Criminal Minds x Reader

The Truth Written on My Skin [S.R]

There was a growing tension, your faces only inches apart as you sat on his lap. He had you trapped between his arms, his hand resting on your waist.

He didn't give you time to process the moment as he leaned forward, his lips pressing on yours in a soft yet desperate kiss. It had a fiery passion, almost like they were two perfectly matching pieces, set in time and space.

You took his face in your hands, your thumbs gently stroking his cheeks in a slow back-and-forth movement.

This wasn't the first time you would just sit on the sofa of his apartment kissing each other. There was nothing sexual in it, you hadn't taken your relationship to that point yet, only love and kindness in between your tired bodies, a pure form of intimacy. The way he would hold you keeping your whole shape still after a long and hard case was all you both needed.

In those moments it was just you two. Nothing else mattered.

Your breath coughed in your throat as he gave your hips a light squeeze, giving him the time to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

You moaned as you watched him loosening his tie around his neck, his lips slowly moving from yours to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses there.

"I missed you" he whined, his forehead brushing against your shoulder before moving up to capture your lips once again.

You smiled in between kisses. "I'm here, honey. I'm here"

When it came to Spencer, time never seemed to be enough. You would spend the whole day at work together, driving from and back home in the same car, and once in the comfort of your or his flat as evening fell and the dawn came to an end, all those moments still seemed too little and the space in between you too much.

He looked at you for a moment, his fingers on the hem of your jumper, a silent request for permission to remove it. You nodded, his hands quick to slip it off you, just before he continued his onslaught of kisses.

You barely managed to help him out of his sweatshirt when you felt his palms drop from your shoulders to your elbows, his lips stopping and an uneasy silence wrapping itself around you.

You moved your face away from his. "What's wrong?"

He did not answer you so you followed his fixed, lost gaze towards your right arm. Your breath caught in your throat.

"Spencer I-" is all you managed to say before you were cut off.

"Y/N?"

You felt his fingers on your skin, passing gently over the scars and his fingertips bending under their thickness.

Those scarred welts filled your whole body, but you were so used to keeping them hidden under long sleeves and was so caught up in the heat of the moment with him that you had forgotten about them. Guilt and embarrassment filled your chest and face.

You moved from his lap, away from him, away from his touch. All you felt was like crying. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry"

You tried to pick up your jumper from the floor to escape the situation, but a quick hand grabbed your wrist, blocking your movements. "Hey, no"

At the sound of his voice, so calm and weighted as if you were a glass vase ready to break, you lost your mind. You didn't miss people's pitiful eyes, their useless 'I'm sorry', and their offers of help. You didn't miss having to explain to the world that a while back hurting yourself seemed to be the only thing that made you feel better.

You didn't want to go through that again, especially with him.

With one arm he repositioned you on top of him and, holding you tightly, he lifted your chin with his thumb. "Let me kiss them better"

You did not immediately realize his words, your mind too noisy with thoughts to process anything else. You were brought back into the real world by his lips moving over the entire length of both of your arms, one at a time, slowly.

You were not used to such gentleness and understanding.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, that was not my intention, not at all" he whispered.

You looked at him and nodded, aware that if you tried to speak the tears would start to come out.

He smiled gently. "I don't want to tell you the usual nonsense, Y/N" he began, "You probably have heard it for years. But I want to say that I know you are a strong woman and your past, as long as it doesn't hurt you in the present, doesn't matter to me"

You managed to crack a smile. Part of you knew that he would know right away what those signs were, he was a clever man, your clever man, but surprise was still there along with fear.

"I love you and every little thing about you, every smile, every tear, and even every scar," he continued, "And I'm sorry you had to go through such bad times, but I'm here with you now"

He kissed your lips again, wrapping his arms around your bare body.

It had taken you some time to accept yourself and the body you were stuck in, convinced of the fact that no one else could accept a person wounded in both soul and body. But being hurt did not necessarily signal being ruined. It merely meant that that person or thing needed a little more love than the rest did.

And it was exactly at that moment, in Spencer's sofa, that you realized that your past and the battles you fought with your mind were not a problem.

The truth written on your skin was not a problem.