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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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You're Just Too Good To Be True

Chapter 9 of That's What You Get

Summary: You're determined to seduce Spencer after accidentally rejecting his last advances. It goes better (and worse) than you expect.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, Dom! Spencer, Oral (M receiving), clit stimulation, sort of dry humping, cum play, breeding kink, size kink, wife/husband role play, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, slut, whore), creampie and heartbreak. MINORS DNI 18+

A/N: Welcome to the endgame. Please don't worry about anything and go into this chapter completely blind 🥰 My requests are finally back open, and you can find my masterlist here! I'm also participating in kinktober this month, and everything so far is here, too if you're interested!! 💕 Enjoy!

The elevator was painfully slow as you followed Spencer out of the building. You had to take your bets about which way he'd have gone, whether he'd brought a car or was planning on taking the subway. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you chose the parking garage, partially hoping for seclusion with him a bit faster than you'd get if he'd run to the crowded station.

Fate was on your side. You stepped off the elevator on the basement floor and after a harried moment of twisting this way and that, your eyes locked onto him in the distance, walking towards his desperately old car. A miracle, considering he didn't often drive.

"Spencer!" You shouted across the lot, practically skipping over to him, only mere paces away when he finally turned to look at you. You slowed down to a walk then, but with a marked anticipation bubbling in your stomach, your steps felt like lurches, your body drawn into him by the beat of your heart.

"Spencer, wait." He'd stopped just in front of his car, so he wasn't really moving, but you wanted to be sure. You needed to be sure.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" He asked, his tone light, not as confused as his face made him seem. You hoped that was a good sign, that he was playing up the awkwardness of the interaction for anyone else who happened to be driving themselves home.

"Our annulment deadline passed, right?" You looked up into his eyes, trying to hold the grin back from your face as you locked eyes with him.

"Yes. I told you that the other night in the lobby, why are you asking again?"

"Because I want to go home with my husband." You took a step closer to him with the words, letting them fall lower, hitting the back of your throat where your heart was currently beating. They somehow didn't get stuck as you raised your hand to his chest. You didn't touch him fully, just let your pointer finger trace circles on the pocket of his shirt, hoping he'd hoping understand. Desperately.

Sick of your teasing, he grabbed your hand and flattened it against his chest, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he slowly twisted the two of you around. You were like two beasts, circling each other, looking for areas to attack, to bite, to destroy. God you wanted him to destroy you.

Before you knew it your back was to the car door, his voice in your ear.

"And what do you want to do at home with your husband?" He growled in your ear, as he dropped your hand, instead bracing himself on the roof of the car and leaning down into you. Your body was on fire and he wasn't even making contact anymore.

"I think you know."

"I think I want to hear anyway."

You just couldn't give into that. A challenge had been issued, and by God were you going see it through.

"I want to feel my husband's hands around my throat. I want to feel his heartbeat pressed against mine. I want him to hold my hand as he pounds into me. And I want him to cum so deep inside of me that it doesn't even drip out." Each word was hushed, even in the stillness of the basement. It looked empty, but you never knew who'd snuck into their cars before you'd arrived. Or even after, as you focused all your will and energy on Spencer.

To his credit, he didn't move, barely even batted an eye. He just nodded down at you, and smiled slowly, letting it spread across his lips in a wild grin, as if you'd just said the sweetest words to him instead of the dirtiest.

"Your husband is a lucky man."

"He could be, but he hasn't opened the car door for me yet, so who knows." You dared to touch him then, snaking one hand up his chest into his hair, and slowly pulling his head down for a kiss as you pushed yourself up.

His arms didn't move until the second you touched, abuzz with the contact as you suddenly found yourself stuck together as if glued. His lips slip expertly over your own, as your thoughts run amok with glee. You'd won, and he was your prize. He pressed you back into the car, letting his hands explore more and more of you as he got carried away by your scent, the feeling of you under his hands, the taste of you on his lips.

He finally pulled away and put three metres of space between you, physically far enough that he couldn't touch you as he turned away, trying to wipe you from his lips.

"I'm sorry, we shouldn't be doing that here. Someone could see us."

"I don't care." His eyes shot back to yours with a tilt of his head that you knew was him asking you if you really meant that. "I don't care who sees us, because I want them to know who you belong to."

"Are you sure you're not going to avoid me for weeks again if I keep kissing you?"

"Spencer, I want you to do much more than just kissing me this time."

The grin bloomed on your lips before you could stop it, so proud to be claiming him publicly now.

You could see the hesitation on Spencer's face as he risked pulling you back in, likely running the worst case scenarios of taking you right then and there in the car (misdemeanour charge of public sex, 1-2 years of probation, demotion from BAU, registry on a sex offenders list etc.) and collected his thoughts. He so would have liked to have hiked your skirt up then and there, but he doesn't even have to ask to know your opinion on the matter.

You could practically hear him counting to ten.

"Get in the car."

"Say it nicely and I'll think about it." He raised an eyebrow, keeping eye contact as he opened his mouth one more time.

"Get in the car, Mrs. Reid. Or do you need to be manhandled into it."

As much as you're sure you would have enjoyed that, you chose not to push it too far. So you did as you were told, little sparks of heat flying up and down your body as you replayed the possessive tone he'd used to say your name.

The car was cold, but you feel it warm up more as he closes the door behind you and climbs into the driver's seat. It increases tenfold when he leans over to pull your seatbelt into place, and dissipates entirely when he rests his hand on your leg and doesn't move it for the rest of the ride.

Your almost disappointed by just how locked in it is, wishing desperately that it would go further up, right to where you wanted him. You even tried to press the issue, literally, with your hands.

"Y/N, if I touch you anymore than this, we're not making it home. And there aren't many secluded spots on the side of the road, and I'm pretty jealous when it comes to things that are mine." You try not to melt at the words, but you fail, your legs dropping apart naturally.

You expect him to take you to his place, excited to finally christen the bed you'd slept in peacefully twice. But as the scenery around you changes, becoming infinitely more familiar, you realise that's not the direction you're going.

"This is the way to my apartment." It's less of a question, more of a statement, but he nods at you in confirmation.

"You said you wanted to go home. I'm taking you home."

"Spencer, your apartment would've been fine, that's your home."

"My home is wherever you are. We're here." He turns the engine off and climbs out of the car, leaving your heart fizzing with adoration.

He finishes the conversation as he opens the door, offering you a hand and pulling you up so quickly you stumble into his chest as his lips fall to your ears.

"Besides, your place is closer." Heat pooled between your legs, only growing with each step as your body reacted to having him closer and closer to your bed.

"Didn't want to fuck me in the car though?"

"I wanted something better for our first time."

"This isn't our first time, Spencer." Your back hits the door of your apartment as you round on him, needing to see his eyes as you remind him that you know what he feels like inside of you.

"How much do you remember?" He asks, not stepping closer, but not moving away either, eyes roaming your body alight with bodily hunger.

"I remember the way you feel. The way you taste. I remember all the carnal details and none of the practical ones, and I'm beginning to think that maybe they're the only ones that matter." You wet your lips and glance down to his. A moment's hesitation is all he needs to attack you again, pushing his entire body weight into you as his lips find yours again.

He's hot and he's hard and he's big and he's pushing against you so strongly you fear he's going to push you straight through the door, no unlocking needed. He pulls back just long enough for you to remind him of it though, but his only reaction is turning you around so his crotch is against your ass.

"Go ahead and unlock it then." His lips find their way to the sensitive spot on your neck, and you wonder if it's luck or skill that puts him there, how he knew it would drive you crazy.

It takes multiple attempts to open the door, and you're growing impatient in your lust, letting out tiny whimpers in frustration. You feel like your three more failed attempts away from stomping your feet and throwing yourself to the floor in a tantrum when his hand comes up so steady your own, pushing the key into the door first try.

"You just needed some help getting it in, it's okay." The innocent words do nothing to distract from his hot cock resting at your ass, and you almost roll your eyes at the irony of the moment as he guides you inside.

He turns you again and your lips lock in desperation. He hits the light switch and you don't stop. Your legs hit the back of your sofa, and you don't stop. Your unbuttoning his shirt and you don't stop, nearing the end of your tether, ready to feel him snap right back into you like a taught wire.

"You're not even inside me yet and you already feel this good…" You whisper the words as he words down your neck, paying special attention to your pressure points, like he's memorised all the spots on your body that leave you weak in the knees. You can feel his smile as he attempts to undo you.

Until he pulls away. Looking down at you as if you were a work of art and he the painter, he nods in satisfaction, before lifting you bridal style.

"It's time for us to get into bed."

"Well, aren't you the gentleman? Where I'm from, it's called fucking, Spencer." He almost flinches at the vulgarity, but you brush it off, letting him throw you down onto your bed.

He starts working on the buttons of his sleeves, rolling them up neatly to his elbows in preparation for something important, but you don't give him the chance.

Slipping off the bed, you make your way to your knees, where it becomes achingly apparent that the buttons on his pants also need to be pried open.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asks, a little ticked off by your movements.

"I'm getting ready to please my husband, obviously. Isn't that what good little wives do?" You finally slip him from his pants, letting his erection answer the question for him.

"I'm in charge."

"And I like it that way," you say, opening your mouth wide as he grabs his cock in his hand, and sticking your tongue out nice and far as he let's it graze your top lip.

He pushes deep into your mouth before grabbing your throat. You try not to splutter around him, relaxing and taking as much as he's giving.

"Go ahead then, if you think you can handle it." The words shoot straight to your core, and you eagerly begin pumping your mouth up and down his erect penis.

"Good Little cock sucker, this is what I married you for." His grip runs up to your hair, grabbing a chunk of it in his hands as he follows your movements around his cock.

"You look so pretty on your knees for me like that," he says, pulling your mouth over his entire cock and keeping him there. "I'm gonna make you feel so good later, baby, just you wait."

He continues like that, using his grip to masturbate with your mouth, moaning and groaning at your touch until your ready to feel his cum shoot down the back of your throat.

His release doesn't come though, and instead he's pulling your head off and discarding you below him. Climbing onto the bed, you eagerly watch him as he takes a seat, making himself comfortable and not even sparing a glance your way, still sat on your knees on the floor, spit and tears decorating your face, eyes wild with lust.

"I'm not getting on my knees for you, princess. If you want me to pleasure you, you're going to have to climb right into my lap yourself."

His explanation had your legs snapping shut as you squeeze them together, desperate for release.

You do as you're told once again, climbing onto the bed and crawling into the generous space he's made between his legs.

He positions you where he wants you, your back to his chest as he used his large hands to press your legs wide.

"That's it, open wide for me princess."

"What are you, a horny dentist?" You laugh at his words, but he grabs your jaw and tilts it up to him, capturing your lips in a rough embrace. The air doesn't return to your lungs until he touches your cunt, and then it comes in a sharp gasp that leaves your head spinning.

Maybe it's him that's actually having that affect.

"You like that? You like me rubbing your little dripping pussy through your panties? Y/N, I'm not even touching you directly." The words are matter-of-fact, like he's astounded you're so fucking wet for him, but not shocked, knowing how much of a dirty little whore you were for him.

His hands on you, the extra friction from your panties, his words in your ear, it's all too much as you find an orgasm rippling through your body, leaving you twitching as you ride it out on his fingers.

"Where do you keep your condoms?"

"I don't." He sighs in your ear, and you can feel him try to move himself so he can go and grab one from his bag or his car or somewhere even further from where you need him.

"Spenced, we're married." You whisper into his ear, nestling back further into his chest.

"What are you suggesting?"

"We're married, and it looks like we're staying married. I don't care where your nut goes as long as its inside me or painted over my body."

He pushes you onto the bed on your back then as he pushed his remaining clothing off, taking yours with it while he's at it. His grabs the base of his cock, and the pre-cum dribbles out. You watch with all the hunger of a wolf seeing a rabbit, desperate to have him inside you one way of another.

"That's it, slide your cock into my PUSSY, Spencer. Put it right where it belongs."

Your pleas fall on deaf ears, as he uses the top of his cock to press against your clit, not bothering to enter you just yet.

"What's wrong with this? Aren't I still getting you off like this? Not risking anything letting my cock sit here, letting myself cream on this beautiful mound." His words and motions on your clit are too much and you cum again the teasing is so good.

In your bleary daze, he finally pushes into you, and you scream his name at the contact.

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. God Spencer, you feel so good, so big for me." Gratitude is the only thing running through your mind, thankful as you are to have him buried deep.

His thrusts are hard, fast and wet, and you hear them every step of the way as he spits down to the place you connect. You moan desperately, unable to form words by now as he snaps his hips into you violently, taking and taking and taking.

But soon, it's his turn to give, and he's asking where he should be doing it.

"Want my cum inside of you? Want it right here?" His hands fall to the bulge in your stomach, to the place where you can feel him pushing into and pulling out of you, the place where you can feel him grazing your walls.

"Those other types of orgasm, I'm gonna give them all to you. I'm going to clamp your nipples and eat you out so you associate the pain with pleasure. I'm going to put a vibrator on your clit and leave you tied up until you've soaked the sheets. I'm going to pump you do full of cum that it's dripping from every whole on your body. I'm going to fuck you in the office and see how many people find out. Is that how you like it?"

You try to hold it back, to prologue the pleasure, but you csnt and it rips through you, your juices pushing out of you in a shudder, soaking Spencer's cock as he lifts your leg and deepens his angle.

"How do you feel better than I remembered?" He moans as he begins shooting his load into you, cumming in you with a deep moan, locking his lips against that same spot on your neck.

Maybe it's the post-nut clarity, maybe it's just the words that accidentally ripped from his mouth, but you're suddenly wide awake, the cloud of lust that had been shading you vanishing in an downpour of rain.

He pulls out of you with a kiss to your lips and runs to the bathroom to grab you something to wash up with. He returns cheerfully, and begins his work, but you grab his hand and stop him as the realisation hits you.

"Y/N, I'm almost finished, just let me clean you up."

"What did you mean? When you said I felt better than you remembered?"

He stills, trying to search for the right words to say. He obviously doesn't find them, because he evades his eyes and continues cleaning you up, not answering.

"Spencer, do not fucking ignore me. What did you mean?"

"I'm sorry." That's all he says, and you feel bile rise in your throat. He kneels between your legs and runs a hand through his hair, discarding the washcloth and putting some distance between the two of you.

"You're sorry?! Spencer, look at me right now." It takes him a minute, but he finally meets your gaze.

"Spencer, how long has it been since you remembered everything?" You try to hope, to wish this was all a misunderstanding, that he was going to tell you right after he cleaned you up, but you interrupted him.

"Y/N, I have an eidetic memory…" The way his voice cracks finally has tears welling in your eyes. "I never forgot. How could I?"

The wind ripples into the window, and as the temperature drops so does your heart. It falls to the floor and shatters into pieces as you discover his lie.

"I think you should go. Go home." You say, as a tear finally escapes your eye, your stomach turning with the discovery that he really was too good to be true.

"Y/N, please-"

"No. I want to be alone, let me… let me think, please."

"Y/N, really, I think we should-"

"Get out!" You shout, and that when your body starts heaving in sobs as you pick up anything near that you can find to gather up around yourself. The strength of your outrage, the display of emotions temporarily startles Spencer into supplication, and he gathers his clothes quickly.

You sob watching him move around the busy space, you sob as he turns around to try to speak again, abandoning each attempt. You sob the hardest when he leaves, and you are alone in your apartment with all the weight of his dishonesty pushed upon you.

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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♟️ Please, Let Me Know That It's Real ♟️

Chapter 10 of That's What You Get

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Emily and Penelope take care of you after Spencer's dishonesty comes to light. They help you fill in some missing pieces of the puzzle that is your relationship.

Warnings: angst, but hopeful angst. Spencer is an idiot. No, you don't find out who the other witness is yet.

A/N: We're so close to the end 😭 I'm feeling bittersweet about this one because I'm excited to wrap it up but I also don't want to!!! It's been so fun to write. There are two chapters left after this, so please stay tuned for those ♥️ You can find my main masterlist here, and my special kinktober masterlist here if you missed the smut in this one. My requests are open until the end of the month too, so of you had any ideas, let me know!

There were no words to describe how you felt wasting away in bed that next day. You couldn't say whether a minute passed, or an hour passed or if time had simply ceased when he'd left. You just knew that there was a weight pressing down into your heart, a grief filling your lungs and stuttering your breath.

You had the vague sensation of someone entering your apartment, wrapping their arms around you and telling you that you'd be okay before you drifted off into a coma-like sleep. Instead of escaping everything, though, you had to relive it all, again and again.

You'd woken up chained to that bed again and he was there telling you how guilty and horrible he felt, and you'd practically shoved the words into his mouth. But he hadn't told you he didn't remember.

You'd woken up in his bed again, and he still wasn't there, trying to avoid you getting your memories back, the one thing you were trying to work towards together.

You'd woken up in his arms, walking you back towards his bed as you were telling him you remembered. The gleam in his eyes though wasn't excitement, happy to receive any news about what could've happened before, but fear. What did you remember, and would you figure out he'd been lying?

You'd woken up a mess, and you wanted to go right back to sleep.

When you finally did come to, the tears that had dried against your skin began to Spring again, the sobs silently wrecking your body as you disappeared under the darkness of your comforter.

Spencer had known. He'd known the entire time about everything that had happened, he'd practically told you as much from the very beginning. But he'd also let you assume that he didn't, and you weren't sure if you were angrier at him or yourself. Something happened on your wedding night, beside the intimacy, that he obviously didn't want you to remember, having gone to such great lengths to hold you at an arm's distance away whilst embracing you tightly. Parts of your body still held traces of him, and you were too emotionally exhausted to drag yourself out of bed to wash him away.

You wanted to call him. You wanted to make him come back and explain, and beg for forgiveness, or tell you it had been some kind of horrific miscommunication. You wanted to never see him again.

Penelope bought food, and Emily got you cleaned up, pulling you into the bathroom and wiping the tears from your face as she ran a bath for you, helping your shivering form into it. You hadn't called or texted either of them, but you didn't question their appearance until after you'd eaten, feeling a little less broken.

"How did you know?" The two of them looked at each other over the food on the table, unable to hide the worrying glances they were sending each other.

"Spencer. He texted me, asked me to check in on you." Penelope explained, and you're heart cracked hearing his name.

"Of course he did." You hated that even when you were supposed to hate him, he was still intent on taking care of you. You'd excused yourself from their company and climbed back into bed, grateful that neither woman had tried to stop you. They did follow you though.

"Wait, Y/N. Spencer told us you needed us, but he didn't tell us what happened. Maybe talking about it would help." They sat carefully on opposite edges of your bed, waiting for you to un-cocoon yourself and talk.

The first few attempts, you couldn't make it, too close to shattering to pieces again. With a gentle squeeze of your hand and a encouraging nod, you started telling them about the night before.

"I chased after him yesterday and I caught him in the parking lot. And he never takes his car, but he was there and I thought it was some kind of sign." You sniffled and pulled the quilt off your face some more, sitting up to continue what you knew would probably be a long story.

"We finally acknowledged everything and… God, I think I told him I love him. I do, and that's why it's all so shitty and ruined." Your throat grew thick with the pain and fluttering, memories from the night before seeping into you and grabbing a hold.

"I told him I remembered, finally. He asked me how much, and I just kept trying to flirt with him. I didn't realize anything was wrong until after we'd…" You flushed, shy all of a sudden as you felt all the shame of the previous night's interactions.

"He said some things in the heat of the moment… he said I felt better than he remembered."

"Y/N, that doesn't sound so bad, that's just-"

"He wasn't supposed to remember. Neither of us were supposed to remember, fuck I think we would've been happier if we hadn't." You shut your eyes, the lights suddenly sparking a pain behind your eyes as your tears stung.

"He didn't forget anything about Vegas. I think maybe it's my fault for assuming he did, because he just went ahead and reminded me of his stupid fucking eidetic memory."

You let your head fall back to the pillow again and curse yourself, the extended cut of the last three weeks flickering to life in your head again.

"Y/N…" Penelope started taking a gentle hand and patting your head as she struggled to find the words to comfort you.

"Y/N, this is not the end of the world." Emily was blunt in her words and for a second they snapped you out of your self imposed pity party. "I thought he'd rejected you, or served you divorce papers or something."

The anger crept up in you quickly as you shut your ears to what Emily was saying.

"God, Emily, it's not that fucking easy you know.

"How would you know? Did you try to listen to him? Ask him why he did it?" You snapped your mouth shut, still angry but momentarily softened to the words she was saying.

"Look, it's not like he confessed his love for me. He fucked me and then I caught him in a lie." You were exasperated at having to explain your emotions again and again but this time the wound had been ripped raw. He hadn't said those last words.

"Oh, sweetie. That's what this is all about, isn't it? You think he held back because he doesn't love you?" Emily's tone had softened completely and you found yourself suddenly shaking with tears, unable to answer, just nodding your head back and forth while you contained the loud echoes of pain from escaping your body.

"I need to stop starting sentences with 'don't hate me, but', but this time I think it's absolutely necessary." Penelope squeaked the other words from your other side and you drew yourself up again to hear her out.

"Penelope, you're here making sure I am still breathing while I'm in the middle of an entirely selfish crisis. I think if I even thought about you negatively, a puppy would die or something."

"Save that bravado for after this." She pulled out her phone then and scrolled through it for a second, searching for something. "Now I need you to know that I only withheld this in the hopes that I could play it at your actual wedding, where I would obviously be maid-of-honour, but as that plan has backfired I think I need to show you it now."

She handed you the phone, and you noticed a video was playing. The camera was shaky, so it took you a few minutes to figure out what it was you were looking at.

The Elvis impersonator was the thing that tipped you off to the fact that this was probably your wedding venue. Sure enough, when the camera focused, zoomed in a bit, there the two of you were.

"We're going to do the ring exchange now, if you'd like to repeat after me-" discount, slightly rotund Elvis said in a horrendous accent, but he wasn't allowed to finish.

"We can do our own vows, right? That's allowed?"

"For the amount of money you're paying me, you could consummate the marriage right here and I wouldn't give a damn." Your past self in the video had flushed at that, and you were glad that you hadn't jumped at the chance the way you had in the hotel room.

Spencer brushed it off, clearing his throat and starting again. “Y/N, I don’t remember when I started loving you, which is absolutely ironic because I remember everything else. I think I just woke up one day and knew that I’d either spend my life watching you, or take this final leap to have you. Don’t look at me like that, I’m being serious, we’re getting married.”

Your grin was wide, genuine happiness setting you alight. The two of you giggled a little bit before a glare from Elvis's direction led you to believe that his generosity only extended so far.

“Let me try again. What I’m trying to say is, you’re too good for me. And I love you so much it aches. Everytime you say anything I’m caught hanging on any word. Every time you mention a book you’ve enjoyed, I read it cover to cover 50 times that week. Every time you tell me something stupid, like what your favorite flower is, I get this overwhelming urge to… to buy myself some flowers, so that if you ever turned up at my house, they’d be there waiting for you.”

“I don’t know if you’ll remember this in the morning, or if I’ll be too scared to remind you, but I love you Y/N. And I’ll keep loving you no matter what happens.” His hands were gripped so tightly around your waist that he'd had to whisper some of the last words into the air between you, the space suddenly so narrow.

You stopped the video there, throwing the phone back at Penelope, ready to bask in your idiocy, but she didn't let you.

"You need to watch it all, come on, mother knows best." You rolled your eyes at her and sat yourself straighter again, taking the phone from her again and pressing play as Emily looked over your shoulder, watching too.

It was your turn for the vows.

“Spencer Reid. If I don’t remember how much I love you now in the morning, if I somehow manage to ignore this absolute feeling of bliss and rightness, I need you to fight for me. I need you to remind me how much I love you. I need you to remind me how we ended up here. I need you. I’ll never stop needing you.” The video had ended seconds after that, Spencer having lunged for you with both hands pulling your lips into his as he sealed the deal with a kiss. One you could swear you still felt tingling against your lips.

"I paused it there because I didn't want to see if you'd take Elvis up on his deal." You heard Penelope's words but didn't register them, not really.

"He didn't… He didn't fight for me." Your words weren't sad, but they obviously weren't the words either woman was expecting.

"Y/N, did you not hear him? He loves you!" Emily almost shook you to wake you up from whatever daze you were in, but you were throwing your sheets off in a second and scrambling out of bed.

"He didn't even tell me. Oh my god… I'm going to…" You ran a stray hand through your hair as you let out an incredulous laugh, not believing any of the last twenty four hours. Your next move was to lunge for your own phone, dialing his number before you could be stopped. Penelope did try though, before Emily out a warning hand on her shoulder, interested to see where it was you were going with this.

"Spencer," you said into the receiver when he finally picked up. A single ring and he was there like he'd been waiting for you this entire time.

"Y/N, I love you, I'm sorry." The words caught in his throat and his voice was weak but they made your heart skip a beat nonetheless. You hoped none of that reflected in your voice at all.

"Spencer, I want to see you. Now." He barely had time to agree before you were hanging up, turning around with a half manic laugh again as you begin pulling yourself together.

"Emily, Pen, thank you for everything but-"

"You don't have to explain, I think we were just leaving actually." Emily smiled up at you, confident that you knew what you were doing.

"No, no wait, please explain! I need an explanation, Y/N, what-"

"If you'll excuse us." Emily guided Penelope swiftly out of the door and you were suddenly once again alone in your apartment.

Pulling yourself together. You'd had a bath but you still felt groggy, so you hopped in the shower and thought about the time Spencer had taken a bullet for you. It had really only grazed his vest, but he'd been the one to grab you and change your positions so you were safe nonetheless. He'd done it and you'd never been sure why.

You sat and dried your hair and contemplated. He'd helped you with countless case files ove the years. The others had joked before by putting their work on his desk, knowing he'd have it completed for them, serious or not. He'd only ever voluntarily taken files from your desk though. He'd said it was because he could do them quicker, but that was always a none answer.

You picked your outfit out carefully as you thought about all the times you'd woken up with a blanket covering you after a nap on the jet. You'd seen JJ wrap them around team members before and just assumed it had been her, but now you weren't so sure.

You stood at the door looking down at a message that said he was almost here and you thought about the last few weeks. And you thought about how much he loved you, and how much you definitely loved him and you waited at the door, engagement ring sitting on your hand as you waited for him to knock.

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