#luke alvez x reader fanfiction

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Amnesia

Prompt: You experience some retrograde amnesia after you and Luke are in a car accident. 

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: car accident, trauma, blood mention

A/N: continuing to repost these :)

The first thing that you notice when you wake up is that your head is throbbing. The pain is worse than that time you and Penelope decided to go bar hopping all night when you were visiting Emily in London. It had taken two whole days for the three of you to recover.  Judging by the way you feel right now, you think it might take a whole lot longer than that to get over whatever you had been up to the night before. 

It takes a moment, but soon, you start to realize that this pain felt like much more than just a bad hangover. Your entire body aches, and when you try to touch the spot on your head that really stung, a sharp pain shoots up your entire right arm, making your eyes open slowly in response. 

Slowly, you take in the room around you, including the IV attached to your arm and the sterile, white walls. Your mouth feels dry, and your body is still in a bed that feels so much different than yours at home. 

When you feel someone touching your arm, you turn your head.

“Rossi..?” You see your coworker looking at you with worry in his eyes and tears that are threatening to spill down his cheeks. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe now.”

You don’t know what he’s talking about. Disoriented and confused, your heart starts racing. The beeping from the heart monitor suddenly increases and Rossi quickly scoots forward on the edge of his seat, squeezing your hand and telling you to calm down.   

“What happened?” you ask, your voice shaky and scared. “Why am I here?”

You’re almost afraid to know the answer. 

“You guys were in an accident, in the SUV. It’s okay, you’re okay, and he’s going to be fine…everyone’s alright now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and try to take some time to process things…an accident… in the SUV. Derek was always the one who insisted on driving. 

“Oh my god…how’s Derek?”

There’s a strange look that flashes across Rossi’s face that you can’t quite read before he gives you an uneasy and forced smile, “He’s fine, everyone’s fine. He’s at home.”

“Oh,” you sigh a breath of relief. “So he wasn’t in the accident with me?”

“No…” Rossi’s voice trails off and his tone indicates that there’s something he’s not telling you.

But you don’t dwell on it. Instead, you think to yourself, Morgan’s okay. He’s fine. And I’m… you look down to your own body and see no visible casts or slings. I’m okay. We’re okay. 

What you didn’t see was the worried look in Rossi’s face, or the way he gently excuses himself to go call the doctor as quickly as he can. 

…

A nurse comes into the room after an hour and gives you some more painkillers.   

“How are you feeling?” she asks as she injects them into your IV line. 

“Tired,” you say. “And my head really hurts.”

She nods. “That’s to be expected from the trauma you endured.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

She looks at you, “You were in a car accident.”

“I know, but like- how’d it happen?”

“I’m not entirely sure- your coworkers can probably tell you more.  But I know there was a car chase, and you ended up getting t-boned on the side of your vehicle. You suffered some head trauma, that’s why it’s taken so long for you to wake up. Probably why you’re a little groggy too. But Mr. Alvez received a few minor injuries. I think they’re starting to stitch him up now.” Just as she finishes administering the drugs, her pager goes off. 

“I’m sorry, I have to run. The doctor should be here soon though to check on you.”

Mr. Alvez. The name sounded vaguely familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place it. Instead, you just assume he was the one who ran into your car. The nurse hadn’t mentioned anyone else, either, so you can only assume that you were alone in the SUV.. But why would you be chasing an Unsub alone?

Your thoughts are interrupted when Rossi re-enters the room.  Except, he’s not alone. JJ, along with a middle aged female in a white lab coat and dark scrubs trail behind him.  

JJ offers you a small smile before crossing her arms across her chest and standing in the corner of the room with Rossi. They gaze at you cautiously.  

“Glad to see you’re awake,” the doctor says. “I’m Dr. Hall. You’re very lucky that you weren’t seriously injured considering the severity of the accident.” 

She takes a moment to shine a light in your eye, and then again in your ear. She checks the movement in your arms and legs, which only causes a little discomfort at this point. “I need to ask you a few things, just some standard simple questions.”

You nod slowly in agreement. 

“Can you tell me your full name?”

You nod and tell the doctor. 

“Okay, now your date of birth?”  

Again, you answer. 

“What do you remember before the accident?”

“I'm not sure, but..” you stop, feeling a little confused. “The nurse said it happened during work. That I was chasing someone, I can’t quite remember who.”

“Okay, and what do you do for work?”

“Uh,” you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to concentrate despite your fuzzy mind. “I work for the FBI, I’m an agent for the BAU.”

“Good, and who do you work for?” 

“Aaron Hotchner,” you say. 

But something feels wrong when you look up to see the look on JJ and Rossi’s faces. JJ’s got her hand covering her mouth and she won't quite meet your gaze. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach as you watch Rossi inhale and place a comforting hand on JJ’s back. 

Dr. Hall nods slowly at you. “Okay, we’re gonna do some more tests, if you’re up for it now.”

“What’s wrong?” you looked over to Rossi, hoping that he’ll tell you what’s happening. 

Instead, he avoids your gaze. Dr. Hall is the one to speak. “It looks like there might be some retrograde memory issues going on, but we’ll need to do a quick CT just to be sure.”

“Oh my god,” you say, surprised, but also relieved to have an explanation as to why everything feels so foggy. “How much am I forgetting?”

Finally, Rossi speaks. “Morgan left the BAU three years ago,” he explains somberly. “And Hotch left a little over two years ago.”

Your eyes widen in shock. You feel like your heart might have stopped. 

Three years? You’re forgetting the last three years of your life?

You hear the heart monitor start to beep faster again as you fight to remain calm.  

The doctor puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“No need to panic,” she assures you. “This kind of thing happens, and there’s no way to know for sure what we’re looking at here until we get a CT scan, okay? So let’s not fret yet.”

You nod slowly, but can’t quite manage to look over at JJ and Rossi again. 

“My nurse here is going to take you up to get a scan. We’ll review the results when I get them, okay?”

You just nod, because what else are you going to do?

The nurse from earlier comes in with a chair.  After helping you slip into it, you don’t look back to JJ or Rossi before she wheels you out of the room. 

Turns out, the walk to the scanning room was a long one, and you hated awkward silence. So, you bring up your conversation with the nurse from earlier.

“How’s the guy who hit me doing? You said his injuries were less than mine, right?”

She pauses slightly before speaking. “The guy who hit you was arrested by your team, I think,” she says. 

“Mr. Alvez?” you ask, maybe that’s why his name was familiar.  He was the Unsub you were after.

“Mr. Alvez is getting a cut stitched up, yes. But he’s okay.”

 You frown. “I don’t understand, wasn’t Mr. Alvez the guy who hit me?”

The nurse hesitates even longer this time. “Mr. Alvez was driving your vehicle,” she explains.

“What?” You were dumbfounded and tired of everything being so confusing. 

 “Mr. Alvez was driving your vehicle, the black SUV.”

You fall silent. He must be a member of the team. With Hotch and Morgan gone, like Rossi had mentioned, it was obvious you had acquired some new team members. You can't understand why else this Alvez guy would be in the FBI car. Your head starts to hurt from the chaos.  Rather than ask more questions, you let the awkward silence take you the rest of the way to the scanning room. 

…

When you wake up later that day, you smile to see Penelope and Spencer sitting in chairs across the room. Reid has his nose in a book. Finally a familiar sight. 

“Guys,” you exhale a breath of relief. The heaviness in your chest and the throbbing in your head isn’t so bad anymore. Instead you feel safe…because that’s how Garica and Reid always made you feel. 

Spencer looks up from his book, his face breaking out into a huge grin. “Hey, you’re awake!”

“Oh my gosh,” Garcia stands up and hurries closer towards your bed. 

“You have no idea how happy I am to see those beautiful eyes,” she says.  She gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before sitting down in the chair by your bedside.  

Spencer remains standing and asks, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” your eyes wander towards the profiler and you pause. “Your hair is different,” you observe. “It’s so long.”

Reid and Garcia exchange a quick glance before turning back towards you.  Oh yeah, you thought, the missing three years. 

“Apparently I’ve lost my memory,” you laugh dryly, attempting to joke at the awkward situation. 

“So I heard,” Spencer says uneasily, his lips pressed tightly together. 

“It’s a shame I still remember your face though.” 

That remark seems to bring Spencer’s electrifying smile back. It was even enough to get a small laugh out of him. 

“So, does anyone have the highlights from the past three years?”

The smile that’s been lingering on your lips slightly fades as you realize how much you didn’t know, so much you were missing out on. 

“Who took Hotch’s place?” you ask. 

Garcia jumps in.  “Oh, that’s good news. Emily!”

Your jaw almost drops to the floor. “Emily? Our Emily?”

Garcia nods frantically, her red lips smiling excitedly. “She came back from London to help out when she found out we were down a man, and when Hotch left, they made her Unit Chief.” 

“Wow. That’s incredible, that’s such good news.” 

It’s making your head feel heavy, trying to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of your own life. You continue to play 20 questions with them until there’s a faint knocking sound at your door.  

You turn to see some familiar and some unfamiliar faces entering the room. 

The first you see is Emily. She looks almost exactly the same, which is comforting. Then there’s JJ and Rossi and Tara, who you’re relieved to recognize. But two unfamiliar men walk into the room.  They file towards the back. You try not to focus on them, because it made you uneasy. How could there be two members of your team- that you may have known for as long as three years- that you just don’t recognize? 

You try focusing on the members of your team that you did know instead. It brings you an infinite amount of more comfort.   

“How’re you doing?” Emily asks sympathetically. “We all couldn’t wait to check up on you.”

“I’m okay,” you tell her nodding, even though everyone in that room knew it was far from the truth.

“Have you gotten your CT scan results back yet?” JJ wonders.

You shake your head. “Not yet, the nurse said the doctor would be in soon, though. I guess he was finishing up a surgery.”

You can’t help but glance towards the back of the room towards the unfamiliar members of your team after a few moments. One is standing with his arms crossed, but a similarly sympathetic smile on his face as the rest of your team was wearing. But the other, with dark, curly hair and tanned skin, is staring down at the ground. He won’t meet your gaze. He has a bandage on the left side of his forehead that he keeps itching at. 

Why can't you place him?

It’s awkward and uncomfortable with the team. Something that makes you feel very uneasy, because that’s not how you remember things being at the BAU. This is your family, so why can't you wait for them to leave?

After exchanging pleasantries and promises to visit soon, the majority of the team finally started to file out of your room. 

You wave goodbye to them as they left, realizing that no one introduced you to the two unfamiliar men. You assume that they didn’t want to overwhelm you. But as soon as it was just you, Spencer, and Garcia again, you let your curiosity peak.

“Okay, who were those two guys, in the back there?” you point to where they were standing. 

“That was Matt Simmons and Luke Alvez,” Spencer explains nervously. “They’re part of the team. 

“Alvez!” you remember the name from earlier. “The nurse told me he was driving- Was he the one with the bandage?”

Spencer and Garcia exchange another nervous glance, as if they’ve been waiting for this question all along. But you can read their faces like a book, and you see the way their faces fall.

They both nod slowly. 

“Yeah.” Spencer nods. “Yeah, that was Luke. And you’re right, he was driving the SUV.” 

“Who is he?” There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that you can’t quite place.

“He took over for Morgan when he left. So he joined the team a little under three years ago.” Reid explains cautiously. 

But Garcia gives a strange look, like there was something they knew that you didn’t.  

“What is it?” you ask them. You can't stand the fact that you don't know half of what was going on. 

Penelope sighs and when she speaks her voice is shaky.

“He- he is a member of the team,” she explains. “But you've also been dating him for the past two years.”

…

Luke’s gripping at his hair harshly as he paces through the halls of the hospital.  

“She has no clue-” he exclaims frustratedly. "No clue who I am.”

The truth is that he had been overly anxious to get to your room ever since arriving at the hospital. He pleaded with the doctor who was stitching up his forehead to hurry up. He needed to make sure you were okay.  

Even when a somber-looking Rossi had entered his room earlier in the day and told him you were experiencing some memory loss, he still felt like he needed to see you.  

“She didn’t remember that Emily took over for Hotch,” JJ explained to the team, all huddled in Luke’s room. “Or anything after Morgan left.” Her gaze wanders towards Luke. 

“Meaning she doesn’t remember me?” Luke had asked, wincing as the nurse continued to stitch up his wound from the accident. 

JJ bit her lip before looking to Rossi to answer his question. 

“We don’t think so,” Rossi declared. 

Luke had nodded slowly. “But we don’t know for sure? I mean they haven’t done any tests or anything?”

“They’re doing a CT scan now, I guess to see what’s really going on,” JJ had folded her arms across her chest tightly. 

Luke nodded, his hopes not faltering. He’d be what made her remember everything. One look- and all the memories would come back. Because their love wasn’t something you could just forget.  

“Just give her space, okay?” Rossi urged, he was the only thing blocking Luke from bursting through your door. “Try not to overwhelm her.”

“Yeah, okay,” Luke said without realizing what he was even promising. Because he knew that as soon as you saw him, this whole nightmare would be behind them.  

But when he did finally walk through the door to your room and your eyes didn’t immediately light up, Luke’s hopes started to quickly fall. 

In fact, you didn’t look at him at all. He bit his lip, trying not to give way to the fact that his entire world was coming crashing down around him while you told Emily that you were feeling okay. He found a spot on the floor to focus on, a single piece of dirt, or something, from somebody’s shoes remained the focal point of his gaze throughout the entire visit.  

What he wanted to do was charge your bed- wrap his arms around you and tell you how much he loved you. He wanted to say he was sorry for not avoiding the Unsub’s car- wanted to apologize over and over again until he was blue in the face. But he couldn’t do that.  Because you had no idea who he was. 

It isn't until he's out of your room and back in the hallway that he realizes he’s been holding his breath. Luke exhales sharply, panic setting in. 

Emily tries to calm him down by saying, “She might get all those memories back, Luke.”

“But she might not,” he admits, pulling even harder at the strands of his hair. 

“We don’t know that yet,” Tara reassures him.  “Oftentimes, amnesia after an accident is only temporary.”

“Okay,” he says, “Okay, but what if she doesn’t? What if I’m a stranger to her?”

Rossi steps forward this time, and grabs Luke by the shoulders. He has a stern look on his face while he lectures Luke. “Then we deal with it then,” he says. “But until then, you have to be strong for her, okay? Because she’s scared and she’s confused and she needs you to be strong.”

Luke nods as he slowly starts to come down from his panicked state.  He takes a couple of deep breaths. “Okay,” he agrees.  

…

The sun is shining outside and the little rays that escape through the blinds on the window illuminate your room when you hear the door rattle.

The door opens a second later and Garcia peeks her head in. “Hi, you’re awake!” She doesn’t open the door all the way, which makes you look questioningly at her. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

She looks at you hesitantly. “You have some people to introduce you to. If you’re up for it.” She says it like a question, and you want to say no, but there’s something about the way Garcia looks, her normally bright, vibrant self looking dull and tired, that makes you agree. 

You wonder if talking to Luke and Matt will help trigger your memory. So you give Garcia a little nod, who looks at you smiling before opening the door all the way to reveal the two men who are waiting in the hall.

Matt walks in first. He’s got a sharp jaw that’s clean shaven and a tattoo poking out from the sleeve of his T-shirt. His hands are tucked into a pair of jeans that look slightly worn. There’s warmth in his dark eyes, and a comforting smile on his face as he looks at you.

The guy that comes in behind him is Luke. He has a head of thick, curly hair, and a pair of brown eyes that pop. He’s wearing a dark maroon shirt that clings to his biceps and makes his tanned skin look even darker. There’s something sad about the way his face is mixed with both exhaustion and sorrow. He looks like he needs a good night of sleep. 

“Hey,” Matt speaks first, and you can’t help but mirror the smile that’s greeting him. “I’m Matt.”

You look at both of them intently, trying to feel something, anything…but it only makes your head feel foggier.  

“I guess this is probably pretty weird for you guys, huh?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood. “Introducing yourself to someone you already know.”

Luke offers you the slightest smile, but it’s laced with dejection. 

“I’m sorry…” your face drops and Luke’s body goes tense. “I can’t remember you guys.” You look down at your hands because you can’t stand to look at them. You hate the disappointment you’ve caused on their faces.

“It’s okay, you’ve been through a lot, I’m sure it’ll come back to you eventually.” You look up to see it's Luke speaking for the first time. He’s got a warm, reassuring smile replacing the old disgruntled look and it instantly lifts your spirits. For a moment, you find yourself thinking, yeah, I can see why I had you in my life.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence for a moment, and you realize that you’re not entirely sure what to say. 

You want to be polite, and you want to give them both a chance, because at one point you obviously knew them well.

But when you look at them, you don’t see your team members. You don’t see your boyfriend. You just see strangers. 

… 

Dr. Hall comes in that evening to discuss your CT scan. You’re relieved that it’s only you and Emily in the room at the time that she arrives. 

“See that area there?” she asks, pointing to a mark on the screen she was showing you. “That indicates damage to the hippocampus.  That’s the primary memory storage site of your brain, so it’s no wonder why you’re experiencing what we call retrograde amnesia.”

The words she speak sound foreign, and while you did everything you could to understand, all you cared about was one thing.

“Will I get my memories back?” you ask. 

Dr. Hall scooted back in her chair and took off her black rimmed glasses. “Some people do,” she nods. “But some don’t. The good news is that the damage to your hippocampus is relatively minor. So much so that we missed it in our original MRI scan.”

You nod slowly. “So there’s a chance then?”

“There’s a chance. But even if it doesn't, the chunk that you’re missing is relatively small in the grand scheme of things. So even if you don’t get your old memories back, you do have the ability to create new ones.”

…

“Do me and Luke live together?” you ask Penelope in the car. You had been released from the hospital that day and the question popped into your head suddenly while you were on your way home. 

She nods, her grip tight on the steering wheel. “Yes, but he’s going to stay with Rossi for now. He didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You sigh a breath of relief. 

Garcia gently pushes the door open to your house that you don’t recognize. You take a deep breath to prepare yourself for what you’re about to see. You’re uneasy, but there’s an odd sense of familiarity that settles in your stomach despite not knowing what to expect.

The entrance opens up to an open living room where the gray curtains are drawn open, the light coming in from the windows shined bright against the furniture. 

There are shoes lined up neatly next to the door. A few pairs of sneakers lie next to a pair of giant boots that you know must be Luke’s. 

You recognize some of the furniture. Like the rocking chair your mother gave you, and the homemade blanket. The more you recognize, the more at ease you felt.   

The warmth only spread when you walked over to the coffee table to find a copy of your favorite book left out. 

That’s when you notice that there are so many photos. Some hang on the walls and some are in frames placed around the shelves and tables.

One in particular captures your attention, and as you draw nearer, you feel like the wind has been knocked out of your lungs. It’s a picture of you and Luke, he has his arm around you and is wearing a huge, ear-to-ear grin as he stares into the camera lens. You, on the other hand, are looking up at him, a similar smile on your face. 

You steady yourself against the wall, but suddenly feel like you’re having an out of body experience, your surroundings blurring out and Luke’s voice ringing in your head.

“I’m not gonna drop your phone, don’t worry-”

“Just do a selfie, that isn’t going to hold my phone, it’s going to fall!”

“This will look so much better than a selfie, trust me! Look, steady as ever, this branch is coming through for us-”

“Looks more like a twig to me-” 

You’re squeezing your eyes shut but all you can see is Luke rushing towards you to beat the self timer on your phone, his smile wide.

Your eyes snapped open as Garcia entered the living room to announce, “I put your suitcase upstairs- what’s wrong?” she asks when she sees your frazzled state. 

“Nothing,” you lie. You don't want to get her hopes up by telling her you think you just remembered something, so instead you say, “Just tired.”

“Oh, okay. Well let me get out of your hair then, so that you can rest.”

You nod, but all you can think of is getting your hands on some more photos. 

After wandering upstairs, you seem to know just where to look to find a photo album stashed away. You open the binder to find countless pictures. You flip through them eagerly, until one a few pages deep catches your eye. 

It’s another photo of you and Luke- this time you’re both looking into the camera. He has his arm around your shoulder and you’re pulling yourself into his side, your arm stretched across his stomach. Your head is resting comfortably on his chest and the closer you look, you realize that there’s tears in your eyes. 

Suddenly, Luke’s voice pops back into your head. 

“I wouldn’t have asked you out if I knew it was going to make you this upset-”

“I’m not upset, I’m- so.. so happy.”

“Happy. As in, yes, you’ll go out with me?”

“Of course I will.”

It’s like the floodgates open and suddenly, an influx of memories and information come pouring into your mind. You feel dizzy as you sort through them, wondering if any of this could be real.  

When you look back down at the photos beneath you, your eyes narrow in on Luke.   

You can’t help the sudden rush of tears that come streaming down your face when you realize that Luke’s no longer a stranger.  

…

You take a deep breath, trying to gather courage before pressing the call button on your phone. It seems strange to you that just a few hours prior, you didn’t even feel comfortable having small talk with Luke, but now, with your memories coming back, he was the first person you wanted to tell.  

The phone rings once before his warm, now familiar, voice answers on the other line. 

“Hey,” he greets. 

You exhale sharply before whispering a soft, “Hi.”

“Is everything okay?” he asks, concern evident in his tone. 

You nod, before realizing he can’t see you. “Yeah,” you say through the tears streaming down your face. “Yeah, can you- can you come home?”

After a brief moment of silence you add, “Please.”

You hear stirring on the other line, like Luke was moving around. 

“Y-yeah,” he stammers. “Yeah, I’ll be there in 10.”

After you hang up the phone, you continue flipping through photos as you wait for Luke. The memories come back to you faster and faster. It’s a relief, but it’s also exhausting.  

Only when you hear the front door of your house open and close do you tear yourself away from the photos. You shut the book and hastily run downstairs, eager to see Luke.  

The Luke you see in your memories and pictures around the house is different than the one standing in front of you now. The Luke you now remember has skin the color of caramel and eyes so warm the sun would be jealous. But this Luke looks flushed and exhausted, with dark circles encasing his eyes.

“Luke..” you say softly, your voice coming out in a whisper, as if saying his name would take all your memories away again.

He looks frazzled and worried, but you make your way to him slowly. 

“What’s wrong?” he frets, looking at you wildly.

You feel bad to have worried him into such a state. “Nothing-” you manage to get out. “I-I-” You’re so taken aback by just knowing who he is, that it’s hard to speak. 

But Luke’s face softens, and when he comes to the conclusion that you must have called him over here for another reason, his eyes widen. “Do you- are you remembering things?” 

Your face breaks out into a large, relieved smile, despite the tears still falling down your cheeks. You’re afraid that if you speak, you might just sob forever, so instead you nod frantically. 

“Oh my god,” Luke gasps before crossing the room in just two, large strides. He wastes no time before wrapping his arms around your body tightly. He lifts your feet off the ground, his face getting buried in the nape of your neck while he spins you around. “Oh my god,” he repeats, followed by a little chuckle. 

You breath in his comforting scent, wondering how you went so long without craving his touch. 

“I remember-” you choke out. “I remember now.”

Luke lifts both of his hands and cups your face, and you can see tears in Luke’s eyes. “God, I’m so sorry,” he tells you. “I’m so sorry I let you get hurt.”

But you’re shaking your head. “It’s not your fault, Luke.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his lips pressed tightly together like he’s trying to find his own words. 

“I thought I’d lost you,” he finally says. “First when you were unconscious at the scene, but again when you didn’t know who I was.” He takes a slow, unsteady breath. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever remember.”

He leans his forehead to rest against yours, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheek, it grazes the corner of your mouth before he leans down, wanting nothing more than to press his lips against yours, to remind you about what the two of you had together. 

When he finally pulls away, you’re breathless and wide-eyed. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he whispers. 

You nod and ignore all the thoughts and fears that are racing through your mind, and instead close the gap between you and Luke once again.

Luke tastes like mint and coffee, he smells like citrus, and he’s warm like a hot, summer day.

Luke feels like home. 

[natti-ice]

[blac-ivy]

One thing golden era Wattpad writers had going for them was that they knew the importance of a buildup. I'm of the opinion that the sexual tension is WAY more satisfying to read than the actual sex and quite frankly there is a serious lack of non smutty writing.

Like I really miss reading fics/ x readers that start from scratch. Meeting the characters, initial reactions getting to know them, the tension the jealousy the TENSION the freaking tension.

Looking and looking away when they get spotted, touches that feel like they linger but perhaps they didn't and they're both so hot for each other that they think it's wishful thinking. And I don't mean just sweet sunshine romances, darker works can have a buildup too but it seems like so much is just about getting to the smut instead of the psychological aspect.

Bring back the build up!!!!!!!

[alana-reid-2005]

we all joke about and objectify this man, but do we stop to think how sad his story is? he grew up friendless and ruthlessly bullied for being a literal genius. constantly picked on by his coworkers, and he’s never in on the joke. he’s always being laughed at, never laughed with because no one understands his existentialist humor. he never has plans or places to go on the weekend after work. he goes to work then goes to his lonely home with all his books to keep him company. on occasion, he haunts the chess table at the park or meets with an old professor. no one takes the time to appreciate his weird little quirks. no one took the time to ask him if he was okay after the several traumatic incidents he endured. no one takes care of him because everyone’s too busy leaving. he could be a male model, yet he’s never thought of himself as attractive. when he does find love, he’s brutally stripped of it before he can blink. spencer reid, the lonely genius who learned of love too late and loss too soon.

[spencerrreiddd]

Three, Two, One. - Chapter 1

Summary: You and Spencer have worked in the BAU together for years, since the beginning but now, he's your boss and something quite big is happening in your life & soon to be Spencer's life after needing each others help to unwind.

Pairing: UnitChief!Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: Pregnancy, Angst, Cheating??

A/N: LOW & BEHOLD- here lays my first beauty. - my apologies is this is complete shit, I have not written in a while & I may have to get my special touch back. - anyways, i hope you guys like it ! 🔪🤍

Three, Two, One. Chaper 2.

three, two, one-

pregnant.

You were pregnant. You were pregnant with your bosses baby.

Spencer has not always been your boss, you actually started working for the BAU a month before he had even started working there.

He took over Emily's position once she moved up to FBI Director a few months back, at that congratulations party is when something sparked between you and Spencer- just, neither of you acted on it

You remember exactly how and when it happened too, it was the party after his promotion to Unit Chief. Goddamn promotion parties. You didn’t think you drank that much, until you woke up naked beside your new boss.

The temptation to pack a bag and hop on a flight across the world sounded so appetizing right now in your mind, too bad that it isn't realistic & you were going to have to face the facts and that was including, him.

There was never any “no speaking of this” - only us meeting up at my apartment, his apartment, our hotel rooms when we were on a case and needed to ‘unwind’ - the last time you and Spence had even slept together was 2-3 weeks ago anyway, of course when y'all needed to unwind after a case. Who could've guessed that one?

You were snatched from your thoughts when you heard your phone ringing from your bedroom- running for it, you were hoping that it wasn't Spencer.

‘Penelope Garcia 🖥️💖🍩’ 'thank the heavens' you silently think to yourself

“What’s up, Penny”

“Spencer is busy, he put me on duty to call you to find out if you plan to show your face at work today, ya know- since it is a work day and no show, no calls are frowned upon here" Your neck snaps to look at your alarm clock.

"Also, he wants to see you in his office once you get here"

7:32 A.M - have I seriously been staring at a positive pregnancy test for an entire hour?

“Fuck. See you soon. I'm leaving right now"

The short drive to work felt longer than it should have, probably because you took back roads to avoid having to see him again so soon. If you were already running late, what is a few extra minutes?

So many thoughts flying through your mind. How are you going to tell him? Oh hey, by the way, ya knocked me up so what’s the plan bud?!

“I'm doomed" You mutter to yourself getting out of your vehicle to go face reality, to go face the man of your now growing child. This has to be a nightmare.

Getting off of the elevator, the first person you saw was Alvez- boy, you were thankful that it wasn't Spencer, even though you'd be seeing him in just a few minutes.

"Looks like you saw a ghost"

"Yeah, Luke, something like that"

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not right now, I just want to forget about it- I need to see Pen" yeah, Y/N, like you'll actually be able to forget about it.

You make a beeline directly for Penelope's office, you have to tell someone about this before you actually lose your mind.

"Pen, I have news and it has to stay between you and I only"

"Your secret is safe with me, my love"

"I'm pregnant.. with Spencer's baby" you hesitated even saying the last part but wow, that felt good to get off of your chest, too bad it won't feel this easy with Spencer. Just thinking of having to tell him has you feeling like someone is choking you out.

"Oh."

"Oh? Pen, I am in a state of panic, a state of shock and you say 'Oh'- I don't know what to even begin to do here or how to even tell Reid that I am carrying his.. spawn"

"Spencer has a girlfriend or did, as far as I kn- okay, when did you find out” She cuts herself after seeing the look of horror on your face after hearing the beginning of her sentence, understandably so!

You were NOT the type of person to sleep with a taken man.

You were confident that you were about to face plant the ground right here and now in Penelope’s office. Did Spencer have a girlfriend or not? And were you about to go physically fight him for doing this to her, if so? You would be considering yourself jobless at that point.

“I found out this morning, literal minutes before you called me to get my ass here” you were in a pure state of panic and you had many good reasons as to why.

“How long has he had a girlfriend, Pen?” you continued- you were sure your skin was blistering with how hot it was at this point. Was it hot out of anger or the panic attack that was charging at you? Who knows anymore because you didn’t care enough in this single second to sit and determine that.

"I don't know, he just mentioned a date a few weeks ago then didn't mention anything again but I know he's still in communication with her and by the contact name in his phone, I don't think they are just friends" Penelope lets you in on all of this, nervously- like she isn't supposed to be saying anything at all.

"Thanks, Pen" You murmur to her her as you leave, you have to leave her office, the longer you are in there, the more it feels like the walls are literally closing in on you.

Walking into the hallway, you don't know which direction to go- You should probably go see Spencer and give him some bullshit excuse as to why you were late.

It was barely 8 A.M, maybe it was past 8 A.M now- your mind is going too fast to try and keep up with time. Regardless, it's too early in the morning to drop a pregnancy announcement on someone.

Finally, you muster up the courage to walk into the bullpen to go on the hunt for Spencer, as much as your mind and body are telling you to just bolt to your car and never look back.

"Tara, do you know where Spencer is?" You ask quietly, so that you don't disturb the others around you

"No, I saw him walk out of his office a few minutes ago but I haven't seen him go back in. If you find him before me, let me know because I need to go over some things with him"

"I'll go knock and see if he's back, thanks Tara"

You can visibly see his blinds are closed but majority of the time they are closed anyways, so that doesn't even matter to you. Walking up the flight of stairs to get to his office is exhausting, it feels like your legs weigh 1000 pounds each.

Standing in front of his office, you hear talking inside- You can very clearly hear a females voice inside talking to him but you honestly couldn't tell if she was over the phone or actually in his office by how muffled it is, it's safe to assume that it is a phone call.

"No going back now since you're already here" You mumble to yourself

Knock, knock, knock

"Come in" You hear a muffled Spencer behind the door

As your opening the door, you quickly hear him state to the woman on the phone 'I have to go, I'll see you tonight' - God, as if you haven't already wanted to run away all morning, it keeps getting worse.

"Pen said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, please sit" He says, gesturing to the chair

"Are you okay, Y/N? - You were late this morning, we've worked together for many years now and you've never once ran late, it's not like you not to communicate" You can see on his face that he cares, he didn't bring you in here to give you a lecture over something small, especially since this is your first time ever running late.

"Y-yes, I just woke up late and then getting to my car, I realized I had a flat, so I had to ask my neighbor to use his pump to fill it" You lied straight through your pearly white teeth and you were confident that he knew it to, just by the look he was giving you

He stares at you for a moment, trying to read you for anything. You were thankful for the fact that sometimes you were an impossible person to read

"Please, just communicate next time- It's not a big deal you were late, we just didn't know what was going on until I had Garcia get a hold of you"

"I will, you have my word- Am I good to go now?" You ask while standing up, yes, the talk went better than expected but you still wanted out of this office as fast as possible.

"Yes, thank you for coming to talk to me. Oh, also before I forget to mention it, at some point today whenever we both have free time, I would like to have a conversation. If it's just at the end of the day that's fine. It just needs to happen"

All you can bring yourself to do is nod your head and walk out of the room, based on the ass end of the phone call you walked in on- You have a pretty good hunch what he will be saying to you, especially after what Garcia also let you in on

It makes your heart ache- knowing that he could have a girlfriend, knowing this thing that the two of you had will be coming to an end, by no means were you and Spencer in a committed relationship but you would be lying to yourself, if you said you hadn't gained feelings for him and actually wanted more than just a 'fuck buddy' outcome

"So, is he up in the office? I really need to see him" Tara asks while already walking up there and away from you before you can even give her an answer.

You know for a fact that you are not going to be able to focus on work at all today even if you try your hardest, your anxiety is skyrocketing through the roof waiting for this conversation with Spencer and still, wondering when and how you are going to spill the beans about carrying his growing child.

"Alright, what is your issue? Are you pregnant?" Alvez is like a brother to you, nothing has been off limits in the talking department but this just sent you for a whole loop with how bluntly he asked.

You were confident that if it were possible, your eyes would've popped right out of their sockets and into your lap.

"Alvez, I am not discussing this with you right now" you whisper yelled to him, you didn't mean to come off like a bitch at all but god only knows who could've heard him.

"Well, Y/N, If I am being entirely honest. Penelope lets some things slip from time to time" He states like it's the most obvious thing ever.

All you can seem to do is look at him like a dear in the headlights, you feel your skin getting hot and prickly, it feels like there are someones hands around your throat squeezing harder and harder by the second.

"I have to go, I need to go home, I need air" It all comes out in a panic, you get up from your desk and bolt out of the bullpen and down the stairs, you don't even care to take the elevator. You cannot be stuck in a tight spot right now, a tight spot like an elevator.

"Please, just communicate" - "I will, you have my word" the conversation in Spencer's office goes through your mind and you know that you have to communicate with him that you just left work for the day and you don't plan to come back today, atleast- you couldn't and thankfully, it was Friday.

to: Spencer 'The Genius' Reid

'I have to excuse myself for the day, I'm sorry that I am having to send you a text message about this rather than coming to your office- this is me communicating with you. I will return back to my work duties on Monday, unless of course, a case pops up over the weekend then I will be here'

'also, I know we need to have a conversation, I also have something I need to tell you- let me know when you would like this conversation to take place' -

After sending your texts to Spencer, you set your phone on DND because at this point, you don't want to deal with anything or anyone else today, emergency or not.

Driving home was an entire blur, I mean you made it home alive, so that's what matters, I guess.

Walking inside, you plop onto the couch and turn on your favorite comfort show.. Modern Family.

A few hours later, you wake up in the exact place you laid down at- you thought your couch was so comfy until now when your entire body is in pain.. well, maybe it was your horrible sleeping position.

5:13 P.M -

"sweet baby jesus on a motorbike" You mutter to yourself after looking at the clock

"what are you doing to me?" You ask while poking your non-existent baby bump, granted it was a great sleep so you weren't trying to complain- you had heard from JJ in the past that early pregnancy is exhausting and you will sleep.. ALOT.

**BACK AT THE BAU**

"I just practically asked her if it was true but maybe in a more blunt way, it wasn't meant to come out so.. blunt" Alvez explains to Penelope who apparently watched you sprint out of work.

"I specifically told you not to say anything to her about it, I didn't even mean to let it slip to you of all people, Luke. I don't even think that they were in a relationship which makes this so much more difficult for her, as I could imagine" Pen snaps back at Luke.

"It's not going past me, I'm not opening my mouth to anyone about it" Luke says while walking to the Elevator with Pen, finally the work day was over

"Yeah, you let it slip to someone or who knows, I accidentally do again and Spencer is going to find out which right now, that doesn't need to happen" Pen states while being wildly unaware of who just came up behind them

"What doesn't Spencer need to find out right now and why can't he find out right now?" He asks from directly behind Alvez and Garcia, looking between the two of them for a answer.

Luke and Penelope both seem to jump straight out of their skin, not expecting to be crept up on- in reality, it was not Spencer's plan to creep up on them, he just happened to be leaving at the exact time as them and they didn't hear him coming up in the middle of their 'supposed to be' private conversation that was happening out in the open.

"I- uh it's nothing, well, sir, it's nothing in regards to me, i'm fine- it's not my place to tell you, it wasn't my place to tell, Luke- it just slipped and I am blabbering and I just realized that I need to get home" Before Spencer or Luke could say anything to her or anything more to Spencer, she's in the elevator with the doors closing.

'Nice Penelope, real nice' Luke thinks to himself, feeling a bit annoyed and slightly scared

Turning to look behind him, he sees Spencer's eyes boring right into him like he's staring right into Luke's soul, just waiting and searching for answers.

"Is there anything that you know, Alvez?" Spencer finally breaks the silence, otherwise who knows how long the two of them would've stayed standing there in the awkward paralyzing silence.

"I just know Y/N had to leave early today because, well I don't know why but I just know she left- you're her boss too, she should've communicated with you, right?"

"Right, Luke and she did, I have been trying to text and call her since I received her messages and nothing is going through" Reid is quick to bite back, getting quite annoyed himself being left in the dark and now that he is adding the pieces together, he's assuming these secretive things that "he isn't allowed to know about currently" are about you.

"I don't have any other information, what I told you is all I know- but I do need to get home to Roxy" Luke matter-of-factly states even though Luke knows that Luke is lying, well- not about Roxy but about the first part.

"Mhm, alright. Have a good night, Luke" Spencer gave up on trying to get any information out of the turnips that don't bleed but he is confident when he says this is about you and he will get to the bottom of it.

Back at your apartment, you've finally relaxed after a nice hot shower and ordering from your favorite chinese food joint and yes, still watching your comfort show but this time from the comfort of your own bed.

You still haven't even taken your phone off of DND mode, in your mind all you thought was 'if it is important enough, you know where I live and if you don't, contact Penelope Garcia' and the most important part, you were at peace.

You weren't worried about this pregnancy, you had accepted your fate, you weren't worried about Spencer or his new situ-relationship, you weren't even worried about what had happened with Alvez or Garcia. Peace.

"jesus Spencer, what the fuck" You yell out after walking out of the room and coming face to face with him, to say that you were startled was to say the absolute least

"Well, you would've known I was coming if someone didn't have their phone on airplane mode" He bit back with a darkness in his eyes and maybe a bit of worrisome, you couldn't tell everything with how dark it was.

"I know that I gave people a key to my house for emergencies but our conversation or how I was protecting my peace on a Friday night is not an emergency and frankly, if anyone was that worried, you would've sent someone sooner" You were once again fed up and wanted to continue to be alone with your favorite person, Phil Dunphy.

"I was going to drop our conversation until this weekend or even Monday, when we see each other in person again but funny enough, I was walking out to leave for the day when I walked into Luke's and Penelope's conversation and it was about you and something that I shouldn't be finding out about right now- would you happen to know anything about that?" Spencer replied, getting more and more fed up by the second.

If Spencer didn't know any better, he would say that you looked like you just saw a ghost- he was dead on the money about the conversation and some secret rooting back to you- now to just get it out of you.

Calming down after seeing the state you were rushing into, he comes to you with a softer approach - "Y/N, I want to help you. We've known each other for years, since I started working for the BAU, please let me know. Let me know what is going on. I'm not going anywhere"

You felt like you were about to up-chuck your chinese food all over this poor man, you know you need to tell him.

'Y/N you will never know the outcome of this unless you open your mouth and spill those words to him, be brave, be bold' You think silently to yourself.

"Spencer, I'm pregnant - You are the last person I slept with. I am pregnant with your baby"

if this is horrible, sue me - i haven't written in forever and honestly, this is a little bit longer than i thought it would be - whoops!

FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED

& yeah, yeah- i left this on a cliffhanger, if you beautiful humans actually like this, i had planned to make this a 2 parter story or who knows, if i make the next part longer then it could be 3 or more parts.

[brainisrotted]

guys, fanfiction isn't enough anymore, i need to be IN criminal minds.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝙎𝙄𝙓: Spit-Roasting w/ Spencer Reid [ft. Luke Alvez]

a/n: y'all this one actually FLABBERGASTED me... my mind will never fail to surprise me, and if i'm going to be honest, i listened to metal/heavy metal music the whole time and it helped me to stay focused for the actual hour it took me to write this 😭

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

A perfect sandwich is what you’d like to call this.

Cradled between the bodies of two of the hottest Agents of your team is a sure fire way to spend your night, and you’re more than pleased.

Spencer’s lying below you, your knees settled on either side of his hips as your lips are met in a heated embrace. You’re as naked as the day you were born and he is too, his hardness barely poking at your full stomach.

You’re bent over him with Luke behind you, a heavy hand pressing down your lower back as he works you open with two big fingers. You’re moaning helplessly into the genius’ mouth, your nails digging into the pillows besides his head.

“Luke!” You pull away with a breathless moan, throwing back your head at particularly hard drag to your g-spot. “‘Feel good, sweetheart?” You can hear the cocky lilt to his voice, his nice, full lips no doubtedly pulled up into that familiar, cheeky smirk.

“Fuck – you’re such an asshole.” You swear and he just chuckles. “Yeah, yeah, say that to me when I’m not knuckle deep inside you, ‘kay?”

You grumble, but nevertheless reconnect your lips with Spencer’s who are pulled taunt in an attempt to hide his amusement. “Don’t –” You choke when Luke begins to draw circles tightly on your clit.

“Don’t encourage him.” Your words trail off in a whine.

“Sorry, baby.” Spencer says, but he doesn’t even sound all that sorry, but you’ll make him. You prop yourself on your right forearm while the other one trails down to grasp at his long cock, up stroking him just to hear that pleasurable sound of the air getting punched out of him.

“Shit!” He swears, his own neck extending back, and you connect your lips to the tanned skin there, nibbling relentlessly.

“So much for no marks, huh?” Luke pokes from behind you. “Don’t act like you didn’t get your turn.” You mumble just loud enough for him to hear.

You make sure that Spencer’s skin is painted red by the time you pull away, your strokes matching each time you roll the delicate skin between your teeth.

“Stop, stop. Not gonna last long.” He removes your hand, and you huff.

“Get back here then, Spence.” Luke sounds. “She’s had a real smart mouth all night, might have to put it to good use, don’t you think?”

Spencer raises a brow at his dominance but agrees, “Alright.”

Your skin heats at the implications of his words, and you’re dragged by your hips, Luke rearranging you so that he can step in front of you. You squeak and your knees burn at the sheets rubbing them, but it makes you shiver.

They settle into their respective places, Spencer’s lithe, long fingers holding your waist deeply contrast the roughness that is Luke Alvez.

Your eyes rest on Luke’s large cock bobbing in front of you, and you raise a brow. “Why hello, big boy.” You murmur with a small smirk. Your eyes flutter upwards to meet his, and he’s looking at you expectantly.

It’s clear you’ve gotten on his nerves, and you can’t help the feeling of sick satisfaction that spreads throughout you. Normally, Luke’s gentle during your encounters together, two men softly worship your body.

But not tonight. Nay, tonight, you wanted it rough, you wanted it mean, you wanted it hard.

“You’re no fun.” You pout but, open your mouth to engulf it over his precum covered tip, digging your tongue into the slit of it. He grunts, large fingers winding themselves through your hair to anchor you to him.

Spencer caresses the skin of your waist all the way down the sides of your thighs before trialing up to spread your ass, watching as his long cock sinks into you.

“God,” He groans, “You feel perfect.” His head is bowed downwards a bit, his eyes screwed shut.

You’re no better, now feverishly licking at the pulsing skin of Luke’s dick, taking him down as far as you can – which sadly isn’t very far considering the sheer girth of the man – but you pick up where you lack by jerking him off.

Luke hisses, eyes practically boring into where your mouth connects to him, and he gives an experimental rock of his hips. You choke for a moment, and you pull off of him, understanding what he needs.

“Fuck my throat please.” It’s a needy mewl, and you retake him into your throat, sinking, sinking, sinking, waiting for him to catch up. “You already know what to do if it’s too much.” You just hum, gripping him by his muscular thighs.

Spencer begins to set a pace, and every time he pulls out, so does Luke, until they’re met up in perfect harmony with one another, using your body as they please. You’re moaning, and the noises that are leaving the three of you are downright sinful. If this was a porno, you’re sure you would make millions.

Tears burn in your eyes and spit foams at the corner of your mouth, but that doesn’t stop you from relaxing your throat to take in more of him. Spencer keeps hitting your g-spot with coordinated ease. He pretty much knows your body like the back of his hand.

You feel the coiling of your gut signaling your end, and your walls flutter around the older male behind you. Your breathing stutters and your nails dig into Luke’s thighs.

He’s pulsing in your mouth, and Spencer’s hips are stuttering, growing less deliberate and uncontrolled as he begins to grind into you. You disconnect from Luke’s cock, your chest heaving. A dribble of spit draws a bridge from your lips to his tip.

“‘M close, fuck, ‘m so close.” You cry out, and your head falls forward to land on the man’s firm stomach. Spencer begins thrusting into you faster.

“I got you, sweet girl. Just a little more.”

You’re jerking Luke off as fast as you can, and your wrist burns, but you pay it no mind as you lean up.

Luke is groaning something guttural, feral, and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head.

“Cum on my face. Please… I need it.”

“Anything you want.” Is his grunted response.

The three of you are frantic in your movements, desperate to meet your ends.

Luke comes first, cum shooting out and hitting your lips and chin, as well as your eyelashes as he trembles and shakes, the hand on your head holding a death grip of your scalp.

Spencer’s next to follow, and a hand finds itself between the two of you to find your swollen clit, and rubbing, rubbing, rubbing, until you gush all over him with a loud cry that could practically be considered a scream.

It’s silent for a moment and you fall forward, chest heaving and finding solace in the cool feelings of the sheet contrasting with what of Luke’s skin.

“Everyone alright?” Luke is the first to ask.

“Just peachy.” You hum, wiggling to get comfortable as Spencer pulls out of you.

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[forhappysake]

Never Forget a Face

A/N - Why is titling fics so hard? I used a Hunger Games quote because it fit so well so lmk if you can pick it out. Nearly 5K words, not proofread.

Summary - After the end of a bloody case, Emily tasks a begrudging Spencer with checking in on the newbie. Warnings - Spencer x fem!reader, typical BAU-level violence, murder, kn!ves, season 12/13 spoilers, extensive handwashing (?), a bitter post-prison reid with a grumpy x sunshine plot

My hands are stained red.

That was your first coherent thought as you stared in the bathroom mirror. The fluorescent lighting cast a pale glow over your face, making you look more ghostly than you already did. Your once blue shirt was covered in splotches. Your hands, dangling over the sink, were the color of burnt rust. 

As you turned on the faucet and applied soap to your hands, your brain replayed the events that brought you here. 

This was only your second case with the team. Hell, it was only your fourth case with the bureau. All you wanted to do was fit in. You’d heard great things about the BAU: the highly decorated Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, the face of the FBI - Jennifer Jareau, and the sought-after genius of Dr. Spencer Reid. 

The first case with the BAU had gone well. You’d done a lot of the grunt work, putting in an intense number of hours in a dingy police precinct pouring over paperwork with Dr. Reid, who kept telling you to call him Spencer. Despite this faux friendliness, you couldn’t help but get the feeling he was tired of working with you. 

Not that you could blame him. You were, by all definitions, a newbie. He had over a decade of experience and a serious reputation. A genius to boot, his sighs and looks often made you feel like you were in his way more than you were actually helping. Hence why, when Emily had asked for two volunteers to tail a suspect for the day, you’d quickly volunteered to go with the charming Luke Alvez. 

Six hours later, Luke, along with yourself, had tracked an unsub while he was taking his latest victim back to his home in a rural area. Back-up, which was supposed to be on the way, wouldn’t be there for at least twenty minutes. When the first blood-curdling scream rang out from the house, the two of you knew you had no choice but to act alone. 

Luke went in through the front door, making his presence known as you tiptoed around the side of the house to enter undetected. When you found a cracked window, you were able to slip inside without much issue. 

In that moment, you remembered hearing Luke attempting to talk down the unsub. You approached their voices, careful not to let anyone know you were inside. 

“How do you think this is going to end?” Luke asked the unsub, his voice firm. 

The unsub had laughed and the muffled cries of his victim could be heard from your spot. You tucked yourself quietly behind a hallway entrance into the room Luke was in. You peeked around the corner to let him know you were there. His only acknowledgment of you was a brief glance, but that was all you needed to know that he wanted you to stay in place. 

“I think,” the unsub started, with more cries coming from his captive, “that she’ll probably die before this is all over.” 

You tried to recall the profile. Emily’s voice replayed in your mind. 

“He kills with a knife and dumps the body in a secondary location, meaning he gets the women alone and gets close to them before he kills them. Based on the demographics of this region, he’s probably a white man. Likely in his 30s. Attractive but single, most definitely living alone. That’s his selling point. That’s how he’s managed to lure all these women into his vehicle.”

Nothing stuck out to you about him. There was nothing you could think to do to help in this situation besides hide behind the wall. You were waiting for a signal from Luke or the sound of backup approaching. 

Luke cleared his throat and you could picture him shaking his head. “It doesn’t have to be like this, man. Let her go and I can help you.”

The unsub laughed again and you cringed. There was something so unsettling about his voice and his laughter. 

The unsub started to speak, but his voice was cut off by the sound of sirens wailing in the distance. This was your moment. 

You whirled around the corner, gun drawn. “FBI, don’t move,” you warned. The unsub turned to look at you. His cold blue eyes bore a hole in your head. A shiver ran through your spine. “Drop the knife.” 

He appeared irritated, rolling his neck as if trying to work out a kink. He glanced down at his victim. Her eyes were wide and frantic, tears streaming down her face. She was bound and a piece of cloth was tied around her face as a makeshift gag. He pulled her up to his height by her hair, eliciting more cries.

 “Well sweetheart, this isn’t how I pictured this ending for us. I hope you’ll forgive me,” he said as he raised the knife to her throat. 

“Wait!” Luke shouted. 

It was too late. What followed next was nothing short of chaos. 

Luke let off two shots, both of which connected with the unsub. His body cascaded to the floor. You lunged forward at the poor victim. Her throat, now cut, was bleeding at an alarming rate. However, her eyes remained open and the gasps coming from her mouth told you she was still breathing. 

You threw yourself on the floor next to her, removing the gag from her mouth and placing it over her neck as a makeshift tourniquet. 

“Do you hear that?” you asked, the sirens were right outside the house. “Help is almost here, okay? You have to keep your eyes on me.” Her glassy eyes were locked on yours, but the panic was fading from them with the little life she had left. The cloth in your hands was soaked with blood and your hands were turning a deep shade of crimson. 

You shook your head. “No, no. Come on. Look at me,” you tried to encourage her to hold on just for another moment. 

In the midst of your mumbling, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You whirled around to see Luke crouched behind you. 

“She’s gone, Y/N,” he said gently. His eyes were locked on her lifeless body. You furrowed your brow, denial coursing through your veins. 

Just as you were about to protest, the EMTs burst through the door with Emily and Dr. Reid in tow. Luke pulled you out of the way as they tended to both the victim and the unsub. 

The four of you watched helplessly from the corner of the room. You felt your body shake gently, adrenaline getting the best of you. You could feel Reid’s eyes on you. His judgement making you more anxious. 

You watched as one of the EMTs working on the victim turned to look at you. He shook his head gently, a sign that she really was gone. 

You'd never forget her face.

A sigh of defeat left your lips and tears welled up in your eyes. In a moment driven by pure emotion, you shot out of the house and back towards the SUV.

Luke sprinted out the front door after you. “Where are you going?” he shouted, clearly confused by your sudden burst of determination. 

“Back to the hotel,” you said matter-of-factly, sliding into the driver’s seat of the car. He rushed over to the driver’s door, holding it open so you couldn’t slam it shut. 

He looked incredulous. “And who am I supposed to ride with?”

You rolled your eyes. “Luke, two people just died and you’re worried about who your chauffeur is going to be.” 

Luke seemed to get the message he pulled back from the door, allowing you to shut it. You started the SUV, cracking the window just enough to shout, “Catch a ride with Reid and Emily.”

You pulled out onto the highway, foot heavy on the pedal as adrenaline still run through you. 

Nearly half an hour later and still covered in blood, you stumbled into the hotel lobby. The desk lady, panicked, quickly rushed in front of you. The lady, presumably Linda based on her nametag, asked you if she needed to call the police. You’d shown her your badge with a bitter laugh, explaining that you were the police. The smell of her floral perfume was making your head spin more than it already was. Thankfully, with a sympathetic smile, she’d moved out of your way and allowed you to proceed to your room. 

Which was how you ended up here, trying to scrub blood off of your still-shaky hands. You weren’t sure how long you’d been at this, but you couldn’t quit now. The dark evidence was still embedded deep beneath your fingernails. 

-SPENCER’S POV-

Walking into the house behind Emily, I could already see the mess that had unraveled. There was blood on the wall, where the unsub lay propped up but clearly dead as if he’d landed sitting up. There was blood on the floor, covering the lifeless body of the last victim. 

And there was blood all over her, the new girl, who was standing in the corner. Her eyes stared off into the distance, and she looked like she could faint at any moment. 

She was nice. Too innocent for the job, clearly. If I hadn’t been sure about that from the other case we worked together, it was evident now. 

Emily and I walked over to the corner, standing beside Y/N and Luke as the EMTs worked on both the unsub and the victim on the other side of the room. Despite the gory scene before us, I couldn’t bring myself to take my eyes off Y/N yet. Thoughts laced with sympathy crept into my mind and I resisted the urge to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. 

Just as I was about to do just that, the closest EMT turned to her and shook his head. The victim, as the unsub, was dead. She let out a sound that I could only describe as a shudder before she raced out the front door. 

“What the hell?” Luke asked, following her out. 

Emily sighed, staring at the two bodies before us as the EMTs packed up their things. “Kind of a harsh second case for the kid, huh?” she asked. 

I thought for a moment and shrugged, pushing sympathy away. “It’s not like it gets any easier from here on out, she might as well get used to it now.” I turned and started to walk out of the house, just in time to watch the new girl whip the SUV out of the driveway and hightail it back towards town. Though I wasn’t looking at her, I felt Emily shoot me a look. 

“You’d have never said a thing like that before you went away, Spencer,” she scolded. 

I took a deep breath. She was probably right. “No, I wouldn’t have, but things are different now,” I said plainly. 

I walked down the front porch steps and out on to the lawn where Luke was waiting for us, impatiently resting a hand on the handle of the SUV’s door. 

“Where’s your ride?” I quipped sarcastically. 

He shook his head. “Don’t start. It’s been a long day for all of us.” 

Emily caught up to me, pulling the SUV keys out of her pocket and unlocking the door so Luke could climb inside. As he did, she turned to me. 

“When we get back to the hotel, I want you to go check on Y/N.”

I felt my face contort in a scoff. “Why would I be the one to do that?” 

“Because,” Emily said, staring at the SUV before us, “someone needs to.” 

“So why don’t you?” I challenged, growing more exasperated by the second. 

Emily snapped her head to the side, her eyes shooting daggers at me. “Spencer,” she said sharply. I looked at her, trying to read her microexpressions. “I worry about you. Do you get that?” 

That wasn’t the reply I was expecting. 

I averted my eyes to the ground, somewhat ashamed of my previous attitude. “Yeah, I know.” 

“I want you to check on her because she needs someone who has seen bad things to explain to her that those bad things are survivable,” she started, eyes still locked on my face. I glanced up at her as she continued. 

“And, I want you to check on her because I think it would be good for you,” she finished. 

“Good for me?” I asked, with less attitude and more curiosity this time. 

Emily sensed the shift in my demeanor and I could see her shoulders relax. “Yes, good for you. Ever since you came back, you never stay out after cases anymore. Remember how we all used to go out together? Have a couple drinks? Relax?” 

I nodded because I did remember.  Those were some of the best memories of my life. 

“All you do anymore is go home or back to the hotels and hide in your room until the next morning, reading Vigotsky or Tarkovsky or whatever you do.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was reading the works of Dostoyevsky, so I let her continue uninterrupted. 

“It’s time for you to do some socializing. I think talking about yourself might do you some good for once. Besides, Y/N really is a ray of sunshine once you get to know her. I think her company will be good for you.” 

I thought about what she said for a moment. She wasn’t entirely wrong. “Alright,” I said, “I’ll stop by her room before I go to bed for the night.”

Satisfied with my answer, Emily proceeded to the SUV. 

Soon enough, we were back at the hotel. I thought about how to proceed. Should I go to her room immediately? Should I wait and change out of my work clothes first? 

Absolutely not. Talking is one thing. Wearing my pajamas in front of her? That’s too personal. 

I decided to head straight to her room. Ripping the bandaid off seemed like the best option. 

I strolled down the hall and stopped in front of her door. I placed three quick knocks on the door and waited. And waited. I knocked again. Nothing. 

Maybe she’d gone out for the evening, I reasoned. Or, maybe she was asleep. Regardless, I was ready to turn and go back to my room when I heard the faintest sound of running water coming from inside. 

My mind raced. She was surely just in the shower, right? Or maybe running a bath? The FBI agent in me freaked out. What if she’d went off the deep end and was trying to drown herself? Or what if-

I tried to run through my options, the first obvious one being to try the door handle, which was miraculously unlocked. Who the hell leaves their door unlocked in a cheap hotel like this?

“Y/N?” I called out as I stepped into the room. The bathroom door was wide open to the left of the main door I just entered, and I peered around the corner. 

She stood before the sink, eyes locked on her hands which appeared to be scrubbed nearly raw. I walked inside, concern building by the moment. “What are you doing?” I asked. 

She didn’t hear me - or she ignored me if she did. She continued scrubbing her hands diligently. I leaned forward to get a better look. A few red streaks ran off her hand and down the sink, but I wasn’t so sure what she was washing off was the victim’s blood anymore. 

“Y/N, stop. You’re hurting yourself,” I scolded. Her motions continued. She seemed dazed and unaware of my presence. She was surely in some kind of shock. 

As I stood behind her, I felt as though the scrubbing intensified. I made a snap decision. Stepping forward, I placed my arms on either side of her body, caging her in around the sink as I firmly grabbed her forearms and separated her hands. 

She jumped violently, enough for me to release her arms from my grip and back away quickly. 

“My god, Dr. Reid. How long have you been here?” she asked as her voice shook. She looked exhausted and her hands were bright red. Red lines where she’d repeatedly used her nails to scrape at the skin caught my eye. I pulled my gaze away from her hands, making eye contact with her for the first time. “I came to check on you, after everything. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

She looked down at her hands, the realization of what she had done became apparent as she flexed her fingers and winced. 

“Looks like I came at the right time,” I said quietly, more to myself than to her. 

She shook her head incredulously before she began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Reid. I have no idea why I was doing that. You shouldn’t have had to-” 

I shrugged. “It happens.”

Silence filled the room as I noticed she was still in her blood-soaked clothes. Thoughts whirled through my mind, but I couldn’t form a coherent thought. Words were pouring out of my mouth without my approval. 

 “Here’s what I purpose,” I said before I could stop myself. “Take a shower, get changed, and meet me in my room for a few minutes. I just want to talk to you about a some things.”

 She stared at the floor. I almost thought she was going to say no. 

“Okay,” she whispered. 

I nodded, heading for the bathroom door. “Room 91A. And please, call me Spencer,” I stated. Not waiting for her response, I shut the bathroom door behind me and locked her hotel door on my way out.

-READER POV-

You felt like you were in trouble. 

You know when you’re merely a child and you get in trouble in the middle of class? You know the feeling of your stomach sinking as you walk to the principal’s office?

That was the only way you could describe walking to Dr. Reid’s - Spencer’s - room. 

After a shower that stung your hands and brought tears to your eyes, you slipped into some comfy clothes and wrapped gauze around the rawest parts of your palms, before heading to his room. 

Room 91A. You tapped your knuckles on the door twice. You heard shuffling from inside the room. Spencer stood before you, also showered, also in his pajamas. 

This caught you by surprise. He could tell by the way your eyebrows shot up at his appearance. “I figured we might as well be comfortable with one another,” he said before stepping out of the way. “Come in.”

You brushed past him as you walked inside. Though it was just a hotel room, something about the stack of books on the side table and paperwork scattered on the desk brought a small smile to your face. 

One book in particular laid face up on the edge of the bed. “Dostoyevsky?” you asked. 

Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your question. “Yes. Have you read his work?” 

You nodded, glancing up at him as you ran your hand over the cover of the book, tracing the engraving on the cover of the antique copy. “Everybody knows Crime and Punishment, but I prefer White Nights.” 

You’d caught him off guard. “I didn’t know you were interested in Russian literature,” he said, walking to the other side of the room and taking a seat in one of the two armchairs positioned in the corner, “or any literature, for that matter.” 

You shrugged. “We’ve only known each other for two weeks. I’m not sure why you’d have any idea.” 

His stare faltered, and you caught him averting his eyes to the floor as he leaned back in the chair. “I should have asked. I haven’t been very kind to you. I haven’t done a very good job of making you feel welcome here,” he started cautiously. 

That caught your attention. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but your first response was to reassure him. “It’s no problem, Spencer. It’s been so busy that I haven’t had time to get to know anyone very well.” You perched yourself on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully. 

“That isn’t true,” he said matter of factly. 

“Excuse me?” you asked, genuinely confused as to if you heard him right. 

Spencer cleared his throat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the tops of his thighs. His hands folded and he used them as a rest for his chin. You could see the gears turning in his head. 

“I said that it isn’t true. You have gotten to know everyone quite well, from what I gather,” Spencer said. 

Before you could respond, he started in again. “I’ve seen pictures of you with Luke and Penelope at the club after the last case. I know you went to lunch with Will and JJ. She says you’re fantastic with Henry and Michael. Tara told me you helped Rossi finish the thousand piece puzzle he’s had splayed out on his office table for two months. All this while Emily claims you’re a ray of sunshine.” 

Your mouth had fallen open a bit in the midst of his confession. You tried to think of an appropriate response. “Well, yes. That’s all true. But I don’t expect you to go out of your way to get to know me. I’m a people person.” You pointed to the books on his side table. “You, on the other hand, seem to prefer quiet time alone. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

The room was silent for a moment. The sound of Spencer’s foot tapping quietly against the floor kept the time. One, two, three… 

“I didn’t used to be this way,” he said frankly. 

You glanced at him, trying to read his expression. His face was stoic. He didn’t look particularly upset, though he surely wasn’t happy either. He ran a lone hand through his hair and brushed a few solitary curls from his eyes. 

“I know,” you responded. 

He furrowed his brow at you, confusion written all over his face. You rose from the bed and approached him before plopping down in the armchair next to his. 

“You know how, for us normal people, we spend a few years in training before we actually get a real assignment?” you asked. 

He nodded. 

“I’ve been with the Bureau in that capacity going on four years,” you started, eyes locked on the wall across from you. “My third year, there were rumors about an FBI agent spending time in prison for some high-level crime. People theorized it was connected to drug running, treason, even murder.”

Spencer cringed. 

“For the longest time, I thought it was a rumor. I forgot about it and I got an internship in Internal Affairs,” you continued. “One day, my boss handed me this huge file, full of reports going back over a decade.”

He was curious now, staring at you intensely as you did your best not to melt under his gaze. 

“If you haven’t figured it out yet, that was your file. One section was full of every report you’d ever written. The other section was what the Department of Justice had collected in an attempt to convict you in the fall.” 

This was new information to Spencer, who felt himself let out a bitter laugh. You paused to look at him. 

“I’m not sure why I’m surprised by that,” he said sourly. “I knew then they would want to be as far away from the case as possible. No wonder it was easier for them to try to keep me in there.” 

You shrugged, continuing. “I guess Emily had called in a favor with Internal Affairs. I was tasked with finding proof of innocence.” 

“And?” Spencer asked. 

“I couldn’t find any,” you stated simply. He nodded. “But I never forgot the file, especially the pictures inside. I never forget a face. Reading through your life with the Bureau, seeing the sequence of ID images each year as you got older, maybe even colder. That stuck with me for some reason.”

He appeared intrigued and was clearly doing his best not to interrupt. 

“When I woke up one morning and saw this huge CBS headline about the DOJ dropping the charges against a wrongly accused agent, I felt a strange kind of vindication,” you admitted. “Nine months later I got a call from Emily, asking me to come in for an interview. Two months later, now we’re here.”  

“Now we’re here,” he repeated. 

You cleared your throat. “What I didn’t bank on when I joined the BAU, was the same face from that file would be across from me at the table every day.”

You turned to him to find he was already looking at you, and you offered him a small smile. “All this to say,” you whispered, “I think you have every reason not to be friendly with the new hire.” 

The room was silent once more, the two of you sneaking glances at each other. Spencer was the first to break the silence. 

“Emily sent me to check on you because she thought it would be good for both of us,” he confessed. “She said you should see me as an example that people can get through bad things, and that I needed to get out of my head and into the real world.” 

You were quiet for a moment before shifting in the chair. You thought of everything you’d seen over the last twelve hours.

“I never forget a face,” you whispered again, thinking back to the victim on the floor. Her glassy eyes staring up at your own. 

Spencer nodded. “Me either.” 

“So how do you do it?” you asked him. 

He turned to you. You swore you could see tears forming in his eyes. 

“I find that there's always that little moment right when you wake up in the morning, when everything's good, because your mind has temporarily forgotten the bad stuff.”

You smiled as he continued. “At night, when I can’t sleep, I make a list in my head of all the good things I've seen someone do. Every little thing I can remember. It's like a game.”

You tried to think about every good thing you’d ever seen someone do and tears welled in your eyes. “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” you said. 

“It works sometimes,” Spencer smiled. He moved forward, placing a hand on your knee. You looked up at him. The two of you stared at each other. 

“You have to know that you’ll never fully forget these things, but we get through it as a team,” he finished. 

The tears welled up in your eyes spilled over, and you noticed that a few of his own had to. The hand on your knee moved up, wiping the fallen tears from your cheeks.

After a moment of letting the tears dry, you rose from the chair. “I really appreciate this, Spencer. I’m sorry that you had to go out of your way to help me, but I am very grateful.” 

He stood, towering over you. “It’s not a problem. I enjoyed talking to you.” 

“I enjoyed talking to you too,” you said with a smile. You stood next to him for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his close proximity before you snapped out of it. “Well, I should probably go back to my room and let you get back to your work.”

You turned from him and walked towards the door, pausing only when you heard his voice call after you. 

“Y/N,” he said, taking a few steps in your direction to where you’d crossed the room. 

“Yeah, Spencer?” you said, turning to face him. 

He faltered, his eyes finding the floor again. “I just,” Spencer stuttered for a moment, trying to regain his cool. “I was wondering if you wanted to stay. Stay and talk, of course. I-” he paused a moment more. Spencer took a deep breath. “I think Emily was right. I do enjoy your company and I’d like you to stay for a while,” he said firmly. 

You couldn’t hide the surprise on your face. Spencer saw it, too, quickly rushing to give you an out. 

“You don’t have to, of course,” he rushed. His cheeks burned red. 

“No, I don’t have to,” you said. “But I’d like to.” 

You saw his shoulders relax as the tension left his body. 

“Great,” Spencer nodded. He sounded relieved. 

You walked over to the armchair, plopping back down next to him. “Right, so,” you started, “What’s your topic of choice, Spence?” 

The use of his nickname brought the blush back to his cheeks as he scurried back into the chair next to you. 

He glanced at the books on the side table, the topic of conversation coming to him quickly. “Tell me,” Spencer started, “What resonates with you about the White Lady?”

You smiled before diving into a summary that not only analyzed the text but connected it to your own life. You thought your heart skipped a beat when you caught a glimpse of Spencer smiling warmly at you as you rambled. 

It was a long, interesting, conversation-filled night. 

[lizzyk137]

Misunderstandings and Realizations- A Spencer Reid Fanfiction (Spencer X Reader)

Summary: You and Spencer started to drift apart after JJ's confession, you can handle it for only so long before leaving him. Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage, angst, fluff, brief mentions of sex, brief mention of serial killer, brief mention of seizure, talk of pregnancy, brief moments of being in a hospital Based on Season 14 episode 16 all throughout Season 15

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Something went down.

Not in the bad way, well you guess you could say it was bad because there was a hostage situation with an Unsub, but something certainly happened.

You felt it when he came back home to you that night. Curling himself around you, kissing your neck all over before finally making passionate love to you, like the world would end if he didn't. Usually, you cuddle and fall asleep after you both clean up, but he left you in bed as he went out to the living room, his face masked of any emotion.

His face often did that now when you were around. You had asked the other team member's partners during your weekly get together at the park, but none of them knew what went down that night, not even Will. All he knew was that the Unsub played a game with JJ and Spencer, and JJ didn't tell him anything but that.

You saw the looks at Rossi's wedding, you tried to ignore them. Will seem oblivious to them, but you caught every single one. Spencer didn't ask you to dance either that night, something he loved to do with you since it gave him the excuse to hold you close, look into your eyes and give you kiss after kiss all while you giggled. He loved the feeling of your heart beating in sync with his, he had told you and since then he would randomly dance with you at home and especially when you both went out.

The looks continued throughout the night, the random hush conversations. They didn't stop even when Will got JJ to dance or Alvez came over to ask you to dance. Spencer didn't even seem to care when you said yes, and you spent the rest of the night dancing with Alvez and Pennelope. He just sat alone at the table, his gaze always finding JJ's.

--

Kristy watched you, her hand on her growing bump, as you ran around the playground with her youngest daughters. "Are you sure he isn't just stressed?" She had asked, her voice almost lost in the mixture of the kid's giggled and screams.

You peaked your head from behind one of the slide's. "He's been going to therapy and taking his medicine regularly. It could be but he's never been like this before."

You slid down the slide, the plastic being a little slicker than you thought causing you to fall off and onto the ground.

A pain in your stomach appeared, causing you to gasp, but you quickly brush it away as Henry and Michael came running up to you with a disheveled Will running to catch up with them. You played with the kids for a while, the pain growing more intense, before you slugged your way over to the bench where Kristy and Will sat.

"You should sit down. The kids are pushing you hard today." Kristy laughed. You sat down next to her, a cry escaping your lips as your body touched the cool bench beneath you. "Are you okay?"

You shook your head as the pain increased, your vision going blurry as you felt Will's hands grab your body before it hit the bench.

--

Spencer watched as Matt and Kristy laughed at what Luke said, Matt's arms circling his wife's very pregnant belly. He wondered if he would get to do that one day, but he shook the thought from his mind before going back to his conversation with Tara.

"How's Y/N, doing? She's been quiet the past couple of meet ups."

Spencer nodded his head before lying, "She's been okay, work has her stressed out. She spends most days reading or with the kids." He knew it wasn't the truth but every member of his team that has asked how you've been, he just gave the same reply. Because in all honesty, he didn't know the truth. One day you were just quiet.

He saw the cracks in your usual smiley self. You were a ray of sunshine, always what was needed to brighten up his usual gloomy self. He knew things have been different, he didn't want to admit it. His brain always confused on what he wanted and possibly who he wanted, though he would never tell you that. He always made himself busy, usually taking on more cases from police departments that needed help or booking more classes to teach. The only intimacy you both had was when he came home after cases. He would kiss you like your lips was the air he needed and then made love to you for hours before watching you drift off to sleep before moving to the couch which had become his bed every night because it wasn't right of him to lay next to you while he had been tossing around the idea of a life with another women.

Spencer knew you were lonely, but you stayed, he was thankful for that, he didn't know what he would do without you in his life. But he couldn't shake what was going through his head.

Somewhere in the midst of overthinking, his feet brought him to Kristy. She stood there glowing as she smiled, her hand still rubbing on her belly. "Come to say congratulations again, Dr. Reid?" Her eyes playful as she teased him.

"Um, do you know where Y/N is?" He asked. He hadn't been able to find you for the past hour, which shouldn't have been hard since the house only had so many hiding places.

"She didn't tell you, did she? She had an appointment this afternoon, but she should be here soon." Spencer nodded, trying to remember if you had told him, which you didn't because his brain wouldn't allow him to forget things. "This must be super hard on her though, so make sure you show her some extra love."

Spencer looked at her puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"You know, with the miscarriage. It has to be hard on her to go to this type of celebration." Spencer's puzzled expression only grew as she spoke, so she decided to continue on. "Did she not tell you? She told us she was going to tell you."

"Everyone knew?" His voice barely a whisper.

"No, no. Just Will, Penelope, Luke along with Matt and me. It happened about eight months ago. She fell down playing with the kids and passed out. Will brought her to the hospital, they said it was because she was so stressed."

"Because of work?" Spencer voice was squeaky as worry clouded his face even more.

Kristy's voice was soft but also annoyed. "No, because of what has been going on with you and JJ. She hasn't been herself since then."

--

You finally made it to the party, your nerves getting to you. Your doctor had confirmed the baby was fine and growing healthy. But you were worried, so worried. What if this ended up like before? Your worrying hadn't died down and Spencer hadn't down anything to change that.

Opening up the front door, you made your way into the house, the house filled with laughter and noise. Your eyes scanned for Spencer, but you couldn't find him. You eventually found Kristy; a smile plastered your face as you hugged her tight. She was one of the few people who could make you naturally smile.

"Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know that you hadn't told Spencer, and I may have told him what happened." Her words fast and covered in worry.

"It's okay," you told her, your hands rubbing her arms. "I just haven't had the heart to do it."

"I didn't tell him what was going on now though." Kristy eyed your too big sweatshirt that had covered your bump before squealing. "How did it go?"

You laughed at her enthusiasm. "It went well, the doctor reassured me that everything was okay. They're healthy and happy. And no, I did not find out the sex either, so don't ask." Her face turned into a pout, and you couldn't help the laugh that slipped out. "Where is Spencer? I think we should definitely talk."

You made your way over to the back patio that Kristy said she had last seen him. You were going to come clean with everything that has happened the last eight months, but your determination faltered when you saw Spencer hugging JJ close to him, her hand rubbing circles on his back.

--

Diana was calling you. Which was strange since she hasn't called you in months. You answered and made your way to a quiet place in the house. You were happy she remembered you, the conversation flowing nicely before she told you about Spencer's visit. What he said and how he felt. She was worried about him, and as his childhood best friend she wanted to let you know what was said and what she had replied with.

You ended the call with the promise to call her back tomorrow. You sank down to the floor, your growing belly blocking you from curling up the way you wanted too.

What had you been expecting? Spencer finally coming clean to his mom that you were together. You doubted he would now that you had moved out without a word a month ago with no communication since. And Diana had proven you right. He made no mention of your relationship.

You took a deep breath and got up. Fixing your hair, you walked out of Matt's office and made your way to Kristy to tell her that you had finally made up your mind.

--

Months had gone by with silence.

No word from him.

No word from you.

You only heard what was going on via the team when they checked up on you. You told them that they didn't have to do that, but Emily said you were a part of the family, you had been for years, and not even Spencer's shitty attitude would change that.

Alvez had taken you in after you told Kristy that you were moving on from Spencer and going forth into motherhood alone. Alvez was someone you trusted, and your friendship grew these past few months. He watched out for you, and you watched out for any girl that you could set him up with. He said it was a win-win situation for him.

You didn't see each other anymore than friends, brother and sister if you really thought about it. But you were grateful for that. You needed it and Alvez enjoyed your company and having someone to watch Roxy while he was on cases. He helped you every time you cried about Spencer especially when you went to your baby appointments and your hormones would make it hard to concentrate on anything but the fact that you were doing this alone. Spencer had already moved on, and you were having his baby alone.

But this perfect set up wouldn't last. The baby was coming soon, and you had to find a place that you could have a proper nursery or at least more space than Alvez's tiny apartment. Plus, the chance that Luke would wind up in a relationship was high, any girl would fall in love with his great personality, and you didn't want to ruin what he could have.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, setting up the baby's car seat. "We would all feel better with having you here with the Chameleon running around still."

"I think it would be better to move out, I don't want to get in the way."

Alvez chuckled then sighed. "Y/N, you're not in the way. I know you felt that way for a bit, but you aren't. The team want you safe. So, stay here until we've caught the guy, alright?"

"Alright, but after that I'm moving out."

Weeks have gone by, the team on the lookout for the serial killer that had haunted Rossi. During that time, you had given birth to an adorable baby boy, the spitting image of Spencer. He was perfect and the sweetest baby, sleeping through the night, all the cuddles he gave you. He was just perfect.

Your phone rang, and you quickly got up to grab it before it awoke your sleeping son. "Hello?" You whispered.

"Oh, Y/N, Spencer..." You heard Penelope crying. "He.. he was shaking so badly... Oh my god, Spencer..."

"Penelope, slow down. Take a deep breath. Tell me what's going on."

Her words were rushed and mumbled, but from what you gathered, you were already packing your baby's stuff up and heading to the car before you got off the phone with her.

--

You rushed into the waiting room to find Penelope and he his mom sitting together. "Oh, Y/N." Diana got up and crushed you into a hug. "I'm so glad you're here."

"How is he?"

Penelope grabbed the baby bag from you. "He's awake now, they ran tests and he'll be okay. They're cleaning him up right now so we stepped out but should be able to see him soon."

You nodded and sat down. It wasn't long before they called you in, you lingered in the back. You hadn't spoken to Spencer for months and you didn't know how he would feel seeing you, especially with the state he was in currently. Plus, you didn't want to make his new girlfriend uncomfortable.

You watched him hug his mom and Penelope, a smile on his face, you could tell he was trying to calm both women's nerves. He chatted with them for a bit until his eyes landed on you in the doorway. He gave you a small smile, his eyes traveling down to the baby carrier in your hands.

His 100-watt smile returned as he looked to his mom and Penelope. "Do you mind if I have a minute with Y/N?" They both nodded and headed out. You lingered in the back of the room, Spencer just watching you.

"How are you feeling?" The silence was deafening, and you wanted to fill the space with something.

"I'll be okay. Is that-?" He nodded towards the carrier. You nodded to his question.

"Did you want to meet him?" You stepped closer when he gave you a small nod. You unhooked the still sleeping baby from his car seat and brought him over to meet Spencer. Spencer reached his arms out and your heart tightened a bit at the sight of your baby being held by his father for the first time. You gently laid your son in his arms, his face brightening with a big smile.

You sat there for a few minutes watching him make faces at your baby, cooing occasionally. You didn't even realize you had started crying until Spencer called your name, worry on his face.

"I'm sorry..." You quickly wiped the tears away.

"It's okay. Thank you for letting me meet him. What's his name?"

"Oh, um, he doesn't have one yet. Every time I think something may sound right; it just doesn't fit." You reached over to fix the blanket that was near your son's face. "The deadline is coming up, so I'll have to settle on something."

Spencer nodded; his one hand came up to stroke his son's face. "You'll find the right name, I know you will, Y/N."

Something in the way he said your name, made you break down. You couldn't stop the tears from flowing or how weak your legs felt. Spencer moved the baby and grabbed your hand, pulling you down to sit on the bed and held you close to him as you sobbed.

Your baby's cough stopped your sobs instantly and you whipped around to look at you sleeping sons face. You rubbed your hand over your face. "Have you been doing this alone?"

You nodded in reply. "I don't want to bother Alvez. He barely comes home with the Chameleon on the loose."

His hand found your face and cupped it gently, your tears still flowing. "I'm sorry I haven't been there. You've done it all alone. I should've been there."

You shook your head quickly. "It was me. I decided this. I didn't tell you." A sob escaped your lips. "It was just so hard without you there." Spencer opened his arm wide, inviting you to cuddle in and you did. You sat like that for a long time, Spencer's arm rubbing circles on your back as you held your arm over his other arm that was holding your son, your head on his chest.

You lifted your head up and looked at Spencer, his eyes on locking onto yours. The draw was powerful and neither of you realized what was happening until your lips touched. After that, you couldn't keep your lips off of him. Both of you pressing your bodies as close as you physically could with a baby in your arms, the need for each other growing with every second. You pulled away for air, guilt instantly hitting you.

"Spence... we shouldn't do this..." You mumbled between Spencer's kisses.

"Why?"

"Because... You have a girlfriend..." The assault on your lips continuing and you were trying not to enjoy it.

Spencer pulled away; his eyes still locked onto yours. "I don't have a girlfriend. I mean I did but I don't anymore. It- it was a fling to try to get over you, but I just couldn't, especially when I found out about our baby. I just want you, Y/N."

"But JJ...?"

"I was confused over what she said, that was wrong of me, but I knew I always needed you with me. I may be smart but I'm dumb when it comes to my feelings. When I found out you lost our baby, I lost it at the shower and JJ encouraged me to talk to you but when I came home you were gone." His eyes started to water, and he pulled you and your baby closer to him. "I've been a mess, barely sleeping, barely eating. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, I know what I've done is not excusable and you have every right to not want me in your life, but I need you."

--

"Y/N!" Spencer whisper yelled at you to get your attention. You looked up at him to find him pointing at the sleepy baby he was holding. You walked over, a smile on your face to see your baby sleeping with his tongue slightly sticking out through his smile.

You giggled, wondering how you got so lucky to have such an adorable baby. "Are you almost ready to go?"

Spencer nodded, before reluctantly putting his sleeping son in his car seat. "Do we have to leave him?"

You giggled again at the silly pout on his face. "As much as I want to stay with him, I think we both need to mentally get out of this house." He nodded as he picked up his son's car seat and diaper bag before making his way out of the house with you locking up behind him.

After dropping your son off at your mother's, Spencer and you made your way to Penelope's sendoff party. Spencer placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing circles against your skin. He knew how anxious you were to be away from your child, hell he was just as anxious, but he knew you needed to see your friend off or you wouldn't forgive yourself.

He felt you relax after a minute, and he gave you a smile when you looked over at him. You sighed and continued to look at Spencer, taking in his features and how attractive it was watching him drive with one hand on your thigh.

The first few weeks after your reunion with Spencer was awkward. You didn't know how to react to everything going around you. The case was wrapped up, Penelope announced she was leaving, and Spencer wanting to get back together. Spencer and you took it slow, not wanting to rush into things, just learning what you both had miss, you decided on being friends and he had suggested in both of you getting a place together so it was easier to raise your son and Alvez could have his place back.

You declined at first but after some thought and Spencer showing you pictures of a few houses on the market, you caved in after seeing a two-story house with its wrap around porch and lilac bushes covering the front yard. All you could picture was your son running around the house playing as you sat on the porch in the early mornings, a book in hand. Since then, the next month and a half was getting the house turned into your home.

The friendship thing worked at first, but somehow you would end up staying up waiting on Spencer to come home from cases, him carrying you to bed when your body couldn't keep yourself awake. The early mornings where you cradled your son as you sat on the couch, Spencer's arms wrapped around you from behind, his face next to yours as he cooed at your little one. The random make out sessions in the kitchen when the tension became too strong.

And one night he gave you such a scare.

You sat waiting up for him, he had sent you a text that he was on his way home, but he wasn't answering your calls, and you feared the worse when he wasn't home hours later. When you heard the front door open, you stomped your way from the kitchen to see his smiling face, arms full of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. His smile faltered when he saw how angry you were, tears streaming down your face.

You yelled at him, careful not to walk the sleeping child upstairs, but enough for him to realize how angry you were with him. You angrily put away the groceries, telling him that he should've brought a charger to plug in his dead phone, or let her know that he was going to the store instead of saying he would be right home. He didn't understand why you were so upset with him, his brain too tired to figure it out until you blurted out that you loved him. He looked at you with an apologetic smile before pulling you into his arms, apologizing for worrying you.

Sighing in his arms, you looked up at him, the joke you were about to say escaping your mind when you saw the hunger in his eyes. He took your face in his hands and brought his lips to yours. The kiss was full of passion and love and when you pulled away for air, he told you he loved you. After that, the night was filled with passionate kisses and love making.

You smiled thinking back on the memory. Spencer still took things slow with you; he told you he didn't want to mess up his second chance. He slipped his hand on the small of your back as you made your way into Rossi's backyard.

All night Spencer seemed nervous, but you played it off on his dislike for change and Penelope leaving was a big change for him. You squeezed his hand that was on his chest as you slow danced to the music that was wafting around you. You nuzzled your head in his chest as you swayed even when the music stopped playing.

"Y/N." You looked up at Spencer's face, his dark eyes on yours. He kissed the back of your intwined hand and pulled away from you. He reached into his pocket and kneeled down as he pulled out a box. He opened the box to reveal a tear shaped diamond ring, your right hand covering the gasp that came from your lips.

"I know I said I would take it slow, but I can't imagine my life without you. I want to wake up beside you every morning, go to bed with you in my arms, play with our son in the backyard and watch him grow up and continue growing our family." A few stray tears fell down both of your cheeks, a smile stretching across your face at the mention of expanding your family. "I want you and your love, the gentle smiles you give, your contagious laugh. I don't ever want to let those go. You are my home, you are the only one I think of all day, the one who can calm me down with just one look, word or touch. I need you in order to be me. So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you please be my wife?"

"Yes!"

[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM Friends-with-Benefits Challenge

The following are prompts including friends with benefits/situationships!

This event is over (Masterlist here!), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

🥰 Song Prompts 🥰

"Sex" by The 1975

"Too Sweet" by Hozier

"dress" by Taylor Swift

"august" by Taylor Swift

"Casual" by Chappell Roan

"Dinner & Diatribes" by Hozier

"Close to You" by Gracie Abrams

“Stuck in the Middle” by Tai Verdes

"Good Luck, Babe!" by Chappell Roan

"I Wanna Be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys

“Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” by Arctic Monkeys

💌 Dialogue Prompts 💌

“I’m just in it for the snacks.”

“No wonder you’re single…” (joking?)

“So... what’s the stance on cuddling?”

"You deserve something real. I want us to be real.”

“We’re just friends with benefits.” // “Right, and the benefit is being madly in love.” (sarcasm?)

“We’re… friends. With benefits.” // “Without sex? What’s the benefit?” // “My delightful company, asshole.”

"I'm your boyfriend without the benefits." // "Do you want the benefits?" // "Yes—No... I'm your fluffer!" ('New Girl')

“What is up with those two lately?” // “They’re sleeping together.” // “Yeah, right. Imagine… wait, seriously?”

General & NSFW Prompts Below!

🌹 General Prompts 🌹

Someone figures out the situation. A and B try to figure out how.

A is blindsided by jealousy when someone shows an interest in B.

A and B try to be normal so no one knows. Literally everyone knows.

A is so worried about B falling for them that A fails to realize A already fell for B.

A realizes they are happier with B than any actual significant other they’ve had.

A is totally B’s type, which has never worked out before. As a result, A keeps sabotaging things.

A agrees to a situationship with B because they think it's the only way they'll be able to have them.

A reaches out to B for a hookup but gets rejected, and they each struggle with their disappointment.

A is treating the arrangement like a formal business deal. B gets tired of it and shuts them up with a kiss.

A and B used to be friends with benefits. When they meet again later, the arrangement is still appealing.

A has to leave town for a long time. They have one last night with B but don’t tell them. They’re gone in the morning and leave B wondering what they wanted to say the night before.

Anything else you can think of!

💋 NSFW Prompts 💋

A completely defies B’s expectations of what they’re like in bed.

A and B decide to hook up one last time (or maybe not the last...)

A agreed to take B’s virginity as long as B didn’t catch feelings. It seems like B didn’t. A did, though.

A and B's no-judgment rule means they're finally comfortable to ask for what they've always wanted to try in bed.

A is annoyed with B, so they start loudly complaining/joking about their situationship. Angry/playful sex ensues.

A and B have never felt truly satisfied in bed until there were no strings attached... it definitely wasn't because of finding the right partner.

Happy Writing!

[dalamjisung]

CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST

a muted shade of green ✧ a spencer reid series

✧ prologue

✧ chapter 1: cat adams

✧ chapter 2: he's not yours to keep

✧ chapter 3: X marks the spot

✧ chapter 4: pushing the limits

✧ chapter 5: his very own lighthouse

✧ chapter 6: silver linings

✧ chapter 7: the end of beginnings

✧ chapter 8: it's a natural progression

✧ chapter 9: his angel girl*

✧ chapter 10: in the works

...

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Hormones

Description: You're feeling not-so-yourself during your pregnancy and Luke reassures you. 

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: none

You were sprawled out on the couch, head resting on Luke’s lap. One of his hands was softly stroking your hair while the other rested lightly on your baby bump. The baby gave a little kick, causing the both of you to smirk.

“You hungry?” Luke asked in a raspy, tired voice. You sighed a bit. You had been a bit bummed out with all the baby weight you’d been gaining. And despite the growing human inside of your belly, you couldn't help but wonder if you should be trying to cut back. But between stress, hormones, and cravings, you were continuously losing that battle.

“I guess.”

“So, yes?” Luke chuckled. You nodded and lifted yourself off from him with a groan.

He quickly got up and looked down at you.

“Any requests?”

“Sandwich, please,” you offered him a weak smile.

Luke nodded then kneeled down. He placed his lips on yours before standing back up and walking into the kitchen to get the food.  

You grabbed the remote to turn up the volume of the TV, barely hearing Luke return shortly after with a sandwich. 

He placed the plate on the coffee table. “Anything else, baby?“

"Do we still have chips?” You asked. He smiled and nodded. “Oh and those pickle spears you bought,” you quickly added.

“Yes ma'am.”

“And can you grab the peanut butter?” By this time Luke turned around to look at you, an amused smile smeared across his face. “Oh and…..and….” You couldn’t continue talking as tears started to cloud your eyes. Almost instantly, your face crumpled, tears spilling the second you blinked. By instinct, you cover your face with your hands, hiding your embarrassment to the best of your ability.

“Baby–” Luke quietly muttered as he walked towards you. He got on his knees in front of you, splaying his large palms across the tops of your thighs. “Hey, hey, hey.”

"God… I’m so– Damnit, I don’t even know,” you sputtered, shaking your head.

“So what, baby?” Luke moved his hands from your thighs to your wrists. He gently tugged, attempting to move them away from your face. “Hey, look at me.”

Sighing defeatedly, you let Luke guide your arms down, showcasing your tear-stricken cheeks and pouty lips. 

“What’s this all about?” he asked gently, eyes concerned, yet still adoring as they raked over you. God, even in the state you were in, you could tell how much this man loved you.  

You tried to take a steadying breath, otherwise you’d never be able to speak. “I have gained,” you said slowly, “so much weight lately. And I just…” more tears slid down your cheeks. “I don’t feel– I don’t feel pretty anymore.”

“Baby–” Luke murmured agonizingly, his eyebrows furrowing into a fine line.

“I’m huge, yet I still can’t stop eating.”

“You’re pregnant,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. 

“I’m huge even for a pregnant lady,” you said decidedly. “I’m disgusting. I feel it– I look it. I just… I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this for another three months.”

Luke sighed. “I know it’s not fair you have to do this part alone,” he empathized. 

“What if–” you opened and then re-closed your mouth quickly, snapping it shut animatedly. 

“What?” he urged you to continue. 

You shook your head. 

“Babe, please talk to me.”

Finally, you sighed. “What if you’re not attracted to me after all of this. I knew things would change, but my body is going to look entirely different. What if you don’t like it?”

Before he had a chance to answer, you continued. “It’s just– I’ve gained so much weight, and not just in my stomach–” you slapped your hands against your legs. “My legs rub. God, I’ve gone through like five pairs of leggings because I keep wearing holes in the thigh.” 

Luke scoffed, “I’ll buy you an infinite supply of leggings.”

“That’s impossible,” you pouted back. “And my boobs–” you moved your hands so that they cupped your breasts. “My boobs are exploding.”

Luke smirked. “If you’re waiting for me to complain about that one, you’re going to be waiting a while.”

Your face dropped. “Did you have complaints about how they were before?” You felt the tears starting to well up in your eyes again as the hormones rushing through your body took absolute control. 

“What?” Luke asked, bewildered. “No, baby, that’s not at all what I was saying.”

“What if they go back to normal after I have this baby, are you not going to like them anymore?” Your cheeks grew hot as you continued to cry.

“C’mon,” Luke said helplessly. He gave you a pleading look. “Of course I will-”

“What if I get saggy–” You continued to ramble, practically hysterical at this point. “What if my stomach gets even bigger after I have the baby because I stress eat? What if–” you swallowed a hiccup. “What if you don’t like me anymore? What if you’re not attracted to me anymore?”

“Baby, stop,” Luke said sternly, finally getting you to snap your mouth shut. He let go of your hands and moved to cup the sides of your face. “C’mon, baby. I love you so much. I love your body, too. God, you are so, so beautiful. And I’m always going to love it, even when it changes. Not just for how it looks, but because it’s part of you. Your body is what lets me hold you, it’s what lets us do things together. I mean, Christ, it’s growing us a child, right now. That’s so fucking amazing– your body is fucking amazing. And as long as your body lets me do this,” Luke leaned forward and planted his lips firmly against yours. It was a quick kiss– executed purely to make a point. But even still, when he pulled away, you felt breathless. “As long as your body lets me do that, I will love it in any size, shape, or form it wants to be in.”

And because he knew you were stubborn, he continued, “That means I’m going to love every inch of you, forever, no matter what. Fat, skinny, saggy.” 

He wiped the tear that was falling down your cheek. “I know your body doesn’t feel like yours right now. And I know you’re tired and uncomfortable, and I also know that even though I know all of that, I don’t understand it. And I’m sorry that I can’t do anything to make any of that better. But I love you and I will always want you.”  

Your lips trembled, your voice breaking as you spoke. “Promise?”

Luke let out a shaky laugh. “I promise. I promise with everything inside of me. I mean, you’re carrying my baby, my child.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach. “You’re gonna make me a dad– I’m going to owe my whole life to your body. Cause that’s what you and this kid are going to be, baby. My entire life.”

You were teary eyed, but for a different reason this time.  

“I’m sorry I get so crazy sometimes,” you whispered. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. 

Luke lifted your knuckles to his mouth, where he placed a soft kiss against your skin. “You’re not crazy, you’re pregnant,” he said. 

[pastanest]

so cute how reid is the baby of the team even to luke alvez who is canonically at least a decade younger than spencer and by the time he goes to prison really doesn’t know him that well but immediately joins the “get our son out of that cell or so help me” mentality

[cece693]

A Bright Place in the Dark

pairing: spencer reid x gender neutral reader tags: first impressions, reader sees Spencer as innocent and too good to be true, pre-relationship, all knowledge of this fandom comes from Tumblr fics and personal opinion, not fact checked

By the time you arrived at the Behavioral Analysis Unit, you were practically reciting facts about Dr. Spencer Reid in your head:

Over 187 IQ

An eidetic memory

A heart too big for a world as harsh as this

Those whispers, however, never prepared you for how human he would be. No legend of brilliance or office gossip about his quirks ever quite captured the softness in his eyes, or the halting way he spoke when he was nervous.

Your first day at the BAU felt like entering another planet. The bullpen buzzed with conversations about suspects, horrifying details of cases, and the flickering overhead lights seemed to spotlight every anxious beat of your heart. And then you saw him—a lanky figure hunched over a precarious tower of files, as though he didn’t know quite how to balance them against his chest.

You caught him looking around, scanning for an empty spot to set the documents down. Except he chose the worst possible moment to shift his weight; the top of the stack slid, pages scattered in every direction.

Dr. Spencer Reid froze, a rush of panicked words tumbling out of his mouth. “Oh no—sorry, sorry. I’m usually not this clumsy. Statistically, people trip at least—”

You bent down to help, offering a friendly grin. “Hey, it’s okay. It happens.”

He paused, as though your small kindness were a revelation. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, and for a split second, you glimpsed the vulnerability behind those gentle hazel eyes. When you straightened up with an armful of papers, you noticed the shy half-smile tugging at Spencer’s mouth. His cheeks had gone just a little pink, and he quickly busied himself by reorganizing the files.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, more subdued than before. “I’m Spencer Reid, by the way…Dr. Spencer Reid. You must be the new profiler—”

“That’s me,” you replied, introducing yourself. “It’s my first day, so I guess we can both say it’s a learning curve.”

He nodded, an anxious laugh slipping out. Then, as if remembering his role, he cleared his throat and motioned to the files. “These are some old case studies. We…we keep them around for reference, though I try to digitize them in my spare time.”

“Sounds fascinating,” you said. And you meant it, curiosity tugging at you like an impatient child. “I’d love to take a look sometime.”

His eyes flicked from the pages to you, wide and a little uncertain. Then, almost imperceptibly, relief smoothed the lines of tension on his forehead. “Sure. That’d be…good. Really good.”

In the following days, you quickly learned that your new job was every bit as tough as everyone warned. Each morning, the team assembled to face tragedies as mind-boggling as they were gruesome. Photos, crime scene details, and psychological autopsies filled your laptop.

Amid all the darkness, there was always him, moving through the chaos with a gentle sort of efficiency. Spencer held a wealth of knowledge in that brilliant mind, quoting statistics, classical literature, and obscure references effortlessly. Yet, you noticed how he spoke as though he feared his own intellect would push people away.

You tried to reach out, offering a smile or a small joke whenever he started rattling off something about “differential equations” or “geospatial profiling.” Each time, his shoulders would relax a fraction, as if he was grateful someone was listening rather than judging.

It wasn’t long before you started working late alongside him. You’d catch Spencer hunched over his desk, stacks of books and case reports spread in front of him, a half-full mug of coffee growing cold.

“Hey,” you said one evening, easing into the adjacent chair. “Mind if I sit?”

He lifted his gaze, blinking as if coming up for air. “Oh, of course, sure.”

Silence settled, filled by the low hum of the overhead lights and the distant clatter of a cleaning cart in the hallway.

“How do you handle it?” you asked, your voice quiet. “All the darkness?”

Spencer leaned back, momentarily lost in thought. “I—well, I guess I try to understand it. If I can figure out why someone does something terrible, maybe it’ll help prevent the next tragedy. At least that’s what I tell myself.” He gave a self-conscious shrug, eyes darting away. “I’m not sure if that’s the best answer.”

You offered a gentle smile. “It’s an honest one. And I think that’s what matters.”

As weeks turned into months, you and Spencer found yourselves gravitating toward each other. Lunchtime in the break room became a quiet sanctuary, where his commentary on quantum theory or historical murder cases was punctuated by the sandwich you’d share half with him because he often forgot to pack lunch.

He’d fret, insisting you didn’t need to share, but you found a simple joy in seeing his face relax when he finally took a break. Sometimes, a ghost of a smile would linger at the corners of his lips afterward, as if he was unused to anyone caring enough to notice his hunger.

You don't know exactly when your interest in the doctor turned into adoration, but perhaps it could be pointed back to when the team was out on a case and you were stuck trying to piece together a spree killer’s timeline. You hit a wall and decided to take a short break—heading to the building’s small courtyard.

Outside, you found Spencer leaning against a concrete pillar, lost in his own world. The afternoon sun gleamed off his hair, painting him in soft yellows and gold. For a moment, you hesitated. He looks so peaceful. But then he glanced up, and the sun highlighted the hope in his eyes. He waved you over.

“Hey,” you said quietly, sidling up next to him.

“Hey,” Spencer replied, his voice warm.

You stood together, the hush of traffic and a distant bird cawing filling the space between you.

“I was thinking about that timeline you mentioned,” he began without prompting. “If the unsub is traveling by bus, then the times might not match traditional driving estimates, and—” He stopped himself, a self-conscious smile forming. “Sorry. Work brain doesn’t really shut off.”

You laughed softly. “Don’t apologize. It’s actually pretty helpful. I think I’ll re-examine the public transit schedules as soon as we go back inside.”

His gaze lingered on you for a long moment. Then, so softly you nearly didn’t hear, he said, “I’m glad you’re here, you know…with the team. With me.”

Warmth flooded your cheeks, and you hoped he couldn’t see it in the bright afternoon light. “I’m glad, too.” Silence settled, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Sometimes no words are needed to enjoy someone's company—so, as you stared at nothing in particular, you developed the courage to ask Spencer out.

“I, uh, know it’s not exactly typical, but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to grab dinner sometime? Outside of the office, I mean.”

The request hung in the air. Spencer blinked, seeming to mentally catalog the entire situation. You could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes.

“I-I’d like that,” he finally answered, voice a little too fast. A delicate pink brushed across his cheeks.

You had heard the rumors. You’d been told about his genius and his gentle heart—how he deserved the world, though the world often failed to deserve him in return. Watching him now, shoulders slightly hunched as he mentally rehearsed how to do something as simple as dinner, you couldn’t help but think:

If the world won’t cherish him…maybe I will.

He deserved that much, at least. And from the way Spencer offered you a shy smile—a small piece of his guarded heart—you knew he was willing to let you try.

[alana-reid-2005]

i love how we all seem to forget that this innocent baby deer kissed an actress with tongue in her pool while he was supposed to be protecting her in one of the first episodes of the show 🤭 homeboy had rizz since day one

[holydracii]

“i f*cked my way up to the top” - spencer reid! ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹

who?: perv!spencer x maneater!reader

a/n: first smutty thing i’ve written i feel dirty will not happen again (i feel like i got possessed while writing this?)

w/c: 5.2k (again i went a little over board)

summary: “His jaw clenched. You were fucking your way to the top. — And you were winning. And worst of all—he liked it. He liked the power in it. The danger.”

You were walking down the corridor beside Spencer, your heels clacking against the tile in a rhythm too confident for the beige walls of the BAU. He was mid-ramble, something about a new paper he read—quantum decoherence, string theory, Schrödinger’s cat on acid, who knows. You weren’t really listening. You were more focused on the way his hands moved when he talked, long fingers twitching like he couldn’t quite hold still.

And he was focused on you. Always was.

Spencer’s mouth went dry when he noticed it again—just like every day now.

The stares. The greetings. The fucking grins.

Almost every guy in the hallway acknowledged you. A wave. A wink. One guy from Forensics had the audacity to nod and say “Hey, gorgeous.”

Spencer blinked. Stopped walking. The words in his mouth tangled themselves up like a bad dream.

“You uh... must know a lot of people here?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

You just giggled.

Spencer’s brow furrowed. His head tilted. “What’s so funny?”

You glanced at him, sly and soft. “Yeah, I know everyone. Very well.”

The implication hung in the air like perfume—thick, heavy, undeniable.

Spencer’s heart jumped behind his ribs. His fingers twitched again. His eyes dropped from your smirk to your mouth, then further—your throat, your blouse, the subtle rise and fall of your chest. He tore them back up. Swallowed.

He was a profiler. He knew the game. And he hated that you played it so much better than him.

“You’re not serious,” he said finally, voice low.

You raised an eyebrow. “You think I made it here because I aced my psych evals and color-coded my case files?”

“...I mean, those things would help.”

You laughed again, and it was almost cruel. “Spencer, baby. I’ve been on my knees more times than I’ve been behind a desk. To put it simply I got tested — and I'm best, yes”

His breath caught.

You leaned in, brushing past him as you walked again, your hand dragging lightly across his chest as you passed. “But don’t worry,” you murmured. “I’m still deciding if you’re worth the effort.”

His mouth parted, but no sound came out.

You didn’t look back.

Spencer was supposed to be filing reports. Instead, he was in the dim, quiet room of the archives, the light of the desk lamp casting long shadows on the walls. The air smelled like old paper and the faintest trace of your perfume—Chanel No. 5 and something darker.

He’d checked. He’d profiled.

He didn’t like the way Morgan looked at you. Or how Hotch’s eyes lingered just a second too long. Or how you’d touched the new PA’s wrist and whispered something that made him blush.

Spencer was smart. Too smart. And it was driving him insane.

He sat with your personnel file open in front of him. There wasn’t anything official to prove it—but the puzzle pieces were there. Timing of promotions. Transfer requests. The field agent who left mysteriously a week after you arrived. The interdepartmental memos that didn’t quite add up.

His jaw clenched. You were fucking your way to the top. And you were winning.

And worst of all—he liked it. He liked the power in it. The danger.

He didn’t want to stop you. He wanted to be next.

He closed the file and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, breathing slow and shaky. He could still hear your voice.

“I’m still deciding if you’re worth the effort.”

A quiet creak behind him.

He turned.

You were there, silhouetted in the doorframe.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked, walking in, shutting the door behind you with a click.

Spencer stared at you like you were a mirage—half dream, half threat.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.

You walked to him slowly, hips swaying like you knew the effect, like you counted on it.

“I know,” you said. “But I figured... why wait?”

You slid into his lap like you owned him. Your fingers curled around the back of his neck.

Spencer's breath hitched. He didn’t move. Didn’t dare.

“You’ve been watching me, Doctor Reid.”

“You—you’re not subtle.”

“You’re not either,” you purred, grinding down slightly, feeling him stiffen beneath you.

He swallowed hard. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

You smiled like the devil herself. “And you’re about to lose.”

You kissed him. Slow. Possessive. Like you were taking something from him.

And he let you.

The kiss ended, but you didn’t move.

You hovered over him, fingers still tangled in his hair, thumb tracing the edge of his jaw like you were studying him. Like he was your next case. Your next conquest.

Spencer stared at you, wide-eyed and dazed, like he couldn’t tell if this was real or a hallucination born from too many sleepless nights and too much wanting. His hands hovered awkwardly at your waist, barely touching you—like he was afraid you’d vanish if he held on too tightly.

“You kissed me,” he said, dumbly.

You smirked. “Took you long enough to notice.”

“I don’t understand…” he trailed off, but he did understand. He just didn’t want to say it out loud. Didn’t want to admit he liked being used. Liked being one of your pawns.

“You don’t have to understand, Doctor. You just have to behave.”

That shouldn’t have made his pulse spike, but it did.

“Is this part of your—your game?” he asked quietly.

You leaned in close, lips brushing his ear. “This is the game, Spencer. The question is—are you going to play along?”

He shuddered.

And then, finally, he snapped.

He grabbed your waist, hard. Not rough, but with purpose. Possession. Like he’d been holding back for too long.

“I’m not like the others,” he said. His voice was quiet, but it held something dangerous in it. Something simmering.

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “No,” you said slowly. “You’re so much worse.”

He kissed you this time—messy, needy, clumsy with want. Like he’d been starving. Like he couldn’t help himself. His hands gripped your hips like he was anchoring himself, like if he let go, he’d drown.

You moaned softly into his mouth, and it only spurred him on.

You reached down, hand ghosting over the bulge in his slacks, and he gasped, pulling back, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy.

“We—we shouldn’t—”

“We already did,” you whispered, licking your lips. “And you liked it.”

He didn’t deny it.

He just let his head fall back against the chair, breathing heavy, watching you through his lashes like he wanted to ruin you and worship you at the same time.

You stood slowly, straightening your skirt like nothing happened.

Something in his eyes snapped.

He kissed you then—messy, hungry, like he’d been denied oxygen and you were the only source left. It wasn’t sweet.

It wasn’t gentle. It was desperation, pure and raw. His tongue tangled with yours like he needed to prove something—prove that you were his. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, dragging you flush against him, like if there was even an inch between you, he’d lose control completely.

“Do you even know what you do to me?” he rasped, breaking the kiss, panting, forehead pressed against yours.

“I’ve been watching you for months. Do you know how many nights I’ve sat there pretending I was normal, pretending I wasn’t thinking about this? About you? About bending you over that desk in the briefing room, about hearing you cry for me behind a locked door?”

Your heart thundered, but you didn’t look away. You should’ve been scared. Maybe you were. But it didn’t stop the heat building low in your stomach.

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear—tender, if not for the darkness in his gaze.

“I’ve read every paper you’ve ever written. Memorized the way your voice sounds when you're excited. I know how you take your coffee. I know you fake smiles when Morgan flirts with you, and that you bite your lip when you’re trying not to laugh. I’ve imagined what else you bite your lip for…”

You swallowed hard.

His hand slid up under your shirt, fingers trailing fire along your ribs. “Say the word,” he said hoarsely, “and I’ll stop.”

You didn’t.

That was all he needed.

His mouth was on yours again, rougher this time, like he’d just barely been holding himself back before and now—now that he had permission—there was no reason to pretend. His teeth grazed your bottom lip before he bit down, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you gasp.

“That sound,” he breathed. “I’ve heard it in my head a thousand times.”

His hands moved like he already knew your body—like he’d mapped it out in some quiet, obsessive fantasy long before you ever let him touch you. You should’ve known. Maybe you did. Maybe that’s what drew you in. The way he looked at you like you were a secret he was desperate to crack open. Like you were a crime scene and he was going to find every hidden piece of you.

“You don’t get it,” he murmured into your neck as he kissed a line down your throat, his fingers slipping beneath your waistband. “I study you.”

Your breath hitched.

“I’ve imagined the exact pressure it would take to make you tremble. I’ve read so many books on human response, but none of them compare to watching you arch your back when you think no one’s looking.”

His fingers dipped lower, slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every inch. Like he wasn’t just touching you—he was claiming data points, filing them away, building a thesis on your desire.

You moaned, head tilting back, and he grinned into your skin.

“Statistically speaking,” he whispered, “you should be fighting me off right now. You should be running. But you’re not. You want to know how far I’ll go.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide, chest heaving. “I won’t stop unless you make me.”

There was a flash of madness in his eyes. Controlled. Beautifully restrained. Like a knife polished to a shine.

And you weren’t going to stop him.

You didn’t stop him.

You should’ve. Maybe. But instead, you let your hips roll into his touch, greedy for it. You let his breath hitch in your ear, let his fingers slide lower, parting you like he’d been studying your body the same way he studied case files—methodical, meticulous, obsessive.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, and his voice was tight, like it cost him something to stay this controlled. “Fuck.”

He dragged his fingers through you, slow and deliberate, collecting everything, like he was analyzing it. “Do you know what this does to me?” he asked, slipping one long finger inside. “You—like this? You ruin me.”

You gasped, and his other hand caught your hip, keeping you right where he wanted you. “You always act like you don’t notice me watching. But you do. You like it. You like being the reason I have to jerk off in the FBI bathroom between briefings.”

He added another finger—long, thick, curling just right—and you cried out, but his hand clamped over your mouth.

“Shhh,” he hissed, eyes burning. “You don’t want anyone to hear how filthy you are for me, do you?”

You shook your head, biting his palm, and he groaned.

“God, that mouth. You have no idea what I’ve imagined doing with that mouth. I’ve read every psychological profile on oral fixation just trying to understand why the fuck I need to feel your lips wrapped around me like I need air.”

He pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, sucking them slowly, tasting you like a man starved.

“You taste like sin,” he said, voice wrecked. “Like the price of everything I’ve ever wanted.”

And then he was undoing his belt with shaking hands, eyes locked on you, and there was nothing clinical about him now. No trace of the good doctor, the genius, the golden boy.

There was just him. Obsessive. Starving. Unhinged.

And all of it—every fractured, brilliant, filthy part of him—was for you.

His belt hit the floor with a soft clink, but the sound felt deafening in the silence between you. His eyes devoured you—completely unblinking, like a predator studying prey it had already caught.

“You wanna know how long I’ve wanted this?” he asked, already moving over you, sliding you onto your back like you belonged there. “Every single time you walked past my desk in that tight little pencil skirt—I had to bite the inside of my cheek just to keep from grabbing you right there in the damn bullpen.”

You opened your mouth to answer, maybe tease him, but his hand was suddenly at your throat—not squeezing yet, just resting there. A warning. A promise.

Your breath caught.

“Oh,” he breathed. His eyes went half-lidded, pupils blown, and his voice dropped so low it felt like it rolled straight through your spine. “That look right there? When you realized how much you like this? That’s going in my permanent memory archive.”

He pressed down just slightly, enough to make you aware of how fragile it all was. His thumb brushed the side of your neck while the rest of his hand tightened, slowly, like he wanted to feel your pulse racing under his fingertips.

“I’ve read the studies on erotic asphyxiation,” he murmured, mouth hot against your cheek, your jaw, your ear. “I know exactly how long to squeeze, how deep to push. You’re safe with me. That’s the irony, isn’t it?”

He was inside you before you could respond—one long, smooth thrust that knocked the air right out of your lungs. The stretch, the fullness, the filth of it. And with his hand still around your throat?

You moaned—helpless, high-pitched, and ruined.

“Fuck,” he gasped, hips jerking. “You feel like you were made for me.”

He started moving, hard and hungry, and every thrust shoved you higher up the slick black couch that used to stay in Hotch’s office. His grip on your neck tightened—not enough to scare you, just enough to hold you there, under him, for him.

“You like being used, don’t you?” he growled. “You like that I can’t stop thinking about this. About fucking you raw while my hand’s around your throat and my brain is short-circuiting from how tight you are.”

You whimpered, and that only made him groan louder—dirtier, more desperate.

“I’m gonna come so deep inside you,” he whispered, lips brushing yours, “you’ll still feel me when you sit down for your next debrief.”

And the way he said it? Like it wasn’t just dirty talk. Like it was a fact.

Like it was already happening.

“Baby, stop.”

The few words sliced through the air like bullets.

Spencer froze—mid-thrust, hand still wrapped around your throat, eyes wide and desperate above you. His pupils were blown, lips swollen from kissing you like a man possessed, and sweat clung to his neck in delicate rivulets. He looked unhinged. Beautiful. Yours.

But he stopped.

Because you told him to.

You slid your hand over his, slowly, prying his fingers from your throat one by one. Then you pushed him back with a firm palm to his chest, watching the confusion flicker in his eyes, then the arousal that followed it like a shadow.

“You think you’re in control, Doctor?” you asked, voice low and venom-sweet. “That this was your fantasy?”

He let out a shaky breath as you pushed him to sit back on his heels. His cock was still inside you, twitching, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t. Not with the way you were looking at him now.

“You’ve been jerking off to the thought of this for months, haven’t you?” you whispered, grinding your hips down just enough to make him groan—wrecked and guttural. “Obsessing. Profiling me. Getting off on the idea of fucking the girl you weren’t supposed to touch.”

He nodded—pathetic, breathless.

You leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Then sit still. Be good. Let me use you like the toy you’ve been pretending I was in your head.”

And just like that, Spencer broke.

His hands clutched the sheets behind him to keep from touching you, knuckles white, jaw clenched. His brain was short-circuiting—desperate to analyze, to stay in control—but his body betrayed him. He was panting, cock twitching helplessly inside you, eyes rolled up like just the act of being inside you while you called the shots was too much.

You started to move, slow and deep, rolling your hips with calculated precision. He whimpered—Spencer Reid fucking whimpered—head falling back as he tried to hold himself together.

“You’re not going to come until I say so,” you warned, one hand sliding up his chest, nails dragging over his skin. “You’ll sit there and take it like the pathetic, pervy little genius you are.”

“I—fuck—I can’t—” he gasped, shaking beneath you. “Please.”

That’s what you’d been waiting for.

That word. From him.

You smirked, grinding harder now, feeling him unravel beneath you.

“Oh, now you want to beg?”

His hips bucked, instinctive, and you clamped your hand around his throat—not hard, just enough to remind him.

“I said still.”

And he obeyed.

Because no matter how many degrees he had, no matter how many cases he solved, no matter how much control he thought he had—when it came to you?

He was just a toy.

You kept your hand at his throat—just enough pressure to keep him grounded, controlled. Your other hand slid down his chest, slow and teasing, nails dragging along his stomach, until your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, still thick and twitching inside you.

Spencer was a mess beneath you—sweat-slick, trembling, mouth slack with need. His eyes kept fluttering shut, then snapping open again, like he couldn’t stand not looking at you.

“Please,” he choked out, voice wrecked. “I’m—God, I’m so close. I need—fuck—please let me come.”

You tightened your grip slightly around his neck, leaned down until your mouth was right against his ear.

“You need to come?” you repeated, mock-sweet. “After all that talk about how obsessed you are? All those nights jerking off to the idea of owning me… and now look at you.”

You rolled your hips slow, deep, and cruel—just enough to keep him on the edge, but never enough to let him fall over it.

“You don’t own anything, Spencer. You’re just a toy I let inside me. A smart little perv who knows how to beg.”

He groaned—guttural, broken—and you felt his cock twitch, hips jerking involuntarily. His whole body tensed.

He was right there.

And then you pulled off him.

Completely.

His mouth dropped open, a strangled sound clawing out of his throat as his cock throbbed uselessly in the air, aching and flushed, leaking with how badly he needed release. You wrapped your hand around him again—tight, fast, filthy strokes—and his entire body shook.

“I’m gonna—I’m—” he gasped, teetering right at the edge.

And then, with a smirk, you squeezed hard at the base and stopped.

His orgasm died in his throat—cut off before it could crest, back-arching, eyes wide in disbelief as his body tried and failed to finish. A ruined mess of desperation and overstimulation.

He whimpered—actually whimpered—hips twitching, cock still straining in your grip, but there was no release. Just pressure. Just denial.

You leaned in close, lips brushing his ear.

“Good boys come when they’re told,” you whispered. “Not when they beg.”

Spencer collapsed back onto the bed, panting, absolutely wrecked. His cock still hard. Still leaking. Still yours.

And he looked up at you like you were holy.

“I’ll do anything,” he said, voice hoarse. “Please. Let me earn it.”

You grinned, dragging your fingers down his chest.

Spencer was still flat on his back, panting, cock flushed and twitching with the ache of a ruined orgasm he didn’t get to have. His eyes followed your every move—hungry, reverent, completely wrecked.

“You want to come?” you asked, straddling his chest, your knees framing his ribs. He nodded instantly, too fast, like the need had short-circuited his brain. “Then make yourself useful, Doctor.”

You shifted forward slowly, dragging your slick cunt across his stomach, up to his chest, until you were kneeling over his face. His eyes widened. You didn’t give him time to adjust—you just grabbed a fistful of his curls and lowered yourself onto his mouth.

He groaned into you—deep and eager, tongue lapping like a man who’d fantasized about this exact moment every night since the second he met you. He licked you like he had something to prove, like his entire self-worth hinged on how fast he could make you fall apart.

And you let him.

You rode his face, grinding down hard and slow, watching his eyes flutter shut as he moaned against your pussy, so fucking eager it was pathetic.

“God, look at you,” you said, breathless, curling your fingers tighter in his hair. “Smartest man in the room, and you’re happy just being my seat.”

He moaned again—needy and filthy—and his hands clutched your thighs, holding you down, urging you to move faster.

“Oh, now you want to be in control?” you laughed breathlessly. “Not happening, baby. You’re not even allowed to breathe unless I let you.”

You rocked your hips harder, chasing your own high against his mouth, feeling the sharp edge of his nose against your clit, his tongue fucking into you like he wanted to memorize your taste.

“Fuck, yes—just like that—don’t stop,” you gasped, hips grinding now, erratic, relentless. “You wanna come? Then earn it.”

Spencer whimpered beneath you, moaning into your cunt like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted, his hips bucking up helplessly against air, denied again.

You kept going—riding his face like a throne, using him like a toy, moaning his name while you chased your own climax on his tongue.

And when it hit?

You screamed, thighs tightening around his head, grinding down hard as you came all over his mouth—and he just moaned louder, like it fed him.

You finally lifted off him, breathless and shaking, and looked down.

His face was soaked.

His eyes were wild.

And his cock? Still painfully hard. Still untouched. Still waiting for your permission.

“Did I do good?” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Did I earn it?”

You just smirked, dragging a finger through your slick and pressing it to his lips.

“Not yet,” you said. “But you’re getting there.”

You pulled back, gasping for breath, your body still trembling from the way you’d used him. Spencer was still lying there, eyes wide and full of need, mouth slick and swollen, trying to catch his breath like he hadn’t just been a slave to your pleasure.

You slid off his body, slowly, letting him feel the absence of you—the aching emptiness where he had been just seconds ago. He watched you like a lost puppy, desperate for more, but you were done.

You were certainly satisfied.

You grabbed your clothes from the floor, pulling your panties back on first, letting the cool fabric slide over your damp skin. You didn’t spare him another glance as you slid your dress back on, slow and deliberate, like everything had just been another routine for you.

Spencer’s gaze never left you—his hands clutched at the cushions, still hard, still begging for some release, but you didn’t even acknowledge it. He had his answers now, his punishments. This was what he’d asked for.

The only word he could think up right now was, Feral.

“I can’t stop thinking about the way you moaned,” he said, almost dazed. “The exact pitch. I could graph the sound waves if I wanted to.” He chuckled, but it wasn’t amused—it was unhinged. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve come just thinking about you in that skirt you wore to the Gideon briefing?”

You raised an eyebrow, sliding your bra strap up your shoulder slowly. “You're such a perv, Doctor Reid.”

His eyes flashed.

“And you like that.”

You did.

He lunged forward, pulling you onto his lap like he was starving again. “You fucked your way up to the top?” he growled against your throat. “Fine. Then fuck your way through me. Let me be the price you pay to keep it.”

As you pulled your heels back on and sat up slowly, you finally glanced at him—his face wrecked, begging in that silent, desperate way. But there was no tenderness, no softness in your eyes. You were a different version of yourself now. The one who wasn’t affected by him, the one who wasn’t obsessed.

“You’re not going to come, Spencer,” you said, voice cold as ice. “You’re not even worth it.”

You turned toward the door, one last look over your shoulder. “Next time, maybe don’t get so obsessed with the idea of me. It’ll save you some embarrassment.”

And then you left.

The door clicked shut behind you.

Spencer lay there, panting, still twitching, completely fucked.

But you were already gone. And you didn’t look back.