she/her | 19
924 posts
Cool-human-74 - Tumblr Blog
Books, tea and rainy days. This is all I want in life.
My toxic trait is thinking I would have had a chance with him back in the 2000s (Idc I was like 2 years old in 2007)
#
Hello 🤍 can i request BAU!reader and Spencer getting caught making out at the office? hahahah
spencer reid x fem!bau!reader
warnings: making out obviously
a/n: this was so much fun to write loll thanks for sending it !!
A kiss. And another one. And another one.
“Spencer…” You laughed as he kissed your cheeks. “Stop.”
“Why?” He murmured between kisses.
“What do you mean why? We’re in the conference room. Someone could walk in.”
“No one’s going to come in, the chances are low.” Another kiss.
“But there is a chance.” You laughed.
“Sure, it’s always possible for a phenomenon to occur under certain random circumstances,” he said after giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “But most of them aren’t even present, so the risk is low.” Another kiss.
“But there is a risk.”
He stopped kissing you to look at you with a mock disapproving face. “No.”
“Don’t give me that look, you know it’s true.”
“You’re challenging my knowledge of probability.”
“You know what beats your knowledge of probability?” You asked him.
“Light me up.” He gave you a kiss on your earlobe.
“How nosy everyone is around here. Morgan could show up at any moment and won’t leave us alone for months.”
“Is that so bad?” He asked with a smirk and kissed your jawline.
“Yes!” You answered indignantly.
“What could be worse?” He pressed his lips to yours.
Honestly, you gave up the battle and decided to surrender. It wasn’t like you were going to hold out much longer anyway.
He placed his hands on your thighs and in one swift motion, lifted you onto the desk, positioning himself between them. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands getting lost in his freshly cut hair. One of his hands held your neck firmly, the other resting on your waist.
You were completely lost, and how could you not be? He was stunning.
You let out a small moan when he bit your lip.
Someone cleared their throat behind Spencer.
You felt your heart drop, and by instinct, you pushed Spencer away from you.
“Hey! Violence wasn’t necessary,” he complained.
“Nor was unprofessional behavior during work hours,” Hotch said to both of you.
You felt like you were going to die. It was the most likely outcome.
“My office. Now.” He said firmly as he left the room.
You exhaled all the air you didn’t realize you had been holding in your chest.
“You know..? That is definitely worse.” He pressed his lips into an uncomfortable line.
“Really? No kidding?” You replied sarcastically, giving him a look.
He chuckled a bit.
You gave him a playful shove on the chest. “If I get fired, you’ll never see me again in your life,” you said as you walked out of the room.
“Blah blah blah.”
“What was that?” You turned around.
“Nothing.” He gave you a wide, sarcastic grin.
You rolled your eyes and smiled on your way to your boss’ office.
It was worth ending up there.
Out of Sunshine
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Having forgotten your dinner date, Spencer comforts his usually sunshine girlfriend Trope:Fluff & Comfort w.c: 1.2k a/n: been very overwhelmed with responsibilities and wants lately that I just needed to write a self-indulgent fic. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist
Spencer’s knock on your apartment door was met with silence. It was a starry Friday night and he had arranged a dinner reservation with you, his girlfriend for a year and a half, to the newly opened French restaurant along the main street. With a certain spring in his step, he settled with Hotch, and by extension the team, that he couldn’t be disturbed unless an emergency case comes in—something he silently wished not to happen. He had also picked up a bouquet of your favorites from the local florist. An array of whites that reminded him of the dress he first saw you wearing at the park.
He knocked again, ears straining to hear anything behind the dark wooden door. There was nothing. He balanced the bouquet on one hand and reached for the phone inside his satchel. It was quite unlike you to not answer the door.
The number you dialed is either unattended—
“Strange,” he muttered under his breath. During his morning phone call with you, a much needed routine to tide him through the macabre of his job, you sounded so excited about the dinner he’d planned and had even promised to wear the same white dress that had plagued his eidetic memory. He chuckled in reply before asking any plans for the day. There was a slight pause on your end, no doubt thinking of ways to pass time before night winds down, and you answer—
The studio, he remembered. You mentioned passing by your art studio to occupy time. He sighed in relief as he enters his vintage blue car parked on the the sidewalk, bouquet placed securely on the passenger seat. The clock on the dashboard tells him there’s still time to make it to the reservation, granted he wasn’t sure if you were ready to go.
A non-descriptive tune played from the radio as he turned left to enter the designated parking space of your studio building. It was a mixture of soft piano keys that sounded like spring and sunshine, both adjectives he loved to use to describe you.
When he finally found the courage to fumble his way in asking for your number, the smile that flashed on your face was blinding. It was as if he stared directly into the sun with little to no protection for his vision.
Over the course of multiple dates, he found himself waxing prose about you in his head. The pinking of your cheeks reminded him of strawberries ripening, so tempting to touch with his own pair of lips. The twinkle in your eyes, full of adoration and trust, made him feel strong and protective—like he was some kind of crow guarding his loot of sparkling treasure. And the bounce in your step wherever you’d go had him envisioning a sprig of wildflowers growing from each footprint, the nymph of his very own Spring.
He let himself in the studio, grateful you’ve trusted him with a spare key. “Sunshine,” he called out.
The light inside the four cornered room was on, windows all open for the paint fumes to escape, and there you were, hunched over an easel, furiously painting without any care of your surroundings.
He called your name, softer this time, as if to slowly ease you out of the artistic trance. The timber of his voice and his sudden presence led you to squeak in surprise, paintbrush dropping on the wooden streaked floor.
“It’s me, sunshine,” he raised his hands in front of him in surrender. “It’s me.”
Your nose scrunched up in question, a streak of blue dried paint on your cheek, adorable. How adorable you were in his eyes.
“What are you doing here?” you bent down to grab the brush before resuming your old position.
“It’s 7:50, love.”
You swiveled to face him, eyes wide in distress. Hands promptly reaching to turn over the faced down phone. “No, no—oh my god, I am so sorry!”
“It’s alright,” he tries to placate you but his words of comfort seem to fall on deaf ears. “Really, it’s alright. It happens to everyone.”
Tears were starting to build up in your eyes. Your hands were wrangling with the apron tied around your waist as you mutter a series of apologies again and again. “I’m sorry. So sorry—we can’t make it to our reservation now, can’t we? Spence, I’m so so sorry. I—I forgot,” a sob escaped from your throat. “I don’t know what to do.”
He puts down the flowers on the nearest available space, your stool, and steps into your space. Filling it with his perfume and warmth meant to comfort you. He could see how distressed you were—rocking on your heels, hands unable to stay put, and lower lip sandwiched in between your pearly teeth.
“Breathe. It’s completely fine, love. No harm done. Really, it’s alright.”
The tears come rushing down, staining your flushed cheeks with its tracks. “It’s not—how could I forget?”
“Sunshine, it’s okay. It happens to all of us and I know you’re quite busy, it’s understandable.”
You burrow into his chest some more, afraid of separating from him and the haven he brings.
He continued on. “I also know you’re overwhelmed, the exhibit is just around the corner and I know how important it is to you, I understand.”
Laying your cheek near his beating heart, you mutter a reply. “It’s really not—I don’t want you to think you’re not important to me too.”
His hands cupped your face to stare into your saddened eyes. Spencer couldn’t see the warmth and brightness that was always present in his sunshine. There was a cloud of rain and doubt covering its’ greatness. He understood no one could always be happy all the time but it bothered him to see you breaking down from stress.
“Shouldn’t I be the one worried about that?” he lightly joked. “I’ve cancelled on dates so many times and did those ever make you feel less important to me?”
“No. Never,” you sniffled.
“Then what makes you say I’d think that, sunshine? I would never, I promise.”
The corners of your lips lifted up to a small smile. There it was, the rays of sun peeking behind the clouds, bringing warmth back to the dark crevices of his being.
“I’m sorry about your shirt,” your lower lip jutting out in a pout. The air of anxiety slowly dissipating around you.
Spencer laughed, noting the tear stained marks littered on his purple button down. “That’s alright. Why don’t we order from your favorite Indian place down the block? We can get your favorites and have our dinner date here instead?”
“You’d be okay with that?”
He leaned in to kiss your temples, taking in the twinkle back in your eyes framed by your wet long lashes and the flush on your cheeks from emotion—good and bad.
For Spencer, you had never looked more beautiful. The reason behind of your breakdown was raw, intimate, and it made him see you in a new light. Heat bloomed in his chest, like a series of red roses, filled with love for you.
“Anywhere with you is good for me, sunshine.”
Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!
Flower details
@bleakandhollow
do you guys wanna see the most perfectest png of my cat
❝ NSFW ALPHABET ❞
MASTERLIST!
pairing . . . jacaerys velaryon x reader
◦∘｡ﾟ. warnings . . . MINORS DNI! lewd language, smut (breeding kink, creampie (?), lactation kink, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), worshipping).
◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . jacaerys' behaviour in the bedroom.
◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . i am so so so happy to be writing for hotd again, i’m enjoying season 2 so much and i can’t wait for it to be sunday tbh. i haven’t written smut in YEARS (literally) so if this is bad it’s because i am quite rusty😔 requests are open (for aemond & jacaerys)!
[ word count: 2,2k ]
A — AFTERCARE . . . what they're like after sex!
Jacaerys was raised to be a proper prince, and with that, he learned how to respect women. He’s so gentle, drawing a bath himself and making sure you feel at comfort. Anything you need he will make sure you have. When you’re both back in bed, he cuddles you and falls asleep whispering sweet nothings.
B — BODY PART . . . their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's!
THEIRS . . . He loves his hands, mostly because you love them. Loves to use them to hold you incredibly close, to cup your cheeks when he leans in for a kiss, or just loves them when you take his hand and proudly walk alongside him, hand in hand.
YOURS . . . He loves your tummy. Loves peppering kisses on it, resting his head and falling asleep soundly while you run your hands through his hair. If you ever get pregnant it will be a hassle to get him off you and your tummy.
C — CUM . . . anything to do with cum, basically!
Even if he didn’t have a duty to get you pregnant, he would still be cumming inside you. It’s quite the primal urge he has to make sure everyone knows you’re his. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he will not cum anywhere else but inside you. If he sees his cum dripping out of you, he will push it back into you either with his fingers or simply with his cock.
D — DIRTY SECRET . . . pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs!
Jacaerys is quite comfortable in being the giver of the relationship, but sometimes he fantasies about you taking over in the bedroom. To be the one crying from overstimulation, to have you take care of him.
E — EXPERIENCE . . . how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?
He was one of the few men to save themselves for marriage, though not because of purity but more so because he never felt the urge to go to a brothel and have his first sexual experience be with a whore. Despite this, he does know what he’s doing. He had a talk with Daemon one time many moons ago, and because of it he’s gained some knowledge. But he only learns the true meaning of pleasure with you.
F — FAVOURITE POSITION . . . this goes without saying!
Cowgirl. As previously stated, he loves the idea of you dominating him and while that isn't quite it, you on top makes him lose his mind. He also knows how much you enjoy the position, with him hitting you just right, as you once put it. With you controlling the pace and how much you take in, Jacaerys can perfectly take in the beautiful sight of your blissed-out face.
G — GOOFY . . . are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.
When he’s in the bedroom he’s quite focused on making sure you’re okay and feel good, so there is no time to be humorous. Still, things happen and a giggle or two slip out when he’s going at it too hard and bumps your head against the bed frame, or when you're both desperate and trip over your clothes. Jacaerys doesn't necessarily try to make your intimate moments funny, but he doesn't stop it if it happens.
H — HAIR . . . how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.
Before you he didn’t really care about grooming, but the days prior to your wedding night he decided to look his best. You have never asked him to groom himself, but he feels as though he has to. He knows how much you take care of yourself, why wouldn’t he do the same? As for the carpet matching the drapes they do. It’s a deep brown and slightly curly, just like the hair on his head.
I — INTIMACY . . . how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.
Jacaerys is very romantic. He’s tender and sweet from beginning to the end, mostly because he’s madly in love with you, but also because he wants to take his time with you. He’s a big fan of eye contact, handholding, and kissing. Any opportunity he has where he can feel more connected to you, he will take it. Confessions of love and adoration are not rare, an “I love you” slipping from his lips when he’s thrusting inside you, or the looks he gives you that make you feel what he’s feeling. You don’t have just sex, you make love.
J — JACK OFF . . . masturbation headcanon!
He doesn’t often masturbate, only in situations when he’s away from you and misses you dearly. Truly, he gets needy. Usually, he waits until he’s back home with you and releases all that pent up tension onto you. But sometimes, when he longs for you and can’t have you, he resorts to his hand. It doesn't measure up to what your touch feels like, at all, but it does the job to at least quell some of the fire burning up inside him.
K — KINK . . .one or more of their kinks!
As previously mentioned this man wants you pregnant so bad. His breeding kink is very obvious to you, from the way he whispers in your ear how much he wants to see you pregnant, to see his seed take and make you swell with his baby, you want it as much as him, and that just makes him more feral. The Velaryon Prince loves feeling needed, which is why edging is one of his favourite ways to make you crave him as much as he craves you. Your desperate pleas to come fall to deaf ears, as he enjoys your whining and writhing just as much as the sight of you orgasming.
L — LOCATION . . . favourite places to do the deed!
Always somewhere private. Jacaerys is not much of an exhibitionist, although he likes people knowing you’re his, he also doesn’t want anyone else to be able to see you in a compromising position. That sight is sacred, reserved only to him only. As for a specific place, he thoroughly enjoys having sex in your bed. Maybe it's because of how intimate it is or that he knows there’s no way you'll be uncomfortable, but that is his preferred place.
M — MOTIVATION . . . what turns them on, gets them going!
Anything that you do is enough. Sometimes he fears how much power you have over him, how he’s so enamoured and almost obsessed with you. He gets turned on pretty easily when he’s around you, it doesn't take more than you speaking at him in your sweet, honeyed voice for him to be hard.
N — NO . . . something they wouldn't do, turn offs!
Any type of experience where he has to share you with someone. No to threesome, no to exhibitionsim, and no to cuckolding. He also does not like seeing you get hurt, if he even suspects you’re not liking something he’ll stop until you’re comfortable.
O — ORAL . . . preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.
Jacaerys doesn’t dislike the feeling of your mouth on his cock, but he much prefers the feeling of his mouth on your pussy. He eats you out like it’s his last meal, holding your hips down and feasting on the taste of you. He loves overstimulating you until you’re trying to push his head away, the pleasure too much. Loves how you push him back towards your pussy, grabbing a handful of his hair to make him continue his ministrations when he separates himself from you to breathe some air. Sometimes you fear he will suffocate between your thighs, when he doesn't come back up for air in a while, and what a sweet death that’d be to him.
P — PACE . . . are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.
His pace is usually slow and sensual. He worships you, taking his time to appreciate all your sounds and the faces you make, forever burned in his memory. He loves showing you just how much he loves you, making you feel his adoration for you. Still, Jacaerys has moments where he can be rough, lost in the pleasure he frantically fucks into you. He rarely loses control, but when he does you’re both left a beautiful, sweaty mess.
Q — QUICKIE . . . their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.
Not the biggest fan of them. He likes to take his time, savouring those intimate moments so quickies are not something he would choose to partake in. If he’s really needy, he will consider the idea, but usually what starts as a quickie, ends in a long sexual endeavour.
R — RISK . . . are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.
He’s pretty open to any ideas you might have, as long as they don’t involve sharing or hurting you in any way. He doesn't mind taking risks, but he’s pretty comfortable with the things you already do and will not be the one to propose different ways to spice things up, he leaves that to you.
S — STAMINA . . . how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?
He can last a few, it all depends on what you're doing. Three rounds is the sweet spot for him. He eats you out, he fucks you and then fucks you once more to make sure his cum really takes. If you just want to make love, have one simple round where you’re both connected, then he’ll give it to you. But this man is insatiable, so it rarely ends in one round for him.
T — TOYS . . . do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?
Neither of you really need them, you both consider the other enough. If you ever wanted to introduce toys in the bedroom, then Jacaerys is open to the idea. Maybe one day you’ll experiment, but for now the Prince has plenty of skill that will make you forget about any toys.
U — UNFAIR . . . how much they like to tease!
He loves teasing you. He makes you yearn for his touch, adoring the pout you give him and how glassy your eyes get when teasing you. Jacaerys slicks himself along your entrance, bumping against your clit which in turn makes you squirm and whine, and he takes his time until you’re almost sobbing for him to insert himself in you. He’s the worst in public, grabbing you by your waist and telling you how badly he wishes to be in bed with you, only to leave you to go speak to some lord. He watches your agape mouth as you look at him, and all he does is smirk because he knows how wet you’ll be when he finally has you alone.
V — VOLUME . . . how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.
Jacaerys is incredibly vocal. He groans when he finally sheathes himself inside you, moaning when you’re on top of him bouncing up and down without mercy. He’s not shy in telling you how good you're making him feel. He wishes he could speak more to you, but he becomes an incoherent mess pretty quickly and all you can understand are the few mumbles of “Need you” or “So good”, lewdly whining when you clench around him. A drawn out “Fuck” leaves his lips when he comes, squeezing your hips and almost shaking in relief when he feels his spend painting your gummy walls.
W — WILD CARD . . . a random headcanon for the character!
Wants to fuck you while pregnant and see the milk from your tits dripping, to taste the sweet nectar your body produces. He dreams of how round your belly will be, and how ethereal you’ll look with the glow of motherhood.
X — X-RAY . . . let's see what's going on under those clothes!
He’s around 15 cm or 6 inches. He’s quite girthy, with a heavy ball sack. He has some prominent veins which you can feel when he’s thrusting in you, the ridges making you sigh in pleasure.
Y — YEARNING . . . how high is their sex drive?
Jacaerys has a high sex drive, better make the most of it while he’s young. He can control himself, he has great restraint because he knows the wait will just make it all the more sweeter. You can tell quite well when he’s yearning for you, sometimes all it takes is a good look at him and other times he’ll simply groan into your ear how badly he needs you. You guys have sex pretty much every day, with a few exceptions when you're sore or simply not in the mood.
Z — ZZZ . . . how quickly they fall asleep after sex!
When you fall asleep, he falls asleep. He has great stamina but sometimes when he tires the both of you out, he can’t help but fall asleep almost instantly after he spends his load inside you. Adores cuddling you, makes sleeping for him easier and rids him of any bad dreams. He holds you close, drifting off to the sound of your slow breathing and the heat of your body against his.
you guys don’t understand.
𝜗𝜚 Cradle Song.
Spencer Reid x Pregnant!reader
Summary: The situation is complicated when Spencer is trapped in a lab with anthrax and worried about communicating with you and his future child one last time.
Words: 2,4k.
TW: mentions of death, therapy. spoilers for s4 e24 ("amplification"). anthrax. established relationship. angst with a open ending. implication that the baby is a girl. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: I've seen a lot of sad videos of Spencer with kids, so I had to do this to calm my brain. It's dramatic, but if you've read me before, you know how I am (an extra dramatic and a little cruel girl).
Update: I wrote this after posting my first two one shots here (several months ago), and now I just found the uncorrected text and decided to improve it for posting lol for you to mentally decide if it's a happy or sad ending, because I could never write one that I really liked.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
Your phone rang somewhere in the room, but you had no idea where. In the distance, you could hear the classical symphony by Johannes Brahms that your boyfriend had chosen especially for you, with the excuse that it would calm you and the baby every time it played.
Unfortunately, this time it wasn't helping to calm you down.
After tossing and turning around the room several times, you sat up in bed, completely exhausted and hopeless. That's when you felt the noise nearby and realized that the phone under your pillow was vibrating nonstop. You were about to snort with stress from being so distracted lately, but an automatic smile appeared on your face when you saw that it was a call from Spencer. You hadn't heard from him in several hours, the last being his usual call to wish you a good morning every time he was away on a case.
“I think I'd lose my head if I didn't have it attached to my neck.” Was the first thing you said as you tried to tuck your pillow behind your neck to make yourself more comfortable.
“You've lost your phone again.” You heard him let out a small, weak laugh, followed by a cough that caught your attention and made you frown. “Sorry, I got stuck.” He quickly excused himself.
“Are you okay?”
In response to your question, he looked around the lab where he was confined, focusing on the broken vial of anthrax on the floor that had caused all his problems so far. Reid didn't know how to explain that an ordinary case had turned into a national problem that was taking over his life and future moments with you with every passing second.
And he certainly knew even less how to tell you that this would probably be the last time you would hear from him if the team didn't find a cure soon.
“I'm fine.” He lied immediately, feeling his breathing getting harder and harder. “Really, love.” He tried to reassure you, but he lost his balance and leaned heavily on the counter, his free hand gripping it hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
All you had to do was hear him call you that and your whole world would light up, you could even feel the baby in your belly kicking at the sound of his voice. You smiled as you realized that you were both happy to hear from Spencer after not seeing him for most of the day due to the demands of his job.
Although you've never said it out loud for fear of making him feel guilty, you miss him excessively, and you're always trying to multitask and be productive, so you don't think as much about how much you need him by your side. Especially when dinner time comes and his seat next to you is empty, or when night comes and his side of the bed is cold.
Perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones, but you seemed to have a stronger need for him than ever.
“And how did you feel today? How are my girls? Did she kick a lot today?” The usual questions he asked you every time he was on a long case began to appear. “I need to hear everything.”
“She just kicks a lot when she listens to you and you know it.” You replied, stroking your belly out of laziness. “She’s definitely a daddy's little princess.”
The lump in his throat and all of his fears became more intense and uncontrollable. The tears he had tried to keep from escaping to stay strong and focused began to flow unchecked down his cheeks. Hearing you talk like that, knowing it might be the last time, was killing him much faster than the anthrax itself.
“And what are you doing? All your agent stuff?” You spoke again at his silence, trying to ignore the bad feeling something was giving you. “Are you coming home soon?”
“I don't think that's possible, love.” He replied quickly, his voice hoarse and raspy, the lie slipping from his lips almost too easily. “I'm doing some paperwork, it'll take some time.”
It was the second time he had called you by that nickname in just a few minutes. Something seemed a little off, as he only used it when he wanted to calm you down. You knew him too well to miss it.
“Oh, okay.” You said it in a way that showed you were a little disappointed.
Spencer was about to try to comfort you when he suddenly felt the cough return to his throat and he put a hand over his mouth to stop it. It was no use, the cough shook his whole body, spinning him around and making him pant in between. He tried to cover the phone with his hand so that the sounds coming out of his mouth would not be heard, but it was useless. The hacking cough seemed to tear at his lungs, leaving him breathless, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, and he could only hope you didn't hear it, because the last thing he wanted to do was worry you. He knew it would hurt you and the baby.
“Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should drink some water. It sounds pretty bad.”
He tried to answer you right away, but the cough took over and prevented him from speaking. He gripped the phone tightly, struggling to breathe, trying to force his lungs to stop spasming. And when he finally stopped coughing, he managed to speak, his voice cracking and rather hoarse.
“Yes, I'm fine. It's probably just a cold.” He lied again, breathing shakily. “But it’s nothing so bad.”
“Take care of yourself, don't let it get worse.”
If only you knew that there was no way to make it worse, that it was already at its worst point and unlikely to improve.
“I will, don't worry.” He tries to sound convincing, but his voice comes out rough and raw, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from coughing again. “Just focus on you and the baby, okay? I'll be fine.”
He spoke again so quickly that it was difficult to think of an appropriate response.
“Could you do something for me, love?”
“Of course, I'll do whatever you need.” You reply, feeling a little perplexed by the urgency in his voice.
There was a long, awkward silence after you answered, and you could feel your mind racing with worst-case scenarios. You had a feeling that Spencer was holding something back from you, and the thought of what it could be made your left leg start to twitch nervously. You didn't even bother trying to make yourself more comfortable in bed.
“Go to my part of the closet, to the top drawer. Open it and take out a box next to the socks.” Finally he spoke and began to give you instructions, which you followed as best you could. “Let me know when you have it, carefully. Don't rush or-”
“I've already got it.” You interjected.
“That was quick.” You heard the surprise in his voice as you looked at the box, curious to know what was inside, after having seen it several times and thinking it was just more socks.
You smiled before speaking again. “What should I do with this, love?”
The mere word coming out of your mouth made him tremble.
Love. Love. Love.
He was your love and you were his. He refused to accept that this would be completely shattered in a matter of minutes if he could not find a way to keep his eyes open and his heart still pumping blood.
“I need you to open it, but be careful. Take your time and don't rush. Don't make any sudden movements.” He said, trying to relax so that when he spoke again his voice would be calmer, softer. “And once you open it, I want you to imagine that I'm there with you, okay?”
You couldn't help but open the box quickly, even though you were careful. You were surprised to find a bunch of envelopes and papers inside. You left them on the bed, wondering what they were about. It had been five months since you knew you were pregnant, and all the envelopes and papers were the same age according to the dates in the top corner.
“Have you seen it yet?” Spencer asked.
“I'm sorry, I don't understand, could you explain what this is?” You asked, carefully running your hand through the neatly organized papers on the bed.
“Could you close your eyes and imagine I'm with you, like I told you before?” He asked, trying to keep a neutral tone as you complied with his request.
He needed you to see him there with you, he needed to say goodbye and at least touch you one last time.
“That's what I'm doing. I'm holding your hand right now.” You said with a small smile, feeling the warmth.
It was like feeling an automatic medicine with your name on it flow through his system and relieve a few aches and pains. His hands stopped shaking automatically as he imagined himself holding yours again.
“Okay…they are notes and letters.” His voice was soft, the intensity of his heartbeat gradually increasing as he remembered each time he wrote those words to you. “I started writing them when we found out you were pregnant. They're for our baby.”
He still remembered the day he found out you were expecting a baby, his baby. He recalled how he felt his whole world stop and turn a different color, his hand sliding down to your stomach, and his breath hitching in his chest as he held your face in his hands and kissed you lovingly, overwhelmed with joy and so in love that he hadn't known what to do with his own feelings.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I...I found myself writing frequently and my therapist said it was fine…I was inspired to write about my feelings for you and our baby."
From the moment he revealed to you that he had resumed therapy with the goal of healing the wounds of childhood and becoming the father he never had, it was clear that his dedication surpassed any commitment. Now you just added to the list of reasons why he was already an exemplary father, one that any child would be lucky to have.
“Spencer, this is so sweet.” You said, completely moved and on the verge of tears, as you noticed all the dedication I had put into each and every piece of paper. “Why didn't you tell me this before?”
He felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on him at that moment. It was so hard to explain, to tell you that every thought and every dream he'd ever had included you and the baby now growing in your belly, and his great fear of not being able to be there for you someday.
“I-” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I just wanted you to know now how much you mean to me and how blessed I am that you gave this to me. I've spent the last few months trying to even talk to some kind of God, and I don't even know if exist...” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, the words lost somewhere in his throat, making it burn and hurt. “I just...I need the baby to know what you and her mean to me, how I see you, how I feel when I wake up next to you. What I want, what I dream for her, what...”
I want to marry you.
The thought almost escaped his lips, his aching heart pounding hard against his aching chest. He felt as if a pair of strong hands were strangling him.
“I don't understand...Tell me what's going on.” You interrupted him with a shaking voice, knowing that there was definitely something more to all of this.
Oh, how you know him and his big, messy, troubled brain.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, though you couldn't see it, knowing that you already read him like an open book.
“Nothing...Nothing's wrong, love, just...” He tried to breathe deeply through the phone, his heart pounding in his chest and his mind racing too fast. “I love you so much. Don't forget that, okay?”
“Spencer-”
He always loved your voice calling his name, and now, in his weak, tired, fearful state, he couldn't stop the words from pouring out of his mouth.
“I want you to know that you'll be okay, that she'll be okay, that everything will be okay, and that I love you. I love you both very much. Please, please...” He kept going. He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't stop. His mind was racing, and his words came out like a confession.
He was an expert profiler, a genius with an eidetic memory and a sharp mind, but at that moment, with his body weakened and his head spinning, he found himself unable to contain himself. He was exposed, open, and experiencing discomfort. All of the things he wanted to tell you, all of the questions he wanted to ask, and all of the concerns, worries, and thoughts in his mind came pouring out, like a dam breaking. He sensed that you could feel it through the line, and he realized that he could no longer deny it any longer.
“I love you. I have to go now.”
“Wait.”
You had a feeling something wasn't quite right, and those letters seemed to confirm your suspicions. They were a precautionary measure, a way of ensuring that everything would be taken care of in case something happened to him.
“I have to go, I'm...I'm busy, love.” He tried to sound convincing, and he knew he was failing miserably, but if he stayed a moment longer, he would continue to talk and confess more. “I love you both.”
“We love you too.”
If he wasn't already weak and trembling, hearing your voice telling him that you loved him, in that soft tone, would have made him fall to the floor again. He closed his eyes again and leaned against the wall, his own trembling hand going to cover his mouth so he wouldn't say more, because he would tell you everything if you kept talking in that sweet tone.
He wasn't ready to say goodbye.
So it was that he thought of you and your kind way of loving him before he felt his head hit the floor and his eyes close.
𝖳𝗈𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁!
𝓞𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻!! 🍂🪵☕️