Hi, so I have a request, but please don't feel pressured to write it now.
I was wondering if you could please do a scene or scenario where Spencer shouts out in desperation and panic "where's my wife" after a close call with the team on a very dangerous case.
A/N: I put a bit of a twist on your request so I hope you still enjoy it! Thank you for requesting~♡
Warnings: minor injury to canon characters, explosion, temporary loss of hearing, sight, etc.
The force of the blow was so strong that when Spencer Reid finally came to, a few seconds after hitting the ground hard, he couldn't hear a thing.
Whether it was adrenaline, or an injury, or pure shock, his senses were numb, and the only thought in his head as he started screaming was of you.
“Wh-where,” he coughed, shaking his head to try and focus. “Where's my wife?”
His voice was quiet and weak at first, but it didn't matter to him. After all, he couldn't hear the words at all. He just felt his lips form the words and knew the familiar vibrations in his throat meant the sound was escaping into the wind.
You pushed through crowds with a scream as you tried to get through to your team. Spencer wasn't the only one close to the blast.
Emily, JJ, Morgan, and Hotch were all in various states of disarray around you as you ran back from the car across the street. You'd run back to check some files, feeling something off, and the heat and loud boom behind you was the confirmation you'd been looking for that you were right.
After his first few attempts, Reid still couldn't see you, much less hear you or touch you or press his arms around you and not let go. He struggled to his feet and began calling again.
“Where's my wife? Where is… WHERE'S MY WIFE?” His voice broke, and he coughed gasped through each word, but he didn't stop.
He stumbled forward, looking to see you through the haze of dust that had erupted from the blast site. Morgan ran to his side just as he tripped, pulling an arm under his as they stumbled together away from the rubble.
“Where is she? She was right here, I need-” he coughed, leaning more on Morgan than he was walking for himself as his ankles twisted under him.
“Hey, hey kid, we're okay. We need to get away from the blast, okay? Away.”
Spencer kept rambling, though, his ears ringing as he blinked away his confusion and the panic creeped in stronger.
“My wife, where is she? Morgan, I have to find her, she could be hurt,” he demanded, his voice stronger now as he pushed out of Morgan's grip.
Ambulances and police cars were beginning to pull up, half of them already having been on route when your team had pulled up.
Spencer searched through the crowd, sorting through faces until he found the one he desperately needed to see.
Emily and JJ had been thrown back towards the cars, but both seemed to have missed big shrapnel and other injuries. He watched them clutch each other and stumble behind the cars as they called into their phones, requesting backup.
Hotch was similarly talking fast to surrounding officers, and though he looked fine, he clutched his knee in his hand. The already dark material of his pants was somehow darker, and shinier in places, and it was only a moment later that Spencer realized a large chunk of shrapnel was jutting out of his leg, just above the knee.
Rossi had been the furthest from the blast, bar you, and it was him that Spencer saw next, dusting off his clothes as he moved quickly to assess the scene.
Morgan was still worriedly trailing behind him as he tripped over his feet.
“Where's my wife? Where's my wife?”
He finally saw you then, as you dove into the dust and smoke to assist your team. He was just about to fall to his knees when you ran to him, holding him up under his arms as he wrapped himself around you.
“Found you. I found you, you're okay?” He asked, hands gently cradling your cheeks as he asked, tears in his eyes.
“I'm fine, Spencer. Are you-”
He silenced you with his lips, mouth slanting down on yours as he pushed every fear, every emotion, every ounce of adrenaline into your body. He kissed you like you'd never been kissed before, with desperation and longing and relief.
And when he pulled away, he collapsed into your arms.
Luckily, Morgan had been only steps away and took some of his weight off you as you stood, gasping for air and reeling from the kiss.
You were so dazed, you collapsed to the floor, your knees giving in beneath you, and both Spencer and Morgan came down with you. The three of you were weak and traumatized, and emotions were running high, which is why you tried not to be offended by Morgan's line of questioning.
“How long have you two been married?” He asked, and you were suddenly taken further aback.
“What?”
“Reid was looking for his wife. He was shouting ‘where's my wife? I need to find her.’ He was desperate. He was pushing away from me, and then he saw you, and he relaxed.” Despite the blow of the explosion and the now whirl of shrill sirens surrounding them, Morgan laid every word out carefully, like you would blow just as easily given the chance.
“I'm not… we're not…Morgan, we're not even dating. I don't know what that was but…”
Your hands carefully stroked Spencer's hair, gently smoothing it out of his eyes as you searched for answers in the man's unconscious form.
You didn't stop until the paramedics arrived four minutes later, sitting unblinking as they hooked him up to an oxygen tank and carted him off to the nearest hospital.
XXX
The second time Spencer Reid awoke, it was dark outside, and the lights were low. But you were at his bedside, sleeping with your head by his legs, and your breathing was steady. So he let his eyes close again, not registering any of the pain the day had inflicted, and let himself sleep beside you.
XXX
The third time Spencer Reid awoke, you were gone. He wasn't alone, though. Rossi sat upright in a chair beside the window of his hospital room, reading from what looked to be a case file.
“Spencer, glad to see you returned to the land of the living,” Rossi said, noticing the younger man's movement and walking to his side. He pressed a button, and a doctor raced in, closing the door gently behind him.
“Where is she? Where is-”
“Spencer, it's okay. Everyone's okay. The doctor needs to run through some questions with you to check if you're feeling okay. Do your best to answer, okay, genius?”
Spencer nodded, ignoring the small ache in his head, so similar to the headaches he'd been plagued with in earlier years.
The doctor ran through standard questions, checked his blood pressure, checked his reactions, and made sure physically he was fine before moving on to more probing issues.
“Doctor Reid, I'm going to ask you some simple questions about yourself now to assess for any neurological damage.”
Reid nodded, regretting it instantly, but wanting to get out of the hospital as fast as possible to see you.
“How old are you, Doctor Reid?”
“Thirty, I'll be thirty-one this fall.” The doctor nodded and continued.
“Where did you grow up?”
“Las Vegas, Nevada. My mom still lives there. She's a patient at Bennington Sanitarium.”
The doctor nodded and continued.
“Are you married, Doctor Reid?”
“Yes, my-” Spencer had to cut himself off as he processed the question fully. Was he married? No. He didn't remember any wedding. He had no romantic arrangement with anyone at this point in time. So why was he saying yes?
Your face flashed into his head, and he grabbed his chest as his heart ached. It wasn't your face as he usually saw it, but that dazed and shocked expression you'd worn after he'd kissed you.
He blanched and reclined slightly, suddenly needing all the pillows on the bed for more support as he realized the weight of his mistake.
“Doctor Reid? Doctor Reid, did you understand the question?”
“What? Oh, no. No, I'm…I'm not married, I guess.”
Rossi and the doctor shared a look before the doctor took his leave, promising to check in on you again in a few hours.
The concerned look from Rossi as his bedside was almost too much to take.
“Stop looking at me like that, Rossi,” he said, grumbling to himself, suddenly upset at the end of his delusions.
“Like what? I'm not allowed to look at you now?”
“You're not allowed to pity me. Where's everyone else? They're okay?”
Rossi took a seat next to him and sighed.
“Hotch is in surgery - non-critical. They just want to be sure the shrapnel that landed in his leg didn't strike anywhere near a nerve or an artery. Morgan survived with a few bruises and scrapes that make him look even more like an action movie hero. He's coordinating with local law enforcement to catch out bomber.”
Reid nodded along to each revelation, but his patience was growing thin. Rossi was watching him squirm. Reid, waiting for your name to pop up in conversation so he could talk about you, think about you with a valid excuse.
“Emily and JJ are back at the motels, Penelope met them there to help them out. Emily's left arm is broken, and she has a nasty cut on her face, JJ twisted an ankle and sprained it pretty bad, so she'll be sitting for a while. I, myself, survived with pleasantly few cuts, a boon given my advancing years-”
“Y/N, what about Y/N?” Reid finally burst, looking pathetically down at Rossi from his hospital bed.
“Eager, aren't we?”
“I need to know she's okay, and that... that she doesn't hate me.”
“You can find those answers out yourself, kid. My shift is almost over.”
Rossi stood and grabbed his cup of coffee, saluting Reid as he strolled out of the door.
Reid was confused until the door opened again thirty seconds later, and you rushed in, breathing heavily as you took in his appearance, checking for damage.
“Y/N,” he said, sitting up again. “Listen, I'm so, so sorry for kissing you yesterday. My mind must've been jumbled after the explosion and- and I thought you were actually my wife, and we were married-”
You closed the distance between you quickly, grabbing his cheeks like he had grabbed tours only a day before and planting your lips back on top of his again.
You kissed him the way you'd been kissed once before. With desperation, and longing, and relief. And when you pulled back, there were tears in your eyes that you didn't let fall, as you pressed yourself into Spencer Reid's arms.
“Don't. Don't scare me like that again. I thought we'd lost you, I thought you'd kissed me and then - and then died!” You ranted, your arms gesturing wildly, every few seconds pausing to rake a hand through your hair.
“You're not angry?”
“Yes. Yes, I am angry, Spencer. You got hurt again, I'm seething.”
“At me. You're not angry at me for kissing you?” He asked, smiling up as you goofily, a little bit worse for wear, but still shining nonetheless.
“Oh. No. I was confused, but I'm not angry.”
“Good,” he said, nodding, the two of you falling into an awkward, tense silence. You picked at dust on his shoulder as he stared at you, neither of you bold enough to say another word until the tension was palpable and Spencer Reid burst open.
“Can I kiss you again?”
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My Husband Has a Symbiote! Pt.1
Relationship: Symbiote! Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Content: Smut, definitely smut, p in v, oral sex, overstimulation, belly bulge, breeding kink in FULL display, fertility issues, Minors DNI!!
Summary: You find out Miguel has a symbiote for the most unexpected reason.
A/N: I kept thinking about Symbiote! Miguel and I just had to do it. If yall saw that recent concept art of him, he looks fucking huge. So as a birthday present to myself, I wrote this. Something to get us by while I continue writing the Valentine's Day one.
Miguel had a symbiote.
You knew the first day he got it. He was acting strange. More aggressive, energetic, and driven to his Spider Society cause. Also rough. You knew it when he pulled you in for a passionate goodbye kiss.
Plus, he was huge. You didn't think it was possible for your husband to get a bigger size in his suit. It oozed a foreign entity. He was rougher with his enemies. Causing them to be bruised and bloody at the end of the battle. Your Miguel showed some restraint. You weren't sure what this Miguel was.
Jess told you at the end of the day, confirming your suspicions. “He has a symbiote.”
“I figured…” You played with the necklace that had your wedding band between your fingers. “How did he get it?”
“No clue. One day, he was his grouchy self. Next day, he was extra grouchy.”
“What can we do? We have ways to get rid of it.”
Jess gave you a knowing look, “You know it's not easy with symbiotes. The wearer has to get rid of it on their own. Part of the-”
“Canon event. I know…” You sighed. You weren't going to get scared. Be afraid for your husband's life. You would take the knowledge you knew now in stride, even if that meant dealing with the fact that your partner had an alien on his body.
You didn't confront him about the symbiote. You saw no need to. Ben and Jess were informed. You wanted them to watch him so he wouldn't go too far. But you didn’t like how he was acting. He never took it out on you, but everyone else was a different story. It was hard for you to sleep, knowing your husband was in control of an alien.
One night, he came home late. You were still awake, watching his hulking form linger throughout the house. If you were normal, you'd be terrified.
“Miguel?” You called from the hallway. He turned towards you. His mask was still up. The eyes were sharp, filled with an unknown emotion you couldn't grasp.
“Our wife.” His voice was deep, rumbling to your core. Sharp teeth and a long tongue caught your eye. He inched to you like a predator. You backed up, mind playing out hundreds of backup plans you had once you found out about his new form. You jumped when hitting a wall. Cornered as Miguel hovered above you. His head trailed up and down in fascination. “So pretty. To eat.”
“I said we're not eating her.” Half of Miguel's face appeared, causing you to relax a little. He was still in there. To a certain extent.
“Not the type of eating we were talking about.” The symbiote sized you up even more. You didn't know how to take that. Miguel entirely took over, his face in view.
“I'm sorry. I'm still getting the hang of this.”
“Why did you do this?” You motioned to all of him, “For a man who doesn't play when it comes to canon events, you go ahead and play around with an alien.”
Miguel sucked his teeth, “I had a good reason, baby.” You blinked, waiting for him to come up with a good explanation. He shifted, his large form shaking the photos on the wall. You couldn't see any reason for him to form with a symbiote.
“I thought…it would help in our process of trying to have a baby.”
You froze. The extensive trials you and Miguel went through in trying for a baby were unsuccessful. He knew about your fertility issues. He knew before you got married. You didn’t expect him to go and fuse with a symbiote to boost the rate of being able to have a baby.
“The symbiote enhances my body.” Miguel explained, “Maybe we could try to use it to help us conceive.”
“Won’t the symbiotes…genes get in…?” You placed a hand on your stomach, not believing that you were considering it.
“No. It won’t affect any of our genes. It just increases the output.”
You scoffed, “So you would have super sperm?”
“In a way.” Miguel shrugged, hovering over you. You noticed how small you were compared to him. Your thighs squeezed together at the sight. “We should try it. See what happens.”
Common sense was starting to leave the window. Just having Miguel’s hulking frame above you, his eyes lowered in lust, was not helping. You were curious yourself. Would the symbiote help you finally be able to conceive? So your family can get bigger?
“You want me to have sex with the symbiote?”
Miguel chuckled, face down to your neck, taking in your delicate scent. “It’s still me. I promise.”
You placed your hands on his shoulders. His suit was sticky and you felt restraint when tried to remove your hands. You had no idea what you were doing. But it was your husband. You trusted him, knowing he wouldn’t harm you. So you had to take a leap. Literally. Miguel was so large you had to jump to even kiss him.
Your body flushed against his own as his tongue dove into your mouth. You were so caught up in kissing him, absorbed in how his hands groped and felt you, to realize you were in your bedroom.
You yelped when landing on the bed. Miguel's form hit the ceiling, standing at the edge. Waiting.
“Strip.” The voice was back again. Low, deep, and commanding. You blushed at how much that turned you on. Even with the monstrous teeth and all. You weren't wearing much besides a t-shirt and shorts, tossing them into darkness. Only remaining in your panties.
Miguel cupped himself, eyes trained on the prize between your legs. “All of it.”
You slid down your underwear at a slow pace. Even if you were about to get bred by a symbiote, you knew Miguel would still go crazy over your teasing. Pride swelled in your chest as his breathing became ragged. Every ounce of resistance he had in fucking you into the ground was waning. It wasn't until your panties were thrown aside that he pounced on you.
The bed creaked at the extra size. Miguel's symbiote used its long tongue over your neck, tasting the slight sweat. Your breasts, twirling at one nipple while his fingers pinched the other. Before going down to your stomach and over what he wanted most.
“We deserve to know how you taste…”
If you could squeeze your thighs together right now, you would. But your partner kept them separated. Spread wide enough for him to get a full view of your dripping sex. The tongue was back as it was his turn to tease you. Gliding along your inner thighs, not touching an inch of your cunt. You whined at how close he was. You tried to move your thighs to get him where you wanted but to no avail.
“Please…” You swallowed, heaving at the lack of touch. “Don’t tease…”
A guttural growl resonated in the room, which made you quiver even more. “You're so pretty when you beg.”
His tongue was heaven. Taking turns licking at your sensitive bud, thrusting in and out of your hole. Slurping sounds letting you know how much he loved tasting your cunt. You weren't sure if digging your hands into his covered head was a good idea so your hands fisted the pillows. Head back and unable to control your sounds of pleasure.
“Miguel…oh my…” You felt that familiar sensation rise in your stomach. Not stopping as he continued to please you. And you accepted it, climaxing for him. This was different from your normal Miguel. While he did make you see stars, this one was determined to make you see God. The way he didn’t stop after you came for him, eating your pussy like a starved man. When you tried to have the strength to pull away, his hand placed flat on your stomach. Overstimulation crept in as you shook under his hold. Thank goodness he pulled away, showing you his mouth glistening in the moonlight.
“We need you. Now.”
Your eyes widened when seeing his cock on full display. Miguel was big. Very big. Cock enlarged, veiny, pre cum beading around the tip. He was going to kill you if he put that thing inside.
“Where?” You gulped, pushing back your rising fear.
Miguel sat back against the headboard and settled you into his lap. Your back lay against his chest, staring at the gigantic cock. He grabbed a hold of your thighs, lifting and spreading you as wide as he could. You bit your lip as his dick slid against your sex, coating himself in your arousal. You couldn't do much in this position. Besides lie back and take it.
You shook as he entered you. Arms around his neck and digging into them as you sank down. Your mouth gaped, but nothing came out.
“Come on.” Miguel pushed, his own voice coming out a little tense. “You can take more…”
You clawed at his neck, sinking down further. It was to the point where there was a slight bulge in your belly. Which has never happened before. Once he bottomed out, he gave you time to adjust. You knew Miguel was being gentle, his arm muscles tense as he didn’t want to hurt you. You nodded when you were ready and he took control. He slid you all the way up, only leaving the tip of his cock inside before thrusting up into you.
He was massive. Easily filling you up while he pumped inside. Tears brimmed in your eyes. There was no coherent thought in your mind. With each intoxicating thrust, you couldn’t think. All you wanted was for him to keep going. To use you like this as long as he wanted.
Your eyes rolled back when his cock hit a perfect spot. Not feeling any of your lower body. “M-Mig…”
“We have you. Pretty little thing…” His face snuggled against your head, still maintaining the hard and sharp thrusts. Miguel’s suit made a tendril, slithering over to you to give more attention to your aching clit. You gasped at the sudden sensation. The familiar burning of your release was quickly rising again into something more. You struggled in Miguel’s hold, wanting to move away and escape your impending doom.
“Don’t…You’re gonna make me…” You whined, frantic breaths escaping.
“We want you to do it.”
There was no room for negotiation. Between the exhilarating way his cock stretched you and the advance on your clit, you were going to explode. You cried for your husband while soaking his cock with your fluids. Tightening around him for his seed. Aching to have him breed you. Miguel’s grunts turned into growls. Grating noises that shook the entire room. His thrusts were rough as now he was chasing his original goal. To pump his cum into you.
You didn’t move, watching your husband desperately paint you inside. There were one, two, three more thrusts before he let out a roar. His seed filled you up perfectly. It was so much that it was leaking out, even as Miguel tried to thrust more in. You didn't know what else to do if you didn’t get pregnant by this.
Once Miguel had his fill, he slipped out, placing you to the side. His face was back as he peppered your own with soft kisses.
“You okay?” You hummed, your throat a little sore. He held you close in a protective way, not wanting to let go for a moment. “Hopefully this works.”
“If it doesn’t…” You struggled to say with your raspy voice, “you’re getting rid of that thing.”
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