#a criminal and a ex criminal | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Emergency room [S. R] +18

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 12k

Summary: Spencer forgot to mention that you're still his emergency contact. You wouldn't have had a problem with it if you weren't his ex of over a year and the hospital took you out of the bed because he had a car crash

contents: exes to lovers, car accident, hospitals, mention of injuries (nothing graphic), mutual longing, SMUT, porn with plot, a little sub!spencer if you squint, penetrative sex (p in v), vanilla sex

Maybe there is a mistake with the grammar and pronouns, I swear I checked it the best I could but surely something escaped me! Enjoy :)

The ringing of your cell phone snapped you out of your hard-won reverie a few hours ago, and you sighed audibly into your pillow before opening your eyes. The device was somewhere on the nightstand, so it was enough to reach out and feel the wood a little to take it.

Virginia Hospital Center.

You hoped the caller ID was wrong, which was highly unlikely, and you swiped to take the call, wondering what it could be.

“Virginia Hospital Center, may I speak to Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?” With a shaky voice you answered in the affirmative and then the woman continued: "I am calling because you are the emergency contact on file for Mr. Spencer Walter Reid, who has just been admitted to the emergency room”

Hearing this, you jumped out of bed like a spring and felt how a chill ran through your entire body, a sign of the obvious panic that had just invaded you.

"What happened? He's fine?"

“He suffered a car accident and now he is being transferred to the operating room. It is imperative that you show up at the hospital so that you can account for any complications and can help us complete the information in his medical history."

The woman behind the phone was barely finishing saying that when you were already looking for your car keys and a decent change of clothes. You only took what you had in your bag before getting in your car and starting the engine to start the march, even with the adrenaline that you had coursing through your system. The hospital was a bit far away, so every time you accelerated too much you had to remind yourself that you could have an accident too, and then that would be the last straw. With that constant change of speed, you managed to get there in almost an hour, a little less than the time it would normally take, but still too long for your liking.

Somewhat agitated you rushed to the reception desk, where there was a nurse whose voice you recognized from the previous call. She had to reassure you a bit when you desperately asked her, almost with tears in your eyes, to tell you where Spencer was and what condition he was in.

“What relationship do you have with the patient?”

“I am his…” Your breath caught for a moment, thinking about whether it would be correct to tell the woman the truth or not; In the end, you decided to lie to her "girlfriend"

You and Spencer hadn't seen each other, at least not physically, for a little over a year. You often saw him on the news, in one or another now-forgotten photo that fell by accident from between the pages of your books, or in the articles on the internet about the conferences he gave; but you had never dared to contact him to go out, just as he hadn’t called again. You thought that eventually, you guys would meet again even if it was by chance, but you never imagined that it would be under these conditions.

“Can you help me answer a few questions?” she murmured and to each question she asked you answered almost mechanically. You were quite surprised that, even with the time that had already passed, you still remembered everything perfectly, as if it were your own medical information that you were providing.

The woman informed you, as kindly as she could be, that Spencer had already been in surgery for an hour and that when the doctor came out he could explain what had happened in more detail. You thought about the hit he had suffered to end up there and the anxiety of knowing if he was okay was eating away at your place in the waiting room, where you alternated between biting your nails and moving your leg up and down to calm down.

You wondered, meanwhile, why he still had you listed as an emergency contact. You knew he wasn't a person with many friends, but it sounded more practical for that position to be filled by someone he lived with more often, like Prentiss or Hotchner, not you. It wasn't the first time you'd been in a hospital with Spencer as a patient and you tried to remind yourself that those other times everything had gone well, but on those other occasions he'd always gotten immediate care because he'd been working or it was simple things like a cold that had become too bothersome. You wondered how far he had crashed, how long it had taken the ambulance to get there, how much pain he had experienced. You were really worried, until after half an hour that seemed like an eternity you heard the nurse call you and a doctor appeared next to her.

The first thing you asked, with a trembling voice, was if he was okay, and when you felt the doctor's soft nod you felt your soul return to your body. Then he explained everything that had happened in greater detail: Spencer had been hit from the side by a drunk driver who had entered at the same time as him and who, unfortunately, hadn’t survived. The surgery had been delayed because Spencer had a stab wound to his leg, dangerously close to the femoral artery and at risk of bleeding, as well as multiple pieces of glass buried deep in his torso, which punctured muscle and could damage vessels, nerves, and tendons. He had made the emergency call before falling unconscious and the doctor in front of you emphasized that if it hadn't been for the speed of the report things could have ended worse.

"Right now he is in intensive care, you can come in to see him until he wakes up"

"And how long will that take?"

“It varies from patient to patient. I can't give you an exact answer, but it won't be for another hour or two”

You warmly thanked the doctor for the job done and somewhat disappointed, but definitely calmer, you returned to your seat in the waiting room. You asked if you could stay there the rest of the night even if it wasn't on his side and the woman agreed. A little less upset, you searched in the hospital for a place to prepare coffee and after obtaining a well-charged one you waited again.

At some point you curled up in the chair and after an hour, and the fact that the coffee had no effect on you at all, you had already fallen asleep. Luckily your sleep was light, so you could clearly hear when a new nurse murmured your name and said that she would guide you to where Spencer was, who had woken up a few minutes before. During the walk down the corridor, she warned you that in intensive care only visits of less than an hour were allowed and when you entered the room full of stretchers protected only by curtains, she took you to one almost at the end, indicating that your patient was there.

You didn't go in immediately, because you needed to get some air first to gather the courage to do it, and when you finally did, a sea of feelings flooded you. Spencer looked fatigued and a little pale. His eyelids were closed and if it hadn't been for the heart monitor next door emitting soft, continuous beeps, you would have thought he was already in a better place.

Carefully you approached a chair right next to the stretcher and once seated there you remained silent for a moment, until you felt the need to hold his hand as a way of comforting yourself, as if you were closer this way. Said action didn’t go unnoticed by the man, who, when he slightly opened his eyes, believed that his mind was vilely deceiving him, and a second later your name left his lips as a scratchy and confused whisper.

"Hello" was all you managed to say, holding back the tears that had already pooled on your lashes. "How are you feeling?"

“I feel like everything around me is spinning”

With a little more confidence, and so that he wouldn't strain his eyes, you approached the edge of the bed, still not letting go of his hand.

"The doctor said you really had a bad accident"

"The other man? He is…?"

"Dead" you completed in a whisper, completely admiring your friend's pure spirit that allowed her to worry about who caused him to be there "He was drunk when he hit you and they couldn't do much"

"Oh," was all Spencer said, with a genuine tone of pity. You didn't know what to say, or even what to do, you were just looking at him as closely as possible to reassure yourself that he was okay and with his whole body. Your hand hadn't let go and he seemed comfortable with it.

"Do you want me to call someone?"

"A doctor?"

"To a friend"

"They..." Reid still looked disoriented, as if he couldn't even remember the conditions in which he had the accident, and when he finally got his thoughts together, he looked back at you, "Why are you here?"

“I am your emergency contact”

It took him a moment, again, to process the words. When he was aware of the situation, he closed his eyes tightly as if he had done something terrible, and looked at you with shame.

"I'm so sorry"

"Don't you want me here?"

"What? No! Of course I want you here. It's just that I didn't want to bother you with this, I… I thought I'd change that information when I found a better candidate and I never did, so months went by and I… forgot. Well, I didn't forget, but I didn't want to change it because I didn't think it would be necessary and right now I think I should have discussed it with you and I never did, so I'm sorry. Are you upset?”

“Spencer, relax,” you exhaled gently, rubbing your fingers over the back of his hand “There's no problem staying here, I just want to know if you need me to call someone. They didn't let me stay here for long."

“Call Hotch. I want to let him know that I'm taking a vacation."

It was difficult for him to keep his eyes open continuously, probably from the remaining effects of the anesthesia, so you just nodded and did as he asked. Spencer listened to the entire conversation in which you explained what had happened and even answered some of his boss's questions himself, assuring him that he was as well as he could be after an accident of this magnitude. Aaron also promised that the team would visit him as soon as possible, and he asked you to keep in touch, with an odd familiarity that made you smile.

After finishing the call, you returned to your chair and leaned over to brush his hair off his forehead, taking the opportunity to caress his face carefully. Spencer, still with his eyes closed, smiled at the touch.

“You cut it” you observed “Are you still doing it yourself?”

"Yes, still"

You smiled at him and he smiled back, but neither of you said anything else. There would be time to answer questions later.

Although he seemed to be asleep, he was aware that you were by his side for another long time, and when you said goodbye you promised that you would return there as soon as you could.

The next morning, after taking a shower and calling work that you had an emergency, you kept your promise. Spencer seemed a bit more recovered on this second visit; his color had returned to his cheeks, he was almost sitting on the bed and could basically keep his eyes open for more than ten seconds at a time. The doctor had told you that he would stay there for observation for the rest of the day and once he moved to a general room you could be with him for as long as you wanted. For now, you would have to make do with that sixty-minute visit.

"Do you feel better?"

"Not really. But I'm not complaining, it could be worse” he replied, settling better on the bed and wincing.

“I told the doctors no… I asked them not to give you Dilaudid” you confessed, with a bit of fear of his reaction “No type of morphine, in fact. They told me that they could substitute another analgesic, but that you would feel a little more pain than you normally would. Still, I insisted. I hope you don't mind"

“The doctor told me. And I appreciate it,” he murmured sincerely. He couldn't describe the ease he felt when he found out about it, for he had been drug-free for too long to mess it up by carelessness. Luckily, he had you.

"How have you been, by the way?" you shyly exclaimed, taking a step closer to him "I don't mean right now, but... during this time"

"Relatively well" he replied, inviting you with his eyes to sit in the same chair you had been a few hours ago. In doing so you hoped that he would develop a more complete answer than just two words and then he began to relate to you some events significant enough to deserve a mention.

One of the things you'd always loved about Spencer was hearing him talk, whether it was for a minute or an hour. With other people he talked fast, afraid someone would ask him to shut up, but with you he always took his time. In his words there was no sign of spite towards you, even when you thought you deserved it, always showing the beautiful heart that he harbored in that chest.

“I have also been giving conferences more often and that makes me happy. Many of the people there don't understand what I'm talking about, but those who do always come up and ask me questions. Sometimes Emily or Rossi accompany me and other times I go alone. Oh, and I'm taking a PhD."

"Another?" you said surprised, although you didn’t doubt his ability.

"I've been kind of bored, if I'm honest" was his poor explanation from him. You wanted to remind him that no one went into PhDs just because they were bored, but he was a genius you were talking to.

You didn't dare to confess to him that you had been watching some of his labor movements, but just knowing again a little about the things that were happening to him made you feel good.

“Have you been alright?” he continued, looking genuinely interested in hearing your answer.

“I have been able to defend myself, yes. Do you remember when I told you about asking for a promotion? Well, it finally happened a few months ago and the extra money has been doing me good. I have a little more work freedom, too, and I'm considering moving”

“Where do you plan to move to?”

You explained some of the options you had in mind and after hearing each one he helped you learn about some of the pros and cons in terms of costs, services, and security in the area. You would have continued your talk if it hadn't been for a nurse coming in. She was the same one that had received you the night before and you smiled kindly when you recognized her.

"Good morning, how are you feeling, Mr. Reid?" she asked, as she maneuvered to change the IV pole bag.

“Better than yesterday, definitely”

"You don't have to worry, you will recover soon"

"I hope so" he smiled.

“You gave your girlfriend quite a scare, that's for sure,” she teased, nodding her head in your direction.

You tensed at that, and if you had been an ostrich, you would have buried your head in the ground. Spencer watched you from the stretcher with a little smile and answered something you didn't understand to the nurse. They exchanged another couple of sentences until she was gone, saying goodbye cordially to both of you.

"Did she misread the situation or is there something here I'm missing?" he asked you once you were alone, looking genuinely amused.

“Okay, I admit it, maybe I lied a bit last night. I thought they would have more compassion and trust in a girlfriend than an ex-girlfriend"

"And your real boyfriend isn't going to be upset if you're here taking care of me?"

Ever since you met him you could say that if Spencer lacked a quality, it was subtlety and now he himself was showing it. You knew that there was enough trust for him to tease you like that, but you also knew that asking about your love life was some kind of revenge for having lied to the staff and so you decided to humor him.

"No, he isn’t very jealous to say. On the contrary, he is open-minded and right now we are trying to have an open relationship. You know, I see some people, he sees others, but we still have our thing."

Spencer's previously mocking expression immediately changed upon hearing you say that, having no idea how he would be wise to react. But you couldn't stand it for a long time and you burst out laughing, clarifying between laughs that you were only joking.

“Well, even so, it is likely that at some point in your life you could be in such a relationship, there are even those who think that it is healthy and mature when both people agree”

“It's not quite my style. I prefer safe monogamy or if the guy is very stupid, the sex without commitment for a single night” you laughed slightly.

The deadline for the visit had already expired and with all the sadness you had to say goodbye to him, promising that you would return as soon as he came out of intensive care.

“You've done a lot for me, but it's okay if at some point you're too busy to come, okay? I will understand"

"Don't talk nonsense" you exclaimed firmly, while you leaned down enough to give him a hug without hurting him. Suddenly a new concern invaded you and you felt that you had to ask him a question that you had omitted: "Unless you have a psycho girlfriend who is after my head, do you?"

"Do you think if that was the case, I wouldn't have mentioned it already?" he muttered obviously and now it was your turn to smile.

You didn't want a nurse to come in to get you out of there by force so you took your things and looked at your ex-boyfriend one last time to wave goodbye.

You always thought that when a relationship ended it was because either party had made a serious mistake: “I slept with your best friend”, “my family secretly hates you”, or “it turns out I'm still too in love with my ex to love you”. But when you decided to break up with Spencer, you found that that formula didn't apply to everyone.

Perhaps it was an unfortunate combination of situations, feelings, and problems that led to things simply stopping working overnight. You didn't know how to explain it, none of you, but you guys couldn't even kiss the same way you used to. Your work exhausted you, his work exhausted him, and in the end it was you who decided for both of us that things would be better if everyone took their own path. This isn’t to say that the breakup was less painful, it was just that the hope of being able to have a friendship after it made the grief more bearable. But none of you was able to forget what had happened to pretend to be friends and so, little by little, you stopped seeing each other. Over a year passed with neither of you discussing the silent breakup and, though you and he couldn't have known it, even your respective group of friends suffered a little from the pain of parting from a couple they'd swear would walk down the aisle.

That was why a part of you was guiltily glad that you could see him again and that things weren't at all awkward, like you always imagined they would be. It was your same Spencer, just a little teasing and with less hair, but other than that he had barely changed. He still had those kind eyes that once saw you as if you were the most beautiful person on earth.

You took advantage of the way home in your car to think about everything that was happening to you and for a moment you wondered if with Spencer's recovery all relationship with you would end up withering like a flower with the arrival of autumn or would be reborn as they do in spring.

"I don't even know why we're playing, we both know you're always going to win" you complained, throwing your pathetic poker hand onto the bed sheet, as he laughed.

The hospital called you when Spencer was admitted to the general ward and you had stayed with him ever since. There was a television in the room, but you knew that he was not a big fan of technological entertainment, so before coming back you decided to take as many things as you needed so that you could kill time; a few books, a deck of cards, a book full of word scrambles and crossword puzzles you'd picked up at a newsstand on the way, and even a blank notebook that could do multiple jobs.

He would stay there for about a week (the doctor explained that it all depended on how fast he healed) and that morning you had gone to talk to your boss at the office to ask her for a couple of days so you could stay with him. You still had a week of vacation available and although he felt extremely guilty you insisted on staying there, after all no one from the BAU could leave their post for that long. In addition, urgent or essential things could be done from home and it was enough to connect for a couple of hours from your laptop to solve them.

Spencer hadn't told you, but he felt comfortable having company during his stay there. Hospitals weren’t his favorite places and having such a familiar presence comforted him.

"I'll let you win once if it makes you feel better"

"If you wanted me to feel better you should have done it without telling me, now I know you were just being silly" you huffed, shuffling the cards with both hands.

"It's all about math, it's really not that complicated"

“Why have you never thought about betting big in casinos? You're from Vegas, you must know a lot. And you could become a millionaire with it."

“It is illegal, in fact, and I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump because of my card-counting ability. So sorry to disappoint you, but those plans wouldn't work."

“A wasted talent. What a pity” you sighed, starting to hand out a new game.

While you were doing that, a nurse came into the room carrying a tray with food and your friend's eyes sparkled, because being fed intravenously for a day and a half hadn’t been very to his liking. When he put it down in front of you, you noticed that everything looked appetizing considering it was hospital food, and after thanking the man he took the dessert and spread it in your direction.

“You don't like Jell-o anymore?

"Yeah, but I know it's your favorite," he added, shrugging and starting to eat the main course voraciously.

"I'm not going to take advantage of a sick person"

“You aren’t taking advantage. I'm giving it to you" with a smile you put the dessert on the nightstand, ready to return it to him if he wanted it later, and as seeing him eat your own hunger woke you up, you told him you'd go out for a moment to look for something.

You were surprised that across the corridor, at the reception, there was a group of people that you recognized immediately. Morgan was the first to notice you and had to turn twice to make sure his brain wasn't playing tricks on him. Then he motioned to Garcia, who was holding a bouquet of flowers and a balloon, and she waved her hand in your direction with a huge smile.

“Are you really who I think you are?” he asked, once they approached you.

"It seems so" you laughed, under the watchful and surprised gaze of almost everyone present.

The team greeted you with hugs, seeming genuinely happy to see you around and asking about the status of your mutual friend. You related all the medical details of the accident, the care they had taken and in the same way you told them that you had been there throughout the entire process.

"And how is he now?"

“He is fine, just a little sore. But the worst is over, the doctor says he will recover soon”

"It's a relief that everything was quick, I don't even want to think about what would have happened if the doctors didn't arrive on time"

"Do you think we can stop by to see him?"

"He'll be delighted, I assure you" you answered happily "He's in room 501, I'll come back to you as soon as I find something to eat"

Everyone thanked you and set out to find the room, except for Aaron who stayed in the hallway so he could talk to you.

"How has everything been?"

"Okay, as far as that goes," you smiled, arms crossed over your chest, "How's Jack?"

"Growing up" was all he said and you didn't need more to know what he meant "I just wanted to tell you that the plan is to stay here for a few hours, in case you want to come home and rest"

Although you didn't often see him, Hotch had always been particularly nice to you when you were the boy's girlfriend, and he had also tried to cheer the man up when he found out about the breakup: he was especially fond of both you and him.

“Oh, thank you very much for that, Aaron. I was going to go get something to eat, but I don't have much of an appetite for fast or canned food, so I could probably eat at home and come back."

"Do what you have to do. We'll be here,” he assured you.

"You're not going to ask Spencer to go back to work, are you?"

"I won't ask him, I'll be lucky if I convince him not to do it" you giggled to see that Spencer was still the same stubborn person as always, and you thought about whether it would be correct to ask your ex-boyfriend's boss a personal question. You had always seen someone strong in him, of course, but he also had a gentle and understanding part.

"He told me that he's been fine, but… has he really been?"

You wanted to hear from someone else how he had been, because you knew that it was likely that the chestnut omitted the bad parts of the story just to not worry you.

"I don't know what can be considered ‘fine' in Reid's life. He has kept up his spirits and as far as I know his mother is doing well. He doesn't drink, he doesn't smoke, and even though I've insisted on it, he refuses to see a therapist, but I guess he finds another way to deal with the problems. There have been bad days, but he always gets over it” you felt calm when you heard that and you nodded with a smile.

“He is always like that. It makes me happy that he has you"

"Sometimes he's not that happy" he sighed, probably with some important background for those words "But in the end it's like in all families, right?"

"I think so" you smiled bitterly. He was watching you carefully, trying to read your micro-expressions as much as possible. After all he was a profiler, that was his job. "Then I'll go home quickly and come back as soon as possible, okay?"

“Good luck, drive carefully”

"It was nice to see you again, Hotch."

Spencer hardly even noticed your absence with the bustle of his friends in the room and when you came back you were even wearing other clothes. During their visit you were just a listener to the funny stories everyone seemed to have and from time to time you answered a few polite questions from others.

You talked to them about your plans to stay there daily and you agreed that they would take turns helping you for a couple of hours each, when possible, so you would get some rest as well. Also, most volunteered to replace the amount of blood he had needed in surgery. All the attention had the man a bit dizzy, but still he felt lucky for the people around him.

The days went by and sometimes you smuggled in a snack that wouldn't harm your friend's health so he could eat during the afternoon. You had convinced him to see one or another movie, you had brought some yarn and needles for you to resume knitting lessons that had been forgotten for many years, and in general you could say that you had a good time with him. Chats with Spencer always felt natural so topics of conversation weren't a problem either, as he would be able to recite facts to you from memory as long as you guys didn't get bored.

The doctors came in frequently to check that everything was in order and every time you heard positive responses about the recovery process you felt calm.

You'd come home at night because Spencer insisted on it, but the next morning you'd leave your apartment as early as possible and spend the rest of the day there.

Although you didn't want to admit it, you were more and more convinced that those days by his side became the spark of happiness that your life needed. All the time was only yours and served to recover some of the lost things.

“Do you want me to read aloud to you?” he offered an afternoon and you put aside your occupations to accept the offer. You had gotten him a copy of The Narrative of John Smith by Arthur Conan Doyle because you knew he loved that book and that was the one selected for the activity.

Contrary to what many people thought, he was a great speaker and the sound of his voice brought to the surface memories that you thought were lost.

"What are you reading?" you had asked that night, after brushing your teeth and putting on your pajamas. Spencer spent at least 10 minutes reading before going to sleep, enough for him to devour an entire book, or at least a large part of it.

You assumed that his current reading would be something related to a case, but you were surprised to hear the answer.

"Alice in Wonderland"

"Why are you reading Alice in Wonderland?" you asked helpfully, as you slid under the covers into the space next to him and peered over the side.

“My mom used to read it to me when I was a kid and I wanted to reread it. It's a nice story"

"I have never read it. I just watched the movie"

"You are committing a sin. The cinema will never do justice to the original stories.”

"And why don't you read to me a bit?" you asked nicely, followed by a short kiss on the lips "I like listening to you and maybe you will help me fall asleep"

You carefully slipped in until you were comfortably recharged on his chest and when you were ready he complied with your request, beginning with the story he knew by heart.

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it…

It became a habit and sometimes you guys wouldn't even finish the books because you always picked another one that seemed interesting, even if it was in a different language because you knew Spencer would translate it for you. It was those kinds of actions that allowed him to feel useful around you and thus show you how much he loved you.

You had already read that book once, as you were also an enthusiastic Doyle fan, so he felt free to choose one of his favorite chapters. You didn't lie down as comfortably as you used to, but you still enjoyed reading, with a big smile to return to that habit of yours that you loved so much.

In the midst of everything you reflected that, perhaps, the love between you was something that had not completely disappeared, but rather a latent feeling that had now found an opportunity to appear.

Loving meant many things and if you didn't love it then you wouldn't be there at that moment, but somehow repeating an exclusive activity from your time as a couple made you miss that greatly. Spencer hadn't read to anyone else because he knew that was just yours.

This time you didn't fall asleep when he finished the chapter, but you kept looking at him the whole time, afraid that it was just a ghost in your memory that would evaporate in your hands as soon as you dared to touch him.

Luckily he was very real and inside that small hospital room, you could travel to the past as many times as you wanted without being disturbed. And for now, that was enough for you two.

A whole week passed and everything seemed to be going great. That day Spencer had convinced you to watch a Korean movie he had on DVD and you were about to leave when he cleared his throat to get your attention.

"Before you go, do you think you could do me a favor?" he asked. He could move a little better now and right now his feet dangled to the side of the stretcher, from where he watched you slightly nervous. You didn’t imagine what this behavior was due to.

"Whatever, what do you need?"

"I didn't ask before because... I'm a little embarrassed, to be honest," Spencer wasn't watching you speak and your brow furrowed in obvious confusion at that "But... I asked the nurse if I could take a shower now and she said yes, but I need someone to help me"

Your mouth opened with a soft oh and then you understood why he seemed so shy about the request.

“You don't have to do it if you don't want to” he added “I know it can be awkward, I just don't know who else to ask and you know it bothers me so much being so dirty. I hadn't tried it before because it literally hurt to breathe, but now that I feel better I think I really need it and I would really appreciate it if you… you know."

"It’s okay, Spencer," you replied, taking a few steps toward him, "There's nothing in there that I haven't already seen.”

“I will wear underwear, I don't have to be completely naked. You would just have to help me wash… some parts”

“Then why are you making this fuss? Let's give you that shower!" you laughed, sitting down next to him so he put his arm around your shoulders and you could help him up.

He was still having a bit of trouble from the leg injury, but the bathroom wasn't that far away and you managed to guide him there. The shower was surrounded by a plastic curtain, with a proper chair for patients and a hose with a shower head at the end. You helped Spencer into the chair and while you recovered from the effort you took a look around; there were some toiletries on a shelf that would surely do for him, and a white towel as well.

“Morgan brought me some new clothes and the nurse said we could ask the store manager for a gown,” he muttered, before you started doing anything. You took off your shoes and left them nestled to one side, always feeling his gaze following you.

When you noticed that he didn't take his eyes off you and was just there, sitting, you spoke:

“Should I help you take off your gown or do you take it off yourself?” there was amusement in your words and Spencer, as if taken from a trance, hastened to find the knot of the garment for himself. He was already wearing his underpants below and it only took him to get rid of the material so that he was half naked.

You hadn't seen his wounds until that moment and you couldn't help but wrinkle your face imagining the pain he must have felt. His stitches were still there but they were already healing and he would have at least four scars, plus one twice the size on the leg opposite where he had taken a bullet; that added up to five marks adorning his body. He was never an athletic person, but since he wasn't a very keen eater either he was able to keep himself in shape. Personally, you had always been attracted to him in every possible way, so his physique was never something that bothered you: thin, muscular, with some paunch, you were going to like him no matter how he was.

“Are you going to help me or are you just going to stare at me?” he countered, looking down at you with that expression you knew was the boldest thing he could get, and you snorted a laugh.

"Shut up"

You stretched to reach the shower head to warm the water, not wanting him to catch a cold and knowing that a warm shower would make him feel better because it would relax his muscles. Once it was at the right temperature, you wet his hair a bit and took shampoo in your hands to wash his head. He gave a barely audible moan as you began to massage his scalp and closed his eyes so he could enjoy your touch. Once you were done there you took a sponge and started cleaning his shoulders, torso, and back, trying to be as careful as possible. Sometimes you even let your fingers slip through the side of the sponge to touch his slightly tanned skin, as smooth as it had always been, while you gazed at those moles you'd kissed so many times. The first time you had sex with him, as you watched him in the twilight after the act, you had tried to study every part you could, from the little freckles on his back to the birthmark on his leg, and right now you felt like crying to see those little things about him again.

You were enjoying treating him like this so much and not to mention Spencer, who felt like he was in heaven to feel you so close to him. He could smell your perfume, a little worn, but still present after the whole day and from time to time he dared to look up to meet your face. And every time he looked at you, he remembered why he thought you were the most beautiful woman of all.

"You didn't have to give me the whole shower, you know?" he joked at some point, when you lovingly washed his hands “I just wanted you to help me with the parts I couldn't reach. But honestly, I'm not complaining about this."

Of course the two of you had ever taken a shower together, but it had never been anything like this. They were always things to optimize time, like when you were short of time to go to work or too tired to shower separately. This act was something different, something more private and delicate; it was too domestic. You were taking care of him and at the same time enjoying seeing him in such a docile position, peeking at you from time to time.

"I'm just doing an old friend a favor" you answered with a smile, although when you heard the words out loud it immediately faded.

An old friend. Was that what you were now?

The place was silent for a moment, with only the sound of water dripping on the white tile floor.

"Did you ever miss me?"

His question had taken you by surprise and you remained silent before answering, trying to figure out what relation the question had to the situation. From the way he'd said it, you almost thought it was one of those things that burned in his chest and he'd needed to exhale.

"Yes, sometimes" you finally answered. He seemed satisfied with the answer "And you?"

"Many times," he laughed, a bit of guilt tinging his words.

A part of you wondered what he was trying to tell you with that: was it a confession… or a declaration? Ending the relationship had been imminent, and if you hadn’t done it that day you could have done it months or even weeks later, however, you weren’t going to lie in saying that you weren’t tormented by the thought of what would have happened if you had tried just a little longer. And that was accompanied, of course, by a tremendous feeling of nostalgia. You wanted to correct your answer and tell him that you had actually missed him terribly, all along, but you couldn't bring yourself to. And he, who couldn't read your mind, thought that he had simply bothered you with an out-of-place comment.

"You can rinse off while I get a new gown, what do you say?"

Spencer nodded at the idea and then you walked out of there, your cheeks feeling strangely hot. What was happening to you? Did you still have feelings for him?

Maybe the real question was, have you ever stopped feeling something for him?

It didn't take you long to get what you needed and you came back to find it wrapped in the towel. After he got dressed, you maneuvered in the same way to help him out, although now with the added problem of the slippery floor, and before long he was lying back on the bed.

"I feel much better now" he smiled at you. From the bedroom window you could see the night sky and then you realized how long it took you to shower.

"Do you want me to do something else?"

Your curt response wasn't because he deserved it, but because you were too confused to stay there any longer.

“No, everything's fine. Thank you very much for this”

"You're welcome" you smiled.

"Well... I guess you'll want to go now”

You still knew Spencer too well to know that that slight frown between his brows was a sure sign of concern, and you felt bad for speaking to him in the way you had. To atone a bit for your guilt, you approached him and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against his body in a hug.

His body still felt warm and comfortable and just as if it had been made to fit yours. His arms held you firmly when he was finally able to react and you felt his chest deflate a little, as if he wanted to give you more space to feel close.

Time passed so slowly that you didn't even know how long you stayed in that position, just enjoying the closeness and his gentle hands rubbing your back.

"I like how you smell" you exclaimed in a low voice, fearing to break the tranquility of the moment and you felt his chest vibrate with a laugh.

“Did you know that your sense of smell is directly linked to the attraction you feel for a person? Your nose captures the pheromones that the opposite body secretes and if it considers it a good candidate to mate then it is pleasant”

"I think it's just the shampoo," you laughed. You turned your head up a bit and Spencer, by inertia, turned down to meet your gaze. "Although I wouldn't need to sniff you to know if I wanted to mate with you”

The joke had been so natural that you didn't measure the weight of the words until they left your mouth, and the worst thing was that the position you were in hadn’t been the most appropriate. You could feel his breath mixing with yours and it was enough to get a little closer to melt your lips in a kiss.

You had put yourself in that situation, as if your body was unconsciously looking for his own, and Spencer hadn't refused at any time. Just like how no one had forced you to stay with him all this time and you still had.

Your boss had been too permissive with the situation during that time, but you were sure that she would no longer be so if more time passed, so you would have to return to the office the next morning. And Spencer had at most two more days before the doctor released him.

And what difference did it make if you kissed him at that moment? Would you ever get a chance to do that again? You didn't have to think about it too much, because he was the one who started closing the distance; an inch, then another, until you felt your lips brush against each other. And he would have kissed you if it hadn't been for the unwelcome ringing of a cell phone that made you jump away.

"It's... yours" you stammered, handing him the old artifact that announced Pen��lope García's contact calling him.

While he was having a conversation, you didn't even look at him, but started packing your things spread out around the room so you could get out of there as quickly as possible. You could tell by the rush in the man's words that he could read your intentions and wished he could talk to you before you left.

"Everything's good. Thanks for calling, Garcia. Yeah, I love you too. Bye”

"Look the hour! I have to go, I'll go back to work tomorrow and I want to have everything in order" you said as soon as he hung up the call, waving your hands in the air as you spoke as a sign of your nervousness "I'll try to come back tomorrow, but... I don't know if work let me"

“Okay, you've already done too much. I'm fine now,” he assured you, giving a thumbs up with a tight-lipped smile. Even though you wanted to say something the words didn't come out of your mouth, so you just raised your hand to say goodbye and then you rushed out of there.

All the way home your mind was busy processing the feelings that almost kiss had evoked in you and, to be honest, they all ended in the same thing: the wish that he had cut the distance completely. That desire followed you when you showered, when you went to sleep, when you woke up, and all through the workday the next day. Minute after minute your mind could only think about him and what would have happened if you hadn't been interrupted by that call.

As you had feared, you didn’t have time to visit him at night and since you didn’t find the courage to call him personally, you only asked the hospital to pass on the message. You intended to see him a day after that, figuring that the matter would have been forgotten, but your plans were thwarted when Spencer called you to say that they had just authorized his medical discharge. He sounded calm and, of course, happy, when he told you that an ambulance was going to take him to his apartment.

"That's wonderful" you answered honestly. You were sitting at your work desk sorting out some documents, so you held your phone between your ear and your shoulder.

“I just wanted to thank you for everything you did. For all. I… I don't know what he would have done without you here. And you didn't have to, but you still did it. So, thanks"

"I already told you before, you don't have to thank me for anything"

"But I'd still like to," he murmured firmly, "Would you let me buy you dinner sometime?"

You were silent for a second, honestly confused by what he was asking. I mean, you knew what he was inviting you to, but you didn't know why.

"Dinner?"

“Well, it's the least I can do for you. I have to use crutches for a while again, so we couldn't go out to a fancy restaurant or anything. It would just be us in my apartment, do you still like Italian food? Rossi taught me a great recipe and I think I cook decent enough.”

“Ah… yes, I would love to” you stammered. You thought that after his recovery you would not speak again and things would return to how they were before; but apparently Spencer had other plans.

"How about Saturday?"

“Sounds perfect to me” you breathed out, still a bit surprised and quite nervous about the proposal you just received. Even if it was merely friendly, you were happy to know that he still wanted your company.

Perhaps you had been too hard on him and on yourself by not allowing things to just follow their natural flow, holding onto the misconception that you and Spencer Reid no longer had romantic feelings for each other.

"I'll meet you here then, do you still remember how to get there?"

“If you have the same address, then I still do it”

"Good. I was just calling to ask you that. I guess you're busy working."

"Only a little"

"Well, I'll let you do it. Thanks for accepting"

"Thank you for inviting me"

You guys were silent for a moment and you wondered if Spencer was smiling the same way you were.

"Bye," he said kindly and after saying goodbye you hung up.

You were left smiling like a fool at the idea that your first date in a long time would be with the only man who years ago had been capable of stealing your heart and after taking a few minutes to process it you went back to your work, but not before pointing with circle the date on your calendar, like a teenager in love.

When the day finally came you made sure to look for a nice outfit before your dinner with him, holding yourself back from looking too excited. You rarely wore dresses but, if your memory serves you, he really liked how you looked in them, so you made sure to look for one that would accentuate your figure and make you look more youthful. You carefully combed your hair, put on just a little makeup, and came on your way to buy a bottle of wine. You still remembered the information that he had told you about which wines were best suited for each meal and although you still didn’t know about dinner, you brought a bottle that it presumed to be Italian.

When you reached number 23 on the second floor, you knocked on the door and after hearing a couple of noises, he finally appeared in front of you.

"Hey!" he greeted you happily. He was using his old crutches, had shaved off the facial hair that had appeared during his hospital stay, and was wearing a black apron with white lettering, which Garcia had surely given him, and which read: Kiss the cook. Please I'm very lonely “Come in, come in”

"How are you?" you asked, stepping into the apartment and greeting him with a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“I’m okay, dinner is almost ready. I had technical complications because I didn't consider that cooking with crutches is more difficult than doing it without them, so I just hope it tastes good" he complained, moving deftly through the apartment to the kitchen "Sit down, I'll join you in a moment"

When he got lost in the kitchen you took the opportunity to take a look at the place. He kept having piles of books both on the shelves and stacked on the floor, on his desk, next to the chair. There were a couple of new artworks on the green wall along with the ones you'd helped him choose in the past, and picture frames everywhere: him with his mom, several with his co-workers (old and new). and you were surprised to see that even you had a space. The frame was smaller than the others, maybe to make it more discreet, but it was carefully arranged on the shelf that, by chance, or perhaps not, contained many of the books that you had given him.

"Do you need help with something?" you half screamed, hearing the crash of some pots and he denied in the same way. The air smelled delicious and your stomach rumbled with anticipation. After a few minutes Spencer was with you, both sitting in the brown leather chair where you had spent so many afternoons together.

“You just have to wait for it to cool down a bit and we can have dinner”

"I brought a wine" you murmured as you handed him the bottle. He examined it and congratulated you on your choice, telling you that it would go perfectly with the pasta he had prepared. "Are you still taking any medication?"

"Not anymore. The doctor prescribed me some things for the pain, but… I'm not taking them” he said, with a guilty smile on his face “I like your dress, by the way”

Hearing this, a satisfied smile spread across your face and you modestly thanked him for the compliment.

As he said, dinner was ready in a few minutes and you accompanied him to the dining room to serve a couple of dishes. Spencer seemed to have put an effort into everything, as he looked really exquisite and you didn't hesitate to compliment him on it even before trying it on. Dinner remained pleasant, with a couple of laughs, jokes and a flirtatious look that sometimes you weren't even aware of. Now that he had gotten rid of the apron, you could see that he was wearing a purple button-down shirt that you had always liked on him, because it fit in all the right places to make him look gorgeous. Besides, that color had always favored him.

Once you were finished, you offered him a drink of wine and he agreed, listing the digestive benefits the drink had for you. He asked if you wanted to go into the living room to be more comfortable and then both of you walked to the rickety chair, taking the bottle with you. Within a very short time the liquid in it was almost completely finished and both he and you became gigglier.

Unfortunately for you, with the laughter that came, your self-control also left. Every time he spoke you couldn't help but let your gaze slide to his lips, a little to be able to correctly understand the words that came out of it and another little just to be able to appreciate the pink color they had; they still looked soft, and you wondered if they would feel soft.

You didn't know Spencer was aware of the struggle you had inside of you, as he kept talking, laughing, and just looking so handsome while you fell apart. After a couple of minutes, you couldn't resist it anymore. Your body was vibrating with the desire to have him, maybe because of the alcohol in your blood or maybe because he looked strangely attractive when he rambled on about his PhD research.

“Spencer” you stopped him suddenly. He looked at you with a hint of concern for having overwhelmed or bored you with his talk about him and you thought he couldn't look cuter that way.

"What's wrong?" he started to say, but the question was drowned out by your lips trapping his.

You kissed him fast but deep and all the weight of guilt fell on your shoulders when you looked at his reaction; he kept not looking at any specific point and breathing heavily through his mouth, totally petrified by what you just did.

"Sorry, I don't know why I did that" you stammered. You regretted it just because you made him uncomfortable, not because you didn't want to kiss him “I messed it up, didn't I? Are you mad at me?" you wanted to know, panicked, but now it was your words that were cut off by a kiss.

He wasted no time and taking advantage of your shock one of his hands came up to hold your cheek, while he leaned more in your direction. His lips tasted of wine and nostalgia, they tasted of an overflowing love that you had finally agreed to continue feeling for each other.

He kissed you so hungrily that he was making you completely dizzy and you only separated when it was absolutely necessary to breathe, repeating kiss after kiss. He lowered his other hand to your waist to try to get you closer and you, reflexively, climbed onto his lap. It was then that you guys really looked at each other; wet lips, messy hair, hot pink painted cheeks and completely agitated breathing.

"Uh, I..."

"It was too much?" you said fearful. His hands had automatically gone up to your waist, since that position was already quite familiar to him, and yours were on his shoulders.

"No, no. I mean… only if this is okay with you”

You could have told him you were sorry, but that would be a lie. You loved being so close to him, you loved that you finally had your courage, and you loved that he cared about what you wanted. And you were going to tell him, that's for sure.

"I am telling you the truth?" you gasped, carefully holding his face to force him to look you straight in the eye. They were the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen: "Right now all I can think about is how much I need you"

No more words were needed for what happened next. You melted into a kiss again and when you pressed your hip against his, he sighed against your mouth, feeling his crotch suffer the consequences of the heated kisses you were giving him. For a moment he wanted to feel sorry, but he knew better than anyone that you already knew perfectly every inch of his body and from the smile he felt on his lips he suspected that you were enjoying the heat in that area more than you should. It was satisfying to see that you still had that kind of power over him, where you barely touched him and he was already a mess. But you couldn't speak more highly of yourself, because when his hands went to your hips you felt like putty between his fingers.

"You want to…?" he started to say, but your insistence on kissing him barely left him thinking "Do you want us to go to my room?"

Spencer was afraid he was going too fast and scaring you with it, but he couldn't find another way to interpret the result of what you were doing. He just wanted you to be as comfortable as possible.

"Yeah, I think so" you answered in a whisper.

You got up from your seat and took his hand intending to help him up, until the crutches next to the sofa reminded you of the man's physical condition. Spencer looked at the hesitation in your eyes, but he didn't give you time to back down, because in one quick movement he was on his feet and crossing to the door that led to his room, ignoring any kind of pain he might feel.

Once there, he sat on the bed and pulled you towards him to continue kissing you. None of you bothered to turn on the light to continue what you were doing. You thought the position might strain him so you gently and carefully pushed him back to lay him flat on the bed. This allowed him to better knead the soft meat on your thighs and you rewarded him with enthusiastic kisses on his neck.

You separated a little until you were sitting on his hip and then you undid the buttons of his shirt. You made sure to gently kiss the wounds he had made and Spencer just sighed with each touch of your lips. A little needy to kiss you, he also stretched out his hands to your dress, asking with his eyes for your consent to lower the zipper and get rid of it.

The dress was left tossed somewhere in the room and you leaned in just enough for him to smear kisses down your shoulders and across your chest. You could tell that he was taking his time and that only increased your desire to have him, to feel him inside you and make you his as he had done so many times.

“Y/N” he whispered against your mouth and you just hummed a nod “Darling, can you help me take off my pants?”

The nickname had come so naturally from his lips and had sounded so delicious that you had to suppress a groan. He called you that all the time, he was a very vocal man and it wasn't uncommon to hear him say those kinds of things. Both in bed and out of it.

You did exactly what he asked and you took the opportunity to slowly pass your hand over the bulge in his crotch, hearing him let out the first moan of the night.

“Hey, do you have a… uh, some protection?” you asked timidly. You loved him and trusted him, but a baby wasn’t what you needed; at least not at that time.

"In the usual drawer"

As if no time had passed, you rummaged with your hand in the left side of the second drawer in the nightstand, until you found what you were looking for. Sudden and unwarranted jealousy swept over you as you wondered if he had invited other women to spend the night and if those others could find things as naturally as you had. No one knew Spencer as you did, you were sure of it, because he wasn't a man who opened up easily to others. And no matter how many people had passed through your life, no one would understand you as much as he did.

Once you put the condom on, you took the opportunity to pump it up and down with your hand and the man's whining made you realize that he had really missed you. Both of you were trembling with anticipation, so with one movement you discarded your missing items and climbed back into his lap. Still a little fearful you looked at him and even in the middle of the darkness you realized the loving eyes on you.

“If it hurts just tell me and I'll stop. I know you're still delicate and I don't want to hurt you.”

"You would never hurt me" he answered and although you wanted to believe that they were limited to his injuries from the accident, you knew that it wasn’t so.

Those words carried more weight than you thought. They were a vote of confidence that he gave you over your entire person, not only his physical condition, but also his feelings and desires.

When you became one you groaned in unison and took a moment to get used to each other again. Your movements became soft, constant, and deep and he, unable to do more, just enjoyed that feeling.

After a few minutes, things went beyond the physical plane you were on; you realized that no one, ever, could make you feel what he did. You felt complete, whole and loved. You loved to hear everything that came out of his mouth and respond with an even more obscene sound. You loved that he knew the right points to touch and when to do it, you loved that he looked for your kisses in the middle of the act and you loved that being with him everything became so passionate and intimate. At that moment it was just him and you, no one else. As it always should have been.

After a while both bodies were already covered by a fine layer of sweat and your hands, small compared to his, leaned on his biceps to be able to move better against him.

"I missed this so much" you confessed, your voice muffled by uncontrollable moans "I missed you so much, you don't know how much I did"

He wanted to answer you, but the truth was that for the first time he had run out of words. He could only feel your body pressed against his and your boobs bouncing with each thrust.

There were certain gestures, movements, and sounds that told Spencer when you were about to arrive, so when he heard your erratic breathing and sensed your hesitation, he placed both hands on your hips to help you keep up.

At some point you felt the knot in your belly forming and you just let yourself be guided by it, anxious to feel the ecstasy exploding in you. It was enough to feel your walls pressing against him, your loud moans and a couple more pushes for Spencer to reach his own orgasm, wishing that the hot liquid had filled you instead of the barrier that protected you.

Your body fell against his, completely surrendered, and you felt his chest rise and fall as you tried to catch your breath. One of his arms, still clad in his shirt, slid around your waist and his lips groped for your forehead to place a small kiss. You were exhausted, but at the same time overflowing with joy, and he shed a single tear. Maybe because he had had a good orgasm in a long time or maybe because of the overwhelming reality that you had just made love to him.

For a few minutes you stayed like that, so peaceful and calm that you feared falling asleep in his arms.

“Y/N” he whispered, your name slipping from his lips so softly you thought you misheard.

"Yeah?" you inquired in a whisper. You two had always liked to talk for a bit after the sex rush wore off, as a way to keep things romantic.

"Risking to ruin the moment, can I ask you something?" he murmured and you rearranged yourself to face him to watch him. He looked so handsome, with dilated pupils and a flushed face, that you thought you might take him again right then.

"Whatever you want," you replied, gently brushing back the hair that had stuck to his sweaty face. You were drunk with love, he could have asked you to lower the moon and you would have done it without hesitation.

"What did this mean to you?" he added cautiously. You knew better than anyone that Spencer needed a certain security in things as well as people. The question would come eventually, though you thought you would have more time to think of an answer that would suffice. “It's okay if you say you just felt like doing it or that it was something that happened in the moment, I understand. I just... I don't want to get the wrong idea."

“And what would that wrong idea be?” you asked curiously. Suddenly he had become shy and just avoided your gaze without knowing how to respond to that, but you took him by the chin to force him to pay attention to you "Spence?"

“I don't want to have any illusions about you. If you don't see something in the future with me, that's fine, but at least I'd like to know."

They were not aggressive or demanding accusations; they were just sincere words with which he sought to protect his heart.

"I honestly don't know what's going to happen to us," you replied. A disappointed expression came over his face and you took him by surprise when you reached up a bit to kiss him again, but this time reassuringly and gently "But today I realized that you are perfect for me, in all the senses. And that I can never love someone like I love you. Does that answer your question?"

“I guess I feel the same way” he replied, but this time he was smiling slightly “And I know that we should have ended a long time ago, but… if your heart agrees, I think I'd like to start over. We were both in a bad situation back then, but now things could be different."

And of course they were going to be, because a part of you was convinced. You loved him, you had admitted it, and you knew he felt the same way about you. That was enough.

"I guess you're right. As always, Dr. Reid” you laughed, hearing his melodious laughter as well.

"For once, that makes me happy" he confessed and almost a second after that you heard him let out a weak moan that made you aware that you were pressing your chest against his still-fresh scars.

But to be honest, any previous signs of pain had been dwarfed by the pleasure of your body grinding against his.

"Maybe I should move" you apologized, but when you tried to, he didn't let you, instead tightening his grip on his arm against you.

"Don't do it” he begged you "Stay here just a little while longer"

For him, you could stay your whole life if he asked you to. Now you were sure of that. He was sure of that.

And now that you two had it back, you weren't going to let it go.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid exes to lovers

2K notes · View notes

zephyrine-gale · 3 months ago

Text

wardance pookies

#my art #honkai star rail #yanqing #yunli #i tried fitting march's new fit into my current march charm but it looked wonky so shes not here ;v;#i love yq though... baby boy...... he really gets sm char development through all the ppl he has to fight #they're throwing grown ass war criminals and generals at him!!!#yq vs all of jy's exes

357 notes · View notes

choochooboss · 10 months ago

Text

POV: the chocolate was a gift from you!

My contribution to the @pokemagma art collab event from last month!

471 notes · View notes

raikirikiri · 5 months ago

Text

love the idea of obito living after the war and he’s assigned to kakashi’s guard as a type of “community service” and people will pass them in a store and obito is grumbling about how he should’ve killed kakashi, the hokage, when he had a chance and kakashi blithely points out that obito’s has had SEVERAL opportunities to kill him over the last several years. but all the villagers hear is the crazy mass murderer war criminal telling their hokage he wants to kill him and kakashi just :3 *shrugs* because if obito wanted to kill him, he would have.

#kakashi hatake #naruto shippuden #obito uchiha #kakashi #obkk #uchiha obito #hatake kakashi #and of course they are in love and dating but neither of them know that because they are stupid #a villager getting concerned and informing local shinobi #probably like tenzo who hears that kakashi may be in trouble and rushes to his side to protect him #but he just finds obito sulking and kakashi wearing a polite smile under his mask #sometimes they’re caught wrestling in public and villagers worry that their hokage is endanger #genma has to tear them apart and obito stops yelling at kakashi #but kakashi just mocks him and over all they look very childish #i just think they deserve to be silly #even if kakashi is hokage and obito is an ex war criminal who everyone but kakashi and naruto is afraid of

265 notes · View notes

reidmania · 14 days ago

Text

soccer practice | s.reid

summary; all of the odds are against you and Spencer having the happy ending you both want, but that doesn’t stop you from wishing it was different.

warnings; angst, no happy ending, kind of open ending, up to interpretation exes, cant stay away from each other, fem reader, reader is a lil tipsy but still in her right mind, right person wrong time vibes, reader is wearing a dress, miscommunication, illusions to sex.

an; hi guys! this is in fact my late fic for margovember… and possibly my return fic…! @pathologicalreid here u go my sweet angel

'somethin' about you, I can't get out and no one is watching, but still I can't fall, my body won't let me, I'm not here at all. we could've had it, but then again, we never could've done it, I was weaker then. I hate to say it, I know it's true, I'm waiting for someone who will make me say no to you'

The air is uncomfortably cold, thats all you can think about. The air was cold at the bar, the ac blaring down, even in between the heat of the bodies filling the room, even with the alcohol causing a warm fuzz in your stomach, and a lingering burn in your chest and throat. The air was cold when you stumbled outside, and the wind blew gently against your bare arms. The air was cold in the uber you ordered.

You were pretty sure it only got colder as you stumbled your way through an all familiar apartment complex, your legs moved out of memory, your mind too focused on why it was so cold to take a moment to process exactly what you were doing.

The air didn’t get any warmer when you knocked on the door labeled with numbers you had come to know better than your own birthday.

However when the door opened, and the warm gush of air followed out the apartment from the heating, and your blurry eyes met ones that held so much warmth, the cold seemed to disappear a little bit, then was gone completely when you were ushered into the warm room.

“I’ll get you water.” Was the first thing Spencer said after closing the door behind you. You remained quiet, suddenly feeling the weight of your decision pressing down on your shoulders, your stomach, your chest. You felt it everywhere, but that wasn’t unfamiliar anymore.

You mumbled a small thanks you weren’t sure he even heard as you shuffled towards the couch, you noticed how it was nudged back, slightly uneven, out of line. You let yourself believe that Spencer had knocked it on his way to answering the door, in such a rush because of the off chance it may be you.

“Here.” Spencer muttered as he placed the water on the coffee table close to the couch. You tried to pay no mind to the way his hand brushed your shoulder and sent fire along your skin for the brief moment it was there, sitting down on the edge of the couch you reached out for the glass of water, mumbling another word of appreciation.

Spencer stood for a moment, almost awkwardly before sitting next to you. Not close enough to quiet the beating of your heart. His forearms rested on his knees as he leant forwards, watching you carefully, worriedly.

You had so much you wanted to say, but the words remained lodged in the bottom of your throat uncomfortably, so you settled for whatever else came spewing out your lips. “I saw a couple on my way here.” Your voice was so quiet as you turned your focus to the condensation on the glass.

Spencer hummed quietly. Acknowledgment. “Yeah?” He didn’t understand. You didn’t either really.

You nodded anyways, “Mhm. A family I guess, they had a toddler, she was asleep though, in her dad’s arms, they were walking into the house with like- ten bags of groceries, a sports bag too.” You recalled the memory, not so much because it was a crazy sight to see, or anything drastic, life altering, but because of the way it made you feel.

He shuffled slightly, if you met his eyes you’d see the way they bored into your face, waiting for the moment you looked at him, you’d be met with the look of desperation, for an answer or an explanation of why you were here, why you were making this more difficult for the both of you.

But you didn’t look at him, so he let out a small breath, “Its like eleven, do you know many people who go grocery shopping at eleven pm?” He asked, indulging in whatever mindset you were in, or maybe trying to pull you out with reality.

You sighed and shook your head, lip caught in your teeth for a moment as you remained focused on the bead of water dripping down the glass. “No.” You breathed, “Maybe they were out all day, did the grocery shopping earlier and just got home.” You excused.

Spencer cringed slightly, but leant back. “I hope they didn’t get any dairy or meats. They’d be no good left out for that long now.”

You let a breathy laugh leave your lips, and then the silence followed. You knew it was your turn to say something, it was just difficult when there were the same three words replaying over and over in your mind, three words you couldn’t say anymore, which you deemed unfair because it was all you felt.

“We could’ve been like that.” You said so quietly, the thought that had caused you to bring up the memory in the first place.

“Leaving out dairy and meats to go bad and waste money?”

You rolled your eyes, finally turning your head to look at him, seeing the small smile creep on his lips, a ghost of one really, he knew this conversation wasn’t one for big smiles. You could tell he knew by the look in his eye. “No, happy, i guess. Going out all day, doing mundane things happily, together.” You breathed out.

He was quiet, because you both knew it wasn’t necessarily true. Everything you could’ve been, every idea that made you miss him, every moment you blamed yourself for not trying hard enough, even moreso every moment you blamed him.

“You think so?” He asked, eyes boring into yours with an emotion you couldn’t quite read. His question made you think, and you didn’t like the answer that contradicted the reality you had made up in your mind, the possible future for the two of you.

You shook your head, “No.” it was quiet, but honest. The love you had for Spencer consumed you, from the moment you woke up, to the moment you fell asleep, and then all throughout your dreams. But you knew every scenario you made in your mind before falling asleep, every different possible ending, you knew it was unrealistic.

You knew you both tried, hard enough. It was too much, too much back and forth, too much avoiding, too much not listening, too much of your own issues piling on top of one another. You couldn’t handle it, you couldn’t imagine a life of that with Spencer, no matter how much you loved him.

Maybe if you tried again it would end differently, but you knew that was a low chance. Spencer loved you, and he adored you. However, his job stopped him from being able to want you the way you wanted to be wanted, or made him unable to show it.

He was quiet as well, and you weren’t sure if it’s because he got the answer he was expecting or because he got the answer he didn’t want. You didn’t know how to read him anymore, you lost that ability a while ago, unfortunately that only made you try harder to decipher what was going through his head.

“I went on a date the other day.” Was not the words you were expecting from him, and you tried to ignore the way a bullet with his name written all over it went through your chest, how your mind raced to imagine him on a date with someone else, then your mind went to who the someone else was, what she looked like, what her interests were, if she was funny, smart, pretty.

“Oh”

“It was horrible. I hated every second of it. Left early.” He muttered almost in disgust, as the memory replayed in his mind.

Maybe it was bad how those words made you feel better.

“Why?” You breathed out, quiet, the weight of your words, your history, your love, filling the room with uncomfortable tension, the one that seemed to suffocate him just as much as it did you.

He dropped his gaze from you, hands fiddling anxiously, you hated that. That this conversation was making him anxious, you hated that while paying no mind to the anxiety in your chest.

“She wasn’t you.” He breathed out.

“Oh.”

Was that suppose to make you feel better? It was bittersweet in a way. You couldn’t explain how you were feeling, how the fact he went on a date while the idea of even trying to move on from Spencer Reid made you feel sick to your stomach.

It was so quiet, sickeningly so. You hated that, you hated that this was what you and him had become. You spent so much time at his apartment it almost became like a second home, some times you were there when he wasn’t, when he was away on a case.

The apartment was once filled with laughter between the two of you, warm lights, the smell of cookies, music playing, tangled in his sheets covered in beads of sweat and gentle whispers of love. then it shifted to dimly lit candles, arguing, heavy sighs and forgiving mixed with warm hugs, and gentle kisses. Now its cold, and silent.

You missed the arguments, right now. Arguing would be better the silence, arguing is better than distance, ending, no contact, missing, yearning. You’d take the arguments back any day. You’d take him back any day.

You would go through all the hurting all over again for a few more moments in his arms. For a few more moments of wishful thinking, pretending that the future, the reality you made up in your head was real.

You met his eyes as you placed the glass down on the coffee table, half empty. “I should go.” You breathed out, as you stood, hands rubbing down the hem of the silk dress you were wearing, a silly idea to go out with your friends, to distract yourself from missing Spencer, and somehow you ended up at his house.

“You don’t have to.” It left his lips quickly, as he stood up after you, his hand reached out gently for your wrist to stop you. almost a desperate plea for you to stay, to let him pretend that this was something. That the two of you could be something again.

You paused, every part of you aching to lean into him. To indulge. To pretend. It was so easy to pretend with him.

‘You don’t have to’ it was mean, because you both knew, you did have to. You couldn’t stay, no matter how much you wanted to. You had to go, because if you stayed any longer, you wouldn’t leave.

Your eyes held onto his, holding onto every breath between you. “Spence.”

“Is it because of what i said?”

“No, Spencer— I just- You know I cant- We can’t.” You didn’t pull away from his touch, not in the slightest, but he paused anyways at your words, letting out a breath as his hand fell from your wrist. You wished for it back.

“I know.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes because you knew if you did you’d stay. “Im sorry.” You apologised, maybe for the situation, for leaving, maybe for showing up in the first place.

He shook his head, you knew he didn’t want not need an apology, you couldn’t help the way they fell from your lips, guilt growing inside you like mold, “Why did you come here?” He asked. Maybe even pleaded.

“I was thinking of you.” You answered honestly, because that was the only explanation you had. You were thinking of him, not just tonight. All the time. Spencer remained an unhealed wound, a gash across your skin that would burn to the touch, however the touch seemed to be anything and everything that reminded you of him.

And unfortunately that was everything. You could connect him to a post lamp on the street if you tried hard enough. He was everywhere, all the time, he always had been.

He sighed, hands coming to drag over his face, then through his hair and you understood the movement, frustration building inside him like it was you. Not that you were upset with one another, just the universe and the lack of possibility it gave the two of you.

It was cruel how the universe allowed you to meet, fall so deeply in love and connect in ways you didn’t know existed, then make everything seem to go wrong all at once. You were cursed with wondering what if, maybe thats what brought you back to his house tonight.

What if things were different this time, what if things were better, simpler, what if there was a different ending in stall for this, what if, what if, what if.

Its what kept you in place in front of him, when the words fell from his lips, “You need to try to move on— You need to try”

It was almost funny. It wasn’t that you didn’t try, you weren’t actively going out on dates, or on apps that would supposedly find you the love of your life, but you were open to meeting someone.

Until a guy hit on you at the bar, respectful, funny, kind, probably a great guy — that didn’t stop the uncomfortable feeling from forming in your stomach, the ache in your stomach. It felt like cheating, being with anyone else. It felt wrong being with anyone that wasn’t him.

“I should go.” You repeated, because you knew this would end the same way it had every other time, and although you’d live through the hurt a hundred times over, you didn’t want Spencer to have to.

He let out a breath, and you knew his intention wasn’t to make you feel like he didn’t want you, like he wanted you with someone else. You knew that was the opposite. He just wanted you to be happy. He said your name quietly, desperately , and looked at you with wide gentle eyes so full of love, and hurt, and yearning.

Then he was tugging your wrist to bring you into his chest, wrapping his arm around you. There wasn’t a second thought in your mind before you wrapped your arms back around his torso, hands spread flat against his back as his own hand rested against the back of your head. His nose nudging into your hair as he inhaled deeply.

“Im sorry.” He whispered.

You breathed in, “I know.”

“I wish it was different, i really wish we could work.”

You breathed out, “I know.”

There was a beat of silence, not the suffocating kind, but content, almost acceptance. Almost.

“You should go.” He whispered as he pressed his lips into your hair.

You swallowed harshly, waiting for his arms to untangle from you, for his scent to drift back rather than suffocate you, for him to stare at you as you walked out of his apartment.

But his arms stayed around you, thumb gently brushing over your hair as his hand stayed on the back of your head, holding you to him.

“I know.” You whisper, yet your feet didn’t move. Neither did his. You knew they would soon, whether to walk to the front door, or to stumble back to his bedroom, but right now they stayed in place, and you stayed in his arms. Content in the fake reality you allowed yourself to indulge in for now.

119 notes · View notes

ventismacchiato · 1 month ago

Text

levi in the aot post credit scene 🙁 no reason he needed to do allat to clean one spot tho

#kai thinks #do u think he’s tall bc he’s finally not malnutrioned #headcanon hes an ex criminal or smth so he’s working as a janitor #I GET THAT HE LIKES TO CLEAN BUT WHY NOT A BARISTA #attack on titan #aot levi #aot movie

81 notes · View notes

allofmytoxicity · 4 months ago

Note

Could I send a request for Neal Caffrey x reader, reader x ex!Spencer Reid. Where the reader used to date Spencer when in DC but they broke cause he was too focused on work and she moved to New York to manage a company or something and starts dating Neal. But the BAU works with White Collar on a crime and Spencer gets jealous seeing how happy the reader is with Neal

Pretty Slowly

Neal Caffrey x fem!fianceé!reader

past!Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

a/n: I feel like I need to put this before the summary on this one because when I saw this ask come in I was on a walk and listening to Benson Boone (as you do) and Pretty Slowly, his new song, came on and the end really gave me inspiration for this.

Summary: You and Spencer used to date years ago, but now you're in New York and dating Neal, so when the BAU come in on a case, your stuck in the past wondering how you got where you are.

5 years.

5 long damn years.

It had been just over 5 damn years since you had last seen Supervisory Special Agent, Doctor Spencer Reid.

And you thought that when you had left D.C. you would only see Spencer again if you were a suspect in a case, but here he was. Standing right in the way of where you wanted to go.

It wasn't as if he could help it, he was just sitting on the edge of a desk, but because of how tall he is, his legs pushed out far enough that if you tried to rush past them, you would trip and fall if you weren't careful.

Now, the whole reason you were here was to give Neal Caffrey, ex-con and your fiancé, a coffee because he had messaged you, pleading you to bring him something better than Bureau crap.

So, here you were, coffee in hand, deciding whether or not it was worth walking across the bullpen to get to Neal who was sitting in Peter's office, looking over a file, or sending him a message saying that you were here and wait in the lobby. And by your judgement, possibly spilling hot coffee all over you and bumping into the reason you don't live in D.C. anymore was not worth it.

That was though, before Neal had turned around and saw you and waved, getting out his phone, and not long after your phone pinged. Getting it out, you saw the message Neal had just quickly typed up.

Hey! Are you bringing that coffee up or do I need to come to you?

You lightly smile at your phone, before firing back a text.

Can you come to me? I'm having a tiny crisis

You look up at Peter's office and watch Neal's shoulders shake slightly with a laugh before he sets the file down and makes his way out of Peter's office, stopping by the shelves of files before making his way towards you.

"Hey." You say, passing Neal the takeaway cup in your hands. Neal takes it and kisses your cheek, finally taking a sip of coffee after he does so.

"Hi," Neal says, swallowing. "What's the crisis that means Peter might kill me for not working?"

You raise your eyebrows at Neal, rolling your eyes as you reply. "Firstly, it's a mini crisis-" and that's all you manage to get out before Neal cuts you off.

"You said it was tiny." He states, a smirk making its way onto his face.

"And you say you totally didn't commit fraud," You deadpan before continuing. "Second, I never said you had to ask about it. I just said to come and get your coffee here because of the tiny crisis."

Neal takes another sip of his coffee and as he swallows, he shakes his head before finally replying. "Very well played Miss Y/l/n."

"It's nearly Caffrey to you." You say, finally kissing Neal on the cheek. "And if you really want to know, ehm, I, uh, nearly bumped into someone today that I thought I left back in D.C."

Neal lets out a sigh, remembering the state you were in when he first met you. You had been freshly broken up with and were barely two weeks into a new job as a museum curator when he and Peter were called to a case of potential art forgery. You, only having been there for a couple of weeks, were the prime suspect, but all they found in the end was a broken woman who didn't really know where her life was headed.

After the case, Neal had manged to get in contact with you to ask you for dinner, just to see how you were doing. You, of course accepted as it kept you from sitting and rotting in bed after work, and after a while of Neal checking in, he finally asked you out and you two had been dating ever since and were now on the way to getting married.

All Neal did was hug you. He didn't know who it was and what effect they may have had on your life, but considering the state he met you in...

He didn't think it was exactly going to be great.

When he did finally release you, you gave him a sad smile before taking a shaky breath, trying not to cry.

"Thanks." You say, taking Neal's free hand and squeezing it for a second.

"It's fine," Neal replies, doing the same action back to you. "Do you want to come and sit in Peter's office with me? I know he might be slightly annoyed but I think if we told him the situation he would be fine."

You softly smile at the gesture and look down at your shoes for a moment, composing yourself. "I would, but I have work."

"You don't have work on a Thursday. Well, at least for now because of what happened." Neal shoots back, sipping his coffee with his eyebrows raised at you.

"I don't, but I do have a meeting this evening though that I need to prepare for." You say right back at him in the same tone.

"You can still sit in Peter's office to prepare." Neal says to you, but the serious look on his face drops then and you sense the relisation just by looking at him, his face full of guilt. "Whoever this is, is in the office right now, aren't they?"

You nod and Neal's eyes start flicking around the bullpen and before long you watch as they land on the ground of BAU agents surround just beside his desk.

"It's the profilers, isn't it?" Neal asks, turning to look at you with sad eyes.

"Yeah." You say in a small voice, not sure of what was going to happen next.

And you still didn't as Neal engulfed you in a bear hug, releasing you soon after before taking you over to the elevators and getting in, where waited until you two were on a different floor to hug you.

Stepping back slightly, Neal still had his arms wrapped around your waist as you dried your eyes slightly.

"Which one?" Neal asked, a worried look on his face.

"The really tall one. Brown curly hair." You say back to him and Neal slowly nods, remembering who it was from when Peter had introduced him to the whole team earlier this morning.

"I'm sorry." Neal says, drying the last of your tears as he does so.

"Neal, it's fine. You never knew and I... I didn't tell you." You reply, a sad smile gracing your face.

"Tell me now then, if you don't mind, because if this guy hurt you, I'm not going to put you in the way of that again." Neal says, holding you just that bit tighter than before, worry clear on his face.

You look down for a moment, smiling softly at the fact Neal wanted to know. That he wanted to keep you safe from things you'd escaped from years ago. That he probably wouldn't let you go until he knew how to help you.

"Spencer nearly died on a case about, uh, five and a half years ago now. After he got out of the hospital, we fought. I didn't want or like to see him like that, and after about two months of going back and forth on the issue, we broke up." You softly say, looking Neal in the eyes. "My whole support system was his team, and because I'd moved to D.C. after college and met Spencer through one of his coworkers, I decided to move here."

Neal nods in understanding ever so often as you talk, your sad eyes looking into his guilty ones.

He knew what you meant. Starting a new life in a different city could change everything for someone, even if it was only moving by a few small states. So, even if it meant not seeing you for most of the day on your day off, Neal wanted to keep you as safe as possible.

"Go home." Neal nearly whispered it was that quiet.

"What?" You ask, asserting your head to it's natural position.

"Go home. Prepare there and I'll check up on you during my lunch break." Neal said, now dragging you once again back to the elevators, before getting you both in one and taking you down to the ground floor.

As you both step out of the elevator you give Neal an 'are you sure?' look and he just nods his head, walking with you through the lobby and towards the entrance to the large FBI building.

Just before you leave, you do give Neal a kiss before walking off, concious in the back of your mind that he's probably waiting until you round the corner of the pavement before he goes back inside.

It was just coming up to 3 o'clock when you answered the door to your's and Neal's shared granny flat above June's.

And it was just coming up to 3 o'clock when you stared back at Spencer for the first time in 5 years.

You two stared at each other for a minute, Spencer faltering so badly in what would've been his usual ramblings about he and Derek, who was with him, being FBI and that they would like to ask you a few questions that Derek had to take over.

"Miss Y/l/n, would you be able to come down to the local FBI office to answer a few questions?" Derek finishes off, looking at you with his sunglasses still on as you stare back at him, hair in a messy bun with a hoodie and leggings replacing your work clothes from earlier this morning.

"Yeah, just let me grab my phone, keys and wallet and stick on my shoes and I'll be right with you." You say, sticking your trainers on haphazardly while you grab your wallet, keys and phone, shoving them in your pocket as you walk out the front door, locking it behind you.

As you walk into the White Collar unit, you can already feel Neal's eyes on you, but you don't dare to look at them as Derek and Spencer take you to an interrogation room where you're sat down and left again.

Not for long though.

The silence of the interrogation room was interrupted by Hotch walking in and holding a file, laying photos out in front of you and reading from the file himself.

"You work at a museum, correct?" Hotch asks as you blankly stare at him and the pictures.

"Yes. I do." You reply, keeping the blank stare.

"And there was recently a body of one of your coworkers found in your museum in a new exhibit that had been added that was covered in pig's blood." Hotch then asks, looking up this time, and gesturing to the pictures in front of you.

"Yes, there was. The body was found in the natural world gallery. I'm one of the curators of it." You reply, properly looking at the photos now, seeing someone you worked alongside, especially on that specific exhibit, dead in it, drenched in blood.

"Alright. Now, do you know of anyone acting suspiciously that could've had access to the new exhibit?" Hotch questions, trying to dig a bit deeper still.

Remembering something, you reply, "I think I do actually. One of the interns, Alexandra I think her name is? She's been asking questions recently about museum closing times, when night shift people change over and all that sort of stuff." You reply, a horrified look on your face this time.

"Thank you Miss Y/l/n, you have been very helpful and we'll look into this coworker of yours." Hotch says as she leaves the room and as he does, Spencer walks straight in while you're getting up from your chair.

"I know you left, but you didn't even send me a message saying you were getting married? What the hell Y/n?" Spencer asks, clearly jealous just by his demeanour and snippiness with you.

"Spencer, I don't want to talk just now. I want to go home and go to bed. Let's just leave us where we were when I left." You ask Spencer as he stands there stunned while you walk out of the room and it's not 5 seconds before Neal wraps you in his arms when you walk out of the interrogation room.

"Well done." Neal whispers as he places a kiss to your forehead, holding you as if you were about to break.

You hold on to Neal for dear life as you can feel a set of eyes burning into the back of your skull.

"Can we just go home?" You ask Neal after a while, lifting your head up as you do so to look at him, tears in your eyes.

"Peter said I could as soon as we watched the profilers bring you in." Neal said, and you both walked back home to June's where you spent the rest of the night in bed, not really caring about dinner, just cuddling and ignoring responsibilities for a while.

The next morning, you woke up to rainy weather and to find that Neal wasn't beside, but a note was trying and failing to replace his body heat.

Y/n/n,

I've gone to work and I've also called you in sick today. Will be back soon, probably with lunch, but Peter called and said I was working your profilers today.

Love you,

Neal x

You smiled at it, and tracing Neal's loopy handwriting as you read it.

Getting up, you went and took a shower before getting dressed and making yourself breakfast and as you sat and ate the omelet you had made yourself, you got a call from Peter and the only words you didn't want to hear, spilled from his mouth over the phone.

Neal had been shot.

Neal, for as long as anyone had known him, did not like guns, and would actively try to diffuse a situation if it rose to guns.

So, as Peter explained the situation, your mind jumped to the worst, was he dead? Did he at least make it to surgery? What if he went brain dead? All these thoughts rushing through your head, you only just caught Peter saying that Neal was shot in the abdomen, but would be fine by the looks of things.

With the fact that Neal was alive accompanying you, you ran out the house, adrenaline probably the reason you could still sprint after a few blocks in the pouring rain, only needing a short taxi ride to the hospital after most of the adrenaline wore off, not wanting to get completely soaked through. But as you walked into the waiting room and saw Peter, you hugged him, seeing the remnants of dried blood on his shirt that he'd clearly tried to hide from you.

You started to sob in his arms, soaking Peter's shirt with your wet clothes and your tears, not ready to nearly lose another boyfriend to his job.

"It's okay," Peter soothed, smoothing out your hair. "He's out of surgery now and sleeping. The doctors aren't letting us see him because he needs rest."

You lean back and dry your eyes at that, nodding as you do so.

"Say that Neal will be fine Y/n." Peter says, giving you a very dad-like look.

"Neal will be fine." You says back to Peter, sniffling while you do and with that Peter guides you to a seat as you wait for Neal to wake up.

It had felt like an age when the doctor had finally come through and told you that Neal had woken up as your clothes were nearly dry, and as you burst into Neal rooms, you felt happy tears cloud your eyes.

"Hi." You said from the doorway, tears in your eyes at the sight. The sight of your fiancé awake from surgery with a massive bandage around his middle.

"Hey." Neal replies, giving you his signature smirk. "How you doing?"

"I'm doing better now that you're awake. I heard you jumped in front of Spencer and took the bullet for him." You say as you walk into Neal's hospital room even further.

"I did. I'm sorry I scared you. I promise from now on, to not jump in front of people if they're being shot at." Neal says, taking your hand once you were in arms reach and as Peter chapped the door you both looked at him, and you smiled. You had Neal back.

"I'll let you two chat." You say, squeezing Neal's hand, and Peter gives you a thankful look as you walk out and go straight for the entrance, just to give yourself a breather, even if it was in the rain.

Unbeknownst to you for at least a little bit of time, some of the BAU were there as well, including Spencer, who had a scratched up arm and sprained wrist, but was overall fine because Neal took the bullet for him. He was following you outside and got the fright of his life when you turned around and nearly tackled him to the sodden ground.

Releasing him, you sighed, not wanting to waste to much of your life talking to this man.

"Spencer, why are you following me?" You ask, looking down at your feet and then back up at Spencer.

"Because, I want to know why the ex-convict is not getting broken up with over being shot, but I was. You moved out of D.C. because of me Y/n! You could at least tell me why he's being treated differently!" Spencer rages at you, and you are taken aback by how angry he got.

You shake your head, tears coming to your eyes once again and you finally let them spill, your voice shaky. "Because Spencer, Neal said he wouldn't go out of his way to get himself killed again when I told him I was worried. You brushed me off. You brushed me off and told me that it didn't matter because we all die anyway."

"Well, that makes all the difference doesn't it? What he promised, but I didn't. Y/n, that's the most ridiculous shit I've heard all day." Spencer snaps back and as you cry, you try swiping you under eyes of tears, but that doesn't stop the flow of tears as it comes along.

"I have no idea who this Spencer is, but this is not the fucker I know. You're jealous, Spence. And, I know that we used to be two lovers, but that was all we were and I have no idea who the hell we are now. Because we certainly aren't those two people we knew years ago." You say, holding your ground, making your voice sound stronger than it was. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to my fiancé and leaving you here for your team deal with. Have a nice life Spencer."

And with that, you pushed your damp hair out of your face, swiped your eyes and walked back in, and leant against a wall close to Neal's room, holding your hands now over your eyes to try and stop the tears.

After a while if felt as if they had stopped and walked back into the room, to see Peter and Neal talking away animatedly. You felt at peace as you plonked yourself down on the bed beside Neal's legs and complete as you held his hand, reminding yourself about how you two first met and how everything happened pretty slowly to begin with.

So, you sat there, not interrupting Peter and Neal's conversation, but content knowing that the one person that had wormed their way into every aspect of your life once, was finally out and put in his place.

For good.

a/n: it's currently after 1am my time currently, so I'm going to bed, so goodnight! enjoy this! I certainly enjoyed writing it.

requests are open!

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #criminal minds #spencer reid #neal caffrey x reader #neal caffrey #white collar #criminal minds x ncis crossover #spencer reid x ex!reader

113 notes · View notes