tantalizing pt.1 // pt.2
after not having enough time to fool around with spencer behind your coworkers' backs, you decide to visit his hotel room for some unadulterated fun...until you two get interrupted
let me take care of you // request n.1
you've been caring for spencer since his knee got shot. not being with you has left him feeling frustrated yet guilty about initiating anything. when you notice, you happily service him.
branded // request n.2
spencer had been released from prison not too long ago and although you'll never leave him, the truth is that some things have changed. to show how much he appreciates you, spencer gifts you a locket necklace...with his initial engraved in it.
i'll be your cushion // request n.3
spencer loves people-watching, meaning he's picked up on a few of your habits. when he understands why you cover sharp corners, he decides to do it for you one night
oh, that damn vest // blurb n.1
two scenarios of you telling spencer he looks mighty fine in his kevlar vest
aaron hotchner
makeshift pillow // request n.4
you and hotch have been in a relationship for a few months, only having told the team more recently. although it was mutually decided that pda was strictly off-limits, hotch falls asleep on your shoulder in the jet
"princess" treatment // blurb n.1
a little look into your relationship with aaron, how he treats you, and how it influences his son jack, too
i miss you all. i miss writing. life has not been kind to me these last few months lol but im trying to get back into writing. not sure when i'll be able to flesh anything out enough to post, but i am trying!
just hard bc for some reason i feel like i need to write out all this plot (or unnecessary info, rlly) before getting to the point of my pieces but honestly that gets tiring...AH!
just dropping by to let yall know im thinking of yall and will be back soon :D
You were pregnant but JJ had just left the team and they needed you. You hadn't told anyone; you hadn't even told Spencer.
my masterlist!
cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, guns, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of drugs (antidepressants and opioids), mentions of car accident, gunshot wounds, death of pregnant woman, general criminal minds themes.
wc: 6.2k
a/n: bruh this was a looooong one! dw some banging smut coming in the next one with post-prison reid >:3
now playing... Fare Well by Hozier
This was really starting to piss you off.
You fell to your knees as bile pushed up your throat, your skin paling as you vomited for the third time today. You tried to keep something, anything, down but you would just wind up curled in on yourself and sweating in the corner of the bathroom stall. You ate a couple of crackers and sipped on water to keep your empty stomach satiatedâ But you always ended up right back here on the bathroom floor with your head between your knees trying to will the pain away.
Emily noticed your pale complexion and how exhausted you looked, offering to get you some medicine or ask Hotch about sitting out of the next few cases. You told her you were fine, that it was just stress. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough, though she wasnât fully convinced. To be fair, your workload had increased tenfold since JJ was forced to accept the job at the Pentagon, and you missed her terribly but you were proud of her. But you really could have used her advice right about now.
Because you swore this baby had it out for you.
You found out you were pregnant just over a week ago and you still hadnât told Spencer. You were still wrapping your head around the whole thing because initially, you didnât think you were pregnant, you just thought your body was dealing with the stress and workload in, frankly, a bizarre way. Hotch had wanted you to take over doing JJâs job as communication liaison, which were rather important shoes to fill. He had total faith in your ability to do JJâs job as well as do your own as a profiler, but you werenât so sure anymore.Â
You would tell Spencer when you were ready and right now was not a good time. Everyone was surviving on four hours of sleep a night, far too many cups of coffee and sheer willpower. The absolute last thing they needed was to lose another team member. So you soldiered on like a championâ a champion who still held her head over the bureauâs less than impressive toilet while she threw her guts up.
âY/N?â You didnât even hear the bathroom door open, the ringing rattling around your skull distracting you from your surroundings. Penelopeâs heels clicked against the tiles as she cautiously peered around the wall of the last stall where you kneeled on the ground. âOh my god, sweet thing! Whatâs wrong?â
âIâm fine, Pen,â your voice was hoarse when you finally replied. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to smooth your hair down, attempting to look at least semi-presentable before you left the bathroom to pretend everything was okay.
âNo, no, my girl, you are not fine!â Penelope stood in behind you, pulling your hair out of your face as you vomited the last remnant of your soul into the toilet. âYou need to talk to Hotch, youâve got a bug or something, my dear. You shouldnât even be at work when youâre this sick, let me talk to him for you and you just go homeââ
âIâm not sick, Penelope!â You didnât mean to shout at her, you really didnât, you just felt awful and felt like a shell of yourself with how poorly youâd been sleeping and eating paired with all the stress of doing JJâs job as well as your own. It was just a lot.
Penelope went quiet but stayed close to you, still holding your hair as you sat back on your heels, running your hands down your face. She let out a soft sigh, knowing you didnât mean to shout at her. Penelope was stressed tooâ everyone was.
âIâm sorry, Pen,â you mumbled, your throat hurting from all the vomiting and coughing youâd managed to do todayâ it had to be a record honestly.Â
Penelope just shook her head at you, reaching her hand out toward you, âyou donât have to apologise, sweet girl, I know youâve got a lot on your plate.â You shook your head, you still felt bad and shouting at sweet Penelope was not the way to deal with all the emotions swirling around in your head.
âItâs not fair,â you replied as she helped you to your feet, gently guiding you over to the basin to help you clean yourself up. âYouâre stressed too, I didnât mean to yell.â
Penelope brushed some of your hair out of your face, her gaze narrowing as she watched you, waiting for you to tell her what was going on. It never came and she knew she would have to push you a little. Penelope thought it was necessary though because seeing you like this was awful and she couldnât even imagine how Spencer would react if he knew how sick you were.
âWhatâs going on?â Penelopeâs voice was soft; gentle, just trying to get you to talk so she could help. You were stubborn when it came to asking for help and by the time you did, you had hurt yourself more than necessary trying to solve it yourself. Not this time thoughâ Penelope refused.
âIâm okayââ you looked at Penelope and she raised her brows at you, not accepting that answer in the slightest. You sighed, knowing this is a fight you wouldnât win. âIâm pregnant.â
Penelopeâs jaw nearly hit the floor. She knew something was up with you but pregnant? That was not on this year's bingo card. âWhat?? Y/N thatâsââ she gauged your expression and she really couldnât tell if you were upset or happy about being pregnant. She cut herself off before she finished her sentence, pulling her lips into a line. âAre we happy about this news or are weâŠ?â
âWeâreâŠâ you were happy. Honestly, you were. You and Spencer had talked about having kids one day, ideally after you were married but that didnât seem to be going to plan. Youâd been with Spencer for three years, in the BAU for four, itâs not like your relationship was new or in the honeymoon phase, it just wasnât the original plan and that scared the hell out of you. But you were happy to be carrying his childâ the timing was just piss poor. âWeâre happy⊠just scared.â
âOh, baby,â Penelope cooed. âOf course youâre scared, itâs a huge adjustment. But I know you and I know Spencer, you guys will nail this parenting business.â Penelope managed to prove time and time again why she was your best friend. You often wondered if she knew you better than you knew yourself, which wouldnât really surprise you given her job.
âI hope so.â You smiled softly, feeling somewhat human again after splashing water on your face and washing your hands. You knew Spencer would be a good dad, he was so good with kids and he was so gentle and patient with you. He was meant to be a dad. You just werenât sure if you were meant to be a mother. You wanted to be a family with Spencer, it made you feel warm just thinking about it, but you were a person who worried about almost everything, even the things out of your control. What scared you was how in control you were.Â
âIâm surprised Spencer hasnât told everyone, that boy is obsessed with you and youâre making him a dad? God, it must be killing him sitting on thisââ Penelope suddenly looked at you wide-eyed, connecting the dots all on her own. You winced as you watched her figure it out, gritting your teeth as she let out a soft gasp. âYou havenât told him?!â
You covered your face with your hands, letting out a muffled squeal of frustration into your palms. You would tell him eventually, just not right now, he was far too busy and was already stressing about his own workload, you couldnât imagine how much more stressed he would be if he found out you were still in the field while pregnant.
âPen, please,â you turned to her, âplease keep this to yourself. Iâ We canât deal with this right now. JJâs gone and everyone is worked to the bone, I canât do this to everyone right now, especially Spencer.â Penelope looked at you sympathetically, you knew you were asking a lot of her to keep it to herself, especially when Penelope wasnât great at keeping secrets.
âY/N, sweetie, youâre going to have to tell them eventuallyâ Youâre an FBI Agent. Being in the field is so dangerous and you donât just have yourself to think about anymore.â You knew Penelope was right. You carried a gun around for Christâs sake, you literally hunted down serial killers, active shooters, total psychopaths and everything in between. The field was no place for a pregnant woman.Â
âI know, I know,â you sighed, resting both of your hands on the basin in front of you.
â...How far along are you?â
âTwelve weeks,â you said softly, resting your hand against your belly. You didnât have much of a bump yet but you were sure it would sneak up on you before you even realised. Lucky for you, you wore a lot of baggy sweaters around the office so you had some wriggle room when it came to hiding it.
â...My moneyâs on a girl,â Penelope was trying to make you feel better. She really was helping because the idea of Spencer hosting tea parties, getting covered in kitten stickers and his hair being covered in tiny butterfly clips made your heart swell.
You let out a soft laugh, âI think so too.â
âAlright, my love, I think we should leave this bathroom before they send out a search party,â Penelope laughed, linking her arm with yours to guide you out of the bathroom.Â
You honestly did feel better after talking to Penelope and throwing the rest of your guts up. She made sure to remind you about ten times to call her if you needed anything, you promised you would because it did make you feel better knowing that someone knew about your pregnancy and you didnât have to bear the weight of the news alone.
You sat down at your desk with a sigh, sipping on your water bottle to soothe your raw throat. You popped a piece of gum in your mouth, willing the taste of bile away. You let out a huff of air as you stared down at all the paperwork you had to do. Doing JJâs job proved to be intense, especially when you were doing your own work on top of herâs. You picked up your pen when you felt Spencer press a kiss to the crown of your head as he placed a mug of hot coffee on your desk in front of you.
You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss you softly, one of his hands resting on the side of your desk while the other rested on the back of your chair. You smiled against his lips, âshouldnât you be working?â You teased.
âAre you trying to get me to go away?â Spencer looked at you curiously. You rolled your eyes playfully because of course you didnât want him to go away. If anything, you wanted him to pick you up and take you home right this second.
âYes, Spencer,â you replied sarcastically, âIâm trying to get you to go away.â Spencer wasnât great with sarcasm but he had come to understand your humour over the years. He just grinned and pressed another kiss to your lips.
âSarcasm is rooted in truth, angel,â Spencer retorted with a gentle smile.Â
âI am joking, but we both have a lot of work to do, Spence. I donât know how Iâm going to manage doing JJâs job as well as my own,â you sighed, leaning back in your chair.
âThereâs a reason Hotch wanted you to do it. I donât think he could have picked anyone more capable,â Spencer replied. Maybe it was the hormones and the fact you were carrying a baby, but the comment made you want to cry. Spencer frowned as he watched your face fall, âwhatâs wrong, angel?â
âNo, nothing,â You replied, sniffling quietly. You gave him a genuine smile, âIâm fine, Spence. I promiseââ
âNew case just came in,â Morgan called to the two of you, gesturing toward the meeting room at the back of the office with a manila folder in his hand.Â
You looked at Morgan with a confused expression because now it was your job to decide what cases the team took after JJâs departure. Morgan told you the case went straight to Hotch this time; an old friend had called in a favour.Â
Spencer pulled a chair out for you, taking the seat right beside you in the meeting room. You opened the case file the moment Penelope dropped it in front of you.
âThe victims are 20-year-old Evan Miller and 21-year-old Daniel Clark, both engineering students at Caltech. They were shot three days apart outside their family homes in the local area of Pasadena, California.â You followed along with Penelope as she gave a run down of the victims and the circumstances of their deaths.
The killings were straightforward, the UnSub didnât try to dispose of the bodies and the men were simply shot in the head execution style. It didnât seem like the doings of a serial killer who would usually seek some kind of sexual release from torturing and killing their victims. If anything, it seemed like revenge killings.
âThey were just shot?â Emily questioned, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the crime scene photos.Â
âOnce in the head,â Hotch replied, âthere were no witnesses around which suggests the UnSub knew the routine of the victims and the neighbourhood.â
âCould be a stalker?â Penelope suggested.
âStalker victims are usually the object of a stalkerâs affection, they rarely act in violence let alone such a blunt killing,â You replied, confused by the nature of such a straightforward murder.
Spencer flicked through the victimâs files, âthe single shot to the head suggests the UnSub just wanted them dead. No physical evidence of sexual release or torture⊠This could be some kind of revenge killing.â
âDid these victims know each other?â You asked.
âAccording to their parents, they came from the same friend group,â Penelope replied.Â
âWheels up in thirty. Garcia, you're coming with us. Get your go bag,â Hotch said, quickly standing up from his chair. Penelope made a small noise of surprise before quickly ushering out of the meeting room. Hotch didnât usually have Penelope come along but given you were short a very valuable member of your team, Penelope had started coming along more often. Not that you would ever complain having Penelope around.Â
You pinned up the last of the crime scene photos on the board, standing back with your hands on your hips. Spencer was writing on the whiteboard next to you, jotting down all the things you knew about the victims and possible motives of the UnSub. Hotch and Morgan were engaging in formalities with the local detectives on the case while Penelope got herself settled in the makeshift office they had set up for the team.Â
âThe parents of the victims are here,â Emily poked her head into the office. âY/N, Hotch wants you to talk to Ben and Sarah Miller, Iâve got the Clarks.â
âAlright, I got it,â you replied, letting out a dejected sigh.Â
âYou okay?â Spencer gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear, turning his full attention to you. You let out another sigh, nodding your head tiredly. âYou can do this,â he said quietly, his eyes shifting between yours.
âYeah, I know,â you smiled softly. Spencer planted a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving the office, leaving Spencer and Penelope alone.Â
â...I think she needs a break,â Penelope said after a beat.Â
Spencer looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, âwhat makes you say that?â
Penelope tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, âsheâs doing JJâs job and her own. I mean, I think sheâs the right girl for the job but⊠you know what sheâs like.â
Spencer sighed, he knew exactly what you were like. You always held yourself and your work to such a high standard and you often overworked yourself to make everyone happy. âYeah, I know. Iâll talk to her when we get back to the hotel.â
âI think thatâs a great idea, lover boy,â Penelope grinned.
You opened the office door, files in hand. Mr and Mrs Miller immediately stood up as you entered and you gave them a sympathetic smile. Mrs Miller had clearly been crying, still clutching a tissue in her hand while her husband paced around the office.
âPlease, have a seat, Mr Miller,â you said gently.
âIâll stand,â he replied firmly. You decided not to argue and sat down on the chair opposite the couch where Mrs Miller sat.
âMrs Miller, Iâm Agent L/N, Iâm with the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the FBIââ
âFBI?â She questioned. âWas Evan in trouble?â
âWe suspect he and his friend Daniel were killed by the same person,â you explained. Mrs Miller let out a soft gasp, her hand coming to rest over her mouth.Â
âIs it alright if I ask you a few questions about Evan?â You asked. Sarah didnât say anything but she nodded her head, fresh tears forming in her eyes. âDaniel and Evan knew each other, right?â
âThey went to high school together,â Sarah replied, her voice shaking. âThey were so excited when they both got into Caltech,â she smiled sadly, fresh tears streaming down her face.
âDo you have any idea who killed our son?â Ben asked, his voice sounding angry.
âThatâs what weâre here for,â you said, âweâre here to find who killed your son and whyââ
ââWhyâ?â Ben repeated, âhe was just a kid.â
You sighed softly, âI understand that, sir. Weâre just trying to figure out a possible connection.â
âEvan and Daniel were good kids. They would never hurt a fly,â Sarah frowned, sniffling softly as she began crying again.Â
âDid Daniel and Evan hang around the same social groups?â You asked, turning your attention to Mr Miller, who was still pacing around the office with his arms crossed. âMaybe in some kind of extracurricular activities?â
âThey were both on the college basketball team,â Ben said after a beat. âWhy? You think this asshole is going to kill more of these kids?â
âI am just trying to get an idea of the social groups Evan and Daniel were a part of,â you didnât want to get into the gory details of why you were asking such questions and decided they were both far too emotional for you to keep asking them questions; you would let Hotch handle it. âI need to speak with my team but Iâll be right outside if you need anything.â You rested a hand on Mrs Millerâs shoulder and you couldnât shake how much you missed JJ doing this part.
You let out a sigh as you left the office, rubbing the tension in the back of your neck. You slowly walked over to Hotch, âEvan was on the Caltech Basketball team, he and Daniel went to high school together and Evanâs parents were adamant he was a good kid. I think he was a good kid, just got involved with the wrong people.â
Hotch let out a breath, âI want you and Prentiss to go to the school, talk to the faculty, basketball team coach, anything you can get.â
You nodded, gesturing to Emily on the other side of the bullpen. She firmly nodded at you and the two of you left for the school.
The team worked the case for two days before another body showed up. Everyone was starting early and finishing late to find the person who was doing this and you worked closely with the detectives and other officers on the case. Hotch gave the profile as soon as the team was certain but given the demographic of the suburban areas he was targeting these boys, it was rather unremarkable. The third body belonged to 21-year-old Oliver Marsh, another Caltech student studying Physics. He was shot once in the head while walking his dog no further than a block from his house.Â
You stood in the middle of Oliverâs bedroom staring at the posters and certificates that littered his walls. Spencer rifled through papers on his desk, mostly finding papers related to physics journals and essays for school. Emily and David were downstairs talking to the parents while Hotch and Morgan went to see the crime scene.
You walked over to his bedside table pulling it open. There were a lot of birthday cards and a game boy but what caught your attention was the little clear yellow bottles with white caps. You lifted the first bottle out, reading the labelâ
âOliver was taking Oxycodone,â you said softly, catching Spencerâs attention. â...And Escitalopram,â you spun on your heel, showing Spencer the two bottles. Spencer took the bottles from your hands, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully read the labels. âChronic pain?â you suggested.
âCould be,â Spencer replied. âHe could have been taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatories too, theyâre typically over the counter.â
You rifled through the drawer again, pulling out a blue box, âYeah, he was taking Ibuprofen too.â
âWe should talk to the parents,â Spencer said. You nodded and the two of you ushered down the stairs to where his parents sat in the living room with David and Emily. âWas Oliver suffering from chronic pain?â Spencer quickly questioned before he even fully made it into the living room.
Oliverâs mother held a tissue to her nose, glancing at Emily with a confused expression. You put your hand on Spencerâs bicep, âHas Oliver injured himself recently? Maybe a fall or injury while playing sports?â
Oliverâs father shook his head, âNo, not recently. Heâs been on those antidepressants for a few years and takes the codeine when he hasâ had flare-ups.â
âFlare-ups?â David asked pointedly.
âHe was in a car accident four years ago,â Mrs Marsh said, âHe was in the passenger seat and was in a coma for two weeks⊠he hadnât really been the same after that, got really sad and antisocial⊠he was in a lot of pain too.â
âHe had to stop playing Football and running track, his body just couldnât keep up,â Mr Marsh added, his eyes glazing over. âHe lost a lot of friends, I donât think I ever saw him hang out with anyone, Physics became everything to him.â
âDo you have evidence of his medical records anywhere?â Spencer asked. âJust so I can look them over.â
âUh, yeah, of course,â Mrs Marsh stood up, Spencer following her to their home office on the other side of the house.
You sat down across from Mr Marsh, âThe accident he was in,â you started, âwhat happened?â
He looked at you with a pain in his eyes, âHe was in the car with some of his friends and they were driving home from a party and it was late. I think they were allâŠâ he hesitated for a moment, âthey were all drunk.â
âWho was in the car?â Emily asked, not liking where this was going.
â...Evan Miller and Daniel Clark,â his father began to cry, holding his hand over his mouth. You felt your eyes widen, this was a revenge killing.
âWho was driving, Mr Marsh?â David asked quickly.
âUm, godââ He sniffled softly, âPeter⊠Peter something, he was older than them, I really donât remember.â
âThank you, Mr Marsh,â You stood up, quickly moving to the front door to call Penelope. You pulled out your phone, dialling her number. She picked up after the first ring.
âHow may I be of service, oh queen of my country?â she sang, her fingers typing furiously against her keyboard.Â
âI need you to look into an accident for me, four years ago,â you said with your hand on your hip. âOliver Marsh, Daniel Clark and Evan Miller were all in the accident too. See if you can find newspaper articles, news segments, anythingâ I think we know who the last target is.â
âRight, give me a moment,â Penelope replied. You heard her typing before she stopped, âOh noâŠâ she mumbled softly.
âWhatâs wrong, Pen?â You furrowed your brows.
âPeter Harvey,â Penelope sighed, âheâs the last boy⊠He was driving with three other high school boys; Oliver, Daniel and Evan when they struck an oncoming car and killed a pregnant woman on impact; her husband walked away without a scratch.â
âShit.â You cursed, âWhatâs his name?â
âJonathan Hughes, his wife was Katherine⊠she was 8 months pregnant, Y/N.â Penelope sounded so pained and you knew she was thinking of you and the small baby you were carrying. âY/NâŠâ
âI know, Pen⊠After this case wraps up⊠Iâll tell everyone,â you replied with a gentle sigh.
âAnd youâll take time off?â Penelope sounded like she was lecturing you.
You smiled to yourself, âYeah, Penelope. Iâll take some time off.â
âOkay⊠Iâll send Hotch and Morgan Jonathanâs last known address, Iâm sending you Peter Harveyâs addressââ
Your phone beeped as Penelope sent the address through. âWhere would I be without you, Pen?â
âNowhere good, my love,â you could hear the smile in her voice. You quickly hung up before walking back into the Marshâs house.Â
Emily and David turned to look at you, âWeâve got him.â
âAlright, you guys go, Iâll grab Reid and weâll be right behind you,â David waved you off and Emily quickly ushered the two of you to the car.Â
Emily was speeding toward the address Penelope had given you while you called Hotch and Morgan, filling them in on all the information Penelope had given you. They agreed to go to Jonathanâs address to hopefully intersect him before he left for Peter Harvey. You were always nervous when it came to these parts of the case because you couldnât control the outcome no matter how hard you tried. A grieving man was going around killing these young men and while it was awful what he was doing; you could sympathise with him and the pain he was feeling over losing his wife and unborn child.Â
You instinctively rested a hand over your belly, your thumb stroking the small curve. You couldnât even imagine how much pain Spencer would be in if he lost you, let alone your child too. You would tell him and you would ask Hotch about taking some time off later in your pregnancy and sitting out of cases like this.Â
âShit heâs already here,â Emily cursed when she noticed Jonathanâs SUV parked a couple of blocks from Peterâs address. âCall Hotch.â
You dialled Hotchâs number and he picked up almost instantly, âWhat is it, L/N?â
âHeâs already here, his SUV is parked a couple blocks down from Peterâs address. Heâs already out looking for him,â You quickly said.
âWeâre on our way, units are already on route,â he hung up after that.Â
Emily pulled the car up on the gutter, the car skidding to a stop. You immediately pushed the door open, holding your gun by your thigh as you ran across the lawn to Peter Harveyâs house. You knocked on the door and a woman answered after a beat.
âMrs Harvey?â You asked, panting softly.
âYes?â
âIs your son Peter here?â
âNo, he went to the store down the street an hour ago, he should be back soon⊠What is this about?â She asked, her hand gripping the door in concern.
âWe believe someone dangerous may be looking for your son,â Emily said. Mrs Harvey rested her hand over her mouth, a soft gasp leaving her lips.
âMom?â You spun around and Peter stood with a plastic bag of groceries in his hand in the middle of the lawn.
It all happened almost in slow motion. You saw a figure wearing dark clothes stalking across the lawn and without even thinking, you darted toward Peter as the UnSub pulled the gun out of his coat, aiming it straight at Peterâs head. You could hear Emily yelling at Mrs Harvey to go back inside before she pulled out her gun and aimed it at the UnSub; but it was too late.
You shoved Peter to the ground as he fired, feeling the shot burn through your shoulder as both you and Peter fell to the ground. You instinctively pressed a hand to your burning shoulder, warm blood oozing from the wound and through your fingers.Â
âJonathan Hughes?â You said, your breathing heavy as you tried to fight through the pain. He held his gun right in front of your face.
âMove,â he grunted, his eyes glassy.
âI know what happened to your wife,â you breathed trying to stall him as more police cars with blaring sirens pulled into the street.
âThey killed her,â tears streamed down his face and you honestly felt bad for him.Â
âIt was an accident,â you replied softly.
âThey were drunk,â he almost yelled, his hand shaking as his gun was still trained on you.
âI know,â you said, âIt was a stupid mistake that haunted them, Jonathan. I know it doesnât change what happened but these boysââ
âTheyâre monsters!â he shouted, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.
You saw David and Spencer get out of the car. Spencerâs heart was in his throat when he saw you kneeled on the ground, shielding Peter with your body while your hand and shirt were covered in your own blood. He didnât even pick up his gun as he began stalking toward you.
âY/N?â His voice was soft when he called you at first, then it turned to outright concern and anger, âY/N? No, no!â
David grabbed Spencerâs arm, pulling him back as Spencer fought against him, trying to get to you. It was irrational and it was dangerous. David quickly picked up his walkie, âAn agent has been shot, we need an ambulance.â
âWho was shot?!â Penelopeâs voice rang out in the car as she spoke to Morgan and Hotch.
âI repeat, agent L/N is shot, we need an ambulance,â David spoke before putting his walkie away to hold Spencer back, pulling him to the ground.
âMorgan! Oh my god!â Penelope felt tears form in her eyes.
âItâs okay, babygirl, sheâs going to be alright,â Morgan said, trying to reassure her as Hotch stepped on the accelerator.Â
âNo, Morgan, you donât understandââ
âWeâre going to get an ambulanceââ
âSheâs pregnant!â Penelope blurted out, not knowing what else to say for them to understand the gravity of why Penelope was so upset and concerned.Â
Hotch hesitated for a moment, âSheâs what?â
Penelope let out a shaky breath, âsheâs twelve weeks pregnant, Hotch. She wasnât going to tell anyone until after the caseâ and now sheâs been shot.â Penelope began to cry, holding her hand over her mouth as tears slipped from her eyes.
Hotch hadnât sped that fast since he found out Foyet was in his house. He cared about his team a lot and he had a soft spot for you even though he wouldnât admit it. The tires skidded along the road as Hotch pulled on the handbrake, both him and Morgan training their guns on the UnSub as they approached.
Morganâs heart hurt at the sight of you, your skin slightly paled as blood bloomed from your shoulder, drenching your arm and your hands. You looked so scared as the UnSub trained his gun on you, unmoving. Emily had her gun aimed at the UnSub, yelling for him to put it down.
âJonathan Hughes!â Morganâs voice caught your attention. âPut down the gun!â
âDonât move!â Jonathan shouted, âIâll shoot her!â
âNo you wonât, man,â Morgan shook his head.
âHow do you know that!? Sheâs in my way!â He shouted back.
âSheâs pregnant,â Morgan sighed. Your eyes widened as you looked at Morgan, who looked back at you with a sad expression.Â
Spencer stopped fighting against David, his breathing evening out as the words fell on his ears. You were pregnant. You were carrying his baby and you got shot and now you had a gun held up in front of your face. Spencer didnât even realise he was crying, his tears cold against his warm skin. All he could do was watch, there was nothing he could do.
Jonathan glanced at you as you held your hand over your belly. âW-What?â
Morgan reached a hand out as he got closer. âJust like your wife, Jonathan⊠You wouldnât kill a pregnant woman like those boys did.âÂ
Jonathan seemed to dissociate, staring at you with such a hurt expression as Morgan leapt forward, grabbing the gun from Jonathanâs hands and tossing it across the grass. He pushed Jonathan to the ground, pinning his hands behind his back. You let out a breath as you felt yourself grow tired. Emily caught you before you fell the rest of the way to the ground, holding you close to her body as she screamed for a medic.Â
âYouâre okay, youâre okay,â Emily gently rocked you, âyouâre going to be fine.â
âIâm sorry,â you muttered, tears running down your cheeks.
Your eyes were heavy as you attempted to pry them open.
You let out a shaky breath as you finally pulled your eyes open, the smell of disinfectant hit you first, followed by the sounds of beeping. You were in the hospital. You glanced down at your arm, an IV stuck in your arm while a pulse oximeter was clipped to your finger. Despite the fact the doctor had prescribed pain medication, you still felt like shit and your shoulder was killing you.
A soft noise caught your attention and you glanced at the chair next to your bed, Spencer sound asleep in a chair with a hospital blanket draped over him. You smiled softly as you saw the flowers, balloons and plushies littered around your room, most likely a courtesy of Penelope.
âSheâs awake,â Morgan smiled, standing in the doorway.Â
You grinned at him, âHi, Derek.â
Morgan slowly walked over to your bed. âFeeling okay, pretty girl?â Morgan gently grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.
âIâm okay,â you replied. You almost didnât want to ask but you knew you had to, â...is the baby okay?â
âYour baby is fine,â Morgan replied with a soft smile. You let out a breath of relief as you placed a hand over your tummy protectively. â...You scared the life out of everyone though.â
âI know,â you sighed.
âEspecially your lover boy,â Morgan said, âhe hasnât left your side.â
âSounds like my Spencer,â you laughed softly.Â
âY/N?â Spencerâs voice was laced with sleep as he opened his eyes. He quickly got up, ditching the blanket on the floor to tend to you.
âIâll leave you to it,â Morgan quickly said before leaving the room.
Spencerâs warm hands cupped your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, âI thought I lost you, Y/N.â He let out a breath, pulling away to stare at your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs. You reached a hand up to grip his forearm.
âIâm sorryââ
âYou donât need toââ
âIâm sorry I didnât tell you.â Tears formed in your eyes as you stared up at him, searching for any kind of anger or resentment. There wasnât any, he could never be mad at you.
âI wouldnât have let you come on the case,â he replied after a beat. âI wouldnât have let you leave the house.â
âThatâs why I didnât tell you⊠I knew you would be protectiveâ more protective,â you corrected with a soft smile.Â
âIâm aware,â Spencer pulled his lips into a tight smile. âYou know the odds of⊠complications are higher in the first trimester, angel. You should have told me,â he frowned.
âI know, Spence,â you sighed. âI just wanted to make sure I was in the clear before I told you⊠I understand being shot isnât necessarily helping with that butââ
âI understand,â he replied. âIâm just glad youâre okay.â
You stared at him for a moment, âare you happy?â
âHappy?â
âThat Iâm pregnant? I know weâre not married and our jobs are crazy butââ
Spencer cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips, he pulled away slightly, âIâve never been more happy,â he whispered.
You beamed with happiness, a bright smile tugging on your lips. Spencer hesitantly pressed a hand to your belly, his thumb stroking your tiny bump.
âPenelope thinks itâs a girl,â you muttered.
â...What do you think?â He asked curiously.
âI think she might be right,â you giggled softly.
âYou know you canât actually tell yet,â Spencer said and you rolled your eyes playfully.
âYou asked what I thought!â you retorted.
He laughed softly, âYes, youâre right, youâre right.â
âMmm, did that taste like poison to admit?â
âAre gunshot victims supposed to be this mouthy?â
a/n: phew! i hope you guys liked it <3 i know i disappeared for a hot minute but here she is!!!
summary: spencer walks in one day with a new look. you handle it pretty well.
a/n: im in the opposite of a writing slump right now (will prob fall into a writing slump right after i say this) probably because im procrastinating on essays for school and i can only write when im meant to be doing work. but tiny little fluffy spencer one shots are very good for the soul right now. i think it's my way of healing from my hotch fic
wc: 1.8k
warning(s): one slightly sexual joke from emily. all fluff
You usually donât get to the office this early, but you donât exactly have a choice. The BAUâs last couple cases have all run one after another, barely leaving you any time in the office, and now youâre paying for it.Â
Youâve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and not nearly enough time to do it allâif youâre lucky, youâll be writing reports for a few days straight. If youâre not, youâll be putting in some overtime. Â
âThis is the most focused Iâve ever seen you this early,â Derek comments.Â
You shake your head with a sigh. âThese reports are government mandated torture.âÂ
He chuckles, and he nods at Emily as she walks over to her desk. âAre you this busy?âÂ
She shakes her head. âIâve still got a report to get through, but nothing that bad.âÂ
âI get it,â you say wryly. âYouâre all more organized than me. Just donât come to me asking to go out tonightâyou know I canât say no.âÂ
âBut donât shots taste better when youâre supposed to be doing work?â Derek asks, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.Â
âNot when Iâve got this much work Iâm supposed to be doing.âÂ
You hear the elevator ding and glance upâSpencerâs walking through and fixing his tie. You look back down at your report as you greet him.Â
âHey, Spence,â you call. âWhyâre you late?âÂ
âIâm not late,â he says, and you can see him checking his watch out of your peripherals. âIâm two minutes and thirty-three seconds early.âÂ
âReally?â you muse. âI guess Iâm just so used to you being here before me.âÂ
âYou canât judge my timeliness on yours when youâve been here for an hour already,â Spencer says.Â
You frown, tapping your pen against the paper. âHow do you know?âÂ
âYouâre settled in already. Your coatâs on your chair, your stack of unfinished files is smaller than it was last time we were in the office, your coffee isnât steaming, and your mug has a chipped handleâwhen they were put away last night, that one was set in the front, so youâd have to be here early to get it.âÂ
âTouche,â you murmur. Youâre not sure why you ever ask your team of profilers how they know something.Â
âYou also look like you donât want to be here,â he comments. âThatâs pretty typical of agents who have to be here before their regular hours.âÂ
You chuckle and tilt your head in admission. You donât really want to be here, especially running on so few hours of sleep.Â
âWhy arenât you as early as usual?â Emily asks.Â
âMy neighbor knocked on my door this morning to ask me for something,â Spencer says. âIt threw off my whole routine. I picked the wrong tie, I couldnât pack my bag properly, and I had to toast my bagel for two minutes instead of three and a half to make it out in time.âÂ
âHow terrible,â Derek says with mock austerity.Â
âIt is terrible!â he exclaims. âItâs scientifically proven that a morning routine makes you happier, more energized, and ready to seize the dayâcarpe diem.â Spencer sets his bag on the floor next to his desk and looks at everyone else with a smile. âDid you know that phrase was actually coined by the Roman poet Horace in his Odes? It comes from the first book out of four in the eleventh poemâthe full phrase in Latin is carpe diem, quam miniââ
âHow was your bagel?â Emily asks to interrupt him, and he pauses.Â
âIt was good,â he says. âCouldâve been toastier.âÂ
You look up, a teasing remark on the edge of your tongue, but the words die in your throat when you actually see him.Â
Spencerâs started combing a hand through his hair to fix itâmust have been another part of his affected morning routineâhis lips set in a pout as he tries to see his reflection in his dark monitor. He always looks good, even without trying, but nowâ
âYouâre wearing glasses,â you say dumbly.Â
âMy contacts dried out,â he grumbles, still focused on his hair. âWe got home so late last night I forgot to put them in their solution, and I had no time to fix them because my neighbor messed up my whole morning.âÂ
You nod, still unable to tear your eyes away from him. âAre you gonna keep wearing them?âÂ
âI donât know. Contacts are better for cases because Iâm not worried about them falling off or fogging up, but I usually sleep on the jet on the way back, and sleeping with contacts in isnât good.â He smiles a bit as he fully turns to you, seemingly satisfied with his hair. âIt reduces the amount of oxygen that gets to your cornea, which damages the corneaâs surface and makes it harder to regenerate new cells. Sleeping with contacts actually makes you six to eight times more likely to get an eye infection.â
You nod again, your brain still not quite working at full power. You always love listening to Spencerâs fact dumpsâit gives you a lot of material to impress your non-BAU friends with on the side, and youâre eternally thankful for thatâbut right now, you seriously cannot focus.Â
Youâd never really thought about him in glasses, but thatâs probably a good thing if this is how it makes you feel.Â
You were valedictorian as an undergrad, and you received stellar feedback from your professors during your masters program. Youâre an excellent profiler, a valued member of the BAU, and youâre a goddamn FBI agent.Â
And yet you canât find a single thought in your head because your coworker showed up to work wearing glasses.Â
Heâs still rambling about other common causes of eye infection and how nobody seems to take them as seriously as they should, when Derek, not even trying to hide his grin at your turmoil, speaks up. Â
âReid. Wanna cool it a bit?âÂ
Spencerâs eyes dart over to him for a moment before he stops. âUhâ sorry.â He frowns as he looks back at you. âWhy do you ask? Do you not like them?âÂ
âNo,â you blurt out, and you shake your head a multitude of times. âNo. They look great. You look great. Theyâreââ You dig your nails hard into your palm as you try your hardest to smile like normal, and this time you nod. âTheyâre good, Spence.âÂ
âThanks.â Spencer does that little smile-nod combo of his, and he pushes his glasses back into place with his thumb by the bottom of the frames. âThatâs nice to know Iâve got another option.âÂ
You thank whatever god may be out there that Hotch and Penelope are busy in their offices and JJ is busy with some other case, because you think you would die if anyone else saw you like this.Â
âHey, Reid,â Emily says, also not doing a very good job of hiding her amusement. You hate your team sometimes. âTheyâre almost out of sugar in the breakroom. If you want coffee the way you like it this morning, you should probably get in there.âÂ
âWhat?â Spencer shoots up, his brows already furrowing into a frown. âThatâ thatâs ridiculous. I canât mess up my morning any more.âÂ
âYouâd better get in there, then,â she remarks.Â
âWeâre an entire office of agents running on coffee,â Spencer complains as he starts walking. âHow are we almost out of sugar?âÂ
âBecause half of âem drink it black,â Derek says, and Spencer shakes his head with a sigh as he leaves.Â
âThatâs ridiculous.âÂ
You bury your head in your hands the moment heâs gone and Derek laughs. âI wish I couldâve gotten that on video.âÂ
âDonât talk to me,â you groan. âIt is not fair of him to walk in like that.âÂ
âAnd that is why I call him pretty boy.â
âHe needs them to see,â Emily says with amusement as she leans against the side of your desk. âYou just canât control yourself.âÂ
âI need to transfer offices,â you say, shaking your head. âI canât do this.âÂ
âYou should ask him out!â Derek encourages. âHeâd probably say yes.âÂ
âAbsolutely not,â you insist. âI doubt he likes me like that. Aâ and even if he does, thatâs the last thing either of us need right now.âÂ
âI donât know,â Emily muses. âIt looks like you clearly need something.âÂ
You let out a frustrated noise as you screw your eyes shut. âIâm doomed.âÂ
You hear Spencer say your name, and when you look over at him, one hand still pressed against your head, you see heâs got two cups of coffee in his hands. âAre you okay?âÂ
âYeah,â you say weakly. âIâm great. Why?âÂ
âI got you one too,â he says, holding one of the mugs out to you. âThe one you have is probably cold by now, and it looks like you need an extra kick to get through all those reports.âÂ
âThanks, Spence. Thatâs sweet.â He nods as you take the proffered mug, and you swear your cheeks are as warm as the coffee. He is really testing your strength today.Â
âYouâ you have a lot,â he says, and you huff a dry laugh and nod. âIâm not trying to be sarcastic. I could take half of them if you want?âÂ
Your grip tightens on the mug and you can feel Derekâs eyes on you. âI couldnât make you do that, Spence.âÂ
âYouâre not!â Spencer exclaims. âI can get through mine really quicklyâwe worked together for almost the whole last case so I can do all of that anyways.âÂ
â...Youâre sure it wouldnât be an imposition?âÂ
âIâm sure,â he nods. âBesides, I offered. I wouldnât if I didnât want to.âÂ
And god damn him, because he nudges his glasses back into place again, pushes a strand of loose hair back into place. Youâre dying over here.Â
You set the mug of coffee on your desk and pick up the top half of your pile. âAll yours, Spence.âÂ
He takes the bottom half and smiles at you, and you smile back before he walks back to his desk. You are dying over here.Â
âLet me know how I can pay you back,â you say, and he shakes his head.Â
âYou donât need to pay me back.âÂ
âReally?âÂ
Spencer nods. âI mean, Morgan invited us all out on the jet last night, and I donât think I can do it alone. If you can get out of the office in time, I donât have to. I think that's enough of a payback.âÂ
âYeah,â you say. âIâll be there.âÂ
He smiles again and nods, then he picks up a pen and focuses in. You turn back to your desk, your face burning.Â
âWhat was that about him not liking you like that?â Derek says.Â
âQuiet!â you whisper-yell, swatting him with the pile of files in your hand. âHe might hear you!âÂ
âHeâs not hearing anything while heâs focused on that,â he says. âThat just means you can ogle him more.âÂ
You groan again, letting your forehead fall into your palm. âIâm pathetic.âÂ
âI think youâre right.â Emily chuckles as she stands up. âYou are doomed.âÂ
hi yall hahah i feel like ive been gone for so long hope everyones doing well hehehe life got in the way of my writing and this "new" job has been so stressful its hard to think about anything else but! imma try to get back into writing soon
*repost* here's a sneak peak from my sub-ish!spencer x reader smut fic that i'm still working on. hope y'all enjoy this lil appetizer :] 18+ mdni [:
reposting bc i think tumblr like...hid the post from everyone?
The hum of your eagerness, wet heat of your mouth, and the pressure of your tongue consuming his sensitive balls has Spencer twitching and lurching his hips, pushing his cock further into your hands that had slowed down due to rounder distractions.
He cries out, your name spilling from his lips- chanting for you like an incantation, praying to you for more. Heâs lost even more of his strength, crumbling his body weight onto his forearms as his hands pull at the sheets.
Spencerâs still trying to look at you, though, craning his neck to watch your eyes close in pleasure as your head nudges against him. Your nose grazes the base of his dripping cock when you nuzzle your head into his crotch, a mixture of your saliva and his precum paints the tip of your nose. While your hands continue to pump languidly, one of your thumbs presses into his slit and under the head of his dick as your tongue circles his balls. He's a thrashing, mumbling, whimpering, pathetic mess- and you love it. It encourages you to increase your massaging and sucking.
"Such a good boy," you whisper devilishly against his skin, reveling in the way he rolls his head back with a particularly loud whine and a telling, involuntary thrust of his hips.
The sensations are almost too much, soon even Spencerâs legs begin to twitch and thrash. You could read his body better than he could read War and Peace in itâs original language, so you pull away from him with a grin and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth.Â
However, if Spencer thought you were going to grace him with reprieve, he was sorely mistaken.
comment, reblog, like! :D follow to stay updated on the release of the finished piece :P
sneak peak alert!! here's one for my dom!spencer x reader smut fic. its still a wip, so hopefully this tides y'all over some. enjoy! 18+ mdni
(pay no mind to how ooc this is teehee)
âWatch.â Spencer hisses, shoving your head back to its original position. Uncontrollably, a faint whimper rips from your throat. You wordlessly do as youâre told, training your eyes on the man on the screen in front of you fucking his partnerâs throat, her eyes watering and rolling back until all you can see are the whites. âCâmon, baby. Tell me what you like.â As your perched in his lap, Spencerâs voice is sickly sweet now mumbling against your arm, nipping it lightly. His left hand is under your shirt, fingertips barely playing with your hardened and sensitive nipples. His right hand is still on your back, moving between scratching your skin and teasing the waistbands of your shorts and panties. Heâs driving you crazy.
The urge to close your eyes is hard to fight off, but you try your hardest. âIâŠâ Youâre breathless, despite not having even done anything yet, âI like how heâs controlling her,â you gulp as Spencer begins to roll one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, âa-and using her.â
âThatâs what you want, hmm.â Itâs not a question, so much as an observation. âYou want me to use you like a toy?â Spencer leans in to mouth against your ear, âWant me to fuck your throat âtil you canât even speak?â Where did he learn to talk like this? Who is this man?
You know itâs not rhetorical. Heâs waiting for an answer as his deep breaths whip strands of your hair around. He dips his head to press kisses onto the back of your neck. Your hands dig into his plush thigh as much as is allowed by the cloth of his pants stretched tight. âYes,â you breathe out. Even to yourself it sound desperate.
âOh, my dirty girl.â He drawls, roughly cupping your tit and kneading it as he wishes. âYou want my cock, donât you? Just wanna shove it down your throat?â
His words have your stomach turning cartwheels, and you moan at just the thought of his dick in your mouth. Youâve never yearned for anything so intensely, craved something so intrinsically. Nodding emphatically, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth.Â
This was going to be a long night, but you wouldn't want anything less.
comment, reblog, like! :D follow to stay updated on the release of the finished piece :P
here's a sneak peak from my sub-ish!spencer x reader smut fic that i'm still working on. hope y'all enjoy this lil appetizer :] 18+ mdni [:
The hum of your eagerness, wet heat of your mouth, and the pressure of your tongue consuming his sensitive balls has Spencer twitching and lurching his hips, pushing his cock further into your hands that had slowed down due to rounder distractions.
He cries out, your name spilling from his lips- chanting for you like an incantation, praying to you for more. Heâs lost even more of his strength, crumbling his body weight onto his forearms as his hands pull at the sheets.
Spencerâs still trying to look at you, though, craning his neck to watch your eyes close in pleasure as your head nudges against him. Your nose grazes the base of his dripping cock when you nuzzle your head into his crotch, a mixture of your saliva and his precum paints the tip of your nose. While your hands continue to pump languidly, one of your thumbs presses into his slit and under the head of his dick as your tongue circles his balls. He's a thrashing, mumbling, whimpering, pathetic mess- and you love it. It encourages you to increase your massaging and sucking.
"Such a good boy," you whisper devilishly against his skin, reveling in the way he rolls his head back with a particularly loud whine and a telling, involuntary thrust of his hips.
The sensations are almost too much, soon even Spencerâs legs begin to twitch and thrash. You could read his body better than he could read War and Peace in itâs original language, so you pull away from him with a grin and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth.Â
However, if Spencer thought you were going to grace him with reprieve, he was sorely mistaken.
comment, reblog, like! :D follow to stay updated on the release of the finished piece :P
writing this dom!spencer fic* is proving more difficult than anticipated...it's feeling quite ooc but imma continue to push through for y'all!! however...been mulling over a quick sorta-sub!spencer piece i think i want to write out quickly :P so keep your eyes peeled if you're into that
(*also sorry for not having it out yet, i keep coming home from work absolutely exhausted hahahaha)