Imagine This: Creative Outlet for a Dreamer

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[wrecklessimagine]

Take Two... Part 2

Part 1

Spencer watched you for a few beats before he backtracked. He saw your shoulders stiffen. He heard the emotion creep back into your voice. Your cockeyed stance and the way you mindlessly fiddled with your left ring finger told him everything he needed to know, and he felt a pang of hurt rush through his chest. He'd seen divorce eat away at his former boss. At a man he admired. And as he grabbed your doorknob to close the door, he was reminded of that same hell he watched his boss--and good friend--dredge through.

He wondered what kind of an asshat left someone without so much as a bed to sleep on.

He stood in the hallway for a while, wondering if he should interject. Wondering if he should leave you alone. He wanted to help. It was simply in his nature. But he didn't want to overwhelm you, or worse. So, he settled for heading across the hall to his apartment and closing the door.

Until he heard you whip yours open.

He stood there, his hand on his own doorknob while he listened to your footsteps. His brow furrowed with every step you took down the stairs. Did you close your door? He hadn't heard it latch, or even slam. He placed his ear to the door and listened carefully. He listened as your footsteps continue down the stairs. And the entire time, he couldn't shake the feeling that you hadn't closed your door. So, when your footsteps disappeared, he decided just to take a peek. Just to make sure everything was okay.

And he was met with your open apartment door.

He perched there for a moment, figuring you would come back. Maybe you had more things to bring up. Surely, you had more than a little bit he had clocked when he inched his way inside. A few suitcases and a couple of boxes. Even he didn't live that sparsely.

But when you didn't come back, he found himself heading back across the hall.

"What are you doing, you idiot?" he murmured to himself.

Easing your door open, he found himself face-to-face with the mirror representation of his apartment. A living room connected to a kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom on one side, and a bedroom and a bathroom on the other. He studied the same dark green walls with the same black trim and the same built-in bookshelves, bare and lifeless. He studied the suitcases, six of them. Tattered, with broken wheels that he was certain made it hard to lug them around. Even the two cardboard boxes that had been flipped open were worn on the sides, practically falling apart at the seams.

He grinned to himself when he peeked inside and saw your books.

Your romance novels.

"Huh," he murmured as he reached for one.

The black cover was decorated in bright colors. He didn't recognize the title, nor the author. He flipped the book over and began reading the synopsis, only for the skin on the nape of his neck to pucker. The synopsis alone made him blush. He quickly put it back down before finding his fingers gravitating to another one. And when he picked it up, he flipped open to the first page.

Before finding himself immersed in a fantasy world that made his mind run wild.

"What the hell?"

Your voice startled him so badly that he slammed the book closed. His eyes widened as he looked over at your haggard form, lugging bags from the Walmart up the road on your arms.

Your eyes hardened on him. "What are you doing, nosy neighbor Spencer?"

He dropped the book back into the box before reaching toward the dangling bags. "Here, let me--."

"No," you say as you take a step back from him, "what I want to know is why you're in my apartment."

He cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You left your door open."

Your face fell. "Oh."

He scratched the back of his neck. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't be here. You just left your door open, and I went to close it, and I just--."

You watched him carefully. "You just...what? Decided to dig into my measley book collection?"

His cheeks blushed. "They're...interesting books."

He wasn't sure what he expected. Things looked bad. They looked very bad. But the second your lips crooked up into a grin, the laughter started. What began as a giggle grew into a belly laugh, and pretty soon the bags from your arms were dropping to the floor because you doubled over at your waist.

Laughing so hard that you had to lean against the doorframe.

"I'm so sorry," Spencer said through his chuckling.

"Oh, my God," you said breathlessly as you kicked the bags into your place. "Jesus, my life."

"Please, let me help you with those," he said as he gathered his breath.

You snorted as you tried to catch your breath. "You might as well go ahead since you let yourself in."

And that was all the introduction he needed.

He scooped up the bags, one by one, and heaved them into the kitchen. He set them on the countertop, evenly dispersed, so that you could get to whatever you needed. He couldn't help but eyeball some of the things in the bags. Some frozen foods. A rotisserie chicken. Toiletries.

An air mattress...

"You know," he said as he turned toward you, "I've got some extra plates and things that never even made it out of boxes when I moved in a while back."

"Oh?" you asked as you reached beside him, snatching the bag the air mattress was in.

"Yep. I mean, they're mismatched and everything. But, you're more than welcome to them."

You shook your head. "No no, you keep your things. I'll be doing more shopping over the coming weeks."

"It's really not a problem," he said as he watched you from the kitchen. "I never unpacked them or anything."

"When did you move in?" you asked as you unboxed the mattress.

Is she seriously going to sleep on that thing? "Around 10 years."

Another bark of a laughter fell from your lips. "So, you're really not using them then, huh?"

His smile grew. "No, I'm really not."

And to his surprising shock, you nodded your head. "I suppose if they've been collecting dust for the past decade, I could put them to use. Thank you."

He leapt at the opportunity to help. "I'll go get them. They're just in some boxes in my room."

"I'll keep my door open for you."

"That seems to be your thing, yes."

And as he backtracked across the hallway to go get those boxes, your laughter followed him all the way into his apartment.

Laughter that tugged at his heartstrings.

[wrecklessimagine]

I want to Imagine David Rossi coming home from a long case and he's stressed so the reader decides to help him by letting him take total control in the bedroom.

Here is for all of you who have been anxiously waiting for some Italian Stallion love. And, to the nonniepot that requested this prompt--Something really kinky with blindfolds ice and handcuffs and the woman(me) slowly stripped naked and teased?--here it is, comin' 'atcha.

Obvious trigger warnings for content ahead.

(Also, keep in mind: I have not watched the reboot, so I'm not working with that particular Rossi.)

Get Ready

The slamming of the door was all you needed to hear. One second, you're enraptured in a book, anxiously waiting for the love of your life to come home so you can celebrate his birthday. And the next second, you're scrambling to get out of your shared room.

Only for the man who stole your heart two years ago to go rushing by.

"Dave?" you ask as he rushes by in a haze.

"Not now, Y/N."

Your heart stills. Your soul holds it's breath. He never used your real name. Not unless something was very wrong. And as the slamming of his office door at the end of the hallway echoes toward you, you wonder if he even remembers what day it is.

You wonder if he remembers that it's his birthday.

Stepping out into the hallway, you eye the present sitting on the bed. A present just for him, on his special day. It had taken you so long to get him to appreciate the day he was born. And while you couldn't blame him for feeling the way he did about his birthday, there was a part of you that waited anxiously for him to come out. That waited anxiously for him to step back out of the door he had slammed so that you could pull him close and hold him.

But, all that remained was the silence of the hallway that stood between you and him.

Before an idea occurred to you.

Grinning wildly, you slip back into the room. You rip the present off the bed and yank the tissue paper out of the top of the bag. If he doesn't want to open your present, maybe he'd want to experience it.

So, you quickly get dressed into the barely-there emerald green lingerie and kneel at the edge of the bed.

Before placing handcuffs at your knees and wrapping a blindfold around your head.

"Sweetheart?" you call out.

Silence meets your echoing voice.

"Dave!?" you try again.

And still, nothing.

"David!" you bark.

That's when you hear the door off in the distance whip open. "What is it, amore mia?"

You did your best not to take his strict tone to heart. "I'm sorry to bother you, but can you come here for a second? I need your help with something."

The sigh he heaved broke your heart. You knew this case had been a long one for him. Rarely was he ever gone more than 3 days at a time, and he had been gone for an entire week. The lumbering footsteps alone told you everything you needed to know about how he felt. And for a split second, you thought about calling off the dogs. Maybe he was too tired. Maybe he'd come into the room and tell you to get up. Reject you, just like every other man had done.

Panic grips your throat as his footsteps come closer.

"Tesoro," he says as you hear your bedroom door swing open, "is this something that can--."

God, how you wished you could have seen his face. You, perched there, with handcuffs splayed across your lap and a blindfold covering your vision. The sparkling emerald green lingerie, barely covering your most private assets.

You can't help the grin that overcomes your face. "I may need a bit of help, handsome."

At first, when you hear the door close, your grin sinks. He left. Two words that run viciously through your mind. Your heart leaps into your throat. Your stomach sinks into your hips.

Until you feel the handcuffs leave your lap.

"You know I love you, right, tesoro?"

You nod your head as you hear the sound of metal clicking against metal.

"I need to hear you say it," he murmurs as he takes your wrist in his hand, wrapping it behind you.

You swallow hard. "Yes, I know you love me."

Your skin puckers as you feel his callused hand clamp down against your wrists, trapping them behind you. Goosebumps flee across your arms, causing you to shiver as the bed dips. Hot breath pulses against your face as a familiar arm wraps around your waist. And as your voice catches in your throat, your lips search for his.

Only for him to handcuff your wrists together.

"Good," he says as his hands roam your body, "because here in a few seconds, it won't feel like it."

A squeal is all that falls from your lips when he flips you. Despite the amount of times you and David had painted the walls of his home with your body, his strength never ceased to amaze you. In one fell swoop, you go from perched on your knees to having your cheek pressed against the mattress. His hand, gripping your hair. Your hips, hoisted high for him.

His girth, pressing against your ass cheek.

"Bella volpe," he grunts as his hand releases your hair, running down the length of your spine.

You draw in a shaking breath. "Happy Birthday, my love."

The heat of his lips against the small of your back make you jump. Your puckered peaks stiffen against the unsupported lace of your bra.

Then, he grabs your panties and rips them from your body.

"Ah!" you squeal.

"You're mine tonight," he growls as his thickness slides in between your lower lips.

"All yours," you say breathlessly.

"Every," kiss. "Last," kiss kiss. "Inch."

And before you could find your voice to proclaim your unending devotion to him, the tip of his cock catches your entrance.

Before he sinks himself down to the hilt.

His hand reaches for the braid of the cuffs, tugging at your arms. It lifts your head and you pant for air, adjusting to his intrusion. Your legs quiver as you rear back. His clothed chest descends against your shoulder blades. And as you grind back against him, he laps his tongue along the shell of your ear.

Before you find your voice yet again. "Take what's yours, my love."

And you sure as hell didn't have to tell him twice.

With one hand gripping your cuffs and the other wrapped around your throat, he dives into your body. He pulls back, with nothing but the tip captured between your swollen folds. He fills you to the brim, only to empty you, and you lose yourself in the heat of his touch. In the command of his grip. In the Italian phrases he growls against your ear as his body pounds against you. Your breasts bounce free. Your head falls back to his shoulder. His scruff tickles your neck, sending electric shockwaves cascading throughout your system.

You lose yourself in him. In the way your juices coat his shaft. In the way his body barrels against yours. In the way he commands every inch of you, demanding that you yield to his presence with nothing but the rhythmic drive of his hips.

And as your body begins to tense, he peppers your collarbone with kisses.

"Get ready," he murmurs.

"Oh, God. Dave. Shit. So close. So close. Please. Oh, fuck."

"Not just yet."

A whimper calls from your lips. "Dave, please. I-I-I--I can't."

"Yes, you can," he growls as he snakes his hand from your neck to your breast, tweaking your nipple hard.

"Ah!" you cry out as your pussy clamps down onto him.

"Come for me," he commands.

And that's all it takes. You unravel, shivering against him as your walls collapse around his girth. He stills, filling you with his length as you buck back against him, grinding yourself to an effervescent high. Stars burst in the darkness of the blindfold. Your legs give way, sending you catapulting to the bed. And as the sounds around you meld together, you think it's done. You think he's done.

Until he grabs your ankles and flips you onto your back.

"David!" you squeak.

"I'm not nearly finished with you yet," he warns.

With your hands trapped beneath you, he folds your knees to your chest. You hear something rattling around, but you're unsure of the noise. Cool air descends upon your swollen mound as your tits spill into the crevices of your body, aching to be touched.

"David, please," you beg.

"God, how I wish I had the self control," he grumbles.

His nose nuzzles your folds apart. You feel your juices dripping down your ass crack. You hold your breath, waiting for him to touch you. Waiting for his tongue to claim you. But instead, something cold falls against your most sensitive area.

Causing your back to bow.

"Dave, Dave, Dave, Dave, Dave," you chant breathlessly.

His chuckle rattles your ribcage. "What a lovely sight."

"David, please," you whisper desperately as you try to get away from the cold sensation, "please, just--."

He grabs your ankles and yanks you back to him. "Your body is mine. Stay put."

The cold was almost unbearable. It melts against your heated pussy, dripping down your creases as your toes curl. You pant for air, wiggling and struggling against David's strong hands. He folds your knees close to your chest. He laps up the liquid dripping down your ass. You jump with the touch of his tongue as your heavy pants turn to wanton groans.

And then, he finally had mercy.

"Such a good girl," Dave whispers before he licks up to your pulsing nub.

"Oh, God!" you cry out.

The warmth of his tongue is stronger than ever. The way he holds you down as he devours you spins your mind. Your words dissolve into breathless moans and mindless grumbles filled with uninterpreble phrases.

And the entire time, he sings your praises.

"You taste so good for me, bellissima."

"An angel sent from heaven"

"My luscious princess."

"David," you choke out. "I love you. I love you. I--love--."

He pulls back, earning a frustrated-albeit tired-kick from your foot. "Ask nicely, tesoro."

You can barely catch your breath. "Please, David. Let me come."

And he answered with flattening his tongue against your twitching clit.

"Dave!" you cry out.

His growls rattle your ribcage. His hold on the backs of your legs makes you squirm. Even with the blindfold, the widening of your eyes gives way to fireworks that burst within the darkness of your vision. Every single part of you comes alive, burning and churning and yearning for him. And as your back bows with your high, you hear his praises tumble from his lips.

"There we go."

"Just like that."

"So good to me."

"What did I ever do to deserve you?"

And as his lips, coated in you, capture yours, the blindfold comes tumbling down. Allowing you to smile up into the sparkling eyes of the man who owned your soul.

"Happy Birthday," you say lazily.

He captures your lips one more time before wrapping his arm underneath your back and pulling you upright. "I missed you, tesoro."

"I missed you, too," you say breathlessly as the handcuffs drop from your wrists.

"Now," he says as he lays you back down onto the bed, reaching between your bodies, "think you can hang on a bit longer."

A devilish grin crosses your face as your toes slink up the backs of his legs. "You know I can."

"Brava ragazza," he says as he guides himself back to your entrance. "Now, hold onto me."

You barely get yourself wrapped around him before the headboard begins bashing against the wall. Before his girth fills you. Spreads you. Teases you. Stuffs you full. Until all that's left is his mark dripping between your legs.

And his body covering yours from the harsh world you protect him from.

[wrecklessimagine]

Spencer Reid request please! I'm black and I remember when you did a request with Spencer being with a black woman and I LOVED IT SO MUCH. I was wondering if you could do another one where he shows her emotional intimacy for the first time and she's not use to it because she's never had a connection with someone besides physical? And it helps her feel like she's enough and worthy. I hope that makes sense, I struggle with this on a daily basis 😔

I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to work through these requests. I don't know if you're around any longer. I don't know if you finally found someone to write this for you. But, if you are still around, I hope you enjoy this. To the other nonniepot that made a request, I'm adding this request to this story:

Can you please do one where the reader's ex is the unsub and Spencer or anyone else didn't know about the relationship but he's really sweet about it while she's feeling horrible about not telling him? The two are also secretly dating?

Freefalling

The bones in your legs evaporate. Your vision rubberbands as the screen comes closer and further. Closer and further. Closer and further. That bright auburn hair. Those piercing green eyes that had sucked you in from across the library.

No, it can't be. It isn't possible.

"Y/L/N?" Hotch asks as his brow stitches itself together.

You heard him, but you couldn't move. Not when his face was on the screen.

"Y/N?" Spencer asks softly.

You feel his hand come down onto your shoulder. His long, dexterous fingers softly stroke your shirt. Tears spring to your eyes and your back stiffens like a board. No, you can't show emotion. Not for him. Not for anyone.

"Excuse me," you say breathlessly before slipping away.

You hear the team calling out for you, but it only makes your legs move faster. Your braids slap against your back, timing your footsteps as they pick up the pace. Your piercing gaze locks onto the bathroom as you bob and weave through the police station, desperate to find privacy.

It felt like you couldn't breathe.

"Y/N!" someone calls out.

Your shoulder slams into the bathroom door. You rush to the sink. Your legs wobble as your ribcage catches the edge of the countertop. And as you take stock of your ebony face, now as pale as the puke tan walls that surrounded you, your stomach caves in on itself.

Before you vomit into the sink.

"Oh, God," you choke out as your breakfast comes up.

Your body locks out. A cold sweat drips down the nape of your neck. You white knuckle the edge of the bathroom countertop as his face rakes way through your mind, over and over, like a terrible nightmare you can't get rid of.

Your ex.

Holy fuck, your ex was the unsub.

"Here, I got your braids," Spencer says softly.

You whip your head up, staring at him with reddened eyes in the mirror. "This--is the--."

But, Spencer shakes his head softly. "You ran into the men's room, Y/N."

Your eyes graze over the mirror and settle on the corner of the urinal poking out in the reflection for you to see. Your entire body shivers. Your facade is dropping. It's crumbling, and your mother's voice in your head rings out louder than ever.

Buck it up, girl. This world won't care about you the way I do.

You can't speak. Every time you go to open your mouth and say anything, your stomach starts up again. The room tilts. The world spins on an axis of its own. And as your stomach turns itself inside out, you feel the rhythmic stroking of Spencer's hand against your damp.

You have to pull it together.

There's no other choice.

The worry grows in Spencer's voice. "It's okay. I've got your braids. Just let it out, Y/N."

"I'm--oh, God."

"Sh-sh-sh-sh-shhhh," he coos softly. "Get it out, then we can talk."

You shake your head as you struggle to gain control of your breathing. "I'm fine. It's fine. All is fine. I'm--."

You feel Spencer wrap your braids against your head, securing them in a self-imposed knot. Your brow furrows deeply as something cool starts fluttering against the nape of your neck. It's too much, and not enough. He's too close, and not close enough. And as you lift your head slowly, watching the beautiful man whom your eyes had taken straight to your heart, you can't help the words that fall out next.

"That's my ex, Spencer."

His eyes flash to yours in the reflection of the mirror as his body stills to stone. "Our unsub?"

Your lower lip quivers. "He's who--he, uh--he was--damn it"

And as the dry-heaving commences, the tears fall once again as your mother's voice racks your mind.

You're going to have to be strong in this world, princess. It's the only way you'll survive.

This world won't cherish you the way you want it to. It's best you learn those lessons now.

Show emotion to no one. They will weaponize it against you. That is your plight as a black woman in this world.

"Come here, we've gotta get you calmed down," Spencer says softly.

You shake your head with as much energy as you can muster, which to be honest, isn't much. "I'm okay, really. I just need to rinse my mouth and--."

That's when Spencer turns you to him, grips your chin, and tilts your puffy eyes up to his. "You're not fine, Y/N. You're far from it. But if you talk to me, I can help you."

Never trust the police, princess. They will never have their best interest at heart.

You pat your chest. "I can't--I can't catch--."

Spencer pulls you close, tucking your head against his chest. "I've got you. I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere."

And that's when the truth comes out. "He almost got me."

Spencer stills. "What?"

Your entire body racks itself with shivers. "One night, when I was sleeping over at his place, I woke up tied down to his bed."

It was Spencer's turn to vibrate, but not with sadness. He clings to you, smoothing his hands up and down your back. "What did he do to you?"

Your whimpers come softly. "Nothing. The knots weren't very well done. It was easy for me to slip out, and I just left. I left all of my things and I just--."

He buries his nose into your braids. "It's okay, I've got you. You are so brave, Y/N. My God, how strong you've had to be for so long, carrying that around."

"I swear to God, I didn't know. If I had known--."

He rocks you softly side to side. "You couldn't have possibly known. Men like him are good at what they do."

"But, it's my job, SeeSee," you whisper.

He nuzzles your gaze up to his before he looks you square in your eyes with a very serious face. "On the clock, yes. But, no one can possibly hold you to that same standard when you're off the clock. No one should have to live that way. And I don't know who convinced you that you needed to, but I'm determined to show you that you don't have to. Not if you don't want to."

Your eyes search his. "I don't even know if that's possible."

And as Spencer smooths away your tears with his thumb, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're not leaving my side for the rest of this case."

Your heart takes flight, even though your mouth is trained to say something else. "SeeSee, you don't--."

Then, he cups your cheeks and brings your face to his. "I'm not speaking to you right now, Y/N. I'm speaking to that voice in your head."

Shock roots you in place as you gaze up and to his stern hazel eyes.

"I'm speaking to the voice in your head that won't leave you alone. The voice that keeps chirping at you to stay strong, even when it is impossible. You've had a hold on this woman for far too long. You've taunted her long enough. And I don't care what it takes. And I don't care how long it takes. But, you will release this beautiful woman. No one will get to her so long as I'm around, not even you."

And for the first time in your entire life, your walls come tumbling down.

As you collapse into the man you love and sob for the girls you still feel you could have saved.

[wrecklessimagine]

heyyy just wondering, do you ever still write Elementary!Sherlock x reader? because i LOVE your writings a whole lot 😫😫 sorry to bother you!

I most certainly do, and can, if you'd like. I just need to know which Sherlock you want. Elementary, or BBC?

[wrecklessimagine]

You are an incredibly talented writer. I’ve read through ALL of your Criminal Minds fics and they’re amazing. Thank you for sharing your work with the world! Your angsty stuff is my fav. I adore Fighting for Family. There really isn’t much Rossi stuff out there and I’m so glad you have a bunch of Rossi fics. He’s so underrated. So much love to you 💖

There isn't a great deal of Rossi stuff, but I do have some Rossi prompts in my inbox that I will get to. So, expect some additions coming in the near future to our favorite Italian Stallion 🖤

[wrecklessimagine]

HOLY CRABAPPLES!!! I was so frickin' excited to see the notification for this blog pop up on my dash! I've missed you and I'm so happy your taking steps to live your best life!

I'm doing my absolute best, if nothing else for the sake of my son. Thank you so much for the warm welcome back 🖤

[wrecklessimagine]

HEY !! I am so glad that things turned out good for you. You are amazing and i am very excited to have you back so...WELCOME BACK!!

From the bottom of my heart, thank you so very much. 🖤

[wrecklessimagine]

how exciting!!!! so happy ur back :))

I'm happy to be back. Actually back, this time. Thank you for being so patient with me while I navigate this period of my life.

[wrecklessimagine]

HI HELLO I'VE MISSED YOU!!

I've missed you guys, too. 🖤

[wrecklessimagine]

God, I love you and your stories so much!

I adore you. Thank you for reaching out. During times like this, it means the absolute world 🖤

[wrecklessimagine]

Oh my God hi, after years, I decided to look up a blog I have never unfollowed, and I saw the hiatus end post you made, and the life updates, and you HAVE to know mine.

I was here just a little before your "Not Mandatory" series, and that series, singlehandedly saved my life. At the time you started it, I was living in my car with my mom, and we stayed usually in the walmart parking lots for safety and lights bathrooms etc, but what I was most grateful for was the wifi. I sat out in the little break area outside with some employees, and had my laptop plugged in just to be able to read, and reread the series. You gave me the best thing to look forward to, and today I have my apartment with my mom and kitties, and only just now have I seen your hiatus is kinda over post. I was so incredibly sad but also incredibly understanding about why the hiatus was needed, but oh my God you're back, I have never stopped wondering about you, and your son, and what has happened since then. (not in a weird way or anything, but like a I hope she's okay) type way.

So may I just say, thank you endlessly, and welcome back!!!

Your story brought tears to my eyes. I cannot possibly string together the right set of words to tell you how much your words touched me. It warms my heart to know that you are in a better space, with a safe roof over your head. I remember how freeing it felt when I finally stepped into my own apartment after my life dissolved from underneath me. I hope you took the time not only to celebrate, but to grieve. It is so imperative that we haven't equal balance of both, so that we can process and so that we can enjoy.

[wrecklessimagine]

Can I just say you're an absolute ANGEL for all of your writing? I am 100% adoring all of your Reid works!

Thank you so very much. I've missed my Spencer. Some days, I feel like he's the only person that may stand a chance at understanding me. I hope to bring you more content here in the near future.

[wrecklessimagine]

Hi friend! I sent an ask a few months ago, but I just want you to know again that your works have meant the WORLD to me, and I’m so happy to know you’re still around sometimes. Please know you, and what you do matter, and is cherished. Thank you for coming back for a visit ❤️🥹

I can't thank you enough for your kind words. Now that I've started the new multi-chapter fic, I'll be trying to work my way through some of these imagines I was sent. Hopefully, I'll get to yours soon. Y'all have waited on me long enough.

[wrecklessimagine]

Your blog has so many great stories and talk about you to my sister all the time about your fics. I hope all is well and I hope you are doing better. Thank you for writing again and leaving your blog open. You are amazing.

You words are so kind. Thank you so very much for sharing them with me 🖤

[wrecklessimagine]

Hello, everyone. Life has been challenging, and the post-pandemic existence is rough. My therapist encouraged me to find the last time I remembered being truly content, and I couldn't tear myself away from this blog. So, maybe writing will help give me some hope again. And, maybe, for you guys, too.

This story takes place after the last season of Criminal Minds. Things fall through with the girl we see him with because of the pandemic. In this multi-chapter fic, we will see a fully adult, grown Spencer, with his traumas, memories, and his addiction. He will still be running his one-month-on-one-month-teaching schedule as well.

For what it's worth, I hope you guys enjoy it.

Take Two

Staring at the blank walls of your new apartment, darkness overcame you. The sun finally set behind the tall concrete buildings that surrounded your new apartment, shrouding your uncurtained windows in the twinkling lights from the street. Cars raced past. People talked and laughed as they rushed by. The built-in bookshelves loomed over you with their empty caverns, seemingly laughing at the pathetic expanse of what you brought with you.

Six suitcases and two cardboard boxes.

That was all you had after six years of marriage. Six years of laughter. Six years of tears. Six years, two apartments, one rented home, and a broken heart.

Broken mind.

Broken soul...

The divorce had been hard.

The cold, harsh metal of the apartment keys in your hand contrasted the warmth cascading down your cheeks. Your entire foundation had crumbled beneath you. The man you thought you'd spend forever with left you for another woman.

Another couple, actually.

The divorce had been really hard.

It took you two and a half years to get back on your feet. To find some semblance of normalcy. To wrap your head around the fact that the divorce had, in fact, happened. That your ex-spouse wasn't, in fact, coming back. That it wasn't, in fact, a nightmare. That you really, honestly, were alone again. After baring your soul. Baring your past. Baring your body...

...to someone who threw you away like trash.

"Guess it could be worse," you muttered to yourself as you shoved the keys into the back pocket of your jeans.

That was the motto of the last two and a half years.

Guess it could be worse.

Looking around at the dark green walls trimmed with black accents, you heaved a heavy sigh. You had no furniture. No decorations. No pictures. Nothing but your clothes, toiletries, and the few books you owned.

The mere idea of rebuilding exhausted your dwindling energy stores.

Knock, knock, knock. "Hello?"

You whipped around at the sound of the lilting voice behind you. "Huh?"

The door to your apartment creaked open, revealing a tall, slender man with curious hazel eyes and brown hair that could only be described as dramatic.

He waved his slender fingers in the air softly. "Hello, new neighbor."

You blinked. "Across the hall?"

He thumbed over his shoulder. "Yep, that's me."

"Do you always go around opening random people's doors?"

He didn't skip a beat. "The door was cracked already."

"Oh."

His soft smile grew cockeyed. "Hi."

You nodded slowly. "Hello."

You watched as he peeked around the edge of the door at your empty new apartment. God, you could only imagine what he thought.

"I'm Spencer, by the way," the man said as he held out his hand when the door has finally swung all the way open.

You looked at it before walking toward him, shaking his hand softly. "Y/N."

His cockeyed smile grew, lighting up his eyes. "Well, it's nice to finally have a neighbor."

You still hadn't dropped his hand. "Finally?"

He snickered, not dropping your hand either. "Yeah. It's been vacant for a little while."

"Why? This place haunted or something?"

His smile grew so big that it closed his eyes. "You'd think so, with how hard my landlord's been trying to fill the place."

"I'll let you know if the ghosts come with any juicy gossip."

He chuckled. "Perfect. I love a good bit of gossip."

Was it weird to still be holding the man's hand? Yes, you determined, it's still very weird. So, you quickly dropped it and cleared your throat.

"Sorry about that," you mumbled beneath your breath.

The man named Spencer cleared his throat. "Well, I don't wanna hold you up. I just wanted to introduce myself. You know, neighbor to neighbor."

You turned back to your empty apartment. "I appreciate that."

"And if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to knock on my door. This month, I'll be home a great deal more than usual."

Your brow ticked in curiosity and you peered over your shoulder. "This month?"

He nodded as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "It's my work schedule. I travel heavily for a month, then I stay put and teach for a month."

That turned your body back toward him. Like a gravitational pull you couldn't escape. "What do you teach?"

He snickered as he tilted his head. "Sure you wanna know? It's kind of... dark."

You felt your curiosity piquing for the first time since your divorce. In fact, the conversation with your newfound neighbor was the longest one you'd had with anyone since your divorce.

And you didn't hate it.

"You'd be surprised what I can tolerate," you said.

The man's eyes grew focused as he stared you down. Almost as if he were studying you.

"I work for the FBI," he said after clearing his throat. "When I'm not out on cases, I'm teaching classes on profiling serial killers."

You felt your eyebrows hike up onto your forehead. "Wow."

"What do you do?"

"Nothing as impressive as you."

A grin ticked his cheek. "You do me, huh?"

You sucked in a short breath of air. "No, no. Not like that. I just meant--."

He chuckled again. "I know what you meant. Just trying to break the tension."

The sound wafted over you like red wine over a King's tongue. Velveteen and soft, it was as innocent as they came. You felt it disarming your senses. Your nostrils flared. Your shoulders relaxed. Your breathing leveled out. And as the ending sound trickled from his lips, you found yourself wanting to illicit the sound again.

It was the first time something had been pleasant since your divorce.

The first time you felt anything since your divorce.

"So," your new neighbor said as he took the smallest of steps through the door's threshold, "do you have any furniture that needs to come up?"

Reality came slamming into you and you quickly turned away from him. "No."

"Well, if it's coming later, I could-."

You sighed heavily. "I don't have furniture coming because I don't have furniture."

"Oh."

Your shoulders tightened again as you steeled yourself against the world. You'd wasted enough of your neighbor's precious time. After all, he had more important things to do. Lives to save.

Lives that were more important than yours.

"It was lovely meeting you, new neighbor Spencer."

His voice came soft, as if he were trying not to spook a fawn. "The pleasure is mine."

"If you don't mind, could you close the door in your way out?

"Of course. It was nice to meet you, new neighbor Y/N."

You shook your head softly as tears arrested your voice. "Your attempt at a compliment is kind, but not necessary. Have a good evening."

He paused for a long time. "You, too."

And the second you heard your door click closed, you let the tears fall. Tears you allowed to flood your neck as you waited for his door across the hall to open... and close.

Before your trembling hands snatched your car keys off the kitchen countertop.

I need an air mattress.

[wrecklessimagine]

Part One

“Wall Street experts are expecting Brainsly’s stocks to drop another four points before they find their footing. But with rumors of investors backing out of projects and companies going under rather than accepting help, it seems that Dr. Reid might have bitten off more than he can chew. Back to you, Danielle.”

Grabbing the remote, I turned off the television before I threw it across my office. The sun was shining through my windows, but what I really wanted was to douse it in darkness and call it a day. My bare hands. I’d built my holding company with my bare hands. It started as a measly investment during my undergrad and grew into one of the largest conglomerates in the nation.

And now, it was tanking.

“Dr. Reid?”

“What?” I asked.

“I have some news.”

“Can it wait, Brenda?”

“I figured you’d want to know of Anthony’s arrest.”

I whipped my head up and looked at my personal assistant. A young girl I’d hired during her senior year of college had turned into a full-time position for a woman I had come to lean on greatly. She’d learned my routines and how I took my coffee. Her note-taking skills in meetings with investors was excellent. My life was organized more than I could’ve ever imagined and my schedule on my computer was color-coated and hooked up to hers. When she descended into my life, things had fallen into place. And in return, I paid her way above what most personal assistants were paid.

It was the least she deserved, and I didn’t want there to be any reason on her end to walk away from her job.

“When was he arrested?” I asked.

“Just got the call. He was hiding out in a motel, apparently. Had a one-way ticket to the Maldives.”

“No extradition treaty and decadent. Anthony was always a selfish prick. Remind me again why I didn’t see this coming?”

“Because no one expects their COO to embezzle thirty million dollars, sir.”

“Brenda?”

“Yeah?”

“Take the day off. There’s no reason for you to be here.”

“If you’re here, then I should be here,” she said.

“Go home to your husband and that beautiful daughter of yours. Take the long weekend. I’ll see you Monday.”

“But sir-”

“Go, Brenda. And turn off the light.”

I listened to her backtrack out of my office. The room went dark as I sighed and leaned myself into my reclining leather office chair. It was all too much. My company was now in the middle of one of the biggest embezzlement scandals the U.S. had ever witnessed, investors were ducking me left and right, companies I’d taken on to revamp and restructure were choosing to die rather than accept my help. All of the good work and all of the charities my company single-handedly kept afloat now paled in comparison to the stories the press were running.

Stories of how a businessman with two doctorates couldn’t see his own damn COO stealing millions underneath his nose.

I had no idea what I was going to do. I’d have to find a way to raise the funds again, which meant getting back out there and peddling the streets for investors. The ones that were still on the board weren’t going to try and foot thirty millions dollars to get us back on track, even with the money I’d made them over the years. They were greedy, greasy little men I had to butter up in order to get them on board for new projects. And though I was a shark in those board meetings, it wasn’t like they weren’t a pain in my ass.

But with my stocks plummeting and the value of my company dropping, it was going to be hard to find new investors to take on without a heft price.

And I wasn’t sure it could be done.

Rolling my fingers up in my purple scarf, I sighed. There were so many late nights ahead of me and so many press releases I would have to give. That meant paying my Public Relations department overtime in order for them to recreate my image in the public eye, and with the thirty-million dollar hit my company just took I wasn’t sure if it was possible.

Then, my phone rang.

“This is Spencer.”

“Should I continue calling you ‘doctor’? Or are you willing to let me call you ‘brother’ now?”

I felt my blood run cold in my veins as red dripped along my vision.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“So... no to the ‘brother’?” Grayson asked.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m still trying to figure out how to address you,” he said.

“I can’t do this now. Goodbye, Grayson.”

“I hear you’re in need of thirty million dollars.”

“I’d rather gnaw my left leg off than ask you for help,” I said.

“Your pride has always been a point of contention.”

“Really? Is that what you remember from our college days? Or have you been creeping around here and watching from the shadows?”

“That was one time, brother. You really don’t have a sense of humor.”

“You were hired to take out one of my investors, Grayson! How is that funny!?”

“It was a nice family bonding moment,” he said.

“You and I have two very different definitions of family bonding. Want to know mine? I can tell you what it doesn’t have. Ten years of fucking silence, Grayson. That’s what it doesn’t have.”

“Has it really been ten years since that incident in your boardroom meeting?”

“Go to hell.”

I hung up the phone on my desk as my hands began to tremble. What in the world was he doing calling my office? And how the hell did he even have my number!? I hadn’t talked to my twin brother in over a decade. Ever since he chose the ‘career path’ he had. Instead of coming on with me and growing Brainsly, Inc. side by side like we should’ve, he took his passions elsewhere.

Mainly, underground.

My phone began to ring again and I picked it up. I knew who it was, but I couldn’t chance the rare moment that it might be a reporter wanting a quote. It would look really bad to the media if I started hanging up on reporters like that, so I put the receiver to my ear and stayed silent.

“I can hear you breathing,” Grayson said.

But still, all I did was sit there.

“Fine, if you don’t wish to talk, then listen. I can loan you the money.”

I snickered and shook my head as I turned myself towards the window.

“Fine, give it to you. I can give you the money.”

“You can give me thirty million dollars. Just like that,” I said.

“Just like that.”

“No questions asked.”

“None,” he said.

“No strings?”

“None whatsoever.”

“This your way of trying to buy my forgiveness for dropping off the face of the planet after college?” I asked.

“So you and I had different life ambitions. It happens with twins. We look alike, but we aren’t exactly alike, Spencer.”

“Being different is you choosing a different profession. Not becoming a-”

“Choose your words wisely, brother.”

“What? Because someone might be wiretapping me right now for simply being related to you?” I asked.

“Possibly. Moreso because I wouldn’t want you saying something you might regret.”

“Like ‘fuck off and don’t call me again’?” I asked.

“We can start with that, sure. So, how would you like me to wire you the thirty million?”

“Let’s start off with what strings are attached to this.”

“I told you. None.”

“Grayson, I work in this world. If I’m going to fork over money to any company, I’m taking a slice of it. How do you think I built Brainsly?” I asked.

“Well and with a great deal of knowledge. Those doctorates in Business and Psychology did you a world of good. But you’re playing by my rules now. And they’re different.”

“Ah, so no strings, but rules,” I said.

“Yep.”

“Fine. What are these rules?”

“Rule number one, I choose your next COO.”

“Not a chance,” I said with a snicker.

“Rule number two-”

“I didn’t agree to rule number one,” I said.

“You will be the time I’m done with my list.”

“And how many of these rules are there?” I asked.

“Three. Now will you shut that mouth of yours, brother? It’s getting very tiresome.”

I bit down on my tongue as Grayson drew in a deep breath.

“Rule number two, the thirty million is given to you in three stages of ten million each in suitcases of cash.”

“God, I feel like a sleazy slumlord.”

“And rule number three, I protect you.”

“You what?” I asked.

“You’re very vulnerable right now, Spencer. That’s not good. I’ve caught a few glimpses of you on the television. You’re walking around like some regular joe in a scarf and a peacoat. I look at you and can find seven different ways to kill you without you seeing my face or me ever drawing my gun.”

“Gee, no wonder you stick to the shadows,” I said.

“Those are my conditions. Think of is as more bonding time.”

“While you and your mercenaries follow me around.”

“Personal asset protection is the term we prefer under these circumstances.”

“That the legal part of your business?” I asked.

“I really need to teach you how to hold your tongue. Take it or leave it. Those three rules in exchange for the thirty million you need to stabilize over the course of three months.”

“Then you’ll leave?” I asked.

“Do you want me to?”

“Do I have a choice? You left after college and you left after trying to kill someone on my board of investors. You’ll leave after this, too... won’t you?”

There was a silence that fell over the conversation and it hurt. As much as I hated my brother for what he did-- guns for hire and mercenaries and organizing hit men-- I missed him. I missed our connection. I missed making memories with him and drinking with him and scouting women with him. I missed the parties we used to throw and the books we would trade off reading and the nights we’d spend talking in front of a fireplace because neither of us could sleep.

I missed Grayson, even though he was an asshole.

“Do you want to save your company or not?” he asked.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I said.

“That’s not the question on the table right now.”

“To me, it is. Will you be leaving after my company gets back on its feet?”

I heard my brother draw in a deep breath before he mumbled something off in the distance.

“I’m willing to put that talking point on the table if you take my help. You need it, Spencer. Let me help you.”

“Done,” I said. “I agree to your terms.”

[wrecklessimagine]

Trifecta... A Spencer Reid Twins AU

When Doctor Spencer Reid– the multi-billionaire owner and CEO of Brainsly, Inc.– finds his company stumbling financially, all he can do is blame himself. With doctorates in both Business and Psychology, he prides himself in his ability to see all angles. To see all outcomes. To predict all possible avenues.

But he didn’t see this.

He didn’t predict his COO would start embezzling from his company.

Doctor Reid’s investors are now on edge. With the break of the scandal to the media, his reputation is being ripped to shreds. His stocks are nose-diving. Those he’s trying to help are backing out of deals. Spencer’s watching his entire life crumble away, and he’s scrambling to figure out what he can do to fix it. What he can do to restore his legacy and get back to the way things were.

But an unlikely surprise from his absent twin brother forces Spencer to see things from a different perspective. It forces him to confront memories he buried and emotions he swallowed down into the darkness. The anger that used to blind him about Grayson is now the one thing that binds the two together. And when Spencer hires a third-party financial consultant to help right his ship with an unbiased opinion, a spirit of competition ignites between him and his brother.

Will Spencer be able to save his company? Will Grayson be able to win back his brother? Or will the competition between the two of them over a quiet financial adviser ruin their chances before they get the chance?

Stay tuned, everyone. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.

PART ONE