#united states of tara gif

[occupationdinosaur]

🡒 🎥 United States of Tara • Opening credits, 2009

[texaschainsawmascara]

Andrew Lawrence

[i-am-my-own-app]

[januaryembrs]

YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 

 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 2, Moving noises?

Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Author's note: Haha, take this! 2 chapters in one day! Also, every time I write another chapter to this story I have to update the warnings and it isn't even that spicy yet.

Mature content under the cut.

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'Are you alright? You look tired.' Tara sounds awfully concerned and you can imagine why. The bags under your eyes might as well be down to your knees by now. Turns out your new neighbor is nocturnal. You couldn't care less about the moving noises, but the fact that they only happen past ten pm is killing you. 

'No kidding,' you sass at her. Quickly, you smack your hands in front of your face. Sure, you're known to have an attitude but never to Tara. She's too sweet. 'I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.' 

Tara frowns: 'Is it that new neighbor of yours? Kieran told me he has a tendency to stay up late.' 

'That's an understatement. He's nocturnal.' Tara lets out an annoyed groan in solidarity, but it just sounds cute coming from her. 'It's fine. I'm sure he's almost done. I mean, how much stuff can you fit into one of those units? You've seen mine, the one next door isn't much bigger.' 

'Must be a big change, considering you and Zayne were so close.' 

'We still are,' you tell her, 'we just see each other a little less now. I do miss him a lot.' She nods but her eyes have a little twinkle in them and you know where this is going. 'No, stop that. Zayne and I are just friends.' 

'Never even... you know,' she questions with a cheeky smile and a wiggle of her brow. 

'No, never,' you laugh, 'as I said, just friends. I don't know, he just feels like a brother. I mean, I've teased him before as a joke and nothing “physical” happened on his end. So I don't think he likes me either.' 

'He goes through an awful lot of effort to be “just friends,” just saying.' 

'Yeah, yeah, sure. You have a very filthy mind for the way you look.' 

'It's been said,' she responds with a gleaming smile. You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, looking her up and down. 

'About that.' Her body tenses up every so slightly. 'Your boyfriend is not what I expected at all. I mean, I've seen him pick you up before and he looks quite tough, but he seemed just as awkward as you are.' Tara's eyes flicker around the room a while, seemingly not wanting to explain anything to you, until her phone lights up. She quickly checks the notification and gasps with excitement. 

'Hold that thought, so Kieran just told me they're doing drinks to celebrate Sylus’ move. That means they must be done,' she states in a chipper tone. You raise an eyebrow at the strange change of topic. There's a freaky side to that woman, you're sure of it. 

'So?' 

'So, I'm dropping Kieran off so he can have some drinks but maybe we can have a girls' night,' she suggests. Considering Red Crow isn't posting anything today for once, your evening is completely open. Could be fun to have a quiet night in with Tara. 

'Sure, sounds fun. What are you thinking? Movie, face masks, board game?' 

'All of the above,' she squeals in excitement, 'I'll bring some snacks.' 

'Great, just let me know when you and Kieran are driving over.' 

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To be a good neighbor, you decided to get this Sylus guy a little something as a housewarming gift. Considering they'll be drinking; a bottle of whiskey can never go wrong. Lucky for you, you were gifted a bottle of whiskey a few weeks ago but you know that one is not quite your style. The Writer's Tears single pot still. It's a very nice whiskey and you've had different whiskeys from Writer's Tears before, but you're just not the biggest whiskey drinker. It's expensive too, so it might give a good impression. 

Tara just texted you she's on her way, which means you've got about fifteen minutes before she gets here. You considered waiting for her and Kieran to hand over the gift so it could be in the spirit of "oh, just dropping my friend's boyfriend off" but that’s just weird. Feels like you're a parent dropping your kid off at school and you're not about that. 

So now you're here, in front of the oh-so familiar door that you used to have a key to. Part of you is really curious how the place looks now, another part of you wants to keep the memory of how it used to be in a time capsule. Either way, you've got a present for your neighbor and this interaction could be done within a minute if you do it right. 

You press the doorbell and hear something fall followed by a string of curses. The door opens fast and the person on the other side, who you think is probably Sylus, towers over you. You look up at him with wide eyes and recognize him right away. That man right there is the reason for most of your pleasure and orgasms. Red Crow. 

'What,' he barks. Rude , and not at all what you would've expected. Still, it takes you a second to take all of him in. He’s even taller than you imagined, eyes even more piercing, face even sharper. It's like a fucking God leaning over you and staring down like you're no more than a puny peasant. 

And a switch flicks in your head. 

'Fix your tone,' you huff, 'I'm your neighbor. I thought I'd bring you a housewarming present.' His eyes widen ever so slightly. How you managed to muster up such a bratty tone in the face of who's talked you over the edge more times than you can count is a mystery to you, but it feels kind of nice to see him stunned like this. You hold out the box the whiskey is packaged in towards him. 

His shoulders relax and he does actually fix his face. His features soften a little and his eyes no longer stare at you like you're an intruder. Your heart starts racing, as if your body just now realizes who is in front of you. You beg to the Gods above that your cheeks don't get bright red. A cold shiver goes down your spine when he takes the box from you with a flicker of an amused smile, the box suddenly seeming much smaller in his hands. 'Thank you, that's nice.' 

'No worries. Tara told me you're having a party, so I thought that wouldn't hurt,' you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. He studies your face for a second, searching for the answers to a question he doesn't ask you. 

'You know Tara?' You nod. 

'She's my coworker.' Shit, your voice isn't as steady as it was at the start anymore. You've got this man on a fucking pedestal and he's here, in reach. It's a weird feeling. Your panties are soaked but you're highly put off by the way he greeted you. Still... there are very little appropriate thoughts going on in your head right now. If this was your last day on earth, you'd have this man bend you like a pretzel right here right now in the hallway. 

He nods, amused like a cat playing with its prey. 'Is that right?’ 

'Yes. Whelp, nice meeting you. I'm gonna go back to my place,' you ramble awkwardly and quickly turn to slip back into your own apartment, accidentally slamming the door. How the hell are you going to face Tara now? Your body is going into overdrive. You bet you could cum just hearing your vibrator turn on. However, you can't risk it. Tara has told you Kieran drives like a maniac and always drives if he's sober, which is now. She could be in front of your door any second. 

"Just breathe," you tell yourself, "it's just a man." Yeah, just a man, a man that could fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Shit, your thoughts aren't your friends right now. A cold shower ought to work. Hopefully. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

The bottle of whiskey from his neighbor was put on display on his bar cart. He knows the kind and that type of whiskey isn't for parties. Not even small parties like this. He figures it might be a regift or something. No sane person would give a total stranger an expensive whiskey like this. Never mind a stranger who has been a disturbance from the start. 

Then again, they're not really strangers. He saw the look in her eyes. He's seen it before and hasn't been wrong about it yet. It's that "I've seen you naked" look. To be fair, Sylus would've preferred to stay anonymous in this building for a little longer but considering his neighbor is friends with Tara, she probably won't tell anyone what he does. That is, if she knows what her boyfriend Kieran does since he wears a mask in his content. 

But there was more in her eyes. More than just scandal or embarrassment. There was lust. A lot of it. So much so that Sylus feared he might've caused his pants to tent if she would've bit her lip. Best for both of them that she left when she did. 

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally, he's not one to obsess like this but there was just something about her. Something about how she looked at him, about the way she commanded him to fix his tone. It's been a long damn time since a woman showed that kind of dominance to him and, shit, it turns him on like crazy. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can rub one out real quick. He sits down on his bed and looks down at the bulge in his pants. He truly hopes he didn't look like that before. He hadn't seen her look at it. Besides, would that be so bad? It looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there, and he would have if she asked. Or demanded, he isn't picky. 

A devious thought pops up in his head. He promised his followers he'd record himself getting off if they begged and beg they did. Maybe he could tease her with this as well if she really does watch him. If it wasn't just a look of attraction and intimidation, but recognition. 

He whips out his phone, puts it on his dresser across from the bed pointed at his crotch and upper body with his thighs still visible. His face is just out of frame, not on purpose but he doesn't mind his followers not seeing how flustered one small interaction got him. Not that they'd ever know why, but she would. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed once more to check if everything's in frame when he hears it. The shower. Her shower. So, her bathroom and his are next to each other, which means their bedrooms are probably also next to each other.  

“Good to know,” he thinks to himself, and that's when he hears it. The softest, most muffled of moans coming through the air extractor fan followed by a string of whimpers. Those must be connected to each other. He feels his dick twitch against his pants like it's being chocked, his ears feel like they're burning while a wicked grin plays on his lips. 

And then he presses record. 

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Previous - Next

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[lordprettyflackotara]

party monster || fred weasley || part two

‘I see something in you.’

sum: after a wild night of partying, fred is in disbelief that he somehow fucked a ghost. but now he can still see you sober, but no one else can. he ends up in the hogwarts university psychiatric unit, where you decide to pay him a visit

tw:smut minors dni 18+, porn with a plot, ghost!reader, lowkey drug addict!fred, this prob wont make sense without reading part one, aggressive fred but nun too much, just a sprinkle of degradation because what’s a tara fic without some

a/n: had to really give this part two some thought, thank you to everyone sticking w me as i took 282829 billion years to drop this. love you, mwah <3

part one is here

The group jumped at Fred’s sudden yelling, looking at each other in a confused manner. Your eyes widened as you took a step back, suddenly fearful.

“You can see me?”

Your voice was as hushed as a whisper. No wizard or witch in your many years as a ghost had ever seen you sober. Your mind began to rack itself in an attempt of rationalizing the situation. Maybe the cocaine remained in Fred’s system. Yet those remnants had never created this result before. Fred sat up fully, shooting daggers into your being. “What the hell are you? A succubus?” He hissed. Draco glanced beside him, ensuring he wasn’t missing something.

Fred’s friends nervously exchanged glances, Pansy biting on her bottom lip. “Fred, who are you talking to?” Mattheo asked. The brunette was having a hard enough time being sober, nevertheless having to figure out Fred’s mental state. “What, you don’t see her? She’s right there beside Draco,” Fred said, pointing at you. You clutched your necklace, swallowing. “You shouldn’t be able to see me, this isn’t right,” You told him, your voice shaky. Mattheo put his hand on Fred’s shoulder, giving him a weary look, “There’s no one there mate.”

Disbelief washed over Fred as he shot him a nasty look. “Are you playing a bloody joke on me? Look at her! That’s the girl I was with last night!” He insisted. You blinked as his friends theorized he was hallucinating, causing you to look alarmed. “Fred you need to stop talking, they can’t see me and are going to think you’ve gone mad,” You protested. Fred rolled his eyes, ignoring your wishes. Mattheo looked over his shoulder, signaling for Draco and Pansy to leave the room. He mouthed words you couldn’t make out, your eyes narrowing.

“I haven’t gone mad, look at her!”

Fred began to explain every description word he could think of. He described your hair length, what you were wearing, the color of your eyes, your beauty. Mattheo and Theo pretended to play along, nodding intently. “They’re playing you Weasley. They don’t believe you,” You said, trying to catch his attention. Fred was irritable, his body in overdrive as he attempted to adjust to his new found hangover. “They’re not playing me. You both believe me, don’t you?” He asked, looking at Mattheo and Theo. The Slytherin’s immediately agreed, causing you to cringe.

This had never happened before, you had never planned for this. You had set countless wizards straight and not one of them had magically seen you sober. You had no one to ask, no one to help guide you to help Fred. You heard footsteps, causing you to glide through the dormitory door. It was there you saw Draco and Pansy, several professors nipping at their heels. You ran through the dormitory door, ignoring whatever bullshit Mattheo was feeding Fred.

“Fred they don’t believe you, there’s a group of professors coming. You need to run!”

The ginger stared at you in awe, not failing to notice you gliding through the wooden door. What were you, actually? A demon? A ghost of memories past? You didn’t seem ghostly, your being as prominent to Fred as anyone else in the room. It wasn’t until the swarm of professors man handled him out of bed, sternly forcing him out of the room that he realized he may be wrong. Their voices echoed through out his ears absentmindedly, his focus entirely centered on you. Your tongue was tied in a knot, your arm outreached to touch Fred’s shoulder.

He stared in awe as it went past his skin, floating through his body as if you were transparent. Neither of you had time to process this, the Gryffindor rushed out of the dorm before you could try to stop them. You trailed behind them, nervously jogging to keep up with Professor McGongall. “We’ve told you time and time again those muggle substances are no good Weasley,” She lectured, her heels clicking with each step. You sighed, Fred’s eyes glued to the ground. “I’m not seeing things, maybe a ghost but i’m not imagining her,” Fred insisted. You managed to catch his eye, brushing through his classmates that stood in your way. “Dont say anything. Just be quiet and let them do their examination. The sooner they think you were just sobering up the better,” You instructed. It was the best advice you could think to give, given the circumstances.

Fred raised an eyebrow, silently questioning you. “Trust me. The sooner everyone leaves you alone, the sooner I can explain,” You insisted. Fred clenched his jaw, sneakily nodding in understanding as you both finally reached the psychiatric hall. You stayed behind, clenching your fist nervously. You didn’t have the courage to follow him. Not right now. Regrettably you turned around in the opposite direction, leaving Fred alone with nothing but questions.

Everyone questioned Fred. If he was being honest he thought he was going to be interrogated to death. No one found his jokes funny anymore. No one saw him as anything beyond what they deemed to be his hallucination. The ginger tried to listen to you, even if he thought it was a bad idea. You had embarrassed him and now you had landed him in the psych ward. Only the maddest wizards were sent here, mostly from serious spells or potions gone wrong. But Fred hadn’t had either of those happen, resulting in an absurd amount of attention being placed on him.

Confessing his cocaine usage to Professors and Healers was not his favorite thing to do. Explaining how he snorted cocaine and the effects was difficult, all whilst trying to hide the identities of who he got it from. By the end of the day he was exhausted and hungry, the repetitive questions driving him insane. He sighed as he finally was roomed for the night, flopping down on a mattress. The room was something straight out of a muggle film, white padding covering the walls and floor. It was sound proof, meaning the only thing Fred had left was his thoughts. Thankfully he had a window, which was charmed so it couldn’t be opened or heard through. But it provided Fred with some sort of lighting, the full moon graceful enough to illuminate his new room.

It was then you glided through the metal door, your presence alerting the worn out ginger. “It’s about time you got here, you’ve got an awful lot of explaining to do,” Fred hissed hatefully. You sighed, walking over and sitting in the moonlight. You leaned against the padded wall, patting the spot next to you. Fred clenched his jaw as he joined you, heavy bags under his eyes. “I want to premise this by saying i’m sorry,” You began. Freds gaze was glued to the cushion floor, a pure white sweatpants, sweatshirt, and socks keeping him warm from the freezing temperature. “I died in the 1970s from a cocaine overdose. I can’t explain to you how or why i’m still here, but I am. I’ve always been able to be seen when someone is high on drugs, but never sober,” You told him. Your soft tone and worried state didn’t seem to faze Fred, his eyes tired as he stared at the floor.

“I did all of that to help you, please believe me. I like you. I wanted the best for you. You were supposed to wake up and think I was some terrible high so you’d swear off the cocaine and never do it again. I’m not sure how but you can see me still. I can’t rationalize it,” You admitted, sucking your bottom lip through your teeth. Fred’s emotions were hard to read, his face stone cold. “What took you so long to come find me? I did what you told me to and you couldn’t even have the decency to come visit me?” He asked bitterly. You brought your hand to his shoulder, softly touching it. “I died in the east wing, the medical one. Not even magic could bring me back,” You whispered. Your touch grabbed Fred’s attention this time, his eyes finally lifting to your face. “You’re touching me..?” He whispered in disbelief. You couldn’t explain it either, swallowing. “Y-Yeah I guess I am,” You replied.

Before you could process it Fred was on you, his large hand wrapped around your throat as he pinned you to the floor. He straddled you, his face red with rage. “You ruined my life! Everyone thinks i’ve gone mad because of you! You… You stupid ghost!” He barked. You struggled under his grasp, before aggressively shoving his shoulders. For a moment he was startled, giving you a window of opportunity. You rolled the both of you around, using both of your hands to grab his throat. “At least i’m not a stupid druggie! Find something else to fill the bloody void besides muggle substances!” You argued, your words laced with venom. The two of you were out of breath, panting as you choked the other. The veins in Fred’s arm poked out, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Whether or not either of us like it. We’re stuck with each other. We’re going to have to work together if you wanna convince everyone you’re sane,” You whispered, your vocal cords strained. Fred dropped his hand, allowing you to take large gulps of oxygen. You weren’t even sure if you needed it, but it made you feel human. “I’m convinced you’re my karma somehow,” Fred sighed. You released him from your grasp, the ginger letting out an exhausted sigh. “How do you figure that?” You asked. Fred gave you a sarcastic chuckle, putting his hands behind his head. “I get around little lady. I’m sure you know that,” He gloated. You crossed your arms, arching one eyebrow. “Really? You don’t fuck like a whore,” You countered. Fred’s hands were on you instantly, flipping both of you back over.

Your back hit the plush floor, Fred’s hand on either side of your head. You were completely pinned under him, completely at his mercy. “Oh really now? How do you figure that?” He questioned. His eyes flickered down to your plump lips so quickly you might’ve missed it if you weren’t studying him so intensely. “Experienced wizards don’t usually let me ride them in a public restroom,” You quipped, causing Fred to laugh. His laughter was genuine, his playful side making a grand appearance. “Oh yeah? You wanna see how experienced I actually am?” He asked. He grinded his hips against yours, causing you to gasp. “Maybe I do. Maybe I want you to take control this time,” You admitted. Fred smirked at your confession, bringing your lips to his.

There was something different this time. Something much more desperate and passionate. There was an indescribable connection between the two of you, one you may have undermined before. Fred slipped his hands up your sheer white dress, finding your waist with ease. “Although this dress is flattering, isn’t it a little stereotypical for a ghost?” He chuckled. His hands went up further to your breast, squeezing them tenderly. “I don’t exactly have a whole wardrobe you know,” You gasped, your back arching off of the padded floor as he began to you with your nipples. He could feel them growing hard under his touch, his lips strayed from yours, planting kisses down your neck. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he could feel your pulse. Fred wasn’t one to kill the mood, even though logically he should’ve asked some more questions.

None of the logistics or questions mattered now, his soul focus on pleasing you: the mysterious ghost girl who haunted him.

He kissed down your chest to your stomach, shoving your dress up to your waist. He was pleasantly surprised to find you wearing a danity pair of white panties, ones that he was quick to shove down to your ankles in anticipation. “Not much lingerie options either I take it?” Fred asked playfully. Your dramatic sigh made him chuckle, his breath hot as he hovered over your cunt. “Shut up before I change my mind,” You grumbled, feeling sheepish for the first time in a long time. He ran a finger up and down your slick, admiring your juices coating it. “Yes ma’am,” Fred hummed licking a stripe up your folds. You couldn’t help but moan, your sinful noises ones only Fred had the pleasure of hearing. He lapped at your cunt like a starved man, sucking at your clit as he brought two fingers to your entrance.

Fred hummed in satisfaction as you took him with ease, your gummy walks tighter than any other witches he had previously experienced. What was it? What was it about you that had him so addicted? He curled his fingers inside of you, finger fucking you quickly as he devoured your cunt. “My fucking- shit- Fred!” You groaned, your thighs squeezing his head. With each noise you made you only drove him deeper into his obsession. He watched as your mouth dropped in the shape of an O, your back arching off of the ground as he devoured you. “Fred, fucking hell, I’m gonna cum, please,” You whimpered. You bit your bottom lip as Fred grinned, relishing in satisfaction that you were under him like this. He hooked his extra arm around your thigh, keeping it pried open as you came on his face.

Fred hummed in contentment as he cleaned you up, licking your folds until he deemed you clean. This left you squirming, the ginger licking his fingers as he emerged from in between your thighs. “Now turn over and let me show you how good a whore can fuck you,” He ordered. You didn’t need to be told twice, turning over and laying on your stomach. Fred was quick to take out his shaft, bringing it swiftly to your entrance as he adjusted himself in between your legs. You gasped at the sudden stretch as he pushed inside, welcoming himself to your warm cunt. “You’re somehow tighter than I remember, fuck,” Fred grunted, watching you take him. You licked your dry lips, managing to pick your head up off of the floor. “Well, you were immensely fucked up,” You answered, feeling him bottom out inside of you.

Fred leaned forward, his breath hot as he nibbled at your earlobe. “Yeah? Well i’m going to immensely fuck you up. How bout that?” He quipped, before slowly backing out of your cunt before slamming back in. Your whimper was all the confirmation he needed, the ginger balling his hands into fist to brace himself as he fucked you. Your noises were loud and shameless, his name falling off of your lips like a mantra. “If I didn’t know any better i’d reckon you sound like the whore right now,” He commented, chuckling darkly. He pushed your head down onto the ground, turning your head to the side. “Only for you,” You moaned, drool forming on the side of your mouth as he rammed into you. His thrust were merciless, chasing a high he only wanted you to give him. His other hand held steadily onto your waist, promising bruises. (If your being could form them.)

Fred bit his bottom lip as he watched your ass jiggle with each thrust, your walls milking him for everything he had. “My little whore. Such a perfect cocksleeve for me,” He snickered. He could feel the way your walls fluttered around him at the sound of the degradation. “Awe you like that? You like being called my personal fucktoy?” Fred asked. You babbled an agreement, calling out his name. It didn’t take long for your second orgasm to wash over you, your body shaking as you came on his cock. Fred’s hips stuttered, yanking out of you suddenly. He grabbed your hair, pulling you onto his cock. You didn’t have time to process his aggression as he came in your mouth, his salty warm cum flooding your senses. “Can’t have a mess now can we?” He asked, satisfaction washing over him as you swallowed his seed whole.

Both of you were panting messes, your doe eyes meeting his. “You just fucked a dead girl in a psych ward. Are you sure you haven’t gone mad?” You asked.

Fred collapsed beside you, putting his hands behind his head, “Maybe, but i’ve only gone mad for you.”

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine? - Chapter thirteen: "I've never known a normal day in my entire life"

Summary: Spencer's mother moves in with her son and wife. This is exactly when things start going south for the Reids. Word count: 9.750 Warning:  Sad Spencer, violence, sadness, angst.  A/N: My poor babies... at least Spencer isn't alone during these sad times.

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter

(Y/N)'s point of view

After Hotch's departure and everything that it meant, I really wasn't at my best. It took me a few days to get into the right mental state again. I was scared the entire time, honestly. I kissed my babies every morning before dropping them at daycare, thinking anything could happen to them while we were at work. And Spencer knew it. The way he looked at me, he was worried, I could tell. But he wasn't saying anything. He wasn't dealing with it. He was waiting, I guess. Waiting for anything to happen, and force us to deal with what was happening around us.

And work, of course, didn't help at all. A few weeks after Prentiss' arrival as our new Unit Chief, Mr. Scratch targeted our team, again. That time, he kidnaped and tortured Tara's brother, Gabriel, while brainwashing and drugging a poor guy called Desmond Holt, and convinced him he was Gabriel.

It was one of the hardest cases we had to deal with in the last months, 'cos that guy didn't know he wasn't Gabriel, he was sure he was Tara's brother. And he knew everything about them. Even their secret handshake. I couldn't even begin to think what Mr. Scratch had done to Gabriel to get all that information. It was everything I had been afraid of in the recent weeks, starting from the second Prentiss said:

- "I've placed protective details on Hayden and Joy, Sofia and the babies, and Will and the boys. We need to assume that Mr. Scratch is targeting this entire team."

I refused to make eye contact with Spencer that minute, though I could feel him watching me. I knew our workline was dangerous, and things could get serious from one minute to the other. I just didn't need a reminder. So I did what I do best. I focused on work and refused to think of anything else until the case was solved.

Ironically, I became Tara's rock during the investigation. I remained by her side, or at the other side of the mirror while she interrogated Desmond. I repeated countless times how everything was going to get better. That we were going to find her brother Gabriel safe. I stayed with her father and buried any fear I had about my family's safety 'cause it was the right thing to do at work.

But I was getting fed up with what Scratch was doing to our team. He was making me feel a fear I didn't know before, and he was pushing us, playing with us, and getting away with it every single fucking time. That's why, when we got ready to catch him and bring Gabriel back safely, all I kept thinking was killing that son of a bitch.

- "Please, chipmunk, be safe."- Spencer whispered as he checked on my bulletproof vest, the same way he did every time we were out on a mission.

- "You too, Batsy."

- "Always."- he replied and kissed the tip of my nose. I made sure his vest was secured as well and looked at him.

- "You are making dinner tonight, by the way."- I reminded him, just to get out of my head for a moment.

- "So we are eating take-out tonight"- he joked under his breath as the rest of the team gathered outside the elevator.

- "Healthy and balanced dinner for Raven. I'm expecting veggies, protein... Maybe some fruit."- but it wasn't the time or the place to be sweet. We had to focus. The elevator's door opened and we all got in but Tara. She had a short and emotive conversation with her father before stepping. As soon as the doors closed and we started descending, Emily said:

- "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm getting tired of losing to this rat-faced son of a bitch."- I turned to her and nodded, biting my lips not to curse, 'cos I knew Tara was going through hell, and we had to keep our shit together. - "He's not gonna take anyone else away from us, not on my watch. Am I clear?"

- "Yes boss."- I replied and Prentiss nodded at us.

- "Let's get to work."

Like every cliché unsub we had tracked, Mr. Scratch hid Gabriel in a warehouse. Who would have known they'd pick such an original location? We got there with a SWAT team, ready to deal with whatever trap that mother fucker had set for us. Spencer found out as soon as we cleared the perimeter where the controller of the main trap was. He just needed to figure out how to dismantle it, which did in a matter of minutes and we were lucky to bring Gabriel back safe and sound. However, we didn't get even close to catching Mr. Scratch, and my fears became stronger. That mother fucker was out there, and he knew who we were, our weaknesses, and how to get to us.

- "Mommy, can we go to the park?"- Raven asked me when we picked her up from my mom's that evening. We made it out early, and I wanted to enjoy every single second of the day with our babies.

- "Of course!"- I replied as Spencer secured her in her chair in the car, and I did the same with baby Vinny.

- "And then we could grab some ice cream."- my husband suggested.- "And maybe a new book to read before bed."

- "Yes!!"- our daughter has always been excited when it comes to a trip to the bookstore. She is very much like her dad, and I love that.

- "Are you available for dinner sometime this week?"- I read Frank's text as I sat behind the wheel, and Spencer looked at me almost scared.

- "Please don't tell me we have a case."

- "No, Frank wants to meet for dinner this week."

- "That'd be nice."- Spencer's answer surprised me. I don't know why I thought he wouldn't be in the mood to meet with the guys considering the stress we were under. - "We could use a fun evening with our friends."- which was true.

- "I love Uncle Frany!"- Raven yelled from the back seat, making me chuckle. Call me crazy, but knowing my daughter and my best friend had a close godfather/goddaughter relationship had always made me happy. Those are the sweet, beautiful things in life I didn't want anyone ruining. Never.

Spencer's point of view

I tried to keep my wife calm and happy. I kissed her and told her I loved her as many times as I could every day without transgressing any PDA rules at work. I cooked dinner three times a week, did every one of my chores, played and read bedtime stories to my children, went grocery shopping, and made love to my wife looking into her eyes and telling her how much I loved her. But work didn't help, and neither did reality. Life was getting harder, messy, and more challenging, no matter how hard I tried to make it all perfect.

Over a month after putting my mother into a new facility in Houston, Texas, to be part of an experimental group of investigation that had incredible research and promised to stop and basically heal patients with Alzheimer's, I got a call that ended my mental peace and brought me back to reality.

We were working on a case in Yakima, Washington. I was all alone in the police station, staring at the board with the information of the victims, waiting for (Y/N) to come back with Rossi from the field, where they were talking with the parents of the unsub's first victim. We were making progress, but we were against the clock, as usual. My head was going a hundred miles an hour, trying to think of ways to locate the unsub, until my phone rang. It was my mom.

- "Hi, Mom. I was gonna call you a little bit later. How are you..."

- "Spencer! You have to help me!"

- "What?"

- "They are missing! Someone took them!"- my mother's voice was frantic, almost hyperventilating.

- "Who's missing?"- I narrowed my eyes, trying to imagine who could be taken from a clinic, and how.

- "Pat and Grace! I haven't seen them in days! I need your team to help me find them!"

. "No, Mom. Pat and Grace live in Las Vegas. You're in Houston, at the Anderson clinic. We moved there last month, remember?"- I could feel my heart breaking as my mother spoke those words. She was having an episode. She was absolutely lost.

- "In... in Texas? I'm living in Texas?"- her confusion was palpable, as well as my defeat. She wasn't getting any better. If anything, she was worse.

- "Yeah, in Texas."

- "Oh... I'm sorry Spencer. I'm... not feeling very well, my head... maybe I should lay down for a while."

- "Absolutely. A nap sounds like a really great idea. Why don't you get a little bit of rest and I'm gonna call you back later, ok?"

- "Yes... how are the kids? Raven is going to school already?"

- "They are great, mom. I'll tell you everything later, ok? Just get some rest. I love you."

- "I love you too, honey."

I stared at the phone after I hung up, thinking - overthinking sound about right- about all the calls I had had with my mom in the last month. Until that second, I was sure she was doing better, but clearly, she wasn't. The complete opposite, in fact: my mother was having an episode and she sounded as lost as possible.

- "Is everything all right?"- JJ walked into the room holding two cups of coffee. I kept staring at the phone in my hands as she moved closer to me and gave me one of the cups.

- "It's my mom."- I confessed and placed the phone back in my pocket.- "She was confused. There she was and she was convinced that her friends had been kidnapped. She wanted us to investigate."

- "Spence, I'm sorry."- she whispered and stared at me with honest sadness.

- "This was my biggest fear, you know, about getting her into the clinical trial. I think she's getting a placebo."- it wasn't something I would talk about much at the moment, but right there, I just needed to get that off my chest 'cos it was shocking, and it hurt like a stab in the heart.

- "But you said she was getting better."- JJ moved even closer and kept her eyes on mine.

- "She was. Or I... I was... I don't know, I was fooling myself into thinking that. Maybe I wanted to believe it so much that I was experiencing the placebo effect, too."- I rambled thinking I had been a fool.

- "Is there anything I can do?"

- "I don't know."- I sighed and felt JJ wrapping her arm around me. So I hugged her back and felt like a failure. No matter what I did, I just couldn't help my mom.

- "I'm so sorry, Spence."

- "Hell...o."- (Y/N) opened the door and stared at us hugging. Rossi walked along with her and raised both eyebrows. JJ let me go and stared at my wife in panic like she caught us doing something awful, I don't know why.

- "Everything ok?"- David asked and I shook my head.

- "I just..."- I opened my mouth and kept my eyes on my wife, who looked like she needed an explanation. - "I just got a call from my mom, she was having an episode."

- "What? Seriously?"- (Y/N) seemed as affected as I was by the news.

- "Could you... excuse us for a second?"- I moved to her and held her hand as I walked her out of the room, to a more private place. Rossi and JJ nodded and didn't say a thing, but JJ smiled at me sadly when I looked at her before I closed the door behind my back.

- "What happened? What did she say?"- my wife asked and sat on a desk in the bullpen of the police station. I stood close to her, staring at my hands, and biting my lips, trying not to cry.

- "She thought her friends were taken hostage. She didn't know where she was, she thought it was Las Vegas. I hadn't heard her so lost in months..."

- "Honey..."- my wife wrapped her arms around my waistline and moved me closer to her body. I rested my head on hers and simply sighed. - "You should put an eye on her."

- "I know..."

- "Maybe you could bring her home. Take care of her until we decide what to do next."

- "We have a baby and a toddler. You are under enough stress, I could never..."- (Y/N)'s eyes stopped me from saying another word. She moved and looked at me with such love and care I nearly cry

- "Remember when I said "In sickness and health" while getting married? It didn't just mean your health, but our family as well."

- "Technically, you didn't say that. We wrote our own votes, and you quoted Emily Bronte."- I argued and made her roll her eyes.- "I don't wanna put you through something that I know won't be easy, chipmunk."

- "We are not together just when things are easy, we are stronger when life gets shitty."- my wife whispered and lodged a small kiss on my lips.

- "What did I do to deserve you?"- the question wasn't meant to be said out loud, I just asked myself the same thing at least once every day.

- "You deserve all the good things that happen to you, Spencer."- (Y/N) replied and caressed my cheek as she stood in front of me. - "Now let's work and we'll talk to Prentiss when the case is solved."

We were lucky to wrap up the case in a few hours, so as we flew back home, I made two cups of coffee and walked to our Unit Chief to do the unthinkable.

- "Coffee?"- my voice shook as I stood by her seat and handed her a cup.

- "Oh, you are a lifesaver."- Prentiss replied with a warm smile and I sat in front of her, rearranging the words in my head in the process. And, of course, she noticed.- "What's going on?"

- "I need to take some time off."- my voice was soft as I went straight to the point. I wanted to explain to her what had happened with my mother while she was gone, but at the same time, I didn't want to share more than what I had to with her.

- "Ok. When?"

- "As soon as we get back."- my reply surprised her, her jaw dropped and she kept blinking, processing what I was saying. - "I normally wouldn't do this, especially with everything we have going on and the new agent, but it's my mom. I don't think the clinical trials are helping her."

- "Spence, I'm so sorry."- Em whispered and her hand found mine as she tried to comfort me.

- "I need to see for myself what's happening in Houston, and, you know, talk to the doctors, try to figure out what's next."

- "As you should. Did you talk to (Y/N) about this?"

- "Yes."

- "Are you going alone?"

- "Yes, she has to stay with the kids, and help the team."- Prentiss nodded. I think she could read on my face and gesture how I didn't want my wife to carry the burden of my mother's disease.

- "Listen, we'll be fine. And we'll support (Y/N) with the kids. You take as long as you need."

- "Thank you."- it was the only thing I seemed to be able to say.

- "I have one condition. I need you to check in every day, no matter what. I need to know you're ok."

- "It's understood."- tears filled my eyes and threatened to fall as I fought to keep them at bay. I didn't want to cry in front of Emily, or in front of anyone. I just wanted to get home and put an eye on my mother.

(Y/N) knew I was keeping things to myself. That's why that night, after our babies were in bed, she wrapped her arms and legs around me as we lay on our bed and I immediately buried my head on her chest.

- "You are not alone, Spencer. I love you."- she whispered and kept running her fingers through my hair very slowly.- "Please, let me in."

- "I'm just worried about my mom."- I whispered and bit my tongue.

- "Remember last time something really bad happened and we thought Emily was dead?"- oh no.- "You tried to be the man you thought I needed, kept all your emotions to yourself, and ended up getting Dilaudid behind my back."

- "Chipmunk, I'm not getting Dilaudid."

- "I know, I know. I'm just saying... I don't want you to think you have to be strong for me. I just want you to share how you feel, the way I tell you when life is too shitty for me."- I stayed quiet, all I could hear was the beat of her heart against my ear as she held me close. I knew I had to let my wife in, but I was still very scared she was going to think I was weakling.

- "I don't want to overwhelm you."- that was the best I could do.

- "Give it a try."- she replied.- "I'm with the FBI. I've seen shit."- she replied and I chuckled for a second. She kept me close to her, making me feel like she was able to keep me together. - "We were best friends for many years before we became a couple, and back then you used to tell me everything. Don't hold yourself back now. I'm here to help you, to love you, no matter what."

Those were the words that broke me. I could feel my walls going down as the tears started falling from my eyes.

- "I don't... I don't know how to fix this."- I finally confessed and simply sobbed in my wife's arms, not knowing what else to say, or do. I had no idea what to do with my life, with everything. What was the use of being so smart if I couldn't help the ones I loved? It was so frustrating and unfair.

- "It's ok, honey bunny."- my wife kissed my forehead and wrapped her arms tighter around me.- "Just let it all out."

I don't know how long I cried in my wife's arms. A part of me felt it was embarrassing, but honestly, it actually made me feel better. I did as she asked and let it all out. All the tears and all the fears.

- "It's just so unfair."- I whispered once I had calmed down a little. (Y/N) had her arms locked around my body and I hid in her neck. - "She already has a mental disease, why did she have to get a second one? Life has been hard enough for her! Now I have to sit here and just watch all of our memories together fade away forever."

- "I'm so sorry, honey."- my wife kissed my face and held me tighter.- "I'm so sorry this had to happen to you."

- "And it's just worse knowing it could be my fate as well."- I confessed and felt like crying again.- "I mean, it's in my genes, like schizophrenia, and we would never know until I start showing the first signs. Or I could have passed it to our babies... and one day they'd..."

- "Shhh, don't go there, honey. Don't. There is nothing we can do about it, not about you, or about our kids. It is what it is and we can't change it."

- "But this is not what you deserve!"- I whined and started sobbing again.- "This is not what I wanted to give you."

- "But I wanted you. All of you. Not just the good part. The hot doctor with all the answers. I wanted this other side too." - I didn't know what to say, so I just sighed and cried as she held me.

- "I wish..."- I whispered after a few seconds.- "Things were easier."

- "We can't complain."- she replied and I could almost hear her sweet smile as she spoke softly.- "So far, we've had fun. We've been healthy, we have smart babies, we've got the chance to travel. We have friends who love and support us. We just need to get a bigger place and we would be peachy."- I chuckled between tears at that last remark.

- "You really wanna move?"

- "Don't act all innocent, we've talked about this before."

- "I know..."- I replied and moved from her neck to look her in the eyes.- "I still have to make peace with the idea of leaving this apartment. But I know we will have to do it eventually"- and she just nodded.

- "We don't have to figure it out all tonight, honey bunny."- and she kissed the tip of my nose. - "How about you try to get some sleep now? You have an early flight tomorrow."- I nodded and sighed as she cuddled me underneath the covers of our bed.

- "I love you so much, ma cherie."

- "I love you more, honey bunny. Thank you for trusting me. I will always be here to help you. No matter what. You don't have to carry any burden on your own."

And as hard as it is for me to realize, she was right. I wasn't alone.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Spencer's departure to Houston wasn't easy. We both knew what he was going to face during that trip, and it was clearly something for longer than just a weekend. Mom helped with the kids, as she usually did, plus Garcia and Emily were my rocks. They took care of the little things I didn't have much time for, like packing my own lunch, helping me clean and even changing a few diapers.

- "I'm not sure this is why you moved from London"- I said to Prentiss one morning she showed up earlier to give me a hand getting the kids ready.

- "I mean, changing baby clothes with vomit wasn't on this year's bingo card, but I'm not complaining."- Em replied as she held Vincent in her arms after finally getting him dressed and we walked to the kitchen.

- "I'm sorry."

- "(Y/N), please. I love to help. It's extra time we get together, and I feel like I've missed so much in the last few years."- Prentiss kissed Vincent's cheek a few times and added- "Garcia kept me updated with the news, but it's not the same as watching your kids grow up. I mean... you and Spencer have two kids already! I feel like it was yesterday you two were in denial of your feelings and we had to push you to face them."

- "Those were the days."- I said as Raven ran into the kitchen holding her bag and opened her arms to me.

- "Up mama!!"

- "Are you ready for school, Birdy?"

- "Yes!"

- "Let's make sure I packed all of your favorite snacks then, and we'll be ready to go."

- "When is dada coming back?"- Raven asked as she wrapped her arms around my neck and rested her head on my chest, completely melted.

- "He will come back very soon, birdy. We should call him tonight and make sure he knows how much we miss him."- I kissed the top of her head, and added some more apple slices with peanut butter in her lunch bag.

- "Can we ask him to read us a bedtime story tonight?"- Raven asked innocently, as she stayed in my arms.

- "Sure! Now let's go to the car before we are too late."

Emily helped me load the car, lunches, kids, and my go bag, which I knew wasn't going to be of any use while Spencer was out of town. I was staying in Quantico, helping from my desk until my husband was back from Texas.

- "See you in a while at the BAU."- my friend said with a big grin after waving goodbye to my kids. - "I have to help Stephen with some paperwork. He is still getting used to this new position."

- "Bye Em, thank you"

Stephen Walker had joined the team the day Spencer left for Houston. He had been transferred from the Behaviour Analysis Program, the BAP. He was charming, with over 20 years of experience working for the Bureau, and a friend of both Prentiss and Rossi. They were thrilled to have him, especially if we considered we were one agent down and I couldn't join them on the field.

Besides, he helped through a very shitty time in the BAU: Rossi's birthday. The man hated that date, and each year we tiptoed around it. That year was even worse considering Tommy Yates, the serial killer he had a deal with on his birthday, was out on the loose. He was supposed to give Rossi the name and location of one victim every day on that date every year, ergo why Papa Pasta hated that date so much. Yates had killed over 40 victims that we knew, but he claimed it had been over 100. I think Rossi felt guilty not to get more names and give peace to the families of so many missing girls. That year, Yates started killing again around Rossi's birthday, and instead of going back to jail, he ended up dead in David's backyard.

I'm sure Rossi will never enjoy his birthday. He will always think of the lives he couldn't save. I get that feeling. No matter how many lives we actually save.

- "Chipmunk, I don't know if I can do this"- Spencer whispered at the other side of the line. He had been gone for two weeks and we were both exhausted. I was lying on our bed, Raven was asleep, softly snoring next to me and Vicent was in my arms as I breastfed him one more time.

- "Why don't you bring her here?"- I suggested one more time. I had told him to do that at least five times since he was away, but he always refused.

- "I told you, it would be too much work."

- "We can handle it! She is my family too and I wanna help."

- "I know, ma cheriè but..."

- "But what?"- Spencer sighed at the other side of the line, clearly trying to gather the right words to explain his mind.

- "I don't think it's fair."- he finally whispered, and that was not what I was expecting to hear.

- "Fair?"

- "Yes..."

- "Life isn't fair, Spencer. You know that."

- "But having to take care of my mother it's not what... it's not the life I wanna give you."- it was a little heartbreaking hearing that. No matter what I did, Spencer still couldn't understand I was there for him, through sickness and health.

- "So you think we are just taking care of your mother?"- I asked him and chuckled.- "Spencer Walter Reid, one day my mom will be sick and old and we will have to take care of her as well, and probably my father too, 'cos Phoenix would never be that kind of son."

- "I am not sure it's the same thing, chipmunk."

- "Hey! My parents could have an awful old age!"- I joked and I could almost hear him smiling as he said

- "It's not a competition, baby"

- "I know it's not! I'm just trying to make you understand this is not a one-way. It's not just me helping you with your mother, we are a team, and we tackle these issues together. Today it's Diana, tomorrow Sofia, who knows!"

- "What about the babies?"

- "What about them?"- I whispered and looked at them. Raven was still asleep, hugging the stuffed unicorn Mikey had gotten her and Vincent was slowly falling asleep against my breast.

- "Having my mom around would make things harder for us and for them as well."

- "We can manage. We are a team. We handle far worse things at work daily. And we can hire a caretaker for your mom. That way she wouldn't be alone while we are out."- there was silence on the line for a few seconds. Spencer was most likely trying to think of all the scenarios that could happen. Until he finally whispered.

- "You are not gonna let this go, are you?"

- "I'm never going to stop fighting to help you, especially when you are being stubborn."- I smiled and bit my lip thinking I just wanted to have him back home as soon as possible so I could hug him and kiss him.

- "I love you, Mrs. Reid."

- "I love you too, Mr. Reid."

Spencer came back on a Thursday. He and Diana took a cab home while I was at work. I got some groceries to make dinner and picked up the kids from my mother's. We turned Vinny's nursery into a guest bedroom for Diana, considering our baby wasn't using it at the moment. We were going to be cramped, but maybe it was the way I could finally convince Spencer to move into a bigger place. A house outside town, where our kids would ride their bikes and play with their friends like I had done growing up.

- "Dada!!"- Raven ran to Spencer as soon as I opened the front door, carrying Vincent and the groceries with me.

- "Birdy! Look at you!"- he held her in his arms and lifted her from the ground, kissing her cheeks and wrapping his arms around her. - "I missed you, Raven."

- "Missed you too, dada"

- "Guess you were just asking for you."- Spencer rushed to me and grabbed the baby carrier with baby Vinny in it from my hands and kissed my lips, still carrying Raven in his arms. He was literally holding his entire family at the same time.

- "Welcome home."- I whispered and hummed against his lips as I felt him smile.

- "Where is my beautiful granddaughter?"- Diana's voice took us back to reality. Raven nearly jumped from Spencer's arms and ran to Diana.

- "Memaw!!"

- "Raven Marie Reid, when did you get so tall? You are the most beautiful little girl I've ever seen!"- I smiled as I looked at the sweet scene in front of me. Diana kissed our daughter's cheek and turned to me with one bright smile that slowly turned into a frown.

- "I'm so happy to see you again Diana."- I said with a big smile before I noticed how bad things were going.

- "Whose baby is that?"- she pointed at Vincent with harsh eyes.- "Did you have another baby and never told me? Why are you excluding me?"

- "Mom, mom"- Spencer took a step closer to Diana and softly moved Raven out of the way.- "This is Vincent Spencer Reid, our baby. You've met him before. We actually went on a trip together."

- "Don't try to play me for a fool, Spencer. I had never seen that baby before!"- I moved my arm and grabbed Raven's hand as she looked at the scene unfolding in front of her in pure confusion.

- "Come on Birdy, memaw is tired from the trip. Let's go to your room and play for a while before we make dinner."- she didn't question me, which I will always be thankful for. I walked with her and Vinny and left Spencer alone with his mother, to help her clear her head. If it was even possible.

That brief moment was the first approach to how difficult the following weeks were going to get.

Spencer's point of view

Dealing with my mother was harder than I imagined. And I had imagined the worst. The first night she didn't recognize Vincent and for a solid hour, she argued I had been lying and keeping her in the dark about my family 'cos I was ashamed of her. Ashamed as the time I had put her away in the mental facility when I was eighteen.

And it didn't get easier from there.

While I was away, (Y/N) interviewed some caretakers and selected three. The first one I hired lasted one morning and left before I could even leave the house to get some groceries. She claimed my mother was impossible, and that she couldn't help her. It didn't matter how much I begged and promised she would be good, that poor woman stormed out of the apartment and never looked back.

The second one lasted two days. I was hopeful and even decided to return to work. That morning, Mom looked great. The caretaker arrived and we left to drop the kids at daycare and then drove to work. Me and my wife felt hopeful things were going to work out. We were trying our best, of course, things had to go well.

- "I'm gonna get you a nice cup of coffee."- (Y/N) said as soon as she left her things on her desk, right in front of mine. - "I missed having you here."

- "Trust me, I missed the sight from my desk the most."- I held her hand and stole a small peck from her lips before she walked to the kitchenette, smiling and blushing. I followed her with my eyes for a few seconds before I started unpacking my bag.

- "Hey! Welcome back!"- JJ's voice took me from my task. She sounded happy to see me as I turned around and gave her a bone-crushing hug.

- "I missed you so much!"- I said with a big smile and then turned to her companion. - "You must be Walker"

- "It's great to finally meet you"- he said with a warm smile- "Your wife and the team talk so much about you, Dr. Reid."

- "Please, just call me Spencer. And it's great to finally meet you too, I've heard nothing but wonderful things from you. (Y/N) told me how much of a great addition to the team you've been."- I turned to look at my wife, who was still in the kitchenette, now talking with Anderson.

- "Speaking of wonderful things, how is your mom doing?"

- "She is ok, you know. We have good days and bad days."

- "So, are you still going to Houston to visit her on the weekends?"- but before I could explain there was no need for me to do that anymore, 'cos she was living with us, my cell phone rang.

- "Excuse me"- I said to JJ as I quickly picked up.- "Dr. Reid here."

- "Dr Reid, I need you to come back home! Your mother flooded the entire apartment!"

- "What?"

- "She keeps saying I'm spying on you, and she is locked in the bathroom!"

- "All right, stay there. I'll be right..."

- "Please hurry!"

- "I'm on my way, ok? Thanks."- I didn't even turn to JJ or Stephen, I just mumbled "Sorry, guys, I have to go," as I ran to my wife and grabbed her arm.- "There's an emergency and I have to go home."

- "What happened?"- her eyes were wide opened in a second, alarmed

- "Mom flooded the apartment. The caretaker called me."

- "I'm coming with you!"- but before she could start walking to her desk to grab her thighs, I held her hand and stopped her.

- "No, chipmunk. I'll take care of this.

- "Shit! Take the car!"- she ran to her purse and brought me the keys.- "And if anyone asks, I'll tell them a pipe broke in our apartment, ok?"- I nodded as I felt her hands on my face and her lips on mine, for a short second.

- "Love you."

- "Me too"- she whispered and smiled as I started running again, making my way back home.

The entire place was a disaster. I had to talk with our downstairs neighbors and compromise on paying for any flood damage in their place. The caretaker quit, arguing my mom had threatened to kill her. And my mother had a crisis. I don't think I had ever seen her act that way. She wasn't herself anymore. Clearly, no med was helping her.

- "Is she gone?"- Mom rushed out of the room, almost hyperventilating.

- "Mom, what did you say to her?"

- "She was trying to get information from me. Kept asking questions!"- the way mom slammed our front door and stood against it, like stopping anyone from entering the place (though I knew no one was trying to do it) was... not the worst that happened that day.

- "Of course she was. She's supposed to!"- it was ten in the morning, and I was already losing my patience.

- "I told you to be careful about the people you bring into this house. There are spies everywhere!"- I sighed as I stood in front of her, trying to calm myself down.

- "She's not a spy. She was here to help you."

- "Shh! She might still be out there listening."- she whispered, nearly in tears. She was worse than dealing with my kids, and she was my mother. I had to take several deep breaths to stop me from yelling- "Don't ever let her come back in here again, please. Promise me!"

- "I will promise you that because she is never coming back! She walked out!"- and even though I tried, I ended up screaming anyway, 'cos after a few days, my mom was already driving me crazy.

- "Good. Because we can only trust each other now. Nobody else. Just you and me."

I stared at my mother as she opened the door and peeked out to the hall, to make sure no one was there, spying on us. I already knew delusions may occur in middle- to late-stage Alzheimer's. Confusion and memory loss can contribute to these untrue beliefs, but one thing is knowing the theory and another very different is dealing with your mother in that state.

(Y/N) and I had talked about what to do in that kind of situation. How to handle a crisis. I knew I didn't have to take offense. I had to listen to and try to understand Mom's reality. Never argue or try to convince her. Instead, I had to acknowledge her opinions. But at that minute, all I could think of was "What am I putting my children and my wife through?"

Saying that things were going to be harder than I thought was an understatement. Apparently, I had been in the dark about how bad things were getting for her Alzheimer's... or I had been in denial for a very long time. The second option was more likely the correct answer, though I didn't want to recognize it.

But as they say, denial is not only a river in Egypt. Back then I was sure I could help cure my mother's disease one way or another. I just needed to put my mind to it. I had already gone to the extreme with this thought. Bringing my mother home, going behind my wife's back, and traveling to Mexico with my personal passport instead of my FBI documents to get her some alternative medicine. I was all over the place, and it was showing.

Mom went to her room and I continued cleaning the water mess in our living room. Some of my books were ruined, and some of the kid's toys were all wet. It was overall, a massive chaos I didn't want my wife to witness. And yet, I knew keeping it from her was way worse.

- "Hey honey. How are things going back home?"- (Y/N)'s sweet voice on the other side of the line made me relax my shoulder muscles immediately, almost in relief.

- "It's..."- I looked around and sighed- "It's bad."

- "How bad?"

- "Andrea, the caretaker, quit as soon as I got here."

- "At least she waited for you to get there."- my wife whispered, trying to make me smile, I think.

- "She was the third to leave us in a week."

- "We just haven't found the right one."

- "Stop being so positive, please."

- "What do you want me to say, honey? "Take your mom back to Hustoun?" No way! We are doing all we can to help her! We knew this wasn't going to be easy, and she is just settling in."- my wife paused and sighed.- "Shit, JJ heard me."

- "Where are you?"

- "On the jet. We are going to Tampa."

- "Oh shit, we've got a case."- I rubbed my hand against my face, thinking I was failing the team and my family at the same time.

- "We do."

- "Ok, can I be on speaker during the briefing?"

- "Turn on the computer, I'll have you patch in on video call with Garcia."

- "Thank you, ma cherie."

- "I miss you."- she whispered and my lips curled up in a tiny smile as soon as I heard her.

- "Me more."- I replied in a lower voice and took a deep breath.

- "Me most. But right now, by the way, JJ is looking at me, I'm guessing I have to explain to the team what is going on back home."

- "Ok chipmunk. I'll be here, waiting for the briefing. Love you."

- "Love you too. Take good care of Diana."

As soon as I picked down the phone, the anxiety kicked in again. That whole day, my entire body didn't seem to relax. I was on edge. My mother stepped from one emotion to another. Each time I talked to her, I didn't know who I was going to deal with. Before I took the call from work for the briefing, she reappeared in the living room and apologized for making that mess.

- "Your books are ruined. And the kid's toys too.."

- "It's ok."

- "No it's not. That's not the grandma I wanted to be for them." - she sighed, holding Raven's soaking teddy in her hands. It broke my heart 'cause I knew she hadn't done it on purpose.

- "You want to maybe lie down for a little while and get some rest?

- "Yes, that's a good idea, honey. I need rest."

But an hour later, when she came back from her nap she was absolutely lost and angry. She didn't recognize her own scrapbook. The one she started in high school. Her eyes were fearful and angry, and her hands kept shaking. She knew who I was, but didn't trust me completely. It was so painful I did the only thing I could think of.

- "It's time for your medicine."- and by medicine, I meant the experimental drugs I had gotten in Mexico behind my wife's back from a doctor I met in Houston, named Nadine Ramos.

- "No. No. It tastes terrible. What if it's poison?"- Mom started arguing right away, and I had to hold both her hands to try to calm her down.

- "Mom, it's not poison. Remember when you first started taking it in Texas? It helped. You felt so good that we were able to go on that trip to San Antonio."- she just stared at me, with a blank expression on her face. I used my softest voice, to try and help her calm down.- "It's not poison. Just wait right here."- I added and walked quickly to my and (Y/N)'s room. I had hidden the bottles in a sock in my drawer, which was clearly a sign I was doing something wrong by keeping it a secret. I added three drops to a glass of orange juice and gave it to her. Mom just stared at me, suspicious. Like I would poison her.

- "Are you going to stand there and watch me?"- she asked seriously

- "Yes."- I replied and smiled at her, 'cos there was a part of it all that was funny. My grown-up mother acted exactly like my four-year-old daughter would. She drank the whole glass, looking disgusted by it, and then opened her mouth to show me she had swallowed it all.

- "You don't have to do that."- I almost chuckled as she did, but then, she broke my heart.

- "Of course I do. I have to do whatever you want."- and just like that, she locked herself in her room again.

While she was away working on a case, (Y/N) called the agency and managed to get another caretaker to come home for an interview with me for the position. Of course, my mother was a complete disaster around her, threw a tantrum and left, slamming the door behind her back as she left me talking on my own.

Luckily, nurse Cassie Cambel was an angel, and decided to take the position and help us with my mother despite the awful first impression mom made. She was aware of how challenging things were and didn't hesitate. She even said she would get someone to take the night shifts. She gave me hope. I called my wife as soon as she was gone and gave her the good news. Then worked the case for a while and talked to the team, because no matter what was happening at home, we were still trying to catch a serial killer.

And it was all good for a good hour until I realized there was something odd going on, Mom had been quiet for too long. That's always a bad sign with the kids, and I figured it was also a bad sign with my mother.

When I finally found her, locked in our ensuite bathroom, she was throwing the medicine I had struggled to get in Mexico for her.

- "Mom, don't do that! Don't do that! Stop that!"- I nearly jumped and tried to take the bottles from her hands, but the liquid was mostly gone.

- "Leave me alone! Stop, stop! Give it back to me! Ohh!"- Mom was yelling and fighting as if her life was in danger. I fought to stop her, but it was useless. We ended up fighting for them on the bathroom floor. I didn't want to hurt her, but she kept holding onto those glass bottles and screaming. She finally gave up but stood up and ran to the door, trying to escape our apartment. I followed her and stopped her by the door. I grabbed her waist and then her wrist, trying to make some sense of what was happening.

- "Mom! Why did you do that? Why?!"

- "I hate that stuff! And I hate you!"- she yelled with so much anger that if I didn't know how sick she was, I would have been brokenhearted.

- "Do you have any idea what I went through to get that medicine, Mom?"- I yelled at her with the same amount of anger for a second, but I did my best to gather myself and try to talk to her in a softer tone. - "It can't be replaced. Do you realize that?"

- "Good! I want to go back home!"- she yelled as tears of desperation started falling from her eyes

- "This is home!"

- "No, it isn't! I want to go back to where I was before!"- she pleaded, like a little girl

- "You said you hated Houston!"- I screamed, frustrated by the entire conversation.

- "No, I want to go back to where I was before before! Before!"- she let go of my hands aggressively and slapped me right on the cheek. She stared at me with such anger, that I knew she wasn't herself. Still, it hurt. She raised her hand to hit me again and I stayed still, not arguing, not fighting back. Leaving my cheek right there, so she could hit me one more time, and all the times she'd like.

Some things never change. Especially the bad ones, I guess. When I was a kid, I had grown used to her episodes. How she sometimes hurt me. I knew she didn't mean to, so I never held any hard feelings against her. But it was a painful flashback of my childhood. One I didn't want my kids to grow up with.

During our fight, I managed to save one tiny bottle of medicine. One wasn't going to help much, which meant I had to get more. I didn't know if that medicine was actually helping her. I didn't know what could. The fact was, I was desperate and I would have done anything to help bring my mother back to herself.

If that had happened a few years earlier, when I was still single, still living on my own, I would have flown to Mexico in the blink of an eye, no questions asked. But at that moment, "anything" had some limits. And those limits came with my wife and my two kids. I had to think carefully about what I was going to do next. 'Cos I couldn't hurt them.

My phone buzzed on the table and I sighed. We were still working on a case, and I had to focus. But I was wronged. It wasn't case-related. It was JJ.

- "I'm here whenever you need someone to talk to."- I read those words and replied "Thank you" text and stared at her words on the screen for a little while. I knew things hadn't been easy in the last few years, but it felt so good to have a friend like JJ and a family in the BAU. At least we weren't alone. I knew my wife was with them and they were going to support and comfort her. Us. They got our backs.

- "Well, that was just what I needed."- my mother's voice took me from my thoughts. She walked out of the hall and smiled at me. I looked at her, confused from the dining room table, where I was trying to get some work done.

- "Uhmm..."

- "My nap. It really did the trick."- she explained and gasped, standing next to a couch. - "Oh, my goodness. My scrapbook. Oh, I've been keeping this since I don't know when. I have no idea how it got here.

I just stared at her in silence. She seemed to be herself. She knew who I was, and where she was and even got excited to see her old scrapbook. Was it the medicine? Was it the nap? What made that change?

- "Ohh, honey. What did you do to your face? It's all red."- and she had no recall of what had happened

- "Probably bumped into something."- I used the same old excuse I always used when she noticed any bruises on me growing up.

- "Oh, you need to be more careful. It's really awful."- she carefully touched my face as she sweetly smiled, and stood in front of me, holding her scrapbook close.

- "I will."- I whispered

- "You know, you always were so clumsy. Smart as a whip. But I used to call you Crash. You were always bumping into things."- mom told me the story of how I hid how much she hurt me from her, and walked to the closest couch. I stared at her, trying to understand why this was happening to her, and how I could stop it. What was the use of being so smart if I couldn't help my own mother?

- "Honey, what is this?"- she asked after a few minutes in silence.

- "Oh, it's a ticket stub."- I said as I sat next to her on the sofa arm

- "What is that?"

- "A ticket stub? When you go to a concert or a movie you get a ticket so they'll let you in. (Y/N) has a large collection with all the ticket stubs of the shows she has been to."

- "Maybe I could help her make a scrapbook with those."- Mom suggested and smiled at me- "She is so sweet, letting me stay here with you and the kids."

- "I'm sure she'd like that."- I replied and kissed the top of her head. She turned the page and kept staring at her memories.

- "You saw Elvis in concert?"- I asked her, surprised. That sounded like a good story I had never heard.

- "I don't know. I did many things when I was young."- she simply replied. - "Who is he?"

- "Elvis Presley."- I explained, disappointed that her memory was failing again. - "He's a very famous rock and roll singer."- all her memories were fading and I couldn't stop it even if I tried. What a failure of a genius son.

- "Ah! Oh, my gosh!"- she got incredibly excited all of a sudden and pointed at the cutting of a tightrope walker with something glued to it. - "I'd almost forgotten about this!"

- "What is that?"- her excitement made me smile, I hadn't seen my mother that happy the entire day.

- "When you were a little boy, I took you to the circus, and after that, all you could talk about was that you wanted to be a tightrope walker when you grew up."- that story didn't ring any bell in my head.

- "I thought I wanted to be a magician."

- "You did. That was later. This was first."

- "Really? I don't remember that at all."- was she making it up? Was it real? I wanted to think she knew exactly what she was talking about.

- "Oh, no wonder. You were no more than 3 or 4!"

- "What's on its head?"- I asked her, pointing at the scrap. And she just laughed.

- "It's you!"

- "That's me?"- I moved to take a closer look, and yes, it was a tiny picture of me, glued to the clipping.

- "Yes. You glued that on there yourself."

- "Why did I do that?"

- "Well, here."- Mom grabbed my hand and showed me my wrist. - "See this little scar right there on your wrist? That's from when you fell when you were trying to balance on our backyard fence. You were so determined to make it the whole way. And I'll never forget looking out the kitchen window, watching you out there as you were trying to make a balancing pole from a broomstick. Calculating how long it should be and making adjustments. My little budding genius."

Mom caressed my arm as she told me that story, and it warmed my heart hearing her telling it in so much detail as she could actually see me. And the fact she had said the words "I'll never forget" as if it was some kind of promise. Like she could decide which memories she could keep and which ones to let go.

- "Did I ever make it?"- I asked her, I needed to know more about that story.

- "No. And you were heartbroken. You see, the problem was, you were so smart, you were so brilliant, you really believed that you could solve anything if you just put your brain into it. But that tightrope... No, you just couldn't figure that out. But you were meant for bigger things, Spencer. Now, how do you tell that to a 4-year-old boy?"

How could I tell that to my 35-year-old self? There are things I can't figure out, no matter how smart. Maybe I should have made my peace with that thought earlier.

Later that night, I brought my mom a cup of tea when she was already in bed. And she didn't know who I was. I didn't know how I was going to do it. Help her and keep my own mental sanity in the process. How much should I tell my wife? She was going to find out anyway, no questions asked. I shouldn't keep her in the dark, life had shown me that had always been the wrong path to follow.

I don't know what time it was when I felt (Y/N)'s hand on my arm. I had fallen asleep on a rocking chair close to the bed and had tied one end of a scarf on mom's wrist and the other to mine, so I would know if she moved. My wife smiled at me and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

- "Welcome home."- I whispered and caressed her cheek. - "I missed you."

- "Me too, hon..."- she hummed and kissed me one more time. - "Wanna have a cup of tea and tell me about your day?"

- "Why don't you get some rest first? You are just getting home..."- I whispered and untied the scarf from my wrist to walk her out of the room. - "Where are the kids?"

- "I asked my mom to take care of them for the night. I was coming late and I didn't want to take them out in the middle of the night."

- "That was a good choice."

- "So, how was your day? And be honest."- my wife stood in front of me and I just sighed.

- "It was... challenging."

- "You can give me the real version, Spencer Walter Reid, I can take it."- (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she stood in front of me, in the middle of the hall. I tried to find the right words to explain to my wife about my day. But as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, I broke down into tears and fell into her arms. 

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[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 2

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Minors DNI.

Summary: You are an old acquaintance of Rebecca Wilson. She calls in a favor to help the BAU out of a financial debacle. This also means that the current CIA employed Reader has to consult with the BAU to make this work, and not just on paper. This has to be official, which means working with a disgruntled Section Chief Emily Prentiss. A lot.

First time writing like this, so any feedback is appreciated!

AO3

Chapter 1

Word Count: 3.4k

Chapter 2 - Why Do I Even Bother?

Emily stares blankly at you, digesting this ironic twist of fate that has landed in her lap.

Someone was joining the unit that she didn’t authorize. She could have laughed at the absurdity of it all if she wasn’t so angry right now.

And now, I know how Hotch felt …

When she joined the BAU, there was so much work drama after Greenaway left that the section chief at the time approved her transfer without letting Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner know. Emily had unknowingly become a potential pawn of Strauss to spy on the BAU.

Which didn’t improve her opinion of you. You said all the right words and felt genuine, but this wasn’t sitting right with Emily. What was in it for you? A CIA special agent had more important things to do than moonlight with the FBI. She didn’t even know what skills you had to assist the team in their line of work. Hell, she didn’t even know you existed until today and here Rebecca was vouching for you or you wouldn’t be here. Tara trusted Rebecca and Rebecca trusted you. Should Emily?

In her head, Emily wants to convince herself that both of your odd recruitments into the BAU are different. That you both wanted to be in the BAU and there was no malicious intent. But Emily only knew her motivation. Not yours.

She was trying to make sense of it. The drama in the BAU was not as earth shattering as the fallout with Greenaway. She was dealing with post pandemic political shakes up and Rossi’s mental state.

At least I got my office back and Dave’s back home…

Instead of Strauss, she has a Bailey and Rebecca and you are adamant that there was no issue in making the deputy director upset. Both of you had come to her to explain the situation so she wouldn’t be blindsided by you consulting for the BAU. It isn’t like the AG just made it happen. She just approved of the plan to start the tricky process of how the money gets into the BAU budget. Which makes sense having you on the team. It is the easiest way on paper to expedite the resources instead of having you fill out all the paperwork needed to be granted your funds – which could take weeks considering the sum required. You certainly couldn’t just Zelle the money or cut the BAU a personal check since any government official or agency couldn’t accept gifts.

Ugh!

Emily’s silence was deafening. If she could kill you with the look of contempt she was directing your way, you would burst into flames and become a pile of ash that the section chief could happily walk over without a second thought.

“Look, I know you’re not happy,” you begin to say and Prentiss’ eyes narrow as if you were a child stating the obvious. That did not go over well with you but sniping back would only escalate the situation. And you really weren’t in the mood to go head to head with the unit chief in a verbal spar. Plus, it would make Rebecca mad. You didn’t want to ruin your friend’s reputation. “I’m not that happy either since I’m supposed to be on leave.”

Rebecca shot you an incredulous look you ignore. She was not buying for a second that you weren’t happy working with the FBI instead of taking the leave the CIA was forcing upon you. Prentiss certainly took notice of the reaction.

“And I wouldn’t like it either if someone was forced onto my team without my input. So,” you relax your stance and hold up your hands gesturing to Prentiss, “you make the call.”

“Hey!” Rebecca says, wondering what got into you. “Davis won’t like this if we wasted her time.”

You look at Rebecca and lightly shrug. She scoffs at you being nonchalant about the backlash.  “Seriously?”

“It’s Prentiss’ call,” you answer, looking back at her. Prentiss remains silent in thought, studying you. Her only movement was her right thumb and index finger toying with a knuckle on the other hand.

“Look, you can approve of me being here and getting the money. I’ll even sign whatever you want to make good on this. Rebecca can whip that up quick,” you say with a flourish of your hand towards her.

“Gee. Thanks for volunteering me.”

“You’re welcome,” you respond cheekily, but your eyes were still on Prentiss. “I’m sure you two can figure out a reasonable amount of time I’ll need to be on staff to make everyone happy on paper. Or …”

You shove your hands down your front jean pockets as you scrunch your shoulders. “… say the word, and I’m back on vacation. And … hopefully no hard feelings for this whole thing?”

The smile that you give her reaches your eyes, truly accepting either decision.

Emily opens her mouth to answer, her jaw slightly off center, momentarily taken aback with how yielding you were …

“And now I get to spend the rest of my night working on your damn contract,” grumbles Rebecca as you both walk down the stairs away from Prentiss’ office. She had her phone out, furiously typing away to let Tara know she was going to be late.

“Yeah, sorry about your plans.” The smile gave away your amusement. “But think about how happy your girlfriend will be that you saved the BAU’s ass.” You hip check her as you sing song. “I’m thinking you’re gonna get thank you sex for saving the BAU …”

She looks at you, eyes shifting slowly from irritation to delight. “Now that’s a good point.” She fires off another text to Tara and pockets her phone. “And what about you?”

You furrow your brows at the question. “What about me what? I’m not having sex with your girlfriend.”

“God! What is wrong with you?”

You laugh. “There are many theories.”

She can’t help laughing at that. “Fair point. But is there any special someone to celebrate with or you still flying solo?”

Now you throw your head back with a sharper laugh in response. “Yeah, no. Still very much a solo gig. Not like I’ve got time for it anyway. And don’t!” You playfully shove Rebecca when you scold her. “I hear your mind wind working overtime already. Don’t get any fucking ideas.”

“I’d never!” she replies with a shrewd wink as you both exit the bullpen to leave.

Emily watches both of you walk away with a familiar camaraderie from her office door, already beginning to regret her decision to sign you on as a consultant. Were you always going to be this loud and obnoxious? Much of your behavior had been superficial until you realized you had angered her with crack about her fake death. Of course, you behaved long enough for her to take you on and offer a quick, thank you ma’am before degrading into a joke again. She watched as you wiped your brow and breathed a sigh of relief at Rebecca, announcing you were worried Emily was going to say no for sec.

She closes the door as your laughter echoes through the empty bullpen along with Rebecca’s, wondering if she should consider reneging the offer a second time in the last thirty minutes. Silently she imagines a scenario that she follows after you and rips you to shreds for being so passionless to the plight of the BAU and caring only about fulfilling a debt.

Sitting down with a sigh, Emily rakes a hand through her silver locks before taking a healthy swallow of wine to settle herself. You irritated her, probably heightened by her mistrust of you. To combat this feeling to ensure the BAU runs smoothly, she will treat you like the asset you were. All activities of yours will be approved only through Emily as indicated by the contract Wilson would write up. Emily will be watching everything you do to make sure the team is protected and that means you will be working with her. Nothing will be authorized unless she was right there by your side. There will be no wildcards fucking up the fragile autonomy the BAU still has.

Which means I gotta get this clearance confirmation done …

She switches tabs to get to her email and starts drafting an official inquiry to confirm your credentials with CIA HR and clearance with the DCSA*.

Time to find out who you are Special Agent Whitlock.

The next morning Penelope Garcia was fully back to work with the BAU with boundaries. Lovely boundaries that kept her happy to help catch the bad guys without all the gruesome visuals and knowing she would do everything by the book. The team knew they couldn’t find this sicko without her, and she couldn’t let the team down, or know that more people would die because she wasn’t there to stop him. Or heaven forbid, her beautiful BAU babies disbanded by that meanie deputy director.

Her conscious had to remain clean.  Mr. Clean clean.

With her assertive demands understood by the unit, it made for a happy place in Penelope’s mind and heart as she works on compiling data from the unsubs phones in the Sicarius case. She bobbed her head to Bad Blood, by Taylor Swift, as her screens flashed with scrolling code.

There was a knock at her door.

“Enter plebian!” she calls out with a flourish of her hand.

“I think I’m a bit higher up than that, Pen.”

“Oh, Emily!” Penelope gasps as she turns around in her chair. Even with her boss smiling, she couldn’t help grimacing “I apologize, my liege, for besmirching your good name.”

“It’s fine. I assume you thought I was Luke?”

“Yes. He was supposed to bring me my smoothie! Big fail.”

“I’ll get on him for that, but I need a favor …”

“Favor may be granted if it aligns with my virtue,”

“Yes, it’s completely legal.” She leans against the desk as Garcia relaxes back in her chair. “I’m waiting on confirmation for a consultant I’m bringing on …”

Garcia’s eyes immediately lit up. and she squeals so loudly it echoes in the lair. “Eee! New blood! Who is it?!”

“Special Agent in the CIA.”

This perplexes Garcia. “Is Sicarius international now? I haven’t seen any data to suggest that he likes to play in foreign lands. So far, he’s a domesticated jerk.”

“No, nothing like that. She’s a friend of Wilson’s who’s helping out the BAU and keeping Bailey off my back, in a sense,” Emily admits.

“In a sense?” She looks Emily down the rim of her glasses, eyes widening with intrigue. “What aren’t you telling me oh fearless leader?”

Emily purses her lips as she points a finger at Penelope. “You’ll be briefed with the entire time when I’m ready? Ah!” she points a finger up to stop the woman’s inquiry. “Not a minute sooner. But I do have some fact finding I want done. “ 

She smiles knowingly and with promise. “You’ll get firsthand knowledge on our consultant before the team does.”

“Ah, Section Chief Emily Prentiss doesn’t want to wait for the official information to come through and wants moi to enlighten her.” She pouts, thinking, before looking serious. She points her pink fuzzy topped pen at Emily.  “I’ll only use official channels and regular back doors that happen to remain open for me.”

Emily holds her hands up in concession. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Penelope puts her pen down, satisfied with the answer and opens a new inquiry on the name Emily provide: Special Agent Y/N Whitlock.

Your feet pound the dirt surface adjacent to the C&O Canal for your morning run today. You had your hair pulled back in a loose bun, deciding to forgo the football cap. The trail has plenty of trees to provide shade, even on a sunny day.

The canal water reflects stone and tree in a still frame as the wind was barely a light breeze disturbing the surface. The only indication were water bugs dancing along the surface to disrupt the moment, small circles overlaying through one another as they ripple from middle to either side.

You are glad you opted for a light training jacket to keep protected against the morning chill despite wearing shorts. It gave you a comfortable warmth as you kept working up a sweat. Running helps to keep wandering thoughts at bay. Your mind focused on the impact of your sneakers against the soft ground, the chilly air you inhale and how it changes to a visible warm mist as you exhale. Breathing and moving. A rhythmic pattern for grounding body and mind.

Your phone was safely secured by a strap around your left upper arm as you listen to Flyleaf blasting away in your earbuds. Without thinking, your speed matches the beat of the drum and you almost forget where you were. Lost in the present. A rare gift for someone like you.

Which came to an unnerving halt when a call came through. You had set your phone to vibrate and bring your arm around to see who was calling. It was Brian.

You immediately stop running and tap your earbud to take the call

 “Hey,” you pant out in greeting.

“Catch you at a bad time?” You could hear his amusement.

“Nothing … exciting. Jus’ … running. Or … was.”

You take note of your surroundings and see one civilian sitting on the edge of the canal path gazing into the water. There was another one walking their dog.

“Oh good. Here I thought you’d be getting ready for work.”

You wince, hearing his disappointment as you walk over to a bench. “Word … travels fast.”

You inhale and exhale with purpose, catching your breath. “I’m surprised you found out this quickly since you got better things to do then babysitting me.”

“A consulting job with the BAU?” A pause. “Really? Of all the things you could be doing …”

“There’s nothing wrong with helping them out.”

“Of course not. Unless you’re supposed to be on leave.”

“Wilson called in a favor,” you explain as you sit. “I wanted to help her and the unit out. Bailey’s being a dick.”

“As the director of the CIA, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Still doesn’t change he’s being a dick.”

“Anyway … the FBI asking for your clearance confirmation is what flagged your mischief. Why can’t you just take time for yourself? You didn’t have to repay the favor like this.”

‘I know,” you admit as a squirrel scurries along the trail, looking around for anything edible. “But, I just …” You sigh, heart pounding as you try to find your words. You focus on the squirrel to ground you, watching its tail snap back and forth while its head darts around trying to keep an eye on potential danger. “Come on, Brian. Sitting still’s hard. I need … something to do. This at least keeps me in the country for a while. That practically counts as a vacation.” You could hear how childly petulant you sound.

“With the AG backing this plan you’ve agreed to, I’d have to personally override it to force you take it easy. And that would cause suspicion. And clear favoritism. We can’t have that again. So, I’ll expedite the process on getting your official credentialing approved as requested. I will say I’m happy you’re using your stipend since you barely do. This is a creative use, I must say.”

“Hey, that’s all Wilson. Make sure she gets the credit for this one.”

He laughs. “Fair enough, but you need to be careful. You haven’t been integrated in such a public team in a very long time.”

“Yeah, I get that. I know what to say and not say. Mostly not say. You worry too much old man.”

I probably shouldn’t have said anything about the whole AWOL matter in front of Prentiss …Oops!

“Long as we understand each other.”

“Affirmative, Director Korogoth.”

Yeah, Brian didn’t need to know about her first slip up.

Emily couldn’t make a dent in her paperwork later in the afternoon as reports from all levels of the FBI lab were coming in from the shipping container. Repeated authorizations were needed to keep escalating the DNA testing of the victims, whose families of missing persona were rising in numbers at Quantico. She had sent Tara there to speak with them and provide as much comfort as possible with such uncertainty. They needed time and patience before they could release any information, and Lewis was the best agent for the job of explaining this.

“Knock, knock!”

She looks up and sees Garcia standing in her doorway with tablet in hand and a grimace. “What’s wrong?” she warily asks.

“Nothing Sicarius bad, but I come bringing lackluster news of our dear consultant.” Garcia comes in and sits down, turning the tablet around so Prentiss could see. “There’s like, nothing out there about her. And I tried everything. The FBI, CIA, DOJ, INTERPOL, and O M G nothing,” she finishes with a whine. “I even tried all the backdoors that I happen to know but still … nothing! I never find nothing besides the basic info that they …” she flourishes her hands out in the air at the invisible government, “… want us to see!”

“Hold on, Pen,” Emily says gently as Garcia was on the verge of hyperventilating. She always took it as a personal failure when she couldn’t come through for the team. “Why can’t you find anything?”

Penelope pulls her lips together and inhales deeply in and out through her nose a few times while closing her eyes. With a quick flex of her fingers, she opens her eyes and calmly starts. ‘Because apparently I don’t have clearance.”

“How the hell do you not have clearance?” Emily is stunned, unable to comprehend what Garcia admitted. “You have all the clearances …”

Her eyes ran through the information on the tablet that was able to be pulled: basic physical data and skill sets that a field operative would have with the CIA, list of languages spoken that overlapped with her own, and current status as active but on leave. Clearly the request for consulting with the BAU has not been approved yet. Scrolling further, there were glaring omissions of how long you were in the CIA, recruitment date and where, notable missions that were declassified, and specializations. There was no date of birth nor place listed.

What the hell do you do for them that so much is hidden? Emily wondered as Penelope spoke up.

“Yes, but I don’t have the need to know clearance about Ms. Whitlock. All my contacts said the same thing – the BAU doesn’t need to have anymore information on her except what you have in your hands right there.” She was exasperated, still, from hitting one dead end after another and huffed, crossing her arms. “They also said nothing negative about her, but why the secrecy?”

“Why indeed …” Emily trails off in thought.

Who the fuck are you?

“Is it … ah, worth it to have someone like this on the BAU, Emily?” she asks nervously. “I mean, with Bailey and all. It’s super nice that Tara’s girlfriend thinks this woman can help, but it’s really, really, weird to find next to nothing. I don’t even know where she lives! Her salary! Not even her phone number!” She steadies her hands that started to lightly shake, clearly bothered by this unknown variable.

“At this juncture?” she sets the tablet down and sighs. “Yes.”

“Why?” Penelope asks in disbelief. “This … this isn’t a good idea, Emily!”

“She’s the solution to our budget,” she reveals. “The only one I’ve got.”

“So, what? We’ve handled worse before. We can do it again. Why are you okay with this?”

“I never said I was okay with it. Just that this is the solution I’ve got to give the BAU some breathing room that we really need right now. Soon as we capture Sicarius.” She points to your face on the tablet, “she’s gone.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’ll be personally overseeing her as I’ll explain to the team once this all gets cleared and approved.” She looks gravely at her friend. “And that means keeping this quiet until then. Understood?”

Garcia scowls.

“Garcia ….” Emily begins to warn.

“Fine!” Penelope huffs as she rises, snatching the tablet. “I certainly hope you’re hiring Black Widow and not some Skrull that takes us down, boss.”

Emily watches as Garcia storms out of her office with furrowing brows and murmurs. “What in the hell’s a Skrull?”

*Defense Counterintelligence and Security Agency.

Chapter 3

[septianamichelleahmadgeigermay]

SEPTIANA MICHELLE AHMAD GEIGER MAY

ALISON BEHM KARA PULZ LACEY WOLF SARAH ESCHELMANN TORI HARRIS EMILY HARRIS NIKKI ASAO TARA STILLIONS WHITEHEAD LYNNE MARIE HEDVIG

BRADLEY CARL GEIGER

SAPPORO JAPANESE RESTAURANT SHERIDAN WYOMING UNITED STATES OF AMERICA THE PLANET KNOWN AS EARTH ALSO KNOWN AS TERRA

[foxy-eva]

Motherhood

Summary: Emily and Tara finally become mothers

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Tara Lewis

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: adopting a newborn, brief mention of a hospital and the birth mother 

Author's Note: This was written for @imagining-in-the-margins Family Writing Challenge

Word Count: 1.2k

Masterlist

Due to the nature of their jobs Tara and Emily were used to sudden phone calls that interrupted their day. However, since they'd been in contact with an adoption agency, every unexpected call brought not only an adrenaline rush but also so much excitement and hope. 

They knew that their lives could completely change any day now but when the agency finally called, Tara and her wife felt anything but prepared. Of course they had made sure that their house was ready for their child - from colorful walls in the nursery to bottles and diapers - but there was only so much one could do to prepare for becoming a parent. 

The phone call came when both women were working on a case with the rest of the BAU somewhere across the country. Tara's heart instantly began racing when she saw the number of the adoption agency lighting up on the screen of her phone. She stepped out of the meeting room for a moment to answer and knew just a few seconds later that she was about to become a mother. 

Emily was busy discussing a profile with some police officers but knew that something was up when her wife approached her. After excusing herself, she stepped aside to talk to Tara. 

"Emily… we're having a baby," Tara whispered with a slight tremble in her voice. 

Almost absent-minded Emily asked, "She's in labor?"

She was the birth mother of their child, a woman both Emily and Tara would be forever grateful for. 

"Yes," Tara confirmed. "The agency just informed me."

Emily couldn't hide her excitement, exclaiming, "We need to get back to DC!" 

Just a few phone calls later a last-minute flight back to their hometown was booked. Emily had told the whole team to meet them at the local police station to share the news. The excitement the women radiated gave away that what they were about to share had nothing to do with the case. 

"JJ, looks like it's time for you to take over as Unit Chief," Emily announced with a bright smile painted over her face. "We're having a baby."

Of course the team had already been informed beforehand about the upcoming changes but everyone was still surprised when they realized that as of today a lot of things would be different for the BAU. Happiness for the becoming mothers outweighed any worries about that though. Rossi was the first one to hug Emily and Tara, kissing their cheeks before he let JJ take over to throw her arms around them. 

After everyone had a chance to wish them all the best for this new chapter of their lives, Emily and Tara hurried to the airport to catch their flight. It was still hard to believe for them that they would soon meet their daughter. It was a long flight and they were aware that it was very likely that their baby would already be sleeping peacefully once they’d arrive at the hospital. 

Excitement and nervousness sank in when the plane approached the destination. Tara reached for Emily’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Smiling at each other, neither of them could hide their current emotional state. 

“Are you nervous?” Tara softly asked. 

Emily squeezed Tara’s hand while whispering, “More than I thought was possible.” 

The woman from the adoption agency was already waiting for them when they arrived at the hospital. Emily’s heart was pounding louder than ever, drowning out all of the surrounding sounds. She almost didn’t understand what the woman was saying but luckily her wife was there to remain level-headed. There was no hesitation from Tara to say yes when she was asked if they were ready to meet their daughter. 

“Hey little one, your moms are here to finally meet you,” the nurse at the delivery station chirped as she took the baby out of her bed. 

When the nurse gently placed the newborn into Emily’s arms, there was no way for either of the two women to hold back their tears. They took their time to get to know her, tenderly brushing their fingertips over the soft hairs on her head. 

“She’s absolutely perfect,” Tara cooed once it was her turn to hold their daughter for the first time. 

“She really is,” Emily agreed before placing a careful kiss on the baby’s forehead. 

“Evelyn Penelope Prentiss-Lewis,” Tara whispered. “Our daughter.”

Their daughter was named after Tara’s late mother and one of the greatest women they both knew (who certainly would spoil her youngest godchild soon). 

What followed in those first few days as new mothers were a lot of sleepless nights and hours of just staring at Evelyn in awe. Tara and Emily didn’t expect how magical bringing a child into their lives would feel. Watching each other take care of their daughter brought them even closer and they savored every second of cuddling up together with their child. 

The crib was rarely used, impossible seemed the thought of not having her close at all times. It was clear long before Evelyn was born that they would want to stay at home with her for as long as possible. Emily decided to take a whole year off work while Tara went on parental leave for six weeks. 

When the team came to visit to meet the newest addition to the BAU family, everyone wanted a chance to hold little Evelyn. Matt was the most practiced with children but even he was very careful as he picked up the baby to hold her. 

“It goes by so fast,” he said. “It’s easy to forget how little they are at first.” 

"I always thought you were insane for having twenty kids,” Emily laughed, “But now that we have her… I want like ten more of them."

"Just for the record, I have five children," Matt chuckled. "But I know what you mean."

“Don’t give him any ideas,” Luke playfully warned. “We can’t have another team member go on parental leave.” 

Matt shook his head, “Trust me, five kids are enough.”

The next few weeks went by faster than they would have liked. It was almost impossible for Tara to leave her girls to go back to her day job but she knew it was inevitable. She didn’t even make it to Quantico before calling her wife from the car to check in with them. Emily reassured her that everything was going alright and sent a picture of their sleeping daughter to calm Tara down. 

Luckily there was no new case on her first day back so Tara was able to go home to her wife and daughter after eight long hours apart. She found her girls cuddled up on the couch, Emily sleeping peacefully while their daughter inspected her mother’s face. 

Tara lay down beside her daughter, placing a gentle kiss on her head before whispering, "Hi sweet girl. I missed you so much." 

Evelyn answered by cheerfully cooing, waking up her mom. Emily stretched her arms over her head, a wide grin spread over her face once she laid her eyes on Tara. 

She leaned over to kiss her wife, mumbling against her lips, "We missed you, too."

If you liked this story you should check out my wlw Masterlist for more sapphic content!

Taglist: @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @gaelic-symphony @spencer-reid-wonderland @lovelyy-moonlight @rustyzebra @sweetannanas @dashneydanger @iameternallylonely @storiesofsvu @multifandomlesbianic @lover-of-books-and-tea @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites

Join my taglist here

[taste-thewaste]

Game: Add 10 gifs from your favourite shows and tag 10 people. tagged by @henrysfox @bigassbowlingballhead @basil-bird @stratocumulusperlucidus thank you pals!

Superstore

2. Sabrina the teenage witch

3. United States of Tara

4. Grounded for life

5. Gilmore girls (ironically)

6. House, MD (even though i never finished it lol)

7. GBBO (I am henry. also this gif is for you, jon)

8. roseanne (listen i know she is trash but roseanne in the 90s wasn't and was actually really ahead of its time)

9. Desperate Housewives

10. Six feet under (again, still haven't finished it lol but it's on the list and i love it)

i know i'm forgetting something lol

tagging: @england-would-fall @tailsbeth-writes @lfg1986-2 @nilefreemans @sherlock-is-ace

@luainthewild @eusuntgratie @onthewaytosomewhere @mossy-fae @wtfuckevenknows

@mylucayathoughts

[retrieve-the-kraken]

Heartstopper season 2 play-by-play analysis

It can’t be over! It can’t be! How long will it be before my next dose of serotonin? Although rewatching helps, absolutely, but my god, that cliffhanger! Those last moments of the episode just leave you yearning for more. More Paris Squad, more in-depth looks into their individual stories, more Nick & Charlie, more more MORE!

I’m glad that Alice Oseman is already hard at work on the season 3 script. I hope they’re as inspired as ever.

EPISODE 8 - PERFECT

- Baby Queen’s “Colours of you” makes an appearance/comeback. I don’t know, but I feel like a lot of people said that it was about how Nick makes Charlie feel, how his world is black and white until Nick comes into his life (I don’t know if maybe Baby Queen said that), but to me it was always more the other way around: that Nick’s life was very black and white until he met Charlie, because not only did he realize he liked Charlie, but he also realized this whole other part of himself, in the form of the colors of the rainbow (queer pride).

- Comments to Nick’s post coming out as bi are a a mix of joyful and shocked but a few awful people just taking up space too.

- Charlie saying that his life is perfect right now and that everything’s perfect, whilst Nick knows it’s not, because Charlie still has an eating disorder, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

- “Do you want to be my girlfriend?” “Is that a serious question?” Love them.

- Tara and Sahar, I hope you’ve learned your lesson: never ever take part in an organization committee.

- I was weirded out by the fact that they included prom in the show, since I thought there was no high school prom in the UK. It just seems like such an American/gringo thing (we have prom in my country, but it’s nothing like the gringo prom… mine was so weird and lame). But it turns out that they do have it in the UK now, likely made popular by all the classic teen dramas and rom coms that take place in high schools from the United States. But since it wasn’t in the comic either, I still thought it was a strange addition at first. However, the whole group dynamic made it work.

- Coach Singh coaxing Mr Ajayi to text Mr Farouk… that whole interaction was so precious…

- People just openly coming up to Nick and Charlie to ask if it’s true that they’re dating. Children, it’s none of your business, you don’t even know them…

- The conversation between Tao and Nick, Tao’s face as Nick mentions that Charlie is still affected by the bullying… poor Tao, he really didn’t mean for that to happen, that’s why he’s so protective of Charlie. And Nick’s face when Tao mentions his dad dying, like he’s really surprised that Tao is opening up to him. “Didn’t know about your dad…” “Don’t be weird about it.” “I’ll try.” “Good.”

- And their faces when they both realize that neither knows how bad the bullying was, because Charlie hasn’t opened up to either of them completely about it.

- And Nick and Charlie both looking so handsome in their suits, and being so gaga for each other. “I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend…” “You look… sooo… goooood! YOU LOOK SOOOO GOOD!” My favorite thing about this new season is that I’ve lost count of how many times Nick can’t resist the urge to pick up Charlie. I’m making a montage.

- “And a big public appearance as a couple… that’s definitely what we want?” Nick knows how much the attention might overwhelm Charlie. But Charlie’s not thinking about that, he’s trying to focus on the good part, the fact that he has an amazing boyfriend, that they can be together without hiding now.

- Darcy watching sourly as a mother picks up and comforts her small child, indicating that her bad relationship with her mother is not a new thing, her mother has never been nurturing or comforting or loving. And of course, how is Darcy supposed to know how to love someone if she has never been shown love in her entire life?

- Best scene ever: Elle’s dad being a ten feet tall burly man, pretending to be intimidating but then laughing it off. Will Gao’s awkward nervous laugh sends me.

- His reaction to Elle’s whole look. “You look… you… you’re so… Hello…” He’s so smitten.

- Seriously, Tao and Elle being the hottest, most stylish couple at the prom. Tara’s dress, though, is my absolute favorite.

- Tao and Elle being silly and cute for photos, and the four original friends taking a cheesy studio photo together. Love them.

- “I can’t believe Nick’s showing off his boyfriend, but none of you managed to bring a girl!” How does Harry manage to say something ‘nice’ and still make it sound like bullying? AAAND you didn’t bring a girl either, Harry, so what’s your deal??? He’s just loudly seeking attention. Where’s Tao when you need him to shut Harry down with a snarky comeback??

- The boys teasing Nick about being the first one in a relationship, like it’s no big deal. But my favorite was Christian going “I could get a girlfriend, how about Tara Jones?” Awww, has he genuinely liked Tara this whole time, or was she the first one that came to his mind? (I think he genuinely didn’t remember she’s a lesbian).

- Tara’s “How do you talk to someone about something they don’t want to talk about?” And Nick realizing that that’s what’s happening with Charlie. “Maybe you just have to try, even if it doesn’t work”. They both have to go for it. I love their friendship.

- Baby Queen‼!

- The dance routine, Elle and Tao living their best movie sequence.

- The little neon butterflies as Elle tells Tao she wants to go to Lambert, and he tells her that he knows. Yes he knows, and he knows that it will make him happy to see Elle happy, even if that means letting her go. He has to overcome his fear of abandonment. He’s not being abandoned, they’re just growing up.

- THE ACE BOOK. Give it to mee‼! Isaac is looking for an identity. And I love that it cuts to James enjoying himself too, and Tori being content by herself at a table. I hope we get more of Tori’s story in future Heartstopper seasons (and the comic too).

- And the teachers are going on an actual date!

- I don’t know what that meant, Imogen getting sort of misty-eyed looking up at Sahar playing. Maybe she’s realizing that she might have feelings for her, but my interpretation is that, since Imogen claimed that she needed to focus on herself, and since the whole season she has seemed pretty lonely, and we find out that she and Sahar used to be friends until Imogen got a boyfriend and they stopped talking to each other (regardless of who stopped first), and because Sahar revealed that she was bi and Imogen got caught unawares and thought maybe she should have known that, that Imogen’s reaction was more of a wanting to rekindle that friendship. As we saw with Tao and Charlie, and maybe now even Nick and Tao, friendships and platonic relationships are given the same importance in Heartstopper as romantic ones. Not all stares mean romance. And Imogen is looking for friends right now. (Although if it does lead to romance, I wouldn’t be mad about it… and who can deny the Lesbian Lighting??? Maybe Imogen IS into girls after all…) “Youuu, soft and lonely…”

- Isaac getting his heartstopper moment when he holds the book to his chest. YES ISAAC!

- Charlie asserting himself and asking Nick if they can leave, because he’s tired and uncomfortable of people staring and pointing. Everyone’s been so nice to their face about them coming out as a couple, but that doesn’t mean that Charlie’s not going to be worried about someone saying something nasty to either him or Nick, and it doesn’t mean that he’s not possibly going to have horrible flashbacks to being bullied. And Nick once again realizing that he doesn’t care about parties, he just wants to be with Charlie.

- Seriously, Sarah needs to adopt Darcy, replace David.

- Why would Darcy’s mum see Tara in her dress and think “oh no, a door-to-door salesperson?” She clearly doesn’t want to deal with anyone, but maybe even worse, she just wants to quickly get rid of a black girl standing at her doorstep.

- “She had another one of her tantrums last night.” Like this is typical and so it’s not a big deal that she has no idea where her daughter is…

- Group hug to heal my soul.

- “I wanted to be that person for you…” My heart. Tara and Darcy finally talking. “You’ve only seen half of my life.” “And now i’ve seen the other half, and I still love you.” “Are you sure? Because I’m a literal disaster.” “Oh I know.” That is so sweet. And Darcy practicing saying I love you until it feels normal and natural. So joyful.

- By the way, only Heartstopper can get me to listen to Taylor Swift. No offense to all the Swifties (including Patrick Watson), I love your love for Taylor, but I really don’t get it, her music just doesn’t get to me. Admittedly that song was nice for this moment. But that’s about it. But anyway… don’t come at me. I just prefer Baby Queen and Orla Gartland and beabadobee and Carly Rae Jepsen and Gabrielle Aplin and Wolf Alice and Carmody and girl in red much more in this soundtrack. AND THAT WASIA PROJECT SONG‼ Weeping‼

- I love how warm and sweet everyone in the group is to each other. Look at Tao and Nick hugging! Look at how Nick and Tara and Darcy are as much a part of the group as if they had been there for as long as the other four have been tight. Everyone deserves a friend group like that.

- I love that they included that bit from the little comic answering fan questions, where Nick realizes that maybe he’s had a crush on a boy before.

- “Now your turn”. Nick really wants Charlie to be able to open up to him, about anything. Charlie deflects, as always, and says that they don’t need to talk about it because everything’s fine, but the truth is he doesn’t want to talk about it, he doesn’t want to deal with those feelings. But if he never does, he’s just never going to move past that. And Nick wants to help him, even if it’s hard, even if it’s painful, he wants to understand. “You don’t have to be perfect with me.” Charlie just shrinking into himself…

- That whole conversation, it was an impeccable performance from Joe and Kit, and I’m crying again… Nick can’t even fathom that anyone would call this beautiful boy disgusting, and he can’t even fathom the pain that would cause Charlie to hurt himself, he doesn’t even know what to do… but he’s there, he’ll be there, and he wants Charlie to know how much he cares about him. It’s so soft, the hugs, the soft voices, the kiss on the forehead, the tearful kiss, and telling him how much he loves everything about him…

- Serial hoodie thief.

- That deep sigh… that terrified look…

- Spoiler alert: Charlie doesn’t send the text… of course not… he quickly realizes that he wouldn’t just say that for the first time over text… he wants to really mean it.

This episode is brought to you by TIPTOE KISSES™.

Looking forward to next season:

- Sara and Nick’s talk at the beach in Menorca. It will destroy me, but it will be worth it.

- The ‘I love you’ shower scene, and subsequent street chase.

- The beach, and Nick and Charlie both blushing when Charlie’s putting sunscreen on Nick’s back.

- More from The Teachers™ ‼

- I’m not ready for Charlie writing the note to read to his parents… I’ll never be ready… I’ll weep until I’m out of tears…

- Charlie possibly speaking Spanish… listen Joe, Kit had to learn French, Spanish is NOTHING compared to that, you’ll be fine.

- In the comic, after Charlie faints, there’s that funny moment when Nick says “Charlie, I’m not gonna start acting like I’m your doctor and you’re my patient… *seductive smirk* *eyebrow wiggle* unless you’re into that…” “SHUT UP!” I need this moment, I need it so bad…

- More about Elle’s family, please. I already love her parents. More about all the families, really.

- More Tori, hopefully.

MORE HEARTSTOPPER, PLEASE!

[exyglass]

United States of Tara//S2 E12

[fewsystemsinonebody]

Tara from United States of Tara

Danny from The crowded room

Jack from Marrowbone

by Brie and host (gifs added by Alex)

question 71: do you have a favourite plural character? is that canonical or a headcanon of yours? why are they your favourite?

[brielarsonist]

BRIE LARSON as KATE GREGSON United States of Tara (2009-2011) | 2.03 The Truth Hurts

[minxtwist]

… I'm a bitch

I'm a lover

I'm a child

I'm a mother

I'm a sinner

I'm a saint

And I do not feel ashamed

I'm your hell

I'm your dream

I'm nothing in between

You know you wouldn't want it any other way

… So take me as I am

This may mean you'll have to be a stronger man

Rest assured that when I start to make you nervous

And I'm going to extremes

Tomorrow I will change

And today won't mean a thing