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aperrywilliams · 9 months

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More Than You Know (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credit to the creator)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: You’re Spencer's best friend. You have gone through many things together, but after Spencer is incarcerated, things turn different for both of you. Not to mention you have been in love with him for a long time too. How much will you endure until you can’t take it anymore?

Word Count: 5.9k

TW: ANGST. Strong language. Mention of abduction, drug use, getting shot, death of relatives and loved ones, jail, pregnancy, unsafe sex, and potential cheating. All the deal!

A/N: Not a happy ending, at least for Spencer and Reader. Do you think they could have a chance in the future? (I wrote it as a one-shot, but it makes me kind of sad). Let me know what you think.

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I don’t have the habit of arriving early at work. I only do it when it is strictly required. I’m not a morning person. I have never been. So you can guess how my mood turns dark when people push me to let go of some minutes of my precious morning sleep, even when Spencer is the one who asks me to.

He called me this morning at 6 am, telling me he needed to talk to me in person. So we agreed to grab a coffee in our usual place before work.

"Thanks for coming," Spencer greets me when I arrive. A harsh expression adorns his features while I sit in the booth before him.

I can’t help the yawn escaping my lips.

“Did I have a choice?” I ask, gesturing to the barista for my regular order.

“I need to talk to you,” he prefaces, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He looks distressed. I narrow my eyes, thinking about what could be causing it.

“Yeah, that’s what you said by phone when you woke me up this morning. Why you didn’t tell me there what’s going on?”

“I couldn't tell you by phone,” he excuses himself as the barista approaches and hands me my coffee. I thank her, returning my gaze to my friend.

My mind starts racing with possibilities, and my heartbeat picks up its rate.

“Something happened to your mom?” I ask cautiously. Spencer shakes his head immediately.

“No. My mom is okay.”

Well, that discards a big issue so that I can breathe a little.

“Nightmares again?”

I can recall how bad nightmares could be for Spencer. Since Hankel and passing by Emily’s dead, Maeve, and then prison, Spencer is a lightning rod for nightmares.

“No. Not in a while.”

Good. Another bad thing out of the list.

“Headaches?”

A big issue that worsened after Doyle stabbed Emily and led Spencer to Maeve.

“No. I’m good with that.”

Okay, I’m running out of options here. Is it the job?

“The bureau wants you to take longer sabbaticals?”

“No! Not that either.”

I give up. I don’t think anything is important enough to make me be here before 7 am.

“Spencer, I’m lost. Just tell me what’s going on,” I urge, running out of patience and dying to know what this is about.

"It's about Alison," he clarifies, and I can’t help but groan.

Seriously? The problem is a girl?

"Alison?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, the girl I'm seeing lately?" He adds to help my recall. I know Alison, but I won't waste a chance to mess with Spencer, especially considering he made me up early for this.

"I'm sorry. I don't remember that one. I lost track after Lonna," I shrug. Spencer rolls his eyes, knowing what I’m doing.

"Not now, (Y/N). This is important,” he scolds.

I look at him incredulously. What could be so important about a girl he's seeing?

"Okay, okay. Don't be so dense. What happens with the gorgeous Alison?" I ask, sipping my coffee.

"She may be pregnant," he suddenly says with a grimace.

"What?!" I squeal, almost choking on the coffee in my mouth. Spencer looks around us to see if someone is listening to our conversation.

"Shush! You wanna me repeat what I just said?" he whisper-shouts.

"Come on, Spencer. You must be kidding me.”

I take a napkin to clean the mess I made with my coffee.

“I’m afraid I’m not.”

“How come you, from all the people, don't know what birth control and condoms are?"

Spencer's cheeks flush. He is embarrassed, but his need to confide in someone is greater.

This is eating him alive.

"May I forget to use one a while ago? I mean, we were in a rush, and-" I cut him off.

"No. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to know the details of your sex life. I'm just concerned about how reckless you have become, honestly.”

The last part isn’t intended to sound that rough. Spencer is a grown man who can do whatever he pleases with his life, but I‘m worried about him. Since prison happened, he has been stumbling and making poor decisions, including fooling around with women.

Spencer's gaze drops to the floor, just like a child being scolded by his parents. I hate to see him like this. I hate to see him hurting and lost. So I recant my grown-up role this time.

"Spencer, look at me." I pause until his eyes meet mine. "I'm sorry if it was harsh; I'm just worried, okay? Now tell me, Alison told you?"

He shakes his head.

"Not directly. But she told me she's been feeling sick, and this morning I - I heard her throwing up. And I am almost sure she didn't have her period last month," Spencer recounts each fact as his breathing picks up.

Great. A panic attack is what I needed now.

"Hey, hey. Just breathe, okay?" I urge, calling his attention. He nods and slowly does what I say.

After a minute, he starts to feel better to speak.

"What should I do?" Spencer groans, with both hands grabbing his head.

In a twisted way, I found the scene comical.

Spencer is asking me what to do. To me.

I mean, what could I even tell him? He's my friend, but this is far ahead of what I could advise someone for.

Let alone someone who I have feelings for.

Yeah. That's the hard truth.

Cliche as it sounds, I have feelings for my best friend. A man who will never reciprocate those feelings. That's how fuck up the situation is.

But after years of keeping that secret, I learned how to mask everything for the sake of our friendship and our jobs.

"For starters, we don't know if she is pregnant. Maybe it is just your paranoia. We must be sure, so you must ask her," I instruct. Spencer looks at me in horror as if I just said he needed to jump from the 20th floor.

"What? No! I can't do that!"

"You can, and you will. You can't keep stressing out about something you don't even know!"

"And what if she is? I should marry her?" My eyes widened at that.

And the people call him a genius.

"Spencer, don't rush to the next town when you haven't stepped in this one first. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You both need to talk and decide if things turn that way, okay?"

He lets out a deep exhale.

"Okay. Okay. You're right."

Even if I want to slap him right now, I know I will never do it. Squeezing his shoulder affectionately, I let out my following words.

"You'll figure it out. Whatever it is, you'll know what to do, and I'll be by your side, okay? You're not alone."

Spencer looks at me with gratitude and a hint of relief. He knows I’m genuine in my statement. He knows I’ll be by his side no matter what.

It always has been that way.

We joined the team almost at the same time. While Jason Gideon recruited Spencer, Aaron Hotchner recruited me. Gideon insisted that Spencer’s brain and knowledge about everything would be an enormous asset to the team. Hotch did the same with me, pointing out how my interpersonal skills and impressive field experience would be valuable to the job. Different reasons, same outcome: being the newest made us closer. And not a long time after, we became best friends.

I was there when Spencer got abducted by Tobias Hankel. I was there when he struggled with his drug addiction. I consoled him when Gideon left and then when he died years later. I cared for him when he got shot in the knee and neck. We cried together when Emily ‘died.’ And after what happened to Maeve, I was there for all steps on the way. The last straw was Mexico and the three months in Millburn. I never missed a visit, and I was by his side when he had to talk to Cat Adams.

And the same way I have been for him, he has been for me. A few months after I joined the team, I got shot in the shoulder, and Spencer helped me a lot. He rode the ambulance with me when I got shot again in the abdomen three years later. He was with me when my dad passed away. Spencer comforted me when one of my long-term boyfriends dumped me. He took a serious role in rooting for me whenever I doubted myself in the job and life.

We know each other like the palm of our hands.

Everybody would have thought our friendship was forged to everlast. And I‘m still adamant about making it that way, even if after a few years of knowing each other, I realized I‘m in love with Spencer. How could I not?

Even at some point, those feelings could have been reciprocal. I noticed things between us changed after Hotch and Morgan left the team.

The stolen glances, the little touches, the overprotectiveness, the subtle flirting. I indulged myself with the idea that it was a natural turn to us be more than friends.

But then Mexico happened.

And things changed for Spencer and me.

The moment we understood what happened and that Spencer would be locked until we could find who did this to him, I didn't rest. I didn't sleep. I barely eat. But I put a brave face on him. I knew he was having the worst time there, so I was who encouraged him every chance I got.

But it didn't matter how hard we tried, how hard I tried. Spencer locked himself and didn't let anyone in. The day he was released, I hugged him first and felt some normalcy. He said how much he missed me, how much he missed us all.

Things went well for a while, but I could tell Spencer wasn't okay. He talked less; he looked distant and disaffected. Sure, Spencer was trying to cope with everything. And as before, I tended my hand to him to hold. And in a way, he took it, but not how it would help him heal.

Our relationship turned instrumental, at least for him.

He started failing in the job, lying to Emily about his whereabouts when he ran late. His mind was distracted more often. If he was reckless at the job before, now it was worse. He snapped more too. And for every time, I was there to cover him up. That's how everyone assumed he was still finding his balance, but I wasn't so sure.

Things worsened when Spencer discovered sex was an excellent way to release frustration. At first, I didn't think it could be a big deal. Getting laid wasn't a big deal. Not ideal for me, but I suppressed my jealousy for his sake. I would choose his well-being ten thousand times before my stupid love for him.

Still, things have not improved. Almost a year after Millburn, Spencer keeps stumbling, getting into trouble, and does not act as he should. I know I have my responsibility quote, but I'm too involved in this cycle to break it.

I want to say at least I have my friend, but that isn’t entirely true. Every time I have needed him in the past year, he hasn't been there. I could tell he hadn’t even noticed I had been losing weight or the doctor’s appointment I had to attend for feeling sick.

I’m alone by myself. It's sad, but I can’t force him. I’m not like that. I would never beg for affection from anyone who doesn’t want to give it, even if I needed it. People would say it is the wrong way, but I cannot be otherwise.

Some days after our coffee shop conversation, Spencer rushes to my desk to tell me the ‘good news.’ False alarm. Alison isn’t pregnant.

Spencer looks relaxed and relieved. Maybe it’s the wake-up call he needs to slow down. My hope is short-lived, though, because while he tells me everything, his phone ding. A smirk appears on his face when he sees the incoming text.

“What is it?” I ask, and Spencer bites his lower lip.

“I have a date,” he answers, typing on his phone.

“With Alison?” I narrow my eyes. He looks at me when he’s done sending the message.

“No! Of course not. I’m not going to make the same mistake again. I told her I needed time to think,” he explains like he’s talking about the weather.

“So you’re going to meet another girl without breaking up with Alison?”

“You can’t break up with someone you’re not officially involved with,” Spencer shrugs.

I want to kill him right now.

“God, Spencer. What are you doing?”

The question is primarily rhetorical, but Spencer answers nonetheless.

“Living, (Y/N). I’m living for the first time in my life.”

Can I argue with that logic? Sure. There is so much I can tell him. But I’m tired. Spencer doesn't see or hear reasons. Not even from me. It seems I have lost the privilege of being listened to by him.

Since that talk, I can’t stop thinking about what I am doing. Am I clasping onto something it doesn't exist anymore?

I don’t know the answer, and I don’t know if I want to get one. I’m just holding until I can’t do it anymore.

And that's how time flies. Things look relatively the same, and I'm just trying to float so I don't drown.

We just ended a gruesome case in Arizona. Our jet landed an hour ago, and everyone is in the mood for a drink. Rossi and Matt are the only ones with excuses to go home early.

Once there, Penelope grabs Luke’s hands and drags him to the dance floor. JJ offers to get us some drinks. Emily volunteers to help her.

Spencer is quiet, looking at me, but I barely notice. My mind is elsewhere.

“Are you okay?” He asks. The question takes me by surprise. In the past weeks, we haven’t talked that much.

“Yeah. Good. The case, you know?”

Spencer nods, but I see the worry lingering.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

I want to say I believe him, but I don’t. It’s been months since I felt that close to him. But even if I don’t believe him, I may voice my concern again.

“I don’t know,” I preface, and Spencer’s attention is full on me. It's weird, to say the least, but I will take the chance. “There is this thing bugging me. About our-” I can’t end my idea before the sound of someone squealing ‘Spencer!’ reach our ears.

The man in question snaps his head up. It's Alison. Before I can say anything, he stands, and after mumbling a ‘sorry,’ he goes to the girl calling his name.

There it goes. Nothing. Again.

I sigh before sipping my drink. What was I hoping, anyway?

JJ and Emily return to our table and ask for Spencer. Not even looking behind, I gesture to my back. They understand.

We set for drinking and complaining about whatever comes to mind. I know they know, but they are respectful enough not to push me.

The night is progressing, and I enroll in conversation with Luke and Penelope when they return from their dancing. After they leave, Emily cracks jokes to make me laugh, and JJ does her best to lose a little.

The sound of glass crushing gets our attention to the bar. There he was. Spencer is between two girls who are arguing about something. I recognize Alison, but not the other one.

“Ups. Someone is in trouble,” Emily mused. JJ shakes her head in a disapproving mood. I see Spencer’s eyes darting between the girls and trying to soothe the argument, failing miserably.

I ponder my options. I can leave him to deal with his mess for once or give him a hand. Emily reads my mind.

“Are you sure?” she asks. I shrug, standing from my spot.

“I wouldn’t like to see him complaining because one of those girls broke a bottle on his head.”

I stroll to where the action is happening, morphing my annoyed look into a confident one.

"Hey baby, I was looking for you!” I chirp, using the most loving voice as my arms wrap around Spencer’s torso.

The girls don’t look happy with my intrusion.

"We were talking with Spencer," Alison says as if I don't know that.

"Yeah, he was about to explain who he’ll choose between us," the other girl adds.

If I could have rolled my eyes, I would do it. Are they that naive? But they have a point: maybe Spencer would do what they want under pressure, even if he doesn't like it. That's why I‘m here. I know him.

"I'm so sorry, girls, but you got it wrong. This man is mine, and believe me when I tell you, you should be walking away right now. You don't want to mess with me, his wife, and the mother of his child waiting for us at home, right baby?" Now I talk to him.

Spencer's mouth goes agape, even more than Alison's and the other girl's.

"Your what?!" Alison yells. Her eyes are a few inches to pop out of their sockets.

"You have a child?!" The other looks as shocked as Alison.

Spencer only stutters incoherent words. They aren’t needed, though. After cursing him and letting out a bunch of expletives, both girls stomp out of the bar.

That’s when I notice I still have my arms around him. I pull away and clear my throat.

"You're welcome," I say before turning into my heels.

Spencer wraps my wrist to stop me. His eyes are curious, examining my features as if reading me. I return an annoyed look.

"What?"

"Why did you do it?" He asks as if he is really intrigued by my actions. It may feel more natural for me than for him.

"To save your ass? Come on, Reid. They would have eaten you alive," I scoff. Spencer chuckles, knowing that it is what could have happened.

"Yeah. But why you saved my ass? You could have feasted with the scandal."

I shrug. For a second, it crossed my mind just to be honest and give him a piece of my mind. But it‘s dangerous territory, so I opt for the safer way.

"That's what the friends are for. Even if you deserve being kicked in your ass sometimes," I try to sound light like it isn’t a big deal.

"Friends, uh?" Spencer points, mulling my words. I don't know why that specific word interests him, but I don’t read into it. "Well, thank you, then."

Now he is grinning as if a heavy weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

"You're going home?" I ask, thinking Spencer only wants to disappear from the bar after the recent events. He narrows his eyes and shakes his head like I’m talking nonsense.

"No. Not when I'm free to have a good time, at last."

"What?"

"Do you see those girls over there?" He points with his look to a group of women giggling and drinking on the opposite side of the bar.

My stomach drops to my feet as I look at him in disbelief.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"To you? I would never. You're my best friend. Thanks again," Spencer says warmly before kissing my cheek and strolling to the group he has spotted.

And here I am, standing in the middle of the bar, with words stuck in my throat and the feeling that the last 10 minutes hadn't even happened. The bartender stares at me with that empathetic look that reflects more pity than anything else. I look back at him and ask for a drink. Since I’m there, I won’t waste the chance of alcohol replacing the burning I already feel in my stomach.

"Don't tell me. You saved his ass just to let him have the chance to screw it up again," Emily summarizes when I return to the table with my drink. Both have seen all the action in the bar that transpired a while ago.

"That's what the friends are for, right?" I mockingly parrot my own words. JJ scoffs.

"I don't doubt your loyalty to Spence. But don't you think it's too much? I mean, you cover him in all your capacities, and he's not taking any responsibility for his actions," she proffers. Emily nods in agreement.

"He has been through a lot. He's lost and needs help," I argue, sipping my vodka.

"We know that. But it's time Spencer takes the reign of his life. Also, it's time you focus on your own," Emily says, pointing her index finger at me.

"What do you mean?" I ask defensively.

And there are again the pity looks.

"We know you have feelings for him. That's more than friendship, we can tell. But it's not going anywhere, and you know it. When was the last time you dated, uh?" JJ questions. Her words stab me right in my chest. I let out a deep sigh.

"Exactly." Emily seconds. "You need to think about what's healthy for you. That doesn't mean you don't care about Spencer, but he must figure it out himself."

As a cue, I turn to look at the bar direction. Spencer wraps his arm around a girl's waist, his lips ghosting her ear, whispering God knows what but making the girl giggle.

JJ and Emily are right. I’m not genuinely helping him. It is just the faint hope that I could make him see me. Really see me.

After another drink with the girls, I decide to go home.

And I decide it is time to let him go.

But honestly speaking, what does that mean? It's not that feelings can disappear overnight. It's not that one day you wake up and say, "That's enough." At the end of the day - feelings aside - Spencer is my friend, and he trusts me even in his darkest moments. But the girls are right when they say friendship goes both ways. It doesn't work if he can't respect my boundaries.

So I went over my limits. What am I willing to tolerate, and what am I not? In the first place, I won’t cover him up in lies in front of the team anymore. If he has to take a scolding from Emily for being irresponsible, so be it. Second, I won’t put up with being the go-to person for any of his mess with women. And finally, I’m not going to justify his behavior to anyone. If anyone has a problem with him, they should tell him directly. I would no longer be an interlocutor between Spencer Reid and the rest of the world.

It didn’t pass long before those limits were tested again.

Some days after what happened at the bar, I arrived at the BAU for a new case. We scheduled the meeting in the conference room at 9:00.

It’s 9:05, and Spencer still has yet to arrive. As expected, everyone is asking me what happened to Reid. I shrug. At the same time, Spencer texts me, saying he is running late and asking me to say he had a problem on the subway. I know it isn’t true, so I pretend I never got the message. That brought him explaining himself to Emily when he arrived all disheveled at 9:30.

Things like that keep happening. Spencer keeps showing up late for work and lies about the reasons. Sometimes he is nowhere to see in the bullpen, only to reappear with his hair untamed and his shirt partially untucked. Those times, opposite to the previous ones, I don’t tell him to fix himself.

Not to mention the number of calls and texts he has sent me in unholy hours to ask me what he should do about his new conquers. Calls and texts I start to ignore. That last behavior is what he resented the most, I could tell.

One morning he shows up at the conference room where I’m checking a stack of files scattered over the table. The rest of the team minding their own business downstairs.

"Are you mad at me?" He bluntly asks. I raise an eyebrow, looking at him from my manila folder.

"No. I'm not,” I reply, unbothered. But if I know Spencer enough, he will not be satisfied with my answer.

"Yes, you are. You have been avoiding me. Last night I called you, and you didn't answer."

He is the one mad at me. Or at least upset. Which one was it? It doesn’t matter; he feels ignored, and he hates it.

"I was sleeping,” I answer with the same flat tone. That spurs more of his anger.

"That's not true. You don't hit the pillow before 1 am!"

Well, Spencer does pay attention, at least for that kind of thing. Months ago, I would have felt flattered. Now? It feels void and just to his service.

"Maybe last night I did."

Spencer scoffs this time.

"I don't think so. I know you (Y/N),” he defies. Maybe he thought I would bite the bullet and apologize for ignoring him.

"Whatever. Why you called me, anyway? Did you want to tell me how your new girl screamed your name in bed?" I deadpan.

Spencer’s eyes widened.

"What?! No! I- I just,” he pauses. “I just wanted to talk to you!"

“Why?” I interject.

I’m so tired of this. I’m tired of the real reasons why Spencer needs me.

His face flushes, thinking of his following words.

“I - uh. We haven’t talked in a long time. Our last movie night was a month ago. And you haven’t called me either. I miss you,” he mumbles.

I huff a laugh. Does he really think I would believe that?

“You see me every day here, Reid,” I say with the same monotonous tone, returning my gaze to the file I’m reading.

Reid. That should have been the sign he searches for, even if his mind isn’t clear enough to put two and two together.

He scoots closer, softly bending down the file in my hands.

“(Y/N), hey. Please, talk to me. Don’t let me in the dark,” he pleads. I turn my gaze away from him. The sadness and the anger boil inside. It’s exhausting.

“I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. I want to fix it. Tell me what it is,” Spencer insists, this time with a hand over mine.

I glance at him in silence. Could a look be enough to convey everything stuck in my chest? Years ago, it could have worked with Spencer. The friendship we had back then was stronger enough to make that happen. Just a look, and each one knew what the other was thinking. Now it is just noise that could or not mean something.

How he looks at me now, lost in the signs I‘m giving him and eager for me to say something, tells me what I already know. I wonder if I would let it out this time or bottle it up again.

“I’m just tired, you know?”

My mouth works on its own accord. My brain isn’t able to stop it. Spencer examines my face looking for something to anticipate what could be coming. His clueless is irritating.

“I’m tired of hoping you can realize how badly you hurt yourself—and waiting for you to do something about it,” I blurt, knowing this is not what he wants to hear.

“What do you mean?” He asks, leaning back in a defensive mode.

“You know exactly what I mean. You are failing yourself, Spencer. You still can’t stand your ground. And you keep ignoring it!”

I punctuate my statement by shoving the file over the table. Spencer gets startled by my action.

“If you are talking about what happened the other night in the bar. It doesn't -” He explains, but I cut him off.

“No! It's everything! Can’t you see it? It's the way you lie to your teammates, the way you do your job, like it doesn't matter to you. The way you turn everything into something meaningless. The relationships you have, your job, your friends. Everything!”

Spencer’s face steels. I know he doesn't like being called out. He hates that. But I wouldn’t spare him the trouble this time.

“You are being unfair (Y/N),” he says with gritted teeth, standing to put some distance from me.

“Am I? Oh, no. If something I’m sure of is the unfairness doesn't fall on me.”

I spit back, standing as well to show him I wouldn’t back off. After running his hands through his hair, he turns to me. He has a look of betrayal on him.

Betrayal? The audacity of this man.

"Yes! You are! You, better than anyone, know it hasn't been easy for me! Life - life in Millburn changed me, and it has been so difficult to settle it down. You know that! Those were the worst three months of my life!"

Millburn. It was like a prohibited word for us. He didn't like to say it or hear it from me.

"So that gives you the right to ruin the good things in your life, uh? Because you are a lost soul in this world?” I try to reason, but that only gives me a burlesque laugh from him.

"And what if it were so? It's not like I have much to lose, right?"

And there it is—the broken man. The guy who still believes no one loves him and he doesn't deserve to be loved. All the years of work to put those walls down returned to zero after he got imprisoned.

"Do you really believe that? Do you really believe your self-destructive behavior only affects you? I didn't think you were so selfish, Spencer."

Although I know the answer, I ask nonetheless. And even though I know that selfishness isn’t something Spencer deliberately wants, maybe voicing it could help me to bring him back.

“Selfish? Says the person I trusted with my life, and now it’s throwing everything back to me?”

Or not.

“Stop doing that! Stop assuming everyone is attacking you! If we need to blame someone, of course, we can blame Cat Adams. But now she’s dead, Spencer! And what about you? For God’s sake! You had endured so much in your life, and now you’re going to let that bitch keep destroying you from the grave?”

My voice gets hoarse from the yelling, and for the first time during this conversation, Spencer doesn't spit something back immediately.

The hurt expression on his face morphs into defeat. He doesn't want to fight back. He doesn’t want to get out of the hole.

We keep looking at each other silently, daring the other to say anything.

Spencer tries to mask his glassy eyes, breaking eye contact and looking at the ceiling. And seeing him like this spurs the desire to run and hug him, holding him. But I can’t. I swore not to back down.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). But this is who I am now,” he mumbles after a few minutes.

I exhale sharply. Why is it so difficult for him to understand?

“Keep telling yourself that, but deep down, you know it's not true,” I argue, but with no energy to keep yelling. But it's like fuel to Spencer’s anger.

“Why do you care anyway? Is it because you are my friend?” He mockingly air quotes the word ‘friend.’ “Well, it seems my friendship doesn't satisfy you anymore, does it?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? You are not comfortable with the person I am. You don't want my company anymore. You don’t trust me. It's very clear to me.”

I need to get out of here before I say something I may regret or Spencer does it burying any chance of us being okay again.

“Where are you going? Doesn’t feel okay hearing the truth, (Y/N)?”

“You are angry, and we can’t keep talking like this,” I mumbled, trying to pass to the exit door.

“Are you chicken out now? That's how you understand loyalty?” Spencer calls me out this time. He’s testing me, and I can’t take it anymore.

“Don’t question my loyalty. If anything, loyalty is what you have been getting from me since always! Don’t you dare to doubt it!”

My voice is going to break at any minute, and I don’t know what to do to push away this suffocating feeling.

”Let me have suspicions about that,” he scoffs, and I want to cry.

How unfair. How painful.

“Oh no, no, no. Not that. You know what? I’m done. Fuck you, Spencer! Fuck you and your fucking cluelessness and self-loathing. I have been by your side in thick and thin. I have given you everything!”

I bet my screaming is being heard throughout the entire floor right now, but I don’t fucking care. I’m not going to stop right now. “God! Even I would have died for you! But you don’t deserve anything of it. You don’t deserve my loyalty and much less my love.”

I notice how Spencer’s eyes widen with my last sentence.

“Your what,” he barely mumbles.

The secret is out. But it's too late. I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath.

“Yes. You heard right. I said, ‘My love.’ Because I fucking love you. I have been in love with you for ages! But I chose our friendship above all, and what I got? A friend who can’t see beyond his shit. Hell, everyone’s right. I deserve better!”

I can’t stop the tears from springing, and I hate myself for not being stronger to endure this.

“(Y/N)… why you didn't tell me?”

He's being cautious and slowly tries to approach, reaching for my hand.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

“(Y/N),” he tries again. “We can talk about this, please.”

I hate this. I don't want his pity. Honestly, I don't want anything at all. I thought saying the truth would help me to lift a weight from my shoulders. Now I just want to run anywhere in the world where nobody knows me. I’m sick, and being by his side, in any capacity, would no do better to me.

“No. We can’t. Too little too late, Spencer. I’m done. I really hope you can find whatever you're looking for. I hope you do. You deserve to be happy. And so do I. Take care, okay? And I’m sorry for lying to you. I told you I’ll always be by your side, but I can’t. Not like this.”

I look at him for the last time, patting his shoulder and giving him a sad smile. He doesn't say anything; he only stands there, following my steps with his gaze until I reach the door and shut it behind me.

——————

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #more than you know #aperrywilliams

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

Text

More Than You Know, Part 4

Summary: Angel gets a bit needy

Pairings: Jax Teller X Reader, Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, PIV sex, mentions of somnophilia, squirting, creampie, threats, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.5K

Series Masterlist

*Divider by @firefly-graphics

“Oh wow,” Jax tells Angel, as the little boy shows him his new magnetic tiles. “Those are pretty cool.”

“Yeah, my Ari got them for me,” Jax readjusts his sitting, and even clears his throat. His eyes drifting into the kitchen to see how long you were going to be.

“I sometimes call him daddy. He’s like my daddy, you know? He comes by everyday. He picks me up from daycare if mom has to work late. He just doesn’t sleep with her.”

“That’s good.”

Angel turns his head quickly at Jax. Those deep brown eyes looking at the man before returning to playing with his new toys. “He plays with me. He does. He sits on the floor with me,” he peeks up at Jax and gives him a quick smirk. “I think he loves my mama. They almost kissed.”

“I’m gonna go check on your mom,” Angel watches the man walk in to you, and he pouts. Looking out the window across the street, he notices Ari’s bike is still gone. Crossing both of his arms across his chest he pouts. He knows he’s not supposed to go outside without an adult, but he just wanted to go to the garage.

“He’s a talker,” Jax quietly says. Walking behind you, he places both hands on your hips and rocks you a moment.

“He takes after his daddy,” you sigh. Your eyes flutter close when Jax leans forward, ghosting his lips on your neck.

“Which one?”

“What?” spinning around you give him an odd look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Seems like Ari is his dad.”

“Oh god,” rolling your eyes, you push Jax’s arms off of you. “Don’t start this. Ari is my best friend, and he comes here most nights. Other than Angel’s uncle and grandpa, he has been the most consistent person in his life. Honestly more than Felipe and EZ. Do you have a problem with that? Ari isn’t going anywhere.”

“Obviously. You almost kissed,” you snort out a laugh at him. “I don’t share. The only person who gets that pussy is me.”

“Right. Did Angel tell you we almost kissed?” Jax nods his head, and you laugh more. “Ari and I were talking. That’s it. And we’re not dating. You want an exclusive conversation fine. But don’t ever tell me what to do. I’ve made it just fine for five years without some man telling me what I can do.”

“Fine. You only sleep with me.”

“And where else have you been? That works both ways. You only sleep with me,” you stop a moment, your ears perking up, when it gets too quiet. “Oh god,” you scream when you see the front door open. “Angel! Angel!”

With a loud crash, you look into the garage, and your baby’s crying beside his dad’s fallen bike. “Baby,” you whisper as you go to hold him close to you. “Angel baby, what are you doing?”

“I was going to ride daddy’s bike to find Ari. His bike is gone,” he cuts his eyes over at Jax, before moving his mouth to your ear, “Ari stays gone when he’s here. Make him leave.”

“Angel, you’re not being nice.”

“I want Ari here!”

“Angel Luke Reyes, you do not talk to me like that. And you don’t play with your daddy’s bike.”

“Ari was gonna teach me.”

“I can teach you,” Jax walks into the garage beside you. “But this bike is a bit big,” Angel never looks at Jax, but you do, apologizing profusely. “He’s fine, he just wants to learn to ride.”

“Ari’s teaching me,” his mouth goes into a straight line, before he heads back into the house, and you move to lift the bike up, running your fingers over the Mayans symbol, and then tracing down the only visible mark on the bike. A large scratch and dent in the glossy green paint.

Jax shuffles around a moment, and you don’t notice it. Felipe always told you that Angel reminded him of his father, “He didn’t ask for this,” you say quietly. “Angel and I had just got back together. We broke up because he didn’t want me involved in the MC. I was engaged to a good man, he came from money, but he wanted to see where I was from. One look at Angel, and I was back. A few months later, I was pregnant and he was dead. He never knew. We talked about having kids, what we would name them.”

“Ari?”

You turn to look at him shrugging your shoulders, “I’ve known Ari longer than Angel. Ari stepped up to be the father. Would hold him while I slept, basically lived with me. I wasn’t in a good place, but Ari was always there. He became the father that Angel wasn’t able to be. Not because he was a deadbeat, but because someone took him from me and his son.”

"Have you and Ari ever tried?”

“Ari and I have never been together like that. Angel’s four. He sees what he wants to see. I get it, if you don’t want to be involved. He doesn’t get to see Felipe everyday. EZ came around almost every night for dinner, except when there was club business. It’s hard for him. This is me giving you an exit. I’m going to check on my baby.”

Jax stands a moment looking at the bike, it was all his fault. He wasn’t sure what cruel fate led him to you, or even what he should do; be honest with you, or take that exit you were giving him? The kid was a bit of a buzzkill. Looking eerily similar to his father, but Jax didn’t think too much about SAMCRO’s involvement with the Mayans. Ari was nomad, and you were none the wiser. Plus he was having too much fun. Good pussy is good pussy.

He grabs tight to your hip, circling your ass on his front. With a peak at the clock, you get slightly annoyed. Again. And at two in the morning. Jax was insatiable. It’s like he rested just to have sex again. When you let out a soft sigh inadvertently, his fingers roam down your front, “No panties?”

“I got tired of you ripping them off,” whispering only has him adjusting your ass for easy access. Spitting on his hand, he adds it to your slick. “Jax, it’s late.”

“I’ll make it quick. Just go back to sleep.”

Hearing the door start to squeak, you push him off of you, “Mama, I had a a bad dream.”

“Oh baby, what…?”

“I want Ari,” he gives you a pitiful cry, arms outstretched to you, and much to Jax’s annoyance, you get out of the bed. “What’s he doing here?”

“Angel, that’s enough.”

“I want Ari here! He’s never here anymore, and I had a bad dream. He always helps me, mama,” his voice turns into full on cries, and you try and soothe him. Holding him close to your chest. It had been awhile since he had a bad dream, and Ari never told you what they were.

“Doesn’t he live next door?” the man in your bed grumbles, and you flick your eyes to glare at him. “I’m just saying, let the kid have a sleepover.”

Those chubby hands go on either side of your face, and he lets out a whispered, “I want Ari here.”

“Baby it’s in the middle of the night,” his eyes quickly look at Jax, before back at you. “Let’s see if Ari’s bike is even there. Jax, I’ll be back.”

He hopes it’s just you that’s coming back. Slowly fisting his cock, he really hopes it’s just you.

Holding onto your exhausted child, you knock on Ari’s door, afraid of who could be here with him, to just walk it. Angel gives you a sleepy smile when he hears Ari’s thunderous stomps through the house, opening the door with his eyes closed, and Angel giggles, “What’re you two doing here so late?”

“I had a bad dream, and you make them better. Mama’s got her car friend in the bed,” Ari opens his eyes enough to peer at you. “He said I could have a sleepover.”

“I’m sure he did. Go on, go get in the bed. I’ll be there in just a minute,” those icy blue eyes stare at you, biting along his lip, trying to think of what to say. “Does Jax even like him?”

“Angel just likes you better. I’m just…it’s been a rough few days. He’s been very…”

“He’s a kid.”

“I was going to say, he’s putting on the Ari is the best thing to Jax. You’re all he talks about lately. Even told Jax we almost kissed.”

“And Jax just wants him gone so he can fuck you good and loud,” you glare up at the large man, ready to storm into his house to fetch your child. “I never thought that you would be the type of mom that…”

“Don’t finish that sentence. If you want to do something about it, then do it. I’m not going to be a single mom forever. And if a move is what I needed, and things didn’t go according to plan, then I…how did he know Angel? They’re different clubs, but Angel kept me in the dark. Tell me.”

“Goodnight, Sweetheart. I’ll bring Angel over for breakfast. I’m sure Jax will be gone early in the morning like usual.”

Ari was never going to step up in the way you wanted him. It was like he was there for you, but mostly for Angel. Unsure how you were going to approach him, but this late at night, you wanted to sleep.

Dragging yourself across the street and into your house, you barely have the door locked when Jax’s naked body is pulling you into the bedroom. His lips on every inch of your skin, and pulling off whatever clothes are keeping you covered. “Jax, I just want to sleep.”

“I’ll put you to sleep. Just relax,” he says, laying you back on the bed, his body going in between your thighs, smacking at your core, “I hope you’re still wet from earlier, and Ari didn’t make you this way.”

Lifting up off the bed, you push him back, before crawling over him, but you don’t even want to look at his face. Turning your body around, and grabbing the base of his cock, you let yourself slide down over him. A satisfied moan from Jax causes more heat to bloom in your cunt. Arching your back you start bouncing over him.

Staring at the picture of Ari and Angel on your dresser, you imagine you were taking your frustrations out of Ari. Slamming your body down on his, leaving Jax to smack at your ass. He wasn’t used to a woman taking control. But you needed this. Twerking on his length, and worried about yourself for once.

Feeling amazing, and even watching yourself in the mirror, you felt like a goddess. Pleasuring both you and Jax was amazing. Adjusting your body to hit all the right spots and angles. The heat in your belly grows, but you don’t stop. You want to push yourself.

Screaming out through your orgasm, it’s hard to continue but you do, your legs trembling, vision blurry, your cunt gushes over him, and still you don’t stop. You feel Jax’s hot cum spurt into your cunt, but you still want more. Punishing yourself for whatever you have that’s going on in your life.

“Fuck!” he shouts into the night. His cum mixed with yours creating a mess on him, but he likes it.

When you can’t take anymore, you move off of him, laying back on the pillow, panting like you’ve run a marathon. “We’re doing that again in an hour, right?”

“So help me, Jax, if you wake me up in an hour, I’m kicking you in the balls. I need sleep.”

“What if I just fucked you in your sleep?”

“No! Let me sleep. It feels weird enough that my baby isn’t here. Just go to sleep!” he pulls your body flush with his, kissing along your hairline.

“If that sloppy cunt wasn’t always so ready to take me, this would be easier.”

“Where are we going?” Jax had been very secretive about today’s events. Ari had a day planned with Angel, but Jax wanted to ride you through Charming. He just didn’t want to tell you the destination.

A hand pets on your thigh, but his eyes stay looking ahead. You give up. He wasn’t saying anything.

Enjoying the ride, the freedom, and fresh air. Until you see the SAMCRO headquarters. It was way too soon to be introducing you to his club, and you and Jax were not that serious. Pulling into his spot, he turns to give you a smirk, “Come on, I want you to meet some people.”

“Jax, no. This is a bad idea.”

“It’s fine. I had to come here for a quick meeting.”

Timidly you follow him into the clubhouse, and you’re greeted with a few smiles, but mostly confused looks, and one very pissed off one. “Stay here,” he whispers walking into the chapel, followed closely with everyone wearing a cut.

“Sugar, you want a drink?” a pretty little blonde girl asks, and you shake your head no. “You the reason why Jax hasn’t been ringing my phone?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m the one he calls when he’s lonely.”

“What a sad life that is for you then,” you ignore her, sitting and waiting, watching the angry woman walk into the chapel.

“Gemma! This is members only!”

“Shut it, Tiggy. Jax, I told you to drop the cunt. Go on, tell everyone who she is. Is her pussy really worth it?”

“It is pretty damn good,” he smirks, causing the members to chuckle with him.

“That’s Reyes old lady. The mother of his fucking kid! How convenient that a former old lady of a rival club is now here. If you don’t get rid of her, I’ll dispose of her. She’s going to be snooping in club business.”

Slamming his fist down, he stands to walk towards his mother, “You’re nobody in this club Gemma. You lay a hand on that woman, it’s you who will be disposed of. She’s just a piece of ass. I told you once, and I’ll say it again. She knows her fucking place and that’s taking my cock like a good girl.”

“You’ve got a sick need to fuck the woman whose boyfriend you murdered?”

“She doesn’t know that. She doesn’t need to know.”

“Her fucking cuck knows. Ari?” Chibs glances over at Jax, raising up an eyebrow.

“And he hasn’t fucking told her. Let this go Gemma.”

“Where’s the little boy?”

“Aye!” Chibs shouts looking at her. “We don’t deal in kids and women, Gem. Jackie Boy is the president, and we have to follow his orders. Now,” he turns to look at Jax, “Ari does know. You need to let this go. That little slut at the bar gives you whatever you need to keep yourself warm. It is a bit of a weird kink you got going.”

“I said no.”

Gemma spins on her heels, and goes out of the chapel. Slamming the door, and stomping right up to you. “SAMCRO is one of the Mayans’ rivals. Ask EZ if he knows Jax. You’re playing with fire, and I’ll have your tits cut off if you sabotage my son,” after spitting on the floor beside you, you pull out your phone.

Who do you call? Ari to pick you up or EZ to hopefully get some answers. You’d kept Jax off topic with EZ and Felipe because you didn’t want any judgment for dating. But this woman hated you for something that seemed far beyond yourself. And you couldn’t drag yourself and Angel into this mess or this life. It was time.

Masterlist

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