#Volvo 122 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year ago

Text

Midnight | Chapter 15 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - you and Spencer spend time with other people which ends up bringing you closer together. Meanwhile, Garcia makes a discovery.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - Spencer and reader with other people, oral (m receiving), murder, swearing, penetrative sex, protected sex, angry Spencer, fingering, suicide mentions, mentions of miscarriage, tears.

WC - 4.6k

Chapter 15 - The Haunting

Penelope Garcia looked at the confusing information on her screen with a heavy frown furrowing her forehead. The information wasn’t wrong, she knew that wasn’t possible, but it didn’t mean it made any sense.

On Sunday JJ had gone to try and see Spencer again and had noted he had mail piling up as though he hadn’t been home for a while. She also couldn’t find his car anywhere. On Monday, armed with the information, Emily had reluctantly agreed to let Garcia put out an APB on Spencer’s missing vehicle.

It was now Thursday and the team had just arrived back from a case in Chicago. Still frowning at the screen, Penelope printed the information before hurrying out of her bat cave and down the corridor to where everyone had just returned to the bullpen.

Emily noticed the confusion on the tech analyst's face immediately and frowned as the colourful woman headed her way in too high heels.

“Please don’t tell me we have another one?” Emily groaned, the rest of the team now looking at her.

“Uh not exactly. I, uh, I think I found boy wonder’s car.” She thrust the printout at Emily who took it and scrutinised it.

“What? Where?” JJ was quickly at her side.

“You found his car, but not him?” Tara frowned.

Emily sighed as she looked at the crime scene photographs of an entirely burnt out car surrounded by woodlands. Scanning the notes from the crime scene techs they had discerned the car had once been a canary yellow 1965 Volvo 122S Amazon. The exact same car Spencer drove.

“Where was this?” Emily looked up at Garcia.

“In the foothills of the Blue Ridge mountains. It’s been there for at least a week.” Garcia whimpered a little.

“What is it?” Luke came closer and plucked the sheet of paper from Emily's hand. “Shit.”

“Someone please share the information.” Rossi encouraged them.

“A car matching Reid’s was found burnt out in the woods near Franklin County, Virginia.” Emily informed them.

“Just the car?” JJ’s panic was evident in her voice.

“Just the car. No one was in it.” Garcia replied.

“Oh thank god.” JJ breathed.

“But that begs the question, where is Reid? And why was his car set alight?” Matt scratched the back of his head.

“And is Y/N with him?” Luke piped up.

Emily exhaled, looking at the report again before addressing her team.

“This isn’t an official case,” she regarded each of them individually. “If any of you don’t want to work this, you don’t have to.”

“We’re not going anywhere.” Rossi spoke for them.

“Agreed.” JJ nodded fiercely.

“JJ and Rossi will head out to the Franklin County crime lab and take a look at the car. Garcia, have a look and see if there are any rental car companies or used car lots within walking distance of where the car was found. We have to assume he’s ok and he would have needed another way home.” Emily instructed them.

“But if he’s not ok?” Tara dared to ask.

“The rest of you start calling local hospitals and see if anyone matching Reid’s description has been admitted in the last week.”

Everyone nodded in agreement at their assignments and started going their separate ways. Luke felt a pang in a gut, similar to one’s he’d been having since you’d called him from the pay phone in Illinois. Something didn’t feel right and he had a sense that it related to Spencer. He wasn’t sure why, but he was fairly certain if they found him, they would find you too.

***

Spencer stared at the light fitting hanging above his head, trying not to let himself get too distracted by the halos of light they created on the ceiling.

His mind wandered over the events of the last week without really meaning to. Since Sunday, when he’d killed Edward Grimes, he’d killed three more times.

On Monday he drove all the way out to Provo, Utah and murdered Burton Maxwell. On Tuesday he’d gone to Rock Springs, Wyoming and slit the throat of Jeremy Powell. Wednesday had taken him to Flagstaff, Arizona to take care of Harrison Baler.

In three days he’d clocked well over two and a half thousand miles in the little blue Nissan and despite all the blood he’d shed he didn’t feel satisfied.

Now it was Thursday and by this point he was exhausted, he couldn’t drive anymore even if he wanted to. Part of the reason he’d kept himself so busy was to limit time spent with you, because he despised the way his heart broke in his chest every time he looked at you. He left early each morning and returned after you were already asleep.

This morning was the first time you’d seen each other properly since Sunday morning and the air between the two of you was so awkward but he tried to ignore it when you found him in the kitchen.

“Oh hi stranger. Didn’t expect to see you.” You tugged at the hem of the oversized t-shirt, trying to cover your bare legs.

“Yeah, sorry I’ve had some business to take care of.” He shrugged, sipping his coffee.

“Right, of course.” You knew exactly what that meant.

“I was planning on hanging around today though, if you wanted to grab lunch somewhere or I could try that cooking thing again?” He shrugged, a feeble attempt at extending an olive branch.

“Uh, I can’t, sorry.” You moved past him toward the coffee machine.

“Have you not spent every waking minute with GI Mountain Man this week?” He tried to remain calm.

“Actually no, I haven’t done much of anything this week. Reading mostly. But then I finished my book so I went into town yesterday to buy some new ones and I bumped into Jesse and he asked if I wanted to spend the day with him.” You grabbed a mug and placed it under the spout of the machine.

“So I’m just old fucking news now right?” He grumbled.

“Spencer,” you spun back to face him with a frown. “I haven’t seen you for three days! You disappear on your vigilante mission without so much as a word and now you expect me to drop everything because you suddenly want to spend time with me?”

“Do what you want. I don’t care.” He spat, leaving a half finished cup of coffee on the counter and storming away.

He hadn’t seen you again after that and at some point he heard you leave the house. He spent a few hours pottering around the cabin but eventually he started to go a little stir crazy and took a walk into town.

He told himself he didn’t mean to go to Scout’s and scope out the checkouts but that was where he ended up. And low and behold he quickly spotted that head of fire engine red hair.

He and Mary got talking and he found out she got off work at six and before he’d known it he’d invited her over.

The noise echoed around the room, the slightly sloppy sounds of saliva and desperation. It had been some twenty minutes now and Spencer didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed a blow job less in his entire life.

He wasn’t even fully hard anymore, unable to maintain an erection due to the inexperienced mouth around his cock. She was trying, she was trying her best and he felt bad. But she just wasn’t very good.

Mary kept glancing up at him, questioning with her eyes what was wrong. Eventually Spencer threaded his fingers into her hair and tugged her off of him. A trail of spit led from her chin to the head of his cock and she wiped the back of her hand over her mouth.

“Am I doing something wrong?” She pouted, kneeling between his legs on the floor.

“I’m just not feeling it, I guess.” He offered her a smile, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her up until she was in his lap.

His large hand clutched the back of her neck and brought her closer to kiss her. His tongue roughly thrust inside of her mouth and she gasped into the kiss.

He started rolling his hips up between her legs, the friction working well to get him standing to attention again in no time. She wore a painfully short skirt despite the temperatures outside and he used his free hand to move her panties aside.

His cock nestled between her legs, already lining himself up when she suddenly pulled back from his lips.

“Hang on, one sec,” she blushed slightly, sliding off his lap and scurrying to her bag.

He knew what she was getting and he tried to not roll his eyes. She was being cautious, he kind of admired that about her. But Spencer was really not a fan of condoms.

She was soon coming back with the little purple packet and kneeling in his lap again. She fumbled in trying to tear it open, a pink hue on her cheeks as she fought with the packaging.

He was losing wood again, and he rolled his eyes, snatching it from her hands and making quick work of ripping it open. He had to pump his cock a few times before he could slip the condom on. He looked at Mary in his lap, her large green eyes full of embarrassment.

I can’t fucking look at you, he thought as he lifted her from his lap again and got her to her feet. She frowned as he led her to the side of the couch and bent her over the arm of it, burying her head in the sofa cushion.

He parted her legs and ran one finger through her folds to make sure she was wet enough for him not to hurt her too much. Pleased she was lubricated enough he lined himself up and soon plunged inside of her.

Mary yelped, jutting forward at the intrusion but he ignored her. He gripped her hips and started thrusting.

He closed his eyes and tried to imagine it was you but she felt nothing like you. He pictured your face, your smile, your beautiful eyes. He envisioned your perfect breasts, your goddamn delirious pussy.

But then he started to visualise your phenomenal body, as you climbed into the bed of another man. He pictured that bearded mountain man between your legs, eating you out, fingering you and then fucking you.

His thrusts were getting rampant and he ignored Mary’s grunts of pain, lost in his own thoughts. His blunt nails dug into her hips as she squirmed beneath him.

What the fuck has he got that I haven’t got? He’d never be able to fuck her the way I do, make her feel the way I do. He’s not better than me, he’s a fucking meat head mountain asshole. No, she’s mine, she’ll always be mine.

“Andrew!” A strangled voice pierced his ears, cutting through his violent thoughts.

He froze and looked down at Mary who had twisted her neck to look at him. Then his eyes cast downwards between their bodies where his completely flaccid cock, sheathed pathetically in the wrinkled condom, had slid out from between her legs.

He took a step backwards, feeling more exposed than he’d ever felt in his life. He angrily removed the condom and tossed it on the floor, tucking himself back inside his jeans and flopping to the couch.

Mary tugged down her skirt before coming to sit next to him. He wouldn’t look at her, he was too embarrassed.

“It’s ok,” she cooed. “It happens.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He grunted.

“A little.” She shrugged sadly.

“Well it doesn’t. Maybe if you were a better fuck, I wouldn’t have this problem.” He spat harshly.

Mary seemed to withdraw into herself at his words, her bottom lip pouting as he landed that blow to her ego.

“I’ve never had any complaints before.” She huffed, getting to her feet.

“That’s because the men you usually spread your legs for are young and inexperienced and wouldn’t know a good pussy if it was literally sitting on their cock.” He growled.

“Or maybe,” she spun back around, eyes wider than normal. “You can’t keep it up because you’re a goddamn old man!”

Spencer saw red and it had nothing to do with her flamboyant hair colour. He jumped to his feet and advanced on her, causing her to whimper as he backed her into the door.

“What did you say?” He spat at her.

“N-nothing.” She swallowed, her previous bravado vanished into thin air. “I’m sorry.”

“Get out of my house.” He snarled, taking a step back before he did something stupid. “Now.”

Mary whimpered again, quickly grabbing up her things and scurrying to the door like a frightened puppy. He watched her go and when she closed the door behind herself he fell back to the couch.

He was instantly flooded with remorse. None of this was Mary’s fault, he was the only one to blame. He’d pushed you into the arms of another man and now he had to suffer the consequences.

Mary was simply collateral damage in hurricane Spencer Reid’s path.

***

You’d spent the day with Jesse, walking in the sunshine, pursuing bookstores and drinking an ample amount of coffee in boutique cafes. He’d taken you to dinner and then you’d ended up back at his place.

The door was barely closed behind you before he was pushing you back against it and kissing you passionately. Whatever nerves he’d had the other day were well and truly gone now and that was confirmed when his hand slipped inside your pants soon after.

He plunged two fingers inside of you while his thumb rubbed your clit. You moaned against his lips, pushing your back up against the door. He was clearly not wasting any time and you were more than happy with that.

His lips trailed down your neck as he fingered you and you found the bulge in his pants and started stroking him through the fabric. He hissed into your skin, bucking against your hand.

“Fuck, I, uh,” he swallowed thickly. “It’s been a really long time, maybe we can just focus on you for now.”

You giggled, removing your hand from his erection and letting the feeling of his fingers inside of you wash over you.

You were clenching around his hand, your legs turning to jelly beneath you. You gripped his jaw and kissed him again.

“Should we take this away from the front door?” You panted.

“Uh huh, good idea.” He somewhat reluctantly removed his hand from inside your pants and then grasped your wrist, pulling you along to his bedroom.

You fell to the bed and your lips attached again. You helped each other out of your clothes until you were both completely naked. He rolled on top of you, fingers finding their way back between your legs. You looked him up and down and moaned slightly at the sight of him.

Almost every inch of skin on both arms from wrist to shoulder were covered in intricate and colourful tattoos. One continued over and down his chest, stopping just shy of his left nipple. You ran your nails along his ribs where another large tattoo was on display.

“You like them?” He smirked down at you, his fingers working deftly inside you.

“Hmm.” You hummed. “Very sexy.”

He chuckled and bowed his head to kiss you again. You felt his hard cock press against your leg and you were suddenly desperate for him.

“Jesse?” You panted into his mouth.

“Yes, Rose?”

“Please fuck me.” You whined, opening your legs and trying to nestle him between them despite the fact his hand was still there.

He laughed again, continuing to finger you for a few more seconds before he cautiously withdrew his fingers. He knelt over you and reached for the night stand, fishing out a condom. You chewed on your bottom lip as you stared at his hard abs and even harder cock as he ripped open the packet. But he seemed to grow a little hesitant as he rolled it on, hands shaking slightly.

“Fuck, sorry. I’m nervous. Is that weird?” He pulled a face.

“Not at all.” You tried to reassure him.

“I’m really sorry if I don’t last very long.” He positioned himself between your legs and you ran your fingers through his thick beard.

“Jesse, please just fuck me.” You laughed, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He laughed too, kissing you once more as he slowly edged inside of you. He wasn’t as big as Spencer but despite thinking he would be rusty, he certainly knew what he was doing.

He didn’t last all that long but it was ok because he still managed to make you come before he himself was pushed over the edge.

Afterwards you laid side by side in his bed in a mildly awkward silence. You had a feeling he wanted to say something and so you stayed quiet until he found his voice.

“So, uh,” he rolled his head to the side to look at you. “I was married once.”

“Oh.” You replied, not entirely sure what to say to that.

“I met a girl in my freshman year of college and we just fell so fast for each other. We got married when we were twenty one, she fell pregnant two months later. She miscarried really late into the pregnancy and she was never the same again. Her mental health declined day by day, she could barely leave the apartment to go to work. We tried medications and therapists and for a while it seemed to help.

I wanted to try for another baby but she didn’t. No matter how much time passed she wasn’t interested. Our marriage struggled, I really wanted kids. I’m pretty sure we were heading for divorce. We’d been married for seven years when I returned home from work one day and found her in the bathtub with her wrists cut. I can still picture it sometimes, the blood, the lifeless eyes. It haunts me.”

Your chest tightened to the point it was painful as you looked into the eyes of this wonderful man as he told you about his dead wife. He’d told you his relationship history was complicated but you’d not expected that.

“Jesus,” you breathed. “That’s horrible, I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” He shrugged. “I didn’t date for a really long time after that, not until I moved back to Butte. I met a woman who ran the Tin Cup Cafe in town and we hit it off. We dated for about a year until she told me one day that it bummed her out that I sometimes said my dead wife’s name in my sleep. She left town after that, I never saw her again.”

“Shit.” You reached for him, cupping his cheek softly in your hand. “When you said complicated I didn’t think you meant this complicated.”

“And to top it all off, now I’m falling for a married woman.” He sighed wistfully.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“I wish I had a choice.”

“Should I go?” You let your hand fall back to your side.

“I don’t know. I don’t want you to, but if you stay it might make it harder.” He smiled sadly.

“I like you, Jesse, I really do.” You confessed. “But I have no idea how long I’ll even be in Crested Butte for and there is still the matter of Sp…Andrew.” You mentally scalded yourself.

“If it’s just a marriage of convenience, why do you stay with him?”

“It’s…complicated. For lack of a better term.”

“I just told you about my wife’s suicide, I can handle complicated.” He took hold of your hand encouragingly.

“He’s my best friend.” You sighed, trying to pick your words carefully. “Something happened and we had to leave our jobs, our homes. We’re not really married.”

God Spencer would actually kill you if he knew you were telling anyone this.

“What do you mean?” Jesse frowned.

“We wear the rings, we say we’re married. But we’re not. It’s just easier somehow.”

He let go of your hand and looked at you curiously, cogs turning in his head.

“Are you like, in WITSEC or something?”

“Not quite that dramatic, but in a sense, I guess.”

“Is your name really Rose?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“No.”

“Can you tell me your real name?”

“No.”

“So I’m here falling for a woman who I thought was married, but really isn’t and I don’t even know your real name?” He looked at you in exasperation and god how you wished you’d kept your mouth shut. “Fuck, how is that somehow more complicated than my dead wife?”

“I’m sorry.” You rolled your lip between your teeth. “Maybe we shouldn’t have…this was a bad idea.”

He watched you roll over and scrabble to your feet, quickly trying to locate your clothes.

“You don’t have to go.” He spoke but he didn’t sound so sure.

“It’s best that I do.” You dressed hurriedly as he observed from the bed. “Please don’t tell anyone. Especially Sp…fuck…Andrew. Please.”

It made sense to him now why you always tripped over his name, you were hiding his real identity. But he hadn’t missed the look of fear in your eyes when you spoke about him.

“Is he threatening you? Does he hurt you?” He sat up, sounding panicked.

“What? No.” You were quick to answer.

“You said he was a bully.”

“He has a bit of a temper, but he’s not abusive or anything like that. Look, just forget I said anything, please? I really need you to drop this.”

He looked like he might argue but eventually he sighed and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“Can I walk you home?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks though.” You finished getting your clothes back on and slid your feet in your shoes.

He got up and gave you a kiss goodbye, but his eyes looked sad when he pulled away, stroking back your hair.

“This is over before it really began, isn’t it?” He whispered.

“I think it has to be. I can’t tell you who I am or where I’ve been, or even where I’m going. I’m sorry, I really am. But you deserve better than that.” You smiled sadly at him.

“Friends?” He smiled back.

“For sure.” You nodded, stepping backwards towards the door. “I’ll see you around.”

“I hope so.” He watched you slip from the room and listened to the sound of the front door opening and closing.

You hurried home, finding the cabin shrouded in darkness and thinking Spencer must have gone out, with Mary or to kill you weren’t sure.

You found the used condom discarded on the living room floor and rolled your eyes, knowing you couldn’t be hurt after what you’d spent your night doing. You left it there, it was his mess and he could clean it up.

You headed upstairs, ready to collapse and sleep for a week but as you trudged down the landing you noticed a small sliver of light emanating from under the bedroom door. Tentatively you pushed the door open, worried about what you might find. It was one thing to know he’d slept with someone else, another entirely to have to witness it.

But upon entering the bedroom, you found Spencer alone, curled up in a foetal position in the middle of the bed, still fully dressed. He hugged his legs to his chest and his face was buried into his knees.

The lamp on the nightstand illuminated his face and when he glanced up your heart constricted in your chest when you saw the tear stains on his cheeks. He sniffed and rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.

Wordlessly you kicked off your shoes and shucked off your jacket before padding over to the bed and dropping to the mattress. He straightened his legs and held his arms out which you curled into without hesitation.

He pulled you close, holding you tighter than you’d ever been held before. He buried his face into the crook of your neck and you could feel his scratchy stubble against your skin.

“Please never leave me.” He whimpered, his voice completely shattered. “I’m an ass, I’ve been so terrible to you. I don’t deserve you. But please don’t ever leave me.”

“Spencer,” you wrapped your arms around him as your own tears appeared out of nowhere and started cascading from your eyes. “I couldn’t leave you, even if I wanted to. Partners in crime, right?”

“Partners in crime.” He sobbed, holding you impossibly tighter. “He’ll never love you like I do, you know that right?”

“I know, Spence, I know.” You nodded, burying your head into his chest.

This was how you’d both eventually fall asleep, sobbing into each other's embrace. But something felt different, something had shifted but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what.

Perhaps it was an understanding that passed between you. You’d been fighting each other this whole time, pushing each other away as though that somehow might make this whole situation easier. If you weren’t so in love with one another, life would be so much simpler.

But falling for Spencer had happened without rhyme or reason and even if he never planned on catching you and you fell flat on your face, you would love him regardless.

Maybe he was right, Jesse never would love you like he did, maybe no one ever would. Certainly no one would understand the things you were capable of the way Spencer did. And that was both calming and haunting all at once.

"Come on in, boy" said the skeletons,

Sitting by her closet door.

Dirty secrets, empty memories,

And broken hearts across the floor.

I was knocked out, heels over head,

So you dragged me by my feet,

To a ghost town, where you buried me,

No wonder no one heard my screams.

Love's so alive, but it died in it's sleep,

And now that it's dead,

I live in your head,

And I will haunt your fucking dreams.