Big Bad Handsome Man | Spencer Reid
Series Masterlist | Smurph's Masterlist
Part 20 of Room 405
Warnings: angst, tension, awkwardness, strip-tease shows, morning sickness, blood
Summary: You and Spencer finally learn what each other do for a living
There were a few things in life that knocked Spencer on his ass. He really thought he had himself figured out more than once, and sure enough life came by and sucker punched him in the jaw, emerging from a passing crowd like an assassin in the night.
Each time his body lifted with the force. His feet left the ground and he hit the concrete with such force he was sure that blow would be the one to do him in. Each time, Spencer got back up. Sometimes it took weeks, months, even years …but he got back up eventually.
Those fists to the chin could never have prepared him for this, tonight. No, this was definitely another thing Spencer never saw coming.
"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for…" the announcer's voice rang out over the lounge as Spencer and Hotch waited for the Arends' to begin their set.
The crowd rowdily banged on tables and stomped on the floor, yelling in their excitement. Spencer looked around and cocked a brow at them. It was just a strip tease, how could these people be so into it when none of these performers would want anything to do with them on the outside?
"The Nocturne proudly presents, not for the first time and certainly not the last… the beautiful minds behind this den of depravity, the parents of pleasure, the owners and leads of this proud establishment…"
It felt wrong being here like this, with scantily clad people all selling the idea of sex and strip tease. He supposed it made some people happier to escape into this fantasy for a few hours…but you were his escape and he'd much rather be with you.
He blanched when he thought about how he'd tell you all about this, but then he thought maybe you'd like to see the show someday. Then he'd have to explain what the hell he was doing here in the first place… oh you were going to make such fun of him.
"Momma and Daddy, a song of lust and trust. Just don't cream your pants too early, children," the MC purred over the speakers as the lights went dark in the lounge. "It's about to get hot in here."
The curtain began to lift slowly, the drum rolls of the people and the band shuddering the ground beneath them. The tension in the air was thick, heady and putting Spencer on edge. A shimmering sinful red backdrop appeared behind the curtain, the glimmering dancefloor illuminating the whole place with the illusion of depravity.
Long, lean legs and glittery red stilettos began to appear, followed quickly by a matching bustier and feathered short skirt. Sleek hair was pinned up in a 50s style boudoir look, shining under the spotlights. The woman posed with a grin, leaning on one hip with a flourishing hand pointing up at the lights.
Charlie Arends stood behind her in black leather pants and a matching vest with nothing underneath, hair slicked back and a confident smirk on his face. He looked over the crowds as they began to cheer, the rest of the stage cast in shadow. He turned his head into the crook of her neck and placed a kiss there.
When the curtain hit the top, a sultry crimson glow blew across the stage, blinding Spencer for a moment.
A blasting of trumpets and saxophones exploded through the venue as his eyes adjusted, cheers from the crowd going wild. It was then that Spencer finally took in this woman and her outfit, and his stomach dropped as he noticed the final finishing touch.
A red collar with a heart charm…just like the one you'd surprised him with all those months ago when he came back from Texas after five weeks away.
Because the half naked dancer in a barely-there corset for every rich man in this room to see… was you… dancing with Charlie Arends.
Your head turned to press your cheek against Charlie's, and he quickly moved to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. His whole world stopped, a fifty pound weight sinking deeper in his belly as your hand pulled the back of his neck to bring him closer. You pulled away as the music swelled.
"The man is tall, mad, mean and good lookin', and he's got me at his eye," you sang sultrily as you and Charlie locked eyes with cheeky grins. Spencer's fingers gripped his pants leg tightly as boiling hot jealousy coursed through his veins. "When he looks at me, I go weak at the knees. Got me going like no other guy."
Your palm landed gently on your husband's cheek, his arm wrapping around your waist. He twisted you out in a flash, lingering fingers clutching yours as you posed for the crowds. They went wild as Spencer sat, mouth agape, watching you in the last place he'd ever thought you'd be.
"He's the devil divine, I'm so glad that he's mine. 'Cause he's my big bad handsome man."
A song of lust and trust…
Spencer foolishly thought you saved the lust part for him. Was this how you two always were? Clinging and close and unembarassed by touch?
Spencer's rational mind recalled you saying how close you were with your husband, that you didn't date because people never understood your relationship…but as he watched Charlie Arends dance sexily with you, he wanted to melt into a puddle of self-doubt and anxiety.
You twirled and sang with your lacquer-lined lips, smiling like a fiend. You turned back to him, belting out with a beautiful confidence, "Oh, the music he plays, the way he moves me and sways, rocks me to the floor."
Charlie placed a palm on your chest and with a choreographed shove pushed you to the floor. Your hand lashed out to grip his tie and pull him with you. Charlie leaned in close and licked a heavy stripe up your neck, and Spencer nearly shredded his pant leg as your eyes rolled back into your head. "When he sings in my ear, he makes me shiver and leer. Leaves me wanting more and more!"
Another carefully planned move later, and you were swept up high, then back on your feet. Charlie twirled you out, and with a faux look of surprise you gazed demurely at the crowd as your bustier slipped off and was thrown to the crowd, leaving you in just a lace red bra.
The crowd whooped and yelled, and without much thought besides not wanting any of these assholes touching anything belonging to you, Spencer’s hand reached up and snatched it out of the air.
“Cause he’s my big, bad, handsome man. He’s got me in the palm of his hand…”
A few celebratory claps and disappointed boos sounded out behind him, but Spencer's gaze was solely on you as he clutched the fabric. He vaguely noticed Hotch watching him worryingly out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it. Instead he rubbed his thumb over the lace and beadwork, his usually lightning fast mind struggling to process.
He wanted to march right up on stage and throw you over his shoulder. He wanted to carry you out and make sure you knew who you belonged to… but another part of him was heartbroken. You looked so happy, in a way he'd only seen in Room 405. But then again, he'd rarely seen you outside it.
Your hair bounced free from your updo, falling over your shoulders. It flew with you as Charlie and you performed this routine. It was so practiced, so comfortable and full of trust between the two of you. He couldn't figure out why he felt so crushed, so betrayed. All he knew was that he thought he was falling apart in this stool.
The music swelled and boomed, the lights shone off your bright lipstick. Another flick of Charlie's wrist and your feather skirt was gone, disappearing over the crowd. It left you in only some lingerie and those sparkly stilettos, and it looked like something he would've bought for you.
Charlie twirled you out and you walked sultrily down the glossy stairs of the stage. Your hands flicked out expertly to draw attention to your figure. The music hit a peak, and with sudden fear, Spencer realized a spotlight had turned to him and you were fast approaching. This seat was a hot seat, a place for the performers to interact with the audience.
Spencer swore he saw the moment your breath caught in your chest as you spotted him. Your steps faltered, your jaw dropping. He shifted in his seat to sit up straighter, locking eyes with your suddenly pleading gaze. You looked back at Charlie with wide eyes, and his head cocked in confusion, but you quickly snapped back into gear as your part came up again.
Strutting to the hot seat he was in both metaphorically and physically, your hand slipped around Spencer’s shoulders as you plopped down in his lap. One long leg crossed over the other, and it took everything Spencer had not to pick you up and run you out of the lounge. Your palm slid over his chest, a perfectly manicured nail moving up to guide him by the chin to look at your beautiful face.
“With his rugged good looks, yeah, he’s got me hooked,” you sang sweetly, but your eyes were watery. You were scared and trembling in his lap at his reaction, and without much thought Spencer slid a hand over your thigh and squeezed your knee. “Got me where he wants me to be.”
“We’re going to talk about this later,” Spencer whispered in your ear as you sang. “Just act natural so nobody suspects.”
You didn’t react the way he thought, your eyes turning into a squint. In a flash you twirled off his lap. The spotlight followed you as you moved, hugging your curves in a silhouette. Your palms slid over his chest as you sang, “He’s the kind of guy that does it for me.”
With a quick push, Spencer’s chair flew back. He landed heavily on his back on the hardwood, watching in pure shock as you glowered down at him for a moment before turning on your heel away from him as the crowd roared. Hotch was there in a second, pulling him and the chair upright.
“He’s the devil divine, I’m so glad that he’s mine.” You sauntered back up the stairs slowly, hands flourishing out. The music pulsed through his veins as the crowd exploded with excitement and you wiggled your backside for every man in this place to see.
“Cause he’s my big. Bad! I’m so glad.” You turned enough to gaze sultrily out at the audience with a cocky grin, body posed seductively and wrenching Spencer’s heart in his chest. “That he’s my big bad handsome man, hmm…”
The lights cut out, flooding everyone in darkness. The crowd went wild, clapping and jeering. Spencer clenched his fingers around the bustier as he stared at the spot you and Charlie had occupied, a vein pulsing painfully in his forehead.
He knew this was irrational jealousy. You'd told him time and time again that your marriage was in name only…but that chemistry between you and your husband was undeniable.
Another act came on a few seconds after the lights faded, dancers flying about the stage in shimmering costumes and singing along to the beat, but his vision tunneled as it became nothing but background noise to Spencer's own insecurities.
You were the owner of the Nocturne, the wife of Charlie Arends, the mother of the witness to a brutal murder. You were the burlesque dancer who hated cops…the one Hotch said had a police officer ex who was abusive and cruel.
Why did you keep this from him?
"Reid," Hotch's voice came from his right, and Spencer turned to see his boss watching him with concern. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," he spat through gritted teeth. Spencer picked up the bourbon courtesy of Miss Fierce and downed it in one gulp before slamming it back down on the table.
You ran straight to your office after stepping off stage, flinging the door open to your private bathroom as your stomach lurched. Your knees hit the tile painfully as you threw your dinner up into the toilet loudly.
Clutching the cool porcelain, your sobs broke free as your stomach emptied itself. The music downstairs vibrated the floor beneath you as you sat in a red lingerie set and sparkly stilettos for everyone to see. God, what did Spencer think of you now?
Everything had been going so well, too well. Loud footsteps came up the stairs as you leaned back to lean on the wall. You suddenly felt so dirty sitting there in underwear and a collar on a strip tease bathroom floor. You were nothing in that moment, once again a pregnant whore who felt like she had nowhere to go.
What the hell was he even doing in a place like this? Had one of his friends dragged him here and he lied and told you it was for work? Could you really be mad at him for coming here when you're the one who owned the den of sin?
Act natural so nobody suspects. He'd talked to you like a dirty little secret…and after this that was probably all you'd be to him.
Charlie flew into the doorway, collapsing to his knees and putting his hands on your shoulders. You burst into unwanted tears and clung to him like a child. Your future was so uncertain at that moment, and all you wanted was your best friend.
Charlie curled you up in his lap, holding you so tight you were sure to burst. He brushed back your hair to see you as heavy mascara streaked down your cheeks through the glitter and foundation.
"Baby, what is going on? Are you okay?" he asked softly, full of such protectiveness you wanted to hold him forever and not let go.
"Oh, Charlie!" you sobbed hysterically. "I need to go home. Please, please take me home."
"I… I, uhm," Charlie sputtered. He didn't let go of you, but you knew how he got when he felt bad about something. You sat up and watched him warily.
"What did you do?"
Charlie hung his head in shame, "The FBI is here. They want to talk to you."
You shook your head, "I can't. Not tonight. I need to go home, okay?"
"What's going on?" he asked seriously. His arms around you kept you grounded, but you were terrified. Your whole world seemed to be crashing down around you, and you didn't know what was going to happen next.
"Charlie…" you whispered. Your voice wavered, and Charlie stiffened. Slowly you raised your eyes to meet his. "I'm pregnant."
His jaw dropped, eyes widening in excitement…but then his face scrunched up as he likely realized that baby had no way of being his. Your heart sank into your belly as you watched the father of your children come to his own terms with this, and he nodded slowly.
“The boyfriend?” he asked quietly. You nodded. “Does he know?”
You shook your head, becoming frantic once more. “And for some reason, he’s in the audience in the hot seat… he didn’t know where I work and now he does and… oh, fuck, Charlie!”
You motioned to the mess you looked now with your smeared makeup and scant clothing. “He’s not going to want me anymore… you don’t know about my past, everything… the more he finds out about me the faster he’s going to leave and so will you!”
Charlie’s hand clamped suddenly over your mouth, his brows furrowing together. He watched you with such determination and love you could have died right there. “I know about your past. I didn’t leave, and if he leaves you because of this then you and that kid are better off without him. I’ll be a dad of six instead of five, and you and I both know whoever you marry after me is going to have to deal with that anyway.”
Tears poured over your cheeks and onto his hand. Charlie simply slipped it away from your mouth and pulled you into a bone crushing hug. You sobbed into his shoulder as he rocked you back and forth. “You… you knew? About me this whole time?”
Charlie nodded against your head, “My dad wanted a background check after you told me you were pregnant. I saw everything, and well… I didn’t give a shit because I knew that you were my soulmate, baby. He tried to talk me out of it and… I lied and told you it was because of the club. I’m glad he’s not in our lives, because we deserve to surround ourselves with people who accept us for who we are.”
He pulled back to brush your hair away from your forehead and smile at you. You couldn’t help but smile back. “That’s what we’ve done for the people here, together. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Okay?”
Your voice shook but you believed him, and you were so happy he never made you talk about being a call girl or made you ever feel bad for having to do what you did to keep Tulip safe. “Okay.”
Charlie kissed you then, soft and slow. It wasn’t sexual, it never was anymore. It was comforting, full of love and devotion in a way so few people would ever understand. You kissed him back, clinging to him like the lifeline he was in the darkness you’d found yourself in so suddenly.
There was a clearing of a throat, and a soft knock on the doorframe, and when you pulled away you found yourself looking up at Agent Hotchner… and Spencer, holding your discarded bustier.
“Mrs. Arends,” he said softly, always nice to you even though you’d been a raging dick to him time and time again. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, but you couldn’t pull your gaze from the sheepish man before you. He lacked all the confidence he had in Room 405, and instead watched you with watery eyes… you knew he’d seen you kissing Charlie, and it had broken his heart.
“Spencer,” you murmured, mostly in shock.
“Y/N,” he replied quietly.
Agent Hotchner sighed and ran a hand over his forehead. He held out a hand for you. “I think we have a few things to talk about, including your relationship with Doctor Reid.”
He and Charlie helped you stand shakily while Spencer held himself back with his hands shoved in his pockets. Your brows furrowed, and you pointed between them, “You two know each other?”
Agent Hotchner nodded, “Doctor Reid works with me in the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”
Charlie gasped and his head shifted down to you. Everyone seemed to be staring right through you as your brain struggled to process what he was telling you. Charlie thrust a finger at Spencer, “This is the boyfriend?”
Spencer's eyes lit up a bit, turning to you with hopefulness. Anger and confusion battled in your mind for dominance, old memories of Tulip's biological father swirling to the surface.
“I… I didn’t know,” you muttered, staring hard at Spencer. You cocked your head, “You’re in the FBI? You’re a cop?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, almost shamefully. “I convinced your husband to let us talk to you tonight… about interviewing Tulip. We think she might be th-.”
“You’re a cop!?” you asked again sharply. All the men seemed to take a collective cautious breath in as rage boiled through you like a wildfire.
Spencer's eyes clamped shut for a moment, like he always did when he was frustrated, and he ran a heavy hand over the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous. You knew that about him, all those little things about his personality…and here he stood before you in too similar a job as someone who almost broke you.
He opened them slowly, those long lashes flickering as he struggled to contain himself. Spencer straightened his shoulders and locked jaw. His reached out his palm with your bustier and handed it to you. "You should probably get dressed."
Your battered mind struggled through the slosh of emotions and all this new conflicting information, but you managed to look toward the mirror above the sink and see how much of a mess you were.
Mascara stained your cheeks, your lipstick smeared. Your lingerie was rumpled and rucked up around your waistline. The only thing still in tact was that fucking collar. Your chin began to wobble as you saw yourself… you looked just how you did when you were stripping for money or getting dressed after visiting a client… like a whore, a sex worker no FBI agent would dare be seen with.
You nodded slowly and grabbed it from him, your arms moving up to cover yourself. Sucking in a pained breath, you moved forward and pushed past them without a word and into your office.
You had a paper divider by the window so you could change by yourself and in privacy, and a dresser behind it. With wobbly legs, you struggled to carry yourself over, but Charlie was right behind you, keeping you safe without having to ask for it.
There was a soft knock on the door, and Miss Fierce came in. Her jaw dropped a bit as she spotted you, but she didn't comment on it when she saw Charlie. She thrust a thumb over her shoulder, "I'm sorry to bother, but there's some guy bothering Tessa near the bathrooms."
"Where's Manny?" Charlie asked gruffly, making it clear he didn't want to leave you.
"He's on stage and so is Marty."
"Go," you told him softly, but he put a hand on your waist to tell me he didn't want to. You pushed him lightly, "Seriously, go take care of it. I'll be fine."
He shifted so you couldn't see Spencer or Aaron, leaning in close, "You sure?"
"We have to take care of our girls, Chuck." You gave him a soft smile, "You know me. I'll be okay."
Charlie nodded and pressed his lips to your forehead. He turned on his heel and made his way out of the office, making sure to take the time to eye Spencer on his way out. Miss Fierce followed after him, closing the door quietly on her way out.
"Have a seat," you offered, waving my hands at the fuzzy pink chairs in front of my desk. You went behind the divider and opened a drawer where they couldn't see you. There was a dressing mirror in the corner, and it took all you had not to break down looking at yourself.
"Obviously, this situation was unexpected," Aaron's voice came from the other side. You heard him sigh and continue, "I knew Spencer had a girlfriend, but I didn't know it was you and he had no reason to tell me as such."
You shrugged a long duster over a bodysuit tank top and pulled on some jeans, but something about that sentence bothered you as you dressed. You slipped on a black pair of stilettos and pulled your hair back into a ponytail. The anger bubbled further to the surface as you wiped off your makeup, and as soon as you were done you flew out from behind the divider in a rage.
“You knew your team was questioning my daughter!?” you snarled as you stomped toward the desk, your finger pointed at Spencer. “Did you read my file?”
His eyes turned to saucers, wide and a bit scared of your rage. Spencer leaned back in the ridiculous chair and braced himself on the arms. “I… I didn’t…”
Aaron put a hand between you as if to protect him. “Out of respect for your privacy and explicitly detailed lack of trust in the police, I did not divulge any information with my team except what was necessary. Doctor Reid had no idea you were the mother of a victim.”
Spencer watched you and nodded as your chest heaved. You couldn't seem to help but growl as you struggled to contain your anger. You hated cops. They couldn't be trusted.
You decided to sit down and pour yourself a drink of water from the bottle you kept in your desk drawer. You didn't offer Spencer or Aaron anything, just took a long sip and glared at them.
"We initially came here tonight to see if you were open to the idea of Doctor Reid speaking with Tulip," Aaron continued cautiously. "He doesn't seem to have had any idea you worked here even though you're supposedly together, but I guess that's something we can sort out later."
"I'm pretty sure I told you exactly where to shove your badge after talking to her last time," you replied coldly, setting the heavy tumbler on the desk. "She's had nothing but nightmares since she spoke with you."
"I understand, but Reid has a great rapport with children, and like I said before I believe talking about it is going to help Tulip more than keeping it inside."
You turned to Spencer, who watched you with those damned puppy dog eyes, "Why should she talk to you?"
"I, uhm, specialize in what we call 'cognitive interviews,'" Spencer started slowly. He cleared his throat awkwardly and rubbed his neck again, and all it did was make you angrier. "This is especially helpful with children. We talk them through the incident as if it's happening in real time, and they experience it again in a safe space where they know they can't be injured or harmed."
He swallowed thickly, hardly able to keep eye contact with you. How could he after seeing you on stage? "It helps people work through the effects of early PTSS, as the event no longer tends to appear in their mind like it's still happening."
You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back, eyeing him critically. Spencer leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and finally locked eyes with you.
"You'll be right by her side, keeping her safe," he pleaded, eyes wide and full of what you could have confused for love for you if tonight hadn't happened. "Please, sweetheart, trust me with this. I won't let anything happen to her. You have to know that."
"I don't know anything right now," you whispered, and he nodded sadly. Using his nickname for you in this situation… it gutted you.
And knowing you were pregnant…you wanted to believe him, but your mind was so scattered. You had kids who needed you now, and your body was trying to create a new one. All this stress… it couldn't be good for you or the baby.
A sharp scream echoed from downstairs, jolting all three of you from your spot. Your family was down there, and you were on your feet quicker than Spencer or Aaron. You tore across the room without any thought, barreling down the hallway with them following closely behind.
"Sweetheart, stop!" Spencer called, and you heard the familiar click of a gun leaving its holster. You hadn't even noticed one on him… so many things you didn't know about the man you were in love with.
As you reached the bottom of the spiral stairs, you spotted a group of people gathered around the bathroom doors. The music had stopped, and someone had turned all the lights on, which only made the danger seem that much more nefarious.
"Move!" you yelled, shoving through the throngs of people. If one of your girls was injured, you needed to get to them. "Get out of my way!"
There were a few disgruntled hey lady's as you elbowed your way through them. Flinging open the door to the bathroom, you stopped dead in your tracks at what you saw on the tile floor.
A man was slumped under the sink, a bloody trail leaking from his stomach and over the porcelain. Your eyes glazed over the scene, not really processing it, until you saw Charlie.
He lay on his back, and he wasn't moving. His blond hair was flecked with splattered blood and mucus. His face was covered with thick red liquid, pooling beneath him and onto the floor below. Your veins filled with ice as you began to panic.
You collapsed with a scream, reaching out and cradling his head in your hands. It smeared under your palms and across his skin, but you tried to push that out of your mind. He grunted a bit but his eyes didn't open. "Charlie? C'mon, baby, look at me!"
"Move," Aaron's voice came from the side, and he pushed you away. His hands wandered under Charlie's neck, and you realized he was checking for a pulse.
"No, no, no," you sputtered, unable to comprehend the sight before you. It was all too much, and you couldn't do this without him. You needed him.
You tried to put your hands on Charlie again, babbling like a child, "Charlie, baby. Baby, please wake up!"
"Reid, get her out of here!" Aaron snapped, and before you knew it a pair of hands grabbed you under the armpits and lifted you in the air.
"Get off me! Let me go!" you screeched, kicking and flailing, but Spencer never dropped you.
He pushed you out the door, and you managed to wiggle out of his grasp, falling to the floor. Your morning sickness hit, and before you knew it you threw up all over the ground.
The gawking staff and customers cast a wide berth, not wanting to get your sick on them even during a time like this. Spencer's pulled back your ponytail as you threw up again.
"It’s okay, it's gonna be okay," he soothed, rubbing a palm over your spine. "Sweethe-."
"Get off me!" you snarled, shoving him away. Spencer lifted his hands from you and held them up to prove he wouldn't touch you again. You panted as you watched him on your knees, "Let me in there. Now."
He shook his head firmly, getting on his knees to block you. "I can't do that. I called 911, and they're on their way. You'll only get in the way."
Your face scrunched up in rage as you pointed past him, "That's my husband in there!"
Spencer sighed and nodded. You watched in confusion as a tear trickled down his cheek.
"I know."
"He needs me."
Spencer shook his head now and wiped his face, "He needs EMS, and Hotch is first aid certified. You need to stay here."
You couldn't focus your rage anywhere else but at him, lurching forward and shoving him again from your spot on your knees. "You don't get to tell me what to do! Not you, not ever again!"
"Okay," he agreed sotfly. Spencer looked like he wanted to touch you again, but he kept himself back. "Okay, whatever you want."
All the fight left your body as you began to hear sirens, and you went mostly limp on the floor. Tears streaked down your cheeks, your hands slick with blood as you watched the love of your life keep you away from your soulmate.
"He's my husband," you whispered tearfully.
"I know," Spencer said again, his chin wobbling. He nodded bravely, but his eyes were red and watery. He gave you a weak smile.
"I know."
Notes: I promise you we'll have a happy ending!
I also wanted to say thank you. I know this was a long update coming, but I have had some of the craziest stuff go on, both good and bad! I chose to work on other stories since I had a block on this for so long, and people gave me a lot of hate... so for those of you who were nice and encouraging, THANK YOU <3 It means a lot to me.
Taglist:
@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo @sebastiansstanswhore
@louderfortheback @pandabiiissh @calebye
@dottirose @lfaewrites @padsfirewhisky @wheels-upin-thirty @f-me-reid @justanothercmblog
@rexorangecouny @nomajdetective @halloween-is-my-nationality @spenciesprincess @hoely-scripture @gspenc @princesssmooshie @loveeee2134 @reidslefteyebrow @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @hotchandspencearedilfs @barbietiingz @riverjane-d @2-gay-possums-in-a-trench-coat @simplyparker @thebloomingeagle @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @fangirling-galore @randomhoex @drspencerreid80 @kbakery
@fortheloveofwonderland @athenabrown @yukachankyu @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @baciamisottolalucedicentostelle @athenabrown @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @elhotchner