#Or it will just be more slowed down Spencer shots

[avis-writeshq]

01 — better than revenge

summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk. 

You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”

“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.” 

Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”

Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”

A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”

Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”

“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”

You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”

“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”

Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual. 

“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”

“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand. 

“In Culver City,” Derek adds. 

“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.

Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”

“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”

“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file. 

“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.

“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”

Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”

***

“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department. 

“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”

You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”

“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.

“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.

“Type Four?” 

Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”

“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”

“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out. 

Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”

Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”

“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently. 

“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases. 

“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”

He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s–”

“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.

You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”

“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”

“Lila?”

A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star. 

“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”

She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”

“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”

“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.

“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.

You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”

Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”

“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”

He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition. 

“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over. 

You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”

“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”

You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”

Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”

She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”

“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”

She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”

You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”

She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”

A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle. 

“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”

She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”

“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”

You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”

“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”

“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”

Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”

“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.

“What the…”

“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face. 

You gape at his words. “What are you–”

He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder. 

“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”

“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”

“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”

Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”

You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”

Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”

***

Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you,  Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff. 

The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.

“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.

You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.

You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”

Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”

One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”

He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”

“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set. 

Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands. 

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”

“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”

“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”

He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”

“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”

He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”

You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk. 

Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses. 

“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”

He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face. 

“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee. 

You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.

A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.

“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it. 

“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.

Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.

***

The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything  amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end. 

Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.

“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.

“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.

“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.

Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”

“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”

You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”

Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”

Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.

“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.

Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing. 

“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”

“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.

Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”

“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”

You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”

“She called and asked for me.” 

You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”

The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly. 

“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.

An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”

“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.

“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.

Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”

“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”

He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.

His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”

He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.

“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.

The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”

His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.

“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.

“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.

Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“

“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”

“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”

You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”

“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”

“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”

She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.

“(Y/N), are you–”

“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”

At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”

“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”

You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”

Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”

The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.

Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.

“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.

The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.

You shrug. “I will be.”

“Is it to do with Reid?” 

You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”

Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“

“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan. 

Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.

“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”

The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.

“Hello?” 

“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.

She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”

You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.

“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.

You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”

In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope. 

“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”

A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”

“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.

The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”

You blink. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic. 

“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”

After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways. 

“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.

“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice

Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.

“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”

Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”

“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.

“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos. 

“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.

Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”

Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”

You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV. 

“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”

As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly. 

“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”

You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.

“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim. 

You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic,  and you turn to Detective Kim.

“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.

He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”

“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”

Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”

“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology. 

“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.

You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”

“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”

Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there. 

“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”

If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.

Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries. 

“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”

“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group. 

Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house. 

After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t. 

You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck. 

Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his. 

He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”

Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There’s no one here.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something. 

“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”

“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water. 

“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”

“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”

Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”

Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”

“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”

He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”

“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”

His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”

“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time. 

Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away. 

“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?

“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw. 

“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”

“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.

The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”

“What?”

“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’

Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her. 

“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face. 

“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel. 

“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around. 

“Elle?”

“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek. 

“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”

“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”

He sighs, “(Y/N)–”

“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.

“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”

You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”

“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.”

“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.

Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”

“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”

“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”

Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact. 

“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.

“(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you. 

You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”

He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”

“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”

His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”

“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”

“Stop calling me that.”

“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”

He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”

“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”

“(Y/N).”

“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”

He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.

“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Who’s blood is that?”

“Detective Kim’s.”

“What– were you shot at?” 

His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly. 

“Don’t say that.”

“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him. 

He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.

He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again. 

“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”

*** 

“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”

“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”

You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”

Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”

“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”

“You think she could be the UnSub?”

“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”

The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”

“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.

“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”

“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”

“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”

There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”

“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.” 

With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels. 

“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice. 

You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker. 

“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”

“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”

Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick. 

Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”

“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”

*** 

“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours. 

It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather. 

“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”

Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”

“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”

He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head. 

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files. 

Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket. 

“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”

“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”

He huffs out a laugh. “What?”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”

You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well. 

He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”

He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”

He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”

Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”

“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”

“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”

“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”

Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”

He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”

“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work. 

He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”

“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”

“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”

“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger. 

“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”

“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”

“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag. 

You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”

He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”

“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway. 

He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”

“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”

You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you. 

“I won’t do it again,” he promises. 

“I know.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”

You laugh again and he smiles. 

“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”

His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”

You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”

The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant. 

next part →

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[luveline]

Bombshell reader is my queen. What would happen if she like got hold hostage or something? She’s usually so confident, I’m sure going thru that would rough her up. Would Spencer take up the more ‘active’ role and take care of her

tysm for requesting ♡ fem, 1k

Spencer doesn't know if you're aiming for him when you come out but he grabs you as soon as he can get his hands on you. You were running hard enough to wind him, breathless yourself as you gasp into his shoulder. He can't feel you right wearing the FBI vest, desperate to take it off. 

You won't let him go. 

It must've been bad inside to panic you like this. "Are you okay?" he asks, forcing you away to check you over. "Do you need medical?" He's mildly hysterical.

"No," you say, eyes closed, shaking your head until he lets you back into his arms. "I'm fine." 

"You don't sound fine–" 

"Spencer, I'm fine." 

Spencer can't remember the last time you called him Spencer. He's used to Spence, babe, baby, handsome. He's even used to your hand on his elbow to say hello without speaking. So no matter what you say, he knows you're not fine. 

Spencer leads you over to the back of an ambulance, where you glare at him. You've definitely never done that before. 

"I don't need medical–" 

"You have to get checked out." He's definitely never spoken to you like that. Terse, his hands on your arms to stop you from getting up. "Non-negotiable." 

Your eyes shine with betrayal while the EMTs check your vitals. You have a bruise like whiplash against your neck that's tender to the touch, wincing as they prod it with their white gloved fingers. You're acting peculiarly but not outside of the realm of reasonable. 

A car backfires somewhere in the street and you flinch. "Spence," you say, looking up at him through your lashes, "can we go?" 

He waits for a nod. "Yeah, we can go." 

The issue is that you can't stand. You push up, you blink, and you sit down hard again, making a small pained sound from the back of your throat that Spencer cant abide by. "What's wrong with her?" he asks.

"Adrenaline." The EMT squeezes your shoulder affectionately. "You're alright, hun. You can sit here until you feel ready." 

She and her partner take a break in the front of the ambulance and tell you to shout if you need help. Spencer hesitates for a few seconds, looking down at you with a quick assessment of behaviour. He finds the things that are wrong with you —shaking hands, painful contusion against your throat, obvious emotional distress, weak legs— and he runs through options on how he's going to help you. 

Spencer takes your hands into his, just a little smaller, less skinny, and way softer. He doesn't know whether he can truly smell your hand cream or if he knows the scent from the hundreds of times watching your routine. You take it from the pocket in your purse, squeeze the smallest bit from the tub, and rub it in slow circles around your palms. It calms you in your rare wounded moments, and Spencer imitates that now. He draws gentle circles into your skin, the tremble ever so slightly quelled. 

"Is it bad?" he asks you, transferring both of your hands into one. Freed, he trails the knuckles of his left hand parallel to your wicked bruise. 

"It hurts." Your eyes are glassy, your lips in a downturn that turns his heart. "Hurt my ego." 

"He got a cheap shot," Spencer says sympathetically, dipping forward to kiss your jaw just above the bruise. You go still. He worries it was the wrong thing to do, but you crane your head forward into his chest.

Your tired sigh is like a rake.

"It's okay. It's okay." He takes your hand again. "We'll ice it at the hotel. With arnica, it'll be gone in a week."

"I was really scared," you murmur. 

Sitting as you are in the back of the ambulance, he doesn't have to bend much to press your joined hands to his chest. Eyes shut, that close to one another, Spencer swears he can hear your rapid heart. 

"But you made it out. You're always going to make it out, because we have a great team and you're good at what you do. You're strong. Smart. And you're brave, because you got scared and you kept going anyway. You saved someone just now." 

You push him away without malice, your perfect eyebrows pinched up at the starts. "I thought maybe this time I wouldn't make it out. Not like me, huh?" 

Spencer sits next to you in the ambulance, sliding his fingers into yours with more confidence than he feels. "That's easily explainable. Do you know what working memory is?" 

Your stress melds fond. "No." 

"Working memory is one of the brain's systems necessary for thought and function. It's important for everything. And when you're under immense pressure, the strength of your working memory depletes– being in a high stakes situation like that, it's natural to choke. It doesn't mean you underperformed. It doesn't mean you let anyone down." 

"I never said I let someone down." 

"I worried you were thinking about it." 

"I was." Your glassy eyes have clarified. Spencer lets out a breath of relief as you raise your hand to his cheek, stroking it briefly with the back of your fingers. "I'm glad you think that, but I doubt Hotch will say the same thing." 

"Hotch will tell you well done and make you take mandatory leave for a week. We should regroup with the others." Spencer nudges you in the arm. "I'll write your paperwork if you tell me what to say." 

You drop your face into his shoulder. "I'm recovering from a traumatic event. Can't you do the muscle work?" 

"Y/N!" Hotch calls, a phone glued to his ear. "Well done. Nothing else tonight." You smile. "You can do the paperwork when you get back next week." 

"Ugh." 

"Told you. Well done, mandatory leave," Spencer says. 

"Excessive," you mutter into his arm. It takes you a few seconds to warm up, and when you do it's like groundhog day, sunshine filtering through the chill, "Thanks, handsome. For everything." 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[chvoswxtch]

slumber party

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid

summary: while en route to a case, the four of you let off a little steam.

warnings: all of them. every single one of them. swearing, a lil angst, derek morgan's smile, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 3.3k

a/n: let's be real. you didn't come here for a plot, and I didn't write one. enjoy this slutty vision I had in the shower. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

The jet was quiet apart from the sporadic sound of pages being flipped and Spencer’s occasional soft noises of either being intrigued or perplexed regarding details of the case, deciphered only by their volume and pitch. Hotch had read the same paragraph on the report at least seven times, and there seemed to be some kind of disconnect between his tired eyes and unresponsive brain. Letting out a quiet irritated exhale and diverting his attention to the top of the paragraph yet again, a soft noise caused his ears to perk up.

Finally looking up from the report for the first time in half an hour since he originally sat down, creases furrowed in the midst of his forehead when he glanced towards the other end of the jet and caught sight of you. From where he sat, all he could see was the back of your head since you seemed to be facing the back of the seat you were in, which he found extremely odd. But as he craned his neck, he noticed a familiar pair of hands on your hips and instantly clenched his jaw.

“Son of a bitch.”

The second Hotch shot up out of his chair, Spencer finally tore his own eyes away from the report and turned his head to follow Hotch’s angry march down the aisle of the jet with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. Now that there were no obstructions in his line of sight, Hotch had the full view of you sitting topless on Derek’s lap with your skirt bunched up around your waist, grinding your hips down in a slow but sensual rhythm. Derek’s hands were firmly grasped on your hips to help guide your movements, and his face was buried into your exposed chest.

“Morgan you greedy fucker.”

The sound of Hotch’s angry voice booming in the comfortable silence caused you to immediately tense up and stop moving, but Derek wasn’t having any of that. He gripped a little tighter onto your hip and gave your ass a light smack, pulling his head back to look at you with that dazzling smile of his that could make anyone weak in the knees.

“No no no no, keep goin’ baby girl. Don’t worry about him. You just keep doing what you’re doing…that’s it.”

Derek leaned his head back against the seat, looking over at Hotch with that same charming grin on his face. His warm chocolate brown eyes were glazed over with lust and had been eclipsed into half moons of pleasure. 

“Sorry Hotch, she just looked too goddamn good.”

“What’s going on back-oh.”

As Spencer took his place beside Hotch, his eyes immediately went wide at the sight he was met with. He seemed to be completely mesmerized by the erotic flow of your hips while you languidly rode Derek’s cock as you sat topless on his lap. While Spencer was bewitched by the spell of your hips, Hotch was furious. The stern look that seemed to be his default expression was unaffected by the show taking place before him.

“Morgan, you know the rules-”

“Come on, Hotch. We still got another hour before we land. Lighten up a little. You know, some stress relief would do you a whole lotta good.”

Before Hotch had a chance to respond, Spencer was already stepping forward and unbuttoning his cardigan.

“You could’ve at least asked us to join.”

Derek let out a soft chuckle, rubbing his hands up and down your smooth thighs as he flexed his hips upwards to match your pacing.

“Hey, you were the one more invested in exactly how many trees there are in the Acadia National Park than you were in the beautiful woman on the plane, pretty boy.”

“Well if I had known-”

Letting out a frustrated huff, you stopped moving and placed your hand over Derek’s mouth before turning to look at Spencer and Hotch over your shoulder.

“Boys, you know I hate it when you argue. It makes me dry up.”

Spencer dropped his forgotten cardigan on the chair behind himself, his attention solely fixed on you again. In the dim lighting of the plane, you could just barely see that the green flecks in his honey eyes had deepened into a wicked hue. He ran his fingers gently through your hair before cradling your face in one hand and starting to unbuckle his belt with the other, all while looking at you and dragging his tongue along his bottom lip.

“Don’t worry, we can get you wet again.”

“Not if you’re all standing around bickering instead of fucking me.”

Hotch wasn’t giving in, no matter how badly he wanted to. It was late, he was exhausted, he was beyond sexually frustrated, but above all he was fucking stubborn.

“There is one rule on this fucking plane. When we are en route to a case, we are focused on the case. Playtime is for after.”

Brushing Spencer’s hand away from his belt, a smirk tugged across your lips as you looked up at him and began to unbuckle it yourself, which only caused him to bite down on his bottom lip seductively. Throwing a glance over your shoulder at Hotch, you could visibly see just how pissed off he was, but as your gaze wandered down south, you could also see the outline of his impressive cock starting to strain against his pants. Sinking your teeth into your own bottom lip, you looked up at Hotch through your, flashing him a sultry smile while you teasingly unzipped Spencer’s pants slowly.

“Aw, come on, Aaron. If anyone needs some relief, it’s you. Just come have a little fun with us.”

The hardness in Hotch’s glare wavered only slightly at the provocative sound of your voice. It was an unrelenting struggle to keep his eyes focused directly on yours and to not let them roam over your body. If he let his gaze wander for even a split second to see the way your nipples were peaked from the cool air in the cabin, the way your soft hand was caressing Spencer’s cock through his pants, or the way your ass moved against Derek’s lap while you fucked him, he would break. While Derek began to flex his hips upwards a little harder to fuck up into you now that there was no longer a reason to stay quiet, you were pulling Spencer’s cock out of his briefs and leaning over to take him into your mouth.

Before he could watch you wrap your lips around Spencer’s tip, Hotch quickly looked away and stormed off towards the other end of the jet, dropping into his chair and loosening his tie with a hardened scowl on his face.

“You’re all getting written up.”

“For what?”

Derek's protest was only faintly heard since Hotch’s blood was now pounding in his ears like a high school marching band, and throbbing in other places. 

“Insubordination.”

There was a slight growl to his voice as he barked back at Derek, not even bothering to look up as he angrily began to look through the case file again, but he couldn't focus. No matter how hard he tried, all he could hear was Derek and Spencer praising you in tandem as they each took an offering from your body, and the soft noises of gratitude that flowed from your lips. It was absolute fucking torture. He thought about palming himself through his pants, just to get a little reprieve without alerting any of you to his moment of weakness. But he was so fucking angry with all of you, he didn’t even want to give in.

His mind was a jumbled concoction of juxtaposed thoughts, none of which had anything to do with the case in front of him. Hotch wasn’t sure why he was so pissed off right now. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had joined in, it wasn’t like the four of you hadn’t done it before. It certainly would’ve put him in a better mood. But this was a big case, and Strauss had been on his ass more than usual lately, and things at the BAU had been so chaotic that the team was getting split up just to keep up with the influx of cases coming across JJ’s desk.

Maybe it was a mistake not to send you with Rossi, JJ, and Prentiss. The air always shifted when you were alone with him, Reid, and Morgan. It was inevitable. Maybe that’s why he ordered you to come with him, because even if he didn’t want to consciously admit it, subconsciously he knew that this was exactly what he needed. He needed you, and the peace that you brought him.

The sharp sound of a smack landing on flesh caught his attention, and Hotch looked up to see that the three of you had moved to the bench directly in his line of sight. Derek had his head thrown back as pounded into you from behind, occasionally smacking his hand against your ass while he grunted about how tight and wet you always were. Spencer held your hair back while he fucked your mouth, watching you as he moaned praises of what a good girl you were. Your face was obstructed by Spencer’s back, but Hotch could hear how much you were enjoying yourself, and he couldn’t look away.

As Derek and Spencer came in unison, Hotch gripped onto the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned stark white, and he inhaled a sharp breath that he let out slowly through his nose. Gritting his teeth, he glared down at the blur of black ink on the pages, listening to the sound of your angelic laughter and kisses being exchanged between the three of you. Why was he doing this to himself? Why hadn’t he just fucking given in and joined?

While Spencer was sitting on the couch with his pants around his ankles, head back against the window with a blissed out look on his face, Derek snaked his arm around your waist and pressed a soft kiss to your neck before whispering into your ear.

“Do me a favor, baby girl. Go take care of grumpy over there.”

Letting out a quiet giggle, you turned and brushed your nose against Derek’s before kissing him softly.

“Already ahead of you, D.”

Discarding your skirt completely, you dropped it in Spencer’s laugh and planted a quick kiss to his lips before sauntering down the aisle of the plane, completely naked. Hotch glanced up when he caught the smell of your familiar perfume and looked at you with a halfhearted glare. All you could do was smile at the sight of his thick brows furrowed and the permanent scowl that he always seemed to wear. You both knew he couldn’t stay mad at you, and he didn’t even put up a fight when you made him lean back against his seat so you could sit on his lap. 

“Why are you so mad baby, hm?”

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you ran one of your hands through his dark brown hair, giving a gentle tug at the root which earned a quiet grunt from him. As you leaned in to place featherlight kisses along his jaw, you could feel his body physically relax, as well as how much his hardened cock was straining against his pants. But despite the giveaways from his body, Hotch wouldn’t budge. He didn’t make a move to touch you, and he didn’t speak. He was always the hardest of the three to break, but you knew exactly where his weak points were.

“Oh, you don’t wanna talk, huh? That’s okay. I’d prefer to do something else with my mouth right now anyway.”

Gently biting down on his earlobe, you felt his thighs tense up beneath you and a quiet grunt sound from his chest, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. As you got off his lap, you slowly got down onto your knees in front of Hotch and unbuckled his belt. Since he was already in a sour mood, you decided to skip the teasing, and honestly you were so turned on yourself that you didn’t have the patience for it.

He was trying so hard not to give in while you were pulling the leather of his belt out of the buckle, and even as you were unbuttoning his pants and tugging down the zipper, he was trying to appear completely unbothered while looking at the case files. But the second he felt your luscious lips wrap around the throbbing head of his cock that was slick with pre-cum, he completely lost it. 

Letting his head fall back against the seat, he closed his eyes and his lips parted as he focused solely on the warmth of your mouth and the wetness of your tongue sliding against the underside of his sensitive tip. In that moment he completely forgot whatever he was mad about. Every single coherent thought in his head vanished, and all that was  left was you.

You don’t mind when he slips his hand into your hair and grips at it roughly, or when he starts to push his hips upwards to seek out more. It was rare that Hotch ever gave in to his selfish desires, and you were all too eager to let him. The sight above you was one you wished you could frame. His dark brown hair was messy from you running your fingers through it and his eyes were peacefully screwed  shut. There was a twinge of heat covering his cheeks, and his lips were parted further as heavy pants and soft whimpers escaped. Those little noises only make you want to steal more of them from the man that was normally so stoic and closed off. 

All of a sudden, Hotch roughly pulled at your hair causing you to moan around him. He grunted while leaning down to slip his hands under your arms, pulling you up from your knees and shoving all the reports off the table in front of him carelessly onto the floor. He grabbed you by your hips and lifted you up onto the table, and you immediately spread your legs wide for him to slot through. Without wasting another second, Hotch pulled you towards the edge of the table and easily slipped his thick cock inside your drenched pussy. Both of you moaned simultaneously at the contact, and he only faltered for a second before he started to aggressively snap his hips against yours.

Faintly, you can hear Derek whistling from the other side of the plane and the sound of him clapping as he calls out to Hotch.

“There he is. Come on, Hotch. Give us a show.”

When you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, Hotch wrapped one of his large hands around your throat and lightly squeezed. You can tell he’s still frustrated by the feral way he’s fucking you against the table, but you can feel just how badly he needs this release. Sneaking one of your hands down to play with your clit, you only get away with it for a few seconds before Hotch roughly smacks your hand away and tightens his grip on your throat. He replaces your hand with his own and starts to furiously rub quick circles over your sensitive clit, tearing a sharp moan from your chest. You can feel how close he is already by the way his rhythm starts to falter. When he speaks, his voice is so low and husky that it almost sounds like a growl.

“You insatiable little slut. You haven’t come enough already? You think you deserve to come again after the way you’ve been acting?”

“Aaron-”

“Shut up.”

The only thing you can hear over the obscene sound of Hotch’s thighs smacking against your ass with every powerful thrust and the lewd squelching of his cock disappearing over and over inside your tight cunt is the dark chuckle that sounded from Spencer before he spoke.

“Uh oh, someone pissed off Daddy.”

The way you moan Hotch’s name nearly has him combusting right there. When he starts to rub your clit harder, your jaw becomes unhinged and hangs open, but nothing comes out. You can’t speak, you can’t even make a sound. Hotch grunts as his pace becomes even more fervent and brutal. He was fucking you with everything he had, using your body to expel every ounce of pent up frustration, and you were already ascending into the clouds.

“You wanna come so fucking badly? Then do it.”

The tightening of your cunt around his cock sends both of you over the edge, and both of your moans seem to echo in the small space of the cabin. Hotch continues to fuck you wildly through his orgasm, gripping onto the edge of the table to steady himself. Once he starts to slow down after emptying himself inside of you completely, the blissed out smile that replaces the frown on his mouth makes you giggle, and it causes him to finally open his eyes and look down at you with an arch of his brow.

“What?”

“Better?”

Hotch just stares down at you for a moment with slightly narrowed eyes before he finally gives in, his lips parting into that wide grin that you love so much but rarely get to see. Taking a moment to catch his breath, a light chuckle leaves him as he gazes down at you with softer eyes this time and brushes your hair away from your face gently.

“You know, the whole point of me being your boss is you’re supposed to actually listen to me.”

“You of all people know I listen very well.”

The sultry tone of your voice and the implications behind it caused Hotch to smirk, and you can feel the effect it has when you feel his cock twitch inside of you. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against your own and gave your ass a light smack.

“When you’re being a good girl and not such a brat.”

A soft noise of surprise left your lips when he smacked your ass, and you giggled while grabbing his face in your hands to pull him in for a soft and slow kiss.

“I don’t hear you complaining.”

Rolling his eyes, Hotch reluctantly pulled out of you with a soft hiss and helped you down from the table. He ran one of his hands through his hair and took another deep breath before tucking his softened cock back into his pants.

“Alright, everyone back to work.”

“Wait, everyone got to fuck her but me, that’s not fair.” 

Hotch glanced down at his watch on his wrist before looking over at Spencer, shooting him a pointed look when he caught the slight pout on Spencer’s lips.

“We’re landing in twenty minutes and we still need to prep.”

As Spencer began to protest, you walked over towards him and placed your hand on his chest, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek with a mischievous grin.

“Don’t worry, Spence. I’ll share a room with you tonight, and you can fuck me all you want.”

Spencer’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas, but Derek and Hotch immediately began to protest as they shared a look before staring at the two of you with looks of frustration.

“Whoa whoa whoa-“

“That’s not-“

Spencer wrapped his arms around you to pull you in, bending down to kiss you deeply while grabbing a handful of your ass to squeeze tightly causing you to giggle. He nipped at your bottom lip before turning to look at Hotch and Derek with a smug smirk.

“Don’t worry. Unlike you two, I know how to share. Maybe we can all have a slumber party.”

tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejlovebot @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @avencol

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x f!reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner smut #derek morgan #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x female reader #derek morgan x fem!reader #derek morgan x f!reader #derek morgan fic #derek morgan smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x f!reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #aaron hotchner x you x derek morgan x spencer reid #aaron hotchner x reader x derek morgan x spencer reid #aaron hotchner x female reader x derek morgan x spencer reid #aaron hotchner x fem!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid #aaron hotchner x f!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid #criminal minds

[luvergirl777]

Sweet Girl | Spencer Reid

Pairing | Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count | 3k, not bad. 

Genre | Fluff, Smut 

Summary | Spencer is tired, so tired. He knows only one thing could possibly cheer him up. His sweet girl.

Index | Kinda sub Spencer, he's tired and want's to be taken care of, you're more than happy to do that, smut, unprotected sex, love confessions lol, they're perfect for each other, established relationship, pinning, cute shit.

There are so many thoughts in Spencer’s brain, there always is. It’s impossible for them to slow down, he’s always so busy. Even when he’s not working, he’s thinking about the next case, the next degree, the next time he’ll be called into office for a dire case. It’s exhaustive and it feels impossible to just breathe for more than a moment. His morale started to slip, work becoming messy, cases blurring together, memory almost shot.

Until he met you, everything was hard, until he met you. It was an accident, technically. His morning coffee cafe wasn’t open, forcing him to break his routine that he’s had for months. As soon as he spotted you, the new (and out of his way) cafe instantly became his new favorite. Smart and kind, the sweetest smile always worn on your face. He swears you’re the smartest person he’s ever met, always ignoring you whenever you point out his multiple PHDs and ever continuous education journey. 

You force him to look at things differently, not really trying to, but you do. It’s refreshing, it’s amazing to him how it works, a breath of fresh air. Since he’s realized the difference in himself when he’s with you, he’s fallen head over heels. Your apartment is small and cozy, warm lighting and blankets everywhere. He’s at your apartment more than he is his own, feels more at home. 

You ease his mind, make everything easier. He can just be himself around you without any worry about needing to prove something. He can relax for the first time in what feels like years. It almost kills him to have to go away for cases, kills him even more when the cases last weeks or months. He spares you almost all the details, much like Garcia whenever he can. It’s not what you signed up for. Even when you ask, he only really tells you public knowledge. He keeps you separate from his work, he needs you separate from his work. His sweet girl, he’d like to keep it that way. 

Spencer’s exhausted, beyond exhausted he thinks. He can’t remember the last time he’s been away from you for this long, the last time he’s truly felt this horrible. His shoulders are heavy, eye bags growing from the exhausting 3 weeks he’s had. Kill, after kill, after kill, with no motive, no tracts, no suspects. He felt like a newbie again at the BAU, unable to track down their unsub. It feels like he’s failing everyone and himself, it was beginning to tear him down. 

Nightmare after nightmare, he was almost unable to sleep for the three weeks he’s been gone. The day they found the unsub, he almost cried with relief. The entire team almost cried, really. Generally he’s not emotional by any means, tries to stay objective in his work, but this time he just couldn’t. He’s happy, thrilled, to be home despite admittedly being a bit dishevelled from the trip. Unshaven, worn down, exhausted, eye bags, the list goes on and on. 

You’ve missed him too, but you’ve tried to keep your calling and texting at bay so as to not distract him from his work. As he makes his way home, you almost bubble with excitement. The door is loud as it unlocks, heavy click overpowering the soft instrumental vinyl that was filling the silence. Your feet run to meet him at the door, more than excited. The door opens, revealing a tired Reid. It’s the worst you’ve seen him in awhile, maybe in over a year you think. 

You’ve known Spencer for a while now, seen arguably the worst sides of him. This isn’t quite that, but it is pretty close to it. The slouch and far-out look tells you almost everything you need to know. 

“Oh, Spence.” You call to him softly, watching as his feet don’t move, eyes taking you in as you cautiously approach him as if he were a wounded animal. He doesn’t say anything, watching as you reach for his shoulders. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand, hands gently cupping his face and thumbs gently rubbing his cheeks as you comfort him. “Come, step inside.” You almost whisper, gently pulling him inside by his hands, warm. 

A small smile grows on his face as you take off his suit jacket, palms massaging his shoulders and biceps as you do so. You sway softly to the music, almost dancing into the kitchen as you pull him along. “Let’s eat, Spence.” You smile, sitting him down first. At this level, you easily reach his temple where you place a soft kiss. You don’t have to, but you’re more than happy to prepare a plate for Spencer. The music is comforting, the two of you sitting close, your foot brushing against his leg when you cross your legs. 

You happily clean up after the two of you, dancing around the kitchen as you entertain Spencer in the meantime. “How’re you feeling?” You hum, Spencer’s arms wrapping around your waist as you stand directly in front of him. He easily pulls you forward into his embrace. Your arms wrap around his neck, his face burying into the crook of your shoulder as you do so. 

“Better.” It’s all you need, all he needs to say. He’s putty in your hands as you softly pull him forward and off the kitchen bench, easily leading him to the shower. 

He’s so grateful for you, he thinks silently, to himself. He’s never felt like this for someone, and for the longest time, he was afraid he just couldn’t. He could never understand wanting someone with you everyday of the year, living in the same space, sharing everything. The thought used to make him nauseous. The thought of being with someone intimately used to make his skin crawl. But with you, it’s different, everything is different. 

He craves coming home to you, craves your touch after a long day, craves hearing your voice, craves your presence, craves your intimacy. He melts in your hold, his brain is able to finally shut off after a long day. All the thoughts, running miles a minute, goes away. 

He feels like he could cry as you run a shower for him, gently unbuttoning his white button up, fiddling with his belt to take off his pants, kissing his skin better, unknowingly healing him. “Y/n, please shower with me.” He mumbles, kicking his shoes and pants off, undressing the rest of the way. He steps in, watching as you undress before quickly joining him. 

“I’ve been worried about you, pretty boy.” You smile as you step inside, his arms immediately wrapping around your body. He’s tired and homesick, obviously so as he sinks into you. 

“I know, I know,” He nods along, hands sliding up to hold your head in his palms. “I’m okay, I promise.” Spencer smiles, gently kissing your forehead, back down to your cheeks, and finally connecting your lips. You immediately return the kiss, desperate for his touch, his lips on yours. 

“I know you are.” You smile, mumbling against his lips. Spencer smiles too, pulling you deeper into the kiss, closer to his body. You can’t help the small moan that slips when you feel him against you, shaky hands pu\lling him closer roughly by his back. 

“It’s always the best coming back to you, though,” Spencer almost groans into your mouth, making you weak in the knees as he does so. “I can hold my own, but there’s nothing better than coming home to you.”

“Spence, we gotta clean you up,” You almost whimper at your own words, sadly pulling away from him. “Had a rough couple of weeks.” Spencer just nods along, allowing you to do as you please. He’d let you do anything, always. He melts as your hands meet his hair, shampooing and conditioning. He doesn’t melt when you wash his body, quite the opposite as his skin burns hot as your hands rub along his body. 

“Please,” Spencer whines, quickly doing the same for you. He needs to get out of this before he loses his mind, he thinks. As soon as you’re both clean, his lips almost slam against yours, needy, almost desperate. “I’ve missed you so much,” He whines, complaining. 

“Come, Spence.” You mumble, lips against his shoulder as you talk to him. Your face and ears are burning hot, wanting to get out of the shower quickly. Spencer follows you without a hitch, quickly wrapping the both of you in fizzy towels as he places another kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve missed you, Spencer.” You smile at him, walking backwards out of the bathroom. He follows happily, a tired smile painted across his features. A towel hangs low on his waist as he follows. 

“I’m really tired, hun, I won’t lie.” Spencer mumbles as he sits down on the bed, fluffy towel becoming loose when his grip leaves it. A whimper leaves his lips when you straddle his hips, core bare as you lower your weight. He can feel your warmth, mind growing fuzzy almost immediately as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close. You don’t make a move to hurry things up, only tucking his hair behind his ears as you glance over his face. 

“So pretty, Spencer.” You mumble as you talk to him, continuing to play with his hair. “I’ll do the work, I just want you to feel good. Feel good after being away for so long, working so hard,” You mumble against his shoulder as you kiss it. Your town easily falls backwards off of your shoulders, leaving you bare on top of Spencer. “You gonna let me do that? Gonna be good?”

“Yes, yes please.” Spencer mumbles, roughly connecting your lips. His grip tangles in your hair, pulling as close as he possibly can. You whine into his mouth, hips grinding against him, so close yet so far, chest pressed flush against his own. You lift yourself onto your knees, pulling at Reid’s towel to move it off of his lap. You drop your weight back down as soon as possible, grinding against Reid’s cock, easily slipping through your folds. 

“Want you, miss you so much,” You complain, for no particular reason. You know Spencer is more than happy to give you what you want, almost wants it just as badly. “I want it.”

“Take it, sweet girl, take it.” He groans into your mouth, sloppily kissing you as if his life depends on it. His palms knead at your flesh, touching and holding everything you can reach. You whimper when his hands knead your inner thighs, so close to where you need him the most. “Need it just as bad. I’ve missed you so much, love you so much.”

Your hips lift up, Spencer helping you out the slightest as he lines up his cock for you. Your legs shake as you sink back down, hips connecting with a small slap. You both share a moan, needy hands pulling one another as close as physically possible. Spencer throbs as you grind against his cock, completely inside you, clit rubbing against his skin. It doesn’t feel that good to him, but watching you shake and whimper is almost enough to get him off. 

“I love you, Spencer.” You mumble, finally building the strength to lift yourself up, bouncing on his cock. You know exactly what Spencer likes, what he wants, moving exactly how he needs you to. You know where he’s sensitive, how to get him to tick. As you kiss his neck and squeeze around him, he swears he can stay here forever with you. He wants to stay forever, not here, maybe not this specifically, but with you. He wants to be with you, forever. 

“Y/N, I- oh fuck,” Spencer whines as you speed up, desperately chasing his moans, wanting to hear him. He feels embarrassingly close already, all of his senses full of you. You’re so tight and warm, goosebumps spreading across his skin. “Y/N, will you, uh, I want-” His words break off as he moans, feeling his abs tighten up as he fights off the urge to cum. To combat it, his fingers dip in between your bodies, gently rubbing circles into your sensitive clit. 

“Spencer, oh fuck.” You whine, tightening around him even more. “Gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum.” You bite softly into his chest, whimpers muffled by his skin. 

“Marry me,” Spencer whines, voice muffled and whiny. You don’t register his words, focused on the way his fingers rub circles into your clit, his other hand roughly guiding your hips as you bounce up and down on his cock, vice grip around him. Your thighs are shaking, teetering on the edge that you’re so close to falling off of. “Y/N, marry me.” Spencer's hands stop your movement entirely, giving you no stimulation as he holds your hips flush to his. 

“I-Spence, you’re mean-”

“Marry me, Y/N.” He cuts you off, not listening to the way you’re about to call him all sorts of names. “I love you so, so much. So perfect to me, Y/N. I want to be with you, forever. Please, marry me. I promise I’ll ask you in a cheesy, over the top way later, and we can say that was the official proposal. I never want to come home to anyone else but you.” 

“Spencer,” You can’t help the whine that struggles to escape your lips, squeezing around him even tighter. His grip doesn’t let up, holding you completely still. “This is a bit crazy to ask when I was about to cum all over your cock.” You giggle, hands coming to hold his face as your mind begins to clear just the slightest bit. “You know that, right?”

“I-I know. I was just thinking-” He starts, releasing his grip on you once he realizes your plight, allowing you to grind against him for some sort of stimulation. 

“You do that, a lot.” You giggle softly, biting back the moans as you move on top of him. 

“You do so much for me. It’s like, like when I’m with you, my brain quiets down. I don’t have to worry, don’t have to think a hundred miles a minute. I can just be me, when I’m with you.” Spencer rambles on, brows creasing as you speed up your movement, desperate to get there once again. “I can let you take care of me, love being around you.” 

“Spence, we’re gonna look back at this and laugh.” You giggle as you grind against his cock. Spencer goes back to rubbing tight circles against your clit, moaning when you tighten around him again, beginning to move up and down. 

“So, I’ll take that as a no th-”

“Of course, Spencer. Of course I’ll marry you, my pretty boy.” You grin hard, watching as his face completely lights up, matching your giant smile. A giant squeal escapes when he quickly flips the two of you over, your back hitting the bed before you can protest. “Spencer! I thought you were tired.” You laugh, immediately being shut up when his hips begin to move. 

“I was.” Spencer smiles, hips driving forward into you. You’re already so close, so worked up, that the change in position almost sends you over. “Now I have a fiance, it’s a bit exciting, you see.” Spencer laughs at your circumstance, all of the wit wiped clean as you mewl and moan underneath him. He does his best to sooth the shake in your thighs, hands rubbing the soft skin underneath them, hips never slowing. Like you, he knows what you like, exactly what you like, his memory doesn’t allow him to forget it. 

“You- oh fuck,” You whimper as he rubs ghost like circles into your clit, not needing much more stimulation and he knows that. 

“Come for me, please. Wanna feel you, want to hear it, need it Y/N.” He groans, leaning forward to kiss you, sloppy and messy. You’re trapped underneath him, the weight somehow overwhelming and exactly what you need. At the change of angle, his cock hits exactly where you need him, hips grinding against your clit with each movement. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, Spencer, coming.” You whimper, hands reaching for his back, scratching and pulling him closer. You’re almost impossible to push into as you cum, so sensitive and aroused that you clench so tightly around him. He whimpers into your skin, finally coming unraveled as it all catches up to him as well. 

“Good girl, so good.” Spencer groans into your skin. “Gonna cum for you, okay?” You nod eagerly, legs wrapping around his waist as you pull him close. 

“Cum inside, Spence, my sweet fiance.” You whine, thighs shaking from overstimulation. The name makes him fold, the way it slips so easily from your lips making him melt instantly. 

“Cumming, cumming.” He whines, sloppy thrusts slowing down as he does. You can’t help but whine with him, clit so sensitive that it’s almost driving you crazy. 

“Spencer,” You whine loudly, legs tightening to stop his movement completely. You’re too sensitive, it’s too much for you. “I love you.” You mumble, pulling him in for a kiss. 

“Love you, so much, the most.” Spencer mumbles, words soft and sincere as he speaks. Your legs slowly unwrap, sore and tired as you finally rest them. He’s moving slow as well, trudging into the bathroom for a damp towel to clean the two of you up. He’s almost sluggish by the time he’s done, tossing the towel into the bathroom without even really looking. You almost expect it as he collapses next to you, completely spent with his legs hanging off the bed. 

You giggle softly, rolling your eyes at the dramatics as he finally fully crawls into bed. You crawl next to him, propped up onto your elbow as you look down. “So, we're gonna tell our friends you asked me to marry you while balls deep?” You laugh almost directly into his face, hand coming to push hair behind his ear. 

“No.” It’s stern and final, no arguments accepted. At this, you laugh loudly. 

“C’monn, it would be funny, Morgan would love it.”

“That’s exactly why I’m scared. Listen, let’s sleep, before I rethink this decision.” He jokes dryly, a smile on his face when you finally give it up. You pull him close, cuddling into his side. 

“You’d never.”

“You’re right.” He hums, eyes falling shut. “I love you too much.”

#spencer reid #reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid pretty boy #spencer reid needs a hug #pretty boy reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fandom #cm fluff #cm smut #cm spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner

[incognit0slut]

Masterlist

KINKTOBER 2023 NSFW

One-shots based on songs

Lock your door NSFW Billie Eillish - Billie Bossa Nova >> All Reader wanted was for her coworker to pay attention to her. Spencer was more than happy to oblige.

Take it off Taylor Swift - Dress >> Spencer has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

Buried in the pillow NSFW Chase Atlantic - Slow Down >> A night of restless sleep ends better than expected.

Body on mine NSFW Justin Sky - Collide >> Reader and Spencer find a way to spend the night together on a team retreat.

Lose Control part 1 of 3 NSFW Sickick - Mind Games >> Spencer finds himself locked in a room with his rival.

↳ The Last Laugh part 2 of 3 NSFW Sickick - Mind Games >> Spencer finds himself sharing a room with his rival.

↳ Better for you part 3 of 3 Spencer spends the change of year with a new resolution as he starts looking at his rival differently.

Dance with the devil NSFW Chase Atlantic - Swim >> Spencer reassures Reader that sex toys are his ally rather than his enemy.

All I need NSFW Daniel Caesar, Kali Uchis - Get you >> Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with Reader. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love?

Heaven to you NSFW Julia Michaels - Heaven >> Spencer couldn't wait to touch you after he's released from prison.

Play our fantasies NSFW Doja Cat - Streets >> The FBI agent visiting your workplace wants more from you than answers to his questions.

One-shot #Gifwriting

Pretty Boy NSFW Spencer was too pretty for you to resist.

Pretty when you sleep NSFW As newlyweds, Spencer couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Even when you were asleep.

Sweet agony NSFW After a tragic event, you believed you were unworthy of love. Spencer decided to prove you wrong.

Tempting the Cowboy NSFW The team has been trying to bring Spencer back to the BAU after he hung up his badge to live on his ranch peacefully. It’s a good thing you’ll do whatever it takes to persuade him, even if the rugged cowboy wants to bend you over in the barn.

Beyond the limit NSFW Spencer was hesitant when you asked him to be rough, but when he realized how much you enjoyed it, he wondered just how far he could push your limit.

↳ The breaking point NSFW Spencer realizes that being dominant doesn’t always require him to be rough, especially when he has complete control over your body.

Hypothetically Chronically single, you suggest a pact with your best friend to start a family together when you turn forty.

Series

Right Kind of Wrong

Genre: Romance, mystery, crime, suspense Warnings: 18+ explicit sexual content (MINORS DNI), graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA status: complete

Reader never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation when she suddenly became a witness. She also never thought she’d encounter her one-night-stand again—the awkward stranger who isn’t exactly that good in bed… Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong. But the more he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, the more he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Your requests

Love was a foreign concept until he met you.

You’re flabbergasted at how much your son resembles your husband.

Spencer thinks you’re too sweet for a damaged man like him.

Spencer forces you to give him a show when he discovers your secret.

Spencer gives you a ride on his horse to watch the sunset.

Your idea of showering together to save time doesn’t work out as you planned.

Spencer finally lets you go down on him after you convince him that you're ready.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencerreid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #Right Kind of Wrong

[unscripted-if]

DEMO || PINTEREST

Lights…

Camera…

Action!

Those three words, along with the flashing of cameras and screaming of thousands of people, had made up your life for over a decade. Following your rising star into the stratosphere where you could look at where you’ve been upon your lofty perch in the sky. You were the ruler of your universe and there was nothing that’d bring you down…

… Until, of course, there was…

Suddenly in a free fall, without any chance of catching yourself in sight, you’re hurtling back to the ground with only one thought, one goal, in your mind: Find your way back up.

When a new project comes your way, new opportunities arrive with it, but nothing is ever cut and dry within Hollywood. You’ll have to put your all into this movie if you want any chance at salvaging your career.

Try to stay on script…

Unscripted is a slice-of-life interactive fiction where romance, drama, and the trivialities of life intertwine to create your story. Rated 18+ for explicit language, optional sexual content, drug/alcohol use, and violence.

Features

✰ Customizable MC: Name, gender (male, female, non-binary), sexuality, appearance, some of your past projects, and history with a few of the characters.

✰ Maintain your fan base and make sure that they haven’t forgotten about you. Will you earn more as your journey progresses?

✰ Be interviewed from sidewalk reporters to one of the biggest Late Night Shows within America. Just make sure that you make a good impression— there is such a thing as bad publicity after all.

✰ Romance one of the characters that’ll either have the crowd roaring or scratching their heads. Will you find common ground with your sworn rival? Take a chance at love with someone from your past? Give your hot-and-cold manager a shot? Time will tell…

✰ Adopt a new friend that will hopefully make your lonely nights less so.

✰ Rise back to the ranks of Super Stardom and take back your throne.

Romances

The Rival: Angel Sinclair [M/F] — Ever since you arrived in Hollywood, Angel Sinclair has been there. You’re not quite sure when, or where, your rivalry even began, only that it’s made a ton of tabloids rich with the stories they’d print due to it, and you’re even less sure why you keep running into them on the same lot you’re shooting your newest movie. Is it another twisted form of punishment? With an icy exterior that puts the Arctic to shame, you don’t think you’ve ever seen them smile— at least when they’re not in front of the camera or interacting with fans. Will you uncover more as your random run-ins start losing some of their randomness?

Route: Rivals to Lovers.

The Manager: Kieran/Kiera Walker [M/F] — Probably one of the few reasons you’re still where you are. With a keen mind, a sharp eye for detail, and an even sharper tongue, K has never taken it easy on you, and they’re definitely not doing so now. While pragmatic about their approach, they’re not afraid to tell you what they think, when the time calls for it, which is something that’s definitely caused some tension in the past. Still, you don’t know what you’d do without them; as they’ve stayed steadily by your side through it all. And you don’t think they’re going anywhere anytime soon.

Route: Slow Burn.

The Director: Spencer Hale [M/F] — Last Laugh, the title of the movie you’re now part of, is the passion project that Spencer has been working on for years; trying tirelessly to get it to the silver screen. You would know— after all you were there when they began to write it back in college. Despite not having seen them in years, the gentle look in their eyes hasn’t shifted in the slightest; even if it is a bit more wary now, they don’t hesitate in offering you the same level of kindness as before. Though, even that, still feels different, wrong somehow. Can you recover what’s been lost between you? Or will you forever be two ships passing in the night?

Route: Ex-Best Friend/Lover (can choose if they were your lover or not) || Second Chances

The Newcomer: Cameron/Carmen Rivera [M/F] — An up-and-coming star within Hollywood from the music scene. Having wanted to take a shot at the silver screen for years it’s only with this project that they’ve finally been given the chance— cast as your love interest, no less. You’re not too sure what to make of them. From everything you’ve read they’re sunshine incarnate, with a beaming smile always on their lips, that completely contradicts the darker colors that they typically wear. Something tells you, an almost bone deep intuition, that they’re an array of contradictions all rolled up into one package. Will you ever be able to uncover any of them?

Route: First Love (to them) || Age Gap

The Bodyguard: Roman Locke [M/F] — With a penchant to wear nothing but black, sometimes with muted tones of gray thrown in, you don’t know much about the individual that’s been guarding you with their life for the last five years. Only their stellar history in the Navy, coupled with a possible connection to being a CIA Agent, though that’s never been confirmed, and the other rudimentary facets of their past that any employer needs to know. However, even if they rarely speak, you know that you’re in more than capable hands and that they take their job seriously. But what happens when that professional facade begins to crack?

Route: Bodyguard Romance.

The Assistant: Harley Park [M/F] — Someone who’s very good at their job while also being everywhere and nowhere all at once. You don’t know if they’ll ever get over the embarrassment of your first meeting— with them being in a fandom shirt from a project you had done a couple of years before, with you at center stage on it. With an undeniable charm, if a bit awkward in their approach, Harley is definitely someone that’d you miss interacting with once you got the chance to do so. You just have to get them to actually interact with you first.

Route: Oblivious Love.

#unscripted #hosted games #interactive fiction #interactive novel #upcoming if #no demo #interact if

[thewulf]

With My Life || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Hotch x Bau!reader where readers boyfriend turns out to be the unsub. Maybe like a case where the bau gets attacked and threatened personally and the unsub generally knows alot abt them... Read Rest Here

A/N: Inspo struck and I had to go! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 4.1k+

You sat down at the conference room table in a rush, coffee in hand, with damp hair and all, “Sorry, sorry. The line at Starbucks was a little slow this morning.” Sitting down you looked quickly at the case file location before a male voice next to you brought your attention to him. A local case. Very interesting.

Derek peaked up from the case file with a sly grin on his face, “Priorities? Right Y/N?” He asked looking right at you looking at you with a devilish smirk. He always had to be the one making a comment.

Sticking your tongue out at him you wanted so desperately to flip him off, but your boss was staring right at the two of you, and you knew better. So, you just turned back to the case file mumbling, “Shut up.” Earning a snicker from the man to your side.

You didn’t see the soft smile he shot you, your eyes were glued to your next case reading all about it. You might not have noticed but half the team certainly did. It was the most obvious thing to them. Aaron adored you. Hardly ever yelled at you. Certainly, never reprimanded you. The team knew of your boss’s big obvious crush he had on you that you had yet to notice. He wasn’t even good at hiding it. Which was ironic because you were a good profiler. A damn good profiler. Maybe even a better agent as a whole. You just got it.

So, when an odd feeling ripped through your body as you read more and more details. It’s only when you got to the page full of victims your fears were confirmed. A page full of women who looked eerily familiar to you. You hadn’t even realized the groups eyes were trained right on you.

Derek nudged your side hearing your barely there gasp, “What is it, pretty girl?” He asked, the flirting had become second nature to you it only became concerning when he didn’t flirt with you.

You looked up suddenly so aware of every pair of eyes right on you. It would have been a damn miracle if you wouldn’t have blushed, “The victims, they uhm…” You cleared your throat before looking right up at Aaron, “They look like my sister.” You let out a nervous breath clenching your hands tightly.

Spencer looked over at you quickly, “Does she live here? Local?” He asked.

You nodded quickly, “Yeah. Just down the road from me.” You let out a shaky breath seeing how close all these girls lived to her.

A stark silence took over the group. Nobody knowing really what to say. It was unlikely that your sister had anything to do with it. Likely just an odd coincidence. She happened to look like the victim the unsub was after. It still made you horrifically nervous though. She was in danger. Never in your life would you have thought that.

“Interesting. Noted.” Spencer gave you a half smile before turning back to the group spouting off a few theories. Making sure none of them included your sister. Ever grateful you were for the boy genius you were.

This was weird. The whole thing was weird. Too close to home. Everything about it seemed oddly familiar too you. The routines of the unsub struck a nerve with you like none of the other ones had before. This case was different.

The unsub was speeding up at a rapid pace. Six months down to three down to one.  He was now down to two weeks between kills, on his fifth girl. The fifth girl that just unfortunately looked almost damn near identical to your very pretty sister. A fifth life that hung in the balance.

You were driving from the crime scene of the fourth victim dropping off some samples to the lab when Hotch called. You answered thinking nothing of it. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him to call. It was the easiest way for your team to communicate when out in the field. Especially when you as scattered as you were right now.

“Hey Hotch.” You hummed getting back into the SUV after dropping the samples off. The best part of local cases were the home beds and knowing where everything was. It was hard learning new places every week.

“Y/N. What do you know about these red beads. Second crime scene they’ve been found at. You mentioned something about it when we were back at the BAU?” He thought to call you when they found it. You’d seemed weirdly off by the whole thing. Especially when you read the detail about the beads. It couldn’t be. No, you refused to believe it.

“Red beads?” You repeated him. A chill ripped down your spine in realization, “With gold detailing?” You asked without him telling you. That sinking feeling you got from earlier on in the week coming back. Could it be your boyfriend, Nick? The guy you’d been seeing for the last two years of your life?

“Yes, little veins of gold.” He confirmed. That detail was left out of the crime scene notes. You shouldn’t have known that. Not without somebody telling you. But you knew because you bought him that bracelet not a year ago. He fell in love with it, so you bought it for him, as a gift. You loved doing little things like that for him.

“Nick.” You breathed out a pained cry realizing who was doing this. Your boyfriend? Your fucking boyfriend was murdering girls who looked like your sister for almost half a year, and you hadn’t even noticed. The vomit wanted to hurl out of your stomach as the sick realization crossed over you. The kisses, the cuddles, the sex was with somebody who did this to women. Yeah, it was far too much and the contents of your stomach were unfortunately winning the mind battle.

Hotch was still on the line when you pulled your SUV off to the side of the highway to let yourself puke. It was too much. Far too fucking much. Hurling the contents of your lunch up off the side of the highway was certainly not in your plans for the day. But here you were, hurling up the contents of your lunch thanks to Nick, your not so sweet boyfriend. A literal fucking murderer. Your hurled up nothing but you still fell ill. You felt disgusting. You shared a bed with a man who got off on hurting women? Insane. This whole thing was insane.

Hotch’s panicked yells from the inside of the SUV made you get the hell back up, “Agent Y/L/N, for the last time, are you alright? I’m calling an ambulance out if I don’t…” He sounded exasperated with the situation, desperate.

You cut him off abruptly letting out a panicked, “No, no Hotch I’m fine.” It was a blatant lie, but you didn’t need a fucking ambulance. Dramatic ass man that he was you didn’t need medical help.

He let out a gruntled, “What the hell was that Y/N?”

You certainly weren’t going to admit that you’d just puked, no, that was gross.

You looked behind you making sure you could get back on the highway, hightailing it for his parents’ house. You had a sinking feeling you knew exactly where these girls were being hidden, right under your damn nose.

Spit it out, Hotch was waiting, “The unsub. It’s Nick. My boyfriend. It’s him. He’s the one doing this.” Letting out a shaky sigh you bit your lip, hard, to bite back the tears. It’s like he wanted you to catch him. But why?

A sharp intake of air is all you heard from the other end of the line. You’d done it, you’d rendered Aaron Hotchner speechless. As wrong as it was a ghostly smile appeared on your lips. It was your turn to be the fucked up one of the group.

“How do you know?” He asked not quite believing you just yet. It seemed, too good to be true?

“The beads. I didn’t think anything of it at the last crime scene. But the same one showing up this time around? He has a bracelet with those same beads. I gave it to him. And…” You paused pretending you weren’t about to keep going.

“And?” He egged you on as you got closer to his parents home.

You let out a few ragged breaths. You felt manic now. Your life was beginning to crumble all around you, “I think..” Another breathe was needed before you continued. Hotch let you take your time, as desperate as he was for information, “I think he’d obsessed with my sister. I just, never saw it. Or I ignored it.” You admitted while continuing to look ahead.

Your heart was broken as you admitted it out loud. How you never put it together was beyond you. Had you really wasted years of your life with a psycho self-absorbed murderer that wanted your sister and not even you? If you had any contents left in your stomach they’d definitely be rising by now.

You spit out the address at him, they were ten minutes tops. But you were only three minutes away. You could do this. You were an agent first. Somebodies life was on the line. A family needed to be spared from the horrors it could be.

“Agent Y/L/N, stand down! Do you hear me?” Your boss yelled through the phone as you parked the SUV in the driveway like you had so many times before.

Your eyes darted back and forth between the entrance of the garage and the call you were on, “Yes Hotch, I hear you.” You wanted to dart out, but you had to follow orders, had to.

It was a painful wait. Silent with Hotchner on the other end. He wouldn’t hang up and he wouldn’t let you either. You were find waiting until you heard a pained yell coming from a female voice. You shook your head in horror. You were right. Fuck, you were right. This was certainly the beginning of the end now.

“Hotch!” You let out a whisper-yell.

“What?” he asked from the other end of the line in his usual stoic tone.

“I heard screaming, I have to go in.” You already threw the door open pulling your gun away from your hip.

“No! Stay back. Do not go in. Do you hear me?” His voice sounded firm but shaky. Was he nervous?

You wish you could’ve slapped some sense into him though, “Hotch! I’m here. She’s dying. Please.”

“No.” He nearly growled.

“Screw it.” You jumped out of the SUV running towards the screaming girls cries. You couldn’t help the guilt that was slowly consuming you alive. You couldn’t let a fifth girl die right under your nose. A complete and utter fucking failure you were.

“Agent Y/L/N!” You vaguely heard before you opened the door to the creepy ass basement you usually avoided at all costs.

Drawing your gun, you creaked down the steps of his parents garage’s basement. A place you’d long since thought abandoned. A perfect place to hide his victims away. You let out your last sigh before going completely quiet. A cry broke out and an angry yell followed. That didn’t sound like your Nick. Who was down there?

You made it to the door. You could do this. Breathe. Opening it slowly you cursed when the creakiness rang out. Should’ve thought of that.

“Who’s there?” Your boyfriends voice rang out.

Damn. It really was him. Go time. You walked through pointing your gun right at him. The last person you’d ever thought the gun would be drawn on, “Let her go Nick.” Your voice sounded surprisingly calm as you spoke.

He ran over to the poor girl who look like she’d been tortured for the last few days. He picked up a rusty knife holding the jagged blade to her throat. Your back straightened as your steadied your aim on his chest.

You held the gun steady in your hand as you held it up to him, your boyfriend, the supposed love of your life, “This is disgusting, Nick. Drop the knife.” Your hand wanted to shake so bad. Breathe in. Breathe out. Let the training kick in. Don’t think.

He let out a sick laugh bringing the knife closer to the poor girls neck, “You would never do it, my love. Not after all these precious years spent together.”

It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Had he really been doing this for almost a year? Targeting women that looked just like your sister because that’s who he wanted? Her?

“You don’t know me at all Nick.” A cold voice came from you. The voice that took over when you needed her too.

“Baby…” He grinned knowing just how to rile you up.

“Drop the knife, now.” You nearly growled stepping a bit closer. Your eyes were narrowed in on the knife pressed to the crying girls neck.

“Y/N…” He tried to press on. Whatever he was doing was working. He was getting under your damn skin. Where was the fucking team?

“I said, drop the knife.” You were so thankful your voice didn’t waver. God did it want to. Your heart was pounding so rapidly in your chest it felt like you’d just ran the damn D.C. Marathon moments prior though.

It happened so fast. You were trained better than this. But it was him. You were taken so off guard by the whole situation. It fucked with you so deeply. On another level. You were distracted.

You heard the sound before you felt the pain. Your instincts kicked in and you aimed for center mass. One shot. Two shots. Then three rang out before the pain in your lower abdomen took over. You clutched your stomach as your body caved in on itself. Your hand was warm, wet, and sticky. A bloody combination if you’ve ever known one. The fucker had shot you with his other hand snaked around the girls waist.

You dropped you gun kicking it away, just in case, before hobbling over to the shaking girl, “Are you alright?” You asked while clutching your stomach with one hand. While the other you untied her from the seemingly dead body behind her. The dead body of your murderous ass boyfriend.

Once she was freed you nodded to yourself seeing him laying there in a puddle in his own blood. How could this have happened? How did you miss it? He played you more flawlessly than even you could have imagined. Finessed for everything you thought you were.

A cry ripped from your throat as your body hit the floor. You scooted away from him so quick, with every ounce of energy you had left. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing as you waited. The girl had made her way upstairs, but you didn’t have the energy, not anymore. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there before a soft pair of hands grabbed your face bringing it from the drooped position it was in.

“Y/N. Are you hurt?” Aaron’s blurry face clouded your vision. You were hurt beyond imagine. How were you supposed to come back from this one? In one swift moment everything you’d been building had been leveled.

Blinking slowly, you nodded down to where your hands were grabbing at your side. Crimson red blood coated your hands as your tried keeping the wound closed with pressure, but you were coming up far too short.

He sucked in another breath before he threw your hands to the side pressing his much larger hands into your body with ease. A pained cry automatically seemed to rip right from your own throat as his hands pressed to stop the bleeding. He shouted for a medic to muffle your cries from your teammates who were clearing the room. They kept busy knowing Aaron had you under control. Seeing one of their own down was horrific enough. They had to finish the job and get out. You were in good hands with Aaron though, they knew that.

A wave of utter sadness washed over his face as he witnessed your state, “I know, I know, shh sweetheart. It’ll be over soon.” He held the pressure knowing it was crucial to your consciousness, but it hurt like hell. He knew all too well, being shot countless times before and all. The shock never seemed to get easier even if you knew what was coming.

You nodded biting back the tears that so desperately needed to fall. You felt like a pathetic little baby right now, how did people handle this so well? It felt like a fire was being lit within your insides. Aarons hands felt like the flint that kept starting the fire over and over again.

He called for a medic again before the pain was beginning to become too much for even the adrenaline to overcome. It felt like hell was burning inside you and your body wasn’t able to handle it for too much longer.

He cursed seeing your eyes opening and closing far too slowly for his liking, “Do you trust me?” He asked you squatting down, so he was level with your failing body.

“With my life Aaron Hotchner.” You answered honestly. Because you did. He loved you and you loved him. The same could be said for everybody on the team but the two of you were a bit different. Shared a deeper bond. Two twin flames that danced around each other so flawlessly every time they were around each other.

He nodded feeling his own heart pick up. The admission felt so authentic. So pure. Like you’d never told a lie before. He placed an arm beneath your knees and another behind your back, “This is going to hurt.”

You nodded quickly, “Okay. I trust you.” You assured him. Because you did. You trusted him with every fiber of your being. You’d known him for years. Loved him for the same amount of time. Fell in love with him not too long after Haley passed. You fell in love with the broken man who picked himself back up for his son, for his team, for you. The one who put everybody else in front of himself. The one who you wanted the most. It was Aaron Hotchner. It was always going to be him.

Without so much as another word he lifted you from the wall you were seated against. You bit you cheek stifling the cry that wanted to come out. He was right, it hurt like hell. Damn the sick man for getting one last thing on you before he died. Before you killed him. Damn. You killed your fucking boyfriend. Three shots and he no longer existed on this earth. The man you thought you were going to marry. Have kids with. Gone. In an instant.

He began to walk up the stairs. His eyes shuffling between your concentrated face and the stairs below him. He’d be damned to drop you now. He’d also be damned to let the woman he loved die in front of him. Not again. That was a promise he made to himself not long after Haley passed. That would never, ever happened again. Not in this lifetime.

He walked you right up and outside to the first ambulance he found. He watched as you answered their questions without going into too much detail. He watched as your mind was seemingly in another place. He never let go of your hand though. Giving it gentle squeezes as your voice caught in your throat. Hotch all but demanded to sit in the ambulance with you even though it was against protocol for them. Being in the FBI did have its privileges as he flashed his badge to the crew.

“Y/N.” He grabbed your hand again once the man was done hooking you up to the heart monitor.

Your eyes snapped back to this reality. Head turning to him you gave him a lazy smile, “Hotch.” Answering him you let the smile drop. You weren’t happy. Not in the slightest. But he always seemed to draw a smile right to your face. No matter the mood you were in.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, giving him a silent answer.

He shook his head, “You don’t have to lie. Not with me.”

You looked down and away. So, fucking ashamed, “How did I miss it? How’d he do all that without me knowing?” You asked him. It’s all that was on your mind. How had you failed four girls? Ruined four families lives.

He shook his head again quickly, “You’re seriously blaming yourself for this?”

“Yeah. Fuck Hotch…” You couldn’t continue as the hot tears finally escaped. A sob spilled from your throat. Hotch earned an ugly glare from the medic as he told you that you needed to calm down.

“It’s okay sweetheart.” He squeezed your hand knowing he needed to draw your mind away, far away from where it was stuck, “It’s easy really. To hide it.”

“What?” You sniffled looking at him with a confused gaze.

He brushed away a few more straggling tears on your cheeks before answering, “To hide the whole thing from you. You’re gone all the time. It’d be so easy. Don’t beat yourself up. Please?” You’d never seen him so desperate, so needy for a conformation.

“You’re just saying that.” You could never accept it. You only would accept you distinct failure here.

“Afraid not. You’re one of my best agents. It’s a lot easier to hide things too once they’ve got your trust.” He laced his fingers in between yours instead of simply holding your hand.

A delightful chill ran up your arm at that. A spike to the heart rate monitor gave you away. Your worst nightmare was suddenly coming to life. With raised eyes your turned back to him almost afraid to see his reaction. He was amused. A big smile adorning his usual stony face. His smile erupted into laughter seeing your wide-eyes expression.

“Thank you Aaron Hotchner. For this. For everything. For believing in me.” You sighed, “And I’m sorry for disobeying your orders.”

He looked down unsure of what to say, “I’ll never condone it, but I understand it.” He gave your hand a squeeze before deciding to cross the line that he vowed to never cross. But you needed it. He could see the desperation in your eyes, “You have to know how much I love you, Y/N. Inside and out you are one of the best people I know. I would do anything, say anything, go anywhere to protect you. I love you so dearly. The team loves you. You are so much more than this. More than a man who targeted a gentle soul. Please, don’t carry this burden. Let me help you. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” He spilled it out on the table in front of you.

You watched him in awe as he let it all out there. It was almost too much to believe as you listened to his words, “You love me?” You asked.

He nodded with fervor, “Love you. Loved you. Will always love you.” He looked right into your eyes forgetting the two medics in the ambulance with them, “In love with you.”

The damn heart monitor went off signaling you registered his words even if your face was still in shock, “In love with me?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” He nodded his head wanting to be closer to you. It certainly wasn’t the place he imagined confessing his love to you, but time was of the essence. He couldn’t let you slip away like he’d let you before.

You nodded, “Yeah.” You answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He smiled for the first time that night, “We can talk about it later, when you’re feeling better.”

You gave him the most skeptical look, “You hit your head or something Hotchner?” You laughed giving him an out.

He shook his head brushing a straggling hair away from your eye, “Do you trust me?” He asked, repeating his question from earlier.

“With my life, Mr. Hotchner.”

He laughed seeing you so playful again. It provided him with such a relief he couldn’t conceptualize until that smile crossed your face again, “Then trust me when I say this. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time. We’re going to get you feeling better than we’re talking about this, alright?” He all but demanded.

“Sir, yes sir.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile on his face, “You’re going to be alright, Y/N.”

You looked over at him with a smile that felt so real, “I know. I’ll be just fine with you by my side.”

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #reader insert #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner au #aaron hotchner fic #hotchner x you #hotchner x reader #ssa aaron hotchner #thomas gibson #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #hotch fanfiction #hotch fluff #hotch fic #aaron hotch angst #criminal minds aaron hotch #criminal minds fanfiction

[angelsnkisses]

Hi, can you write a one shot inspired to this tiktok? https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSLP3jkQy/

Apologies ♡ - Spencer Reid x fem!reader

‼️ NSFW - MDNI ‼️

A/N: hello, anon! thanks for the request, i actually really liked writing this :). it's pretty long so enjoyy <3!

Summary: You get into a fight with Spencer, and he decides to make it up to you. <3

warnings: slight angst, drinking/intoxication, dom!spencer, sub!fem!reader, brief choking, fingering.

You and Spencer had lived together for a few weeks now, and it was bliss so far. The only downside was how often he was gone, constantly working with his team to solve crimes and catch what he calls 'unsubs,' which was all pretty new to you. None of your other partners had ever had such a serious job, but then again, all your exes were total losers.

You loved Spencer, he was so good to you. You had been together for about a year, and he finally convinced you to move into his place with him. He said he felt better knowing you were safe with him. It was honestly cute. Despite all that, you often missed him. He was always out of state, or at the office working on god knows what.

That's how you ended up alone on a Friday night, half a bottle of wine in your belly and the music up loud. You were dancing around carelessly, trying to ignore your thoughts. Spencer had to work late, again. You felt more alone than you cared to admit to him, but you decided it didn't matter much.

Moving around helped, something to get your blood pumping for some kind of excitement, hence the solo dance party. You weren't drunk, but you definitely weren't sober. Your blood felt warm, making you all fuzzy inside.

You were so caught up in your dancing that you didn't even notice how late it was. When you caught a glimpse of the clock, you slowed to a stop. It was one in the morning, and of course, Spencer wasn't home. You groaned, turning off the music.

Maybe it was because you were a little tipsy, but you were pissed. Before you knew it your phone was in your hand, ringing and ringing as you pressed it to your ear.

"Hello?" Spencer picked up, almost immediately.

You paused, not really sure what you wanted to say. You were mad, you wanted to say something.. you probably should of thought about what exactly that was before calling.

"Y/N? Hello? Are you okay?" his voice came through again, and you remembered you had to actually speak.

"You're late," you stated, leaning against the dining room table.

"Yeah, we're working on a pretty big case right now," he replied.

" Yes, I know that, because you've been working late all month, Spencer. You come home when I'm already asleep and then leave before I wake up. I miss you," you grumble, hearing a heavy sigh on the other end. You felt a small pang in your chest at the sound. It wasn't like you to be so confrontational, and you understood he was busy.. you were just too heated to shut yourself up now.

"I know, baby. I'm just busy, it's not personal," he assured you apologetically.

"It's not personal? That doesn't matter, Spencer. What matters is I am lonely, and horny. That doesn't bother you?" you stumble over your words a little, a lot more blunt than normal. Maybe you were drunk.

There was a long, agonizing pause before his voice came through the speaker once more.

"Y/N, have you been drinking?"

You don't say anything, just gritting your teeth and releasing a frustrated groan before hanging up and slamming your phone down on the table. What an asshole, you open up and all he's curious about is your state of sobriety? Fuck that.

You were too angry when you drank, you needed to sleep it off. You picked your phone back up, ignoring Spencer's texts and walking towards your room. You flopped onto the bed, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

**

"Y/N? Baby, wake up," a voice broke your sleep, familiar and quiet. Your eyes fluttered open, feeling a hand rubbing up and down your back. You lifted yourself up a little, looking up at whoever was disturbing your rest.

"Oh, it's you.." you mumbled, laying back down and turning away from him. You heard him sigh, the bed dipping behind you as he sat on the edge. He leaned over, laying a hand on your arm as he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, angel," he whispered, guilt leaking into his tone. You felt your stomach turn, feeling like a total bitch now that you were pretty much sobered up. Drunk you was such a menace, you were embarrassed. Still, he was never home. You were somewhat in the right.

"It's fine, Spence," you said shortly, your voice flat. He gently moved your hair from your neck, moving his kisses up.

"No, it's not," he disagreed against your skin, "You're right, you shouldn't have to feel so lonely all the time, I'm sorry."

You felt a smile twitch at your lips when he apologized, unable to stay mad. He sounded so genuine.

"Let me make it up to you.." he suddenly said, a seductive hint in his voice as he moved his hand down. You shuddered slightly, instinctively moving up into his hand. You almost turned him down, not wanting him to feel like he had to.. but fuck, you needed him. It had been too long.

"Okay," you whispered, thankful you were facing away so he couldn't see your cheeks were flushed and red at his words. You felt him smile against your skin, beginning to pull you closer.

He moved quickly, sitting up on the bed, leaning against the headboard. He opened his arms for you, watching you move closer. You were about to straddle him, when he interrupted you.

"Ah, not like that, sweetheart. Face away from me," he corrected. You raised a brow, but still did it, pressing your back to his chest as you sat between his legs. You felt more exposed feeling his fully clothed body against yours, only wearing underwear and one of his sleep shirts.

"So sexy.." he muttered against your neck, his hands slipping under the shirt as he nipped at your skin. You sighed heavily, your eyes fluttering shut and your head falling back on his shoulder.

"Good girl, just relax.. I'm gonna take care of you," he promised, sending a shiver up your spine. You felt his wandering hands moved down to your legs, one of them grabbing hold of a thigh. He forced your legs open, his free hand moving between them to start touching you.

He gently pressed the pad of his index finger to your clothed clit, earning a sharp gasp from you. He rubbed over you halfheartedly, the tiny bit of pleasure setting your nerves on fire.

"Fuck, please don't tease me," you whimpered, hearing him chuckle darkly in your ear. He shook his head, long hair tickling your cheek.

"You're not in charge here, baby. Be patient," he cooed, making you whine and squirm. He just tutted. "So needy."

He eventually slipped his hand into your underwear, groaning quietly when he felt how wet you were. You could feel his hardened bulge against your back, your heart pounding as he worked. He shimmied your underwear down, and you helped him pull them off your legs eagerly before leaning back into him.

You shuddered when you felt a finger go back down there, circling your clit slowly. Even that was enough to make you moan softly, so touched deprived and desperate. He relished in your noises, the sound music to his ears. The hand on your thigh grew tighter when you squirmed around, looking down at what he was doing.

You winced when his finger moved down, his fingertip dipping inside before disappearing, his action repeating a few times. You breathed a shaky whine again, sounding more desperate by the second.

He finally eased his whole middle finger in, your head falling back as you gripped onto his upper arm. Sure, it was just his finger, but it had been at least two weeks now, and you were all kinds of sensitive. He began pumping it in and out of you at a leisurely pace, ignoring your inability to handle such a simple action.

"W-wait, wait stop," you whimpered when he sped up, already overwhelmed with the feeling. He hummed against your neck, not halting his movements. Instead, he curled his finger up, earning a pleasured cry from you. You trembled, warm delight filling your veins as your body convinced you to adapt. The pleasure wasn't too much anymore, you wanted more of it.

"Hm? You want me to stop?" he repeated, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thigh. You breathed a heavy sigh, shaking your head timidly, and he chuckled at your indecisiveness.

He kissed your cheek sweetly, pulling his middle finger out and rubbing over your clit again. "Good girl, you're being so sweet for me," he praised, making your face heat up and your eyes flutter shut. You were never all that subby, but holy shit, he was doing a number on you.

"Think you can take another finger?" he asked, the lewd question slipping from his lips as if it was nothing. You whined, turning your head to hide your face in his neck, embarrassed. He shook his head, the hand on your thigh snaking up to your throat as he forced you to look down at his hand.

"Answer me, do you?" he repeated, more stern now. You gasped softly, finally nodding. "Yes! Yes, please just do it," you begged, much to his enjoyment. He squeezed your throat just barely, his index finger joining his middle as he pushed back into you.

The stretch made you wriggle in his grasp a bit, the dull, sharp sting less than comfortable for you. He was trying to go slow for you, but he was eager to see you fall apart under his touch. He started pumping his fingers at a snails pace, paying close attention to your reactions as he did.

As soon as he could see you were ready, he sped up, feeling proud of himself when you moaned loudly at the sensation. Pleasure was coursing through your body, your legs instinctively closing when it became too much. He removed his hand from your neck, clearly unable to release your thigh for even a little bit.

"Stay still. That's your last warning," he hissed in your ear, making a tremble run through you. You whimpered, clutching his arm for dear life and trying to do as he said.

His hold on your thigh wasn't as harsh as before, but it wasn't gentle, either. You breathed heavily, a burning tightness building up in your abdomen. You dug your fingers into his covered bicep, fighting to keep your legs open. "Fuck, Spencer," you moaned warningly, trying to signal you were close. He got the memo, his thumb pressing to your clit and circling firmly with his pumps.

That was enough to push you over the edge, a strangled cry leaving your lips as you felt your orgasm washing over you. You couldn't stop your legs from closing around his hand, stopping him from overstimulating you as you rode out your high.

Then you remembered his warning.

"Wait, wait I'm sorry-" you started to plead, heart pounding. Before you could say more, he grabbed you roughly, flipping you around and pinning you to the bes. He crawled over you, leaning down to soeak darkly in your ear.

"You should not have done that.."

**

A/N: well this was an adventure, i've never written anything based of a tiktok before, but i loved the challenge :). thank you to whoever requested, hope you enjoyed <3!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #mdni #angelsnkisses #criminal minds #bau team

[de4dlyniightshade]

I absolutely NEED Spencer hcs for when you and him have sweet sex.

Like, GOD, the way he'd whine for you, squirming and absolutely writhing as you just slowly stroke him while playing with his hair.

sweet sex with spence my beloved🫶

i ended up making this a little blurb🤭

i picture this when you're both tired, already in your pyjamas and just want to be as close as possible, you climbing into his lap and kissing him softly before tugging his pants down just enough so that you could pull your underwear to the side(i sleep in just my underwear and a shirt so if you don't imagine you do okay) so you could slowly slip him in, both of you moaning into each others mouths at the feeling before you started slowly grinding back and forth, breaking the kiss to wrap your arms around his neck, spencer burying his face in the crook of your neck as you tangled your fingers into his hair, whispering praises to him about how good he feels and how pretty he is.

you'd continue at a slow pace but your thrusts would get harder and more precise the closer you got to your release, knowing that spencer was close too by the way he whimpered and gasped, his hands gripping your waist as his hips rutted up into you, chasing his own high that quickly approached, a constant string of whimpers and your name falling from his lips before you felt his cock twitch and warmth flood your walls that clenched around him as your high shot through you.

you'd both just stay like that for a while, you in his lap, his cock buried in you as you held each other close, your hearts beating against one another with the way your chests pressed together.

#📬 maeve's mailbox! #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #mgg #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 18 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - You and Spencer try to cope in the aftermath of running into each other. Spencer makes a series of stupid decisions which lead him back to you and then away from you once more.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - drinking, slightly tipsy reader, swearing, AA meetings, talk of therapy, tears, Spencer falls off the wagon, arguing, slightly aggressive and intimidating Spencer, mention of erectile dysfunction, making out, use of “good girl”, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, orgasm denial(?), Spencer goes from 0-100 and back again, Spencer is incredibly mean.

WC - 7.9k

Chapter 18 - Sandcastles

We built sandcastles that washed away,

I made you cry when I walked away.

Oh, and although I promised that I couldn't stay, baby,

Every promise don't work out that way, oh, babe.

Every promise don't work out that way. 

“How much further is this place? I said we should have gotten a cab.” Tara groaned, her feet howling from the high heels she was wearing. 

“Just a little further.” Penelope insisted. 

Tara glanced at Emily and JJ who seemed to be struggling just as much as she was. Garcia was the only one of the four who wore heels on a regular basis and as such the walk wasn’t bothering her like it was them. 

“You said that five blocks ago.” Emily moaned, clinging to Tara’s arm to help keep her balanced. 

“A little walk never hurt anyone.” Garcia clucked. 

“Tell that to my feet.” JJ rolled her eyes. 

They continued for another two blocks before Penelope picked up her pace and started pointing down the street towards a blue neon sign proclaiming the name Trouble Bird. 

According to Penelope it was the best cocktail bar in the district and she’d insisted they go there for girls' night. 

The four of them had already polished off a couple of bottles of wine at Garcia’s apartment and the blonde had assured them the bar was just around the corner.  

“I don’t care what you say, next time we are getting a cab.” Tara huffed as they closed in on the bar. 

All that walking had seriously sobered her up, making the pre-drinks pointless. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on a cocktail or two. Maybe even five. 

As they neared the entrance, someone heading in their direction clearly caught Penelope’s eye and she slowed until she came to a stop. 

The others did the same, a collective groan leaving their lips. 

“Please god don’t tell me it’s closed.” Emily threw her head back in frustration.

But Garcia wasn’t listening. She took a few steps closer to the woman wearing a long, black evening dress, heels hanging limply from her fingers. 

“Y/N?” She spoke and your eyes shot up from where you’d been looking at the pavement. 

You blinked a few times, eyes darting between the four women and recognising two of them. You wiped your face where your mascara was probably staining your cheeks from crying. 

“Penelope, right? Spencer’s friend. And JJ.” You looked between the two blondes. 

“Y/N?” Tara frowned. “The Y/N?” 

“Uh…yes?” You frowned. 

“This is Tara and Emily, we all worked with Spencer at the BAU.” Penelope informed you. “Are you ok? Have you been crying?” 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shook your head. “It was nice to see you and meet you. I should be going.” 

You started past the women, meanwhile Penelope was giving them all wide eyed glances. 

“Look at her,” she whispered. “We can’t let her leave.” 

“Are you proposing we ask Reid’s ex-girlfriend to hang out with us?” Emily hissed under her breath. 

“I feel bad for her.” JJ replied in equally hushed tones.

“Me too.” Tara agreed. 

“For the record,” you spun back to face them. “You’re not being as quiet as you think you are. I’m fine, really. I’m getting used to being broken up with recently. Growing a pretty thick skin.”

Penelope’s face fell, her heart bleeding for you. She hated seeing anyone upset, even people she barely knew. She moved past JJ, Emily and Tara closer to you. 

“I insist you join us for a drink. This bar is supposed to be great.” She pointed over her shoulder at the Trouble Bird. 

“I think that sounds super weird.” You pulled a face. “No offence, I’m sure you’re all really lovely but as Emily said, I’m your friend's ex-girlfriend. I’m sure Spencer would not love the idea of me drinking with you.” 

“Can I ask you one thing?” Emily stepped forward now, eyebrow raised.

“I guess.” You shrugged. 

“You being upset, does it have anything to do with Reid?” 

“Uh…” you inhaled. “In a roundabout way, kind of.” 

“In that case, you will drink with us. If he’s upset you, screw him.” Emily smiled at you, clamping a hand down on your shoulder. 

“But you’re his friend?” You pulled a face. 

“Guess what, girly?” Garcia clapped her hands together. “We’re your friends now too.” 

And with that she took you by the hand and the five of you continued on inside of the bar. 

***

Two shots of a tequila and an exuberantly large glass of wine later, you’d eased up a little, spilling your guts to four women you barely knew. 

“It’s not even like I care that much, you know?” You sighed. “Sam and I didn’t have a future, I wasn’t in love with him. But bumping into Spencer like that was…fuck it was the worst.” 

“What was Spence doing at an art gallery? I am struggling to picture that.” JJ shook her head. 

“Blair,” you spat her name out of your mouth like a bad taste. “Beautiful, sweet Blair. She works at the gallery.”

“I’m lost.” Tara looked at the others. 

“Yeah, who’s Blair?” Emily added.

“Spencer’s new girlfriend.” You whined. 

“Spence has a new girlfriend?” JJ pulled a face. 

“Oh!” Garcia gasped, clapping her hands to her face. “The mom! The mom of the boy Daisy likes.”

“You knew?” JJ glared at Penelope.

“I knew he had a date a while ago. Luke and I watched the girls and…” she trailed off as the three BAU ladies smirked. 

“You owe me fifty bucks.” Tara nudged Emily. “I told you Alvez and Garcia were dating.” 

“Oh boy,” Penelope blushed. “Uh…surprise?” 

“I really didn’t think it was true.” Emily shook her head, slapping a bill in Tara’s hand. 

“Oh please, Alvez gets all heart eyes every time she walks into a room.” Tara laughed. “But back to the matter at hand. Reid really has a new girlfriend?” 

“Yes,” you pouted. “And Sam broke up with me because I got all heart eyes over Spencer without even realising.” 

“What is up with him lately?” Emily scoffed. “I’ve never known him date like this.”

“He was married for a really long time.” JJ shrugged. 

“He's going through some stuff. Cut him some slack.” Tara sighed and suddenly all eyes were on her. 

“What do you know?” Penelope asked her. 

“What? I don’t know anything.” Tara tried to shake her off.

“Liar! You know something!” Penelope gasped again. “Spill!” 

“I promised him I wouldn’t say anything.” Tara pulled a face. “He’s trying to get sober, I went to a meeting with him a while ago. And he’s seeing a therapist.” 

All four of you looked at Tara, letting her words sink in. Tara looked painfully guilty, feeling terrible for breaking her promise to Spencer. But the girls were worried about him, she wanted to try and stem their fears. 

“So he’s got himself all shiny and new for Blair.” You huffed. “Fabulous. So I was just the rebound after his wife and now this woman gets the new and improved Spencer? Fucking super.”

Out of nowhere you started to cry. And it wasn’t just a few tears, you started sobbing. You doubled over in your chair, resting your head on the table and wrapping your arms around yourself while you wept.

Penelope was next to you and she wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to her.

“Oh Y/N,” She cooed, rubbing your back. “Oh dear, sweet Y/N.”

“Spencer is not himself lately,” Emily reached across the table and stroked your hair. “He’s not always like this.”

“I feel like such an idiot.” You sat up, tears still falling rapidly. “I should not be crying about Spencer in front of you guys.”

“Don’t worry about it.” JJ tried to placate you. “Honestly, it's ok.” 

“No it’s not.” You wiped your eyes on the back of your hand. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Don’t leave, not like this.” Tara tried to insist but you were already on your feet. 

“Thanks for this, and I’m sorry if I ruined your night.” You sniffed.

“Y/N, you really don’t have to go.” Penelope looked up at you sadly. 

“It’s best that I do. Enjoy the rest of your night, please don’t worry about me.” You turned on your heels and fled the bar, the four BAU ladies watching you go.

“Goddamn Reid.” Emily grunted. “She seems like a nice girl.”

“She is.” Penelope was pouting. “When Luke and I ran into them at Barkhaus they seemed so happy.” 

“I have so many questions about that sentence, that I am going to put a pin in for now.” JJ shook her head. “Clearly Spence is going through a lot.” 

“How long has he been going to therapy, Tara?” Emily asked her, turning to her left. 

But Tara wasn’t listening. 

She was looking down at her phone and the seven missed calls she’d had in the time they had been sitting here. As she stared at it, it started to ring again, the same number as all the others. 

“Who is it? Do you need to get that?” Emily nudged her arm. 

With a sign, Tara looked up at her friends, nodding her head stiffly.

“Yeah I probably should,” she exhaled. “It’s Reid.”

***

Spencer sat on the steps of the building with his head between his knees and his eyes closed. He listened to the passing cars, counted them in his head. He also kept count of every set of shoes he heard walk by.

He estimated he sat there for twenty four minutes before he heard another set of footsteps getting closer. He opened his eyes and lifted his head, her image coming into view.

“How many?” Tara asked softly although her body language was somewhat defensive. 

“Three.” He pushed himself to his feet. “I stopped at three scotch’s.” 

Tara exhaled deeply, her nostrils flaring as she did so. She put her hand on his shoulder. 

“You should have called me sooner.” 

“Most likely.” He nodded, feeling like a naughty schoolboy. “I’m sorry.”

“I guess it's some kind of relief you stopped at three.” She guided him back towards the building steps he’d been sitting on. 

“Any more than that and I wouldn’t have made it back.” He confessed. 

He let Tara lead him inside to the meeting he so sorely needed. Afterwards she took him for coffee, despite the late hour. 

“Did I drag you out of bed?” He asked over his mug.

“No, I was at a bar a few blocks away with the girls.” She rolled her lip guiltily between her teeth.

“You told them, didn’t you?” 

“I had to.” She replied. “And uh, Y/N too.” 

Spencer almost dropped his mug. His eyes bulged and his mouth fell open as he glared at her as if she’d just grown a second head.

“Excuse me?” He spat a little angrier than he’d meant to.

“We bumped into her outside the bar. Garcia and JJ recognised her. She’d been crying and we felt bad for her.” Tara shrugged meekly.

“She’d been crying?” His face fell and his bottom lip pouted at the thought.

“Yeah, she broke up with her boyfriend.” 

“She did?” He sat up straight suddenly, like he’d been juiced with an electric current. 

“Don’t get too excited,” Tara rolled her eyes. “She’s heartbroken, Reid. You did a real number on her. She thinks she was nothing more than a rebound from Maeve.”

“That’s not true.” He shook his head frantically. “That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“You moved on pretty fast.” Tara sighed, picking up her coffee.

“Only because she did.” He whined a little. “If anything, Blair is a rebound from Y/N. I love her Tara, I love her so much.” 

“I am not the one you should be telling this to.” She shrugged. 

“You’re right.” He nodded, slipping out of the booth and throwing some bills on the table.

“Where are you going?” Tara frowned up at him.

“To talk to Y/N.”

“Right now?”

“Yes right now!” 

“Seems like a pretty bad idea to me.” She cocked an eyebrow. 

“Don’t care. I need to see her.” He sounded like he’d made up his mind.

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Tara focused back on her coffee. 

“Thanks for coming to the meeting with me.” 

“You’re welcome. See you soon, Reid.” She sighed, watching him flee the diner.

She hoped he wasn’t making a terrible mistake. But she feared this would only end in disaster. 

***

You were still awake, in bed and staring at the wall unblinking. The alcohol you’d consumed tonight seemed like a long distant memory and you felt horribly sober. 

Every muscle in your body hurt but you weren’t sure why. It was as though the heartache was spreading through your extremities, encompassing every pore. 

You’d missed Spencer every single second of every single day since you broke up. But after tonight you missed him with a renewed intensity. 

To see him with another woman, holding her hand, thinking about what they got up to behind closed doors tore your heart apart all over again. 

You’d meant nothing to him, it was as simple as that. You’d just been a notch on his bedpost, a rebound from his wife. 

You’d cried so many tears you physically couldn’t cry anymore. So you continued to stare at the wall and hope at some point sleep would wash over you. 

After a while there was a knock on your bedroom door but you ignored it. It came again twice more but both times you remained quiet. 

Then the door opened and your eyes flicked from the wall to the figure in the doorway. 

Your roommate Travis tentatively stepped inside, hands in his pockets. 

“Uh, you have a visitor.” He shrugged. 

“Don’t care.” You croaked. 

“I don’t think he’s going away.” Travis shrugged again. 

You frowned and shifted a little on the bed. 

“He? He who?” You grumbled, rubbing your sore eyes. 

Travis didn’t reply, instead he stepped aside so your visitor could enter the room. 

Spencer looked about as bad as you probably did as he shuffled in your room. Travis slipped out behind him and closed the door. 

His tie was undone, hanging limply around his neck and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone under his jacket. 

You sat up in bed, glaring at him angrily whilst hugging the sheets around your body like some kind of protective armour. 

“You’ve got a nerve showing up here.” You tried to sound angry but your voice was no more than a pathetic croak. 

“I drank tonight.” He seemingly ignored you, stepping further into your room. “For the first time in weeks, I caved and I drank. Because I saw you.”

“Am I supposed to apologise for that? You’re a grown man Spencer, if you can’t handle your alcohol then that’s on you.” You managed to sound angrier this time. 

“It’s called an addiction, Y/N! I don’t have any control of it! I don’t have a healthy, normal attitude towards alcohol. I’m not the kind of person that can just have a drink, I have to drink to excess, get wasted to forget my pathetic fucking life!” He yelled at you and you flinched a little. 

“If you just came here to yell at me then leave. I am in no mood to listen to your bullshit, Spencer. Go back to your girlfriend. I don’t want you here.” You shook your head at him. 

“No,” he stepped even further into the room. “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve said what I came here to say.” 

“And what did you come here to say?” You got out of bed as he got closer, hating the way he was looming over you. 

You only wore a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top and you tried to ignore how exposed you felt. 

“I quit drinking, or at least it tried, I’m trying. I started therapy, I’m trying to be a better version of myself.” 

“Yeah, for your new girlfriend.” You scoffed. 

“Seriously? That’s what you think? You think I’m doing all of this for her?” He sounded incredulous. 

“Who did you do it for then? Enlighten me.” You growled, throwing your hands up in the air. 

“For a start, I’m doing it for my daughters because they deserve more from me.” 

“Agreed.” You rolled your eyes. 

“But I’m also doing it for you! I’m doing it because I want to be the kind of man who is worthy of your love.” He lowered his voice a little but the anger still shone through. 

“Oh please,” you shook your head. “You didn’t love me, Spencer. You love your ex-wife. Or maybe you love Blair, who knows? I can’t keep up with you.” 

“Yeah, I do love my ex-wife, ok?” He grabbed you by the biceps suddenly, making you whimper. “Of course I do! It’s normal for me to feel that way. Her hurting me doesn’t change the fact that we had a lot of good years together. It doesn’t erase the fact she’s the mother of my kids. But it also doesn’t mean for a second that I don’t also love you.”

“I think you’re just scared to be alone.” You shook your head. “You can’t stand to be lonely. You don’t love me Spencer, you just want someone to play happy families with. Well it won’t be me.” 

Spencer hissed and suddenly, using his grip on your arms he spun you around and shoved you up against the wall. 

You whined as your back slammed into it, his grip on your biceps tightening. 

“You think I’m lying? You think I would stand here and lie to you?” He spat right in your face. 

“I didn’t say that. You might think you love me, but you only want me until the next pretty face walks by.” 

“What the fuck do you think of me?” He shook you a little. “You think I’m some kind of fucking asshole who uses women and throws them aside once he’s done with them?” 

“If the shoe fits.” You shrugged. 

His jaw clenched tightly and his eyes were brimming with his rage. 

“I didn’t throw you aside, Y/N, you walked away.” 

“Because I heard you telling your ex you were still in love with her!” You yelled again, fighting against his hold on you but he was stronger. “And then suddenly you’re dating someone else entirely. How is that supposed to make me feel?” 

“I thought she was what I needed. She knows what I’ve been through, she understands because she’s been there too. But she’s not you, she’ll never be you. And you aren’t exactly innocent in all of this, you moved on from me pretty fast if I remember correctly.” He was caging you into the wall, trapping you in your own room. 

“I was trying to get over you.” You scoffed. 

“By fucking some frat boy looking behemoth?” He raised his voice again. 

“Don’t turn this around on me. It was your fault we broke up, not mine. If you’re allowed to sleep with every single mom who looks your way then I’m allowed to sleep with the decent guy who has had feelings for me since college!” You yelled back but you noticed his expression falter. “What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head, finally letting go of you and taking a step back. 

“What is it? I touched a nerve.” 

“I didn’t sleep with her, ok? Is that what you want to hear? I didn’t sleep with her.” 

“You expect me to believe that? You couldn’t get me into bed fast enough when we met!” You shook your head. 

“You want to know the truth?” He suddenly grabbed you again and you found yourself quickly being pinned to the wall once more. “The truth is I couldn’t get it up for her. And I thought it was because of my goddamn antidepressants but it wasn’t. It wasn’t my meds, it couldn’t have been.” 

“Why couldn’t it have been?” You swallowed thickly. 

“Because,” he clenched his jaw again. “From the second you got out of bed and I saw what you were wearing…I got hard without so much as touching you and I have been ever since.” 

You felt the air leave your lungs and you couldn’t stop from glancing down between your bodies, as if you needed proof. But low and behold you saw it, the obvious tenting in his slacks. 

Your eyes flicked back up to his face and he was staring intently at you. 

“So while you might have been spreading your legs for someone else, I couldn’t physically bring myself to sleep with her. I couldn’t even fucking masturbate because my hand isn’t you!” He spat. 

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You scowled at him. “Am I supposed to fall to my knees and thank you? You think you can come here and tell me you can’t get it up for another woman and I’m supposed to feel sorry for you?” 

“You got in my head, don’t you understand? You got in my head and into my heart. You’re under my skin, in my veins like a drug. Maeve, Blair; they have nothing on you. I thought Maeve was the love of my life because I didn’t know any better. She’s not the love of my life, you are!” He pushed you more firmly against the wall, his hips now pressing into yours and you could feel just how hard he was. 

Did it make you a complete idiot for thinking you may fall back into bed with him? He made it so easy to hate him, but he also made it impossible not to love him. 

You didn’t want to forgive him, didn’t want to give in and relent to him but it felt inevitable. The way he was looking at you coupled with his firm hold on your arms and his hard cock pressing against you was making you weak. 

It was only a matter of time. 

“I’m not even sure you know what love is.” You scoffed. 

Were you deliberately baiting him? Were you purposefully trying to anger him further? Was there a part of you that liked seeing him like this, pushed to his limits? 

As expected he tightened his grip on you and you could feel the bruises starting to form. 

“Are you trying to get a rise out of me, sweetheart?” He spoke, practically reading your mind. 

“Whether I am or not, clearly it’s working.” You shrugged. “But if I really wanted to get a rise out of you I suppose I could tell you that while you couldn’t get it up for your girlfriend, I was having some incredibly mind blowing sex with Sam.” 

Why were you doing this? What the fuck was wrong with you? 

Perhaps it was the anger still flooding your veins, the hurt Spencer had caused you lingered like a rain cloud. Maybe you wanted him to know how it felt, you wanted him to feel your pain. 

His eyes darkened as he stared at you and a menacing kind of smirk spread across his lips. 

“Oh darling,” he chuckled deeply, angrily. “You and I both know he has nothing on me.” 

“Wow, big headed much?” 

“It’s not big headed if it’s a fact.” He laughed darkly again. “I put my all into everything I do, research and study so I am the very best at anything I set my mind to. And that is how I know I am good in bed. Better than that oversized asshat you spent your time with.” 

You swallowed again, subconsciously pressing your thighs together. You hoped he didn’t notice but of course he did. 

“How wet are you right now, Y/N?” He smirked, his eyes practically black. 

“I’m…not.” You lied and he saw right through you. 

“Oh ok,” he laughed again with a roll of his eyes. “So if I was to do this…” 

He trailed off and removed one hand from your bicep. You watched it move between your bodies and suddenly it was between your legs, ghosting over the fabric of your shorts.

The soaking wet fabric of your shorts. 

You hissed involuntarily and Spencer moved his hand back up to your bicep looking incredibly smug. 

“I thought so.” He grinned dangerously. “You know you only need to say the word and I’m yours.” 

“No.” You shook your head. “You hurt me, you broke my fucking heart!” 

“Let me make it better, princess. I can make it up to you.” He softened, looking at you with something akin to love in his eyes. 

“No.” You whimpered. “You can’t make up for what you’ve done.” 

The darkness quickly returned to his eyes and in one swift move his lips were slamming into yours. You whined and the second your lips were parted his tongue plunged into your mouth. 

You allowed him to kiss you, his hips grinding against yours. You were putty in his hands, a complete and utter idiot. But you didn’t care. 

The kiss didn’t last very long before he was pulling back and staring deep into your eyes. 

“You don’t want me?” He narrowed his eyes on you. “You want me to leave?” 

You swallowed, trying to muster the strength to tell him to go, to leave and never come back. But you couldn’t. 

Instead you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him back in for another kiss. And if you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn he was smirking into your lips. 

Soon enough he was manoeuvring you away from the wall and over to your bed. His lips remained on yours, deepening the kiss as he went. You felt the back of your calves hit the bed but Spencer kept you upright with his hold still on your arms. 

He moved his hands now, fingertips grazing down the sides of your rib cage, lower and lower until they reached the hem of your tank top. He hooked his fingers in the fabric and started raking it up your body. 

He pulled back from the kiss, his lips puffy and swollen, and you raised your arms for him to lift the top the rest of the way off. He tossed it aside quickly and your hands found the ends of his tie, still hanging around his neck. 

You used it to pull him back in for another kiss and then started on the buttons of his shirt. He shrugged his jacket off in the meantime and let it hit the floor. 

You got him out of his shirt and it joined the other clothes on the floor. And then he pushed you back to the bed until your back collided with the mattress. 

He regarded you with his dark eyes and a sinful smirk before crawling on the bed, kneeling either side of your hips. He laid on top of you, hissing at the contact from your bare chests. 

He stroked your hair lovingly back off of your face in a stark contrast to his previous roughness. But it only lasted a moment as soon he was kissing you again with renewed fervour. 

He grinded his hips against yours, relishing in the feeling of being able to get hard again. He should have known it wasn’t his meds. He should have known you’d be the cure. 

His lips left yours and peppered kisses along your jawline. Your head rolled back to allow him access to your neck. In kind he moved lower, lips sucking against the skin on the front of your throat. 

Your hands wandered to his shoulder blades, nails kneading the muscles while he moved on to place kisses all along your collarbones. 

Soon they ebbed lower, lips leaving their trail over the tops of your breasts and then down your sternum. 

He circled back to place a deep kiss on the swell of your breast before you felt his tongue swirl around your hardened nipple. 

You moaned as he took the bud in his mouth, teeth grazing your peak, teasingly nibbling it. You arched your back, toes curling. 

He sucked and nipped for a few moments before offering the same treatment to your other nipple. You were writhing beneath him on the bed, wanton moans and breathy pants leaving your parted lips. 

A few more strategically placed kisses between your breasts and he was continuing his journey down your stomach, around your belly button and then across each hip. 

You were rolling your hips up to meet him, desperate for more. He smirked against your skin, knowing he was driving you crazy but that was part of the fun. 

He looked up at you through his hair which had now fallen into his face, while he placed kisses along the waistband of your cotton shorts. 

You’d moved to grip his shoulders and were not so subtly trying to push him lower. 

“Use your words, princess.” He spoke against your shorts. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want.” You whined. 

“Do I?” He teased. “I think you might have to spell it out for me.” 

He sat back a few inches, his large hands now on your thighs and parting them so he could kneel between them. 

Your pupils were blown out as you looked up at him, face flushed red with your arousal. 

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please, what?” He was enjoying this. He was enjoying this too much. 

“Please go down on me. Please, Spencer? God I missed your mouth between my legs.” 

He made the most animalistic sound, closing his eyes and feeling his cock throb painfully. When he opened his eyes again you were staring right at him, begging him with your gaze. 

“Oh how I have missed being between your legs.” He lowered himself again, kissing along your stomach once more whilst tugging at the hem of your shorts.

You arched your back again to aid him pulling them down your legs, the wet patch left behind in the fabric making Spencer feral. 

He balled up the garment and brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply and moaning as the scent of your arousal encompassed him. 

“Is this all for me, angel?” He smirked, dropping the shorts on the floor. 

“Of course,” you nodded, hooking your legs over his shoulders. “Only ever for you, Spence.” 

“Such a good girl for me.” He rewarded you by placing a kiss on your inner thigh. “Who do you belong to?” 

“Y-you.” You stuttered, desperate for him. 

“Good girl.” He repeated and kissed the inside of your other thigh. “Who’s better in bed, angel? Me or that pumped up frat boy?”

“You are!” You whined. “No one’s better than you.” 

“You really are such a good girl for me, Y/N.” He smiled, kissing slightly higher on your thigh. 

“So g-good.” You agreed. “P-please?” 

“Well, since you did ask so nicely.” He bowed his head, blowing air between your legs and making you squirm. 

He lifted one arm and pressed his forearm over your hips, holding you in place. And then his tongue cautiously swiped through your silken folds. 

He collected your arousal on his tongue, moaning at how good you tasted. You whimpered and your eyes fell shut, blindly reaching out until you found his head and threaded your fingers into his locks. 

You dug your nails into his roots when he found purchase on your clit. He swiped his tongue back and forth over your sensitive bud a couple of times before wrapping his lips around it. 

He suckled on you, tongue jutting out every so often to add to the pleasure. You tugged at his hair, grinding against his face, needing more. 

He smiled against you, his free hand edging up your thigh. You felt two long, nimble fingers press against you. 

He glanced up at you through his lashes and he saw your eyes squeezed tightly shut and a few tears forcing their way out. 

He continued to lap over your clit while he pushed his two digits inside of you. He growled against you, he’d almost forgotten how good you felt. The way you stretched around his fingers was heaven, and suddenly he couldn’t wait to feel it around his cock again. 

He’d had every intention of bringing you to orgasm like this and he knew it wouldn’t take a lot. But as he fingered you, his digits moving deftly in and out of your throbbing cunt, he simply couldn’t wait any longer. 

He pulled his mouth away from you, causing your eyes to suddenly open. He kept his fingers inside of you, stretching you as much as he could in preparation.

“Why’d you stop?” You whimpered, tears staining your face. 

“I don’t think I can wait any longer.” His fingers brushed against your cervix and you shuddered and moaned. “I’m sorry, I need to be inside of you so badly.”

“Ok.” You nodded. “Please?” 

He kissed your hip bones whilst scissoring his fingers inside of you a few more times. His other hand worked on the button of his slacks. 

When he removed his fingers you whined again, feeling horribly empty. Spencer sat back so he could shimmy off his pants and underwear before laying back down on top of you. 

His hard member found its way between your legs and he moved back and forth through your slick a few times. He bowed his head to kiss you, cupping your jaw tenderly. 

“You’re not on birth control are you?” He spoke against your lips. 

“I am now, I started on the pill.” You replied. 

What you didn't say was that you’d gone on it because of his own paranoia. He’d somehow transferred his obsession with birth control onto you. He’d told you condoms were ninety eight percent effective, eighty five when factoring in human error. The pill, as you’d researched, was over ninety nine percent effective when taken at the same time every day, which you did religiously. 

“Great.” He swallowed thickly, sitting back between your parted legs. 

He held the base of his shaft and lined himself up with your desperate hole. 

“I have condoms though.” You frowned up at him. 

“I want to do this. I want to feel you, really feel you.” He insisted. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Did you use protection with him?” 

“Yes.” You nodded. 

“Then I’m sure.” He nodded although he wasn’t entirely sure that was true. 

He did want this, more than anything, but that didn’t take away his fear of getting you pregnant. Realistically he knew the pill was incredibly safe, and the likelihood of you getting pregnant was very low. He couldn’t help but be paranoid. 

But he wanted this, needed this. He wanted to take your relationship to a level he never thought he’d experience again. He wanted to be sheathed inside of you with no barrier, nothing between his cock and your throbbing walls. 

“I will warn you I have not had unprotected sex in a very long time and I’m already dangerously close so if this doesn’t last long…” 

“I don’t care.” You rolled your hips against him. “Please, Spencer?” 

He nodded, taking a breath to stem his nerves. Keeping hold of the base of his cock he slowly pushed his way inside of you, his eyes rolling back in his head the second he inched passed your entrance. 

The sounds emanating from his lips could only be described as sinful. He was careful in his movements, disappearing inside of you inch by painful inch. 

It felt like coming up for air. Being inside of you like this was the most incredible feeling of his whole life. He could feel every tiny movement of you stretching around his heavy length, the smallest fluttering of your walls.

He bottomed out inside of you and collapsed on top of you, nuzzling his face against your neck and breathing heavily. 

“There are no words in any human language to describe what that feels like.” He spoke into your skin. “You're definitely on the pill?”

“One hundred percent.” You confirmed, wrapping your arms around him. 

“Good,” he lifted his head enough to look you in the eyes. “Because I want nothing more than to come inside of you.” 

You moaned deeply and he felt you clench around him. His hips bucked involuntarily. 

“P-please,” you nodded. “Please I want you to come inside me.” 

He pushed himself back up, his hands either side of your face. You wrapped your own hands around his biceps, squeezing him to encourage him to move. 

He started slowly, not wanting this feeling to end too soon. He pulled back almost all the way before leisurely sinking back inside of you. 

He stared down on you, not breaking eye contact as he moved in and out of you. He was already close and he didn’t want this to end so soon so he continued his slow thrusts. 

With each one his blunt head nudged against your bundle of nerves, and elicited a deep moan from your lungs. He was panting and grunting, closing his eyes briefly every time you clenched around his bare dick. 

At that moment he had never felt so intrinsically connected to someone. He felt like he’d become a part of you and you him. Your body was simply an extension of his own. 

He could feel so much, he’d forgotten what it was like to be like this, it was a feeling he wanted to last forever. 

He’d never been so raw and exposed with another person and for a while that was the most wonderful feeling. But as he felt his orgasm start to build in the pit of his stomach, another unwelcome sensation joined it.

What the fuck am I doing? 

He closed his eyes as an onslaught of emotions erupted inside of him. The voice of a woman he’d had a one night stand with telling him she was pregnant. Falling in love with a woman who could so easily tear apart the life they’d built together like it was a house of cards. 

Spencer I’m keeping this baby whether you want to be a part of its life or not. 

Spencer I’ve been having an affair. 

Spencer, this is Bobby, my boyfriend. 

Why is mommy leaving? 

Why doesn’t she want to live with us anymore? 

“Can’t do this.” He mumbled, his movements slowing ever further. 

“Huh?” You panted squeezing his biceps. “I’m close Spence, don’t stop.” 

“Can’t do this.” He repeated, his eyes snapping open. 

He stared down at you again, stilling his movements completely. A look of remorse washed over him and he shook his head.

“I’m sorry.” He withdrew you, physically and mentally. 

You whined when he pulled out, sitting up and frowning at him. 

“What are you doing?” You mumbled, head hazy with your impending orgasm of which you’d been denied. 

“I can’t do it.” He moved off the bed, getting to his feet, ignoring the fact his cock was still standing at attention. 

“So we’ll use a condom.” You stared at his back. 

“No, it’s not just that.” He turned back to you, eyes full of sorrow. “I should go.” 

“What? Why?” You pulled the sheet around your body feeling exposed although Spencer didn’t seem to notice he was still naked. 

“I shouldn’t have come here, I’m sorry. I can’t do this Y/N.” 

“Do what?” 

“This. Us. It’s not going to work is it? We know that.” 

“How do we know that?” You frowned at him. 

“Have you just completely forgotten that we want different things? That hasn’t changed.” He shrugged, finding his boxers on the floor and pulling them on now as his dick started to soften with his overwhelming emotions. 

“You came to me. You came to me, not the other way around. You come here and tell me you love me and sleep with me and now you’re saying this?” You were incredulous. 

You jumped out of bed, quickly throwing your clothes back on while Spencer did the same. He didn’t button his shirt properly but he didn’t care or notice. 

“I can’t do this, I can’t bring someone into my girls lives when it’s not going to work out. They’ve already been hurt by one woman, I can’t have them be hurt by another.” He raised his voice a little, stuffing his tie in his pocket. 

“They have or you have?” You scoffed. “Let’s be honest here, Spencer. This isn’t about your kids, it’s about you.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “No it’s not.” 

“Maeve hurt you, I get it. But not everyone is like that.” You tried to reason with him but he kept shaking his head. 

“I’ve known you for all of five minutes Y/N, I knew her for thirteen years. If someone can hurt another person that way after over a decade of marriage and two children then who’s to say you couldn’t do the same?” He spat, pushing his hair back from his face. 

“So this is about you.” 

“No,” he frowned. “What is meant is, if someone can hurt their own daughters that way, who’s to say a stranger couldn’t do it too.” 

“Bullshit,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re scared Spencer and I understand that. What Maeve did to you was horrible, I can’t even begin to imagine what that was like for you. But you have to have faith that not everyone is out to hurt you.” 

“Faith?” He scoffed, his expression indignant. “I have to have faith? Faith in another human being not to hurt my girls the way their own mother hurt them?” 

“Spencer, come on. This isn’t just about them and you know it!” You yelled, getting frustrated by his deflection.

“You don’t get it.” He growled. “You don’t get it because you don’t have kids.” 

“Kids are tough. They bounce back quicker. It’s adults that are the vulnerable ones. We’re the ones that hang onto those losses, that feel the pain longer. I’m not doubting for a second that your wife hurt them when she left and I am not saying they probably aren’t still harbouring some kind of feelings about it. But they are buoyant and you’ve let yourself drown.” You folded your arms over your chest, shaking a head a little in disappointment. 

You saw the way he clenched his jaw, the way his eyes darkened again and it didn’t at all take you by surprise when he stepped forward and grabbed you roughly by the arm. 

“You don’t know anything,” he was really close to you, spitting his words right in your face. “You don’t have kids, you don’t get it. You don’t get to tell me what my kids are going through. You don’t get to tell me what I’m going through. You don’t know my girls, and you don’t know me.” He shook you by the arm but you wouldn’t show him your fear. 

“You think I don’t know you? Oh please.” You scoffed, his grip on you getting firmer, blunt fingernails pressing into the previous marks he’d left behind. 

“You know the things I’ve actively shown you. You know the side of me I am willing for you to see. You don’t know me. Not the real me.” He growled, spittal flying from his lips. 

“I know you.” You spat back. “I know you’re scared of being vulnerable, terrified of letting someone close to you because you were hurt in a way no one should ever have to be hurt by someone they love. You built up walls to protect your heart from another beating. You use your kids as an excuse not to let anyone in. Because deep down you are petrified of getting your heart broken again. So you’re pushing me away because you think it’ll be easier than giving me a chance to hurt you.”

His eyes were practically black now, his pupils and irises bleeding together in his anger. His grip on you was so tight it was starting to hurt but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of telling him as much. 

“You don’t know shit. You think because you're getting your doctorate in psychology that you can read me? If that’s the best you’ve got you’ve got a lot to learn.” He let go of you now, turning away from you. “This isn’t up for debate Y/N. This was a mistake, I shouldn’t have come here and now I’m leaving.”

“Coward,” you spat. “Fucking coward.” 

He spun back to you, eyes somehow even darker than before. 

“Fuck you.” He replied childishly. 

“You’d rather be alone and miserable than be with someone you love on the off chance you might get hurt? That’s pretty cowardly Spencer.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I only told you I loved you to get you into bed?” A menacing smirk blossomed on his lips. “You said it yourself, I couldn’t get you into bed fast enough when we met. I was touch starved, I needed to get laid. I would have said just about anything to get in your pants.”

“That’s not true.” You shook your head meekly. 

“It most certainly is true, Y/N.” He chuckled darkly.

“You’re lying.” You whimpered. 

“Am I?” He clucked. “Do you really believe that?” 

“If that’s true you are exceptionally cruel.” Your eyes misted over with tears. 

“Like I said, you don’t know me. Maybe I’m just a cruel person.” He shrugged, taking a few steps backwards. 

“I hope one day you wake up and realise you made a huge mistake.” You snarled at him. “I hope you wake up and it hurts, it hurts everywhere. It hurts because you threw away a chance at real happiness. I hope that day comes and I hope you track me down to tell me how much it fucking hurts. Just so I can say, respectfully Doctor Reid, go burn in hell.” 

You stormed past him, flinging the door open and glaring at him angrily. His expression faltered a little, the darkness in his eyes fading.

“Y/N I…”

“Leave.” You motioned to the open door. “Get out of my apartment you asshole.” 

He clenched his jaw, feeling a tightness spread to chest. It was as though he had been possessed for a moment, like something else had taken over his body. Now he looked at you, the pain behind your eyes, he wanted to take back every single word he hadn’t meant to say. 

“I don’t think that I-”

“Don’t care.” You cut him off. “Whatever you have to say, I don’t care. I am done listening to you now. Get the fuck out of my apartment and don’t even think about coming back here. You might have saved yourself and your kids the pain but you have shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces Spencer Reid. I hope you’re fucking happy.” 

“Y/N…”

“Go!” You yelled. “Now! Or I’ll call the cops.” 

Spencer clenched his jaw again, rhythmically grinding his rear molars together to try and stem any tears that might threaten to fall. He gave you one last look before he nodded and headed past you through the open door. 

Seconds later, before he even made it to your front door, he heard the bedroom one slam, so loudly the walls shook. 

And he knew before he even got to the door that he was going to leave here, find a bar and get so drunk he may never wake up. 

@foxy-eva @kbakery @chrissyflo3 @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @loonalockley @shamelessfangirl-3 @redbulldinner @derekm24

@pinkiceee-prose @werewolfbansheelove @mindbelova @hades-disappointment-child @weirdothatwritess

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[arlana-likes-to-write]

That Part by Lauren Spencer Smith

Summary: You and Kate have been dating a little less then a year but you couldn't help but think about a future with her.

Warning: pure fluff, Kate has anxiety, engagement, small mention of death

Note: thank you @sycamorelibrary754 for helping me with the ring lol

These moments were your favorite, quiet, peaceful moments with Kate. Inside your shared apartment, you weren’t an ex-HYDRA soldier turned adoptive daughter of Natasha Romanoff and Maria Hill, and she wasn’t training to take over your uncle’s mantel. You both were normal humans enjoying a slow Sunday morning. Kate’s head was in your lap, head turned to face the TV to watch the morning cartoons. You were reading, one hand holding the book while your free hand through your black hair. The book was a simple romantic comedy. You enjoyed these stories because they allowed your brain to have a break from the darkness that you fought every day. The characters were cheesy, and the plot was easy to predict, but it made you feel all warm and fuzzy. At the end of the story, the characters have a happy ending.

Happy ending. You glanced at your girlfriend, whom you’ve only been dating for a year. Maybe it sounded weird, but you wanted the picket fences, an arch around the entrance, and two IKEA twin beds for the kids. Your relationship started rocky, and both were unable to admit their feelings for one another. Your moms could have been more helpful, too. They made it clear that you were off-limits to all the new trainees. It was humiliating, but it didn’t deter the archer. You caught her staring at you; a blush would overtake her cheeks. When she asked you out, you kept it from your parents until your aunt caught Kate kissing you good night. It was better to tell them yourself than to come from Yelena. They took it well, surprising, but gave Kate the shovel talk. “Where did you run off to?” The sound of Kate’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Her voice was a few octaves deeper in the morning. You hummed, letting her know you heard her but were confused by her question. She chuckled, moving onto her back to look up at you. “You stopped playing my hair like 5 minutes ago. So where did you go?” She asked again, taking your hand in hers and kissing each finger. You smiled.

“Just thinking about you. Us,” she dropped your hand so it rested on her heart. It was beating fast, her anxiety skyrocketing. “All good things, I promise.”

“Tell me,” she said, sitting up and turning down the volume of the TV. You pressed the bookmark to the spine to avoid losing your place. “Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“It’s going to sound crazy out loud,” you admitted. “Promise me you won’t laugh.” She took both of your hands in hers.

“I would never laugh at anything you say.” Sighing, you bite your lip and focus on your connected hands. It was a stark contrast. Her hands were rough, callouses on her fingers from years of training to be the best. On the flip side, you were smooth. HYDRA used your brains, not your strength. You created the battle plan for every operation. You may not have pulled the trigger, but so much blood was on your hands. You sighed again.

“I was thinking about you, us, our future. I never expected to have a life like this, you know?” She squeezed your hands for you to continue. “When you hold me, I see the end of our movie where you kiss me surrounded by friends and family. I know it sounds lame, and maybe you don’t feel the same. I can’t wait for that part.”

“Would you take my last name, or would I become a Romanoff-Hill?” Your eyes shot up to look into her blue ones. Her eyes were calm but bold, warm but cold with little specks of green. They were windows to her soul. You chuckled.

“Kate Romanoff-Hill is a bit of a mouthful,” her hands moved up your arms and to your waist. It was easy for her to move you onto her lap.

“It is, but I like the sound of it,” your hands went to the back of her neck. “Are you saying you would say yes if I ask you to marry me?”

“Ask me anyway; I don’t care,” you leaned closer. “The only thing I care about is if you’ll meet me there.” It was the consent she needed to capture your lips with hers. Kissing Kate was your favorite. It made your stomach drop and your heart race against your rib cage. It made you feel at home.

*

There weren’t many things that scared Kate. She fought against HYDRA agents, enemies that threatened to disrupt the balance of peace and aliens from another planet. She wasn’t scared. All of her years of training have led her to these moments. However, she was out of her element here. She sat in front of Natasha and Maria in a conference room. She asked if she could speak with them privately after training. Dating you caused the archer to get closer to the Black Widow and Deputy Director; she saw them in a new light. More human, not the soldiers they were known for. During movie nights, Natasha liked to be held by Maria. Dinner would take a little longer sometimes because the couple would start dancing; you inherited that from them. Kate knew it was a privilege to see them like that. “What’s going on, kid?” Natasha asked. They were intimating, and she knew they would do anything for your best interest.

“Right, sorry, I know you have other things to do, and I’m taking up your time, so I appreciate that -”

“Kate,” Maria cut off her nervous rambling. “Breath.” She did just that, a few steady, deep breaths in and out.

“I want to ask Y/n to marry me,” Natasha let out a surprised noise from the back of her throat. “I had this whole speech planned to ask for your blessing, but my anxiety is getting the better of me,” she managed to get the couple to smile. “I am probably not the person you thought would be dating your daughter. I am impulsive, rash, and sometimes reckless, but I am so in love with her that I can’t see my future without her by my side. So I am asking for your blessing.” The room grew silent. Kate was positive Natasha could hear her heart beating against her ribs.

“Kate,” Natasha said. “You are spontaneous but also devoted, loyal, true to your heart. So you are the perfect person for our daughter.”

“Holy shit, I can’t believe you gave it to me,” Kate admitted. Natasha’s eyebrows went to her hairline. “I was given it like a 50 - 50 chance.” Maria chuckled.

“You make her happy. It would be foolish of us to take that away from her.”

*

“I’m so excited!” You said, probably for the 100th time, but Kate couldn’t care less. Your smile was infectious, and it was dampening the nerves in her stomach. They were going to St. Petersburg to visit Melina and Alexei; it would be the archer’s first time meeting your grandparents on Natasha’s side. She was nervous, especially since your parents and Yelena were coming along. The cherry on top is that Kate would ask you to marry her. She was a ball of nerves; if you noticed, you weren’t paying attention. “Melina had a new litter of piglets. I can’t wait to hold one!”

“Keep an eye on her, Kate Bishop.” Yelena teased. “She’ll try to bring one home again.” You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue at your aunt.

“She almost got away with it, too,” Natasha called from the cockpit. “Until her bag started oinking.”

“It happened one time!” You defended. Everyone laughed as Kate put her arm around your shoulders and kissed your head.

“I’ll get you a pig one day, baby,” you wiggled in your seat and leaned against her. Yelena chuckled.

“You are whipped, Kate Bishop.” The archer flipped her friend off, and you giggled at their interaction.”

*

“Omg!” You shirked. “They are so cute, babushka (grandma).” You were leaning against the wooden pen as Melina was inside handling them. The piglets were skittish about new people and hid behind Melina and their mother.

“Are you going to try to steal one?” She asked. You huffed.

“No, I already got told no on the flight over. But,” you lopped your arm with Kate’s. “Someone did promise me they’d get me a pig.”

“I said one day, sweetheart, not today,” you pouted. “Besides, I don’t think we have enough space in our apartment.” Introducing Kate to your grandparents went without a hitch. Alexei made her swear they would spar before she left to test her strength and dedication. You were holding after a few bottles of vodka; the man would forget that. You saw Melina’s lips cruel up in a smile.

HYDRA and the Red Room’s paths rarely crossed, but you heard her name whispered among the higher-ups. After your adaptation, you learned Melina wrote your training program. It was hard for her to overcome that guilt. “Would you like to hold one?” She asked, standing up with a little piglet in her arms.

“Do you even have to ask?” You held your arms out so your grandmother could place the tiny creature in your arms. Immediately, you brought it closer to your chest. It amazed you how animals and humans were born so small and vulnerable. They relied heavily on those around them until they were more robust and capable of caring for themselves. At one moment, you were this small. Instead of caring for you, your birth giver gave you away. A slight squeal pulled you out of your thoughts. The piglet was getting comfortable. You looked up at Kate, staring at you with a soft smile. “Sorry, I got lost in my head for a second,” you handed the little one back to Melina. “You’re starring,” you said to Kate. “Do I have pig shit on my face or something?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I just think you are the most beautiful girl in the world.”

*

Kate thought it was impossible to fall in love with you more, but seeing you in St. Petersburg was a different you Kate got to fall in love with. There was a softness in how you acted around Alexei and Melina that you’ve never shown her. Kate was curious to know if she knew you were doing it. It was how you hung onto every word during Alexei’s ridiculous stories or your face lit up when Melina surprised you with a gift. It was adorable to watch, and Kate knew your parents loved to see it too, even though Natasha complained they were spoiling you. Kate was so in love with you, and she couldn’t wait to ask you to marry her.

You were curled up near the fireplace, reading one of the many books Melina had. Kate was 90% sure it wasn’t in English. “Hi, pretty girl,” Kate said, placing a new log on the fire. It wasn’t cold in Russia, but Kate learned you liked to have one every night. You smiled and lifted your head, asking for a kiss. Kate was never one to deny you that. She kept it quick as your family was in the kitchen. “I have a surprise,” Kate whispered. “Can I steal you for a moment?” You quickly shoved the bookmark in its place and took her hand. Kate led you upstairs, ignoring the thumbs-up Yelena sent her way.

On the first night, you showed Kate your favorite spot. It was through the window on the second floor to the flattest part of the roof and the perfect views of the property. You told her that Natasha and Maria had a heart attack when they found you asleep in the same spot. Kate opened the window and helped you to climb on the now-decorated roof. She heard you gasp as she joined you. A blanket with pillows and fairy lights lite up the dark space. There was a cooler filled with your favorite desserts. “You did all of this for me,” you said. Kate nodded. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to,” Kate chuckled. “Sit. Melina helped me make your favorites.” The older Black Widow was overjoyed when Kate approached her for help. Your favorite was the pitchy Moloko, a thick but light cake with a rich chocolate ganache glaze. She made medovik, a famous honey cake, and varenye, a traditional dessert with various fruits and berries cooked with sugar. Melina helped Kate make her favorite, syrniki, a fried cottage cheese pancake topped with apple sauce. You made it for her when she first started dating, learning quickly Kate preferred to savor desserts over sweets.

With your belly filled with sweets, you learned heavily from Kate and looked up at the stars. She had to admit she was jealous of the life Alexei and Melina built for themselves out here, away from all the fighting and bloodshed. Clint walked away from it, too. She could as well. “Thank you for this,” you broke the silence. “And for meeting the rest of my family.”

“No place I’d rather be, sweetheart,” she honestly said. As long as you were by her side, she would be home. “Actually,” Kate pulled away from you, smiling at your whine of protest. “I have one more surprise.” Carefully, she pulled you to your feet and took both of your hands. “Y/n Romanoff-Hill, ever since I saw you in training, I knew you were going to be trouble,” you giggled, a small smile on your face. “Even with your parent’s clear order to stay away from you, I couldn’t. I knew I needed to be in your life. I didn’t expect to fall head over heels in love with you.”

“It’s my charm,” you teased. “I get it from my moms.” Kate huffed out a laugh. Tears were forming in the corner of your eyes.

“You are the light at the end of the tunnel—my saving grace. I keep fighting to return home after the mission,” Kate said. She got down on one knee and took the ring out of her pocket. “Will you marry me and make me the happiest person in the multiverse?” She asked. You gasped, and your free hand covered your mouth as Kate opened the small jewelry box. Wanda helped her pick out the ring with your mom’s and aunt’s approval. The ring was more contemporary, with a square-cut diamond in the center and the bands intertwined with diamonds on the side. Tears were freely falling down your face. All Kate needed was your answer.

“Kate Bishop,” you whispered. “Of course, I’ll marry you.” The archer let out a sigh of relief as you pulled her to her feet. With shaky hands, she put the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly. You were quick to kiss her. Your lips tasted sweet from the chocolate and salty from your tears. You ended the kiss, keeping your forehead against hers. Kate could feel your breath on her lips. “I’m going to be your wife.” Wife. Wife. She was going to marry you. Holy shit. Kate laughed, lifting you and spinning you around. Your laughter was music to her ears.

“Come on,” she said. “I know some people are excited to hear the news.”

*

Your right hand was tightly in Kate’s. You were getting married. You had a wedding to plan and a dress to buy. Holy shit. “So,” Natasha smiled. She was the first to see you descending the stairs. It got the other’s attention. Instead of answering, you showed her your left hand.

“Finally!” Yelena cheered. “We can get drunk!” You laughed at your aunt’s antics and made your way around your family to show them your ring. It was beautiful, exactly what you dreamed about.

“Congratulations, squirt,” you turned around, surprised by the sudden voice.

“Uncle Clint!” You said, running over to the man and throwing yourself in his arms. “What are you doing here?” The man rolled his eyes.

“Do you really think we would miss your engagement?” This time, it was Wanda appearing through the door. “The others are coming.” You looked back at Kate, who had a sweet smile.

“You did this,” she shrugged.

“I had some help to make it happen.” Clint walked over to Kate and hugged her, kissing her on the side of her head. When you first met Kate, you told one person of your feelings for the archer. That was Wanda; you told her you would disobey your parents and date her. Now look where you were, surrounded by your family, celebrating your engagement. Kate wrapped her arms around your waist, resting her head on your shoulder. She swayed to the music that was playing.

“Where did you run off to?” She asked, kissing your neck.

“Just thinking about us,” you responded similarly when she asked you that Sunday morning. “Can’t wait for the next part.”

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop #kate bishop imagine

[beautifulbrainrot]

virgin, autistic reader x virgin, autistic spencer

spencer reid x fem!reader

cw 18+ virgin!autistic!reader, virgin!autistic!spencer, oral (both receiving), protected sex,

a/n this is one of the longest one shots i’ve ever written and i honestly love it, hope u do too!

“Have you ever had sex?” You asked, staring up at the blank ceiling, before turning to face Spencer. You were both lying on the bed silently, until you had broken the silence with your question. He blushed lighty, his eyes widening.

“You don't have to answer. Just curious.” You assured him, biting your lip lightly as you awaited his response.

He cleared his throat, sitting up on the bed. You sat up with him, crossing your legs. He sighed before speaking, seemingly preparing himself.

“I’ve.. Well- No. I've never had sex.” He answered, pressing his lips into a thin line as he finished speaking.

“Me neither.” You said, mirroring his expression.

“Why not? I mean.. You're so pretty and.. I don't know.” He squeaked the last part, blushing deeper.

You bit your lips as a small smile formed on your face.

“You think I'm pretty?” You asked slightly teasingly, but Spencer knew you were asking earnestly.

“I mean, yeah.. You're beautiful.” He said simply, smiling at you. You smiled softly back, your eyes flicking down to his lips.

“Spencer.. Can I kiss you?” You asked softly, eyes flicking back up to his honey brown ones before darting away. You weren't one for prolonged eye contact.

He nodded quickly, holding his breath in anticipation as you learned in, tilting your head slightly, and pressed your lips against his.

The kiss was soft and slightly clumsy, but sweet. Perfect.

You pulled away from him slightly, so that your lips were no longer touching, but your foreheads were pressed against each other.

“That was nice..” You whispered, pulling away from him so that you could look him in the eyes. It was the longest the both of you had held eye contact, seemingly lost in the beauty of each other's eyes.

You broke the silence first, “Your eyes are pretty Spence..” You breathed before leaning in again to press a tender kiss against his soft lips. The kiss quickly deepened, with you wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer. As you pulled him closer, your hips moved on his crotch, causing a small whimper to fall from Spencer's lips. You drank in the small sound hungrily, desperate for more of those little noises that you could pull out of him.

You continued rocking your hips on his, the bulge now in his pants pushing up into your clothed core, deepening the pleasurable feeling.

He broke apart from your lips, panting lightly.

“If- ah! If you keep doing that I’m-” He gasped, another moan falling from his parted lips as you continued grinding against him.

“I know,” You moaned, throwing your head back as you shamelessly ground down on him, “But it feels so good..” You whined, kissing him again.

“But-” He managed to say between the quick yet passionate kisses you were giving him, “But, I want to-”

You stopped kissing him for a second, your lips parted as you panted lightly.

“Want to what?” You asked, tilting your head slightly, an action akin to that of a confused puppy.

He placed his large hands on your hips to slow their rocking down, before speaking.

“I want to.. Have sex with you. If you want that! You don't have to, I don't want to pressure you-” You cut off his nervous rambling with a soft kiss.

“Spencer, I want that too.” You assured him, smiling softly.

“Wait- I don't have a condom..” He realised, pouting.

“It's okay! I have one!” You exclaimed, producing a condom from your pocket. He raised his eyebrows at you and you grinned sheepishly.

“Well, I was already planning on having this conversation and I thought of all the different ways it could go, and us having sex was one of the ways, so I just wanted to be prepared!” You rambled, biting your lip as you finished speaking.

He smiled and laughed softly before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Well I guess It's a good thing you came prepared..” He whispered against your lips, before locking them with his.

As you kissed he moved his hands up from your hips and slid them tentatively under the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” He breathed, his cool hands warming against your heated skin.

You nodded softly and allowed him to pull off your shirt, exposing the white lace bra you had on underneath. His jaw practically dropped open at the tantalising sight of your chest, barely covered with the lacy material. You smiled and giggled at his shocked expression.

“Do you like?” You asked teasingly, already pretty sure of the answer. He nodded quickly, moving his hands up further to cup your breasts.

“You can take the bra off, Spence..” You told him, giggling lightly as his hand immediately went to unclasp your bra. You blushed lightly as your bra came off, your bare breast now exposed to him. Slightly embarrassed about being so exposed, you averted your gaze from him. Spencer cupped your breasts in his now warm hands, squeezing the supple flesh lightly.

“You’re so beautiful..” He whispered, in awe.

Your blush depended at his praise, a soft smile on your face.

“You’re beautiful too, Spence.” You replied honestly, smiling at him. He kissed you, the kiss quickly deepening and becoming feverish. You tugged at Spencer’s shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin against your own. He quickly caught on to what you wanted, pulling his shirt over his head and exposing his lean torso to you.

“Lie down.” You commanded, biting your lip. He followed your command, laying down on his back on the bed.

You straddled his lap and leaned down to kiss him before moving your kissed down to his neck, then further down to his chest, trailing kisses down his abdomen. His gasps and whimpers spurred you on, until you got down to the waist of his pants.

“Can I?” You asked softly, looking up at him from your place now between his legs.

His eyes widened as he realised what you wanted to do and he nodded quickly.

You removed his pants as fast as you could, desperate for him. His cock slapped lewdly against his stomach as you removed his pants and boxers, the sight almost making you drool.

With a sudden burst of confidence, you licked a stripe up his cock, from the base to the tip.

A loud moan ripped out of Spencer’s mouth, his head flying back into the pillows.

You bit your lip and smiled at the sound.

“That feel good, Spence?” You asked tauntingly, grinning as he lifted his head from the pillow to nod softly.

Experimentally, you took the tip of him into your mouth, sucking lightly around the leaking head. Spencer's body writhed on the bed as you did this, quiet whimpers filling the room as you slowly lowered your head, taking as much of him as possible without gagging.

“Wait-“ He gasped suddenly. You quickly removed your mouth from around him, tilting your head as you looked at him.

“What’s wrong.. Was I not good?” You ask softly, insecurity showing in your tone.

“What? No! You were amazing- Like so amazing I would have finished really quick.. But I want to try something else before we have sex.” He rushed out.

“What do you want to try?” You asked, smiling softly as you looked at him.

“Well.. I read up a lot on.. Performing oral sex and I would- I would like to do that.. to you. If you want!” He rambled awkwardly, tripping over his words slightly.

You bit your lip as your smile widened, butterflies swarming in your stomach.

“I’d like that..” You smiled. You took the rest of your clothes off before swapping places with Spencer on the bed so that you were laying on your back and he was between your legs.

You squeaked as he suddenly licked a bold stripe up your cunt, similar to what you had done to him previously.

“Oh- Oh my god. Spence!” You squealed as he leaned back for a second before diving in, eating you out like a man starved. Spencer moaned into you as you rocked your hips against his face uncontrollably, overcome by the pleasure. You grasped the sheets with your hands, your toes curling and your eyes rolling back as you came on his skilful tongue, a chorus of moans and whimpers of his name falling from your parted lips.

Spencer leaned back, smiling as he saw at your blissed out expression.

“Was that good?”

“Spence.. That was perfect. How did you- How?! You spluttered, still trying to catch your breath after your orgasm.

Spencer shrugged, and smiled softly.

“A lot of research.” He said simply. You giggled and pulled him down to kiss you, moaning softly into his mouth.

“Spencer- I want you inside of me. Now.” You moaned. He nodded quickly and lined his hard cock up with your entrance.

Slowly, he pushed in, his head dropping into your shoulder as your warm, wet heat enveloped him.

“You- You feel so- So good..” He whimpered as he pushed fully into you.

“You feel good too..” You whimpered, grasping onto his back.

“Please- Please move Spencer!” You whined after a few seconds of him being inside of you, the slightly pain of the stretch worn off into pleasure.

He slowly pulled out, until only the tip of him was inside of you before pushing back in. You both moaned at the feeling, holding each other close.

He began pulling and pushing out of you, both of you moaning as your naked bodies moved against each other.

“Ah! Faster Spence, Please!” You whimpered. He quickly complied, fucking you faster and harder.

“I’m not going to- ah! Last much longer..” He moaned into your bare shoulder as he slammed into you.

“Neither- Neither am I!” You breathed, holding onto him tightly as he rhythmically thrusted into your warm core.

He captured your lips in a heated kiss as he released into the condom, your release coming straight after, your mouth dropping open as the earth shattering sensation over took you.

You both panted harshly as you came down from your orgasms. Spencer moved to pull out but you held onto his shoulders.

“Wait- Just, I want to be close to you right now.” You breathed. He nodded softly, head dropping into your shoulder as you held each other close.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #sub spencer reid #sub!spencer #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer reid #sub!spence

[junipers-archive]

hi hi hi:))) i’ve never made a request before but i desperately need a one-shot of emily and derek being besties at work and messing around with spence. just teasing him and talking abt life idk something to warm my heart🫶

Heyy and its no problem at all but hope you don't mind I made this a blurb because I'm not taking one-shot requests right now!! <3

❥ You overhear the team teasing Spence about his crush on you over the phone

You'd opted to stay home today, having not been feeling very well and gotten it cleared with Hotch. Cases were slow this week and it was no harm.

However you'd also forgotten to inform Spencer, he had called you this morning wanting to know if you were alright, needed anything and all the other basic Spencer doting questions. When your conversation was over he'd hung up, or he assumed he hung up and put his phone back in his pocket.

The truth of the matter was he'd missed the hang up button.

You thought it'd be funny to listen in on his interactions with your co-workers, maybe even get some gossip that wasn't exactly meant for your ears.

He was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, drinking his coffee as he greeted Emily. "Morning." His voice was groggy and you could tell he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.

"What?? Is this a boy genius without his Y/n??" she was sitting at the table, picking at the muffin in front of her.

"W-Whatdoyou mean?" He tried not to show his excitement that people assumed you were his.

"She means that now that L/n isn't here you might not be in the best shape." It was Derek, you could tell by the hint of charisma in his voice that he was grinning.

"I-I can function without y/n!" He was blushing now, as Emily and Derek side-eyed one another, responding to him by scrunching their eyebrows and nodding sarcastically.

You on the other hand were elated, you loved they assumed you were his, you'd had a crush on him since you joined the team.

Derek now walked over to him, putting a rough hand on his shoulder, "Pretty boy can you ask her out already? Cause the googley eyes we have to put up with on the daily is getting repetitive.”

Emily almost spits out her coffee as Spencer begins to malfunction, but she finds breath to add on her own, "Don't get me started on when I had to walk around with you two lovebirds on the last case! It was like I was the side character in your romcom."

You can her them both crack up over her joke, teasing Spencer all the more about his crush.

After they've collected themselves he asks, "D-Do you think she likes me back?"

They collectively groan at his question, Derek like the big brother he is to Spence speaks up first, "Of course she does man, that girl would follow you to ends of the earth. And that's a long way considering you probably know exactly-"

"Twenty four million, nine hundred and one thousand point four hundred and sixty one miles." He cuts in dutifully expressing once more how many absurd facts he knows.

Emily tries to reassure him as Derek shakes his head, "Just ask her, I know Y/n and she would say yes to a date with you!”

And yes oh yes you think, you would say yes twenty four million, nine hundred and one thousand times if it meant you'd get a date with Spencer.

Sadly he sits down before you get your assurance that he'd be doing so. Effectively hanging up on accident, leaving you wondering if he'd get the nerve before you die of this cold.

But you text him anyway asking him to come over, if he didn't ask soon you guessed you'd just have to do it yourself.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #junipers-archive #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you

[byersbootyshorts]

Blood and Tears (S.R.)

When Spencer takes a bullet for you, you struggle to come to terms with what’s just happened.

Word Count: 1,773

Warnings: s9!Spencer, gn!reader, angst, fluff at the end, Spencer getting shot, reader crying, a lot of blood, hospital

this doesn’t really follow the canon episode but I don’t care

You were in the middle of a shootout with a potential unsub. Bullets were flying everywhere and you had no idea where any of your teammates were. You were shooting blind into the building in front of you with no clue as to what your bullets were actually hitting. You heard a shout behind you and instinctually looked around towards the source of the cry. A cop had been hit in the shoulder and was writhing on the ground. The sudden sight of the injured cop caught you so off guard that you almost forgot there were bullets hurtling towards you, until you heard someone shout, “Y/N, watch out!”

And that was when everything started to go blurry. The voice you heard was Spencer’s, warning you of a bullet that was headed straight for you. And now that same bullet was lodged in his neck. He lay bleeding on the ground in front of you. You felt like you were in a trance, moving in slow motion as you dragged his limp body behind an SUV. Spencer’s eyes drifted shut and his breath hitched.

“Hey, Spence, keep your eyes on me,” you said frantically.

You pressed your hand firmly against his wound to try to stop the bleeding but blood still seeped between your fingers and showed no signs of stopping. Spencer kept his eyes open for only a few seconds before he began to lose consciousness.

“No, no, Spencer. Do not shut your eyes. Please, Spencer, look at me,” you panicked.

But his eyes stayed shut.

“Medic! I need a medic!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. You knew you should’ve called for help earlier but you as soon as you saw Spencer fall to the ground it was as if your brain stopped functioning.

“Spencer, open your eyes,” you urged him. “Hurry! Over here!” you called to some silhouettes in the distance who you hoped were medics.

Eventually the medics ran over to you and lifted Spencer onto a stretcher. You held his hand as the medics carried him to the ambulance and didn’t let go as they hoisted him into the back of the vehicle and started speeding to the hospital.

Everything was moving so fast. You could barely breathe. Your whole body was trembling with fear, shock and terror. You tried to make sense of the events that had just unfolded but you couldn’t seem to clear the fog that was clouding your brain. You hoped with every atom in your body that this was all just a bad dream and that you’d wake up to find Spencer lying safely next to you.

But while you didn’t wake up, Spencer did. His eyes opened just a crack and he mumbled incoherently, but at least he was awake. For a moment you felt like you weren’t in a nightmare. You felt that maybe he’d just get up as if nothing happened.

“Spencer, I’m right here. You’re ok,” you said, squeezing his hand.

But just as you felt relief wash over you there was a sudden beeping of machinery.

“Pressure’s dropping. Pulse is threading. Starting a large bore IV,” one of the medics quickly rambled.

“Huh?” you breathed, unable to comprehend what the medic was saying.

“Agent, you need to stand back,” the other medic ordered you.

You moved to the back of the ambulance and sat with your head in your hands, rocking back and forth.

“Stay with me. God, please stay with me, Spence,” you mumbled to yourself.

It wasn’t long (although to you it felt like hours) until you arrived at the hospital. More medics opened the doors of the ambulance and swiftly moved Spencer onto a gurney. Once again, you grabbed his hand as he was wheeled through the tall glass doors of the hospital. You raced down endless hallways until you reached the door to the operating room.

“Agent, you can’t come in here,” a surgeon told you.

“But, I-,” you began, but in your mind you knew you couldn’t be in there with him.

“I’m sorry. We’ll do everything we can,” the surgeon said as you let go of Spencer’s hand and watched as he disappeared into the operating room.

You didn’t know where to go so you slumped against a wall and onto the floor in the hallway that led to where Spencer was in surgery. About thirty minutes passed and you didn’t move from your position. You had your head between your knees. You couldn’t think. Your mind was reeling, trying to make sense of what had happened. You had heard Spencer shout. And then all of a sudden he was on the ground with blood spewing out of his neck. And then it hit you. That bullet was meant for you. He had tried to warn you and then jumped in front of you.

Before you had time to process your new realisation you heard familiar voices coming your way.

“Y/N, you ok?” Alex asked, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

 You looked up to see your team standing above you. All of them shared Alex’s worried expression.

“Spencer,” was all you could manage to mumble.

“We know,” Hotch said. “How long has he been in surgery?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered. Morgan leaned down beside you and helped you off the floor. You noticed the bandage around his arm. Still, your teammates maintained their concerned expressions.

“Hey, how about we go get you cleaned up?” JJ asked softly, holding out her hand to you.

“What?” you said, not understanding why you needed to be ‘cleaned up’. JJ grabbed your hand and for the first time you saw it.

You looked down at your hands and saw that they were covered in blood. Your sleeves were drenched red. You could only imagine what your face looked like considering you’d been sitting with your head in your hands. Your entire face was probably stained with blood.

Spencer’s blood. Not your blood. Spencer’s.

And that’s when everything came crashing down on you. The fact that Spencer had saved your life. The fact that he was in critical condition, fighting for his life because he took a bullet that was meant for you. The fact that you were covered in his blood. So much blood you couldn’t fathom how he could possibly still be alive.

Every realisation hit you at once and, for the first time, you cried. A loud sob escaped you and you almost fell to the floor before Alex caught you and pulled you into a hug. You were staining her clothes with blood but you didn’t care. You wept into her shoulder and she rubbed your back gently.

When you pulled away from her she said, “Why don’t you go with JJ now?” You did as she asked and followed JJ down the hallway, further and further away from Spencer.

It had been hours. JJ had helped wash the blood off you and got you a change of clothes. Once you’d started crying it had been hard to stop. Your body was alternating between sobbing and going numb. Different members of the team had come over and attempted to comfort you but you couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying. All you could focus on was the door that you hoped a doctor would walk through to tell you Spencer was out of surgery.

And finally, a doctor appeared.

“Spencer Reid,” he announced to the waiting room.

“Yes,” you said, practically leaping from your chair. The whole team crowded around the doctor.

“He’s stable.”

Every one of you sighed in relief. A tear rolled down your face and Morgan rubbed your arm.

“I knew that kid was a fighter,” Rossi smiled.

“Can I see him,” you asked, your throat hoarse from shouting and crying.

“He’s not awake yet, but yes, you can see him,” the doctor said.

He led you down more narrow corridors to a recovery room. When you entered you saw Spencer lying unconscious on the bed. His neck was wrapped with bandages and his face was paler than you’d ever seen it. But apart from that he looked no different than how he looked before being shot.

You darted across the room and pulled a chair over to the bedside. You laced your fingers in his and couldn’t help but cry again. Except this time they weren’t tears of sadness, but tears of relief.

You laid your head on the bed, your hand still holding his, waiting for him to wake up. You had no idea how long you’d been there when you felt Spencer’s fingers start to twitch against your hand. You whipped your head up from the sheets to see Spencer’s eyes slowly flicker open.

“Oh my God,” you sniffed.

Spencer turned his head towards you, trying to figure out where he was. When he finally got his bearings he smiled tiredly at you.

“Why are you crying? I’m the one who got shot,” he said groggily, wiping a tear from your cheek.

You let out a choked chuckle and kissed his hand.

“It’s kind of hard not to cry when you don’t know if the man you love is dead or alive,” you replied.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m alive,” Spencer smiled weakly up at you.

You stared into his eyes for a moment, so happy to see them open again. Spencer shifted in the bed slightly and winced when he moved his neck.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you said, helping him readjust his pillows.

“Done what?” Spencer asked, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“That bullet was meant for me.”

“I’m not sorry,” Spencer said bluntly.

“Well, you should be,” you told him off. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Hmm, I’m not really in a rush to try it again. Once was enough for me,” Spencer joked.

“I’m serious, Spence. I cannot lose you,” you said, placing your hand on his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too. That’s why I took that bullet for you.”

You took a deep breath and finally allowed your muscles to relax. You closed your eyes and took a moment to let all the stress of the past couple of hours drain from your body. When you opened your eyes again, Spencer was staring up at you longingly.

“Now, can you please kiss me because I want to kiss you but I can’t really move,” he said, pointing at his bandages.

“If you insist,” you smiled, leaning down gently, making sure not to move his neck too much. You placed your lips on his and tried to forget all the blood and tears you’d just endured.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #gn!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #angst oneshot #fluff oneshot #angst fic #fluff fic

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (Epilogue)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Series Masterlist Part Summary: The couple finally finds the happiness they both deserve. Part Warnings: nothing really just implied smut, fluff, and happily ever after

Author's note at the end!

...One year later...

"WE NEED TO LEAVE."

The urgency in his voice carried a subtle tone of exasperation as the words softly left his lips. The urgency wasn't overtly pronounced, but it lingered in the air, urging her to quicken her pace. She focused her attention on the bathroom mirror, hastily slipping into the dress chosen for the occasion of the night.

"Give me five more minutes!"

"We're already five minutes late!"

"And whose fault is that?" she retorted, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

She could almost imagine the incredulous expression on his face from the other room as he responded, "Mine? Really?"

"Who insisted on spending this afternoon watching a documentary about the wonders of deep-sea exploration?" she teased.

"In my defense, it was fascinating," was his immediate reply. "Did you know there are creatures down there that look like they're from another planet?"

"I know, Spencer, we watched it together, remember?"

"You fell asleep halfway through it."

"Well, in my defense—" She paused, struggling with the zipper of her dress. "You were really warm."

His laughter resonated from the other room. "So it's my fault you're taking forever to get ready now?"

"Absolutely, it's a cause-and-effect scenario," she replied, her arms stretching behind her in an attempt to reach the stubborn zipper. A sudden strain and a high-pitched groan escaped her lips. "Ouch!"

His concerned footsteps approached and he appeared at the bathroom doorway. "What's wrong?"

She winced, rubbing the sore spot on her back. "I strained my muscles trying to zip up this dress."

He raised an eyebrow. "Need a hand?"

She shot him a mock glare. "Are you insinuating I can't handle a zipper?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Of course not. But if we want to make it to Rossi's place on time, maybe a little help won't hurt."

She glanced at him from the mirror as his gaze lingered on her dress, tracing the contours that hugged her figure. She noticed the subtle appreciation in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the effect the outfit had on him. A playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she sighed in mock defeat.

"Fine, but no funny business."

He slowly approached her, gently taking the zipper in his fingers. "No funny business."

She felt his presence as he settled behind her, the air carrying a subtle warmth that seemed to dance across her skin. Instead of immediately tending to the zipper, his fingers, gentle and deliberate, traced a tantalizing path along the exposed skin of her back. His eyes met hers in the mirror, and for a brief moment, time seemed to slow.

"Spence," she breathed out, the name carrying a subtle plea for him to continue or to stop—she wasn't entirely sure which.

"Hmm?"

"I thought we were late."

He smiled, the corners of his lips lifting in a playful yet knowing expression. He held her gaze as he leaned closer to her, brushing a feather-like kiss on her shoulder.

"I believe we can spare a few more minutes," he replied, the timbre of his voice holding a warmth that echoed through the space between them.

She couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. "And what, may I ask, do you plan to do with these 'few more minutes'?"

His lips lingered on her shoulder for a moment longer before he pulled back, still maintaining their proximity. "Well, I was thinking of using them to properly appreciate how beautiful you look tonight."

Her cheeks flushed with a combination of flattery and playful embarrassment. "Very smooth."

She could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin as he spoke, and a teasing glint sparkled in his eyes. "After all, punctuality can sometimes be overrated, don't you think?"

She chuckled. "Coming from someone who likes to be punctual."

"Maybe I've learned a thing or two from you." His fingers traced a gentle pattern on her exposed back, and he murmured, "Besides, Rossi wouldn't mind. We have more important matters to attend to."

She arched an eyebrow, a playful smile on her lips. "And what might that be, Dr. Reid?"

He pushed the strap of her dress down her shoulder, his touch gentle yet filled with a subtle urgency. His fingers traced a delicate path along her skin, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake.

"You," he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down her spine.

As his lips met the exposed curve of her shoulder, a soft sigh escaped her. "Baby... are you really trying to have sex right now?"

"Why wait when the opportunity presents itself?"

She couldn't help but laugh at his sudden change of mind. "You're impossible, you know that?"

He grinned, a boyish charm lighting up his features. "Guilty as charged."

Before she could respond, he dipped his head and sucked on a spot right below her ear. She breathed out a moan and leaned back into him, giving him better access. When she felt him tug down her dress impatiently, her rational thoughts flew out the window.

"Fine," she agreed, letting her dress fall around her feet. "But make it quick."

As if to answer her challenge, he scooped her up in his arms with unexpected strength. Her laughter mixed with a surprised gasp as he carried her towards the bedroom, his lips finding hers in a hungry kiss. Quick was a concept they never quite understood when it came to their sexual needs, but maybe they could entertain the idea, starting from now.

They were an hour late.

Fifty-six minutes, according to Spencer, because apparently, he measured the exact time it took for them to arrive at Rossi's house.

Although calling his place a house seemed like a mockery considering how big the property was. It was more like a mansion, and even when Spencer had taken her here a few times ever since the early stages of their relationship, Rossi's place never seemed to seize her amazement.

The host of the night didn't even bat an eyelash when they arrived, he didn't mind their tardiness. The other team members, however, couldn't resist making comments about the couple's late arrival, and the teasing became even more persistent when the girls cornered her at one point in the night.

Penelope raised an eyebrow with an impish grin. "What took you two so long?"

She wasn't sure how to answer the question. Should she just be honest and tell her she was being fucked in different positions? Penelope didn't seem to be the type to judge, granted, the first time she was introduced to her, the perky blonde woman didn't have much filter on her mouth to begin with. But she also didn't want to discuss her sex life with her boyfriend's colleagues.

She contemplated her response, weighing the balance between honesty and maintaining privacy. Penelope's inquisitive gaze lingered, and she decided on a response that offered some truth without delving into the details.

"We lost track of time," she replied instead, keeping it intentionally vague.

Emily leaned in, a smirk playing on her lips. "Is that so?"

She laughed, her cheeks flushing even more. "It's not what you think."

JJ joined in the teasing, "Well, someone is glowing tonight. I hope you at least have a good excuse for being fashionably late."

"Actually, we were discussing the intricacies of deep-sea exploration."

The girls exchanged amused glances, and Penelope quirked an eyebrow. "Deep-sea exploration, huh? Is that the code for something?"

She laughed. "It's about a documentary."

They exchanged a knowing look, clearly unconvinced by her vague explanation. Despite the embarrassment, she couldn't deny the warmth that spread within her. It was a strange yet comforting feeling, knowing that they had something special that others could only speculate about. When Penelope and Emily left to refill their drinks, JJ leaned in closer to her.

"We're sorry," she insisted. "Spencer never had a serious relationship before, we couldn't stop teasing."

She smiled appreciatively at JJ's sincerity. "No harm done. I understand it comes with the territory, especially with Spencer."

JJ smiled, her expression softening. "Just wanted to make sure you're okay with it."

"I can handle a bit of teasing. Besides, it's all in good fun, right?"

JJ nodded, a friendly smile on her face. "Absolutely. He's a great guy, and we're just happy to see him happy."

She followed JJ's gaze, watching Spencer engage with the kids. His eyes lit up with childlike excitement as he performed a silly magic trick, and the children erupted into giggles. The older child, who initially seemed to act as if he was at a big boy age, now wore a huge grin and eagerly urged Spencer to perform another trick.

She couldn't help but smile as she witnessed his effortless connection with them. It was a sight that made her heart swell with affection. A year ago, she could only dream of such moments. The happiness that Spencer brought into her life was beyond her wildest expectations. Not only was she in a happy and steady relationship, she was welcomed into his world.

The memory of visiting Spencer's mother, a year prior, resonated in her thoughts. Witnessing his patience and tenderness with his mom had moved her to tears. It was a moment that spoke volumes about the depth of their connection and the kindness embedded in his character.

Now, a year later, even when she had interacted with his teammates before, she couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude. Their presence made her feel as if she was embraced as an additional family member to this tight-knit group. The realization touched her deeply, and her eyes lingered on Spencer with so much affection, reaching a point where her heart felt like it was on the verge of bursting.

"He's really good with kids," JJ suddenly said, bringing her back to reality.

She smiled, a warm feeling coursing through her. "Yeah, he is. It's amazing to watch."

JJ nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Have you ever thought of having your own?"

The question hung in the air, and she took a moment to consider it. The idea of starting a family with Spencer had crossed her mind, but discussing it with someone else made it feel more tangible, more real. She took a moment, her gaze drifting back to Spencer, still enchanting the kids with his magic tricks.

"I... I think about it sometimes," she admitted, her voice soft.

JJ's smile widened, and there was a glint of genuine happiness in her eyes. "You two would make wonderful parents."

The compliment warmed her heart. The thought of a family with Spencer, navigating the joys and challenges of parenthood together, painted a vivid and hopeful picture in her mind. Yet, it was also a conversation they hadn't explicitly delved into.

She looked back at Spencer, his laughter mingling with the children's joy, creating a symphony of happiness. The idea of sharing these moments with their own children felt like a dream she hadn't dared to fully embrace. His gaze suddenly met hers and he waved in response.

JJ leaned in, her voice softer. "Whenever you're ready for it, just know you have a whole team here ready to support you both."

A mix of emotions swirled within her. Spencer, seemingly sensing her emotional state, excused himself from the impromptu magic show and approached them.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his brows furrowed with concern.

JJ gave her a knowing look before patting Spencer on the back. "Just sharing some girl talk, don't worry."

He quirked an eyebrow but didn't press further. JJ slowly excused herself and now that they were alone again, he pulled her closer to him, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She leaned into his comforting embrace, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I'm more than okay." Her eyes then trailed over to JJ and her kids again. "They seem to adore you."

He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. "Well, I adore them too."

A comfortable silence settled between them. She wasn't sure it was the right moment to have this discussion, but she found herself voicing her curiosity, even when her heart was beating fast. "Have you ever thought of... having kids?"

Spencer's gaze softened as he considered the question and she waited with bated breath for his reply.

"I used to, but then I've always been focused on my work and solving cases." He paused, his fingers gently tracing circles on her back. "Although lately, I find myself thinking about it more, especially with you."

She let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding. "With me?"

"Who else would I be thinking of having a family with?"

She couldn't help but smile at his response, a warmth blooming in her chest. "Fair point."

His thumb continued its gentle movements on her back. "The idea of creating a home together, it—” he let out a sigh. “It sounds like a dream."

Her heart skipped a beat. "It does, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," he said, a soft smile playing on his lips. "It really does."

They stood there, wrapped in the warmth of shared dreams and the quiet excitement of the future. But then her smile faltered, a subtle cloud of worry casting a shadow on her face. Spencer sensed the shift and gently tugged her. "What's wrong?"

Her eyes reflected a hint of concern. "I... I haven't had my period this month."

His own brows furrowed as he performed a quick calculation in his head. "Of course, you haven't, you're due—" his words trailed off as his gaze met hers. "...two weeks ago."

She wasn't sure which one was more surprising—his knowledge of her menstrual cycle or the fact that she was two weeks late. The weight of the situation settled in, and just as anxiety started to swell within her, Spencer's face transformed into a wide grin.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "Spence—I... what if...?"

His grin widened, eyes filled with a mix of excitement and joy. "What if we're going to be parents?"

She threw him a ludicrous look. "How are you not panicking?"

He laughed. "Didn't we discuss how great it would be to start a family?"

"Well, sure, somewhere in the future, not now."

He led her away from the festive atmosphere surrounding them to a quieter area out on the back porch. When they were finally alone, he stood in front of her, making sure his body was shielding her distraught face.

"Hey," he said gently, cupping her face in his hands, "This could be a wonderful surprise. We just talked about it, right?"

She nodded, but uncertainty still lingered in her eyes. "Yeah, but it's so sudden. I didn't expect it to happen a minute later after we discussed it. What if we're not ready? What if—"

"No one is ever fully ready for a significant change, but we have each other, and we'll figure it out,” he cut in, his thumbs caressing her cheeks.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "But... w-what if I'm not a good mom?"

His gaze softened, and he cradled her face in his hands. "Are you kidding? You'll be an amazing mom. I've seen the kindness, strength, and love in you. Those are the qualities that make a great parent."

Her heart swelled at his words. She sniffled, a small smile breaking through. "You really think so?"

"I know so," he affirmed, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

A sense of calm washed over her as she absorbed his words, holding him closer. It was scary, yet nothing was certain yet, and there was no use in her worrying. He gently wiped away a tear she wasn't even aware of.

"We'll take it one step at a time. And no matter what happens, we have each other and a lot of people who care about us."

Her eyes traveled towards the group of people behind the glass window. The same people who had saved her life, the people who took care of her, the people who embraced her with open arms.

She slowly nodded, feeling a mix of emotions—fear, excitement, and so much affection. "Okay," she whispered.

"You know I love you, right?"

She softly smiled, a tender warmth enveloping her. Her thoughts traveled to the first time he confessed his love for her, remembering how flustered and embarrassed he had been. Now, those three words came effortlessly, carrying a depth that only time and shared experiences could carve.

"I do," she whispered, her gaze lingering on him. "And I love you too."

He smiled affectionately. "We'll get a test pack on the way home."

He then brushed a strand of hair away from her face and leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The irony of her initial thoughts about how wrong it was to be involved with him crossed her mind. The circumstances that once cast shadows of guilt over her feelings now seemed to dissolve, replaced by an overwhelming sense that everything was right.

Their bodies melded together seamlessly, and the way his lips brushed over hers felt nothing short of perfect. She couldn't help but feel that what initially seemed like the wrong path had led them to this moment. It was the right kind of wrong—a beautiful contradiction that had crossed their lives together in ways they could have never predicted.

And the two lines greeting them later that night were evidence of how right everything was going to be.

.

Author's note

When I started this series, my goal was to give him the happy ending he deserves and a proper love interest. One that had a back story, one that clearly didn’t die, and one that would make him a dad! I wanted to portray a story as if you were watching a Spencer-centric plot on the show. (Although with the amount of smut here, I doubt it could be aired)

And with that being said, I apologize for any inaccuracy of the crime/mystery plot. Although it's not perfect, I'm pretty happy with how this turned out throughout the eight months this story went on. Yep, EIGHT MONTHS. This was my very first post on this blog and I'm deeply attached to it.

So thank you for reading, commenting, sharing, interacting, and just accepting me and my ideas. It's also safe to say that I won't be writing another series in the near future, but I will still be posting other things. 

Again, thank you so much. I love each and every one of you💕

.

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[just-jordie-things]

omg i love the way u write jjk characters! i was reading ur work and had a scenario that i thought would be so fun to read from you if you like the idea! i was thinking abt if you got drunk with them at the school (like maybe all the students sneak to one persons dorm or something), how they would act drunk, how they would treat u, what would happen etc. my favs are toge and yuji but you could do whoever ofc!

ok idk if this is exactly what you were looking for but since i've wrtten a few fics now where drinking/partying was the theme, i'm gonna assign the jjk crews their party night roles lolol so enjoy

ITADORI YUUJI is the life of the party, obviously. he's the type to bring jello shots to the function and if no one wants them, he'll eat em all himself. he's the guy that you dare to do stuff as the night goes on. he's the guy that somehow, at the end of each party, is missing a shirt. did he go swimming? did someone spill on it? did he spill on it? (most likely) everyone laughs but no one really complains about it. he's always got a fun plan or game in mind to keep the night going, and everyone's happy to have him there.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI is the shy-at-first guest. he's slow when he first gets there, and always claims he doesn't want to get too fucked up. he's got a never ending amount of excuses up his sleeve as to why he can't take that shot with you, or be your partner for beer pong. but give him an hour to warm up. he'll spend that time lining up a fire playlist and semi-mingling. the trick to getting him to loosen up? just a quick smoke first. don't jump on him with it, but if he sees a joint being passed around, he can't resist just a couple puffs. what's the harm, right? a couple puffs and he's giving in to whatever other party shenanigans come his way.

KUGISAKI NOBARA is in charge of the photography for the evening. everyone's instagrams and snapchat stories are well taken care of when she's around. in the early parts of the evening they're casual photos, fit checks, some candids of the laughing group as they play games or eat pizza. she's quite good with lighting and angles, and no one complains when she shoves her phone in their face. as the night goes on, she probably documents more than she should- toge drawing on yuuta's face while he's passed out, yuuji shirtless and covering himself in whipped cream on a dare- but it's always too funny to go through them the next day and delete half the evidence.

PANDA is the dancer. if he's drinking, he's dancing. it doesn't matter how many drinks are in his system. it doesn't matter if the music is particularly fun- or even playing. he's got too much excitement from hanging out with his friends and is down for a good time. he's also easy to coerce into pranking someone.

INUMAKI TOGE is the coercer of pranks. if someone passes out, he's always got a marker on him. he always has the best dares for truth or dare, and isn't afraid when others want to get their revenge. he's that class-clown energy at the party. sometimes it's annoying, but it's always undeniably funny. he definitely likes those tacky party favors from spencers. especially the big dick shaped syringes for taking shots. he's got a lot of sus 'party decorations'. but let's be real it's really fucking funny when he breaks out the newest one. also if he gets too drunk he will use his cursed speech for the sake of humor.

ZEN'IN MAKI is the bartender and general caretaker of the group. she's the best at mixed drinks and knows everyone's favorite, but always has something new to try. as the designated bartender she's also the one subtly making sure everyone is on a good track for the night. most of the time it just meant keeping an eye on yuuji and toge, reminding them to have some water every once in a while went a long way. and she's not afraid to cut you off if you're getting sloppy. i also think she'd roll the fattest, cleanest joints when she's not mixing drinks.

OKKOTSU YUUTA is the first to fall asleep. he's a good time, don't get me wrong. he loves the games and the dancing and the goofing around, but he's an overworked boy and... a bit of a lightweight. motherfucker takes two hits and is shaking his head the rest of the rotation. it's kinda cute that his eyes get all red after so little before he raids the snack table. maki knows he has a five drink limit before he either needs to drink water or rally or... as usual, he's slumped into the couch and snoozing away. it's a miracle that he can sleep so hard when the music is blasting and everyone has to yell to be heard- especially when it's itadori yelling. by the end of the night, someone's thrown a blanket over him, and toge's vandalized his face with permanent marker.

#THIS WAS SO FUN AAHHH HEHEHE #megumi brainrot #yuuji brainrot #nobara brainrot #maki brainrot #toge brainrot #yuuta brainrot #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujtusu kaisen fanfiction #itadori yuuji x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #inumaki toge x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader