#mercy fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mercy-burning · 26 days ago

Text

A Study in Anchored Souls

Pairing: ghost!Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: In which the ghost of Spencer Reid discovers that in order to unveil his unfinished business and finally lay at rest, he must somehow enlist the help of the woman who now inhabits his apartment. Category: MATURE (18+) Content: Strong language, mention of weed, ghost shenanigans (?), female masturbation, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), brief handjob, unprotected p in v sex, Spencer is invisible for all of that LMAO Word Count: 11.8k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: God, I love ghost smut. That was a goddamn blast to write! Like you don't even know how giddy it made me putting these words to the keys. I even put in extra effort and made a little photo banner, which I’ve never done for a one shot before, and I’m kinda obsessed with it ngl 😂 I hope you love this one as much as I do! <3 Written for @imagining-in-the-margins Autumn Air writing challenge!

———

ACT I: Girls' Night

Spencer Reid always knew he would die.

It was a cold, hard fact of life that at one point, everyone would die. It was unsure when or how, but it happened. There was no escaping it. That thought alone was enough to squander most of his anxieties about death— even after a few near-death experiences and the constant danger his line of work tended to throw at him throughout his lifetime.

Still, the one thing he couldn't stand to think about was the "after". He wanted truly to believe that what happened after death was just nothingness, but after his encounter with Tobias, it stirred up all sorts of questions and unexplainable possibilities that were just too vast for even his brain to try and comprehend.

Then, of course, there was the fact that he was currently standing in his old apartment, watching somebody else live her life, completely invisible to her. He tried talking to her, too, but nothing. It was like he wasn't even there.

But why? It's not like he had unfinished business or anything. The unsub who shot him was shot down immediately afterwards. He watched him die before passing out himself. Why was he "awake" now, nearly 5 months after the fact, and not when his friends were grieving him? Where were his friends, and why has the afterlife chosen to tie Spencer to a place rather than the people that knew and loved him?

Logically it seemed reasonable but really, he just missed his friends. He missed his life.

He hated the afterlife, he decided then. There was no reason he needed to keep doing this when he couldn't even leave the confines of the apartment. He couldn't walk through walls or touch anything or sit down on the woman's gross floral couch. If he wanted to enter another room, the door needed to be opened, otherwise he was stuck right there in the living room, the kitchen, and the open dining space that connected the two. If he was allowed to live his afterlife with his mom, or playing Chess with Gideon, or travelling the world, free to go anywhere and see anything without hardship, it might have been different.

But no. He was stuck watching this woman struggle to move furniture by herself.

He didn't know her. Had never seen her before. She wasn't a student of his or a victim he'd saved or even a fling. She was a complete stranger. A complete stranger who unfortunately had terrible taste in decor and an even more unfortunately beautiful face.

Her name was Y/N. From what he could gather, she didn't have any family, at least not nearby. Her two best friends were the only other people in her circle that he'd seen in the apartment, and when they were all together it was... interesting. There was a lot of loud laughter and wine, and oh God, the sex talk...

It felt intrusive, but he couldn't leave. He could migrate to another room, maybe, but his ears still worked, even a little too well. His eyes, too, seemed to be as sharp as ever, any imperfections to his vision completely mended. He was simply over aware of everything, and yet hollow at the same time, and he hated everything about it.

But what could he do? He couldn't even touch anything or communicate to anyone, so how could he possibly figure out what was keeping him here and how he could get out of it? Did his new roommate hold some sort of knowledge or ability to help him solve this mystery, or was he destined to watch her live out her life in this place that he once called "home"? Was there any connection between them at all?

He didn't know.

Usually he liked puzzles, but this one was rather annoying.

He just wanted to rest.

Y/N had been moved in for just over a month (yes, there was a whole month of just standing there learning everything about a stranger because there was simply nothing else for Spencer to do) when finally, there was a small glimmer of hope.

Heavy on the small.

It was Girls' Night. Friday. It always consisted of too much wine and movies and snacks and discussions about whatever they were reading or watching. Despite the differences in the routine, the camaraderie made Spencer miss his friends. He wondered what they were all up to. Maybe, if this all worked out, he could actually find out.

But for now, he had to focus on the baby steps.

When the girls showed up with a Ouija board, he couldn't help the incredulous laughter that escaped him.

Y/N, it seemed, felt the same disbelief. "You guys, what the fuck is that?"

"What does it look like?" the first friend, Maya, retorted.

The other, Robin, added, "You were the one that said you felt like you weren't tooootally aloooone in this apartment..."

Her haunting inflection elicited a backhanded thump to the arm, Y/N groaning as she closed the door behind her. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I would want to know what or who it is! Besides, I'm probably just paranoid. It's just being in a new place and the anxieties that come with it, that's all. You guys are insane."

"Only one way to find out!"

Was Spencer really going to entertain this? A goddamn Ouija board? He enjoyed his fair share of spooky things and researching superstitions, but that was out of his realm of belief. On the other hand, one could technically consider him a ghost... He could look down and see himself, but nobody else could see or hear him... Y/N had obviously voiced a concern for feeling a presence to her friends, but how much of that feeling was accurate and how much of it was, in fact, 'new home anxieties'?

As the girls unboxed the board and set up their things, Spencer sighed, mumbling to himself, "Only one way to find out..."

Maya closed the curtains and turned all the lights off, meanwhile Y/N and Robin were collecting and lighting any candle they could find. They cleared off the low coffee table in front of the couch where the girls sat and set everything up there, Spencer taking a seat on the floor opposite the group. It was then that Y/N said something that made him laugh.

"Wait, shouldn't we give the couch to the ghost?"

"What?"

"Well, what if it's an angry ghost? And then we make it sit on the floor, and it decides to exact vengeance on us? Maybe we should... I don't know, be more hospitable?"

"Hmmm, maybe you're right," Robin said, standing up. "Do you hear that, Ghost? We're only being nice to you, so please don't kill us, m'kay?"

Spencer sighed. Little did they know, he couldn't actually sit on the couch. Or a chair. Or anything that wasn't the floor. It was like the ground was the only physical thing he was anchored to. Still, the girls had no way of knowing that, so they shuffled their way to the other end of the table, flipping the Ouija board so it would face the other way. Spencer got up and moved then. He'd have to stand uncomfortably in the small gap between the table and the couch, bending down at the waist to use the board, provided he could even touch it.

He had no idea how this was going to work, if at all.

It was all starting to sound and feel absolutely ridiculous.

The girls each put a finger on the planchette, nervous laughter emanating from them, and Spencer gave one last deep breath before reaching out to touch it himself, anticipating the moment of truth.

His hand hovered over the board, feeling a block just before he would make any contact. He couldn't touch it. His hand wouldn't even go through. He retreated and huffed, wondering if there was something he could do to communicate with them otherwise. He tried to blow out one of the candles, but with no luck. He could feel his breath against his own skin (could you even call it that at this stage?), but the objects in front of him were completely oblivious to his presence.

He was about to give up and call it a night, leaving the girls to have their fun, but then one of them gasped.

"Wait, don't we have to use two fingers? Is that how it works?"

"Shit, I think you're right."

They adjusted their positions and Spencer sighed, but indulged them just in case.

His hand lowered again, middle and pointer fingers approaching the planchette in anticipation. He half-expected there to be resistance again, but this time, a cool rush of wind gusted up in between them as his fingers made contact with the wood.

"Holy shit!" all four of them exclaimed in unison.

"Did you feel that?" Maya squealed excitedly. "Wicked..."

"No, not wicked!" Y/N whined. "We should stop!"

"Really? You know for sure now that there's a ghost living in your apartment, and you're just not going to ask it questions to make sure it's not harmful? Be smart about this, bitch," Robin countered playfully.

Spencer wanted to cut to the chase. He moved his hand, spelling out a word, and the girls collectively gasped before reciting each letter out loud hesitantly, like they couldn't believe what was happening.

"H-A-R-M-L-E-S-S"

"Oh my God! You have a Casper!"

Y/N shook her head furiously. "You guys, stop fucking with me, I mean it. This isn't funny."

"I didn't move it!" said Robin.

"Me either," said Maya. "Besides, you felt that wind right? How could either of us have done that?"

"I don't know, because you're a fucking wizard or something! Cut it out!"

"Hey, if you didn't want to do it that badly, you would have taken your hand off the planchette... Hey, Ghost, have you ever seen Y/N naked?"

"Robin!"

Maya cackled and Y/N went pale. If he wasn't already dead, Spencer would have probably gone pale as well.

The truth was, he had. Seen her naked, that is.

He wasn't proud of it. It happened by total accident. Sort of. He was following her around the apartment all day because he was bored, and he'd ended up locked in her bedroom with her. Either he was truly horrible at reading people (which seemed impossible considering his profession) or she had just gotten a random spurt of excitement, because the moment her door closed, she whipped her shirt off, exposing her bare torso to him, and he couldn't move. He was frozen, completely shocked at the sight before him. She reached down to take off her pants, and he turned around then, quickly becoming aware of the situation.

She rustled behind him and he tried desperately to walk through the door. Any time he got close, the barrier would stop him. He couldn't do anything but stand in the corner and pray to whatever that she was only changing.

She was, in fact, not changing.

Spencer swore in that moment at the table that he could still hear the low hum of her vibrator and every single sound that came from her body and mouth that night, and he was absolutely mortified.

He'd only dared to glance back when he heard the end, her breathing slow and the humming gone. It was silent for a while before he turned around entirely, only to find her asleep, sprawled completely bare over the covers. He wished he could have draped a blanket over her, but his hands were more or less tied.

Thankfully she was only asleep for about a half hour before she forced herself awake to clean up and actually go to bed.

Spencer never followed her around the apartment ever again. Just in case.

"Don't answer that, Ghost," Y/N rushed, "Robin's just fucking around. We promise to ask you serious questions from here on out."

Maya faked a snore. "Come on, Y/N, this is supposed to be fun. The ghost is harmless."

"No, the ghost said it was harmless. Doesn't mean it is."

Spencer thought for a moment as the girls went back and forth, and then he spelled out another word— or an acronym, rather.

"It's moving again!" Robin gasped, spelling out the letters.

"F-B-I"

"Holy shit did you work for the FBI, Ghost?" Maya inquired.

Spencer moved the planchette to the "YES" at the top of the board.

"Maybe... Maybe we should stop calling them Ghost..." Y/N took a shaky breath and closed her eyes for a brief moment before nodding. "Ummm... Spirit Who Resides Here..." Robin and Maya snorted. "What is your name?"

Spencer wished he could tell her she didn't need to be formal, but it was amusing watching her do it anyway. He spelled out his name, first and last, and the girls made a collective hum of acceptance. A normal name and not something concerning.

"We should Google him," Robin said matter-of-factly.

Maya hummed in agreement, but Y/N swallowed and asked another question. "Spencer, you're not... Going to hurt me, are you?"

He moved the planchette to "NO," and watched the relief take over her body, relaxing her muscles and her posture for just a brief moment. He could tell she was still wary, but it was a step in the right direction.

"See? Told you he was harmless."

"He still could be lying," Y/N mumbled. Then she sat up straight. "Not that I don't believe you, Spencer. I'm sorry. You just have to understand that I'm a woman living alone, and the thought of a man I can't see haunting my apartment is just... It's extremely terrifying."

He felt bad for her. As annoying as his situation was, he couldn't imagine being in hers. He almost wished he hadn't entertained the Ouija board at all and put her worries to rest, but since it was too late, all he could do was try and reassure her that he wasn't a threat.

His fingers moved again.

"U-N-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D"

And then a pause, before: "S-O-R-R-Y"

Y/N's eyes dropped, and her friends made a collective "Awwwww," before a knock sounded at the door, jolting them all to move away from the Ouija board.

Spencer was knocked backwards, and he expected his newfound sense of touch to disappear once the connection had broken, but to his surprise, he found himself safely seated on the couch. His hands reached over the fabric, testing, and despite his distaste for the floral pattern on it, the cushions were suddenly the greatest thing he'd ever touched. He was grateful for this couch. And for the Ouija board, and for Y/N and her eccentric friends.

Speaking of which, Robin yelled out, "Pizza's here!" and got up with Maya to abandon the board. Pizza apparently seemed more interesting than a ghost, but for two women who Spencer could now tell (no thanks to his upgraded sense of smell) were a little high, that seemed reasonable.

As her friends happily greeted the pizza delivery man, Y/N reached out to touch the planchette again, just for a moment, and gently whispered, "Thank you, Spencer."

He returned it with an earnest, "You're welcome," but he wasn't sure if she'd hear or not. She looked around the area for a few seconds before turning around, and it wasn't clear whether she had.

But she seemed relaxed now, and that was a start.

As the girls sat at the dining table and ate pizza, Spencer tested out his new senses just a few steps away. He found himself thankful to be in a familiar place, even if the decor was different. The walls were the same and the bookshelves still stood, now filled with bright Romance novels and trinkets and photos that laid out Y/N's personality quite perfectly. He smiled, running his fingers along the spines of the books, missing the feeling even if they weren't his own.

He wanted to see if he could read one, just for the sake of feeling a book in his hands again, but he figured he'd wait until Maya and Robin were gone and Y/N was asleep.

Until then, he continued to touch things without making them move, not wanting to raise anyone's eyebrows.

And then, a gasp sounded from the dining table.

"I found him! I have his obituary right here!"

"Holy shit, let me see!"

Spencer made his way to the table to observe.

The girls passed around Maya's phone, looking at his obituary photo. Robin made a low whistle, then called out into the air on her left. He was standing to her right, unable to help the dry laughter that escaped him at the irony of the situation.

"Spencer, you were hot!"

Maya shook her head and sighed. "Yeah. What a damn shame. Sorry, man."

Robin seemed more amused than anything, turning to Y/N, who was reading through the obituary. "Hey, at least you can rest easy knowing you've got a hot FBI ghost watching over you."

"Yeah, but... Why? Do you think he lived here? In this apartment?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should ask him."

Y/N sighed, handing Maya her phone back. "I'm sure he has more exciting ghost stuff to do on a Friday night than entertain us three. All I know is he promised not to hurt me, so I don't really care if he stays."

He was glad for her ease of anxiety, but he certainly cared if he stayed. However, she sounded exhausted, and it was fair. Finding out your new apartment was haunted by a ghost (even a harmless one) sounded like a reasonably stressful situation. He wanted desperately to figure out how to finally move on, but for now he could accept the simple fact that he could actually touch things now, and let Y/N rest easy.

Even if he couldn't yet.

ACT II: X's and Oh's

Every time she came home, Y/N would greet Spencer kindly. Probably out of precaution (you know, just in case he really was lying about being harmless), but brightly all the same.

"Spencer, I'm home! I... I don't know if you're haunting me or the apartment, but... I hope you had a good day, just in case it's me."

He smiled, wishing he could greet her back.

Eventually, he found small ways to do it.

He fogged up a spot on her bathroom mirror, that way the next time she showered before bed, the heat would reveal a message on the glass: "Good night. —S.R."

Y/N talked to him that night, dressed in her pajamas and walking around the apartment like she was deciding where to talk to him. Eventually she decided on standing in her bedroom doorway.

"Spencer? You said good night so you might not even be in here, but... I guess this is me saying good night back...Thanks for being a nice ghost, I really appreciate it. If... If there's anything I can do for you, let me know, okay? Okay... Goodnight."

If only there was a way she could hear him. Communicating in mirror-notes was hardly good for anything more than a simple "good night," and despite the fact that he could touch things, he couldn't grip them, so writing on paper was out. He'd kept trying to open a door with the handle, and with no luck. It was starting to get irritating, wondering what the next step was to evolving as a ghost.

He couldn't even believe he'd thought up the phrase. Ghost evolution sounded absolutely insane, but he supposed it was his current reality regardless of how it sounded...

Tonight Y/N was out rather late. For a brief moment Spencer started to worry, but then the key turned in the doorway and relief settled in when she finally stepped inside. She seemed rather tired, but greeted him with a gentle smile all the same.

"Hi, Spencer."

"Welcome home, Y/N."

She didn't hear him, obviously, but it still felt rude not to say it back. He wondered if he could try to touch her in greeting. Maybe a brief brushing of hands or a tap of acknowledgement on the shoulder. But he didn't want to scare her, so he'd have to figure that out.

Thankfully, she seemed to have felt his curiosity somehow.

Later that night, as she laid in bed, she called out, drawing his attention from the living room where he tried to open a cabinet. Still no luck there.

"Spencer? Are you there?"

He wandered over to the bedroom, glad to see she'd left the door cracked open so he could get in. He hesitated before moving, hoping she wouldn't freak out when she saw the door open.

When he did finally gather the courage to move the barrier and step inside, he heard her gasp as she sat up in bed.

"Spencer? Was that you? Um... Move the door again if it was..."

He obliged, swinging the door shut gently as he stepped inside the room. The second the door clicked, he realized his mistake.

Now he was trapped in here with her. Not that it was a bad thing necessarily, but the last time this happened, he'd accidentally intruded on a rather intimate moment. His essence warmed at the thought.

"Holy shit. Um... This is kind of weird... I've gotten your notes and talked to you through the Ouija board, but... seeing you move things in front of me is... only slightly terrifying."

Her nervous laughter endeared him but also made him want to comfort her.

He walked over to the side of the bed closest to her body, hoping she'd be willing to communicate more thoroughly somehow. The two of them together could surely come up with something.

Again, their brains seemed to be on the same wavelength.

"If I hold out my hand... Would you touch it? Just to... let me know that it's you?"

Her arm outstretched, and Spencer slowly brought his middle finger down to touch hers, ever so lightly.

The second there was contact, there was a shock. Spencer jolted and Y/N yelled and yanked her hand back, her whole body shuddering as she kicked her legs. "Oh my God, holy fuck!" And then she laughed, reaching out to search for his touch again. He felt... different somehow, but he was still invisible to her. Her fingers wiggled and Spencer helped her out, gently holding her hand to keep it steady, as if to convey, "I'm right here, and it's okay."

"Hi," she said through a smile, her breathing heavy. "It's... Nice to... finally meet you. Kind of. Kind of meet you, I mean... Not kind of nice. I'm sorry."

He rubbed his thumb gently over the top of hers in response.

"I'm still wrapping my head around this whole thing, I... I guess I just wanted some extra confirmation that you were really here. Can I ask you some questions, Spencer?"

He rubbed her thumb again, and she breathed out with a smile.

"Okay um... Maybe draw a circle on the back of my hand for yes and an X for no... That sound good?"

Spencer traced a circle against her skin, and she nodded. "Good! Okay, cool. This is cool. Um... Did you live here? In this apartment?"

A circle.

"Is... that why you're here now?"

An X, and then a question mark.

"No... You don't know why you're here then?"

A circle.

Y/N pondered for a moment. "Could there be something of yours that's holding you here? Something we have to find or a mystery we have to solve?"

Spencer drew another question mark, then sighed. As much as he liked Y/N, he was pretty sure she would not be able to answer any of those questions. But there had to be another way to... level up, so to speak. To make him visible or audible.

"I'm sorry," she said somberly. "From what I've read, you seem like you were a good person. I hope you figure it out, whatever it is. And... I meant it. If there's anything I can do to help you, I will."

He drew a circle on her skin, but kept going around a few times, his symbol of appreciation.

Y/N warmed at the sentiment, smiling and hanging her head to look down at the hand he was holding. He didn't know it, but her skin was tingling at his invisible touch.

"Spencer... I know this is probably going to be weird... But the night I first met you, when my friends were with me... Robin asked you if... you'd uh... If you'd seen me..."

She wouldn't look up, like she was afraid to look at him even though she still couldn't see him. She didn't finish her sentence, seeming to be embarrassed about the punchline, but Spencer didn't need it. He knew exactly what she meant. Before she had time to retreat or move on, he drew a slow circle on the back of her hand.

Her head lifted. "You did see me? Naked?"

Spencer let out a shaky breath. Hesitated. Then drew another circle, followed by S-O-R-R-Y.

"Oh, I'm not upset, I promise. You don't have to be sorry."

Something shifted in her eyes then and she paused, and Spencer realized that before when she'd asked, she wasn't embarrassed. She was simply feeling the water before diving in.

He swallowed hard.

"Did you like what you saw?"

Her voice was soft, but simultaneously hard with mischief. He looked at her then— truly looked at her with his overly-perfect Afterlife vision, and even in the dim light emanating from the open curtains and the streetlights beyond it, he could see her clear as day. Rather than the big tee-shirt she always wore to bed, tonight she was wearing something lacy and lavender.

And her door was closed. He couldn't leave this room.

Although, he had a feeling right then that it didn't matter anymore. Because his hand tightened over hers instinctively and he felt himself get hard beneath the suit pants he'd been buried in.

That's new, he thought through a sigh of excitement, quickly recalling that night he'd seen her. And heard her. Feeling was growing in his joints, and he found himself flexing his hands with a new strength he hadn't felt since being alive.

"Fuck," he hissed, shaking his head in disbelief.

I think she may be slowly bringing me back to life.

He drew a slow, sensual circle on the back of her hand, and she laughed through a grin. "I was hoping you'd say that. I was also hoping that maybe we could try something a little... unconventional. The truth is, I've always hated living alone. It's too lonely, and I hate it... Now that I have you to keep me company, though... It's not nearly as bad."

She shifted her fingers, grabbing his hand and slowly bringing it to her face. Spencer caressed her as he came closer, his knees now touching the edge of her mattress. She closed her eyes and reveled in his touch, goosebumps forming along her skin.

"Will you touch me, Spencer?"

His name falling suggestively from her lips was quite possibly the greatest thing he'd ever experienced, among life and death. The afterlife. Whatever. None of it mattered, nothing mattered right then except for Y/N and her needs.

He drew a circle on her cheek and she laughed, the sound dissolving into a rather wanton sigh when he traced his middle finger down her jaw and over her throat. Just the gentlest of touches, barely even a touch at all.

"You want this just as bad as I do, don't you?" she asked, lolling her head to the side as his finger traced her collarbone and then her shoulder.

"I do." He focused on the way her chest heaved, slowly up and down as she melted into his touch, and then traced the strap of her nightgown until he reached the front, just at the curve of her breasts.

Y/N arched her back and pulled the covers away from her body, revealing herself to him in full as she got comfortable. She scooted and leaned back against the headboard, pulling Spencer along the side of the bed. He gladly followed.

"I give you permission to touch me in any way you see fit, okay? I... I want you to do whatever feels good to you. How does that sound?"

At the invitation, he quickly let his mind wander to extremely filthy places and wondered if he had the ability to taste again...

The thought alone made him twitch beneath his pants, and suddenly there was no going back.

He let out a long breath and touched the bottom hem of her nightgown. It was already short to begin with, but since she'd moved around in bed and her feet were flat, knees pointed upward, the fabric rode up to the very tops of her thighs. He drew another continuous circle right there, just below where it ended, and Y/N instinctively started to spread her knees apart.

Spencer stopped her, gripping one knee and spelling out W-A-I-T before slipping his shoes and jacket off. She arched an eyebrow, confused at first, but then looked down to the floor when she heard his shoes being kicked back and his clothing falling there.

And then, when he was ready, she looked back to the bed in front of her as Spencer climbed and knelt, positioning himself in front of her. Her eyes watched the mattress move, and a flicker of excitement danced over her features, amusing him.

He placed his hands on her knees, and even though she'd given him permission, he asked anyway, drawing a question mark against her skin.

She nodded. "Please."

Slowly, his hands pulled her legs apart. He drew it out as long as he possibly could, curious to know how long he could test her anticipation threshold. He still planned to give her everything she wanted, of course, but there was something oddly erotic about being touched by somebody you couldn't see that she was obviously keen to explore. So he would take his time until she begged him otherwise.

Sure enough, her stare was laser-focused on her body as he moved it to his liking, her breath hitching once her legs were far enough apart for him to realize she wasn't wearing anything underneath her nightgown and he paused. Already she was glistening with arousal, a sight that nearly made Spencer go completely slack.

"How long have you wanted this..." he wondered aloud, overwhelmed and in awe as his hands traveled firmly down her inner thighs. She squirmed under his bold touch, and leaned her head back against the headboard with a soft thud.

"Please," she whimpered, her hands reaching out to grip whatever bunched up fabric she could find on the bed.

He had planned to test the waters a little longer, ever so the scientist at heart, but figured that was as good of a plea as any to give in and finally give her what she wanted.

And so, Spencer ran a gentle, steady hand down through her heat, dragging his middle finger along the seam until he barely entered her, then came back up.

The long, desperate moan that Y/N drew out was like Heaven to his ears, and he'd never been more grateful for his heightened senses than in that moment. Every breath she took, every gloriously wet sound her body made as he explored her, every rustle of her hands through the sheets... All of it was sharp and crisp, and no other symphony had ever sounded so beautiful.

He wanted more of it.

One finger became two, and Spencer looked up to watch her face as he fingered her slowly. Parted lips and focused eyes fighting to stay open despite the pleasure she was feeling made for quite the perfect view, he almost didn't want to look away. But there was so much to beauty see between her soft facial features and the curves of her body and the obvious arousing sight below him. It was overwhelming how hot he felt in that moment, he could have sworn he was glowing.

His pace quickened, and Y/N had finally given into the temptation to close her yes, her head falling back again as she rolled her hips. He was getting impatient now.

With his other hand, against the inside of her thigh, Spencer spelled out "T-A-S-T-E-?"

"Oh, God, please. Yes."

Still hesitant to scare her even though his fingers were already deep inside her, rather than diving in as he so desperately wanted to, he slowly brought his head down to meet the area between her legs. He turned to press his cheek to the soft flesh of her thigh, and she gasped, the sound fading to a low laugh as she took in the feeling of his mouth and his hair caressing her skin. He kissed her then, tentatively darting his tongue out to taste her and sighing with relief once he realized he could actually taste again. Once he had that revelation, there was no going back. He was a man starved, his kisses growing more hungry as they traveled up and up and up...

Once his tongue made curious contact with the hood of her clit, Y/N gasped again, clutching her bed sheets and rolling her hips up to meet him. Spencer groaned, and a selfish part of him wished she could hear it. He wanted her to know just how crazy she was driving him, how much he wanted her. She could certainly feel it, her reaction to the vibrations causing her muscles to flex and her toes to curl, and he decided then that it would have to do. He was just going to have to make her feel his desire so deeply that it rattled in her bones and lingered there for the rest of eternity. He wanted to ruin everybody else for her, to stay with her until the end of time.

She reached and felt around for his head, fingers threading through invisible curls as she cried out.

"Spencer, you're so— so good..."

He hummed his approval at the praise and continued to work her, adding a third finger and sucking on her clit to feel her fingers tugging at his scalp. The sensation alone had him nearly lightheaded, and he wanted to stay there forever, lost in her taste and her touch and her noises.

God, her noises...

She sighed and whined, and stretched and squelched around his fingers, and he was convinced that had he not already been dead, he would have begged whoever was listening to keep him alive just to experience her forever.

The second she struggled to keep her legs open, trapping his head between them, he knew she was quickly approaching her orgasm, and he couldn't wait. He'd heard her climax before, but being right there as it was happening felt like a privilege he would always be grateful for. He wanted to replicate everything he'd heard that night and get to feel it, too— get to be the one to make her feel that way.

"Fuck, don't stop, I'm s— so close..."

Spencer groaned into her as if to say, "I know, I can feel you." Oh, how he wished he could talk her through it, to tease her with his words... Alas, he had no choice but to encourage her with his actions, so he used his free hand to search for one of hers. She gave up her hand to lace their fingers together, and his thumb continued to draw mindless circles into her skin as she clenched and released, over and over again until she was coming.

"Spencer!" she cried to the air, over and over again as if she could will him into existence again. It was a desperate plea, a manifestation, and the both of them secretly hoped that it would work.

She wanted to see him

He wanted her to see him, too.

He felt her climax subside, and then he slowly eased his fingers out of her and trailed his tongue down to keep tasting. A part of him was scared to realize he might not actually be visible like he hoped, but he pushed the potential disappointment aside and luxuriated in the way she tasted. He delved in and gripped the underside of her thighs to keep them steady, and with a delighted groan as he pushed his tongue inside, Y/N gasped.

"Fuck, I can hear you..."

The words excited him greatly.

"Thank God."

Spencer kissed her, tasted her until she was writhing and begging him to stop.

"Please, Spencer, kiss me."

He pulled away and looked up at her, smiling even though she still couldn't see him. "I am kissing you," he replied, pressing his lips to her thigh.

"You know what I mean. Come here..."

He laughed and obliged, kissing his way up her legs and crawling up her body. He slowly dragged his hands up her stomach, bunching up her nightgown and sliding it up her body the farther he got. Her eyes watched in allure as the fabric rode up and up and up, seemingly on its own. But she knew better, she knew who was undressing her and worshipping her, and it made her squirm.

She lifted her arms over her head and let him take the clothing off, revealing her chest to the chilly air. She watched as the fabric flew to the ground, and then felt Spencer's hands return to her skin, gentle fingers raising goosebumps all over. Her nipples pinched and hardened the closer he got to them, and soon enough he was palming her breasts as he pressed his forehead to hers, wedging his body between her legs.

"Kiss me," she breathed, feeling his nose touch hers. His breath was hot against her own, and her eyes fluttered shut. "Please..."

"Anything for you, sweet girl..."

She sighed as his mouth finally collided with her own, the heady and prominent taste of her arousal growing stronger the deeper he kissed her. Their bodies couldn't stop moving, wandering hands and urgent hips, and with his newfound ability to speak to her, Spencer spoke in gentle praises. He sighed out her name reverently, telling her how good and sweet and perfect she was, and she returned every word with a whimper, in awe that he was really there. He was becoming more and more present, and she couldn't get enough.

"I want to feel you," she said against his lips, dragging her hand down his invisible chest. She fingered through every button of his shirt until it was loose and open, and the cool hum of his skin as she explored his torso made her hands numb.

Spencer kissed her jaw and groaned, feeling himself throb at her words. "Let me help..."

He grabbed her hand and guided her to the bulge in his pants, even though she could have just as easily stumbled onto it herself. The intimacy of it all was almost overwhelming, so much so that when her grip tightened softly on his clothed erection, Spencer almost came undone right then and there.

"Fuck, Y/N... I'd say you're going to be the death of me, but..."

They laughed together until she kissed him again, deeply and with a sigh. "You're becoming more and more real, but... this feels like... it feels like a dream."

He understood what she meant, and it filled him with a tinge of sadness, but her hand slowly palming him was becoming harder and harder to ignore. He gripped her wrist and his breath hitched in her ear as he nipped at it.

"Trust me, sweetheart... I am very real."

She shuddered at his words and squeezed him tighter before fumbling for his belt.

"Spencer... Do you think..." Her hands successfully undid the confines of his pants and started to slide them down over his hips, trying not to mess up her words as he sucked marks into her neck. "Do you think that if you fuck me... I'll finally be able to see you?"

"Mmm, God, I hope so," he groaned earnestly, repositioning themselves so he could kick off his pants and rest her head on the pillow. She let him take the lead, her breath getting heavier with anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs and grabbed her wrist. Once again, he was guiding her hand to his cock, hard and, this time, bare. She cursed under her breath as she gripped him and he helped her languidly stroke himself in exploration. His fingers were strong over hers, and he applied just the right amount of pressure to draw out a groan from the both of them.

"Please," she sighed out desperately through shallow breaths. "Spencer, please, I need you..."

How could he resist?

He didn't even want to entertain the thought of trying.

"Then let me take care of you, sweet girl," he cooed, hiking her thighs to rest over his hips and slowly sinking into her with ease.

Once he was all the way in, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, comforting her through the low burn. He slowly rolled his hips forward as she cried out his name, her fingers coming up to grip his shoulders. "You feel that?" he whispered into her skin. "How perfectly I fit inside you? It's like you were made for me..."

"Uh-huh," she stuttered in agreement.

He stopped teasing her then, pulling back to start fucking her nice and slow as she adjusted to him. Her fingers curled and knotted into the loose material of his shirt. She would have slid it off of him, but the grip on something steady was nice as she let him focus on his ministrations. He seemed to be doing just fine with the shirt on, anyway, and it was hard to even think about anything other than how good he felt.

She wondered then, as he picked up momentum and started peppering kisses down her jawline, what she looked like to the night. If she were standing there, outside her own body, watching herself being thoroughly and beautifully wrecked by something invisible and obviously enjoying every second...

Her eyes rolled back at the image, just as Spencer started going harder. His hips snapped into hers with a strength and precision that felt like it was rattling worlds. It very well could have been, and neither of them had any mind to care; They were so intensively intertwined with each other that it was a different world entirely.

They started to burn hot, that familiar warm chill of impending pleasure creeping up through their bodies and setting them alight. Y/N snaked her arms up to Spencer's neck and brought him down for a searing kiss as she melted into him, and he returned it with a fervor that elicited the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He felt it all the way in his bones, felt the waves of pleasure start to drag him under as she squeezed him with her limbs and started to come undone herself.

The atmosphere around them was purely electrifying, bright snaps of skin and sharp whispers of mouth combining to brew a perfect storm that nothing would ever survive. It was wild and unconstrained, glimmering and grand, and in their wake, the two entities left their desire lingering in the air for the dead of night to stew in for as long as it would allow.

Spencer collapsed on top of her with a hefty sigh, and he was grateful to be able to finally share his voice with her. The mystery and simplicity of the X's and O's were fun to indulge in at first, but now that they'd grown closer and created something beautiful and memorable together, he had to tell her exactly how he felt— no symbols, no mysteries...

He kissed her softly and pulled back to look into her eyes, dragging a thumb over her cheekbone as he told her the truth.

"You're perfect."

Her eyes went wide, welling with tears as she reached up and ran a finger softly along the bridge of his nose.

"You're beautiful."

Relief and something else—something warm—stirred in Spencer's chest at the confirmation that she could finally see him, and that she was moved by what she saw. Who she saw...

He couldn't help the smile that adorned his face, and the soft joyous laughter that escaped him as she continued to explore his features with the pads of her fingertips, like she was trying to memorize him from touch alone in case he suddenly disappeared again.

"I mean it, Spencer, you're... even more beautiful than I imagined."

"You imagined me?" he inquired rather suggestively.

With a laugh, she brought him down for a slow, searing kiss. "Duh..."

Even though they were tired, they stayed like that for hours, kissing and exploring and sighing until the sweet lull of sleep took hold and carried them through the night.

For a solid few hours until he awoke, Spencer completely forgot that he wasn't alive.

ACT III: Unfinished Business

Y/N had never done so much research in her entire life. She liked Spencer, and she was more than happy to help him out, but man... Reading dozens of articles and textbooks and blogs about the different types of spirits and how to lay them to rest was a long, exhausting road that led pretty much nowhere. There was no way to know what type of ghost Spencer was or how to help him move on, not that she could see, anyway. She didn't know if he'd age with her, or be 'undead' long enough to become vicious and bitter like a lot of the spirits she read about, and Spencer's research was just about as inconclusive as her own.

A selfish part of her hoped she'd never find out, to keep him around forever... But she also knew that wasn't fair to him. No matter how lonely she was or how much fun they had and how they enjoyed each other's company, well... The fact of the matter was, he was dead.

And he deserved to rest.

In the meantime, in the hours between headache-inducing frustration at the lack of answers, Spencer told her about his life. His friends, mostly— the best people he'd ever known. The way he described them, she had a feeling that they might hold the key to his dilemma. If not directly, perhaps there was something about him that they knew, something that might give Y/N some insight into his ghostly purpose, so to speak. Not that she couldn't ask Spencer directly, but they'd already discussed a lot of back-and-forth on enemies and people that could have wanted to harm him, all of which were surefire impossibilities. Not to mention the fact that he seemed tied to this apartment and not anything else. Maybe that didn't have anything to do with it, but neither of them knew.

It was the only other option she had.

They laid next to each other in her bed, her head laying on his chest. Her ear warmed gently, and tried as she might to hear a heartbeat, all she could hear was a faint white noise, almost like he was merely a figure of tangible energy rather than a body. She supposed that was technically what he was, but as much as she'd grown to know and like Spencer, it was hard to think of him that way. It was... sad to think of him that way.

She frowned and nestled into him, trying to push away that petulant nagging in the depths of her soul that screamed "This isn't fair!" and she told him the most difficult thing she'd ever had the courage to push past her lips.

"I think I have an idea... You can say no if you think it's too weird, but... It might help you. Maybe."

"Mmm, what's that?" he responded, curious but not audibly hopeful. It made Y/N even more sad to think he probably figured he'd never find peace.

"What if I go talk to your friends? Do you think they might know something you don't?"

There was a beat of silence before she felt his chest heave with gentle laughter. "Derek Morgan definitely wouldn't think so..."

Recalling some of the funny stories he'd told her about him, she smiled. Still, she pressed. "I mean it. What other outlets do we have? Where else is there to look? If there's anyone who knows you better than anyone else, wouldn't it be them?"

Spencer sighed, giving it a thought. His fingers raked through her hair and massaged her scalp to the point of gentle, comforting numbness, another one of those domestic moments that had her feeling absolutely conflicted.

And then, he said, "Actually... I think I know exactly who you should talk to..."

———

There was a deep chill in her bones as she approached Penelope Garcia's apartment building, but not because of the lively, rustling October wind. In fact, she wanted to throw up at the thought of having this conversation. But not because she didn't want to help Spencer. She did, more than anything.

She was just afraid of being arrested.

Spencer assured her that it would be fine and that Penelope was harmless, and while the latter she could believe, it still nerved her to wander up to a woman's door and announce that she lived in the apartment of her beloved dead co-worker and needed to help him fulfill his destiny as a spirit. It sounded like a cruel joke.

"If anyone would believe you, it would be Penelope," he'd said, comforting her with a pat on the shoulder.

Maybe it was true, but she didn't want to find out if it wasn't. It was one thing to have the door slammed in your face by a grief-stricken loved one, but a grief-stricken loved one who worked for the fucking FBI was ten times worse; There were a lot more horrifying outcomes that came with that combination.

Still, she trusted Spencer on a level she'd barely trusted anyone else, and he wasn't even alive for God's sake... So she strapped on her boots, threw on her most comfortable jacket, and braced the wind and whatever fate blew with it.

For Spencer.

"For Spencer," she muttered under her breath as she rapped on the door. Three times. Third time's the charm, three's a crowd, three clicks of the heel and you're home... Three seemed like a lucky number. Three was inviting, friendly, not intended to inflict emotional damage.

Please, God, don't let her hate me, Y/N prayed to whoever was listening. Don't let this go horribly wrong.

A bright voice was yelling beyond the door, and with every millisecond that it got louder and closer, her heart started to beat faster. Blood thrummed in her ears, and she kept repeating, "For Spencer, for Spencer, for Spencer," on a loop to remind her why she was going through all this anxiety.

The voice got closer, but still muffled, until the door swung open. Then it stopped altogether. Y/N blinked and stood there with a stiff back and sweaty palms, in front of Penelope Garcia. The woman was obviously expecting somebody else to be at the door, but she didn't look disappointed, just confused.

"Oh. You're not Luke. How can I help you?"

"Um... My name is Y/N. I... Before I tell you why I'm here, I need you to know that I'm not trying to play a trick on you, and I don't want to make you sad or upset, and if there's anything you need or want to know about me in order to trust me, then I'll gladly give you that information, but this is really important and I need you to know that I'm not crazy or harmful, I just want to help him."

Penelope's eyes went wide as she reached out and grabbed her hand. The thrumming in her ears got louder as she took a deep breath and waited for the yelling to start, her body to be thrown to the ground, or a sharp piercing sting of a backhand.

The only thing she felt, however, was a tug at her heart and the gentle dissipation of nerves as Penelope spoke one simple word.

"Spencer."

"How... How did you know?"

"Ever since he... Since he's been... I just knew something didn't feel right. Everyone told me that it was just grief, and for a while that's also what I told myself, but... That feeling was just too... Wait, who did you say you were again?"

Y/N stuttered her name and gripped Penelope's hand tighter, hoping to create some rapport. "I live in his apartment. He's been... Visiting me."

Something in her eyes softened and then saddened at the confirmation that her friend was somehow still among the living. "A visitor in his own home... Poor Boy Genius..."

She couldn't help but smile at the nickname. "He said you called him that often..."

Wide eyes welling with tears, Penelope nodded and tugged at her visitor's hand. "He was the smartest person I ever knew. Kindest, too. Here, come on inside, I'll make you some tea. Do you like tea? Maybe some hot chocolate?"

Her hospitality as she ushered her inside was both comforting and saddening to Y/N. It was in her nature to be that way to guests, even strangers, sure, but it also acted as a shield from the somber feelings she'd been rushed with at a moment's notice, no thanks to said stranger.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, Penelope," Y/N rushed as she shrugged her coat off. "You don't have to make me anything."

"Oh, I know I don't have to, but would you like something warm to drink?"

She was practically begging for the distraction, something to do with her hands as she had time to process and prepare for what was about to happen.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you."

"Perfect, I'll get it started. Make yourself comfortable, Sweets."

She carried her coat over her arms, holding it to her chest like a tether to reality. None of this felt real, even though she could still feel the warm glow of Spencer's energy all around her, like it had burrowed into the pores of her skin and made a home there.

As she looked around at Penelope's bright and colorful space, she thought about him... How often had he been here? What did they do together, and where did they hang out? She imagined the laughter and the stories and the cooking... She wished she would have known him then, been a part of his life. As scary as he told her it was at times, she knew there were also plenty of bright spots, and she knew Penelope was definitely one of the brightest.

Y/N smiled, hugging her coat tighter.

"I like your apartment," she complimented, sitting down at a small dining table in the corner.

"Thank you! I always told Spencer he should get some more color, but... What can I say, he really loved his neutrals."

The familiar detail brought a smile to her face. "That doesn't surprise me. He told me that even though he likes me, he really hates my floral couch and that it looked weird in his apartment. I told him he was boring." And, that technically, it was her apartment now. In fact, her exact words after the fact were, "What are you going to do, haunt me?" before they both laughed and continued making out on said couch.

But she didn't need to remind Penelope of the fact that he was gone. Or to inform her that she was intimately involved with his ghost.

Just the thought alone was enough to make the low, ever-present hum of his imprinted memory on her skin even more intense, and she smiled.

"Oh... I know that look."

Y/N looked up at Penelope, who was grinning with the most mischievous gleam in her eye.

"What look?"

"You think he's cute, don't you?"

"I... I don't..."

"Well, I suppose even if you can't see him, I'm sure he's charmed you anyway. And you probably Googled him."

"How did you—"

"It's what I would have done... So?" she prompted, still waiting for an answer of some kind.

Y/N sighed, defeated and impressed by Penelope's skills at quickly retrieving information. But she also didn't want to lie to her, so she had no choice but to answer her questions with the truth anyway. "Well, I can see him. But I couldn't at first. My um... My friends came over one night, and they brought a Ouija board. We used it for shits and giggles because I'd joked to them after I moved in that I didn't feel totally alone, and well..."

"It wasn't a joke?"

Penelope brought over the tea, steaming and aromatic. Y/N took it with a nod of thanks and sighed as she sat down across from her.

"No. But I didn't actually think I was living with a ghost, I mean... I didn't believe in that stuff. But I also wasn't going to risk pissing him off, so I tried to be nice to him. I only knew his name, and then my friends looked him up and we read his obituary, and... I don't know, I guess I just thought he seemed like a good person, so he deserved some kindness in the afterlife. I said hello to the air every time I came home from work, I yelled out a good night before going to bed... And then he started leaving me notes on my bathroom mirror, and I guess... I don't know, the more he and I got to know each other, the easier things became. Eventually he could touch things, and then soon after he was audible, then visible..."

She conveniently left out the details of that journey, though her skin warmed again at the memory.

"And now that we can communicate, it's become clear to me that he doesn't know where he's going— Why he's not at rest... I feel bad for him. He deserves..." Her breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard before looking down at the mug in her hand. "He deserves to move on."

Penelope was quiet for a moment as Y/N sipped her tea. Her hand reached out to grab hers, and the gesture almost had her in tears.

"You sound... Sad about that."

She couldn't help the pressure that pulsed behind her eyes, stabbing at her throat... Still, she made herself speak, barely above a whisper to prevent that inevitable cracking of the voice that would surely break the dam she was trying so hard to keep still and strong. "I... I know it sounds absolutely crazy..."

"You're falling in love with him."

Though the words didn't come from her own mouth, they came flying at her like a sucker punch to the gut. The wind was knocked out of her for a moment, until all she could do was exhale and let the tears fall silently as she nodded.

Penelope let her cry for a minute or two without a word while holding her hand, until she was ready to elaborate. "But I can't... I can't keep him here, it's not right. If he doesn't have any unfinished business, then he should be put to rest. And I... I don't know how to help him. I thought maybe, if I could talk to the people who knew him the best... I could get an idea."

"Oh, Honey, I... I'm sorry, but I don't know any more than you do." She was talking through tears herself, and Y/N squeezed her hand back. "His mother's been gone for years now, and there's no other family that he was close enough with to even consider, other than us, but... Truthfully I don't know if we really count in the grand scheme of things... I'd like to think that we do..."

"You might not be blood-related, but you were his family. He loved you so much, I could tell by the way he spoke about all of you. He... He misses you a lot. I just wish he didn't have to feel that loss anymore."

Penelope frowned. "I wish I could give you an answer... When you go back to him... Will you at least tell him that we love him?"

"He already knows. But yes. I will."

"And I'll keep on thinking. Whatever you need, you got it. I have access to pretty much everything so if there's information to be had, I will get my paws on it, and you will know. Thank you for coming to see me. And for telling me that Spencer's okay... He is okay, right?"

Y/N hesitated. She wasn't entirely sure how to answer without giving away their extra-curricular activities. "I think so. He's tired, I can tell. But I do my best to keep him happy. The last thing I need is to have him angrily haunting me."

Penelope laughed, then sighed. "Unfortunately, I think that means you better get rid of that glorious couch, then."

The laughter was a welcome break from the tears, which had already started to dry on her skin, leaving her cheeks itchy. "I really appreciate you being so kind, Penelope... Losing Spencer must have been absolutely impossible, and having a complete stranger show up at your door and pour salt in the wound... I couldn't imagine..."

"Y/N... If there was any person on this planet who could have moved into his apartment and helped him through this... I think I speak for the whole BAU when I say that he's lucky it's you."

The sentiment made her chest tight, and an involuntary pout tugged at her mouth. "You... You really mean that?"

Penelope laughed and squeezed her hand again. "Oh, Darling, you even pout like him... You're kind of perfect for each other."

"I don't know whether to be happy or sad about that," she replied through a fit of hysterics, and Penelope joined her.

It was clear then that these two women were meant to bond seamlessly over the loss of someone dear, one in life and the other in death. They were two sides of the same coin, a best friend and an anchor to the other side. It was a solace that neither of them had expected, but welcomed with open arms and warm understanding.

They exchanged stories and laughs and phone numbers and hugs, and joked about exchanging addresses, and a while later, just as Y/N was about to go home, fastening her coat, Penelope stopped her.

"Wait... I don't mean to make you sad or anything, and maybe this isn't the answer that either of you were looking for... But after today? If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Spencer's unfinished business is you."

The thought froze her entirely. It would stand to reason that they were meant to find each other, only to let each other go. Because, of course. Nobody was ever that lucky, especially neither Spencer nor his new roommate.

Sensing her overthinking, Penelope continued. "I know it's unfortunate given the circumstances, but... You did say that the more you got to know him, the more... alive he became. At least as alive as he can be. And I've only known you for about an hour, but I can confidently say that you are about as perfect for Spencer as somebody could be for anybody. And..."

She shifted on her feet, unsure of whether she should actually say what she was about to tell her, but obviously needing to make her point with as much context as possible. "You know, he's tried. He watched many of us find love and have families of our own, and he's always wanted that, but... He never got to have it. I think... that was the one thing that he always truly and completely wanted, especially after his mom passed and he had no one left but us... Somebody to go home to, somebody who understood him and cared about him and wanted to spend the rest of their lives with him... A soulmate. And... Y/N, I think it might be you."

Her head was swimming and tears were blurring her vision again. As much as she wanted to believe it, ever the lover of grand romantic endings, it didn't make sense. She didn't really believe in soulmates, did she? Then again, she didn't believe in ghosts, either, until recently...

"How could you possibly know that?" she whispered to Penelope, hoping for a switch in her brain to flip. She wanted to believe it. She wanted to dash home and confidently confess to the ghost living in her apartment that they were made for each other and that she could finally set him free.

And... Then what?

There had to be another explanation.

"I wish I could tell you how, definitively," Penelope answered sadly, "and like I said, I don't want to upset you... But it's just a feeling. And my feelings are hardly ever wrong. Hey, I mean I had a feeling that Spencer was still out there somehow, and that turned out to be true, right?"

"I... I guess," she sniffled.

"Just... Do me a favor, okay? Think about it. Spend tonight with him, like you normally do, and really really think about it. And tell me you don't feel it."

It almost sounded like a playful challenge rather than a request. Y/N wiped at her eyes and sighed. "You're really sure?"

"Positive."

Y/N wasn't really sure if she believed it still, but there was a conviction in Penelope's voice that was too sincere to ignore. And Spencer trusted her, which obviously meant a lot.

So, she promised that she would think about it anyway, bade her new friend farewell, and made her way outside, where the wind had died and left the streets lifeless and quiet.

———

Something was different about Y/N when she came home.

Spencer tried to let her go about the night and refrain from saying anything, but after regretfully informing him that Penelope had no wisdom to offer her about their situation but would get back to her if anything did come to mind, she was... odd. Perhaps she was just as tired as he was in trying to solve this mystery, or just tired in general. But he didn't want to push her if she didn't want to open up, so he did what he could and offered his company.

Still, she didn't seem right.

He thought maybe a flurry of warm, tender kisses along her skin would put her in high spirits, but the longer she let him worship her skin without so much as a sigh in return, it started to sink in that something was deeply wrong.

"Are you okay?" he asked sweetly, stroking her jaw with the back of his hand as he looked her in the eye. She looked at him for only a few seconds before averting her gaze, like if she allowed him to meet her eyes for any longer, he'd pull something from her that she'd rather not share. It sent a small wave of panic through him. "Y/N, talk to me, please... What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"No," she said unconvincingly.

"You don't... have to talk about it if you don't want to... But you're upset about something, and I want to help you. I'll do whatever you need me to. I'll listen, I'll leave you alone, I'll kiss it better... Whatever you want. It's yours."

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, defeated. "God, you FBI people are too good at getting information out of people, it's annoying."

Spencer laughed. "It wasn't my intention to make you feel interrogated. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm just... I'm..."

She couldn't seem to get out the words, like there was a frustrating lack of understanding how to convey them. He drew continuous circles gently into her palm and waited patiently for her to open up, silently promising that he would be there for her when she finally found the right words.

It was a question that she finally settled on. "Have you ever been in love? Like... Really in love?"

Something inside him jolted at the thought of where this conversation might lead. If he had a heartbeat, it would have raced and thrummed so heavily that the organ might have failed. In truth, he'd been thinking about it for a week or two now. Ever since the night he realized that his interactions with her were the key to becoming more sentient, the thought crossed his mind that perhaps she was the thing he was tethered to.

He didn't dare say it out loud, or to her face, because... Well, it was too soon, wasn't it? And it wouldn't have mattered anyway, because once he was lain to rest, they could never be together.

It was complicated.

"I think I was, a few times," he finally answered in earnest. "And to be fair, just because things didn't work out with them, it doesn't mean I didn't really love them. I did. But... I think deep down I knew they weren't really The One... Does that make sense?"

"I think so... I don't think I've ever been in love before. Even with long-term partners, we said the words, and I felt something that was happy and I thought was love, but..." She paused, avoiding his eye again before rapidly blinking back tears. "Now I feel this... this anchor to you that I can't let go of... I want to be around you all the time and I know it's not fair because you deserve to rest, but I can't help it. Spencer, I... You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm afraid that once I really admit it out loud, you'll be gone forever."

He knew, then, that this was it. Listening intently as she confessed, absorbing every word and allowing himself to feel and admit what he knew to be true for a while now, his body began to tingle. It was so dull at first, he almost mistook the feeling for 'butterflies'. It felt cruel not to tell her that he was starting to fade, but he didn't want to ruin the moment or panic her. He didn't want to tell her that she was running out of time. That they were running out of time.

So, instead, to try and ease the blow, he told her something sweet.

He told her, "I love you."

Her eyes glossed over at the confession. She reached urgently for his hands, her grip strong and willing like she knew what was going to happen. And maybe she did. Still, she sat there and listened to him, her eyes taking in every inch of his presence and committing him to memory.

He aimed to make it a memory she would never forget.

"I don't know when we'll see each other again, but I don't doubt that we will. Not for a second. And until then, my only wish is that you keep allowing yourself to fall in love. Don't be afraid of it. You shouldn't deny yourself just because I'm gone. Can you promise me that you'll try?"

Y/N blinked away tears and tugged at his hands. "What if I can't?"

"You will, my sweet girl. And I promise, I won't be mad at you."

She laughed despite herself, then almost cried again when she felt his presence start to fizzle and break in front of her eyes. She was desperate to hold on to him, clutching his hands for dear life and breathlessly whispering, "I love you, Spencer Reid," as if the conviction alone would be enough to keep him here. As if whatever cruel deity was putting them through this would see how much she needed him and decided to spare her the misery.

"I wish I could have known you when I was alive," he told her, leaning in closer. "Maybe we could have been neighbors."

She smiled through tears and pressed her forehead to his, the contact making her skin go numb. Silently she hoped that wherever he was going, she would be sucked in with him. "Then I would have invited you over for dinner."

He squeezed her hands, already feeling his grip fading, his essence nearly numbing him. Still, he willed himself to stay long enough to paint this life for the two of them—one they would never get to have, except only in dreams and perhaps in another life entirely. Anything was possible, after all.

"And I still would have made fun of your ugly couch."

"And I would have pushed you onto it and made you take it back."

"And I would have refused."

"And I would have kissed you ."

"And I would have kissed you back."

"And I would have fallen in love with you immediately."

"And I would have sworn that I'd fall in love with you in every universe."

She closed her eyes, feeling the very last remnants of his presence as she whispered, "I think it's safe to assume that you already have."

"And I think I'm inclined to agree."

THE END

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #mercy after hours

967 notes · View notes

sukunasbow · 7 months ago

Text

dating malakai

• when he first showed up at your school, you were one of the first people to show him around and befriend him.

• when your boyfriend broke up with you and malakai was by your side and taking care of you, that’s when you started to have a change in feelings for him.

• eventually, the two of you figured out your feelings and started dating.

• he’s, obviously, the sweetest boyfriend you could’ve asked for.

• he likes to be near you all the time. it’s very known that you’re dating him because he’s constantly being affectionate and holding your hand in school.

• his favourite date with you consists of going to the beach and just having a genuine conversation while eating takeout. he typically prefers calm dates, but sometimes he enjoys going to parties with you and dressing up.

• he shows his love for you through words of affirmation and physical touch.

• he doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, he tends to make it clear to whoever is hitting on you that you’re taken. after sending the message, however, he then has a bad habit of pushing you away and getting closed off.

• you usually give him some space and then the two of you talk it out. your relationship involves working on communication.

#first post in a while so have mercy pls!!#x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #hbh x reader #heartbreak high fanfic #heartbreak high x reader #malakai mitchell x reader #spider x reader #spencer white x reader

514 notes · View notes

loooopside · 1 year ago

Text

OH LORD HAVE MERCY.

Like-

SIR. SIR WHAT IS THIS LOOK.

I was already on my knees but now I'm UNDERGROUND. Please PLEASEEEE

2K notes · View notes

evasive-anon · 11 months ago

Text

Jason was having a pretty OK time with the league of assassins, sure getting dunked in a lazarus pit sucked and Bruce turned out to be a scumbag who didn't care about him, but at least he isn't dead. He even liked most of the new skills he was learning there so on the whole being with the league seemed like a pretty good deal to him until Talia woke him up in the middle of the night and left him alone with two child assassins.

Or, a demon twins AU where when Talia realizes her father intends to have her boys fight to the death takes action first by deciding to take all her kids and leave the league. Talia either dies or is separated from them in the initial escape and now Jason just has a bag of supplies and a letter from Talia explaining the plan to get to Gotham. Jason has to get himself and two 7 year olds out of the Himalayas, across a desert, and over 12k miles to Gotham. Only now the league members hunting them down want them dead or worse and Jason isn't too confident that B will accept them given their kill counts.

Featuring:

Good Mom Talia. she loves her kids. Did she teach them to kill? Sure, but that's an important life skill.

Single Teen Mom Jason. He's the oldest and in charge but he also will not answer any questions about The Plan™ given he isn't committed to Talia's but also doesn't have a set alternative. Oscillates between looking forward to just dumping his new little brothers with Bruce so they'll be his problem and thinking of just moving somewhere random in the US and keeping them based entirely on how cute vs annoying they are at that time. Didn't realize how much he relied on Talia to help him with things until she is gone. He's really trying his best but he wasn't all that emotionally stable before this so hang in there.

Angry Smol Dami. He's still drinking the LoS punch and really dislikes that he is now considered a traitor. Can't stand that Jason won't answer any of his very relevant questions. Is actually very scared but will not show it. Misses his mom. Didn't even know he had siblings until his mom yoinked him out of bed that night and brought him to Jason and Danny and started all this. Physically the stronger twin. Thinks Danny is dragging them down in fights and also may blame him a bit because clearly his mother only did all this to spare him.

Danny, reincarnated with limited access to his memories and powers. Has been trying to keep his powers a secret. Talia knew about them but never told anyone but she may have hinted at it in her letter to Jason. Not the strongest physically but very good at stealth and social interactions. Didn't know he had and older brother or twin before Jason woke him up at Talia's instruction that night. Thinks Damian is mean and has faith Jason knows what he's doing even if that is very much untrue.

#escape the LoS demon twins prompt #dropping extras at the end in the tags for fun #demon twins au #dpxdc prompt #fanfic prompt #dpxdc #dp x dc #dcxdp #dc x dp #original post #long post #non-canon compliant #danny phantom crossover #batman crossover #Athanasia and Mara could be added to the party as well for extra fun #but I don't know how familiar the phandom side is with those characters so I didn't include them in this #also out of some mercy for this Jason tbh cause even 2 kids would already be a pain for a teenager #if Mara is there then Damian would probably vibe with her the most in spite of their rivalry cause she's probably distrust Jay too #and she would probably also resent becoming a traitor so they'd relate to each other #If Athanasia is in the crew then I think she'd be clocked as the weakest link and Damian would probably disapprove of her instead of Danny #Danny could also be full human in this AU #powerset if reincarnated is whatever you want but I was thinking invisibility for brief periods and partial intagability #like he can disappear for a couple seconds or phase a weapon through him in a pinch #but he can't do it a lot or maybe can only do it sometimes #i don't imagine Jason has pit rage in this just trauma #I imagine Jason being 16/17yo

631 notes · View notes

kiwi-on-ice · 11 days ago

Text

Halloween couples costumes with Overwatch men + women with fem!reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Not fully smut but definitely nsfw elements in some

Notes: Happy Halloween!! <3 and thank you all so much for your support throughout kinktober, it’s been stressful but so fun! Hope you all have a spooky day, love from kiwi xx

Women:

Ashe:

Inspired by @ovwechoes she’d definitely love to go as Poison Ivy, with you as her Harley Quinn, buying you both the best quality costumes. Makes the perfect distraction, people are too busy staring at you both unashamedly to notice her gang pick-pocketing them and robbing a few shops before you disappear into crowd of costumes.

She buys you Harley's original jester outfit (the tight leather has her blushing just a little, as her hand won’t be able to help wandering over your curves). She wears a green corset, with tights and gloves that feel so lovely to the touch, complete with fake leaves that go around her. Every time your eyes go to her cleavage, she tilts your chin up with a teasing smirk, telling you ‘my eyes are up here, sugar.’

Junker Queen:

Loves Halloween, she’d definitely want to dress SCARY. Would want to see the slight fear on people’s faces, so she goes as a vampire. But she whites out her face, putting red contacts in her eyes, and covers herself in fake blood. She looks horrifyingly sexy, in a tight black outfit fitted with a cloak, and even fake fangs.

When she shows you your costume…or lack thereof you’re confused. But then with glee she tells you that you’re clearly the vampire’s plaything, the tasty morsel she drags around. That’s why you’re in a short white nightdress, with lacy stockings and garters. She paints red marks on your neck and wrists like you’ve been bitten (and even offers to leave some real marks, for the sake of realism of course)

Kiriko:

Another one who loves Halloween, and you both scroll through Pinterest for hours collecting ideas before you decide on what to wear to the Halloween party you’d been invited to.

You go as Daphne and Velma, and you both do a coin toss to decide who gets who. She gets Daphne, dressing in a tight purple dress with white go-go boots, whereas you get an orange jumper and red skirt, with some black rimmed glasses to complete it.

Kiriko insists on pulling up your long socks for you, kissing up your leg to tease you. You get her back though, running your hands down her dress under the guise of smoothing it down, so you can feel her up. On second thoughts…maybe you both are gonna be late for the party.

Mercy:

Surprisingly can be a little self conscious about dressing up, despite how much she actually loves it. So having you also be enthusiastic helps her a lot. You show her lots of pictures, but she seems the most curious about Kim Possible and Shego. You assume she wants to be Kim, but you couldn’t be more wrong.

So on the night, your jaw drops to the floor when you see her in the skintight black and green body suit, blonde hair tucked away underneath a curled black wig. She looks stunning, as she tells you she wanted to dress as the opposite of how she normally presents, an angel into a demon so to speak.

But when she holds your waist where your black crop top ends, your knees almost buckle out how gorgeous she is. And it makes your eyes wander to attempt to find how exactly she zipped it up…

Moira:

She’d laugh at you teasingly for how much you want to match with her, but she allows you to pick her costume. For once, you can dress her up like your own doll, and dress her you do.

You pick Rapunzel and Flynn rider, with you wearing a shorter version of her purple dress, with a dainty crown, and her in as close to the film’s costume as you can. You practically drool as you see her (and you’ll probably have to show her the film, since she’s clueless as to who she’s meant to be)

Although afterwards, she’ll make teasing comments about ‘stealing’ your heart away before grabbing your crown and holding it above your head, delighting when you attempt to jump and grab it.

Sombra:

Oh man she loves Halloween; and you both go all out every year. This year, she gets the idea to do beetlejuice and Lydia. She creates a ‘sexy’ beetlejuice outfit, with the black and white striped jacket and top, with a short skirt and sheer tights. She does her makeup gorgeously, with a black smokey eye and matching lipstick, painting green patches on her face just like the film. You have to forcibly stop yourself from ogling her, before she shows you your costume.

It’s Lydia’s red wedding dress, but cut shorter which makes you roll your eyes playfully. She insists on doing your makeup for you, giving her an excuse to get close to your face so she can paint the red lipstick precisely.

Tracer:

When you both are invited to the Overwatch halloween party, she knows that she wants to do a matching costume with you. She's a pretty crafty person, so she makes it from scratch for you both.

You're Cosmo and Wanda, with Lena having made little headbands that have a crown on top, as well as a star magic wand. You wear a wig, but Lena surprised you by actually dyeing her hair, making you giggle when she emerges from the bathroom with a goofy grin. All throughout the party, you both pretend to grant other people their wishes, having a blast.

Widowmaker:

While she loves Halloween before she was experimented on, now she looks at it slightly different. Despite her usual outfits, she feels less desirable than she did before, her blue skin something she can’t seem to get past.

But she wants to move past it, for you at least, so she agrees to dress up as whatever you’d like. You dress her as marceline, with you as princess bubblegum. She laughs at the slightly juvenile outfit choices, but she can’t deny you look just lovely in your pink dress, and she can’t help but fiddle with the crown on your head. You tell her breathlessly that she looks beautiful, and she gives you a teasing spin. That night you both are practically joined at the hip, and hey if her hand slips down a few times, who’s gonna stop her?

Zarya:

She’s a little shy about dressing up. When you approach the subject about you both having a couple theme, she’s hesitant. After all, there’s not a lot of buff women in media in general, so she’s afraid of looking a little silly wearing a costume for a character that doesn’t look like her. Despite all your reassurances, you know it’s something you won’t be able to shift her on, so you get a better idea.

Booting your game console up, you make her play the last of us with you, and as soon as she sees Abby, you know your plan worked. So you both rock up to the overwatch party and Abby and Ellie, grinning as the fake blood you applied to her face really makes her eyes pop.

Men:

Baptiste:

It was while you both were doing a movie marathon that you mention the upcoming overwatch Halloween party. You both happened to be watching blade, and after remarking how hot you think he’d look in leather, the idea is sealed.

You knew you were right when you finally saw his costume, the black leather making him look alluring and dangerous. You were dressed as Abigail from the sequel, a crop top squeezing your chest and a fake bow and arrow strapped to your back. As you make your feelings known, he pulls you to his chest and whispers the filthiest things you’ve ever heard before teasingly winking at you, explaining that the taxi is waiting outside. It’s gonna be a long party…

Cole Cassidy:

Jokingly suggests you going as the cowgirl to his cowboy, but you pout and tell him you want to go as an actual costume, which includes him dressing up. He has a think, and having just watched death note with Genji, suggests Light and Misa. You beam and start to prepare the outfit on your phone, and he sighs in relief that you didn’t seem to pick up on the fact he suggested it so he can see how you look in the ensemble.

And god is it worth the wait, when you come out wearing that black corset, stockings barely reaching your plush thighs as you give him a spin that nearly has you flashing him with how short the skirt is. Although you’re just as affected, seeing him in a nicely pressed white suit and tie, strong hands clutching a fake copy of the death note. He insists on making you sit in his lap, running his hand up the corset to feel the material, before you feel just how much he likes how you look.

Doomfist:

Hadn’t even thought about Halloween, too busy to have spared it a passing glance. So in the days leading up to the holiday, you both realise that you need to sort out a costume. You’re a little stumped, but he has an idea.

Men in black was always one of his guilty pleasure films, and dressing in a suit and sunglasses was certainly easy. Although seeing you in a tight suit he’d had custom made for your measurements was certainly making his thoughts stray as you arrive. The whole night, he keeps making excuses for you to dance with him, drink with him, be with him.

Genji:

Secretly a massive nerd, has several costumes he wants to try. But he finally settles on spider-man, thinking it’ll be more identifiable than the other obscure costumes he has in mind.

He shows you his idea for you, and is delighted when you agree, and dress up as spider-gwen, tight white outfit exentuating your body and making his heart rate increase. All throughout the overwatch party, he’ll teasingly pull down the hood of your costume to get your attention. But with each playful glare you give him back, he has to force himself to not get too flustered, thinking about you giving him that glare while climbing into his lap…

Hanzo:

He initially scoffs at the concept of dressing up, seeing it as a childish activity. But he can’t seek to deny his beloved of anything, not when you look up at him with puppy eyes and beg so prettily for him to share this experience with you.

That’s how he finds himself looking at the mirror, observing him dressed as the phantom of the opera. He tries not to be a prideful man in terms of vanity, opting to focus his pride on his skills, not his looks. But he can’t deny he looks good tonight, the mask covering half his face making him look like a mysterious danger, but not one someone would shy away from. And when he sees you as Christine, your white dress glistening in the low light, he takes the opportunity to hold your hand in his gloved one and plant a kiss upon the back of it seductively. He may not be a man who emphasises his seductive qualities, but he doesn’t mind playing the part for tonight at least.

Junkrat:

Loves dressing up! Or to be more specific, loves you dressing up. Always gets off on seeing you in some sort of cosplay or costume, but you also want to see him dressed up for a change, so it's your idea to come to a compromise that'll effect you both.

After doing his makeup, and forcing him into the outfit you bought him (he thinks it's scratchy, but he'll bare it for you), you turn him to the mirror to see you've dressed him as Captain Jack Sparrow. He laughs manically when he sees himself, doing a crude voice impression to make you giggle too. You excuse yourself to the other room to put your costume on, and when you come back in dressed as Elizabeth Swan, specifically in her pirate costume, he practically drools like a puppy.

Lifeweaver:

Is delighted that you want to do a matching couple costume with him, and when you tell him your idea, he’s overjoyed.

You choose Morticia and Gomez Addams, explaining that how Gomez treats Morticia is how he treats you, so it fits! And when he gets the costume on, dear god. You love him in it, the dark colours a contrast to the usual colour palette he has.

And wow, when you come out in the tight fitting black dress, he nearly collapses. He immediately does a reference to the movie, grabbing your hand and kissing up your arm to your neck, finally to your ruby lips. You both go where you’ve been invited, but he whispers promises in your ear that tonight, he’ll ravage you in the way a gorgeous woman like you deserves.

Lucio:

Loves Halloween!! Loves the spookiness!! If anything, he’s the one to suggest a couple costume. Wants something with makeup and sfx and gore and guts and everything.

You both go as zombies, and you go all out on the disgusting makeup. When you walk the streets on the way to your party, people actually cross the street to avoid you both, something you giggle at as soon as they’re out of earshot. But to tease him, you decided to have your zombie wear tight denim shorts, so the whole time you both are partying and having fun, he has to train his eyes to look at the fake blood spattered over your cheeks as opposed to how delicious your ass looks.

Mauga :

Any excuse for a good time, he’s down, so he lets you control his costume. But he says he wants something comfortable, doesn’t want anything that’ll hinder him. So you give him a plaid shirt and jeans, telling him the mask will be the main focus. He’s a little confused at the wolf mask you give him, but you tell him to sit tight and wait until you return.

And when you do…it’s almost like he gets into character with the way he growls at the sight. You’re wearing a red riding hood outfit, corset perfectly exemplifying your figure as the frilled white shirt shows off just enough cleavage to leave him wanting more. With his big hands, he gently takes the red hood and moves it from your head, before lifting you into his arms for a kiss. All throughout the party, his eyes are firmly on you, making sure nobody gets any ideas to play with his girl. And afterwards well…he shows you just how beastly he can be.

Reaper:

Doesn’t care for dressing up, so you attempt to bribe him by saying he can just wear his normal mercenary outfit but change the mask.

And when you pull out the scream mask, he isn’t a fool. He knows what you’re doing as he slips it on, and your cheeks immediately flush at the sight. He leans into it, walking over to you before crowding you against the door, placing his hand by the side of your head and tilting his own as he asks in his raspy voice ‘do you like scary movies?’

After that…well, you both are very much late to the talon Halloween gathering, you hadn’t even gotten your costume on yet. You quickly had dressed up, but all the while his hands were around your waist, trying to convince you to ditch the party and instead have a round two with him <3

Reinhardt:

Another one who’s delighted that you want to do a couples costume, thinks it’s so cute of you to ask. But he also takes it as a competition. You both have to be the best dressed!

You both spend ages discussing ideas before you settle on one that he likes. In all honesty, you’re surprised he could actually find a Batman costume that actually fit his huge frame. But still, he looks amazing, the dark costume emphasising his muscles.

But my god when he sees you as catwoman, curves squeezed into tight leather, his knees nearly give way. Huge hands immediately wrap around your waist, brain racing a mile a minute as he attempts to compliment you in a way that doesn’t sound crude. Please tell him you don’t mind…but he fears your costume will end up ripped if you enable him too much.

Bonus venture time:

Venture:

Obviously they're excited when you tell them you want to do a couple costume...until you pull out your phone. Then they're rolling their eyes playfully and passionately explaining 'actually babe, Indiana Jones is a very poor representation of an archaeologist! I mean he doesn't even do desk based assessments before partaking in an excavation-'

But you're convincing, so that's how on Halloween night you're feeling up their muscles over the tight brown leather jacket, before playfully flicking the hat atop their head. You're dressed as Lara Croft, the tank top pushing your tits enough that their eyes are practically glued to your chest.

Although they need to get you both to the party, so they playfully get their fake whip and wrap it around your waist, dragging you out the door as you erupt in a fit of giggles.

141 notes · View notes

theetherealbloom · 6 months ago

Text

LORD I’M SO UNWELLLLLLL PLEASEEEE AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

180 notes · View notes

cry-ptidd · 7 months ago

Text

The red means ily!!!

#i tried a new render. be merciful with me #its far from perfect. but its the start of growth. and that makes it perfect #hellsing #alucard #my art #cw blood #cw ommetaphobia #Alucard can be considered a yandere right. we all agree on that #this was based on an anon that said he's the type to settle for hate if the person he likes doesn't love him #as long as they think STRONGLY of him #this reminds me of that scene in Kaleidoscope by catsvsdogscatswin (absolute PEAK fanfic its my favorite on ao3)#where Anderson finds alu chained in the basement and when he says that he's the one sworn to kill him #alucard smiles and says 'ah so you're someone that loves me'#i NEED a moment here. he hurts me so much #this should be illegal

195 notes · View notes

whatcannotbesaid-shallbewept · 20 days ago

Text

Guys. Can we talk about how insane Mercy is for a second.

Even just the way she's introduced. The Orphans are letting the Warriors are pass through peacefully, but Mercy comes in and says "Hmm, No."

Calls all the boys bitches and chickens. Says they're idiots for falling for a pretty face. Demands Swann to undress. Forces the Orphans to have fight the Warriors.

But then The Warriors start an explosion, possibly maiming and killing every boys she's ever known. And Mercy's reaction is. "Oh I'm going to completely uproot my life to follow this girl"

Barely two minutes have passed. What happened to not falling for a pretty face? Her only interaction with these people is demanding their clothes, and starting a fight.

She doesn't ask either. She just starts chasing them, no questions asked. Completely convinced they'll just let her come. Doesn't know where they're going, doesn't even know their names.

Spends the rest of the plot she takes the role of starting fights with strangers and insisting shes part of the gang.

Even when she finds out that thousands of people are trying to murder them, she doesn't seem discouraged from joining. Doesn't even question it. Says "oh yeah, guess we're wanted dead for murder"

Chooses to risk her life for people she barely even knows. Doesnt seem to have experience fighting - starts beating people up anyway.

Swann asks if she's loyal. Mercy says I'm loyal to you ;). She met this woman five hours ago. Then she asks her why aren't you kissing me yet,??

I'm pretty sure she's the best character in all of media?

#warriors musical #swann #mercy #swercy #GUYS IM WRITING FANFIC FOR THEM TRUST #Warriors fans. dm me. we must connect

102 notes · View notes

mercyillustrator · 2 years ago

Text

Making an upcoming comic for Nonsurat backstory comic stripes of how she join GSA and how she looks like in my version time before Kirby was born and I haven’t showed my progress or sketches to you guys before but I wonder that will be her as a young adult late teens or her current self during GSA. This is the examples of female puffballs but similar to Evil Kirby from Anime but different cause female puffballs has NME symbol. Should her younger self be the 2nd or the 3rd? I wonder that’s her hippy outfit cause of medieval or just modern maybe 80s or 90s :0 .

- Mercy :)

9 notes · View notes

klaraakrstic · 4 months ago

Text

Went on Wattpad after YEARS and I forgot how good (disturbing) the comments can be

Likeee???💀💀

Also I need a new pfp so bad😫

123 notes · View notes

sukunasbow · 1 year ago

Text

sfw hcs, nate archibald.

summary: nate and sfw hcs!

warnings: not yet proofread!

notes: sorry for the inactivity but i plan on this being my first comeback post aka i’m returning very soon! stay tuned for my halloween event 🤭

The original and best golden retriever boyfriend out there.

He’s so obsessed with you, literally worships the ground you walk on.

It took some time for the two of you to finally get together, as you were worried about Blair’s reaction, but she ended up being supportive, since you were happy.

He loves spoiling you but hates when you spoil him. He’ll buy you anything you want or ask for but as soon as you spend even a dollar on him, he’ll insist on paying you back or buying you something in return.

His favourite date with you isn’t some expensive restaurant, he just loves when he gets to come over to your house and order takeout while watching a movie.

That being said, he doesn’t mind going out to a fancy place if you ask. Of course, he insists on paying though.

Whenever he’s having family issues and needs to get away, he always goes to you for comfort and a place to stay until he’s back on his feet.

Speaking of family issues, even though he doesn’t always know how to voice his appreciation, you’re always there to step up and defend him against his father or anyone else whenever he can’t.

Your family adores him and constantly asks about him, he’s literally the most respectful boyfriend you could’ve asked for.

Nate definitely loves wearing couples costumes during Halloween or having a sleepover and wearing matching pyjamas during Christmas, even though he pretends it’s silly.

In conclusion, this man loves you so much and sees you as his lifetime partner, you’re just so special to him.

taglist: @emryb @l5byrinth @hayleysimp @edb954

#short and might suck cause i haven’t written in so long #have mercy yall #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #gossip girl x reader #gossip girl fanfiction #gossip girl imagine #nate archibald x reader #nate archibald fanfic #nate archibald fanfiction #nate archibald x you #chuck bass x reader #chuck bass fanfiction #blair waldorf x reader #serena van der woodsen x reader #gg x reader

2K notes · View notes

mercy-burning · 5 days ago

Text

A Weekend In Paradise (Summer of Sin Bonus Chapter)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: A couples' weekend vacation with Y/N, her fake boyfriend, her mom, and her real boyfriend, who also happens to be her mom's boyfriend... What could possibly be more relaxing? Category: MATURE (18+) Content: Strong language, cheating, female masturbation, kinda non-con (previously mentioned masturbation is happening while an unaware party is asleep in the same bed), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, omorashi/piss kink, daddy kink, "little girl" nickname, car sex, grinding, brief handjob, praise, biting/marking. (This one is pure fucking filth, y'all, buckle UP LMAO) Word Count: 7k

MAIN MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know summer is literally over and we're all in autumn mode, but better late than never, right? ANYWAY, it's been an absolute pleasure re-reading this series and finishing it out with more shenanigans. These two and their messy asses are always so much fun to write, and I think about them all the time. In the timeline, this chapter takes place between parts 2 and 3 of “Your Favorite” if you want to put it in sequence with the other parts :) Have fun, and thank you for being patient with me. I hope this was worth the wait!

**********

FRIDAY

The only thing warmer than the blazing sun above me, the only thing that could burn me to the greatest extent until I was nothing but a pile of ash, is the way Spencer is staring at me right now.

Mom is reading a book quietly, laying her legs over his lap as they lounge on the loveseat, and Andrew is with me on the patio, rubbing sunscreen on my limbs. Even though we're far enough apart so no one can hear any conversation from the other party, the unspoken jealousy radiating from both Spencer and I is loud enough to drown out an entire concert venue.

Maybe it's cruel, and I'll probably catch shit for it later, but I can't stop smiling. It's easy for me to imagine that it's his hands gliding over my skin while I'm staring directly at him, and he's returning said stare with so much intensity that it might as well be magically willing my bathing suit to come off. Andrew's deft fingers tease the thin string at the edge of my hip and I laugh, playfully reaching back to swat at his hand.

"They're right inside, you know..."

He gets up to look, but still feeling Spencer's red-hot gaze, I quickly turn Andrew around and kiss him deeply, cradling his face in my hands and pressing into him with a laugh.

He pulls away just enough to speak. "Well, then let's go somewhere they aren't..."

"Mmm... Might be too obvious. He's smart, he'll know something's up if we're quick to run off."

"If you're quick to run off, you mean..."

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just an innocent bystander..." Andrew leans in and pecks my mouth sweetly, his voice just as gentle when he speaks. "Your only goal this weekend is to taunt him, and he knows it." Another peck. "If you run off with me this easily, you figure he'll be onto our little scheme." And another. "But if you play it right and act all inconvenienced by my... urgency..." Another kiss, this one a bit longer and definitely more sensual. "He might just feel bad enough to make it up to you later."

"You think?"

"I don't actually know. Probably." He reaches for my hands and helps me off the lounge swing, and I feel wobbly. "But what I do know is that you think too much. That man wants you so bad, he's going to find a way to spend time alone with you this weekend, whether we're making out in front of him or not. Just... Loosen up. Have a little fun."

The two of us are attached at the hip as we sneak out of eyesight from the patio screen door, and from Mom and Spencer.

"Loosen up? Do you realize how serious this situation is, Andy? One wrong move and my life is over."

"Look. I'm not judging you, and it's none of my business. But you put yourself in this situation on your own. And I'm happy to help you out, but you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

He's not wrong. I could stop this at any point, and I could've from the start if I wanted to... But I don't want to, and that's just it. I've dug the hole, and if it means getting to spend time alone with Spencer for even the smallest amount of time, I'd gladly lay down and die in it.

So. 'Loosen up and have a little fun' it is.

I take a deep breath and smile up at Andrew, patting him on the shoulder. "Yes. I can do that."

———

"I can't do it."

"Mmmmm, you and I both know that isn't true. You've come much faster under more stressful circumstances. Should be easy for you."

He's not wrong, yet I can't help but frown at Spencer's request anyway. I've been in a shitty mood all day, despite my discussion with Andrew earlier on. It's nearing nightfall, and with hardly any attention from the person I wanted it from, to say I'm now desperate is a severe understatement. There's still some time left until the two of us can properly sneak away, but even so, we have a moment alone and all he wants is to watch me get myself off in the bathroom upstairs while Mom and Andrew set the table out on the porch for a small, late dinner.

"Yeah, but you usually help me with that..."

Spencer only grins at my whining, tilting his head as he stands at the sink with his arms crossed, watching my hand at work. "If you're going to flaunt your boyfriend at me all weekend, then you're going to deal with the consequences."

"You're fucking my mom, Spencer, and you flaunt it at me every fucking day of my life... Cut me some slack."

"Aw. You're grumpy."

"Fuck you."

"You wish, don't you?"

I huff and get up off the edge of the bathtub, flipping my skirt back down and shaking my head. "You know what, forget it. If you wanna be difficult, then you can suck my dick."

"I'm not giving you what you want until I watch you come."

"Whatever."

I breeze past him and shut the door, hoping he'll follow and pull me into a bedroom and just fuck me anyway, but deep down I know he won't. He's a man of his word. It's simultaneously the best and worst thing about him.

The rest of the evening passes by slowly, which only sours my mood even more every time I look at my phone and realize that only a few minutes have passed.

I'd thought at least maybe Spencer would ease up and take the role of "Eve's Loving and Devoted Boyfriend" to the bare minimum, however that's promptly not the case. I don't know if he's doing it to piss me off and get me to cave, or if he's just over my bullshit and being his genuine, caring self to the woman he's in a relationship with... Either way, I practically feel my insides boiling over and my face burning red. I'm jealous, I'm grumpy as he so eloquently put it, and I'm so sexually frustrated that I'm seriously considering just running off to my bedroom and pulling out a vibrator, Spencer be damned. Fuck his rules, fuck his 'consequences', and fuck this whole damned weekend straight to hell.

My eyes wander to the lounge swing where Spencer and Mom are almost falling asleep, her head resting on his shoulder, and an inordinately evil image etches itself into my brain. Evil might sound harsh, but it's truly the only accurate word I could use to describe the feeling as it runs its course through my bloodstream. And when the breeze picks up and cools me off, within a mere second I realize just how insane I'd be for even entertaining it.

Even as our two groups say our goodbyes for the night, and I recount the day's failure to Andrew just before he falls asleep, I'm still going back and forth.

Loosen up. Have a little fun.

The situation at hand is decidedly not fun.

That being said, the possible look on Spencer's face after I'd do what I'm thinking? Taking his rules and throwing them in his face? That sounds fun.

My mind is already made up by the time I reach their door, gently pushing it open and letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, which isn't terribly bad to start with. There is a giant open floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the beach, and subsequently the moonlight reflects off the water and into the bedroom. It's still dark, but not enough to where I can't see where I'm going.

Each soft step I take sends my heart rate higher and higher until I reach my destination at Spencer's side of the bed. Call it what you want, but I figure it's damn lucky that he's facing towards the room and not towards my mom, otherwise waking him up would have been a much more difficult feat.

I brush strands of hair away from his forehead and then tap him gently on the nose. I almost think it won't work, but then he shakes his head and flutters open his eyes, and that's when my heart leaps straight out of my chest.

This just became real.

There's no going back now.

He's shocked to see me standing above him, obviously, and before he can say or do anything, I put a finger to his mouth and imitate a shh with my own.

I wait for his eyesight to adjust and for him to realize what my intentions are, and right before it happens, my finger lifts from his mouth and rests on his bare chest as I balance myself, lifting my right leg to the pillow, right next to his head.

There's a deep, concerned warning in his eyes, but it dissolves the second he glances down to see that under my thin silk nightdress there's no tangible barrier between himself and my slick cunt. Even if the darkness prevents him from getting the best look, it's not a secret what I'm doing. My right hand drapes down as I start to touch myself gently, and fortunately it doesn't take long to start feeling that familiar sharp ache of desire pulsing through my lower half. Spencer's wide eyes and heavy breathing tacked on to the sheer danger I'm putting myself in to do this have made me wet in an instant.

I force myself not to think about the sleeping woman next to him and instead keep my eyes locked with his. It feels almost like a dream, like if I get distracted and lose his gaze then I will be doomed to lose it for good, and no matter how hard I try to remember it when I wake, it will be nothing but a distant feeling. The stakes right now have quite literally never been higher.

Now, there are a lot of things I'm not proud of. Helping my mom's boyfriend cheat on her is probably the biggest offender for obvious reasons. But as I've learned, sometimes those things end up being totally worth it.

Faking an orgasm also happens to be one of those things.

It's risky, I know. Spencer is the smartest person I know. It's not a stretch to believe that he could call my bluff. I also happen to be unfortunately seasoned in the art of faking orgasms (thankfully due to my time seeing men before sleeping with Spencer). The determination I have to get him to fuck me before this first night of our vacation is over is the cherry on top of my evil scheme.

So, I rock my hips into my hand, lock eyes with Spencer, and fake the fuck out of it. And thankfully, faking being quiet in this particular situation is ten times easier than faking being loud. It's a fool-proof plan.

I barely 'finish' before Spencer grabs my wrist and softly sits up in the bed. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, because his face doesn't even twitch. It almost looks like he's angry, but I have a hard time believing he would be. It could also be the concoction of desperation and anxiety coursing through my nervous system making me make that up. Either way, I know I'm going to find out very soon.

Spencer gets out of bed quietly, dragging me behind him. He shuts the bedroom door with barely any sound, and it's impressive considering he'd just woken up a few minutes ago. I suppose though, a man on a mission is a man on a mission no matter how drowsy; The moment we're down the stairs and out the back door to the porch, he's backing me up to the table where we'd eaten dinner, my legs nearly buckling before he lifts me up and sets me down on top of it.

"You're insane," he whispers, closing the gap between us just a millisecond after.

I welcome his kiss and melt into him, snaking my arms over his shoulders and wrapping my legs around his waist. He tilts his head hungrily, deepening the kiss, and I can't help but groan at the inclusion of his tongue.

"Insanely irresistible," I finally counter back when we part for air.

He kisses me again, quickly, adding, "Insanely bratty," and then he reaches down to touch the heat between my legs. I've gone long enough without it that I involuntarily drop my head back with a sigh of relief at his touch, breathing out, "Fuck, I need you..."

I half-expected him to keep bantering with me, but instead he leans forward and latches onto my neck, surely leaving hickeys behind as his fingers work inside me. It feels good, but it's not enough. I need more.

More...

I hadn't even realized I'd been breathlessly chanting the word into the air until Spencer groans and removes himself from me to pull his lounge pants down far enough to free his erection and slide into me with ease. He swallows my moan with his mouth, holding himself inside me and kissing me so deeply I can barely breathe. The cool night air sends a blanket of chills over my limbs, and for a moment in time, it's just me, him, and the ocean crashing beside us.

It's almost like we become a part of it, wave after wave of pleasure and relief passing through us with each harsh crash of water over sand. Skin against skin, tongue over lip and tooth.

We could have been out there for hours, and I wouldn't have known any different. All I know for sure is that it's me and Spencer. Just as it should be.

Even after we both reach our end, we remain still in our embrace, my limbs weak but still wrapped around him. Safe. He strokes the back of my head and kisses me lazily, drawing out every last ounce of happiness from my body and soul until he pulls away finally and I remember where we are. The situation at hand. How horrible I feel at what I'd just done in front of my sleeping mother.

God, you are so fucked up...

"You're right. I'm insane."

Spencer tenses at my words, then sighs. "I'm not any better."

"I don't know how I'm going to get through this," I confess. "I wish it was just me and you. I wish it didn't have to be this way."

"I know, Y/N..."

He doesn't say anything after that, and I don't either. Part of me wants him to reassure me that everything will be okay, but the rational part of me knows deep down that I don't deserve it. Also that it probably wouldn't even work anyway.

I'm too far into this pit of hell for any kind of redemption, and I'm just going to have to deal with it.

Which is why, when Spencer walks me up to my bedroom and gently kisses me goodnight after helping to clean me up, I simply slink away to bed and will myself to sleep, feeling completely numb despite getting exactly what I wanted.

SATURDAY

"Pancakes are done!"

I feel miles better than I did yesterday, maybe because Spencer had padded into my room early this morning to uh... Pay me back for the stunt I pulled last night. I couldn't deny the smile on my face when I woke to his body standing over mine, palming himself through his pants as Andrew slept soundly next to me.

Rather than watch him though, I quietly sat up and lent him a helping hand.

And mouth.

Whatever negativity we'd encountered yesterday had magically vanished, and now I can't help but feel like it's going to be a good day.

It also helps that Andrew made pancakes and bacon.

"These look great, Andy," Mom compliments, sitting down at the head of the table. "Better than mine."

"Nonsense," I tell her. "Yours have confetti sprinkles."

"Yes, but they're always burnt." Spencer kisses the side of her head as he stands behind her, but his eyes are on me, an evil grin on his lips. "No offense, Dear."

I want to strangle him.

"Not all of us can be masters of the frying pan... But I try."

"You do great, Mom, don't listen to him. He may know everything, but he doesn't know everything."

He feigns hurt, putting a hand over his heart and pouting, and I can't help but smile. Mom does, too, and for a moment, it feels like we can all get along without complicated feelings and desires putting a damper on our weekend.

Andrew fixes up his plate last, and when he sits down next to me, his hand finds mine under the table, tapping my palm twice—our signal for "everything good?"

I tap his back, a confirmation that for right now, I'm okay.

Breakfast is enjoyable, and I don't know what the day will bring, but I don't have any panic or dread settling in my bones, and Spencer and I aren't staring daggers into the back of each others' heads, so until that point arises again I decide to stuff my mouth with food and just revel in the calm.

Mom perks up as we're finishing the last few bites of our plates. "There's a big flea market a few towns over today, I thought we could go check it out after breakfast. It's supposed to be a nice half-hour drive along the coast, and they've got live music and tons of food."

"Mmm, sounds great, Mom," I say through a bite of food, swallowing it before continuing. "Maybe on the way back we can stop somewhere and get stuff to finish the patio."

Grandma's beach house is nice, but it's old, which means the patio screens are littered with holes and other wear and tear. Part of the reason we'd decided to come here was to make it look nice and figure out what repairs need to be done before we help her sell it, and that patio needs... Well, it needs a little more than some new screen-doors, but that was the start.

Spencer nudges my foot under the table and speaks up. "I don't do so well in the car after I eat, so I can actually stay back and start working on getting the porch cleared out and take measurements for what you need if you want to go ahead without me."

"Oh, are you sure, Honey?" Mom grabs his hand. "We can wait a little to go if you want."

"Really, it's okay. It's a beautiful morning, you should take advantage of it. I'll take the other car and meet you there in an hour or two."

"Well, okay, if you're sure. I just feel bad leaving you behind..."

He nudges me under the table again.

"I can stay and help," I offer then, suddenly feeling my chest warm up from the inside at the opportunity. Then it's my turn to do the nudging. I tap Andrew's hand under the table and look at him. "I mean, you don't mind hanging out with my mom for a bit, do you?"

I'm so glad he's quick at catching on. And I will love him forever for what he's doing for me. I make a mental note to send him gift baskets for life when he nods and gives my mom his best smile. "I don't mind at all."

I turn to Mom. "Yeah, I'll call you when we've got everything handled and then Spencer and I can just meet you guys down there." I turn to him then, hoping to make it seem more like a natural development of a last-second plan rather than an evil scheme. "If you want the company, that is. I didn't mean to intrude or anything."

He smiles. "I don't mind the help at all, but it's totally up to you and your mom."

Mom practically fawns over her boyfriend and grabs his hand with a lovesick pout, which makes me feel really bad for what we're probably about to do the second she leaves. "No, I think it'll be good for you two to spend some time together. It makes me happy to see my two favorite people getting along."

"Then it's a perfect plan for me," Spencer beams at her, kissing the back of her hand.

———

We wait until we can't see the car anymore, until it's so far in the distance that we're positive we won't be seen. Spencer wants to wait longer in case Mom decides she forgot something and needs to come back, but I know that Andrew will text me if anything happens. Spencer is right here next to me, his hand steady on my lower back as he guides me through the house.

We're alone, not doing anything yet, and it feels like torture.

So on the way to the bedroom, I squeeze his hand and depart, hoping to kill some time—to ease his mind as well as my anxiety.

"I'm gonna pee quick and then you can have your way with me, yeah?"

Spencer reaches out for my hand again, pulling me to him and not letting me go, a glint of something mischievous in his eye. It shocks and excites me simultaneously. "But I want my way with you now."

His lips are on mine, and he's backing me into the wall, picture frames gently rattling in the hallway once my back is flush to the drywall. I melt into him with a laugh.

"We have time," I tell him between kisses, trying to get away. "I'll be quick, I promise."

"No," he grunts, kissing me again, deep and earnest.

I whine at the excitement that burns in the pit of my stomach, but I also do really have to pee. "Spencer, please."

"Hold it," he demands through gritted teeth, kissing my neck and then slotting his knee between my legs.

I clench instinctively, and I can't help but test the waters. "Or what?"

"Or I can tell your mother what a bad girl you were today. So unhelpful, wasting my time and giving me back-talk. She'll be so disappointed in you."

"Wow, Spence. Threatening me with my mother, how kind of you," I retort, even though his words are undoing me. I grind down on his leg and feel my bladder pulse with need. My teeth grit when he bites down on my shoulder.

"I'm a kind man."

"Kinda mean, maybe," I whimper.

"Not really. All you have to do is hold it, pretty girl. That's all I ask."

His knee lifts higher and I moan to the air. "Fuck. Spencer, I don't think I can."

"You will."

I have a brief moment of reprieve when he drops his leg, but it doesn't last long because he brings his hand down in its place, deft fingers slipping under the band of my shorts and toying with my clit.

"That's not fair," I sigh, weaving my fingers through his hair.

He smiles, nipping at my jaw. "Aw, poor thing."

His fingers are relentless, rotating between flicking at my clit and plunging into me and spreading me apart, and it's making it extremely difficult to do what he's asking. I feel an orgasm building rather quickly, but I can't quite tell if that's just because I'm so turned on, if it's my bladder, or both. My thighs are trembling and the pressure is getting tighter.

"Fuck, I— I can't... I'm g—onna..."

The orgasm rips through me beautifully, a brand new feeling that I have to sort-of subside to keep from completely letting go all over his hand, but I can't help it. My hips cant back and forth, and I feel my shorts warm a little as I come down, and suddenly I clench my legs together, whimpering and stopping myself from continuing. The pressure hasn't let up at all, and now it's even harder to hold back.

"I'm sorry... I'm... I'm still trying."

Spencer captures my mouth in a tender, teasing kiss as he coos, "I know... You're trying so hard." His fingers glide through me softly, and then they're gone and taking my bottoms with them. The fabric falls to the floor, and soon his pants are gone, too.

"Can you hold it a little longer, sweetheart?"

"I can try," I sigh out in one quick breath, looking down and already feeling overwhelmed at the sight of his erection.

I'm not going to last long.

Spencer turns me around and bends me at the waist, using one hand to wrap around me and rub my clit as the other guides himself into me from behind.

I yelp, then groan as he fucks me hard.

My face is pressed flat against the wall, and I try to focus on that feeling instead of this new angle and all the pressure it's putting on me. I'm clenching so hard, and Spencer is loving every second.

"God I love how tight you are, trying to be good for me..."

I want to tell him to stop talking, because his words always push me over the edge, but I have to focus so hard on nothing but this goddamn wall in front of me to keep from making a mess. And with each searing thrust he throws my way, that just becomes harder and harder.

He shifts a little and hits a particularly good spot, making me yell again as I relax and start to lose control— but only for a second. I still want to try, so I clench again and whine as I feel the warm liquid roll down my leg and the beautiful burn I'm feeling.

Spencer groans and goes harder then. He wants me to break, and honestly, it might not be long until I do.

"I know you want to, little girl," he tempts, sliding his hand up to press on my bladder. "Am I making it harder for you? Huh?"

If I could punch him, I would, but I'm afraid all I can do is beg him for release, the pressure almost too much. But because I still like to make things difficult and I'm not completely fucked dumb yet, I decide to add some flare.

"Please, Daddy, can I let go?" I whine, and he pauses with one of his own. I feel his hand slide off my stomach and weave through the roots of my hair instead, pulling me up to meet him.

He whispers hotly in my ear, "If you want to act like a greedy little slut, then by all means. Go right ahead..."

It's hard to tell what his intentions are after we move on from this position, but right now, I don't really care. Because no matter what consequences come with it, it's still permission all the same, and I'm not going to last much longer anyway.

"But I'm not going to keep fucking you through it. That's on you."

There it is.

So, what?

He stays inside me, hard and pulsing with need anyway, so I rock myself back and forth on him and reach down to rub my clit as I bring myself to the edge again. I keep trying to hold it until I'm ready to orgasm, and thankfully that doesn't seem to take very long.

Within seconds, I'm coming. I feel it all with a shout, letting my body tense and release, and Spencer grabs my hips to keep me from falling over. His blunt nails digging into my skin only add to the insane pleasure that courses through my body, and then the dam breaks not long after.

I let go in small spurts, still trying to have some control over how I do this, because I still want to drive him mad. So I turn my head and try to look at him, throwing his words in his face.

"I know you want to fuck me through it, Daddy... I'm still trying to hold it for you, so you can. Please..."

"Fuck," he hisses, giving up and pushing me to the wall again. He snaps his hips back and then forward, and it takes all I am not to scream at how good it feels.

This time I really let it all go, allowing myself to relax and revel in all the sensations coursing through me. Just like I wanted, Spencer fucks me through every second of it, until I have nothing else to give but mindless whimpers of over-stimulation and gratitude.

I don't even realize I'm coming again until my body jolts with the sensation, and then Spencer follows, running his hands along the backside of my body anywhere he can reach as he does.

Once we're both tired enough, he pulls out and gently turns me around to face him. I almost whine at the loss of his warmth, but he's pressing me to the wall again and kissing me before I can protest.

I don't know how long we stand there and make out, but eventually I shiver, feeling cold and... dirty. Don't get me wrong, I definitely don't regret it, because it was hot as fuck, but... Now? In this moment, after the fact?

I pull away from him and sigh. "You should have just let me go to the bathroom. Now we gotta clean this up."

Spencer ponders for a moment, looking down between us and then back up at me before shrugging with a shit-eating grin.

"I told you to hold it. Maybe you should work on listening to me."

I punch him in the arm, and he laughs.

"In your dreams, old man."

———

Evening comes in the blink of an eye, and I swear it's the happiest I've ever been. Sneaking out of the house like a teenager in love with someone she knows is fundamentally wrong for her is probably the most accurate way to describe what's happening, though Spencer is only wrong for me in a completely different way.

All the same, no matter the reason, he makes it hard to remember why.

It feels so good—so deliciously right—after all.

And how couldn't it; I'm absolutely elated, heart beating wildly as I race down the highway with the windows all the way down. Spencer squeezes my hand, trying to let loose, but I can tell he's utterly terrified by my speed. It makes me laugh.

When I finally pull over into a small clearing some miles down a random side-road and put the car in park, he sighs. "Where are we?"

"Dunno. But it's secluded. Moonlit. Romantic."

Each word that escapes me is punctuated with a kiss on each of his fingers.

"It's... Unsettling."

I can't help but laugh again, unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing over to his lap. He shifts uncomfortably but helps me straddle him anyway, rolling the seat back as far as it can go as I tease him with neck kisses.

"Are you afraid of the dark, old man?"

He groans my name in warning when my teeth bite down on his shoulder. I know I can't mark him. It upsets me greatly, but I have to at least give myself a little taste.

So, when his hands tighten around my waist, I whine and settle for his lips. I kiss him eagerly, and by the way he's responding, any qualms about being in this "unsettling" location seem to have vanished. His hands roam my body reverently and eventually help guide my hips as they rock into him with desperate conviction.

I welcome his tongue with my own and thread my fingers through his hair, already feeling the heat of the summer air cling to my body as the air conditioning dissipates. The windows are already starting to fog.

Spencer notices my urgency and breaks apart with a hum of amusement. "What's the matter?"

"I want out of these damn clothes."

"Well, why didn't you just say so?"

I don't even have the energy to tease him back. He's giving me what I want with no obstacles other than the fabric between us, and I couldn't have asked for anything more.

It's a little difficult in such a cramped space, but eventually I am completely bare in front of him, save for my underwear. I've removed Spencer's shirt, but his slacks are still on, and I'm in the process of helping him out of them when he laughs again.

"What?" I ask, eyebrow raised.

"Nothing... I'm just surprised you even wore any underwear to begin with. Surely you knew what was going to happen tonight..."

I roll my eyes, but my smile never wavers. "Do you or do you not remember how this whole thing started? You love my underwear, and you love taking them off of me... I did this for you."

In agreement, he tenderly slips his middle finger under the seam and pulls the fabric to the side, and I nearly whine as he looks me over, the corner of his bottom lip pinched gently between his teeth. He's so fucking hot it physically hurts me. It makes me pathetic.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he finally offers, dragging a careful finger through my seam. I gasp at the sensation and feel myself start to tremble when he gently flicks at my clit. It's so featherlight, barely a touch at all, but still enough to drive me mad.

I need him. Now.

"Anything for you," I breathe, lunging forward to kiss him again. He welcomes me with fire instead of the amusement I'd almost expected from him. Usually, it's a dig at my eagerness, but tonight he's just as eager, just as needy, and the equal reciprocation has me in shambles.

It doesn't take long to find my way to him. I've finally managed to free his erection from fabric confines, and instead of fully sitting on him, I slick him up with my arousal, grinding along the length of him as he leans his head back and curses to the air. The friction is low-simmering and beautiful, and nowhere near enough to get myself off, but that doesn't matter to me right now. It just feels so good, and seeing Spencer tensing and twitching beneath me, feeling his hands tighten over my breasts as I rock back and forth... Reveling in this tension before truly giving into our carnal desires is honestly just as good as the sex itself. If I could etch this feeling, this erotic slow-burn of a moment, into my soul for all eternity, to remember in vivid detail for as long as I was alive and breathing, I would.

I'm so wet, so hot with sweat and aching with desire for this man, I can barely stand it.

My hand reaches down between us and takes him in a firm grip. I stroke him slow and tight, to which Spencer hisses, forcing himself to look down as he shakes his head.

"Fuck, you're perfect..."

The genuine praise makes me tremble again, warmth flooding my bloodstream. I start to quicken my pace, but his hand reaches down to grab my wrist.

"We have to get out of this damned car."

Before I know what's happening, he's opening the door and exposing us to the open air. He leads me outside, then opens the back door and guides me to the back seat, laying me down on my back. I lean up on my elbow to watch as he towers over me, sliding his pants all the way down and watching me with hungry eyes.

I can't help the urge that overtakes me then, readjusting my underwear again so that I'm exposed to him. Ready. Still, no teasing from him about how ready I am. There is only fire burning behind his gaze and a determination to make me feel every single flame as it dances brightly over my skin.

I can tell just by looking at him right now, barely illuminated by the moon in the open sky above us, Spencer is going to absolutely ruin me.

He comes forward and reaches down, both hands tugging at my underwear until they literally tear at the seams. The sound is so jarring and unbelievably hot that feels almost pornographic. I've never been so turned on in my life. He knows it, too, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he tosses the tattered cotton away like it's nothing at all, then proceeds to adjust me to his liking, folding my knees up to my chest and giving himself the deepest angle he can possibly get.

"Ready?" he asks, that fire in his eyes telling me he already knows the answer.

"Always," I tell him, pulling him down to connect our lips.

He pushes into me then, a steady full movement that doesn't falter even once. I take it happily, humming into Spencer's mouth as he starts to move his hips. The car gently rocks underneath me, the smallest of creaks sounding under the upholstery. Between that and the snapping of his skin to mine, the crickets chirping in the background, and the thick, heavy whirring of our breathing being so close together in this small space, it truly does feel like the perfect summer night.

This is what summers are made for. Passion. Heat. Want. Wildfire. Pure sin...

That's what it is. Spencer's teeth leaving unashamed marks on my skin when I'm not allowed to return the favor as he fucks me in the backseat of my mom's old car, nothing around us but the moon, the stars, and the sweltering summer heat... There would be time for guilt later, when we return to the beach house, and possibly even along the drive there. But for now, I don't feel guilty. I'm completely aware of my surroundings, of my situation, and yet there's not an ounce of guilt to be found anywhere in this car.

That alone is the biggest sin of all.

SUNDAY MORNING / 2 A.M. / SPENCER

My limbs are barely awake when I shuffle down the hallway and sigh heavily at the sweet promise of a deep sleep. I feel tense, but I know that's only because I have to keep my departure a secret. I won't fully know peace until my head has hit the pillow and my consciousness has drifted away for the night.

Eve is an early riser. I won't get much sleep, but the few hours I will manage to round up will be worth it. And I'll go to sleep happy.

Y/N is still all over me, which is dangerous. Her aura, her smiles and her laughter, her sighs and her pleas, her fingernails trying not to leave marks on my back even thought it's all I want—All of it is such an enormous part of who I am now, that every second I'm in Eve's presence, I start to wonder if she can feel it. I hope not, but as a man who has proudly worn and reflected the attributes of every woman he's ever loved, it's a scary thought.

So scary, apparently, that it seems to have manifested a near-heart attack. I know I'm not actually having one, but the sharp pain I feel in my chest when I open the bedroom door and find Eve, awake and sitting in bed with a distant look in her eyes, for a split second, could have fooled me.

"You're up early," I say, closing the door and walking to my side of the bed. My heart is beating so fast, my nervous system working on overload to keep up with the amount of signals and sirens that are blaring in my brain.

Eve doesn't look at me, but responds somberly. "So are you."

How long has she been awake? "Yeah. Couldn't sleep. I wanted to take a drive..."

She hesitates for a moment as I climb into bed and nudge her leg with my own.

"Is everything okay?" she asks.

No.

"Yes. I'm sorry if I worried you." I take her hand in mine, but she still can't look at me. It frightens me. "What's wrong?"

"I don't... I don't know... Something just feels weird, and I don't know what or how to explain it."

"Like... With the house?" I feign confusion, easily disguising the fear that lies underneath, and it seems to work; Eve concedes.

"No," she sighs, turning to finally look at me. Her eyes are tired, and she looks like she's embarrassed. "I don't know... I've been getting this weird feeling lately, and then you disappeared for a couple hours tonight, and I guess I just..."

She trails off, and I sigh, hoping to put her mind at ease. "Eve... You know I love you, right?" They're the right words to say, but they feel evil coming out of my mouth. They're... I don't want to say they're not true, because in some way I still do love her. But... Not how she wants me to. Not how she loves me back.

"I know," she cries apologetically, falling her head onto my shoulder with a dramatic thump. It's a mannerism that reminds me so much of her daughter, I feel another sharp twist in my gut. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"There is nothing wrong with you," I comfort her quickly, squeezing her hand. "It's okay, I promise."

"No, it's not. It isn't fair for me to just assume you aren't happy in this relationship when you've done nothing to show otherwise, and then act all grumpy and accusatory. It wasn't right. I should have just talked to you about my... weirdness, and gotten it out of the way. I'm sorry."

"I appreciate that," I tell her. I'm relieved that she still doesn't know the truth, but my heart is still racing and I can't seem to get those damn warning sirens to quiet in my head. "Still, I'm sorry for worrying you. I wasn't tired, and it seemed like a perfect night for a quiet, mindless drive."

"Mmm, you're right," Eve agrees, leaning into me and glancing out the window. She takes a deep breath and kisses my neck, right where her daughter had been only hours before. "Next time, invite me along?"

"You got it." It's an empty promise, but it makes her happy. It keeps her unassuming.

We fall asleep together, but my dreams belong to someone else.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #mercy after hours #spencer reid x reader fanfic #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #summer of sin

91 notes · View notes

auspicioustidings · 8 months ago

Text

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 1

Winsome Wee Thing

Summary: This is the start of a story from this concept. You fall in love and you learn loss more ways than one. Words: 3.9k TWs: major character death (temporary), miscarriage

Parts: 1 2 3

You and your boyfriend's Lieutenant disliked one another immensely and immediately.

For you it wasn’t so much that the hulking idiot was in a balaclava, although you found the skull pattern so teenage boy edgy that it caused a cringe deep enough to feel right through your molars, it was the obvious dismissal he had for you. For Simon it wasn’t so much that Johnny’s newest pretty little bit was a smart arse, although he could practically feel the ‘not like other girls’ radiating off of you in waves, it was the obvious disdain you had for him. The first impression set the tone for what became a horrid relationship.

–

“This is my Lieutenant, they call him Ghost but I believe he prefers to be called-”

“That’ll do.”

There was something about the way he cut the puppy dog that was your boyfriend off that riled you a little.

“Nice to meet you, Ghost. Is that your gamer tag or something?”

“Never been one for games. You a gamer girl?”

“Not enough to have such a cool nickname.”

“Oh I’m sure we could come up with a nickname that would suit you princess.”

Gaz, who you did like, spent the rest of the night meditating while Johnny remained clueless to the simmering hostility between the two of you. Price didn’t really seem to know what to make of it all, but you found you had a natural respect for the Captain and as time went on, he was the one that could always tell you and Ghost to knock it off if he could see a fight brewing.

–

Johnny had been so excited to introduce you to his team and his team to you and the only thing you and bonehead could seem to agree on was that you would pretend to be civil when Johnny was around. So the jokes were underhanded but could be brushed off as humour, the vitriol was kept for when his back was turned, the eventual birthday presents were tactfully meant to appear innocent but actually be biting insults and the all out war that was had around a pool table was played off as healthy competition.

If it has been anyone but John MacTavish you’d have dumped him purely so you would never have to see Simon Riley again, but fuck you fell hard and fast for Johnny. You didn’t even fully remember your first meeting. It had been a blind date and you thought you had been stood up so got well past merrily drunk at the bar of a nice restaurant. You had not been stood up, your date had broken down in the snow and in the hours you had been drinking the flurries had become a full blizzard. But that wasn’t going to stop Johnny. In the middle of a backroad with a blizzard beating down and no signal to call he had hiked his ass all the way to you, getting there just in time to catch you wobbling out the door.

He had been a gentleman, hadn’t taken advantage. You woke up the next day with a handsome man bringing you breakfast in bed and apologising profusely for the whole thing. He had slept on your couch and admitted sheepishly that he had walked you home. From what little you did remember, you had made it difficult by starting a snowball fight and wanting to make snow angels every 5 minutes. You remembered the scent of pine and a roaring fire that enveloped you when he had bundled you in his jacket, breathing in and being transported to a log cabin in the Scottish highlands in winter, safe and drinking something warm with a hint of whiskey.

If you hadn’t already been falling for him after his bashful teasing that morning, you were flung head first into it when you spent the next week looking after him when his gallantry earned him the worst cold known to man. He was a big baby when he was sick and that combined with the terrible sense of humour that he had made you desperate to learn more about him.

–

“Ye cannae be mean tae me, I’m naw long for this world!”

For such a large man, he really was like a little kid bundled up in blankets and whining.

“Uh huh, that’s very valid and very sad but you still need to take your medicine.”

“I was never any good at swallowing, maybe ye can give it tae me as a suppository.”

Ridiculous man.

“Aww come on, swallow like a good boy and maybe we can talk about that suppository when you’re better.”

“Fuck, where have ye been all my life?”

His loopy grin nearly made you plant a kiss on his lips regardless of how ill he was, but instead you just ruffled his hair when he knocked back the pills and wondered how you were ever going to keep from loving this man.

–

The second date he had left you with a fond kiss at the doorstep after a wild night of earning enough tickets at the arcade to win him a little plush skull toy. He had been obsessed with it when he had first seen it, had told you he needed to win it for his Lieutenant. You thought that was adorable and had put your frankly suspiciously good reflexes to work absolutely rinsing the whack a mole for every ticket you could get from it. Of course had you known then that Simon Riley was the biggest ass on the planet you’d have hoarded your tickets and gotten 300 packets of Haribo instead (or so you’d like to think, but you knew deep down you could never have denied Johnny knowing how bright he smiled when he had traded the tickets for that stupid plush).

By the third date you wanted him so badly that you felt like a bitch in heat. You started to think that maybe you were making a fool of yourself with how calm he seemed whenever you sneaked a touch or whispered a filthy promise. God you liked him so much, it was killing you that maybe he didn’t feel the same. You needn’t have worried as it turned out, date number 3 was when John MacTavish had completely ruined you in a way you had not expected.

–

“This was really nice” you said, a bit embarrassed if you were honest and avoiding his eyes after he walked you to your front door.

You had been a menace the whole evening. You had never been some sex kitten but fuck he just brought it out in you without even trying. He probably thought you were ridiculous now with how you had tried to be all sultry the whole way through dinner. Fuck, your hands had wandered something awful during the movie as well and you felt the humiliation from it burn from your ears to your toes. He didn’t want you the way you wanted him and you had pathetically thrown yourself at him. He probably couldn’t wait to lose your number.

“Open the door.”

Shit. He sounded almost angry. The first guy you had really liked in a long time, maybe ever, and you had totally blown it by being over eager. You shakily unlocked your door and blew out a breath, prepared to go inside and cry over a glass of wine. Instead you were grabbed by the waist and slammed against the door to close it behind you so fast it made your head spin.

John MacTavish’s tongue was down your throat and he had your wrists pinned above your head in a bruising vice grip. You had only just found the sense to kiss back when his lips were gone and instead his teeth were sinking into the delicate skin of your throat. The whine you made at that was all animal, as was his answering growl.

“Next time ye misbehave like that I’m going tae bend ye over the dinner table and fuck ye hard and proper in front of all those nice, fancy people.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You had never gotten so wet so fast in your life. The nice lace panties you had on under this dress were soaked right through. He bit off a curse and your legs nearly gave out when he suddenly let you go and backed right off, dragging a hand roughly through his hair.

“Fuck, sorry. Dinnae hate me, I wanted tae… our first time I mean, I had it all planned oot. Which makes me sound like a creepy, presumptuous bawbag. And now I’m being a fucking reprobate and pinning you tae the door without even asking first.”

Oh my God. You could not just fall in love with a man after 3 dates. And yet looking at his blown out eyes, how his body thrummed with barely contained lust for you and how he nearly vibrated with the effort of holding himself back because he wanted to treat you right… you had fallen in love with a man after 3 dates.

“I thought…” you said, your hand coming to rest on your flushed chest as you tried to find the words. “I mean at dinner and then at the movie, I um… well I wanted you to, you know. I thought maybe you didn’t want to? Which is fine obviously. I mean if you didn’t want to.”

The whiplash from going from lust to humiliation to lust and back to embarrassment was not something you were enjoying. You looked at him, he looked at you and after a few long moment the two of you burst into laughter. What a bloody pair you made. He came over and wrapped you in his arms, that wonderful scent that just gave you a feeling of contentment deep in your bones sinking into you.

“I want to. Was hard for the whole film, couldnae move that popcorn bucket or someone was getting an eye oot. Wanted tae spank ye red raw for all that teasing” he confessed into your hair, so sincere and blunt about it that you weren’t sure your pussy was likely to forgive you if you didn’t go out of your way to tease him next time.

“Wanted?”

He laughed, probably because you sounded somewhat like a petulant child, and leaned back, hands going to gently cup your face. Looking into his eyes felt like a gentle falling. Falling into a warm bed on a cold morning after a hot coffee, falling into the first fresh powdery snow of the year, falling in love with a man you hardly knew but felt so much like coming home.

“Was planning on asking ye tae come with me up North. Got a nice cabin in the Highlands that I usually rent oot since my Captain is always going on about having a backup plan. Want it tae be perfect.”

“You don’t have to go to all that trouble.”

Nobody ever had before. In your somewhat limited experience men wanted to get to fucking as soon as they could and while a few had made sure you came first, none had ever put much thought into getting you into bed in the first place. It just sort of happened. You would never have said you were insecure, but at that moment you felt the crushing weight of feeling that you didn’t deserve this man making such a grand gesture just to get inside you. You already wanted him. And there was no way he wasn’t experienced, how would you ever be good enough to warrant all the effort he was going to?

“Hey, look at me beautiful” he said quietly, thumbs rubbing soothingly across your cheekbones and coaxing your eyes back to his. “I really like you.”

Those four words ruined you entirely. John MacTavish put his heart out there with such simplicity that it stunned you. He could have thrown you on the bed and fucked you rough and savage and you’d have enjoyed it, but instead here he was butting his forehead lightly on yours in affection despite his evident arousal because he wanted more than that.

“I really like you too.”

Instead of fucking, he held you while you cried like a baby, overwhelmed by the care he took with you. He only made it worse when he whispered to you how you deserved to be treated with adoration. He called you beautiful, bonnie thing, mo leannan, winsome wee thing (that one made you laugh). He refused gently when you wanted to take care of him that night, instead laying you down softly on the pillows and lapping between your legs to bring you to slow orgasm after slow orgasm until you were boneless and sated, slurring your speech as he bundled you in his arms and you spoke about everything from your childhood pets to your great hopes and dreams until you drifted off into the best sleep of your life.

–

Your first time with him inside you was in that cabin like he had wanted and it had been the most perfect few days of your life. He had made sure you felt safe and comfortable, insisting you gave the location to your friends and going over maps of the area with you, pointing out where you’d need to go to get signal to check in with them. He bought ingredients for all of your favourite meals and stopped for a snack run on the way to boot. He showed you his test results but stressed that he was putting no pressure on you either way and if you did want to have sex he would have condoms if you preferred. And after all that he made it clear that you did not have to have sex with him if you didn’t feel like it. Johnny would be happy to just hold you for a weekend. As soon as you arrived he taught you how to use the sat phone if there was an emergency. The voice on the other end was gruff but soothing somehow, safe sounding (that at least was something that never changed about Simon, despite not liking the man, you always felt safe with him).

You were ready to explode by the time he finally laid you in bed. He stroked deep and slow inside of you, steady and solid and torturous. You understood then the difference between fucking and making love. It was the first time anyone had ever shown you the latter.

He then proceeded to show you the former in great detail on every surface inside the cabin and on quite a few outside. Your pussy was battered and your clit bruised in the most delicious ways. Your throat was raw from screaming and from being fucked. After a lifetime of swearing up and down it was never something you were interested in, you wound up practically begging for his cock in your ass because there was not one part of you that you did not want dripping with him. And of course he was only too happy to make sure you understood everything he would do to prep you by letting you do it to him first. You couldn’t fucking sit down for a full day after he had indeed spanked you red raw for the teasing you had done on that 3rd date.

A week later you met his family, the week after that his brothers in arms. And then he was gone and you were so worried about him that you constantly felt nauseous. It took years for you to be able to settle when he was deployed, to not spend the whole time imagining him not coming home to you. Because by that time that was what you had built together, a home.

You and Kyle became friends throughout the years. You really did like him, he was easy going and would laugh and let you bitch about Simon whenever you wanted. Captain Price came to feel like an older brother. He was there whenever you needed him, whether it be a car breakdown or because you were in a panic about a handsy coworker (poor guy had broken both hands in an accident the next weekend). And Simon? Well not too much changed there, you dealt with each other when you had to and were it not for your shared love of Johnny you suspected you’d have killed one another.

At least until Las Almas.

–

You didn’t know how you were going to tell Johnny. In fact, you probably wouldn’t. What good would it do? It had sorted itself out. That was how you tried to think about it. Food poisoning had made the pill ineffective for a day, you had gotten pregnant unplanned and unwanted and had lost the baby before you’d even started showing. It didn’t matter that while Johnny was somewhere being a hero you had heard a tiny heartbeat at the doctors. You told yourself over and over again that you didn’t want it anyway. You tried to think about how awful everything felt all the time. The morning sickness, the fatigue, the mood swings.

It was probably just the shock of it, waking up wet from the blood and thinking you were dying. If your first thought had been that you’d rather you die and the baby lived then you tried not to dwell on that. She would have had Johnny’s eyes. He would have wanted a mohawk so he could match his daddy. You forced an image of you telling Johnny and him being upset and not wanting a baby. It was useless. You knew that man. You loved that man. And that man would have gently made sure you wanted to keep it before bursting into happy tears and kissing you senseless.

You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t break his heart the way the last few months had broken yours. Maybe it was selfish, to want to keep this pain for yourself when you knew beyond a doubt that he’d be desperate to share it, to take as much as he could from you and turn it to gentle comfort the way he always did when you were hurting. But you wanted to be selfish over this.

It was a whole new pain when you answered the door and Ghost was standing there. Your knees went from under you and you collapsed with the weight of why he would be at your door. Why would he be here without your Johnny? It was the first time Simon Riley caught you.

You never spoke about the way he held you gently and told you that Johnny was ok, he was alive but injured. He made you laugh through your tears and snot by telling you what a bad patient Johnny was being, how he was about ready to beat up every medic on base to get back to you because “I dinnae need fucking morphine I need tae eat my bird’s pussy”. His Scottish accent on that impersonation was truly dreadful.

Simon never thought he would find himself comforting you. He didn’t like you, he never had. Johnny had never been so serious about anyone and it drove him nuts that you made him so happy. Happiness like that was an easy thing to ruin and you could ruin it if you wanted, that scared the shit out of him. It was even scarier when Johnny had shown him the ring he was planning to offer you.

He never told Johnny how you had broke in his arms that night. How you had told him about the miscarriage in the dark, bled your pain all over him and let it sink into his skin. He had taken it gladly. In the light of the morning you went back to your dislike of one another, but something had changed in the dark.

–

You never did tell Johnny. You and Simon settled then on some sort of begrudging respect for one another. You still argued and bit at each other, but with the knowledge that now you would be part of one another's lives forever through Johnny given that only a few days after he came home he had slid a ring onto your finger.

Frankly you were fucking terrified when you came off of the pill. The only thing that got you through it was, unbelievably, Simon mumbling to you in the pub over a game of pool that you were going to be good parents. Of course Johnny had told him you were trying, but you found you didn’t really mind as you grumbled back an awkward thank you.

You could have strangled Johnny for having such strong fucking swimmers. You hadn't expected to get pregnant almost as soon as you were off birth control and it meant your wedding dress had to be altered to account for the small bump there. The bump he could not keep his hands off. Honestly the man was already insatiable, but fuck he loved you pregnant. He was already talking about more kids and you hadn’t even had the first one, he fucked you and groaned about wanting you pregnant all the time.

Your husband, something you thought you’d never get sick of saying, drove you mad once again in the late stages. You were hornier than ever and he was determined to treat you like you were made of glass all of a sudden. He certainly still gave you as many orgasms as you demanded, but gone was any rough and feral fucking. You loved making love with Johnny, but fuck if you didn’t miss the fucking.

You’d never tell Simon it had been your suggestion, not under pain of death. Neither of you had been attached to any name in particular, but you knew how much Johnny loved his Lieutenant. He was his best friend and they owed one another their lives several times over. There was a good chance that you owed him your life. Your husband had kissed you with so much love when you had asked if he’d like to call your son Joseph and after talking about it late into the night you had agreed that the little human inside you was your wee Joey.

A wee fucking bruiser is what he was, coming into the world kicking and screaming. Ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. You joked that he must have screamed so loud he had damaged his own ears when he was referred to the audiology clinic after a second newborn hearing test. They stressed that you shouldn’t worry over it, but you hadn’t been anyway. Joseph was the strongest most wonderful thing you had ever seen, whatever came of it he had two parents who were going to make sure it never made his life anything less than a grand happy adventure.

Johnny had hated leaving him. Price had hated to ask it, had sent you enough flowers to start your own florist in apology. You understood though, your husband was off saving the world after all. Your heart was in your throat when he kissed Joey’s head and then kissed you soundly. Something felt off with him. The kiss felt different somehow, mournful. Maybe it was just a trick of your memory, hindsight tainting what you hadn’t known was the last time you would see your husband.

–

Simon Riley caught you a second time. John MacTavish was dead.

#mhairiwrites #cod #fanfic #soap x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #eventual happy ending #my guys I wrote this in one go this evening so have mercy on my soul #enjoy all the sprinklings of trauma in here that are surprise tools that will help us with angst later

294 notes · View notes