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#Single father Derek
handsofred · 9 months
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My current WIP's.
So I saw a post at some point showing the current WIPs that people have and those that they have posted. I kind of liked the idea so I thought that I would do the same.
Currently writing and have posted to AO3:
Signal in the sky - Steter (8/?) - Slow build, bad friend Scott McCall, Stiles leaves Beacon Hills, The Hales don't live in BH, Good friend Jackson, Emissary Stiles, The Hales all live, Peter didn't bite Scott, As Stiles spoke and recounted everything to the vet, Stiles thought it would be harder to tell it, but the words flowed easily as he described everything the best he could, from the letter he had gotten to the pack meeting before coming here. The more Stiles thought about it, the more he was feeling better, the weight was lifting higher off his shoulders as he breathed out freely. It felt like it was a second chance for him, like this had been the signal he had been waiting for in a long time.
I'm growing roots in the idea of you - Sterek (2/?) - Slow build, Emissary Stiles, Single father Derek, Fisherman Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Derek deserves nice things, ‘’Join the Emissary program they said, it would be fun they said. You’ll get assigned to California they said.’’ Stiles grumbled beneath his breath as he shifted on his feet. His hands were pressed as far and as deep as they could get in the large puffy jacket he was wearing, his eyes moving back and forth as he watches the bag carousal go round and around, bringing bags out to everyone but himself.
Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum - If you want peace, prepare for war - Sterek (16/?) - Female Stiles Stilinski, Tribal AU, Alpha Derek Hale, Good Peter Hale, Human Stiles, Stiles becomes pack, Warrior Stiles, Bad Scott McCall, Trigger warnings - loss of child, Fast asleep, the Alpha watched her eyes flicker under their lids with dream. Her mouth twisting down as her skin pulled around three large scars. From just above her left brow to mid cheek, he takes in the old wound, skin raised and jagged like claws. A war wound.
Scars and stripes - Sterek (10/?) - Single parent Derek, Soldier Stiles, Injured Stiles, Stiles has PTSD, Human AU, Alive Hales, Derek take cares of Stiles, Trigger warnings - Suicide attempt, Slow build He wished he could say that, he first saw him again at the school reunion he had gone back too, ten years after they had left high school, but in truth...it wasn't, and even so...it wasn't him who noticed him sat there, it was his daughter.
The Tattooed King - Steter (1/?) - King Stiles, King Peter, Human Stiles, Fae Stiles, Magical Stiles, Alpha Peter, Wolf Peter, Slow build, curses, warrior Stiles, Words whispered of pale skin and dark ink. They spoke of curses and lore, trailing through the night. Words spoke of a mighty king, one who slayed every time. They spoke of a wrath so strong that even his own men were afraid of him. Words spoke of a predator who hunted and captured in every step, of a king that was feared and loved together. Words spoke of a cold tune, echoing through colder hallways of night. They speak of a soul tainted and stained with the dead
Currently writing but have not posted.
Unpredictable - Sterek, - told from Scott's pov, time travel, Scott tries to change everything, blames Stiles for everything that has happened including the bite.
City of Shadows - Peter/Chris/Stiles. - Stiles can see the dead, Dead Laura Hale, Alive Derek,
If there's anything I've learned/ Flowers - Steter, Stiles/Chris briefly - Stiles is pushed out the pack, female Stiles, magic Stiles, Stiles gets the bite, slow build Steter,
It will never be the way it was - Unknown pairing - Stiles is in therapy, Trigger warning - talk of suicide and attempts,
Holding out for a hero - Steter - Stiles leaves Beacon Hills, Good friend Jackson, Bad pack, Bad Sheriff Stilinski, Chris Arget is the hero, Stiles gets attacked, Alpha Peter, Sane Peter Hale,
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mermaidsirennikita · 6 months
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saw the "who's your most underrated Kleypas hero" question getting bandied about (again) today, and I must say, the only answers I'll accept are:
--John McKenna/Again the Magic (I'd argue that AtM is not the DEEP CUT newer Kleypas readers think it is; before I read it, it was definitely upheld as a classic of hers, but people who want the softer boys she writes in the Ravenels... may not like this one; however, McKenna fucks RIDICULOUS lbr)
--Alex, Lord Raiford/Then Came You (yes... he calls her a bitch.... and I'll be real this made me love him more... he carried her over his shoulder outta Craven's and bought her a bear I'm VERY confident in this choice)
--Kev Merripen/Seduce Me at Sunrise (thought he'd kill Win with his massive dick, tied her up and took her to his fuck cottage, is Heathcliff if Heathcliff wasn't horrible basically)
--Leo Hathaway/Married by Morning (fun bout wounded king, "haha" in the streets and "oh shit" in the sheets, notable for making Catherine ask him to touch her pussy in explicit and specific language)
#romance novel blogging#besides rhys winterborne............ ravenel heroes are kinda mid! i'll be honest!#'but what of five feelings tom' his book bored me i'll try it again someday#west ravenel is the greatest disappointment of my life#gabriel and keir struggled under the weight of their father's slutty slutty legacy#devon was fine. but only fine.#don't even talk to me about ethan#mostly bc i don't remember a single defining feature#i just think the ravenels is a perfectly fine series#but to me it is truly dumbed down kleypas#it's kleypas for people who can't handle sebastian kidnapping lillian#or derek craven fucking that sex worker#or derek craven doing a minor stranglehold on a very bad lady#or alex calling lily a bitch (THERE ARE REASONS)#or kev refusing to take responsibility for tittygate bc he was very down on himself and also bc his dick might kill her#or mckenna spending literal years plotting aline's downfall lmao#leo is honestly p normal but he WAS a sad alcoholic!!!#(never mind westcliff being like 'well she seems into when she's blackout and that's good enough for me')#i just think the ravenels was written with the idea of appealing to people who don't go hard w historicals basically#and that doesn't mean you can't like it! i like several! including the one everyone hates!#but even the ones i like.... aside from MW i feel like there's some magic missing#and i think the magic is a lack of inhibition#and don't get me wrong lol she published bad books before the ravenels#books much worse than the ravenels#but like. idk. i just don't know how you can read like the ravenels#then go back and read the wallflowers or DoY or AtM#and not notice... a quality difference
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rhosgobelbun · 1 year
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i have mad respect for any sterek shipper thats gonna take one for the team and actually watch this monstrosity of a movie just to see if there's any hint of Stiles being Eli's other parent
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avis-writeshq · 7 months
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01 — better than revenge
summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST
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“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk. 
You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”
“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.” 
Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”
Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”
A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way. 
“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”
Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”
Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”
“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”
“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”
You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”
“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”
Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual. 
“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”
“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand. 
“In Culver City,” Derek adds. 
“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.
Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”
“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”
“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file. 
“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.
“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”
Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”
***
“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department. 
“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”
You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”
“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.
“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.
“Type Four?” 
Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”
“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”
“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out. 
Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”
Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”
“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently. 
“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases. 
“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”
He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s–”
“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.
You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”
“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”
“Lila?”
A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star. 
“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”
She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”
“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”
“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.
“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.
“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.
You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”
Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”
“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”
He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition. 
“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over. 
You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”
“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”
You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”
She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”
Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”
She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”
“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”
She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”
You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”
She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”
“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”
A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle. 
“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”
She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”
Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”
“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”
You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”
“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”
“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”
Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”
“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”
You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.
“What the…”
“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face. 
You gape at his words. “What are you–”
He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you. 
“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder. 
“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”
“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”
“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”
Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”
You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”
Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”
***
Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you,  Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff. 
The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.
“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.
You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.
You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”
Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”
One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”
He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”
“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set. 
Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands. 
“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”
“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”
A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”
“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”
He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”
“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”
He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”
You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk. 
Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”
Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses. 
“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”
He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face. 
“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee. 
You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.
“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.
A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.
“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it. 
“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.
Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.
***
The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything  amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end. 
Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.
“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.
“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.
“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.
Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”
“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”
You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”
Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”
Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.
“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.
Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing. 
“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”
“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.
Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”
“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”
You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”
“She called and asked for me.” 
You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”
The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly. 
“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.
An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”
“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.
“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.
Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”
“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”
He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.
His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”
He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.
“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.
The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”
His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.
“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.
“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.
Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“
“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”
“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”
You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”
“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”
“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”
She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.
“(Y/N), are you–”
“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”
At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”
“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”
“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”
You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”
Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”
The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.
Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.
“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.
The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something. 
“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.
You shrug. “I will be.”
“Is it to do with Reid?” 
You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”
Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”
“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.
“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“
“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan. 
Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.
“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”
The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.
“Hello?” 
“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.
She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”
You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.
“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.
“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.
You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”
In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope. 
“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”
A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”
“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.
The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”
You blink. “You know this guy?”
“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic. 
“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”
After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways. 
“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.
“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice
Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.
“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”
Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”
“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.
“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos. 
“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.
Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”
Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”
You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV. 
“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”
As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly. 
“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”
You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.
“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim. 
You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic,  and you turn to Detective Kim.
“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.
He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”
“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”
Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”
“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology. 
“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.
You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”
“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”
Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there. 
“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”
If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.
Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries. 
“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder. 
“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”
“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group. 
Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house. 
After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t. 
You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck. 
Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his. 
He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”
Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There’s no one here.”
“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something. 
“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”
“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water. 
“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”
“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”
Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”
Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”
“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”
He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”
“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”
His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”
“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time. 
Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away. 
“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?
“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw. 
“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”
“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.
The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”
“What?”
“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’
Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her. 
“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face. 
“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel. 
“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away. 
“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.
Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around. 
“Elle?”
“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek. 
“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”
“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”
He sighs, “(Y/N)–”
“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.
“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”
You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”
“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”
“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.”
“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.
Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”
“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”
“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”
Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact. 
“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.
“(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you. 
You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”
He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”
“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”
His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”
“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”
“Stop calling me that.”
“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”
He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”
“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”
“(Y/N).”
“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”
He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.
“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“Who’s blood is that?”
“Detective Kim’s.”
“What– were you shot at?” 
His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl. 
“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly. 
“Don’t say that.”
“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him. 
He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.
He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again. 
“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”
*** 
“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”
“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”
You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”
Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”
“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”
“You think she could be the UnSub?”
“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”
The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”
“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.
“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”
“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”
“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”
There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”
“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.” 
With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels. 
“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice. 
You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker. 
“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”
“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”
Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”
You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”
Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick. 
Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”
“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”
*** 
“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours. 
It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather. 
“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”
Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”
“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”
He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page. 
You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head. 
The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files. 
Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket. 
“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.
His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”
“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”
He huffs out a laugh. “What?”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”
You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well. 
He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”
He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”
He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”
Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”
You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”
“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”
“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”
“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”
He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”
Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”
He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”
“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work. 
He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”
“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”
“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”
“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger. 
“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”
“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”
“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”
“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag. 
You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”
He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet. 
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”
“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway. 
He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”
“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”
You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you. 
“I won’t do it again,” he promises. 
“I know.”
“I really am sorry.”
“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”
You laugh again and he smiles. 
“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”
His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”
You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”
The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant. 
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next part →
full work
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reblogs are always appreciated!
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eideticallys · 11 months
Text
New Favorite Game
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: maybe a part of spencer has always been sadistic but seeing your tears, seeing you mindless in pleasure has awakened something sinister in him. and spencer is nothing but a competitive, eager learner. (part 1 to new favorite banter, but this can be read as a standalone.)
genre: smut (minors dni!)
warnings: smut without plot, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dom/sub undertones, slightly mean!spencer, rough sex, dacryphilia, slight dumbification, mating press & doggy style (tell me if i forgot to add something!)
word count: 834
author's notes: my first ever smutty piece! i'm kinda happy with how it turned out but considering it's my first time writing smut, i know i have lots to improve on. however, i hope everyone will still like this. with that said, please tell me your thoughts about this & minors do not interact (please)! anyway, have fun reading! also posted on ao3 (spencereids).
PART TWO
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SPENCER CAN’T BELIEVE THERE’S A PART OF HIM THAT ENJOYS SEEING YOU CRYING. It’s cruel. Sadistic, yet he can’t help it. The sight of you wailing, begging him for more, begging him to go harder, deeper gets him going.
Pounding you into the sheets, Spencer thinks he just died and entered heaven with how delicious your cunt has tightened. Your cries and moans are so loud, he’s certain he’s getting a noise complaint in the morning. His very first one, considering he’s rarely home and he’s a stickler for rules.
Plus, he never thought he had it in him to make a woman cry out in pleasure.
He’s not Morgan, who, when compared to him, is very experienced in that department. Derek always had a line of girls whenever the team went out for drinks until he met Savannah. Nowadays, Derek is a one-woman kind of guy.
Spencer is definitely unlike Rossi, who had a revolving door of spouses, no offense meant. Of course, Rossi knew a lot of things when it comes to women.
Spencer is not like Hotch, for certain. Hotch is a father, of course, he knows a thing or two about the many ways in the acts of sexual prowess.
So, when the night with you took a steamy turn, Spencer didn’t think he’d be able to bend you over the table, pound you into the mattress, and blow your back out in just one night. He thought it’d be done so soon but no.
You were insatiable.
You weren’t content with just simple foreplay and fucking him in one position. You were relentless and Spencer was eager to please you.
Spencer was eager to get lost in your body.
And now, Spencer has you on your back, legs folded toward your chest, as he fucked you into total submission. His strokes were so deep, he could feel his tip nudging your cervix. He knows you’ll be sore by the time the sun rises but he can’t help it. It feels so good to be buried deep inside you.
This might just be Spencer’s favorite position. He gets to pound you relentlessly. He has you at his mercy as he burrows into you rhythmically, entirely, while seeing your face wet with fresh tears as his sweat beads and trickles down to you.
He likes that he gets to see how much of a mess he has made when he looks down and sees himself entering your cunt, hearing the sloppiness and the sound of sloshing.
God, you were so wet. How is that possible? How could someone get that wet? Spencer knows the answer but he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it when he has your body writhing under him.
“More, Spencer,” You sob as you fisted the sheets you laid on, writhing and moving your hips in time with Spencer’s. “P-please, baby. I’m so close. Shit, close, fuck!”
“You feel so good.” Spencer groans in response, punctuating each word with a deep thrust, causing you to whimper, slight drool rolling down the side of your lips. “Is that what you want?”
Too lost in the pleasure, your eyes roll so far back, your body moving to your own accord. You couldn’t hear what Spencer has just said. You couldn’t even begin to process a single syllable he has uttered. Not a single coherent thought going on inside that beautiful brain of yours. 
Spencer, although exhilarated that he has reduced you to just a pile of gyrating flesh, does not like the lack of response at all. Grunting, he flips your body over which caused him to slip out in the process.
“No. No. No.” You whine pathetically, cunt trying to clamp down on him as you feel him slip out. You scratch whatever you could get your hands on in protest. The sheets. The pillows. Spencer. “Y-you’re m-me—shit—mean, Spence. P-please! Cum! I wanna cum! Please!”
“Mean?” Spencer glowers mid-thrust, gripping your hips hard enough to leave purple bruises you’ll be sporting for at least a week. 
He’s being mean? Hasn’t he done everything you’ve asked for tonight? He has given in to all of your demands, prolonging your pleasure, and reducing you to tears, but he’s being mean?
“You want mean, princess?” Spencer asks as you sobbed, trying to get him to move but his hands hinder you from doing so. His cock deliciously pressed against that one spot inside of you. But it wasn’t enough. You want the entirety of him inside you. You want to be filled up to the brim. Your cunt molded to the shape of his cock. “I’ll show you mean.”
Maybe a part of Spencer has always been sadistic but seeing your tears, seeing you mindless in pleasure has awakened something sinister in him. And Spencer is nothing but a competitive, eager learner.
This might just be Spencer’s new favorite game. Pleasuring you until you become a boneless, mindless, and thrashing mess.  
And he always gets what he wants.
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fragileruns · 6 months
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Hii, I saw your last post and I thought why not send a request? Here is my idea: single dad!Spencer/Reader. Spencer brings his daughter to the BAU during a paperwork day, his daughter meets Reader for the first time. Reader is not used to being around children, so they (you can keep it gender neutral if you want to) are a bit awkward aand shy. But of course Spencer's daughter wants to be their friend because Spencer always tells his daughter how amazing Reader is. I'll leave the rest up to your imagination, thank you for reading and writing this, I'm sure it will turn out better than I imagined <33
i’m so sorry this is actually awful because i’m also terrible with kids and have no idea how situations go about with them haha - hopefully it’s somewhat what you wanted, though!
spencer reid x bau!reader. featuring his daughter, derek, brief mention of emily, y/n & spencer being flustered over their situationships, reader is mentioned to have a bunny, i think that’s it? it’s just fluff
You thought you had to be imagining things when you heard a voice - one that could only belong to a little kid - ask “Which one’s Y/N?”
You weren’t, and one glance around the room confirmed that. You saw Spencer bent down, messing with a little girl’s hair, who you could only assume was his daughter. Once he looked up to point over at you and gave you an almost apologetic smile, your eyes widened and you realized too late what was happening.
“Be nice, okay? Don’t be too crazy.” You could hear him tell you, and your nerves were fighting with you as you tried to plan for what was going to happen. What are you supposed to say to a little kid? You hardly knew what to say to people your age.
“‘M always nice, Dad,” The little girl sighed with a slight huff as he still held onto her and he only chuckled, placing a kiss to the top of her head before he let her go. Immediately, she was rushing over to you with a grin.
“Y/N!” She sounded so excited that you almost questioned if you were some sort of child tv show star. Why would she even be looking for you? You’ve never met.
“Hi, Max. Right?” You smiled down at her, and she nodded eagerly. You could hear Spencer’s footsteps approaching, and you were thankful that at least if you were a total bore to her, he could save her.
“Daddy told me that you, um, that you got a new bunny. Can I see it?”
You nodded and went to grab your phone to show her the pictures you got, and you almost wanted to laugh at the innocence of the interaction. You didn’t expect a child to be so eager just to see pictures of your new pet.
You also didn’t expect for you to be a topic of conversation in the Reid household, and Spencer seemed to fluster at the idea of you knowing as much.
“She just - she really likes bunnies, so when you were showing pictures the other day, I wanted to - yeah. I just told her,” He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, and you smiled up at him before turning back to his daughter.
“You can come see him one day, maybe. If your dad’s okay with bringing you over.”
You and Spencer both seemed surprised at your invitation, and you weren’t entirely sure where it had come from. Spencer had never been to your house before. It seemed too intimate, almost, for the weird type of situationship you two found yourself in.
Max gasped with excitement and turned up to her father, “Please? Can we go today, Dad? Please please please?”
“I don’t think they meant today, sweetheart. Maybe some other day though, okay?” He tried to calm the little girl, before turning back to you. “If you’re really okay with that.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” You grinned, placing your phone back on your desk now that Max was done swiping through the pictures.
Derek walked by then, and as soon as he came up to your desk and noticed the little girl standing there, he made a dramatic gasp. “Max? Since when did you get to be a giant?”
She giggled and quickly ran for his legs, tackling into them with a tight hug, “Hi, Uncle Derek.”
You were thankful for the reprieve, worried that now you didn’t have the prospect of seeing a bunny in your conversation, you’d have nothing else to say to her.
“Daddy’s gonna take me to see Y/N’s bunny.” She said, the child in her shining through at the need to tell every little thing, but you didn’t mind. You sort of liked that you had something to make her so excited.
Derek looked up at the two of you with a grin, and you both knew what was coming. He had been too eager to tease the two of you about being ‘lovebirds’ even when you vehemently denied it. This was only more fuel.
“You sure you’re invited to go with him?” Derek had questioned, but Max didn’t understand the implication.
“‘Course I am, Uncle Derek. It’s a bunny.”
“Yeah, Derek. It’s a bunny.” You spoke up, eyes narrowed at him in a way that told him not to push it further, but the chuckle that left him told you he wasn’t done.
“Hey, kiddo, why don’t we go see Aunt Emily? Let your dad and Y/N keep planning their date.”
“It’s not-” Spencer had started but Derek looked at him with an innocent expression.
“Playdate, obviously. For Max and the bunny.” Spencer’s cheeks were flushed pink, and yours were too, as Derek broke into a grin.
“Yeah, Dad. Obviously.” Max mimicked before eagerly following after Derek to find Emily, leaving you and Spencer avoiding eye contact with equally red cheeks.
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christinesficrecs · 5 months
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Happy Saturday! Enjoy these brilliant fics. 🩷
I don’t know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 17.8K
“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”
He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.
His Only Defense by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 78.7K
Stiles had just accidentally challenged an alpha.
Oh God, and Scott had just stood by and let him do it. He was the worst best friend ever. Stiles was going to kill him. Except, oh right, the alpha was going to kill him first. Like beyond dead, ripped into tiny little pieces dead. So far dead that his dad would not be able to identify him, dead.
Laying Groundwork by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K
The one where Scott and Stiles go clubbing and there’s this broody Bouncer out to get Stiles-
Or get into his pants. Thank God it’s the latter.
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The one where mateless Derek thinks no omega can affect him like they do other alphas and he’s about to find out he’s very, very wrong.
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The one when Stiles and Derek work for rival assassin companies and are sent to kill each other. It definitely doesn’t go as planned.
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“I will marry you,” he declares. “But should any more harm come to my father or my people, I will raze the earth itself until I feel the lifeblood drain from your corpse and paint my skin with it.”
It is not an idle warning, but from the princeling it has none of the desired effect. Derek feels no fear, but in this instance at least diplomacy triumphed over the spilling of more blood. It is all the same to him anyway. But Regent Peter was most insistent they avoid a drawn-out, gruelling war.
“Then we have reached an accord.”
Oh baby give me one more chance (to show you that I love you) by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 54.7K
“You like Derek,” he says slowly. “Derek Hale.”
His father grimaces at the accusation there. “Look, Stiles it’s complicated-“
“So when I was married to him,” he continues, voice rising. “He wasn’t good enough. He was taking advantage of me. ‘He’ll never be able to love you like you want, Stiles’. That’s what you said-“
Or the Sweet Home Alabama AU that nobody asked for.
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“All in favour of Derek not dating for a full year so he can get his shit together and stop romancing people who want to kill us?”
Everyone raises their hands. Every single pack member.
Or the one where the pack insists Derek can't date anybody for a year but he ends up finding romance much closer to home anyway.
I know that you love me, even when I lose my head by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 135.5K
“We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“
“Ouch,” the kid says, no longer pushing that shit eating grin.
“He’s- he’s,” Derek tries, at a loss of how to explain why this can’t be possible. Why it shouldn’t be possible.
When sparks fly by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 87.5K | Abandoned
“Derek,” Stiles thunders. “Were you ever going to tell me your house is trying to hook us up?”
Derek’s head snaps up, eyes wide and scenting the evident crackle of magic in the air.
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The sign on the cage actually reads Beware: The Beast! in that crappy horror movie red paint that trickles down the paper in a failed attempt to appear like dripping blood.
And it would seem stupid if not for the living supernatural creature currently trapped behind its bars. Little hard to dismiss the big, hulking werewolf as a poorly constructed horror movie prop.
Oh how the mighty have fallen. Dude, cannot catch a break.
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“Well I guess accidental kidnapping is not so bad then,” Scott decided brightly after the others had finished describing their ordeals. “All’s well that ends well, right?”
“HAHA,” Stiles practically shouted, loud and unsettling enough that everyone turned to look at him. “I mean, yep. For. Sure.”
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astrophileous · 7 months
Note
if reader is bug, their son is little bug and their daughter is little bug, what is derek's bug related nickname? or is he disappointed about not having one?
OKAY I personally think Derek's usually fine over not having a bug-related nickname (after all, he's the one who came up with them for his lil family 🥺) but I just imagined a scenario that wouldn't be ooc for him to feel jealous of not having a similar nickname and I hope this is to your liking <3
Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist
It was bound to happen.
With how often Derek dropped the sweet nickname for you every single day, you knew that it was only a matter of time before it was bound to happen.
But that didn't mean you weren't absolutely floored when it happened for the first time.
"Bah."
Derek's eyes caught yours from across the room. "Did she just--"
"Bah. Bah."
In front of you, your daughter stood on wobbly legs. Your face was the exact twin of Derek's stunned expression as you saw your daughter pointing her fingers towards you and said--for the nth time that afternoon--a word that made your brain reduce into a mush.
"Bah."
"Is she--" your voice caught around a disbelieving chuckle, "--is she saying Bug?"
As if confirming your suspicion, your daughter took hold of your hand before pressing it to her face. "Bah."
Derek was laughing as he crossed the room. He picked up his daughter and lifted her in the air, earning a series of delighted giggles from the 1-year-old.
"My smart baby. Who's a smart baby? Yes, you are!" Derek cooed.
"We're gonna have to explain to people why our daughter's first word is Bug." You laughed as you watched your husband smother your daughter in kisses.
"Well, we can just tell everyone that we have the smartest 1-year-old in the world. Isn't that right, Baby Bug?"
"Bah."
For the next few weeks, your daughter's adorable murmurs of bah became the new constant in your home. She started learning to use the word as a means to attract your attention. But it wasn't the only thing that your daughter had managed to learn.
"Lil bah."
"That's right, baby!" Your son clapped his hands ecstatically, his sister mirroring him with an exhilarated grin. "I'm Little Bug. Good job!"
You followed the interaction between the two from the couch, a permanent smile on your lips. Derek was lying with his head on your lap when you heard him sigh.
"You okay, Mister?"
"I'm the only one she's still refusing to call."
The pout Derek had on his face nearly made you chuckle, and you probably would have done it if you didn't know just how devastating the whole thing was for him.
"You should take it as a compliment," you said instead, trying to put a balm on his wounded heart. "She only said Bug as her first word because she listens to you so much. She just wants to mirror everything you do, hun."
Derek exhaled another long breath. "Should I find myself a bug-related nickname just so she would call me?"
You snorted. "Like what? Mr. Bugkeeper?"
Derek pinched your thigh. "Very funny. I'm hurt and all you do is make fun."
That last statement of his actually made you laugh. Derek proceeded to grumble something under his breath, but you were too busy trying to keep your bellowing laughter under control to pay attention to it.
From across the room, your daughter suddenly stood on her chubby little feet before staggering over to where you and Derek were lounging on the couch while your son continued to play with his toys.
"Bah," your daughter said once she had reached you.
"Hi, baby."
"Bah." She proceeded to turn towards Derek after that, tracing the features on her father's face with exploratory fingers and a cute curiosity in her eyes. "Bah?"
"That's not Bug, baby," you told her. "That's Dada. Can you say Dada?"
She stared blankly at your face in response.
"Say Dada," Derek encouraged. "Come on, Baby Bug. Say I love you, Dada!"
Your daughter blinked and tilted her head to the side.
Derek sighed in disappointment. "This is hopeless. She's never gonna--"
"Da."
You and Derek both froze in shock.
"Da." Your daughter grabbed a hold of Derek's cheeks. "Da. Wuv yu."
You didn't think you ever saw Derek sit up so fast in his life.
"Baby Bug." Your husband's voice was laden with bewilderment. "Can you say that again, sweetheart? Say that again for Dada?"
"Da. Wuv yu."
The laughter that rumbled from Derek's chest spoke of the greatest joy you had ever seen radiating from a person. He picked your daughter up in his embrace, spinning her around until the baby shrieked in glee.
"I told you it would happen, Mr. Bugkeeper," you said around your own jubilant laughter.
If it were any other day, Derek would have given you a side eye over the ludicrous nickname. But at that moment, Derek couldn't find it in his bones to care.
After all, his daughter had just told him that she loved him for the first time.
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sweatervest-obsessed · 9 months
Text
Dedicated To New Lovers
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)
WC: ~5.5k
TW: Murder, Angst, Character Death, guns, violence, blood, swearing, depression, mentions of disordered eating, mentions of insomnia, self-deprecating thoughts, loneliness, heartbreak, Mentions of Emily's death, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure
A/N: This is based on s8 ep12, Zugzwang. It deviates slightly but still makes Spencer sob so it could basically be canon. Obviously, or maybe not to some people, this fic is based off of Night Shift by Lucy Dacus. It's been my obsession for the past couple weeks and I simply just had to write something for it. Now my one issue is, besides me ignoring editing it, is that I hate when things don't end happily, but I'm breaking out of the mold of everything ending with a nice neat little bow, so please enjoy! (well as much as you can for such a depressing fic lmao).
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"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life alone ---We find it with another." ~Thomas Merton.
“Thank you for such a wonderful night.” You murmured, pulling away from the kiss, hands on their chest. “I really enjoyed it Spe—”, you coughed and blinked a couple of times, catching yourself. “Especially,” You clutched your chest, smiling up at them, “Sorry I don’t know where that just came from.” 
The lips you had just kissed had shifted into a concerned smile, but was none the wiser. 
“Especially dessert. I loved the pie place, you were so right! The apple was just perfectly seasoned, and the crust was still crumbly.” You leaned up and kissed their cheek again. 
“I’ll see you again, yeah?” You whispered, before turning around and heading into your apartment building, not waiting for a response, smile falling the second you weren’t looking at them. You buzzed yourself in and quickly walked up the four flights of stairs towards your door.
You fucking hated pie. Well that wasn’t true, but you didn’t really want to spend your evening going and getting pie with someone you really weren’t that into. 
You couldn’t help but wonder why everything was wrong. They were kind, and sweet, and cared so much for you, but it just wasn’t the same. Your heart was just not in the place, and not a single butterfly fluttered around in your stomach, you couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you.
Well that was a lie too. You knew exactly what was wrong. 
“I’m fine, it’s fine.” You mumbled, getting your keys out and unlocking your front door, grabbing the mail off of the mat, and closing the door behind you. 
The boxes stacked precariously around your place just left you feeling more and more destitute on this island of loneliness. God you were so fucking dramatic. You dumped the roses they had given you, and your purse onto the kitchen counter, and went straight for the fridge, grabbing the bottle of Prosecco. The cork popped, and you took a swig straight from the bottle. 
Your phone rang, and you pulled it out of your pocket, sighing and answering it. 
“Hey Em.” 
“Wow, was it that bad of a date?” Emily laughed a little. She had been concerned about you, the whole team had been concerned about you. Her death had hit you and Spencer the hardest. You had become fast friends with Emily, regardless of the fact that when she joined, you were the youngest, and newest on the team as well. The two of you had become fast friends, and even faster sisters. She was your everything. She was there for your father’s death, the start of your relationship with Spencer, the harder cases, the bitching, the girls nights, the everything. But you had run into the warehouse, and saw Derek cradling her hand, screaming for a medic, and you just lost it. Your brain went into overdrive, rendering you useless. When JJ walked into the waiting room and told all of you the news, you sat there, shocked. Spencer had tried to go see her, but you had just excused yourself and walked out to the parking lot. It was devastating. You were allowed back from leave a week later than everyone else because Hotch knew you needed more time. So when she walked back into the round room, alive and well, your barely pieced together mind completely shattered all over again. 
You watched for seven months as Spencer let you grieve alone while running off to JJ’s house for comfort. You had sat alone in your shared apartment becoming more and more of a shell of a person, not really eating, sleeping, or even drinking water; you were barely existing. Five years of a relationship washed away because that first night, instead of comforting each other, Spencer had abandoned you at the hospital, forgetting to even drive you home. Then, when his headaches got, he pulled even further away, only hearing snippets of how he was doing from those on the team who didn’t even live with him. 
The team could only watch as you slowly became a ghost of yourself, while Spencer couldn’t even give a shit to notice. 
The first time he mentioned Maeve to you, it was like a stake in your chest. You had caught him talking to her when you had come back early from the therapy Hotch had almost threatened you at gunpoint to go to. He quickly hung up the phone and mentioned that she was his doctor, helping him with his headaches. But you knew better. You had heard him laughing before you walked into the apartment. You hadn’t heard him laugh since before Emily had “died”. 
Then, one night, he told you it was over.  I don’t love you anymore. 
You just sat there, chest caving in on yourself. 
Since this was my place first, uh…I can give you a couple of weeks to find a place, and I’ll even sleep on the couch…
His words bounced around in your head before Emily said your name. “You disappeared on me.” 
“Shit-uh, shit. Sorry Em.” You shook your head, and pinched your brow. “They were really lovely Em, just the best. But I’m just not ready.” 
Emily sighed, “I know it’s only been four months but I’m proud of you, I really am. For even going out in the first place. Want me to come over, bring a new bottle of prosecco.” 
You laughed, but it had no substance. “How’d you know I was almost out of Prosecco.” 
Emily sighed. “I know you’re a grown woman who can handle living alone, but Sergio and I wouldn’t have minded if you stayed with us for a couple more weeks.”  
“And I know that, and I love you so much for it, but the only way I’m ever going to be able to…” the words got stuck in your throat. “I, um. I had to.” 
Emily sighed, but understood. “Okay, well, if you need anything, I’m a phone call away, or a block away, whichever is faster for you.” 
“Thanks Emily. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that you hung up the phone, not wanting to prolong the conversation any more than it had. 
“Fucking Maeve.” You grumbled to the living room before taking another swig from the bottle. You barely slept these days. Your date this past night? The first time you had eaten a full meal in over two weeks. Your skin was a little more gaunt, and the concealer you were using was working overtime to hide the bags under your eyes. You were once someone filled with so much joy, and so much love to give. Everyone knew you were a touchy person, always giving hugs, touching people’s arms, squeezing their hands; if someone tried to touch you now, your whole body would tense up, your stomach would flip. Eventually, after finishing off the bottle, you fell into a restless sleep on the couch of your apartment, since you didn’t want to sleep alone in your own mattress, dreaming about the fact that someone else was probably in the one you bought with Spencer all those years ago when he asked you to live with him.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
The office went silent as you walked into work the next morning. You were always one to arrive early, make your coffee, visit Penelope in the Bat Cave, stop by Hotch and Rossi’s offices and wish them a good morning. But these days you walked through those glass doors exactly at 9 am, unless you were called in. 
It was masochistic to still work at the BAU, but it was one dream you weren’t going to let Spencer take away from you. But as you walked into the bullpen, and all heads turned towards you with such pitiful looks, you doubted whether you belonged here anymore. 
Before you could place your bag down, Aaron walked over to you and quietly asked if you would come into his office. You obliged, a sinking feeling in your gut, as you followed Hotch, while the eyes of everyone else followed you. 
As Hotch opened the door, you froze. Spencer was sitting on the couch, trying to wipe away the tears in his eyes. He clearly also hadn’t been sleeping, but you knew those tears weren’t for you. You stayed in the doorway until Hotch gestured to one of the chairs along the side of his office. You moved away from the door, but stayed standing, refusing to sit down. Hotch closed the door, trapping you in his office with someone you hadn’t spoken more than necessary to in over four months.
“Do you want to tell me why I'm here.” You asked calmly, trying to ignore the desperate man on the couch, who was just staring down at his feet. 
“I am going to ask you to sit out this case.” Hotch looked at you, not sitting down either, ready to calm down whatever fight you’re about to put up. 
Your eyes narrowed at your section chief and you scoffed. “You better have a seriously good explanation Hotch because as I’ve told you many times before, I’m doing fine. I don’t know what has been said, but I’m perfectly capable at—”
“I asked him if you could sit out.” Spencer’s voice was hoarse, but solid as he looked at you. 
You closed your eyes and flexed one of your hands, resisting the urge to punch him in the teeth.
“Since when do you know what’s best for me, Doctor Reid.” It took all of your control to stay civil and not curse him out in front of your boss. 
“That’s not it.” Spencer licked his lips but he quickly averted his gaze. “T-The case. It’s um. It’s about Maeve and I–” 
Your heart dropped. Bile started to rise in your throat. “oh.” You had never felt so small in your life. Tears were forming in your eyes. “I’ll be right…I—” 
You barely even finished the thought before you opened the door, and quickly walked out of Hotch’s office. No one even tried to pretend that they weren’t watching Hotch’s office. Emily and Derek shot up off of their desks and immediately went to follow you as you sped down the stairs and through the bullpen. Hotch just looked down at his feet while Reid just rubbed his hands over his eyes. 
You shoved through the doors, accidentally bumping into Penelope on the way out, causing her to drop the files and coffee mug in her hand. It shattered on the ground, but you couldn’t stop to apologize. You needed to be in the bathroom before you became the agent who threw up all over the halls because of some stupid broken heart. 
Emily had quickly helped Penelope pick things up, the two exchanging hushed whispers and looks. Derek had apologized to Penelope while he ran past, catching up to you with every stride. You shoved open the door to one of the woman’s rooms, Derek right behind you. 
Luckily for you, it was empty, so you could continue running to the biggest stall, before dropping to your knees and throwing up. It burned your throat and your eyes, stinging every inch of skin as it rose up your throat and into the toilet in front of you. 
Derek had pulled back your hair, and was now sitting down next to you as you dry heaved into the toilet. You only threw up actual substance one more time, but it was just that stupid fucking apple pie and the Prosecco from the night before. There was nothing else in your stomach to throw up, so your body settled for making you gag continuously. 
“Fuck.” You cried into the toilet, letting yourself fully devolve into the mess you were destined to become this morning. 
Derek just rubbed your back, “It’s okay pretty girl, let it all out.” 
“Derek Morgan I think I am the ugliest son of a bitch right now.” You mumbled, reaching up and flushing the contents down the drain, tears still racing down your face. “I can’t fucking—” You tried to breathe in but your body was shutting down. That’s all it seemed to do these days. It felt like the only way to protect yourself anymore. “He–”
“I know.” He whispered softly, offering you some toilet paper to let you wipe off your face, as you leaned back, away from the toilet. 
That’s when the first sob wracked your body. Maybe you weren’t meant to be on this team anymore. Spencer had been here longer. You were only an asset to the team because of your positive attitude which left your body the second Emily Prentiss was pronounced dead in that waiting room. You were the definition of useless. I mean, Derek and Emily were partners, Hotch and Rossi had everything down pat, and Spencer, even when you were dating, was truly partnered with JJ most of the time. You were the odd man out, and you were fucking useless. 
Derek had pulled you into his chest, hugging you as the sobs continued. His heart was breaking for you. No one on the team really knew what had happened that night, all they knew was that you didn’t come in one day, and then when you did the next, you looked like shit. All while Spencer seemed fine. Then, when your desk was moved to the opposite side of the bullpen, it confirmed any and all guesses the profilers had been making. You were never paired with him on cases anymore, and if you were, there was always a third person. You barely looked at one another. Spencer’s scarf had reappeared on his desk one morning, and suddenly you were no longer staying in the same hotel rooms. Derek just kissed your head as you let your body give up. 
He wasn’t stupid. Like everyone else, he had noticed the way you had been losing weight. He had noticed the amount of makeup you had started to wear. He even realized that he hadn’t seen you eat any meals with them in the past couple months while they were out on cases. But what he hadn’t fully realized was the fact that you were dead, inside and out. There was nothing left of you but the barely alive body he was holding. 
Spencer had really gotten a good look at you for the first time in a very long time. He had already felt guilty about the fact that he had Maeve, and that you had broken up he had broken your heart. But what he had failed to realize was the same thing Derek had–You were someone entirely different, a ghost of yourself. The guilt was gnawing through his stomach when he told Hotch what was going on, and he had begged Hotch to let you sit out, trying to save you from this, but clearly Spencer couldn’t do anything right for you anymore, he hadn’t been able to in a very long time. Hotch had cleared his throat while Spencer shook his head. “I-I tried Hotch, I really didn’t want…”
He just nodded at Spencer. “I know Reid, but you must have known there was no way this conversation was going to go any better than that.” 
Reid just nodded, and stood up, going out into the bullpen, not missing the way all of their eyes snapped to him, as Penelope dumped her broken mug into the trash. 
Before anyone could say anything, Hotch walked out of his office and looked at everyone. “As you all could have guessed, Agent Y/L/N will not be joining us on this case. I expect everyone in the conference room in ten.” and with that, Hotch walked past Reid, and down the stairs, out towards where he had assumed you had run off too. 
Spencer just stood on the stairs, watching Hotch walk to you, wishing it could be him to hold you in his arms.
Hotch opened the door to the women’s bathroom, and saw Derek cradling you. As you heard the door open, your body had tensed up and all of your tears had stopped. Derek and Hotch shared a look before Hotch kneeled down. 
“Sorry Aaron.” You mumbled, trying to wipe away the remaining tears on your face. 
“Don't apologize. Take the next couple of days off. Penelope might call and ask you a question or two, if she manages to forgive you for breaking her third favorite coffee mug…” 
You laughed slightly at his joke, trying not to let it cause you to cry even more, wiping away more tears. 
“But I expect you don’t need me to tell you this is an order.” 
You nodded at Hotch while you stood up, Derek quickly following suit. “We’re meeting in ten.” He nodded at Derek, who took the hint. He squeezed your arm, and kissed your head, whispering to call him if you needed anything, before leaving just you and Hotch alone in the bathroom. He held up your purse and gave you a sympathetic smile. 
“I am only a phone call away Y/n. If anything happens, I want to be the first to know.” He nodded at you, only for you to pull him into a hug. Hotch smiled slightly, because you hadn’t really hugged anyone for a while, so he quickly reciprocated before pulling away. “Hotch, can I ask you one more favor?” 
“Anything,” He said softly.
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Once he had left, You grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and tried to wipe as much of the mascara track marks off. You eventually just wiped off your whole face of makeup. You stared at yourself, realizing just how fucked you were. Eventually, you had made your way out of the bathroom, and past the bullpen. Everyone was piling into the conference room, but Spencer had stopped to watch you enter the elevator, really looking at you. You made eye contact right as the doors started to close. Spencer’s gut twisted at the forlorn look on your face. But before he could do anything, the doors were closed, you were gone, and his name was called by Hotch. -------------------------------------------------------------------------
According to the updates from Emily and Derek, the case was not going well. You knew very little about it, and you wanted to keep it this way, but you knew this case wasn’t going to end well. You could just tell. 
You had been existing in your own apartment, making frequent trips to Emily’s to keep your favorite cat company. You would go on long walks as the sun set, nowhere truly in mind, just wandering around trying to think about anything else. You would listen to your music, trying to take your mind off of the man who you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since you first joined the team. It could have been yesterday based on how well you remembered it. 
But instead of wallowing, you tried to at least wallow in public, resolving to minimize the sheer amount of pity parties you had been throwing yourself.
Three days later, you had been walking around aimlessly, just trying to hit your new goal of 10,000 steps a day to start being active again, when your phone rang. You had answered it without a thought in the world since usually it was Derek, Hotch, and Emily on the other end. 
But this time, it was none of them. 
“Hello?” Spencer’s entire body froze once he heard your voice, once he knew that Diane knew who you were. 
“I just want her to see one more thing.” 
“Hello?” You asked again, just about to hang up, thinking it was some sort of prank call when a woman spoke to you. 
“Is this Doctor Y/N Y/L/N?” Maeve looked over at Spencer, confusion and horror in her eyes, while Spencer just stared at the phone, willing for you to hang up. 
“Um, yes? May I ask who this is…” 
“My name is Diane.” 
“Um, okay, Diane. Can I ask why you’re calling me.” You had just walked into your apartment, Spencer could hear the unfamiliar creek of the door as it slammed shut. 
“What do you know about Doctor Maeve Donovan.” 
Your whole body froze. “What?” barely even whispering out your response. 
“What do you know about Maeve.” Her temper exploded, and you just sat there trying to breathe. 
“Wh-what do you want to know about her?” You had taken several courses in negotiation, taught by David Rossi himself, so your training started to kick in, but your panic was fighting strongly against it. You just couldn't bring yourself to say her name.
The team was outside of the building, when Garcia had called and tapped them into the phone call Diane was making. When they heard your voice, all of them froze. This was not what she was supposed to do. How the hell did she even know about you? 
“I want you to tell me about how she ruined your life.”
Spencer tried to speak but Diane pointed the gun at Maeve, making him go silent. Maeve had started silently crying, unable to believe this is what her life had become. 
“I–, You want me to tell you about some woman I have never met?”
“Yes yes yes. Why won’t any of you fucking listen.” You recieved a text on your watch, from Hotch, briefing you on the fact that Diane had both Spencer and Maeve hostage in the warehouse she was calling from.
You took a shaky inhale before biting your lips. “I want to know that they’re both okay Diane. I need to hear both Spencer and M..Maeve speak.” God this was so fucking hard, it hurt so fucking badly.
Diane rolled her eyes before nodding at Maeve. “H-hi.” She whispered. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t—” she was cut off but the barrel of the gun pushed against her head. 
All you could do was clutch your fist while she spoke, because you realized you couldn’t be angry at her for falling in love with Spencer, because you had too. 
“And Spencer?” Your voice cracked out, desperate to hear his voice. 
“Go on Spencer. Tell her you’ve been okay without her.” 
Spencer winced and spoke up, dying for you to just hang up the phone. “I’m here Y/N.” 
The way he said your name made you want to curl up into a ball and die, but it wasn’t good enough for Diane. 
“Not good enough Spencer. Tell her how you ruined her life. She deserves to hear it from you since you broke her just like you broke me for loving the ONE WOMAN I DESERVED TO BE LOVED BY.” 
Spencer heard the sharp intake of your breath. He could hear you trying not to cry. After everything, he never wanted to hurt you, but clearly he had fucked himself over and over with every single decision he made. He knew you knew he was playing along with her fantasy, but he knew that you hearing these words would ruin your life more than any gunshot would. 
“Tell me Spencer.” You breathed out, knowing if he continued to play along, maybe he could make it out of this alive, regardless of everything that had gone on between the two of you. 
“Please.” Spencer turned to Diane. “She has nothing to do with this, let her hang up the ph–”
“If she hangs up, I shoot Maeve and let you watch as she dies.” 
And there it was. There was a small, awful part of you that wanted to hang up the phone right then and there. Let him suffer and feel the pain you had been feeling for months and months. Your silence was enough to let Spencer know you were struggling, which hurt him even more because that same small part of him knew he deserved it, forgiveness for you and all. 
The team listened to the silence, some of them waiting for the dial tone, others grieving the shit you put yourself through just for someone who didn't love you anymore.
“Would you rather I tell you how he ruined my life, just like he did yours?” You breathed out, finally saying something. The entire SWAT team, along with your team was listening in, everyone was waiting with bated breath to hear--everyone wanted to know.
Prentiss looked over at Hotch. “Hotch we can’t let her do this. It…”
But Hotch just shook his head. “If we hang up the phone, Maeve dies, and if nobody complies with Diana, both Spencer and Maeve die.”
Rossi spoke up. “You have to trust her, she’s negotiating. She’s buying us time. Whether or not we should be listening to this is the real question.” 
All of them went silent after that, a decision had been made. 
Diane’s face twisted into a smile. “I’d love too.” 
You closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath. “D-Do you know what it’s like, Diane, to walk into work every morning and have every single person who promises you they care about you over and over and over again just stare at you like you're some sort of wounded puppy? Watching as they handle you like a glass figurine that they all feel responsible for breaking, and yet the one person who threw you against the wall doesn’t even notice.” 
Diane huffed, but she nodded. ”Keep going.”
“Do you know how long we were together?” 
Spencer couldn’t decide who the question was for. 
“Tell me Spencer. Tell me how many days of her life you threw away just to love someone who you’ve never met before..”
He couldn’t look at Maeve. He couldn’t look at Diane. Your heart had given out right then and there, they had never even met in person. He had fallen in love with a woman he'd never seen before.
“Tell her Spencer.” You voice came out harsher than intended, your resolve was gone, but it made Diane smile even more, becoming comfortable with the taste of venom in your mouth. 
His voice wavered. “Five years, two months, nine days, and three hours.” 
You let out something resembling a controlled sob, which had Diane’s smile growing by the second. Maeve just stared at him, and Spencer couldn’t tell if she was horrified or upset or just sad. 
“You threw away over five years worth of love, to ruin my relationship?” 
“Diane.” You said suddenly, trying to get her attention back off of the two people she was holding hostage. 
“What.” She was starting to become irritated, ancy, waving the gun around more. 
“Want to know the worst part about it.” 
“If you tell it to me quickly because I’m running out of patience Y/N.”
“He’s making me transfer departments.” 
Your big secret was out. 
“What.” Spencer breathed out, the shock spread across his face. He couldn’t imagine the bullpen without you, and when he wasn't on the phone with Maeve, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. The days where you weren’t near him went by torturously slow, and all he could do was hope that you might look at him again, let him apologize, let him fix this. Diane watched as the pain flashed across Spencer's face, enjoying it.
The team all turned to Hotch, hoping that she was bluffing. But Hotch just looked down at the ground, confirming the awful truth. 
“I just finished putting in my transfer today.” You didn't know who you were explaining it to–the team, to Diane, or to Spencer, maybe all of them. 
“Being around him, knowing he doesn’t lo—” You went silent for a second before switching gears. “This was my dream.” Your lips started talking, and everyone listened intensely. “I trained specifically for the BAU. I got three Bachelors in worthless shit so that the FBI would spike its interest in me so that I could get into the academy and prove myself to Agent Hotchner. Prove myself to Jason Gideon. Then I went and got a PhD in Psychology with focuses in Trauma and Forensic Sciences. And I fucking loved it. I had finally proven to myself that maybe, just maybe, I was good enough. I finally found a place I belonged, with the people I belonged with. And I was so fucking good at my job Diane. You wouldn’t even comprehend it. But he took all of it from me. Every last bit of joy was sucked out of my body the minute he told me he didn’t love me anymore. The minute he didn’t even apologize for breaking my heart and ruining everything I worked so hard for. And then he still expected me to be at my best, getting pissed when I would be distracted, disrespecting me and my intelligence in front of our peers, our friends. He neglected our relationship, abandoning me when I needed him the most, and then expected me to love him all the same. The audacity is through the fucking roof.” 
Spencer was just staring at the phone, heart beating loudly in his chest. “And the honest to god truth Diane, the worst part of it all, I would forgive him in a heartbeat. I don’t even know why I would, I feel no fucking reason to forgive him, but I might as well. If he asked me to greet him on the tarmac and kiss him once this case is over and he survives, I might, just so I can remember how it felt to be loved. He barely noticed that I had stopped eating, or didn’t care enough to say anything. He didn't do shit when I would show up half an hour late to the jet because I was so exhausted that I fell asleep at my desk, because I haven’t slept in months. He just doesn’t care anymore and I’d rather die than step foot into Quantico again because losing him was already too much to fucking bare. I’d rather never see him ever again, if I can help it.” 
You exhaled, feeling the slightest weight off of your chest, but your words were calculated. The end of your rant held some truth to it, both you and Spencer knew that, but something about the last line of what you had said was bugging Emily. 
She turned to Hotch. “Rossi is right, she’s stalling.” 
“But?” JJ asked her, looking at the building, before looking back at Emily. 
“She’s trying to get Diane to shoot Spencer to save Maeve.” 
Just as the entire team realized this, they heard Spencer’s voice, steady and unwavering. “I told her not to come on this case because I knew she would have slowed us down.” 
Your brain shortcircuited as a hand came up to cover up your sob. Not because what he said was the truth but because Spencer knew what you were doing, and he was trying to do the same thing.
“She’s been useless ever since our friend was killed during a case almost two years ago. She’s barely intelligent, and all she does for this team, truly, is parade around with a positive attitude that gets on on everyone else's nerves because she could never put as much effort into anything as you clearly have.” 
Diane walked over to him, squatting down in front of him. “I want to hear you say it to her Spencer.”
Your mouth betrayed you as a soft whimper came through the phone. Spencer didn't mean all of this, he couldn't have, but hearing the words still burned you alive.
“I-I…You slow this team down, and I have always thought you were a waste of space. I never loved you…” And if it wasn't for the slight change in pitch right as he said never, Diane would have believed him, but she pulled away glaring at Spencer. 
“Liar.” She hissed at him. “Liar, Liar, LIAR.” 
All you could hear through the phone was a muffled struggle before a shot rang out. You heard a second one and heard Spencer land near the phone. You couldn’t make a single sound, conjuring up the worst scenarios in your head. You could hear him trying to negotiate with Diane. You could hear Maeve struggling to breathe. You heard him begging to take her place, you heard Diane screaming about Thomas Merton. 
You heard Spencer scream out wait before a gun shot rang out through the warehouse. Everyone was silent, for all you knew Spencer was dead. He had been shot agasin and killed, and the last thing you would have ever said to him was that you never wanted to see him again. But then, you heard Spencer start sobbing. The small twisted part of you came back and was so relieved that he was okay, that he was alive. But listening to the man you would die for cry over another woman’s body made your skin turn inside out. You had out your phone on speaker for your rant, leaving it on the counter. You reached for it, ready to hang up. But that’s when you heard your name. 
Spencer had sobbed your name. 
He scrambled over to the phone and frantically repeated your name over and over until you interrupted him. 
“Spencer.”
“I’m so fucking sorry.” He whispered, sitting against the wall unable to look at the bodies on the floor. "I didn't...I didn't mean any of it, I swear."
“Spencer. I–” You inhaled sharply. “It’s selfish but I’m glad you’re still alive.” You whispered out, causing Spencer to let out another sob. 
"Y/N I-I'm so sorry. I-Can you..."
“I-I can’t do this Spence. I’m so sorry.” You whispered, your heart shattering all over again. “I can’t….I’m sorry.” And with that, you hung up, leaving Spencer on the floor, heartbroken and sobbing, truly losing both women he had ever loved in the matter of seconds. 
"You will never know true pain until you look into the eyes of someone you love, and they look away." ~ Anonymous
Next Part
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Hii! Can I get a request with Hotchner daughter reader where she is like 5-6 years old, and she is "obsessed" with Reid and maybe Hotch a little jealous bc thats her baby and
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Aaron Hotchner X Spencer Reid X Daughter Reader
Request: Hii! Can I get a request with Hotchner daughter reader  where she is like 5-6 years old, and she is "obsessed" with Reid and maybe Hotch a little jealous bc thats his baby
Third person pov...
It was always a busy day in the Hotchner household, with Aaron Hotchner balancing his job as a BAU Unit Chief and his duties as a single father to his daughter and son But despite his hectic schedule, he always made sure to spend quality time with his children.
At the moment, Aaron was helping his daughter get dressed as she would be going to work with him today, Jack had school, Aaron had dropped him of earlier.
The two were currently in the little girls room, Aaron kneeling on the floor going throug his daughter clothes before her voice made him turn towards her.
"Daddy, can I wear my princess dress today?" the 5-year-old asked with wide, hopeful eyes, Aaron couldn't resist her adorable request and smiled.
"Of course you can, princess. But let's make sure you wear some comfy shoes too.' He carefully picked out a pair of sparkly flats for her to wear.
Once the 5 year offer as dressed the two headed out the door and to the FBI headquarters.
The young gurl was bursting with excitement as she followed her dad, Aaron Hotchner, to the BAU headquarters. Being five years old, she didn't really understand what her dad did for work, but you knew it was important and cool.
'Morning, Uncle Spencer!' The girl exclaimed as she ran up to the tall, lanky man standing at his desk.
"Good morning, Y/N" Reid smiled down at the girl, He loved spending time with Y/N she was a bright light at the office and always had the most interesting questions.
"Can I help you with anything today?" She asked with wide eyes.
Reid chuckled, 'Of course, you can help me with everything!'
'Y/N, come on, we have to go to my office,' your dad called out.
'Okay, bye Uncle Spencer!' Y/N waved as she followed her dad.
As the H/C girl walked through the office, she noticed her dad's colleague, Derek Morgan, staring at her and her dad with a smirk.
'What's so funny, Morgan?' Hotch asked, noticing his expression.
'Nothing, Hotch. Just admiring how much Y/N looks like her dad,' Morgan teased, winking at the girl.
They all watched in amusement as she turned to the man with a pout, "But I want to look like Uncle Spencer!"
Hotch laughed and ruffled his daughters hair, 'Trust me, Y/N, you're much cuter than Uncle Spencer.'
They both entered the mans office and he sat the girl down in a chair while he went through some paperwork.
'Hey, Y/N, do you want to help me catch some bad guys?' The dad asked, his serious tone making the 5 year old sit up straighter in her chair.
'Really?' Y/N asked with excitement.
'Of course, you're my secret weapon,' the dad grinned before handing his daughter a pen and a clipboard.
While Hotch worked on the computer,
Y/N scribbled on the clipboard, feeling very important. Suddenly, Y/N heard her dad's phone ring and his face fell as he answered it.
'What's wrong, Daddy?' Y/N asked, sensing his sudden shift in mood.
'Nothing, Y/N. Just a case,' Her dad replied with a forced smile.
'Is it dangerous?' The 5 year old asked with concern.
'Probably not, don't worry,' the dad reassured her.
But she could see the worry in his eyes. She knew it was a lie. The little 5 yrar old knew her dad's job was dangerous and didn't like the idea of him getting hurt.
'Uncle Spencer will keep you safe,' She said, still holding onto the belief that Reid was her protector.
Hotches tired face softened at his daughters words and he gave a small smile, 'Yes, he will.'
Y/N apent the rest of the day helping her dad at the office, keeping her mind off the case. But as the team headed out, the little girl couldn't help but feel a little sad that her daddy had to leave.
Before the tewm headed out Spencer walked up to the young child, he looked at her sad face and thought if something to cheer her up.
'Hey, why don't we make a deal?' Reid suggested, giving thr girl a gentle smile and holding her hand.
'What kind of deal?' She girl asked, intrigued her sad expression vanishing.
'You keep an eye on me and make sure I stay safe, and I'll do the same for your dad,' Reid said with a smile.
Y/N odded eagerly, 'Deal!'
Reid grinned and picked the young child up, both laughing he began spinning around many times before placing you back on the ground.
Both dizzy but smiles on their faces.
'Come on, let's go see what kind of trouble we can get into,' Reid chuckled as he took the girls hand again, they both made their way out of the office.
Y/Ns dad watched the two with a mix of amusement and jealousy. He knew his daughter adored Reid and he couldn't blame her. Reid was a great friend and role model, and he was glad to have him in his children's life.
But as the two of them walked around the bullpen, he couldn't help but feel a little left out. He was Y/Ns dad, after all. But he knew that she were in good hands with her Uncle Spencer, and that was all that mattered.
The end!
Hope you liked this oneshot, woo 2 in one night this is strange, decided to treat you guys to two of these oneshots I know you've missed them, I'm still working on getting through the rest of the requests but I will get through them thank you for your patience.
Sorry for this one being shorter than usual anyway sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.
Request are open!
Word count : 1016
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hotchfiles · 2 months
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ too busy being yours ❞ ─ a we could be love blurb
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pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!rossi!reader. summary: you're pretty much in love with your boss. and he's pretty into you too. but if being your boss wasn't bad enough, he's also your dad's best friend. content warnings: valentine's fluff! no romance involved tho. just friends being friends and sleeping into each other's embrace. as friends do. might not be totally inclusive to full italian girls (?). two idiots in love making rossi seem worse than he is. word count: 2k+. a/n: the bau!rossi!verse begins. i never proof read anything.
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being single during valentine's day was already bad, hearing your own father's romantic plans for the evening only made it worse. the humiliating truth of not having the same game as david rossi was daunting, but you didn't have the italian vibes to use in your favor like he did, and you were pathetically in love with your boss and that made every single man look awful in comparison.
"what about you baby rossi, any saucy plans for tonight?" your eyes shoot daggers at derek for making the question, bringing everyone's attention to your warm cheeks.
"apparently i have to look for a ride home, saucy enough?" your father shrugs with an apologetic glance at your answer, he usually took you home but wouldn't have the time to today. that's what you get for carpooling.
between dates and the bar, you were getting out of options and was about to accept your fate: you would have to take the subway. you weren't sure how spencer did it so often, specially with his particularity with germs and people, you absolutely hated it, it was too tiring, too loud.
you run up the stairs to get to hotch's office, handing him your reports, slightly out of breath.
"you were quick with these." it's a praise with a hidden quip: you were always the last one to hand yours, not only a natural procrastinator, but you were the last one to join the unit, you still struggled with some of the bureaucracy.
"trying to avoid rush hour, taking the subway today."
"i can take you home–" he seems surprised by his own response, or by how quick he offered that ride. your address is somewhere on your files but he doesn't truly know where you live. he couldn't even shrug it off saying it was on his way home.
"don't you have a date? i mean–wouldn't this make you late for anything?" you hope dearly that you didn't make it obvious that you just wanted to know if he was seeing someone. it's obviously too much to hope for, he knows.
and he smiles sweetly, softly. he tries his best to keep it innocent. "no plans today, just me, my bed... and some popcorn i think."
you chew on the inside of your cheeks softly thinking about your next move. hotchner had slipped through conversation earlier that jack had a sleepover planned, so by that logic, he would be alone, just like you. 
he wasn’t exactly subtly about his interest in you, but he somewhat tried to conceal it, asking him out on a date seemed too pushy. 
“those are exactly my plans… you could maybe stay over for a bit, then? maybe?” your eyes glow with the expectation as you ask him, fingers busy with your necklace to soothe yourself. “we might have to pick garcia up at some point of the night, though, if that’s okay.” you were always tasked with drunk penelope anytime you bailed on them as a punishment. 
you didn’t mind, drunk garcia was fun garcia, but if aaron accepted your invitation, you hoped there wouldn’t be any interruptions. 
movies and popcorn are innocent enough, that’s the first thing on his mind, it can be innocent, and even when he tries to talk himself down of what could lead to very bad bad choices, your mention of garcia tips him over the edge. it was just friends hanging out. definitely. 
“yeah… i mean, yeah sure, that sounds fun. i have to keep myself awake until later than usual in case jack calls me anyway.” you nod more to yourself and offer him a shy smile, just before he hands you more papers. “oh yeah–you’ve got yourself a few more work hours, though.”
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the ride to your place is anything but silent. your phone keeps buzzing, signaling the BAU gals group chat wants details of what’s happening but you and aaron barely notice it as conversation flows easily between you two.
you ask him about jack’s sleepover and the sleeping later ordeal and he tells you how on his first sleepover jack gave up and called him to pick him up at almost 1am. “when the fun was over he just wanted his bed. driving the moment i woke was a terrible experience.” 
that was years ago and he still waits for that clock to hit 1am before sleeping. just in case his baby needs him.
you can feel your insides turn into mush, the way he cares always from the smallest to the biggest ways reminding you of why falling for him was so desperately easy. “that’s incredibly sweet of you, aaron.”  
the informality catches him off guard, but he welcomes it, loving the way his name sounds leaving your lips. “he’s a sweet kid, much more cooperative than drunk garcia, i can assure you.” 
you laugh at his joke and it’s silent for mere seconds before he finally asks the question, the one question on his mind since you walked into his office earlier. why? why don’t you have a date? why aren’t you at the bar? how can you even be single?
“i don’t have a lot of free time, aaron. i’m… busy.” you both know that’s not a lie. but you could try to make time if you were interested, you could’ve gone out today. unfortunately, when you found yourself having feelings for someone, you couldn’t bring yourself to look for someone else. all the other men seemed so incredibly dull compared to the one taking you home, and you couldn’t but compare when you were with any other. 
“you had free time tonight.” he’s pushing it and he knows it. he shouldn’t be asking so many questions about your dating life, he shouldn’t pry when he knew himself well enough to be certain he wouldn’t make any moves on you. younger, beautiful, funny, smart… and the daughter of his closest friend. all the reasons he was so smitten were also the reasons he told himself he shouldn’t lead you on. 
you deserved someone your age, with no baggage, or at least one lighter than his. someone with more time to spare, who could take your mind out of the job and not keep you on it. and definitely someone who didn’t go to jazz clubs with your father. 
still, his hands are firm on the wheel, turning left to get to your house. 
“i’m not wasting my free time on guys i meet at bars on valentine’s day.” he smirks, finding a good spot to park his car without saying anything else. he’s delighted by your answers even though it isn’t fair.
he gets ready to leave the car but you stop him, tapping his thigh lightly (it sends shivers up his spine but he’s getting good at pretending not to feel it). “better get your go bag.” you see confusion on his eyes and that known furrowed brow directed at you. “you’re not gonna be comfortable in a suit. you can change to your spare.”
he hadn’t thought about that, it would definitely defy the purpose of a quiet relaxing movie night if he was all dressed up in his well known work attire. so he does as instructed and gets his go bag from the backseat, even though he’s getting more and more anxious by the second. the innocent friends movie night he made himself believe looking more and more like he was sleeping over. 
you give him the tour of your apartment–a gift from your dad when you graduated from the academy, not that anyone really needed to know how spoiled you were–and show him the bathroom where he could change. or shower. he has his go bag after all. 
you go to your room to do just that, trying not to let the thoughts of him possibly being naked and under your shower flood your mind as you take the quickest shower you’ve ever taken in your life. 
as you move from your own bathroom to your closet to get your pajamas you’re suddenly very aware of what’s really happening. you really did invite him to your apartment. this was a date. but it couldn’t be a date, did he see it as a date? being so very infatuated by him and knowing well he had some sort of interest in you was very very different than acting on it. your dad would kill you if he knew. and aaron. and you again, possibly, if he knew it was your doing to initiate it. 
instead of your usual thin fabric short shorts and tank top you wear to sleep, you decide to be decent, black silk loose pants, old university t-shirt, cotton robe, socks and fluffy slippers. anything that could maybe show you are totally just thinking about watching some fun movies with a friend. 
you take two blankets and two pillows with you as you leave your bedroom, the sound of the shower being turned off making your feet almost run to get everything ready. the couch turning into a bed with a bit of struggle to unfold it. you made sure each blanket and pillow were on each side of it, as far as possible from each other. 
popcorn! you need to make popcorn, that’s the first thing you think when you hear the door unlocking, going straight for the kitchen and putting a bag on your microwave. as it popped you got cheese strings and butter out of your fridge. if you couldn’t blow his mind in better ways, you could at least get him hooked to your special cheesy buttered popcorn. 
“i’m making myself way too comfortable, i think.” his voice is smooth and relaxed and when you look back he’s leaning into the frame, his hair is wet and he’s wearing matching black sweatpants and a hoodie you’ve never seen him wear. 
for a moment you just want to kiss him and forget about any debate morality could bring to ruin it, but instead you laugh and take the popcorn out of the microwave and drop its content into a bowl, spreading some butter on top and dropping a few strings of cheese on it before putting the bowl on the microwave. 
“casa mia è casa tua.” your italian is a bit rusty but it still works as a charmer, “go pick us the most terrible looking romcom you can find while i finish this.”
“romcom, huh?” he asks and you can just hear the teasing in his tone. 
“you didn’t think we were going for some documentary, right?” you use a spoon to mix the popcorn to the melted butter and cheese when it’s out of the microwave, and follow him to the living room, “we’re gonna eat this cheesy, buttered, absolutely heart-swelling popcorn and make fun of some terrible, terrible movie love tropes.”
you do just that, and it’s awkward at first, the both of you wanting to be closer but also not feeling like you should cross that barrier, but as the night went on, the more you shared that popcorn, the more laughs you shared, the closer you got on that couch, specially after he tried to rub his greased fingers on your face, making you do the same to him. 
one movie becomes two, and then three, and somewhere in between him telling you about the dates he would take haley as a teen, making you laugh at how sweet and romantic he always was, and you telling him about your first kiss and how terrible it was, you both fall asleep. your head on his chest, his arms around you. 
jack doesn’t call, and if emily tried to get you to pick up garcia you definitely didn’t see it. 
it’s the first time you both share such an intimate moment, and it is just that. sleeping in each other’s arms. aaron even wakes up in the middle of the night, 3am striking on the clock on your wall. he wasn’t even able to freak out and overthink anything about it, the comfort of your smell making him hug you tighter and close his eyes again. 
he could deal with it in the morning.
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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 8 months
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Hi! I was wondering if you knew any fics where when Derek finds out Stiles is his Mate and instead of out-right rejecting him or hiding it, he's just like "Yeah, okay, we're Mates." or something like that. Same on Stiles end too. I just need some fluff right now, please.
THANK YOU!!!
Sure!
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Werewolf Project by Anonymous
(1/1 I 2,468 I Teen)'
Stiles and Derek have to do a project together... about werewolves.
Protecting You by dreamedwriting
(2/? I 3,002 I Teen)
The night of the Hale Fire, Stiles Stilinski senses something off. He follows the feeling and as a result, saves the Hales.
(A Belated) Invite To Eternity by ussentercries
(2/? I 3,274 I Teen)
Derek didn't notice it at first. It started with Stiles staying a little later than everyone else after pack meetings.
An Eternal Bond by stereksterek
(6/6 I 13,528 I Not Rated)
The one where Stiles organizes five bonding activities for the pack that just end up bringing him and Derek closer + the one time Derek does the same for Stiles.
Ain't Nothing so Good as the Cake and Eating it by sofonisba_found
(15/15 I 51,001 I Mature)
Derek thinks he's doing alright in life, with his family at his side and a job he loves. Despite his family's concerns he remains adamant that he doesn't need a mate, afraid to take the risk of letting anyone close enough to try to hurt his family again. That is until he realizes that his true mate has been right under his nose for years, and that now through his inaction he may lose him.
Future Dreams by midnitekween
(13/13 I 73,956 I Explicit)
Stiles accidentally summons he and Derek's children from the future to the present.
He's Not Mine by Sunnee
(19/19 I 68,534 I Explicit)
Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.
The Moon Lives (In The Lining of Your Skin) by Quixoticity
(28/30 I 132,440 I Explicit)
Stiles is doing fine. Okay, so he didn't expect to be a single father to an infant daughter at the tender age of twenty-three, but it's working out great. And no, he didn't expect to be a curator in Beacon Hills Museum, where weird things happen with no explanation, but he's rolling with it. And he seems to have acquired a new brother now that his dad's gotten engaged, which, odd, but hey, Stiles is flexible, and there's no such thing as too much love, right?
But then the next twist comes in the form of mysterious new neighbour Derek Hale, who is both insanely angry at the world (it's possible he's murdered people with his eyebrows alone), and adorably good with children. He's also in possession of a truly excellent butt.
Stiles is doomed.
Settle Down by wearing_tearing, whatthehale
(19/19 I 153,180 I Explicit)
Stiles is a struggling author barely making ends meet.
Derek is a successful architect whose biological clock is ticking.
Enter a surrogacy agency, two packs, and a particularly sticky and toe curling heat week and you get a match made in heaven.
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jaidens · 9 months
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Ladies And Gentlemen, Will You Please Stand? With Every Guitar String Scar On My Hand Take This Magnetic Force Of A Man To Be My Lover
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pairing [s] : spencer reid x reader
warning [s] : | marriage | why ain't he my husband yet?! | spencer is so lover | I just copied the basic rite of matrimony soo
a/n [s] : requests are open
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Spencer is completely and half-heartedly nervous about the wedding day. His hands sweat and shake a week before, Derek ends up having to coach him on how to correctly act around you. He's worried about whether his knees lock on accident and he passes out on you, or if he sleeps in late on it and misses his own wedding. Spencer can't lie and say he hasn't read every single book on weddings, going back into the 1400s.
The best day of his life begins with his chosen groomsmen jumping on his bed and hyping him up early into the morning. Derek picks him up from his bed and basically throws him around. Spencer swears he's about to throw up every moment he gets ready. When he's in the shower, when he's getting his hair dried and professionally done, or whenever he's getting in his suit while his groomsmen are yelling and screaming about how stupid good he looks.
His mother and yours both sit down which alerts him to walk to the altar. Spencer's Mom is already on the verge of crying as he goes to the altar. It's covered with soft lace and flowers, everything you wanted. The entire venue is absolutely amazing and beautiful as he captures it in his mind. Eventually, his groomsmen walk down individually, as everyone stands. Derek walks down last a bit of a smile on his face and his hands together.
He pats Spencer on the shoulders, whispering in his ear to make sure to not lock his knees. He's absolutely worried, no matter how many things he knew about weddings. Your bridesmaids walk down the aisle next, clad in the beautiful colors you chose. Spencer thought about all of the mixing of colors and your eye for them was one of the things he loved. Derek is mumbling something behind him to Aaron, talking about how nice the venue had been. He smiled knowing that he had multiple people to help him in anything behind him.
Spencer is attempting to not let his nerves take over his head. He's twisting his neck to see things behind him, next to him, and the people that were invited and their plus ones. He takes the small handkerchief he was given to wipe the tears that start in the corner of his eye. All he's thinking about is you. The dress you might have chosen or the smile that you'll be wearing, and he swears it's everything he's lived for. He also thinks about this: what if he never chose to join the BAU? What if he went to a different part, ending up never meeting you?
Soon, he hears it, the Wedding March fills the sound of the outside. You wanted to have a string quartet, and so that's what he gave, and he was absolutely glad you chose it. The soft noises of violins, cello, and violas are playing in March. His back is turned to the preacher that stands there, asking him if he's ready. “I’m ready for her.”
As soon as he sees your father appear from the corner, he's covering his mouth and stifling his gentle sobs. Everything seems incredibly perfect. He's looking away in the hopes he won't start sobbing. Derek taps his shoulder and there you are, practically floating down the aisle with a soft veil covering your face. He has to cover his eyes and try not to lose himself when he sees you.
He's in love, in love with his best friend of fourteen years and his girlfriend and fiancee of seven. You have the biggest smile he's ever seen on your face as your father hugs you and walks away to his seat next to your mother and his. Everytime he looks up, he cries even more, You float further up to the altar and now you're right next to him, and holding your hands out.
“You look absolutely gorgeous.” Spencer whispers softly in your ear and you look up at him. “This is so amazing, and you look so handsome.” The moment is something he will remember for as long as he lives, seeing your eyes look into his and all he feels is love. Spencer never felt a love like yours, and the connection your souls had intertwined together. When you first started dating, he told you he had your names etched in hid heart and in the stars, and how nothing could possibly change his feelings.
The preacher begins the rite of matrimony. Spencer grabs your right hand and holds it in his hand. “I, Spencer, take you, to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life.” As soon as he finishes, he's covering his mouth and trying to pull himself together. You copy him, saying the same thing as him.
The ring holder hands you Spencer's ring and you slide it onto his ring finger. Spencer does the same and kisses your knuckles against his lips. He savours this moment and the intimacy he feels just by looking at you. He stares at the wedding ring and he realizes it's his mother's and he completely loses it. “Is that my Mom's ring?” He asks gently through soft sobs. You nod at him and you wrap your arms around his neck.
“Do you take Y/N to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?” The officiant speaks, looking into Spencer's eyes. “I do.”
You do yours and you say a soft, “I do.” The priest announces to you husband and wife. Spencer is instructed to pull the veil behind your head and he looks at your face. Your eyes are glossy and rimmed with tears and your smile almost false apart as you try and hold yourself together for him (and partly the wedding photographer.)
As soon as he hears the word kiss, he drops his hand on your lower back, and kisses you. Spencer pulls your leg up so it sits against his hip, and one of his hands stays on your thigh. No matter how many times he's kissed you before, he still begins to get breathless and his cheeks will heat up embarrassingly. He hears your guests clapping before you pull away. In under a second, you rush back into his lips.
Spencer remembers the day like yesterday as he holds you in his arms. He's weaker and frail than he was 47 years ago, but the same gleam in your eye and strong smile that takes over his heart. You're watching the television and laughing softly at whatever’s playing, but all he does is stare at you and the wedding pictures that are around the walls. He stared at the grandchildren that are drawing in the kitchen, and it reminds him of everything he had years ago.
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velvetcloxds · 1 year
Note
if you're too shy- dbf!derek morgan where he's secretly dating rossi's daughter and when she's in trouble the team goes in to help her and instead of running to rossi she runs to derek
BRAVE | D.M.
word count: 1k (I'm really trying to keep these short, I swear ksjc)
warnings: I'm in love with him, your honor (also the reader being in danger obvs)
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Derek wasn't sure how no one had realized just how absolutely shattered he'd been from the second they got that tape of you tied up and wounded, begging for help. He was sure it was obvious just how mad he was with worry, how on edge he was, how terrified he was- he blamed it on everyone else's worry, especially your father, if your father was even the tiniest bit focused on anything other than finding you he'd have put the pieces together immediately. He didn't care for it now, trying to hide how he felt, he wanted to find you, wanted to know you were safe and if he got his ass handed to him by Rossi in the process then so be it.
Truth be told, Rossi had noticed, everyone was worried, and everyone was on edge but it wasn't the first time they had lost someone on the team and though you weren't on the team, you were definitely part of the family. Derek, however, wasn't acting like he lost a team member, not close. Rossi would've had to be blind not to see the look on his face every time a lead fell through, the balled fists as he rewatched the video of you as if looking at it one more time would show him something new the team had missed, tell him something he hadn't heard, or the way his face showed such genuine fear when he first heard your voice- Derek was about as easy to read as the Sunday paper and Rossi, though not pleased at all with what that meant, had a feeling you'd be acting the very same if the roles were reversed.
Which is why, despite everything in him, Rossi was the one who volunteered to go first, check the rooms first, look for the unsub first, why he'd let Derek lead the team to look for you, why he'd let him go after the sound of your voice instead of the sound of a gun- if Derek's behaviour was anything to go by, you'd probably be wanting him anyway, it'd be him you'd be calling for from beneath your restrictions- and he was right.
You were crying, fighting against the restraints, fighting to feel him, to be free in a way that only his arms could free you and he was trying, gun discarded and knees on the bare concrete, cooing all the while as his tremored hands attempted to undo the knots.
"I'm trying, baby," he breathed, voice nearly as unsteady as his movements, barely keeping hold of his sanity as your crying intensified. "I know, sweet thing, I know, just one more second," and that's all it took before you were loose, the way you reached for each other was messy, reckless, senseless, you weren't sure how you'd tangled yourselves so quickly but you were on his lap, not a care for a single one of your injuries as you grabbed at his neck. "You're safe," he sighed, finally allowing the relive to find him, not concerned in the slightest for what the team would think as they rushed into the room behind him.
"I asked for you," you admitted, your voice a broken sound, hoarse from the shouting, trembling from the crying, not at all controlled. "In the video, it was stupid," you wanted to see him, pulling away with hands not delicate in the slightest as you cupped his cheeks. "Didn't want you to worry," you weren't thinking at all about who was listening, watching, trying to climb onto him even more, lean into him even more, eliminate the concept of space completely because you didn't want to be out of his arms for even a second ever again.
"You weren't stupid," he argued, his own hand mimicking yours as he brushed a thumb over your cheek, avoiding the scar that hid under dried blood, fuming at the sight, the only thing keeping him from beating the life out of the bastard who did this to you was the impossible grip you had on him. "You were brave, baby girl, so damn brave," he insisted and you nodded without thinking, entranced, exhausted, with the adrenaline leaving your system the ordeal was starting to catch up with you.
"Is my dad here too?"
"Right here," you looked over Derek's shoulder to find the pair of eyes that had been taking in your whole interaction, not at all expecting him to move forward and place a lingering kiss on the top of your hand, hand squeezing Derek's shoulder as he did so. "You think I'd let your guy over here take all the credit for saving you?" he mused and you managed a small smile, syncing into Derek's arms, body too heavy to stay upright any longer and of course, Derek was expecting the sudden slump and the nuzzle of your head into his neck as he lifted the pair of you up from the ground.
"We wanted to tell you," Derek noted as the medics moved you onto the gurney, connecting you to all the wires and machines, ignoring your whispered pleas for the time being. "She was scared."
"For you?" Rossi quipped, already knowing the answer, shrugging when your partner nodded guiltily, already moving to join you on the ambulance, instinct kicking in when he heard you begging for him, saw you reaching for him. "Don't think facing the father could be as terrifying as this," he tried a lighthearted comment, but it had a bite to it, tension still thick, nerves still soaring. Derek nodded again, looking down at you with eyes so full of love it was sickening.
"No sir," he agreed and smiled as you looked up at him with a big, dazed stare, a dreamlike look matching his own as you forced your entwined hands to your mouth to brush a light kiss to his knuckles. "Nothing could be as scary as losing her."
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smartycvnt · 4 months
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Another Life
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Title: Another Life
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Summary: Hotch introduces the team to his wife when a BAU case brings them close to where he settled down.
Word Count: 1240
Warnings: brief mentions of murder
The murders were making Aaron nervous. Foyet was long gone, and Aaron thought that he had moved on. Jack and Ash were none the wiser to the thoughts racing through Aaron's mind. To them, this was just a freak situation in a nearby city. It was something that Ash constantly reassured everyone that the city cops would be able to handle. Aaron had more than enough on his plate at the firm to worry about the bullshit happening half an hour away.
Aaron wished that his wife had been right, but then the call came in from Garcia. The BAU had been sent out after the bodies of more victims had been found. Whenever one of Jack's friends showed up on the autopsy table, Aaron had rushed over there to see what he could do to help. Legally, he wasn't sure what he could do, but Aaron wanted everything to be over as quickly as possible.
"It feels different looking down at the body knowing who it was." Rossi and JJ shared a look as Aaron stared down at the boy on the table. "Carter, he ate dinner at my house last weekend. He was on Jack's baseball team. I helped him fill out an application for a pre-college program last month."
"Aaron, I am so sorry," Rossi apologized. "We'll get this sick bastard before he takes another kid's life. Go home, be with Jack, I'm sure that he needs his father."
"My wife is with him. Ash has been a godsend," Aaron said. JJ looked surprised by the news that Aaron had remarried. JJ could remember the difficulties that Aaron had whenever he had tried dating before. "If you guys aren't too busy when this is all over, I'd love to have you over for dinner."
The offer to come and see where Aaron had been for the past decade or so had been happily accepted by the rest of the team. Even Garcia had hopped on an airplane to come and see Aaron and Jack. Aaron pretended not to be nervous about the whole ordeal, but Ash could see right through him. She could see the way that his fingers twitched as he watched the FBI issued black SUVs pull into the driveway.
"I know that I'm relatively new to the housewife side of things, but my cooking isn't that bad, is it?" Ash joked as she nudged Aaron's side with her elbow. Aaron glanced down at his wife, who was smiling at him in an attempt to get him to calm down. There wasn't anything for them to worry about. Ash was amazing, and the team would love her. If anything, Aaron knew that he only had to worry about Emily or Derek charming her away from him, not that they'd ever seriously do that.
"The ten pounds I gained should be reassurance enough." Ash smiled at Aaron's joke. He placed his hand over his stomach, which Ash knew for a fact was still in great shape. Aaron worked out like he was still planning on taking a fitness test for the FBI again. He was a great influence on her health and worked with her to get some exercise almost every single day.
"Are they here?" Jack asked as he raced down the stairs. Ash didn't think that she had seen him that excited to see anybody in a long time. Suddenly, she felt a little nervous. These people were very obviously important to her husband and son. Ash watched as Jack practically ran outside and began hugging the group of people that got out of the vehicles.
"Come on," Aaron said as he led Ash outside. She looked at each of them, who seemed so happy to be reunited with their old friend. Ash felt out of place, but she wouldn't have traded her place watching for anything. It felt like a blessing to see a sliver of Aaron's old life before he had been forced to move. He didn't like talking about Haley or his work before, and with the dark subject matter, Ash had just let it be.
"This is my mom, Ash," Jack introduced. He looked back at Ash, who was still taking a moment to compose herself. She had done everything that she could to build a relationship with Jack without forcing it, and it had paid off. She constantly worried about being too overbearing or not seeming to care enough, but for Jack to introduce her as his mom showed that she had been doing things just right.
"It's nice to meet all of you. Aaron isn't much of a talker, so I'm afraid that I don't know a lot," Ash said. She shook each of their hands as they introduced themselves. Aaron ushered everybody inside to eat the dinner that Ash had made for them that was sitting out on the dining room table. It was a bit cramped, but there seemed to just enough room.
Ash spent most of her night listening to the stories that everybody had to tell. Aaron looked so at ease around his old friends. Rossi was full of stories about Aaron's early days, and Ash wasn't the least bit surprised to learn that he had been uptight and overly serious to compensate for his initial lack of experience. JJ's stories about Aaron falling asleep at his desk working overnight sounded somewhat familiar, but it was a habit that Aaron had been slowly breaking himself out of.
"You guys are gonna come visit again, aren't you?" Jack asked hopefully.
"Definitely, and we'll work on talking your old man into coming to DC for a bit. Have you ever been Ash?" Emily asked. Ash thought that she liked Ash the most out of everybody. They were the most alike, both women who had focused on their careers to a personal detriment. Ash hoped that Emily got lucky and found someone like Aaron who could give her the family that she had always wanted, but kept pushing off.
"Nope, I haven't left the state actually," Ash answered. "Aaron lured me in with stories about foreign cities and exotic places."
"Well now you have to come out," Rossi decided. Aaron watched as they all planned a trip for him to come to DC in the summer. It scared him a little to go back to where he had lost his wife, but Jack had been asking to visit for a couple of years now already. Aaron wanted to give Jack everything, and there was no better way to set a good example for his son than to put his own fears behind him to make his family happy.
"Do you think that they liked me?" Ash asked hours after everybody had left as she got ready for bed with Aaron.
"I think they love you almost as much as I do. It's impossible not to," Aaron told her. Ash smiled as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"Yeah, you really did try keeping your distance. I guess you're not much of a lone wolf anymore, and I can't say that I'm too upset about it."
"Me neither," Aaron agreed. He really was glad that he had let go of his reservations and made the move to let things get serious with Ash. He would never forget Haley or let Ash replace her, but it was nice to have someone else there for him and Jack.
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sunsetreid · 7 months
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eight letters [ s. reid ]
— part three !
part of the ‘ back to school night ’ series
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find part two here !
pairing : teacher!Spencer Reid x single mom!reader
summary / prompt : Spencer realizes just how badly he messed up when (Y/N) lets her ex take Cassia to the school's annual New Year's parent-child dance
requested : kinda
genre : fluff & angst
warnings : age gap (8 years), angst (w a happy ending)
【 Spencer's POV 】
Nervous isn't the right word that Spencer would use to describe how he feels as he gets ready for the school's annual New Year's parent-child dance. He immediately volunteered to be a chaperone in hopes that (Y/N) and Cassia would make appearances at the dance.
The way he reacted when (Y/N) told him that she wanted to tell her daughter about them was not the right reaction. Staying quiet when (Y/N) thought he didn't want to make their relationship permanent was not the right thing to do.
Letting her walk out the front door of his apartment was the biggest mistake of his life up to this point. The look of hurt on her face when she left broke his heart, and he was the one that caused it.
It's a long shot of getting (Y/N) to talk to him at the dance, but he still dresses his best. He ties a black tie around his neck and flattens it against the white button-up. He wears black slacks to complete the look. Spencer goes sans jacket because it's a warm January night in Washington D.C.
With a soft sigh, he grabs his keys, wallet, and phone before he heads to the metro station to get to the school early so he can help set up the gym with the organizers and other chaperones.
He hates that he said any of those things to her. He hates that he implied that he doesn’t want their relationship to be permanent.
Spencer loves her. Spencer loves her daughter. He’d do anything to be apart of their family. He already treats Cassia like his daughter when outside of the classroom. He would love to be a father figure to her.
The dance starts at seven. Parents begin to file in with their kids right before. Kid friendly music begins to play throughout the gymnasium as families file in.
His eyes are practically trained on the door, waiting for (Y/N) and Cassia to come walking in.
“You know, you seem a little too focused on that door and not on the people already in the room,” one of his colleagues and closest friends says. Spencer looks over at Derek Morgan with raised eyebrows. “Who are you waiting for? You’ve gotten awfully close to Cassia (L/N) and her mother recently. Spending a lot of time outside of class with them. Leaving school with them. Are you waiting on them?”
Spencer sighs and goes back to looking at the door. His cheeks heat up a bit because he didn't realize that his friends noticed or that it was that obvious. “Aw, look,” Emily says with a smile. She reaches out and pokes at his warm cheeks. “He’s all flustered. Someone has a crush.”
He rolls his eyes and pulls his head away from his colleague. “It’s not a crush.”
“Pretty Boy’s in love,” Derek teases. Emily laughs on the other side of him. “How cute is that? Tell us about her, Spencer."
"I don't think there is a lot to tell right now," he admits. defeated. He hasn't told anyone what happened between him and (Y/N). "I royally messed up at Christmas. I don't even know if she is coming. I hope she is though. I need to talk to her."
Emily blinks and asks, "You asked to chaperone because you hoped Cassia's mom would come? So you could talk to her?"
"She hasn't been answering my calls or texts," Spencer tells both of them. "I don't know what else to do. I don't want to just show up to her apartment since we haven't told Cassia anything."
There's a beat of silence between the three of them before Derek says, "So there is something going on between the two of you? You just haven't told Cassia yet."
Spencer shakes his head. "It's why I royally messed up at Christmas," he replies. "I implied something I didn't mean and I let her walk out the door instead of saying something to stopping her. We haven't talked since Christmas Eve."
"You're in some deep shit, kid," Derek says. "For both your sakes, I hope she does show up."
He mumbles a "me too" under his breath.
It's close to 7:30 and Spencer is about to give up in waiting for (Y/N) and Cassia when he watches little Cassia run into the gymnasium. He smiles, then notices who her hand is attached to. It falters for a second before he notices which direction she's running in.
Cassia, being Cassia, runs up to Spencer with the biggest smile on her face. "Hi, Doctor Reid!" she says. "Daddy brought me to the dance."
Spencer's eyes flicker up to Cassia's father's face. Mateo holds his hand out to Spencer, who takes it and gives it a firm shake despite not wanting to touch him. "Nice to see you again, Doctor Reid," he says. "Cassia really likes you. You're all she talks about sometimes."
"I try to make class as enjoyable as possible," Spencer replies. "I'm surprised that I'm all she talks about sometimes."
Mateo smiles and looks down at Cassia. "She's mentioned that you have come over to her house to have ice cream and movie night sometimes," he tells Spencer. There's a hint of suspicion in his voice. Spencer notices it immediately. "She must really like you if she invites you over for ice cream and movie night with her mother."
"Will (Y/N) be joining you tonight?" Spencer asks since she was brought up in the conversation.
A sad Cassia replies, "She isn't feeling well so she asked if daddy could bring me to the dance. She looked upset when she dropped me off at daddy's house."
There's a pang of guilt in his chest. He's the reason she's so upset. She couldn't even bring her daughter to a dance that even she was looking forward to. Cassia even looks upset that her mother couldn't come.
That's because of him.
Spencer still needs to talk to (Y/N). She may not be here but Cassia is here, which means (Y/N) is home alone. The perfect opportunity for him to talk to her without Cassia running in and hearing anything.
"How about this?" Spencer begins to say as he crouches down to meet Cassia's eyes. "I go see if your mom is okay while you have fun with your dad. Would that make you feel better?"
Cassia nods. "She's always happier when you're around," she tells him. "Don't tell her I told you, but I think mom has a crush on you, Doctor Reid." A little giggle comes from the little girl.
"Don't tell your mom but I think I have a crush on her too," Spencer almost whispers. His voice returns to normal and he stands up. "I'll go check on your mom, okay? You need to promise me that you'll have fun with your dad while I'm away."
Without hesitation, Cassia grabs her father's hand and pulls him toward the dance floor where other parents are dancing with their child.
From across the room, Spencer meets Derek and Emily's eyes. He points toward the door to let them know he's leaving. Emily smiles and Derek nods. With their blessing, Spencer practically runs out the door.
The commute from the school to (Y/N)'s apartment goes by slowly. Spencer is fidgeting the entire time he's on the metro. He texts Derek to explain that he may or may not be coming back.
' Went to tell (Y/N) that I love her. May or may not be back. Wish me luck '
' go get her, lover boy '
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Spencer stands out front of (Y/N)'s apartment for ten minutes with his fist ready to knock on the door. He just stares at the door and listens to Grey’s Anatomy come from the other side while he musters the courage to knock.
He can’t let them go another two weeks without talking. He loves her and he doesn’t want to lose her. It would be the worst mistake he has ever made.
The threat of losing (Y/N) is the reason he raps lightly on the door. Grey’s Anatomy goes quiet and there are footsteps behind the closed door.
Spencer feels his heart shatter at the sight in front of him.
(Y/N) has red rimmed and puffy eyes. Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head. She’s wearing the t-shirt she left his apartment in that day.
“What are you doing here?” (Y/N) asks. Her voice is hoarse and weak.
He tries not to let the heartbreak and guilt show on his face. “You didn’t come to the dance,” he softly says. “Cassia told me you didn’t feel good so I wanted to come check on you. I also wanted to come talk to you.”
She just stares at him. “Now you want to come talk to me?” she snaps. “It’s been two weeks, Spencer. If you really wanted to talk to me, you would’ve already. If you don’t mind, I want to be alone so you can go back to your dance.”
As the door shuts, Spencer makes an decision that’s going to end really badly or really good.
He shoves his foot between the door and the wall to keep it from shutting.
“I love you,” he blurts out. He gets nothing but silence at his confession. “(Y/N). I am in love with you. I’m so sorry that I implied that I didn’t want this to be a permanent thing because I do. It’s because I love you. I want to be with you. I want this to be a permanent thing. Please. I’m sorry.”
There is more silence for a moment before the door slowly creaks open. (Y/N)’s big eyes look at him when her head peers around the wood. He sees they’re wet and tears threaten to spill over to her cheeks.
Spencer frowns at the sight of her tears.
“If you love me then why did you imply that you didn’t want this to be permanent?” she asks. Her voice shakes as she talks. “You seemed so freaked out about telling Cassia.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that I didn’t want this to be a permanent thing,” Spencer tells her. “I do. I want to tell Cassia because you're right. She does adore me. I’d do anything for us to be permanent and to be a little family. (Y/N), I am truly sorry. I know it sounded like I didn’t want to be with you for the long term, but I do. I love you, and I love Cassia. You’re it for me, (Y/N). You're both it for me. I love you. Both of you."
He watches her bottom lip wobble before tears roll down her cheeks. "You're not lying to me, are you?" (Y/N) questions. "Because I swear to God, I will never speak to you again if you're lying to me about-"
With a sudden surge of strength and confidence, Spencer pushes the door open and crashes his lips to hers. His hands cup her jaw and his fingers curl into her hair. He feels his thumbs get wet with her tears.
He pulls her flush against him, but it still takes her a few seconds before she touches him. Her hands wrap around his wrists and she leans into him to deepen the kiss.
Spencer pulls back from the kiss and he rests his forehead against hers. (Y/N)'s eyes are closed but tears are rolling down her cheeks. He wipes them away with his thumbs. "I would never ever lie to you about loving you, (Y/N)," he whispers to her. "Either of you."
"I'm sorry for ignoring you," (Y/N) replies with a shaky voice. She pulls her head back and meets Spencer's eyes. "I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions. I just got nervous. There have been so many guys that I've introduced to my daughter and they ended up ending the relationship because they didn't want a ready-made family. I'm very protective of her and I need to protect my own heart."
"I know," he replies with a nod. "I understand that and where you're coming from. You don't owe me any apologies, (Y/N). I really didn't mean to imply anything because I do love you and I want to be with you for the long term. I wouldn't lie about that."
(Y/N) wraps her arms around him and puts her nose into his chest. Spencer buries his face in her hair and sighs. He wraps his arms around her neck like he's protecting her.
After a moment of silence between them, (Y/N) mumbles, "I love you too. It hurt to be away from you. I hated ignoring your texts and calls. All I wanted to do was talk to you, but I was scared."
A small smile forms at her confession. "You needed time, and that's okay," he tells her. "Take as much time as you need."
"I think two weeks is enough time," (Y/N) states as she lifts her head up. She sniffles and Spencer leans down to kiss away the tears that have slipped down her cheeks. "I want you here, Spencer."
"I think we should tell Cassia," Spencer replies. "If you still want to. I completely understand if you want to wait again."
She smiles. "Do you think they're still at the dance?"
"Probably, since it doesn't end until nine," he answers. "What are you thinking?"
"Give me a few minutes to get ready and I'll drive us to the school."
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Nervous is the right word Spencer would use to describe how he feels walking into the gym after his talk with (Y/N). He has a beautiful woman attached to his arm and they are about to tell her daughter that they are in a relationship and have fallen in love with each other.
He's more nervous than he was when he transitioned from being an FBI profiler to an elementary school teacher. Spencer has no idea how Cassia is going to react to seeing her mother and her teacher together.
Right outside the gymnasium, Spencer stops them. (Y/N), now with a face-full of makeup and a beautiful dress on, looks up at him. "Are you okay?"
"Um, I have to admit that I'm a little nervous," he replies. "I mean, I want to tell her, but I'm terrified of her reaction. And her classmates' reactions."
(Y/N) walks and stands in front of him. "She loves you, Spencer," she assures him. "Who cares what her classmates think? We're in love."
He laughs as his girlfriend gets on her tiptoes and pecks his lips.
"She's always happier when you're around" is what Cassia told him before he left. Spencer is seeing that now. She has been all smiles since they talked.
With (Y/N)'s assurance, he hooks his arm with hers. "Let's go."
The two of them walk into the gym together. Parents are dancing with their kids on the dance floor. Others are eating at the tables.
Spencer looks around the room. He sees Derek and Emily smile at him when they see (Y/N) on his arm. They're huddled near the dance floor with JJ and Penelope, who must have gotten to the dance right after Spencer left to go talk to (Y/N).
"Mom!" a little voice shouts over the music. "You're here."
Cassia practically throws herself into her mother's arms. (Y/N) leans down and picks her up after letting Spencer's arm go. She sits Cassia on her hip. "I'm here," she tells her daughter. "Thanks to Doctor Reid."
He loves when (Y/N) calls him by his title. He can't help the smile that forms on his face. "I told you I'd talk to her, didn't I?" he asks Cassia. "I managed to talk her into coming to the dance. I'm good at what I do."
Mateo walks up to the three of them. "Should I be heading out?" he asks as he looks at them. "The three of you look really cute."
"No!" Cassia exclaims as she scrambles out of (Y/N)'s arms to get to her father. "All my favorite people are in one room. I don't want you to go." She wraps herself around Mateo's waist. "Please don't go."
(Y/N) smiles and crouches down so she's eye to eye with her daughter. "Cassie, can I tell you something?" she asks. Cassia nods and turns and stands in front of her mother. "Remember how I told you that I really like someone and that it was someone that you knew?" Cassia nods again in reply. "How would you feel if that person that I really like was Doctor Reid?"
A wide-eyed Cassia looks up at Spencer then looks back at (Y/N). "Is Doctor Reid your boyfriend?" she asks. When (Y/N) nods, Cassia turns to Spencer with a serious look on her face. "You better take care of my mom, Doctor Reid. I wasn't kidding when I said that she's happier when she's around you."
"Don't worry," Spencer begins to say. "I'm happier when I'm around your mom, and you too. I promise I'll take care of your mom."
"Does this mean I'll ace every test for the rest of the year?" Cassia asks.
(Y/N)'s jaw drops. "Cassia (L/N)," she sternly says. "Just because your teacher is my boyfriend does not mean your get special treatment. He told me he's still going to treat you like every other student in class.”
Spencer can’t help but laugh. “You’re already my smartest student, Cassia,” he tells her. “You don’t need special treatment to ace your tests.” A bright smile forms on Cassia’s face.
“Do I get to call you Spencer outside of class now?” she asks.
“That’s all up to you,” he says. “In class, call me Doctor Reid though.”
She nods and looks up at Mateo, asking if they can go dance. He says they can do they run off to the dance. (Y/N) stands back up and hooks her arm with Spencer’s.
Spencer watches Mateo and Cassia dance on the dance floor. He feels (Y/N) rest her head on his shoulder. He looks down and sees the biggest smile on her face.
He turns his head and pecks her forehead. “That went well,” he comments. (Y/N) hums in reply. When he looks back up, he sees Derek, Emily, Penelope, and JJ all walking up toward him. “I am so sorry for what my friends say to you.”
“Aw, she’s so pretty,” Emily says. She holds out her hand for (Y/N) to shake. “Emily Prentiss. Fifth grade teacher. I can’t believe Reid managed to find such a pretty girl like you, or that you are into the whole nerd look.”
Spencer’s cheeks heat up as (Y/N) says, “The whole nerd look does it for me. My favorite look is when he’s wearing his glasses and is so focused on the work that is in front of him.”
He looks down at her and she rests her chin on his shoulder. Spencer brushes away the strand of hair that has fallen into her face. “Good to know,” Spencer says.
“This is so cute,” JJ says.
“Pretty Boy is in love,” Derek comments. “I’m gonna start calling you Lover Boy, Reid.”
Spencer’s eyes widen. “I beg you not to,” he replies.
Penelope hooks her arm with (Y/N)’s and says, “We are going to be best friends.” She pulls his girlfriend away from him. Penelope walks off with (Y/N), Emily, and JJ.
He watches his girlfriend and some of his closest friends bond while they get a drink from the table. He can’t help but smile at the sight.
“So, I guess tellling her that you love her went well,” he states as he looks over at Spencer. “You look at her like she’s the only person in the world. It’s cute. I’m happy for you, Spencer.”
“She loves me too,” he replies. “Despite messing up at Christmas. I get why she didn’t talk to me for a couple of weeks. I wouldn’t want to talk to me either it I implied that didn’t want a long term relationship.”
Derek lightly punches Spencer in the shoulder. “That is for almost ruining what might be the best thing to ever happen to you,” he tells Spencer. “If you want to get out of here though and go start making it up to her, go ahead. We got it from here. I’m sure Cassia’s dad wouldn’t mind having her over for the night.”
He looks back at (Y/N) with Penelope, JJ, and Emily. All four of them are laughing. “She’s making friends at the moment,” Spencer tells Derek. “When she’s ready to leave, she can come find me. Ask Mateo if he can take Cassie for the night. She’s so happy right now. I don’t want to pull her away from that. Especially after the last few weeks.”
“You’re right,” Derek agrees. “Let me know when you head out.”
He nods and Derek walks off to go help a parent with something. Spencer’s eyes land back on (Y/N).
Sometimes he doesn’t know how he got so lucky. She is stunning with her little black dress and curly hair. He doesn’t understand how he managed to get a woman like her to fall in love with him.
“Doctor Reid,” a little voice says, bringing him out of his head. He looks down to see Cassia standing next to him. “Do you love my mom?“
Now he knows why Cassia is so smart. Her mother is.
“Yeah, I love your mom,” Spencer replies. “How did you know that?”
“You look at her like you love her,” Cassia observes. “I know she loves you too. The way she talks about you sometimes is gross.”
Spencer laughs and (Y/N) makes her way back to the two of them. “You two look like you’re bonding,” she states. “I don’t need to worry about you two hanging up on me already, do I?”
“Unfortunately, we’ve already done that a few times,” Spencer admits. “Sorry.”
She laughs and looks at Cassia. “Would you mind spending the night with your dad tonight?” she asks. “I think that Spencer and I need to have a little adult time tonight.”
Cassia gets super happy and nods. She runs off to her dad and Spencer looks at (Y/N). “Adult time?”
“A lot of adult time,” she replies. “Plus, I still need to give you your actual Christmas gift.”
“Oh, the outfit and the sex wasn’t my Christmas gift?”
(Y/N) shakes her head and wraps her arms around his neck. “Part one of your Christmas gift,” she tells him. “I think you’ll like part two though. Do you want to go see what it is?”
He nods and lets her lace her fingers with his. He catches Derek’s eyes and points at the door with his free hand. Derek gives a thumbs up so he knows he saw the point.
Spencer follows her to the car. Her heels clicking away on the pavement. Her curls bounce as she walks, and Spencer finds himself completely amazed by the fact that she loves him back.
This beautiful, intelligent woman who saves lives actually loves him back without his fancy FBI job and nerdy looks.
After Christmas Eve, he isn’t so sure he deserves her love. He definitely doesn’t deserve her forgiveness.
Inside (Y/N)’s car, Spencer leans over the center console when she is settled in the driver’s seat. He turns her head and captures her lips in a soft kiss. She smiles against his lips for a second before pulling back.
“What was that for?”
“I just …” he trails off. “I’m amazed by the fact that you love me. I don’t think I deserve your forgiveness either. I wouldn’t forgive me after what I said.”
(Y/N) shakes her head and takes Spencer’s hands in hers. “My love for you trumps any hatred or anger I’ve had towards you for what you said,” she tells him. “As angry as I was, I knew it wouldn’t last because I love you. Now I know you didn’t mean it so I forgave you.”
Spencer looks down at their connected hands. “I’m not good at this, (Y/N),” he whispers. “I’ve never had a meaningful relationship that lasted more than a few weeks. I don’t know how to do this.”
She dips her head down to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to know everything, Spencer,” she tells him. “We can learn together, okay?”
“Okay.”
(Y/N) lifts his head up and Spencer sees sincerity in her eyes. She runs her fingers through her hair and gives him a small smile. “I love you, Spencer Reid,” she tells him. “I think I’ll always love you. You better not break my heart.”
He shakes his head. “Never.”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
a/n - one more part after this. hope i made up for how the last one ended :)
MASTERLIST
REQUEST GUIDELINES
PART TWO | PART FOUR (coming soon)
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