#spencer reid criminal minds
word count: 1674
warnings!: smut!
I mean it. It is literally all smut. But the end is a little fluffy
Spencer’s lips dragging against your neck, his hands gripping your waist, the cold wooden door against your bare back. You weren’t sure which of these sensations were your favorite at the moment, but you were sure that you never wanted this to stop. He pressed you harder against the wall, keeping himself firmly between your legs. His teeth dug into the nape of your neck, pulling a whiny moan out of your lips at the pain. You both knew that it was a bad idea to leave marks on the other, but you didn’t care right now. Right now all you cared about was the feeling of his tongue soothing the newly bruised area.
“Spencer,” you whined, your head leaning back as best as it could. He pulled back from your neck and looked into your eyes, a dark look in his usually soft eyes.
“I love the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth,” he commented with a cheeky smile. You laughed at him, a bright blush taking over your cheeks. Spencer grinned proudly at your blush before speaking, “Sound it louder for me?”
Without warning, Spencer turned the two of you around towards the bed. Suddenly the hard wall was replaced by your soft sheets. You watched Spencer as he ripped off his shirt and crawled over you, his fingertips grazing your stomach and the peak of your breast. A short whimper left your lips as he circled your nipple. Your mouth opened to moan as he pulled the perked area, but he covered your mouth with his. Something about the taste of his mouth mixing with the pain caused your back to back to arch in pleasure. He released your nipple and used his thumb to massage it, causing symphonies of moans to escape your lips.
“I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” he chuckled to himself. Your hands reached across his back, your nails dragging desperately down his perfect skin. Spencer let out a sharp hiss at the feeling and repaid you by grinding his hips against yours. You could feel him behind his jeans which only made you more excited. Spencer could tell so, with a deep kiss, he let his fingertips drag down your stomach and teasingly rub the clothed area between your legs.
Spencer observed your face as you were overtaken by the beautiful sensations of your body giving up against him. Your whole body trembled in lust, crying out for Spencer to have all of you. He realized that, and he loved the power he was given. He slowly tugged your shorts and underwear off, dropping them off the edge of the bed. He sat up, admiring your body underneath him. Usually you would try to hide yourself, insecure of the burning gaze.. But Spencer’s was warm. He wasn’t scrutinizing your body. He wasn’t here just to take a piece of you and leave. His eyes showed it all. This was more than just sex to him. And it was more than that to you too.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes leaving your body and looking into your eyes. Your face reddened at the dark look in his eyes. You didn’t stay frozen long, though. You sat up and reached for him, your fingers lacing themselves in his hair. Spencer reacted immediately, his arms wrapping around your bare waist and pulling you into him. His lips met yours in fiery passion, firewords spreading throughout both of your bodies. You took this time to spin the two of you around, planting yourself firmly on his lap. Spencer guided your hips along as you grinded against him. One hand left your waist and instead began teasing your clit. You moaned loudly against his lips at the feeling. Instinctively, your spine snapped straight and your hips moved against his hand. Spencer watched you in awe as your head was thrown back in bliss.
Incoherent words fumbled passed your lips as Spencer teased your entrance with his middle finger. His thumb stayed on your clit, sending you closer and closer towards your first orgasm. Right when he felt that you were on the very edge, Spencer began to pump his middle finger in and out of you. You clenched around his finger, feeling your orgasm finally hit. The intense feeling caused your body to lift off his hand, but Spencer wrapped his free arm around your waist to keep you in place. He pumped faster into you, helping you ride out your high. You cried out his name a million times, half of them completely incoherent. When you finally came down, Spencer pulled his finger out of you and placed it in his mouth with a smile. You watched in awe, never having seen that before. You definitely didn’t expect for you to find it so fucking hot either.
“My turn,” Spencer grinned before turning you over and slamming your back against the mattress. Your hand shot out to your nightstand, opening it and showing him the package of condoms sitting inside. He didn’t say anything as he stood up and removed his clothing. You took in his body, a glazed look over your eyes. You had known he was attractive, but being able to see his entire body… moments before it would be pressed against yours… it was a whole different light. You wished you had his memory.
Spencer finished sliding on the condom and repositioned himself over you. He looked you in the eyes as he slowly entered you. Your mouth opened into an ‘o’ position as your eyes rolled back into your skull. Spencer took hold of your legs and pulled them onto each of his shoulders, quickening his pace. He held onto your thighs as he thrusted into you, listening to the beautiful sounds you were making underneath him. Your hands reached beside you, grasping tightly onto the sheets of your bed.
Spencer let out a low groan as you tightened around him. He let go of your legs, allowing them to fall back onto the bed beside him. He pulled out of you briefly, flipping you onto your stomach and pulling your hips up towards his. He entered you once more, a throaty moan leaving him. You moaned loudly into the pillow, holding it in a death grip. Spencer dug his fingernails into your hips, burrowing himself deeper into you. You screamed out in pleasure as he hit the perfect spot.
“There!” you screamed needily, your head back in satisfaction. Spencer reached forward and took a handful of your hair into his hand, yanking you upwards. You sat up on your knees, feeling every bit of him inside of you. His name left your mouth like a prayer.
His hold on you left your hair and instead gripped onto your breasts with one hand, greedily massaging them as he fucked you harder. His freehand rubbed circles around your clit, causing your body to tremble with pleasure.
Spencer’s hand left your breast and moved up to your throat. It only took a small amount of pressure before you felt yourself coming undone around him.
“Spencer!” you screamed as you came, your body shaking. The feeling was so much stronger before, causing your vision to abandon you momentarily. All you could see were stars and fireworks. Had he not been holding you so tightly against him, you would’ve fallen face first into the mattress. Spencer moaned against your ear at the feeling of you breaking a second time. It didn’t take long before he followed you. Both of you rode out your highs together, a chorus of sinful calls echoing off the walls of your bedroom.
When the two of you came down from your highs, Spencer pulled out of you and spun you around to face him. You were confused for a moment before his lips met your once more. Happily, you melted into his kiss. You could definitely get used to this. He rested his forehead against yours as the kiss ended, just peacefully looking into your eyes.
“We need to shower,” Spencer laughed as he pulled away from you.
“Want to save some water and shower together?” you laughed. Spencer didn’t answer, instead he just lifted you up and carried you off to the bathroom.
“Spencer!” you laughed loudly, holding onto him, “You forgot clothes!”
“We don’t need any!”
=
The next morning the two of you were called into work for a case. Spencer had stayed over, not entirely willing to leave you just yet. Whenever the two of you walked in together, your friends watched suspiciously. Neither of you said anything, nor acted like a couple. You just resumed your normal routine. That means you both went to get coffee, said hello to a few people who weren’t on the team, and then made your way to the group.
You and Spencer had decided not to tell them what happened, especially not before a case. So when they fired questions at the two of you, nothing was revealed. It was a normal movie night. Spencer went home around eleven. Nothing scandalous about it.
However. There was a small issue that neither of you addressed.
During debriefing, Emily leaned towards you with a small smile, “I can teach you how to properly hide a hickey. Noob.”
Your hand immediately shot to your neck, alerting the team. Spencer’s eyes widened, realizing exactly what you were hiding.
“Called it,” Garcia said happily.
“We didn’t know until then,” Emily laughed, “You hid it fine. Just needed to surprise the truth out of you.”
You glared at her for a moment, “Is this really the time to be mocking me. We have a case.”
Hotch nodded, “Exactly. Thank you, Y/N.”
Morgan rolled his eyes at the man, “You only say that because you lost the bet. I still want my twenty dollars, case or no case.”
Spencer looked at you with bright red cheeks, but that was the only sign of embarrassment he had. Other than that, he looked really fucking proud of himself.
summary: early in y/n’s and spencer’s relationship, y/n fears the growing distance between them, although what seemed to be possible infidelity, is actually much worse–for spencer.
word count: 1,007 reading time: 4 mins
warnings: angst
a/n: HERE IS THE FINALE!!! I’ve had the most amazing time writing with the talented @goldentournesol. Steph is incredible and so creative, please show her some love! Hope you enjoy :)
masterlist
I was afraid the chocolate he got me would taste sour, but it was luscious. I found comfort in the sweetness, just as I had found comfort in Spencer. It’s been a week since his confession. I also couldn’t help but feel a little ridiculous in my accusations. I had jumped to conclusions and couldn’t see the signs of my boyfriend in pain. The guilt ate away at me for a while, but Spencer let me know that he had been hiding it to the best of his ability. I eventually told him that I wanted to be the one he ran to when he was in pain. Both of us had our fair share of issues with vulnerability and insecurity, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t work through them together.
And so, here I sat, my head in his lap, his hand in my hair like all those weeks ago. This time, when our gazes met, there were no underlying feelings. No words left unsaid. The air was finally cleared and we could finally breathe. The air tasted sweeter somehow, now that I understood fully.
The past week was not easy. Reconciliation was a bumpy road and I was not prepared for the ride. Spencer and I are stubborn, proud individuals. I had almost kicked him out of my apartment that night. I had almost ended the relationship right then and there. What else was I supposed to do when he’d said such vicious things?
But he’d seen the crack in my armor. The room was heavy with the guilt I felt and my subsequent tears were even heavier. The tears fell free before I could even tell them not to. His behavior made sense. I saw it then, he’d squint if the room was too bright and would often ask me to turn the TV volume down. His stories had become less animated, he had become less animated. He was going to sleep much earlier than he usually did. I should have caught on, but I just assumed that his long days had taken a toll on him. Spencer was no stranger to overworking himself.
He explained that he’d gone to countless doctors and I expressed how upset it made me that he was going through all that on his own. I could have been there for him, I could have supported him, but he wasn’t used to having someone to lean on. He was his own protection all his life, and I understood that. I made it clear that he had someone to lean on now, someone who loved him and looked after him.
The doctors had trouble diagnosing him so he referred to a renowned geneticist. She was one of the greatest minds in her field apparently. It was a she, after all, and she had a name. Maeve Donovan. It was easier to have a name. It personified her. She was less of an abstract being and more of a person. I thought about how much of my time and energy she’d unknowingly spent before I even knew who she was. Or I guess I was the one who’d spent it.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, looking up at Spencer, who was focused on the TV now. He finally had the weekend off after finishing a case in Wisconsin. I’d been tasked by Dr. Donovan to make sure that he’s getting at least eight hours of sleep each night. He’d been good at going to bed on time, his issue was with staying asleep more than going to sleep, anyway.
“I’ve been better, but to be honest, I’ve also been much worse.” He shrugged. Spencer’s eyes were never unkind, his soul was too kind to let them show anything other than that. Even now, his eyes were soft, even softer due to the dim light in my apartment.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I sat up to face him. I’d been doing my own research on migraines. Mostly how to relieve pain. Dr. Donovan also mentioned a series of supplements that he had to keep track of. I’ve made sure to incorporate more vitamin-enriched foods into our diet as well as made sure to keep him adequately hydrated.
I recognized the mischief in his eyes before he could even get a word out, “Actually, I think it’s time for my hourly dose of kisses.”
I threw my head back in a hearty laugh before cupping his face gingerly and bringing it closer to mine, “Who am I to deny you your medication?”
His grin was contagious, it went straight to my heartstrings and I felt weightless when he looked at me like that. His hands were perched on my waist and I brushed our noses together once before sealing our lips.
Together we lived in the clouds, sharing the same bubble. We’ve finally rebuilt the fantasy we had before, although this time a newfound trust had formed. However, that is not to say that everything was instantly perfect. Frankly, I think that the inexperience and the unknown is what gives beauty to this world, our world. To me, anything with him was perfect, no matter what the great philosophers say. But they were right in one aspect: defining voluntaryignorance.
The bliss I felt in our intimate space was addicting, it turned my brain into gullible mush. I didn’t want to believe that eternity didn’t exist. How can it not when it feels like this? I refuse to believe it. But harsh reality does not lie, it is only ourselves willing to fall for it. One day, Spencer’s arms would no longer be around me, and his lips would no longer brush softly against mine. The bubble would shatter like glass, the deception following suit. But for now, this lie was a silent agreement between Spencer and I. No matter the blissful ignorance we shared between us; no matter the ignorance of Spencer’s remaining lucidity, I knew this was the only lie we wished to be true.
-
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to be true, to not be true taglist: @sassymoon@jackiehollanderr@gubleryum@cielo1984@allexthakatt@escapingrealities
summary: early in y/n’s and spencer’s relationship, y/n fears the growing distance between them, although what seemed to be possible infidelity, is actually much worse–for spencer.
word count: 3,969 reading time: 14 mins
warnings:angst, cheating allegations, mental illness
a/n:PLEASEREAD!!!! the epilogue/finale for this will be uploaded on @goldentournesol later today!
masterlist
What kind of life is lived when all you’re doing is waiting for the other shoe to drop? Waiting for the inevitability of cruelty? I stepped into a relationship with Spencer never expecting that I’d be waiting for the cord to snap. He led me into a cocoon of safety, one where I never doubted his motives. One I wasn’t sure I deserved.
Three little words can seemingly make or break a relationship, and the words Spencer had uttered confirmed that theory. However, unlike in most relationships–at least the fortunate ones, it wasn’t the three-word spectacle that symbolized the deep passion or confirmation of the shared sentiments. Instead, the dreadful trinity cut me deep, symbolizing the undoing of what we have–correction, had.
“It’s a date.”
I wish I could curse the air, scream into the sky, and stomp at the earth below me, but I couldn’t help but direct all malice to me.
What did she have that I didn’t? It must’ve been my intelligence. Everyday, Spencer was surrounded by the brightest minds–him outshining the rest, although his humbled self would always discredit that matter. With a considerate heart, he would mind voicing his opinions of people out loud, keeping to himself. However, there’s a significant distinction between publicly expressing your judgement and having internal thoughts, though unshared, still exist.
This baffled me, considering Spencer had always reassured me of this particular insecurity, suppressing the disquiet of my thoughts. Would he have lied? He seemingly excels at that, as of recent, among his other accolades. I would never admit it to him, but I would often find myself skimming through the books he loved–analyzing them so I’d better understand his mind or to offer a common topic. All the things I did for him to seem smarter in the past makes me look stupid now. The wasted effort should set every fiber of my being aflame and angered, however, all I can really feel is the doubt and self-resentment pricking at the walls of my chest.
All I can show for it are the blotched texture of my cheeks from incessant wet streaks, the suffocating push and pull of my throat, and the tautness of my muscles from the inability to move. On top of that, a heavy heart that carried the haunting spirit of a failure.
This disposition left me paralyzed on a Thursday night, alone in my apartment. The parallel left me with an incredulous expression. Just last week, I was on the precipice of my relationship without knowing it–senseless to the downward spiral that followed. What would I have changed, had I known this was going to happen? I tell myself this was all on him, but what if it isn’t? What if I led him to do this? To seek love and comfort in someone else.
Spencer’s been out of town for the last four days. I should have kept up with our nightly calls, but the truth is I couldn’t hear his voice without breaking down. His calls were left unanswered and I didn’t even know if that worried him or not. My insecurities had me by the throat and I just couldn’t shake them. Why was I dreading the day he returned? I’d seen his text messages, but hadn’t bothered to reply. I didn’t want him to know that I was festering in my own self-pity, so when I finally answered the call after he texted me to let me know that he was in town, I pretended I was someone else for it.
But then I thought…maybe, just maybe, it was all in my head. Maybe he wasn’t calling her as much as he was calling me, I didn’t even know if it was a her. I still thought that I might be desperate enough for his attention. So much so that I was willing to be the second option.
The phone call was short and dry, but I did my best to pretend that I was fine. He said he would take me out on a date tomorrow. It would be Friday, not Thursday. He said he was busy today and I didn’t ask him what he was doing, I had a feeling the knowledge would only cleave our relationship further. As tempting as it felt to pull away from him even more, I must admit that I missed him. I missed the way his nose scrunched when he was listening to me talk, I missed the way he’d always chime in with his facts and stories. I missed what we had and who we were before things started to change.
I forced myself to get ready for our date the next day. I circled around my apartment like a vulture circling around its prey, as if I’d find any motivation lying around, but it felt redundant so I stopped. I sat on my couch and nervously tapped away my anxiety until the doorbell rang throughout my apartment. Taking a deep breath, I made my way over to the door and opened it to see him holding a large bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. He’d never been one for grand gestures, and I’d never been one for flowers and chocolates, but from him, they were precious. I let myself accept them with a smile, even though the dread was eating me alive from the inside. Don’t cheaters and psychopaths buy gifts for their victims in a way to suppress their guilt? Did I just compare my boyfriend to a psychopath?
“What’s all this for?” I asked him after he greeted me with a kiss to my cheek. I put the flowers in a vase as he spoke, following me through the hallway and into my kitchen.
“Well, I felt bad for postponing our date and you sounded upset over the phone. I’m sorry I technically missed our date night.” Spencer said, tapping his fingers on my counter, waiting for my reaction. I surveyed him under my lashes. His remorse seemed genuine, but I was no profiler. I wouldn’t be able to catch his quirks as easily as he would.
I merely nodded, “Thank you, I love them.” I said, but the words felt like they were spoken from behind me, from someone else’s mouth. His eyes raked over me like they were assessing me, just as mine had a few moments ago.
“What?” I asked, trying my best to convey curiosity instead of acidity.
“Nothing, you just seem a bit on edge.” He said, smoothing a hand over his cardigan. My eyes followed his hand instead of meeting with his. His gaze felt sharp, even though I know he didn’t mean it that way.
“I’ve just been having a hard time at work.” I dismissed the conversation and quickly changed the subject, “So, are we ready?” He nodded, dropping it and we left my apartment.
The slight chill passing between the backs of our hands felt foreign to the skin. I guess I was so accustomed to the warmth and comfort enveloping the appendage that it felt like a phantom limb. I even miss the claminess of his fingers and how my own fit perfectly between the dips in his hand. However, it was difficult to reminisce with the penetrating thoughts of resentment and self-scolding in the back of my mind.
Every other step, Spencer would ask a shallow inquiry, in which I would reply with a mindless response. It’s like we reverted back to the naive touches and suppressed sentences in the beginning of our relationship. However this time, a tense air constricted the blood flow to our heads.
“So, what’s been going on at work?” he hummed, tilting his head towards me. Without meeting his analytical gaze, I responded with a mere quirk in the lips, suggesting a less than satisfactory experience. He nodded, sensing the imminent disinterest of the conversation.
While we walked on, I subconsciously laced my fingers togethers and observed the oscillating space between us. My feet staggered as I took a heavy interest in kicking stray pebbles and counting the cracks on the sidewalk. At this point, Spencer’s baffled yet indistinguishable expression had locked onto the side of my face. I would never mind his curiosity, but this time sent pins and needles shooting down my spine.
Unable to handle the suffocating air, I pushed the words off of my tongue and took a leap, “What did you do yesterday?” I sputtered out, cringing out how desperate and invasive I sounded; huffing, I rephrased my question to be less encroaching. Although why would that matter at this point? We’ve hit our climax, and we’re frankly teetering on the precipice.
“I had to deal with some family business,” he admitted breathlessly, a stutter undetectable in his words. I peaked at him from my disengaged stature, noticing the slight hilt in his voice was gone–a tell of dishonesty that was usually easy to spot. I guess he really did get better at it; they say continued practice makes perfect, right?
My head throbbed at the thought, and my nails dug into the surface of my fist. “Family business,” I nodded, not noticing the pure indignation evident in my tone. I hadn’t even realized that the phrase came out as a jesting scoff until Spencer had called my attention.
“Is something wrong?” He stopped suddenly, straying a few steps behind me as he waited. I could tell by the firmness of his voice that he was slightly annoyed by my reclusive behavior. Everyone had a limit, and Spencer wasn’t an exception to that.
I shook it off, finding my composure once again. I fought the bubbling feeling of impulsivity, the wanting to throw the whole world at him for deceiving me. I suppressed the desire to scream and yell, leaving them hidden in my imagination. I detested the way his eyes would scan over me in a mixed expression of pity and displeasure, adding onto the blaze inside my stomach.
“No.”
My delivery left me stunned, and hearing the tenacity and resolve in my voice was almost unheard of. Although it did set a culpable insecurity in mind, knowing that it sprang from a place of abhorrence and anger. The second the word fell breathlessly off my tongue, it rubbed Spencer the wrong way. We’ve had petty fights before, but as individuals we’ve always advocated for fighting the problem together rather than each other. I hate to admit it, but between the two of us, it wasn’t surprising that Spencer had a sound mind. At least, that’s what I knewof.
He took a deep breath, as if he were resetting himself and shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat, “Let’s just eat something.” Instead of fighting, I heard him add, but of course he didn’t actually say it.
-
I wish I had the privilege of saying that dinner was intense or full of passive-aggressive bickering but instead it was a suffocating silence, only broken by conversing with our server. The room shrunk to the size of an elevator, and the extravagant decor transformed into four silver surrounding walls. Despite being only 3 feet away from each other, our presence felt miles away. At one point, I even contemplated fabricating a convoluted excuse to leave abruptly but it was my pride that prevented me from doing so.
The walk back to my apartment was even more tense. Spencer’s breathing pattern was off. I couldn’t remember when I’d begun analyzing his breathing, but I could tell something was off. The second the door of my unit slammed shut, I knew I was trapped in a vulnerable position. Spencer leaned against the door, dissecting every movement I made. I felt scrutinized under his line of sight, my resolve shrinking into nonexistence while I bit my tongue.
He scoffed under his breath, throwing his coat and phone onto the side table by the entrance. “So are we going to talk about what happened, or frankly, the lack of anything happening back there?” He held a pointed gaze, shifting his weight onto his hip. His tongue swiped the bottom of his lip, patiently waiting for an answer.
A breath was caught in my throat, preventing me from getting any words out. I refused to face him, keeping myself busy by trying to find a place for my belongings. I knew I had to be wise with my next words, however, my impulsivity was, sooner than later, going to send me into a fit of combustion. I found myself teetering at the precipice once again, thinking back to the lies and excuses he shamelessly threw my way. On the other hand, I couldn’t help but confide in the sunlight of our past. With only a few more seconds of running oxygen, I sighed, mumbling a deflecting response, “There’s not really much to talk about.”
The soft bang against the door caught me off guard. Shock ran through me as I turned around with an incredulous expression. My stature unconsciously shriveled into itself in fright as Spencer’s fist slide from the oak door. My mouth hung open, frozen in state, unable to form coherent sentences. Never once had I seen Spencer express himself by physical means, let alone operate on his own anger. Maybe it was the present naivety that lingered in our relationship, but judging by the discreet upset shown on his face, he too was stupefied.
“What is going on with you lately?” I asked, looking at him with a certain level of incredulity. His mouth flew open as his brows rose to his hairline. The once tense hands dropped to his sides as he swiped a few hairs from his face.
He gestured to the air with a nonchalant figure before deflecting the question at hand. “I could ask you the same thing, Y/N.” I could hear the slight stagger in his tone, like he was holding a part of himself back. It must’ve been the adrenaline pumping through his veins from whatever affair he participated in. Frankly it made me question the integrity of his fib; how long was he going to hold out on me?
I couldn’t distinguish between the thoughts of Spencer possibly continuing this fib because of his cowardice or if Spencer truly thought I was too gullible. Both sent a blaze through me that attacked every piece of rationality I had left; it was as if shots of espresso were injected into my veins. Spencer’s elusive response hadn’t helped with the compelling sensation either, leaving me defenseless against my absurdity.
Although, to think of it, is it really illogical to be vexed by Spencer’s vague behavior?
“Me?! I’m not the one who’s being secretive.” I defended, my fists at my side.
“And how exactly am I being secretive, y/n?” Spencer raised his voice, an unfamiliar boom echoing throughout the room. “Please! Tell me ‘exactly,’ how I’m being secretive.” He responded like a petulant child, emphasizing simple words to enhance the condescension in his tone.
“Oh, so you think I haven’t noticed the calls? The way you hide your phone from my view when you get a notification? Do you really think I’m that stupid, Spencer?” I said.
“And, how is that exactly being secretive, y/n? I have my own business to attend to,” he defended. “Frankly, I think you’re the one overstepping here!” Spencer avoided the question per usual, unconsciously switching the scope to me. I felt a bubble rise in my throat, similar to the tightness I felt whenever I cried, however this time, it was from a place of malice.
“I am not overstepping because you are being secretive! I have no idea who you’re talking to! Where were you last week? Where were you yesterday?” I fought to keep my voice even.
“How is that even your business in the first place? You’re not my mother.” His voice cracked on the last syllable, almost undetectable to unknowing ears. He tried to brush it off, using intimidation to distract from the emotion crawling up his throat. Knowing Spencer, he did a rather exceptional job, although at this moment, I suspected a chink in his resolve.
“I don’t have to be your mother to know that something is wrong! Stop deflecting!” I blurted in a fit of frustration.
“You see, you keep trying to tell me that there’s something ‘wrong,’ with me! But there’s obviously some unresolved issue that you’re getting at here to be this upset!” He threw his hands into the air, shrugging his shoulders with an air of arrogance.
“God, do not twist my words here, Spencer Reid! I did not say that there was anything wrong with you, I said there was something wrong. Unresolved issue?! What the hell does that even mean?”
“You know for someone who’s claiming to be so perceptive of what’s ‘wrong,’ you’re really awful at being self-aware. I mean…the attitude, the distance, the–the closed off expression at dinner! I mean wh-what the hell was that!” He grimaced, biting the inside of his cheek as he finished his heated spiel.
I couldn’t help but scoff at his words. Me not being self-aware! “Oh, please. Ladies and gentlemen, a world class behavioral analyst!” I gestured to him sarcastically, like a ringmaster would with his gags, hoping that Spencer could realize how ridiculous he sounded. “You tell me why I was acting so strange!” I was livid, the words that came out didn’t seem to make any sense. I just wanted him to feel what I felt.
“Oh, I’m sorry! Let me play my part,” he pathetically bowed to me, exaggerating his movements. “Here, I’ll sit and do the things that you can’t, and practically feed into all your insecurity!” He mockingly laughed, “because that’s what this is all about right? You’re not getting enough attention?”
I groaned in frustration, “You are so infuriating!” I could feel the anger ripping its way through my skull.
“And you’re so invasive! All I needed was time and space to figure a few personal things out. I’m sorry that we’re not at a point in our relationship where I’m expected to tell you every bit of my life.” He pointed to himself with such ferocity, although it was the pure indignation in his eyes that sent a harsh chill into me. “I’m notcomfortablewithyou, and that’s that.”
I couldn’t ignore the way his words stabbed their way into my heart upon hearing them. They violently ripped open a cavern in my chest and settled there. My moment of hesitation must have caught him off guard and he reeled back slightly, as if aware of what he had said. The air in the room began to shift as the silence danced between us, taunting us.
Beyond my control, my lip quivered slightly as I stared at him, my eyes growing wetter by the second, “Is that…is that why you’re cheating on me?” I asked, my voice coming out shockingly small. I was never the best at showing my emotions and being vulnerable, but if he was going to break up with me, he had to do it now before the dam released.
His eyebrows cinched together, his mouth following suit. He turned his attention away from me, taking his head in the palm of his hands. The tips of his fingers rubbed at his temples while I stood there helplessly. It was as if my words were obsolete in his ears, getting lost in the thick air. His shoulders rolled back and his chest puffed; his eyes were also scrunched closed like he was tired of hearing my voice. “God, y/n,” he whispered, dropping his head, “can we not get into his right now?”
A ball had expanded in my throat, and the gates that fortified every tear I suppressed crumbled. My chest compressed and expanded at the same time, leaving me in an aching loop. “Did… Are you just…” I bit my lip as it continued to tremble, stifling the sobs crawling up my esophagus. I leaned my head back, diverting my attention to the ceiling to save the last bit of my composure.
Soon enough, the fire from before mixed with the saltiness of the fluid staining my cheeks. I had needed some part of me alive–I needed part of me to live for me. Nonetheless, that didn’t stop the constriction of my muscles, contrasting with the exhaustion coursing through my head. At this point, I didn’t know if I was going to fall or peak. I didn’t know if I was on that precipice again or if I was soaring into a disposition much worse.
It was poetic if you thought about it. The pain and exhaustion was my kerosene to an unforeseen ember. He sighed, reaching my prodding eyes once again, “I’m just… I’m getting a headache from all this.”
“Spencer fucking Reid, ladies and gentlemen.” I brought my middle fingers under my eyes, wiping away the pain and grime. I shook my head, biting my bottom lip but not biting my tongue. Not this time. “All you can fucking say is that… you have a headache?” I scoffed. “Well you know what Dr. Reid-”
“Y/N, we’re not getting into this.” He began to cower away, brushing past me to get to the kitchen. Gently pushing me aside, he dared not to look back at my provoked visage.
“No, let me talk” I asserted.
“You can talk however the hell you like, y/n.” Spencer turned around, shrugging his shoulders like an odd air of indifference. His head was still in his clutch, explaining his lack of eye contact. “But I sure as hell won’t be listening to you.”
“Funny how I’m causing you a fucking headache cause your mouth is doing the same damn thing to-”
“Y/N…”
“GOD, can you let me speak!” I huffed, feeling an overpowering shock shoot through my resolve. Sparks fused with the blood in my veins and the adrenaline felt like battery acid. I guess I was soaring rather than falling.
“Y/N, I really don’t want to get into this…” His voice went suspiciously soft, although I knew better than to let that hinder my determination.
“Why don’t you see a doctor then?” I spat, unbeknownst to the animosity tied to my words. “You know what?! Why don’t you fuck them too, since you’re on a damn roll!”
The air changed the second those words rolled off my tongue, however, I was unfortunately unconscious to the great shift. Spencer’s hand left his temple, and his head slowly raised to reach my eyeline. He held a blank expression, but by the indistinguishable twitch in his cheek, I knew his nonchalant demeanor dissipated.
“You don’t know a damn thing,” he mumbled in intimacy, like he was reassuring himself. “Maybe I should see a doctor–MATTER of a fact, I am seeing one,” he nodded mockingly, his eyes lined in a penetrating glare.
My heart sank at his words; the ground below me decayed, seemingly unable to support the withered organ. However, if I had known that the world, myworld, would collapse with an unsettling phrase that would follow, maybe I would’ve preferred falling off that peak after all.
“But I’m not fucking anyone, y/n. I never did.” The words left him breathless and gritted with every syllable, although that didn’t take away from the pure abhorrence towards me.
“I’m sick… Are you satisfied now? My mind is slowly deteriorating, my mother’s illness is slowly killing me,” he cried, “an-and all you care about is yourself.” His face fell to the floor, hiding the blotchy redness invading his cheeks. “Frankly, with whatever lucidity I have remaining… I would rather spend it on anyone better thanyou…”
-
taglist: @rexorangecouny@howdycharlie@honeymilk-4@linthebinbag@andreasworlsboring101@ssareidbby@kyleetheeditor@fanofalltheficsx@jimilogy@lulwaxim@jhillio@m3ssytrash@haylaansmi@meowiemari@ashwarren32@codyf3rnsupremecy@goldentournesol@measure-in-pain@louisetheblue
to be true, to not be true taglist: @sassymoon@jackiehollanderr@gubleryum@cielo1984@allexthakatt@escapingrealities
THAT’S RIGHT OUT TOMORROW!!!! I and @goldentournesol are incredibly excited to have worked on this project, see ya’ll soon
College AU
Summary: Having enemies is stressful, even more so when you’re in love with them and they hurt your feelings.
Pairing:Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst)
Content Warning: Spencer’s a jerk (just my type lmao) | little bit of slut shaming | the reader slaps him | suggestive ending
Word Count : 2.2k
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The history between Y/n and Spencer was… complicated. There was something between them that their friends just couldn’t understand.
On paper, there was no reason for them to dislike each other as much as they did. Y/n was just as smart and sweet as him, capable of everything she tried at.
Even in their past, there were things they had gone through that were similar. Y/n’s friends, Alison and Cleo, couldn’t understand why they weren’t, at the very least, friends. But she always had a look of disgust on her face when he spoke.
Ethan and Knox, Spencer’s friends, assumed it would get better in their sophomore year when they weren’t guaranteed to spend all of their free time together. But he always rolled his eyes whenever she walked into the room.
Even after a rough freshman year, they stayed a tight-knit type of friend group. Every second Friday night was reserved for crashing frat parties or drinking on the living room floor at Knox and Alison’s apartment.
Tonight was the latter. After a few shots of cheap vodka, Y/n was nursing a fruity cocktail Alison had made after quite a long process of trial and error.
When the boys took out their stash of weed, Y/n spoke up. “I’m going to go outside.” It wasn’t that she was opposed to smoking, she just didn’t like the smell constantly. Plus, the boys always insisted on smoking so much they couldn’t see out the window, and she had an important assignment to do earlier that morning.
Somehow, with their tiny salaries and massive student loans, Knox and Alison had a beautiful apartment. Their balcony was small-ish, with a little love seat. They had been together since the very beginning of freshman year which no one thought would last, but it did, and they were a formidable couple. If she were being honest, she was a little jealous of their deep love.
As soon as she opened the balcony door, the still night air hit her. It was colder than inside, but the sweet smell of the summer air made it a far better option.
The sun was just setting in the distance and the sky was the most beautiful golden-pink color. It was the time Y/n always liked to look out her window at during the busy exam seasons, knowing there was peacefulness at the end of the day always made the long days feel slightly better.
Standing out on the balcony, leaning against the rail reassured her that in the end, everything would be okay.
She was so far off in her own world that she didn’t notice when Spencer opened the sliding door and walked out next to her.
“Fuck, Spencer!” She shrieked when his hand came to rest over her lower back. Since she’d known him, she’d learned to ignore the tingling feeling in her stomach, choosing to glare at him instead.
He stepped closer to her so he could lean against the balcony railing as well. It was far too close for her liking. “You know, you could really use some weed to chill out.” He told her, holding the joint closer to her face. “This stuff is theshit, fresh from my guy.” He continued.
Maybe she would be interested in him if he were less cocky and showed a bit more of the emotional side that she knew he had. Something about the fake bad-boy image that he had developed from freshman year meant she liked him less.
“Do you always insist on talking like Snoop Dogg?” Y/n asked, watching him carefully as he looked over the railing and out into Los Angeles.
“I do not talk like Calvin Cordozar Broadus Jr.” Spencer disagreed, always trying to prove he was smarter than her. Of course, he knew Snoop Dogg’s real name. “And do you always insist on being such a tight ass, Miss Goody-two-shoes?” He couldn’t understand why she always seemed to spoil their fun.
She just rolled her eyes at him and stared out into the distance. While he was no longer disturbing her silence, he was still disturbing her peace and alone time.
She didn’t feel like arguing with him either, it was just too much effort. So they just stood there, Spencer smoking his joint while Y/n gazed at the skyline.
“Why are you even out here?” She snapped at him, suddenly feeling annoyed by the smell of his smoking.
“Because I can be, what even is your problem with me?” He was definitely going to find out how she felt now, pushing her to the limits made her snappy.
She rolled her eyes at him, obviously annoyed. “You had so much potential in freshman year. You could have done your doctorate in two years, but you just became a failure, and it really annoys me.”
“Jealous much.” Spencer shot back, anger taking over before he could stop it. “I’d rather be a failure than a slut who hooked up with several douchey frat boys, none of which liked you for any reason other than your body.” He stated casually.
His words stung deep, making her heart feel like it was being ripped open. It wasn’t like she didn’t know he hated her but hearing him say that the people she’d been intimate with never actually cared for her hurt.
"Shut up, Spencer.” She warned, voice darkly low.
The look on his face showed her that he wasn’t going to stop for a second, and it was a face she hated. “It’s not my fault you don’t like the truth.”
“Just leave me alone.” She requested quieter than she would have liked. “You only came out here to bother me.”
Spencer couldn’t stop winding her up now that he’d started. It brought him too much sick amusement. “Or what, L/n, will you sleep with me like you did every other guy?”
Y/n turned around and put her hand up to slap Spencer’s cheek. It wasn’t as hard as she could have hit him but it was the hardest she ever hit anyone. There was a loud sound as her palm contacted his face.
There was absolutely no remorse on her face. He deserved it.
Still stunned and with her hand in mid-air, Spencer snatched her wrist. Then they were standing in a face-off, his slim finger wrapped around her wrist and suddenly there was not one sound. Both of them staring into each other’s eyes. Although Y/n felt threatened, never one to back down from a challenge she scrutinized the different shades of brown she could see.
Spencer was seeing red, his least favorite of all the colors. He was like a bull staring down where he was going to charge. The color of hatred, blood, anger, and passion.
The passion she felt for him. It was surging from where he was touching her, spreading throughout her body. He was the energy source that filled her usually with range but now it was amour fou.
A moment later, Spencer released his grip on her hand and gently moved his hands to her cheeks. Unlike his prior verbal roughness, his thumb stroked along her cheekbones softly and carefully like he was afraid to break her as he lay his fingers under her jawline.
His softness was a complete shock to Y/n who was still gazing into his eyes as if she had never seen them before. The cold fingertips were more delicate than she’d ever expected, dancing across her jawline with such care. She wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced a touch so light.
They stayed like that for a few moments, taking each other in. Both of their minds were on the other, brains frenzied trying to figure out how this had happened, what exactly was going to happen next, and how they felt about that. Spencer was sure he was infatuated with her perfume, obsessed over the perfect blend of coconut and vanilla that held all of his focus.
Before either of them could think about the consequences, their lips were pressed together in a heated kiss. The passion radiated off them, electricity circuiting through them. And it finally felt, for both of them, that every little puzzle piece fit.
Eventually, their lips parted, their eyes flickering open. Spencer was an inch from her face, not believing just how beautiful she was. He held his hands on her face tighter, not wanting to let her slip out of his grip.
“Spencer Reid, I am 100% in love with you.” Y/n slowly let out. She’d just kissed her arch-enemy, so there was no point in not being truthful, screw the consequences.
He smirked, that cute little smirk that had only ever annoyed her. “Damn it, L/n!” He exclaimed with mock anger. “Now we’re going to tell our kids that mum said ‘I love you’ first.” It was odd for Y/n to see him like that, joking, since they were usually at each other’s throats. And now he was thinking about their very distant future, and, god, if it wasn’t her favorite side of him.
She smiled to match his. “Just tell me it back, you dork.”
“I am 110% in love with you.” He counted. “Do you want to come back to my place?”
Y/n’s face turned to worry. “This isn’t a joke, is it?” Usually, this isn’t the type of shit he would pull, but she never knew, and she’d underestimated him before.
“No, no, no.” His fingers were back stroking her cheeks. “I am really sorry about what I said, believe me, I’ll never say something like that again.”
Something in Y/n knew he wasn’t lying. There was no chance he didn’t feel the same passion he did in the kiss. “Well, you could take me to dinner before you try and get into my panties.” She joked.
Spencer let out a light laugh, blowing hot air right onto her face. “Whoever said I wanted to do that, you flirt?”
“Don’t act like you don’t want to fuck me.” The chemistry between them was electric and hot when it wasn’t destructive, and the pair stood there looking into each other’s eyes with desire.
“Let’s go before I do you right here.” Y/n looked at him with challenging eyebrows as he rebutted. “Do you need me to prove it?”
Y/n pulled back from his grip on her face, leaving Spencer standing there like an idiot. “Hurry up then.” She said, looking back over her shoulder with a smile as she went to open the patio door.
Tell me what you think
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(no rape) (happy-ish endings) (no angst endings) (daddy/mommy, cheating kinks) (no guns) (ed/sh) (sh/rape)
Fluff
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