Request: Wattpad- Ooh,can you please do one where Spencer and y/n gets into a really bad argument and then she’s suddenly kidnapped by an unsub?
Word Count: 463
Author: Charlotte
Even after the man had forced you to drive to the middle of nowhere and dragged you into his house, you had no idea who he was or what he wanted. The only thing you could assume was that it was either terrible luck that you were targeted, and they didn’t know you lived with an FBI agent, or he was directly trying to get to Spencer or the bureau in general.
Before you had even been allowed out of your car, your hands had been taped behind your back whilst the same silver duct tape was wrapped around your head several times to cover your mouth and cling in your hair. Over the three days since it was initially attached, you had had it ripped off from your head a handful of times to give you minimal food and drink and for him to listen to you plead. Other than that, the only thing that loosened the tape was your tears which had started to seize due to the lack of water intake. The majority of your time had been left on the floor with your feet tied with rope to a bedframe, not even having them removed when he decided to take his anger out on you.
You didn’t know what injuries you had, but you had gotten used to the taste of blood and with the amount of pain you were in, you were sure there was at least a handful of broken bones at least. You didn’t know how long your torture would last, but you could only hope that your genius boyfriend knew you would have contacted him by now and was on the case.
Your hopes were soon proven when you heard gunshots outside of the room you had been held in, the door flinging open to reveal Spencer and his team.
It didn’t take his genius to see that he had been crying and had been awake since he had last seen you. He rushed to your side, pulling at the tape, unravelling it from you. You let out a cry of pain from its removal, but you were just relieved to be able to breath freely.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head. “I’m sorry too. I love you so much.”
Spencer returned the words of love, pressing his lips to yours, not caring that his team were watching on.
“I just want to go home,” you whispered as he continued to remove your restraints.
“I know,” he said softly. “But we need to get you to the hospital. You’re safe now.”
As soon as your hands were free, you feebly grabbed hold of him. “Please don’t leave me.”
Warnings: Mentions of Kidnapping, Knives, Arguments with a partner
Request: Wattpad- Ooh,can you please do one where Spencer and y/n gets into a really bad argument and then she’s suddenly kidnapped by an unsub?
Word Count: 606
Author: Charlotte
No matter how much you loved your boyfriend, living with someone ended up with things getting on your nerves. Everything that had made you fall in love with him all those years ago no longer seemed to be cute and sweet, some of it pissed you off and at some point, you couldn’t bottle it all up again. With Spencer away for work for the last two weeks, you had thought that the short break from one another would help, but when he came back it all started off once again.
Whilst he had been away, you had tidied the apartment and tried to make the environment pleasant for you both to live in. As soon as Spencer got home, his bag was left in the living room and the next day when you awoke, half the bookcase had been spread around the room. It annoyed you that he hadn’t even mentioned the work you’d put into the apartment, and it was worse that he was so quick to return it to its previous state, but you did your best to stay calm. By the time dinner rolled around and he had stacked his dirty plate on top of the three mugs on the coffee table and it pushed you over the edge.
“What is my job, Spencer?” You snapped.
He looked up at you confused. “You teach kindergarten.”
“Oh, so you do know I’m not a maid then,” you retorted, letting sarcasm drip from every word.
Spencer seemed confused still by your words, not knowing where they came from as you had previously stayed quiet and calm. You picked up the dirty plate and mugs and showed them too him as you begun to stomp over to the kitchen.
“I know you’re tired from work, but that’s no reason to be a slob,” you frowned.
“I was going to put them in the sink before bed.”
You snapped your gaze back towards him.
“Is that why I found six mugs around your desk with varying levels of mould?”
He ran a hand through his messy hair. All he had wanted was a quiet, relaxing evening but you had put an end to that.
“Does it really matter?” He asked. “You always leave your clothes on the bathroom floor, and I just put them in the basket without complaining.”
A shocked laugh escaped you. “Without complaining? I could have left my shirt hanging over the rim of the basket and you’d act like I’d thrown the whole thing everywhere.”
“I’m sorry if it bothers me to want to go for a shower after a long day at work and find your bra in the tub.”
Any semblance of reason had now been washed from you. You let go of the dishes far from the edge of the sink, not caring about the clatter of them hitting the metallic bowl.
“You know what?! I’m done,” you exclaimed. “I can’t stay in this fucking apartment.”
“Where are you going?” He asked, rising from the sofa where he had been sat.
You grabbed your car keys as you slipped on the first pair of shoes you could find.
“Anywhere but here.”
Before Spencer could say anything else you escaped the apartment, slamming the door behind you. You rushed down the stairs and out into the dark carpark, unlocking the driver’s door and getting in. You rested your head against the wheel, giving yourself a second to breath. You leant back against your seat, closing your eyes for a moment.
Without a sound, a sharp piece of metal pressed against your neck, forcing a gasp from your lips.
A/N: Surprise I’m not dead! I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins fic swap and got my wonderful friend babyleaf! This was my first time writing for Ralves, hope you enjoy! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader/Luke Alvez Category: NSFW Content Warning: descriptions of penetrative and oral sex, degradation, praise Word Count: 1.4k
I’ve always loved things that come in threes.
When I was little, it was a tricycle. Too top heavy for my childhood innocence, metal bars dented from gravel flying up as I taught my body my first love, what flying felt like. I can still hear my mom’s laughter and feel my father’s arms wrapping around my stomach and pulling me back, keeping me from the expanse of the asphalt. My first love was brought to me in threes.
As I got older, it was clover leaves. I loved finding four leaf clovers, but there was something particularly enthralling about being surrounded in a sea of trios, green triplets cushioning my toes. I would pick them and bring them to my mother, and she’d chastise me, reminding me that only the four-leafed plants held the luck she thought I was searching for. But it wasn’t luck I wanted, it was company.
As an adult, I found threes everywhere. Primary colors. The hands on ticking clocks. Suits, trilogies, stoplights, blind mice, guitar chords, and love. I noticed three in everything, made it a point to learn three in every language a search engine could give me.
When I met Luke Alvez, I thought my trilogy of findings was over. I had found my duo. I had learned what two fingers felt like, how they learned my body and carved their ownership into my muscles. Felt his lips pressing constellations into my shoulder blades, his two hands caressing my chest and dragging up to tilt my head to the side, moving to capture me in a much too short kiss. His touch left twos all over my skin, all over my body. When I met Luke Alvez, I kissed threes goodbye, leaving them behind for a lifetime of duologies.
Luke and I developed a routine over the next two years, of loving and loving. I memorized what he felt like inside me, memorized his kisses, memorized him in every conceivable way. I looked to Luke Alvez to teach me what good meant, and he taught me what it felt like, too. He was my ethos, balancing me between vigilance and passion. He kept me from my fire and kept me in my ice.
When I met Spencer Reid, everything changed. From the moment I saw him, my love of threes came back in waves. His curls fall down, each ringlet in three turns. His speeches, all three points to be made. Every handshake with three squeezes, every laugh with three crescendos. I never thought threes would be mine again, until I saw the look in Spencer Reid’s eyes when he looked at my Luke, and Luke looked at him the same way.
When I met Spencer Reid, I knew then and there my duo would soon become a trio. There was no way around the way he and I, he and Luke, and Luke and I all looked at each other. Luke came home that day, puppy like and swooning, talking Roxie’s ears off about his new coworker. I couldn’t blame, after all I did, and do, feel the same way about our new object of affection. I was just a bit better at hiding it than Luke. How Spencer and his brain didn’t piece it together sooner, I’ll never know.
Luke had confessed over coffee, sputtered words and burnt tongue spilling every secret to Dr. Reid. I never thought I’d see the doctor turn so red, but I soon found out he could turn me redder than that still.
Spencer Reid taught me the meaning of trilogy, of three, of us. Luke and I thought the duo was the ending, that the two of us had achieved something unlike anything gifted to humankind before. We were proven incredibly wrong the moment Spencer Walter Reid stepped into our life. The power of three was something I had never considered before I felt his love, his prowess, his consideration.
I memorized Spencer, too. The way his hands felt around my shoulders, pinning me back against him with his writhing hands making their way down my body. I memorized his teeth biting at the flesh between my neck and shoulder, the sound of his belt sliding from belt loops, memorized the way he made the hairs on my neck rise with the simplest whispers in my ears. Beyond that, I memorized the way he kept me calm. The way the brushes of his fingertips assuaged my beating heart, his careful ranting filling empty longing spaces between Luke and I’s silent words. He was our logos, our life’s reason and animus. He kept us bound but bated and every bit of him is in our grasp.
That wasn’t the only way he kept us bound, no, the man was deft and practiced with silken rope. Nothing burns in my memory quite so much as the memory of tied hands behind backs and fatigued knees from sitting in front of him, head craned to stare up at his chiseled physique. He’d trace my jawline, pry my mouth open, let his fingers take up precious real estate in my throat.
“What a beautiful, disgusting thing you are. Opened up for me, hm?” He’d mock me, nothing but love behind his eyes as I stared, nodding.
“All for you,” I’d whisper, choking on his hand in my mouth, my words wrapping around him. He always understood the sentiment. Luke would come around then, sliding my shirt off my shoulders long enough to bite his ownership into me.
“Pretty girl,” he’d say, rough hands smoothing up over my chest, reaching up to unbutton Spencer’s slacks and pushing my head forward to take him into my mouth. I remember looking up through shortened eyelashes and seeing his head thrown back in glory and Luke muttering, “Oh, good girl.” He always could sing my praises. That was something else I’d memorize too, the ecstasy loving them provides.
Spencer would pull me up then, fist in my hair and throw me onto our bed, snarling, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet. He may be nice to you, but I won’t be, not yet. You’ve got to earn it.” My face pushed down into the bed, his hand against my back and Luke’s hands running up my legs to trace at my heat, Spencer had pushed into me, moaning something unintelligible for the first time in his life.
He’d use me, thrust into me with a fistful of hair pulling my head up just enough to wrap around Luke, who would caress my face and tell me how good I was being, how sweet and patient. It would only be so long before Spencer would fill me with his warmth, falling over me and pressing kisses to my back, muttering his own praises in languages and feelings I would never understand. Luke would follow soon after, wiping my mouth and giving his own kisses to the corners of my mouth, copying Spencer’s lilted praises.
It’s all of these things that I leave memorized, imprinted, in stone in my mind. It’s now that I understand my place among the trilogy, the pathos of us all. My passion, my love, my desire. It turns out that, after all, I do still love in threes. Luke, Spencer, myself. The trio of a lifetime, of a long while, of our little piece of infinity.
Summary: based on the song “this is how you fall in love” by jeremy zucker and a cute tiktok i watched of a first look at a couple’s wedding.
A/N: i haven’t written in a while, so i’ve given you a small blurb to kind of rekick my motivation. also i wrote this almost entirely for my pal who has a thing for marriage.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Reader
Category: SFW fluff.
Content Warning: None!
Word Count: 547
The aisle in front of me is littered in crushed and fluttering petals, the little girl responsible for them skipping towards the altar. I see myself in her, watch my childlike innocence and perception of love make my path down the aisle. When you’re little, love just means, ‘who will hold my hand on the playground when we play tag?’ and I can’t help but think that’s not much different from what love means to me now. It’s less playground and more life, but I know now all I want is someone to be there. Whether it’s during the formation of love or the expression of it, Spencer is the one I want by my side. I can’t make myself look up though, not yet, gaze fixated on my shoes. Will Spencer be excited, grinning from ear to ear? Did someone fix his hair, or is it curling over his collar? Will he cry? Oh, I hope he doesn’t cry. If he cries, I’ll cry and both of us will look ridiculous.
When he asked me to marry him, we were in his living room. He had been fidgety all day, keeping his hands in his pockets the whole day. We had laid out a blanket and pillows to have a movie night, my one request for our date night.
He couldn’t get comfortable, and finally I turned and asked, “What is up with you today?” and when I turned, there was a little back velvet box in his hand.
“Is that…?” I had asked.
He nodded, tears welling up. “Will you marry me?” Of course I said yes, and now here we are, my hands fiddling with my engagement ring around my bouquet, and I get the nerve to look up at him.
He’s not crying now, at least from what I can see at the beginning of the aisle, but when he meets my eyes, I feel everything from the last few years in his eyes. Clutching my arm, Hotch gives me a look that says, Are you ready? I nod as we start to walk down the aisle to him, and I mouth “I love you” to him, and he says it out loud, over the music and our family and friends burst out into joyous laughter. I remember then that Spencer and I are not alone, and grin sheepishly up at Hotch.
“It’s okay.” He whispers. “This is about you, not us.” I settle back down, meeting Spencer’s eyes yet again. He’s starting to mist up, and I shake my head and mouth, Don’t cry! and he laughs. I see the smile crinkle the skin beside his eyes, and I feel tears coming to mine too.
We reach the end of the aisle, and Spencer reaches out a hand for me. We’ve never been one for tradition. Hotch smiles, and hands me away, and I take my place in front of Spencer.
“Hi.” He whispers.
“Hi.” I giggle back, seeing stars and life and love and everything in the eyes of the man before me. I squeeze his hands not once, but three times. I love you.
And that is how you fell in love, and this is how you fall in love, and this will be how we fall in love forever.
Do you ever think about Rossi sitting at his desk and thinking about all the things he said to Strauss and all the things he didn’t say and all the things they did and all the things they didn’t do and the last thing he said to her before she died?
