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#this is a weak and tired spencer
ddejavvu · 8 months
Note
What about spencer with a reader who is normally so independent and does everything for herself but she’s so soft for spencer and lets him dote on her and take care of her and the team is like :o bc they can’t believe she is letting someone do things for her
"I'm not a tyrant," Spencer's voice is inexhaustibly patient, and his fingers are slightly awkward as he holds them around his phone, angling it awkwardly so that you can see his upper half on face-time while he sits at his desk, "I just want you to take your medicine so that you can get better."
"I am better," You insist, your voice a far cry from its usual drawl. It's more ragged and weak, and you definitely have a stuffy nose, which indicates how untruthful your words are. Everyone knows it, most of the bullpen can hear your insistent griping, and they're beginning to feel bad for Spencer. They can't imagine how he'd gotten you to stay home today, but they're shooting each other knowing grins each time you push back against his gentle insistence.
"No, angel, you're not." Spencer croons, "You're on the mend, but you're not recovered yet. And you'll get worse if you don't take your meds. I put them on the nightstand for you, and some water. All you have to do is take them, and go back to sleep."
"I don't want to sleep!" You insist, and it's a whine- a whine! Emily's mouth splits in an incredulous grin, and a laugh threatens to tremble Derek's broad shoulders at how juvenile your attempts at protest have become. They're used to your biting words, your forceful demeanor, your inability to surrender any control, but Spencer's got you tucked into the covers begging for a kiss on the forehead.
"I've been sleeping all day, and I slept all day yesterday, and the day before that. I'm tired of sleeping. Just let me fill out some paperwork! Anything, Spence, please."
He chews on the inside of his cheek, ignoring the way that JJ giggles suspiciously with Penelope, who's leaning against the side of her desk, drawn out of her office for the spectacle.
"You can read," He relents, "And you can watch tv but only if you do it on your computer with the night light setting turned on," He narrows his eyes, taking on your rather rough persona to ensure that his orders are obeyed, "Promise?"
"Promise," You rasp, and the team can hear the smile in your voice, "Thanks, Spencer."
"Use the night light setting," He warns instead of accepting your thanks, "I'll check later to see if it's turned on!"
"Okay!" You laugh, and Spencer winces lightly as the sound morphs into a thick cough, "Okay, I'll- ah, I'll see you later, baby."
"See you later," He concedes with a fond smile, waving in addition to his verbal goodbyes, "Love you."
"Love you too," You promise, then end the call. Spencer feels the weight of everyone else's stares on him as he sets his seldom-used phone down and resumes working, refusing to acknowledge them unless they prod at him first.
"Good job, Spence," JJ congratulates, "I didn't think she'd ever take a sick day."
"I know," Emily gushes with bright eyes and a wild smile, "If I tried to tuck her in she'd probably bite me."
"Well, that's 'cause you don't have Pretty Boy's charm," Derek cracks, though the smile that he flashes Prentiss is reassurance that he's teasing Spencer more than he's teasing her, "Congrats on wearing the pants today, Reid. Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause as soon as she's out of bed, she's taking the wheel again."
Spencer takes great pleasure in levelling Derek with a meaningful, "Shut up," because he's more than happy to be your passenger princess any day.
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luveline · 8 months
Note
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." 
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chvoswxtch · 5 months
Text
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!
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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
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reiderwriter · 7 months
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The One Thing You Can't Have
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Pairing: Spencer Reid × Female Reader (DBF! Spencer × Hotchner! Reader)
Summary: After five years away, you move back to your hometown. Reconnecting with many of your father's friends and coworkers, you start to get suspicious when you lose multiple pairs of panties. Or; Spencer risks it all by stealing Hotch's adult daughter's underwear. And maybe her heart, too.
Warnings: Day 15 of Kinktober - panties, mentions canon character death, age difference (ten years), panties, underwear kink, underwear stealing, masturbation, sexual fantasies discussed, PinV Sex, clitoral stimulation, partial creampie, mentions of emergency contraception
A/N: It is done! I shit you not the writing time on this is longer than most of the fics I've ever written, it took me so long that I don't have any other fics prewritten for Kinktober now and have to spend the day hastily writing them... But it was worth it. As always, you can find all my work in my masterlist and all my kinktober fics here. My requests are open until the end of the month, so if there's a specific fic you want, don't hesitate to let me know!
With your family the way it was, you'd dealt with a lot over the years. Aaron Hotchner loved his wife and kids, but that hadn't been enough to protect you from George Foyet. When your mom and kid brother had gone into protective custody, you'd been away at college, and apart from a protective detail, they'd not seen fit to move you anywhere special at all. Foyet was so caught up on your mom that he'd forgotten you existed.
When you got the call from your dad that Foyet was resurfacing, you'd known in your gut that you had to go back. You'd ditched your handlers and driven through the night but when you arrived at the house you'd grown up in, all you could see was police lights and caution tape.
You'd run as fast as you could into the house, but a pair of strong arms grabbed you and lifted you away as you screamed and sobbed. Derek Morgan held you firm as he tried to calm you, but you barely registered his words.
"My mom is in there, my dad too, and Jack, let me fucking go, Derek." You'd only stopped raging when they'd bought out the first body bag. And then the second.
The anguish that filled your lungs stole your breath and you didn't know it was you screaming until your throat was red and completely sore. Another set of hands led you away and into an ambulance, skillfully anticipating your needs.
"Y/N, look at me. Look at my eyes, we're going to breathe together, okay?" Staring up into his dark eyes you suddenly remembered that you needed the air to breathe, his calm voice bringing you back to life.
He was wearing an FBI vest but you'd never seen him before. Not a surprise since you'd avoided everything to do with your father's job for the last five years. You only really knew Derek from when he'd been sent to deliver the news to you about Foyet's initial targeting of you.
The Man in front of you was young, but still older than you. He was tall, but he'd shrunk himself down into the space, leaning over you so that he was the only thing you could see. He looked tired, but he was the only thing for miles around keeping you grounded and you clung to him in desperation.
"My Name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I work with your dad. You're Y/N, right?" His voice was soft and even, like he was taming a temperamental animal. Even though you knew what he was doing, trying to calm you so he could deliver a devastating blow, you let him do it, drinking in each word as total calm swept over you. You nodded at him and waited for him to continue.
"Your brother is fine, he's at your aunt's house, he didn't touch him. Your dad is in the hospital and they think he's going to pull through, but he was stabbed a few times so he's going to be weak for a while." You searched his eyes for the words he wasn't saying as panic rose in your body.
"My mom, where is my mom? Haley Hotchner, she's… She should have been with Jack, where is she?" The look in his eyes was enough to tell you what in your heart you already knew. Your mom was in that bag and your family was broken, again.
You don't know what happened next, but you knew you were bundled up in Spencer Reid's arms and clinging to him for dear life. You knew he'd somehow got you to your aunt's house, and you knew he'd stayed until you were ready to let him go. Even years later you don't know how long he'd held you. Maybe only minutes, maybe hours. He had let you sit and grieve, finding small comfort in the contours of his body.
After that, college wasn't a priority for you. Your brother was only a baby, and he needed you around, so even the three-hour drive upstate seemed too far to be away from him. You stuck around, taking your courses as remotely as they'd let you for the semester and struggling for it.
Your dad felt guilty, of course. For your mom, for the derailing of your life, and for the way he had to keep leaving because that was the job. In all honesty, you didn't mind being home more at that time.
There was Jack, who was great, and your Aunt was so much like your mom that sometimes it was like she was still with you, even a little bit. And there was Spencer, too.
After it had become evident that you were going to fail the only required course you were taking that semester (algebra was your enemy), your dad had sought out the only person he knew with a good grasp of mathematics and no weekend plans and roped them into tutoring you. Which meant that your weekends were suddenly fully booked by him.
He seemed a little different from the first time you’d met him, but that was a given considering the circumstances. He held himself a little taller, and more relaxed as he talked about the kinds of equations you were supposed to use and formulas you were supposed to memorize. He was attentive but not too close, and he’d shown up with shorter hair and now that you could see more of his face, more of his neck, you found yourself getting distracted by the oddest things. The stubborn but small stubble on his neck, the way sweat trailed down his face, the movement of his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed, the way the breeze from your open window tousled his hair.
It took you a distractingly long time to realize that you were physically attracted to him, but when you did realize, it was suddenly all you could think about. You spent most of your days working on math so you’d have some excuse to call or text him. The mornings before your lessons together you’d taken to hogging the bathroom long enough to shave, wash and dry your hair and apply a natural but still skilled amount of make-up. You were surprised that neither of the big bad profilers had caught onto the stench of your puppy love, because you were dripping with desperation.
He never budged of course, too oblivious or too noble to lay a hand on an eighteen-year-old. Or just smart enough to know not to lay a hand on his boss's daughter.
You certainly weren’t making it easy for him though.
“Spencer, what do you think of my outfit today? I’m going out with some friends from high school tonight for a meal, do I look okay?” You’d twirled for him innocently, knowing full well the speed of your spin would throw your already short skirt up past your panties for a split second.
“I don’t think I’m the best person to ask about clothes, Y/N. Maybe ask your dad.” His flush was evident enough that you knew it had worked but his hands were rigid by his sides and he carefully guided you back to the topic at hand.
It turned out that after a semester of tutoring, you’d become such a whizz at mathematics that you’d passed with flying colors. You’d been so excited to tell Spencer that you drove straight to Quantico, using the family pass your father had given you for emergencies to gain access. Spencer didn’t know what hit him when you launched yourself into his arms and wrapped your legs around him, but he’d somehow stayed upright as you buried your face once again in his neck.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Spencer! I got an A, the Professor was so shocked by my improvement that he asked me if I’d cheated. When I dropped your name, he freaked.” Spencer’s eyes were wide and blinking frantically as his hands struggled to find a place to hold you. You’d worn another scandalously low skirt and it seemed the only way to pry you off of him was to put a hand on or dangerously close to your ass.
You enjoyed watching his internal struggle, and so did quite the number of FBI agents, until your father spoiled the fun by walking out of his office to check the commotion.
“Y/N Hotchner, get down from there, now.” Your father rarely raised his voice at you, choosing a softer approach to parenting than many would expect. That meant that on the rare occasion that he did feel the need to speak up, you shut your mouth and listened. Detangling yourself from Spencer’s arms with an awkward smile, you tried your best to nonchalantly bounce over to your father and explain why you were there.
He motioned for you to follow him to his office, and you complied, letting one ear stay clear to focus on the sound of Reid being teased by all of his coworkers about the scene you’d just caused.
Your dad didn’t exactly scold you for the incident, so much as he tried to insinuate that you should head back home, and then head back to college, too. With months between you and the Foyet incident, he’d been hinting at letting you get back to your life for a while, but your stunt with Reid had him suddenly addressing it more overtly.
To say that your family dinner that night was a pain in the ass was an understatement.
“Y/N, Daddy said you went to his work today!” Jack had started the conversation, and you knew the tactical warfare was beginning.
“That’s right, buddy! I had to thank Spencer for helping me with my schoolwork.” You smiled at your brother before turning a suspicious glance toward your dad, who sat peacefully eating his dinner. The fact that you were even all eating together should’ve alerted you to something going on behind the scenes.
“Uncle Spencer is the best!” It wasn’t Jack’s fault he’d just given your father the best ammunition he could’ve asked for.
“Do you agree, Y/N? Do you think your Uncle Spencer is the best?” He was using his calm interrogation voice and you hated it.
“Dad, please, he’s not that much older than me, it’s weird for me to call him Uncle.”
“He’s ten years your senior, Y/N. You know that right?” You didn’t move as your eyes locked together with his, as he seemingly asked a more serious question in the subtext. You weren’t ready to answer it though, and so you buckled under the pressure, looking away first and eating the rest of your meal in silence.
Without saying much of a goodbye to any member of your father’s teammates, you decided that it was about time you continued with your life, not letting the actions of George Foyet hold you in a standstill any longer. You went back to college full-time, got your degree, and got a job in a city near your college town. You came back home regularly, but in the five years since your mother's death, you hadn’t talked to or heard from Spencer Reid.
Job opportunities were better in D.C. though, so after growing up and having some time away, you came right back to your childhood home, ready to start over. It was only temporary, of course, and you had a job lined up, but apartments were so hard to come by, especially ones that were actually livable, that you needed to do a lot of searching to find one that felt right.
So your dad’s home it was. With Jack a bit older and constantly away at school or clubs or friend’s houses, and your dad’s schedule the way it was, you’d practically got the house to yourself. And after living alone and with female roommates for half a decade, you’d almost grown too comfortable in your own skin. The summer between your move and the start of your new job was hot and sticky, and you found yourself taking more and more cold showers after your morning workouts.
Normally at 11 a.m., you had the house to yourself, and you’d happily stroll around in a small towel and dry yourself off. If your father or brother were home, you’d cover yourself up a bit more, sure, or just head to your room quicker, obviously.
So emerging from your shower, the last thing you expected was coming face to face with Doctor Spencer Reid sitting on your couch, the one that was directly on your path between the bathroom you’d just emerged from and the room you needed to be in. You cursed your father and his practically-sized apartment as you floundered your way through a greeting of the man you hadn’t seen in five years.
“Spencer, hi. What... What are you doing on my dad’s couch?” You clutched the towel close to your body, trying not to shiver as he trailed his eyes over your body, eyes just as big and wide as the last time you’d seen him.
“We were on our way to a local crime scene, he went to grab something from…” His voice trailed off as he pointed towards the master suite where you could now faintly hear the sound of your dad on the phone to someone.
“Right. Great. I should probably…” You gestured to the room and quickly started making your way toward it, trying not to visibly cringe at the most awkward post-shower interaction you’d ever had.
“What are you doing here?” His voice shot out quickly, and you whipped around so fast, that you almost panicked and dropped the towel completely.
“Oh, I… Did my dad not mention? I got a job at a company nearby, so I moved back. I’m staying here with Dad and Jack until I can find a decent apartment.”
“Oh, wow. Well, it’s nice to have you back. It’s been like five years since you left, right?” His tone was bright and he was nodding his head, but the words set fire to your nerve endings as you remembered that you’d practically run away from him. Even after half a decade, he was having a physical impact on you.
“Yeah, that sounds about right. You have a good memory.”
“You know, I get that a lot.” His grin ignited something in your chest, and you gathered the laundry you’d left on the sofa and quickly excused yourself before you could prove yourself more of a idiot than you could already make a case for.
Spencer watched you go, wondering just when Hotchner was going to emerge from his hiding place to attack him for so openly ogling his half-naked daughter. He stood on the spot staring at your door for a moment too long before dragging his eyes away. Unluckily for him, what he found on the floor had him panicking all over again.
“Y/N, your forgot…” He grabbed the lacy material in his fingers and went to open the door before stopping, realizing that you were probably completely bare behind that door now. The thought sent him into a tailspin, and he once again stood clueless for a beat too long with a pair of your freshly laundered panties in his hands.
He considered dropping them back on the floor, but he didn’t want them to get dirty again after you’d washed them so nicely. He should’ve just left them on the sofa for you to find later, but when Hotch’s voice grew louder and clearer behind him, fear took over and he shoved them into the closest hiding space he could find. His pocket.
“Callahan found something for us at the ME’s office, she’s meeting us at the precinct, let’s go.”
And just like that he was out the door, and he had officially signed his own death warrant.
You never noticed that the first pair went missing. When it became a pattern though, you did become suspicious. Three pairs of underwear in thirty days seemed a bit much, and unless your building's laundry machines were eating them, you had no clue where they could've been.
It's not that Spencer even meant to do it any of the times he did. But when he'd returned home that first day, overwhelmed with the caseload he'd been handed and found the offending item still right there in his coat pocket, the blood had rushed straight to his head.
He'd spent a half hour in agony staring at them, trying to smooth them out so they wouldn't get crumpled, his dick twitching at every slight movement he made. It had been quite a few months since he'd had sex, never really one for casual hook-ups. But if the result of several months of celibacy was stealing underwear then he thought maybe it would be best to have sex sooner rather than later.
He couldn't resist the temptation. Popping the button of his pants, he'd taken his cock in his hand and worked his way up and down his shaft imagining you dropping that towel. He imagined you wearing the panties and nothing else as you replaced his hand with your mouth, desperate to please. Taking the panties in his hand, he began directly masturbating into them, wishing so needily that you were still inside them.
When he shot his load, he soaked them through, and the shame that overcame him was intense and swift.
You never realized that he'd somewhat avoided you after that, doing his best to stay away for fear he'd let his perversions rule his actions. You had somehow made yourself unavoidable though.
The first time he saw you again it was at one of Rossi's family get-togethers. It had been years since you'd seen some of the members of the team, so you were really looking forward to it. Plus, Rossi had boasted of a recently installed pool and jacuzzi within his invitation, and you were excited to check them out with the fine summer weather actually staying fine.
You'd brought your bikini with you and changed in one of the ground-floor bathrooms, wrapping another towel around yourself before you finally made your way to the pool. But once again, wrapped in a towel, you'd come face to face with Spencer Reid.
"Y/N, I didn't know you were coming." He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and this time worked especially hard to not let his gaze travel all over your skin. He regretted his entire existence as he realized he'd have to hide his micro-expressions around countless profilers, some of whom were present and accounted for when you'd last been seen together.
Derek was going to give him hell.
"Yeah, Uncle David invited me! I'm so excited for the jacuzzi, I haven't been in one since college."
"You call Rossi 'Uncle David?'" The thought had tickled him, humor sparkling in his eyes as he finally smiled at you.
"Why yes I do, and if you're not careful, my dad is going to make me start calling you Uncle Spencer again." You skipped off merrily after that, leaving your spare clothes and your discarded ones in the bathroom Reid had obviously been waiting for.
His smile soured as he realized the impact of your words. Uncle Spencer. Huh. Some fucking "Uncle" he was. He washed his hands thoroughly, having spilled some kind of drink down himself before greeting you, as his eyes fell to the pile of clothes you'd left neatly in the corner.
He tried to tell himself he couldn't do it again, but curiosity and arousal lit up his entire body and carried him forward. Jeans, a t-shirt, socks, and shoes were left tidily discarded, but he couldn't obviously see any underwear. There was a second pile of neat clothes and he looked at that one thoroughly as well, but after a minute it was evident that you'd hidden your unmentionables from clear sight.
He heard the happy cheers and smiles from outside, and painstakingly attempted to pull away, but he couldn't. Rooting through your things, he found them. He found two of them, really. The used underwear you'd likely just taken off, and the fresh pair you were going to change into. Spoiled for choice he sat in a stasis, mentally cursing himself for being so stupidly horny.
It would be wrong to take another pair. And certainly wrong of him to take the clean pair which you'd instantly noticed were missing when you tried to put them on to wear them.
The used pair though. He held them delicately in both hands, the slip of material not as fancy as the ones he'd used before, but somehow more enticing.
Letting his cock rule his thoughts he brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply, and it was like a bomb going off in the back of his head. He had to have them.
Organizing the bathroom into the exact layout as he'd found it, making sure not even a hair was out of place. The panties were safely in his pocket, and he took a minute to get his body physically and mentally under control before exiting the bathroom and rejoining his friends.
The next time he'd taken some, they'd really been handed to him like a gift. One month back at home, and you felt slightly stifled by the overbearing presence of your father. You needed a nice, messy night out, and you sure got it.
The friends you'd reconnected with had taken you out to a slew of clubs, and by the end of the night, you were tripping and stumbling into anything and anyone in your path. It was as if you were magnetically drawn to every object in your way, unfortunately, one just happened to be tall and lean and caught you before you could tumble off again.
"Y/N?" He looked down at you, confused as he took in your intoxicated state.
"Uncle Spencie!" You relaunched yourself into his arms, reminiscent of that day in the bullpen. "Uncle Spencie I can't believe you're here!" You giggled into his neck as you buried yourself there, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck as you pulled away to grin at him again.
"Y/N, how drunk are you?"
"How you are drunk, huh? Why don't we ever ask that question?" You sent yourself into a fit of giggles as your friends watched the scene play out behind you.
"Girls, this is Doctor Spencer Reid. My daddy is his boss. Isn't he cute?" Your arms still wrapped territorially around Spencer, you introduced your friends who cackled approvingly at your drunk shenanigans.
"Y/N, you need to let me go, the others…"
"Others? Is daddy here? AARON!! AAAAROOOOOO-" He clamped a hand over your mouth and moved you to the side of the road to hail a taxi as fast as possible. Apologizing to your friends, he quickly stuffed you into the cab and gave the driver your address.
"Uncle Spencer, I just wanted to see my daddy and his other friends. Why are you being so mean?" The exaggerated pout on your face had him dragging a hand down over his face as he struggled to pull a seatbelt over you.
"If your dad had seen you wrapped around me like that, he'd have killed one of us."
"Both of us," you nodded and giggled. Your short dress was riding up your thighs, the leather seats of the car feeling unbearably hot and sticky under your skin. You shifted uncomfortably a few times, your underwear eating into your skin in an uncomfortable manner.
"Y/N, what are you doing?" He sternly whispered the words into your ears as he grabbed your wrists. It was too late though, you'd already worked your underwear down your thighs enough that they'd reached your knees and then fallen around your ankles.
"It felt bad, I didn't like it." You leaned your head back and let your legs hang open slightly, just enough that Spencer could see the taxi driver angling for a look.
He snapped a hand between your legs, closing off the view before snatching up the underwear from the floor and pocketing it. You didn't know nor care though, the motion of the car rocking you off into a deep sleep. He'd ended up having to carry you up to your apartment, getting you ready for bed, and leaving just fast enough for Hotch to not catch him hanging over his unconscious daughter.
And he had a third pair of your underwear.
He spent his days wondering just what the fuck was wrong with him, and his nights jerking off to your scent, wondering just how willing he'd be to climb into bed with you and if he'd have the strength to say no.
He was normal enough in your interactions with one another. You'd seen each other at various case celebrations, at parties hosted by the team members, which that summer were high in total. You couldn't resist the temptation to flirt with him, but it was only when the two of you were well out of earshot of anyone who might frown upon it. You didn't think he even noticed that's what you were doing anyway.
Spencer did notice. And he kept noticing and was disgusted by how much he wanted you. You were Hotch’s daughter. He’d seen pictures of you as a child, he’d held you while you cried over your mom and the stress of having to be a responsible adult after everything happened with Foyet, he’d known how much you hated having to grow up quickly when you had Hotch for a dad, and he felt gross that despite all of that he wanted to fuck you so badly that he’d resorted to petty thievery and letting you flirt with him under your father's nose.
It was towards the end of your summer at home when you finally noticed the missing pieces. You'd even almost mentioned it to your dad before thinking it through a bit more. If it wasn't some laundry mix-up, he was going to go full FBI on every man who came close to you, and that was a risk you weren't willing to take.
In the end, you were thankful you said nothing.
The BAU team had been out on a case for ten days, the largest amount of time they'd been away since you'd moved home, and you'd decided to greet them as soon as they returned, congratulate them on a job well done.
You knew they were already heading to their regular bar after they finished their paperwork, but you had some morale to boost in the meantime, so a donut delivery plus enough coffee to stay awake for hours was in order.
They'd practically thrown themselves off the jet and into the box of donuts, each of them thanking you for the happy greeting after what had to have been a hard time away.
"Y/N, you didn't have to do this, but thank you. The team really appreciates it." Your dad had looked at you with a proud look before showing you up to his office, letting you wait on his couch until everyone was finished.
You got bored quickly and asked if you could help with anything, which is how you became your dad's errand-runner. He sent you to the printer to pick up papers, you'd run to get him more coffee from the pot twice and he sent you to ask the others about their progress. Which was totally fine had they not looked like paperwork-writing zombies on the verge of collapse.
"Y/N, head down to Spencer's desk, he should have a file on the geographical profile I need." He hadn't even glanced up to ask you that, but he did shout a thank you out the door, so you suppose he could be forgiven for now.
Bouncing down the stairs you noticed Spencer was deep in the middle of reading some files, doing that speed reading thing you'd heard him talk about but never witnessed.
"Spencer." He didn't look up, too focused on the words in front of him. "Spencer, my dad needs a file."
"Go-bag. Reading, give me a minute." He still hadn't even glanced at you so you pulled yourself around his desk to search for his go-bag yourself. It was on the floor, and you pulled it towards you, settling down on the floor to open it up and look for the files you needed.
You probably should have had more reservations about rooting through Spencer's things because just as you pulled the zip fully open, it seemed like his eyes shot wide and he threw his head in your direction, finally distracted from his work.
"Wait, don't look in-" He whisper-screamed the words at you frantically, but it was too late. The first thing your hand had closed around in the bag was small and delicate and somewhat rumpled, and your hand had a mind of its own pulling it out into your lap so the two of you could see it.
Your panties. One of your missing pairs of panties was in Spencer Reid's go-bag.
Both of you sat there for a few moments, neither of you moving, the eye contact not breaking one second as you both stared at each other in fear and surprise.
He cleared his throat quietly and whispered down at you, "I can explain…" but he didn't get a chance as you swiftly grabbed the file you'd come for - helpfully pulled into plain view by your rustling about - hid your panties back in your own pocket, zipped his bag up and swiftly ran all the way back to your dad's office.
You sat on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, no longer eager to do chores. Spencer had your underwear. He'd stolen it. He'd taken it across the country with him. He'd…You didn't know what he was doing with it, really, but you knew that every image of him with them had the most dirty, exciting, disgusting thoughts running through your head.
You grabbed your things and quickly headed out after that. Penelope caught you by the elevator as you made to leave.
"No, sweetie, where are you going? I thought you were coming to celebrate with us after this, I was so looking forward to having the fun Hotchner around, not the grumpy, serious one."
"I'm just going home to freshen up. I smell like coffee and Quantico, which when you're not nose blind to it isn't the most optimal scent." You promised her you'd see her there, and with a quick glance back at the office, where Spencer was sat tense, looking like he wanted to either run after you or shout something across the room, you left.
By the time you'd arrived home, there were ten missed calls on your cell, and you didn't have to even speculate about who they might be from because there were texts too.
Spencer: I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, call me when you get this.
Spencer: I know it's weird and I'll understand if you hate me, but please talk to me.
Spencer: Please don't tell your dad.
You'd scoffed at that last one as if you'd ever have been that stupid. But you didn't reply or call him, letting him suffer in silence.
This entire time, you'd been operating on the basis that Spencer Reid didn't see you the way you saw him. That he didn't think of you as an adult but as your father's daughter. And now you were confronted with the truth that he was just as fucking lustful and horny as you'd been since you met him at 18? You weren't letting this opportunity pass you by.
Taking the panties out, you stared at them again, trying to figure out just what he'd been doing with them. You recognized them as the pair you'd lost on your night out, bright red and lacy, eye-catching, and definitely yours. He hadn't even tried to lie to you about that, but how willing would you have been to accept the fact that Spencer had stolen someone else's panties? Or been gifted them? Probably not very.
You'd assumed you'd left this pair in the taxi, not entirely sure how you'd ended up in the car in the first place or why you would decide they were uncomfortable right there. Now you had sudden recollections of Spencer also being there, and suddenly your actions made sense.
He'd not only taken your panties, he'd taken your used panties, and it looked as though he'd used them even more. You decided not to think too closely about how he had used them.
But he'd also got you home safe, making sure your things were stored neatly and tucked you into bed nice and tight. And then he'd stolen your panties.
Thinking about it was frustrating but there was nothing else in your mind at that moment. Spencer taking them out secretly to look at. Spencer smelling them. Spencer wrapping them around his big cock and stroking himself to the thought of you.
You wanted to know precisely what he'd done, and you intended to find out.
Penelope called you as soon as they'd left work, and sent you the location, too, and you decided it was time to get ready to mess with Spencer.
The dress you'd worn on the night he'd stolen your panties was freshly laundered. Usually, you wouldn't wear anything so risky in front of your father, but he'd likely only be there for an hour or two before leaving you be. You pulled out a fresh pair of red panties as well, hoping to jog Spencer's memory a little bit to entice him to talk.
With a quick make-up retouch, you climbed into your car, and within twenty minutes you were walking into O'Keefe's.
Miserably, Spencer couldn't come up with an excuse to stay home quick enough and was tumbled into the car by Derek and Penelope. He had a feeling, too, that he wouldn't be able to leave early, either, which was only confirmed when you walked in wearing that dress.
His hopes to sit and nurse his non-alcoholic cocktail peacefully at the edge of the booth are shattered as he watches you saunter over. It clings tight to your skin, twisting around every peak on your body, revealing every part that he'd spent the last few weeks dreaming about.
He was screwed.
"Hi, Dad! Hi everyone!" You smiled innocently enough, but your sickly sweet smile turned on Spencer was an omen, and he suddenly wanted to be down on his knees begging for forgiveness. Or something else.
Instead of sticking by your dad's side, you make your way to Spencer and force him to shuffle further into the booth so you can sit next to him. It's cramped and you're on the edge still, so you let your hand rest on his thigh for a beat too long as you join the conversation.
"What did I miss?"
"Just talking about the craziest things that have happened to us on cases."
"Reid was propositioned by a prostitute once," Derek chuckled.
"Please, Reid has been propositioned by multiple prostitutes, multiple times." Penelope and Derek continued to joke and giggle about the younger man's apparent cluelessness to flirting.
"I guess they just assumed you were a pervert, Spence. I wonder why they'd think that?" His eyes shot wide as you snuck your hand into his pocket under the table, watching to see if anyone else had noticed the bold actions.
But you looked away from him quickly and didn't let your hand spend too long there, sliding it out slowly, feeling up his leg as you went. He took another sip of his drink before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His cock had been rudely awoken, and he didn't want it to stay awake, so he attempted to let it fall into a less obvious position.
But as he shifted he felt something else in his pants, and curiously he put his own hand into his pocket. You'd returned your stolen underwear to the thief.
He took in a shaky breath and held them inside his pants while he willed himself to calm down. Partly because you were in public and partly because your dad was present. He almost had himself under control when you decided it was time for your next move.
"I need to go get a drink, I'll be back soon." You stood and pushed away from the table, bouncing away swiftly. He watched you go from the corner of his eye and then had to do a double take as you pushed yourself up against the bar ordering your drink.
You stuck your ass out, not enough to make it look intentional to anybody but him, but just enough so he could see the red underwear you had on underneath your dress.
He downed his drink and made his excuses before making his way right to the bar where you stood.
"What are you doing?" He demanded, so close behind you that you felt his breath in you before you heard his voice.
"Buying a drink, what does it look like I'm doing?" You scooted your ass back until it was pressed up against his crotch and he groaned, hard and loud in your ear.
"Y/N, you can't do that, your dad is right fucking there."
"I sure hope my dad isn't fucking over there, that'd really be a sight I didn't want to see." He shut his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before he put his hands on you. Grabbing your hips, he walked you closer to the bar so that your ass was no longer on display, nor touching him in any way, then he moved to your side and left only one hand firmly touching your back so you knew not to immediately try something else again.
"This is your last warning. Now, you're going to order that drink and then you're going to walk back to that table like a good fucking girl, or so help me god, I will show your dad just how much of a slut you're being." His voice was a dark growl and you felt your panties growing more wet with each syllable, nodding instantly as the bartender came over.
For a minute, he'd genuinely thought that had worked. You'd ordered your drink without another word and then turned back to the table and walked nicely, having pulled your skirt back down a little bit. He'd thought he'd won until the second he'd sat down when Aaron Hotchner had grabbed his coat and stood up.
"Spencer, you're not drinking? Can you drive Y/N home tonight? I’m leaving now, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to leave so early.” You watched as his jaw twitched, taking only a second to compose himself before he agreed.
“Great, have a fun night sweetheart,” he said, kissing your head, before turning out and leaving with Rossi.
“Now, Spencer, what was that you were saying about good behavior at the bar? It was really so very interesting to me and I’d love to hear more.”
You spent the next half hour draining your drink and his self-control, stroking a hand down his chest as the others comfortably ignored your purring at him. He answered all your questions coldly, but every time your hand trailed a little bit too low he stopped it with a heavy hand and a warning look, letting you know that you were still getting to him.
Once you’d finished the first drink, you got up and moved to the bar once again, making sure that his eyes were on you completely as you swayed your hips on the way over. You pulled exactly the same move as you had earlier and made sure he knew you were going to be hard to handle the entire night.
When you returned, he was the only one left at the table, the others having scattered to the dance floor, the bathroom, and the bar. Taking the chance you climb directly into his lap.
“What’s wrong, Spence, you’re looking so lonely over here?” You rest your hands on his shoulders and let your ass fall to his lap, grinding down gently to feel him underneath you.
“How could I be lonely when you’re out here throwing yourself at me like a cheap whore?”
“Oh, we’ve already established how much cheap whores love you today, Spencer. Why would you be so surprised that I’m having the same reaction?”
The others slowly started returning so you pushed away from him for a second, straightening your clothes before they noticed anything amiss.
“Y/N, I need some youthful arm candy, come to the dancefloor with us!” Penelope pulled you from your seat and you laughed as you followed her, sending a wink back over your shoulder to Spencer.
He sat grinding his teeth as you continue your games on the dancefloor, swaying your hips suggestively, not sparing him a single glance as you practically exposed yourself on a dancefloor. He decided he’d let you have your fun and then march you out quickly. He moved his timeline up exponentially the minute he saw a man saunter up behind you, whispering in your ear before walking you over to the bar.
Downing his drink, he made his way to your side, pulling you away from the man quickly.
“We’re leaving now.” He said, leaning down to your ear as he grabbed your coat and pulled it around you.
“Man, what do you think you’re doing?” The man who had pulled you away was visually drunk, looking rough and dangerous as he leered down at you.
“She’s not interested and she’s too young for you anyway.” He said, very close to flashing his badge to get him to back off.
“What, you her dad or something?” He scoffed, but you turned on him with a wide smile as you leaned your head back against Spencer’s chest.
“He’s my daddy, actually.” With a wink, you left the bar, letting Spencer chase after you as you walked directly over to your car. Throwing him the keys, you jumped into the passenger seat.
“I’m taking you home now, you’re being reckless, you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Reckless how? It’s not like I’m the one who has been stealing my boss' daughter's panties for the last month.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You jacked off into my panties and now you’re pissed I caught you…wow.”
“Can you just shut up? I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like me to tell him how you put them back in my pocket tonight, right?”
“Was that a threat, Spencer?”
“If I was going to threaten you, Y/N, you’d know.”
“You’ve changed, you know. Since I was a teenager. You’re different now.”
“No, I’m not. I’m very much the same.”
“You’re hotter now. I don’t know how that is possible because fuck did I want you back then, but now…” You let your eyes trail down his face as he continues to drive, jaw tense. His side profile had always been pretty, but with the bags under his eyes now more pronounced, you thought about what it’d be like to trail your mouth down his neck, what you would give to sit prettily on those lips of his.
Your tongue darts out to wet your own lips, as the fantasies grow to fill the car. Suddenly it’s his hands between your legs, making you moan like the whore he’d accused you of being earlier, it’s his tongue down your throat as he fucks his fingers into you, completely ruining you.
When you pull over, you’re certain that he’d heard your thoughts, because you didn’t recognize where you were at all.
“Spencer, this isn’t my dad’s house.”
“No, it’s mine. Get out of the car.” Suddenly obedient, you do exactly as he tells you, jumping out of the car as swiftly as you can and letting him march you up the stairs, right through his door and all the way to his bedroom. He pushes you forward gently but with a firm enough hand that you know he wants you on the bed. He doesn’t touch you any further as you prop yourself up on your elbows, but moves to another part of the room, grabbing something from a drawer before throwing it at you. Throwing them at you, you supposed, because when you looked down, you found your other pairs of missing underwear on your lap.
“I’m sorry for being so fucking dirty and disgusting, but you need to stop saying those things to me before I do something we both regret.”
You don’t reply, sitting and breathing heavily for a second before pushing your body further up the bed and reaching down. His eyes drink you in as he watches you hook two fingers underneath the underwear you’re wearing and drag them down your legs, not caring that he can see everything. You let go of them as soon as they’re hanging off your leg, holding them out to him.
“Peace offering?”
He’s on you in an instant, crawling on top of you so he can shut you up with his mouth, his hands, his whole being. You welcome him greedily, letting him take control as he pins your hips down underneath his.
“Little slut, you want me to fuck you so bad?” He says, a hand at your chest, pinching your nipple hard through your dress as you moan and writh underneath him. “Throwing yourself at your father’s friend like this, huh? Must be a little whore.”
He doesn’t let you respond, shoving two fingers into your mouth as you obediently wrap your lips around them and start sucking. Pushing your dress up, he groans at how wet you already are for him, swiping a finger over your clit carefully as you moan around his fingers, the vibrations shooting straight to his cock.
Lifting his hips, he unzips his pants in a second, not stopping to contemplate the consequences of his actions. His cock is pressed against you, gripped in his hand, but it’s hot and it’s heavy and fuck do you need it inside of you. He teases you with it as you whine around his fingers, trying to top from the bottom and grinding your hips up into him. He removes his fingers from your mouth reluctantly so he can hold your hips down.
“Spencer, don’t fucking tease me. Please just fuck me now.”
“Are all of you Hotchner’s this fucking bossy?” You roll your eyes, ignoring his question as you move to grab ahold of his cock, lining it up with your cunt and pushing it in slowly. A hand over yours stops you before it can get any deeper.
“Wait, I haven’t put a condom on yet.”
“Then you better make sure you pull out before I have to tell my dad exactly who it is that made him a grandaddy.” His hips snap up into yours then and with a few shallow pumps he’s fully sheathed inside of you as you scream at the feeling. You’d spent years thinking about this moment, but you’d never imagined he’d fill you so perfectly, stretching you out in all the best places.
His fingers return to your clit, working you up into a frenzy as you arch up into him, wrapping your legs around him to allow him better access. He growls into your ear with each thrust, before grabbing fistfuls of your ass and dragging you to the edge of the bed.
He pulls out quickly, repositioning you and holding your legs open wide as he stands between your legs, lining his cock up and pushing into you once again, immediately regaining his pace. He lifts one knee onto the bed, again pushing your legs down into the bed and opening you up further to him. The new angle hits deeper inside of you than you were sure anyone had ever been, momentarily leaving you breathless and soundless, listening only to the noises coming from your cunt.
Wet slaps of skin against skin, the arousal trickling down your leg to stain his sheets.
You regain your breath just as he knocks it out of you again, pushing you over the edge as you cum, hard, on his cock. Your head goes dizzy as you struggle to come down from the bliss he’d pulled you up into, legs twitching as he continues pounding into him.
You’re vaguely aware of some loud moans and screams, and it takes you an entire minute to realize the sinful noises are coming straight from your mouth.
“Fuck, Spencer, so fucking good for me, you made me feel so good, thank you.” His hips stutter inside you then, and you feel a heat flood you.
“Shit,” he pulls out quickly and sprays the rest of his load over your pretty black dress, falling down on top of you and reclaiming your lips passionately. You stay locked together in that embrace for god knows how long, rolling around back and forth in his bed until he finally detaches himself, pulling your clothes off and throwing a large old t-shirt over your head before grabbing you like an oversized stuffed toy and leading you into the depths of oblivion.
When you wake up in the morning, the pounding in your head is exaggerated considering you hadn’t really drank that much the night before. It takes you a shocking amount of time to realize that the pounding wasn’t in your head though, but instead a loud banging against Spencer’s door, ordering him to open up
You’re so comfortable though, you try to ignore it. Until your father’s voice is pouring through the paper-thin walls.
“Spencer, open the door, right now, or I’m kicking it down. You have five seconds.” The Spencer in question shoots out of bed immediately from beside you, scrambling to pull on pants and make his hair look like you hadn’t been tangled in it all night before running to the door.
You similarly panic around the room for a second, searching for a hiding place and grabbing your phone before settling on the absolutely genius position of under the bed.
You hear the confrontation like it’s happening right over you.
“Aaron, I really think you’re going to regret this.” David Rossi’s voice is calm, trying to talk some sense into your father, but he isn’t having any of it.
“Where is she? I told you to drop her off at home when she was finished drinking, but she wasn’t there when I woke up.”
“I can explain…” Spencer trailed off, and you cursed the man for being such a bad liar. That line hadn’t worked on you, either, so you doubted it’d work on your dad. Opening your phone, you check the time. 11:47. You quietly cursed yourself as you opened the multiple messages from your father.
You decide to help Spencer out by replying to one of them now.
“Hey, Dad. I ran into an old friend last night, and Spencer made sure we both got back to her’s safely. I’m still at her apartment, but I guess I forgot to text last night because I was so tired, sorry for worrying you!”
You heard his phone ping with the message, heard the tense silence as he read the message slowly, and heard the incredibly loud ping of your own phone, screaming from inside Spencer’s room as he replied.
Unfortunately, your dad hears it, too.
Pushing past Spencer, who in his defense is doing a great job of taking a stand by slowing down your father momentarily, Aaron Hotchner bursts into the room just as you poke your head up from the side of the bed.
“Morning, Daddy.” You try, hoping to sweet talk your way out of this whole situation.
“Living room, now.” He says, hesitating for only a moment. “You’re dressed, right?” You almost laugh at his pathetic tone before considering the situation, just nodding and walking out behind him as you try to make Spencer’s shirt cover more of your body than it originally did.
There’s a gleam in Rossi’s eye as you walk past him, head hung in embarrassment. You sit guiltily on the couch, and Spencer finds his way next to you, and you suddenly feel like two children about to get the scolding of a lifetime.
“What were you thinking?” He demands, and you grow suddenly angry at the indignant tone of his voice.
“Dad, I am 23 years old, I do not need a lecture for spending the night out.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, sit down. Spencer? Anything to say.” You slump back into your seat and wait for the answer just the same as your dad is, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, you feel a blanket being thrown over your legs, and it isn’t until then that you notice how cold you’ve been. He takes the time to wrap the material around your body, making sure you’re comfortable before he even thinks about looking up at your dad.
“Hotch, what is it that you want to know?” He levels his stare with your father, and it seems to dampen his anger a little bit. They’re having a silent war right now, in some kind of expressive language that you’ve never been able to decode, and somehow, it seems that Spencer is winning.
“Did you use protection?” Your sharp intake of breath is about all the answers your father needs, and you realize how majorly you’d fucked up by letting the conversation get this far.
“Dad!” you shout indignantly. “That is frankly none of your business.” He doesn’t look at you though, not even sparing you a glance as his eyes stay focused on Spencer, trying to figure out something you’re not even sure of yourself.
“For god’s sake, Dad, I’ve been in love with him for five years.” All the eyes in the room snap to you then, and if you hadn’t been feeling shy before, you certainly were now.
“Y/N, you’re barely an adult.”
“I’m sorry that’s entirely rich coming from the guy who had a child straight out of high school. I’m an adult, which is why I’m allowed to make my own mistakes and decisions, and I’d really prefer your support instead of your judgment.” Your father tries to speak again, to protest some part of what you just said, but unlistening, you groan in frustration and just climb directly into Spencer’s lap.
“I’m not going anywhere.��� Spencer panics below you for a second, before resting comfortably on your legs, far enough down that he is spared your father’s dirty looks.
“Aaron, I think you’d better hear the girl out. She reminds me a lot of someone I know, so hard-headed these youths of today are.” You are intensely thankful for Rossi’s presence then and you send a thankful smile his way, just as your dad grumbles.
“Uncle David is right, you should listen to Uncle David.”
“Until a few days ago, you were calling Spencer “Uncle Spencer” so I’d be quiet if I were you, Y/N.”
“Heard.” He pauses for a second to think, the years finally etching into his skin as he breathes out a sigh of relief. You suddenly feel bad for not being home when he woke up, and you can only imagine how it must’ve felt to not know where you were, or if you were safe after everything that he’d already been through.
“I’m not against this, I suppose. But I swear to god if you ever go missing on me again, I will have an entire agency out for you.”
“You know where I’ll be, Dad.” He nods then turns to Spencer.
“You’re going to take her to a pharmacy in the next three hours to get emergency contraception, and then the both of you are going to come - fully clothed - to my house. It’s been a while since we had a family dinner.” You smile brightly up at him, and within another minute, it is just you and Spencer in the apartment alone.
You looked back up at him shyly and tried to awkwardly climb out of his lap, but he pulled you right back into him.
“For the record, I think I’ve only been in love with you for 37 days. Is that okay with you?” All of the confidence drains from your body as you struggle to find the words.
“In my defense, it’s not that I didn’t love you back then, it’s just that you were so young, I think I never considered it. And when I realized that you had those feelings, I felt so guilty about it, I never stopped to let myself think about what else I was feeling. And then you were gone and I didn’t have to think about it again, and then you came back, and I’ve been doing a lot more thinking now, and I think that-”
“I think that you should shut up and kiss me, Spencer Reid.” You said.
“Heard.” You giggled as he pressed his lips up into your own, pulling you further down into him as he held you tight. You didn’t come up for air for a long while, drinking as much of him in as you could as he gave you his heart.
“You know what this means?” You said, finally pulling away with a gasp.
“What?”
“You don’t have to steal my panties anymore. I can just give them to you now.” He lit up red underneath you and groaned as you laughed at his pained expression.
“As long as you never mention that to your father, I think we’ll escape this job and lives intact.” He said, a faraway look telling you he was likely running probability on those ideas right at that second.
“Just remember, my dad has two weapons and the ability to move you halfway across the country should he choose to.” You pressed your forehead against his, chuckling once again at his pained expression. “But also remember, that I’d happily follow you anywhere, Reid.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Hotchner. Oh, no, that was weird. We’re going to have to get you a new name sooner rather than later.” You gasped as he lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you back to the bedroom.
“Spencer! What are you doing?”
“We need to go brainstorm some new names, too weird to call you Hotchner. And I do all of my best thinking in bed.”
“Really? I do mine in the shower,” you teased, holding tight to his shoulders as he continued forward.
“We can definitely try that next.” He said, carrying you through the door, and closing it shut behind him, hoarding your attentions for the rest of the morning.
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Just Ten Minutes
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Summary: Spencer needs a cuddle after getting home from a rough case
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Comfort
Word count: 588
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Spencer finally got home after a long jet ride. The case was grueling but successful. He dumps his satchel on the nearby chair. He spots you immediately on the couch, reading a book while wearing one of his old sweatshirts. You loved this sweatshirt the most because it was long enough to not wear pants. Spencer liked it for that reason too, but he was too tired to do anything beyond admiration. He smiled when you looked up at him. “Welcome back.” You say. His hand is on your shoulder and you rub his arm. He’s warm.
“Good to be back.” He glances down at the book you’re reading. “George R. R. Martin?”
“It was on your shelf, so I figured why not?”
“You mind taking a break?”
You look up at him and before he says anything else, he’s moving to the other side of the couch. He sits in the middle, putting your right leg in his lap. You put the book down and see. “Was it a rough case?”
Spencer nods, looking down at his hands.
“We can go to bed, so you’ll be more comfortable.”
Spencer shakes his head, pushing his shoes off by the heels and letting them thump on the floor. He crawls across your body and lays his head on your chest. The weight is pleasant, and you never miss an opportunity to play with his hair. So you put the book on the floor, and he doesn’t protest. George R. R. Martin has never been a favorite. You place it flat to bookmark where you left off. You settle into the couch arm. Spencer wraps his arms around you, occupying the open space between your back and the couch. You pull your legs up to encase him, wrapping him in warmth. He exhales. “You smell good.”
“Thank you.” You say. “Is it wrong to say I used your shower while you were gone?”
He shrugs. “No. Wish I was here for it.”
You scoff, pulling on a piece of hair as punishment, but he knows he’s not in trouble. Spencer looks up, his chin on your sternum, and pushes his lips out with his eyes half open. You push your head down as best you can to kiss him. It’s a light peck, but he accepts it happily. “You sure you don’t want to go to bed?” You rub his back with your other hand.
He rests his head on your chest again. “Can we just stay here a little?" He sounded quiet, weak. You didn’t want to ask about the case but you know it hit closer to home than he liked. That’s when he gets like this, so you don’t ask further. “I won’t fall asleep, I promise.”
“You can if you want to.” You say, brushing strands of hair from his face. “I don’t mind.”
“No, last time I got a terrible crick in my neck. Just ten minutes, okay?” You huff some air out of your nose and kiss his scalp. “You might end up hurting yourself first if you keep doing that.”
“You want me to stop?”
“Absolutely not.” He shuffles up a little to make it easier to reach. You tighten your legs around him, only a little, but enough to leave zero room between your bodies. Spencer burrows further into his favorite spot.
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in-another-april · 1 month
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i have typed the word kiss so many times this past week, I Am Tired. this is cringe but i dont care! i am free! ALSO @spencereidapologist this is for you!!!
Soo, in this post I talked about the different types of kisses Spencer gives you AND NOW. It’s time for Spencer + different types of kisses you give him!! Because he deserves all the kisses!!
Cheek kisses! One of his biggest weaknesses, I swear. He gets so blushy and giggly and flustered, it’s one of the quickest ways to cheer him up. When he’s feeling insecure, kiss him all over and tell him how much you love him between each one. He completely loses it. No thoughts, head empty. That is all.
Then there’s lip kisses! Specifically pecks, when he’s being all cute and you can’t resist the urge to smooch. Especially when he’s making that silly little :| (You know the one I’m talking about.) OR anytime he has that pout and you just have to kiss it off of him and replace it with a smile OR... yeah, pretty much just any face he makes.
I know I talked about forehead kisses before but they’re just so Spencer I can’t help it. He refuses to go to sleep without receiving his goodnight forehead kiss, leaning his head towards you until you get the hint. When do you, he lets out this little sleepy hum and closes his eyes, it is Adorable ;-;
He loves when you kiss between his eyebrows when he has a minor headache, it makes him feel so much better (he has no idea how, and you just insist you’ve got the magic touch.) Sometimes he gets stressed, deep in thought with his eyebrows all furrowed and scrunched up; you can just give him a kiss to reset his mind and calm him down.
masterlist | inbox ← requests open! ♡
taglist - @lover-of-books-and-tea @maskysluvr @aurorsworld @wisteriaspencer @radioactiveinvisible @mandarinmoons @spencereidapologist @lyd14k4y @luvkatryna (send an ask or message to be added/removed!)
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incognit0slut · 5 months
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Right Kind of Wrong (18)
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She never thought she’d 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.
Part Summary: Spencer and Y/n resolve their feelings. wc: 3k A/n: You have no idea how happy I am being able to write fluff after seventeen parts. SEVENTEEN. Only happiness from now on (which isn't much because sadly there are two parts left)
Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17
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THE FIRST THING she became aware of was the constant noise ringing in her ears. The soft hum of the room greeted her as she slowly drifted into consciousness. Feeling slightly disoriented, she blinked her eyes open, adjusting to the muted light filtering through the half-closed curtains as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings.
Hospital. She was in a hospital. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air as a sudden wave of panic threatened to engulf her, but then a gentle, calm voice cut through her confusion. Her gaze shifted to the side, and relief washed over her as she spotted Spencer sitting on a nearby chair, engrossed in the book he was holding.
For a moment, she observed him—the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the strands of hair that fell across his forehead, and the intensity in his eyes as they traced the words. His soft-spoken tone was soothing, and after a moment of listening to him, she realized he was reading the book aloud for her.
"...and with that, Sherlock Holmes deduced the mystery, much to the amazement of Dr. Watson," his voice filled the room, and she couldn't help but smile faintly at the choice of literature. She shifted in the bed, and the quiet rustle of sheets prompted him to look up from his book.
"Hey," he greeted softly, placing the book on the bedside table. "You're awake."
She responded with a nod, accompanied by a small, appreciative smile. "Sherlock Holmes, huh?"
"I found a copy in the waiting room. Someone must've left it," he explained. "Thought I'd borrow it before giving it to Lost and Found."
Her gaze lingered on the tired lines across his features. "And you decided to read when you could have slept?"
"I wanted to be here when you woke up again."
A soft smile adorned her face but her brows twisted into a frown as she registered his words. "Again?"
"You've been in and out of consciousness." He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. "The doctor said it's common among patients suffering from dehydration."
Her frown deepened, and the weight of the situation began to sink in as she processed his words. Her fingers unconsciously traced the edge of the thin hospital blanket for comfort.
"Is Eric..."
"He's injured, although not fatally. My shot wasn't aimed for anywhere vital," he explained, shifting his chair closer. "But he's in custody. You're safe now."
Relief washed over her, but a flicker of fear remained in her eyes. "I don't remember much after what happened."
"That's understandable," he said gently. "Your body and mind went through a lot. It might take some time to process everything."
She managed a weak nod and her eyes traced the outlines of the IV line snaking into her arm. "How long have I been here?"
Spencer glanced at the clock on the wall, his brows furrowing slightly. "About a day."
"A day," she repeated, the concept feeling both distant and immediate. The realization settled in and a pause hung in the air before her gaze shifted to him again, seeking clarification. "As in twenty-four hours?"
His face twisted into a frown, uncertainty clouding his features. "...yes?" he replied, unsure where she was going with this.
"And I've been sleeping for most of the time?"
"Well... yes."
"And you? How much have you slept?" When she was met with silence, her expression softened as her eyes took in his weariness. "Why are you still awake, Spencer?"
He sighed, a conflicted expression crossing his face. "I just... I didn't want to leave your side."
She studied him, her eyes tracing the lines of exhaustion that clung to his face. Deep lines etched across his forehead and the shadows underneath his eyes spoke volumes about everything he endured. The fading bruises, the slouch in his shoulders, and the tousled strands of his hair all painted a picture of someone who had weathered more than their fair share.
It was evident that even the hospital room had taken its toll on him, and the subtle change into a fresh shirt was his small attempt to regain a pretense of normalcy. But who was she to judge? Here she was, lying on the bed, all weak and worn out. She couldn't deny that she, too, must be presenting a less-than-picture-perfect image.
With a gentle sigh, Spencer eased into the chair beside her bed. "How are you feeling?"
She took a moment, assessing the sensations in her weakened body. The dull ache in her limbs, the lingering throbbing in her head.
"Like I've been hit by a truck," she finally responded with a smile, trying to ease the tension. But his head suddenly seemed to be elsewhere. He absentmindedly nodded, and it was clear to her that something was on his mind.
"Hey," she spoke softly. "What's wrong?"
He looked up, meeting her eyes, and she waited for his response. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and finally found the courage to speak.
"I'm sorry."
Confusion clouded her eyes. "For what?"
"For... everything." He let out a sigh. "For hurting you, for not being there when you needed help, for not realizing what was happening sooner. For not seeing the signs."
She shook her head. "You can't blame yourself. You were there when it mattered, and you saved me."
"But I should've protected you from the start," he insisted, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "I should've stayed with you—"
"It's not your fault. Don't apologize for something that he did."
"But I could've prevented it from happening if I didn't leave your house in the first place."
She studied him for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Look, if you're going to keep on apologizing, might as well do it in comfort." She shifted over on the bed, making room between them. "Come here."
His gaze flickered between her and the mattress. "I'm not sure that's allowed."
"What? Do hospitals have a policy against sharing a bed with visitors?"
"Well, technically—"
"Spencer," she interjected. "Just lie down with me. Please."
He hesitated for a moment, but after a brief internal debate, he relented, deciding that being close to her trumped any hospital regulations. Slowly, he settled onto the bed, careful not to disturb any wires or machines. But then she suddenly sat up and Spencer frowned. "Wait, where are you going?"
"Outstretch your arm."
"What?"
"Outstretch your arm," she repeated.
He followed her instructions, and she laid back down, resting on his arm. As she nestled against his side, he couldn't ignore the warmth that spread through him. He simply looked at her, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement when she kept pressing herself against him. His hand instinctively fell on her waist. "What exactly are you up to?"
"Testing a theory. I read somewhere that lying on someone's arm can regulate their heartbeat and help with stress. And given your guilt-ridden apology, it seems you could use a bit of stress relief." She then settled a hand over his chest. "But it doesn't seem like it's working, your heart is beating really fast."
He felt a blush creeping up his cheeks as her fingers traced gentle circles over his chest, the warmth of her touch sending ripples through him. "Well, you're lying unexpectedly close to me, I wasn't exactly prepared for that."
She laughed softly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "Just... try to relax. You've been through a lot too. You don't have to hold yourself together for my sake."
He slowly nodded, letting himself sink into the moment with her. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest against his side, the gentle pressure of her hand over his heart. But guilt still rippled through him when he studied the weariness in her eyes, or the IV line sticking into her arm, or the bandage wrapped around her hand. He hated seeing her so weak that he couldn't help but blurt out another apology.
"I really am sorry."
She shifted slightly, turning to look at him. "I know you are."
"I wish I could have done more to protect you," he continued.
She reached up, tenderly brushing a strand of hair from his face. "You did what you could with the information you had. No one could have expected what happened."
He sighed, and she continued to trace gentle lines across his face as they fell into a comfortable silence. But much to her dismay, it didn't last long when he suddenly interrupted their moment. "I... I have another apology."
She was the one who let out a sigh this time. "What is it now?"
"I..." he hesitated, searching for the right words as his eyes wandered around every corner of the room but on her. "I-I want to apologize for being rough on you that day when we... when we—you know."
She raised an eyebrow, amused at where this conversation was heading. "You mean when we had sex?"
He nodded and diverted his gaze away from her, looking slightly embarrassed. She laughed and cupped his face, forcing him to look back in her direction. "Why are you suddenly so embarrassed?"
His cheeks flushed a shade of pink as he met her gaze. "I'm not used to discussing these things so openly, especially when I feel like I mishandled the situation."
Her laughter softened into a warm smile. "Spencer, we were both in a difficult place that day, I wouldn't say you mishandled anything." She leveled her gaze on him. "I trusted you. I knew you weren't going to hurt me, which you didn't, and I can assure you that I enjoyed the sex very, very much."
"But I-I tied you," he insisted. "I used handcuffs on you. Handcuffs."
"Well, did it ever occur to you that I liked being tied? That I like it when you're in control?"
He studied her, and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he fully registered she was being serious. "You do?"
She chuckled at his wide-eyed expression. "Yes, Spencer, I do. I thought it was very obvious." She gave him a smile, fingers tracing soothing patterns on his cheek. "But if it makes you feel any better, we can come up with a safe word."
"What's a safe word?"
His brows furrowed in confusion, prompting her to burst into laughter. She couldn't help but find his innocence endearing.
"It's something you say to stop or slow down during sex, especially if things get uncomfortable or overwhelming," she explained, her laughter subsiding.
"Oh," Spencer said, a hint of realization dawning on his face. "That makes sense."
She nodded, still smiling. "So the next time we explore our sexual needs, we can use our safe word."
There was a pause before he murmured, "Next time?"
Her smile faltered at his question. "Do you not want a next time?"
Noticing her sudden withdrawal, he placed a hand behind her, pulling her closer to him. "I want there to be a next time," he confirmed and sighed in relief when he felt her relaxing again. "You know, I just want to spend more time with you in general."
Her smile returned, warmed by the sincerity in his words. "Yeah?"
He nodded. "I want to take you to dinner."
"Dinner sounds lovely."
"And take you out on a date."
Her smile widened. "What kind of date do you have in mind?"
"Well, I was thinking of the museum. Or maybe the library." Then his eyes lit up with a hint of excitement. "There's also this planetarium I've always wanted to visit. Did you know that the planetarium nearby has one of the most advanced digital projection systems? It's supposedly a state-of-the-art projector that can simulate the night sky with incredible accuracy."
A genuine smile graced her lips. The excitement in his voice brought a sense of relief to her. It wasn't just a reaction to his enthusiasm about their planned date, but also the subtle transformation in his demeanor. He seemed more relaxed.
"That sounds amazing." And just because she couldn't stop herself from flustering him, she added, "But the real question is, will there be sex in this future date?"
Spencer's reaction was immediate, his face flushing with embarrassment. "Stop teasing me."
"I'm serious," she laughed, thoroughly enjoying his momentary discomfort. "I want to know what I'll be expecting."
He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "I guess... If you want to, then yes."
"Of course, I do, but I want to hear it from you." She grinned when he gave her a pointed look. "Spencer, you've given me more orgasms than I can count, why is it so hard for you to say the word sex?"
Spencer shook his head, attempting to brush off the embarrassment that lingered. "You're unbelievable." 
Despite his attempt to resist, there was a subtle twinkle in his eyes that betrayed the amusement he couldn't fully conceal. A reluctant smile stretched across his lips, and he finally conceded, "Yes, Y/n, we will have sexual intercourse in the future."
She laughed, the sound echoing in the room. "How romantic."
Her teasing expression softened into a warm smile, and Spencer couldn't help but be captivated by the warmth in her eyes. Feeling a surge of affection, he gently pulled her closer. There was a subtle shift in the air. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, she nestled into his embrace. But it was hard to fully linger in his arms when her IV line seemed to be getting in their way.
"Hold on, I think I have to turn around," she said, her fingers tracing the thin tubing connected to the IV. Spencer released his hold. "I should probably get off the bed."
"Don't you dare," she threatened, and turned to the other direction gracefully, adjusting herself without much difficulty. Once settled, she pressed her back against his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her again.
"Better?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.
She nodded, a contented smile on her face. "So much better."
Spencer held her a little tighter, and somehow, his hand found its way to hers, softly intertwining their fingers. He held on to her as if he didn't want to let go, as if the simple act of holding her hand offered a sense of grounding in the aftermath of everything that had happened. And with a contented sigh, she leaned back into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. She reveled in the moment because life had taken them through twists and turns, and yet, here they were—finding solace in each other's company. The warmth of his hold enveloped her like a protective shield, and for a fleeting moment, the worries that had weighed on her seemed to dissipate.
Gratitude swelled within her—a deep, heartfelt acknowledgment of this moment, of being alive, and of the shared embrace that grounded her to the present. 
"Hey, Spence?"
"Hmm?"
Her fingers gently traced over his hand, still intertwined with hers, savoring the connection that seemed to defy the odds. "Thank you for staying with me."
She felt a reassuring squeeze from his hand.
"I'm here for as long as you need me."
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"Don't you think this is a little too much?"
Garcia threw Morgan a glare as they walked down the hospital corridor, her heels echoing in the narrowed space. Her eyes then shifted to the balloons in her hand, the container of freshly baked cookies she made in the other hand, and the bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers dangling from Morgan's arms.
"She deserves a warm welcome after what she's been through," she countered. "And it's my first time meeting her in person, I can't come empty-handed. That's so unlike me."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, sure, but we're just visiting. It's not a party."
Garcia huffed. "I believe in spreading happiness wherever I go. And besides, who wouldn't want flowers, balloons, and delicious cookies after being stuck in a hospital bed?" She looked over to the rows of the door down the hallway. "What room did Reid say she was in?"
Morgan glanced down the corridor lined with identical-looking doors. "Room 108."
Garcia led the way, her heels clicking purposefully as she cradled the balloons and cookies with a determined air. Morgan followed, still holding the bouquet, and couldn't help but shake his head at Garcia's unwavering commitment. As they approached the door, she paused to adjust her cookies and then knocked lightly on the door, only to be met with silence.
She turned to Morgan. "Do you think she's asleep?"
"I don't know." He pulled out his phone and tried to dial Spencer's number, only to be met with a constant line of ringing. "He's not answering."
"I think we should just go in."
Morgan hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement. Garcia took a deep breath and gently pushed the door open, stepping inside. The room beyond was dimly lit, with the curtains drawn, followed by the soft hum of medical equipment filling the air. It seemed like an ordinary hospital room, but what seemed out of place was the sight before them.
Because Spencer lay on the bed with her, both peacefully sleeping.
"Oh my god," Garcia gushed, stepping further into the room. “Oh my god.”
Morgan couldn't help but wear a surprised smile. "Well, that explains why he wasn't answering his phone."
Garcia carefully placed the balloons at the foot of the bed and Morgan followed behind her, setting the bouquet on the bedside table. She then motioned for him to place the container of cookies there as well before she held her hands together, watching the scene before them. "This is like a scene straight out of a romance movie."
Unable to contain her excitement, she took out her phone and snapped a discreet photo of them. Morgan shot her a disapproving look, but she just waved her hand dismissively and whispered, "It's for the memories."
"Come on," he insisted, grabbing onto her arm. "Let's leave these two to rest."
"One more picture!"
Garcia's voice echoed in the room, and Spencer stirred in his sleep. Morgan and Garcia stilled for a moment, holding their breath. They waited for another second, and thankfully, the couple seemed to be too deep in slumber to hear the commotion in the room.
Morgan gave Garcia a pointed look. "That's enough, Garcia. Let's go."
"Give me a minute,” she lingered. “Let me take one last video."
Morgan shook his head. He took her phone out of her grasp, ignoring her protest, and finally dragged her out of the room—leaving the two lovebirds behind.
>> NEXT PART
a/n: that last scene is kind of a bonus, I just thought it was cute
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plutoispurplw · 24 days
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Fresh Out The Slammer
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Summary: You're going to see Spencer after he spent three months on the prision.
Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Little angst, mention of prision and murder.
A/N: Hi everyone, guess who is back to write like is running out of time! Someone has to take TTPD away from me, now this is an addiction.
Sorry if this doesn't have to much to do wuth the song and remember, english is not my first language, so please tell me if I have an error.
Plss reblog it and request are open!
Masterlistᝰ.ᐟ
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When Spencer was being held in custody in Mexico, you were anxious, you visited him and he was completely different from who you were accustomed to.
It was like he wasn’t mentally there, he looked like a mess and his mental stability was almost inexistent, you almost broke down when you saw him in that state.
After that visit, he didn’t let you go again to see him, he didn’t want you to see him in that state and was worried about your mental health even if he was worse in that matter.
You felt hurt at that moment but you decided to understand him and didn’t visit him again but you sent him letters, the first few letters he didn't respond to you, after some time he started to respond to your letters.
You have been feeling down all the time, being in your apartment made you feel miserable knowing he wasn't there, it felt lifeless there without his presence.
Your bed that once was your favorite place in the world became the worst place to be without his arms around you holding you and protecting you from all the things that happen out there.
You were cleaning the apartment when your phone started to ring, you took it to check who it was and when you saw his name you let out a scream. You quickly answer the call.
“Spencer, are you okay?” You said immediately when the call started, your voice was full of worry for him.
“Yes, I’m already out and I’m alright, don’t worry angel.” His voice sounded reassuring, even if he wasn’t alright he wouldn’t have told you but something inside you told you to believe him.
That calmed you instantly, knowing he was alright made your mind at peace, and the overthinking in your mind stopped even if it was for a moment.
“I’m going to be there in a couple of hours.” His voice sounded tired, knowing him you know that he hadn’t slept more than two hours or less in those three months
Now you were waiting for him in your apartment, sitting on your couch trying to read a book, but that task seemed impossible right now, your mind was only focused on the clock in the living room, checking it every few minutes.
It felt like the minutes were slowly becoming eternal, your heart was beating like it was going to get out of your chest, and your mind was running through a million thoughts at the same time.
Then you heard the door opening and you ran towards the entrance just like a little kid, when you saw him you just hugged him while tears began to spill from you’re eyes.
“I missed you so much.” You whispered against his neck, your voice breaking with every word you spoke. His hands were rubbing your back in a calming notion.
When you pulled back enough to see his face, you noticed that his face had tears spilling from his beautiful eyes, you removed them with your thumbs while you held his face in your hands.
“You don’t have any idea of how much I thought about you, All those nights, you kept me going. I read every letter you sent.” He pulled you towards him for a kiss. When his lips touched yours it was like being in heaven again.
You pulled away a little and put your head on his chest “I’m sorry that you had to go through all of that.” Your voice was weak and filled with sadness thinking about all the things that he had suffered, you looked to another side.
He pulled away a little and took you by the chin to make you see him, he started to speak again. “Even if I go through all of that, knowing that you were here is enough compensation for all the things that I had suffered in my life.”
You kissed again but with time it was more slowly and gently, the kiss was filled with the love that the two of you had for each other. You were sure that the love would never end between you two.
He was the one who you want to spend the rest of your life with him.
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latenightreadingpdf · 2 months
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Comfort in the Silence - Spencer Reid
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Summary: Spencer Reid returns from a case with a headache. During their movie night, his friend discovers his worsening condition and offers comfort, deepening their bond.
The soft click of the door echoed in the quiet hallway as Spencer Reid stepped out of his apartment, the weight of the recent case evident in his weary posture. His eyes were rimmed with fatigue, and the familiar ache of a headache throbbed at his temples.
Across the hall, you heard the soft sound of Spencer's door closing and quickly made your way to your own door, peering through the peephole. Seeing him, you unlocked and opened your door, greeting him with a soft smile.
"Rough case?" you asked, concern evident in your voice as he made his way into your apartment.
Spencer nodded, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, it was… it was tough."
You gently closed the door behind him, leading him to the familiar comfort of your living room. The two of you had lived in the same apartment building for years and had become close friends. Over time, movie nights had become a cherished tradition, a way to unwind and forget about the stresses of work.
"You look like you could use a distraction," you suggested, heading to your collection of movies.
Spencer managed a weak smile. "That sounds nice."
The two of you settled on the couch, a classic movie playing on the screen. But as the movie progressed, you noticed something was off. Spencer, known for his rapid-fire ramblings about movie trivia and facts, was unusually quiet.
"Hey, you okay?" you asked, glancing over at him.
He hesitated, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."
But you knew better. You'd seen Spencer tired before, but this was different. There was a tension in his eyes, a slight grimace every time his hand went to his temple.
"Spence," you began gently, "you're not your usual chatty self tonight. What's going on?"
He sighed, looking away. "Just a headache, it's nothing."
You weren't convinced. "You don't usually hide it when you're not feeling well. You know you can talk to me about anything."
Spencer hesitated, the weight of the secret pressing down on him. Finally, he spoke, "They've been getting worse lately. The headaches."
Your concern deepened. "Have you seen a doctor about it?"
He shook his head. "No, I've been… I've been trying to ignore it, hoping it would just go away."
You reached out, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Spencer, you need to take care of yourself. You can't keep ignoring this."
He nodded, the vulnerability in his eyes clear. "I know."
You guided him to lie down on the couch, fetching a cold cloth from the kitchen to place on his forehead. As he lay there, you sat beside him, gently stroking his hair in a soothing gesture.
"Try to relax," you whispered. "I'll take care of you."
Spencer closed his eyes, the pain in his head gradually subsiding under your gentle care. He felt a warmth spread through him, not just from the cold cloth on his forehead but from the comforting presence beside him.
As the movie ended, you noticed that Spencer had drifted off to sleep, his breathing even and peaceful. Gently, you shifted, allowing him to lay his head in your lap, providing him with a more comfortable place to rest.
You continued to stroke his hair, the worry for your friend mixing with a newfound realization of just how much he meant to you. The silence of the room was comforting, the only sound being the soft hum of the movie credits playing in the background.
Spencer's trust in you, allowing himself to be vulnerable and cared for, deepened the bond between you. You couldn't help but think of all the times you'd spent together, the laughter, the debates, and the quiet moments like this one.
You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, a silent promise to always be there for him. In that moment, the line between friendship and something more blurred, the depth of your feelings for Spencer becoming undeniable.
As the night wore on, you eventually drifted off to sleep, Spencer's steady breathing and the warmth of his presence lulling you into a peaceful slumber.
In the quiet of the early morning, Spencer awoke, his headache gone and feeling more refreshed than he had in days. He looked up to find you still asleep beside him, a soft smile on your face.
Carefully, he shifted, not wanting to disturb your peaceful rest. As he did, your eyes fluttered open, meeting his with a warmth and understanding that made his heart skip a beat.
"Feeling better?" you asked softly, your voice filled with genuine concern.
He nodded, a grateful smile on his lips. "Much better, thank you."
You smiled back, the connection between you stronger than ever. "Anytime, Spencer."
As the morning light streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over the room, you both knew that this was just the beginning. A new chapter in your relationship was unfolding, one filled with trust, care, and the realization of deeper feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.
The bond between you had always been strong, but now it was evolving, growing into something beautiful and profound. And as you both settled back into the comfortable silence, content in each other's presence, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, supporting and caring for one another every step of the way.
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blue-blvd1949 · 11 months
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Burning Desire
Spencer Reid
Summary: you were in your studio apartment all alone trying so hard to make yourself cum but you got used to Spencer and his hands. Luckily for you Spencer barged in unannounced and saw you struggling so he decided to help <3
Word count: 1384
———
You were in the dim light on your bed desperate for any kind of touch that feels like him. Your hands between your things and fingers slowly entering your soaked cunt for what felt like the hundredth time. You were trying to mimic how he touches you and how much he loves to tease you.
Spencer was so happy getting off the jet after a long case and just head straight towards your apartment and lay on the most comfortable bed he’s been on. With him extremely tired he didn’t think on calling you and tell you he’s coming over.
As he was standing in your front door step he didn’t bother to knock and just used his spare key, because he thought you were going to be asleep as it was 2am and partly because he wanted to surprise you.
The one that ended up surprised was him, the view was something he could never compare it too. You slightly moaning against your pillows with hair sprawled out everywhere. Your face is what got him hard instantly, eyes closed with a mouth gaped and eyebrows arched.
He noticed your cunt glistening on the light and the squelching noises it was making against your fingers.
You didn’t notice he was inside your apartment until you slowly opened your eyes with a look on your face with eagerness and need. Your first reaction when you saw him was to let out a meek cry and try to cover yourself with a blanket next to you.
“Don’t try to hide from me”
“I didn’t know you were coming Spence…” you said lowly looking anywhere but his eyes.
“Keep going” he said getting closer to your bed while sitting on a chair that was in the foot of your bed facing you.
You did as he said and took off the blanket opening your legs wide open for him too see.
“I-It’s so wet Spence… For you” you said trying your bestest at holding eye contact without shying away. Your fingers slowly moved closer and started spreading your cunt showing him how wet he gets you.
“All for me baby?” He said as his hand lingered on top of his dick, slowly he started gripping it and rubbing himself trying to get some type of release just like you.
“Put a finger inside” he said starting to wonder if you’re always like this when he’s away for so long.
Your middle finger once again started to enter your sopping hole, you were trying your hardest to make it go deeper but your fingers just don’t reach like Spencers. Your other hand started rubbing your swollen clit slowly trying not to let out a big cry.
The view in front of you is what you needed to be pushed to the edge. His pants were unzipped with his dick out slowly pumping it up and down.
He couldn’t take seeing you this disheveled anymore practically begging for his touch so he just bothered to loosen his tie and a few buttons before nearing you and getting in between your legs.
You whined loudly because he didn’t let you finish and he heard you loud and clear.
“I know but you look so fucking needy I just need to eat you out right now” he said against your lips as he was kissing you. He started going down and stopped once he reached your thighs opening them once again and propping his head right against your cunt.
“Spence…” you said looking down at him running your fingers through his hair as he was pulling your panties to the side.
“Yeah baby?” he said looking back at you with his big doe eyes that always fooled you.
“Be gentle please, I’m really sensitive today” you said feeling weak against his touch, you knew it all depended on his mood and if he was just as desperate as you.
“I always try to be gentle” he said going back to your panties pulling them off completely. His hands trailed up to your tits and started playing with them. You instantly started moaning and thrusting your hips in the air trying to find any kind of touch in your cunt.
His thumbs starting rubbing against your nipples making you even more sensitive which you didn’t know was possible, his tongue swirling and tugging at your left one so slowly you almost were letting out sobs. Your hands got on his shoulders trying to push him away as it was starting to be too much.
“Y-You, you said you would be gentle Spence!” Your pushing did nothing but make him get closer and start to get harsher on you. He switched to the other one treating them equally.
“I never said that” he said looking up at you for a slight second before going back to your chest leaving saliva and hickeys everywhere.
His lips were against your neck now giving it kitten licks and kisses. His hands went down between your legs and found your clit rubbing it slowly just like you were doing.
You were letting out loud sobs and cry’s as you were nearing your orgasm. It was all too much for you, you didn’t have his touch for so long and now he’s giving it all to you.
“S-Spencer I’m cumming!!” You said shaking underneath him. It was hard opening your eyes and look at him.
“You did so good baby” he said moving your hair away from your face to behind your ear. He grabbed your face with his index and thumb smashing his face into yours kissing you sweetly.
He pulled back and pulled his pants slightly down, already unzipped from his endeavors in the chair.
He grabbed his dick again and starting teasing your wet cunt by swiping it up and down, also by tapping your sore clit with it.
“Please Spence…”
“You just love to beg for me don’t you” he said while thrusting in so effortlessly slow, he grabbed your hand and placed it right on your lower stomach feeling him inside.
“There I am baby”
“Can you see how I thrust inside of you?” his hand on top of yours, it all was starting to feel much more intense and intimate than before.
Spencer set a steady pace thrusting into you, he was so deep inside of you he was almost touching your cervix.
“S-So deep… Spence!” His thrusts started getting more intense especially when his hand was on your clit again rubbing small tight circles.
All of a sudden he pulled out and you let out a loud whine with a confused face. You instantly knew what he was doing as he grabbed your legs and put you in a mating press, legs pressed up to your face and your arms holding them up.
He leaned back slightly to see you fully in this position taking it all in.
“You’re so beautiful like this yn” he said getting close once again and ramming into you harder than before. Your head moved to the side and you could see his cock with a white rim around the base from all your juices. The sight sent you overboard and you started shaking, cumming against his dick making it much tighter and wetter for him.
“I’m cumming!” You said leaning your head back on the pillows with your mouth open wide and slightly open eyes.
“Just a second baby” he said getting so close to cumming, with your cunt wetter than ever and it pulsating against him it sent him overboard.
“Fuck!” He said loudly letting himself fall on top of you.
You both were trying to catch your breath, getting down from your high feeling like you were in another world.
Spencer stayed inside you not wanting to pull out, he always said you felt so nice and warm after you came.
“Spencer I have to get cleaned up!” You said slightly shoving his shoulder as if you could actually move even an inch of him.
“I’ll clean you up later just let me stay here longer” he said looking at you. You meekly said yes and went back to embracing him. You both falling asleep in each others arms and feeling his cum slowly leak out of you <3
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marksbear · 1 year
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hi....... may i request a male reader who's really affectionate with everyone and constantly wants to cuddle up w the BAU team? he's like the personification of a cat — ⚰️
Hello! It's been a minute since I wrote for the BAU, so I would love to write this. Hope you enjoy ⚰!
Warnings! Not a total furry reader just have a personality and characteristics of a cat y'know, could be seen as platonic or romantic.
BAU X AFFECTIONATE MALE READER
-Caught everyone a bit off guard when it was your first day and you're already welcoming everyone with open arms. But Derek and Penelope gladly returned the hug. -Penelope is quick to warm up with you and show your affection right back. She just immediately bounces off your vibes and actions. -Reid was the most caught off guard. Since he's already stiff and awkward it took back when the new guy hugged him -Once everyone in the team gets used to your behavior and actions they'll love and protect you with all their hearts. -One of the ways Derek notices your having an off day is when you don't cuddle up with anyone as you usually do. Hotch immediately notices when you don't greet anyone with a hug or even a small hand on the shoulder. -Hotch occasionally reminds you that sometimes people have boundaries and limits of affection. -Emily is a bit surprisingly more willing to cuddle up with you on the jet. Sharing the seats together holding each other in a koala type grip. -Hotch not minding if you just walk into his office and sit on his lap and nuzzle up to him as he works on paper work. -Spencer just being Spencer thinks there's a more physiological reason for your behavior and wants to ask about your childhood or your personal life, but too nervous to ask. -Derek having to pull you off other agents from different states/ from different units. "Y/n. We have plenty of time to cuddle with the agents after we so love this case."
-Hotch becoming protective of you in different states. Especially when they underestimate you because of how you act around the team. "Don't underestimate Agent L/n. He's in the FBI for a reason. Don't mistake his kindness for weakness."
-Sometimes when it is hard on the field and you are all flying back home in the jet. You'll gather everyone up on the couch and help them all get comfortable before laying down with them. Now it's just a big cuddle pile of tired FBI agents.
-Spencer was the one to finally point out how you remind him of a cat. Now everyone wouldn't let go of calling you a cat. To the point Derek sometimes narrates your every movement like on some animal documentary. "Look at the wild Cat. Only one left of the L/n breed. Watch how it's going into his natural habit." Derek narrates watching you go into Hotch's office. it's like an inside joke for only you and the team is supposed to know.
-If anyone else calls you "Cat." Like some random agent/ sheriff they're gonna get looked at crazy by the team. And exchange looks and side eyeing the person.
-Going inside Penelope's little bat cave spending hours cuddling while you nap on her.
-Catching everyone off guard by your little "cat naps." One minute you're talking about random stuff while drinking coffee. Then all of a sudden you put your head down on your desk for about twenty minutes later your back up yapping.
-Spencer saw you about fifty times before watching you fall to small- HUGE height for you to still land on your feet. Becomes a bit suspicious of you.
-The BAU watches you do parkour/ climbing things as you chase off an unsub who's on the run. "Get that bastard Y/n!" Derek shouts looking at the roof of a tall building watching you chase the unsub.
-Penelope buys you a pair of cat ears like hers.
-You making group hugs be mandatory after each hard case. Just to keep in mind you didn't lose any of your family today.
THE END
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barelytolerabled · 1 year
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Silent Whispers
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Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
Summary: After your painful break up with Spencer, you finally return to the BAU.
Warnings: break up, depression(?)
CW: 1.649
Taglist: @envraijesaispas @rosecentury @taygrls @thisismeraki @thenerdthatwrites @bigbunnygucci @jordie-gvf
The cold, sterile hallways of the BAU seemed eerily silent as you walked through them, your footsteps echoing faintly against the tiled floor. It had only been a few days since you and Spencer had decided to part ways, but it felt like an eternity. The once warm and comforting atmosphere had lost its touch, leaving behind an empty void that mirrored the ache in your heart.
The memory of the moment you and Spencer decided to part ways played like a painful film reel in your mind. It was a cold and somber evening, the air heavy with unspoken words.
The two of you had sat on the worn-out couch in your shared apartment, the silence between you growing louder with each passing second.
Spencer's usually expressive eyes were guarded, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap. He had always been a man of logic and reason, but in that moment, his vulnerability was palpable.
"I think it's for the best," he had said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to hold you back anymore."
You had felt your heart shatter at his words, the ache in your chest becoming almost unbearable. You reached out, your hand trembling as you placed it on top of his, seeking some semblance of connection.
"But I don't want to be without you," you had confessed, tears welling up in your eyes. "We've been through so much together, and I can't imagine my life without you in it."
Spencer had looked at you, his expression torn between love and pain. "I know it hurts, but I believe this is the right decision. You deserve someone who can give you the stability and happiness I can't."
His words had pierced through your heart like a knife, but you knew deep down that he was struggling, trying to protect you from the chaos and danger that had consumed his life.
"I love you, Spencer," you had whispered, your voice filled with both sorrow and longing. "And if this is truly what you want, then I'll let you go."
Tears streamed down your face as you held each other for what felt like an eternity, clinging to the remnants of a love that was slipping away. It was a painful goodbye, filled with unspoken promises and aching hearts.
You tried your best to put on a brave face, to mask the exhaustion that had settled deep within you. The weight of it all pressed heavily on your shoulders, leaving you drained and worn.
As you entered the bullpen, the familiar faces of your colleagues greeted you, but they didn't go unnoticed. Their eyes, sharp and observant, scanned your tired features.
Penelope Garcia, with her vibrant spirit and caring nature, was the first to approach you.
"Hey, hun. You okay?" Penelope's voice was filled with concern, her eyes searching yours for any sign of the pain you were hiding.
You managed a weak smile, trying to dismiss her worry. "Yeah, just a little tired. Rough few nights, you know?"
Penelope wasn't convinced, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before she nodded. "If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me, right?"
You nodded, grateful for her understanding, before moving toward your desk. The weight of the breakup seemed to hang in the air, and you couldn't help but feel the team's eyes following you, their worry palpable.
Spencer sat at his desk, his eyes fixated on his paperwork but his mind clearly elsewhere. He had been tormented by the decision to let you go, believing it was for your own good. Yet, as he saw you walk through the bullpen, the exhaustion etched onto your face, doubt seeped into his heart.
His thoughts were interrupted by Emily, who approached him quietly, concern lacing her words. "You're not fooling anyone, Reid. You can't ignore what's happening."
Spencer sighed, his eyes flickering in your direction. "I just thought it would be best for both of us."
Emily's gaze softened, her voice gentle. "Sometimes what's best isn't what's easiest. Have you considered that maybe you were wrong?"
The words struck a chord within Spencer, his heart twisting with guilt. He had been so focused on protecting you, he hadn't stopped to consider the consequences of his decision.
Days turned into weeks, and the relentless fatigue that had settled within you grew harder to conceal. The weight of sleepless nights and emotional turmoil had taken its toll, leaving you drained and barely functioning. The once familiar routine of the BAU felt like an uphill battle, every step requiring an immense effort.
One particular day, as the team gathered for an important briefing in the conference room, you found yourself struggling to keep your eyes open. The familiar faces of your colleagues blurred before you, their voices distant and muffled. The exhaustion had become too much to bear.
Penelope, ever perceptive, noticed your struggle. Her eyes flickered with concern, her worry etched across her face. Sensing your distress, she discreetly placed a hand on your arm, a silent gesture of support.
As the meeting progressed, your eyelids grew heavier, each blink lasting longer than the one before. Your head began to droop, and your attempts to fight off sleep became futile. Your body craved rest, demanding respite from the overwhelming fatigue that clung to you like a heavy fog.
Eventually, it became unbearable. You could no longer ignore the exhaustion that consumed you, threatening to engulf your every thought. In a moment of surrender, you mustered the strength to raise your hand, interrupting the flow of conversation.
"Excuse me," you managed to utter, your voice weary and strained. "I'm... I'm really sorry, but I
need a moment. I just... I need to lay down."
The concern in your colleagues' eyes was palpable as they exchanged worried glances.
Hot tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of frustration and weariness. The team understood the toll this ordeal had taken on you, their empathy shining through in their expressions.
Hotch, always the composed leader, nodded understandingly. "Of course, take the time you need. We'll catch you up later."
You offered a weak smile, grateful for their understanding, before making your way out of the conference room. The walls seemed to close in on you, the fatigue weighing you down with every step. You felt a mix of embarrassment and disappointment in yourself, knowing you had reached your limit.
Seeking solace, you made your way to a nearby empty office, its door ajar as if inviting you in. You closed it behind you, shutting out the noise and the curious gazes of your colleagues. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow from a desk lamp casting a warm, comforting ambiance.
With a heavy sigh, you sank into the plush office chair, allowing the weariness to wash over you. You closed your eyes, your mind finally granting you a temporary reprieve from the chaos that had consumed your days. The silence enveloped you, providing a sanctuary of stillness amidst the storm.
Minutes turned into hours as you surrendered to the much-needed rest. In that quiet solitude, you found a brief respite from the relentless fatigue, a moment to recharge and gather your strength. The weight on your shoulders lightened, even if just for a little while.
Eventually, the sound of a gentle knock on the office door roused you from your slumber. You blinked the sleep from your eyes and found Hotch standing there, his expression softened with understanding.
"Feeling better?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
You nodded, offering him a grateful smile.
"Thank you, Hotch. I'm sorry for interrupting the meeting."
He shook his head, his tone reassuring. "Don't apologize. Your well-being comes first. We're a team, and we'll always support each other."
It was then that Spencer finally mustered the courage to approach you.
He entered the office softly as Hotch made his way outside of it.
"Hey. Can we talk?"
You glanced up, your weary eyes meeting his. Nodding, he leaned on the desk. The silence hung heavy between you, the unspoken words
filling the void.
"I... I'm sorry," Spencer finally spoke, his voice filled with remorse. "You still have trouble sleeping ?", you nodded silently. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now how much I've hurt you."
You sighed, your shoulders slumping as you looked at him. "It wasn't just your decision, Spencer. We both agreed it was for the best."
"I should have fought for us," he admitted, his gaze filled with regret. "I've realized that sometimes what's best for someone isn't always what they need. I miss you, and seeing how exhausted you've been... I can't ignore it anymore."
Tears welled up in your eyes, the emotions you had been holding back threatening to spill over. "I miss you too, Spencer. I've been trying to move on, but it's been so hard."
He kneeled in front of you, his hand reaching out to gently wipe away a tear that escaped down your cheek. "I want to try again, if you're willing. I want to be there for you, to help you through this like I did before."
Your heart fluttered with hope, a glimmer of light breaking through the darkness. Nodding, you found solace in his presence once more. "I'd like that."
Spencer pulled you into a comforting embrace, the weight of the past lifting slightly. In that moment, you both knew that healing would take time, but you were determined to face it together.
As the days went on, the team watched with relief as the exhaustion gradually faded from your eyes. They saw the spark returning, the silent whispers of love and healing mending the broken pieces of your heart. And in the midst of it all, Spencer found redemption in your embrace, vowing to never let you go again.
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luveline · 4 months
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would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅
thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k
cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse
There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.) 
He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section. 
He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true. 
No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom. 
Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight. 
You look tired, too. 
Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess. 
You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas. 
Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky. 
You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops. 
You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one. 
“Hey,” he says. 
You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak. 
“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.” 
You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.
“Are you okay?” 
Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight. 
“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment. 
“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.” 
“It's getting better.” 
It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.
“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–” 
“I'm really okay–” 
“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–” 
You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.” 
Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.” 
“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket. 
“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.
He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still. 
Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag. 
“Thanks.” 
“Yeah, no problem.” 
“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.” 
“And he hit you?” 
“Yeah.” 
Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”
You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask. 
Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice. 
“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?” 
“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue. 
“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?” 
You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.” 
He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?” 
You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…” 
“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly. 
“I’m not stupid.” 
Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” 
“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.” 
He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now. 
“Can I buy you something to eat?” 
“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside. 
“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.” 
“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it. 
“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?” 
“No.” 
“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.” 
You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly. 
Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that. 
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mandarinmoons · 5 months
Note
Heyy! what about Spencer with a super independent reader convinced she doesn't need friends when really she's just been hurt a lot abd Spencer wants to help her? 🥰
Thank you so much for requesting, I hope you enjoy!
A true friend - Spencer Reid
After a long day of sorting through paperwork the last thing you wanted to do was haul the mountains of boxes back to the assigned cabinets, but that was your job and you couldn’t go home before it was all done. You tried to lift one of the crates into your hands, but were instantly brought back down by the force of gravity.
You can do it
Once again you lifted the box in your hands and you made it a few steps before your arms gave in and the box landed on the floor, all of the contents sliding over the office floor. You sighed and cursed in your head as you looked at the mess in front of you, it would probably take another hour for all of this to get cleaned up. Grudgingly you knelt on the floor and began picking up the papers when you felt someone run over to you and swipe the papers from your hands. You looked up with big eyes and saw Spencer neatly putting the papers together.
“Spence it’s fine I-”
“Let me help you.”
You bit your lip and kept quiet as you slowly gathered the files around you and Spencer doing the same at seemingly five times speed. In only about 15 minutes all of the papers were sorted and Spencer helped you carry them back to the office they originally came from. You were surprised he managed to hold onto the heavy boxes due to his boney figure, but you were reminded that the previous week he had tackled an unsub to the ground with ease with only one arm, so the man seemed to be full of surprises.
After the last box was perched back onto its cabinet you looked over at Spencer and felt guilty seeing him be out of breath, “I really appreciate the help. I owe you one.”
Spencer smiled and gave a slight chuckle, “Oh no need to, it’s what friends are for.”
Friends, hearing that word sent a chill down your spine. Usually it was a word that was supposed to bring comfort and happiness, but to you it felt cold and sharp. Spencer noticed your face grow sad and frowned,
“Are you okay?” Your head snapped up and nodded “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks again.”
You walked out of the room at a quick pace and were stopped in your tracks when you felt a hand on your shoulder, “You’re not fine, tell me what’s wrong.”
You looked into Spencer’s eyes and saw the concern in them. You were tired of hiding your anguish, but it felt too hard to open up about it.
“Y/N? Talk to me, please. I want to help.”
Tears pricked in your eyes and you took a shaky breath before wiping at them roughly.
“I just um… I don’t have any friends.”
Spencer’s face dropped at the information, “What do you mean you don’t have any friends?”
You sighed and mentally prepared yourself for the conversation you were about to have, “I’ve just never been good at maintaining friendships. All of my life I’ve had people come in and out of my life and it’s solely been for their own interests and not mine. My last friendship ended so badly that it just made me want to isolate myself, and it’s kind of been that way ever since.”
Spencer nodded and rubbed your shoulder in a comforting manner. You saw the pity in his eyes and wish that you couldn’t. It made you feel weak and you hated it.
“What if I was your friend?”
You looked up at the young man and furrowed your eyebrows, “Why would you-”
“Stop right there. You’re kind, you’re a great listener, you always let me talk to you about anything without interrupting and judging me. Plus, you make great coffee.”
You chuckled, he was right. You always let Spencer come to you and talk about whatever interest he had, whether you had knowledge on the subject or not. Most people would find his chatter off putting, but you found it interesting.
“C’mon Y/N, please, I don’t want to see you hurting.”
It was hard to say no to those puppy dog eyes of his, they reminded you of your first dog and that made it all the more harder. Eventually you cracked a small smile and nodded, “Okay then, I’m all yours now.”
Spencer grinned and pulled you into a warm embrace, “We’re gonna have so much fun, you just wait.”
You can find my masterlist here!
My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)
I could possibly write a part 2 for this so if anyone would like one pls let me know! xx
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reiderwriter · 7 months
Text
Baby, If You Only Knew
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x female Reader
Part Two of this fic, inspired by Taylor Swift's I Can See You
Summary: On the edge of a break, you and Spencer find ways to claim each other that get everyone's attention.
Warnings: Day 17 of Kinktober - make-up sex, possessive Spencer, marking, biting, love bites/ hickeys, penetrative sex, creampie, breeding kink.
A/N: Day 17 is finally here! I once again wrote this on my phone, but at least it was my nice, new, functioning phone. I hope you like it!
Sneaking back out of the closet wasn't easy when you were so pissed at Spencer. He wasn't able to control his impulses, and now it was your problem. So yes, it was hard to storm out of a closet in the middle of an argument without drawing the attention of all your team members. 
They each sent you strange looks as you walked back to your temporary desk and finished up your work, not talking to anyone until the days work had ended and you could escape back to your motel room for some much needed peace. 
Spencer didn't feel so strongly about your need to be alone. Catching a hand around the door before you shut it, he let himself in and closed it behind himself as you hugged and threw your bags down. 
"I don't want to fight again, Spencer, I'm tired."
"Then don't fight, but you need to listen." 
"Oh, do I? Couldn't imagine what else I'll be able to do in my room when you pushed your way in here." 
"Don't be unreasonable." He said wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you up into him once again.
"You know, for someone whose such a stickler for our no public dating rule, you sure have been risky today. Pushing me into that closet, following me into my private room." Your words were angry, but they were softened by the feeling of him against you. 
"I told you, if they were good at their jobs they'd have realised how I feel about you by now." 
"Sometimes people need words, Spencer to make things very clear," his head fell to your neck then, inhaling your scent before pressing his lips lightly against your skin. 
"What people would that be? You? Detective Dreamy?" He pressed another kiss to your skin, distracting you momentarily. Your next words came out in a stutter, and you almost cursed how weak you were being now. 
"That's not fair and you know it." 
"Let's test that theory, shall we?" He bit down on your neck then, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his centre as he began rubbing up against your core, head not lifting from the spot on your neck he'd evidently taken a liking to. 
"Spencer, fuck.." Your moans were breathy, held back by your anger and the knowledge that you were surrounded on both sides by FBI agents trying to get some sleep. 
"So pretty for me, just a little longer, I swear." You had no clue what he was talking about, and you weren't sure you cared, letting him suck and kiss and lick in anyway he wanted, just as long as he didn't stop. You could feel his dick in his pants, could feel it poking up against you as his hips shifted up and down, trying to give the both of you some release. 
He pulled away sharply after a few minutes, grinning boastfully at the blooming mark on your neck. 
"There," he said, wiping his lips carefully, setting you back down. "Is that enough of a public announcement for you?" You clapped a hand over your neck and ran to the bathroom to check your suspicions. 
Sure enough, there was a ferocious red mark that you were sure would swiftly discolour to purple. 
"Get out. Now, Spencer." He didn't stick around for long after that, evidently just as angry as you, but wearing that stupid smug look on his face still. He left you alone in your room and you wanted to scream and cry and make him come back and finish. 
You climbed into bed and let sleep take you. 
The next morning, you searched long and hard for an item of clothing that would cover his territorial marking. But your go bag had limited items in it, a fact that he'd known and exploited, placing the mark just high enough to poke over all the tops you out on. 
If he was going to play petty, you would, too. Pulling out your lowest cut top, you wrapped your hair up into a bun and decided to forego makeup entirely. He wanted the world to see what he'd done, and you were going to let them. 
Just as you'd suspected, Spencer's plan didn't work as he'd hoped. Instead of the team settling quietly and connecting the dots between the two of you quietly, they were almost more curious about what had happened. 
"Wooo, mama, getting up too close and personal with the locals are we? Good for you." Morgan had cheered at you S soon as you'd walked into the precinct that morning. 
You had similar, careful questions from JJ and Hotchner as well, and Emily had slapped you on the back and laughed maniacally as she asked you if you'd had a good lay. The best part was Spencer got to watch all of it happen, he got to watch himself get proved wrong right in front of his eyes and his stupid ego wouldn't let him say a word either way. 
You gave him a wink as you sat next to him, ready to continue reading up on files that'd help you nail the criminal. You had a suspect, now you just needed irrefutable evidence and possibly a confession to be able to return home. 
Your local admirer had followed you into the room, however, and you weren't expecting to have such a direct confrontation with the man who'd until this point had been nothing but polite. 
"You know, if you weren't interested, you could've said so in a less slutty way. Now you're parading around this precinct like a cheap whore. Not a good look." He said it so nonchalantly, you didn't even realise he was talking to you at first, only really tuning in when Spencer stiffened up beside you. 
"Excuse me?" You blinked at him again, wondering if you'd truly misheard him. 
"You heard what I said, you look like a who-" 
"Finish your sentence and I promise you, I'll have your badge, gun and pension by the end of the day." Spencer growled the words from your side, forcing the man to meet his eyes. 
"Come on, you're a smart man, Doctor Reid, surely you know what a little slut she's being, trying to play hard to get." You have to grab Spencer by the arm to stop him from reaching over the table and hitting the man. He responds by pulling you into his chest, effectively lifting you from your chair into his lap. 
"My girlfriend is not a whore just because she doesn't want your tiny dick. I'd say that actually makes her quite sensible." Your heart thumps at the confrontation, but choking on the tense atmosphere in the room, you're unable to say anything until Emily bursts into the room, breaking whatever spell had trapped you there in that pissing match. 
"Y/N– oh. We, uh, we need you in interrogation." Spencer grabbed your hips and stood you up, but he didn't let his hands leave you as he held his angry gaze with the detective. Spinning you around he bought your lips down to his, smothering you for a good minute before releasing you to Emily. You stumbled slightly, but made your way over, silently reeling at your boyfriends actions.
It was possessive, and shitty, and territorial, and so goddammit funking arousing. The growl in his voice had sent a spark through you that made you want to press your legs together until it stopped. So when the time comes for you to clock off that night, suspect safely behind bars, you practically skip all the way to your motel room. 
Once again, you found yourself with an alien object in the door, blocking you from closing it completely. This time, it was Spencer's satchel. 
"You trying to shut me out again?" He asks, a small smile grazing his lips.
"That depends, are you going to make me mount you in the office again tomorrow?"
"I was thinking the jet, actually. Join the club, you know?" He dropped his bags by the door and pulled you in for a kiss, letting you moan softly against his skin.
"I'm sorry," he said, pulling away and walking you back to the bed until it hit the backs of your legs and you let them buckle beneath you. "He wouldn't have talked to you like that if I hadn't marker you up like that." 
His words were an apology, but the fire in his eyes said he didn't really regret a thing. In fact, you were sure that'd he'd do it all again in an instant, but this time he wouldn't stop short on the violence.
"No, you're not." 
"No, I'm not. He shouldn't have talked to you, but I did enjoy watching him realise whose good little whore you are." You gasp at the words as he pushes you down fully on the bed, lips meeting yours again in a furious clash. 
"Fuck, Spencer," You gasped, as he ripped apart the tights you were wearing, desperate for access to your body. 
"I enjoyed it so much, I think I'm going to do it again. That's what you want, right baby?" He kissed his way down your neck while spreading your neck. It was more gentle than the previous night, more tender, but you knew you'd be waking up just as sore, so what did that matter now. 
Nails digging into your skin as he pushed the tights away from your core, you gasped at the contact, opening your chest and neck up further for him as you reacted to the sensations plaguing your body. 
You moved your hands up to unbutton his shirt, certain that anything he was going to do  you were going to repay tenfold. Undressing became a war between the two of you as you rolled around, mouths still connected, desperate to see each other completely undone first. 
Spencer had the advantage of not caring about how much of a wreck your clothes were, and in almost an instant, you were bare to him.
He kissed up and down your neck, over your breasts and down your stomach, leaving a trail of happy red marks to match his previous artwork. Installing each one took time, but you willingly gave him the freedom to bite, suck and sooth your skin, knowing you'd be on display for him for the rest of your life. He was still trapped inside his boxers, cock sufficiently hard and distracting against your core. When he finally pulled away to admire his work, you took the opportunity to push up, rolling the two of you over so you could grind into his large member as you gave reciprocated his kisses. 
He stoked a soothing hand down your back as you writhed on top of him, leaving a trail of small love bites from collar bone to collar bone, pressing a few higher just so you knew they'd be seen in the morning.
"That's it baby, you belong to me. Let's show everyone." When he decided you'd done enough, he flipped your position again, finally letting his cock free and shoving it into you with little warning, leaving you crying out his name as you finally received what you'd been begging for.
"Yes, Spencer, right there, right fucking there." Your voice was loud, desperate and raspy, like you wanted to hear what a desperate slut you were. He reciprocated in kind, playing into the pleasure of the moment.
"Oh you like that? You like my cock inside of you? Tell me who that pussy belongs to." 
"Spencer! It belongs to you, it belongs to Spencer." His fingers fell to his clit as he pulled his dick out of you for a second. Flipping you over onto all fours, he thrust in again, picking up a rougher pace as you listened to the creak of the bed, the wet slap of his balls against your ass. 
"That's right, my little slut, Y/N. My little slutty girlfriend." His arms wrapped around your torso as he began thrusting like a dog in heat, using your warm wet holes to get off, as a place to dump his load. 
"Gonna fill your fucking pushy so everyone knows who you belong to. Gonna knock you up and keep you filled so you remember, too." He pulled your head up by your hair as he said the words, and in an instant you were Cummings on his cock, screaming his name as he somehow found the energy to increase his speed.
The hand in your hair was the only thing keeping you from collapsing into the bed, your face covered in the tangle of hair and the drool dropping from your open mouth. 
"Did you hear me, Y/N? I'm gonna breed you. You want that?" You loudly moaned another barely coherent 'yes' and then you were away in the clouds, letting your eyes roll back in your head as the first rope of cum shot into you. 
He kept his hips flush with yours as he released into you, loving the feeling of your walls milking him for all he's got. He didn't pull out until he was certain that not a drop would fall out. 
He make a start to move towards the bathroom when the room phone rang, practically jumping off it's receiver. Picking yp the phone, Spencer greeted the reception clerk, knowing you were still such a panting mess, you'd never be able to carry out such a mundane conversation.
But mundane it was not as you watched your boyfriend flush in front of your eyes. 
"We got a noise complaint." He told you shyly, and you greeted him with a fit of giggles, breaking into crying laughter after about 10 seconds of looking at his bewildered face. 
"Where from?" 
"Room 127. It's the one on this side." He said gesturing to the left. That only set you off into more laughter, frustrating him ever so slightly. 
"What? What's so funny?"
"Spencer, that's Morgan's room. I guess if he didn't know from his brilliant profiling skills before he will now."
807 notes · View notes
halsteadlover · 7 months
Text
𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞
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*Gif and pic not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: your life is amazing. You have everything you wished for, a caring and beautiful husband, a satisfying job, an amazing house. What if in a matter of seconds, your incredible fairy tale is about to take a tragic twist?
• Warnings: angst, mention of car crash, blood, wounds, curse words, death.
• Word count: 7580.
• A/N: Please don’t kill me. Y’ALL BETTER EAT THIS FIC UP BECAUSE I PUT MY BLOOD AND SWEAT AND TEARS (always pretty please). I hope you’ll like this piece I know I was heartbroken writing it. Drop a like, a comment and reblog if you want, it’d be amazing and so helpful. I apologize for any mistake or grammar error. Thank you so much as always for your support, looking forward for your opinion. ❤️
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“Baby!”.
“Y/n!”.
“You hear me? Please answer me”.
“Please hold on, everything will be okay I promise. Please… Don't leave me.”
What was going on?
Why did you feel so weak?
Where was Spencer?
Your breathing was heavy, cold shivers ran through your body but despite this you couldn't move a single muscle even if you could feel your body waving to an unknown motion, like you were floating.
Am I moving?
You felt your eyelids fighting not to stay closed even if you tried with every fiber of your body to fight against that tiredness that wanted so badly to suck you into the darkness.
You were so afraid.
You managed to slightly open your eyes, only for a fraction of a second, and all you saw was a blinding white light that forced you to close your eyes right after. It was so strong you couldn't open them again.
What it was?
Was it heaven?
Were you dead?
“Please baby hold on, if you hear me please fight, I know you’re so strong. I’m begging you… Stay with me…”
Spencer?
Yes, there was no doubt that it was him even if his voice carried in the distance, each word fading further and further. You wanted so badly to answer him, to shout you were okay, that you could hear him, that you were there with him.
But were you really okay?
No, I’m not.
And the more you fought against the darkness, the more it sucked you into its heavy vortex.
You fought, you really tried, but you didn't have the strength. You were too weak, too tired.
You just wanted to rest for a bit.
God please let me okay.
You eventually gave up, stopped fighting and let yourself be lulled by that darkness.
It was so peaceful.
There wasn’t any more pain. Any suffering.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad.
Five hours earlier
“I really don't feel like going to work this morning,” your husband kept complaining. You were both still in your bedroom, you were sitting while Spencer was lying next to you, his arm around your hips and his head on your lap.
“Hotch will kill you if you take a day off without warning,” you giggled, running your fingers through his fluffy hair. “I also wish you could stay here love, I feel so lonely here without you. But unfortunately you can’t.”
Spencer huffed, holding you even tighter. “I know I'm so sorry baby, I hate leaving you alone. I'm always so worried.”
“Oh yeah I know, the three thousand texts you send me always asking me if I'm okay prove it.” You teased him and even though you couldn't see him you knew full well he rolled his eyes.
“Ah, ah, keep making fun of me,” he retorted. “Is it really weird I want to keep you safe?”.
“No baby, I was joking. You know very well I love you're so protective of me and besides, I’m okay, you don’t have to worry about me.”
He kept caressing your side, leaving a kiss on it at the level of your scar, a gesture that made your heart melt. He looked up at you and smiled before propping himself up on his elbows, resting his free hand on your face and pressing his lips on yours. A flock of butterflies exploded in your stomach.
It didn't matter how long you two were together, you felt the same butterflies, the same feeling as in the early days, he still managed to make your heart skip a beat with just a kiss.
God I love this man so much.
“What will I do without you?” Spencer pouted, already missing you before he even got out of bed and got dressed. “I just hope we won’t have any case.”
Spencer had left for work, but not before recommending you to call and text him if you needed anything. You reassured him, telling him not to worry, that everything would be fine and of course you wouldn't hesitate to call him.
You settled on the couch and spent the morning watching episodes of your favorite TV show which, although you loved it, was getting tiresome.
Three weeks earlier you had been injured on duty while chasing a serial killer who had shot you as he tried to escape.
You were fine but Spencer, being his overprotective self, refused to let you do anything that involved physical effort and prevented you in any way from returning back to work before the five weeks of rest recommended by the doctor. And it didn't help that Hotch agreed with him.
Spencer did nothing but text you all morning when he could, asking how you were as if you were in a hospital bed. You reassured him, sending him selfies of you lying on the couch, asking him how things were going at the unit.
You loved Spencer so much, you loved the way he always protected you, the way he was so thoughtful of you, the way he always put you first in any moment and situation.
The morning was rather boring so you decided to keep yourself busy with cooking something for lunch, that you wanted to bring to Spencer too since you missed him and didn't want to wait until the evening to see him again. But you also wanted to see the rest of the team again. You hated to say it, but you missed those assholes.
As you packed your and Spencer's lunch, your phone vibrated on the table.
From: Spence 💍, 12.47 AM Is it weird I miss you so terribly? I'll never get used to not seeing you here.
You smiled like an idiot, knowing how much Spencer wasn't a fan of technology but despite this being committed to use it since you couldn't live without it.
To: Spence 💍, 12:50 AM Have I ever told you I’m so madly in love with you Doctor Reid? I miss you so much more xx
You placed your phone on the table and continued putting away your lunch. When you finished, you grabbed some clean cutlery and paper napkins and then looked at your phone, noticing he didn’t answer your text yet.
You left the house after making sure you locked the door, you went to your car, pulling your phone out of your purse to send an audio message to Spencer.
“Baby don’t eat anything because I'm coming with your favorite food. It's a little burnt I have to admit, but in my defense I was distracted watching TV,” you let out a small laugh. “If you know what's best for you, you'll better say it's delicious or you'll sleep on the couch tonight. I love you so much, see you soon!”.
You got into your car and placed the two lunch boxes on the passenger seat. While driving, you were careful not to brake suddenly to avoid all the food spilling into your car.
You stopped at a red light and you took you phone to see if Spencer had texted you back but he didn’t.
The light turned green after almost thirty seconds and you placed your phone in your purse again before starting to drive again. You were at an intersection and you just drove few meters before your saw out of the corner of your eye a car speeding towards you.
You turned your head towards it and tried to brake but you weren't very fast.
Everything happened quickly.
A sudden, deafening thud made your ears ring and time seemed to stop for an instant.
You didn't have time to react, to even let out a scream or do anything else before that car hit you full force on the side.
If someone had asked you to describe what had happened in that moment, you wouldn’t have been able to do it because you didn’t even know what had happened in the first place, having lost consciousness before you could realize you had just been involved in a car crash.
Spencer was unaware in the meantime his whole life was about to undergo something he’d never, ever want to face, something he continually lived in fear of happening.
He and the rest of the team were in the meeting room, investigating on a case of a serial killer that the police in a nearby town had asked for help with. It was a simple case, so it wasn't even necessary for the whole team to go there.
“Reid focus.” Hotch had warned him several times when during the morning he caught him on his cell phone, the small smile shadowed his lips making it obvious who he was talking to. So he had put his cell phone in his pocket although his mind always went towards you.
He wondered what you were doing although knowing you, you were probably watching some TV show and the thought of you lying on the sofa, curled up under the blanket made him smile, earning you a small pat on the back of the head from Morgan.
“Focus pretty boy, I know you miss your beautiful wife but we have a case to solve.”
This had started a series of jokes and teasing towards Reid who in response would gave everyone the middle finger.
The truth was that he missed you deeply, he missed looking up and seeing you sitting at your desk filling out some case report with your pen between your lips and the wedding ring shining on your finger, he missed flirting with you in a not-so-subtle way and being made fun of by the whole team, even Hotch. He missed traveling from city to city and working with you to catch ruthless killers, he missed seeing you sitting in your chair around the meeting room table.
He couldn't wait for those two more weeks to pass, although the worry you still hadn't fully recovered didn't leave his mind.
His phone suddenly started ringing and he muttered an 'excuse me' before taking it out of his pocket and reading your name on the screen.
He moved away from the others so he could answer the call.
“Hi baby! What...-” He started but stopped immediately after when a voice that didn't belong to you interrupted him, making the smile he had on his lips instantly disappear.
“Do you happen to know Y/n Y/Ln? We found this number among the emergency contacts.”
Spencer frowned, his heart already eating wildly and anxiety twisting his guts. “Y-yes. She’s my wife… What's going on? Who am I talking to? Where’s she? Is she okay?”.
“I'm sorry to inform you that your wife was involved in a car accident, she’s in serious conditions…”
Spencer froze in place, the man's words echoing in his head while he couldn't process them.
What the fuck?
“C-can you repeat that?” He stammered, hoping it was just a misunderstanding, that the man had gotten the wrong person. “There must be a mistake m-my wife… She’s… She’s at home…”
“I’m very sorry sir…”
Spencer Reid, who had always been a quiet, calm and collected person, completely lost his mind.
After getting the address of the car crash site he ran at lightning speed out of the unit, ignoring the voices of Derek and the rest of the team who called him worriedly.
His mind wasn't focused on anyone else but you and as he sped through the streets he couldn't help but think about what the hell had happened.
You were supposed to be home, on the couch watching TV. Why did you went out? Why didn't you text him?
His stomach clenched with anxiety, an emotion he wasn't familiar with but since he'd met you he often seemed to feel because of the constant and devastating fear something bad might happen to you.
He wasn't good with feelings, everyone knew it, but thanks to you he had learned to give voice to what he felt, he had learned to embrace those sensations and emotions he struggled to show from an early age and that for so long he wanted to suppress.
A lump kept pressing on his throat, almost suffocating him. He continued to murmur and hope you were okay but when he arrived at the scene his heart almost stopped again.
The car crash scene was a disaster.
Various passers-by had gathered in shock from a distance to watch curiously as the fire fighters and paramedics worked on those piles of scrap metal that were the cars.
They were completely destroyed and no one believed the two drivers had made it given the catastrophic impact.
Various emotions had passed through Reid, emotions that he could group into one word: dying. That’s how he felt, dying.
He pushed through the crowd of people, pushing them aside and ignoring those who complained in response. After identifying himself with the cops he ran towards the wreckage where the rescuers and firefighters had just pulled you out of the destroyed car.
“Let me go! That's my wife right there!” He continued to exclaim loudly while two cops struggled to restrain him. His gaze was fixed on you, on your unconscious body while the rescuers carried you on the stretcher.
“Sir you need to let the paramedics do their job! I know it's a horrible situation but this will only hinder them!”.
Spencer was a guy who didn't like conflicts but at that precise moment he was willing to kill those cops with his bare hands.
He snorted loudly, pulling out his badge. “I'm an FBI agent and if you don't let me go to my wife right now I will make your life a living hell and have your badges on my desk before tomorrow.”
It only happened very few times he’d threatened someone, and most of them were to extort information or to make a killer to confess, but the way his wild and desperate eyes were glaring at the two cops, made them understand he wasn't bluffing at all.
They eventually let him pass and he ran towards you.
You lay unconscious on the stretcher, your body covered in your own blood. You had an oxygen mask on your face, a collar around your neck to stabilize it and Spencer had to rely on all the strength he had in his body not to collapse there in front of everyone.
He couldn't believe it, he couldn't believe it was true.
He grabbed your hand with his, the diamond of your ring pressing against his palm. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, not wanting to let his emotions overwhelm him. He couldn't be weak, not now, not when you needed him.
“Baby!”.
He called your name, desperation clear in his voice. His eyes scanned your face, always beautiful as the sun even if dotted with scratches and bruises.
“Y/n!”.
He called your name again, with even more urgency and desperation, hoping that hearing his voice would wake you up.
“You hear me? Please answer me.”
“Sir we have to go to the hospital immediately. We have no time to waste.” The paramedic's voice brought him back to reality and Spencer nodded, never taking his eyes off you.
“Please hold on, everything will be okay I promise. Please… Don’t leave me,” he whispered to you before turning to the paramedics. “I’m coming with you.”
The journey to the hospital was the longest and most painful ride Reid had ever made in his entire life.
He never let go of your hand, occasionally kissing your knuckles as he carefully watched every little movement the paramedics made.
At a certain point his heart rekindled with hope when he saw your eyelids move and open slightly.
“Y/n baby! Can you hear me? Y/n!” He exclaimed but his hope faded when he saw your eyelids close a second later and you lose consciousness again.
“Please baby hold on, if you hear me please fight,” His eyes filled with tears but he tried to fight them back, this wasn’t the time to cry. “I know you’re so strong, I’m begging you… Stay with me… I'm here, I'm here, and I’m not leaving you. Everything will be fine, you’ll be okay.”
You had a cardiac arrest on the way to the hospital but they managed to revive you and needless to say, this freaked out Spencer even more than he already was.
You died in front of him.
For a few moments your heart had stopped beating and the terror Spencer felt was a sensation he had never felt before. Maybe only when something happened to you during the job. He had always told you that you’d give him a heart attack sooner or later.
When the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Spencer barely had time to say anything before the doctors rushed you to the OR, leaving him helpless.
He passed his hands on his face, then fingers in his hair as he tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.
He had heard the police say the driver that hit you had lost control of his car after feeling dizzy, failing to stop at the red light and hitting you while you had just started driving again after the green light.
You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It had all been a stupid twist of fate and now you had to fight to live.
Spencer didn't believe in fate, he didn't believe there was some superior being or entity, he believed in science, in empirical data, in theories proven by hypotheses and theses, but then why did this happen? Why was the love of his life fighting between life and death?
Why did it seem like someone or something wanted to snatch his happiness away when he was finally happy?
He walked back and forth across the floor of the waiting room for what seemed an infinite amount of time, almost digging a ditch in the wake of his footsteps.
He had called Hotch, told him about the car crash and that you were in surgery and he reassured him the whole team would be there in no time.
It wasn't until after you ended the call with Hotch that Spencer saw your last messages, including the audio text you'd sent him.
His fingers were shaking and he sat down, fearing his knees would give out sooner or later.
His eyes filled with tears again as they read the message and the chasm inside his heart opened even more. But it was when he listened to your audio message the air was completely sucked out of his lungs and it became difficult to continue breathing.
“Baby don’t eat anything because I'm coming with your favorite food. It's a little burnt I have to admit, but in my defense I was distracted watching TV,” He heard you giggle while in the background he heard the car door open and close shortly after, a sign that you had just gotten into the car. “If you know what's best for you, you'll better say it's delicious or you'll sleep on the couch tonight. I love you so much, see you soon!”.
Your audio cut out and Spencer only realized he was crying when tears fell from his eyes onto his phone screen.
He was completely devastated.
It was his fault.
You went out because you were going to bring him food.
He couldn't process what was happening, he couldn't conceive it.
How did you go from hugging in bed that morning to you in the OR? For what kind of fucked up reason did this happen to you? Among the many people who could’ve been at that damned intersection, why did it have to be you?
Spencer knew it wasn't right to hope it happened to someone else but he didn’t care, fuck, he wished it’d happened to himself.
For the first time in his whole life Spencer prayed.
He prayed with every fiber of his being to whoever was up there to make you survive, he prayed to be able to see you again, hug you, kiss you again. He prayed to hear your laugh again, your awful jokes, to see your smile and your eyes shining when you saw him, he prayed to be able to sleep with you again, to wake up in the morning and smell the scent of your skin and hair, of feeling your fingers run through his messy hair while you were watching a movie and he had his head resting on your lap.
He prayed to still have time with you. He prayed to start a family with you even though the thought of it terrified him because he had no idea how to be a parent, but at the same time knowing there was no other person he’d want to do it if not you. He begged to tease you when the first wrinkles would appear on your beautiful face but to console you at the same time saying you were still the most beautiful and breathtaking woman he had ever met in his life.
He prayed to see your hair turn white, to see your children have kids of their own, he prayed to hold your hand until the end of your days.
He couldn't imagine a place on the planet where you didn't exist, where you weren't with him.
You two just got married, you had just started your life together, it couldn't all just vanish like that, in the blink of an eye, it just couldn't end.
You were strong. This was one of the many qualities Spencer admired about you, you were much stronger than you wanted to show and if there was anyone who could overcome that obstacle it was you.
The rest of the BAU had arrived after about fifteen minutes, both with worried and heartbroken expressions on their faces except Penelope, who was crying almost as many tears as she had.
“Reid!”.
JJ's voice made Spencer snap his head up from his phone, not realizing he had been mesmerized by looking at the picture he had as his background. It was a photo of you he took during a picnic during one of your first dates after you got together, Spencer had told a horrible joke and you had burst out laughing.
Spencer was so hypnotized by you, by the sound of your laugh, by your smile, by the small wrinkles at the corners of your eyes that he couldn't resist taking a photo and since then it had become his wallpaper and one of his favorite photos of you ever.
Everyone could notice the swelling of Spencer's eyes, evidence of the crying.
“Come here pretty boy.”
Morgan was the first to approach Spencer, pulling him in a brotherly hug, squeezing him with all the strength he had in his body, as if wanting to convey to him some of that strength he knew he tremendously needed.
“She's gonna make it okay? We know Y/n, that woman is a force of nature. She’ll make it.” He whispered in his ear, trying to hold back his emotions.
Everyone tried to appear as strong as possible but the truth was they too felt a boulder pressing on their stomach. Before being Spencer's wife, his partner, you were a colleague, a friend to all of them.
Nobody said anything else.
There were no need for words, everyone knew it’d be of no use.
They all tried to comfort each other, Emily was holding Garcia's hand the entire time, JJ and Morgan were sitting next to Spencer while Hotch and Rossi were standing not far from the others, all silently praying for you wellbeing.
Reid's body was sitting in the waiting room, surrounded by his friends and colleagues, yet his mind was completely elsewhere. His thoughts ran and ran, without stopping, so fast he didn't know which ones to listen to first.
Spencer and the team spent hours sitting in the waiting room, waiting for some doctor to come and update them on your health. He hoped the longer they took it meant there was a better chance of you getting through the surgery.
When he saw a doctor approaching where they were sitting, it was as if a vision manifested in front of him. His heart was beating wildly, so loudly he thought everyone around him could hear it while anxiety twisted his stomach so much he feared he’d throw up on the doctor's feet.
“Are you Y/n Y/Ln's family?” the doctor asked.
“I'm her husband. How is she? Please tell me she's okay. When can I see her?” Spencer blathered once he jumped up and approached doctor - he read the card - Miller.
He looked skeptically at the rest of the team, and then Spencer spoke. “It’s okay, we’re all colleagues, a family. How is Y/n? She made it right?”.
Spencer observed the micro-expressions on Dr. Miller's face. He noticed how his eyebrows furrowed slightly, how his chest rose slightly and fell, how his lips pressed together, how his neck stiffened and his posture tensed.
He knew that expression, unfortunately he knew it too well because of the job he did. It was the same expression with which he looked at the victims’ families when he was about to give them the worst and most devastating news of their lives.
Spencer saw that but decided to ignore it, he decided not to listen to his guts.
“The patient suffered much more serious damage than we imagined…”
“And what are you doing here? Go help her!” Spencer exclaimed, abruptly interrupting the doctor.
“Due to the violent trauma and along with broken bones, the ruptured spleen, the liver damage as well as the amount of blood she lost, she had also suffered a dissection of the ascending aorta.”
Spencer's heart stopped.
“W-what? What does that mean doctor?” It was Penelope who asked.
“It’s the tearing of the aorta’s wall, the largest vessel in our body. It has weakened due to the trauma and it’s no longer able to pump blood towards the other blood vessels and consequently the entire body can’t receive enough blood. Trying to repair it’s practically impossible, as her heart has already stopped once, she’s too weak to face a surgery, and the dissection further aggravates the situation. She would die on the OR table before we can even get to the aorta,” Dr. Miller explained, trying to be as clear as possible.
“Dissection of the ascending aorta is unfortunately one of the most serious vascular conditions and… There is no easy way to say it, we have done everything we can but she does't have much time left. It's a matter of hours…”
A deafening silence fell in the waiting room.
Almost everyone put their hands to their mouths to try to cover the gasps and sobs, Hotch stared at his shoes while shaking his head in disbelief. No one could believe what they had just heard.
Spencer couldn't hear a word Dr. Miller said. His brain refused to process them, because it couldn't be true, there must have been some misunderstanding.
Maybe he had confused patient, maybe he had talked to the wrong family.
“No, no, no!” Spencer exclaimed loudly. Morgan put a hand on his shoulder but he shook it violently. “Don’t touch me!” Then he went on to point a finger at Dr. Miller.
“Say it again.”
“Sir…”
“Reid…” Rossi whispered.
“Say it again!” He shouted, his voice shaking. “Say it! Because there is no way on earth I just heard my wife is fucking dying! Say it again!”.
Spencer's voice cracked at the end and he burst into tears, bending to the ground as he felt his legs gave out.
Dr. Miller looked at Spencer with sadness while he was in the throes of disbelief and despair. Nobody dared to say anything, they too had to process that mourning, but they all knew that Spencer needed time more than anyone.
How do you react calmly when someone tells you that your partner, the love of your life, is about to die?
And it wasn't just any person, someone he just met, but you. You were dying.
Doctor Miller knelt in front of Spencer, placing a hand on his shoulder as he continued to cry all the tears he had in his body. “I'm so sorry, if there had been anything, anything we could’ve done to save her we would’ve done please trust me. I can't even imagine what you're going through right now but she's in the ICU now and she's awake, we gave her morphine so she doesn't feel any pain. Go and say goodbye to her, okay?”.
The world was collapsing on him, everything was disintegrating around him and he couldn't do anything to stop it.
How the fuck did this happen? How the fuck was that possible?
He couldn't believe it, he couldn't process what was happening.
It shouldn't have happened, not to you, you didn't deserve it.
He was terrified, more than he had ever been in his entire life, not even when he had been kidnapped and tortured by a ruthless killer.
Images after images of moments with you continued to flood his mind while a sense of anguish gripped his stomach, so strong he couldn't stop crying.
He cried.
Everyone cried with him in that waiting room, hugging each other.
All his dreams had been shattered, they had all vanished in the blink of an eye, flown away like a grain of sand in the sea.
Where did his ‘forever’ go?
His forever was in the ICU and was about to die. The only person he had ever loved, the only person who had ever understood him without trying to fix him, the only person who had ever made him happy, who had made him understand the meaning of the word love, who had made him believe that even if he came from a dysfunctional family that didn't mean the same fate would happen to him, the only person for whom he lived, breathed, for whom he committed himself every single day to fight his demons and ghosts was about to walk away forever.
How do you survive something like that?
What would he have done without you?
Spencer couldn't live without you.
He couldn't even imagine waking up in the morning and not finding you. He couldn't imagine coming home at night and knowing you’d be dead. He couldn’t imagine going in the kitchen and not smelling your food. He couldn’t imagine watch a romantic movie and not seeing you cry your eyes out.
No, no, no, fuck, that couldn't be true.
One by one they all came to you to say goodbye but no one spoke to each other. Spencer didn’t have the strength to walk into that room, he hoped till the last minute it was just a nightmare and he’d soon wake up.
There was only desperation and so many, many tears. Even Hotchner, always so serious and impeccable, couldn't stop the tears when he left your room, moving away from the others so as not to be seen.
The last one was him.
When it was Spencer's turn he was terrified.
His fingers trembled as they were about to open the door. He didn't have the courage to enter that room, look you in the eyes, say goodbye to his love.
With what strength would he have hugged you knowing it would be the last time? How would he be able to say goodbye? How would he be able to tell you he loved you knowing it was the last time? How could he let you go?
Every step he took was heavy, leaving a piece of his tormented soul behind each one.
Seeing you was like a punch in the stomach, like every time his eyes rested on you but that time what he felt wasn't happiness but only sadness, desperation, anguish and helplessness.
Oh my everlasting love. You didn't deserve all of this.
You lay in bed, a nasal cannula supplying you with oxygen, electrodes connecting your body to monitors that marked a low blood pressure and a below-normal heart rate.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to rely on what little strength he had to not collapse to the floor and burst into desperate tears again. But the shine of his eyes, their swelling and redness showed how intensely he had cried in the last few hours.
You looked at him and he felt breathless.
How will I live without those eyes?
“Hi baby.”
His voice trembled, smiling slightly as he moved closer to you. He couldn't conceive the idea that the last time he had seen you was that same morning and you were fine, while at that moment you were on a hospital bed dying.
He pulled up a chair and sat next to you. He took one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers and leaving a kiss on the back of it. All it took was for your skin to come in contact with his for him to burst into inconsolable and suffocating tears again.
He wrapped his arms around your hips, his head resting on your abdomen as you stroked his hair. It was a projection from that same morning but the difference was that this time would be the last.
He would no longer hug you, he would no longer be lulled by the warmth of your arms, feel your fingers run through his messy and tangled hair.
Silence reigned in the room, interrupted only by Spencer's sobs as he continued to cry desperately. He held you like he had never done before, as if in that way he hoped you would stay.
“It's okay…” you barely whispered, weakened and groggy from the morphine.
You felt… Apathetic.
You couldn't describe the emotions you felt at that moment, ever since the doctor told you didn’t have much time you felt anesthetized.
It was as if you were seeing everything from an external perspective, as if it wasn't really you lying on the bed, as if it wasn't you who was going to die in a few hours.
Not a tear had rolled down yours, not even when the rest of your team had come to say their final goodbyes.
You didn't want to feel like this, you didn't want to be apathetic, so numb. You wanted to feel anger, pain, helplessness, anguish, anxiety, anything, you wanted to cry, scream, but the more you tried, the more you couldn't.
“Don’t leave me please…” Spencer's sobs interrupted him. He continued to cling to you, to hold onto you as if his life depended on it.
“Baby, look at me.” Your voice was hoarse, thick with sleep and tiredness.
“No, no, no, I know what you want to tell me… No…” He held you even tighter than before. “You can't leave me…”
He turned his head towards you, his vision completely blurred with tears, his face wet. He brought his hands to your face, caressed your cheeks, your hair and tried as much as possible to imprint every detail of your skin in his memory.
“You're so beautiful baby,” he whispered, “It's not fair…”
“I know,” you whispered back weakly, “I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. But it's so unpredictable, isn't it?”.
“No, life sucks.”
You placed a hand on his still on your face, closing your eyes for a moment and enjoying the feeling of warmth that only he could give you.
“I know everything seems bad right now, I know you'll think this long after I'm gone but it's not like that love, life doesn't suck. It’s the most beautiful gift we could ever have...” you murmured with no small effort, your breathing heavy and difficult.
He shook his head. “Bullshit. You are my life, baby...” He cried. “I can't live without you. I can't... I can't go home and not find you there, I can't sleep without you next to me, I can't go to work and look up and not find you sitting there at your desk… I can’t…”
“Of course you can you’re the strongest person I know baby, even if you don't recognize it. You’ll be happy again...” You placed a hand on his cheek, drying with your fingers his tears that never stopped coming out. “Promise me one thing.”
“No, no, no, I can't, don't do this to me please… Don't make me promise something I can't keep baby…”
“Spencer, please. I can't leave knowing you won't be happy, please, I need to know you’ll at least try... Promise me...”
A solitary tear rolled down your face, even though you didn't even realize it at the time.
He shook his head, looking down as he continued to cry. He sat down on the bed next to you, pulling you into a hug you tried to return with the little strength you had left.
He left a long kiss on your head, inhaling deeply that beautiful scent he’d never be able to smell again in his life. He rested his cheek on you, letting your hair tickle his skin.
“I can't… I can't…” he repeated, feeling the air disappear more and more from his lungs. “You’re the first person who made me understand what it means to be happy baby… I don’t how to do it without you… D-don't… You can't ask me… I’m begging you…”
You slightly pulled away from him, cupping your hands on his face and smiling slightly through the tears you hadn't even realized you were shedding.
You were crying.
“I wouldn't ask you if I knew you couldn't Spence. I know it’ll be hard but life is beautiful baby, so damn beautiful and deserves to be lived to the full. Plus, I'm not really leaving okay? My body may no longer be here but my soul will always be with you, I’ll always be here when you need me, I will never leave you.” You spoke softly, your breathing heavy with each word. You placed a hand at his heart level which was beating wildly at that moment.
He shook his head again, still crying as desperation enveloped him more and more. “But I-I want you here…”
“Shh, listen to me love, please…” You stopped due to a cough. Spencer rushed to get you a glass of water from the bedside table, helping you drink and stroking your back in the meantime. “Thanks baby.”
Despite the morphine you still felt a weight on your chest, your lungs couldn't expand and everything hurt.
But it wasn't physical pain.
It was your soul that was hurting.
“Listen to me…” You started speaking feebly again, looking Spencer in his eyes, losing yourself in those two beautiful wells. “I need to know you’ll move on baby, that you’ll find someone you’ll love again and who will love you so deeply like I did, with whom you’ll build a beautiful family, with whom you’ll have children, a beautiful house and a dog if you want. This doesn’t mean you’ll forget about me, I’ll always be by your side at every step you take, I promise you, I’ll watch over you and if you need anything you just have to talk to me... Maybe not in front of other people or they’ll think you’re crazy.”
He chuckled through his tears and your heart skipped a beat. “That’s it. That’s the beautiful smile I always want to see, God you make me so happy.”
“There will be no one after you baby.”
“Spence please…-”
“No, no, you can't ask me that,” he murmured, his tone of voice so melancholy and sorrowful it made your gut wrench. “When I married you I never thought for a second there could be an ‘after you’, never, even though I knew the risks we both ran because of our jobs. There will never be anyone after you Y/n, there will never be anyone who can ever make me happy like you do, there will never be anyone I will ever love as much as I love you. It… It wouldn't be right...” He let out a deep sigh “It wouldn't be right for her, for... For the children because I wouldn't love them as much as I love you, because I would look at them and only think I could’ve had all that with you and I don't want that…”
He stroked your hair, looking at you with so much love it made your heart melt.
You didn’t want your time to end. You wanted to be with him, forever.
“Spencer… I-I'm terrified…” You managed to murmur before bursting into desperate, heartbreaking tears. Spencer hugged you while you sobbed into his sweater.
“I know… I know…”
Terrified didn't even come close to describing how you felt at that moment.
I'm dying.
Soon I won't be here anymore.
You couldn't conceive it, realize it, you couldn't accept it. But then again, how could you? Who would ever accept a death sentence?
You weren't ready.
You didn't want to leave Spencer, God, you had so many dreams to achieve together and it wasn't fucking right, it wasn't.
You just wanted to bring lunch and eat with your beloved husband, spend some time with him, why did this have to happen to you? What did you do wrong? You hadn't died from a bullet three weeks earlier but you were about to die for wanting to see your husband.
Why didn't you just stay home? If you had done it you would’ve been fine, you would’ve just had to wait for Spencer to come home that evening so you could hug him again. If you had done it you would’ve slept in the same bed, together that night, perhaps after making love, the next morning you would’ve woken up with his scent and his warmth, you would’ve had breakfast together.
You both cried until you couldn't breathe, holding on to each other as if you were both each other's lifelines.
You felt weak, every moment that passed breathing was like a punch in the stomach even though the oxygen flow had been turned up to maximum.
Hours passed and every minute that passed the fear paralyzed you more and more.
Spencer stayed next to you the entire time, hugging you and tightly holding your hand. You’d think he had shed all the tears he had in his body but instead he had never stopped, he continued to cling to you, to hold you in the hope that a miracle would happen.
He didn't believe in miracles, he thought there was a reason for everything, but in that moment he prayed for one to happen with every fiber of his being.
Your eyelids felt heavy and you struggled to keep your eyes open.
You were tired, so fucking tired, just wanting to rest for a bit but knowing if you definitely close your eyes you wouldn’t be able to open them again.
“Do you think heaven exists?” You whispered in a small, thin voice. Spencer kissed your forehead, continuing to stroke your hair as his salty tears kept running down his cheeks.
“Of course it exists, all the angels are just waiting for you. I'm pretty sure you’ll be the most beautiful angel of all, dressed in white and with the light surrounding you.”
You giggled, only to be interrupted by yet another cough. You were so grateful to have Spencer, that even though he didn't believe in an afterlife, in heaven, in angels, still tried to make you feel better.
“I'm so tired baby…” you murmured, closing your eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.
He held you tighter, feeling more tears streak down his face. “I know my love, but you can rest, I’ll always be here I promise, I’ll never leave you.”
“Spencer, you are the greatest and most beautiful love I have ever had in life, you made me the happiest I've ever been and I want to thank you for everything, for everything you have done for me, for teaching me the truth meaning of love…” You took a deep breath. “I will love you forever, I hope you know that, in this world and wherever else I’ll go. I know we’ll meet again, even if not in this life, we’ll meet in next one.”
He shook his head in despair as he continued to sob and cry. He wasn't ready to say goodbye, he wasn't ready to let you go, but who he was kidding, he never would be.
“I love you so much my darling, I will always love you until my last breath.”
He kissed your forehead softly again, pressing his lips to your skin longer than expected as he tried to make the most of those last moments with you.
“You’re the best and most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me. I love you, always and forever,” he kept whispered, hugging you. But you couldn't hug him back.
You had closed your eyes and fallen asleep, in the arms of the person you loved most in the world where you always wished your last moments would be.
The room was filled with sounds from the monitor connected to your heart, which had started to slow down.
Your heartbeat had slowed.
More and more.
Until it stopped and all that was left was a flat line.
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