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fictionfunshop · 4 months
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fictionfunshop · 5 months
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I know it's been a while since your last few asks but I remember that confession at least well enough to know what happened. So NSFW warning in case.
I can't remember what she said she did but she worked with people behind the scenes of tv shows or movies before and at one party they had for something relating to the show/movie, Matthew was appearing in it and he was at the party so she already knew who he was. She remembered him being very eccentric (in a good way) and how she didn't expect him to be so lively and charming(not in a bad way, she implied he was great in every way but she was still surprised regardless of expecting it).
She said how at the end of the party she met him again and he was quite sweaty and obviously enjoyed the party and had a lot of fun. He was incredibly flirty throughout as well. They went to her hotel room after one of them asked to hook up(not specifically saying "hey wanna hook up," but more like "let's get out of here.").
She had makeup stuff on her bed from the same day when she had gotten ready so she threw it aside. She blew him a little, he kissed her all over but didn't go down on her but teased her. When they actually had sex, she said he was amazing and that at one point during it, it was so amazing that he said "keep coming on it," because she came before him and she did...2/3 more times afterwards. At the end he said he wanted to be honest and not lead her on so he wasn't looking for a serious relationship and she said same for her.
At the end she mentioned how last time she heard about him, he had written a children's book and that the show she worked for was a crime show. I remember how obvious it was that it was Matthew which is exactly why I can remember all of this🙃😭
Thanks Anon - now you say it I remember in the original about the make up on her bed
I don't know how i got to be an expert on the confession but appriciate all the questions on it!
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fictionfunshop · 7 months
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Where’s the one shot you wrote based on the confession? I’ve never heard it before and very curious
Sure - You can find it HERE.
Enjoy!!
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fictionfunshop · 7 months
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dude i didnt even know about this 2019 confession thing, i dont care if its about matthew or another actor PLEASE send me the link or at least summarize what it was about lol you have sooo many followers i trust at least one of them will have the link and i can reply fast so you can delete it again
Hi! Okay I checked the link I have attached to the one shot I wrote and took inspiration from and it's broken so I'm guessing that the blog got deleted somehow...
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fictionfunshop · 8 months
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fictionfunshop · 9 months
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A FIC I DIDN'T THINK I NEEDED.... I AM DECEASED NOW @smurphyse!!!
One Way Mirror | Spencer/Hotch/Alvez
Smurph's Masterlist
Warnings: hole in the wall, foursome, DP, oral sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, degradation, humiliation, sex club, slapping, choking, spanking, toys, free use, aftercare
Summary: You like to spend your down time at a certain type of club... anonymity is key, but then one day the boys from the team come in for some nighttime fun.
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Working at the BAU was stressful. Each day seemed a battle, and each night felt like a loss. You had no time for a personal life, nor the energy.
So, you usually ended up here. 
A wonderful club hidden away in a back alley, you spent most of your nights there. Hooking up took too much mental energy, too much work for a mediocre lay. Plus, it was dangerous, and you weren’t an idiot. No, this was the place for you. Each room had a different purpose, and you’d tried most of them. But, this was your favorite room. 
The one with the one way mirror.
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You stamped your hand and headed inside, making a beeline for your room. You were even early so you could get your favorite booth. Dark sultry music played as you waltzed inside and shut the door behind you. 
Guys liked this room because of what it was, an oversized glory hole for them to use. The wall opened just enough for your waist to go through, a soft table on the other side for your chest to lay comfortably on while strange men used you for the night. There was a panel with three buttons on it; one red, one green, one yellow. You always kept it on green, a color system to let the men know they could keep going. So far you hadn't had a problem with anyone. 
The owner told you that a party had booked the room for the entire evening, and your body sizzled with excitement. You loved entertaining whole groups. Instead of the one by one men who came in and out of the room to use you, groups tended to rile one another up, trying to see who could make you cum the most. It was delicious.
Putting your things inside the booth, you stripped down to nothing but a pair of stilettos. With your naked ass bared for any to see as they entered the room, you closed the door around your waist and lay on the cushion in front of you. There was a mirror in front of you so you could see the people who used you. It was optional, but you liked to know everyone who came inside, to burn their faces and the sensations of their cocks in your memory. They couldn’t see you, though, and that was what was the most fun.
There was even a board next to where you lay on display, listing all the things they could do to you in this position. 
The owner always left a bottle of wine for you in the booth, and some lube and toys for the customers on the other side. You poured yourself a glass and waited patiently. People paid for the privilege to come to this club and participate, and anonymity was key. It was exclusive, expensive, and worth every penny.
You were already wet, just thinking of all the ways you would be used tonight, when the door opened behind you. You watched the mirror as the owner stepped in with a welcoming sweep of his hand across the room, “Welcome, gentlemen.”
Your heart nearly leapt through your throat at the group that followed him in. Aaron Hotchner, Luke Alvez, and Spencer Reid stepped through the door and into the lounge. You couldn’t believe it! They said they were going on a guy’s night to a bar, not to a sex club. Was this what they always got up to on their nights out? 
Hotch handed the owner a bill and shook his hand, “We’d like to be left alone for the night.”
“Understood,” he nodded in agreement. He pointed at the lights, “it’s a simple color system. Green means go. Yellow means slow down and pause until the light turns green again. Red means stop, and if it’s pressed someone will come in to check on her.”
He pointed to where your ass stuck out of the hole in the wall, “Ultimately, she’s in charge. Safety is our priority, gentlemen.”
Spencer leaned in with a cocked brow, “Can she even hear us?”
The owner nodded, “And you’ll hear her. She’s a screamer, that one. She’s also the best piece of ass you’ll find this side of the Mississippi.”
“Thanks,” Hotch nodded, quickly ushering him out of the room. He stuffed his wallet in his jacket pocket before shrugging it off. Draping it over one of the lounge chairs, Hotch plopped down in the seat and picked up a cigar waiting for them on the table next to a bottle of wine and some glasses. He lit it as Luke joined him, leaving Spencer watching your ass with wide eyes.
“It’s your birthday present, Reid,” Luke said cheerily, waving a hand toward you as you waited with bated breath and flushed cheeks. “Pick a hole, any hole, my friend.”
Your body couldn’t seem to help itself, your legs spreading wide and your back arching in pained anticipation. Oh, you’d thought about fucking Spencer Reid more than you’d thought about even Luke or Hotch. He’d been your boss long ago that you sinfully wished to screw on his desk, but he left, and when he came back was happy to work under Emily. But Spencer? All you wanted to do was tie him to a bed and fuck him until he was bone dry, pumped full with cum and his moans.
“See?” Hotch told him with a coy smile. “She wants it.” “You don’t know that,” Spencer whispered, but his eyes were transfixed on your slick cunt. 
Luke jerked his jaw toward the wall your ass peeked out of, “Give us a wiggle if you want him, sweetheart.”
You took a steadying breath. Your whole body trembled with excitement. Sure, you’d thought about them all individually… but somehow you hadn’t thought of taking them all at the same time. You truly were living the dream.
You shook your ass tantalizingly, and Spencer’s pupils dilated like saucers. Hotch stood, the cigar dangling out the side of his mouth and nearly making you cum at the sight. He put his hands on Spencer’s shoulders and murmured into his ear. “I told you, everyone who comes here chooses to. Nobody’s getting paid. They pay to live out their fantasies. You told me this was one of yours.”
Hotch took a deep pull off the cigar, blowing out smoke to the side. He handed it to Luke, who took it and set it in the ashtray for him. Hotch’s strong hands squeezed Spencer’s shoulder, and you watched with a dropped jaw as he pressed his lips to Spencer’s neck. 
"There's even a list of things for to do to her," he said, tapping the board with his knuckle. "You get to pick. She gets to take it."
Spencer closed his eyes and sucked in a shaky breath as Hotch smoothed his palms down his sides and slipped off his jacket, handing it back to Luke. He undid Spencer’s tie and let it fall to the floor, then slid his hands over Spencer’s crotch.
“It’s your birthday, Reid,” he murmured as he unzipped Spencer’s slacks. His deft fingers went quickly for his belt, letting it hang open as Spencer’s dick grew hard in his boxers. You nearly bit through your bottom lip as you saw it grow, thick and long… and then Hotch pulled him out of his boxers, dick springing free.
You always knew Spencer was beautiful, inside and out, but oh god was his cock a masterpiece. Hotch ushered him toward you, one of those large hands reaching around and gripping Spencer’s length at the base. He gently pumped him as Spencer stumbled forward. His hands hit the wall around you to brace himself as Hotch lined him up with your already dripping hole. 
“Have some fun. See how wet she is?” Hotch goaded him. He angled Spencer's cock to brush along your folds, so warm and hard against your aching cunt, and you couldn’t help but shudder. “She’s a little whore, waiting for you to use her. She’s just a hole.”
Hotch slapped your ass harshly, making you yelp, and Spencer’s eyes widened as it jiggled in front of him. “Isn’t that right, you little slut?”
That’s exactly what you wanted to hear, to be objectified so you could let go. Hotch pushed Spencer forward, his thick head breaching your hole. You moaned, your eyes rolling back as your walls stretched to accommodate his length. Spencer’s eyes flicked to the wall, goaded on by your sounds. 
"Oh, fuck," Spencer groaned as he inched inside. Your eyes rolled back in your head at his sheer girth. Hotch let him go, and Spencer's hands moved to grip your waist. 
They were strong and firm, wide palms smoothing over the expanse of your backside. He gave you a rough squeeze, then a light slap just to watch you bounce. You didn't even want to hold back your little moans as he rolled his hips to push further inside. 
His cock split you open, stretching you beautifully. You clutched the sides of the table tightly, nearly shredding the cushion as he bottomed out. 
Spencer's voice was strained, but soft as he sweetly asked you, "You're sure you want this?"
"Of course she does, Reid, or she wouldn't be here," Luke told him gently. "Look at her board. She wants to be used and degraded, like the cocksleeve she is."
With gritted teeth you slammed your fist down on the green button, over and over so it shone brightly in their room. Spencer's dick twitched inside you, so sinfully dirty to be fucking your coworker without his knowledge. 
"That's what you want, huh?" Spencer asked softly as he pulled out. You were about to slam that button again when his hands gripped the extra flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise. He shoved his cock back into you harshly, stars rocketing across your vision at the sensation. 
"Oh!" you cried out as he did it again. Soon enough he picked up his pace, railing you roughly into the table. You were sure your stomach would be badly bruised after, and you couldn't wait to see them. "Oh, fuck yes!"
"See?" Hotch cooed, egging Spencer on. "There you go, fuck her like the dirty whore she is."
Spencer seemed to let go then, using you like a sleeve as he rammed into you over and over. Yeah, it hurt, but it also felt so damned good. Your slick dripped down your thighs, his slippery cock holding you wide open for Hotch and Luke to see. 
You whined loudly, yelping each time he hit a deeper spot, one that made you nearly black out. This was so taboo, and Spencer didn't even know just how much. He just thought he was using some random girl in a sex club, but if he knew… maybe they'd all use you at the same time. 
The thought consumed you, and before you knew it, one of the fastest orgasms you'd ever had blasted through your body. Your eyes rolled back, body arching to take even more from his leaking cock. Your walls clamped down around Spencer Reid's dick, body shuddering violently as it took you over. 
"There you go! Look at that drippy pussy," Luke called happily, toasting him with his wine glass. "Fuck that whore, Reid. Use her up."
Spencer panted behind you, his jaw dropped open as he watched his cock disappear and reappear from your stretched hole. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, eyes transfixed on the sight before him. Your body went limp as your orgasm waned, and you watched with bleary eyes as he bit his bottom lip and thrusted deep inside you one last time. 
Cum hit your cervix, sticky and hot and oh so good. Spencer moaned breathily as he emptied himself inside you, shuddering with each thrust until he was spent. 
Hotch stood as he slowed, and when he was done he simply grabbed Spencer by the shoulder and guided him back to the lounge chair. Spencer collapsed into the leather seat, his softening cock glistening in the dim lighting as he caught his breath. 
With that cigar hanging out of his mouth, Hotch unzipped his pants and brushed his thick cock against your folds. They were slick with cum and your own juices, and he let out a soft groan as he grinded against you. 
"Leaky little slut," he murmured, half to himself with glassy eyes. Hotch slapped your ass even harder than before, earning a sharp cry from you. "Let's put this hole to good use."
Stretched and open, he had no problem shoving himself inside. It was strange, as it always was, to have one cock leave you and another enter almost immediately. Hotch was thicker than Spencer, but a little shorter. That familiar burning stretch made you moan deep from your chest.
"You like being used, don't you? What a fucking good for nothing cocksleeve," he said, taking a puff off the cigar. Smoke filled the room, the heady scent of sex and sweat filling up the empty spaces. 
You watched through the mirror as Spencer and Luke watched Hotch. Luke unzipped and pulled himself from his pants, lightly palming his own length as Hotch toyed with your open cunt. His thrusts were shallow, but you knew from experience he was ramping up to something. 
His hand came down so hard on your hip you nearly screeched. Your body shook with the force, but he just laughed cruelly. "Disgusting slut. By the end of the night, you won't be able to walk."
His grip was fierce, fingertips bruising your skin as he stared to fuck you. Hotch was brutal, slamming his hips against the backsides of your thighs and ass roughly. He even pinched and flicked you, grunting deep and grinding hard. 
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks, but you loved it. He used you like you were nothing, just a toy to be played with. You were sure that if you weren't in the wall, he'd be holding you down by the back of your neck and holding your arms behind your back. "Fuck, daddy!"
It came from nowhere, that word, but it seemed appropriate. Luke let out a moan as he palmed himself, Spencer growing hard again as he watched, transfixed, as Hotch brutalized your cunt. 
"That's right, you little bitch," he grunted, his hips slapping against your skin lewdly in the small room. "Take it like the fucktoy you are!"
Your cries and whines echoed loudly, your dripping pussy soaking down to your ankles. It was so much. The heat, the smoke, the brutal fashion in which he fucked you like a madman. You couldn't help it when another orgasm shattered your mind. 
You squirted over his cock, drenching the front of his pants as you screamed in pleasure. Hotch braced himself against the wall, nearly tearing you in two with each snap of his godly hips. 
Your body shook again as you spotted Spencer fucking his own hand, Luke's jaw dropped down as he watched your juices flow from your split hole. It was perfect, brutal and beautiful in its own way, and the memory was all yours. 
Hotch came with a guttural snarl, slamming his head so deep inside you were sure you split in two. His cum spurted into your womb, filling you and pushing Spencer’s further inside. Tears dripped down your face as you gasped, that full feeling nearly making your belly hurt. 
He took a deep breath before pulling out, and both their cum oozed out of your pussy. It globbed down your thigh, running down until it slipped into your stiletto. You watched hazily as he went and sat down on a chair, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head, looking quite satisfied with his pants hanging open and his cock out. 
Luke slapped his hands together, eagerly jumping from his seat. "Looks like it's my turn! Let's see, let's see…"
He went to the small table with toys and lube, twinkling his fingers above them as he decided which to grab. Your eyes went wide as he picked up a thick dildo with straps and some lube. He twirled it in his hand at the boys before turning to you. 
You couldn't help but moan as you watched him drag the tip of it across your folds, gathering up slick and cum. You nearly went cross eyed when he brought it to his mouth and licked it off with a pretty pink tongue. 
Luke tapped your cunt with the flat of his fingers lightly, just enough to make you jump. Your cunt trembled, wondering just what he was going to do with it. He had a devilish glint in his dark eyes, watching you clench around nothing. 
"Let's see what this tight little body can take, huh?" Luke mused as he inspected you.  
He dropped to his knees and licked a thick stripe up the back of your thigh, gathering up Hotch's and Spencer's cum before swallowing it. You let out a shuddering moan at the sight, his hot spit cooling quickly on your skin. 
His tongue trailed up until it reached your pussy, and he delved his tongue deep inside, making you hold onto the cushion for dear life on the other side of the wall. Your whines grew steadily louder as he ate you out, flicking your clit over and over. 
Hotch watched with a smirk as Spencer’s eyes glazed over. It was deliciously sinful to see, but just as you were about to teeter over the edge again Luke pulled back. 
"Calm down," he shushed when you whined pitifully. "You'll be all filled up in a second, sweetheart."
He lightly bit your ass cheek before focusing back on the toy. It was thicker than any of them, heavy and made of silicone. Your legs spread wider on instinct as he dragged it up your thigh. You ached with anticipation, still unsure of what he had planned until he looped one of the straps around your ankle. 
Looping the other, Luke slid the brace up your thighs, angling the dildo to your entrance. He pumped you with it, easing it inside until it filled you. Your walls clenched around it, a filthy squelching sound echoing around the room as it bottomed out. 
Making sure it was firmly inside, Luke tightened the straps, keeping the dildo in place. It was so thick, holding you wide open to do nothing but clench around it. He went to the table next and grabbed some lube, then squirted it around his fingers. 
"We'll go nice and easy," he said as he got to his feet. 
His fingers rimmed your exposed asshole, slippery and hot. You did your best to remember to relax, but even his fingers were thick, probing gently into the ring of muscle until you let go. His fingertip breached you, and you moaned with your jaw dropped as he pumped you slowly. 
"That's right," he cooed. He pushed in to the knuckle, curling just enough to make you clench around him and the toy. "Take it like the whore you are, sweetheart. We're gonna fill you up nice and pretty."
Luke spread your hole with his finger until he was satisfied, adding another. He turned to the chairs, spotting Spencer. "Get over here, Reid."
Spencer got quickly to his feet, nearly tripping over himself to meet Luke's command. Luke put him between you both after he stretched you open, and you squirmed in excitement at what was coming next. 
Luke pulled down Spencer’s pants until he could kick them off, leaving him in nothing but his shirt and socks. Luke undid the buttons and tossed it aside, then grabbed the lube bottle again. 
He pressed himself against Spencer, who in turn pressed his own cock against your wet and open hole. All you wanted was to be fucked, but when you spotted Luke depositing some lube into Spencer's hand all you could do was watch. 
"Spread it over your cock," he whispered in Spencer's ear. "This is what you wanted, right? To be in the middle?"
Your pussy clenched so hard around the dildo that if it wasn't strapped in you were sure it would have rocketed across the room. Spencer nodded shyly, but Luke just smacked his ass. 
"Right?" he asked again, sharper this time. "You said, 'I want to try being with a man and a woman at the same time.' I'm giving you what you want, okay? I'm gonna take care of you."
"Right," Spencer gulped, nodding emphatically. He did as Luke told him, coating his dick with the lube as Luke spread more over his own fingers. 
"Fuck her in the ass, Spence," Luke murmured, pressing a kiss behind his neck. "It's what she wants, man. Look at her. Dripping with cum and filled to the brim, and all she wants is more."
You wiggled your ass just to prove his point, pushing down on the green button as well. Spencer nodded again, pressing the blunt head of his cock against your exposed hole. Luke held onto his hips as he pushed inside, making sure he didn't jerk forward too quickly and hurt you. 
You and Spencer both moaned loudly as he pumped himself inside. It burned, hot and painful and so wonderful. With your cunt filled with thick silicone and Spencer’s beautiful cock pushing inside, you almost came again. You were so full, so blissed and fucked out as he used you like a toy. 
"So fucking tight," Spencer groaned as he bottomed out. He grinded deep, your back arching to take more of him. "I wanna live here. This body… goddamn."
"That's right, man," Luke murmured. He pushed Spencer against the wall, pushing hard against you. You moaned and tried to wiggle, but you were trapped there. "She's gonna be your little slut to use, and you're going to be mine."
Your brows raised at that, and you watched the mirror with a fierce intensity as Luke put a hand between Spencer's shoulders. His hand disappeared between them, but Spencer moaned wantonly and grinded deeper in you. You whined pitifully with the lack of friction where you needed it most, but you knew what Luke was going to do before he did it. 
You watched him wipe off his hand, then look down at his crotch. Spencer's dick twitched and bobbed inside you as he grunted, his jaw tightening, but Hotch spoke up from where he palmed himself in his chair. 
"Relax, Reid," he said softly, encouragingly. "Do what this whore does. Just take it."
Spencer relaxed a bit, but not enough, so you grinded back onto him. You rolled your hips the best you could in this position, rocking back on his cock. He mimicked you, doing the same and rolling in between your asshole and Luke's member. His jaw dropped and his eyes fluttered shut, and you had him right where you wanted. 
With Spencer's hands on your hips, Luke braced himself with one on Spencer's own and the other on the wall. He started slow, quickly picking up his pace, and Spencer followed. His cock bounced inside you, ramming you into the wall, but you let out every moan and whine you could, crying out with each thrust. 
"Fuck, this is a good little hole, Hotch," Luke grunted, his face screwed up on concentration. "We don't even need the girl. We can just use Spencer!"
"Oh, we can find a good use for them both," Hotch replied, getting to his feet. He picked a vibrator off the table, angling it between your dripping pussy and turned it on. 
The vibrations hit you like an earthquake. You were so full and being touched by them both, and watching Spencer come apart from Luke fucking him like a beast was almost too much too soon. 
"Oh god, oh god," Spencer panted, his cheeks bright red. Your pussy clenched around the dildo, your other hole tightening around his cock at the sound. The vibrator was driving you mad, and when Hotch slapped your ass with his free hand you cried out. 
"Thank you!" you screamed, drool dripping down your chin. You were so hot, and the room filled with hazy lust and grunting. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" 
"Go on, Spencer. You hear that?" Hotch growled lowly. "Give it to her. Fuck that hole. It's just a fleshlight."
Spencer nodded, his head bobbing up and down, "It's a good hole. A good fucking toy… oh fuck, I wanna destroy this little hole for anyone else!" 
Luke bit his bottom lip as he rammed Spencer from behind, thrusting him deeper inside you. Spencer exploded without warning, hot sticky cum flooding your ass as Hotch slapped your cheek again even harder. The vibrations rocketed through you, your whole body arching and spasming with Spencer as he rode his high. 
You vaguely heard Luke cum, felt the way Spencer’s hips jerked forward as your ears rang with bliss. Spencer cried out and moaned with each new thrust, clinging to your hips with everything he had. 
After that, they all used you. For hours, it seemed, they fucked both holes over and over, taking turns. They ate you out, stuffed you with toys and their cocks, used vibrators on you. All until you were a weak drooling mess lying limply on the table. 
They took a break, catching their breaths and taking sips of some gatorade to recharge. Your body twitched as you lay useless, soft moans and whines escaping you. You couldn't really do anything else but lay there, so full of cum and drenched with it where they sometimes pulled out and came on your back and ass. 
"I think I have one more in me," Luke decided, and Hotch nodded in agreement. Spencer lay slumped against Hotch, who rubbed his fingertips lightly up his arms as he caught his breath. "Wanna have some fun with it?"
He pointed at you, and your body clenched in excitement. One more was about all you had as well. After cumming so many times at once you knew it would take you some time to lay there and recover, but you wanted one last memory to keep with you. 
Luke got shakily to his feet, running a light hand over your cum-covered thigh. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, "What do you say you come on out of there, sweetheart? Take us all at once before we head home for the night?"
Your heart pounded at the thought, but you hesitated. What if they saw you and decided they didn't want you?
"We'll take good care of you. I promise," Luke offered. "We'll clean you up before we go and everything. Give you the aftercare you deserve after all you did for us."
"Oh, I wanna do that," Spencer agreed, getting up from the couch. Hotch followed him, and Spencer came up to lean against the wall, rubbing one knuckle across your backside. "Let us take care of you, huh? I don't know if you heard, but this is my birthday present."
You bit your lip and grinned. Even if they decided they didn't want you, you knew you'd given Spencer a good birthday celebration. You decided to go with it, as the thought of having all three holes used by all three eligible men in your group was too enticing to pass up. 
You hit the green button, and they shared an excited smile between them. Taking a shaky breath, you unlatched the door and let it swing open. 
Hotch and Luke grabbed your arms gently as you tried and failed to push yourself up to sit. Spencer ran a soothing hand up your back as they turned you around, but the shock that hit their faces when they saw your teary smile was almost too much to handle. 
"Y/N?" Spencer gasped as he recognized you. "What…what are you doing here?"
"Same thing you are, boys," you replied sultrily, but your voice shook a bit with your exhaustion. "Paying for the privilege."
Luke's dumbfounded look turned into a smirk, and he confidently made his way between your legs, putting his hands on your thighs. His eyes glinted mischievously as he said, "I always knew there was a dirty girl hiding under that blazer."
"Oh my god, do you know what we just did to you?" Spencer marveled, his eyes wide. "Oh, Y/N, I'm so-."
"Don't you dare say sorry, Spencer Reid," you snapped, pointing at him. "I came here to get fucked by any one who walked in the door and it just so happened to be you guys. I don't regret that for a second."
"You don't?" Spencer asked hopefully, and you reached out and cupped his jaw in your hands, doing your best to ignore Luke's creeping fingers up your wet thighs. 
"You don't even know how many times I've thought about you, baby. I can't even count how many times I've cum on my own fingers thinking about you guys."
Spencer smiled happily, seemingly satisfied with your answer. Hotch knocked his knuckle on the board of your green light list, "Everything on here, that's what you're comfortable with?"
It was the first time he'd spoken, his dark eyes watching you intently as you turned back to him. All four of you were naked as the day you were born, and he looked good with that fuzzy chest and his hard cock bobbing in front of you. 
You nodded, reaching out to palm him. His dick was slippery from your juices and lube, letting you glide easily over him. Hotch was never one to give anything away, but he smiled down at you, pressing one knuckle under your jaw. 
He kissed you then, hard enough to bruise. Always so calm and collected, he really let himself out in bed. He pulled back, but not before nipping your bottom lip and making you moan. 
His hand flashed out in a second, dragging you by your throat onto the ground. You let out a surprised yelp but your sloppy cunt squelched loudly as you clenched. He shoved you onto your knees, looking down at you so imposing and strong. 
He held his dick by the base, "Open your mouth, then, whore."
You did as you were told, sticking out your tongue. You put your hands on your knees and arched your back, and he quickly gripped you by the hair and shoved his cock down your throat. 
He was relentless, ramming himself deep as Luke and Spencer joined him on either side. They took turns with you, quickly pulling you off one by the hair and shoving you down on another as tears dripped down your cheeks. They called you all sorts of names- whore, bitch, cocksleeve, fucktoy.
Hotch pulled you off one last time, leaving you gasping for air and your throat bruised. As you collapsed on the ground, he pushed Spencer into a chair, then leaned down and gripped you under your armpits to lift you up like you were nothing but a doll. 
Spencer sat splayed in the seat, his cock glistening with your spit. His chest was patched red as he panted, watching Hotch pick you up. He maneuvered you to sit on your knees, spread wide over Spencer's lap. 
He leaned down and brushed your hair back to whisper in your ear, "It's his birthday present, you dirty little toy. Ride him like the good whore we all know you are."
You couldn't help but giggle excitedly, nodding. Spencer watched you nervously, his hands set gently on your hips. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his to quell some of his anxiety, moaning happily when he relaxed a bit. 
"You gonna cum inside me, Spence?" you asked sweetly as you angled him to your entrance. "Be the last one to fill up this little pussy?"
He nodded emphatically, "Please, it's all I want."
You both groaned as you sank down on him. He filled you up beautifully, so thick and hot. His cock pulsed inside you, already ready to burst. You set your hands on his shoulders and lifted your hips before dropping back down. He was perfect, so sweet as he caressed you. 
Spencer's hands wandered to your tits as you rode him hard, body bouncing and jiggling with each drop. His blunt head bounced off your cervix, stretching you deeper and wider. You felt Hotch come up behind you, his hands gripping your waist and squeezing appreciatively as Luke approached from the side. 
He jerked himself off as he watched you, eyes glassy. Hotch smacked your ass a few times, making your hips jerk and twitch as you moaned. 
"Oh fuck," you gasped, body coiling for what felt like the thousandth time that night. "Fuck, Spence, you feel so good…"
"Yeah?" he asked coyly, cupping your jaw with one hand. The other pinched your nipples, swiping a soothing thumb across before switching back to the other. "This is how you like it? Being groped and touched and fucked by a bunch of strange guys?"
"I love it!" your voice hitched, eyes rolling back. You felt Hotch line himself up to your gaping hole, his knee braced on the chair. 
Your head rocked back as he breached you, so stuffed full and plugged. Cum streaked across your skin from them using you all night, and you let out a high pitched moan as he fucked you from behind. 
Their cocks moved in time, one sliding out as the other slid back in. It was all so much, so gratifying and dirty. All your moans and grunts echoed around the room as they fucked you, and Spencer quickly gripped you by the hair and pulled you down for a kiss. 
Hotch slapped your ass again, and you knew tomorrow you'd have bruises staining your skin. Spencer's tongue plunged down your throat, drinking in the taste of their cocks on your spit. He moaned into you, and all you could do was kneel there with your back arched as they used you like a doll.
"That's right, take it all," Luke marveled, and you had to pull away from Spencer. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, leaning over for him. Luke shoved his cock into your open hole, grinding deep in your throat before fucking you in time with the other men. 
Spencer moved your head by your hair, pushing you down on Luke's thick length over and over as their cocks pumped in and out of you. You were completely stuffed, body locked in this position. Fluids dripped down your thighs, drool leaking out of the sides of your lips and down your chin. 
Your brain was completely fuzzy, desperate moans reverberating around Luke's cock. He pulled out quickly, his hand slapping your cheek and making you cry out. Spencer let go of your hair to pinch and slap your tits over and over, red welts breaking out across your skin. 
Hotch joined in, "You like that, you dirty cumdump?" 
"Yeah she does," Luke agreed. He slapped you again, hard enough to rock your head to the side. Then he tangled his fingers in your hair and shoved his length down your throat again before you could answer. "Look at her, covered in cum… this is how she should be. We should tie her up in the jet and just use her every case. She doesn't even need to work. She's useless except for this."
You moaned and nodded, tears streaming down your face as he fucked your mouth roughly. You relaxed your throat and opened your jaw as wide as you could, letting him facefuck you as Hotch and Spencer rammed your other holes. 
"What a good toy you are," Spencer grunted. His hips pistoned up into you, slamming into your cervix so hard you saw stars. Your body clenched up, starting to shake, and Spencer laughed and pinched your tits harder. "Look at her, she's gonna cum."
You nodded weakly as they used you, and when Hotch suddenly grabbed your arms and twisted them behind your back your whole body jerked in primal response. The stretch in your shoulders burned, and he held you up by your wrists as Luke held you up by your hair. 
They had you trapped, and if you wanted to move you couldn't. Their tight hold on you cut off circulation, your slippery cunt leaking at the sensations of it all. Luke pulled out and slapped your cheek again, but all you could do was groan happily. 
"Oh thank you!" you cried out as they rammed every hole you had. Luke jerked himself off in front of your face, his cock twitching as he was about to burst. "Thank you for fucking me like this! Fuck, fuck, just wanna be a hole for you to use… just wanna be filled with cum!"
Luke groaned, cum spurting from his head. You stuck out your tongue as it landed on your cheeks and chin, trying to get as much of it as you could in your mouth. Hotch and Spencer fucked you relentlessly even as Luke waned, but he pulled you close and shoved his dick back in your mouth. 
"Clean it off, slut," he panted, hips twitching at the overstimulation. You laved your tongue over it, licking up every bit of yourself and his cum you could. 
Spencer pinched your tits so hard you began to cry, but you didn't stop and neither did they. Hotch's nails dug into your wrists as he thrust one last time deep inside. His hot cum spurted into your asshole, shoving so far in  you were sure your whole body was rearranged. 
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," he gasped, his body shuddering with the effort. "You good little fuck…"
Spencer tugged you off of Luke, not caring at all that your face was covered with another man's cum. He licked your cheeks and chin, tasting it and moaning as Hotch pulled out. You felt his spend leak from your gaping hole, but Spencer was relentless. He never stopped, instead plunging his tongue down your throat again.
Hotch and Luke caught their breaths as you made out with Spencer. Your hands were released, and you rode him like a madman as he fucked up into you. Your body clenched, beginning to tremble and strain from the effort as Spencer pulled back and put his forehead against yours. 
"You gonna cum?" he asked darkly, his sweet eyes meeting your teary ones. "You gonna cum just for me?"
You nodded pathetically, so needy and exhausted. "Wanna cum, Spencer, please!"
"Yeah?" He mocked your teary expression, and his hand came down sharply on your bruised asscheek. You yelped, sobbing as you nodded again. "You're so stuffed and fucked out… this hole is all stretched. Maybe I should go find a few other guys to help me fill it up."
You shook your head as you cried, "No, please. Just you, just need you Spence! Want you to be the last one to fill me up… just want you to make me cum… please!"
Spencer grinned, tugging you back for a sloppy kiss. It was all teeth and tongue. Your fingernails drug down his back as he caressed your body. He held you so tight and close, ramming his cock deep. 
Your eyes rolled back, body trembling violently as you came harder than ever. Your vision blacked out as pure ecstasy rocketed through you. You squirted over his lap, the filthy sounds of slapping skin and squelching taking over the room. 
Spencer called out your name as he came, moaning against your lips and holding you so close you were sure you became one. You went limp in his arms as he finished, spent and used and covered in cum and bruises. 
Spencer collapsed against the back of the chair, panting and trying to catch his breath. "Jesus Christ, Y/N… holy shit."
You couldn't speak or move. Your mind didn't have the capacity to do anything anymore. After a while, you felt someone lift you. You were laid down on the couch with your head in Spencer's lap. Hotch sat down by your legs, rubbing your feet as Luke knelt on the floor with one of the cleaning rags they left in every room. 
Luke cleaned you while they caressed you. Spencer brushed back your hair, lightly running his knuckles over your face as you struggled to come back to earth. Hotch massaged your feet and legs, warming them back up after they locked into soreness. 
"Mmm," you groaned, smacking your lips as you finally came to. They all sat around you, gently touching and giving you praise. 
"Such a good girl," Luke murmured. He was rubbing cooling gel over your bruised breasts, massaging it in gently. "You were perfect, sweetheart."
"Best ass this side of the Mississippi," Hotch agreed, making you smile. 
You glanced up at Spencer, who was watching you with those sweet eyes of his. He pushed back your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. "You're amazing, you know that?"
You couldn't do anything but grin. Hotch lightly tapped your thigh, "You're alive, right?"
"Mhmmm," you groaned, but that was all you could say. 
They waited until you could move again before dressing you and then themselves. Spencer picked you up and settled you on his hip, your head dropping onto his shoulder as you started to fall asleep. 
You vaguely registered him saying he would take you home. He carried you through the club and put you in his car, both Hotch and Luke giving you a kiss goodnight. 
He talked to you the whole way home, but you were pretty out of it, slumped down in the seat and fucked into blissful semiconsciousness. Your whole body was sore, but it was amazing. You'd never felt this content and satisfied. 
He got your keys out of your purse and brought you up to your apartment, rubbing a soft hand up and down your back as he spoke praises and sweet words to you. Your heart opened up each time he did, so safe and warm in his arms. 
Spencer set you down gently on your bed. He eased your clothes off and set your shoes neatly on the floor. He even folded them for you, setting them on a chair in the corner. He tucked you in, sitting on the covers next to you. 
Spencer sighed and brushed back some of your hair as you lay cozy under the covers. He gave you a soft smile, "I'll check on you in the morning, okay? Then we'll go get your car."
"Mm okay," you murmured back, hardly able to keep your eyes opened. 
Sure you had all those dirty thoughts about the people on your team, but the sweet ones you reserved for Spencer. He was so kind and warm to be around, while the filthy sex you'd just had with him was a fantasy of yours, having him tuck you into bed as a dream come true. 
Spencer leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes and tried to commit it to memory, to burn it into your mind forever. When he pulled away, your arm broke free of the blanket cocoon and gripped his wrist. 
"Do you… do you maybe wanna stay?" you asked quietly, hopefully. 
Spencer watched you with wide eyes, but it quickly turned into one of those beautiful smiles of his. 
"Of course I do."
You grinned like a maniac as he toed off his shoes, then took off his clothes. Red lines littered his back from where you scratched him, marking him as yours. 
Spencer slid under the covers with you, wrapping his arms around and pulling you to his chest. You pressed your nose into his neck, and he rubbed his thumb against your spine as you lay there, safe and happy. 
"Y/N?" Spencer asked softly into the darkness. 
"Yeah?"
Spencer took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for rejection. He gave you a quick squeeze and in a small voice asked, "Do you want to go to dinner with me tomorrow?"
You pulled back a bit to look at him, and he was watching you with wide and worried eyes. You put your hand on his cheek and smiled, "Like a date?"
Spencer swallowed thickly, "Yeah, like a date."
You bit your lip and looked away, nerves taking over. "Even after seeing me like that? With… other men? You still want me?"
Spencer laughed breathily, like you were an idiot. He cupped your face with his hands and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You melted into him, letting out a small moan. 
"All I ever wanted was you," he murmured as he pulled away. He held you so delicately. "Before I knew it was you in that wall… I was imagining it was."
You giggled sweetly at his words, kissing him again. You pressed your body against his, and even though you'd been through a lot tonight your pussy was slick as it slid against his hip, your thigh slung over his middle. 
"Oh, no," Spencer scolded you playfully. He shook his head and gave you a serious look. "You may have an unlimited libido, but I couldn't get it up again if you paid me. Plus, you should rest for tomorrow."
You smirked, "You're gonna fuck me tomorrow?"
Spencer grinned back at you, one hand sliding over your bruised ass. He squeezed you tightly, making you hiss in pain and pleasure. 
"Baby, after tomorrow, you won't want to fuck anyone else ever again."
"I already don't. Happy Birthday, Spencer."
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Smurph's Masterlist
Notes: Whoo... I got myself ALL worked up writing this <3
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@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks  @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo @sebastiansstanswhore 
@louderfortheback @pandabiiissh @calebye
@dottirose @lfaewrites @padsfirewhisky @wheels-upin-thirty @f-me-reid @justanothercmblog @academiareid
189 notes · View notes
fictionfunshop · 10 months
Note
I AM NOT OKAY
I could request the double life of the reader, one as an agent and the other as a camgirl. Hotchner is a follower but they won't realize it until they travel on a case to an area where it's hot and they see a familiar brand.
By the way, I love your writing. 💖😊
anon i love you. take my hand in marriage RIGHT NOW.
It's You | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner
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introducing--
The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Part One
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl f!Reader
Words: 3k
CW: mutual masturbation, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play.
Tags/warnings: master!hotch, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl), perv!hotch, mutual masturbation, hotch being a little mean.
a/n: yes, oh god yes will this become something I can already taste it. catch me writing another insanely long D/s series about these two because I AM IN LOVE.
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
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The first time that he noticed a similarity he thought he’d officially lost his mind. 
Maybe the sleep deprivation, insurmountable amounts of stress he was under, and the fact that he had yet to have his morning coffee were all working in tandem against him. 
It had been a complete accident. You’d been walking towards your desk in the morning, in a foul mood and you didn’t care who saw it. You’d set your bag down on the wooden counter but accidentally miscalculated how close you were to it and slammed your foot into the metal leg that separated them.
A yelp escaped your lips, high pitched, painful, sexual. His ears had perked up immediately, his brows scrunching together as he tried to remember where he’d heard that sound before. Realization struck him like a truck running him against a brick wall. 
No, there was no way, his brain was being absurd, he was being absurd.   
The day wrapped him up in a tornado of meetings and he’d almost forgotten about the incident earlier in the day, but then he received a notification late at night, after he’d returned home from a long day at the office. She was online, his favorite, perfect girl. 
Aaron had never been one for porn, never really saw the appeal of overly produced, almost veering on fake sexual content. He’d met his wife in high school, he was never in need of searching for something that he already had. 
But after Haley passed away and he became increasingly frustrated with the idea of having to put himself out there and date someone else to get the intimacy that he desired, he’d bitten the bullet and signed up for one of the many sites that Morgan had not so subtly been recommending for the past few months. 
To think that his colleague could tell he was so sexually frustrated to the point that he’d began dropping hints about it had made him more embarrassed than signing up for the site. 
The first few times that he used the site were…interesting. Getting past that wall of righteousness he’d put up around himself was difficult. He wanted, no, needed release, craved it in a way he’d never felt before. 
He’d go from stream to stream, curious, trying to keep an open mind. But nothing really spoke to him, nothing really made him excited to engage, to stay longer than a few minutes, to touch himself. 
And then he’d found her, bouncingbunny1, or Bunny as she went by for the customers that paid enough to be in her inner circle. 
She was beautiful in that girl next door who was secretly naughty way that he hadn’t realized he was so attracted to. Always clad in delicate pink lingerie, never showing her face, even when he’d finally gotten over his fear and paid for a private session.
It was easy to fantasize, easy to let himself go and allow the soft cadence of her voice, the filthy sounds of her moans as she touched herself for his pleasure and his pleasure only, making him come undone in minutes. 
He’d learned something dangerous about himself then, a desperate need to dominate, to control, to have power over someone in such an intimate way. Watching this delicate woman come undone by his orders, his commands, his instructions on how he wanted her to pleasure herself was more satisfying than anything he’d experienced before.
Now, months later, he could confidently accept that this had been one of the best decisions he’d ever made. Sure, he spent as much money on her as he did on rent every month, but it was honestly worth it. He had an insurmountable amount of access, she’d told him as much on their nightly conversations. 
It wasn’t just about release anymore. He found himself talking to her, texting and calling, whenever she was online and he needed her. There had been a few instances where they’d closed a particularly tough case and all he needed was to hear her voice, but she was unavailable. 
But she made up for it with messages filled with those silly kissing face emojis, telling him that she’d make it up to him later that night. And he never questioned it, never even found it odd that sometimes those moments happened to coincide with them being stuck on the jet or pulling a late night of paperwork at the office. 
He had no reason to think anything of it, no reason to ever even begin to think of the possibility that it was you…that it could ever be you on the other side of his screen. You, his subordinate, his teammate, his friend who he adored and cherished and thanked the universe every day for your patience, kindness, love.
Even with the slightest possibility, the smallest sliver that 
user1102: Bunny.
bouncingbunny1: hiiiiii Master 🤭🥰🩷💖😚
user1102: Can we play?
Bouncingbunny1: yes sir
He smirked to himself, immediately calling. He never showed his face or his body. The only indication that he was real was through what he allowed you to hear. That was another thing that he’d noticed about himself, how deep and sharp his voice could get when he allowed himself to be free. 
You answered the call immediately. You knew he didn’t like to be kept waiting and you couldn’t contain your excitement every time he called you. He was the only reason you were still doing this, even after finishing college (debt free), after getting through the academy and getting the job you’d been desperately working towards all your adult life – he had come in and kept you wrapped up in his orbit. 
You’d started working at the BAU almost a year ago. They were down an agent and you’d been brought in to train for the position. The transition had been stressful, something that you were accounting for but not to this degree. 
You had taken a break from camming in preparation for the adjustment period, taking your time to see if you would even want to return to it or if it was a closed chapter in your book. 
But you’d returned home one night after a particularly grueling case, with so much pent up energy, so much bratty energy that the only way that you knew how to get it out in a healthy way was to put on a show. 
You’d spent the next few hours with your bluetooth vibrator inside you, a pretty baby blue lingerie set over it, cumming over and over and over and over again as the people watching paid to make the device go faster and faster and faster.
That’s when you first met him, user1102. After the first hour was up and you were practically hanging on to your couch for dear life, he’d told you he’d pay five hundred dollars if you took a break, if you drank a full glass of water for him on camera to show him you were taking care of yourself. 
And so you did, everyone else in the chat respecting the decision, albeit annoying as it was, since they all understood that money spoke volumes and they were not in the market to try and outbid whoever he was.
You didn’t recognize him from your usual clients which meant that this was the first time he was seeing you, and what a night to start indeed. He kept coming back after that, every time that you were able to find the time or needed to find release, to clear your mind of the day’s events. 
He was always a big tipper, an even bigger flirt, always made sure to send public and private messages while you played live, always said hello and goodbye. 
You’d squealed loudly when he finally requested a private session and made sure you looked extra good for him. He was perfect, even if you had no idea what he looked like, and these sessions became more and more frequent to the point that you’d almost stopped performing for other people.  
You were sitting in front of your couch on the cold wood floor, a fluffy towel under you. He could see a few toys off camera and a large water bottle that he’d gotten you next to them, clearly just in frame for him.
“Hi bunny,” he groaned, his hand already wrapped around his cock. 
“Hi Master,” you whimpered, already feeling spacey and out of it. It was always like this with him, easy to slip, to submit, to simply allow your brain to think about following his instructions. 
“Someone’s eager,” he mocked and you immediately knew what he was talking about. It was crazy to think that you were so attuned to him, to where his mind was. It filled you with warmth every time that you could anticipate his thoughts, his needs, his desires. 
“Prepared,” you whined, offended. “I always make a mess when we play and I’m tired of having to mop my floor.”
He chuckled, hand tightening around himself. He never had to work to get hard when he spoke with you, the mere thought of getting to play, as you liked to call it, enough to get him going. 
That’s when he noticed it, a small band aid on the side of your foot. 
“What happened to your foot, sweet girl?” he asked, his heart beating uncomfortably fast, blood practically shooting up to his ears and his cock. 
“Oh…” you started, a little afraid that he’d punish you for not being careful. “I bumped it against a chair today.”
He came harder than he’d ever had that night just by the mere thought that you were the one letting out those addicting noises, that you were the one coming undone because of him, that you were the one writhing, shaking, panting, so completely at his mercy that you’d quite literally do anything for him. 
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You were in god awful, swampy Florida. The summer sun was unforgiving, the cozy, long sleeve you had chosen for what you believed would be a long day at the office doing paperwork was definitely the worst clothing choice as the humidity practically clung to your body. 
You wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, wanted to take it off and not worry about flaunting your practically naked breasts to everyone around you. Anything to get rid of the burning heat that trapped your body. 
You were practically a walking puddle when you made it back to the station, practically bolting to the bathroom in a cloud of smoke. Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle, he’d been teasing you about it all afternoon, especially after he’d urged you to change and you had refused because you were sure you’d be staying inside with Reid in the comfort of the air conditioned building.
Aaron couldn’t help but notice your mood. You weren’t normally this grumpy. You were usually the one making sure he stopped frowning. He gave you a moment and then followed behind swiftly. 
You stepped into the women’s bathroom and immediately pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aggressively over the sink. You stood there, heaving, allowing the cold air to seep into your body, to have it calm you down, ground you. 
Aaron was about to knock when he saw the door slightly ajar and he immediately stilled, his eyes landing on your topless body. It was too similar, you were too similar, his brain now desperately trying to find similarities between you and her. 
You were wearing a cupless white lace bra, one that he could’ve sworn he’d bought you only a few days prior. You hadn’t worn it yet, at least not to his knowledge, which meant you must’ve just gotten it in the mail. 
It was overwhelming to say the least. He couldn’t continue going on like this. He needed to know. 
He pulled out his phone, discreetly lingering outside of the women’s bathroom, always glancing around to make sure no one could see him. 
user1102: Bunny, I need you.
The second his thumb pressed send his gaze shot up to you once more, waiting to see your reaction. As much as his Bunny would sometimes tell him that she couldn’t play right that second, she’d always, without fail, answer his messages within seconds. 
He could see your attention shift from the mirror in front of you to your phone for a second as you slid your new shirt over yourself. His gaze sharpened, his cock twitched in anticipation, his breathing hitched. 
But instead you pressed one key and brought the device up to your ear, your soft, steady voice muffled by the distance between you. He sighed deeply, in defeat as he looked back down at his phone, his message unanswered. 
“Are you okay?” he almost jerked back as he heard you address him, concern lacing your voice. You were right beside him then, those round, doe eyes of yours that he loved so much wide and worried. 
He could simply nod, enough to satisfy you and yet not give you even an ounce of understanding into what was really going on. 
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You all made it to the hotel later that night. He had quickly checked you all in since you were all about to drop. It had been a very long day to say the least and all you really wanted was to take an ice cold shower and go to sleep. 
“Alright,” he addressed the group. “Rossi, room 702, Reid and Morgan, room 705, JJ, room 806, Emily and–” his eyes met yours and he immediately lost his train of thought for a second before he handed the key cards to the raven haired woman beside you. “Room 807.”
He stepped back. “I’ll be down in room 604 if anyone needs anything. Back at the lobby at seven.”
With that you all shuffled towards the elevators, like a horde of zombies. You had been true to your word, practically cold plunging yourself in the shower and proceeding to put on some shorts and a baggy t-shirt to sleep in. 
Emily took the shower after you were done, your plan being to throw yourself on the bed and pass out immediately. But as luck would have it, your stomach practically screamed at you to feed it. 
You sighed deeply, crossing the room to see if room service was still open at the late hour only to realize it had just closed. You groaned in annoyance, the brat peeking through, your body starting to crave a different type of relief. 
Luckily there was a vending machine down on the sixth floor, so that’s where you found yourself, irritatingly making the trek down. The elevator doors opened directly into the hall with the vending machine and you practically came face to face with an equally tired Aaron, clad in his own gray shirt and loose pajama pants. 
You bit down on your lip, approaching him slowly. He saw you the second the elevator doors opened and it made him angry that he just knew it was you. There was something so specific about the air whenever you were around, it always felt lighter, smelled sweeter. 
“Hungry?” he asked as you approached and you nodded. 
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you replied and he leaned down to pick up the prepackaged sandwich he’d just gotten for himself. 
Your hand wrapped itself around the almost phallic, plastic wrapped item, his gaze slowly falling down your body until it landed on your chest. To say he visibly tensed up was an understatement. 
You frowned immediately, stepping forward, into his personal space, your own eyes searching for his but they were glued to your shirt. You looked down at yourself, concerned that maybe there was something on it that had offended him. It was rowdy, but nothing to write home about which only confused you further. 
“My college friends used to be in a band,” you explained, trying to lighten the mood. “They made like three of these shirts,” you laughed, clearly remembering fond memories. “Anyway, it’s silly and stupid, I know, but I still have it.”
He knew, he knew all of that, because he’d once called her– you while you were still in your pajamas, wearing that very specific shirt. You’d told him that same story, with a few more details of course, but still.
There was no denying it now, no way to twist the truth, no way to unknow what he now knew for certain.
His own hand pulled on the sandwich and your frown only deepened, as if the gesture itself had cut you so deep, had broken your heart so painfully. 
“It’s…uh– option three, sorry, I have to…” he was down the hall in record time, his heart pounding, his cock practically rock hard against his abdomen. He needed to calm down, needed to take a minute to compose himself, needed to get back to grab his phone so that he could—
user1102: Come to my room. 
The message confused you even more than Aaron just had. You were in no mood to deal with anyone, even the man you had made you feel more alive than you had in years. That’s when you noticed you hadn’t replied to him earlier, but whatever guilt you were feeling quickly washed away as anger settled in.
Who the fuck did they both think they were?
bouncingbunny1: ???
user1102: 604
The color drained from your face in an instant. No, it couldn’t be. There was no way, your brain was being absurd, you were being absurd. 
user1102: Now, bunny.
You gulped loudly, shaky legs somehow managing to lift carry down the hall. The bright light of the hallways almost sobering you up. Were you seriously about to do this?
At worst you walked over to his door, knocked and he stared at you confused and you’d just have to live with the embarrassment of coming up with a lie. At best…at best he opened the door and dragged you into his room, pressed his lips to yours, and finally gave you the satisfaction of fucking ruining you like you’d wanted your boss and user1102 to do for so long. 
You didn’t even get to lift your hand to knock on the door before it swung open aggressively and he stepped into your personal space, his tall, broad frame towering over you. 
“Oh, bunny,” he hummed. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to go looking for the big bad wolf?”
“No, Master.”
this was TOO SATISFYING TO WRITE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. it was crazy to go from soft boy mr. hotchner to just...insanity and power and control and i love how this turned out.
y'all better fucking FLOOD my inbox with asks for them.
tags: @xladyxdreamer, @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh
2K notes · View notes
fictionfunshop · 10 months
Text
GAHHHHH!! Love the update @smurphyse!!!
Everyone needs to read this
The Ocean Grew Hands to Hold Me | Spencer Reid
Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 4 of Routine Maintenance
Warnings: blood, PTSD memories, mentions of child abuse, hospitals, drug addiction,
Summary: You struggle to get Spencer help, and it sends you back into your memories. Later, when he wakes up, Spencer seeks you out for reasons he's unsure of
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I stopped making deals with God three days after Ernie died. Three days in the ocean, hungry and exhausted and so thirsty I thought I was drier than a husk, I made deals over his dead body. I swore if He would just make him wake up, make the blood flow again and the sharks stop nipping my feet under the waves that I would start believing again. It was the only thing that kept me alive. 
It was a deal I'd made so many times over the years. I'll be a better believer if You make my dad stop hurting us. I'll be a better daughter if You just make the pain go away. If you bring my sister home I'll do anything. 
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That rat bastard never did anything. I guess He knew it was bullshit, as I'd never kept up my end of that deal anyway. I still got into trouble, still couldn't help my sister, still couldn't be a daughter my father didn't want to backhand across a room. 
The nicotine stained walls of my father's house closed in on me a little more each day, so I ran to what I knew… the ocean. Unlike Thunderbird, it was cold almost all year round. It grew hands to hold me. I numbed my lungs in the salt air. I thought the current would take me out to sea, swallow me whole, and I'd be free of this agony. 
It all came to a head, and my sister Madeline passed. I couldn't help her, and looking back I shouldn't have placed the blame on myself for what happened. I did what I could, and at sixteen it wasn't admittedly much when she first started going down a road that terrified me. I made deals with God that if he just brought her home… I would bring her to church with me… we'd be saved together. 
She died in an old shack on the beach. Needle in her arm, glassy eyes staring up at me while her fellow drug users hardly acknowledged my screeching as I held her. They lit out before the police got there. My father refused to claim her body, citing her 'Godlessness,' as though it wasn't his fault she ended up there and dead at eighteen.  I looked to the ocean for help, but it was calm in the distance. 
I spent two years working and saving money. I told my father it was for college, but the day I turned eighteen I left a note telling him all the things I never had the courage to. I took Madeline's ashes with me. I made it as far as Nevada before I ran out of my meager savings. Minimum wage was even more minimum thirteen years ago. 
I met Mattie May while shivering in the rain at a truck stop, eyeing the men and women equally. My lack of trust was all-consuming, took a toll on my body and mind. I don't know how she convinced me to get in that car with her, but I have this image in my mind of a mutt being led on with the promise of a treat and a blanket. 
Oh, the magic happened after that. I've never felt closer to God than I did with Ernie. His smile was from Heaven, glittering and wide like the sea herself. His lust for adventure matched mine, his painful memory of the war understood mine. He was my soul mate. He saw all my broken pieces and fit into the cracks. Without forcing it, they were made to be together. 
But holding his body by that chain… mangling him even further, the only thing that kept me going was the thought that maybe…maybe I could wake him up. He was gone soon after we hit the water, but I couldn't let myself believe that. I spread both his and my sister’s ashes in the bay, praying once more for a miracle.
I think God wanted me to live so I would suffer. And suffer I have. Almost ten years of constant agony and numbness has become my life again, and I blame Him. 
But the ocean grew hands to hold me, I tell myself in this horrifying moment. It's ten years later, and I'm holding Spencer Reid. He's covered in blood, and I want to drown in it first so I can't watch him die too.
When I was in shambles. When I got too weak, the ocean grew hands to hold me. 
"Maeve?"
Spencer's hand was slick with blood as he held my face in his palm, trapping my hair between it and my neck. The hot sticky liquid smeared across my skin, cooling quickly in the open air. I look out the windows to the sea for help, but I haven't been with her for so long she watches back. I abandoned her long ago when Ernie died, too scared to go back in the water.
My fingers dug into his flannel as I held him back. The world shifted beneath me as I knelt on the concrete, blurring and too sharp all at the same time. I miss the ocean. I want to choke under the waves to escape. 
I want to be with Ernie. 
His face was cracked and bleeding from the bat Lloyd hit him with, nose gushing crimson and pooling over his cheeks onto the floor beneath him. It was too much, Ernie's face flashing before me like he was dying in front of me again. 
Memories swirled in my mind. I could still feel it. The wind whipped my hair, stray strands sticking to my cheeks and neck as wave after wave crashed down on us. A blast of light, the explosion that ripped my hand from his…
Ernie's gone, I told myself achingly, you're not lost in the waves any more. 
I tore myself from him, getting shakily to my knees, and went for the landline on the wall. My hands vibrated from the power of the shotgun, fingers numb and sharp as a livewire as I typed in a number I knew by heart.
"No, come back," Spencer coughed wetly. "Please don't go again."
"It's okay, Spencer," I told him. The phone rang slowly as I watched him lie there, out of his mind and drunk off his ass. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Altman Clinic," a familiar southern twang came through, making me sigh in relief. 
"Obediah, it's Honey-."
"Well, howdy, Honey. What's shakin'?"
"I'm at Tooky's." I had to rush before he jumped into more small talk. "Lonnie and Lloyd Evarts just beat the shit out of this guy-."
"Heard there was a fight tonight. Thought nobody was hurt though," Obie drawled. "You had a good scare, huh?"
"Goddammit, Obie!" I yelled into the receiver. I didn't have the time to gab. "They came back. He's hurt really bad. I need help."
Obie went right into doctor mode, "I'm on my way. I'll have Barbie call Micah."
I hung up without replying, twisting and falling back to my knees over Spencer. His eyes were glassy, gazing in wonder at the EXIT sign. I cupped his face in my hands, angling him to look at me. 
"You're gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay."
"Maeve?" he asked again, his voice pathetically hopeful and full of tears. 
"Who is she? Is that your wife?" I asked frantically. "I'll call her and she'll come."
Spencer shook his head, lip twisting down to a shaking frown under the crimson light. "She's not coming back."
My heart sank. I didn't know enough about him to provide any comfort. I only had my own grief and bruises and they weren't helpful to anyone. I looked out at the ocean again, and the waves calmly danced in the distance. 
"Can you stand?" I licked my lips. They were already wet, sticky and copper tasting. I tried to ignore it and the sharp pain in my wrist. 
"Just gonna sleep here tonight, okay?" he whispered. "Just don't tell JJ. She'll be so disappointed."
I didn't know what the hell he was talking about anymore. I just had to get him out of this locked box in case Lonnie and Lloyd decided to come back again. 
Rounding him, I decided to drag him through the kitchen and into the alley so Obie could put him in the van. I locked the kitchen door just to be safe, then looped my hands under his shoulders. As I began to lift his dead weight with my bruised fingers he let out a sharp yelp. 
"Stop, stop, stop!" Spencer called out, twisting away and out of my grip. He hit the floor hard, groaning and trying to curl up. His voice shook, "Fuck…"
"Okay, it's okay," I tried to soothe, but I was struggling not to panic. My heart beat through my ears, my veins pounding along in time. 
I had to get him out of here. It's all I could think about. Get him out, get him out…out of the water. We weren't in the water, though. At least there was that. We were on solid land, safe from the violent storms that ripped my life away from me. 
I went to his feet, gripping his boots at his ankles. My wrist screamed with a sharp tear up my forearm, the makeshift brace Mattie May had given me not doing much but holding it together. With a harsh tug, I pulled Spencer toward the alley door. 
I kicked open the heavy metal, letting it hit my back as I inched him out into the open air. Blood smeared across the concrete. Whether it was from Lonnie or Spencer I couldn't be sure, I just needed to get him out of here. 
Cherries and blueberries illuminated across the brick, reflecting along the dumpster and nearly blinding me. I managed to pull Spencer along the sand, the door swinging shut behind us. I waved toward the lights.
Obie seemed to have spotted me. He turned the van and backed it down the alley to us, stopping just in time. He hopped out and hustled through the sand, the spurs on his boots clinking. 
Obediah Altman was lanky and tall, his cowboy hat shining in the harsh light. His clinic was only a few blocks away, as was everything else in tiny Thunderbird. The turquoise of his bolo tie flickered against the red and blue lights on his makeshift ambulance, and a whistle rang out as he approached. 
"Good lord, Honey Bee," he drawled with his deep voice, "They fucked you up, huh?"
"Help me get him in the van," I snapped. "He weighs a ton."
"'S what happens when you drink yerself silly," he told me, bending down to grab Spencer's shoulder. "Turn yerself into dead weight!"
I didn't respond, gripping Spencer by his boots once more. We lifted him at the same time, but Spencer yelped sharply and twisted himself out of our grasps. I narrowly missed his foot hitting me square in the chest, but Obie kept a good hold on him. 
"Shoulder's dislocated," was all he said. He scooped Spencer up with more strength than I would have thought this stick of a man could muster, picking him up like a baby and setting him in the back of the van. 
I climbed through the double doors after him, putting his head in my lap. Unable to explain my sudden protectiveness over this man who just hours ago made me so angry I could've kicked him in the chest, I pushed back his hair and held back tears. He looked back up at me with those glassy eyes, and for too many times tonight I was plunged back into a world of memories I’d sooner forget.
In a daze, I existed in limbo as Barbie came running out with a stretcher and a kit. Ten years ago we did this same thing, but Ernie was already dead so it had just been an early funeral procession. I’d refused to get on the stretcher, and Mattie May held me up as we followed his inside. I haven’t stepped foot in here since.
I existed through a fog, following blindly as Ernie/Spencer was taken from me once more. Obie and Barbie ran around me in a flurry of machines and gauze. I think I just followed them around with a glazed look on my face, suffering through a haze of PTSD I thought I had gotten past when Barbie slid something in my hand. Her mouth moved, but it took a few times to pierce through the ringing in my ears.
“...contacts,” she said again. I cocked my head as I finally noticed her, and she set a heavy blood-coated hand on my shoulder. It seeped through my shirt and slid the fabric over my skin. “Find his emergency contacts, Honey.” I managed to nod. She turned back toward the mess that was now Spencer Reid. I wish the current would carry me home. I wish Ernie were here with me now to tell me I was going to be okay. I wish he were here to tell me the ocean wasn't God, and that she would grow hands to hold me once again. I wish my sister were here, that Rico was. I wish I wasn't as alone as I feel every goddamn day. 
I've been running for a decade now. Running first from my father and now from Ernie. I want him here but I also just want to forget him and this town that saved me. I don't belong here anymore, just like Spencer doesn't, and now like me he might die here. 
His phone screen lights up in my palm. I don't remember clicking the button. I don't even remember putting his bloody thumbprint on the screen to open it, or calling the first number in his ICE list or picking up the landline behind the desk until a voice answered on the other end. 
"This is Prentiss," a lovely voice said, commanding and yet somehow still open. 
I couldn't answer. The acrid scent of blood and sterilized equipment surrounded me. The bright lights streaked across my vision, and I was sure the linoleum would swallow me whole until she spoke again. 
"Hello?" she asked, her voice rising an octave. "Spencer?"
I seemed to kick into gear, but my own voice betrayed my panic. "I'm here. Sorry, I-."
"What happened to Spencer?" She cut me off as I stared at his immobile body. He was limp as Obie and Barbie worked on him. "Tell me."
"I'm, uhm. I'm at the Altman Clinic in Thunderbird-."
"I know where he is. What. The. Hell. Happened?" 
"A… a, uhm, bar fight," I managed to stammer. "He stopped some guy who hit me and… they came back."
"He's gonna be fine. Dislocated shoulder, broken nose, coupla bruised ribs," Obie drawled to Barbie, who nodded and glanced over at me. "Probably has a concussion, but he's okay."
I reiterated the words with a monotone back to Emily, whose name I suddenly remembered from Spencer's contact list. "Doc says he's gonna be fine. I'm so sorry."
She was quiet for a moment, and I heard a door click shut somewhere near her. She took a deep breath and asked, "Is this Honey?"
It took me back, my brows furrowing in confusion. "Uhm, yes. I own the Thunderbird Inn where he's staying."
“I need to talk to the doctor.”
I called over Obie, who introduced himself to Emily. He nodded and jotted a few things down on a notepad, his eyebrows raising, “How many bullet wounds?”
My own shot up as I looked over at Spencer. He didn’t seem the type to get shot up, but then it hit me. Maybe he and Maeve were just victims of something as simple as a driveby. Maybe that was how he lost her.
“...concussions from an explosion… scars on his forearm and leg from a what?” Obie asked, wide eyed. Who the hell was this guy? He nodded, “What was the drug?”
He nodded again, then handed the phone back to me. I could hear the slight tremble in Emily’s voice as Obie showed his list to Barbie, but I couldn’t see it. They shared a knowing glance, but went back to work anyway.
"How old are you?" Emily asked after a moment.
I bit my bottom lip and glanced over at Spencer. What the hell? I adjusted the receiver against my cheek and answered, "Thirty one, ma'am."
Emily chuckled to herself, then sighed. "Have Spencer call me when he gets back to the hotel."
"But, you're his emergency contact," I stuttered, my face mangling up in confusion. "Aren't you going to come see him? Make sure he's okay?"
"Spencer doesn't want me there. If I show up it'll do more harm than good."
I didn't know what the hell that meant, and I didn't want to know more about Spencer than I needed to. I was already way out of my comfort zone with a customer. "What about Maeve?"
Emily made a shocked noise, and there was more shuffling wherever she was. I heard her swallow thickly and take a steadying breath. "She's not available."
"He asked for her," I pressed. I didn't want this man to be alone, not when he was hurt. I also wanted to get the hell out of this clinic. "He thought I was her for a moment. I'm sure if you explained what was going on, she would come see him."
"She's dead," Emily told me flatly. "He was confused. He doesn't want me there, and I promise you if I show up he's just going to be angry. Spencer's a grown man who can take care of himself, and he'll call me if he needs me."
She hung up without another word, leaving me scoffing at the phone. No wonder he left home to wander around the country. My heart reached out to him, though. I was sure that if I were in the same spot as him, I'd ask for Ernie too. 
The rest of the night went by in a blur. They took him away for a bit, patched me up as I glared at the floor, and before I knew it Mattie May and Rose were sitting beside me in a room. They held my hands as I stared at Spencer's bruised face, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. 
At least he was breathing. At least I wasn't watching Ernie's dead body like I had almost ten years ago. I wasn't holding Mattie May as she broke down in tears or listening to Rose wail himself to sleep. 
"I gotta get out of here," I announced after a while. The sun was beginning to peek through the blinds, and I needed a drink. I stood to make my way toward the door when Mattie May put a soft hand over my new cast. 
"You should be here when he wakes up."
I looked back at her with a hard glare, then glanced over at Spencer. My mind was too muddled with memory to stay, exhausted and wired at the same time. 
"I'm gonna go work on the boat."
She and Rose shared a knowing look, but I pulled away from them before they could hug me like I knew they wanted to. Rose cleared his throat and nodded, "We'll send Rico down when Spencer's awake."
"Don't," I told him bitterly. The last person I wanted to talk to right now was the idiot who started the brawl in the first place. I still had the napkin in my pocket. 
"Honey-."
I turned on my heel and walked out. I stopped making deals with God when the light of my life finally died. I wanted to guard what was left of the good in me and Ernie, our life in this town. If ash blocked out the sky, I would hold the town safely with my left hand, and ball up my right. I’ll always owe something to this place, but the closer I get to the ten year anniversary of my husband’s death I realize how I’ve made this place my own tomb. 
When I was in shambles, when I got too weak, the ocean grew hands to hold me. It’s time I stopped blaming God and the ocean. It’s not their fault that they can’t help me. I’m the problem, and I hurt everyone around me. Even a stranger like Spencer was hurt just because I was around, and Ernie died because he always loved my adventurous spirit. He wasn’t even supposed to go on that last trip with me… I have to get away before I hurt anyone else.
I’ll miss everyone at once, everything about this place. I miss it and I’m still here, living in a future memory. But most of all, I miss the ocean. I’ve been running for a decade now in place, never going anywhere. 
I think I’m ready to go.
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Spencer's head pounded as he struggled to open his eyes. A sharp yipping sound permeated his fuzzy brain, accentuating what was already one of the worst headaches he'd had in years. 
"There he is," a deep twang came from his left. "How ya feelin', son?"
Spencer managed to open one eye only to see a tall Asian man in a cowboy hat and lab coat smirking at him over a clipboard. A bolo tie peeked out from his plaid shirt under the coat, glittering turquoise shining under the sunlight from the window to his right. 
"Honey," he managed to croak out. Spencer tried to get his hands underneath him to sit up, but his right one wouldn't move from his chest. 
"Hold on, boy," a familiar voice came from somewhere near. There was a loud click and he was being sat up on whatever hard surface he was on. 
"You're okay, baby," a soft one came next, and when Spencer managed to blink away the fizzles from his vision he spotted Mattie May and her warm hand on his shoulder. 
"Where's Honey?" Spencer rasped. He couldn't see her, and his body wracked with aches and pains. "Did they hurt her?"
"She's fine," the cowboy said in a much too cheerful voice. "Sprained wrist and a few bruises, but that girl's been through worse."
"Lonnie and Lloyd?" he gritted out through a pained hiss as he got himself comfortable. 
"Micah picked ‘em up this morning, trying to pull shotgun pellets out of Lloyd’s arm and Lonnie's ass."
Spencer grunted in acknowledgement, taking in the room around him. Someone had changed him into a t-shirt and sweatpants, and his right arm was cinched tightly to his chest. He figured he’d dislocated it with Lloyd curb stomping him into the concrete. Metal bars surrounded him, and for a moment Spencer worried he'd landed himself in jail… but then the smell hit him. 
"Am I in a fucking dog kennel?" he asked, his confusion and irritation knocking him upside the head. 
“Only place long enough to fit you and the stretcher,” the doctor shrugged, looking down at his clipboard once more. “You’re gonna be fine. Just take it easy for a few days, keep the brace on for three. Folks, if I could have the room with my patient.”
“I was a trauma surgeon up in L.A. back in the day,” the doctor muttered as Rose and Mattie May left. “Small town like this can’t afford a doctor and a vet, so I went to veterinary school to do both. If it’s really bad, we’ll airlift them to the hospital in Wild Creek.”
“Where’s Honey?” Spencer asked, ignoring him. He didn’t care about all these random people in this town and their ridiculous lives before coming here. He didn’t even really care about Honey, but he’d gotten his ass kicked trying to keep her safe, and he was a bit disappointed she wasn’t sitting here.
Doctor Altman pointed behind him, “She’s at the dock, working on her boat.”
“When can I leave?”
“Right now, but I wanna talk to you about your liver,” he replied nonchalantly. He fixed Spencer with a pointed stare as his lip curled down into a frown. “Keep goin’ like this and yer fixin’ for a transplant.”
“I’ll be long gone before I need one,” Spencer shot back.
The doctor nodded, “But before you kill yourself you’re gonna stimulate the local economy with all the bourbon you can buy.”
“At least I’ll be doing someone a solid,” he replied.
“I talked to your former supervisor at the BAU,” Altman sighed, glancing down at his clipboard. Spencer’s blood chilled in his veins. “She explained that you didn't want pain medication due to addiction, so I withheld. You're not really in enough pain to need it anyways."
"Yeah, you're a real Saint," Spencer muttered, but then his face flushed with shame. "Did anyone el-?"
"Nobody knows but me and Barbie, my fellow doctor," Altman cut him off with a dismissive wave. "Or about explosions, torture, or gun shot wounds. Half my clients might be animals but I still have doctor-patient confidentiality."
Altman glanced up at him, "Honey was pretty worried about you. I think she could do with finding someone who makes her happy, but I'll let you know everyone in town is mighty protective of her. She’s done a lot for this place, y’know?"
"I'm not sleeping with her," Spencer said defensively, even though he wouldn't mind doing so. "She doesn't even like me, and I don't like her."
“Shame,” Altman grinned, turning to talk away. He threw over his shoulder as he made his way out the door, "Funny how you took a bat to the face and she shot two men, then, huh?"
A few moments later, a young woman named Barbie came in and helped him sit up and stand from the bed. He was wobbly, but Spencer knew from experience he’d be just fine after a few shitty days of pain and irritation. She had bright blue hair and beautiful dark skin, and those spacers in her ears that Spencer couldn't help but look through every time she wasn’t paying him much attention. She told him without him asking that they call her that because of her playful wigs and matching scrubs, and when he said they should have called her Polly Pocket she laughed.
At his request, Mattie May drove him down to the dock to find Honey. Spencer watched the small town go by in the side mirror, eyeing his bruises and pinched eyebrows and hating every moment of it. The arm brace itched and his shoulder ached, and all he wanted was a drink. 
“I know you want to check on her, but she’s not in the best mood,” Mattie May drawled as she avoided the pothole that landed him here in the first place. “She doesn’t like hospitals, and she was pretty tired when we got to the clinic last night.”
“Nobody likes hospitals,” he muttered, not really thinking, just glaring at his mottled nose and its purple blotches. 
“She hasn’t been there since Ernie died. It’s where we stored his body after the accident,” Mattie May said quietly. Spencer tore his gaze from himself to see her eyes glistening with tears. She cleared her throat and nodded to herself as she drove along the beach. “Doc Altman did the autopsy, but you could look at him and know it was that lightning strike that killed him. Honey took it the hardest of all of us, but instead of hiding she started working. She did everything for everyone in town, just like Ernie used to. 
"She did shifts at the diner for Michelle, helped Rose in the shop when Rico was too much of a mess to leave the house. She even fixed Bernie for Nell one time." Mattie May's eyes were far away but she drove steadily down the winding road. "The whole town came to a standstill, we just couldn't believe what happened. They were so young and in love and… she just never stopped moving. I think it's killing her."
The ocean shone brightly on her side of the car, the sun reflecting off her high cheekbones and full lips. Despite her grief, Mattie May smiled at Spencer. She reached over and patted his knee. “Time doesn’t make things much easier, but folks sure like to say it does. I’m sure you know a bit about that.”
“Distance doesn’t help like I thought it would, either,” Spencer replied softly. He liked Mattie May. Hell, if he let himself admit it he liked Collie and Michelle too. That was about it, though. Everyone else was crazy. Spencer swallowed thickly and put his hand over hers, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She flashed him a megawatt smile and pointed at her chest, “He’s still here with me. I didn't lose anything but the ability to see and talk directly to him. That boy’s with me every single day and just like when he was alive, every day I’m better for it.”
Mattie May sighed happily as they pulled down onto the beachway. “Calling it a loss makes it seem like they’re nothing now, like they just disappeared. It feels that way sometimes, but love doesn’t just evaporate, baby. It turns into something else and finds its way back to you. You just have to look for it in all of its forms. You have to let it in again.”
Spencer didn't have a good reply, so he said nothing. Mattie May parked in the same lot he had his first day and pointed down the beach, "The boats beached down there a way. It's on stilts, you can't miss it."
Spencer thanked her and pulled himself slowly from the car. His body felt like a bruise being poked by a curious child, and the hot sun did little to alleviate it. He felt like an idiot in sweats and his converse. He still didn't know who gave him the clothes, or put them on him, but his red shirt read 'Thunderbird Soccer League.' At least it wasn't scratchy like most t-shirts. 
Sweat pooled beneath the arm brace, his hair sticking to the back of his neck. He really needed to cut it, but he liked the slight rebelliousness of growing it out. Twenty years of the FBI's strict rules made it seem taboo, and despite the year Hotch let him grow it out until Strauss complained, he hadn't had it long in a while. 
He spotted the boat, and just like Mattie May said it was on stilts. The dock was only a few hundred feet away, why didn't she just put it in the water?
Isle of Honey was scrawled across the side in white script. Three masts stood tall against the oceanic backdrop, the bright blue of the hull glimmering under the sunlight. He vaguely recalled this type of vessel was called a schooner. Spencer found his hand reaching out on its own to touch the shiny surface. Smooth fiberglass welcomed his touch, and before he knew it he was smiling. 
A deep crack was sealed and patched through the middle. The image of that fateful night crashed through his mind without permission. He could see the storm in his mind's eye, see Honey with the same fear in her eyes as she had last night before Lonnie's fist connected with her cheek. He could even imagine Ernesto and his locs, the lightning strike on the deck that must have blown the ship apart. 
"So you're alive," a voice came from above. Spencer looked up to see Honey, her body in silhouette as she eclipsed the sun. Her hair shone brightly, her beautiful figure cutting just the right curves as he stared dumbfounded at her. "Glad I didn't do all that work for nothing."
A bottle hung limply in her fingers, and she swayed a bit on her feet, dressed in a tight wife beater and shorts. Spencer let his fingers drag down the side of the hull and flashed her a smile, "Permission to come aboard, captain?"
She scoffed and waved a hand, "Permission granted, dickhead."
A few cinder blocks were attached as haphazard stairs that led to the ladder. It took him a few minutes to make his way up, and Honey reached out a hand and gripped him under the armpit to pull him the rest of the way. 
He couldn't help himself as he finally saw her up close, and his free hand reached out to touch her cheek. The first bruise was as big as he'd thought it would be, covering most of the left side of her face and nose, but a newer one blossomed in a flat line across her chest and now she had a black eye. 
She flinched but didn't pull away, and a hand wrapped in a thick brace came up to rest over his wrist. Spencer's rage from the night before bubbled up like acid, his voice low, "What did they do to you?"
"Relax, I was fine White Knight," she replied dismissively, but she shook before him. Her breath smelled like tequila, and her watery smile betrayed her false confidence. "Lonnie…twisted my hand behind my back and shoved me into the bar. He hit my face on it by gripping my hair."
Honey made a face and shrugged, "You came in before it went further, so I'm fine. I should've locked the front door."
Spencer let his hand slide from her, and he took the bottle from her fingers. Tequila wasn't his favorite, and it was barely seven in the morning, so he winced as he took a long swig from it. 
"You didn't do anything wrong," he told her after a hard swallow. "I told Rose I'd get you home safe and I was too drunk. Probably should've stopped after those idiots left."
Honey shook her head, "I'm not your responsibility. I barely know you."
Spencer nodded, but she couldn't understand. The way he was trained, she was his responsibility. Someone was in trouble and he was too wasted to help her like he should've. A few years ago he would have marched the Evarts twins down to the station himself. 
She side eyed him, frowning. Her bruised hand reached out and gripped the hem of his mystery shirt, "Did Mattie May give you this?"
Spencer looked down, a bit self-conscious. Getting his first real look at it, he saw that it was well worn. The letters were etched and faded from years of use, sweat stains under the armpits and at the collar line. 
"I don't know," he shrugged. "I woke up in it."
"Hmm," she hummed. Honey's eyes went glassy for a moment, but then she flashed him a smile that hurt his chest, because he'd given it so many times himself. "Just don't ruin it. She loves that thing."
Honey took the bottle from his hand and went to the front of the boat, taking a swig and fiddling with something. Spencer realized at that moment that the shirt probably belonged to Ernesto. Calling him Ernie, even in his mind, felt too familiar. He didn't know the man well enough to call him by a nickname said with as much love as the people in this town. 
It felt wrong to wear it after being so pathetic at protecting this dead man's wife. He didn't deserve the comfort, and wished it was at least scratchy so he could take it off. 
He cleared his throat to get her attention, but she didn't look up. For some reason he waved to the distance and asked, "Why don't you park this at the dock?"
Honey shrugged as she pulled on some rope and tied a knot. "I don't like the water."
He nodded to himself. Unsure why, he didn't want to go back to the room just yet. He chalked it up to not wanting to walk all the way there. Spencer's feet moved on their own until he ended up sitting next to her on the deck, passing the bottle back and forth. 
The ocean glimmered like a gemstone, soft waves dancing out in the distance. Kids laughed as they ran around wildly, enjoying firecrackers that were thankfully just far enough away to not be a bother to him. Boats zipped about in the bay along with jet skis and people on water skates. 
"You know about Ernie, don't you?" Honey asked after a while. 
"Why are you asking me that?" he asked back quietly. 
"Most people would've asked why I was building a boat if I didn't want to take it on the water," she whispered bitterly. "You might be an asshole but you're not an idiot."
"Not as big of an asshole as you thought, though."
"I suppose not. You're more of an idiot than I originally took you for, but something had to give."
He chuckled at that. Spencer couldn't really help himself, and he bumped his shoulder against hers, "So why are you building a boat if you don't want to take it on the water?"
Honey scoffed, but a smile broke out across her bruised face. "I hate seeing it beached."
Her shoulders sank and she fiddled with her fingers. "We lived on it for so long, it doesn't seem right for it to just sit here collecting dust. Ernie really loved it, so did I."
"What are you going to do with it when you're done?"
Honey laughed, a bit maniacally. She settled down and pointed out at the water. "I'm gonna set it on fire."
"That's a good plan," Spencer replied, making a face. 
"Yeah, I thought so too." 
They sat there for a little longer, just watching the water. The sun beat down on them, making them sweat, but neither really noticed. It was comforting to just sit there with her. Her hair blazed in the sunlight, brightening up what started as a shit day in a dog kennel. 
Spencer couldn't really explain it, but it comforted him to know what she'd been through. It obviously destroyed her, and like him she had long since given up on putting the pieces back together. He knew instinctively that Honey wasn't going to try to fix him, and he had no interest in fixing her. 
Sometimes it was nice to just be broken, and make no apology for it. 
"Aren't you supposed to be getting ready?" Honey asked suddenly, breaking him out of his reverie. 
"For what?" he asked sharply, a bit suspicious. 
"To go to the Falls with the boys."
"What boys?" 
She held out her hand and ticked them off as she rattled off names, "Rose, Holly, Rico, and Lionel."
Spencer glared at her, "What makes you think I'm going anywhere with four strange men?"
"Rose said you don't like the fireworks. They all served so on the fourth of July they all go to the Falls and camp out for the night," Honey explained with a smirk. "You can't hear them from there. They cook out and drink, and I know you like doing one of those things."
She shook the bottle at him with a shit eating grin, and Spencer took it from her. Taking a long pull, he squinted at her. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glowered, "They're not gonna kill me, are they?"
She shook her head and laughed, "Only if you have a drinking contest with a bunch of Rangers. Then you might die. Those guys are professionals."
"Good to know," he huffed, shaking his head. 
"So, you're gonna go?" Honey's eyes were wide, syrupy sweet as she lit. Spencer's heart clenched tightly in his chest at the sight, and he found himself nodding. "It'll make the guys happy, whether they'll admit it or not."
"I don't have anywhere else to go anyways," Spencer shrugged it off, but her happy giggle made him smile back. "Might as well die in the California wilderness with a bunch of random dudes."
"See, they'll love that especially. Bravery goes a long way with these guys."
"So they're only inviting me out because I got my ass kicked defending you?"
Honey leaned her shoulder against his and nodded. "Won you a few points in my book, too. Aaaaanndd, they're not really asking. I was informed that you would not be sleeping in my hotel tonight."
"Mmm," he muttered. He hated looking at her bruises, but he couldn't make himself look away. There was something about her that kept his eyes on her, something stirring deep in his gut. Spencer set the bottle on the deck and waved a hand at her brace. "Thanks… for getting me out of there."
Honey's eyes meet his, glittering in the rising sun. Saltwater and citrus emanated from her skin with the light breeze, her entire being seeming to come from the sea. He had the image of a mermaid pop up in his mind, free of the land and all the pain that comes with it. He wished she could escape to the sea like Rose said she used to, but after what happened to her husband a fear of the ocean was only natural. 
"Thank you for protecting me from those jackasses." Her voice was small, embarrassed even. Her eyes went glossy and her chin wobbled a moment before she spoke again, "I don't know what they would have done if you hadn't been there."
"Doesn't matter now. If something happened to you, I'm sure Rose would've killed me anyways."
She laughed lightly, and that clenching came back to his chest. "Let's just say we're even."
She stuck out her good hand, so he put out his. They didn't match up as it was his left and her right, but after a moment of twisting they got them clasped. She shook his once, but didn't let go. 
Their fingers lingered, hanging loosely with each other. Even with the heat of the day it was comforting, and Spencer's mind made a note of how long it had been since he had a hug. Fourteen months and seven days, to be exact. 
He cleared his throat and let his hand fall back to his side. He had to look down at his lap to avoid her sharp gaze. 
He had no business being here, on the personification of this girl's grief. He had no right to be a part of her story or this town's. He shouldn't even be wearing the hero's shirt, finding comfort in its softness and memory. 
Spencer wasn't a hero. He was hardly even a man anymore. He hadn't been for a long time. 
"You ready to go?" Honey asked softly, and when Spencer turned to look at her she was smiling at him with more kindness than he deserved. 
She stood and held a hand out for him. He ignored it and managed to get his wobbly legs to work to stand by himself. Honey watched him curiously but said nothing. He waved a hand toward the ladder.
"After you, captain."
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Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Notes: How do you think Spencer will fare with the boys? Do you think their tragic backstories will clash or help them get closer?
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@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks  @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo @sebastiansstanswhore 
@louderfortheback @pandabiiissh @calebye
@dottirose @lfaewrites @padsfirewhisky @wheels-upin-thirty @f-me-reid @justanothercmblog 
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fictionfunshop · 1 year
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Reblogging because I need to pass my driving test 😬
so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god
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fictionfunshop · 1 year
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Is the hookup story someone is looking for the one from the 2019 wrap party by someone claiming to work post production on Criminal Minds? It used to be on Tumblr but the link no longer works.
YES!!
Either it's fiction or Matthew didn't want his sex moves being out there for people to read
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fictionfunshop · 1 year
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do u have the link to the *famous* confession of someone confessing to sleeping with an actor? and its 90% probs mgg?!!!!
Hi Anon,
I did have a link to it on my page but it seems to have disappeared now from Tumblr....
anyone help a girl out??!
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fictionfunshop · 1 year
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🧿🧿🧿🧿
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fictionfunshop · 1 year
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Soft tummy Spencer gives me LIFE ♥️
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MGG as Spencer Reid Criminal Minds
Spencer’s tummy is something very personal to me, I want to squish it so badly!
tagging some moots: @matthew-gray-gubler-lover​, @reidselle​, @reidsbookclub​, @spencebunny​, @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid​, @pretty-boys-book-club​, @spookydrreid​, @f-me-reid​, @redwithjoon​, @gublerpals​
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* taglist link HERE *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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fictionfunshop · 1 year
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HELLO AGAIN
Thanks for everyone who has followed / liked all my filth so far. It really means alot to me :)
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Work has been hectic but i am DETERMINED to write again! I have a few one-shot ideas I will be working on over the next few weeks as a huge thank you to everyone.
PS - I had pretty much the next chapter of Call Girl Recovery done but i lost it somewhere.....I WILL WRITE IT AGAIN!
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fictionfunshop · 1 year
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MY HEART @smurphyse! I love this story more than life itself
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Are You Ready For This? | Spencer Reid
Series Masterlist | Smurph's Masterlist
Part 18 of Room 405
Warnings: angst, vomiting, pregnancy tests
Summary: Spencer and JJ have a talk, the witness' father comes by the BAU. Later, you and Spencer talk before you both head to work for the evening...
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Spencer strolled into the BAU the next day grinning like a fool. 
He was going to meet your husband, to finally start the process of being fully in your life. He was going to meet your kids, all of them and on purpose this time, and words could never explain how excited he was. 
You were everything to him. Your family would be too, all of them. Even Chuck, and he was determined to get him to like Spencer… especially if he was going to marry you someday. 
He spent most of the day going over case files with renewed vigor, combing through data on their newly discovered female unsub and trying to make heads or tails from the profile. Alone in the conference room while the rest of the team went over information on other cases, he poured through files slowly and methodically. 
After a bit, his mind fog of crime scene photos and geographical data was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. He looked up to spot JJ lingering in the doorway with that embarrassed-but-sorry look on her face that she usually got after they fought.
“Hey,” she said awkwardly, waving a hand at the piles of paper. “Mind if I join you?”
“I’m not mad at you, JJ,” Spencer said pointedly, but he smiled softly at her.
“Yeah, I’m mostly mad at myself,” she muttered, looking down at her shuffling feet. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”
“I would have,” he replied, and she looked up at him and made her way over.
Sitting on the edge of the table, JJ gazed out the half-shuttered windows and swung her legs. Spencer leaned back in his chair and watched her amusedly, an expectant smile on his face. They did this a lot after an argument, and by now it all seemed a bit ridiculous.
She chanced a glance his way, and they both broke out in stupid grins, laughing lightly. JJ scoffed and scrunched up her nose, “I just want the best for you.”
“She is,” he said simply, and JJ nodded.
“Good,” she murmured, “you deserve it, Spence.”
Spencer licked his bottom lip and twirled his pen in his hand, watching her with amusement, “That’s it? No scolding or yelling? You think I deserve a married woman with kids?”
JJ chuckled in slight annoyance and shot him a look, “I think you’ll get exactly what you deserve in the end, you dick.”
Spencer laughed lightly to himself and stood, the chair rolling out behind him. He sat on the edge of the table and wrapped an arm around JJ’s shoulders, and she wrapped one around his waist, leaning her head on his shoulder. 
“She’s really pretty,” JJ said, and Spencer burst into laughter. “And those shoes, oh my god… Do you think she has a good connect for them?”
“I can ask,” Spencer chortled, shaking his head. The things the women in his life decided to hyperfixate on. 
“Are you happy?” JJ asked quietly, giving his waist a small squeeze. 
Spencer nodded and kissed the side of his best friend’s head, his heart swelling painfully as he answered, “I’m happy. Very happily in love. I’ll explain it all sometime soon, but she’s got a… unique situation we’re working around.”
“Unhappy marriage?”
“Mm-hmm,” Spencer grunted, frowning. “Happy marriage, they’re just not actually together anymore. Haven’t been for years, but they stayed married for the kids. Title only.”
JJ hummed and nodded against him, “That’s some dedication. Are you sure you’re ready for all that?”
Spencer pulled away expecting judgment, but of course JJ’s eyes held only concern for him. Her eyes welled nervously as she expected anger from him as their arguments tended to go, but Spencer sighed and nodded, “I’m ready for all of it, JJ. I’m gonna meet her husband this week for dinner, and if he’s ready I can meet the kids sometime. I want a life with this woman and her family, even her ex. She loves him, and I wouldn’t ever take that away from her.”
“Stepdad Spencer Reid…” JJ smirked, but then her smile faded. “Does she want more kids? You always wanted kids of your own.”
Spencer shrugged, “She says she’s willing to have more but… I don’t need kids that look like me to be a good dad, y’know?”
“Yeah, of course I know,” she scolded him like he was an idiot, slapping at his chest. “I’ve been waiting to be an aunt for twenty years. It’s about time you gave me some kids to spoil.”
Her face lit up and she grinned wide at him, “Garcia’s going to lose her fucking mind! All those kids will be so spoiled by us.”
Spencer laughed as he looked down on the excitement on her face, but a noise coming from the bullpen made both of them turn. Yelling sounded through the hall, and Spencer and JJ flashed one another a look before running down the ramp to see a tall blond man slamming his hands down on a desk as he yelled at Hotch.
“... just a kid, and she’s not sleeping,” the man pleaded, hands shaking as he looked at a pained faced Hotch. 
“Mr. Arends-,” he began but the man cut him off. 
“My wife is losing her mind, Agent Hotchner. You need to find this woman and put her away,” he begged, and tears visibly rolled down his cheeks. “I can’t… I can’t help her like this. She’s too scared.”
“Hotch?” JJ asked, and both men turned to face them. The blond man was taller than Aaron, bulky beyond belief with muscles that coiled dangerously under his shirt. But his desperate gaze betrayed any signs of rage, instead it was full of grief.
Hotch sighed and waved a hand between them, “Charles Arends, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and SSA Jennifer Jareau. They’re two of my team, two of the best and we are all doing everything we can to find the woman your daughter saw.”
Charles nodded, tugging on his fingers anxiously, “Charlie. Look, agents, my daughter is traumatized. I know you want to talk to her again, but… I don’t think she can take it.”
“She seemed more than willing to talk to us the other day,” Hotch started, but Charlie shook his head.
“After the screaming fit she had this morning, my wife will gut you all before she lets you near her again.”
“Yes, I got her voicemail…” Hotch grumbled, but then his dark eyes lit up with an idea. He waved a hand at Spencer, “Dr. Reid is one of our best when it comes to talking with children. I’m sure if your wife met him she’d open up to the idea of us interviewing her again.”
Charlie eyed Spencer and his awkward wave critically, “I think she’d snap that guy in half.”
“How about this?” Hotch offered, “We’ll come by the Nocturne tonight and introduce them. If she gets… upset, we’ll reevaluate. I think your daughter is our best bet at finding this woman and knows more than she thinks. A cognitive interview with Dr. Reid might even help her begin to heal once she’s finally able to talk about it.”
“I’ve had a lot of success with them,” Spencer said when Charlie made a face. “Basically, we go through the event together, but she can stop it at any time. She can hold my hand, your hand, her mother’s… it’ll help her feel like she wasn’t alone during it.”
Spencer sighed, remembering a few of his own after his traumas, “It’s the first real step to moving on. She has to get through it first.”
“My wife goes on stage at nine,” Charlie decided, eyeing Spencer with hope and distrust at the same time. “The kids are with a babysitter on nights when we both work. I’ll be on stage with her but we have a break at ten.”
“We’ll be there,” Hotch told him, and Charlie nodded.
He turned to walk away, but something in Spencer screamed at him to reach out, so he hustled over and opened the doors for him, “I’ll take you downstairs.”
Neither man said much even as they got to the elevator. Charlie leaned against the back wall and sighed heavily. The big man seemed so small even though he was nearly a head taller than Spencer, and he couldn’t help himself as he said quietly, “It doesn’t seem like it now, but it will get better. It takes a lot of work.”
Charlie rolled his head toward Spencer and nodded, “My wife is very protective. She had our oldest when she was pretty young and she raised her by herself before we met.”
A prideful respect ripped through him. It sounded like you and your own dedication to your children, so fierce and mother bear-like, Spencer couldn’t help but smile.
“My girlfriend is the same way.”
“She also crazy?” Charlie chuckled, but it was full of exhaustion. Spencer could tell the man hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time, and it was weighing heavily on him that he couldn’t help his own daughter. 
“Yeah, she’s nuts, but I’m in love with her,” he huffed, and Charlie chuckled and nodded to himself. 
As the elevator opened, Charlie set a heavy hand on Spencer’s shoulder and gave him a small squeeze, “Thanks, doc. I’ll see what I can do, but… my wife is feral when it comes to keeping those kids safe.”
He took a step out, his hand sliding from Spencer to his side. Spencer held the door and called out, “I’ll keep her safe, Charlie. You guys just need to let me.”
Charlie nodded, giving Spencer a feeble smile in return, “My wife would like you. She’d say you have puppy eyes and make fun of you, but I think she’d like you.”
Spencer smiled, “Then I’ll put on my best face tonight when I meet her. We’ll get through this together, okay?”
“Yeah, thanks, doc,” he muttered, giving him a wave, and then he headed out the door. 
-------------------------
You sighed as you laid in bed with Tulip, spooning her as she slept fitfully. You’d come home to Charlie trying and failing to calm her down after a nightmare, then spent the whole day coddling her while Corrinne took the rest of the kids to Charlie’s house.
She’d called and said Charlie went to talk to Agent Hotchner, but you didn’t really care as you’d left a scathing curse-filled voicemail for him anyway.
You couldn’t seem to get comfortable, still feeling bloated and a bit sore after your night with Spencer. Your night together had been wonderful, but you were quickly realizing that those nights would be further and fewer in between if Tulip kept having trouble. 
You wished he were here right now, holding your hand. You were sure he’d sit on the edge of the bed and rub your shoulders, that he’d comfort Tulip the best he could… you couldn’t wait to introduce him to Charlie. He’d really like him.
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, and you quickly rolled over to snatch it and answer. Tulip stirred as you held it up to your ear, turning to squint up at you.
“Mom?” 
“It’s okay, baby, go back to sleep,” you murmured as you heard Spencer’s voice on the other end. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Okay,” she grumbled, nuzzling back into the pillow and tugging the covers tighter over her body.
You slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind you, going to sit on the edge of the tub and put your head in your hand, “You still there?”
“Is this a bad time?” he asked softly, “I can let you go.”
“No,no,” you insisted, feeling relief just at the sound of his voice. “I’m just about to get ready for work.”
“Ahh, well we’re twinning tonight,” Spencer chuckled. You heard clothing shift on the other end, no doubt his tie slipping from his collar. “I’ve got to work tonight too. Just thought I’d hear your voice a bit before.”
“Are you okay? You sound tired.”
“Yeah, just… a long night ahead of me,” he replied quietly. “Trying to finish something up so we can have dinner this week without interruption.”
“Y’know, I still don’t know what you do, Spencer,” you realized, dread washing over you in the same instant. 
“And I don't know what you do, sweetheart,” he returned, but it was light. “All in good time, I’m sure.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Spencer shuffled around the room, going through drawers. “Hey, I’m trying to look casual tonight and not stuffy. Is a button up with no tie casual?”
You laughed quietly, “You got a hot date?”
He made a noise of disgruntlement, “Eh, more like a work event I’m not looking forward to. I’m just nervous, it’s not really my scene.”
“Wear some dark slacks and one of those patterned purple button ups,” you offered, “Unbutton a few at the top just for me.”
You bit your thumb as he laughed on the other end, “Okay, just for you I will.”
Your stomach churned as you sat there listening to him move around, and you let out a long sigh to try to calm it. You heard him stop, “You still feeling sick?”
“I’m okay. I’ve got five kids, Spencer, they probably gave me something.”
“Okay,” he said slowly, and you could hear his frown through the phone. “Maybe you should take the night off.”
“I’ll think about it,” you said quietly. You listened for Tulip on the other side of the door, satisfied when you heard her snoring instead. Biting your lip and eyeing the door, you whispered, “I love you, Spencer.”
He chuckled lightly, and you found yourself blushing, “I love you too. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I gotta go. I love you, stay out of trouble.”
“Never,” you replied devilishly.
He laughed once more before he hung up, leaving you alone in the bathroom. You set the phone on the sink ledge just in time for your stomach to lurch once more, and you barely got the toilet lid up in time before you emptied it into the bowl.
You tried to keep quiet as the nausea was gone just as quick as it came, staring in horror as realization washed over you. The bloating, the nausea, the sore and tender breasts… you hadn’t felt like this since…
Since you were pregnant with Poppy.
��Oh, fuck, fuck,” you whispered to yourself as you flushed the toilet and crawled over to the sink. Opening the cabinet underneath, you dug through it until you found a familiar pink box you’d stared at four times before.
Quickly you ripped open the box and went about taking the test, sitting anxiously on the toilet as you struggled to gain enough courage to even pee on the damned stick. It took ten minutes of leg jiggling and trying to calm yourself down before you finally managed to do it.
Snatching a paper towel and setting it on the counter, you grabbed your phone and opened the screen only to be confronted by a photo of your family. You, Charlie, all five of the girls… Tulip, Daisy, Ivy and Willow, and Poppy all grinning back at you. 
Were you ready for more?
Your heart beat wildly in your chest at the thought. You didn’t know enough about Spencer to know if you were ready this quickly. He didn’t know your job, your past, all your kids’ names… he hadn’t even met Charlie yet! So much was happening so quickly and you didn’t know how prepared you were for it.
He said he wanted to marry you… but that was just talk, right?
You set your timer for three minutes, sitting with your back to the edge of the tub and trying not to stare at it. Your fingers rubbed anxiously along the strand of delicate pearls Spencer had gotten you. 
You knew Spencer would be a great dad, that he not only wanted kids but wanted the kids you had and a life with you. He would be perfect and Charlie would love him… but you hadn’t talked about so much. What would his reaction be when he found out his love was a former stripper with a sordid past? Would he leave?
You’d still have Charlie and the kids, but the thought of Spencer rejecting you brought terrified tears to your eyes. Your chin wobbled and you thought about calling Charlie, confessing your fears to your best friend and having him comfort you, but the girls needed him and Tulip needed you. 
The only real way this could be happening was if your IUD dislodged… you'd have to go get it removed and checked out. 
It felt like years before the tinkling chime echoed through the bathroom, signaling time was up. With a shaky hand, you reached up and grabbed the test from the counter.
You looked up at the ceiling, praying for good news, even though you weren’t sure what you wanted. Pulling in a shaky breath, you held it and counted to three before letting it go.
One. 
Two.
Three.
Turning the test over in your hands, your jaw dropped when you spotted two lines inside the little oval screen. The stick clattered to the floor with an earth shattering clack as you stared wide eyed at nothing at all.
It was positive.
You were pregnant with Spencer Reid’s baby.
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Notes: **GASP** Sweetheart's pregnant! And Spencer's going to The Nocturne tonight... where she'll be performing... WHAT do you think is going to happen?????? Are you excited to see a night at the Nocturne?
CM Taglist:
@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks  @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo 
Room 405 Taglist:
@rexorangecouny @nomajdetective @halloween-is-my-nationality @spenciesprincess @hoely-scripture @gspenc @princesssmooshie @loveeee2134 @reidslefteyebrow @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @hotchandspencearedilfs @barbietiingz @riverjane-d @2-gay-possums-in-a-trench-coat @simplyparker @thebloomingeagle @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @fangirling-galore @randomhoex @drspencerreid80 @kbakery@fortheloveofwonderland @athenabrown @yukachankyu @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @baciamisottolalucedicentostelle @athenabrown @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @elhotchner
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fictionfunshop · 1 year
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SECOND THIS!!
okay but what if we scrap most of my WIPs (TB&TB will be unaffected, I am dedicated to finishing her) and start over with an expanded request list in honor of the reboot? we still alive here, friends? what say we?
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fictionfunshop · 1 year
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FINALLY!!!!
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Christmas Confessions
Smurph’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Chapter 14 of Operation: Sand Leopard
Warnings: canon typical stories, grief, crying, physical arguments, screaming matches
Summary: Spencer finally learns who Teddy and Alijah are to you
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Two months went by in a flash. 
Spencer's birthday had come and gone, and you and the unit had surprised him with a pile of mashed potatoes in the shape of a slice of cake with an emergency candle stuck in the middle of it. 
"'S not ideal," You'd chuckled as you lit it for an embarrassed and amused Spencer. "But, we want you to feel appreciated, Doc."
On Halloween most of the base had filtered to one section for a movie night. Normally movie nights were held in a tent and the audience was rotated over a weekend, but for big holidays they set up a big wall with sheets stapled to it and people sat on blankets in the dirt with their units. 
You fell asleep about fifteen minutes into Hocus Pocus, as always sleeping in places that weren't your bed. You'd slumped into his shoulder with your feet on Peanut's lap, snoring loud enough to wake the devil. Spencer had spent the entire time committing the sensation of it to memory, wanting to live in the moment. 
Mercer sat with them all. He'd been different since Hitchens' death, quiet and more accommodating to your requests that he'd been previously. He was even trying to be Spencer's friend, and Spencer did his best to return it. 
After thirty minutes of your raucous snoring, Mercer tugged on one of your braids to wake you up. You gave him a death glare, but he just smiled like a cat. You and Spencer spent the rest of the night sitting far away from the projector, chatting idly and tossing pebbles into an old tin can as you waited for the unit to finish the movie. 
On Thanksgiving he had a call with the BAU in your office, and he ate a tray of slimy turkey and watery potatoes and laughed with them. Garcia cried when he had to hang up, but Spencer managed to wait until the video was over to put his head in his hands and sob. 
He'd been taking steadying breaths to calm himself down when the creaking of the linoleum made him look up. You pretended not to notice his tear stained face and plopped down across from him in a chair, handing him a handmade turkey out of construction paper. 
It made him laugh, so you pulled out some supplies and he spent a few hours with you drawing bad turkeys and talking about the BAU. You were attentive, kind, letting him get out how much he missed his family without making him actually say how much he missed them. Spencer just told you about old cases, nights at Rossi’s or at the bar, JJ's wedding and all the other family nights. 
You never told him about your family. You said you didn't have any. 
Spencer shared some of the holiday traditions with Alijah, including making the hand turkeys, because he thought she'd like it. She did, and she was excited for Christmas… because he told her he'd gotten her a present. 
Luke had bought it for him and sent it to Iraq along with some wrapping paper at his request. It was a Lord of the Rings box set, because Spencer hoped Alijah would like these since she loved the Redwall books. They'd read through almost all of them together by this point. 
Spencer was sitting in the rec center while you talked to General Dobbs about Alijah, struggling to wrap the books. You had been visiting her lately, but you wouldn't tell him what you talked about. Alijah said you were just trying to get to know her and ask more about her interests, and she finally seemed to be warming up to you. 
The unit was wrapping some of their own presents to send back home, mostly just little things they'd picked up at the post exchange and trinkets from the Iraqi markets. Peanut side-eyed him as she finished a pristine box. 
"Do you want help, Doc?"
Spencer glanced at her perfectly wrapped box then back at his own. It was misshapen and looked awful, but he swatted her hand away anyway, "No, I wanna do it myself. I think this is good enough, don't you?"
Barretti stifled a laugh behind his meaty hand as Garrett and Morello actively avoided his gaze. Peanut smiled demeaningly at him and nodded, "It looks… great."
Spencer frowned and grumbled to himself, and Barretti patted him on the back to comfort him. "You going home for Christmas, Doc?"
Spencer shrugged, "Not unless you guys are."
"Our liberty this year falls from the twentieth to the twenty-seventh," Garrett grunted happily, "we're going home next week."
"We can all get dinner at Moe's one night," Morello offered, "bring the family and kids. It'd be nice."
"Ehh, it wouldn't be the same without the boss there, though," Peanut said sadly, shaking her head. 
"She's not going home?" Spencer asked, and the unit all shared a look. 
"Since her husband died a few years ago, she doesn't really go home on liberty. She usually spends it here."
"Yeah, when Teddy died she kinda stopped going back to the States," Garrett muttered. "It's hard for her to go back there without him."
Blood rushed to Spencer's ears as his hands stilled on Alijah's present. THe heat soaked linoleum swayed underneath his chair and his vision tunneled. Everything you'd ever said to him blew through his mind at breakneck speeds. 
Captain Theodore Alejandro Martinez died in a plane explosion two and a half years ago.
He told Angel everything.
He didn't mean to die, Spencer
The way you'd said it… so soft and tired… he should have known. You were Angel. You were the one Teddy wrote to in those journals. 
He was my best friend. 
"I gotta go," Spencer said suddenly. He nearly jumped from the table in his desperation to find you, leaving the unit confused in the trailer. 
Stomping to the prison barracks with the gift in hand, steam blowing out his ears from the frustration, Spencer sweat like a pig as the blood boiled in his veins. 
He couldn't believe you'd kept this from him. Of all the things you'd done to test his loyalty, his commitment to Alijah… this took the cake. 
----------------
"But you feel like you're making progress?" General Dobbs asked as you stood in your office, eyeing the murder boards and satellite data plastered all over. 
You were staring out the window, only half listening. You did this nearly every day, and normally your head was in the game, but the closer you got to Christmas the more you were spacing out. 
Teddy had been Catholic, and with a Mexican father and Irish mother, Christmas was a big deal in the Martinez household. Your first few years together, he'd taken you with him to his family's house, and you'd spent your first family Christmas ever with Teddy and his three brothers and their wives. 
It was the first time you'd felt like you were a part of something, a real family. It was also the first time you'd ever told someone you loved them. Sitting in Teddy's car outside of the base in DC, you'd been holding hands and getting in some last minute heavy petting before returning to your bunk when it suddenly burst from your lips. 
When he chuckled at your wide eyes and brushed back your hair, he said it back, calling you angel and gazing at you so sweetly your heart burst. He pulled you in for a kiss, less than ten seconds passed before Teddy was putting the car in reverse and taking you to a motel for the night. 
It was the best Christmas you'd ever had. Except for every year spent with him after. 
"Agent L/N," Dobbs' voice broke through your pained memories. "Are you listening to me?"
"Hmm?" you asked absentmindedly as you turned to face him. He had a brow cocked at you and an unimpressed look on his face. "Uh, yes sir. I apologize."
"Thinking about Teddy?" he asked softly, and you gave him a sheepish smile. 
"Almost three years later and Christmas hasn't gotten any easier."
General Dobbs waved a hand at one of the fold out chairs, and he waited for you to sit down before settling into one himself. A man of at least sixty, he was built like a brick wall, stocky and large, but he had kind brown eyes and a soft smile he only seemed to spare for you. 
He'd been Teddy's commanding officer, and when the DoD fought back against your idea to take up his mission as your own, Dobbs advocated for you. He was the only one who really knew what Teddy wanted to do with Alijah after capturing Sayeed, and he was the driving force behind your slow and sometimes failing mission. 
"When my Maria died, I spent seven straight Christmases in the Middle East," he told you, and you nodded. "It's only going to get easier if you let it. You've faced snipers and terrorists and IEDs, you can face grief."
"Yeah, I know General," you shrugged, "I'm just not ready yet."
He watched you for a moment before deciding you probably weren't going to talk about it anymore. He tapped the table and sighed, "How's Doctor Reid handling Alijah?"
A small streak of jealousy jolted through you, "Better than me. She trusts him."
"Do you?"
You thought about it for a moment, though you didn't really need to. Since deciding you were going to adopt Alijah and Sivan two months ago, you had poured every bit of trust into Spencer you could… the only thing you'd held back was that the journals he was reading had been written for you. 
Every night you spent with Spencer Reid only made your heart melt further, your self defense of it going quickly out the window. Spencer made you laugh, and he made you happy… it was fucking terrifying. 
You started spending time with Alijah again just to ease some of the tension between you. You wanted her to trust you, to see you as the mother Teddy had presented you as. You were different since he died but… you could be different again, for her. 
And it was all because Spencer decided civilian life wasn't enough for him. 
Your time with him had already changed you, and the dreamer inside that had laid dormant since Teddy's death had risen to the surface. You envisioned mornings before school, making breakfast and driving her to class, seeing her graduate. You saw long nights with Sivan, reading them both stories before bed and making sure their dreams were peaceful and sweet. 
And in each of those fucking daydreams stood Spencer Reid, beside you through it all. 
"I trust him with my life, sir."
"Good," Dobbs grinned, "I'd like this all to end soon. Send you home and know that you're safe in the States."
"You know you're not my dad, right?" you asked lightly, and he shot you a playful glare. 
"Someone has to keep you in line, young lady."
"Yeah, yea-," you began, but the door slammed open as Spencer strode through. 
The thin metal hit the wall, his angry stomping shaking the trailer as his gaze landed on you, "When were you gonna tell me?"
"Doctor Reid-." 
"No," Spencer snarled as he strode inside. His angry furrowed brow was directed squarely on you, but you stood from your chair and held your own. 
"Doctor Reid," you snapped firmly, and you waved a hand at General Dobbs, making Spencer stop in his tracks. "This is General Dobbs, General Dobbs, this is Doctor Spencer Reid."
"Shit,"  Spencer said under his breath, but he held out his hand as Dobbs stood and extended his own. "It's good to finally meet you, sir."
"Agent L/N has spoken your praises," Dobbs chuckled lightly as he released him. "She says you're a natural soldier."
Spencer's cheeks flourished with a deep red, looking caught out and embarrassed by whatever outburst he had planned, "I, uh, I wouldn't say that, sir."
"I don't usually have much hope for you OGAs, but if she says you're moving the case closer to the end zone, I believe her. She's definitely in a better mood with you here."
You couldn't hold back your glare to your superior officer, especially when he smirked at you and gave you a wink. Spencer dragged a hand across the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous and said, "It's an honor to work with her and the unit."
"Well, I'll leave you to it," Dobbs said after a moment of enjoying watching the two of you squirm. "Good to meet you, Doctor Reid."
"You too, sir," Spencer muttered as Dobbs clomped out of the trailer and let the door swing shut behind him, leaving the two of you alone. 
"So," you began, leaning against the wall and crossing your arms protectively over your chest. "You were about to yell at me, I'm assuming?"
"Uhh, yeah," Spencer sighed. He was clutching a shiny badly wrapped present in his hand, and you couldn't help yourself as you pushed away from the wall to take it from him. 
Spencer watched you inspect his bad wrap job, "It's for Alijah. More books."
You laughed lightly, both at the gift and its paper, "She'll love it, Doc."
Spencer was panting next to you as you sat it down on the table, his body coiled and fierce. You tried to ignore it, not wanting this confrontation, but it seemed he had other plans. 
"Why aren't you going home for Christmas?" he whispered, making you stiffen. 
In a pathetic attempt to hide from him as you often did, you shrugged, "I don't want to."
Suddenly his strong hands flashed out, gripping you by the shoulders. He lifted you like you were nothing in his rage, shoving you against the wall with a ferocity you'd never seen from him. The trailer shook as you snarled back at him, trying and failing to wriggled out of his grip. 
"Goddamnit, Y/N!" Spencer screamed, shaking you. His lanky soft frame had hardened since he came to Iraq, muscles turned to battle ready sinew with a soldier's strength. "When are you going to stop lying to me?!" 
"Get the fuck off me, Spencer!" you screeched back, but he held you firm. 
"You've had me running in fucking circles since I got here!"
"I didn't ask for you to come! You made a choice, you asshole!" you growled, baring your teeth at him. You half expected him to flinch and let you go, but Spencer just leaned in with fire raging in his normally soft hazels. 
"You said you trusted me, and yet at every turn I find out you've lied to me again, Angel," he snarled, his breath hot and heady against your face. 
You stopped fighting him, instead going limp in his arms. Your chin wobbled as you tried to speak in a commanding voice, but it was no use, "I don't owe you a goddamned thing, Spencer, let alone the truth."
"I'm risking my life out here to bring that little girl home, so is the unit," he yelled, pointing behind him as though Alijah were in the room with you. "You owe me the respect and dignity of knowing why."
"What do you want from me?" you scoffed, a bitter smile breaking out on your cheeks. Spencer leaned a little away, but his shoulders still curled toward you with a threat. "You want me to cry and ask you to hold me while I talk about my dead husband? You wanna be the hero in this story-?"
Spencer cut you off by slamming his palm into the wall near your head, "Don't act like I've got some hero complex I'm desperate to play out!"
"She's my daughter and I'll do anything to bring her home!" 
Spencer chuckled bitterly, and now it was your turn to cringe away, "Then why did you spend four months treating her like a criminal? What on earth changed your mind and made you think she'd want to come home with you after that?"
"You did," you whispered shakily. "I was fully intending to have someone else take them, but you fucked it all up, Spencer."
With trembling hands, Spencer released you. His eyes shifted to that familiar sweet kindness he usually had for you, full of a longing you knew was held in your own. As much as you hated him for seeing you, it hit you in that moment that you loved him for it as well. 
"I just wanted to finish what he started," you murmured as tears began to well in your eyes. They spilled over and down your cheeks, and Spencer's hands came up gently this time, wiping them away with the pads of his warm thumbs. "I didn't want to love her anymore, it hurts too much. You… you fucked it all up!"
You burst into tears, bringing your own hands up to cover your shame of being so vulnerable and weak. Spencer pushed them away, then he pulled you into his chest. He smelled of sweat, of cinnamon and musk and sage, and you clutched his shirt like a child as you wept. 
"It hurts because it's real," he told you quietly, and when his lips pressed into the top of your head your knees threatened to buckle. "It's okay, it's okay. I love her too."
"I hate you for coming here," you said, but he didn't let you go. "This was just supposed to be a mission and you fucked it up…"
"Good," was all he said back, holding you so tight you were surely about to crumble into a million pieces, a leaf in the forest. 
Among the monsters, you thought yourself well-hidden. You had thought you were all alone in the trees. Yet, here he was, angry with you and betrayed, and all he did was hold you when you threatened to fall apart. 
"I have to bring her home, Spencer, don't you understand?" you asked tearfully, pulling away just enough to look up at him, but not willing to let him stop holding you. "I'm her mother, and one way or another I'm bringing her home with me."
Spencer leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, and you sighed and nestled into it. His gaze was so beautiful, so warm and safe, and for the first time in a very long time you let yourself break down every wall that protected you from the world. 
"Please help me," you begged in a ragged whisper, your voice cracked with pain and fear. "I know you hate me, but I can't let her down again. Please."
"I don't hate you, Y/N," he breathed, so wracked with emotion you could have hit your knees were it not for his strong arms holding you up. "I love Alijah, I'm not leaving her behind. I… I couldn’t leave you even if I wanted to."
"W-what do… what do you mean?" You asked shakily, watching him with wide eyes. You knew what he meant, because you meant it too. But you were terrified, terrified of losing him and Alijah and Sivan the same way you lost Teddy. 
"You know what I mean," Spencer whispered, reading your mind.  
That's when you saw it, the brokenness for what it really was. He was just as frightened as you were, the same stench of petrified fear pouring from him in waves. The warmth from his skin grounded you, preparing you for the truth about to fall from those lips you wanted nothing more than to kiss. 
"I lost someone too. I know what it's like to want to keep the people you love safe. When she died I thought I was going to, too. I thought my life was over and everything I touched would rot and I wouldn't be able to save it."
His voice quaked like shivering thunder as he clung to you like a lifeline, and you were powerless to do anything but watch him crack himself open bravely for you to see. "It was my fault. She died and I couldn't save her. I had to clean her blood out of my shoes…"
You trailed your fingers up his chest as he petered off, swallowing thickly and closing his eyes at the painful memory. Resting your palm on the back of his neck, you held him close, just to revel in the feeling of his skin against yours. 
"Spencer, what are you saying to me?" you asked in a pleading tone, unsure but wanting to hear him say it. 
Spencer gave you a look, one that said what you already knew. He nuzzled close, his nose brushing yours as he whispered against your lips. He had you caged in against the wall, but you didn't feel trapped, you were safe. 
"I'm saying that I'm falling in love with you and I'll die before I let anything happen to you or your family."
The world came to a sudden and screeching halt. A part of you knew he felt this way, and you knew you felt the same. You also knew you were petrified of losing it all, because you'd lost it all before. But so had Spencer, and here he was, in front of you and prepared to do it again. 
"Spencer-," you began, but he hushed you with a hand over your mouth. 
"I know all you want is for us to go home safely, and I'm not asking you for anything. I just need you to trust me, I don't want anything else."
"I do trust you, I swear to god," you whispered when he pulled his hand away. "I'm just scared."
Spencer nodded, "Me too."
"I'll tell you the truth from now on if you promise to stop shoving me into walls," you chuckled playfully, but it was still tearful. You sniffled and rubbed at your cheek, and Spencer pulled away. 
"Shit, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," he muttered shamefully, scrubbing his face with his hands. "I can't believe I did that. I could blame it on this fucking place but maybe it's just me."
You bit your bottom lip as you watched him beat himself up. You couldn't stand the way hatred for himself washed over him, and you stepped forward and grabbed his collar with both hands. 
Before you could let yourself think about it, you tugged a surprised Spencer down by his shirt, crashing your lips to his. His shocked grunt only spurred you on, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. 
He tasted sweet, like honey and sage as he kissed you back, his warm lips pressing against yours. One arm snaked around your waist, the other cupping your jaw, and within seconds you were being pushed against the wall again. 
Spencer groaned as he pressed his hard body to yours, his heated skin seeping through his shirt and into you. You whimpered against him as he shoved you into the metal, your fingers snaking in his hair and tugging on his too long locks. 
When his tongue snaked between your lips, an embarrassingly pleasure soaked moan erupted from your chest, making Spencer buck his hips against you. His hardening length could be felt through the cargo of both your pants, letting you know that even half hard he had the length and girth of a god. 
He kissed you again, cupping your jaw and holding you like you were the most precious gift he'd ever received. You couldn't believe you were doing this, kissing him in a warzone like devastation wasn't raging around you. Oddly enough, it felt right. 
You were so fucked up. 
So was he. 
You yelped when his hands trailed down your sides, suddenly gripping the backs of your thighs and hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. You held onto his hair for dear life, whining against him, and he slammed you into the wall hard. 
The crunching of the metal frame pulled you two apart to stare at one another with wide eyes. His lips were coated in saliva, swollen and pink and too beautiful for words. 
You couldn't believe yourself, or the fact that the thing you'd wanted for months actually happened. The gravity of it all brought your pathetic self back to earth, and in a panic you pulled yourself from his arms. 
"I shouldn't, I shouldn't have done that," you gasped. You dragged your fingertips over your tingling lips as you watched him in shock. 
"It's okay," he said quickly, but he didn't move. You could see it in his eyes, his love for you. It was too much, it was too real in a place where the outside world didn't exist. 
There was too much at stake. 
"I really shouldn’t have done that,” you panted, but he stood his ground.
“It’s okay,” he said again.
You shook your head frantically, your chest heaving and your skin hot. It was too much, too many emotions and too much care and promise in his eyes. He would do anything for you, anything, but you couldn’t let him.
“I should go see Alijah,” you murmured. You pulled your hand achingly from your lips, and even though you wanted nothing more than to kiss him again, you weren’t going to. “I need to check on her.”
Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded, looking away from you as red hot blush plumed across his cheeks. You made your way to go around him, but as you passed you set a hand on his arm. Spencer caught your eye, filled with such pain and longing you might have stayed in that trailer with him forever just to make it go away.
“I’m not ready,” you whispered.
Spencer covered your hand with his, nodding slowly. His voice shook, and it held not bitterness but reverence, “I’ll be here whether you are or not.”
You said nothing else, just cleared your throat and looked toward the door. Without a backward glance, you left him behind, alone in the office and made your way into the harsh sunlight.
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Notes: *GASP* WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN NEXT???
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