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aperrywilliams · 1 month

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From Now On (Spencer Reid x Pregnant!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Pregnant!Reader.

Summary: After faking his death for seven months, Spencer is back just to find out you’re eight months pregnant. After the initial commotion and your denial, you both step into the apartment you used to share. Things have changed and you must talk about it.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort. Talking about gunshots, blood, hospitals, faking death, pregnancy symptoms, potential abortion. If I missed something, let me know.

A/N: I’m back! I don't know for how long, but I needed to do something to fight my writer's block. This story can be read independently, but it is the second part of Seven Months.

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The cab ride to your apartment is mainly silent. Your head is tucked into Spencer's shoulder as he rubs your back from time to time. His nose is buried in your hair, inhaling your scent. God, he had missed it so much. He had missed you so much.

And he missed so much of your life in the past seven months. And that scares the shit out of him.

How would he fit into your life now? Does he have any right after faking his death and not telling you anything?

Rossi and Morgan told him you would understand eventually. That you would forgive him for doing this to you.

And maybe you are really considering. Maybe that’s why you went for him to Derek’s in the middle of the night.

Spencer wants that more than anything, but he feels like he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.

Now you both are in front of your building complex. The one that used to be his too.

Spencer knows the concrete walls are the same, but they don't feel like they are.

It's a strange feeling. A feeling that gets stronger when you open the apartment door.

Stepping inside, he knows this is where he used to live, but it doesn't look the same.

The shelves are no longer full of his books. Gone is his globe and coins collection that usually laid over the desk. There are just a couple of pictures of him with you on the wall. The decoration is different. Did you paint the place? Spencer is almost sure of that because it looks brighter than he remembered.

He's silent, inspecting everything around him. The walls, the bookshelf, the furniture: all changed.

After you take off your coat and hang it on the rack, your eyes follow him.

You know what’s going on. You have known Spencer for so long. Even if you thought you lost him, you still can read him like a book.

“Hope isn’t look too bad. I needed to, you know, make some changes?” you explain, not sure how to put the last months in words. Spencer turns to look at you, guilt written over his face. He knows what your words imply and remorse eats him alive.

“I - I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sure it's not enough to erase the hell you have been through since he were gone. Since they told you he was dead.

“I know.” Your response is short but not because you don’t have things to say. It's because you don’t know how to start. “Uh. Would you like some tea?”

It's the safest path. The one you both usually have taken the times you had fought and then try to speak it off. It's different this time, though.

Spencer hesitates. In other circumstances, he would agree and sit on the couch to talk. But it's late, the day has been a rollercoaster and you are eight months pregnant. He knows you should be sleeping, or resting at the very least.

“Maybe it's better you go to bed? It's late and you must be tired,” he points, nervously fidgeting with his hands, his gaze shifts between your eyes and belly.

“Honestly? I don't think I could sleep tonight even if I try,” you confess, moving to the kitchen to put the kettle.

”I don't think I could sleep either,” he admits, following to the kitchen. He wants to help, but he doesn’t want to look like an intruder in your space. A space that it’s not his anymore. Noticing Spencer doesn't know what to do with himself, you invited him to take a seat on the barstool.

“It will be ready in no time, don’t worry.”

You are the one who endured months of grief from your fiancee, carrying his child, and you are the one comforting him. Spencer thinks it's not fair.

In silence, he looks with raptor fascination at the way you move around the kitchen. It's delicate and calm. You have a glow that captivates him. You don’t realize his gaze until you turn to put the mugs over the counter.

“What?” you question softly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, eyes entranced in you. You laugh, shaking your head.

“Come on, Spencer. I look like a mess. This belly reaches everything minutes before I can. It's huge! I can barely walk decently. Look at my hair! And my skin. It's sticky all the time.”

As you ramble about why isn’t accurate to call you beautiful, Spencer stands from the stool and rounds the kitchen counter to step in front of you. He wants to reach for your hands that you’re waving in the air to emphasize your point, but refrains. He’s still unsure about initiating physical contact. He rests his hands on the counter and clears his throat.

“I can certainly say it's not the way you are used to feeling. But the way I see you right now? I see beauty, power, and life. It's light what I see on you.”

You don’t know when tears started to roll down your cheeks. But hearing the adoration in Spencer’s words only spurs you to let out your emotions.

“You know my hormones have been doing a number on me, right? You’re not helping,” you complain, chuckling. After handing Spencer his tea, you take yours and walk to the living room.

You carefully sit on the couch and reach for the blanket in the back to cover your lower half. Spencer mimics your actions, sitting as well on the couch, but at a safe distance from you.

A silence envelops the room. Your hand plays with the strands at the end of the blanket, and your eyes scrutiny Spencer’s face. He looks tired, with prominent circles under his eyes, and stubble for days of no shaving.

He is analyzing you too. Even if your eyes denote exhaustion, he can see the strength that makes you look put together despite everything that has been going on.

He can see the protectiveness too. Rubbing your belly in soothing motions, shielding your non-born child from the unknown, the uncertain.

How much he would have given to be the one who could have protected you and the baby from the first minute.

“I guess you have questions,” you prompt. “But I have mine too, so if you don’t mind,” you trail off and Spencer understands what you want. He nods, preparing himself to answer whatever question you have. After a pause to collect your thoughts, you start to speak again.

“What really happened in that warehouse? Why you didn't let me go inside with you?”

You are talking about the day Spencer was shot and beaten for the unsub. The day he ended up at the hospital just to be declared dead hours after.

“I thought if we didn't split we could lose him. We were so close so many times. I thought it was our last chance. It never occurred to me it was a trap. That he wanted me there alone. I just didn't see it,” Spencer swallowed hard, remembering that day. You stayed in silence, waiting for him to continue.

“I heard his voice telling me he had you, and I panicked. So I ran to him. I let my guard down. When I realized he was lying it was too late.”

“But you launched at him. Why didn't you try to stall him first?” You asked, leaving your mug on the coffee table, feeling the suddenly urge to protect yourself with your arms around you. You never talked about what really happened with anyone. Not even to Hotch when he questioned you during the FBI investigation of the incident.

The way Spencer reacted with the unsub is something you never understood. The profile said the unsub was a guy who liked to show off, so trying to incite him to do that while waiting for backup would have been reasonable.

“The way he laughed. Maybe sounds stupid, but- I saw the resolve of an end game, and not like the typical bragging-end game, it was an evil-end game. He had the upper hand and he knew it. If I didn't do something first, he would have gone after you. And I couldn't let that happen. I didn't count on the hidden gun, though. Another mistake,” he breaths out.

You remember like it was yesterday rushing to the warehouse after hearing two gunshots. Once inside you saw Spencer lying on the floor, in a pool of blood.

“You were there and I didn't know what to do,” you recount your side of the story. “It was the worst nightmare. I screamed for help and it felt like an eternity before someone came to us. And your eyes-” You stop for a second, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “You - you were saying goodbye and I wasn’t ready.”

Your resolve from earlier seems to crumble as you revisit what happened in that warehouse. Tears are now rolling down your cheeks, and you bite your bottom lip to stop their quivering.

Spencer wants to hold you, but he’s afraid of how you would react, so tentatively rests his hand on your knee. You are shaking and he’s worried this conversation could do more harm than good.

“We can stop. You are not feeling okay,” he points out. But despite Spencer's apprehensions, this conversation must happen now.

“I need to get this out of my chest. Please, let me do this. I know you need it too.”

Spencer knows you are right. You both need this.

“Do you remember anything after the shots?” you ask, and Spencer thinks for a moment.

“I remember being there, the sharp pain in the chest and my ribs. But most of it is a blur. I remember seeing you there. Crying. God. I hated seeing you cry. I think you held my hand?”

You nodded. “I was so scared, but with you there, I wasn’t anymore. The last thing I remember it’s the guilt of not saying I love you for the last time. I really thought it was the end for me,” he admits, his own tears blurring his sight.

“It was for me, though,” you mumbled, a sad look in your eyes. “I mean, I still had hopes when you were moved to the hospital, but deep down I knew I shouldn’t have had them. And everything shattered when JJ came to the waiting room and told us you didn't make it.”

A heavy sigh escapes from Spencer’s lips. Neither JJ nor Hotch had told him how they let it know the team he was ‘gone.’

“I can’t even imagine - It was unfair to you. And I know no matter what I say it won’t make it better.”

Your thoughts wander to the moment after you heard JJ saying Spencer was dead.

Disbelief. Pain. Denial.

And then, days of numbness.

“You know. I just shut off. I have some flashbacks. Rossi hugging me; Hotch telling me to take all the time I needed; Morgan crying with me.”

It feels weird to recall those memories as yours, like an alternative universe that turned different at the end.

“Where did you go?” Spencer asks. The thought of you in the apartment alone after that breaks his heart.

“Emily took me to her place because I couldn't put a foot here. I stayed with her for a couple of days. She helped me a lot to get through this,” you recognize. And for that, you will always be grateful to her.

You also tell Spencer about how the whole team helped you to make it through the days. Some kind of relief washes over him knowing you didn't face it alone.

He can’t fathom how difficult it was for you, also knowing you were pregnant. And about that...

“When did you find out?” He asks, eyes darting to your belly. You follow his gaze trajectory and a little smile creps on your face.

“Almost a month later. I was feeling sick all the time. Emily pushed me to get checked. They took blood tests and stuff. When they told me I couldn't believe it. For me, it was a twisted joke,” you admit, hanging your head low.

Spencer dreads asking the next question but you already know what is, so you keep talking.

“Yes. I had thought about it. I didn't feel in a good place to be a mom, Spencer. I barely could make it through the days. And having a baby? Fuck, just thinking about it was too much.”

You tell him about how you cried your eyes out. How lost you felt for days. The doubts about the future, but above everything, the protectiveness that aroused in you once the idea settled. Yeah, you couldn’t keep Spencer safe, but you were determined to save the part of him growing in you.

“And seven months later, here I am. About to give birth to our baby,” you conclude, lovingly rubbing your belly.

“It’s weird, you know?” Spencer begins. “The last time I saw you and now. It feels like I lost time. And I know I lost it. It’s just - I never expected to see things so changed. I don’t know how I fit here. What I’m saying doesn’t make any sense right now-” he trails off, darting his gaze to the fidgeting hands on his lap.

He’s been holding back. You notice. Since you both crossed the threshold he has been afraid of invading your personal space, of touching you. Now it makes sense.

“That's why you have been keeping your distance from me?” you ask. Spencer’s eyes quickly flash to you. Guilt is written on his face.

“What?”

Your gaze soften seeing him so stressed by being caught. It's true the past months have been tough for you, but they have been tough for him too. And to see a before and an after so different probably has him reeling.

“Since we put a foot in this apartment you have kept a safe distance. I’m not judging you, I really don’t. I just want to know what’s on your mind right now,” you explain, shifting on the couch to change your position. With an eight-month belly is difficult to be comfy in any position.

Spencer sighs. There are so many things revolving inside his brain that it’s not easy to put them in words.

“When I woke up in a hospital bed in Bethesda, the first thing I looked for was if you were there. But I was alone. A strange feeling squeezed my chest. For a moment I thought -” he pauses to take a breath. “I thought everything had gone wrong and the unsub had hurt you or the team, or both. I was about to freak out when a marshal came and explained to me what happened.”

Spencer recounts how the agent told him about his new destination and how this assignment was for an undetermined time.

“Since then, not a single day passed without the urge to take a plane and come back. To you. But what if I messed up putting you at risk doing so? It was insane to know I was dead for you and I couldn't do anything to fix it.”

“That's why you wrote the letters?” Spencer nodded. In a notepad, he wrote a letter to you every single day since he landed in Paris. He handed you the notepad at the BAU this afternoon before you stormed out, completely shaken and confused.

“I needed to put in words each day without you. I needed to tell you I was there, even if you never could read it.”

His shaky breath forces him to take some seconds to compose himself. You took that as your cue. Shifting again, you scoot a bit closer to him and reach tentatively for his hand, and he clings to it as if his life depended on it.

“And I’m here right now. And so do you,” you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I’m as scared as you are, but we need to do something to get through this. If it is something you want to do,” you add. Spencer's glassy eyes find yours.

“It's all I want. Maybe it's hard for me to understand I can’t fix something like this, but I want a chance to make us work again. I know I can’t get back time, but if you let me I want to gain back the place I lost the day I gone.”

Spencer’s free hand flies to your cheek to wipe with his thumb the tears you haven’t noticed are falling.

“We can start with something,” you prompt, reaching for a folder resting at the coffee table. After opening it, you produce a bunch of ultrasound pictures and hand them to him. From the first appointment you had, to the last one from a week ago.

Spencer’s eyes sparkle with excitement, seeing every detail and the way the baby has grown in the past months.

Tears fall freely and there is pure emotion that fills his heart.

So many nights you both spent talking about what it would be like to have a baby. How wonderful it would be to see them grow. About what traits they would inherit from each of you.

You smile at the scene unfolding in front of your eyes. It feels so good to see in him the same excitement you have. You both wanted this. And until today you thought only you would get the chance to experience it.

After inspecting and committing to memory each detail from each pic, Spencer’s eyes find yours again.

“Do you know the baby’s-” he trails off. He’s unsure, maybe you didn't want to know or want him to know.

You have known the baby’s gender for a while now but have not told to anyone. From the same folder, you extract an envelope you offer to him. With trembling hands, Spencer takes it and gets the paper from inside. Scanning the words he realizes it is the information of your baby’s gender.

“It's - it's a girl,” he reads aloud with a cracking voice and more tears in his eyes. You nod, your own tears clouding your vision.

“Yes. Do you remember when we talked about having a baby and you told me you wanted a girl? When I found out the gender, I thought about how happy you would have been,” you sniffle, and Spencer reaches for you, now wrapping you in a loving embrace.

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” he repeats over and over, kissing your temple. You close your eyes, losing yourself in his chest, inhaling his scent.

You stay like this for a moment. Contently in each other arms. Spencer still can’t believe he got the chance to hold you again, and you are still assimilating the day’s events. It's unbelievable how everything changed in less than twenty-four hours.

“I love you,” he mumbles in your hair, a hand moving to rub your belly. “And I love you,” he says now, talking to your baby.

“We love you too, Spencer,” you respond, voice thick with emotion. “I never stopped, and we will never stop.”

Parting from your embrace, you get lost in each other's eyes. Communicating without words what this moment means to both of you. Cupping your face, Spencer leans to find your lips with his in a loving kiss. You kiss him back, pouring all your feelings.

It's a new promise of love.

After breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead to yours.

“Will we be okay?” he asks, almost in a whisper.

“From now on, we will be,” you assure him. It feels like you are telling this to yourself too. Maybe you do. Everything still looks messy right now, but life is giving you a second chance, and neither Spencer nor you is willing to let it go.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angt #spencer reid hurt/comfort #seven months #from now on #amanda perry williams #aperrywilliams

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luveline · 8 months

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heyy! ━ im not sure if you requests currently because its totally fine if you dont.

but how about hot bombshell bau!reader where she looks extra fine today [like its warm and she wears a dress] and spencer cant info dump like he usually does? ━ feel free to add anything to the story!

love your writing and page, <3

ty for requesting ♡ fem!reader

Texas gets hot. Unbearable, suffocating heat, arid air that feels as though it's baking you alive paired with the unforgiving beat of the sun on your shoulders. Sorry, Hotch, but you have to wear a dress.

It's a little black thing with respectable sleeves and a less respectable hemline. There's no cleavage on show. Honestly, you could wear it to the courthouse if you needed to, and that's what counts.

"Well, hi, mama," Morgan greets as you drift into the hotel lobby.

"Unprofessional?" you ask, holding the hem in your two hands and pulling it down a touch.

"On you? Absolutely." Morgan's wearing his usual attitude, but even he had the sense to wear a light grey shirt. "Where've you been hiding that one?"

"I'm prepared for anything, Derek, you know that."

Hotch raises his eyebrows when he sees you.

"Too much?" you ask cautiously.

"No. You look nice, Y/N. It's not you I'm thinking about." He suffers in his suit jacket, but you can't imagine he'll wear it much longer. He's a stickler for formality but he's not insane. "Speaking of, where's Reid?"

"We're here!" JJ assures, leading the rest of your team from the breakfast hall. "We were following the air-conditioning. Hey, nice dress. I wish I packed something cooler."

"It has to be hitting one ten," Emily whines.

Spencer follows behind her, not quite looking at you as he begins, "It's an even one hundred farenheit today, it just feels hot because the aridity of the air is…"

Spencer stares at you, his voice fading thin as the edge of a flower petal. He makes a very gentlemanly and extremely entertaining attempt to restrain himself, but his eyes pitch downward to your thighs, your legs as a whole, pupils dragging and catching on the slopes of them.

His gaze shoots back to your eyes. "The air?" you ask softly.

You can feel Hotch's disapproval in the same way you could predict today's heat. Spencer glances at him, and, because he isn't totally socially unable, he steadies himself and says, "You look nice."

"Spencer!" you cheer, your happiness nearly smothering a mixture of sighs and laughs. "Thank you so much, that's so sweet!" You close the distance between you to clasp his arm gently. "You look nice too. I see you've foregone a sweater in the heat. Have you ever thought about wearing a v-neck shirt like Morgan does? You'd look really good, especially your arms."

Speechless, Spencer shakes his head. You pat his shoulder as Hotch shepherd's you out of the hotel and into the sunshine, the agony of a land without air-conditioning distracting your audience. With slightly more privacy, you lean into Spencer's side.

"I know it's not quite right to wear to work but my pencil skirts are all too tight after the last wash. Do you think it's alright?"

A bead of sweat collects at his hairline. "I think it's fine."

"Yeah? I just couldn't stand to be hot again like we were yesterday, even my knee caps felt sweaty. If it gets any hotter I'll have to solve the case in my underwear."

Spencer makes a quiet, strange sound, like a pant or a gasp being choked on. You'd love to say you attribute it to the heat, but you're not that humble.

"We'd still get the job done, wouldn't we?" you ask.

"I don't know what to tell you," Spencer says.

Hotch puts you and Spencer in separate SUVs.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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vintagecarat · 2 months

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Drunk Words are Sober Thoughts

Summary: Spencer’s been, uncharacteristically, ignoring you all day, and you’re determined to find out why.

A/N: I’m still alive, I promise! I forgot how much I loved posting my work on Tumblr (the validation seeker in me feels so fulfilled every time I look at my inbox). This was one of the first ‘x reader’ fics I ever wrote, but it’s been a couple of years since and I’m really hoping there’s been some improvement.

Enjoy the fic, and have a fantastic day <3

Note(s): gn!reader & no pronouns used, mentions of alcohol (reader gets quite drunk), shameless Korean movie name drop, drunken confessions and kisses (with consent!)

Word Count: 2801

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Heavy sheets of rain pelted down onto you as you weaved through the busy streets. Occasionally, a car would drive through the roadside puddles, splashing you and soaking you to the bone. You hadn’t brought a coat. You didn’t think you were going to need one. The sun had still been shining when you’d left your apartment in Quantico.

You had planned to go home, collapse onto your couch and work your way through a tub of cookie dough ice cream that you knew was sitting in the back of your freezer. Instead, you’d taken the hour-long journey to Washington DC. Spencer had been completely ignoring you, and Spencer was never the type to completely ignore you. You hadn’t managed to speak to him at all throughout the day, you'd barely been able to make eye contact with him for more than a millisecond, and you wanted to know why.

Standing outside Spencer's door, your eyes crossed as you watched a water droplet drip from your nose. You were acutely aware of the puddles you were leaving on the carpet and you shifted in place a little, hoping to not soak one particular spot too much.

You hadn't even noticed that Spencer had opened the door until he softly said your name, "What…" he started to say, speaking as if he was in a trance, "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Spencer," you gave him a little lopsided smile, "Can I come in?"

Spencer looked you up and down briefly, and for a moment you were convinced that he was about to slam the door in your face, "Yeah. Come in," he shuffled aside, "You must be freezing."

You slid past him, "Yeah," you laughed, your teeth chattering. You hadn't realised how cold you actually were until you stepped into his apartment where the heating system was on full blast, "You could say that."

"Hang on. Let me just…" Spencer scampered into a room on the other side of the apartment. You could hear him clattering around before he returned a moment later with a towel in one hand and a thread-worn jumper in the other, "Here."

You quickly and gratefully slipped the jumper over your head and draped the towel around your shoulders, breathing a tiny sigh of relief when the cold water stopped dripping onto your neck, "Thanks, Spencer."

A silence fell over the two of you. Spencer's eyes darted around the apartment, making sure to pay attention to everything except you. You and Spencer were never awkward with each other.

"Look, Spence," you clung to the towel a little bit tighter, "I didn't come here to steal a jumper, even though that seems like a great idea right now."

"We need to talk, don't we?"

"Yeah, we do," a sudden wave of self consciousness washed over you, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, why would…"

"You know you can always tell me if I've done something wrong," you started to ramble, "I don't mind. I'm not going to get mad, or offended, or…"

Spencer cut you off, "Why would you think you've done anything wrong?"

You ran a hand through your wet hair, "Spence, you've been ignoring me all day."

You triumphantly clutched the tickets in your balled up fist, "I did it!"

Derek's eyes followed the little scraps of paper as you waved them up and down, "Great. What did you do?"

"I got the tickets!" you excitedly shoved them in his face, "Look!"

"Yeah, I know what tickets are," he gently swatted your arm away, "What are they for?"

"Mother!" you told him, and only when he raised an eyebrow at you did you realise how strange it sounded with zero context, "It's a South Korean movie," you told him, "They're doing a screening of it later this week, and they haven't translated it so it still entirely in Korean."

"I didn't know you knew Korean."

You shrugged, "I'm not exactly conversational, but I understand most of the language. Spencer and I were discussing it the other day so I got tickets for the both of us so we could go together, and…" you stopped when you saw the smirk Derek was hiding behind his coffee cup, "What?"

"Nothing."

"No. What?"

Derek took a deliberately slow sip of his coffee, "It's not my place, really."

"That has literally never stopped you before," you rolled your eyes, "What's wrong? Do you think it's…" you were cut off when the elevator chimed and Spencer stepped out, "Oh! Spence!" you had to jog to catch up with his fast pace, "I got tickets for that movie we were talking about, and I managed to get two so we can go together!"

"I don't think I can."

Spencer's answer made you falter, "What? I thought you were looking forward to seeing it," you said, "It's not until next week, so…"

"No, it's fine. You go and see it, though."

You stopped and watched as Spencer entered the bullpen, took a seat at his desk and proceeded to busy himself in a case file, "Did I do something wrong?"

Derek sidled up to you, sipping on his coffee, "I'd say you did everything right, actually."

"Derek," you warned him, "I swear to God, you sip that coffee suspiciously one more time and it's going straight out of the nearest window."

"Hey! I paid good money for this."

"I haven't been ignoring you."

"Please don't deny it, Spencer. That makes it worse," you said, "Ignoring me. Avoiding me. Doesn't matter what you want to call it. You've been doing it."

Spencer avoided your eyes, "I guess I didn't realise."

"Yeah, I didn't think you did," with a sigh you flopped dramatically onto his couch, "I'd rather you be screaming at me, or I'd even rather you be passive aggressive with me, or something. At least then I'd know that I'd done something wrong."

"I told you, you haven't done anything wrong."

"I've obviously done something to make it seem like you suddenly hate me," you said, "You don't usually ignore your friends for no good reason."

"Hate you? I could never hate you," Spencer sighed, and he sat down on the couch beside you, "You really don't know what happened, do you?"

"If I did, do you think I'd be here?"

He sighed again, "The other night, when we went out after work," he started, "What do you remember?"

"I remember we all went to that new bar that Rossi’s always going on about, and I remember Prentiss getting us involved in that drinking game that I’m sure she was making up as the night went along, and…" you froze, "Oh. Oh no," you groaned, "Please don't tell me I did my Backstreet Boys karaoke set."

"It was quite good, actually," he paused, a smile taking over his face for a second, "Some interesting choreography, too."

You sank further into the couch cushions, buying your face in your hands, "This is the worst day of my life."

"That's it? You don't remember anything else?"

"No," you shook your head, "What else did I do? Did I drop some NSYNC into the mix, or something?" you noticed a faint blush creeping up Spencer's neck, "Spencer?"

"You kissed me."

"What?!"

"Are they going to be alright?"

Spencer and Derek looked to the doors of the bar where you and Penelope were stumbling out onto the street.

"I love you so much, Pen."

"I love you too, my sweet angel," Penelope grabbed your shoulders and gently shook you, "You are one of my bestest friends in the whole entire world."

"Alright," Derek slid into the conversation, "I think we best get you two home, hm?"

"And you," Penelope turned to Derek, prodding him in the chest, "You are just the most magnificent person I’ve ever seen," she gently slapped his cheek, "Mr.Magnificent."

You giggled, putting on your best Derek impression, "Lock up your doors. Mr. Magnificent is here."

"Okay. Alright. As much as I'm loving this conversation we're having," he took hold of Penelope firmly by the shoulders and steered her down the street, "You need to go home."

"Speak soon, my love," you blew Penelope a kiss as she and Derek disappeared into the night. You turned to Spencer, "Let's go!" you dramatically pointed in the vague direction of your apartment and strode off.

"Wait," Spencer ran to catch up with you, "You're not going home on your own."

"Obviously," you dramatically rolled your eyes, grabbing Spencer's wrist, "You're coming with me, silly!"

Spencer let out a sound akin to a yelp as you dragged him down the street, and he had to apologise profusely to a couple that you almost rammed into, "Slow down," he called, "Do you even know where you're going?"

You stopped and stared at him, a hand on your chin as you pretended to think, "Of course I do," you bounded off, though Spencer quickly caught your arm.

"You're going the wrong way."

"No, I'm not," you continued marching down the street, only to stop a few steps away and turn on your heel, "Oh."

Spencer shook his head, an amused smile playing on his lips, "Told you."

You marched past Spencer, and you grabbed his hand, "We're going the wrong way."

"We?!"

You and Spencer wandered through the streets in near silence for a moment, the only sound being you humming a completely out of tune song to yourself. You didn’t live far from the bar, and you could’ve usually walked the distance in two minutes. It probably took you almost ten considering you decided to keep stopping at every single little thing that caught your interest.

At one point, Spencer had to grab your hand and drag you down the street. You didn’t mind, though. You could feel your skin tingle a little when your hands connected.

“Oh, come on,” Spencer stood in front of the elevator in your apartment building, practically groaning in frustration at the ‘out of order’ sign that was plastered to the doors, “You have got to be kidding me.”

“It’s broken.”

“I know it’s broken.”

You sat down heavily on the stairs. Your legs were starting to get a little wobbly, and your eyes were starting to droop from tiredness, “It’s always broken.”

Spencer turned to you, shaking his head in amusement when he saw you sitting on the stairs and staring at the ceiling. You weren’t exactly staring at anything in particular, though, “Are you even capable of using the stairs right now?”

“I will be if you carry me.”

“I’m not carrying you,” Spencer gently tugged on your arm, “Come on. What floor is your apartment on?”

“Tenth.”

“Oh, for…” he quickly cut himself off, and he began coaxing you towards the stairs, though he was considering dragging you upstairs at this point, “Alright. Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”

“I don’t want to,” you whined, and you tugged on his hand, “No… No, I have a secret…”

Spencer looked back at you with that same amused smile playing on his lips as he took in your dishevelled state. You looked even worse now that you were indoors, and you looked like you so desperately needed your bed.

“What is it?”

“I can’t shout it out loud, can I?” you giggled again, and you beckoned him closer, “Come here. Let me whisper it.”

“Alright,” Spencer rolled his eyes affectionately, and he took a step closer to you, “Can you tell me now?”

“No,” you grabbed a hold of his jacket as you tugged him a little closer to you, “There. Close enough,” you leant in so that your lips were practically on his ear, “I want to kiss you.”

Spencer’s reaction was as if someone had burned him with a hot iron. He took a step back, and his expression was one of pure unadulterated shock, “You… You want to…” he was at a complete loss for words, “You want to kiss me?”

You hummed in response to his shock, and you clapped your hands. You were practically bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet in excitement as if you’d won something, “Yeah! Can I kiss you? Because I really want to kiss you.”

For a long moment, Spencer’s mouth opened and closed as if he were a fish out of water. It was almost comical, and it definitely made you laugh harder than you already were. Even with your alcohol-clouded brain, you couldn’t help but admire how utterly cute he was.

“I… I…” Spencer fumbled over his words for a few more seconds, but then he seemed to collect himself. He straightened up, and despite the blush painting his cheeks, his shocked expression morphed into one of happiness, “Yeah. Okay. I… I really want to kiss you, too.”

“Yay!” you barely even gave him a chance to prepare himself before you grabbed his collar and pressed your lips to his. It felt like fireworks were exploding inside your mind for a moment, though you weren’t sure if that was because of the kiss or because of the alcohol. Either way, it was quite possibly one of the most magical moments of your life.

After a few seconds, the kiss broke. Spencer pulled away first, but he seemed almost reluctant to do so, “I… That was…”

“That was amazing!” you finished his sentence for him, “I want to do it again. Can we do it again?”

That got a real laugh out of Spencer, “I think we’ll wait until you’re sober before we do that again,” he gently took your arm and began helping you up the stairs, “Come on. You need to sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover in the world tomorrow.”

You whined at that, “No, I hate hangovers,” your whining was interrupted when you tripped on the stairs. You would’ve face planted had Spencer not caught you, “Ow. Who put that there?”

“Oh my God,” you slumped so far into the sofa cushions that it was a wonder you hadn’t sunk into them, “Spence, I…” you glanced at him through your fingers, “I am so sorry. I…”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry,” Spencer quickly reassured you, and he placed a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to try and ease the nerves that were creeping through in your tone, “You don’t have to apologise. I… I didn’t mind, actually.”

Your hands dropped from your face, and you stared at him, “You didn’t?”

Sure, you’d fancied the pants off of Spencer from the moment you’d walked into the BAU on your very first day. The only reason you never actually said anything was so that you didn’t ruin the friendship the two of you had. You weren’t sure if you were ready to kiss or kill your drunk self for getting you into this situation.

“I kissed you.”

“I know you did.”

“And you kissed me.”

“Oh, so we’ve got two geniuses at the BAU, apparently.”

You swatted his arm, though there was no use pretending to be annoyed when the goofiest grin was taking over your face by the second, “I can’t believe I asked you to kiss me, and I can’t believe you actually chose to kiss me.”

Spencer let out a soft laugh, “Yeah, well, you were pretty insistent,” he rubbed his shoulder, “I’m pretty sure I still have that bruise from where you shoved me against the door and demanded I kiss you again.”

You groaned in a mix of embarrassment and frustration, and you whacked him with the damp towel around your shoulders, “I hate you.”

“Your drunk self says otherwise,” he laughed and deflected the towel, and then he quickly grabbed your hand. That gesture in itself shocked you. You’d never seen Spencer be any type of forward before, “Actually, if you hadn’t had lost all of your inhibitions that night, I don’t think we’d have ever kissed.”

You don’t miss the way your fingers immediately interlace with Spencer’s. It happens so quickly that it’s almost like a natural reaction for the two of you, “Yeah, I guess we wouldn’t have,” you squeezed his hand, and you gave him a smile, “So, does this mean we can actually kiss while I’m sober, this time?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Spencer’s voice dropped to a whisper, and he scooted a little closer to you so that your knees were touching, “I’m glad you’ll actually remember this one.”

You giggled at that comment. You sounded as if you were on cloud nine. You felt it, too, “Yeah. I’ll definitely remember.”

As Spencer gently pressed his lips to yours in a kiss so sweet and so obviously full of affection, those same fireworks that you’d felt a few nights ago came rushing back. They definitely weren’t because of the alcohol.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader

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zvdvdlvr · 2 months

Text

— Lunch Break

— 🫧. Synopsis. Spencer hasn’t been feeling well lately. When he accidentally gives you his lunch as well as yours, you have to leave work to make sure he gets his lunch and eats to make sure he gets better. But the thing is, no one knew Spencer had married someone.

— 🫧. Warnings. Blue!collar reader. Female reader. Collective group shock lmao. Foul language. Welder!reader. Pet names. Possible out of character Spencer but i dont really care. I’m so sleep deprived yall.

— 🫧. Other welder!reader pieces. Alive and Breathing.

“Bye, angel,” you murmured after pressing a kiss to your sleepin husband’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Spencer replied tiredly, eyes opening the slightest bit. “I already put your lunch in your cooler. Be safe.”

You smiled. Of course, even though you have to leave at 2 in the morning, Spencer’s already five steps ahead. You turned to leave the bedroom but stopped after hearing him cough. “Before you leave- I got you a few more boxes of that DayQuill/NyQuill stuff and Mucinex. Should be on the counter. Make sure you take them, Spence. I know you haven’t been feeling well. Bye, I love you,” you spoke quickly, throwing your coat on.

Spencer felt a smile forming on his face. His wife: always attentive and gentle (to him at least). “I love you, baby.”

“Hey,” Spencer greeted, picking up his phone and heading out of the bullpen. “What’s up?” Spencer was confused: you didn’t usually call him or contact him when you were at work unless it was absolutely necessary. Were you in trouble? “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright, angel. I’m coming over to drop off your lunch. You, uh,” your voice paused, probably observing other drivers’ movements at a red light. “You gave me my lunch and yours. So I’m on my way. Do you want me to come up or… drop it off? I’m all dirty ‘n everything,” you rambled.

“I think you look hot when you get off of work,” Spencer replied with a smile. He felt himself sigh. He was glad nothing had happened to you.

Your laugh crackled through the line. “That’s because it’s a very physical job, Spence.”

Spencer chuckled, “No, babe, I think you’re just… naturally very attractive.”

“You’re too good for me, Spence. Did you take your medicine? You sound pretty nasally,” you questioned.

“Yeah, I took it,” Spencer replied quietly with a smile on his face. You noticed everything- and Spencer was the profiler! “Anyway, I gotta go, babe. Drive safe, my beautiful wife. I love you.”

“I love you too, husband.”

Spencer tucked his ohone back into his pocket and wandered back out to the bullpen. “Hey, so… I have something to tell you,” Spencer blurted out to Emily and Derek who were watching him like a hawk.

“What is it?” Emily asked immediately, eyebrows furrowing.

“So, I want to apologize for keeping this for so long but I just- I didn’t know how to tell you. I mean, not to mention the fact that you wouldn’t have believed me anyway but that’s not the point. The point is I want you to stay calm and don’t be mad at me.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, kid, slow your roll. What’s goin’ on?” Derek asked.

Spencer looked at both Emily and Derek before sighing. “My wife is gonna be swinging by soon and… she’s… all I’m asking is don’t scare her away. Actually,” Spencer paused, smiling slightly, “she might scare you a little bit.”

Emily’s brows raised higher then Spencer previously thought possible. “You… What?” She asked, standing up.

“You’re actually joking.” Derek stated, face solemn. “You’re joking, man, come on.”

Spencer shrugged, hand coming up to pull the necklace his ring was on from under his shirt to show his coworkers. “We went to the courthouse one year, eleven months. two weeks, four days, and twelve hours ago.”

Derek blinked. “Are- You’re seriously not joking?”

“I have the documents at home to prove it,” Spencer replied, tucking it back under his shirt. “If, you know, you want to see them.”

“I’d rather see her in person,” Emily stated, already starting her pacing. “But like, you didn’t kidnap her or anything did you?”

Spencer shook his head. “No, believe me. She loves me, Emily. I love her.”

Derek sat, hands on his head. “So we missed the wedding and everything? You didn’t say a word, man.”

Spencer nodded. “We were gonna tell you, invite you over for our anniversary.”

“Spencer, what’s her name?” Emily asked suddenly.

“Who’s name?” A low, gravely voice asked. Aaron Hotchner stood, hands on his hips, staring each of his agents down.

“Spencer’s wife’s,” Derek responded slowly.

“Oh,” Hotch replied casually.

“You knew?!” Emily asked loudly, mouth dropped open in shock.

“I saw he added someone else to the insurance, and there was another emergency contact. I haven’t seen her though,” Hotch answered honestly.

“When’s she gonna be here?”

“Soon. She called me probably five minutes ago, so estimating the amount of traffic about this time, I’d guess probably ten minutes.”

“I assume you can find something to do for ten minutes?” The corner of Hotch’s lip turned up just the slightest bit, and he had a hint of amusement in his voice. When Derek finally tore his eyes off of Spencer and Emily bee-lined for her desk, Hotch turned around and stalked over to Rossi’s office to tell him the good news.

Spencer stood up when he heard the unmistakable sound of your steel-toed boots making comtact with the floor. A sweet smile painted his face as he gravitated to you, shoulders relaxing at your presence. “Hey, baby,” he whispered when he was close enough to you.

“Hi you,” you replied, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You brandished a brown paper bag, Spencer’s name written in your handwriting.

Emily watched you walk in. You were wearing two shirts, dark in color with small holes decorating the sleeves and the hem of both shirts. Your pants were dark and thick, dark liquids and stains all over them. The boots on your feet were definitely thick: steel toed if Emily had to guess. A physical worker, she put the pieces together. Electician? That wouldn’t explain all the stains. Mechanic? Couldn’t be: why would your shirts be all torn if you were fixing cars? Welder? The pieces fit, though Emily wasn’t too educated in that department. She had respect for you. Not many women Emily knew could handle the responsibilities of such a physical job, or handle all the creeps, jerks, and perverts that passed in your workplace.

“Derek,” Emily whisper-yelled. He looked up and she gestured to where Spencer had strode over to you.

“Come on.”

Emily stood up, brushing her hands on her pants and followed Derek to where you were conversing.

“-come back? He’s been slacking off too much, baby, you shouldn’t let him keep relying on you to get his stuff done,” Spencer rambled angrily.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Spence. How are you feeling? I brough- oh. Hi,” you greeted.

“Hi! Mrs. Reid, right?” Emily asked, sticking her hand out.

You smiled brightly and nodded. When you saw her hand and showed her your own: “I don’t, uh, think you’d want to do that,” you murmured.

“Doesn’t bother me,” Emily assured honestly.

You returned her genuine smile and clasped her hand. “Thank you. You’re… Emily? Right? And then you’re Derek?” You asked, turning to face Morgan.

“That’s us,” Morgan answered.

“I don’t think Spencer’s brought me up. I’m y/n Reid,” you introduced. “Sorry for all the grime. I came to drop off Spencer’s lunch,” you explained, shooting Spencer a smile, who kept his eyes trained on you the whole time.

“Good to meet you, y/n.” Emily said. “If… if you’re alright with it, I’d like to get the team together. To meet you. If,” she glanced between you and Spencer who was watching you unblinkingly, “that is okay with both of you? I don’t want to push you.”

Derek side eyed Emily. Penelope would probably scare y/n away, even though she didn’t mean to.

“Up to you, baby,” Spencer murmured when you turned to face him.

“Doesn’t bother me,” you answered. Glancing at your Casio, you nodded, “I’ve got an hour.”

“It’ll be fast,” Emily reassured with a smile.

Emily and Derek split up, Emily going up to get Rossi and Hotch, Derek rounding up JJ and Garcia.

“Are you sure, baby?” Spencer asked. He led you to his desk, setting down the bag you gave him. “I don’t- they-“

“Do you want us to do this another day? When I’m not in my work clothes?” You asked, refusing to sit down on anything.

Spencer shook his head. “No, no. I just want you to be prepared. They can be overwhelming.”

“‘Overwhelming’ I hear?”

You turned your head and saw two men and Emily walking towards you both. The younger looking one was Hotchner because you knew David Rossi’s face; him being a famous author and everything.

“Hello! You must be the missus,” Rossi greeted, sticking his hand out. Good lord, you thought, feds and their handshakes.

You showed Rossi your dirt stained hands and opened her mouth.

“We’ve touched dead bodies, y/n. I promise we won’t get upset at a little grease,” Emily explained gently. Good god, you thought.

Regardless, you shook Rossi and Hotch’s hand, grateful for Emily’s reassurance. Spencer wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He leaned in, whispering “You’re doing great, baby.”

“So,” Hotch began, “I want to personally thank you for keeping Reid sane and healthy.”

Emily and Rossi both laughed. “Yeah, he’s got enough trouble on the field,” Emily joked.

You elbowed Spencer, a grin painting your face. “Is that right?”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s right or not: I’ll always come back to you,” Spencer replies softly, eyed swiftly darting to your lips.

“Spencer!” You reprimanded, smacking him (lightly) on the stomach. “Your bosses are right there, you-“

A loud shriek cut you off, making everyone’s gaze dart to a person behind you. “She’s real! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Reid! You didn’t even drop a singular hint that you were hitched!”

Spencer chuckled, pulling your form a little closer to his. “If I remember correctly, JJ saw my ring when I was asleep on the plane: I assumed she had told everyone and you didn’t want to bring it up.”

“For a genius, you’re pretty dumb,” a new voice cut in. “Hi, I’m Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ.” The blonde smiled warmly and brought you in for a swift hug.

“Ah! Hello, you gorgeous soul! I’m Penelope!” A shorter blonde, more colorful and energetic, embraced you. “I’m so glad to meet you, even though, you know, I didn’t even knew you existed until about two minutes ago.” She shot your husband a look. “But, I would cery much like to get to know you, as would JJ and Emily if you can’t tell.”

You smiled. “I’d love to now, but seeing as I’m technically on my lunch break, I don’t think I’ll have time to do everything you probably have in mind. Could we,” you turned to Spencer, eyes glinting, “bring them over for dinner?”

“Anything you want, babe,” Spencer replied. Truly, if you had asked him to give you his heart, he would find a way to rip the organ out of his chest and give it to you in his bood stained hands. Dinner? No problem.

“I’ll give you my number. Penelope could make a groupchat or something,” you suggested.

Everyone nodded. Hotch was looking forward to this dinner. And Rossi, no matter what he said.

After you gave Penelope your phone number and everyone dispersed, Emily and Derek were wise enough to go busy themselves with a vending machine.

“You alright, baby?” Spencer asked.

You nodded. “I’m alright. Glad I finally met them. I, uh, hope you’re not mad about the dinner thing.”

Spencer scoffed. “I wouldn’t get mad over that.”

You shrugged. “Well. I should probably head back to work. Sorry for getting you all dirty,” you apologized again, pulling away from Spencer quickly, remembering you were in your work attire.

“It’s alright, baby. ‘M just glad I got to see you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, a sly smile forming on your face. “You’ve been awfully sappy lately, Spence. Are you sure you’re alright? I’m seriously considering taking you to a doctor.”

Spencer laughed. “I’m your sap,” he responded casually.

“Okay. Seriously. Stop making me get lost in your eyes because I got to go to work. Bye. I love you,” you babbled, pulling Spencer down to kiss you.

“Bye, wife,” Spencer whispered into your lips.

“Bye, husband.”

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veryberryjelly · 3 months

Text

coping mechanisms

spencer reid x fem!reader ( platonic or romantic x )

prompt : one leaning their head onto the other's shoulder suddenly and they just freeze

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

i made a playlist specifically for this concept which you should definitely check out -> here <-

the jet was quiet aside from the peaceful rumbling of the plane's engine lulling everyone to sleep.

emily and derek were both fast asleep propped up in the chairs in the centre of the plane.

jj was sat next to the brunette skimming over case files while hotch and rossi were having a quiet discussion at the other end of the plane.

which left you and spencer sat next to eachother, with an earphone in each of your ears while some music played through them.

after cases the plane tended to get quiet and you could never stand it, so very early on in your bau career, you had made a playlist specifically for the plane ride back to virginia.

nothing too loud or happy as you weren't always in the best mood, everything soft and calming and just comforting.

after a particularly rough case a few years ago, everyone on the jet had been on edge and just quite melancholy since you left the police station.

and sat across from you, spencer looked the most out of it.

he's features looked sunken from the days without sleep poured over this case, yet his eyes were wide open. unable to fall asleep.

while he usually read on the plane, his book was discarded next to him on the couch.

you couldnt look at it anymore.

so you pushed yourself up from your place on the opposite couch and sat yourself next to him.

you offered him an earbud silently, not wanting to disturb anyone else on the plane.

when he hesitated, you explained.

" sitting here reliving it isn't going to help anything. it helps stop my mind wandering if i'm listening to something. " you said quietly, your other earbud still in your hand for him to take.

" thanks " was the soft response from him as he took it and settled it in his ear.

I can't forget that night, You said I looked like Suzi Quatro

In the morning light, faded to oblivion.

And I said, "That's alright, at least we feel alive"

At least we feel alive

There's nothing you can do

I know that I want this

No one likes to lose

Know that I got this.

the sultry tones of suki waterhouse banished almost all the thoughts of the last few days from his mind and instead he was focused on the sounds flowing through your earbud.

since then, it had become almost a tradition on the jet home.

one earbud each and a couch shared between you.

sometimes the two of you would talk while it played, other times you'd both be reading or even filling out paperwork.

but always on the plane home, you would listen to music together.

to the point where you would always just gravitate towards eachother on the jet as everyone made their way in. and everyone knew, not to block any way for the two of you to sit together.

everyone had their coping mechanisms for after cases, and they couldnt deny either of you yours.

especially considering it was such a healthy one.

this case had been a rough one though. you hadn't been able to save the unsub or his last victim and being right infront of him when he died just made it a lot more real.

his blood stained your shirt, and your skin.

it was spencer who helped you wash it off when you were a bit too dazed to move.

you sat closer than usual on the jet, the outside of your legs pressed against each others as the jet flew over a state you couldn't pinpoint.

after not sleeping for three days, you couldn't physically keep your eyes open. your eyes fell shut as the sound of the cranberries flooded your ear.

your head dropped onto the nearest surface, which happened to be spencer's shoulder to your left.

while you could feel your mind slipping off into unconsciousness, you felt the surface you had rested your head on almost flinch.

you lifted your head up, prying your eyes open as you realised what you had done.

" sorry, i haven't slept the last couple days. didn't mean to use you as a pillow " you apologised, lifting your hand to wipe under your eyes, attempting to wake yourself up a bit so it didn't happen again.

" no no, it's okay. just startled me " he replied. while his tone was still quiet, his voice was quiet.

" you're not usually so jumpy " you observed.

" didnt sleep too well either. " he admitted

" why don't you get some sleep ? it's gonna be a while until we get back to quantico "

he pondered it for a few minutes before ultimately shaking his head and muttering a quiet ' i'm good '

you knew why he didnt want to sleep. it was the same reason you didnt sleep after a particularly tough case for spencer.

to make sure he was okay. protect him.

" you can sleep, spence. i'm fine " you punctuated your point by dropping your hand down onto his thigh in a light pat.

" i will if you will "

with that promise, you settled your head down against his shoulder again, his head taking moments to rest ontop of yours.

the comforting words of delores o'riordan comforting the two of you as you drifted off into a comfortable and safe slumber.

You know I'm such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger

Do you have to let it linger?

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hedwig221b · 1 year

Text

“Where is he?” Stiles rumbled, glancing at each member of the pack in front of him, before settling his incinerating gaze on one person he once considered a brother. “Tell me, Scott, where is my husband?”

Stiles knew the moment it happened that something was terribly wrong. It was the middle of the night when he was woken up by a scorching hot fire, running up his entire body. It took him a full minute of panicked breathing to realize it wasn’t a nightmare, but the pain of his mate he felt through their bond. It stopped rather abruptly, but that did little to calm him.

He didn’t feel Derek. On the other end of the bond, blessedly still existing, there was no usual warmth and steady presence. There was nothing but agonizing emptiness.

Stiles knew, he felt that it was wrong to let Derek pick up their son from Beacon Hills alone. Eli whined all week that he missed his grandpa and Derek, who couldn’t for his life say ‘no’ to their son, volunteered to drive him over for a mini-vacation.

Stiles should have listened to his gut, tell his boss to fuck off and go with them.

It took one wave of a shaking hand to open the portal. He didn’t care about the magic exhaustion. He wanted his husband.

To say that BH residents were shocked to see the empty space in front of them tearing apart in a strobe of lightning…

“I couldn’t do anything,” Scott shook his head, looking up at him remorsefully. Stiles learnt long ago not to believe him.

“Papa!”

Eli.

Stiles raced to his son, who was sitting on the cold ground, reaching with both of his hands towards him. His entire face was red and wet from tears, though his eyes shined beautiful gold.

“Oh, pup,” he murmured, taking Eli into his arms. The boy put his forehead on his shoulder and sniffed silent tears. It was obvious he was in too much of a shock to tell anything — Eli clutched at his father’s back, digging into the skin with the claws, but Stiles paid them no mind.

As Stiles shushed his pup, scratching the back of his head, he looked up at Scott with murder in his eyes.

“Where is he?”

“Nogitsune,” Stiles’ father rasped. He looked almost as awful as his grandson.

“He sacrificed himself,” Scott interrupted him, clenching his jaw. “For the greater good. For the pa—“

Stiles shut him up with a growl he learnt from his husband.

“We have our own pack!”

“He helped kill the nogitsune,” Scott insisted, stepping closer, but then immediately flinching backwards at Stiles’ glare. “He died as a hero.”

Eli’s anxious and terrified breathing grew heavier.

“Shh,” Stiles muttered in his messy hair. “He didn’t die, pup, it’s alright.”

He didn’t know what the fuck happened that brought the fucking thing back, but apparently it had something to do with Derek’s disappearance.

Oh, he would never allow them to take another step in this forsaken place anymore.

“Nogitsune can’t be killed,” he grit out, taking Eli’s hands from him and standing up. “Dad, look after him. Take him to your house, make a mountain ash circle — he’s not in control yet.”

“Stiles…”

“Our bond is alive,” Stiles shouted, making everyone shut up again. “I don’t see a body, and I bet you didn’t scream, either,” he thrust an accusatory finger at the banshee, who just looked away in shame. “If I’m not back in an hour, call Kira.”

---

“Papa?”

“Yes, pup?”

Eli stomped in one place near the bedroom door, glancing nervously at Stiles. He was afraid to look at his dad’s scarred face.

“Is he gonna live?”

Stiles looked up from his husband’s burnt red skin on his torso, but didn’t stop moving his glowing golden-white hands in an intricate pattern of healing magic. Derek already looked better than fifteen minutes ago. By the morning, Derek wouldn’t feel an ounce of pain and all his scars will be gone.

“Of course,” he smiled tiredly. “You know dad’s a tough cookie.”

Eli shuffled towards the bed and fell on his knees in front of it, putting his chin on the bed. He leaned on his side, putting half of his weight on Stiles’ legs. His big eyes didn’t leave his dad’s still body.

Stiles wanted to hug his little boy so much, but it will have to wait. For now he just nudged Eli with his toes, making him look up at him.

“I’m proud of you, Eli,” he said quietly. Eli squeezed his eyes shut and put his temple against Stiles’ knee, breathing harshly. “You shifted. That’s amazing.”

“Lot of good it did,” Eli muttered. “If I was faster…”

“Nuh-uh, the guilt wagon is stopping right now,” Stiles shook his head. “Dad wouldn’t have risked taking you with him back to that inside-out place. None of this is your fault, kiddo.”

Eli sniffed.

Suddenly, Derek grunted something under his breath. All attention instantly zeroed on the wolf, both his mate and his son waiting with bated breath for another sign of consciousness. One of Derek’s hands, lying closest to the edge, moved bit by bit, until it reached Stiles’ knee.

Eli sniffed once again, then carefully took his dad’s hand, mindful of still healing burns, and put it on Stiles’ knee, then laid his head on top. Clever pup, letting his Alpha know his pack was here.

“Eli,” Derek breathed out, his eyelids fluttering.

“Shh,” Stiles shushed immediately, lightly caressing his cheek with his glowing hand. “He’s alright.”

“Stiles.”

“I’m here, love. You’re safe.”

Derek relaxed once again, falling into much needed sleep.

“See,” Stiles said with a relieved smile, looking down at Eli, who finally had some hope in his puppy eyes and a wobbly smile on his lips. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

ao3

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miley1442111 · 1 month

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hi!!! can you do something with aaron, like a continuation of unfair with the other episode? like reader's drives the ambulance instead of Derek and reader and Aaron have a moment in the hospital?

love your writing, thank youuuuu!!!!

i love these two episodes, yes! thank u for requesting <3

unfair part 2- a.hotchner

a/n: this wasn't intended for a fem or male reader so imagine what you like :)))))))))))))) this is major spoilers for season 3 episode 20 and season 4 episode 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

summary: the bombs started and you need to do something about it.

pairings: aaronhotchner x reader, platonic!BAUteam x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, descriptions of harm to reader, harm to others, descriptions of bombings, descriptions of pain, mentions of guns and knives, descriptions of wounds, mentions of hospitals, mentions of scars, mentions of insecurity around scars, mentions of death + more

Part 1

The blast was loud. So fucking loud. You were shot back at least 10 feet? You couldn’t tell. You couldn’t see Aaron, nor could you see Kate. It all happened so quickly. You stood up, looking around for him, for anyone. You stared at the burning car, seeing a figure, when your ears finally focused in.

“Y/n?! Y/n?!” Aaron screamed. “Kate?! Y/n?!”

“Aaron?!” You shouted back, limping towards him. His head was cut and he was limping too.

“Oh god,” he sighed, breath laboured. “You’re alive.” He pulled you close and a piercing pain in your shoulder made you scream and push him off you. “Y/N?!”

“M-my shoulder,” you whimpered, turning to let him look.

“Oh god,” he breathed out, low enough that if he wasn’t right behind you, you wouldn’t have heard.

“Is it- I don’t want to know. Where’s Kate?” you decided.

“I thought she’d be with you?”

You stared at each other then started frantically looking around, finally spotting her up the road.

“Kate!” You screamed. She was awake, bleeding out, but awake. You rushed to her side. “Kate!”

“Y/n, where’s Aaron?”

“He’s over there, w-with someone, we’re going to get you help-”

“Why are you bleeding?”

“We got hit, the blast from the car, we’re getting you help don’t worry- stay with me,” you explained. “Aaron!” you screamed. “We need to find the bleeding!”

Aaron came running over, a boy beside him. “Flip her on her side!”

You did as he asked and found her back a bloody mess. You found the bleed and plugged it with your finger.

“No one’s coming,” Kate muttered. “Orders. 1st responders are the second wave, remember?”

“Aaron go get someone from that front line now,” you ordered.

“I can’t leave you here-”

“Now!” You shouted. “Go Aaron!” He ran off, towards the frontline. Derek came back, ready to help.

“What’s going on?” he asked, a hand on your arm.

“We’ll need to move her if Aaron can’t get anyone over, Derek, she’ll die if we don't do something.”

You felt helpless, and trapped. Derek got a phone call and picked up. “What?”

You quirked an eyebrow up, a look of startled confusion gracing your face.

“You’re sure?” he asked. “The kid’s our bomber.”

You wave him off and he starts chasing him down the block. After what felt like hours, someone finally came to help, an ambulance from behind you. The paramedic patched her up with your help, and you opened the ambulance, ready to get the gurney and help Kate. You sat in the back, Kate awake as the paramedic drove.

“Where are we going?” You shouted.

“Nearest hospital, don’t worry we’ll get to her in time.”

You started looking around the back as Kate groaned in pain.

“W-what should I give her? I’ve done courses in administering medication, I-I’m certified,” you assured him.

“Wait ‘till the hospital,” he said calmly. “We’re two minutes out.”

You nodded, then started looking around for something, for anything. And that's when you saw it. The bomb under the bed. You stifled your gasp as you met a secret service checkpoint. You grabbed a piece of paper from your pocket and a pen and started writing.

“This hospital is closed, go to Lincoln instead,” the Secret Service Agent explained.

“I’m SSA Y/l/n, please, she won’t make it to the next hospital!”

"Credentials?" He asked and you pulled it out of your pocket and he waved you on. You opened the door just enough to shove your note out and you dropped it, praying someone would find it. You stayed with Kate as they brought her into surgery and a nurse came up to you.

“You need to lie down, follow me-”

“There’s a bomb in this building,” you whispered and she almost screamed but you put a hand against her mouth to stop her. “Start evac,” you flashed your badge and she nodded, you grabbed your gun from your holster and started to try and find the paramedic. Your adrenaline was wearing off and you could feel all of the pain in your shoulder. You looked as much as you could and saw a large piece of shrapnel in your shoulder, you let out a gasp but persevered. You caught sight of him in a long corridor, going towards the elevators. You followed him down to the ambulance, pointing the gun at his head. “Stop what you’re doing.” But the bomb was already online. You pulled the trigger, aiming at his shoulder, immobilising him, then searched him, finding the phone.You pulled out your own phone and tried multiple people on the team, Garcia, Morgan, Rossi, Prentiss, hell, even Hotch despite knowing he wouldn’t answer. The paramedic gained back enough strength to stab you in the leg and make you drop the phone. He grabbed it and started running.

You called Spencer on your phone, praying he would pick up.

“Y/n? Are you ok?” he asked, frantic.

“I had the bomer, I shot him in the shoulder but he got away. The bombs online and he has the phone, get Garcia to block the signals for as long as she can.”

You hung up and mustered all the strength you still had in you and got up, you ripped your shirt and wrapped it around the wound in your leg, adrenaline kicking in once again. You got in the driver’s seat, thankfully the keys were in the ignition and you started the ambulance, then called Garcia.

“Hey, what can I do?” she asked.

“Garcia I need you to track the ambulance I’m in,” you said, out of breath. “Then tell me where I can drive where there’s no civilians around.”

“What are you doing?” she asked, terror clear in her tone.

“My job, now do yours,” you ordered and started driving.

“Head north, floor it, I’ll tell you when to turn,” she sighed.

As you drove you thought about your life. Living with your family as a child, moving to college, finding your life-long friends, meeting exes, all of your firsts in life, joining the FBI, joining the BAU, meeting all the amazing team, meeting Aaron, meeting Jack just a few months ago, looking at houses with Aaron.

All of it was so special.

“How long is left on the signal blocking?” You asked, driving through traffic at dangerous speeds.

“35 seconds,” Garcia said. “Turn left now!”

You obliged and saw the open green up ahead. You floored it, jumping out the second you drove over grass. The ambulance continued on, exploding around 20 metres away.

“Y/n?!” Garcia screamed down the line. “Y/n?!”

“Call an ambulance to where I am please, blast happened, I wasn’t in it, I just have fucking shrapnle in my shoulder that I would really like to get out and a stab wound in my thigh that’s being held together with a scrap of my shirt.”

“Ok, headed your way now,” she sighed in relief.

“I love you Pen,” you sighed, relieved that all this was over, as you sat down on the grass.

“I’m mad at you,” she sighed and ended the call. You chuckled to yourself as you heard the sirens, then finally allowed yourself to pass out.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You woke up in a hospital bed, alone. You pressed the red call button, from the closed window you assumed it was the middle of night.

“Good morning, or should I say good evening?” she smiled as she walked in. “You have some people to see you, am I allowed to let them in?” You nodded. “No hugs or anything strenuous, you’ll rip your stitches.” You nodded again, showing her you understood. You left and behind her, Aaron, Spencer, Derek, Emily, Penelope, Jj, and Rossi came in. Derek was first to try to hug you but the nurse scolded him.

“How long was I asleep for?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

“A day,” Spencer answered.

“Oh. Was Kate ok?”

“She didn’t make it,” Derek sighed.

“Shit,” you stated.

“What you did was really brave,” Jj smiled. “We’re all really proud of you.”

You smiled at her comment but started tearing up. It was an awful experience. You didn’t feel like a hero. You felt like shit. Your body and mind hurt. “Can you… do you guys mind if it’s just me and Aaron for a bit? It’s just a bit much,” you explained and they nodded and left.

“Honey, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” he sighed, pulling a chair up beside you and holding your hand as you started to cry. Every breath brought another wave of pain from your shoulder. He moved to hold you and leaned into his touch, sobbing into his chest. You sat there like that for at least an hour, sobbing until you couldn’t anymore.

“I fucking hate this job,” you sighed after a long silence.

“I understand,” he sighed, kissing the top of your head. “Promise me you’ll never do something like this again?”

“I promise to never be in the fucking field again,” you sighed and he pulled back.

“You mean that?”

“Maybe in a while, but I’ll need some time just in the office. I have a psychology degree and 2 phDs I’m sure a department will want me. This job… it takes too much.”

“Ok honey, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that you had to do this.”

“I’m sorry I did this,” you sighed.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like crap. The wounds and stuff… I’ll be covered in scars,” you mumbled. “You won’t want me then,” you joked, trying to hide the genuine fear you had about this.

“I’ll always want you,” he smiled, his true genuine answer.

“You’re just saying that,” you pushed, holding his hand.

“No I’m not,” he said, seriously. “I love you, all of you. All of you, forever.”

“Promise?” You said.

“Promise,” he kissed you tentatively, careful of your pain and fragility.

"I just want to get home. Have you called Jack yet?"

"He knows you won't be able for playing for a while. He said he wants to give you a hug."

You chuckled and leaned into Aaron again. You knew that despite the pain, scars, and anything else on the horizon, you’d be ok, you’d be with Aaron, the team, and Jack.

#aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner fluff #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #bau imagine #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfic

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year

Text

Father Figure (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer discusses daddy issues. His boss, who is also his girlfriend’s father, has a question. Request: Reader is hotch's daughter and after hotch learns that they are dating their interactions are kind of weird in a funny way Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: Mild awkwardness Word Count: 900

MASTERLIST

The jet ride to a crime scene is rarely a pleasant experience. Each team member holds their folders filled with horrors, and they display an abject apathy. After all, they are quite familiar with the worst side of humanity. Some days, though, when the worst crimes are still hypothetical and the victims are alive, the team can maintain some semblance of their usual personality.

Spencer is usually the first one to share something interesting about the theoretical or identified unsub. This is because he has a broad knowledge on, well, most things, and he also manages to read through the stack of papers much quicker and with a greater detail than the others.

This day, however, Spencer is silent. And everyone knows why.

Because just one measly week ago, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner found out that Spencer Reid was dating his daughter.

Beyond the initial, incredibly uncomfortable conversation, Hotch had barely spoken a word about it. A fool might think that meant he has no qualms with it, but Spencer knows him better than that.

No, it is infinitely more likely that Hotch is stewing in his rage about his daughter’s Freudian taste in men. Hotch is just too smart to strike without the possibility of maximal damage.

So, Spencer knows to keep his guard up.

But he never could keep a thought to himself, could he?

Derek lets out a deep breath with a soft whistle before he tosses his folder onto the desk beside him. As the others peek up at him, he shakes his head with an enthused but horrified expression.

“Talk about ‘daddy issues,’” Derek mutters.

The others smirk in response, but they say nothing else.

Until, inevitably, Spencer does.

“The correct term would be ‘father complex,’” he says with an attempt to sound disinterested in one of his favorite philosophers, “It was a shared theory between Freud and Jung, and it’s actually very interesting.”

No one says a word. Spencer does not notice the warnings flashing in their eyes because he is too afraid to accidentally look at Hotch.

They all know what’s coming.

He continues, anyway.

“While Freud was more interested in how men might become distrusting or intimidated by older male authorities, Jung extended his analysis to women with emotionally or physically absent fathers.”

Despite the roaring engines and the full cabin, the jet is silent. If Spencer had looked up then, he would have seen how everyone immediately glances over at Hotch.

Hotch, however, maintains his stoic stare. He is looking directly at Spencer, who is still staring at the document in the folder he has already read several times over.

“There’s a more contemporary term for the phenomenon that would probably be more fitting,” Spencer announces.

“Really?” Emily asks. The rhetorical question is dripping with sarcasm in a final attempt to stop him.

Spencer is so lost in thought at this point that he does not even notice. Instead, he marches on to his downfall.

“It’s called ‘Father hunger,’” he explains coolly, “and it explains the over-trust in authority figures and the search for an older man that reminds them of the father they never had.”

“Are you talking about yourself or my daughter?”

Every muscle in Spencer’s body seizes at the question. Quickly, he raises his head to find himself trapped in the paralyzing, disapproving stare of Aaron Hotchner.

“What?” he squeaks.

The man does not answer.

“N-No! No, I was just explaining the origins of the term,” he insists.

He tries—but fails—not to think about you. Just one remark, one casual reminder of your existence makes his skin ripple with goosebumps. Overcome with guilt—but never regret—his mind tugs forward every memory shared between the two of you.

The smell of your perfume, the softness of your lips, the comfort he finds in your arms.

His life is flashing before his eyes and every part of it looks like you.

He raises his hands in surrender before he sputters, “I would never—!”

“Reid,” your father commands.

Your boyfriend flinches.

“It’s a joke,” Hotch says just before he smiles.

Immediately, Spencer is surrounded by familiar smiles. He feels the visceral pain of a joke made at his expense while at the same time, he is cloaked with relief.

“Funny joke,” he says under his breath.

Hotch detects the sarcasm but decides to let it go.

He had won the exchange, after all.

Spencer also tries to let it go. Because if this was the height of Hotch’s rage over the ultimate violation of his home life, he’d basically gotten away with murder.

Still, he can’t shake the burning red blush. That and the trembling from the adrenaline felt almost permanent.

Just as the thought occurs to him, Derek takes a seat beside him.

He leans closer even as Spencer leans away.

Then, in the quietest whisper, he asks, “Which one of you does she call daddy?”

Yes, Spencer realizes. The blush is going to be permanent.

“Stop talking,” he orders with a startlingly amount of finality.

From across the table, Emily provides Derek with the audience he wanted. Her giggles alone assuage his desire to make Spencer’s day just a little bit more chaotic.

The two relent. Spencer is alone with his thoughts again, and he wonders whether he will ever feel at home in his new position.

But then he thinks of you, and he knows that he is exactly where he is meant to be.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

If you're looking for more to read, check out my full-length smut story "My Boss's Daughter," where Reader is Hotch's daughter that is in love with Spencer!

Thanks for reading!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfiction

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leanteam43 · 2 months

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I have a criminal minds request! Spencer x Female Reader, where she has a very big crush on him but they coworkers and everyone else knows it but him. She is so scared to admit to him because they are friends and coworkers. But she tries to drop hints and be flirty, but he is too oblivious to know she like him And one day she is just like "I love you, you smart idiot!"

Hot Fudge Pop-Tarts and a Box of Runts

(Spencer Reid One-Shot)

summary : head-over-heels!reader x oblivious!spencer

pronouns : she/her | female!reader

warnings : SLOW BURN LIKE DANG GIRL SPEED IT UPPPP, crappy vending machine facts i googled, mild swearing, reader technically not getting proper nutrients but nothing serious at all, also not proof-read so cope </3

a/n's : i girlbossed gutair is making me a crochet derek morggan - 🌿 | HAPPY VALENTINES DAY (pretend this came out for valentines day - 🌿) - 🎸 | mowmowmowmowmow - 🐇

It was no secret, like...seriously. No secret.

It was bad enough the whole team knew, but once the entire office started catching on...(Y/N) could barely enter the same room as Reid before someone made a teasing comment.

Yet somehow, someway, Spencer Reid still had zero clue that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) had the biggest crush on him.

It really did start out as just an innocent crush. The way Spencer constantly seemed to gravitate towards (Y/N)'s cubicle, the way he always seemed to agree with (Y/N)'s profiles or the way Hotch constantly paired the two up when working a case.

So if you really thought about it, it was technically all Hotch's fault.

He had to have known that (Y/N)'s already budding affection for the Spencer would turn into something other than platonic.

It wasn't unjustified of (Y/N) to have a crush, I mean how could someone not have a crush on the infamous Dr. Spencer Reid?

From his charming smile, to that stupidly adorable satchel he carried around...(Y/N) honestly should've quit the first day she saw him if she wanted any chance of making it out alive.

And yet, no matter how many times he walked up to her desk to ask her opinion on a case. The crush only grew stronger.

The team certainly didn't help either.

"He never asks for my opinion on cases." Derek teased, leaning over (Y/N)'s cubicle wall. A cup of joe grasped tightly in his hand.

Before (Y/N) could answer, Emily chimed in. "Me neither!"

Both Derek and Emily looked towards Garcia who was on her way back to her 'BatCave' after dropping some files off on Hotch's desk.

"Nope!" She replied, already knowing the question that was soon to be flung at her.

Well that certainly had to mean something. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel heat rise to her cheeks as she realized just how often Spencer came clambering over to her desk asking about cases and reports.

Derek laughed, patting (Y/N) on the shoulder before returning to the report he'd been dragging his feet on all day.

----

Later that day, as (Y/N)'s workload was down to a few pieces of paperwork and a handful of emails. She found herself waltzing over to Spencer's desk, leaning against the cubicle in an attempt to seem relaxed.

It took a few moments for Reid to realize she was there, but when he did his big brown eyes trailed upwards like a puppy looking to it's owner.

He smiled, opening his mouth to talk but she cut him off beforehand. "Have you had lunch?" She asked boldly, mentally she was screaming at herself because of course Spencer had lunch. The man ran on a schedule.

A schedule she knew like the back of her hand.

"Oh! Yeah! I had leftover pad-thai." He smiles, his pen tapping against the desk rhythmically. (Y/N) let out a small "ohh..", trailing off into thought.

Spencer smiled at her, "...Did you need help on a case?" He asked, "No!" She shouted, before clearing her throat.

"No. I um- I wanted to see...if..." (Y/N) took a deep breath before biting the bullet. She was going to do this because she wanted too, because she wanted to spend time with Spencer. Alone.

"I wanted to see if you would be interested in accompanying me to the vending machine." She said, immediately regretting it when Spencer's brows furrowed and his head tilted.

"It's just down the hall?" He questioned, giving (Y/N) a puzzled look. "I don't like the snacks in that one." (Y/N) lied, she actually only liked the snacks in that one.

That totally wasn't the reason she originally wanted to be in the BAU though.

Spencer thought for a moment before he stood up, grabbing his water bottle on the way before waiting for (Y/N) to lead the way.

----

"Y'know, Derek's jealous." (Y/N) joked as they waited for the elevator to meet the bottom floor. "Jealous? Jealous of who?" He asked, his voice hitching like it always did when he asked a question.

"Of me" (Y/N) mumbled, trying to hide her smirk. "...because you don't ask him for help with cases...only me." (Y/N) added, the context causing Reid to laugh softly.

"Seriously? I thought Derek had a much stronger ego than that." He joked, (Y/N) wrinkled their nose up in laughter as the duo stepped out into the lobby of the building. Now in pursuit of the vending machines.

"I like how you format your reports." Reid commented as they turned a corner, in all honesty (Y/N) had zero clue where she was headed but as long as she pretended to be know where she was going, which she was scarily good at, Spencer would follow along.

"Really? Hotch said Strauss complained about them the first few times." (Y/N) remarked, a sense of pride spreading over her chest. Spencer liked the way she wrote her reports.

"It's easy to follow, but still detailed." He complimented, (Y/N) felt their ears turning a light shade of red.

----

After a lot of dead ends ( (Y/N) had words for the person who designed this building.), the duo had finally found the Lobby-Level vending machine.

"Y'know Florida holds the record for the most vending machines." Spencer noted as (Y/N) searched for what she wanted.

"Really?" She entertained. Unlike most of the team, (Y/N) never actually got tired of hearing Spencer's facts and statistics. In fact, she quite enjoyed them.

"Yeah! Texas and California being close runner-ups." He smiled, excited she'd taken interest in the fact he had spewed. "Don't mess with Texas." (Y/N) joked as she dialed in the correct numbers for the treats she wanted.

"That's all your eating for lunch?" Spencer asked, eyebrow raised. "It's not like we're traveling today, I don't need lots." (Y/N) shrugged. "But that's it? Just hot fudge Pop-Tarts and a box of Runts??" Spencer questioned.

"I'll be fine, you worry too much." (Y/N) laughed, picking up their treats and tucking them into her purse. Spencer rolled his eyes as he moved his hair away from his face.

As the two made their way back upstairs, (Y/N) couldn't help but stand a bit closer to Spencer. Even if there was nobody else there.

"Y'know Reid, your the only one I consult on cases too." (Y/N) shared, nervously biting the inside of her cheek as Spencer took a moment to reply.

"I know." Spencer replied, a smile evident in his tone. "Of course you know." (Y/N) teased, stepping out of the elevator.

Spencer laughed, beginning to make his way back over to his desk.

----

A few weeks had passed and Spencer hadn't missed a single trip down to the lobby vending machine.

"Y'know, you don't have to come with me." (Y/N) said, feeling bad she'd dragged Spencer away from his paperwork at least once a day.

"I know, but what if the vending machine like...falls on you?" Spencer joked, though the worry had popped up a few times in his mind. "In what world would that ever happen??" (Y/N) asked as she waited for her box of Runts to fall from the spiral.

"37 deaths happened just in the years 1978-1995." Spencer spewed, causing (Y/N) to roll her eyes. "Well, if that happens to me I promise you can sue to FBI and keep the money." She joked, picking up the boxed candy.

Spencer wrinkled his nose, "I don't want money, I want my coworker." He said. (Y/N) felt their heart beat faster. "Really? You'd take me over winning a lawsuit and getting rich?" She asked, eyes meeting his as he leaned against the wall.

"(Y/N), if I wanted to be rich I'd play more poker." He joked, causing (Y/N) to stifle a laugh. "It's still sweet." She mumbled, causing a light pink blush to spread across Spencer's face.

Holy Shit. She'd done it.

After working for him for over three years, after tirelessly trying to flirt with the man. She'd gotten Dr. Spencer Reid to blush.

Spencer blinked a few times before taking a deep breath, "Uh- are you going to Rossi's after work?" He asked, obviously trying to switch the subject.

(Y/N) didn't answer. Still flabbergasted over the fact Spencer Reid blushed because of her.

Spencer waited a reply, switching between glancing over at her and up to check the how many floors until they reached theirs.

"...(Y/N)?" He asked, his tone turning to one of concern.

Maybe it was the fact that (Y/N) had been surviving off of vending machine food for lunch everyday just to spend time with Spencer.

Or maybe it was the fact she'd waited 3+ years to get a blush out of Spencer.

Either way it didn't matter, because (Y/N)'s mouth started speaking before she could determine if what she was saying was a good idea.

"I like you." She said, there was no taking it back now. Not even the butterflies that instantly appeared in her stomach could take away what she'd just said.

Spencer's brow furrowed.

"Three. Years." She breathed. "I have liked you for over three years, Spencer." She said, her voice more confident now.

"(Y/N)-" Spencer's eyes glanced at the electronical sign that told him what floor they were on just for a moment before snapping back to her eyes.

"Over three years, I have...flirted with you, bought you gifts, I learned how to play chess." (Y/N) listed off on her fingers, the butterflies in her stomach turning to wasps.

"You love chess?" He said, tilting his head in confusion.

"THAT'S WHAT YOU CARE ABOUT?" (Y/N) yelled, "I hate chess. It's the most boring board game there is. My favorite board game is CANDYLAND." (Y/N) continued.

"I have put my love life on pause for over three years." (Y/N)'s voiced filled the elevator.

"For, you." She continued.

Her voice was so powerful, so full of frustration and desire that neither of the Agents heard the elevator 'Ding!' nor the door open.

"Spencer Reid you are the smartest idiot I have ever met." She finished, taking a deep breath.

The silence that followed was so thick, it couldn't have been cut with a butter knife.

"...I like you too, (Y/N)." Spencer muttered out, a deep shade of red overtaking his face.

Cheers.

Spencer and (Y/N) whipped their head towards the elevator doors, finally realizing that they'd opened.

There Derek and Garcia stood, cheering. Derek's arm in the way of the doors closing as Garcia excitedly bounced up in down spewing out excited nonsense. "Finally! Finally!" She cheered, her hair bouncing excitedly.

(Y/N)'s face turned hot with embarrassment as she looked between all three of her colleagues. Spencer's face was still red, but it was unclear for what reason.

(Y/N) pushed past both Garcia and Derek. Making a beeline for her desk, grabbing her car keys and rushing to the stairwell because the elevators were still too crowded.

"(Y/N)! Wait!" Spencer called after her, his lanky legs struggling to keep up. Reid didn't think he'd ever seen her run this fast in the field.

(Y/N), of course did not wait.

----

After both Garcia and Emily confirmed that (Y/N) hadn't quit her job out of pure embarrassment, all that was left to do is wait.

Hotch informed Spencer that (Y/N) would be coming back to work after a week, she'd used a whole sick week just to avoid the embarrassment.

Well, a week was up and Spencer was pacing by his desk looking at both the clock on the wall and his watch as if that would make time go by any faster.

Thankfully, the bundle of flowers he picked up from the supermarket yesterday hadn't begun to wilt. The hot fudge Pop-Tarts and box of runts were waiting patiently for (Y/N) to walk out of the elevator any second.

Spencer, however, was not waiting as patiently. "Kid, if you walk in one more circle your gonna tear the carpet." Derek mumbled, not taking his eyes away from the paperwork.

"What if she took another week off? What if she really did quit-"

DING!

Spencer's eyes immediately met yours as soon as you stepped into the bullpen. Then, he watched as your eyes trailed down to the flowers and treats he'd displayed on your desk.

A sweet smile was shared between the two of you. Spencer took initiation (it was only fair, you'd only been leading the way for over three years) and walked over to you, ignoring Derek's whispered encouragement.

"Spence, this is so sweet but...I think if I eat one more Pop-Tart I'm gonna actually need a sick week." (Y/N) said, laughing quietly.

"I KNEW IT!" Spencer yelled, causing her laughs to grow louder.

"You really are the smartest idiot I know." She joked, causing Spencer to roll his eyes.

Spencer smiled, "I uh...there's this place I like to go for lunch if-"

"Oh my god, yes." (Y/N) breathed, excitedly holding onto Spencer's arm. Spencer laughed, nodding.

"It's a date."

#criminal minds fluff #criminal minds preferences #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #derek morgan #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds headcannons #criminal minds drabbles #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid headcannons #dr spencer reid

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stop-talking · 1 month

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J-hutch Characters on a road trip... together.

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Futturman: "I... uh, I think you missed the exit..."

Mike: *straining to hear over the loud-ass music Clapton is blasting* "WHAT?"

Derek: *scrolling through his phone* "Oh, yeah, forgot to tell you to turn. My bad."

Mike: "GODDAMN IT. What the hell are you even doing on that thing? I thought you said it had a map?"

Derek: *scoffs and waves his phone in Mike's face while he drives* "I'm checking the current value of dogecoin! It just went up 8%!"

Clapton: "No fair! You only got shotgun because you were supposed to navigate!"

Derek: "I got shotgun because I'm an adult, brat."

Mike: *increasingly agitated* "What the FUCK is a dogecoin?"

Futturman: "Guys, PLEASE. Stop yelling. I'll check where the next turn is..."

Billy: *kicking Derek's seat* "No, the kid's right. This bastard should do it."

Clapton: "I'M NOT A KID!"

Derek: *turning in his seat to glare at Billy* "What did you just call me?"

Mike: "All of you SHUT THE FUCK UP."

Clapton: "...yes sir."

Futturman: "Oh, that's it! That's the exit!" *Points to a spot less than 50 feet away*

*Mike swerves harshly, cutting through three lanes and getting honked at by at least two cars.*

Billy: "FUCK! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US, MAN??"

Mike: "This is why I wanted to use a goddamn paper map."

Derek: *trying to compose himself after nearly pissing his pants* "What is this, the 90s?"

Clapton: "H-hey, the 90s were pretty cool..."

Billy: "Kid, you weren't even alive in the 90s."

Clapton: "Yes I was! I was born in '93!"

Futturman: "I'm supposed to believe you're a year older than me?"

Mike: *Glancing back at Futturman in the rearview mirror* "You're seven?"

Derek: "CAN NONE OF YOU DO MATH???"

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I just couldn't get this Idea out of my head... but I didn't want to write an entire fic about it, so enjoy this little blurb. (This is assuming that they are all in the year 2024, but still from their respective time periods.)

Also this is how I imagine they would sit. Clapton in the middle because he's the smallest, and Derek up front because he's a brat. (Also because Mike had to forcibly separate him and Billy...) Futturman spends the whole trip trying to de-escalate everyone.

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #derek danforth #the beekeeper #mike schmidt #fnaf movie #mikeschmidt #fnafmovie #billy burn #clapton davis #clapton detention #detention 2011 #detention movie #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #josh futturman #josh futterman #future man #future man 2017

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 3 months

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I was wondering if you could help me find a specific sterek fic?

General tropes I remember: It was an AU where Stile’s mother is still alive, the hale pack is still alive, werewolves are known (either to everybody or just Stile’s family, can’t remember), some form of mates/soulmates exist, and Stiles has some type of magic.

What I can remember of the story: It starts off with some sort of Hale picnic that Stiles family is invited to and while it is happening Stiles and Derek feel that they are mates but Stiles starts panicking cause he knows Derek is dating someone. This causes drama that I can’t remember much of but while it is happening someone else is trying to drain the Nementon by performing blood sacrifices to poison it. Eventually the person draining the Nementon tricks the person Derek was dating into helping them kidnap Derek so they could reach Stiles and drain his magics as well, under the promise that they will help them get back together with Derek.

Hi @gaypornaddict! @wolfandravenrecs says it's this one.

My Sea to Your Shore by Aquila_Star

(1/1 I 66,178 I Explicit I Sterek)

The setting was idyllic, but when he looked down at the poor animal caught in the trap, struggling for its life and its freedom, he saw only how its desperation mirrored his own, the trap he was caught in just as unforgiving. Unlike the rabbit, Derek's trap was not the result of random bad luck. It was a trap of his own making.

As he headed back to the house, he couldn't help but wonder if there was someone who could wrangle him from his trap, and whether he would survive to see his freedom.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #lost fic #magic!stiles

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teencopandthesourwolf · 3 months

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AGAINST ALL ODDS

for @sterekdrabbles 22.01.24 challenge. the prompt words were: WHITE, LISTEN and UPSET. the end of the month theme was: GENTLENESS. #teen wolf movie fix-it, #magical stiles stilinski, #derek lives, #stiles stilinski is eli hale's other parent.

Looking at Eli, his heart burned hotter than the flames.

I love you, son.

His boy cried Dad! and Derek doubted his divine move…

“No.”

Derek's eyes flew open.

Stiles?!

Bright light, then—

Blackness.

His head hurt.

I'm alive?

“Listen, I don't care how upset you'll be: I gave my jeep to the kid. Because fuck you, Derek.”

Derek tried swallowing.

“He's mine too? Right?”

Shit.

“Stiles—”

“I would’ve come back.”

Derek burned again.

“Exactly,” he whispered.

Stiles sighed.

“No more self-sacrifice.”

After a lifetime, Derek nodded.

Stiles rolled his eyes, shoved him and said, “Move over.”

So, Derek did.

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specialagentlokitty · 11 months

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Derek hale x Sister!reader - my sister

Hi so this is the request I try to send you before through the inbox. I wanted to know if you could write a Derek Hale x big sister reader where the reader is very very protective like almost overprotective of him ( he could be her anchor )and I wanted to see how the whole pack would react to that because everyone know that Derek can take care of himself and also that he's very strong, they don't really understand why the reader is so protective over him and then someone explain why she so protectives over him ( it could be Chris, Peter, Noah or even Deaton) and that since the fire it got a little bit more worse. Please, I love how you write the siblings bond that I read on your blog. Sorry it's very long - @bakakara666💜

Looking at your little brother come limping into the loft, you pointed to the couch and he sat down, watching as you wondered away.

Everyone else filed in behind Derek, Scott a little injured but nowhere near as bad as Derek was, and they watched as you came back over.

You dragged the coffee table over and sat in front of Derek, taking his arm in yours as you wordlessly tended to his wounds.

“Doesn’t he know how to do that himself…?” Stiles whispered.

“Of course he does idiot.” Peter hissed.

Peter looked at you carefully tending to your brothers wounds and he sighed softly.

“Then why is (Y/N) doing it?” Lydia asked.

You glared at them all, and Peter ushered the into a different part of the loft while you carried on helping your brother.

“What happened?” You asked.

“Hunters, nothing serious don’t worry.”

You nodded your head very slowly, and began to clean the wounds on his other arm.

“How’s your side?” You asked.

“Healing, it should be mostly healed now.” He said.

You nodded again.

Derek looked down at you, your tired eyes focusing carefully on what you were doing and he sighed a little bit.

“You don’t have to do this.” He said.

“Yes I do.”

Derek reached up, grabbing your wrist in his hand and stopped you, forcing you to turn your attention up to him.

“You don’t. It’ll heal.”

“I have to do this Derek.”

You both stared at one another for a few moments before he slowly let go of your wrist, letting you go back to looking after him.

“Are they still alive?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

You tossed everything into a bag and set it aside, standing up, you began to walk towards the door.

“(Y/N) don’t!”

Everyone else came out of the room to see you standing in front of the doors to the loft, yellow eyes fixated on the door.

“(Y/N).” Peter warned.

You glared at him.

“Leave it, they’re not worth it.” Derek said.

You slowly turned around, your yellow eyes staring into his blue ones.

“They hurt you. That’s all the do. Hurt.” You growled.

“And we handled it they’re not coming back. It’s fine.”

Derek walked over and he placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t do it…” he whispered.

Gazing at your brother, you sighed, letting your eyes return to normal as you nodded and walked away to properly clean up.

Derek sighed heavily as he looked at you.

“What would she have done…?” Alison whispered.

“She would’ve ripped every hunter she came across to bits without thinking twice about it.” Derek said.

“So she’s dangerous? Great!” Stiles scoffed.

Derek turned around, grabbing stiles by the shirt and pulled him of his feet a little bit while everyone called for him to stop.

“My sister is not dangerous.” Derek growled.

He dropped stiles, shoving him back a few steps.

“Don’t ever call her that again.”

With that, Derek stormed away and when you noticed you went after him, calling his name.

Stile turned to Peter.

“What the hell is his problem?” Stiles asked.

Peter glared at Stiles.

“He doesn’t have a problem you called his sister, by niece, dangerous of course he’s going to be pissed.”

“Why is (Y/N) so protective of Derek?” Lydia asked.

Peter glanced towards the stairs then gestured to the couch, so everyone went to sit down and he stood in front of them all, arms crossed over his chest.

Upstairs you were sat with Derek, your hand in his as you both just sat silently.

“She’s always been protective of him. Older than him by 5 years, (Y/N) always felt the need to look after Derek. If he fell, she was there, scared, upset, angry she was right there for it all.”

Peter sat down on the table like you did.

“They were incredibly close. After the fire she became more protective, she had lost everyone aside from him.”

Peter glanced to the stairs again before looking at them.

“Derek is protective of her, sure. But she would bring this whole town to its knees if she had to just to keep him safe. (Y/N) can’t loose anymore of her family, it would tear her apart.”

Everyone nodded their heads.

“That’s why she was going to go find those hunters, right?” Scott asked.

“Exactly, she’d have killed them if Derek hadn’t stopped her. He’s the only one who can keep her temper in check, so remember that when you’re trying to get him arrested again.”

You stood up, placing your hand on Derek’s shoulder as you turned around to look at him.

“You’re okay, right?” You asked.

“I’m fine, I promise. Don’t worry about it’s nothing.”

You nodded your head a little and walked over to the window to look outside.

“Next time I’m coming with you.”

Derek glanced at you and said nothing about it because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to stop you.

If you wanted to go you would, and he knew there was absolutely no way that he could stop you from doing it, all he could do was stop you from trying to kill anyone who hurt him

#teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x you #teen wolf x y/n #Derek hale #derek hale x reader #derek hale x y/n #Derek hale x you #Derek hale imagine

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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 11 months

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My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader)

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) Word Count: 14,842 Reader insert: she/her pronouns. She is not American unless you are, just has a previous history in American law enforcement. Warnings: mentions of murder, crime scenes, guns, near-death experiences, slow-burn romance, drug addiction, death, and some MAJOR FLUFF! Spoilers: none, as Criminal Minds has been out for literal decades so don't get mad.

All his life, Dr. Spencer Reid has been told he is a genius - gifted, different. When you, a new member of the BAU, arrive, he expects the same weirded-out reaction from you as everyone does. But when you don't, and you instead find him interesting, Spencer finds himself forming an attachment to you. And as the years go on, is it really any wonder that he falls for you?

This is six times you secretly say I love you to Spencer, and one time he says it back in the same fashion.

This man has been eating my brain alive for the past few weeks and I know I'm late but damn he deserves all the appreciation he gets. This was just a silly little idea I had because I'm the kind of person to get obsessed quickly and can't move on until I write it out of my system. Seeing how long this turned out, I have split each moment into six smaller, digestible chapters as linked below. Enjoy xx

Spencer Reid was performing some of his physics magic for his colleagues when he first saw you.

He'd just mixed up some water with an antacid tablet and placed within a film canister. He'd done it a hundred times on his own, but he'd only just joined the BAU two months ago, and JJ and Derek hadn't seen it before so he just had to do it. Quickly placing the lid on, he said, 'You can turn around now.'

'I don't understand why we had to in the first place,' Derek said as he grumpily turned around.

'A magician never tells his secrets,' Spencer said, rubbing his hands gleefully. To him, showing off his intellect never got boring.

Well, show off wasn't the proper term. He understood that he could be a lot for some people, knowing so much for a man in his early twenties that looked barely old enough to be out of school, let alone with three Bachelors and PHDs under his belt already. Spouting little known facts or remembering minute details about cases that went back thirty to forty years was just his way of expressing himself. It was his way of contributing to the team. And while his team was getting used to his ramblings and intellect, even demonstrated admiration for it, others would call him a freak.

'If you ask me,' JJ said, 'I wouldn't want to know how he does some things.'

'Fair,' Derek replied, all their eyes on the film canister.

Spencer watched it in anticipation, how the bubbles slipped out between the lid and the canister slowly at first, then started bubbling faster and bigger and-

POP!

The canister rocketed up towards the roof, and all three of them watched with wide eyes as it arced over the bullpen and then down to meet the-

'Ow!'

Spencer ducked into his chair as he watched a young lady in a loose button up shirt, dress pants and boots pat her head. He heard JJ and Derek scurry away, but Spencer remained staring at the woman. Who is she? he thought, his eyes scanning over her.

Your (h/c) hair caught the sunlight, giving it a glow that had Spencer mesmerised. Your (s/c) skin shone with it, making your (e/c) eyes stand out most beautifully. And when you stood back up and made eye contact with him, canister in hand, he found himself frozen, unable to avoid the conclusion that he was the culprit.

'What is this, Reid?' Hotch said, walking up to his desk not looking the least bit impressed. 'Actually, don't answer that. Just don't do it again.'

'Sorry,' Spencer murmured out, a guilty smile stretching his lips slightly.

Hotch blew out a sigh. 'Never mind that now. I would like to introduce you to our new team member. Agent (Y/n) (L/n), a transfer from LA.'

Spencer finally realised that you had walked up with Hotch, and now that you were so close (literally standing a desk apart from one another), he was lost for words at how bright your smile was, and how beautiful you looked that way.

'So you're the one that thought my head was a good landing place for your little... rocket,' you said offering the film canister back, laughter dancing in your words.

It took Spencer a moment for him to realise you wanted him to take the canister back, so he scrambled to his feet, fingers fumbling for the canister. 'No, I-I was just showing how a-an antacid reacts with water, and how, put into a small, confined place, that can cause a chemical, gas-like reaction and cause it to exploded.'

'And launch it like a rocket?' you asked.

He paused as he watched your smile slip a little. Oh no. He'd done it again - made someone feel dumber than him. And while technically that was true, he never meant to make anyone feel like that.

'Y-Yeah?' he answered, awkwardness rising up in his throat, freezing his limbs, his brain.

But then suddenly your smile returned, melting his fear and doubt as you said, 'Cool! I've always loved chemistry. I actually did a Bachelor of Science with a major in archaeological science and a minor in chemistry before I started my BA in Criminology.'

'And now you're here,' he said, a soft smile of his own tugging at his lips.

You nodded, looking around what would now be your new home. 'And now I'm here.'

'Fascinating,' Spencer breathed out. He didn't mean to, but it made you smile more so he didn't mind. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't introduced himself. He struck out his arm, rigid as a board, and offered his hand. 'Sorry, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'Pleasure to meet you, doctor,' you said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. You skin was as soft as it looked, Spencer noted. 'I very much look forward to working with you and the rest of the team as we go forward.'

'We've got a briefing in five minutes, Reid,' Hotch interrupted, moving to step away from the conversation. 'I'll introduce you to the rest of the team then, (L/n). And if I find you firing another film canister through the sky, Reid-'

'Yes, yes, sorry, no more rockets. Airspace Reid is officially grounded,' Spencer quickly replied, not wanting to get lectured like a twelve-year-old like he usually did.

Your tinkling laughter drew his attention back to you, and he was baffled by the wonderment dancing in your eyes as you looked at him. 'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'T-Thanks?' he replied, although he wasn't quite sure if you were making fun of him or not. Most people did if they didn't straight up tell him he was annoying.

Hotch walked away, but you remained for a moment, leaning in close to whisper, 'That's a good thing, by the way.'

'Oh. Right.'

You flashed him one last smile before following your new unit chief, falling back into easy conversation with him as you gracefully floated through the chaotic goings of the office. Spencer couldn't take his eyes off you as you did, in awe of your grace and poise, and how you didn't even stumble when you spoke with him. You were genuine, upfront and honest. You couldn't be much older than himself, he noted, perhaps even younger. He was used to being the baby of the team, but it looked like that would be changing.

The prospect of being able to connect with someone his own age sent an unfamiliar but not unwelcome flutter through his heart.

'Oh, you've got it bad.'

Spencer spun in his chair to see JJ and Derek standing behind him once more, watching him with knowing grins.

'What? What have I got?' he asked. 'I'm not sick... I don't think.'

JJ rolled her eyes and giggled as she walked away, Spencer just catching a quiet, 'This'll be fun,' as she did. But Derek walked closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, and that knowing grin stretched wider, more feline and cheeky.

'Don't worry, pretty boy,' he said. 'You'll figure it out soon. You're smart, right?'

'Well, smart isn't really the quite term for someone with an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187-'

'And pep talk is over,' Derek interrupted, abruptly walking away back to his desk and leaving Spencer in a disarray of emotions.

So he looked back to where you had gone, and found you speaking with Penelope, nodding enthusiastically to whatever she was talking to you about. But you weren't just being polite, you appeared genuinely interested in the conversation, even though Spencer noted you barely contributed to it.

'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

All his life, Spencer had been told he was a genius - gifted, different. It had just become an effortless part of who he is. It was almost expected at this point to see weirded-out or overly-amazed expressions from people he didn't know. So why then, when you said that to him, did he feel happy about it?

He checked his watch. Almost briefing time. He got up from his seat and made his way to the briefing room where only a place beside you was available. Maybe he would find out soon enough.

It became a casual thing, for you to comment on how wonderful Dr. Spencer Reid was. Every day in the office, whenever you travelled to cases, even out in the field, sometimes in not-so-great situations.

It was only ever once, but you always managed to find something to say, 'You are a wonder, Dr Reid,' to him. Sometimes it was his full name, sometimes just doctor. Sometimes, he was just Spencer. Apart from JJ, you were the only one who ever really called him by his first name. Oddly enough for him, he liked it when he was just Spencer, not the Boy Genius or freak or computer.

But the next time you told him that and it meant something to him was ten months after he ended his drug addiction.

He sat at his desk in the bullpen finishing some paperwork, or at least attempting to. They'd just gotten back from a long and exhausting case and his brain (the very thing he knew he could always rely on) refused to coordinate with his hands and eyes. The information he wished to write out felt jammed at his fingers tips, appeared blurry in his vision.

'Gosh,' he breathed out, leaning back in his seat defeated as he rubbed at his tired eyes. No doubt black bags sagged beneath them.

It had been a long, exhausting case. The team had gone to Dallas to find a serial killer who'd been leaving a trail of dead doctors and pharmacists over the span of months which had suddenly turned into weeks, then days once the team joined the case.

The unsub had spiralled, devolved so to say, alluding to a psychotic break. But when they'd found him, he was not the malicious, sadistic person they'd first expected. Spencer was the first on the scene and had instead found a young man in his early twenties, not much younger than himself. All he'd wanted was some off-market narcotic that took away the pain from the physical abuse he received from his father.

And while Spencer's trauma was not the same, he couldn't help but see the parallels. When he'd looked the young man in the eyes, it was like looking into a mirror. All he saw was himself, drowning in his own trauma, his own fear, his own pain.

Spencer scoped the bullpen, suddenly noticing the silence. Not a single person was left. He then looked at his watch - half past ten. He hadn't noticed people leaving whatsoever. Not surprising considering his current state, his current condition.

Spencer slowly reached down to the bottom drawer of his desk, a sudden urge coursing through him to do so. Slowly again, almost hesitantly, he pulled it open and leafed through the many spare manilla folders that sat oddly in there until he reached the bottom.

It was just one vial, but just the mere sight of it sent relief rushing through Spencer. Dilaudid. He gently cradled it up to his eyes, admiring how the glass doors of the entrance became obscured as he looked through the transparent but murky liquid. After this case, what he wouldn't give to have a needle right now. Just one hit-

'Well, if it isn't Dr. Spencer Reid burning the midnight oil.'

Spencer almost dropped the vial as he scrambled to shove it deep into his pant pocket just as you appeared out of nowhere from the conference room.

'Sorry,' you said, an apologetic smile already on your lips. 'I didn't mean to startle you.'

'It's okay,' he replied as casually as possible. It was one thing to nearly be caught out by your colleague that you had an illegal narcotic you used to have an addiction for in your hand, but another when that colleague is one you've admired since the day you met. 'I was lost in thought, anyways.'

'Well just as well then. I can only imagine how depthless your brain must go with all that knowledge crammed in there.' You walked down the stairs to the floor of the bullpen and walked to him. You were still in your clothes from the past twenty-four hours, and your light makeup looked like it was lifting off your face like a second skin. Even your unrelenting smile seemed to sag with exhaustion.

Spencer straightened up in his seat, suddenly concerned. 'You okay, (Y/N)? You look-'

'Like trash?' you finished as you pulled up a chair of your own and sat in front of him. 'I have no doubt.'

Spencer looked behind your back into the conference room, his eyebrows furrowing when he spotted stacks of folders and loose paperwork spread across the table. 'That all yours?'

You looked back to the mess of words and paper you'd just escaped and sighed dramatically. 'Oh, yeah. Seems like the longer the case, the more paperwork you have to do. Poor trees.'

'Yeah...' Spencer found it odd how much paperwork you had to get through. Even he didn't have that much to get through. But before he could question you about it, your soft voice filled the damning void that surrounded him.

'How are you feeling, you know, after this case?'

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'Don't give me that,' you say, your smile now replaced by a seriousness Spencer only saw on you when you were making an arrest or in really dire situations. You've worked together for almost three years now, he knew all the faces you pulled, all of your likes and dislikes, how you liked your coffee only after you've completed one task for the day to prove you can survive without it but choose not to.

He knows you, so it should not be surprising that you know him just as well.

'The moment we found out the unsub's objective, you've been a little... off.'

'Well, it shouldn't be surprising considering that was me just ten months ago,' he said matter-of-factly, pulling back into his shell, putting up his guard. 'I mean, if Hotch hadn't have found out about it, that could've been me-'

'No it wouldn't have.'

Spencer scoffed, but not in a demeaning manner. He just didn't believe you for a moment because he could see the facts, the statistics, in his head. 'Over 45% percent of addicts relapse at least twice. This is without the intervention or support by health care clinics and families and friends, and this case just proved that. So, yes, it could've been-'

'But it wasn't,' you intervened again, your voice echoing like soft thunder through the empty office. It gave you presence, forcing Spencer to look at you, like really look at you, and face what you were about to say.

'You had help and support from people that care about you, Spence,' you continued, sitting forward in your seat. 'And I don't care about the statistics, you're not one of them. You're your own person and you can determine where you add value in life, not by some... statistically-informed percentage prediction... thing.'

That drew a laugh out him, the quiet but sudden sound surprising him slightly. 'Stastically-informed percentage prediction, huh?'

'Shut up,' you grumbled and playfully punched his shoulder. When you both calmed down, you continued. 'When I realised who we were looking for, for a moment I kind of got scared.'

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow 'Scared?'

You nodded. 'The truth is that... when you were kidnapped and... you had to endure all that pain alone... I was terrified. We all were. Even when we found you, I was terrified. Because I knew you would never be the same, and not that it's your problem, but I knew in that moment that I would never forgive myself for not finding you sooner. For not going with you and JJ to the farm.'

Tears welled up in your eyes and Spencer immediately leant forward. To do what, he didn't know, he just needed you to know he was there for you, like you always were for him.

'I'm sorry,' you mutter, blinking the tears away before they could fall. 'Your trauma is not my own. I have no right to express my guilt.'

'There's nothing to feel guilty for,' he said, reaching out slowly with his hands, the ones that slightly shook as he laid them on your own.

To his relief, you smiled. It wasn't full, but it was there. 'You're a horrible liar, Spencer Reid.' That brought some laughter out of you both, lightening the suffocating air of the office.

'But even when we found out about you and the dilaudid,' you continued, pulling yourself together, if only to let Spencer know your true thoughts. 'I wasn't even mad.'

A large lump formed in Spencer's throat, and he had a hard time swallowing it along with the threat of tears that burned behind his amber eyes. 'You... You weren't?'

It was the mixture of surprise and hope that pulled at your heart, that made you feel obligated to keep speaking. 'Why should I have been? I was not the one who was tortured mentally and physically by a split-personality murderer; and who also witnesses the darkest, most ugliest aspects of humanity every single day of his life. It was not my place to judge how you hold onto your own humanity.'

Your eyes until then had never left his, but they flickered downwards then, and Spencer froze at where your gaze landed.

It only lasted a moment before your eyes returned to his, and it startled him the lack of sympathy he finds there, but instead warmth. 'It is still not my place to judge,' you said, twisting your hands so they could clasp his fully. 'All I know is that... you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. So much stronger than me, JJ, Pen, Emily - heck, I'd say you're even stronger than Derek. But not Hotch, Gideon, and Rossi, though. Then again, no one is.'

You both chuckled at that, and all the tension in his body seemed to dissipate at the sound. So light and airy, it was what he imagined heaven sounded like.

'The point is,' you continued, giving his hands a squeeze, 'you are a wonder, Spencer Reid. We all see it. You've just got to now see it, too.'

Spencer stared at you, dumbfounded and conflicted within himself. He felt like he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. And a great urge to suddenly engulf you in a hug started itching his limbs, which was weird because he didn't care much physical affection, or affection in general. But before he could decide what he wanted to do, you decided for him.

You gave his hands one last squeeze before letting go and standing up. The absence of your touch left him cold as he followed you as you went back into the conference room to pack up. Surprisingly it didn't take you long until you came back out, your coat and bag in hand.

'Don't stay up too long, now,' you said as you passed him by, your smile so radiant it was almost as if you weren't crying just a few minutes before. 'We've got a long day ahead.'

As soon as the elevator door closed on you, he pulled out the vial of dilaudid and stared it down. It was like it was taunting him, sitting idly, innocently, in his palm, as if it knew he desperately wanted it, needed it.

'...you are stronger than you give yourself credit for... you are a wonder, Spencer Reid. We all see it. You've just got to now see it, too.'

For some reason, though, he suddenly didn't need it. The fire, the urge, the want and reliance for it - he was suddenly weightless with clarity, if only for a moment.

Spencer chucked the vial in the dumpster outside the office when he left. It was hard, but he did it. He knew he wasn't cured, that there was still a long road ahead. But it was a start.

The next day when he came into the office, Derek was the first to comment on his haggard appearance.

'Seriously man,' he said, trailing Spencer out of the break room, 'you look like a ghoul. Did you sleep at all last night.'

'I was here late last night doing paperwork,' he explained, sitting himself and his coffee down at his desk. 'You should go see (y/n), she probably looks a little worse for wear herself from staying late last night, too.'

'Oh, she stayed late too, did she?'

'It's not like that,' Spencer insisted, swatting at Derek pathetically. 'She had a mountain of paperwork to finish of her own.'

'Y/N?' Emily said as she walked by with JJ, identical coffees in their hands. 'She finished her paperwork at about the same time I did.'

'Yeah, we were walking out together before she turned back into the office. Said she had to talk with Hotch,' JJ said.

'I remember that,' Spencer added. 'You guys said goodnight to me on your way out.' Not that he had responded, he suddenly recalled, a pang of guilt punching his gut.

'Who had to talk with me?' The man himself suddenly walked by, stopping at the congregated group upon hearing his name.

'Y/n,' Emily answered. 'Last night.'

'Oh, yes. She, uh, asked if there was anymore paperwork to do.'

'Why would she do that when she was done?' JJ asked.

'I don't know,' Hotch said, making his way towards his office, 'but who am I to turn away someone who wants to do paperwork for free? Now, briefing in ten minutes.'

As the others dispersed back to their desks, Spencer didn't know how to feel about this new information. It didn't help the matter when you finally dragged yourself into the office, dark circles peaking out from under your thin layer of foundation. But as you sat at your desk, eyes drooping as you logged onto your laptop, he knew just what to do.

It took you a second to register the cup of coffee being held in front of your dazed eyes, and another to realise who was holding it.

'Late night?' Spencer asked, a coy smile on his lips.

Despite your exhaustion, you managed to grab the cup without spilling any of the precious caffeine that would help you through the day. 'Yeah,' you decided to play dumb, answering as enthusiastically as possible. 'Paperwork, you know. Never-ending.'

Spencer hummed, contemplating his next words carefully. 'Well, I hope giving up your sleep was worth it, then.'

'I'd like to think it was.'

The way you didn't hesitate to answer struck a chord of truth in him that left him dumbfounded once more. Twice in under twenty-four hours? That had to be a new record for him.

But instead of freezing up, he managed an honest smile as he clanked his coffee cup with your own. 'Well... it is certainly most appreciated.'

The next time you dumbfounded him, he almost kissed you.

Ever since you had joined the BAU, you and Spencer had alway had a sweet partnership. But after that night in the office, you had become inseparable. Best friends, to put simply. You stayed late at the office to keep each other company, brought each other coffee and treats, spent free days checking out the new films playing in the cinema.

You had inside jokes, and fought like an old, married couple - a fact the team loved to bring up whenever possible. But you liked it like that. Spencer was your person, and you were his.

And as much as he wowed you everyday, you managed to surprise him on occasions, too.

You were both paired up to interrogate a suspect. You personally didn't believe she was the killer, but Spencer didn't like to base anything from solely his gut. In other words, he was skeptical.

'I didn't kill those women,' your suspect said. 'And even if wanted to kill them, it would be for something more worthwhile than a stupid role.'

'Jealously isn't as far-fetched a reason to kill as you may believe,' Spencer stated to her. 'Particularly in women, the feeling of being threatened or in danger of losing something important to them brings out almost a maternal instinct to protect what they believe to be is theirs.'

'You think all actresses are that low? That shallow?' The young woman was pretty, but her face scrunched up in an ugly manner at the insinuation.

'He doesn't think that at all,' you interjected. 'In fact, he quite likes actresses, don't you buddy?'

Spencer gave you a side eye to which you smiled sickly-sweetly at in return. You were never going to let the Lila fling down any time soon.

You looked back at the young woman, your face returning to empathetic, concerned. She had a wall up, she was wearing a mask. If you wanted answers out of her, you needed to connect with her.

You leaned forward on the table, positioning yourself in front of Spencer so all her focus was on you.

'Anna,' you said softly, like you were speaking to a friend. 'I know you didn't do it. You're different than all those other girls right? You've worked hard to get where you are. Small town girl wanting to make a name for herself in an industry that can be ruthless and heartless as the killer that's still out there. You are classically trained, by-the-book, no shortcuts. I bet you started on the stage of your elementary school, landing the lead role.'

The young woman looked at you with skepticism for a moment, then you saw a crack in her mask as she nodded. 'I was Mary in the Christmas production. But it wasn't until high school when we preformed Shakespeare's The Tempest that I knew this was what I wanted to do with my life.'

Spencer noticed your smile now, how it lifted in a manner that sung of melancholy and fondness.

'"We are such stuff as dreams are made on.",' you said whimsically, and Spencer noted a familiarity that had the words rolling off your tongue with ease. Like it was muscle memory.

'Such a beautiful line, right?' the young woman asked.

'Yes, but, when translated into our modern English, it is quite sad really.' You make eye contact with the young woman and hoped she saw the understanding and slight desperation in your eyes. 'It means that life is an illusion, and a fleeting one at that. I don't necessarily believe in the first part of that, but it is true that life is fleeting. So before you end up the next aspiring actress in our morgue, you've got to tell us everything you know.'

The rest of the interrogation went smoothly. Honestly, it was the easiest one Spencer had ever sat in before. And all the while he had just sat there in awe of you.

'I didn't know you read Shakespeare,' he said randomly as they drove together in a local police SUV to meet with the rest of the team at the new suspect's house.

You scoffed. 'See that's the biggest misconception of Shakespeare. That it can only be read. In fact, it actually shouldn't be just read. It needs to be performed.'

Amusement danced upon Spencer's lips. 'Are you saying you were in a Shakespearean play? Which one? Actually, let me guess. Romeo and Juliet.'

'That's a cliche.'

'Twelfth Night? How about Taming of the Shrew?'

'Why do you want to know so badly?'

'Because I...' It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't quite know why he wanted to know. Only that he knows everything and you were his best friend and he didn't know something about you.

You spared him a sympathetic smile from the driver's seat before returning your eyes to the road. 'If you must know... it was actually The Tempest. It was my high school's production, too. And as much as he irritates me, I grew fascinated with Shakespeare's work after that. It even prompted me to do a unit or two in Shakespearean literature and performance during my uni days.'

You allowed yourself to slip back in time a little to those days, that melancholy and fondness finding its way back into your smile, Spencer noticed.

'Outside of Shakespeare though, I'll admit... I was a theatre kid.'

'No way!' Spencer exclaimed. 'You?'

'Why is it so unbelievable that I used to dress up and spout lines that no one really understood?' you asked, but you weren't offended. Simply amused that you seemed to have stunned the (until now) un-stunnable Dr. Spencer Reid.

'Because... it's just so left of field from anyone else in the team.'

'And is that a bad thing?'

'...not at all,' he said after a moment, and then proceeded to drop the matter entirely. Spencer Reid never forgets anything, he couldn't forget, not with his eidetic memory. But he made extra special care to file that little fact about you away for now.

A few days after returning home from wrapping that case up, you came into work to find your coffee already made on your desk, and beside it was an envelope. Curious, you swiftly opened the envelope and gasped with pure surprise at what you found.

'I thought you might like them,' Spencer said as he approached you, his own coffee in hand. 'The ticket vendor said they were the best seats in the house.'

'Oh my God, Spencer!' You couldn't help yourself, you leapt onto the gangly man like a frog and held him tighter than you'd ever hugged someone before, avoiding spilling Spencer's coffee. You were so excited you even smacked a fat, grateful kiss on his unsuspecting cheek before letting him go. 'Tickets to ASC's production of The Tempest?! How did you even get these, I was told they were all gone.'

'Believe it or not, I have connections everywhere,' Spencer answered a bit too vaguely but you didn't care. 'Even in areas that aren't of my particular expertise. I figured you and a friend could go enjoy it before it finishes up.'

'You mean you're not coming?'

Spencer tried not to read into it too much, but he swore he heard a little hiccup in your question, like you were upset. 'W-Well, I, I, uh, didn't want to assume anything. I mean, y-you might want to take JJ, or Emily-

'Spencer.' It was ridiculous how easy he listened when you said his name, how he dropped everything to listen to what you had to say whenever you did. And his heart faltered when he made eye contact with you and saw joy and hope lighting up your eyes. 'Would you like to come to the show with me?'

And it wasn't any wonder, then, that he replied without hesitation, 'Y-Yeah! All right, s-sure. Would love to.'

'Amazing!' Spencer once again had to juggle his coffee and you as you squeezed all the air out of him in another bone-crushing hug. 'Spencer Reid, you have just made my day.'

It was a week later and the night of the performance. You drove yourself and Spencer two and a half hours straight from Quantico down to Staunton to the American Shakespeare Centre, reciting and recalling your favourite Shakespearean moments the whole trip.

Spencer made the extreme effort to look presentable, pulling out a nice suit set, even replacing his usual casual sneakers with some shiny boots. His hair was slicked back out of his face, with only the slightest stubble on his chin and upper lip.

When you picked him up, you said he looked handsome. He never cared much for his appearance, but that comment warmed his heart slightly, made him sit more upright in his seat.

Once you pulled up and got out of the car, he finally saw you in all your glory. A navy blue dress clung to your frame beautifully; kitten heels cradled your feet as you walked up the stairs to the theatre's entrance; your jewellery brought out the (e/c) in your eyes, even further accentuated by your simple makeup and hair.

Spencer has met Nobel price winners, attorney generals, even spoken with the most psychotic people humanity has to offer. And yet there you stood - ethereal, angelic, striking him silent with just your presence.

'You coming, Boy Wonder?'

You'd reached the top the stairs without him moving a muscle. Embarrassed, he tried to cover it up with a cough as he scrambled to catch up with you. 'Boy Wonder? Where did that come from?'

You shrugged playfully as you hooked your arm through his. 'Just seemed appropriate.'

'I'm twenty-seven, (y/n). I'm hardly a boy.'

'Oh, so would you prefer I call you Batman?'

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'I didn't know you liked DC comics.'

'There's a lot you still don't know about me, Spencer Reid,' you answered, handing over your tickets to the ticket vendor at the door. 'Like how I've always preferred Robin over Batman, anyway.'

You quickly found your seats, and Spencer tried not to acknowledge how tight-knit the seats were pressed together. His thigh pressed lightly against your own, and he couldn't tell if he hated or liked the feeling that suddenly sprouted in his gut.

It distracted him so much that instead of watching the performance, he looked at you. How you reacted to each sonnet, to the entrance of new characters, to the costuming and the music and emotion that filled the room with every word spoken. He watched it all, your joy, your love. Your heart was on your face, and it struck something new and unexplored inside him.

You cried at one point, and physical touch wasn't his forte, but he intertwined his fingers with yours and gave them a reassuring squeeze that he was there. You'd turned to him briefly and nodded, showing that you understood and that you were grateful.

You didn't let go of his hand for the rest of the show.

'Wow,' you breathed out as you exited the theatre, the performance finally done. 'That was...'

'Yeah. I feel the same,' Spencer finished, his hands shoved into his pockets as they walked down the stairs towards the carpark. His hand still burned from your touch, and that unsure feeling in his gut still remained.

'It was just so... magical.'

'I would say impressive, but magical works too, I guess.'

'Says the guy who still goes trick-or-treating on Halloween and believes in ghosts. Don't tell me you don't believe in the supernatural now.'

'I'm not saying I don't believe. I'm just saying that it's impressive that they were able to make fantastical magic seem slightly realistic.'

You playfully shove him, causing you both to fall into laughter. The two different melodies mixing together made Spencer feel lighter than he'd felt in a while. This was different to when you usually hung out. This time, there was no case, no team, nothing but yourselves to worry about.

'It doesn't matter, anyways,' you said, stopping on the steps suddenly. Spencer went down one more before stopping too. You smiled gratefully at him. It was a cool, autumn night, cool enough that your breath danced like ghosts in front of you as you spoke. 'Thank you, Spence. This was a wonderful night. You didn't have to do this.'

'I know,' he said, and it startled him how quiet and soft his voice was. 'I just... I just wanted you to enjoy the stuff you love. You deserve to enjoy the stuff you love.'

His acute eyes fell to your shoulders and noticed the slight shake in them. 'Here.' He wasted no time pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders, pulling it tight to capture the warmth.

You gratefully held onto the jacket, the warmth it captured seeping into your eyes. 'You truly are a wonder, Spencer,' you said, your words dancing in between you two.

He was only the step down now, making you two eye level with one another. He was so close he could see himself in your eyes. He wondered if you could see yourself in his.

'Am I?' he asked, his breath mixing with yours.

'Yeah...'

He felt your warmth, and he suddenly decided that he liked the feeling in his gut. The one that had been driving him crazy all night. The one that had an iron grip on his mind, his heart. The one that pulled him closer to you, to your lips.

His eyes were almost closed and his lips almost on yours. You didn't back away - you didn't want to back away you realised. No matter how hard your heart pounded in your chest. No matter if he was your best friend.

So you leaned in too, and you could just feel the stars and planets align as you tasted his breath-

The front of your heel slipped on the edge of the step, sending you flying forwards into Spencer's chest. His reflexes had improved immensely since joining the BAU, and so he managed to grab hold of you and hold himself up before your momentum could send you both tumbling down the remaining stairs.

You both breathed in heavy gulps of air, steadying both your hearts from what could've happened.

'Nice catch,' you said after a moment, loosening your grip on Spencer only a little.

'Thanks.' He didn't know where to look. You, the ground, his surroundings. It all just felt muddled, as if his whole world had been tilted on its axis.

In a sense, it had.

But he felt your gaze, and he couldn't deny your eyes so he looked at you also. You eyes were blown wide, and the slight catch in your breath had him second guessing himself. Maybe he'd read you wrong after all. He'd never been wrong before, but there was always a first time for everything, he figured.

'(Y/n), look, I-'

Before he could attempt to salvage himself, the irritating ring of his phone went off, breaking the glass dome of solitude you'd' forged together with nothing but words and air.

This forced you apart, awkwardly so, as Spencer readjusted you on his step before letting you go completely and fishing his phone out of his pant pocket. He checked the ID caller: Hotch.

He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear. 'Hotch, what's up?'

'New case,' the unit chief answered without pleasantries. 'I know we're all meant to be off for the weekend but this one is important.'

'Where is it and we'll be there.'

'You're with (Y/n), right? In Staunton?'

'Yeah, why?'

'Head to the local police. We'll meet you there. That's where the case is.'

'Okay. Gotcha.'

Hotch ended the call and then it was just him and you once more. Although instead of the air feeling freeing and warming, Spencer couldn't seem to get enough in his lungs. It was like he was suffocating, having to face you again.

So he slipped into work mode, keeping Hotch's urgency and the new case in the forefront of his mind. 'New case. Here in Staunton. Hotch wants us to head down to the police and meet them there.'

'Right.' You seemed to think the same as him - it's probably why you were best friends to begin with - as the ethereal light in your eyes dimmed with the severity of the new situation. Without another word, you both bee-lined for the car, jumped in, and made your way to the local police station.

But for the rest of the case, Spencer couldn't help but think about that moment with you on the steps. He'd kissed before, of course, even dabbled in flirting despite how little he knew about the craft. He'd never imagined he'd attempt it all on you, however. Not even in his wildest dreams.

He didn't hear your heart-stopping compliment again until it was almost too late.

After the Staunton case, you and Spencer had been... odd. Well, mainly Spencer, as he spoke as little as possible to you during cases, and always offered to go with anyone else but you on certain tasks. He even stopped coming over to yours for movie night each Saturday, claiming each time to be busy or unwell. It was Spencer's only way of ensuring nothing like that night ever happened again.

He convinced himself the moment was fleeting, just a mixture of chemicals in his brain combined with the adrenaline of being with a beautiful women he very much admired that made him read the signs wrong. You were friends, that was all you were, and all he would ever allow you to be.

This went on for three months.

And you were miserable.

Emily, JJ and Penelope recognised the change in your demeanour at work first, and when they found out the reason behind it, they slapped Spencer upside the head on their way out of the office one Friday afternoon and took you with them, promising a wonderful night out on the town.

That night, to Spencer's eventual annoyance, you'd met someone. A charming young firefighter named Riley who lived in Washington DC and was just in town to see family.

That night, you hooked up. And the next morning, he asked you on a date. That date led to another, then more. You were on your way to another one tonight when you got a phone call from JJ saying they found the latest unsub's house and were planning a raid on it.

Spencer knew you were on a date when he also got the phone call to come along. Despite his distance (by his own choice, he always had to remind himself), he kept tabs on you, checked in on you via others. And while the girls of the team were awfully mad at him, they always answered him when he asked how you were doing.

'You know, for a genius, you really are quite stupid,' JJ told him when he asked about you.

He quirked his eyebrow, genuinely confused. 'I'm sorry?'

'She's heartbroken,' Penelope added. 'Her best friend just gives her the silent treatment out of nowhere after what sounded like a magical night at the theatre. Who wouldn't be upset by that, Reid?'

'I just,' he paused, rallying his thoughts into words that couldn't quite describe how he felt. 'It's complicated.'

'Love shouldn't be complicated, Reid,' Emily interjected, a soft but sad smile gracing her painted lips.

Spencer swallowed thickly at that. 'W-What do you mean?'

Derek finished making his coffee and took a sip of it before answering. 'We all see it, Reid. You don't have to deny anymore how you feel.'

'I'm not denying anything, Morgan.'

'Maybe not to us,' Derek continued. 'But you are definitely denying it to yourself. All I can say is don't wait until it's too late. She's already slipping away.'

That's when Spencer found out about your dates with Riley, and an ugly, selfish, hurt part of him wanted to scream with anger. Mainly at himself, but the damage was done and he had to get over you.

But when you showed up to the unsub's home, your FBI bullet-proof vest on and mascara slightly smeared under your eyes, he was beyond confused. And concerned.

'You're here,' he stated matter-of-factly.

'You sound surprised,' you answered stiffly, loading your gun without even glancing at him.

'To be honest, yeah. JJ and the rest all said you were out tonight. I figured you-'

'What? That I would ignore the call because I had something personal planned?' You finally looked up at him, and man did your cold stare pierce him like an arrow. 'This is my job, Spence. I knew, same as you and everyone else, that I would have to make some sacrifices to do it. So please, don't think so little of me just because I attempted to have a life outside of it.'

He grew more concerned at your choice of words. 'Attempted?' he asked, but then he looked closely at your smeared mascara, at the redness circling your eyes. Like you'd been crying-

'Don't worry about it,' you muttered, brushing past him to meet up with the team. 'You haven't for about four months now.'

Spencer tried to ignore the sting your words brought with them as he followed you to the rest of the team, forcing himself to put the case in front of you. But he'd done that for the past four months as you had so brightly pointed out, and look where it had landed him.

'Now remember,' Hotch started, bringing the team and some other officers in to brief, 'this unsub may use this place as his base to build his bombs, but don't discredit the idea that he wouldn't blow it up to save himself. Tread carefully but be vigilant, he is in the house somewhere. Now move.'

Spencer followed you into the house through the front door, gun and flashlight at the ready. All that could be heard were the soft but swift patter of footsteps as the FBI and local police ran in. The lights were on, but no unsub.

You were silently directed by Hotch to investigate the back end of the house, to which Spencer and Derek followed. You focussed on maintaining your breathing as you tried not to think about your date, Spencer, your heart thrashing in your ribcage. Only the unsub mattered.

The three of you broke into the last room of the house, the laundry. Upon entry, you spotted him, the unsub, running out the back door into the backyard.

'Hey!' you called out, immediately breaking into a sprint after him. You broke out of the laundry onto a cemented path towards a clothes line, chasing after him towards the fence line. But as you stepped off the path and onto the grass, something gave way beneath your feet, followed by a resounding click that had your freezing with fear.

'(L/n), keep going!' Derek shouted from somewhere behind you.

'Hold up!' you cried, throwing an arm back behind you. 'I think the yard is full of bombs.'

'Well, let's go around the front and get him in the back streets, come on!'

'I can't,' you replied back, slightly breathless from running, but also from the fear constricting now your airways.

'Why?' You didn't have to see him to know it was Spencer, concern dripping from just one word.

'Because I'm standing on one.'

Spencer knew it was physically impossible, but he was sure his stomach just dropped out of him and onto the bomb-littered grass around them. This was bad. Like very very bad.

'Shit,' Derek breathed out before bringing his wrist up to his mouth. 'Hotch, the unsub got away over the back fence, send some men to intercept him two blocks north from here.'

'Got it,' Hotch answered efficiently.

'And send the bomb squad out here. Yard is like a mine field and (L/n) is standing on one.'

After that, it didn't take long for the rest of the team to run outside, making extra careful to stand only on the pavements as they got as close to you as they could. Spencer stood the closest, standing directly in front of you as the bomb squad swept the yard for the rest of them.

'I've got some good news and some bad news,' one member of the bomb squad said as she came up to the team. 'Good news is it's the only bomb in the yard.'

'And I just managed to find it. Super,' you muttered, your tone shaky although the intention was to lighten the mood.

'Bad news is it's a pressure-triggered bomb, meaning that if you move even a fraction it'll go off. Also, by stepping on it, you've set of a timer until it explodes. The only way to disarm it seems to be a code of some kind.'

'How long do we have?' Spencer asked, not bothering to mask his desperation. This couldn't be happening. Of all the people, it had to be you.

'Six hours now,' she said grimly. 'My team and I will do everything we can to dismantle it and shut it off manually, but it's built quite strong so it'll be tough to crack open without setting it off. Your best bet will be to get an answer from your bomber.'

'Uniforms just called in,' Rossi said. 'They're bringing him in now.'

'Good,' Hotch said with a ferocity that would send most people running for the hills. 'He's gonna give us that code one way or another.' He turned to you, determination blazing in his eyes. 'Hang tight, (Y/n). We're gonna get you off that thing.'

'I'll hold you to that,' you joked, and you were grateful to receive a soft smile in return from Hotch and the rest of the team. Except for Spencer, he couldn't find it in himself to smile. He could barely think no thanks to your dangerous position.

'I'll stay with (Y/n),' Spencer said, his voice strained compared to his usual calmness.

'Reid,' Derek started, 'you're our best bet to crack open this guy. If we find something-'

'Then I'll have my phone ready to pick up. I'm not leaving her.'

It surprised you the strength you heard hidden underneath his fear. It was there in his eyes too, blazing like Hotch's, except with more warmth, more determination.

Derek looked to Hotch, and Hotch just nodded. 'Okay fine, but you better pick up on the first ring.'

'Promise.'

'I'll stay to help with the bomb squad,' Emily said while also looking at you.

'No,' you said as Hotch, Derek and JJ left. 'You all should go. In case he somehow remotely sets it off himself.'

'We're not leaving,' Reid said firmly, making eye contact with you. 'Not until you're off that bomb, you hear me?'

You wanted to argue, trying to be selfless and strong. But the truth was you were terrified, and to hear Spencer's strength where you lacked helped you push your pride aside and nod in agreement.

Time had flown by and it was now the last ten minutes. Spencer had received phone call after phone call but nothing had been helpful. They'd tried two potential codes already but they didn't work. The bomb squad quickly realised that they only had three chances to get the code right and so they were down to the last chance.

'You guys should really leave,' you said amidst your chattering teeth. It was now just after midnight and your thin button up and the bulletproof vest were not cutting it anymore. Spencer wished he could give you a blanket, a jacket, his own shirt for God's sake if it would keep you warm slightly.

'That's not going to happen,' he answered without hesitation.

You yawned, eyes threatening to droop close. Your legs had gone numb long ago. You were unsure how you were holding yourself up. It certainly wasn't by adrenaline. Perhaps you were frozen in place.

'I mean it, Spence,' you said, bracing yourself as another shiver threatened to spasm your entire body. 'It's the last ten minutes. You should be clear in case it goes off.'

'I'm not going to do that.'

'Damnit, Spencer. Of all the times to be stubborn, you choose now?'

'I'm not being stubborn,' Spencer argued. Were you purposefully trying to tick him off now? 'I'm trying to save your life!'

'You're right, you're not being stubborn. You're being plain stupid,' you retorted. You weren't sure why you were suddenly so angry, you just didn't like him playing the hero when he didn't have to.

'Yes! I am stupid, I admit that. I'll announce that to the entire neighbourhood right now if you want me to! Because if it weren't for me being an idiot, you wouldn't have had those dates, you wouldn't have had a date tonight, and maybe you wouldn't be stuck standing on a bomb right now!'

You stared incredulously at Spencer. He blamed himself for your situation? For Riley?

Despite the bustling of people around them, everything grew silent as youO stared at one another, Spencer's chest heaving as he sucked in air hard.

'Spence,' you said softly, your anger suddenly dissipating. 'I don't blame you for any of this. I would've ended up on this bomb one way or another. Or even worse, it could've been you standing on it. And as for Riley...' You thought the tears would come up again like before, but your eyes remained dry, and your heart didn't pull harshly.

Not for Riley, anyways.

'Did something happen between you two?' Spencer tentatively asked. His tone bordered on concerned and hopeful, demonstrating his torn mindset to whatever you were about to say.

You nodded. 'I told him I had to go to work, which wasn't unusual, but he just flipped. Said he was sick of me choosing you guys over him and that he was finished.'

He hated himself for feeling the slightest bit happy at the news, but his best friend instincts kicked in, and all he wanted to do was reach out and hold you. 'I'm sorry. You could've said no. We would've understood-'

'Spencer, I will always choose you guys over anyone,' you interjected, and the complete seriousness on your face reflected your sincerity brighter than the full moon above. 'I will always choose you, Spence.'

It was then Spencer saw it: the same feeling he'd had swirling in his stomach for months reflected in your eyes. It scared him, but what scared him more was that it would all be gone soon if he didn't do anything about it.

He would be too late, just like Derek said.

The bomb squad lady and Emily walked up to them both, and Spencer did not like the grim expressions on their faces.

'I'm sorry,' the bomb squad lady said. 'It's the last five minutes. There's nothing else we can do but clear out of the blast zone.'

'What about the code?' Spencer pressed, but Emily shook her head.

'Reid, they've gotten nothing out of him. We've got to go.'

'But we can't just leave her here-'

'Trust me, Spencer, I don't want to either!' Emily cried, tears pricking at her eyes at the thought of you dying. 'But we can't do anything for her here. I've got the remote to input the code if they get another one, but until then, we've got to clear from the blast zone.'

'No.' Spencer shook his head vigourously. He couldn't accept this. He wouldn't accept this.

'Spencer,' you tried gently. 'It's okay. I can do the rest alone. I want you to be safe.'

'Well, too bad, because I'm staying.'

You squeezed your eyes shut as tears rushed down your cheeks. 'Damnit, Spencer. Please, just go. Don't make this harder than it already is.'

Spencer took a daring step towards you, the tops of his shoes dangling just over the edge of the pavement. 'I won't abandon you. Not again.'

You were most likely a blubbering mess, your heart hurting so much at the thought that he would get caught up in your mess. 'God, why don't you just leave-'

'Because I love you, (Y/n)!'

The four of you stood dumbfounded as his proclamation echoed through the yard, the house, the street back out the front. Hell, Spencer hoped the whole world heard what he said, because he felt free for the first time in months, weightless, powerful.

And it was all because of you.

'I love you,' he repeated again, softer this time. As the reality of the situation came crashing down on him, tears of his own sprouted in his eyes and ran down his cheeks. He'd finally built up the courage to tell you, and you were minutes away from being blown up.

Through your tears, you find it in yourself to chuckle a little. It's watery and gross-sounding, but Spencer likes it none the less because it's yours, and you haven't lost complete hope. 'Talk about great timing, you big idiot.' And then there it is, that bright smile he saw day one in the office. You wore it with such pride, such strength it pulled at Spencer's heart strings painfully. 'You truly are a wonder, Spencer Reid.'

'One minute,' the bomb squad lady said, her tone frantic now. 'We've got to move! Now!'

'Reid, come on!' Emily cried, backing up with the bomb squad.

'I won't abandon her,' he replied, never taking his eyes off you.

'Reid please!'

Before he could reply, though, his phone buzzed, and he immediately answered the call. 'Please tell me you go it.'

'HOME! The code word is HOME!'

'Punch in HOME!' Reid called out to Emily, keeping Derek on the line as he stared at you. If you were to die, he was gonna make damn sure the last thing you saw wasn't an unfamiliar face.

'Are you sure?'

'We're out of time! Do it!'

'Spence...' you muttered. But you never finished your sentence, as your breath got caught while watching Emily punch in the code into the device. You closed your eyes. Soon you would be in eternal darkness. You would not fear it, but embrace it.

But when nothing happened, you dared to sneak a peek at what was going on. You saw Spencer first, who looked at Emily, who looked at the device in her hands. The deathly silence was finally broken at the sound of a green light on the device switching on. You then heard a hundred tiny clicks somewhere underfoot and felt yourself being pushed up back onto level ground.

Spencer finally looked back to you, eyes blown wide with hope he dared not realise. That same hope fuelled your frozen, tired legs, to take the tiniest of steps forward, and when nothing happened, you took your other foot off the bomb and collapsed forward into Spencer's arms.

His heart pounded faster than the jet that flew them all over the country every week as he cradled you simultaneously gently and tightly. You sobbed into his chest, your arms circling around his back and pulling him as tight as possible.

Oh, how he had missed your touch, your affection, your love, you.

'It's okay, you're okay,' he soothed, patting your hair down with one hand while he cradled you with the other. 'I'm here. We're all here.' He realised suddenly he'd dropped his phone, and so with one hand, he reached down and picked it up, bringing it to his ear. 'She's off.'

He barely heard the cheers of excitement and relief on Derek's end before he was hanging up and helping you to your feet. After that, it was a whirlwind of the bomb squad excavating the bomb, paramedics arriving, and CSU investigating the house.

After giving his statement of events to the local police and finishing speaking to other officials, he found you wrapped in a trauma blanket in the open back of an ambulance.

'How are you feeling?' he said as he approached you.

You broke free of your own world to look at Spencer, and a soft smile managed its way onto your lips. 'Well, I can feel my legs again so that's a start. And you?'

'All the better now that you're not standing on a bomb.'

You chuckled, though a red tinge dusted your cheeks out of embarrassment. 'I must admit, it's true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes the moment before you die.'

'Really? What did you see?' Spencer had read articles about this kind of stuff before, but had never spoken with a person who'd experience it themselves.

You didn't answer straight away, instead standing up to face him fully. Your legs felt like jelly a little but you stood strong. 'I saw you,' you replied easily, as if breathing air. 'Only you.'

Spencer couldn't hold it back, his fear, his relief. It all came bubbling out in an ugly sob as he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, pressing his face into your hair, using your scent to calm himself. He felt you sobbing too, how your body shook with your own anxieties.

'I missed you,' you said, your words muffled into his chest.

'I know, I'm sorry,' he murmured. 'I missed you, too.' He pulled you back slightly so that he could see your face. He wiped at your tears and forced his best smile just for you. 'But I'm back now. And I'm not going anywhere. That is... if you want me around.'

You heard his silent question, and it made you smile how confident and shy he could be simultaneously.

'Spencer Reid,' you murmured, like what you were about to say next was your biggest secret, 'of course I want you around. I love you.'

He chuckled with relief, tears still pricking at his eyes. But your words sealed your fate, as he used his small amount of confidence to grab the back of your neck gently and pull your lips to his.

You were the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted, and dare he compare you the most addictive drug he could ever hope to get high on. He couldn't get enough of you, and it was such a relief to finally let it out how much he needed you to breathe.

You were equally breathless, simultaneously feeling all consumed by Spencer's love without also having enough of it. Your fingers danced in the soft curls at the nape of his neck, threading yourself into him as much as possible. The truth was, the past four months were torturous.

'I'm not going anywhere.'

As you both finally broke apart, you pressed your foreheads together, nervous giggles of teenagers bubbling up in you both. This was fresh and new, but the love you had for one another had been there all along. No one was going anywhere.

'Finally!'

You and Spencer looked up to see the rest of the team watching from afar, with Emily and JJ smiling giddily, Derek and Rossi trying to suppress laughter, and Hotch having the simplest of grins on his lips.

'Oh, babygirl is going to have a field day when she hears about this,' Derek said, walking up to clap Spencer on the back and give him a hug. 'Well done, man.'

'It's about time,' Rossi said as the rest of the team joined you both. 'I thought I was going to have to take matters into my own hands.'

'Thank God you didn't,' Emily said, both her and JJ giving you a hug. 'As much as this has been traumatic for all of us, I'm so glad it brought you back together.'

'Say that to my poor legs,' you whined, but you hugged them just as tight. Truthfully, you felt the same. And as Reid held you in his arms that night, having refused to let you out of his sight after your brush with death, you couldn't be more grateful for it, too.

Your wedding was the next major point in his life that your words had impact.

The past five years leading up to your engagement had been some of the best and challenging in your life. There'd been many more close calls on both your lives since then - kidnappings, hostage situations, deadly viruses, the works. Even some romantic challenges that came in the form of other men and women.

But your bond ran deeper than superficial, petty spiffs. You always found your way back to one another, no matter how dark the road got. It was even on such a dark case that saw both you and Spencer on death row that he asked you. You'd both been captured and locked in a shipping container filled with no gaps for air and no way out. Before that, you'd copped a beating from your capture, forcing Spencer to watch all the while. Truthfully, it hadn't looked good, and that's why Spencer did it.

'What?' you asked deliriously, barely able to see straight no thanks to the lack of oxygen.

'I was planning on asking you... after this case,' Spencer admitted, his face mere centimetres from yours as he held you in a tight hug. He was breathless, running out of air and time it seemed. He had to do it now. 'Had it all planned out... We would go to that place on the hill we go to... a picnic all set out... and just as the sun would set, I'd ask you... and give you this.'

You would've gasped if you'd had enough air to do so, in utter shock to see Spencer pull out a simple gold band with a diamond embedded in it from in his pant pocket.

'I've had this for months... waiting for the... right time,' he managed to get out. 'It's my mothers. When I told her I wanted to marry you... she didn't even hesitate to give it to me.'

You were both weak, but he softly picked your left hand up and looked you dead in the eye. 'This might be it for us, but it also might not. Either way, I want to be yours for whatever time we have left. So, (Y/n) (L/n)... will you marry me?'

The tears that trekked down your face actually cleared your vision enough to see Spencer's smile clearly as you answered, 'Yes. I will marry you.'

Either some higher being was looking out for you that day, or your team was just really good at their job (Spencer never doubted them for a moment), but the team found you both in time, both unconscious and barely breathing, but hand in hand, with yours suddenly bejewelled.

Since then it had been a flurry of work and wedding arrangements and stress over the next seven months. Many speculated you were pregnant and that's why you and Spencer rushed the wedding. The truth was you just didn't want to wait any longer than you had to, not being in your line of work. Any day could be your last, so why waste it.

Spencer messed with the tie of his navy blue suit for the hundredth time as he stood waiting under the arch of flowers in the backyard of Rossi's mansion for you. He wasn't nervous, just... ansty, like he had ants in his pants and wanted to get out of them as soon as possible. But he couldn't deny he was just as excited for this day as you were. All of your friends and family dressed up, no case, no killer, nothing but what dessert they were going to have at the reception to worry about.

'Hey pretty boy,' Derek said, coming up behind him and clapping a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. 'Stop messing with it. You look fine.'

'I know, I just...' Spencer couldn't put into words what he was feeling, not as he stared at his good friend - his best man. Even though Derek had left the BAU, Spencer and him still spoke regularly, and he was more than happy to be there for his best bud at arguably the most important day of his life.

Derek smiled knowingly, straightening Spencer's tie because that's what the best man did for the groom. 'She loves you, Spencer. You've got nothing to worry about.'

'I'm not worried. I just...' He felt the tears already coming on and he hadn't even seen you yet. You were probably even more gorgeous than you already were. God he couldn't wait to marry you.

'I get it, man,' Derek said, and then the piano started playing a soft, whimsical tune that was so you and he stepped back into place. 'Show time, pretty boy.'

Spencer straightened himself up, told himself to hold the tears back. This was not a sad day, but a joyous one. But his breath was stolen the moment the doors of Rossi's mansion opened, after Emily, JJ and Penelope walked through, and you walked out into the backyard on your father's arm.

Your gown was simple, accentuating your body like the goddess you were. Your (h/c) locks were styled to perfection, hidden barely by the thin veil that fell like morning mist over your face. You held your favourite flowers in your hands, the glint of your engagement ring shining as bright as the sun that shone upon the whole ceremony.

By the time you reached him, Spencer was about ready to rip your veil off, kiss the living daylights out of you and runaway. But he resisted, instead waiting patiently for your dad to flip your veil up, and for you to hand over your bouquet to JJ, your maid of honour. When you finally turned to face him, he could've cried. You were so beautiful. And we was marrying you today.

You reached out to him, and he was more than glad to clasp your hands at last.

'Hi,' you whispered, a nervous but excited smile twitching your lips.

'Hi,' he whispered back, the threat of tears burning the back of his eyes again. 'You are gorgeous.'

'Thanks. You look handsome.'

'It's a wonder what a whole eight hours sleep and showering more than once a week can do.'

He was so glad to hear your laugh. It calmed his nerves, and apparently yours calmed too, as your hands no longer shook in his.

'All right, everyone,' Rossi started, stepping up to minister the ceremony. 'Let's get this started.'

The boring, ceremonious stuff went by quickly and soon you were reciting your vows. You'd both wanted to write your own vows for each other - agreeing that the usual script was not enough to express your love for one another, and what you would do to protect that love.

Reid went first.

'(Y/n),' he began, staring you straight in your eyes. He'd written his speech over and over again, but once he found the right words, it only took him a matter of seconds to memorise them. Forever. 'I've always been told I was different. Gifted, special. Being different helped me get this job, this family-' he turned to his friends, who watched them with bright smiles and teary eyes. 'But it also got me in trouble, held me back from experiencing... normal things like friendship, even love. So much so, that I started to believe... I was unworthy of love.'

You squeezed his hands, hearing the stutter in his words, the built up emotion that threatened to consume him. He gratefully squeezed back, grateful to know he was not alone, that he would never be alone from this day forth.

'But from the day I met you, you've shown me that I can be myself and be worthy of love. Theoretically, we shouldn't work. Despite popular opinion, studies have shown that people from different backgrounds, with different interests and completely different personality traits are less likely to feel attracted to one another than people with similar backgrounds, interests and personalities.'

'Come on, Reid. You really want people to sleep through your wedding?' Derek asked, prompting you and the rest of the guests to burst into laughter.

'I have a point,' he countered, and waited for the laughter to die down before resuming his vows. 'And while I usually rely on statistics and facts to make informed decisions about my life, from the day that I met you, you turned my entire world upside, inside out... and I didn't care. Because despite knowing almost everything there is to know about, well, everything, you are the one thing that has and always will make sense to me.'

He saw you trying to hold back tears, so he let go of one of your hands to caress your cheek where some tears rolled down. He swiped them away gently with his thumb without ruining your makeup, the most handsome, beautiful smile you'd ever seen on his lips.

'I love you, (Y/n) (L/n). I have loved you since we first met, at every case, at every movie night, every time you made me coffee. I love how you find the light amidst the darkness, how you give yourself completely to everyone you meet. I love the crinkle in your forehead every time you get mad at me. I love all of you, and I don't have to promise you that I will stay by your side through it all for the rest of our lives. You have had me since day one, and that will never change, even in death. But before that final day comes, I look forward to making the most of what time we have left loving you.'

The guests clapped so loudly that he almost didn't hear your soft sobs. But he did, and he pulled you into a quick hug before you pulled yourself away.

'Oh my goodness, I just want to kiss you,' you admitted quietly to him, bringing laughter out of him. But you quickly pulled your self away, using your free hand to grab an A4-sized piece of paper from JJ and return to face Spencer.

'Unfortunately, I don't have an eidetic memory so I will be using some assistance for this next bit,' you joked, stopping your flow of tears briefly as everyone chuckled, appreciative for the break in overwhelming emotions. Spencer breathed in deeply, steadying his heartbeat as much as possible. His part was done, but he knew this next part would be the hardest to retain composure.

'Spencer,' you began, one hand shakily holding your vows, while the other gripped onto Spencer like your life depended on it. In a sense, after today, it would. 'From the moment I first met you, I knew you were special. That you would leave a mark on my life in one form or another. Some sad part of me sometimes thought it would be when you inevitably shot yourself because you couldn't pass your marksman test after three goes-' Cue Spencer looking to Hotch apologetically while the rest of the guests laughed. '-or because, in our line of work, any day could be our last, and I wouldn't rule out any psychopaths intervening with that. However, despite it all, you're still here, and I couldn't be more thankful that you are. You amaze me everyday, Spencer - with your knowledge of the world, your intellectual insight, how you are almost incapable of growing any substantial amount of facial hair.'

You were glad people were laughing now, because what you were about to say next was going to take all your composure not to fall apart.

'But it is your heart and your ability to connect with people that has captured me completely. Our story has been... unconventional, to put it plainly. We were colleagues first, then friends, then you became my best friend, and I thought I couldn't be happier than that. But maybe it has something to do with some chemicals in the brain that are stimulated when you hang around someone you admire and adore long enough - you know, science stuff - or fate. I don't necessarily believe in either, but I do believe in us, Spencer. I believe that we are two souls choosing to become one for the rest of our lives; I believe you are my person, and the one I choose to face each and everyday with; I believe we haven't overcome all that we have for nothing; and I am not the least bit surprised it took nearly getting blown up to admit how I truly feel about you.'

Spencer couldn't care that what you said about brain chemicals was technically incorrect, it was so you, and there was not a dry eye in the backyard as you looked up at him finally, sheet long forgotten, and (e/c) eyes shining bright with tears and love.

'I love you, Spencer Reid,' you said breathlessly, but loud enough for everyone to hear. 'You have experienced the worst of humanity over and over again, and yet here you stand with me, smiling, happy, choosing to believe in happy endings. You are a wonder - my wonder - and I can't wait to spend everyday from now loving you, and being wowed by you. From now... until I cannot breathe, and even then beyond.'

You gave the paper back to JJ, then returned your full attention to Spencer. It was like it was only you two, the clapping from your guests dulled as well as Rossi's final words. But Spencer didn't miss a beat when he heard him say, 'By the power vested in me and my online-approved minister credentials, I pronounce you husband and wife. Go on kids, you've earned it.'

Spencer swooped you into the sweetest, loving kiss he could muster, gently cradling your neck and cheeks as your lips met in a soft collision. It wasn't lustful (that would certainly come later), but it was consuming, like two forces being pulled together by a magnet. You were separate entities choosing to become one, and it made you smile through your kiss and for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening.

You both partied with your family and friends, but you always managed to find your way back to one another despite the chaos. He now cradled you gently as you swayed together on the dance floor, fatigue settling in. You held each other up as you did, content to just be with each other in the final moments of your special day. Emily, your new section chief, had ordered you both take two weeks off to celebrate your honey moon. Because God knew when the next time you'd be able to relax would be when you both came back to work.

You shifted in his arms, manoeuvring yourself to look up at him, a delirious, tired and happy smile adorning your pretty lips. 'I love you, Spencer Reid.'

He leaned in for a brief but loving kiss before saying, 'I love you, (Y/n) Reid.'

Something about how his last named paired with your first name sounded that warmed him inside. The same feeling lit up in your eyes, but maybe that was just the happy tears that formed there, too.

'We're the Reids now,' you whispered in disbelief, probably due to the amount of alcohol you had consumed throughout the day. 'You're my husband!'

'Yes I am,' he murmured, pulling you back to his chest to lay your head. 'Forever and always.'

The last time he heard you say those special words was the day you said goodbye.

It wasn't until you fell pregnant with your first child that you found a proper house to live in. You'd been content with the studio apartment you'd found and moved into one year into your relationship, but when you fell pregnant, Spencer knew you would need a bigger space. One that you could call your own and make a home out of.

Your forever home.

Surprisingly, it hadn't taken long to find something: a nice rustic, two-storey house on the outskirts of DC. It was in a nice neighbourhood , far enough out of the city to be quiet, but close enough you could both get to work quick enough in case of an emergency. The moment you'd laid eyes on it, you fell in love with it, and Spencer knew without question this would be where you brought your family up.

He traipsed through the house with two cups of tea. Coffee had started to disagree with him after he quit the BAU, as if that were the only place he needed it. Teaching and guest lecturing at all the local universities was nowhere near the stress level of the BAU, and so he'd switched to tea. Somehow, in his (as he called it) pre-retirement, it tasted sweeter.

You had stepped down from being a profiler at the BAU after your third child was born, realising that with a four and two year old waiting outside the birth suite to meet their baby brother, you couldn't risk leaving your three babies without a mother. And while leaving the BAU, your home of close to twenty years, wrought a grief out of you that was close to unbearable, you knew it was the right decision and right time.

And you soon found a love for writing - fiction, non-fiction, poetry, it didn't matter. What you'd experienced in your career as a profiler had changed you, and sometimes writing it out made it less haunting, it gave you closure. You went on book tours, consulted on scholarly and literary journals, you even were brought into Spencer's classrooms to guest lecture from time to time.

All the while building and loving the family both of you had always dreamed of.

Spencer smiled at the dusty pictures that lined the walls, of the faces of his children and grandchildren smiling back him. Of the faces of friends old and new, of ghosts he used to know from a time long gone. Sometimes he hardly recognised himself in those pictures. He wasn't the vain type, but when he looked at himself in his 20's and 30's, he couldn't help the yearning that pulled at his heart when he did.

He compared those youthful pictures against his present day, laughing at the barely existent grey stubble he now sported, of the white hair that curled and stood up in any and all directions, of the glasses he now permanently had to wear. You always said he looked sexier with glasses, anyways, so he didn't mind.

Those pictures were his memory, his legacy, his life. When he felt his brain burning, when his memory became a bit too fuzzy, he could always look at the pictures and find solace in how those moments would live on in the people he loved.

'Spence?'

Your voice prompted him to keep moving, to let go of the past and remain in the present. He wandered through the rest of the house to the backyard, where two garden chairs sat either side of a coffee table, looking over the yard. The gardens were filled with flowers of all shapes and colours. He wasn't a nature guy by any means, but Spencer wanted you to have something to look after other than him or the children, something you could be proud of when you were much older. So he'd planted it himself (okay, he needed help from Derek), filling it with flowers that expressed all the wonderful qualities he loved about you.

There was a small gardening shed in the back, a quaint barbecue/entertainment area to one side, and a build-your-own playground just sitting on the lawn. He found you sitting comfortably in one of the chairs, staring out at the yard contently. He placed both cups of tea on the table before taking his own seat in the other chair.

'Do you remember how Jason used to carry Diana on his back up the slide?' you asked gently, a fond smile cracking your dry lips at the memory of your children playing on the very same playground their children now played on when they visited. 'You always got so scared they would fall and hurt themselves.'

'Isn't that our job?' he asked, taking a sip of his tea. 'To worry for our children?'

'You didn't have to be a helicopter parent, though,' you jibed playfully. 'You got better when Aaron was old enough to climb himself, so I can't berate you for that.'

'Speaking of which, Aaron just called, said him, Rachel and the kids want to invites us to dinner on Friday.'

You turned and smiled at him, but he saw how tired you were. It was in the slight droop in your lips when you smiled, it was in the slouch of your shoulders, it was the way you held out your hand for him to grasp and you could barely squeeze him back. You'd been like this for days, and it broke Spencer's heart to see the love of his life slowly fade away right beside him. He knew it was a natural way of life - considering their previous occupations, he was grateful to be even given the chance to grow old with you.

But despite natural law and despite his many blessings, it didn't dull the ache that grew more painful everyday.

'You don't have to be here, Spence,' you said, voice barely above a whisper, like it was just a secret only you two shared. 'You've seen enough death already.'

Spencer placed his cup on the table before getting out of his chair (a feat he struggled withe everyday now, his BAU days finally catching up to him) and walking around to your side, bringing both his hands to clasp yours as he knelt beside you.

'I'm not going anywhere,' he said, willing every ounce of sincerity and love into his words, into his hands as he held your frail ones. 'Forever and always, remember?'

Spencer almost broke down when your eyes locked with his, those shining (e/c) orbs sparkling with life and mischief and wonder. Despite what time had done to you, you were still his (Y/n), his best friend, his partner, his lover and saviour.

You nodded as if to say yes, I do remember. I always will. You pull one hand free of his grip, and use it to cradle his wrinkled cheeks. 'We've lived a good life, haven't we, Spence?'

He pulled one hand away to caress your hand on his cheek, holding it there for as long as he could. 'Yes. Yes we have.'

Your eyes scanned over him, suddenly seeing your life in rewind.

You saw him as he was now, white, Einstein hair, wrinkled skin and glasses. Then with only little streaks of white in his hair, more sleek. That's how he was with the kids. You kept going back, to your wedding, to your engagement, to the first time you kissed. Every movie night, every case, every late night in the office. Until you were seeing him as if for the first time. Kind of dorky, kind of sweet, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed to explain to you how his "physics magic" worked that very first day in the office.

It was like he was seeing you for the first time as well, as you smiled your bright smile like you did on that first day. The smile you had smiled for him every day since. The smile he saw in your children, and then your grandchildren.

'You are a true wonder, Spence,' you whispered softly, using what little strength you had left to squeeze the hand that still clasped yours as if to say thank you. 'My wonder.'

He waited for the lump in his throat to form, for the words to get stuck in his throat like they always did before. But the lump never formed, and so the words flowed like water out of him, finally feeling right.

'And you are mine,' he whispered back, smiling as bright as he could for you as he held you. 'You always have been my wonder.'

You bring his lips to yours one last time before dropping your hand from his face and sitting back in your seat, looking more tired than you'd ever been. But your other hand still held his, and he certainly wasn't going to let you go. Not yet.

'Spence,' you wheezed, eyes struggling to stay open on him.

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, using his now free hand to stroke your grey hair in soothing motions. 'It's okay. You can rest now. I'll join you soon enough.'

The slight dip of your chin let him know you understood, and soon after you closed your eyes, your hand grew slack in his hold and your chest ceased rising.

You were gone.

And he was still here.

It was only then did Spencer allow the tears to fall, to acknowledge that despite both of your acceptances, he was sad. You'd lived good, long lives, and even then Spencer believed it was not enough time to love all of you. He knew it was selfish, but he figured after all he'd been through he would be allowed this one wish.

He held you for another hour before he called your children to notify them of your passing.

He held on for another year before he joined you. Cause of death: a broken heart.

He was buried beside you in the family lot, and on your joint headstone, it wrote:

Here lies Dr. Spencer Reid and Mrs. (Y/n) Reid. Loving Husband and Wife and Parents. "You truly are a wonder."

622 notes · View notes

writeplace-wrongtime · 8 months

Text

The Bet

*cracks knuckles* fine, I'll do it myself.

Okay but seriously, I've only binge watched the first 6 seasons of criminal minds, so I'm probably a bit off with character personalities.

This turned into mostly the team finding out, so if anyone wants a part 2 with more scenes pre-reveal I'd love to write it!

masterlist coming soon

Word Count: 3k

CW// brief mention of kidnapping case, use of y/n (i'm sorry), not beta'd

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘When was the last time you saw Hotch leave before the rest of us?’

The most recent case had been a relatively short one, allowing the team to get back to Quantico reasonably early. A young man caught kidnapping local women, caught easily when he appeared on CCTV taking his latest victim. Three women, three days. All had minor injuries, but all were alive. It had been the ideal end to the case and no loss of life meant the paperwork was minimal.

Emily’s voice caught the attention of Derek, who followed her gaze to the elevator, where the Unit Chief stood waiting. He raised his eyebrows, trying to think back on the last few months of late nights, week-long cases and multiple middle of the night calls.

‘Not since before his divorce,’ Spencer piped up helpfully from behind his desk, packing away the days half-finished reports and case notes before he too looked up. ‘Hey, has anyone seen y/l/n? They mentioned going for food on the jet, and I know this really nice Indian restaurant not far from here, I was going to suggest we all go.’

Now that Emily thought about it, she hadn’t seen you after you’d gone to Hotch’s office to drop off your report. Barely five minutes later, Hotch had made a beeline for the elevator, leaving unusually early compared to normal, and then you too had disappeared.

‘Holy shit.’ The dots were connecting in her head. ‘They’re totally hooking up!’

This gathered the full attention of everyone in the room.

‘Who’s hooking up?’ Penelope had her bag in hand as she peeked in the door, drawn to the gossip like a moth to a flame.

‘Y/l/n and Hotch!’

‘Oh my god!’ Penelope was quick to rush over to the group now huddled around Emily’s desk.

‘No way,’ Derek was shaking his head, arms crossed over his chest. They’d been working as a team for years, there’s no way you and Hotch were in a secret relationship, and no one had noticed. ‘Come on, you really think they could have hidden something like that from us?’

Spencer shrugged, joining the conversation fully. ‘Hotch hid the fact that Emily was alive from all of us for months, so a secret relationship wouldn’t be that hard for him.’ Emily grimaced at the comparison, searching for any hint of bitterness in his tone, though found none. He had been hurt that they hadn’t trusted him to know the secret, but that hurt had faded over the couple years since Emily had returned. He offered her an apologetic smile, as if only realising what he’d said.

‘Want to make this more interesting?’ Quick to bring the conversation back to inane office gossip, Emily reached into her bag to pull out her purse. ‘100 dollars they’re doing it.’

‘Oh, you’re on. 100 they’re not.’ Derek placed two fifties on top of Emily’s two. Another two went down, and they both looked up to see Spencer sheepishly tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

‘I think they’ve been dating for a couple weeks now, I assumed everyone else had noticed.’

Quickly, Penelope had joined, and much to everyone’s surprise, so did Rossi. Penelope thought they’d just started dating, and Rossi thought it had been at least six months. JJ scooped up the cash, promising to be a neutral party to assure the winner got the whole lot. Plus, when this inevitably went wrong, she did not want to be involved in the fallout.

‘Okay, but how do we get them to admit-‘

‘Or not admit,’ Derek cut in.

‘Or not admit, what’s going on?’ Emily mused. Everyone’s eyes instantly went to Penelope.

‘Oh no, no, no-‘

Penelope’s office felt quite cramped with some many people in it, the space only meant to house one technical analyst, not one technical analyst and five nosey special agents. Five nosey agents who were all huddled around Penelope to peer at the screen over her shoulders.

‘Oh it does not feel right tracking their phones like this,’ Penelope’s fingers danced across the keys as she brought up both locations, ‘My powers should only be used for good, not- not snooping on our friends personal lives!’ Still, she let the trace run its course, displaying the address for the others to see.

‘That’s Hotch’s apartment.’ Spencer recognised the address immediately. Two little dots blinked on the screen, Hotch’s address hovering above them.

‘So they’re together, that doesn’t mean they’re hooking up.’ Derek knew his argument was weak, but hell he had 100 dollars riding on it.

‘Oh come on, they sneak out and go to Hotch’s apartment and you think they’re what, making cookies?’

‘Kids, stop fighting,’ Dave put a hand on both Derek and Emily’s shoulders. ‘Why don’t you just phone y/l/n, invite them for food, see what happens.’

‘You think they’d lie to us?’ Spencer asked, as Penelope pulled out her phone and dialled your number.

‘They’ve been lying to us about this for weeks, if you’re bet is right anyway,’ Emily nudged him with her elbow. He nudged her back.

‘Technically it’s an omission not a lie, since none of us directly asked if they’re-‘

‘Shhh its ringing!’ The room fell to silence as Penelope put her phone to her ear.

Even though it had been a short case, you had been looking forward to getting back. And by how quickly Aaron had offered up his apartment for a movie night, he had been too. It was important to keep a clear line between boss and boyfriend while in the field, and it was only professional to stay in separate rooms during cases, so it felt good to have Aaron back in boyfriend mode, with comforting touches and quality time away from the office, away from the titles and roles that accompanied your positions at the BAU.

You had finished your report in record time. It was pure luck that everyone was too caught up in their own work to notice you slipping away. After dropping your report on Aaron’s desk, you had made a quick exit, waiting by Aaron’s car until he joined you in the car park. It had become routine to leave short gaps between your arrivals and exits, allowing the illusion that you had travelled separately, from different apartments, in different cars. It was a short ride back to his apartment.

You had only just settled back against Aaron’s side, a bowl of popcorn perched between your thighs when your phone buzzed.

‘Hey beautiful, where’d you run off to?’ Penelope’s sweet voice rang out from the other end of the line, ‘We’re going for food, you coming with?’

You glanced sideways at Aaron, who kept his eyes on the TV, though you knew he was listening in by the way his arm tensed around you. You gently squeezed the arm closest to you, relaxing further into his hold so he knew you weren’t planning on leaving.

‘Sorry Pen, not tonight, I’m, uh, not feeling great after today’s case…’ You trailed off, hoping she’d accept the excuse and you’d be home free. You should’ve known it wouldn’t be as simple as that. There was pause, and you could’ve sworn you could hear hushed conversation. Must’ve been the rest of the team packing up to leave. You felt almost guilty that they were still at the office, when you’d left as soon as your own report was done.

‘Oh honey!’ Her voice was laced with sympathy, ‘That’s it, we’ll bring the food to you! Nothing like good food and company to cheer up the soul!’ Your head fell back against Aaron’s chest with more force than necessary. Curse her and her kindness.

‘No, no it’s okay, really-‘ You tried to prevent your voice from giving away your panic, ‘No need to go out of your way! Tell the guys I said enjoy!’

‘Its not out of our way at all! See you in twenty, gorgeous.’ The line went dead before you had a chance to respond. You could feel the vibrations of Aaron’s quiet laugh behind you, tilting your head back to look up at him.

‘You think this funny?’ Your words were pointed, but the smile on your lips gave away your hidden amusement. In lieu of an answer, he leaned down to pepper kisses along your shoulder, the side of your neck, anywhere he could reach. You savoured the warmth of his lips against your skin, a soft moan escaping your parted lips as the kisses became more heated. Tilting your head back to give him easier access, you let out a disappointed whine when he instead detached from you, gently pushing you up until you were sitting straight.

‘They’re going to be at your apartment soon,’ He reminded you, giving your arm a squeeze before moving to stand. Your cheeks were flushed red, taking a few steadying breaths as he took the popcorn from your lap, placing it on the coffee table, before holding his hands out to you. Shooting him a mock glare, you resigned yourself to getting off the comfortable couch and getting your shoes on. As much as you loved your co-workers, so much that they were practically family, you really did not want to spend the evening with them, not when you could be curled up on the couch with Aaron, pretending the outside world didn’t exist.

‘Shit,’ You nearly tripped over your untied laces in your hurry to turn, ‘My car’s still at the office, Aaron I don’t have time to get back there, get my car AND-‘ Your words were halted by the soft press of his lips on yours. Clearly, you weren’t the only one wishing you could stay. Melting against him, your hands found purchase on the solid expanse of his shoulders, fingers digging into the soft material of his t-shirt. He pulled back, just far enough so he could press his forehead against yours.

‘I’ll drive,’ His voice was quiet in the minimal space between you, ‘Tell them your car broke down and I offered you a lift home.’ You just hummed your agreement, too caught up in his closeness to really be paying full attention. Overwhelming warmth encompassed you as you breathed in the faint smell of his cologne, trying to catalogue the feeling in your mind as your panic disappeared with the gentlest of touches.

‘Or,’ You offered mildly, blinking up at him through your lashes, ‘We could just turn our phones off, lock the door, and deal with all of this tomorrow?’ Soft open-mouthed kisses were pressed to the column of his throat in between your words, hands climbing to wrap around the back of his neck. Your fingertips teased the baby hairs at the base of his skull. You knew he wouldn’t take you up on the offer, even when his hands gripped at your waist, pulling you flush against him as he once again claimed your lips with his.

It had been a tough decision, keeping the relationship from your team, but you had both ultimately decided that it was for the best, at least while things were still new. Then, six weeks had turned into six months, and six months into nearly a year. It was becoming harder and harder to keep a secret, and you nearly wanted the team to catch on. You’d met Jessica, and had a proper introduction to Jack, even going so far as to have gone to a few of his soccer practices at Jack’s insistence. You had been slowly moving your stuff into his room, small things like toiletries, pyjamas and a few spare work outfits. You spent more time at Aaron’s apartment than your own. You loved it. What you didn’t love, was having to hide it all from your friends.

‘We really should go,’ Aaron murmured against your lips, ‘At least you’ll get free food out of this.’

You laughed softly at that, pressing one last kiss to his lips before pulling back, cheeks dusted pink. ‘I’d rather have you.’ A rare boyish grin was your only response, before he turned to grab his keys and you quickly tied your laces. You were soon on the familiar road home.

They didn’t wait around to see if you were rushing from Hotch’s apartment, instead piling into the back of Derek’s car haphazardly. All but JJ, who had familial responsibilities, and Rossi who just wanted to go home, managed to fit into one SUV. If Rossi had been with them to take some of the blame, Derek might’ve even thrown on the sirens and lights. Instead, he skipped through a few orange lights, and just barely stuck to the speed limits. When they arrived at the Indian restaurant, Spencer was sent to pick up the order, being deemed least likely to do something stupid like flash his badge for quicker service. Emily followed him inside to help carry it all back to the car. Even without the badge, they managed to make it in and out in under ten minutes. Luck was on their side, getting them to your apartment just 25 minutes after Penelope had hung up on you.

When they came to a stop outside your apartment complex, your car wasn’t parked in its normal spot, and they had a moment of celebration before Spencer realised the light was on inside. A light that meant you had beat them.

They all had to hide their disappointment when you greeted them at the door, not showing any sign of having rushed from one apartment to the other. Being one of the closer apartments to the office, yours was often used as a base for nights out, girl’s nights, and team movie-nights. It was the team’s apartment more than it had ever been just yours. Moving seamlessly through your kitchen grabbing plates, cutlery and glasses, Emily and Penelope set to organising the food, while Spencer and Derek moved your coffee table to the centre of the room so everyone could sit around it. It warmed you to know they felt at home here.

‘I’ll have to get someone to look at it tomorrow,’ You sounded morose enough that Emily almost believed your “car trouble” story. She just hummed her commiserations before stealing some chicken from your Jalfrezi. As much as she’d hoped to catch you and Hotch in your lie – or omission as Spencer would remind her – she enjoyed spending time with you, and this had been the perfect excuse for a team night.

‘Hotch didn’t stick around after dropping you off?’ Emily asked casually, scooping up a mouthful of curry with the edge of a poppadom. If you noticed the groups sudden interest in your conversation you didn’t show it. You shook your head, pushing the thought of his hands on your waist and his lips on your skin, out of your mind.

‘He was just being nice, he probably has better things to be doing after a case than hanging out here.’

Derek had to hide his laugh with a cough. You frowned at him, but before you could question it, Emily dragged you back into a conversation about Sergio and how he stole her bagel the other day. She glared at Derek when you weren’t looking. Conversation flowed easily after that, and it wasn’t long before everyone was on their second helping of food and the booze cupboard had been ransacked.

‘Hey babygirl, you seeing what I’m seeing?’ Derek had just sat back down with his second full plate when he spotted it; the start of your downfall. He nudged Penelope, nodding his head toward you. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before rising nearly to her hairline. A sharp “oh my god” left her lips, before she covered her mouth. Just beneath the edge of your oversized t-shirt, a small red mark was blooming on your skin. It looked suspiciously like a hickey. A very, very new one at that. Penelope’s little outburst was quickly noted by Emily, who paused mid-conversation to notice what they had. Her shit-eating grin matched Derek’s perfectly.

‘What?’ You frowned at her, quickly glancing at Spencer opposite you. He shrugged, offering no help.

‘Maybe Hotch stuck around for a little while after all?’ There was a teasing lilt to her tone as she reached out to tug your collar a little lower. You could feel heat rising up your neck into your cheeks, a beautiful shade of crimson. Covering the offending mark with your hand, you tried to come up with an excuse. Nothing came. Opening your mouth and then closing it a few times, you tried to look anywhere but at your friends. You were caught and you knew it. They knew it too.

‘Is there any point in me saying I burnt myself?’ You tried for a smile, but it turned out more like a grimace.

‘Nope.’ Emily said, popping the “p”.

‘Aaron and I, we, uh…’ You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, your blush darkening, as Penelope mouthed “Aaron!” at Emily, who practically giggled. You were going to have to restock your alcohol cupboard before they came round again. You took a breath, glancing around the room. All eyes were on you.

‘We’re dating.’

There was an immediate outburst of “oh my god!”s and “I knew it!”s. You had expected to feel awful when your secret was finally out in the open, but all you could feel was relief. Well, and a tinge of embarrassment. Warmth bubbled in your chest, looking around the room at your team, your family, knowing you didn’t have to hide it from them anymore.

‘What ya thinking about over there?’ Emily nudged your arm, a small tendril of guilt creeping through her. You’d obviously wanted to spend your evening with Hotch, and instead they’d dragged you away in a hurry, all just to invade your privacy. A small grin broke through your façade.

‘I’m thinking, seeing as it’s not a secret anymore, I can leave you losers and go back to spending the night with my boyfriend.’ A chorus of cheers followed your words, and someone (you suspected Emily) shouted “Go get some, girl!”.

Spencer wrinkled his nose at that. ‘Gross, remember that’s Hotch we’re taking about, he’s pretty much our work dad.’ His words caused a laugh to bubble in your chest, and you leaned over Emily to plant a big kiss on his cheek.

‘Guess that makes me your new work-mom!’ He made a big show of wiping your kiss from his cheek, but the small smile that followed gave away his charade.

‘What are you waiting for beautiful? Your man is waiting for you!’ Your wide grin echoed Penelope��s as she ushered you up and out of the living room. Your overnight gear was already at Aaron’s, so all you needed was your shoes and phone. You felt almost giddy as you threw the spare key to Spencer.

‘Don’t stay up too late kiddos!’

‘Hey, hold on a second,’ You glanced at Derek, who had started stacking plates to take to the kitchen, ‘How long has this been going on?’

‘Oh… Y’know, only about 11… months.’ You shot them an abashed smile, before darting for the door as all hell broke loose.

‘You didn’t win the bet either!’ Emily and Derek’s argument floated out the door with you, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Of course they had bet on it. You didn’t have it in you to care, instead shutting the door with a sound click. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you dialled Aaron’s number.

‘Hey handsome,’ You couldn’t help the smile that carried through in your words, ‘You want to finish that movie?’

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