spencie…” You whimpered as he blew on your slightly tortured clit. A rush of air so brief that you would barely feel it usually, but now, with your pussy burning in flames, the mere breeze of his sigh in that right spot made you shiver and squeeze his fingers tighter.

"It's okay, I'm feeling it, baby... I'm feeling your little pussy squeezing me. Are you gonna cum again? Will you be a good wife and wet my tongue with your cum?" Spencer practically growled, focusing back on fingering you, his fingers moving in and out of you at such a fast pace that the wet obscene noise joined your moans, filling the room like music to Spencer's ears.

The moment his tongue returned to licking your soaked folds, your body shook more than expected and you opened your mouth in a silent scream, your back writhing in Spencer's grip, arched and aching as the clear jets wetted your husband's face, a guttural groan escaping him as he opened his eyes to see you with your eyes closed and your legs shaking as he committed himself to drinking every drop from the fountain you provided.

Spencer didn't give you time to adjust to that non-routine orgasm. He took care of remaining with his head in the same position, between your thighs, licking your pussy as if it were the tastiest Oasis' water. Savoring the flavor, eyes closed as he concentrated on getting messy, not caring which part of his face he was rubbing against your warm cunt. Whether it was the lips, the nose, the chin... He rubbed every inch of his face, noticing how your moans became desperate again and you tried to push his head away, a mix of overstimulation and shyness.

Spencer always loved eating you out. However, nothing was like now. Nothing was like feeling eaten alive by a hungry lover, and at the same time so worshiped by him.

"J-Jesus... it's enough, Spencie. S-stop, please." You tried to push him away, enough to get a heavenly view of his face glistening due your juices, completely messed up and handsome like a angel.

But he looked up grinning like a devil. "Unless you want or need to say your safeword, then it's not enough and I'm not stopping now." He threatened, even though you two knew that the one word would stop him immediately.

Instead of answering him, you grabbed the back of Spencer's head closer to your already swollen pussy. He removed his fingers, focusing on letting you rub against his face. Every inch of the tip of his nose brushing against your folds was enough to make more pathetic whimpers come from you, plus a little liquid leaking out, now in light jets and low quantities.

You trembled, letting go of the back of his head and looking at him with your lip bleeding from biting so much. You wanted to say something, anything to say thank you, but Spencer had other plans. His fingers, still soaked from fucking your walls, began to return working on your clit. He smirked at your screams of pleasure, the tears streaming down your face... And he enjoyed every minute of all of this, exchanging his long fingers for his own palm, where the friction turned aggressiver, more painful, eliciting louder screams from you as he practically left your pussy raw, biting your thighs to create a mix of impressive actions whose only possible consequence was having you squirting into the palm of his hand, screaming like a whore. His little whore. Only his.

And when you did it, Spencer finally moved his arms away from your body. You sobbed, eyes closed and tears flowing. But he knew you were fine, especially when you let out a soft, weak and shy chuckle at just hearing the sound of him licking his own fingers so as not to waste any drop of your squirt.

"Was I better than your ex?" Spencer teased, pulling you to his chest, where he could caressing your hair and calm your tremors from all the orgasms he gave you.

Still with your eyes closed to try and calm down, you let out a scoff through your nose. He already understands how you feel, but that doesn't stop him from wanting you to say it, loud and clear. You nodded at his provocation and received a soft kiss on your forehead, while his hands snaked around your waist, getting closer to your tired and fragile body. "You're a very smart and diligent student." You managed to scoff and Spencer laughed, kissing your cheeks.

"Only because you're my favorite professor, honey."

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[lansangprincess]

Heartbreak High S2E2 highlights⋆·˚ ༘ *

malakai having hella bi panic in the escape room lmfao — "I had a threesome w a guy once. not to brag but it was pretty gay 😌✨"

AMERIEMALAKAI FIGHT NOOOOOOOOOOO

i feel rlly bad for Harper. I may not have liked her that much in s1 but I have always been glad her character and storyline exists bc fcking hell do i relate

anthony vaughn the man u are. imma tackle u for sure idgaf abt pig oil

the Missy/Spider ship gets into gear bc he got distracted by her muscle mommy-ness???? INTO IT.

but still, fuck u spider incel piece of shit <3

AND FUCK YOU TOO ZOEY VICTIM-BLAMING BITCH

the ant/harper scene i want that scene tattooed on me. right next to amerie/malakai first time scene. him being a fking idiot most of the time but having the sense to stop harper from doing something she might regret (while gently reassuring her that he wants to)?? i love him i love him i love him i love him

💗detective Quinni💗 exposing Sasha for being the hypocrite we all knew her to be

idk if i like rowan that much but i love malakai and seeing him have bi panic constantly is so funny but it also makes me feel really bad for amerie please just tell her T^T

CA$H BABY LOOK AT ME IT'S ME CA$H PLEASE DON'T DO THIS mommy im scared (…idk why but i feel like if u showed him the duck he'd go w nan and darren…)

[fics-n-stuff]

Today on my dash I have been seeing alot of posts about Spider being demisexual, which yes I agree, but I just saw some comments about a little overlap in storylines between him and Ca$h and OH MY GOD I NEED IT!!

Picture the scene: season 3 Spider on a journey of self improvement and self discovery, offhandedly hears something about the asexuality spectrum and actually takes in that information for the first time and what that might mean for him. All this time he's been feeling "betrayed by [his] dick" (the note he buried in the feelings pit) but now he realises that maybe he just doesn't understand. So he goes to the only acespec person he knows: Ca$h.

Imagine the two of them engaging in this deep, probably quite awkward, conversation about sexual attraction vs romantic attraction, libido/sex drive, the social stigma of being acespec and internalised acephobia. I mean, this could be a mutually beneficial exchange too because Ca$h, despite being accepting of his own sexuality, is going through a really rough time reckoning with what that really means for him in terms of a relationship - specifically with Darren - and he has a lot to unpack and work through there and being able to talk it through with someone could really help. They might even finally say the word asexual.

I just feel like there's so much potential here. I have faith in the HBH writers that the demisexual coding of Spider was intentional (and even if it wasn't at first that they will hopefully seize the opportunity to make it intentional) and I think there are so many cool ways this could go in terms of character development.

[angieblogging]

scars of the past.

worldwide issues || read on ao3 || writing masterlist

a/n: please read the warnings on this one! also i’m thinking about making this couple parts, so we’ll see.

description; you’re the new addition to the BAU team, after Derek Morgan left, Reid and Penelope hate your guts, but when you and Reid get paired up to visit the coroner’s office together he learns something about you, something you wanted to keep a secret and it changes the dynamic between the two od you.

warnings; mention of scars, sh, razor blades, swearing.

— THIS WORK IS NOT PROOFREAD!!

You were new to the team, when Agent Morgan left a spot opened and you got it, the excitement you felt was indescribable, you wanted this job forever and now it was your chance to become a profiler, to help the FBI, to meet other profilers. Your first day was rough, you were late and no one really talked with you except Emily, but you just shook it off as them being focused on the case, later on Jennifer also started to talk with you, you felt more comfortable knowing the two a little bit made you feel less alone and alienated.

The days passed fast and you had to admit the job wasn’t turning out how you imagined. You obviously were profiling, that part lived up to your, for a lack of better word, expectations. However the team wasn’t. You made two connections, you couldn’t even call that friendship. Jennifer and Emily tolerated you, they respected you and treated you with kindness, but the rest of the team was not a fan of you. Spencer always had an attitude when it came to you, as far as you noticed he gave it to no one else and no one defended you, except that one time where Emily had to stop him, because he was going too far.

Penelope treated you like air, like you didn’t exist and if she had to acknowledge your existence she did it as fast as she could, just so she can go back to pretending you don’t exist. It was crushing you. Every time you had to talk with Garcia or Reid the knot in your stomach tightened, it was there present all day long at work, but it was the worse when it came to those two. You knew there was another open spot for the BAU, that still remained empty and you wondered if another person would have to deal with this shit to and your heart just broke for them.

Since you joined the team you have solved one case so far, the way back on the jet was peaceful, everyone was exhausted and you just couldn’t wait to go home. Going home was your favourite time, drinking a glass of wine, catching up with your pet, watching TV, quite literally anything that would shift your focus from the terrible anxiety you were feeling, every fucking day at work.

Next day at work it shocked you to see more people around the table, you weren’t that surprised to see David Rossi, he took a time off because he got hurt during a mission, before you joined the BAU and you haven’t had the pleasure to meet him yet, but the other woman you didn’t recognise.

“Okay, so everyone is here. This Doctor Tara Lewis, she will be joining us on this case, alongside Rossi.” As Emily spoke, you glanced at Tara and smiled lightly as she looked at you, you felt at ease when she returned the smile.

On the other hand you ignored Reid, you could feel his eyes on you again, drilling a hole in your head.

You fucking hated this job.

The jet ride is always calm, not this time. David called shots this time and unknowingly of the situation put you with Reid, he wanted to protest, but David shut it down so he just glanced annoyed at you.

“What’s up with that?” Tara whispered to you, the two of you talked more, she noticed how disconnected you were from the team and when Emily mentioned you joined recently she felt at ease, knowing she wasn’t the only “outcast”.

“Great question, wish I knew…” You shrugged, you really didn’t know why Reid disliked you, but the problem was not on your end.

You and Reid were headed to the coroner’s office, to examine the victims bodies. The ride there was quiet, you didn’t know what to say and he said nothing.

You listened to his observations about the wounds, the two of you examined the body. What stood out to you were the scars on the women’s arms, you knew those very very well, you had the same ones on your shoulder. It was warm, but as long as you could you wore long sleeves, so only you knew for now.

“Hm.. Those scars, are they fresh? Was it a knife or another weapon?” Reid looked up at the coroner, but before he could speak you answered his question.

“Razor blade.” You just stated, but the silence made you glance both at Reid and at the coroner. “Um… Those are razor blade scars… They’re deep, but still narrow, a knife could do it, but probably not with this much precision.”

Reid looked back at the coroner and the man just nodded.

“Yeah, your partner here is right. These are most likely from razor blades, those scars are about a month old, most likely not connected to the UnSub, but both women had similar scars in different stages of healing.”

You two left in silence, but the ride back was not silent. You jumped up when he spoke at first, no radio and a quiet street combined with his speaking out of nowhere scared you.

“Sorry, what did you say?” You cleared your throat, he was focused on the road, very focused, his eyebrows were frowned and his brown eyes looking ahead as he repeated what he said before.

“I asked about what you said at the coroner’s office. The razor blades.”

You frowned, that was not the hole you wanted to dig under yourself. “What about them?”

“How did you know so fast?”

He knew? Did he? He was a genius, but you weren’t sure, that didn’t stop your mind from racing with no proof. Can you lie to a profiler?

Your chest started to feel heavy, an imaginary pressure was applied to it, your lungs were heavy as if filled with sand, you could feel how your heart sped up and how the temperature of your body rose up.

“I- um… I just did…” You managed to mumble out, fucking anxiety, you were a terrible liar, even worse under pressure.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, so you prayed he let the topic go.

“You clean now?” He glanced at you and back at the road.

That question made you want to jump out of the moving car, that was in fact not his business and you truly didn’t want the team to know, what’s in the past is meant to stay there. You didn’t know what to say to that, you opted on being a bitch untill he drops the topic.

“That is so not your fucking business… And who even said I- I did that.” You scoffed looking out the window.

You’re okay… You’re okay…

You kept repeating in your head that fucking phrase, but you were in fact not okay.

“Well, you do wear long sleeves always and in this weather you must be hot… Your eyes immediately focused on the scars at the coroner’s office… You knew the blade, you can know everything in theory, but you were sure of it… You pretty much told on yourself….But if it’s not you, then it’s someone close to you.”

Fucking profilers.

“Just focus on the road.” You said firmly, you did tell on yourself, especially when you claimed it was “none of his business”. That didn’t matter now, you couldn’t say anything to go back. He was right, but you didn’t want him to know, not him, not anyone. It was definitely too late now.