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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

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A Fire I Can’t Put Out (Songbird Chapter 2)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: One week later, a chance encounter leads Reader and Spencer to each other once again. Rating: 18+ Warnings: Smut (exhibitionism, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding, male masturbation, fingering, oral sex - male and female receiving, multiple orgasms), Language Word Count: 10k (I got really carried away lol)

SERIES MASTERLIST SERIES PLAYLIST (new songs added with the release of each chapter)

NOTE: Alas! Our first inkling of fluff! While this chapter is very spicy (you get 2 smut scenes 😉), there’s also a very cute, fluffy moment at the piano that I hope you all enjoy! (Just thinking about it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside...) See you on Valentine’s Day for Chapter 3! 🥰

(Also, everyone should listen to the song I added to the end, it’s BEAUTIFUL and I changed the song/title of the chapter to match it last minute, because I just discovered it and it was too perfect not to use lol)

***

The note felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. It may have one time been a crumpled receipt, but now it was a searing reminder of the one time in my life that I'd broken my own rule and allowed a man to stay. It hummed ferociously, screaming at me to do everything in my power to find him again and finally learn his name at the very least.

Because that was the thing that bugged me the most. I thought that by refusing to learn his name that night, I would save myself the potential attachment, but it turns out all that did was make me even more attached to him.

I tried to convince myself over and over that it was just because he fucked me so good I thought I hurdled through space and time, and not because he was incredibly gorgeous, respectful, and pretty much downright perfect. Maybe it was all of those things rolled into one perfect, blissful night that was meant to be just that—a one-night stand. The one-night stand, if you will.

But no matter what I tried to tell myself, my thoughts always drifted back to him. S...

What could his name be? Steven? Sam? Scott? Sonny? Saxon?

I didn't want to think about it anymore. Maybe his name didn't even start with S... Maybe he meant it to mean Stranger. That was possible, right?

That was probably it. That had to be it, otherwise I was going to lose my mind trying to figure it out when there was a high chance I was never even going to see him again.

My fingers drifted over the piano keys and tried to play anything, anything from memory, anything from scratch? God, just play something... And when I finally did feel my fingers press down into the keys, I didn't register what the song was until I was singing the words.

"Say you'll remember me..."

"No!" I slammed my hands on the keys and then leaned forward on my elbows, resting my head in my hands as the loud array of notes faded into the bright, morning air. I took a deep breath and started to laugh to myself. "What the hell, Y/N..."

He wanted to be remembered, right? He wanted me to remember him. And by leaving the first letter of his name—and a note in the first place—that surely meant that he hoped I'd see him again, right? Or that I'd try to find him? Maybe that was his subtle way of telling me he'd be at the bar for the next open mic night, just in case I decided to show up again.

Or, maybe he was just being a decent human being, Y/N, you know shit like that doesn't happen in real life. Don't fucking fall for it.

I sighed and hit random keys on the piano again before getting up and deciding to take a drive.

When even music didn't take my mind off anything—which was almost never—driving always seemed to do the trick. Sure, there was usually more room for thinking when it came to driving, but for me, it was almost panic-inducing if I wasn't giving the road my full, undivided attention. It's not that I was bad at driving, but I certainly wasn't great at paying attention unless I was fully committed. Since I didn't want to seriously injure myself or die in a car wreck, I found that the best option to get my mind off of anything that was troubling me was to just drive.

It hadn't failed me yet, but maybe this would be the thing that finally sent me flying off a bridge and into a river.

I promptly decided not to think about that.

While I was going out I figured I'd stop by the coffee shop on my way out of town, that way I'd at least have a nice iced coffee to indulge in while I just wandered around. I made sure my driving playlist was downloaded to my phone before also grabbing my bag and keys, and then leaving the apartment.

***

"Hi, I'll take a large vanilla iced coffee, please."

"Will that be all?"

I smiled at the barista, whose nametag read Reyna. "Yes."

"Okay, your total is $3.50."

After handing her a five-dollar bill and putting the change in the tip jar, I stood on the other side of the counter to wait for my order and scrolled through my phone as the next person came up and ordered. It didn't take long, which I was more or less thankful for, but when I turned around, I ran right into someone's back and almost dropped my coffee.

"Whoa! I'm so sorry!"

I instinctively looked down to make sure I didn't spill anything, or that the person I ran into didn't spill anything, and when I finally looked up to apologize to their face, I froze and almost dropped my coffee anyway.

There was no fucking way.

"Hey, Stranger," he said almost nervously, his cheeks flushed.

I wasn't sure when I actually answered, but it seemed like forever because I was just so shocked that I actually fucking saw him again. I truly didn't think in a million years I would live in a moment like this, but there I was, taking in this man in all his beautiful glory.

He was more dressed up than the last time I saw him, maybe for work, or maybe that's just how he dressed sometimes. Whatever the case, I didn't give a shit because it was hot as hell. The color of his corduroy jacket was the same as his eyes, which now that I could see him in better lighting were lighter than I remembered. Under it was a white dress shirt and some type of olive green vest. His hair was still messy and downright tug-able, light curls framing parts of his face. Which was currently in the process of taking me in as well.

I smiled at him, though I wasn't sure if it was coming off as too excited, revealing myself to him, or if it was underwhelming. Or maybe it was just right?

Oh, who cares, Y/N, just fucking say something back!

"Hey, yourself. I... can't believe I ran into you again."

My stomach flipped at the way he smiled back at me, like he was almost nervous to be in my presence. Like I would have shooed him away rather than acknowledge him. He was fucking nervous and I found it incredibly endearing. It was such a contrast to... that night. Once he gained confidence, he was really something... But even now he still was really something, just in a different way, as he visibly tried to find the right words to say.

Finally, he settled on, "Yeah, I... I didn't think I'd see you again. It's... a nice surprise."

Understatement of the century, I thought as I waited for him to speak again. His voice was so... I didn't know how to describe it, other than to say it was so fitting for him, and therefore it was perfect.

Was that weird? Was I being weird?

"Do, um... Do you want to sit down?" I offered, gesturing to the tables on the other side of the café.

"Oh, I don't want to keep you if you're busy, I—"

"Nah, I had nothing going on today, trust me." I gave him a wink as we started making our way to the sitting area. "Besides, Stranger, if we're gonna keep meeting like this, I'm gonna need to at least know your name, don't you think?"

He laughed a little before shrugging, waiting until we sat down across from each other to respond. "I don't know, I... I think I like hearing you call me Stranger. It has a nice ring to it."

We both took a sip from our drinks, our eyes never losing their contact. By the way his face turned even redder, I would have thought he'd look away first, but he didn't. I had to wonder if he didn't look away because he didn't want to, or if he couldn't. Either way, I liked it.

"So, Stranger, tell me..." I said, setting my drink down and folding my hands over the table. "You been thinking about me as much as I've been thinking about you lately?"

I could tell he hadn't been expecting that question, because for a second it looked like he was choking on his drink. He coughed before setting it down, though his hand never left the cup. "I— Y—you've been thinking about me?"

Suddenly remembering the note in my pocket, I scrambled to get it out. And as he looked at me, still shocked but a little puzzled now, too, I started to wonder if maybe it was a stupid idea. But there was no stopping it, now, because that would have been even more puzzling, not to mention embarrassing on my part.

I un-crumpled the note and held it in my hands, outward so he could see his handwriting. "I've been staring at this thing and carrying it around with me everywhere in my pocket for the past week, dude."

It looked like he was trying to hide a smile, and failing miserably at it. "So... Leaving the note was a good idea, then, huh?"

I smiled, though trying to hide it wasn't even an option. "Well, it certainly got me thinking about putting a name to the face... and the body... But in all honesty I think I would have been thinking about you regardless."

He studied me for a moment, and an unfamiliar feeling in my stomach just about sucker-punched me at the way he did it, his face softening and just getting lost in thought. Or me, though I didn't want to flatter myself. Even still, the thought of him being completely lost in my presence, in my just being here, discussing our brief past, was enough to tighten the knot in my stomach.

I couldn't tell if I liked that feeling or not.

Because while my body certainly seemed to like this uncharted territory, something tugged at the pant leg of my brain like a small child, looking up at me and saying with sad eyes that they wanted to leave and go home, back to the comfort and safety of what they already knew. And who was I to deny that?

But at the same time, I couldn't for the life of me let this man go. I wanted, ached to know more about him.

I was intoxicated, and it scared the ever-loving fuck out of me.

"Can I tell you my name?" His voice almost made me jump.

I considered it for a moment, before ultimately deciding that it would be a good small step to take. "Yes."

"Will you tell me your name?"

"Maybe."

We both smiled at each other for a few seconds before an idea came to my mind. He was about to tell me his name right then I think, but I held up my hand and leaned forward, tilting my chin up a little. "You know what... Before you tell me, I wanna know something... Have you ever fucked anyone in a public restroom?"

If he'd had any coffee in his mouth, it surely would have been all over the place right then. Instantly his eyes widened and he looked around the room as his cheeks flushed redder than I'd ever seen them. "What are you doing?" he gushed out really fast, almost refusing to look me in the eye.

"Giving you a deal. No one uses the restrooms here because people are always rushing in and out to grab coffee, or there's hardly anyone here to use them anyway. Bottom line is: we can easily be inconspicuous. So here's what I'm offering."

"This isn't a good idea—"

"You don't have to agree, obviously, but hear me out."

I waited for further resistance, but he just blinked at me, and I took that as my cue. "I'm gonna get up and walk to the women's room. You'll follow me after about a minute, and if you can make me cum twice then we can exchange names and numbers."

"We... We can do that without the exhibitionism, though, you know that, right?" He spoke as if anyone would be able to hear him if he wasn't quiet enough.

"Of course. But... I really haven't been able to stop thinking about you, and judging by the way you're shifting in your seat I can tell you're strongly considering taking me up on my offer. Because you haven't been able to stop thinking about me, either. And you really want to fuck me again, probably almost as much as I want to fuck you again. So what do you say?"

He still didn't speak, only stared at me, which left me to wonder what he was thinking. If anything, he almost looked a little petrified, so last minute I decided to take a little pity on him.

"Okay, new plan. I'm still going to go into the bathroom and wait a minute for you, two tops. I am gonna give you this, though..." I grabbed a napkin, a pen from my bag, and wrote my number down on it before sliding it to his side of the table. "I'll wait for you. If you don't want to go through with this, you can leave. But then you're gonna call me later, and we'll set a date to meet up if you want. How's that sound?"

I think he was completely overwhelmed by my ultimatum, because he still didn't say anything. Though this time he seemed... awed. Not necessarily as embarrassed as he was before, but more enchanted with the idea of what I was offering, the way I presented everything to him.

Figuring that was a good sign, I winked at him and made it a point to walk to the bathroom as seductively as I could without being too obvious.

Though, the further I got, and the longer I waited in the bathroom, the more I wondered if he'd already left the café. And then it started to dawn on me that I might have acted like an asshole, giving ultimatums to a man who was just trying to tell me his name. Why couldn't I have just let him tell me? We were right there, and I had to go ahead and turn it into a fucking game... And for what? So I could get laid? The thing is, I was so sure he liked me enough that after he told me his name we probably could have gone somewhere private and—

The door opened, and I was about to yell at whoever it was that someone was in the room already, but then I saw his face and felt myself relax.

"Hey, I'm... I'm sorry if I pressured you into doing this," I said sincerely, as he locked the door behind him. "We really don't have to if you don't want, I was... I was just trying to... I don't know, be mysterious or something? Which, I guess I can be, but I promise I'm not usually like this, and—"

"Hey, it's alright. I promise. Now... I don't mean to change the subject so quickly, but I do believe I owe you two orgasms. And I don't want us to get caught, so I'd like to get to it if you don't mind."

Holy fucking shit..

"You really know how to get a girl to shut up, Stranger," I said, grabbing him by the jacket and pulling him to me. I looked up into his eyes and smirked, walking us backwards until I hit the counter, just beside the sink. "How fast do you think you can get me there?"

A small smirk twitched at his lips before he surprisingly lifted me up and promptly sat me on the counter. "Depends... You gonna keep talking or are you going to let me do my job?"

The low tone in his voice was unlike anything I'd heard from him thus far, and it lit this fire in me that I didn't know I had. With a small, involuntary moan, I spread my legs wide and let him stand between them. He pulled me in for a long, hot kiss before dropping to the ground and wiggling me out of my pants. He ended up taking off my shoes, too, so he could slip my pants and underwear off my body completely. No sooner than they hit the floor did he get to work, his hands coming up to spread my legs once again, propping my heels up on his shoulders.

Unfortunately I couldn't keep myself from moaning out as he worked my pussy with his mouth, each long, wet drag of his tongue adding fuel to the fire he'd already kindled within me. I tried to bite my fist, hoping it would muffle some of the sounds, but it wasn't working.

I was thinking about calling the whole thing off and going somewhere we wouldn't get in trouble, when he seemed to have another idea.

Before I knew what was happening, my panties were shoved in my mouth, and my eyes were rolling to the back of my head as he slipped a finger inside of me with ease. In no time I felt my orgasm creeping up on me, every pump of his fingers and every quick, meticulous flick of his tongue on my clit getting faster and faster with each passing second. I shrieked into the ball of fabric as quietly as I could manage as I started to fall, clenching and shaking around him in record time.

Once I relaxed, he pulled himself away from me and stood up, licking his fingers clean and working at his belt as I stared at him with pleading eyes. I wanted to take the panties out of my mouth, but I knew that if I did I probably wouldn't be able to keep quiet. And the fact that he'd put them there in the first place, after so clearly being flustered at my suggestion to go have a quick fuck in a public restroom, completely turned me on and made me want him even more.

I did manage a pretty decent moan when he finally came forward and lined himself up with my waiting pussy. He smiled a little before leaning forward, never entering me but running his dick over it, coating himself with my arousal. He leaned his head in and brushed my hair from my neck before kissing it, and even softly biting me. If it was going to leave bruises, I didn't care. I welcomed every kiss, every lick and bite, and every slow, excruciating drag of his cock along my pussy.

He slid the tip of himself into me for a second before pulling out and moving my face with his hand, gripping my jaw and making me look at him. I whimpered at the loss of contact where I was clenching around nothing, patiently waiting for him, and also at the gain of our eye contact. I genuinely had no idea what he was going to do next, but I hoped it involved some semblance of a repeat of last time.

But once again, he surprised me, leaning forward and bringing his mouth to mine, ripping the panties from my mouth using his own. He leaned back, the pale blue fabric hanging from his teeth, and the sight drove me absolutely wild. It didn't help that he kept them in his mouth as he slapped my clit with his dick, and it took everything I had not to moan obscenely. He could tell, too, because he brought a hand to cover my mouth right as he pushed into me and held himself there.

He tossed his head to the side and dropped my panties on the ground, then ran his hands along the insides of my legs and rested them on my thighs. "I'll keep going as long as you keep quiet."

"You probably should have kept the panties in my mouth, then," I breathed, clenching myself around him and feeling him grip my skin tighter.

"Guess you'll just have to try and be quiet like a good girl, then, won't you?"

The whimper that escaped me was utterly pathetic. And I loved it.

Needing this to get going now, I reached forward and grabbed his hips, urging him to start moving, and thankfully he did. It was slow at first as we both just savored the feeling of being together like this again.

But in a matter of seconds all pleasantries were thrown out the window, and he slid his hands up to grip my waist as he pounded into me as quietly as he could. To ensure the skin-on-skin slapping wasn't too loud, he kept his thrusts short and staccato, but incredibly deep, setting my insides on fire and making me clutch onto the back of his ass for dear life. I tried so hard not to yell out that I was pretty sure my nails broke through his skin. He hissed out sharply, confirming that I was hurting him, so I let him go and opted to for gripping his shirt instead. I drew him closer, that way I could kiss him and feel all of him at once.

I might have also needed to find some way to keep myself quiet.

I moaned into his mouth as he kissed me back, every swipe of his tongue somehow managing to perfectly find a rhythm in tandem with his thrusts, despite how rushed and sloppy we were being.

It wasn't long before I felt myself start to fall apart, my hands clutching onto his jacket for dear life as my stomach started to knot. "Gonna cum, gonna cum," I murmured into his mouth, and he pulled away to kiss my neck.

My arms wrapped around him and pulled him as close to me as room would allow, right as my eyes squeezed shut and I saw stars, my second orgasm quick and intense. I mumbled little 'uh-huh's into his mouth as he fucked me through it, and when I was done, he pulled out, leaving me dazed but also confused.

It looked like it pained him to pull his pants up and tuck his still-hard dick away, so I reached out. "Why didn't you finish? We're in a bathroom, I can clean up just fine..."

"My orgasm wasn't part of the deal," he stated simply, straightening his clothes and trying to get comfortable.

"So, what, you're just going to walk around town with a boner?"

"No. It'll go away soon, I'll be fine." Once his clothes were all the way on, he reached into his jacket pocket, handed me a slip of paper—a business card it looked like—and kissed me quickly one more time. "Besides, the next time I cum inside you, I'd like to hear you saying my name."

And then he walked out of the bathroom without another word, grabbing my panties and shoving them in his jacket pocket as an afterthought before he disappeared.

I don't think I moved for a good minute or two before I finally looked down at the card and read his note. He must have written it down before he came in here.

Y/N, I heard them call your name at open mic night, and that's when I knew. I'm free tomorrow night. I hope you'll call. —Stranger

I turned the card over and saw his number, followed by his name.

Dr. Spencer Reid.

***

The second I got home, I ran to the bathroom and fixed my... problem... I wanted so badly back in the café to finish what I started, but I'd meant what I told her. I'd sighed her name out as I touched myself the few times since I'd met her, and I could only imagine what it would finally sound like to hear her say my name. I knew she could already tear me apart at her touch, but I wanted desperately to know if my name on her tongue would have the same effect.

I was almost positive it would, but I just needed to know.

It surprisingly didn't take long for me to finish, just the mere thought of her face and the way she looked at me as I shoved her underwear in her mouth enough to take me to the edge. And finally, when I felt them practically bruning a hole in my pocket, I tensed and sighed out her name, cum spilling out over my hand and into the toilet.

The orgasm should have calmed me down, should have relaxed me, but instead, as I cleaned up and changed into different clothes, I wondered if she would actually call me.

First of all, it was a wonder I'd ran into her at all. Truthfully, I didn't think I was ever going to see her again, and when I heard her voice call out an apology for bumping into me, I really thought I was dreaming. And yet, there she was, right in front of me in all her beautiful glory.

So when she offered to sit down with me, I couldn't say no. And when she asked, You been thinking about me as much as I've been thinking about you lately? ... I was pretty sure I couldn't breathe. I didn't tend to think of myself as the type of guy who would leave that good of an impression, so hearing her of all people say that sent my heart—and stomach—into a mess of flutters.

And though the confidence I had in my ability to flirt with women in any capacity was very slim, I must have done something right. Because when I picked up the phone later that night and heard a low, "Hey, Stranger," through the speaker, I couldn't stop smiling. "Or should I call you Doctor?"

***

"YN... I'm really glad you called."

Hearing him say my name for the first time did something to me I couldn't explain. The way he said it was innocent enough, but it still made me beam with excitement.

I was curled up on my couch, wrapped in a robe after my shower and having been contemplating whether or not to call all afternoon.

I didn't want to wait too long in case he ended up making other plans or something, but I was also apprehensive. Because as much as I wanted to keep seeing Spencer, I wasn't sure I could handle breaking his heart. That's what always happened, didn't it? I started seeing someone, things would be great for the first few months, and then as they fell more in love with me I fell more out of love with them. But even then I wasn't sure I could call it that, because I never fell in love with them in the first place. Not even gotten close to it.

Would... Spencer be different? It was hard to tell. He'd already made me feel things I'd never felt before, so maybe this time would be different.

Or maybe that would just make it hurt even more when I inevitably pushed him away.

But I didn't want to think about that. All I knew in the moment was that he intrigued me, and for the first time in my life I actually wanted to to be near him almost every second of the day. Even when I wasn't thinking about him, my body was buzzing with the aftermath of him. His entire being was so magnetic that I couldn't help but be drawn to him. Even if, ultimately, I knew it would end with one or both of us in shambles, I wanted it. I wanted him more than anything, to be with him, to see him smile, to hear him talk...

That little kid that was tugging on my pant leg earlier, warning me that it was time to go home, was screaming now. Scared for its life and begging for me to turn back.

And for some reason, against my better judgement, I ignored it.

"You really knew my name the whole time and didn't tell me?"

From the pause on the other end of the line, I could tell he must have been nervous. I could see him in my head, looking down at his twitching hands as he tried to find some explanation. "Um... Well, you said you didn't want to know names, so I... thought I'd keep quiet. I hope you're not mad about that..."

I smiled. "No, I'm not mad. It was nice of you." I paused a beat before changing the subject. "So, uh... Tomorrow night..."

"Oh... Yeah, I travel quite a bit for work, and I don't get many days off, but tomorrow night is the only time I'm free for a while. So I guess it was a good thing I ran into you when I did."

"Hmm... I guess you're right. In that case, I should probably take it easy on you. Wouldn't want to wear you out or anything."

He laughed a little, and warmth bloomed in my chest at the sound. I imagined seeing him smile, which made it fully blossom. "No need. You... You could wear me out any day."

"Careful what you wish for, Stranger. Time and place?"

"I can be by your place at 6? I'll even bring food if you want."

I paused, suddenly reminded of the screaming child again. This time it was yelling, "It's not safe! Don't let him in, please!"

But God damn it, I wanted to so bad...

"Uh, sure," I finally answered, playing with the hem of my robe anxiously. "You... remember where it is? As I recall, you were pretty nervous the last time you were here, and kind of occupied with... other things."

"Oh, I—I remember everything, pretty much. I know where to go, it's okay."

He didn't elaborate. I kind of wanted him to, but figured the less I knew about him the better. I was invested in him enough already, and knowing more would just plunge me in deeper than I was comfortable with. So, I told him, "Alright. If you need directions or anything though, let me know. Should I be... wearing anything in particular when you get here, Doctor?"

The line was silent, and I could picture that little shocked expression on his face, the one he got every time I said something suggestive that he wasn't expecting. It was cute. "A—Anything you want will be fine..."

I laughed and bit my lip, leaning back into the couch. "Okay... See you later then. Tomorrow night, 6PM."

"Tomorrow night. 6PM. Goodnight, Y/N."

My face felt warm and my stomach fluttered as I curled into myself and smiled into the phone. "Goodnight, Spencer."

What surprised me most about that night was that I didn't hang up right after. I waited. And waited, until he hung up, just in case he said anything else. And I think he was in the same mindset, because we sat in silence for a good fifteen seconds before I finally hung up, shaking my head and wondering if he thought that was weird.

As it turns out, he didn't.

About ten minutes later, as I was getting into bed, I got a text message that read: I hope you know that I always have your song stuck in my head. The one from the bar. I hope you'll sing to me again one day.

I promptly sent back: If you're a good boy for me tomorrow, I just might, and set my phone on my dresser, ignoring the way my heart swelled at his sentiment.

Sleep didn't come easily that night. And when I did finally drift off, my dreams were about Spencer.

***

Usually I was decently confident when it came to my 'date' outfits. I knew what looked good on me, and I knew what made other people go, "Holy shit," under their breath when they saw me, so it should have been easy. And to some degree it was, but with all these weird feelings I was having lately, I was second-guessing myself.

But no matter how badly I second-guessed my decision, I stuck with what I knew best, wearing a thin black long-sleeved shirt with a low neckline and form-fitting jeans that flared at the bottom. A necklace with a silver diamond that matched my belly-button ring sat nicely at my chest, right above my cleavage. I opted to leave my hair down in long, loose curls that curled away from my face, and framed my eyes with simple black eyeliner and mascara, leaving my lips alone with a peppermint chap stick. Remembering how Spencer had complimented and basically worshipped my hands, I accented them with a deep purple nail polish that almost looked black if there wasn't any light shining on them. I put on a few rings that matched my other body jewelry and wore a thin, braided rope bracelet that my sister made me for my thirteenth birthday. Since I didn't think we were going anywhere, I only wore black ankle-length socks, but kept a pair of simple black heeled boots by the door in case we did decide to leave.

As for my... undergarments, I chose a nice black lace set that I only brought out on rare occasions, and I felt like it fit. The material was sheer and lacy, and that was about it. It was simple, but sexy, and that's what I loved about it. And if I knew Spencer's taste as well as I thought I did, I was pretty sure he would love it, too.

And that fact alone was enough to snap me out of my worry.

Kind of. I mean, he was still coming to my apartment, and I was almost certain that he was going to look around and probably ask some questions about things. Which, normally wouldn't be a bad thing, and in a way it really wasn't, but it still made me nervous...

I just hoped that I could keep him occupied enough so that I wouldn't have to deal with it too much.

There was a knock at my door, and I was thankful, finally pulled out of my head and into the world around me. I got up and opened the door with a smile, leaning against it slightly and taking him in.

"Hey, Stranger," I drawled, giving him a wink as I stepped aside to let him in.

But he didn't come in. Not until he was done taking me in, of course. "You... Wow, uh, hi," he stammered, holding out a bag that had to be takeout. "You look great."

As he walked in, I shut the door behind him and looked at his backside before he turned around. "Speak for yourself."

He took off his shoes, which revealed one red striped sock and one purple and blue polkadotted one, which made me smile. He wore simple grey corduroy pants and a purple sweater that matched my nail polish almost perfectly. His hair was just as perfect as it was the last two times I saw him, rightfully messy and curly that made me want to skip dinner all together and get right to dessert.

I even told him as much.

"You're kinda making me want to skip dinner."

"Oh, we... We can eat after if you want to, I don't mind," he offered kindly. It was sweet.

I laughed and walked up to him, bringing my right hand up to run my fingers through his hair. Then I leaned up and kissed him hotly on the lips for a few seconds before pulling away and letting out a low 'hmmm'. "Probably a good idea, but I'm starving."

I turned and started to the kitchen, throwing back over my shoulder, "That okay with you?"

"Y—Yeah, of course."

I turned on the light above the table before pulling out a chair for him with a smile. "I didn't really eat much today, so takeout sounded really good. I hope you didn't have to go too far out of your way to grab it, otherwise I could have made something here."

He sat down and I went to the other side of the kitchen to grab forks and plates. "Oh! No, it was alright, it was on the way over. Plus, I guess I don't really mind the travel, since I already do so much of it."

"Right, you mentioned that," I confirmed, taking a seat across from him. My dining room table was small, since my apartment wasn't that big. Even sitting across from one another, if Spencer and I reached our arms out across the table, we would have been able to reach each other's shoulders.

"Hey, do you want anything to drink?" I asked. "I've got some white whine in the fridge, otherwise I also have water, milk, and I think some Sprite."

"Oh, uh... Water is fine, thank you."

As I got up to get it, he got out the food. "Not a drinker?" I wondered aloud, grabbing glasses and the pitcher of water from the fridge.

"Not really. I'll have one on occasion, but if I'm driving I like to steer clear."

So, he wasn't planning on staying the night, then... Ultimately that was a good thing, but a small part of me admittedly felt disappointed. Regardless, I didn't let it show. "Makes sense. I don't drink a lot either, but I've been known to have a good time occasionally. And I always need white wine in the house, that's a rule of mine."

I didn't see his smile, but I could feel it. Was that weird? Feeling a smile? I'd never been able to tell, never noticed that before, but right then I just knew it was there.

But maybe it was just the way he said, "Fair enough," that made me certain.

Whatever the case, I shook the feeling and made my way back to the table with full glasses of water.

We ate with few words between us, though occasionally Spencer would throw out a random fact about the origins of the food we ate, or we exchanged small stories of both of our inabilities to use chopsticks. It was nice, being able to eat with him and not have to talk about where I was from or what my family was like. I never liked sharing that much of myself with someone that soon, let alone at all, so I was thankful for the ease our conversation carried.

Though, at one point he asked, "So, you're a musician? Is it full-time?" And it stopped me in my tracks a little. I loved music, and I was definitely passionate about it, but again, it was so personal to me that for some reason my brain kept sending me signals to turn around and change the subject.

But it was an innocent question. And I used music to my advantage all the time, it wasn't a secret that I was good at it, so I could give him an answer. And I knew that I didn't have to tell him anything I didn't want to, so I just needed to get my shit together and stop worrying. I had to remind myself that not everyone was going to use the things I tell them to hurt me. Truthfully I don't know why I was so paranoid by that, because it never happened, but I chalked it up to just looking for any excuse to keep myself closed off.

I brushed off all the discomfort and doubt I had, and took a drink of water before answering truthfully. "It's not full-time, but I think I'd like it to be. I definitely love it enough, but whether I could handle the stress of being a full-time musician or not is... well, it has yet to be seen."

"Do you write your own songs?"

"Mhm. Have been since I could talk, really. But whenever I perform it's usually covers that everyone knows. Easier to get them excited, anyway."

Spencer smiled, leaning forward a little. "You know, actually I'd never heard the song you sang at the bar that night... That was a cover?"

"Yeah. You don't listen to the radio?"

"Not really. If it all sounds like that, I may have to start, though I'm pretty sure it's not."

I laughed a little. "You'd be right about that... Still, the radio has its merits. I'm a fan of more independent stuff myself, but I keep up to date with what's new. Kinda have to."

"Why's that?"

I chewed my lip for a moment before answering. "Well, I don't do it full-time since I have a day job, but on the side I've helped with writing and producing other peoples' stuff, and a lot of it is what you hear on the radio, so..."

"Oh, that's really cool," he mused, and his eyes gave away that he genuinely seemed impressed. I almost blushed at the sight. "Y'know, I'm sure if you did decide that you could handle the stress of being a full-time musician, everyone would love you."

I laughed again. "You've never even heard my stuff."

"I don't need to," he answered truthfully. "I've heard you sing, you're incredible. And you know how to produce and write music. And, if it's good enough to be on the radio, then I know you've got nothing to worry about."

He could have just been saying that to be nice, and if it wasn't so clearly written on his face that he really believed what he was telling me, I would have thought so. Heat crept up to my cheeks, and I smiled, telling him, "Thank you," before taking another drink of water to cool myself off.

We spent the rest of the meal talking about some of our favorite music, which was a nice way to end it. We had a decent discussion about classical music (He was surprised and I think a little turned on by the fact that I knew a lot of what he was talking about in that department), and as we cleaned up the dishes he happily told me about the story behind one of my favorite classical pieces (which I didn't know and was more than glad to learn).

And while we were on the subject of music, I took him over to my piano when we finished cleaning up, which sat under the only window in the main room of the apartment. The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow over the sleek black of the piano. Since it was a small apartment, I couldn't have a 'fancy' piano like I wanted, so it was an electric one with a few settings to change the sound. I never messed around with it though, unless I was working on something for someone else. But even then, I did that work with other people in the studio, and not at home.

"Here, sit next to me," I said, patting the small space on the bench.

We barely fit together, but it gave us an excuse to be close to each other, which I think he liked. I know I liked it, at least.

"Are you gonna play something?" he asked. "I mean, you don't have to of course, I don't want to make you or put pressure on you or anything, but..."

"I wouldn't have brought you here if I wasn't going to play you something, Stranger," I said with a laugh, turning the piano on and nudging him with my shoulder. "Though, if you don't want me to, I can think of a few other things I could do for you instead..."

I looked up at him to see his face in a flush, and I smiled, my stomach knotting in that unfamiliar way again.

"Um... Maybe when you're done playing," he said finally, reaching out to ghost over the keys with his fingers.

"Do you play?" I asked, suddenly very warm, and turned on at the idea of watching his hands work around a piano.

"A little. I... I don't know much, but I'm a fast learner."

With a small smile, I grabbed his hand and placed his fingers over certain keys to make a chord. "There. Press all of those together," I told him.

He did, and a smile broke out on his face.

"C Minor," I said. "My favorite chord."

"You have a favorite chord?"

"What, you don't?"

"I... never really thought about it."

We laughed together for a few seconds before he played the chord again, this time tapping the pedal underneath to make it ring out longer. I looked up at him with a smile, right as he looked down at me with an even bigger one. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say we got closer, even though that was impossible unless I'd sat on him. Which I didn't do. Not right then at least.

No, I cleared my throat and messed around with a few keys, trying to decide what to play. Spencer removed his hands from the keyboard as I did it, and I could feel his eyes watching my movements. The thought sent more warmth through me, and I decided to go with something familiar.

My fingers settled on the right keys and started playing the chords to Wildest Dreams. And when I started singing, I swear I felt him melt beside me. It was different from the guitar performance, because at the piano I made it sweeter. My vocals weren't as strong, and I slowed it down to make sure I got everything perfect, but made it a point to look over to him occasionally, winking as I sang some rather sultry lyrics.

When I was done, I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He looked down at me, his eyes studying my face like he was going to kiss me, but he leaned away from me, like he was deciding against it. Finally though, he spoke.

"While I appreciate the performance, it completely juxtaposes the text you sent me last night."

I really didn't know what to say, mostly because I was having a hard time remembering what I texted. I would have been able to remember any other time, but in the moment I was just too entranced by his presence and the way he was staring at me. "W—What did I say?"

My hand was still on the piano, but I felt his reach out and lightly brush over it, caressing the lengths of my fingers. "You said you might sing for me if I was good for you... We haven't done anything yet, and you still sang for me anyway."

Oh, that...

I smiled, sliding my hand out from under his and dragging my middle finger along his own, up and then back down, over and over again. "Didn't you know that I can see the future?"

He looked amused. "Oh, really?"

"Mhmm..." I kept drawing lines up his middle finger, but leaned in closer to him. "And just before you got here, I saw that you made me cum three times."

He took a moment before leaning in closer and responding, his voice barely above a whisper. "You and your ultimatums..."

"It wasn't an ultimatum. It was the future."

Our faces got closer...

"Oh, okay. I believe you."

...And closer...

"Good."

My eyes fluttered closed as he kissed me, gently and with a care that was practically butterfly-inducing. I leaned into him further, finally moving my hand up his arm and snaking up to grab his hair. As his lips parted and his tongue gently swiped over my bottom lip, I climbed up onto his lap, placing my hands around his head to anchor myself to him. He used his to grab the piano in front of him, pushing us forward a little so we wouldn't fall off the bench. The mess of notes rung out loudly in the air, much like they had the day before, right before I went to the café and ran into him.

The coincidence of it all almost made me laugh, but the humor quickly dissipated before I could, because Spencer brought one of his hands to my lower back and groaned softly into my mouth.

I moaned right back, shifting my hips slightly so that I was straddling one of his legs. He spread them wider to give me more room, and I settled nicely, grinding down and almost whining at how little friction there was between the corduroy that adorned his leg and the denim that adorned mine. That didn't stop me, though. I rode his thigh as well as I could, relishing in the way his hand pushed me further into him and his kisses got deeper and more desperate.

Eventually, though, I had enough. I pulled my mouth away from his and clumsily got off of him, standing up and unbuttoning my jeans. He turned around and reached out to help, but I put a hand on his chest and pushed him back. "Stay right there. I'm gonna finish what I started, but I need to get these damn pants off first."

He didn't argue. I held eye contact with him up until I slowly tugged my pants down and stepped out of them, lifting up my shirt a little so he could see the underwear I was wearing. As expected, his eyes wandered south, and I could have sworn I saw his pupils dilate.

But I didn't give him a lot of time to take them in. I made good on my promise and climbed up on his lap again, wrapping my arms around his neck and biting my lip as I started to ride his thigh once more. I started off slow, pressing my forehead to his and enjoying how it felt when his hands firmly grabbed onto my ass. Our lips met again, slowly and yet, also just as desperate as they had before. And with each antagonizing slow roll of my hips, his kisses got bolder, and his hands kneaded my ass, urging me to go faster.

Thankfully for him, I was feeling just as desperate as he was. So I quickened my movements on his thigh and kissed him harder, taking his bottom lip in between my teeth and tugging it before tilting my head to the other side and kissing him again. Meanwhile I could feel that burning in my lower stomach that signaled a fast-approaching orgasm. So I ground myself onto him even harder and whined in his mouth, just before pulling away to speak.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum already," I breathed, pressing small kisses to his jaw.

Spencer squeezed my ass and leaned into my touch. "Go ahead, Y/N..."

It wasn't like he was giving me permission, but just hearing him say my name regardless sent me over the edge, and in no time I was shaking around his leg, clenching my own around him and clinging to his neck for dear life.

Once I came down, I sighed and smiled into his neck, kissing it and moving up to his ear. "Two more to go."

What he said next threw me completely off guard.

"No."

It wasn't a command, or a threat. It was a matter-of-fact statement. I pulled away and looked at him, puzzled. "What?"

He only smirked. "You said I was going to make you cum three times... You did that one all on your own."

The sultry, cocky way he said it made me melt, and I knew then that I was in some serious trouble.

The first time he made me cum was right there on the piano bench. He insisted that I sit down while he eat me out, and I wasn't one to complain. However, he did drag it out so long that by the time I actually came, it felt like I'd done it a thousand times over.

So, to give myself a little break, I returned the favor, and we made it to the kitchen before I couldn't wait any longer and promptly decided to suck him off while he leaned back against the counter. I took the same courtesy he had in dragging it out, pulling off of him completely right as he was about to cum, and I absolutely melted into a pile of nothing upon hearing how he whined and panted while I did it.

I did that in about five long, excruciating cycles before he told me it was my turn and dragged me into my bedroom.

The second time I came, he fucked me against the door, one of my legs standing on the ground while the other lifted and rested on my dresser. He didn't waste any time, just pushing my panties aside and fucking me hard and fast. And fast it was. It only took about a minute before I was convulsing around him, every nerve I had set on fire.

He let me have one more break, laying me down on the bed and taking his time stripping off the rest of my clothes. He must have spent a solid half hour just licking, biting, and teasing my breasts, his hand occasionally reaching down to graze my clit for a few strokes before returning to touch the rest of me. All the while, he slowly rutted against my thigh, moaning into my skin when he got close and stopping his movements all together for about a minute before continuing.

But I was growing impatient and squirmy. So I grabbed his face, pulled him up to kiss me, and wrapped my legs around his waist.

"Fuck me, Spencer, please," I begged, kissing his jaw and shivering at the way he whimpered hearing his name fall from my lips.

He adjusted us for a moment before sliding into me slowly, and we both let out some of the most filthy sounds I'd ever heard. Every movement and sound we made from then on was frantic, desperate, and so full of need that I was almost positive I wasn't even alive anymore. Was I even ever alive at all? Did life exist?

"I can't... I'm go—gonna..."

Spencer suddenly coming to a halt and coming inside me was all I could feel, and it brought me back to my senses. I breathed out his name as he continued emptying everything he had into me, just like he'd admitted to me that he wanted back in the coffee shop. I was close myself, but with his halted movements, I didn't get there.

As I moved one of my hands down to rub my clit, he grabbed my wrist and pinned it above my head, pulling out and then plunging back into me, causing me to gasp.

"That's my job, angel," he murmured sweetly, just as he began slowly fucking his cum into me.

If I wasn't already in trouble, that would have destroyed me.

It didn't take long before I was crying out his name and orgasming for the fourth time that night. It was the most powerful one I'd had... well, ever, if I was being honest. My back gradually lifted off the bed and my eyes were screwed so tightly it felt like they were bruising.

But God be damned if I didn't want to experience that whole feeling over and over again for the rest of my life.

He stayed there for a moment, leaning over me and brushing the softest kisses to my temple as we caught our breaths. Eventually, though, and I wasn't sure how long exactly we'd been wrapped up in each other, he pulled out and laid beside me. And if it wasn't for his cum dripping out of me, I would have probably fallen asleep right there and been happy.

As if he was able to read my mind, Spencer sat up and brushed some of the hair from my face. "I'll go get something to clean you up real quick. Don't move."

I giggled, feeling light-headed and completely blissful as I caught him in our afterglow, taking in his beauty and basking in it like the sun. "I wouldn't go anywhere even if I could."

It wasn't until he came back and started cleaning between my legs with a warm washcloth that I realized what I said.

It took even longer for me to realize that he'd grabbed and put back on his underwear and pants.

As he tossed the washcloth into the laundry basket in the corner of my room, I sat up and reached for his sweater, slipping it on before he could say otherwise. It smelled like him and fit just right, which made me feel all warm and happy.

"Did you, um... want me to stay?" he asked softly not stepping any closer.

Yes.

"It, uh... would probably be better if you left. But... You can stay for an hour or two before you go home?"

Of course it was only a suggestion, because I couldn't make him do anything. But I asked it like a question, because I really wanted him to stay, just for a little bit longer if he couldn't stay the whole night.

Spencer nodded, smiling, and looking a little relieved if I was reading him right. "You should try to go to the bathroom first. Urination after sex is essential to prevent UTIs."

Smiling, I got up from the bed and kissed him on the cheek before grabbing a pair of clean underwear from my drawer and walking to the bathroom.

When I came back with a freshly washed face, my jewelry discarded, and feeling refreshed and ready to fall asleep, he was laying on my bed with his eyes closed and his arms crossed over his bare chest. Thinking better of it, I took off his sweater and threw it at him before rummaging through my drawers for a night shirt of my own.

"You could have kept it on," he said quietly, even as he put the shirt back on himself.

I shrugged, slipping on a large brown tee-shirt and climbing into bed under the covers. "You can't go home without a shirt."

"Right..." He sounded a little sad, but maybe I was just imagining it.

I rolled over on my side and looked at him, already feeling myself start to drift off. But I forced my eyes open and reached out to brush my fingertips through his hair. "Will you stay until I fall asleep?"

"Of course," was all he said, a small smile adorning his lips.

I hummed and nestled in closer to him, and his hand came down to rub the inside of my arm.

And as much as I tried to stay awake, just so he would stay longer, inevitably I fell asleep, hearing Spencer humming the melody to my favorite classical piece.

***

My arms stretched out, seeking his warmth even though I knew it wouldn't be there. I told him, made it a point to make sure he knew he had to leave after I fell asleep.

So why did I feel saddened by his disappearance?

I groaned into my pillow and stretched my body, already feeling it ache from all that... strenuous activity from the night before. When I opened my eyes and turned my head, I saw just a glimpse of the sun peeking through the curtains in my bedroom, illuminating what looked like a piece of paper on the other pillow next to me.

I slowly sat up and grabbed it, rubbing my eyes to will myself to read it. I already figured it would be another note from Spencer, but my hear fluttered when I read it nonetheless.

Not sure when I'll be free to meet again, but I'd like to keep in touch— As much as I love when you call me Stranger, I'd prefer to be anything but.

Sweet dreams, — Stranger Spencer

Yeah. I was definitely in trouble.

***

“All my pleasure choked by pain Since I let you get away. I should’ve tied you to the bed When I had you in the flesh. Now I’m chained to the memories.

How the music played loud. How my hair came down. How you kissed my mouth With a fire I can’t put out.

Why does it feel like torture Not to have your skin on mine?”

—Liz Longley, Torture

SERIES TAGLIST: @bluesunrise02 @meowiemari @teenwolfgirl90

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes

(Please let me know if you’d like to be added to either taglist! Thank you!)

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#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid #songbird

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 5 years ago

Text

Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Spencer has made an enemy with an unsub. The team believes it’s over after they catch him, but they don’t realize one big detail; unsub isn’t working alone and that partner has gone after Spencer’s girl. Will Spencer make it in time to save her?

// Anon request: can u do one where reid saves the reader from getting kidnapped or shot pls🥺🥺 //

// Anon request: ok this might be confusing but can u do one where the team goes on a case, but like the unsub actually had a partner back at reid and the readers apartment and kidnaps her and he gets super like protective and cute and like awe reid is so baby🥺🥺 //

A/N: sucker for angst. So I combined these two requests because they’re so similar. I steered away from the request a little and may have gotten carried away while writing it, but I’m kind of proud of this one. Thank you both for your request! I hope you enjoy :) xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Supernatural (I’m only up to season 2, so please don’t request something with spoilers)**

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNER

WHO GAVE HIM THE RIGHT TO LOOK THIS DAMN SEXY UGH

Finally, the BAU team tracked down the unsub. Currently he is in custody, chained to the interrogation desk. This was the man who’d taunted the BAU team for months. He’d sent them on numerous goose chases and they finally caught up to him when he made a mistake, which then led to his capture. This man got under Spencer’s skin the last time they faced him and since then Spencer did everything in his power to find him and take him down.

The first time they had caught up to the man at his home, they were all shocked to the core, Spencer specifically. Inside the home, the team found a room dedicated to photos of him and his wife, in their home, his wife at the grocery store, the two of them on dates. The man had been following them, taking photos of them, invading their privacy. Spencer was sick at the thought and since then, he couldn’t sleep until he knew his wife was safe. Until he knew the man was put behind bars.

The man had killed numerous women, up and down the coast. They caught up to him outside of Georgetown and when they arrived at his home, he’d already slipped away into the darkness. The man had laid low for a few weeks, then the murders began again, this time, the women favoring Spencer’s wife. Spencer and the team knew exactly who was behind these murders. He was back, this time in a small town on the coast of South Carolina. After the 3rd woman, the man made a mistake and slipped up, allowing the team to finally put an end to this.

However, the BAU team made a mistake, a very big one. They’d missed key information, that could potentially put the woman Spencer loved in danger.

Spencer stood across from the man that had tormented him and his wife for months, anger boiling inside him. It took everything he had not to reach across the table and strangle the man.

“This is the end for you. You’re facing charges for over 20 women up and down the east coast.” He slammed his hands against the metal table, “You’re facing the death penalty. You will get what you deserve!”

The unsub smirked, “Oh but Dr. Reid, this isn’t the end. You really didn’t think I would leave without making sure your suffering will continue?” He sits a little straighter in his seat, leaning forward, “Tell me Dr. Reid, have you spoke to your wife today? Told her you loved her?”

Spencer straightens, fear washing over him. He hadn’t spoke to you today. He was caught up in the case to bother to call you. The unsub began to laugh wickedly, seeing Spencer’s fear. Spencer then stormed out of the interrogation room, the rest of the team waiting by the door. Hotch already on the phone, “We need officer’s at (you and Spencer’s address) right now!”

The team was in South Carolina, you were back at your home in Quantico. He checked the time. It was Thursday, 5:43 pm. You would have been on your way home from work by now. You would have stopped by the grocery store on 4th to get groceries to cook dinner. Thursday’s were chicken night. He knew you probably would have splurged and bought a bottle of wine for yourself along with cookies. Cookies were your weakness.

Spencer’s hands began to shake, “How could we have missed this?” He roughly runs his hands through his hair. How could he have missed that this unsub had a partner? How could he be so stupid?

“Reid, calm down. Hotch has officer’s on their way to your home now.” Morgan tried to calm his friend, but all Spencer seen was red.

“I’m going to kill him.” He mumbles. Before anyone can act, Spencer has barged into the interrogation room and has thrown the unsub into the wall, his hands wrapped tightly around his throat.

“Reid! Stop!” Hotch and Morgan are grabbing at Spencer, trying to pull him off the man.

“You sick bastard!” Spencer’s hands tighten and he can feel the life draining from the unsub.

“Reid if you kill him, we have no way of finding her!” Hotch yells, ripping Spencer off the man. Morgan’s arms wrap around Spencer’s body, holding him back, “Kid, you got to calm down!”

“Get him out of here!” Hotch yells at Morgan, who begins dragging Spencer out of the room, the door clicking shut behind them.

“Morgan, he’s got her… he’s got y/n..” Spencer’s body goes limp in Morgan’s grip and begins wracking with sobs.

You push open the door with your foot, your hand full of groceries. You only needed a few things for dinner, but you hoped Spencer would be home this weekend so you two could spend the weekend at home, binge watching tv and eating your weight in junk food. You grunt, setting the grocery bags on the counter. Slipping your shoes off by your bedroom door, you enter the kitchen and begin putting away groceries, continuing to play your playlist you were jamming in the car to.

Your body tenses as you feel the cold barrel of a gun pressed against your back, “don’t move.”

Your breathing becomes rapid and you slowly raise your arms, “Please.. please don’t do this.” You whisper.

The man puts a cloth over your mouth and you thrash, trying to keep it away. “No!” You throw your head back into the man’s nose and groan. That hurt more than you thought it would. The man staggers back against the counter, holding his nose, “You bitch!”

Your head throbs and spins as you slip passed him and head for the door. Just as your hands grasp the door, the man grabs you, throwing you into the wall, the mirror falling to the floor and shattering. Your body falling into the broken glass.

You whimper as he grabs you by your hair, your hands going to his, “Let me go!” He drags you along the floor into the living room, tossing you into the coffee table. Pain shoots across your body, but you ignore it grabbing a vase from the side table, hitting him in the side of the face. He falls to the ground and you stagger to your feet heading for the door once more, but you never make it.

A gun shot rings through the home you and Spencer shared. The last thing you see is the smiling photo of you and Spencer on the wall. It was your wedding photo, taken moments after you two promised to love and protect each other.

Spencer and the team were on the jet within the hour, heading back to Quantico. Back to you. When the police arrived at you and his home, they found the door opened, broken glass and a trail of blood out the door, but you were no where in sight.

He stares aimlessly at the wall in front of him, the gears in his head running a mile a minute. He racked his brain wondering how it come to this. He had caught the unsub that had terrorized you two. He promised you after he was caught, this would all be over. You two could live normal lives. Now, the unsub was locked in cell somewhere, but you were gone, disappeared. The only thing left was a blood trail out the door.

“Kid.. we’re going to find her.” Morgan says quietly, his hand going to Spencer’s shoulder.

“We won’t stop until we do. She’s family, Reid.” Emily says, taking a seat next to him.

He figured he was in shock. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t function. When they arrived at your shared home, he could see you put up a fight. Those self defense classes must have helped. He glances at the kitchen counter, the groceries still there, untouched. Sure enough, there sat a bottle of wine and a box of cookies. He’s broken from his trance as Hotch’s cellphone rings.

He’s nodding, listening intently to what someone’s saying. He looks up at the team standing in the living room, “That was the sheriff from next town over. Said he just received a call about a woman stumbling up onto a porch, bloodied and beaten. Thinks it could be y/n.”

Spencer’s heart was beating out of his chest as Morgan drove to the hospital. The sheriff informed Hotch, they took her to the hospital immediately. She suffered extensive injuries, but kept telling people she escaped, that a man had kidnapped her and kept muttering that she needed to speak with Spencer Reid.

He practically ran into the hospital to the room where the unknown woman was. His heart dropped when he entered. It wasn’t you laying on the bed. He slowly walked over to the bed, the woman’s head rolled over to face Spencer, wincing as she sat up a little.

“Are you Spencer Reid?” The woman asks. Spencer only nods in response.

“Your wife…” Her voice is hoarse, “She saved my life.”

“Y/n? How? What happened?”

“The man brought her in, there was blood everywhere. I thought she was dead. But he left her in the room with me. I rushed to her side and she had a pulse. He’d shot her in the side. The bullet grazed her. I patched her up with what I had. Which was only a few t shirts. She finally woke up later that night. She told me that she knew where we were, she’d woken up long enough during the ride. We were in the middle of the woods, not far from civilization. So, we thought of a plan. She knew she couldn’t run so she told me to run and get help. She would attack the man when he came in. She made me promise if I got out, to tell them I needed to talk to Spencer Reid. It was late that night, the man came into the room and she attacked him from behind. I was able to slip out the door and I ran to find help.”

Spencer was quick to get on the phone with Penelope with the information. She worked her magic and soon there was a location.

Swat and the BAU team had the small cabin surrounded. There was no way out of this for the guy. He knew that. When he entered into the room, he was panicked. You used that to your advantage and was able to fight the gun from him, getting a clear shot through his chest.

Spencer’s heart stopped as the gunshot was heard. “Move in!” Swat yelled and begin closing in on the home.

Morgan was the one who saw it first. The door began to open and a figure limped out of the door. “Hold your fire!”

It was you. You were safe. Before he knew it, he was running to you, his body colliding with yours.

“Spencer!” You cried. The collision sent pain through your body, but you ignored it. Spencer was here. You were in Spencer’s arms and that is all that mattered.

Spencer’s body wracked with sobs and he held you, “Oh god… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

You shook your head, “I’m okay. I’m fine..” You pulled away to look at him. He looked rough. Bags under his eyes. His face was red and wet from crying. A tear slipped down your cheek and you wrapped your arms around him again.

“I love you so much… god I love you.” He says into your hair.

“I love you too…”

Spencer carried you to the ambulance and he never left your side, riding in the ambulance to the hospital. He never let go of your hand either, scared that he would lose you if he were to let go. He finally had to let you go as they took you into the hospital. He didn’t want to leave your side then, but your reassured him, you would be fine. You were safe and everything would be okay.

*******************************************************************************************

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