#anyway yeah what i was trying to say was reid would absolutely swear you people just see autistic people as babies
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micahdotgov · 1 year ago
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i hate when people say that reid would never swear bc in the show he says bitch and son of a bitch multiple times which is the most swearing that was allowed in the show therfore if it had a higher rating he would swear so i cant help but feel like that opinion is purely the infantilisation of autistic people
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radiant-reid · 3 years ago
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The Private Side of a Secret Life
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Part 1
Summary: After the ladies of the BAU take Spencer's mystery wife out and learn some... new things about their colleague, the Reids get to work on making their fantasy a reality.
A/n: I just want to say a very quick thank you to all of you amazing people who loved part 1 and inspired me to write a part two. Enjoy  🤍
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (SMUT 18+)
Content Warning: vomiting | swearing | NSFM (breeding kink, daddy kink, unprotective penetrative sex, slight fingering)
Word Count: 3.1k
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"Spencer, seriously, I'll be fine." Y/n attempted to assure him for the fourth time, trying to wave him out of the bathroom so she could continue to apply her mascara without his watchful gaze.
Despite the reassurance, he grimaced. It wasn't that he didn't trust Y/n because he absolutely did and had for some years or that he didn't have faith the ladies of the BAU would look after her, but Spencer had second-hand nerves about what they would discuss. Mostly because he knew after a few drinks, Y/n was down for anything, which was actually how they ended up buying their very first sex toy. Although, that was beside the point because it brought immense pleasure and not lifelong embarrassment at work.
He still had one more trick up his sleeve, executing his scheme by pressing her against the bathroom vanity, caging her in with his arms on their side of her body as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Or, you could just say here." He suggested. "Put Poppy to bed early so I could rip that dress off you." His eyes were all over her figure, admiring the curves the tight dress accentuated.
When he used that tone, she had a hard time focusing on anything that wasn't how the temptation that was the growing bulge in his pants pressed against her ass.
Luckily, before she could drop the mascara wand, another Reid spoke. "Daddy! The iPad isn't working." Poppy complained, no doubt sitting on the couch tapping it harshly.
"Mood killer." Spencer dramatically whined.
Y/n could hear the playful tone in his voice as she shoved his shoulder. "I recall you named her Poppy."
"I don't even know anything about technology." He complained, stepping out of the bathroom.
Pulling him back in, Y/n passionately dove in to kiss him, purposefully teasing. "Spencer?" She asked, earning a nod after a pause from him as if his brain momentarily stopped working. "You were never going to convince me anyway."
Spencer let out another groan, more than a bit sexually frustrated before going to read the iPad instruction manual. Y/n fluffed her hair out again, trying to make sure it looked alright. Although she wouldn't tell him, she was worried about what Spencer's best friends would think of her.
"Okay, I'm going now." She announced, heels that she would end up taking off on as she walked into the living room. Poppy waved, still watching Spencer when Y/n walked over to place a kiss on her forehead. "Mwah." Spencer, sitting on the floor, tilted his chin up as he waited for his kiss. After she giggled, she leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips. "Love you both!" She announced, walking towards the door.
"No secrets," Spencer instructed, although it came out weaker than he would have liked.
Y/n spun back around, drawing a cross over the fabric of her dress where her heart was. "Promise." She assured him.
She stayed true to her oath to Spencer for most of the enjoyable evening. His friends were great, like how he'd described them so many times, and she had no trouble fitting in. The problems- spilled secrets- came when the shots came. Some tequila and her lips were loose.
"Oh yeah, having Henry changed the game," JJ said in reply to a question about her and Will's sex life. "Not that I don't love him with all my heart, but things were... different when we were still sneaking around."
"So you're trying to convince us that three-hour flights to New Orleans are sexy?" Emily rhetorically asked, making all of them burst into a fit of giggles while JJ tried to defend her statement.
Penelope was next to playfully bad mouth her friend's relationship. "A long-distance booty call." She joked. "I can't believe you thought we didn't know."
JJ laughed at the mistakes of her younger self, burying her head in her hands to avoid the embarrassment. "Even I knew." Y/n chimed in between laughs, making Emily and Penelope double over in giggles.
With the attention back on Y/n, they had the same question to repeat to her. "We know absolutely nothing about Spencer's sex life, so feel free to tell us everything," Emily told her, least drunk and ready to save his secrets for a later day.
"Well, Spencer never changed. Like, at all." Y/n was ready to brag about her husband and the way he could fuck her. "When I was pregnant, oh my gosh, he was insane like wild all day every day."
It made her shiver thinking about it. Spencer had been away on a case when she really popped, and as soon as he saw her pregnant with his child, he went crazy. She lost count of how many times she came that night.
"So when you got together, was he, you know, a virgin?" Penelope steered the conversation back to the question everyone at the BAU had wondered before they learned he had a wife and child.
"Yup," Y/n confirmed, proudly smiling.
JJ aw-ed, going on to explain why she thought it was cute. "It's sweet that you're the only person he's been with."
When Y/n bit her bottom lip, the rest of them knew there was more to the story, a much dirtier secret. "Wait, what?" Emily realized. "The other day, he was talking about how many germs would be exchanged in a situation like that."
Y/n snorted out a laugh, amused that he could publically oppose threesomes when he'd been an active participant more than once. "Hypocrite." She labeled him.
"Who?" JJ asked, all of them hanging on her every word, eyes wide in disbelief.
Y/n clenched her teeth together, unsure about what to tell them. The alcohol making her skin hot compelled her to truthfully, yet ambiguously, answer. "Promise you won't say anything?" She made them assure her, waiting for a nod before answering. "Let's just say that an ex-BAU team member knew who I was."
It took the three of them a moment to piece the story together, but Penelope finally got it. "Elle!" She shouted, loud enough for other patrons to turn their heads to look at their group.
Y/n's silence only confirmed the answer along with her guilty smile. "Or Gideon." Emily joked, forcing Y/n to choke down the sip of her drink instead of spitting it out.
"She taught him a lot." Y/n mentioned, forever thankful to Elle for teaching Spencer how to properly eat a girl out. In the 8 years since then, his skills continued to improve.
"Oh, he radiated sub energy," Penelope fondly remembered baby Spencer, who was so incredibly shy.
It prompted another question from JJ. "Is he still?"
Y/n scrunched her nose, half shaking her head. "Only sometimes, but it's amazing either way."
"Okay, okay, one last question." Emily declared. "How long?"Y/n shook her head, knowing he would kill her if he knew. "Come one." She pleaded, pressing both of her palms together before slowly pulling them apart. "Really?" She asked, stopping at what looked like 6 inches.
Y/n nodded. "Really." She assured them, letting Emily continue while their eyes continued to widen exponentially. "Yeah, there." She estimated, not stopping their shocked looks.
The conversation shifted direction to Emily's love life, the three of them feeling like they knew too much about someone they considered to be a brother.
Eventually, at some point in the early morning, the taxi stopped in front of the Reids' townhouse, and Y/n made her way inside after thanking JJ, Emily, and Penelope for the fun night. She had stopped drinking after the vodka, and she was sober enough to walk without needing to take her heels off.
Silently, for Poppy's sake- she guessed Spencer waited up for her- she made her way to the bedroom. As perfect as ever, he was sitting up against the headboard with his nose in a book.
"Waiting up for me?" Y/n asked, leaning against the door frame, so she could take her shoes off.
Spencer looked up, his eyes flickering with mischief. "Nah, this book was too thrilling for me to put down." He replied.
Y/n huffed, walking over and taking the book out of his hands. "A chemistry book in Russian is more interesting than me?" She asked, skimming over the title, which she couldn't read. The only reason she guessed it was chemistry was the drawing of covalently bonded molecules on the front cover.
"A little," Spencer answered, smiling up at her.
"Oh, a little?" She repeated, mocking his voice as she put the book down and looked at him, their faces only inches apart. "Really?"
He nodded before whispering. "Really." They were close enough he didn't have to lean forward much to kiss her.
Y/n deepened it, showing him how much she missed him in the small amount of time they'd been apart. Spencer's hands drifted to her waist while she cupped his cheeks, feeling the slight stubble around his jawline. Almost as soon as his tongue was in her mouth, he pulled back.
"You taste like gin... and tequila." He informed her, grumbling.
"Sorry that you like sweet cosmos with as little vodka as possible." She retorted, pulling away from him to get changed.
Spencer attempted to keep reading his book, but her nude figure immediately had his undivided attention. Once she brushed her teeth and took off her makeup, she climbed into bed next to him.
Putting his book down and turning off the light, Spencer lay down. "How was it?" He asked, facing her.
"So much fun," Y/n answered, affirmatively nodding her head and neglecting to tell him of details she revealed about their sex life.
"I'm glad," Spencer mumbled, clearly tired but feeling reassured that she enjoyed it.
Y/n closed the gap that time, kissing him gently. "Better?" She asked, regarding the taste of her lips.
"Minty fresh," Spencer commented, pulling her closer, so he could finally sleep knowing she was in his arms.
~
Instead of waking up to Y/n peppering his face in kisses, Spencer woke up when she dramatically shifted out of his arms. Sitting up, he noticed Y/n rushing to the ensuite, and he got up just as quickly to hold her hair.
"Let it out, baby." He cooed, rubbing her back as she threw up. Wishing she hadn't drunk as much, Y/n finished being sick and got up.
Spencer handed her a glass of water and gave her a pitiful look. Thankful, Y/n gargled with it before brushing her teeth for a few minutes, reapplying toothpaste twice. Attentively, he watched her while brushing his own teeth.
"You okay?" He asked her.
She gave him a nod. "Do you know what this reminds me of?" She asked, catching his eye in the mirror.
"When you were pregnant with Poppy." Of course, he did, not even needing to use his profiling skills.
Y/n turned around to face him, resting her back against the vanity. "I want-"
Spencer dove forward before she could finish the sentence, hurriedly pushing his lips against hers. Shocked, Y/n relaxed into it. She shouldn't have been surprised, having been thinking about his love for breeding meer hours ago.
"I know." He told her when he broke the kiss to breathe.
"You know?" She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer.
His hands were on the back of her thighs, picking her up. "I know." He assured her, waiting until she'd wrapped her legs around his waist to kiss her again.
Before she knew it, she was being tossed onto the bed, hitting the blanket. Spencer climbed on top of her, slotting one knee between her thighs as his lips trailed wet kisses all over her neck.
"Wait, what about-"
"Door's locked," Spencer replied before she could finish the question. His hands were already under her pajama top, squeezing her boobs.
Y/n giggled slightly, teasing him. "Excited or something?"
They couldn't have picked a better day intentionally. The soft sunlight peeked through the curtains and cast a golden glow around the room. The moment of peace every morning when they usually drank coffee or cuddled.
"You have no idea." He said, leaning forward to kiss her again.
Moving a hand down his bare chest, she traced her finger over the bulge in his boxers. "Yeah, I do." She mumbled against his lips, breaking out into a grin.
"Just wanna put a baby in you so badly." He rasped, wasting no time pulling up her shirt.
She worked with him, sitting up so he could take her shirt off before lifting her hips up and putting off her own pajama shorts. Spencer was doing the same thing, taking off his boxer shorts before running his finger through her slit.
"It gets you going, too, doesn't it?" Spencer questioned, looking up at her matching dilated pupils. Even doing so little, Y/n could feel herself getting wetter. "Yeah, I can tell you want daddy to put another baby in you."
"Please, daddy." She begged to feel him.
He smiled proudly at her, thrusting two fingers at once inside her. "Fuck, baby, so tight." With a purpose, he scissored his fingers, stretching her open.
Y/n's moaning was already unstoppable, her skin growing hot under his intense gaze. "Daddy, please... breed me." She whispered, needing more than just his fingers.
Spencer stilled his finger inside her, knowing the warmth would feel amazing on his cock. "Hmm? What was that?" He cooed condescendingly, having heard her perfectly.
"Please, daddy- fuck." Her concentration was broken when he pushed against the spot inside her that made her scream. By the smirk on his face, he'd done it on purpose. "Put a baby in me." She pleaded sweetly.
It was good enough for Spencer to run the head of his cock over her clit, making her arch her back as something sparked inside her. The guttural groan he let out as he bottomed out was enough to make her loudly moan. "Being so good for daddy, aren't you?" He asked. "Letting me fill you up and carrying my babies."
"W-wanna carry all your babies," Y/n affirmed, her breathing uneven as he continued to thrust into her. "Love having your cum in me."
"So deep inside you," Spencer declared. "Can feel your walls clenching around me already." Y/n could feel her heart thumping in her chest, unable to look anywhere but him as her blood pulsed around her. "Who does this pretty pussy belong to?"
Spencer was so attractive, with his hair bouncing with every thrust as he panted. It would have been easy for her to forget he even asked a question if he hadn't squeezed her hips. "You, daddy." Y/n moaned out.
"Gonna let me cum deep inside you, isn't that right, baby?" He asked. She could tell he wasn't far off from his moans increasing in pitch. "Make your belly swell so perfectly like it did last time." His rambling was also a sign he was close, speaking whatever was in his head. "Fuck, want me to fill you up?"
Y/n could barely get words out between her moaning. "Y-yes, daddy, so badly."
"Tell me," Spencer commanded, moving his thumb down to her clit to make sure she'd come before he did.
“Fuck a baby into me, Spence," Y/n begged, leaning up to capture his bottom lip in a kiss. "Make me a mommy again."
One last rough thrust was enough to have Y/n coming, able to feel her walls pulsing around Spencer's length as he came, his cock deep inside her.
Spencer stayed inside her for a moment, holding his weight above her body before pulling out slowly and reaching for a pillow to prop Y/n's hips up. He couldn't resist the urge to kiss up her chest before he captured her lips in another passionate kiss.
"You're so beautiful." He mumbled, falling onto the bed next to her in exhaustion.
Y/n pushed his hair back, and placed a kiss on his slightly sweaty forehead. "I love you."
"I love you, too." Spencer hummed happily. "I'm sorry for..."
"Going a little feral?" She filled in, grinning widely.
Apologetically, he nodded. "Yeah, that."
"If you couldn't tell, I enjoyed it." She laughed, making him feel better about his urgency to impregnate her. "I can't wait to have another baby."
"I know." Spencer agreed, placing another kiss on her lips as his hand drifted down to her lower stomach instinctively.
~
"So, Reid, we were told something interesting this weekend," Emily mentioned, managing to corner him at his desk on Monday with JJ and Penelope. Morgan wasn't there yet, and Rossi and Hotch were in their respective offices, so it was the perfect time to grill him.
Spencer tensed, trying not to look like he was internally freaking out about what his drunk wife had confessed to his friends. "What do you mean?"
"Something about the infamous daddy Reid." Penelope prompted.
Immediately, he froze while his cheeks reddened. Surely not... surely Y/n wouldn't have gone into detail about what she called him in bed. If she had told them, he wasn't going to hesitate in putting her over his knee when he got home.
"Spence." JJ waved a hand in front of his eyes, trying to get his attention. When he looked at her, she explained. "She told us that you're a big fan of her pregnant."
Understanding that they hadn't learned the most intimate part of their sex life, Spencer had no problem admitting she looked gorgeous pregnant. "Yeah, so?"
He quickly wished it didn't sound so much like a challenge when Emily revealed another detail Y/n had spilled. "She also called you a hypocrite." She started, making Spencer frown as he tried to figure out where the conversation was going. "For the comment you made about my hookup."
Still, Spencer didn't understand. He'd never said anything rude about the kinky things Emily, or anyone else on the team, was into. Mostly because he and Y/n had tried them all out. "I don't understand." He admitted.
"My hookup with two people." Emily helped him out.
Spencer's mouth dropped open in shock, a blush forming his cheeks. "She didn't." He stated, hoping it wasn't true. The nods all three of them gave him assured him it was. "Really?!"
"Yup," Penelope confirmed. "We're going to ask her to come out next girls' night, too. All your secrets are about to be ours."
It would have been easy for Spencer to shut up then, but he didn't. He had to win some ground back. "Yeah, she's not going to be drinking, though." He mentioned, quiet enough, they had to be hooked on his words to hear it.
"Seriously?" JJ sputtered out, in disbelief, about how quickly the couple had gotten to actually making a baby.
"I'm sure," Spencer affirmed, wearing a proud smirk.
He was positive like the test, a few weeks later, was.
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criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years ago
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Hungry Eyes
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Summary: Spencer is tired of hiding your relationship. 
A/N: The idea for this fic came from a lovely anon that requested a fic based on She’s So Nice by Pink Guy. I also drew inspo from Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen (strange mix, but stay with me here.) So basically, a lot of Dom!Spencer goodness. I’d like to say a huge thank you for almost 1k followers, because wow. I never imagined 5 people would actually want to read my writing. I love you all, and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
Warnings: swearing, jealousy, degradation, spitting, slapping, oral sex (male and female receiving), spanking, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex
Word Count: 5.5k
           “That is one fine piece of ass. Don’t think I could get any work done with a sweet little thing like that prancing around my precinct,” mutters yet another sleezeball detective, beady eyes trained on you like a lion might study their prospective prey. It’s moments like these that Spencer has to remind himself that patience is a virtue – that he must bite his tongue because he’s at work and that means he has to act professional. Even if those around him don’t seem capable of affording him the same luxury.
           So, it’s with a clenched jaw and all the self-restraint that he can muster that Spencer forces himself to focus on the task at hand. Because Spencer is a professional, and there are more pressing matters that demand his undivided attention. The detective could be dealt with later – in the form of a complaint to the higher ups. But for now, patience.
           Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem. Years on the job had taught Spencer to remain level headed no matter the circumstance. Usually, Spencer could tune out the locker room talk in favor of immersing himself into the case. But when it came to you, or rather, people who dared to look upon you with eyes laden with lustful intentions, Spencer had a rather short fuse.
           It happens often, and he supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised. You’d certainly turned his head the first time he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on you. He’d nearly broken his neck trying to steal another glimpse of you as you walked past him on your way to Emily’s office on your first day. No one would ever describe Spencer Reid as forward, but on that day, he was the most brazen he’d ever been.
           Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer made a split-second decision stop you and introduce himself.
           It was the best decision he would ever make.
           So, yes – he understood why the head of everyone you passed turned your way, eager to bask in your unparalleled beauty. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it. In fact, every time Spencer caught some imprudent bastard leering at you, he had to remind himself that enacting physical force on another person with no real reason could cost him his job. That, and he was above resorting to violence – or at least he was, until you came around.  
           Part of his anger was rooted in the obvious lack of respect. It didn’t matter if Spencer held your hand in his as the two of you walked down the street, or if he kissed you on the lips in the middle of a crowded restaurant. All the PDA in the world did nothing to assuage the lingering stares, and Spencer felt his sanity chip away with every passing day.
           In the beginning, keeping his relationship with you a secret from your colleagues seemed like a good enough idea. Both of you were in agreement that you didn’t want to your personal relationship to affect your professional one, so when the elevator doors opened up and the two of you stepped out into the bullpen, you both were on your best behavior. And it was okay at first – Spencer was able to put his romantic feelings aside and focus on his work, all while still being able to make eyes at you from across the room. It was the perfect arrangement.
           Until it wasn’t.
           Because it wasn’t enough that you were gorgeous – you were also the most selfless person that Spencer had ever met. Always eager to lend a hand to anyone in need – always seeing the best in everyone, regardless of if they deserve it or not. It was an admirable quality to have, and he loved you for it, but on days like today he wishes you were a little more perceptive.
           That, and he wishes you’d chosen to wear anything but the tight little skirt and low-cut top that you were currently sporting. Not that he didn’t love the way the fabric clung to your figure like it was tailor-made for you – because he did - it was just that every other male in the precinct seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. And that made Spencer’s blood boil.
           The tipping point comes when, just as Spencer is trying to hunt you down and propose a quick lunch break, he finds you engaging in conversation with the very same detective that had been spouting lewd comments about you all morning. You’re seated at the breakroom table, clutching a fresh cup of coffee in hand as you look up at the man, a polite smile upturning your lips as you listen to him drone on about how his amateur baseball team had won some stupid fucking tournament the previous weekend. He’s smiling down at you, endlessly smug and way too pleased with himself at having captured your attention.
           It makes Spencer sick.
           His reprieve comes when your eyes flit to the doorway and you flash him a breathtaking smile. It makes him warm from the inside out, and Spencer wants nothing more than to plant kiss after kiss on your lips. Unfortunately, he can’t, so he settles on returning your smile.
           “There you are,” Spencer greets as he crosses the room before coming to a stop next to you. “I was thinking we could go grab lunch.”
           “Is it really lunch time already?” you murmur as you glance down at your watch. “I guess I let the day get away from me. Detective Yarborough was just telling me about the baseball game his team won this weekend.”
           “Oh, was he now,” Spencer feigns interest as he turns to face the man.
           “Yup,” you say, completely oblivious to the uncomfortable tension. “Didn’t you tell me you played in a baseball game once?”
           This piques the interest of Yarborough and he raises an eyebrow at Spencer.
           “You play?” he asks, tone laden with disbelief.
           “Not exactly.”
           The detective merely harrumphs in response, and an uncomfortable silence falls on the room.
           Your eyes dart between the two men and your brows furrow adorably as you try to make sense of the almost palpable animosity.
           “Okay… So, lunch. Did you have anything in mind, Spence?”
           “There’s a really good pizza joint two blocks from here,” Yarborough chimes in. “I could show you, if you like.”
           He acts as if the offer extends to you both, but the way he looks only at you when he says it tells Spencer otherwise.
           “The hospitality is appreciated, but that won’t be necessary,” Spencer breezes, clipped and to the point. He’s able to see in his peripheral vision the way your eyebrows raise in shock, but he’s too busy glaring at the detective to care.
           “Uh, yeah. Thanks anyways, Detective,” you mutter confusedly as you stand.
           “Anything for a pretty lady such as yourself,” he replies. “And you can call me Trevor.”
           Spencer’s hands are clenched into fists and he has to actually bite down on his tongue to keep from doing something he’d surely regret later. You bid Trevor ado with a smile and a parting wave, and then Spencer’s ushering you out of the room and down the hall, hand placed firmly on your back. He can’t do much in regards to initiating physical contact, but he allows himself this miniscule act of PDA. The feeling of your warmth radiating through your blouse is the only thing keeping him from giving into his primal instincts. Instincts that are screaming at him to put that smarmy bastard in his place.
--
           The hours after lunch pass by rather uneventfully. You accompany Tara when she goes to interview the victim’s family, and for the first-time all-day Spencer is able to repress his frustration long enough to focus on piecing together a geographical profile. By the time you and Tara return, the sun has long since disappeared from the sky and fatigue is rolling off everyone in waves. When Emily finally announces the end of the day, she’s met with absolutely no resistance.
           Spencer immediately scans the room for you, only to frown when he sees that you’re nowhere in sight. In fact, he hasn’t set eyes on you in well over an hour, too busy wrapping up the days’ work to notice your absence until now.
           “Has anyone seen Y/N?” Spencer calls out. His question is met by several shaking heads.
           “I think she’s busy,” JJ sing-songs, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Spencer’s frown only deepens.
           “Busy?”
           JJ nods.
           “Yarborough has been chomping at the bit to ask her to dinner. My guess is he’s got her cornered somewhere.”
           Of fucking course.
           Spencer’s out of his seat and stomping through the precinct in second, oblivious to the way his coworkers exchange curious glances as he storms off.
           He finds the two of you in much the same way as before, only this time Trevor is blocking your path to the doorway, hand in the air as he moves to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.
           “– C’mon, babe. Say you’ll go to dinner with me,” Trevor croons in a way that’s supposed to come off as seductive. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
           You lean backwards in an attempt to evade his touch, and you barely get the chance to open your mouth when Spencer intervenes.
           “She’s not interested.”
           The detective whips around, snorting in annoyance when he sees Spencer standing in the doorway.
           “What are you, her fucking keeper?” Trevor sneers, before turning back to face you. “Who does this guy think he is?”
           Something in Spencer snaps, then – the same something that has been swelling inside him for months, threatening to spill over every time he had to pretend that the stares didn’t enrage him. He’s tired of pretending, tired of hiding, and so, so fucking tired of not putting assholes like Trevor Yarborough in their place.
           Fueled by months of suppressed anger, Spencer manages to cross the room in about two seconds. He has several inches on the detective, standing at an intimidating six-foot one inch in height, so when he comes to a stop right in front of the detective, he’s looming over him threateningly.
           “I’m her fucking boyfriend, and if you so much as try to touch her again, I’ll break your goddamn hand,” Spencer spits out, and he’d be lying if he said the way Trevor’s eyes widen in fear doesn’t thrill him. “Are we clear?”
           “Uh, yeah. Sorry, dude,” Trevor splutters, raising his hands in surrender. “Didn’t know she was taken. My bad.”
           Spencer tears his eyes away from the detective and takes in the way you’re watching on with an amused expression. He reaches out, and you’re quick to place your hand in his. Without speaking another word to the detective, Spencer leads you from the room and out the back entrance of the precinct.
           “What was that?” you tease, eyes glistening mischievously underneath the street lights. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t taking things public just yet?”
           Spencer crowds you against the brick wall of the building, pressing his body flush against yours. He ducks down swiftly, pulling you into a frenzied kiss. His lips drag against yours relentlessly, and all it takes is one breathy moan before he’s licking into your mouth possessively. Spencer slots his knee in between your legs, simultaneously groping at your chest with one hand as the other tangles in your hair.
           When Spencer pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck as you writhe against him, hands clinging tightly to his dress shirt. You whimper when his teeth nip at the tender spot right under your ear, and you can’t help the way your hips cant up when Spencer’s tongue brushes against reddened skin.
           “I’m tired of pretending,” Spencer murmurs as his mouth continues to move against you, sucking purple bruises against your flesh. “Don’t fucking care about how it will affect the job. Tomorrow, everyone’s gonna know that you’re mine. Gonna mark every inch of you tonight – gonna fuck you until you can’t fucking walk.”
           “Please,” you slur as you guide Spencer’s hand down until his fingers graze the end of your skirt. Spencer chuckles darkly against your neck when his hand brushes against the soiled lace of your panties.
           “Didn’t mean I’d fuck you right here,” he laughs, prompting you to let out an impatient whine. The hand that was previously tangled in your hair slides down until it’s wrapped around your throat, and Spencer’s cock twitches eagerly in his pants when you push your throat harder into his palm. “Such a needy little slut for me. Ready and willing for me to fuck you out in the open, where anyone could walk by and see how fucking desperate you are for my cock.”
           “M’ your slut,” you pant as Spencer’s middle and index fingers ghost across your center. “Only yours, Spence. I don’t care who sees, just - please fuck me!”
           “I fucking own you,” Spencer growls against your lips as he tightens his hold on your throat. “And as much as I’d love to take you right against this wall, the things I have planned for you would elicit quite an audience. I know how loud you like to be.”
           Spencer pushes your panties to the side and you let out a low hiss as he drags a finger across where want him most. You cry out in frustration when he removes his hand to bring it up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick his finger clean.
           “Just needed a little taste to tide me over,” Spencer murmurs, smirking devilishly at you as he steps back from you. “Let’s head back to the hotel. I’ve got lots I wanna do to you, pretty girl.”
--
           As soon as the door to the hotel room clicks shut, clothes are flying off as the two of you make your way to the bed. It’s a mad dash as you both undress, and as soon as the last garment leaves your body, Spencer pounces on you. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and the way you immediately go pliant as Spencer’s mouth works against yours makes him hum appreciatively.
           “Don’t feel like being nice tonight. Are you gonna let me use that pretty little pussy however I want?” Spencer inquires, though he already knows the answer. He’s known how tonight would pan out ever since the first roll of your hips against his back at the police station.
           You nod fervently, hopelessly, and Spencer moves his hand up to grip your chin in his hand. The pad of his thumb traces over the swollen skin of your kiss bruised lips.
           “What about this?” he asks, tapping lightly against your lip. “Are you gonna let me fuck this slutty little mouth of yours?” Spencer slips his thumb into your mouth and you immediately close your lips around the digit, suckling lightly. Your eyes never leave his.
           “You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you, pet?” Spencer muses, pressing his thumb farther into your mouth until you gag around him. Spencer withdraws his thumb and his hand tugs hard on the hair at the back of your scalp. “Open.”
           You oblige immediately, and Spencer spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being instructed, and the visual of it makes Spencer let out a low groan.
           “Get on your knees,” Spencer barks out, and the way you scramble to follow his order makes him let out a chuckle. “So eager to have my cock in your mouth,” he hums as he taps his dick teasingly against your cheek. You open your mouth wide for him, and Spencer guides your mouth down onto his dick at a tantalizingly slow pace. You let out a moan as you hollow your cheeks around his head, tongue lapping greedily at the precum that gathered there before Spencer makes you take him deeper.
           “Everyone thinks you’re such an innocent little thing, but here you are, letting me use you like a cheap whore while you enjoy every minute of it,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as you moan wantonly around his cock. It isn’t until he’s halfway down your throat that your eyes begin to water, mascara running down your cheeks as he fucks into your mouth.
           Spencer lets out a choked sound when your nose brushes against the skin of his abdomen, and he has to fight the urge to throw his head back in pleasure. He doesn’t want to look away, not even for a moment. Not when you’re looking up at him like that, tears running down your face as you swallow around his length.
           He pulls you off him just the tiniest bit before he’s forcing you back down, a string of curses falling from his lips as your head bobs up and down.
           “You take my cock so well, pretty girl,” Spencer praises, prompting you to let out a muffled moan around him. The vibrations send a shock of pleasure through him and he can help the way his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby. You like it when I tell you what a perfect little whore you are, don’t you?”
           You’re unable to answer, because Spencer presses down on the back of your head until you’ve taken all of him again. The pressure he puts on you doesn’t relent, not even when you gag around him.
           “Fucking choke on it, slut,” Spencer grunts. “Don’t act like you don’t want this. You were just begging me to fuck you in an alley not twenty minutes ago, like some pathetic fucking tramp. You wanna act like a tramp, I’m gonna treat you like one.”
           Spencer’s lips curl into a debauched grin when your hands come up and grip the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer and further down your throat.
           “That’s what I fucking thought,” Spencer moans, giving several more harsh thrusts before pulling you off of him completely. Spencer reaches down to wipe at the spit that coats your lips as you look up at him with a shy smile.
           “You okay, pretty girl?” Spencer asks as he caresses the side of your face.
           “Mm,” you hum, nuzzling your face against his palm. “Keep going, please. Don’t hold back.”
           “God, I fucking love you,” Spencer sighs happily. “Get on the bed.”
           By the time Spencer fishes a tie out of his suitcase, you’re sprawled out across the bed, head resting against the pillows with your legs spread wide. Your teeth are nestled against your bottom lip as you watch him stalk towards you, eyes running up and down his naked figure appreciatively.
           Spencer crawls onto the bed until he’s settled in between your legs. You present your wrists to him, just like you’ve done a million times before, and Spencer feels that familiar thrum of excitement rush through his body. He fucking lives for moments like these – moments where all his problems melt away to nothing. Moments where he has no other thought than wrecking you, thoroughly and completely.
           Once your wrists are bound you hold them above you, and Spencer sits back on his heels, eyes raking up and down every inch of you.
           “M’ so fucking lucky to be the only one who gets to see you like this.”
           Spencer pinches your right nipple in between his fingers and you let out a squeak, hips bucking up, desperate for some friction. He kneads your breast in his hand as he lowers his mouth to the other one, tongue laving around you. A light nip from his teeth is all that it takes for you to cry out, eyelids fluttering closed.
           “Spence, please. Need you to touch me now, pl-”
           Spencer’s hand connecting with your cheek stops you from finishing your sentence.
           “Do not tell me what to do,” Spencer seethes, once again gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. “Ungrateful slut. I should just leave you here, fucking dripping and desperate for a release that you won’t get. Maybe then you’d learn to take what’s given to you.”
           “Please, no! I’ll be good, I swear. I’m sorry!”
           Spencer narrows his eyes at you, contemplative.
           “Open.”
           You do as he says, and without another word Spencer inserts two fingers into your mouth, pressing down hard on your tongue.
           “Get them nice and wet, and maybe I’ll think about using them on you.”
           You do as he tells you, and by the time Spencer removes his fingers from your mouth, you’re trembling underneath him from anticipation.
           “D-Did I do good?” you stutter out, batting your lashes at him as you squirm under his gaze.
           “So good, baby. I think you’ve earned my fingers,” Spencer hums. “Need you to be still, okay? You’re not gonna like what happens if you try to move.”
           You nod enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers brush across your clit. Spencer spends ample time rubbing deliciously slow circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, relishing in every gasp and whimper that falls from your lips. Lips that he’d very much like to kiss, so he does, and you’re more than happy to reciprocate. Spencer lets out a happy sigh into your mouth.
           You get lost in the kiss, so lost in the way that Spencer licks into your mouth that it catches you completely off guard when he slides two fingers into you.
           “Oh, God,” you moan when Spencer curls his fingers against your walls, fucking them in and out of you, slow and unrelenting.
           “S’that feel good, princess?” Spencer asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tell me how it feels.”
           Your head falls back against the pillows as you struggle to keep your hips firmly placed on the mattress.
           “Feels amazing, Spence. Always feels so good with you. Never want anyone else, only you.”
           And fuck, if that sentiment doesn’t shoot straight to his heart - amongst other places. Spencer places a tender kiss to your cheek before he’s moving down to your neck and sucking a bruise right under your jaw.
           “Yeah?” Spencer prompts. “Not even that stupid fucking detective? I’m sure he’d love a chance to see you like this.”
           “So, you were jealous,” you chuckle between moans, and Spencer bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder.
           “F-Fuck, Spencer!”
           “Should I be jealous?” Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers, scissoring them at such an unforgiving pace that you can’t help but roll your hips against them.
           You regret this instantly, because Spencer’s fingers immediately pull out of you, leaving you empty and cold. Spencer tuts, shaking his head disappointedly.
           “Dumb little whore can’t even sit still long enough to cum on my fingers.”
           “Please, let me try again. I’ll do better, I promise!”
           Spencer shakes his head and scoots up until his back is rested against the pillows.
           “C’mere,” he commands. “Lay across my lap. Or can you not follow simple commands?”
           “I-I can,” you whisper as you crawl across him, splaying out so that you rest on your elbows with your ass in the air.
           Spencer grabs a handful of your ass and kneads it in his hands.
           “How many do you think you deserve?”
           You blush and smile shyly at him from over your shoulder.
           “However many you want to give me. I can take it.”
           Spencer returns your smile.
           “Good answer. I think you can handle fifteen. How does that sound?”
           “Sounds perfect. T-Thank you, Spencer,” you mumble, cheeks burning red. Spencer continues to caress the tender skin of your bare ass, admiring the way the skin is completely blank; the perfect canvas.
           You let out a whimper when his hand comes down hard on your ass before kneading the sensitive, reddening skin.
           “T-Thank you,” you gasp out, and Spencer is quick to follow up with another strike against the opposite cheek.
           It goes on like this until it’s time for the fifteenth strike, and by then you’ve devolved into garbled whines, ass bright red and marked up with the imprint of Spencer’s hands. His dick is painfully hard underneath you, and you’re in a similar state – arousal dripping onto Spencer’s thigh, coating it.
           “Last one, baby. Do you think you can handle it?”
          “Y-Yes,” you choke out. “Please, I need it. Hurt me, please.”
           The desperation in your voice does things to him, makes him practically feral with the need to fucking tear you apart, and Spencer is quick to deliver the final blow. You barely even have it in you to cry out anymore – a feeble sob is all that falls from your lips.
          Spencer’s hand ghosts down across your bruised skin until his fingertips trace over where you drip for him.
          “You like it when I punish you, don’t you, dirty girl?” Spencer hums as his fingers glide over your soaked folds. 
          “Y-Yes,” you mewl, shifting so that your cunt grinds back onto his hand. Spencer indulges you - allows you to rock your hips against his palm as he watches on in awe, soaking up every desperate sound that tumbles past your lips. 
          Spencer pulls his hand away after a moment and you keen in protest.
           “Can you sit up for me, sweet girl?” Spencer asks, and you nod, because of course you do – you’d do anything if you thought it’d please him. You struggle to pull yourself up with shaky limbs, and Spencer puts a hand on your lower back to steady you. “Can you straddle my leg? Yeah, just like that.” Spencer pulls you down and places a slow kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to wipe away the tears gliding down your face. After a moment of slow, sweet kisses are shared, Spencer unties your wrists.
           “I want you to ride my thigh – can you do that, princess?”
           You whimper as you lower yourself down onto his leg, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rock against the hardened muscle of his leg.
           Spencer continues placing kisses on your lips, your face, your neck – worshipping every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth, all while whispering praises against you.
           “So perfect for me. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs as he grips your hips with steady hands, urging you to increase the speed of your hips. “Can’t wait to have that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock. Always so tight, yet you take it so well every time.”
           “S-Spence, m’ close,” you slur, hands clinging desperately to his shoulders.
           “Already? You usually last a bit longer than that, baby.”
           “P-Please, Spencer, I can’t-” you whimper, tears once again pricking at the corners of your eyes at the thought of having to wait a second longer.
           “Shh, baby. It’s okay, you can cum,” Spencer reassures you, and your shoulders visibly untense. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”
           It takes two more rolls of your hips for you to cum on Spencer’s thigh with a cry of his name. Spencer rubs soothing circles into your hips as you ride out your high, murmuring broken thank yous as you come down.
           Finally, you still, and your eyes open, pupils so dilated that your eyes look almost black in the dim light of the hotel room.
          “You okay, princess?”
           You give a weak nod.
           “M’great,” you smile, sounding as fucked out as he’s ever heard you. You lean down and slot your mouth against his, and the kiss is slow and languid – soft and unhurried.
            Spencer is the first to pull away.
           “Need you to get on all fours for me,” he instructs. “Don’t think you need to put any pressure on that pretty little ass of yours right now.”
           You giggle at that, before crawling off of Spencer’s lap. You assume the position, and Spencer places a pillow underneath your hips before trailing a line of kisses down your spine. By the time he reaches your ass, you’re writing against him, wiggling your hips eagerly. Spencer places a kiss to both of your bruised cheeks before pulling away.
           You let out a startled oh! when Spencer licks up your center, parting you with his fingers before fucking in and out of you with his tongue.
           “S-Spence, oh my God, yes!” you cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he continues to work his mouth against your core.
           “Love your fucking pussy so much,” Spencer sighs against you, lapping at your clit hungrily. “Could fucking lick you out for hours. You taste so perfect, Y/N.”
            Spencer lets out a filthy groan against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, wrecked moans filling the otherwise silent hotel room. This orgasm hits you both quicker and harder than the first, and he can’t help but smile against you as you rock back against his face, desperate to prolong the sensation. Spencer continues to work you through your orgasm, stopping only when you cease to twitch underneath him.
           “Such a good girl for me. Think you can handle one more?”
            You raise up just enough that you can look at him from over your shoulder.
           “Yes, please,” you beg, voice scratchy and raw. “Please, fuck me.”
           “Yes, ma’am,” Spencer chuckles. “Do you think you can lay on your back? I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.”
           You answer by rolling over, wincing slightly when your ass comes in contact with the sheets. You look up at Spencer with wide, doe eyes. You have mascara smeared all down your cheeks and your lips are swollen, and to top it all off, deep, purple love bites are dusted across the entire expanse of your neck and chest. Spencer had set out to mark you as his – so that no one would be able to deny that you belonged to him – and he’d done a spectacular job, if he said so himself.
           “God, you’re so fucking pretty.”
           “Then come fuck me already,” you challenge, looking sated in every possible way – yet still, your eyes hold the same hunger that he’s sure is reflected in his own eyes.
           Spencer leans down and traps your lips in a bruising kiss, and without warning he thrusts in you to the hilt. You cry out into the kiss, startled by the sudden intrusion, but Spencer sets a brutal pace that leaves you no time to recover.
           “You said you wanted me to fuck you,” he growls against your lips. “Now fucking take it.”
           He’s fucking into you so hard that you can’t even manage a reply – you just tighten your legs around his waist and drag your nails across the expanse of his back, no doubt leaving bright red marks in your wake. Spencer can feel his own release fast approaching – honestly, he’s been close ever since the first drag of his tongue against your pussy. And now that he’s finally enveloped into your tight, wet heat, that all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach is threatening to consume him.
           Spencer’s hand descends from its place next to your head down to your clit, and your whole body jolts with the first swipe of his thumb. You clench around him as a litany of particularly filthy utterances escapes you, and Spencer’s hips stutter.
           “Fuck, princess,” he groans, head coming to rest on your shoulder as he struggles to regain his rhythm. “You don’t even know what you do to me. You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Never fucking want to lose you. Love you so much.”
           “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you chant into his ear, sounding like some kind of siren, luring him straight to his inevitable ruination. “I’m so close, Spence. Cum with me, please? I want to feel you. Please, baby.”
           “Y-Yeah, fuck,” Spencer chokes out. “Say my name when you cum, princess. Want everyone to know how good I fuck you.”
           And when you cum with a shout of his name, walls pulsating deliciously around his cock, Spencer is quick to join you. He continues to roll his hips against yours as you both ride it out, whispers of almost intelligible affirmations being shared between slow, loving kisses.
           After a moment of post-orgasm bliss, Spencer leaves and returns with a bottle of cocoa butter lotion and a warm, wet rag. You watch on with heavy lidded eyes as he cleans you up, and for a moment, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. It’s not until he finishes slathering your reddened backside with lotion that you speak again.
           “You shouldn’t be jealous, by the way,” you murmur as he lays down beside you. “You’re it for me, Spencer Reid. I don’t ever want you to doubt that I’m anything less than crazy about you.”
           It’s everything that Spencer’s ever wanted to hear, and just like that, every fear – every insecurity that had plagued him in the past several months – fell away to nothing. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever been worried in the first place.
           “You’re it for me, too,” Spencer whispers as he pulls you until his arms and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.
           “We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, you know,” you remark as you nuzzle into Spencer’s side.
           “Don’t care,” he sighs happily. “I’ll shout it from the roof tops if I have to. I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”
           “You’re a sap, Doctor Reid.”
           “Only for you.”
           A moment of blissful silence passes, before the sound of your growling stomach sets you both into a fit of giggles.
           “We never did get dinner, did we?” Spencer muses as he lightly runs his fingernails across your scalp. You hum appreciatively and a pleased shiver rolls through you.
           “Nope. You were a little too preoccupied with marking your territory to even offer to feed me,” you tease as you run your fingertips down the planes of his chest.
           “Well, now that that’s been taken care of - could I interest you in some takeout?”
          “Possibly,” you sigh, flattening your palm on his chest, right over his heart. “Do you think that pizza place Trevor mentioned delivers?”
          “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
          “Is that a no?”
          “... Look up the number.”
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mercy-burning · 3 years ago
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Affection
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k
MASTERLIST
NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!
———
I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—
That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.
With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.
"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"
Thinking about it made her blood boil.
"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"
The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.
Well... She could.
He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.
It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.
Nothing was working.
And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.
"Hey!"
Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)
"Hey! Dumbass!"
Still nothing.
As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.
"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"
"I hate you."
It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.
If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.
Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.
She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."
"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."
His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.
"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"
"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.
Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"
Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.
"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."
"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."
She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.
She just... had to figure out how to make that true.
Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."
Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.
The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.
To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.
The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.
As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...
Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.
"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."
He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.
"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"
Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.
She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.
"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.
They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.
TWO WEEKS LATER
Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.
It was a nightmare.
The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.
God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...
Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.
He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.
But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.
Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.
Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.
Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.
Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.
"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."
She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.
"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."
He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.
"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."
While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.
"Hm."
Y/N sighed. "What?"
"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."
Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."
"Sure."
Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.
So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.
And now that it was right in front of her?
She didn't know what to make of it.
"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.
Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"
"Do what?"
"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"
Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"
"That's not... That's not what that was!"
"Oh really? Then what was it?"
"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."
The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...
But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.
"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"
Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."
She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.
"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"
When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.
In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."
"It's so fun."
"You know what, screw you."
"Is that a promise?"
"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"
She didn't let him finish.
In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.
Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.
And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.
He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"
Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."
"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."
She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"
He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."
"And... You're not messing with me this time?"
With a laugh,  Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."
Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."
He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.
———
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reidsnose · 4 years ago
Text
Black Eye
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overview: reader and spencer go to reader's highschool reunion as a fake couple
genre: fluff i think
warnings: mild violence and swearing, a guy being kind of a total creep, and mentions of bullying
a/n: idk if its any good again just love the idea but it was inspired by a dream i had last night (thank you temporal lobe) so yeah let me know what yall think !! :) also im posting this at like ass oclock in the morning so whoops
masterlist
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you and spencer had gotten yourselves in quite the situation.
your dreaded highschool reunion was just around the corner and you made the mistake of complaining about it to penelope. she was always trying to make everyones life easier (and more interesting) so when she heard you had no date she took it upon herself to find you one.
it didn't take a lot of looking, none at all actually; because Penelope had already been trying to figure out ways to get you and Reid together.
you two were undeniably perfect for each other. you were an amazing team at work, you hung out alone all the time (though both of you denied these hang out as being dates, Garcia had her own ideas on this), and you were both very obliviously head over heels for each other.
and somehow, through the magical ways of Penelope Garcia, you and Spencer were now sitting in the parking lot, fake married for your high school reunion.
"do we need to go over our back story again?" you worried, looking up at him.
"our backstory is basically all true anyway we just fall in love after a little bit. and i have an eidetic memory so i remember; you're my wife you should know this!" he joked, trying to relax you. "we got this! we're gonna be so married!"
Spencer had actually never been this nervous in his life but he was trying to be brave for you. it would be more embarrassing for you both to show up like nervous wrecks than if you had just come alone. he was just happy to get to be fake married to you.
"the marriedest!" smiled, fist bumping him.
"now lets go make some people jealous!" he chuckled getting out of the car and jogging over to your side, opening your door before you got the chance to; like a true gentleman.
you stuck out your hand which he happily took into his, neither of you commenting on the redness you both had sprinkled across your cheeks. as you walked in, you saw all the people you dreaded seeing.
the boys who tormented you were balding and the girls who made sure you felt awful everyday had wrinkles riddling there skin. you were surrounded by botched botox and bleached blonde to cover graying hair. you felt terrible to admit it, but you were a little happy to see that their beauty had faded like this; they made their looks their whole personality in high school, you couldn't help but wonder what was left for them to be. not that it mattered, but you and Spencer were undeniably the most attractive couple there.
you actually had an ok time, you had spotted a few of your friends that you hadn't seen in quite a few years and it was nice to catch up.
Spencer had wondered a bit, but not too far, he was talking to some guys who used to be in science club when you were younger. you smiled at the thought of what they might be talking about.
"y/n! hey youve really filled out!" you heard a gruff voice from behind you.
you turned around and were met with the very unappealing face of the ex quarterback. Spencers attention had been caught at the sound of your name.
"um..hello," you muttered, trying to covertly back away from him.
"i see youve got a ring, interesting i dont remember us getting married!" he said in an incredibly creepy tone.
"do you know im a federal agent now?" you said through a gritted smile.
spencer had already begun walking towards you, he could tell something was off.
"ill tell you what sweetheart," he put his hand on your shoulder, pulling you slightly closer to him, "you can put me in handcuffs any day."
you threw his hand off of you and drew back your fist, but were cut off before you could deliver the punch but his hand engulfing your own, and squeezing.
"THATS MY WIFE!" spencer yelled in a voice you had never heard from him before.in the blink of an eye he was standing between in front of him. "do not ever talk to her like that, let alone lay a finger on her or so help me God i will-"
"what beanpole? what are you gonna do? what if i did this?" the man asked.
and then he sent a swift punch to Spencer's face.
thats gonna leave a mark.
in a matter of seconds, Spencer had him overpowered, laying face first on the floor with his hands uncomfortably angled behind him, completely helpless.
"now i'm going to let you go and you're going to walk out of here unharmed. if you try anything like that again, ill let my wife handle you. and i promise if she gets a hold of you, you'll be a dead son of a bitch." Spencer muttered in the mans ear, gruffly pulling him up by his collar and shoving him towards the door.
"were leaving." you said, grabbing Spencer's hand, trying to ignore how incredibly attractive he looked right now.
"babe if you want to stay we can stay," he offered as if he didn't just have his shit kicked in by a coward with misogynistic tendencies.
"honey, i want to take you home," you smiled, liking the way it felt to call him a pet name. you walked into the parking lot, "what were you thinking?"
"i was thinking this guy is trying to hurt you and i was not going to ever let that happen." he answered confidently as you two reached the car. "plus this totally made the marriage thing more believable. i wouldn't get a black eye for just anyone."
"thank you. i'm sorry you got punched trying to protect me." you sighed, feeling incredibly awful about the whole thing.
he chuckled, "id do it again."
you fought hard against the blush creeping up your face.
"i gotta say, the black eye really suits you. you look pretty badass." you chuckled, trying to change the subject before it got too sappy and you said something you shouldn't.
"maybe it should just be my new look," he joked, looking down at a ping from his phone. "uh oh."
"we have a case?" you asked.
"yep. and hotch wants us in the office asap which means we cont stop by either of our houses." he sighed before starting the car.
the drive was mostly silent. but a comfortable silence. Spencer thought about how in the moment, he didn't care how many punches the guy threw at him, as long as it meant you were ok, he was willing to take it. he knew he loved you far before that moment but that truly solidified it.
at the same time you were thinking of how quickly your time as a 'married couple' was over. it felt so right to call Spencer yours. so unexplainably perfect for the two of you to be together. if only your time wasn't cut short by a sucker punch.
you neared the building's parking lot. you looked over at Spencer who you could very easily tell was lost in his own world.
"whats going on in that beautiful head of yours?" you asked, causing him to stifle a smile.
"just thinking." he answered.
"what about?"
"us." he stated, pulling into his parking spot.
oh. oh.
"do tell."
he hesitated, "if i tell you, and you disagree, do you promise it wont change anything about us?"
"i promise."
"did it feel right to you? us being together?" he asked, his eyes innocent and filled to the brim with a mixture of anxiety and adoration as he looked at you.
"yes. it absolutely did. and i was so mad at the assclown for cutting our time short," you admitted, "and punching you in the eye, obviously."
"i- i'm not sure how to ask this but- do you...would you..sorry i-" he stammered.
"yes."
you cut him off, pressing your lips to his. his hand gently cupped your face, deepening the kiss and you both felt like you were on cloud nine.
"thats exactly what i was trying to say," he cracked a dopey smile, causing you to chuckle.
"i've been trying to say it for so long." you confessed, causing him to smile impossibly wider, "we gotta go hotch is waiting."
"just one more kiss?" he asked, which you gave in to, obviously. and then another. and another.
maybe it was good thing that he got a black eye that day, because when you got to the office the whole team was so focused on it they didn't even notice the hint of your lipstick left on spencers lips.
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ultra mega super cool taglist:
@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos
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Text
#1 Fan [Part 1/2]
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Summary: Spencer knows he’s seen his new neighbor somewhere before.
A/N: This was a blurb request from my sideblog that got completely out of hand so here she is as a full fic! (We’re gonna pretend like I know how OnlyFans works)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff & Smut 
Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, masturbation (male & female), voyeurism(?), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!
Word count: 2.9k
Request: “Blurb about basically the same fic as the other one except she just moved in and he recognizes her as the person he subs to on OF. She’s describing her hot neighbor- and yeah” from @thatsonezesty13​
Masterlist
Read Part 2 Here
The first time Spencer sees her in the lobby grabbing her mail he thinks he’s in a dream. Or maybe he’s seeing things. For a second he’s terrified that he’s having a hyper-realistic, yet somehow mundane, wet dream.
He’s been subscribed to her for a while. To be honest once he’d found her account he didn’t have much of a need to subscribe to anyone else. She was almost tailor made for him, it was sort of scary.
So when he saw her that day, and she smiled at him, giving him a small wave as she passed him in the hall, his heart all but stopped.
That night he checked her page. He compared the pictures of the sweet girl in the hall with the ones in front of him. The photos where she was wearing next to nothing, or sometimes nothing at all. The ones where she had her fingers inside of her panties, or her mouth.
He ended up spiraling that evening, partially forgetting why he was even looking in the first place. Until he was watching videos of her, fucking into herself with a toy until she was squirting onto her bedsheets.
The following morning when he woke up he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t her. How could it be? And if it was, would he have to stop looking? Something felt a bit perverted about that.
So he pushed the thoughts from his head. And that lasted all of 10 seconds because there was a knock on his front door. When he opened it up it was her standing there, the girl from the mailboxes, and the girl from the videos. He knew they were one and the same, who was he kidding?
“Hi!” She sticks out her hand to introduce herself, “I think I saw you the other day, I’ve just moved into the building, Y/N.”
He knows her name already, well he knows her first name, and part of him’s a little surprised it’s not fake.
He takes a moment to consider her hand, he wouldn’t usually shake a strangers hand like this but for some reason he didn’t feel like she was a stranger. The real reason her didn’t want to shake her hand was because of all the things he’d pictured her doing with them. Touching herself, touching him.
But he’s hesitated for too long, so he takes her hand, shaking it gently, “Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to— uh, meet you” he has to force his breaths out or they might not come. Looking at her up close, in person, she was too beautiful. And he already thought that about her pictures.
“Well it’s nice to meet you, I always like to know the folks in my building. And especially you if we’re gonna be neighbors”
“Neighbors?” He tries to stop his eyes from popping out of his head but she doesn’t seem to notice. She just nods happily.
“Yup, I’m right on the other side of that wall” she points to her right and giggles, “knock if you need me” she jokes but Spencer’s breathing stops entirely and he can only nod.
“So um, if you wanted to hang out or anything you know where to find me” she smiles at him and starts to head back to her apartment.
He’s not sure what’s come over him, but it feels like adrenaline is coursing through his entire body as he speaks.
“I’m free right now if you’re not busy?” He asks before she can get too far away but she shakes her head.
“I’ve actually gotta head out for a bit but if you’re free tomorrow do you wanna come over and see my place. I’m sure it’s probably the exact same as yours but—”
“Yes!— I mean, um, yeah, that sounds nice, cool” she laughs at him a little, probably at his eagerness, or maybe at the way he’s blushing, he can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.
“See you then Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid” she giggles and he’s smitten already.
— —
He’s pretty much counting down the seconds until the following evening. His mind is completely restless, he’s got no idea what to wear or how to act, or what to say.
She was just so pretty, he could barely have a 2 minute conversation with her in the hallway. How was he supposed to hang out with her for an evening.
She slips a note under his door the following afternoon:
I’m on my way out but I should be back around 8! See you then x
He wishes he didn’t stare at the little ‘x’ on the note for quite so long but he couldn’t help it. Even her handwriting was cute.
He doesn’t want to think about why he knows her already but he can’t help it. He decides that he’s not going to look at her page again, taking a cold shower as part of his preparation for that evening before agonizing over what to wear.
He settles on a purple sweater and he already feels like he’s made the wrong call somehow as he’s knocking on her door at 8pm on the dot.
“Well aren’t you punctual” she smiles at him as she pulls open the door. His stomach drops when he realizes that he recognizes the little dress she’s wearing. He’s seen her take it off before. He tries to steady his breathing but it doesn’t work super well so he just waves hello as she ushers him inside.
“I guess you got my note then” she smiles and he smiles back.
“Yeah, your— um— handwriting is really nice” he wants to slap himself in the face. What kind of complement was that?
“Thank you?” she giggles at him, “no ones ever said that before, you’re a bit of an oddball” she points him to the sofa so he sits.
When she comes to sit next to him she’s holding a bottle of wine and two glasses and he has to stop his eyes from bulging out of his head.
“Would you like a glass?” She asks and he nods his head, it probably wasn’t a great idea, but neither was any of this. She hands him a glass of wine and takes the seat next to him on the couch, turning to face him as she tucks her legs up under herself.
“So Spencer Reid, what kind of doctor are you?” she asks as she takes a sip from her own glass.
“I’m—um— I work at the FBI actually, I— I’m a profiler” he’s already conscious that he doesn’t want to bore her by harping on about work, or by rambling like he does right before people usually roll their eyes. But she doesn’t, she leans in.
“That’s so cool, well it sounds like it is anyway? Does that mean you read people or something?” her eyes look like they're after lighting up and she's smiling at him encouraging.
“Y-Yeah? It’s sort of like reading people I guess. We catch killers by getting inside their heads in a way, trying to figure out why they’re doing what they’re doing, and hopefully what they’re gonna do next so that we can stop it. It’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist” he’s smiling now too, the way she’s looking at him makes him feel like he’s actually doing a sort of good job not embarrassing himself.
“So you said my handwriting was nice” she says, gears clearly turning, “Can you read anything about me from that?” she looks like she's challenging him, if he didn’t know better he might call it flirting.
“Well actually graphology—sorry— handwriting analysis has been deemed a pseudoscience by most, the validity of handwriting as evidence in court has always been dubious and many of the techniques used today are the same as those employed in Renaissance England.” he rambles but she’s still engaged when he stops speaking.
“So you’re smart smart, huh?” she smiles at him, and he nods.
“I don’t believe intelligence can be neatly quantified but I do have an IQ of 187” he feels paradoxically stupid saying that, it feels like bragging or something and he already wants to take it back.
“Wow, a doctor with an IQ of 187” she takes a second to mull it over, “What are you doing hanging out with the likes of me?” she jokes, but his eyebrows knit together, he had no idea what she did, other than that thing he knew she did.
“I wouldn't sell yourself short like that, what do you do?” he asks her, at the very least it’ll stop him from spiraling.
“I work in a vintage bookstore, the one two blocks over?” She motions behind her as she tells him, and he knows it well, in fact he spends so much time there that he’s shocked he’d never seen her before.
“You work there? I’m there all the time, how have I never noticed you before?” she chuckles at him.
“I’ve only just started, I just moved in, remember?” and he wants to slap himself again, something about being around such a pretty face slashed that impressive IQ in half.
They spend another while and the rest of the bottle of wine getting to know each other before Spencer has to call it a night. Part of him wished that she was boring, or rude, or hated him, then maybe he’d be able to quell his infatuation. But this just made it worse, now that he knew her, now that he had spoken to her and she was so sweet, so smart, so funny, and still so damn pretty. He was absolutely fucked.
— —
He swears to himself that the wont look at her page again. Now that he knew her and he liked her more than he even did before, it felt like a real invasion. Part of him still felt bad about it in general, like he should've told her right away, been up front. But the moment for that had already passed so this was his next best plan.
Until he returns home the following Friday. He’s exhausted when he crawls into bed but he’s still somehow restless, the gears still turning in is brain. So he does what he always does when he wants to forget about everything else in the world.
His muscle memory opens it up, and he’s on her page before he even realizes he's done it. And she’s posted a few new videos this week. He wishes he had better willpower, or any willpower at all, but he can’t seem to stop himself from clicking on one.
It begins with her kneeling on her bed, wearing lingerie he’d seen before, it was baby pink and it was one of his favorites. She starts by dipping her fingers into her panties, teasing herself as little moans toppled from her lips. Then she started talking.
“I’m gonna tell you guys about a little dream I had last night, well, I’ve been having it all week really” she continues to tease herself a little, her other hand coming up to grab her breast over her soft pink bra as she speaks. Her voice is smooth and perfect, if he only had the audio he’d still be turned on right now.
“It goes like this. I’m lying in this bed right here, doing something a little like this, when there’s a knock at my front door. When I get up to answer it he’s there, with his shaggy brown hair, and his huge doe eyes, and he’s got these lips that are just so fuckin’ pink. I want them all over me. He comes inside and he grabs me with those huge hands of his and he pulls me right into him before he kisses me.” she moans a little as her fingers brush right up against her clit, but Spencer’s vision has almost gone blurry.
He’s not sure he’s even breathing when she starts talking again. “Then I lead him to my bedroom, and I get him out of those clothes. He dresses like an english teacher and I wish I didn’t find it so fuckin’ hot. Sometimes in the fantasy I take his cock in my mouth, I suck him off until he’s whimpering. Other times I can’t wait, I just need him to fuck me right away.” she takes off her panties then, leaving them to one side, while she grabs a toy from her bedside table.
“I like to fuck myself with this, but all week I’ve just been imagining that it’s him. He’s just so pretty, I know his cock has to be too. I want to know what it feels like when he’s buried inside me, so fuckin’ deep” she continues to fuck herself with the toy, and he’s tuned back in now, he’s achingly hard without even noticing, his hand wrapping around his cock as he pictures the other side of that fantasy.
It doesn’t take long before he's releasing, spilling all over his hand in tandem with the video. She takes a moment to relax, steadying out her breathing before she speaks to the camera again.
“I think I have a crush guys” she gasps out, “I moved, and I think I’ve got a crush on my fuckin’ neighbor already”
Not that he needed any more confirmation, but those words hit him like a fucking train.
It’s already midnight, it’s not so late that he couldn’t go over there, but it sort of is late enough that he shouldn’t. He really can’t bring himself to care though, getting out of bed and cleaning himself up he decides to ride this uncharacteristically confident wave as far as it’ll take him.
He’s knocking on her door before he’s had a chance to second guess himself. When she answers she’s in a little robe, it’s ivory and satin, and he recognizes it too. He doesn’t say anything, neither does she. They just look at each other for a little too long, eyes taking each other in. He wants to lean in and kiss her, just like in her fantasy, but he’s not that guy.
“Hi” he breathes out instead, “I know it’s late, sorry, I shouldn’t be here—but I— I just wanna say” he pauses to take in a labored breath, “I like you a lot and I think you’re really pretty and funny and smart and would you wanna go out sometime? With me? Maybe?” he doesn't realize he’s closed this eyes until he’s got to pry them back open.
“Well that’s not how the fantasy was supposed to go” she giggles, her eyelashes fluttering as she looks up at him and the blush that’s steadily spreading up his face and neck.
“What do you— I don’t— what?” he’s stammering, doing a god awful job of playing dumb.
“In my video, you were just supposed to kiss me. This isn’t as sexy but it is a hell of a lot better”
“I don’t— I’m not—” he can’t get a sentence out, he’s got no idea what’s happening right now.
“It’s alright Dr. 187, I know it’s you” some part of him genuinely wants to throw up. Why did he think that would be an innocuous username. He was the stupidest genius alive.
“I’m sorry, I should've told you. I had no idea how, I just never thought— how could I have known you’d move in next door to me? And that you’d be even prettier in person but you’d be so cool too” he’s got to cut himself off before he really starts apologetically rambling.
“Spencer stop. It’s fine. I make that content for people to enjoy, you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. I made that video because I wanted you to see it, that was intentional.” she reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder, and it’s more comforting than it has any right to be.
“Was that—your fantasy—the uh the video—were you telling the truth?” he can feel his heart absolutely racing in his chest as he waits for the answer. And she breaks out in a huge smile, nodding up at him.
“Every word.” he doesn’t let himself overthink it this time, he just leans right in, pressing his lips to hers. It’s soft and gentle, a sweet kiss rather than a heated one, it’s not just infatuation, there are feelings behind it now. He can feel her lips smiling against his own and his heart’s fit to burst now.
When they break apart she looks giddy with excitement, her hands come down to the little bow that holds her robe closed, toying with the ends of the tie. “I’m actually about to make a video now if you’d like to see behind the scenes?” she asks and his breath gets stuck in his throat.
“Fuck” he rasps, “You’ve got no idea how much I want to do that” he pauses, scolding himself in his head already, “But I think I wanna take you to dinner first, if you still want that?”
She’s grinning at him again, “I still really want that, tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night.”
-- --
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insufferablelust · 4 years ago
Note
Cockwarming Don Reid with his men in the next room
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Warning : Cockwarming, mob boss! Spencer, Mean dom!spencer, mention of killing, degrading name calling, filthy.. so fucking filthy, exhibitionism, literally almost fucking in front of people, mention of sub space, d/s theme obviously, and yeah.. 18+ please.
MASTERLIST HERE.
“Princess, come here.” Spencer pat his lap with a burning gaze directed to the cute little thing sat ontop of his office couch like a queen. Work days usually means no playing around, for Y/N it’s one of those days where she’d usually spend at her apartment doing her tasks or paint something for the young don.
But on rare occasions such this, where all the workload of responsibilities upon responsibilities piled on his shoulder, he’d bring her in, he’d tell her to sit all pretty, and continue to study unless daddy calls and that’s exactly she has been doing for hours now, sketching the wooden figurine on his shelf with her legs up the table and her back rests against the couch. She looks prettier than usual he thought, not that his butterfly never look anything less than amazing but she just radiates that softness, that gentle and tender touch which he often depraved himself of— being in the mob especially as the leader, he has to be on the rough rugged edge all the time, he cannot be tender and soft but he can certainly have you as his own personal reminder that not all things in life is as bad as what he has seen.
Y/N, the darling butterfly happily obliged as she stood up after placing her sketchbook down the table and make her way to where he sits on the large chair— colored burgundy red. The soft knitted knee high socks that clad her feet anxiously drags her to the edge of his desk with her fingers fumbling on the hem of her flower dress, no matter where and when, or how and why— he always intimidates her in ways that seemed to flutter her insides with pure wanton yet desirable lust, all for him.
Encased in a black suit, he sat up straight as he holds her hips before placing her down atop his lap with her back against his front, his perfect little princess. “Dressed so prettily for daddy. Haven’t seen this one before pet, did you buy them just to impress me hm?” if it were any other man, talking to you like you owe them you would flip their asses off and beat them to pulp— but when he says it, demands it, caress your soul with it— you couldn’t refuse nor deny.. not that you would ever want to anyway because yes, yes you did buy them to impress him, to make him as weak as she is for him.
She nodded shyly with a small “yes daddy” before squirming gently ontop of his lap whilst Spencer caress her inner thigh— calloused rough fingers brushing up and down her god glowing skin, intensifying all the tension that builds inside of her. Her skin prickled with heat as he inches his sinful fingertips up up up creeping upon her clothed dripping wet cunt, causing her to mewl lowly in frustration, grinding her ass back against his growing crotch.
“Daddy has so many things today pet, so many fucking things to keep you happy, to buy dresses like this one.” He whispered onto your ear, his lips pressing against your temple with his curls gazes against your heating cheek as you nod and shut your eyes tight— feeling his knuckles graze right against your clothed aching swollen clit, making you buck up your hips as he laughs behind you, chest rumbling with triumph.
“Jesus petal, haven’t done anything and you’re soaking my pants already? are you always this needy? fucking hell.” He shook his head as he keep on laughing condescendingly, whilst you writhed and squirm on his lap, your face nudging against his neck. “Please d-daddy..” Oh how he loves your mewls, your sweet sweet moans just sent all the blood from his head rushing down toward his cock— making him all dizzy and dying to feel your clutching heat.
“Shh you want Morgan to hear you, is that it? want my men to hear your filthy moans, bunny?” His words sent tingles up your spine, through your bloodstream as his fingers skillfully tear your panties apart, with you gasping— eyes as glassy as ever and mind absolutely mush with tension and pleasure. “Daddy asked you a question.” He growled, before slapping your bare wet soaking cunt few times which you respond with loud cries and squirm on his lap.
“Sorry daddy! f— please i... oh mmh!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you feel his thumb grazing innocently to your little nub of pleasure numbing nerves, flicking his thumb up and down it focusing on the rhythm as he might as well play you like his favorite instrument. “All needy and you can’t even get a proper word out, such a mindless baby.” He scoffed before slapping right on your clit multiple times.
“Ah! Ah oh! daddy!” You screamed, having no care in the world if his men heard— you knew in the back of your mind that they heard and that alone sends a new surge of adrenaline throughout your body, leaving you pliant and in need for daddy— daddy’s cock, fingers, anything just anything. “Here’s what you’re going to do, pup. You’re going to keep daddy’s cock warm whilst i do my job, if you behave like a good little girl then i’ll let you cum, but if you decided to think with your cunt and move i swear to god i’ll edge you six fuckin ways to sunday, you hear me?” You felt him fumbling with his zipper as he took his cock out, with you whining— babbling ‘yes yes yes daddy’ against his skin, eyes all droopy and fucked with your neatly applied mascara drip down your cheeks.
“Up you go pet, slide daddy in.” You shakily stand, bunching the hem of your dress on your hips before you straddled his thigh and looks down to get ahold the base of his well endowed cock— pulsing with need and heat. “Fuck, go on.” He urged you as he grab ahold of your hips before you lined him up with your sopping wet entrance and sink down slowly— down his massive throbbing length that has you moaning, panting.
“You can do better than that slut”
Smack!
“N-no! daddy please help! please i— ungh you’re too big!” You shook your head as you tried and tried to take him, all of him but everytime you sink another inch— your body felt like it’s been penetrated into a whole new level as if it hadn’t this morning or the night before, “Fucking helpless baby, look at you, pathetic and needy.” He growled before thrusting up inside you at once, forcing his thick length to slip fully inside your pumping dripping heat causing you both to moan out.
“Oh! oh mmh daddy.. shit..” You felt him deep, deep deep inside you, the tip of him grazing against your spot oh so deliciously, whilst you pant and convulse against him, clutching his cock like a vice. “Perfect little cunt, such a perfect doll for me.”
You’re convinced that if god was real, at this moment god must hate you for existing, must hate you so much that the universe sent you this adonis of a man to torture and blur the line of sanity and lunacy for you, torment your pleasure in mockery and sarcasm of how he stayed calm with you perched on his godly lap, panting like a puppy in heat as his thick length penetrated your insides as if it belongs there— forcing every bit of your self control over the teetering edge. You’re loosing your mind, that you’re sure of.
It has been no longer than 30 minutes but your toes have curled and uncurled themselves for eternity, your walls grew slicker and slicker each time he ‘shift’ accidentally, as you mewl and bit the skin on his neck, by the last minute of the long 30– you were trembling in order to resist yourself not to move, for the last bit of your working mind still recognized how severe the punishment would be if you were to move, the don is not one to fuck around with— oops.
Just as he stretches his hand, the knock of the door sent you into a spiraling mess, looking up to Spencer with wide eyes— all glassy and doe as you shook your head, “Daddy, d-daddy n-no..” Shivers runs deep and thrumming lively on your bloodstream as you saw his devilish handsome smirk.
“Be good and quiet, pup.” He whispers
“N-no! no daddy please! i—“
“Come in.” The sound of his voice and door cracking open has you shutting your eyes as tight as you could, face buried on the crook of his neck as he grips onto your thigh. You took a peek at the tall standing figure on the middle of his office, recognizing so clearly that it’s in fact Hotch not only that Emily and Morgan were also present, fuck— you’re fucked as you clenched hard causing the don to hiss and slap your thigh.
“What did i tell you about behaving hm? are you going to behave or should i let them deliver your punishment for you little one?” He growled in your ear, making you let out a pitiful whimper, trying as best as you could to resist the need to look at your patrons and to stay still. “No please, i’ll behave.” you muttered meekly, panting at the raging burning release that has been coiling inside your body.
“No please what? you know better, minx.” He shook his head before grasping your neck with his palm as he take a look at your messy figure. “No daddy p-please..” you bat your eyelash at him as he went in to kiss your lips with a small ‘good girl’ before getting back to his business.
“What is it?” He muttered coldly, one hand on the whiskey glass that he took a sip off every once in awhile and the other secured tightly around your lower tummy— you knew what he’s doing, the game is clear, you knew he likes to feel how you can feel him inside of you, pressing against your sweet spot and your slick canal tried so hard not to clench at the thought.
“The shipment hasn’t arrived yet to midtown, it supposed to days ago but we just heard from Garcia that the Kingsley’s hadn’t even reached out to her in weeks.” Although confident, you could tell there’s a hint of fear and worrisome latched behind Hotch’s voice, one does not fuck with your dom, one does not absolutely delay the shipment of his drugs— no no those cannot do.
“Have you traced it back to them?” The voice that rumbled against your back was eerily calm and deeper, resisting every urge inside his body to lash out— you know that very well. His fingers tighten and tighten its hold onto the glass which you could clearly see his knuckles turning white, you just hope that the poor glass won’t break.
“Yes don, Walker and Alvez went to their base and it was empty, looks like they left in a hurry.” You could feel it before you even see it, heard it, the way his blood pumps just even faster before a lound cracking of the wood sent fear and adrenaline through everyone’s bloodstream, “I don’t fucking care how many, and who’re you going to kill, but i want that fucking shipment arrived to midtown by dawn or i’ll pluck their own eyes myself.” His voice somehow rise and fell deeper at the same time, rumbling deep inside his chest which send shivers on everyone’s spine as they nod with a small uniformed ‘yes don’ before heading out hurrily— no one questions him, no one dared to speak against him, even if they know they’ll have the bloods of people (though bad) on their hands by nightfall.
His threat lives like a venom that stuck on their throat as they pursued their mission— one don does not get his hand dirty let alone going round plucking some low life mob’s eyes— or the end result could be.. would be catastrophic. These Kingsleys have one hell of a problem heading their way.
and you.. you have one hell of a raging frustratingly mad Mob boss in your hand.
Y/N’s head couldn’t even process the whole thing before she screamed in absolute pain when he pulled out harshly and bent her over his desk, knocking his whiskey glass onto the floor, clattering with no care in a world. Your mind begs for you to soothe him, soothe his anger yet your cunt aches and throbs with the need to let him use you— take the anger out to you, and ruin you for eternity. You’re his, and you’re ready.
“Stay fucking still.” Spencer slapped your ass harshly, causing you to jump in the position, your legs curled up for a moment as he gripped your hair tightly and grasp your neck with his unoccupied hand, “You’re going to stay still and be a good cocksleeve for me, i’m going to use you like you’re my toy and i won’t stop unless you say your safeword, got it?” His breath fans over your heated skin as you shake and tremble, your mind fuzzy with needs and mush of pleasure— blurring your absolute senses and submitting yourself fully to the mercy of his hand— his cock.
“Use your words, dumb little slut.” He hissed, choking your neck even tighter, with much force and you cried out, “Yes! yes sir, use me, i.. i’m yours..” just as you muttered out, your walls involuntary clenching at the intrusion of his cock plunging deep deep deep inside of you in one go, making you scream out in absolute pleasure and pain.
Spencer might’ve seen red— but when he delves deep inside of your tight heat, he saw the absolute heaven on earth as he begins to thrust in and out of your cunt in a brutal space, knocking his desk toppers off, and making you mewls and screams.
“Fucking tight little cunt— mine huh? isn’t it fucking mine pup?” He slammed into you over and over again as his balls hit your clit in an antagonizing pleasure whilst you writhe below him, forcing your eyes to stay open with all the power in your body looses control. “Its— mmmh ngh fuck! it’s y-yours sir! yes yes yes!” Your moans filled the entire building but neither of you care as Spencer drove his cock home everytime he sinks inside your tight pussy.
“Being such a good whore, letting me use you as my personal fucktoy, just to let my anger out.” He laughs maniacally, pistoning his hips as you clench your walls tightly to elevate the pleasure for you both, causing the room to tremble as you moan and cries out loud, “ungh yes! yes yes your whore daddy— mmh fuck me!” You could feel all the drool drips down your lips as he fucked you stupid atop of his desk but neither of you care nor have the patience to even pay attention because in his mind— the messier the better.
“Won’t be able to walk for days, pet. Fucking cunt going to drool for me everytime you see all the marks i fucking left on you.” He growled, bringing his palm over your ass before giving it a smack over and over again as your body lunges forward trying to get away with how all the friction is causing you to went into over sensitivity. But being the mean dom that he is, Spencer laughs as he pulled you back towards him by your hips. “Where are you going, bunny?”
“Please p-please let me cum, sir... ah!” You arched your back perfectly when the tip of his finger move down down down to where your swollen sensitive clit was, rubbing quickly in a fast pace just to send you over the edge, testing you, daring the orgasm out of you. “Wanna cum petal? hm wanna make a mess on daddy’s cock?” He whispered, one hand continues to rub your clit as the other focuses on holding you against him whilst his hips drives up deep— so deep that the tip grazes against your cervix.
“mmhh ah uh uh uh!” Your eyes lolled back trying to find a cohorent sentence— anything you can say to him but no matter what you’re trying to say was rendered to sinful moans and cries instead as you were right on the brink, “You can do better than that, c’mon bunny, beg daddy to cum.” he stills for a second, pressing in deep as he slaps your cheeks not once but twice— bringing fresh tears flows from your eyes.
“I.. ungh please daddy please! let me cum! been so good for you, please— want you to fill me up too.. fill your baby up, daddy!” Your high pitched voice rang an alarm through the circuit of his lust and anger laced mind, you’re slipping into your space and you’re slipping fast with your eyes just glazes absolutely flying through the realm of pleasure sensitivity.
“Good girl butterfly, such a good fucking girl, wanna cum? c’mon cum..” He whispered, before thrusting his hips in and out slowly, feeling the bliss of your overly wet and tight cunt engulfing him— milking him to cum inside, “Cum for daddy, princess, that’s it.. ohh... that’s it baby, good girl.” You cried out silently as you cum hard around his cock, muscles clenching so tightly that you sent him to release himself inside of you, thick ropes of cum paints your inside as you both moan and tremble.
“My good girl, shh thats it— best cunt ever.. that’s it, so so good for me.” He whispered softly, backing down to where his chair was pushed aside, bringing you with him before sitting down. You groaned out a loud scratchy, “daddy..” As you feel his cock shifted deeper inside of you, your eyes closed as he holds you and calms you down.
“Shh shh princess, just stay here like this. such a good girl, gonna keep me warm while i wait for them aren’t you?”
Although your cunt practically ache and scream for you to not say yes, your love and lust filled mind fogged with utter desire— just nods whining an agreeable mumble— just for him.
This will be a long long day and even a longer night.
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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago
Text
Twisted 16 - Bloody City [Spencer Reid x Reader]
A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.
Word Count: 3000
Summary: Threats come closer. 
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The room was so silent that you could swear even your heartbeat was audible. You tried to think through the panic running through your veins, but it was nearly impossible.
He wasn’t supposed to find out about that.  
You weren’t a profiler, but you didn’t need to be one to understand how betrayed he felt at the moment. He looked completely frozen, his sharp glare giving you goosebumps.
He had never looked at you like that before, and the anger in his eyes was more than enough to pin you to your spot.
“Spencer,” you managed you say, your voice way too weak, “I can explain.”
Silence.
“I didn’t—“ you stammered, “I didn’t read it. I would never.”
He just kept his gaze on you, raising his brows as if he didn’t believe a word you said and you wetted your lips.
“Where did you find it?”
That managed to draw a reaction from him, at least. He scoffed a dry laugh, shaking his head.
“That’s what you’re asking me right now?” he asked, “It was under the magazines on the coffee table, I thought it was one of mine.”
You cursed under your breath, closing your eyes for a moment. Of course your mother would put it there for you to take a look at it in case you wanted to.
“So?” he said, nodding at the folder lying on the kitchen island, “Do you want to tell me why you have a file on me?”
“It’s not mine.”
The bitter smile on his face was almost amused at your pathetic attempt, and it hit you right at that moment, there was no way you could talk your way out of this. This was what he did for a living, and he could tear your whole list of excuses apart, picking holes in it one by one.
“Try again.”
So people felt exactly like this when he was interrogating them. It was like his whole personality had just changed right in front of your eyes, and you weren’t even sure that you knew this person standing in front of you.
“I mean,” you swallowed thickly, “Okay, it’s technically mine. But I can explain why I have it.”
“You can?”
You pushed your hair behind your ear, your hands restless for some reason.
“The other day,” you started, “After we…. Well, when you were in Ohio, my mom dropped by. She already has a key and well, you’ve met her, she comes and goes as she pleases. I told her not to numerous times, but—“
“That’s not what I asked.”
You nodded, clearing your throat.
“Right, yeah,” you said, wringing your hands, “Um, she has this P.I.”
“You mean your family has a P.I.?” he corrected you, “Philip, you said? It’s not just your mother who uses him, you told me so yourself.”
You cussed at yourself in your head and bit on your lip, “Yeah. Yeah but he—he usually works for my mother. She’s overprotective, especially after my dad she became quite paranoid with the type of people me and Mina date. Anyways, she came here that morning, and she had this file but I didn’t read it,” you shook your head fervently, “I would never.”
He tilted his head, humoring you, “Oh you didn’t read it?”
“No, of course not—“
“Why did you keep it then?”
“I didn’t keep it,” you said, “I had to leave in a hurry so I left my mom here and I swear to you I told her to throw it away. I thought she did, I didn’t see it before just now. I wouldn’t keep it if I knew—“
“Did you know she was going to do it?” he cut you off as if he wasn’t in the mood to listen to your excuses, “Put a P.I. on me?”
You opened your mouth to say no, then the memory of her saying that at the brunch flashed in your mind, making you shut your eyes for a second before looking up at him.
That was enough of an answer for him.
“You knew?” he asked, barely controlling the fury in his voice, “You knew but you didn’t tell me?”
“She mentioned it in passing but I didn’t take her seriously,” you said quickly, “I didn’t think she would actually do it, that’s why I didn’t tell you!”
He let out a humorless laugh and walked to grab his satchel while you stood there, unable to even breathe right as your heart pounded in your ears.
“Where are you going?”
“Out,” he said curtly, “I’ll break your heart if I stay here any longer.”
“Spencer please, we need to talk about it—”
“Talk about it?” he repeated, “Why? So that you can give me more bullshit excuses?”
To that, you honestly had nothing to say.
“I would’ve told you whatever you wanted to know about me,” he said through his teeth, his eyes narrowed, “Because I trust you. That’s the difference between you and me.”
You blinked back the tears, digging your fingernails into your clenched fists.
“Have fun reading that,” he motioned at the file in front of you, then walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and tugged at the roots of your hair as you slouched against the kitchen island.
“Fuck.”
                                                         ***
The next three days were an absolute disaster. You couldn’t focus on anything, you checked your phone every minute to see whether he had texted you or called you, but there was nothing. You had no idea what you could do to explain yourself, or at least convince him to hear you out, but you decided to wait until he wasn’t as angry. Maybe then, he would be more willing to listen to you and you would have gathered your thoughts together.
That was the logical thing to do and you knew that, but it didn’t help with the situation at all. You had already missed him way too much and the guilt was basically eating you alive.
You should’ve been more careful. You should’ve checked everywhere, you should’ve at least called your mother to make sure if she had thrown it away but you had done none of that because of multiple distractions. Spencer had a point, you knew it was possible, you even knew your mother had done the same thing with Kenzie and yet you had told him nothing about that.
Until it blew up on your face.
There was absolutely no way he would ever trust you again, and you had no one to blame but yourself.
Your fingers were itching to text him, but you every time the urge hit you, you tried to do anything else but that. You concentrated on work, you accepted a new client, you did anything and everything that could stop yourself from thinking about him, but all of that was in vain.
Mina and Kenzie had invited you for dinner and you had accepted it just so that you could distract yourself and feel less terrible. Around nine, Lily had insisted you to be the one to read her a bedtime story, and that kid could ask for a freaking castle and you would get her that, so of course you had said yes.
“And they lived happily ever after,” you finished the story and pressed a kiss into her hair as she snuggled closer to you. “Time to sleep, bug.”
“I have a question.”
“Hm?” you asked, “What is it?”
“Will we all live happily ever after?”
“Oh yeah,” you nodded, “Certainly.”
“Here?”
You tilted your head, “Here? What does that mean?”
“I heard mommy talking to grandma on the phone about you moving to—“ she scrunched up her nose, trying to find the right word, “Ven…?”
“Venice?” you asked and shook your head, “No sweetheart, I’m not moving anywhere.”
“It’s just that,” she looked up at you, “In the stories, they go away sometimes right? I thought since you found your prince—“
“You don’t need someone to live happily ever after Lily,” you said, “And in this case, I don’t need to move somewhere else to live happily ever after. Besides, things are complicated with my prince nowadays.”
“So you’re not moving away?”
“I’m not.”
She gave you a toothless smile, “Yay!” she said, “I would miss you.”
“I’d miss you too bug,” you kissed her hair, “So much. But now that we both know I’m staying here, you need to go to sleep, we had a deal.”
“Fine, fine…” she heaved a dramatic sight and you turned off the lamp by her bed, getting up from the bed. “Good night!”
“Sweet dreams, bug,” you closed the door behind you and made your way to the living room where Mina and Kenzie were still sitting by the table, drinking wine.
“Thank you so much,” Kenzie said and you waved a hand in the air as you sat down.
“Of course,” you said, grabbing your wine glass, “Mina, she asked me if I was moving to Venice.”
Mina frowned, “What?”
“Yeah, she heard you talk to mom on the phone,” you muttered, “Is that still going on? I thought we put that behind us, I’m not leaving.”
She heaved a sigh, “You know how mom gets, she’s just worried.”
“Have you talked to Spencer yet?” Kenzie asked and you took a huge sip of your wine, shrugging your shoulders.
“He knows where I am.”
“I take that as a no.” Kenzie said and you scoffed a bitter laugh.
“If he wants to break up with me, he can pick the time.”
Mina’s head shot up, “Y/N…”
“Come on,” you forced yourself to say and downed your wine before tilting your glass towards Kenzie, “You guys know how it goes. Experience talking.”
Kenzie filled your glass, “Listen, I can tell you right now that finding that out was a shock, yes. I felt betrayed, also yes. But after a couple of days, the anger subsided. When we broke up, it was— it was just my anger calling the shots.”
Mina nodded slowly, “Yeah, and then we talked and solved it.”
“Exactly!” Kenzie snapped her fingers, “Besides, after the first argument… I went to my apartment and after I calmed down I had to question whether I wanted to lose Mina over that.”
You shook your head, “It’s different.”
“How?”
“You weren’t there,” you lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke, “You didn’t see the way how he looked at me after that. Something inside him shifted and I don’t know how to change that, or fix that.”
Mina and Kenzie exchanged glances.
“I don’t think he will ever trust me again,” you managed to say, turning the cigarette between your fingers, “That is if he talks to me again. I think he might just call it quits over the phone to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything after this point, after what happened.”
“Y/N, I saw you two together even before you started dating,” Mina said, “This is not the end. It’s just some stupid obstacle in the way, that’s it.”
You could feel the tears burning your eyes but you blinked them back.
“I’ve never-” you trailed off, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, you know? And if I lose this, lose him, I don’t know…” your voice cracked but you cleared your throat and took a sip of your wine again, “I have no idea what to do.”
Kenzie nibbled on her lip,
“You won’t have to, just—“ she started but was cut off when your phone started vibrating on the table. You lowered your glances to check the caller I.D flashing on the screen, then gasped, jumping on your feet.
Spencer.
“Excuse me,” you said and snatched the phone off the table to walk to Mina’s study, your heart slamming against your ribcage. You hoped that it was a good sign that he was calling you, instead of just ending your relationship via text and you closed the door behind you, then answered the phone.
“Hi,” your voice sounded way too squeaky even to your own ears and you shut your eyes for a moment, making a face.
“Hey,” he greeted you and you bit down on your lip, pushing your hair behind your ear as you walked in the study.
“How—um, how are you?”
“I’m good,” he said slowly, “How about you?”
“About the same,” you answered, “I was just thinking about you actually. I wanted to call you, but…”
“But you didn’t?” he asked and you shrugged your shoulders,
“I figured you might need some time away from,” you thought for a moment, trying to smile, “Well, away from me, I guess.”
He fell silent for a moment before he cleared his throat,
“Listen,” he said, “I just called to let you know that we— the team and I, I mean, we’re flying to Illinois in fifteen.”
Your head shot up, “Oh? There’s a new case?”
“Might be related to this one, we will see when we get there,” he said, “I just figured you’d…I don’t know, you’d want to know where I was.”
Even when you were quite possibly in the worst terms, he still wanted to make sure you knew about what was happening and that thought alone was enough to make you smile.
“Yeah absolutely,” you said, “That’s very thoughtful of you. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Sure thing.”
There was a pause before he took a deep breath.
“Anyway, yeah. That’s why I called. I’ll see you later—“
“Spencer,” you interrupted him, “Before you hang up, I want to say that I get why you’re upset, I really do. You have every right to be, but I was hoping…” you bit at your fingernail, “Maybe we can talk after you come back? Would that be possible?”
“Yeah,” he said after a beat, “Sure, that sounds good.”
“Yeah?” you let out a relieved breath, “Okay, great. Be careful out there, please?”
You could almost hear his small smile, “You too,” he said and hung up, making you let out a squeal and you sat down on the couch, pressing a hand over your chest.
You didn’t know it back then, but the next time you would see Spencer, it would be under very, very different circumstances.
And it definitely would not look like what you hoped it would.
                                              ***
Even though Mina and Kenzie insisted you to stay over for the night, you told them you had an important appointment the next morning. It wasn’t a lie either, you had been handling Vincent’s wedding’s possible venues since last week and finally you had narrowed it down to three, so you would be visiting those venues with him and his husband.
But that whole morning started very strange.
For starters, you hadn’t even heard your alarm go off, which was unusual, because that had never happened to you before. By the time you woke up, you had a terrible headache as if someone had hit your head with a baseball bat but you hadn’t even drunk that much last night. It felt way too difficult to even open your eyes, and your limbs felt like they were made of jelly as you forced yourself to sit up in the bed.
Where was your phone?
The wind coming from the open window moved the curtain and you frowned, trying to remember when you had opened the window before a shudder ran down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck rising.
Spencer would’ve had some scientific explanation for it you were sure, but for you, it went deeper than that. It was your instincts, warning you that something was wrong.
Something in here didn’t feel right.
And every single cell in your body made sure you knew that.
Trying to make as little noise as you could, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, blinking to get rid of the blurriness in your sight and looked around in the room for any potential weapons, then grabbed the nail file on the vanity before you opened the door. You peeked around the hall, but as soon as your gaze fell on the front door, you felt the goosebumps rising on your arms.
The front door wasn’t closed properly, and you were sure that you had closed it last night.
Your heart started pounding in your head but you stepped out of your room, still holding the nail file tightly just in case there was a sudden movement. You took another step, trying to fix your breathing but you happened to inhale deeply for a second, and that’s when you took the scent.
You smelt it before you could even see it, the bile climbing up your throat almost automatically.
Metallic and sweet.
Blood and jasmines.
You slowly lowered your glances to the floor connecting the hall to the living room to follow the small flowers of jasmines soaked in the red river of blood, leading behind the kitchen island. There were sirens going off in your head, screaming at you to run away but you took a deep breath, your whole body shaking as you stepped around the kitchen island, the warm blood soaking your feet before your eyes found the body lying completely still on the floor.
The nail file slipped from your closed fist as you stared at your ex-boyfriend Anthony, his eyes wide open and fixed on the ceiling, his hair and clothes drenched in his own blood.
The shock only lasted for one second.
Then a scream ripped itself from your throat.
Chapter 17
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carrotmakar · 4 years ago
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Sunsets and Surprises
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Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Summary: A trip to Italy isn’t the only thing that Harry surprises Y/N with.
Warning(s): itallyrry, lost luggage, y/n constantly in harry’s clothes, harry being an absolute sap, surprises, not edited (sorry, i hate having my betas read the shorter pieces)
A/N: anon requested: harry and y/n visit a small town in italy. harry takes y/n to a private beach and he proposes. Yet again, this gif has like, nothing to do with the fic, i just like it fjshdak!!! This is only like, the third (?) proposal scene I’ve written so I apologize if I still suck at the proposal speech!! Normally I wouldn’t give away the big surprise but it was quite literally in anon’s request so I figured I may as well apologize for it now. I hope you like this anon!! I don’t know how I feel about it completely but yeah!! I hope you enjoy it!!
Masterlist | Taglist | Request - Guidelines | Come Talk To Me!!
Reblogs help a lot and are greatly appreciated!!
*
When you originally imagined visiting Italy, you imagined a peaceful getaway, all worries left back in the States. 
You should have known that it wouldn’t be that simple. Your luck forbids anything from going as it’s supposed to. Which is why you’re standing next to the baggage claim in Catania Airport, waiting patiently for your bags to roll around. Harry’s already gotten his bags, so he asked you to watch over them while he quickly runs to the bathroom. 
After almost ten minutes of watching the same bags roll around the claim, you decide that there’s no way your bags are here. They must have gotten lost somewhere. You try to keep calm, knowing that as soon as Harry gets back from the bathroom, he’ll calm your nerves. 
You turn away from the baggage claim and look in the direction of the bathrooms. What is taking him so long?
After a few more minutes of waiting, Harry turns the corner and all the tension immediately leaves your body at the blinding smile that he flashes you. 
“Sorry for taking so long, baby. There was a lone in the bathroom and then I stopped to take pictures with a few fans.” You smile at him and wave it off. 
“It’s fine, honey. I get it.” He looks around you for a moment before training his eyes back on your face.
“Where are your bags?” You grimace, almost having forgotten about the missing luggage until he brought it up.
“Yeah, about that…” He frowns at your words.
“It got lost, didn’t it?” You nod and he just sighs.
“Alright, well, let’s just go. I’ll call and get it sorted out. Until then, you can just wear my clothes. I brought extra knowing you’d probably want to wear them anyway.” You smile at that, loving how he remembers that you always prefer to wear his clothes over your own. 
“Hey, baby?” You speak up as you’re following him out of the airport to where the car is supposed to be. 
He hums in acknowledgement, encouraging you to continue. 
“Can I play the music in the car?” He laughs slightly and nods.
“Of course, doll. Play whatever you want.”
*
The drive to Sicily isn’t as bad as you initially thought it would be. The fact that Harry let you pick the music (as he does most times, he still swears he has no clue why you act surprised nearly every time he agrees) helped the drive go by much faster than it really was. 
“Where exactly are we again?” You wonder as the both of you climb out of the car in front of one of the most beautiful villas you’ve ever seen. The outside of the building is an off white stucco design. There are arches that make the place look slightly asymmetrical, but it all just adds to the appeal. The shutters, trim, and porch covering are all wood that’s been stained a brown so dark it almost looks black.
“We’re just about on the coast of Riserva Dello Zingaro beach.” You swoon slightly at the light accent he has while pronouncing the name of the beach. 
“Go on in, dove.” He throws you the keys to the place you’ll be calling home for the next week. “Get comfortable, I’m just gonna bring the bags in.”
You do as you’re told, venturing into the villa and taking in the space. It’s not huge, and you’re grateful for that. You know Harry handpicked this spot, knowing exactly how much you hated having unnecessary amounts of extra space. The floor plan is open, the kitchen, dining room, and family area all visible, no walls separating them. The decorations that make you smile, the homey feel that they give off making you feel like you could stay here for the rest of your life. 
You walk to the back of the house and into the bedroom that you and Harry will be sharing for the week. The moment you lay your eyes on the room, you gasp. It’s possibly the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen (besides Harry). The bed is larger than any you've ever seen, the frame matching the white bedspread. There’s a white couch facing the floor to ceiling window that faces the view of the beach. 
As you’re ogling the room, a pair of arms wrap around your waist and you immediately relax into them. “Do you like it, baby?”
You nod and hum in approval. “Love it.”
“I’m glad.” He places a kiss to the crown of your head and you turn in his arms.
“Can we go to the beach?” He pouts at you for a moment.
“I can’t today. Gotta make that call about your luggage, remember?” You nod.
“It’s okay. We can stay in today, get used to everything.” He expected you to be slightly more upset about not being able to go out, knowing that you barely get to go anywhere anymore without someone recognizing you.
“We can go tomorrow if you want.” He offers.
“I thought you wanted to go explore tomorrow. Wasn’t your plan really to go to the beach starting Wednesday?” He smiles fondly at you as you speak.
“Yeah, but we can always change plans if you want to.” He’s trying to reason with you so you get what you want, but you know how much he likes sticking to the plan. You’ll be fine without the beach for a few days. 
“No, baby. It’s fine. We’ll go on Wednesday like we planned.” He leans forward and places a peck to your lips. 
“If you’re sure, then we can do that.” He’s scanning your face.
“I promise I’m sure.” You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck and push yourself on your tippy toes to give him a quick kiss.
“Alright, then let me go make this call really fast.” You nod and let him make his way to the family room while you begin to rifle through his suitcase to find a comfier outfit of his to slip on.
*
The next few days with Harry are perfect, and you’re not sure how it could possibly get any better. He had been constantly loving up on you every chance that he got. He blamed it on you always being in his clothes, but you figure it’s probably just because he’s been happier, more carefree while he’s been here.
“Are you ready to go to the beach, baby?” He peeks his head into the bathroom and is faced with you in a navy blue bikini top and a striped pair of bottoms. 
“Yeah, I’m ready. Wanna help me finish applying the sunscreen to my back?” He just nods and reaches his hand out blindly for the bottle. You chuckle at his actions.
“You’re like a teenage boy, H. Act your age.” You notice your mistake the moment he begins to hum under his breath. “Great, now you’re going to have that song stuck in your head all day, aren’t you?”
He just shrugs, a smirk on his face while he applies the sunscreen to your back. He uses deep circular motions, almost like he’s massaging you, and you have to tell him to stop before you never make it to the beach.
The walk there is short, five minutes at most. In the heat, however, it feels like it takes a lot longer. 
You’re confused when you get to the beach and nobody’s there. You’d think that there would be more people here at this time of day, especially at a beach this nice.
“Honey, why is there nobody h-” Your breath catches in your throat as you turn on your heel and see Harry down on one knee, a velvet box in his hands.
“It’s a private beach, not many people come here. At least not at this time.” He chuckles lightly and you can’t help the way that your heart swells at the look of the smile on his face.
Before you can say anything, he clears his throat. “Y/N, I know this is unexpected, it wasn’t planned out much or anything. But that’s okay, because neither was falling in love with you.” He chuckles again, almost like he’s nervous. But you can’t really blame him. You’re nervous too. “I didn’t expect to ever fall in love, really. I thought that nobody would ever be able to understand, to cope with the hectic lifestyle that came along with being in my life.” His voice waivers for a moment. He pauses to gather himself before continuing. “But then you came along. You walked right into my life and said you didn’t care what baggage I already had or what we picked up on the way, you were here for it all. Looking back on it, there wasn’t a distinct moment that I fell in love with you, but there was a distinct moment in which I knew. I knew the minute you came to my house in the middle of the night just because I was stressed out and you didn’t want me to be alone. You put my happiness and health over yours that night and that’s when I knew, without a doubt, that I was royally screwed. You make me so happy every single day that you’re around me. Excuse my cheesy reference, but you light up my world like nobody else.” He pauses while you giggle lightly and roll your eyes at him. “I look forward to making you smile and laugh every time that we’re near each other. And, if you’ll let me, I’d love to continue putting a smile on your face every single day. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Y/N. Will you marry me?”
You don’t hesitate before saying yes and throwing yourself into his arms, letting him spin you around and take you back to the villa to show you just how glad he is to have you as his fiancé. 
*
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ssa-babygirl · 4 years ago
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Out of My League [Part 1]
Pairing: High school!Spencer Reid x Popular!Reader
Word count: 3.7k (god i don’t shut up do i)
Summary: Spencer begins tutoring you in chemistry, and the two of you bond (I would say no pun intended but fuck it that was GOOD so I’ll say pun intended)
Warning(s): Mentions of bullying, mental illness, some swearing, I made one joke about herpes??? sorry if thats a sore spot with anyone, light angst and pining, Reader POV
Author’s Note: Here it is, folks!! The first official part! I’ so grateful for all the feedback I got on the prologue, I’m glad y’all are liking it, I hope you like this part just as much!! Next part I’m gonna have some baby spencer, and by that I mean whole ass adult spencer that just looks baby
[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]
You absolutely despised chemistry. It’s boring. It’s simultaneously stupid and ridiculously complicated. You weren’t dumb, you were a decent student in all your other classes, but science was never your strong suit. You preferred literature over litmus paper any day. Unfortunately, your failing grade was bringing down your entire GPA, just below the requirement for you to stay on the cheerleading squad. Your coach recommended you get a tutor, or else you were off the team. So you went to the library to see the peer tutoring program, and all of them were booked. The next best thing would be the kid genius in your class. He was probably a better first choice, honestly, but you figured he’d be booked with other students too.
He wasn’t like other kids in your class, not just because he actually cared and was a good student, he was also twelve years old. The kid was a prodigy. He was bullied a lot because of this because no one really understood him. That’s probably why he looked so terrified when you approached him after class one day.
“Hey, Spencer!”
His eyes grew wide as he stared back at you, saying nothing.
“I was just wondering if you were available for tutoring?”
“Oh, uh, um, y-yeah, in chemistry?”
“Yeah, what are your rates like? Like say we do an hour every other day, how much would that be?”
“Oh! N-no charge.”
“Really?”
“The first couple of sessions can be a trial run, I don’t want your money if you’re not benefiting from it.”
That made you smile, this kid was so nice and you just wished that people actually cared about that instead of the dumb shit they bullied him for. Sure, he was skinny and short and dorky and you know, a literal twelve-year-old boy, but if someone would take time to know him, they’d see he’s a good kid.
“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t wanna waste your time if you have other students.”
“I don’t, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Great! Are you free after school today?”
He nodded and avoided all eye contact before scurrying out of the room to his next class.
~~~
You met up later in the library. You greeted each other politely with simple hi’s and hey’s and nothing more. Then it was time to pour over your books for an hour and try to force the puzzle pieces into place and hope something finally clicked. Balancing molecular equations physically hurt. Just when you thought you got it all right, Spencer reminded you that you still had to balance the oxygen, which was always bonded with something else, which threw off the whole equation. Every time you made a mistake you just let out a groan and set your head on the table.
“It’s a lot of math, a lot of people have a hard time with it, don’t feel bad.”
“I’m so fucking stupid.”
“You’re not! It’s an easy mistake.”
“You don’t make mistakes like that.”
“That’s because I’ve been taking advanced math classes for the past two years, I’m good at this stuff.”
“You’re good at everything, you're a literal genius.”
“There are people who aren’t geniuses who are good at this sort of thing, just look at Johnny Abrams in our class. He answers every question Mrs. Gustin asks and I once saw him put his backpack on his car’s roof and start driving ‘cuz he forgot it was there. He’s just been practicing. That’s why we’re here, right?”
He always reassured you. Always told you that you weren’t stupid. You weren’t dumb. He always smiled when you got questions right and told you you were doing a good job. When your hour was up, you said goodbye and went home. 
Spencer’s mini lectures aside, most of your sessions were sparse in the conversation department. The first time he went off on a side about some chemistry facts, you couldn’t keep up. You just sat there, jaw hanging while he went into detail about saponification, which wasn’t even in this lesson.
“Sorry, I’m rambling.”
“Did we learn that in class? Cuz if we did, I’m screwed.”
“No, not yet at least.”
“How do you just… know that?”
Spencer avoided your eyes once again, something he did more than spouting random facts, “I read a lot.”
That’s how it happened the first time. All it took was you asking one question about different types of reactions for him to launch into another spiel. You figured you’d have to know it at some point, so you started writing down whatever you could catch from his fast-paced speech, taking notes in bullet points.
“And that-- Oh. Y-You don’t need to do that, that’s not even on the curriculum.”
“Well, I gotta keep up with you somehow, right?” You glanced up from your page and flashed an almost challenging smirk as you saw him stifle a smile as he avoided all eye contact with you, as per usual. He then cleared his throat and got back to the actually assigned chapter.
The more he went off on tangents, the more he realized you weren’t stopping him. He was actually able to make chemistry sound interesting to you, which is strange, but it was easier to understand through how he explained it all. Something told you that he wasn’t used to having someone listen to what he said, because he just lit up when he talked about this stuff. He was clearly passionate about it, so why would you make him feel bad about it? He always apologized, but you always reassured him it was no big deal. 
You didn’t know it at the time, but the kid was falling hard. This pretty, older girl was paying attention to him and didn’t think he was annoying? The bar may have been on the floor for young Spencer, but you were perfect to him. Eventually, he was able to look you in the eyes when you spoke to one another, he even smiled at you when you joked with him. That was another thing: you joked with one another now. You both warmed up to one another as your sessions continued. You said hi to each other in the hallways, you ruffled his hair as a greeting, he accepted your high-five requests every time you got something right.
You still didn’t talk outside of class much, which is why he was caught so far off guard by you calling his name from across the cafeteria as you approached his table.
“Hey, dude! Is it cool if we squeeze in an extra session today? I got a test tomorrow.”
“Y-Yeah, no problem, but, uh, it’s Thursday. Don’t you have practice after school?”
You did. And you had to be there because you had a competition this weekend.
“Yeah, I was wondering if we could meet after?”
“When does it end?”
“Five.”
“Library closes at four.”
“I know, but would it be too much of a hassle if I just… Pick you up tonight and we head back to my house to study?”
You could physically see his brain shut down in his eyes. After he realized he needed to respond, he picked his jaw up off the floor and gulped hard.
“Or you can stay after and hang out at practice and I can just drive you home?”
“Y-Yeah, um, yeah, tha-that works, I can, uh, yeah, we can do that.”
Spencer brought his books and homework and tried his hardest to not make it obvious he was staring at you while you danced. You looked like you were having so much fun and he loved seeing you happy and smiling with your friends like that, it was hard for him to look away and focus long enough to read a sentence, which is saying something, considering it does not take him long to read a sentence. 
After practice wrapped up, you told him to go wait by your car while you changed out of your uniform. The girls in the locker room were talking just as loudly as always, only this time, it was about something you actually cared about hearing.
“I mean, really, what was that little creep doing watching us today?” You heard one girl sneer.
“So fucking gross, I don’t wanna know where his prepubescent head was.” Another girl laughed.
You had to step in. You had to say something.
“I’m his ride home. He’s my chemistry tutor and I have a test tomorrow, so back off the kid, he didn’t do shit to you anyway.”
The squad learned to watch their mouths around you after that.
~~~
The neon glow of the golden arches shone through your car’s windows as you pulled into the McDonald’s drive-thru line.
“This isn’t your house,” noted Spencer, sounding confused.
You grinned, “Oh, shit… no way! Wow! I’m so glad my tutor is a genius! I would have never guessed this was not my family home!”
He let himself laugh for a moment, “Okay, okay, fine. Why are we here?”
“Uh… to get food? Duh.”
“But what about your food at home?”
“My mom’s visiting my dad, he works in D.C., and I haven’t gotten a chance to go grocery shopping this week, so I can’t cook for you. What do you want?”
“You don’t have to get me anything.”
“No, I insist, it’s almost dinner time. Lemme get you something. As a thank you for squeezing in an extra cramming sesh?”
“It’s fine! Really.”
“Hey, Reid, come on,” you attempt to stifle a stupid giggle as you gesture to the rather large window displaying the playroom inside, “you are a guest in my home!”
Spencer shakes his head and chuckles, but doesn’t dare let you think he found you funny, “I’ll have chicken nuggets.”
“Happy meal?”
He tried to look offended at your clarification, but he quickly dropped the facade, “Yes. Extra fries, please.”
“Of course, buddy.” You pulled up further to the ordering station, catching a glimpse at the menu and the ads they had displayed on it, “Oh no way! They have Strawberry Shortcake toys! I used to collect those when I was a kid!”
Spencer saw the look on your face and couldn’t help but smile at your childlike excitement, “Do you want my happy meal toy?”
You bit your lip and hesitated before throwing all shame to the wind and saying yes. Because it was Spencer. He got excited over chemistry, he had no right to judge you on your old Strawberry Shortcake doll collection.
After you got your food, you drove back to your house, and you ate together at your kitchen island while Spencer quizzed you on the last chapter. He had asked you eighteen questions so far, and you had answered all of them correctly. 
“Okay, this last one is for the Strawberry Shortcake--”
“Her name is Orange Blossom.”
“Whatever, this last one is for the Orange Blossom toy: Which type of reaction is represented by this equation?” He showed you his notebook where he had written a molecular equation.
“Substitution.”
“Correct! Now balance it.”
Your shoulders slouched as the pride drained from your body.
“Please don’t make me.”
“This is going to be on the test, Y/N, you have to know it.”
“What’s one wrong question, really?”
“You and I both know she’s not going to put just one balancing question on the test.”
“Fine.” You grumbled, grabbing a pencil and sliding his notebook closer to you. You worked it out after a few minutes, but everything looked right, and judging by Spencer’s proud grin, everything was.
He reached for the figurine, still in the plastic bag, and handed it to you, “You’re gonna do great tomorrow, Y/N.”
You took Orange Blossom from his hands and danced around the kitchen with it, overwhelmed with the sudden feeling of confidence you gained from nailing this practice session. You heard Spencer’s small laugh from behind you, causing you to turn around and face the boy as he lovingly mocked you.
Studying at your place became a regular thing after that, even when your mom was home. She loved him. She always invited him for dinner if she was home. He rarely took her up on the offer, but it was nice having him around the house with you. Study sessions turned into just plain hanging out. You spent more time bonding over Doctor Who than chemistry some nights, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
~~~
When Alexa Lisben invited him to meet her at the football field you were skeptical. You had good reason to be. She was never very nice to you or Spencer. You were able to be civil with her for the sake of the cheerleading squad, but something about her just didn’t sit right with you. You tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen. He seemed offended at the notion that Alexa would do something horrible to him. How dare you imply that the only reason someone would be interested in him would be to pull a fucked up prank?
“I’m not like you, Y/N, I don’t have a line of people waiting around for a date, no one’s ever had a crush on me before, and-and now that someone other than you is being nice to me, you’re telling me that they have some sort of ulterior motive?”
“Spencer. I know these girls, I’ve seen the guys they go for--”
“And I’m not like them?”
“No! You’re a sweet kid, you’re nothing like those guys and they’re gonna take advantage of that.”
“I really wish everyone would stop saying I’m just a kid!”
“You’re not! That came out wrong--”
“Listen, Y/N, I’m going whether you want me to or not, so if you really want to keep babying me, by all means, stay after and wait with me.”
“I don’t wanna baby you!”
“So stop it!”
You didn’t want to fight with him anymore, you weren’t his mother. “Ok, Spencer, fine. I’m sorry. You should go. How about you meet me in the library after and you can tell me all about it over McDonald’s? My treat.”
He warmed up and agreed.
So you waited in the library until four, and then you started to get worried. You went to grab something from your gym locker before you left to look for him and heard some girls from the squad gossiping about “the little dork.” Your blood started to boil as you heard the way they talked about Spencer. Your jaw only clenched harder as you recognized one of the girls’ voices as Alexa Lisben’s.
You poked your head around the lockers that divided the aisles and tried to manage a calm voice, “Hey Alexa? Spencer actually said he was meeting up with you today, do you know where he is?”
She just laughed and said, “I can’t believe you actually care about that loser.”
“He’s my friend.” All attempts to remain level-headed were tossed aside, “Where the fuck is he, what did you do to him?”
You could feel yourself starting to cry. It’s your fault, you weren’t there, you tried to warn him, but now you don’t know where he is or what he’s thinking or--
“Check the field.”
You sprinted out to the football field and saw him stripped down to his briefs, blindfolded, and tied to a goal post. You could kill Alexa. You actually considered turning right around and unleashing hell on that locker room, but your friend needed help. He was crying so hard he didn’t hear you coming until you called his name. You immediately went to untie him and grab his clothes from the fence beside him.
“You were right.” He sniffled, “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, I’m sorry, I should have been there, I could have helped you--”
“No, you couldn’t. There were too many people.”
“How many were there? Who did this?”
“Y/N, please--”
“No, Spencer, tell me what happened.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it!”
You know when to stop, so you just shut your mouth while he got dressed, “Get in the car, I’m taking you home.”
You didn’t say a word to him as he buckled his seatbelt and you could tell he appreciated it. You just drove to McDonald’s and got him his usual. You parked in the parking lot and ate your food in almost silence, save for the radio in the background.
“You don’t have to tell me what exactly happened, you could pretend none of this ever happened, I won’t mind, it’s okay, but I just need you to know, Spencer, say the word and she’s dead. I have so much dirt on her, you have no idea, I can destroy her.”
“Don’t.”
“Okay, I won’t. At least give me names. I will personally make sure none of those boys ever get a date again.”
“Y/N, please.”
“I’m serious, I’ll tell everyone they have herpes.”
“I know you are and that’s what scares me, please don’t, I don’t wanna make things worse.”
You decide to drop it because if he doesn’t wanna talk about it, he needs a distraction.
After you finish your food, you ask him “Your house or mine?”
“Yours. Please.”
You drove back to your house and got yourselves set up on the couch in front of the TV, turning on an episode of Doctor Who that you had recorded. You made him popcorn as he curled up on your couch, clutching a pillow. You were mostly quiet for the rest of the night, but when you did talk, it was to ask him a question about the show or if any of the science was accurate. It was the best you could do to keep him mind off things. Eventually, he fell asleep and you felt too bad to wake him. He got up by himself around midnight, jolting awake as if from a nightmare, and considering how the last few hours had been for him, it probably was one.
“Hey, bud, I’m here, it’s me.” You didn’t touch him, knowing he got overstimulated sometimes when he got really stressed, but he felt around for you on the couch next to him, needing to know you were really there this time. You patted his hand when it reached across the cushion for you.
“What time is it?”
“Way too late for you to be here, let’s get you home.”
He nodded, slowly rising to his feet and looking for his backpack, which you reminded him he had left in the car. Your hand hovered above his head for a moment before he lazily drifted into you as he walked. You took this as an okay to touch him, so you ruffled his hair before loosely slinging an arm around his shoulders as you guided him to your car.
The drive back to Spencer’s wasn’t too long, thankfully, because you were sure his parents would be furious with him and the kid’s been through enough today. You wanted to take all the heat without making them think you kidnapped him. The lights were still on when you pulled into the driveway. They were probably worried sick about him.
When you knocked on the door, a frantic woman with short blonde hair opened it. When she saw Spencer, she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the house, never breaking eye contact with you.
“Who are you? What are you doing with my son?”
“He didn’t do anything wrong, Mrs. Reid. I’m Y/N, he’s been tutoring me.”
“How do you know me? Spencer, what did you tell her?” She looked at him and back at you, “Get off my property and stay away from us!”
“Mom, she’s a fr--”
“Go up to your room, don’t come out.” She didn’t sound like an angry parent reprimanding her son, she sounded almost... scared.
A million alarms were going off in your head, and you needed to try to get through to her, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, he was helping me study and we lost track of time, it’s not his fault.”
“I don’t care, I don’t know you, get off my property!”
You decided it was best not to argue, so you hurried back to your car and drove home as quickly as possible so you could shower and go to bed and pray that Spencer would be okay tonight.
~~~
Your phone rang early the next morning. You rolled out of bed to answer it, sprinting to the hall table to take it off the stand. Checking the caller ID, you realized it was from a number you didn’t recognize. Answering it, you heard Spencer’s voice on the other side.
“Hello, this is Spencer, is Y/N home?”
“Yes, you woke me up on a Saturday morning, where else am I gonna be, kid?” Your voice was scratchy as you struggled to fight off the sleep still clawing at your throat.
“Sorry about that. I was just calling to apologize for last night.”
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
“N-No, I’m not in trouble, I just wanted to explain why my mother was all--”
“She was worried, I get it.”
“N- she… My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, she doesn’t do well with strangers. She doesn’t even remember what she said to you last night, she was having one of her episodes. She was just confused.”
You didn’t know how to respond. You were so shocked by his sudden revelations, you just stayed silent. You didn’t want him to think he scared you, so you had to say something. And apparently, that something was “Oh.”
“She wanted to apologize, but she’s just a bit embarrassed, so I called for her.”
“N-No, it’s okay, I…” It was suddenly so hard to say you understood because while it made sense to you, you wouldn’t fully understand what he or his mom was going through, you didn’t understand it, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind. He was just glad it didn’t bother you. After the events of yesterday, he couldn’t afford to lose you.
“Tell her I’m sorry I scared her.”
“Will do. She said you could come over so she could apologize personally and meet her if you want.”
“I’d love to. And Spence?”
You felt him take pause. You never called him that before, “Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t wanna scare you.”
“You wouldn’t scare me, dude, you can tell me anything.”
“Really?”
“I promise. I’ll see you Monday?”
Spencer nodded, but you couldn’t see him, so he spoke up through the lump in his throat, “See you Monday.”
Taglist ~~~~~~
(Lmk if you wanna be added!!)
@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @baby-pogue @rottenearly
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your-eternal-muse · 4 years ago
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All I Wanted (Was You) Pt. 2
Part 1
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Summery: Reader finally gets to talk to Spencer about the events of their relationship
Words: 2.5k
Warnings: Swearing, description of an arrest, manipulation, signs of a toxic relationship, JJ slander, slapping,  reader isn’t a good person in anyway shape or form, just you wait
Pairing: Criminal!Reader x Eventual Criminal!Spencer
A/N: Hey....it’s been a second...how y’all been? So this has been burning a hole in my google drive for weeks now, and I’m gonna be honest I’ve just been too damn lazy to post it. I truely started my new job, and guess what? I got covid, so that was real fucking fun. Plus I’ve been dealing with some personal shit that has not been entirely good for my mental health, but do not fret! I am doing much better than these past few weeks and weather its because of the iron supplement I’m remembering to take daily, or the fact that because I had covid, means the chances of me getting it again are slim, and I just don’t have it in me to care anymore is up in the air. And I do care. I wear my mask and social distance, but when it comes to me personally.....I couldn’t give a fuck. Anyway here it is, the long awaited part two. There are already four parts I have planned, so yay! Another series! Enjoy!
I’ve decided. I hate this fucking room.
I’ve also decided that I hate Agent Jareau. Or A.J. Or whoever the fuck she was.
I openly glare at her from across the table, since I can’t actively do the things that I want to do to her.
The man sitting next to her introduced himself as Agent Hotchner.
He’s the one that pulled Mathew back. Or Dr. Reid. Fuck.
“Ms. Y/l/n and I have spoken, and she has agreed to answer any and all of your questions. You have her full cooperation. On one condition.”
The annoyed grimace spreading across Jareau’s face slaps a smirk on my own.
“What’s the condition?”
I speak now, staring at my reflection in the mirror before moving eye contact back to Hotchner.
“I want to speak to Mat- Dr. Reid. Alone, with no surveillance, for a half hour.”
The room runs cold.
“No.”
“I will answer anything you ask. But only after my own questions are answered.”
I lean forward onto my elbows, still smirking. “You gotta give a little, to get a little.”
“We can answer any questions you have.”
“That’s not what I want. This is my one condition. You don’t give me this, you aren’t getting shit from me.” I spit, wishing I could grab her collar and throttle her.
“Listen here you little-”
“Stand down, JJ.” Hotchner has his arm outstretched in front of her, keeping her from jumping across the table.
“Yeah, JJ. Stand down.” I purr, and her jaw sets.
A cell phone rings.
Hotchner picks up, breaking eye contact with me for a second while he quietly asks, “Are you sure?”
Someone answers, and he doesn’t respond before ending the call and turning back to me.
“He’ll do it.”
Is it bad my heart jumped?
“What?” Jareau is staring at the side of Hotchner's face, but he keeps eye contact with me.
“You get a half hour. And if anything happens inside that room-”
“I don’t appreciate you threatening my client when she has just agreed to cooperate. Now, will you please uncuff her so she can go to the designated room?”
His face is a stone, barely showing any sign of his thoughts.
But he reaches into his pocket, and pulls out the keys while moving around the table to where I sit.
They fall from my wrists, and I pull the sleeves of the sweater Sheila gave me down to cover the red skin.
“Follow me.” he says, and I stand, free for the first time since this morning.
Running only crosses my mind for a second before I follow him through the hallways, glaring eyes burning into my back.
He opens the door to another small conference room, allowing me and Sheila to enter.
“We’ll send him in once you’re ready.” he says and without another word, he closes the door.
Sheila turns to me. “Are you sure this is what you want?” She takes my hands in hers.
“Positive.”
“Okay. You get a half hour. Use it wisely.” She lets go of my hands.
“That’s the plan.” I shove them into my pockets.
She nods, before opening the door, and leaving.
My heart pounds in my chest.
I wring my hands.
The door closes.
He stands, staring.
“Hi.”
I swallow, anger rippling through my bones.
I storm forward, and I see him hold out his hands to try and stop me, but he doesn’t put up much of a fight.
My open palm meets the skin of his cheek and fire eats at my fingers.
We’re both quiet for a moment before I reach forward, feeling his chest, his sides, his pockets.
I feel a bulk under his shirt beneath his waistband on his back.
“Are you fucking serious?” I pull up his shirt, grabbing the phone from his hip.
He doesn’t meet my eye as I see it’s on a call. With a certain agent's name flashing across the screen.
I throw it to the ground, stomping into it with my heel until I hear it crack before picking it up and opening the door.
“Y/n please..”
I throw it into the room of agents.
I meet the eyes of the person who made the initial call.
“You’re fucking lucky the deals still on, Jennifer. Or those people's deaths would be on your hands. So thank your lucky stars that I want to prove my innocence because if I didn’t give a fuck, you would have a lot to fucking explain right now.”
I slam the door shut, locking it behind me. 
I stand, heaving, staring at the swirls in the wood of the door.
I wait until my breathing is less erratic to speak.
“You must think I’m fucking stupid.” My voice is oddly calm for the anger burning through my veins.
“I don’t. I’ve never thought that.” He moves to stand a few feet behind me. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
I turn then, moving into his face.
“How the hell was it supposed to happen!?”
I hear footsteps approach me as I stir the creamer into my coffee. 
Hands are on my waist, and I barely have time to set my spoon down before he’s turning me around, and capturing me in a bone crushing hug.
I laugh nervously, hugging him back. “Good morning to you too.”
He pushes me back a little bit, and his eyes are red rimmed and frantic. 
“Hey,” I cup his face, running my thumb over the apple of his cheek. “Talk to me baby, what’s wrong?”
Different scenarios run through my mind, all of them terrible.
None of them are what he actually says.
“If I asked you to run away with me, would you?”
My thumb stops. “What?”
His eyes dart back up to mine, and the sheer glow of urgency shining in his pupils makes my heart rate pick up.
“I need to tell you something.”
“What’s going on? You’re scaring me.” My hand starts to fall from his face, but his hands come up to grip my wrists.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what? Matty, just talk to me. Whatever it is, we can fix it, I can fix this.”
His eyes dart to the clock on the oven behind me, and his breathing picks up. “Shit.”
He licks his lips. “I-”
My front door slams open.
I jump back, hitting my coffee cup on the counter, spilling the contents.
Officers spill in and my stomach drops to my feet.
“Y/n y/l/n?” An officer comes forward, gun lowered, but finger still on the trigger.
I slowly raise my hands. “Yes? What’s going on? Matty, what’s happening?”
His grip on my arm is like steel, but officers come and pry him away from me, twisting my arm behind my back. His eyes dart between me and the people swarming.
“No! Please, this isn’t-, stop!” He’s shouting, looking around at the officers pool into my house.
I am acutely aware of the gun aimed at my chest.
My arms are pulled behind tight behind me, and it’s instinct to fight.
“What are you doing? Let go of me!”
“Y/n y/l/n you are under arrest for-”
I don’t hear the rest. All I hear is Matty’s voice, his fight to remove himself from the officer who was trying to cuff him.
No.
“Let him go! He didn’t do anything!”
He looks annoyed and frightened and tired all at once.
I’m being pulled away from the scene towards my front door.
“No! No Mathew! Don’t touch him!”
My wrists pull against the handcuffs, burning into my skin.
“Stop! My name is Dr. Spencer Reid! I’m an FBI agent with the behavioral analysis unit.”
I stop.
The officer stops.
The world stops.
“My badge is in my back pocket. I’m going to reach for it now.” He reaches back into his pocket and pulls out a leather badge, opening it to show the officers.
One nods, and they back off of him, letting go of his arms.
“What?” It’s broken and barely a whisper.
His eyes meet mine, and tears are freely rolling down my cheeks, and I blink to try and get rid of them, but it doesn’t work.
“You- You’re a-” I can’t breath. “What?”
My chest hurts.
“Y/n-”
I’m out the door.
The world is in slow motion.
Black coats and red and blue lights are everywhere.
I’m in the back of a police car.
He’s in the yard.
Staring.
“It wasn’t even supposed to. I got the call 5 minutes before they came. I didn’t have any time, I couldn’t do anything.”
“You couldn’t do anything?” I look at him in disbelief.
“You could have, I don’t know, not have lied to me?”
“It’s not that simple.”
His cheek is red.
I fight back the urge to reach forward and hold it against my palm.
We didn’t move, and I realize that this was not the best idea.
I move past him, going to stand by the window.
I never realized  how high up we were.
He turns with me, watching me as I go.
“Who are you?”
I hear him shift. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I’m an agent with the Behavioral analysis unit.”
“Doctor? What are you a doctor of?”
A doctor? A friggin doctor?
“I have 3 BA’s and PhDs in mathematics, chemistry and engineering.”
 I can’t help but let my mouth fall open.
I see a small smile twitch on his face. “I also have an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute.”
I shut my mouth and scoff. “That just proves that I know absolutely nothing about you.”
I start to pace, wanting to scream from the silence.
I go back and forth inside my head, wondering which question I should ask next. So many bubbled inside my head, it made my brain hurt.
“Why did you go undercover?” is what I settle on.
“We wanted proof that you had part in the murders. We couldn’t get that without inside information. I volunteered because from watching you, I know you’d take pity on me. It’d be believable that I didn’t know what I was doing. You wouldn’t feel intimidated by me.”
His hands are on my shoulders now, stopping back in front of the window. 
He’s close enough now that I can feel his body heat against my back.
I hated that he was right.
“You get defensive around women you consider a threat, and you don’t trust men bigger than you. I was a good middle.”
I really wish he would talk louder. It’d make me feel like he didn’t care. The soft tone he was using was sending comforting signals down my spine.
I don’t want to be comfortable.
I want to be angry.
“So it was all for your case then? Everything you told me, everything we did, all those promises was a lie?”
I take a chance, and turn to face him.
I wish I could stop crying.
“Was anything you told me true?”
“Yes!” His hands tighten around my shoulders, startling me. Realization flashes over his eyes and his hands hesitantly remove themselves from me.
He takes a breath. “At first, work was all it was. I was just supposed to observe you, your behavior and report back to my team. But after a few weeks, something changed. You were fragile, and compassionate. When I looked at you, I didn’t see a cold-blooded killer, or a sociopathic dominate. I saw you. I saw the way you cared for people, how you stood up for your clients, and I couldn’t help myself. I feel in love with you.”
His hands are back on me, now resting just above my elbows.
“I love you. Everything I told you about us and what I wanted to do, that’s the truth.”
I wipe my tears away with my fingertips.
“You asked me this morning, before they took me away, if I wanted to run away with you. Do you still mean it, or was that just a ruse?” I worded the question carefully.
“I mean it.”
I sigh, finally looking up into his eyes. “You don’t think I had anything to do with those murders, do you?”
He shakes his head.
I set my jaw. “I want to hear you say it. It’s the least you owe me.”
He swallows. “No. I don’t think you do. I never did.”
My fingers play with the fabric of his shirt. “Spencer suits you.”
He smiles softly. “Thank you.”
“What are you going to tell your team?”
“Nothing. I can’t. And even if I could I wouldn’t want to.”
“Why? I would think you’d want to tell them everything.”
“Usually I do. But they don’t see you like I do. It’s just better if they don’t know. For everyone.”
I can’t help it.
I lean my head against his chest, and let his arms wrap around me.
We stand like that for what seems like years before I feel wetness on my hair.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
I just hold him tighter.
I know that he’s talking about the present situation. But I can’t help but agree for an entirely different reason.
If he hadn’t been the one to come in that day, we wouldn’t be here.
He wouldn’t feel guilty.
I wouldn’t be licking my wounds, going over every conversation we’ve ever had, trying to figure out what’s true and what’s not.
I’d be sitting in a jail cell, wondering where I went wrong, and he’d be helping his team, with no personal connection to me.
I’d be alone.
I hug him tighter, closing my eyes wishing I could be anywhere else with him.
My pocket feels heavy.
There’s a damp spot on his shirt when I pull away.
“I’m bad for you, Spencer.” My voice breaks.
“Is it bad that I don’t care?”
“You should care. I’m not a good person.”
He places his hands on either side of my face, swiping away me tears with his thumbs.
He doesn’t respond.
He just leans down and kisses me.
Kisses me like it’s the last time he’s able to.
Which may very well be the case.
There’s a knock on the door and he breaks, still keeping his hands on my face.
Another knock.
He drops his hands, sighing, before walking over to the door.
His hand hesitates over the knob.
Another knock.
He unlocks it, and opens it. 
Agent Hotchner stands there, stone faced and slightly angry.
Spencer keeps eye contact with me, until Hotchner speaks.
“Reid.”
He looks down, and then turns and walks away.
Sheila walks in after they leave, closing the door once more behind her.
“How did it go?”
I shove my hands into my pockets. “I just want this to be over.”
She walks over, pulling me into a hug I don’t reciprocate. 
“It’s about to be.”
I remove my hand from my pocket, and set the recorder on the table.
Permanent Tag List:  @criminalcowboy @pinkdiamond1016 @eternityofaxiom @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @marvels-gurl @theamuz @write-from-the-heart @sungieeeeeee @mjloveskids666 @chococerealmilk @itzsoff @gia-kerks @doctorspencereid @imsuperawkward @andreasworlsboring101 @itsmoony @cielo1984 @heistmaster69 @nevvvv @theseuscmander @complementaryvacuum @waywardswain @lindaze @urie-bowie-mercury @spencerreidsimptime @holding-on-to-my-youth  @rainsong01 @ghostofmgg 
All I Wanted Tag List: @chill-sushi @notebookgirl30 @swiftingday @tj-drinks-tea @haylaansmi​
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that-sarcastic-writer · 5 years ago
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Overprotective- Spencer Reid X Reader
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Spencer Reid X Young!Reader
Request by @ghostofmags : can we get a spencer imagine where the reader is younger and he likes to think he has to protect her because she also is very smol :) thanks
Warnings: cursing, like lots of it, angst, relationship problems, specified female reader, fluff at the end
WC: 1.7k
Tag list
A/N: little note here, so when I read younger I thought ten or so years younger. So Spencer is let's say 38 or 39 (pretty much his actual age) and reader is about 28. Also, I might mention the fact that reader is shorter than Spencer, because that's what it says on the request, it's not a big deal, but I'm saying anyways in case someone doesn't like that. But honestly idrk if this is what you wanted? But, here it is, I'm so sorry if this isn't what you wanted
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You hadn't exchanged a word since you landed. There was so much tension radiating between you and Spencer you could cut it slick with a knife. And it wasn't because you didn't have anything to say. God no. You had so much to say you felt like you were going to explode. But you were professional and you didn't want to make a scene in front of the team. So you waited until you were at the privacy of your shared apartment to make a scene. And the moment you heard Spencer shut the front door behind him, you started yelling.
"I can't fucking believe you, Spencer!" You yelled at the Doctor, your voice just echoing on the walls.
Needless to say, Spencer was not in the mood, nor had the energy to deal with you right now. The case the team had been working on was a particularly long and difficult one and he was exhausted. He let out a long and exasperated sigh, running a hand through his brown curls, mentally preparing himself to deal with you, "can we not do this right now? I'm exhausted, I really don't want to fight." He pretty much begged, sounding exhausted beyond relief. In a different situation, you would've been more reasonable, more understanding and you would've let it go. But this time, it just became too much, you were too angry and too frustrated with him to let it go.
"Oh no, we're doing this right now. You're gonna listen to everything I have to say." You said almost sternly, crossing your arms over your chest. You were just trying not to snap, you really were trying. But the response he gave you wasn't helping, at all.
He sighed again and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead before speaking, "look, you can yell at me all you want. Tomorrow. I'm really not in the mood to deal with this right now." He half rolled his eyes and sighed, starting to walk away. Probably not the wisest choice.
You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he started to walk away, your lips pursing together irritatingly, "Spencer, don't walk away or I swear to God." You pretty much growled, your words coming out harsher than you intended to and a hand came to grab his forearm, making him stop dead on his tracks. You could've sworn you heard him mutter under his breath as he took a few steps back until you let his arm go.
"What." Was his only response, his tone absolutely stripped of emotion and care, and he held an equally blank face expression. It took all of your will power not to strangle him right there and then.
"Don't fucking what me, Spencer. I'm fucking tired of you treating me like a goddamn child!" You shouted at him, hands coming up in the air as you shouted angry words at the tall brunette. Who's only response was an unamused expression and a roll of eyes. "See what I mean? You're always undermining me and you never take me seriously. You always talk for me, you refuse to let me talk to unsubs alone, I always have to be on the field with you. And that's if I even get to go out on the field in the first place, because you make sure to make me stay back every chance you get!" You continued to shout, letting out every frustration you've bottled up for the past two years you've been dating Spencer.
All the while, Spencer stood there silently, taking all your screams quietly. He was usually rather calm and collected during your part of a fight, and he'd listen, quietly. And that was just worse than screaming at you from the get go, because that meant you were going to get a mouthful when you were done. He was like the calm before the storm. And you definitely didn't want to be around when that storm finally came by.
"Spencer, you can't just keep me out of the field like that whenever you fucking please. I may be younger than you, but that doesn't mean I'm less capable of doing my job than you are. And I just wish you would stop treating me like a child, who needs to be under your protection twenty-four-seven because I don't." You finally finished your rant, your voice lowering down by the end of it. But you were still just as agitated and frustrated. You were basically all up in his face by the time you were done. Well, all up in his chest, because you barely made it to his chin. Meaning, you had to tilt your head up as much as you could to look at him, and even then, you stood short.
The entire time you spoke, Spencer kept his gaze forward, way past your head, not even bothering you to look down at you. Until he decided to speak. "You done?" He finally looked down at you, his lips pursed into an irritated expression. You crossed your arms over your chest and shrugged as a response. "Great. Now that you're done unnecessarily screaming at my face, we can talk like the adult you claim to be." He started, already pushing at your buttons even more. "You see, I would treat you like an adult, I really would, I would if you acted like one. Maybe if you weren't so short fused, or if you actually showed me you can handle things on your own I wouldn't feel the need to have to protect you all the time."
You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you listened to him continue to undermine you. Maybe having this conversation after a week long case and a five hour flight wasn't exactly ideal. Spencer can be more harsh and— with a lack of a better word— more of an ass during arguments when tired and annoyed. And you figured, you were getting nowhere screaming at him. He didn't respond well to that.
"I'm an adult, Spencer, I'm damn near thirty years old, I don't need your protection." You defended, puffing out a small breath through your nose, "and I get that I still may be younger than you but I'm not your daughter, I don't need you watching over my shoulder all the time, shielding me from the dangers of the world. And I just wish you stopped treating like some helpless child that needs your protection." You said, your tone changing from angry to tired and hurt. Because as much as you hated to admit it, every time Spencer treated you like you weren't capable of taking care of yourself, it made you feel just as such.
Spencer stayed silent for a good minute, his previously cold and hard expression of annoyance starting to slowly soften. He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand into his curls but still said nothing.
You sighed, shaking your head before turning around to walk away, knowing this conversation was going nowhere. Spencer took that as his cue to do something. "Hey, no, come here." He sighed, reaching to grab a hold of your arm like you did his earlier. And you stopped when you felt his grip of your arm, half turning your body to face him and simply let him slowly drag you back, not fighting but not welcoming him either. You looked up at him with a deep frown and pursed lips, your arms folded over your chest, letting him know you weren't letting your walls down so easily.
"I know you're not my daughter. I never said you were." He starts to say, carefully grabbing your face into his significantly larger hands and looked down at you with his usually soft amber eyes, "but you're my girlfriend, and I love you. And I don't know if I could ever live with the idea of losing the love of my life again. That's why I'm so protective of you all the time."
You let out a small breath, your demeanor starting to change into a more calm and relaxed one the moment he grabbed your face. You slowly relaxed your body, eventually dropping your arms to your sides and your expression half softened.
You always knew Spencer was scared of losing the people he loved, god knows he has, but something about hearing him say that broke your heart and it made you want to understand him, "Spencer, I know. And I get it, I really do. But you can't just keep me from doing my job just because you want to protect me. I'm not any less capable at taking care of myself than you are just because I'm younger and it really hurts that you think I can't take of myself."
"I know and I'm sorry. But can you blame? You're just so—" he lightly squeezed your face in his hands, finding amusement in how small you looked from his perspective, having to tilt his head down to look at him and even tower over you sometimes. "I could easily pin you down or throw you over my shoulder. I mean, look how small and cute you are, you really blame for trying to protect you all the time?" He laughed softly, going back to his cute and more playful demeanor you loved so much, wanting apologize for his previous words and behavior in a way he knew would work better on you than an apology.
Though you still laughed at his words, they still earned him a glare and a hard smack on the chest, "I may be small and short but I can still kick your ass faster than you can name kidnapping statistics so don't even test me." You said matter of factly, narrowing your eyes at him and playfully poked his chest.
Spencer chuckled, raising his arms up in defense and nodded, taking a step back playfully, "yeah, I've seen you train, and shoot. I'd rather not your aim." He laughed softly, stepping forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body to his, "but seriously, you're the strongest, bravest and most capable woman I've ever met, and I'm sorry if I've made you feel like you aren't. I just, I could never live with the fact that I let you get hurt or couldn't protect you if something ever happened to you. But I promise I'll work on my protectiveness."
"That's all I wanted to hear."
~~~~~~~~~
So this is my first Spencer Reid work. Honestly I'm not too happy with the end result of it. But we all start somewhere right? I'm trying to get back to writing so if you have any Reid request please send them my way. And if you'd like to be added to my Spencer Reid tag list also let me know. So yeah, thanks for reading this garbage and I'm out for now. Buh bye!
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petersasteria · 4 years ago
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Let's try this again...HAHA
Moana (2016) You're Welcome; Peter Parker
Did i get it right? HAHA
Aight. Try again HAHAHA and yes, u got it right xx
You’re Welcome - Peter Parker
This is a little blurb that can potentially be the part 2 of my one shot. So, read it first before reading this or y’all won’t get it x
"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞"
After that unexpected encounter with Peter, you really didn’t hope for anything to happen. But of course, Peter Benjamin Parker was full of surprises. He texted you as soon as he got home and both of you started talking again. You still kept your distance, though. You didn’t want to be attached.
Aidan absolutely loved Peter. Peter was his everything. Aidan never really had a male role model in his life, so Peter was a breath of fresh air. Peter would come and visit sometimes and Aidan would always grab his attention. Peter didn’t mind, though. He loved Aidan.
You recently got asked out by one of your co-workers and you needed someone to watch Aidan. Peter stepped up and volunteered to do it.
“There’s still pizza in the fridge, so just heat that up in case he wants a snack.” You told Peter.
“Got it.”
“Oh and if you’re going to give him fruits, he’s allergic to watermelons. He also has a way of persuading and if he tries to persuade you into eating ice cream first before dinner, DON’T GIVE IN.” You warned. “He’s cute and all and I love him with all my heart, but I swear that kid has powers of persuasion.” You sighed and walked to the living room to grab your purse.
Powers.
Peter looked at you as you walked away. As soon as you mentioned powers, he couldn’t help but think about the future that could’ve happened if he didn’t break up with you. Would your kids have powers too?
“I have to go now.” You announced. “Aidan, be good to uncle Peter and listen to him, alright?”
“Yes, mommy!” Aidan smiled and hugged your legs. You smiled at him and kissed the top of his head. You ruffled his hair and he ran back to the couch to continue watching his cartoons.
“Bye, Peter. Thank you so much for doing this. I owe you.” You smiled.
“It’s no problem.” Peter smiled. “Enjoy your date.”
‘Actually, I hope you don’t enjoy your date. I hope it goes horribly wrong and then you’ll realize that you and I are meant to be. Then, we’ll kiss and make up and be together again.’ Peter thought.
“Bye!” You called out and left.
Peter closed the door and sat beside Aidan. “You love my mommy, don’t you?” Aidan asked quietly.
“What? What do you mean?” Peter questioned. There’s no way a 5 year old could figure that out.
“Because you have the same look that Ariel has when she looks at Prince Eric. Ariel loves the prince, by the way.” Aidan explained as he pointed at the tv screen which was playing ‘The Little Mermaid’. Peter didn’t say anything. He just chuckled and continued to enjoy the night with Aidan.
You got home at around 10 PM and Aidan was already asleep in his room. Peter was wide awake on the couch while watching ‘The Trial of the Chicago 7′.
“Hey.” You said softly as you sat down next to him. Peter glanced at you and smiled, “Hey. I hope you don’t mind me watching on your Netflix account.”
“It’s alright.” You chuckled lightly. “Is it good?”
“It’s amazing.” Peter said. “How was your date?”
“It was alright.” You shrugged off.
Peter has known you for years and despite not seeing each other for a long time, he could still read you like a book.
“I can tell that you’re not into him. What happened? What’s wrong?” Peter asked sweetly.
You looked at him and sighed, “He’s so self-centered. Then when I told him that I had Aidan when I was in college, he gave me a disappointed look. I don’t regret having Aidan at all, Pete. I really don’t and it offends me when people give me that- that look of disappointment!” You rambled.
Peter was mad. How dare that guy!
“You were too good for him anyway. Besides, you don’t need another guy in your life. You have Aidan!” Peter smiled.
‘And me.’ He thought.
“Yeah and now I have you too.” You smiled. “Thanks for looking after Aidan.”
“You’re welcome, Y/N. Anything for you, sweetie.” Peter grinned. You sighed happily and rested your head on his shoulder.
Peter didn’t know where he stood with you, but he was contented with this. He knew it would take some time for you to love him again like you used to, but Peter will gladly wait for you.
* * * *
𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag​ @harryismysunflower​ @buckys-little-hoe​ @heeeyitskay​ @slytherin-chaser​ @quaksonhehe​ @yaya4302​ @lil-mellow-bunbun​ @starlight-starks​ @swiftmind​ @alexx-stancati​ @sovereignparker​ @nerdyandproudofitsstuff​ @pearce14​ @xfirstfemale-marauderx​ @cherthegoddess​ @chewymoustachio​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​ @parkerlovebot​ @supred12​ @peterspidey
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr​ @allyz​ @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers​ @holland-styles​ @halfblood-princess-505 @spidey-reids-2003 @whatthefuckimbisexual​ @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv
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criminalminds4days · 4 years ago
Text
Family Matters |  Chapter 4: Saying Sorry is a Virtue
Hello my beautiful souls!!
I hope this of you who celebrate Christmas had and amazing time, and those if you who don't had a great Friday!
I had a really chill holiday, and although I was supposed to be home and that didn't happen, I'm still glad I had a good time. I got a watch for Christmas and I'm obsessed!!
Anyway, I also wanted to let you guys know I'll be posting the story on Wattpad, and thanks to @meowiemari I also have a cover. I have attached it below! My wattpad user is @criminalminds4days so feel free to follow and read along!
Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. It's one of my favorites. 💙💙
Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!
Word Count: 3.6k
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog
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(This gif is not mine)
Chapter 4: Saying Sorry is a Virtue
It had been a little over three months since her absolute wrecking of the family retreat. She had managed to get her mom to get past it, and though she had promised to apologize to the rest of her aunts and uncles, she had not gotten around (well, more like she didn't think it was necessary, they probably had already forgotten, and she did actually mean every word she said).
Her team and she had evaded more danger than possible in the last couple of weeks, and she had a feeling today she would not be returning to her bed to sleep. She also had to figure out what she wanted to get Spencer for his birthday. She was so excited to celebrate with him that she wanted to spill her idea of a surprise birthday party to him, but she needed to remain strong. She just hoped he would like it, and that she could find something to give him. She knew him so much better now and had so many things that he would like, but she wanted this gift to be unique, something that reminded him of her. Not that she wanted him thinking about her all the time because that would be weird, but maybe once in a while?
A knock on her door made her get out of her head. She walked to see Tyler Hemingway standing on the other side.
"Can I come in?"
"Why?"
"I just-" He looked at the floor, nervous. "I was just hoping we could talk."
"We can talk right here, what do you want?"
"I just wanted to say I am sorry, for what happened."
"What exactly? That you humiliated me in front of my family, or that your wife called me and my boyfriend liars."
"All of it, I should have known better."
"Yes, you should have." She debated whether to say something else but decided against it. "I honestly don't understand where this is coming from, it was two years ago."
"I know, and I am also sorry it has taken me so long to say anything. I just didn't know how to approach the situation, and what we had was so special, I wish I hadn't ruined it."
She had waited to hear those words for so long that how wrong what she did, didn't occur to her until the damage had been done. Even if her feelings for the man in front of her were not the same as they were two years ago, those words were enough to make her become less hostile towards him. She let Tyler in, forgetting Spencer was waiting for her to pick him up in about twenty minutes.
"Spencer? Why are you late?"
"Because she didn't pick me up like she was supposed to. I assumed she may be running a little late, so I waited and then I called her, but it went straight to voicemail." He responded to Emily.
"That is so not like her, should we be worried?"
"I don't know, but I already am, maybe we should go see if she's home or something."
The elevator doors opened once again as Spencer and Emily were preparing themselves to raid her house in order to find her. She stepped out, a look of immense guilt present as her eyes landed on the brunette. He did not seem upset, more like relieved she was there. Emily dropped her jacket and embraced her, a huge weight lifting off her shoulders after seeing her. When she was released from the woman's hug, she directed her eyes back to him.
"I am so sorry; I was on my way-" before she could explain Aaron Hotchner told them to join the rest of the team at the round table to discuss the next case.
"This one is a bad one," JJ said as she read through the file. "These people are killing families. Not even the children are spared."
"Yeah, and it's only getting worse." Said Penelope as she shared the pictures of the crime scenes. She wished she could concentrate but Spencer kept glancing at her with worry. He knew something wasn't right, but she didn't know how to explain it without sounding like she was digging herself in a bigger hole.
She avoided him on the jet, as she pretended to be asleep and then engaged in a very interesting conversation with JJ about diapers and toddlers. As much as she loved the blonde, she sometimes didn't appreciate learning all these baby facts, it took the wishes to have children away faster than anything else.
She was now in a black SUV, with Spencer in the back seat and Emily driving. She sat in the front seat as they drove towards the hospital. One of the girls had been spared and they were hoping to talk to her about the unsubs.
"So, why were you late this morning?" Emily questioned, "You left Cinderella over there without his carriage."
"Yeah, I know. I am so sorry Spencer."
"It's okay, I just got worried."
"I know, and I am so sorry." She took a deep breath, preparing to explain to them why she had been delayed. "I just got some unexpected company this morning."
"Was it Anna?"
"No, she has been radio silent for these past couple of months, I'm assuming she is building a bulletproof alibi for when she decides to murder me."
"Is there something I should know about?" Emily asked as she stole glances at her.
"Spencer and I went to my family retreat a couple of months ago and when we were there I may or may not have basically told my aunts and uncles to go fuck themselves."
"You explicitly told them to do so." Spencer clarified.
"Why did you do that?"
"Because they all sucked. Emily if you would have been there, you would have done the same." Spencer responded. "But going back to the main topic, who came to your apartment today? Was it your mom?"
"We need to have a conversation about this whole family retreat thing!" The woman behind the steering wheel complained.
"I will tell you all about it tonight." She assured her. "And no, Spence, it wasn't my mom, it was someone a little closer to Anna."
"Her mom?"
"No, Tyler."
There was no response to that, Spencer looked like he didn't know exactly what he was feeling, while Emily seemed like she had returned to watch her favorite show only to find out she missed a whole season, and she had no idea what happened to the storyline she was following.
"Who's Tyler?"
"Anna's husband." She clarified, "he came to apologize for everything, and to say that he didn't think what Anna did was okay."
Reid scoffed, "and you believe him?"
"He seemed very genuine about it."
"Unbelievable."
"I am so lost right now."
"Spencer, are you upset about this?"
"Me? Why should I? It's not like I pretended to be your boyfriend to prevent him from making you feel any worse than he had already, and you ended up right back at where you started."
"Are you implying I slept with him?"
"I never said that."
"Well then what are you saying? Because need I remind you, he is a married man. I would never do something like that." She crossed her arms, becoming defensive of the situation. "He simply wanted to talk, so I listened. It was a conversation, and it's just going to be a dinner. Nothing more."
"Oh, so you're going on a date with him too?"
"It's not a date! Did I not mention he was married?! To another woman!"
"Being with someone else has never stopped him before."
"What is happening right now?" Emily asked, to no one in particular.
"Seriously Spencer?"
"Did I lie?"
"Why are you so worked up about this? It doesn't even concern you."
"I am upset, because even after he told you in front of all your family that he was in love with your cousin and married her, breaking your heart, he says, 'I'm sorry' and suddenly he's back on the top of your priority list." He spits out, his emotions running high.
"This man did what now?" Both looked at Prentiss as if remembering she was there all along.
"I can't believe you just said that! I confided in you."
"And I trusted you."
"It was one day! I forgot to pick you up one day and suddenly I am the worst person on this planet, really?"
"Are you seriously so oblivious to think this is about some stupid ride?"
"Guys,"
"No? Then what is this about? Is this about me making you look bad or something?"
"No, it's about the fact that after all we've been through and the fact that I have done all I can to help you and be there for you I am still less important than Tyler fucking Hemingway."
"Guys,"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Guys,"
"It doesn't even matter anymore, enjoy your dinner." He undid his seat belt. "Why didn't you tell me we were here Emily?"
"I have been trying."
"Let's go then." He said as he exited the SUV marching up to the hospital entrance.
"What is his problem?" She asked Emily, still heated by the discussion.
"Well,-"
Before Prentiss could respond she was cut off. "I mean, yes, this guy broke my heart but that doesn't mean I have to hold a grudge forever, right? I might as well move past it, don't you think?"
"If you ask me-"
"And it was one conversation, and we're going out to dinner to finish it, there is nothing wrong with that. I don't know why he got so worked up about it, do you?"
"Yeah-"
"You know what, screw Spencer, if he wants to be a jerk for no fucking reason, let him do it. I am not going to lose sleep over it, nor am I gonna give him explanations. Who the hell does he think he is?"
"I think-"
"Yeah, you're right Emily, when Reid decides to get his shit together he can talk to me, in the meantime, we need to find out who these unsubs are before they hurt anyone else." She undid her seatbelt and opened the door, Emily still sitting there, trying to figure out what the heck had just happened. "Aren't you coming?"
"Yeah, sure." She followed suit and they both entered the hospital. Spencer was speaking to the girl's nurse as they approached, he didn't make any comments, but he also didn't acknowledge her, nor invite her into the conversation as he did to Emily. He was acting professional and doing his job, but his stance and emotions were very clear by the lack of interactions between them unless it was absolutely necessary.
As soon as Emily entered the room to interview the victim, the silence that engulfed them made her heart tighten. Spencer and she had gone past this already, they were friends, there was never a silent moment between them, and now all of that seemed to vanish in the air, all because of her decision to let Tyler Hemingway apologize.
She chose to ignore the situation until further notice. Emily was right, Spencer was being a dramatic prick and she was just gonna give him the time to realize that he was wrong. So when she got to bed, grateful for a bit of peace knowing one of the killers had been identified and was going to be caught soon, the last thing she wanted to do was have a conversation with Emily about the topic this same one had told her to not think about.
"I didn't say to just ignore it. As a matter of fact, I didn't get one sentence out during the whole drive to the hospital."
"That can't be true."
"Oh, but it was. Now I know how Reid felt when Gideon left." She fixed her shirt and continued, "well, regardless, what happened between you and Tyler, and what exactly does Dr. Genius know?"
"Spence knows pretty much everything, it kind of came with the territory." She recounted the story and this time she didn't leave any detail out, well, almost didn't leave any detail out.
Emily learned about Anna and their rivalry, Tyler and him choosing her cousin over her, the only thing she never even brought up was her dad. Only Spencer knew about it and she wanted to keep it that way. She finally landed on the weekend in question and the words she had shared with her cousin. Though that wasn't exactly what Prentiss found worrisome.
"You and Reid kissed?! Like on the lips?!" She screamed.
"Yeah, it was just so they would stop bugging us. It's not even the first time we kissed, so why is it a big deal?"
"Wait, you've kissed him before that day?"
"Yeah, at my cousin's wedding."
"Holy shit! I was not expecting that. My OTP is getting all these moments that will eventually lead to the ship sailing and I didn't even know about them!"
"Have you started talking another language by accident or something? I don't understand anything of what you just said."
"Don't worry about it. On a scale of one to ten, how good of a kisser is he?"
"Eleven." She responded immediately, "but that has nothing to do with this whole situation."
"It definitely does! Now it makes sense, Reid thinks you still have feelings for your ex, and he's jealous. He probably doesn't even know it, and he's probably trying to understand why he is so upset with you. Oh my god, he's jealous!"
"Emily, he's not jealous. Spence and I are not dating, we pretended to be a couple." She explained, thinking the woman hadn't understood her.
"Yeah, I know that, but I also know that any fake dating movie or book has always reached a point where the two main characters become unconsciously aware of their feelings. This is it! THIS IS IT!" She shook her and laughed, then suddenly came to a stop. "Oh my god, I am the best friend. I am definitely the friend that gives some wise advice that makes it click in your brain, let me think," she looked around the room as if inspiration would pop out of the bed. "I got it: get your shit together and marry Spencer." She stood and walked out the door, before fully closing it she spoke again, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go talk some sense into our little genius. Love you, hope I am invited to the wedding!"
Though after the break in the case they had found themselves relieved and on their way back, the nagging feeling she called Emily Prentiss kept insisting that both doctors were actually in love and that all they needed to do was kiss and become a couple. It was so constant that even when she wasn't around she could hear her echo. Like right then when she was trying to brush her hair and mentally prepare herself for whatever this dinner with Tyler was going to bring. Though she and Spencer had not yelled or continued to argue, there was nothing else left of their friendship, at least that's what it seemed like. It was as if the past months were a dream and they were just back to being coworkers, and that feeling was burning her up inside. She did not realize how important he had become in her life until he wasn't a part of it anymore.
"You look great," Tyler said as she entered the restaurant.
"Thanks, Spence helped me pick out this shirt when we went to the mall a couple of weeks ago. He said blue always looked good on me."
"That's great." The man responded, clearly uncomfortable. "So, I know you had to leave for work the other day, but I was hoping now we could talk more about what happened between us."
"Yes, of course."
She didn't really understand how she had gotten to the point of having an actual conversation with the man sitting across from her, because she had been angry at him for so long, that it never occurred to her as a possibility. He had once again apologized and given her a tale of how he had let his emotions guide him without realizing he could hurt others, and while that didn't excuse his actions, she still accepted his apology, choosing instead to move on from their current limbo. They had quickly changed the conversation, like if two old friends had reconnected after so long. Tyler was a great friend when he wanted to be, he was pleasant company, to say the least.
"And the other day, Spence was trying to learn to play the piano, and I told him there was no way he could learn in a week. So what did he do? He-"
"Stop, just stop!" He interrupted her, and she furrowed her eyebrows confused. "I have been sitting here for an hour listening to you talk about your stupid boyfriend and his IQ of 187." He rubbed his hands through his face and tried to calm down. "Was this the plan all along? You heard me tell you that I wished I hadn't ruined our relationship and decided playing with me was perfect revenge? Accepting dinner only to humiliate me by ignoring me and choosing to talk about that Spencer guy? Is he in on it or something?"
Oh. My. God.
Reid was right, this man was not looking to mend old friendships or start a new chapter, he was looking for a mistress. 
"You, are the worst type of jerk I have ever met. I actually believed you wanted to be friends, to turn the page but all you wanted was to get in my pants." She stood, grabbing her drink and spilling it over him. "I hope I never see you again. Go fuck yourself Tyler." She walked, but before she exited the restaurant she returned and gave him a fake smile, "and also, Thank you for humiliating me in front of my family, you showed me how little you were and that I could do so much better. Say, an FBI agent with an IQ of 187." Once again she turned and this time she didn't even bother looking back.
The drive to her apartment was long, mostly because she didn't drive there, but to Spencer Reid's home. She felt her palms sweat, she hated admitting she was wrong, but she hated not having Spencer around much more than a bruised ego. She knocked on the door and Spencer opened, he looked confused, but as soon as he registered her in he simply raised an eyebrow and changed his confused demeanor to a completely neutral.
"I came to tell you that you were right. He just wanted to get in pants." There was no response, and she fiddled with her hands. "I actually thought he wanted to apologize, and I think part of me just wanted to believe that for the first time I was not being used, that people actually cared about what I felt."
"There are people that care about you, they are just not the wants you wanted to."
"No, they are! I thought I needed the people who wronged me to fix it, to show me that I was worth the trouble when in reality all I needed was for me to understand that I was. And I just needed a reminder that the people that care about me are the ones that should matter the most." A trace of a smile formed on his lips. "I am so sorry about how I acted, and I am sorry I left you here waiting for me. Spencer Reid, you are my best friend and you come before any other jerk out there. I need you to know that this time in which I didn't have you with me was miserable. I missed you so much I spent the whole dinner with Tyler talking about you."
"You did?" He seemed genuinely surprised.
"Yeah, I did. I missed you, and I hope we never fight again, I don't know what I would do without your friendship."
"I missed you too." She bit her lip, and he smiled. "Wanna come in and watch TV?"
"I would love that."
"That's good to hear, I am trying to get Spence here to watch Dance Moms with me but he refuses, maybe if there is two of us, he'll change his mind." A voice inside his apartment spoke. He opened the door to reveal Emily Prentiss wearing Pjs with The Hunger Games symbols on them. "May I say, you look hot. Blue suits you."
"So I've been told."
"Are you sure you can handle being in that close all night though? Maybe Spencer can lend you one of his shirts." She said, winking at them.
"Has she been drinking?"
"It's her third bottle of wine."
"We need to cut her off."
"Yeah, we do." He smiled at her, "She's right though, if you want to borrow something more comfortable let me know."
"Careful Spencer Reid, I might take you up on that."
"Awwww, YOU TWO ARE ADORABLE!" The woman screamed. "Just get married already!"
The pair laughed and made their way to the sofa, she closed the door behind her and sat down, feeling whole for the first time this week. Emily and Spencer were the best friends a girl could ask for, and she couldn't think of a better way to spend the rest of her night than watching trash TV with the two of them as they laughed and joked.
It was home. 
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managedmischiefs · 5 years ago
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north//chapter one
here she is!! after the long wait, here is the first chapter of north! I hope you all like it. let me know what you think. more chapters to come soon🖤
also i dont have a tag list for this but if anyone wanted to be tagged in this fic then let me know and I’ll create a tag list
genre: fluff
pairing: spencer reid x female oc
warnings: very basic troupe that I’m sure some people are tired of lol but other than that, none!
word count: 3k
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SPENCER
Being late to work is not something that I tend to enjoy. I hate it, in fact. I feel like I'm letting my team down if I'm ever late to round table meetings or if I miss a briefing. But these days, sleep is rare. And if I do sleep, it's not uncommon for me to sleep over the array of alarms I have.
Coffee is a must have for me at all points of the day. No sleep means exhaustion and exhaustion means my brain doesn't work as quickly as it could and that means we don't solve cases and not solving cases means more people die. I can't have more people die on my watch so I drink as much coffee as I can. But the coffee in the bullpen isn't always the best so if I ever have time, I stop at a cafe on my way to work. I take the extra five minutes to walk there before hopping on the metro.
I mumble off my coffee order to the tired looking barista and she scribbles down my name. I hand over a few stray bills to pay and get some change in return, tucking it in my pants pocket. I give a tight lipped smile to the barista before moving to a table in the corner of the cafe, pulling a book out of my messenger bag and starting to read, crossing one of my legs over the other. I don't look up while I wait for the barista to call out my name, not even when two people bump into each other in front of the door or a tourist asks someone else for directions. I just read my book and chew my lip, tapping my fingers against the hardcover.
"Spencer," I hear my name being called and finally allow myself attention to be lifted.
I stand quickly, tucking my book in my bag and closing the flap before heading back to the main counter. But the buckle of my bag gets caught on the button of my sleeve when I try to close my bag all the way. I pull at my sleeve, trying to get the buckle unlooped. But in this tussle with myself, I don't even realize that I'm still walking until I bump right into someone. I move my attention from my bag and catch the person's shoulders so I don't completely knock them over and make not only a fool of myself, but of them too. 
"Oh my gosh," I say immediately, my eyes widening, "I'm so sorry,"
"It's okay, it's okay," the girl laughs, her hands squeezing my arms as she regains her balance, “didn’t even fall. You caught me. I didn’t even break a sweat!”
My eyes finally find the girl's face and I'm rendered absolutely speechless. I somehow notice everything about her right away and I memorize her beauty. Her eyes are a bright, beautiful shade of ocean blue and her eyelashes cast shadows over her perfectly pink cheeks. Her hair is wavy and blonde with brown roots, but there's a yellow and blue patterned scarf tied around the front of her head like a folded bandana with pieces pulled out to frame her face. Her nose is small and I can only liken it to a button. Her lips are full and plump and a pretty light pink color and her Cupid's Bow is one that Cupid himself should be jealous of. Both of her ears are full of different types of piercings, and her nose even has a hoop in her right nostril.
She's wearing a light blue knit sweater tucked into a tight denim skirt, along with a pair of short black boots with small heels on them. Her nails are painted white and her fingers are full of rings, each of them different styles and various shades of silver with yellow gems. I notice a tattoo on one of her fingers but she moves and I can't make out what it is. I wonder if she has more tattoos. I find two straps around her shoulders and realize she's wearing a leather backpack, one probably very similar to my own bag. The last thing I notice is the old fashioned camera hanging around her neck, resting just above the waistband of her skirt.
I've seen my fair share of pretty girls. I've seen girls that I wouldn't mind getting to know better. I've met girls that have caught my attention. I've even been in what I believed to be love. But what is this? If I thought I'd seen a beautiful girl before, I clearly hadn't met this girl before. She looks like an angel sent directly from heaven. She looks like she was crafted by God himself and put on this earth to grace mankind with her beauty. Is it fair for one woman to be this beautiful? Is it even possible? I didn’t think that one woman could possess such beauty. 
What the hell is wrong with me? I can barely even breathe. I’m just staring at this gorgeous specimen, admiring her smile and trying to memorize the way her fingertips feel on my forearms. I quickly try to think of something to say, another apology for running into her, but I can barely even breathe when I stare at her, much less speak. 
"Spencer," the barista calls out my name again, setting my cup down on the counter before walking away. Saved by the barista. 
The girl smiles at me and her face lights up, only further illuminating her features. She's got two dimples on her cheeks, bringing out a childlike spirit in her that I pick up right away. "Um," she says with a laugh, "is that yours? You should probably grab it before someone else steals it,"
Okay, Spencer, breathe. You can do this. You’ve spoken to pretty girls before. Sure, it’s hard and it’s scary, but you can do it. Just say words. Preferably, coherent words. Preferably, maybe, a full sentence.
"Right," I finally force out, dropping my hands from her arms. I hadn't realized until now that I was still holding onto her and she was still holding onto me. I reach over and grab my steaming coffee, almost wincing at the heat under my fingertips.
The girl still hasn't moved when I turn back to her, but now she's fiddling with her camera. "Are you," I start to say before hesitating. Her head pops up and she smiles again, letting her camera fall against her stomach. I gulp, shuffling my feet against the floor as I attempt to speak a full sentence. "I didn't mean to bump into you like that,"
"Oh, it's totally fine," she waves her hand at me casually. "I wasn't paying attention either. No harm, no foul. Like I said, I didn’t even break a sweat,” The girl pushes her hair behind her ears and places her hands on her hips. With the confident way she speaks, I almost expect her to keep speaking, but she doesn’t. She just looks at me with the cutest smile, even baring her teeth, waiting for me to say something else. 
So I clutch my cup of coffee and swallow thickly. “I-" I hesitate yet again, but when the girl's eyes scream for me to continue, I do. "What's your name?"
She opens her mouth to speak but before she can, another cup of coffee is placed on the counter. "Amelia," the barista announces before walking away.
Amelia laughs, taking a step over to grab her cup, which I immediately notice is tea and not coffee. "Took the words right out of my mouth,"
"Amelia," I repeat as if testing the way the word rolls off my tongue. It tastes sweet. "You heard already, but, um, I'm Spencer,"
"It's nice to meet you," Amelia holds her hand to shake mine, and the panic starts to set in. For a moment, I debate on actually just shaking her hand so I don’t seem like a total freak to this girl that I seem to have a massive crush on. But the prospect of shaking a total strangers hand is repulsive and when I find myself looking at her hand for more than two seconds, I’m starting to count up the amount of germs that would be present there and I have to force myself not to make a face.
So of course, while my hands get clammy and my heart rate speeds up, I do what I do best. I spit out a fact that Amelia didn't ask for. "On average we carry 3,200 bacteria from 150 different species on our hands,"
Amelia's fingers curl into her palm and she retracts her hand, looking down at her palm and smiling just a tiny bit. "You know, I don't blame you for not wanting to shake hands. It is kinda gross anyway,"
"Sorry," I blurt out immediately, still shuffling on my feet. "That was rude of me,"
"It's not rude," Amelia counters, sipping her tea without so much as grimacing at the inevitable heat. "Are you in a rush?" I glance down at my watch and see that I still have ten minutes until I should be getting on the train. I relay this information to her and watch as she smiles again. "Would you like to sit with me then?"
"Oh," my eyes widen slightly and I squeeze my coffee cup so hard that I think I might poke holes in the sides, "y-yeah, sure,"
"Cool," she breathes out, waving me on and leading me to a booth on the other side of the cafe. I'm far too anxious with this situation and by Amelia's beauty and her comfortability around me to even think about relaxing, or drinking my coffee, or taking my bag off from around my shoulder. I definitely can’t remember any of Morgan’s advice on how to chat up girls or any of the conversation starters I’ve memorized for social situations like this. My mind is completely empty, just when I need it to be full and plentiful. How lovely.
Amelia sits across from me and grins, and every time she does, I swear my heart skips a beat and another butterfly breaks through its cocoon in my stomach. "So where are you off to this morning, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Work," I answer, and then realize that's an incredibly vague answer. Amelia raises her eyebrows as she lounges back against the booth, clearly waiting for me to elaborate. "Uh, I work for the FBI, actually. More specifically, the BAU- the Behavioral Analysis Unit,"
"You're a profiler!" Amelia perks up again, sitting up straighter with a huge grin on her face. "That's super cool! My dad is a police officer, sheriff actually, back home in Texas and I'm pretty sure he's worked with the BAU before and he says you guys are awesome. You catch serial killers, right?"
I'm almost stunned by her reaction. Most people don't believe behavioral profiling works, and most people resist the practice, especially local police. But her acceptance of it is incredibly refreshing, and it's welcomed. Honestly, any type of excitement from this Amelia girl is welcomed. It’s a beautiful sight. 
I can feel my cheeks turn bright red as I nod, still clutching my coffee cup. "Yeah, we do. And um, what about you?" I hate talking about myself so I change the subject. "Where are you off to?"
"I'm actually meeting a friend of mine to go shopping a few blocks over," Amelia gestures out the window. "But since we're talking about your job, I'll tell you about my way less cool job, which is an artist. I went to Carnegie Mellon and then moved here and I’ve been here ever since. My preference is canvas painting but I bring my camera around a lot, hence," she holds up the camera around her neck, "the camera now. I try to capture spontaneous moments for when I do exhibits and galleries and such,”
"I've always loved art. Never been talented at it, but I like it." I shrug nonchalantly and sip my coffee, trying to divert my eyeline down to the table, but when Amelia smiles at me, I can’t find it in me to break our eye contact.
Something about Amelia's smile brings me in. Every time she flashes her teeth, I feel myself sink further into my seat and I feel my head get fuzzier. I almost forget that I have to get to work in just a few minutes. But I don't want to go anymore. I want to stay here and keep talking to Amelia. I want her to keep going on and on about canvas paintings and her education at Carnegie Mellon, or even just tell me why she likes tea over coffee, if that’s even true. I don’t know anything about this girl but I want to.
"Nobody is technically good at art," Amelia responds. "Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses in the arts, everyone sees art differently, and that's okay. I'm sure you're not horrible, I'm sure you just haven't found your strength yet, Spencer," She enunciates my name with such beauty and grace that I almost ask her to say it again. I'd do anything to hear her say my name again.
"If-" I'm cut off when my phone rings in my pocket, so I lean over and fish it out. I read a text from Garcia that tells me we have a case, meaning we'll be briefing for a new case this morning. I sigh defeatedly, wishing I hadn't just gotten a text that usually piques my interest. Today, it makes my heart drop. 
"You have to get to work?" I look back up at work to see yet another smile on Amelia's perfect face. "Go ahead, it's okay," I’m so used to seeing disappointed faces when this text comes in, not a smiling face. It’s odd, somewhat confusing.
I grab my coffee cup and stand as Amelia does the same. She holds her cup to her chest, looking down at her feet. "Will," I chew on the inside of my cheek when she looks up at me, ocean eyes wide with anticipation as I struggle with my words for the umpteenth time, "can I see you again? We barely got to talk and you-"
"Yeah," Amelia nods before I can even finish my sentence. "Can I give you my number?"
I have to hold myself back from jumping up and down in excitement. "Y-Yeah, sure, of course," I pull my phone out yet again as she does the same. She tells me her phone number slowly so I can get it down, but of course, it sticks in my brain immediately.
"Just text me," Amelia murmurs, looking over my shoulder at my phone where my shaky thumbs press against the buttons on my phone to type out- hi, it's Spencer. She waits until her phone rings and then she smiles at me. "Great, I've got it. Now, um, go. Don't let me be the reason you're late in helping people. You don't have to text me if you don't want to," she pauses for a moment, and I wonder what she's waiting for. Is she waiting for me to confirm or deny that statement? Is she waiting for anything at all? Is it an open-ended statement? Where have all my profiling skills gone? Forget profiling- where is my common sense? "But if you do wanna text me," I'm thankful when she starts talking again, "don't until after you've solved your case. Don't worry about me until you've saved lives. But like I said, if you don't wanna text me, you don't have to,"
My phone buzzes again and I can only imagine it's someone from the team asking me where I am, hurrying me along so we can get started on our briefing. I ignore it for now. "Well," I have to clear my throat to be able to speak again. I give Amelia a bashful smile holding up my phone for her to see, "I'll text you when I'm back home,"
Amelia blushes, her bottom lip being pulled between her teeth. She breathes out a tiny laugh, nodding. "I look forward to it, Spencer,"
I take a step towards the door and feel my body grow cold at the distance starting to increase between us. "I'll talk to you soon, Amelia,"
And with that, before I have it in me to take one more look at the angel standing in the corner cafe, I hurry out the front door. There's a dumb smile on my face as I rush down the stairs to the train platform, struggling to swipe my card and respond to Penelope's text at the same time, all while running to catch the train at the platform. I'm somehow successful at all of this and only manage to breathe once I'm inside the stuffy car. Amelia's face is stuck inside my head and I can't get it out, and I'm positive that I never want to.
///
"Reid? Reid!" My head pops up as Morgan forcefully says my name, catching my attention and bringing me out of my daydream.
When I look up at him, he's already staring up at me with his eyebrows raised, clearly expecting an answer out of me about something. I have no idea what that something is, but he’s wanting an answer about it. I clear my throat, placing my cup of terrible police station coffee on the table and running a hand over my face. "Sorry," I apologize half heartedly, "I was thinking,"
Morgan sits across from me at the table and folds his hands. "Case related?" I glance up at him before deciding to completely ignore him, standing and walking up to the board, returning to examining the geographical profile. "Reid, come on, we've been on the case three days. You've been distracted ever since you walked in for the briefing. You can talk to me," I keep ignoring him. I stare at the map in front of me. "Is something going on? Is it your mom?"
"My mom is fine," I spin around and cross my arms over my chest, ignoring the way my heart starts to speed up when Amelia’s face resurfaces in my brain. “Can we just solve this case so we can go home?”
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thewalkingfanfictions · 5 years ago
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Impromptu Cuddles
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"Imagine having to share a bed with Spencer during a case, only to wake up in his arms."
~IMPROMPTU CUDDLES~
Part One // Part Two // Part Three
Description: During a case, Spencer and the reader are forced to share a room with only one bed. Cute fluffy shit happens.
⚠Warning⚠: Mentions of a really bloody case, probably some cuss words. Unless repressed romantic feelings are a problem for you, then nothing else, I don't think.
Genre: fluffy fluff with a tiny bit of angst if you squint your eyes and tilt your head exactly fourteen degrees to the left.
Pairing: Dr. Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds) x non gender specific Reader
A/N: guys, this was supposed to be a one shot, and somehow it turned into nearly seven thousand words. How. I don't even know where I was three quarters of the time, but I love it anyway. I'm breaking it into two or three parts so it'll be easier to read, enjoy! (Also, not my picture, credit to whoever made it :))
Words without A/N: 2006 
Masterlist
<—————————————>
"Alright, team, let's head back and get some shut eye," Agent Hotchner sighed in defeat.
We had just found the fifth body. This one just a little boy, barely five years old. The unsub had been on a non-stop murder spree for the last week and a half, and he didn't seem to have a preference point for his victims.
Nobody was safe from this monster. His first victim had been an elderly Nigerian lady, and his second was a body builder from California. He was just killing whoever, or whatever he could get his hands on. Not just humans was he after. We'd found carcasses of dogs and cats, all the way up to cows decorating his path like some messed up Hansel and Grettle bread trail. All with the same or similar COD.
We had been following his path of carnage all around North America and we still couldn't get a lead. Most of us hadn't slept in over forty-eight hours and none of us were in any position to keep working. So Hotch finally decided to step in and get us one night to rest so we could be in tip top shape for the next days of continued hunting. Or, closer to that than we were now, at least.
Right now we were in some little rag-tag town called Prairie, or something of the like. We'd been to so many places in the last week they had all started to blend together.
"The only Hotel I could find on such short notice is a little place called the 'Budget 8 Motel', they've got eight rooms currently open each with either a medium or a twin sized bed. They've got a point six five star rating and do not provide breakfasts, but do have small kitchenettes in the rooms themselves. Oh– fascinating, did you know that the origin of the star rating scale didn't come into prospect by motel owners until well into the-"
"Spence... we got it."
"Oh yeah, yeah, sorry..." Why do people always cut him off like that? Personally I find his rambling to be absolutely adorable. So what he has verbal diarrhea at times, it was better than swallowing all of his feelings and thoughts and letting them eat him from the inside like the rest of the team did. And I almost always learned something new every time. It was good information to know none the less.
I swear the entire ride I could feel his eyes on me. Every once in a while I would glance up at him out of the corner of my eye and catch him quickly looking in some other random direction.
All of us (except Rossi, who would be meeting us at the hotel) had been crammed into one of the suburbans, and with seven people, it was a squeeze.
Hotch was in the drivers seat with a pregnant JJ in the passengers, which meant that the other four of us had to squish ourselves into the three seated back seat. Morgan was up against the window on the right side with Emily pushed so hard up against him that she was practically in his lap. Then was poor Spencer who, despite his dislike of touching people, was trying his hardest not to be shoving Emily any harder into Morgan, which in turn meant he was heavily pushed against me. He was trying so hard not to squish either of us that he was practically folding himself into a profiler taco.
We soon pulled into the car park of the little Inn. If the inside looked anything like it did on the out, we were in for some fun. Heavy sarcasm intended.
It was already dark out and the one street light that decorated the car park was incredibly dull, and flickering dangerously. There were four other vehicles parked around the place, each more menacing looking than the last. The large rectangle garbage bin was overflowing onto the cement and the smell was absolutely rancid. We hadn't even gotten out of the vehicle yet. We all just sat there for a moment staring at it. Tonight was going to be fun...
"Alright," Derek clapped his hands, "I'll go in and get us our keys. Be back in a sec." He opened the door and spilled out of it rather unceremoniously, pausing  before walking stiff legged towards the door.
"Finally, some room to breath!" Cooed Emily as she scooted over into Morgans previous sitting space, giving some wiggle room to Spencer and I.
I sighed heavily and flopped back against the seat, closing my eyes and counting the seconds until I could go curl up in a ball and sleep. What I hadn't realized, was that I had fallen asleep right there.
I was awoken by a quiet voice speaking in my fac, and soft warmth across my top.
"Hey, (name), come on its time to get up, you can sleep once we get to the room," a soft voice hushed.
Sighing, I opened my eyes to find Spencer's face above mine, one of his hands on my shoulder gently shaking me back to life. Glancing down i noticed a jacket layed over me like a blanket, how had that gotten there? I grumbled slightly but didn't object as he helped me from the back seat and to the ground. He helped me gain my bearings as we walked towards the office, filling me in that everybody else was already in there talking to the guy behind the desk, Rossi had shown up, and there had been some complication with the rooms that he had only just caught wind of as he was leaving to come wake me up.
It was unbelievably cold, I watched out of the corner of my eye as Spencer shivered slightly, but when I tried to hand him back what I quickly realized to be his jacket, he waved a dismissive hand and laid the jacket over my shoulders. I sent him a thankful smile and listened to him talk, just kind of humming along, not really paying attention to his words, just listening to the sound of his voice.
We entered the office and we both automatically went quiet, listening to what was transpiring between the office manager and the team.
"And you're sure there's no other rooms? Or at least some with double beds?" Came the deeper voice of Morgan
"Nope, sorry, all full," this voice was higher pitched, but still distinctly masculine. It held boredom and irritation.
"I don't think you realize, we are federal agents, we've been chasing a psycotic serial killer for the last week and a half, and we are all very tired. So I'll ask you again. Are you absolutely certain that there are no more rooms available?" That had to be JJ. And she sounded homicidal.
"I... I'm so-rry miss but... there.. There's no ex-tra rooms, I'm sorry..." She scared him into stuttering! If I didn't feel like I was about to pass out I probably would have laughed!
"You guys'll just have to... have to double up?"
Spencer and I looked at each other over their conversation questionably. Finally walking into the room, we were greeted by the sight of a very angry looking JJ, an Emily who looked like she could pass out right then and there, three agitated and exasperated BAU operatives and a tall chubby kid who couldn't have been more than fifteen, who looked like he was about to piss himself.
"What's going on?" I asked in a groggy voice that honestly didn't even sound like mine to me.
"Turns out there is only half as many rooms as we thought were open so, yay, we all get to bunk up!" Morgan said sarcastically in a very humorless tone.
''But there was eight. Who gets to be partnerless?" Asked Spencer, who hadn't left my side since we came into the place.
Of course, we all already knew the answer to that one.
Hotch was the boss, and he had been working quadruple time trying to catch this prick, I'm positive that he hadn't slept in at least three days, if not more, and by the look of his disheveled state—one of which he rarely ever showed—he probably hadn't.
Nobody bothered to say any of it, though, all silently agreeing on it.
At some point during our telepathic conversation I had started leaning on Spencer, needing all the help I could get to keep from falling over. And, to my surprise, he didn't get all awkward and huffy. He actually turned slightly so that I was leaning more against his side than his shoulder, trying to make everything a bit more comfortable. Once I actually realized what I was doing I straightened up some and mumbled slightly through a yawn,
"Mmsorrymmm," when I looked back over at him to see if I had made him uncomfortable, he almost looked upset. Oh, I had been making him uncomfortable, but he is so warm I kinda wanted to lean into him again. I bit the inside of my cheek slightly, trying to keep from doing exactly that.
I barely had the energy to lift my head up from staring at the floor. When I heard the tail end of Rossi and the kid behind the counters conversation, I internally groaned. Our rooms were on the second floor, and they didn't have an elevator. I sighed and slowly began trudging after the waddling JJ. Slowly we climbed up the stairs, the thought of a warm bed gave me a bit of a second wind after a while though. Climbing a bit faster Morgan and I were the first to reach our doors.
We both stood there a moment looking at our surroundings. Everything, and I mean everything was decorated with an unhealthy layer of graffiti, dulled slightly by the thick layer of dust that coated it all too. The smell of mold and the other dark things that hid in the crevices of the walls was almost suffocating. This was really the only place open?
Hotch and Rossi and the rest arrived at the top whilst we were looking. They seemed almost as disturbed as Morgan and I were. While the others stopped in front if us, Aaron kept walking, picking a seemingly random room and calling out a half hearted "g'night" over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him.
"Let's decide this now so I can go to sleep," Morgan spoke. His voice groggy with sleep and sounding almost irritated. "Who's sleeping where and in what room." His question had sounded more like a demand, and when Spencer stepped forward, obviously thinking it would be he to stay with in the room with Morgan, Derek quickly looked over to Rossi who was leaned up against the wall. "I call you," he demanded and headed off to a random room.
Spencer almost looked hurt. But when JJ and Emily went off to their room and it was just us two left, his features lifted slightly. Then tightened down into nervousness.
"Guess its us then," I mumbled, already aiming for the door to the room that Spence and I would be sharing. I heard him mumble something inaudible back and follow after me.
I twisted the key in the doors lock and shoved against the door with my shoulder. I stumbled inside and went straight towards the little bed in the corner of the room. The room was one of those two room things that had the living room, bedroom, and kitchen all in one and the bathroom out to the side somewhere.
The bed was an oddity in itself. It looked to be something like a hybrid between a twin size and the next size up. Just a bit bigger that a twin, and it looked older than I am. I was right. The inside of the building did match nearly perfectly with our first view of the place from the car park.
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