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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

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I'll (Never) Know What It's Like Not to Love You

Summary: Spencer finds his old journals in the attic, and he and Derek reminisce on the days they used to pine for one another. Luckily, those days are over, and they have forever ahead of them.

Tags: tooth-rotting domestic fluff, past mutual pining, past hurt!spencer, cuddling & snuggling, late canon

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Happy Bonus Fic Thursday!!! This was written on a whim after listening to "When I'm Older" by Ashe on repeat one morning. I think it's cute though and I do love to give these two a happy ending <3

Spencer has just turned thirty-nine when he finds the journal. It’s only November, but he’d ventured into the attic to dig out the Christmas decorations while Derek was out running errands — he can’t complain about it if he’s not here — and he’d stumbled across boxes full of stuff from Spencer’s old apartment that he took with him when he moved into the house Derek renovated for them.

He finds trinkets and books he’d almost forgotten about, old letters that he never sent, the small remnants he has left of his childhood, and he spends almost an hour sifting through the boxes as he sits on the floor of the loft, barely registering the frigid air around him.

Eventually, he stumbles on the box full of his old journals, and his heart stops at the sight of them. They’re a random assortment of hardback and paperback, colourful and plain, too many different fabrics to count, and they document every day of his life from his first day at university up until around 2009. After he got together with Derek, his life had grown too full and busy to chronicle each and every day, and he switched to only journaling through the really significant moments of his life.

He lifts them out of the box, fingering the spines tenderly as he holds them with the reverence he feels they deserve, until he comes across a fat, purple, leather journal. Jan-June 2004, it says on the spine in Spencer’s neatest print. His stomach tumbles as he remembers what’s written on these pages, and — his world suddenly zeroing into the book in his hands — he opens it.

23rd April 2004

We didn’t have a case today. Derek brought me coffee and ate breakfast with me in the break room and, even though I was smiling the whole time, it hurt so badly. I don’t think I’ll ever not be in love with him. Certainly not when he’s this close to me; not when he looks at me like he did when I knocked the stapler off the desk today; not when he places his hand on my hip and calls me ‘pretty boy’.

I don’t know what the future holds, but I think that the most I can hope for is that in thirty years I don’t still feel like this. Maybe when I’m older, I’ll finally know what it’s like not to love him.

Spencer’s heart clenches as all the emotions he’d felt when writing that entry rush back. Almost all the pages from 2003-2006 are filled with his lamentations about his feelings for Derek. He’d documented other things too at times, if a case was particularly interesting he’d write down his thoughts and observations, and he’d written about the trip he’d taken in 2005 to go and see Diana after the Fisher King case.

Largely, though, he wrote about the way Derek’s eyes looked in the sunshine, the difference in his first and last smile of the day, the gentleness in every strong and powerful muscle of his body. He wrote about the way his heart broke each day at the sight of him, how he would cry at night when the knowledge he’d never know how it felt to be wrapped up in his arms hurt too badly. He wrote about the men he slept with in a vain attempt to forget him.

As soon as the rush of emotions subsides a little, a smile crosses his lips. Tears shine in his eyes as he thinks about how wrong this Spencer was.

He is older now. He wrote these journal entries in his twenties, and now he’s fast approaching being double the age he was then, and still, he has no idea what it’s like not to love Derek Morgan. The only difference is that the hurt it used to bring has been replaced with a kind of joy Spencer never could have expected he would experience.

It’s not something painful he wishes he could forget anymore; it’s the very root of everything so wonderful about his life, and where 2004 Spencer Reid wished he could cut himself open and gut out all the love he held for Derek Morgan, modern day Spencer Reid only wants it to replicate, duplicate, overtake his body until it’s more himself than he could ever be.

⭐️

“I found something interesting earlier,” he tells Derek later.

Their empty pasta bowls are discarded on the coffee table as they sit cuddled up on the sofa and the TV is muted, playing Spencer’s favourite sitcoms across the screen, the sound of the November rain coming down outside filling the room. The Christmas decorations are still in the attic, but the journals are tucked under their bed upstairs.

“What’s that, baby?” He turns his head slightly to see Spencer’s face resting against his shoulder, tightening his grip on his waist, pulling him closer into his warmth.

Spencer looks up to meet Derek’s eyes, and he can’t help but immediately smile. They’re still the same shade of delectable honey brown, still the same ones that melt him every time he meets his gaze, but they’re a little more lined these days. Spencer always tells Derek that age looks good on him, and he means it. He looks older, wiser, safer, and Spencer still wants to melt into his embrace every moment of the day.

“I found the journals I wrote in when I first joined the BAU.”

Derek chuckles lowly, bringing a hand to Spencer’s curls. “Those must have been a good read.”

“They were.”

“What cases did you write about?”

“Not many,” Spencer admits, sliding down the sofa until he can rest against Derek’s chest more comfortably. “I mostly wrote about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. When I was young and in love and it hurt so badly because I thought I would never have you, the only thing that I held onto was that maybe when I was older, I wouldn’t still be in love with you. And it’s sort of funny, because I’m older now, and if anything, I’m only more in love with you.”

“Oh, baby,” Derek sighs. “We really were a mess back then, huh?”

Spencer laughs. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Penelope was my journal when you first joined,” Derek recalls, tracing his fingertips over the exposed skin on Spencer’s waist where his t-shirt’s ridden up. “I would go into her office at least three times a day when we were home complaining about how much I liked you. And she’d get even more calls if we were on a case.”

“Wait, is that where you used to go when we shared a room? You always used to wander out of the room at random hours making phone calls. I thought it was weird.”

Derek laughs at that, and Spencer likes the way it makes his chest rumble underneath him. “That’s exactly what was going on, genius.”

“When she and Emily come this weekend I’m gonna get her to tell those stories,” Spencer teases.

“Let her,” Derek laughs, “I’m not embarrassed. The whole world can know I was and still am madly in love with my pretty boy, I don’t care.”

Spencer’s heart warms at that, and he marvels at Derek’s ability to still make him soft and mushy after all these years. He sits up properly, shifting up the sofa until he’s straddling Derek’s hips, cradling his face. “I love you so much,” he whispers, leaning in to press his lips against Derek’s.

“I love you more.”

“I’m pretty sure that reading even a single entry of one of those journals could convince you otherwise.”

“Oh, I will absolutely be reading those journals, baby, do not get it twisted.”

Spencer smiles, sliding off his hips to curl up next to him again, resting his head on his shoulder. “You’ve made me so happy, Derek,” he murmurs, connecting his right hand with Derek’s left.

“And nothing makes me happier than hearing that,” Derek murmurs back, caressing Spencer’s thumb with his own. “I’m gonna continue making you happy for the rest of our lives, you know that?”

Spencer sighs, content and warm and loved. “Yeah. I do.”

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @moreidstrobed

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #moreid #derek morgan #spencer reid #moreid fic #moreid fluff #derek morgan x spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #spencer reid x derek morgan #spencer reid/derek morgan

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years

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Kinda Wish She Were Dead

Heather Series Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Bonus! Readers Card Confession Series Playlist

Summery: During a night out on the town with the girls, Reader see’s something she wasn’t supposed to.

Words: 3.7k (my longest yet!)

Warnings: Swearing, a few sexual innuendos, Cheating, Mentions of Alcohol, and a fabulous right hook.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one....turn it up! Also, the song that inspired this chapter. For the meaning of the song, not that fucking boat scene.

~~~~

It’s hot.

Like “laying naked in the middle of your apartment with the air cranked and every fan blowing on you” hot.

I’m one of the lucky ones.

My old apartment was renovated to include central air a few years before I moved in.

Still, the humidity was smothering.

So why was I putting a full face of makeup on, knowing damn well I’m gonna sweat it off before the end of the night?

Because why the hell not?

It’s the first time I’ve made plans with the girls in months, and I deserve to feel pretty, even if only for an hour or two.

My therapist tells me I’m making progress.

And it finally feels like I am.

I don’t hate the day before it even starts when I wake up.

I hardly close my curtains anymore.

I’d like to say that with her help, everything went back to normal.

I go to work and come home. I hang out with my friends, water my potted plants. Talk to Spencer like I never confessed my love for him.

But it didn’t.

I haven’t really spoken to Spencer since the day I left.

I’ve wanted to.

I’ve wanted to tell him that I’m here. I’m still here. That I’m always going to be here.

That I care about him more than probably life itself.

Ever since I came back, we’ve had to work together, and we’ve had a few small conversations, but nothing like what we used to have.

I crave those conversations.

How we would bounce back and forth from idea to idea, topic to topic without so much as breaking a sweat.

The late night conversations about the probability of aliens, and life on the opposite side of the universe.

I crave him, and the intimacy he brought.

Lately though, he’s been coming to work with a sullen look on his face.

He shows up earlier, and stays later, drowning himself in his paperwork.

When her calls interrupt a caseload, he no longer eagerly picks up to hear what she has to say.

All I want to do is walk over and ask him how he’s doing. How the married life is treating him. If there’s anything I can do to help lift his spirits.

But I can’t.

I’d be overstepping a boundary I didn’t even know I created that night out on the balcony.

Knocking on my door snaps me out of my daze, and I quickly cap my lipstick, making my way towards my front door where my night stands, waiting.

JJ, Emily, and Penelope are waiting, big smiles and laughter bubbling from their lips.

I let the smile spread across my face.

“I just need to grab my shoes and then I’ll be ready.” I usher them into my hallway, running back to my bedroom to grab the pair of heels resting by my closet.

I sit on my bed, slipping them on with ease and grabbing my bag on my way out.

They all ooh and ahh when I step into the light of my kitchen, and JJ grabs my hand, twirling me in place so they can get a better look at my outfit.

“I almost forgot you had party attire, y/n.”

“God, I wish I had an ass like that. I’m older than you. That’s not fair.” Emily says, landing a playful slap against the fabric of my skirt.

“Oh stop it, you flatter me.” Once upon a time, the attention would have made me antsy. The voice in my head would whisper that they were lying to me, that they really thought I was the ugliest thing in existence.

That was then, and this is now. Now the confidence shines off of me like a spotlight.

“You deserve to be flattered, you beautiful goddess you.” Penelope says, her hands waving in the air.

I take a look in the new mirror that hangs in my hallway, and I can’t help but agree. The tight black skirt accentuates my curves, the low cut golden crop top that sticks to me like another skin puts the girls on display, and my heels give me legs for days.

I look damn good.

“Okay okay okay, pre-game selfie!” Penelope grabs her phone and holds up in front of her while we gather around.

She snaps the picture and within a few quick taps, a buzzing emits from my bag.

I dig my phone out, seeing the picture pop up in my notifications.

JJ has her arms wrapped around me, and I’m pressed to Penelope's side. Emily stands over us, one hand on JJ’s shoulder, the other on Penelopes.

I don’t think I could fake a smile like the one on my face even if I wanted to.

I save it to my phone.

~~~

If I thought being in my house, alone, with air conditioning was bad, then I shouldn't have even bothered coming out.

The bar, albeit small, was packed.

Even if there was a breeze, or any airflow at all, the combined body heat of the crowd would have swallowed it up.

I couldn’t really bring it in me to care all that much, though.

The dim lights and heat left my skin with a sexy shine, bringing attention to all the right places.

I could feel the eyes on me.

The ones belonging to men wanting to drown their sorrows in a woman like me, one who appears vulnerable, willing to go along for the ride.

It’s been a while, since I’ve had the attention of the opposite gender, especially this very specific kind of attention.

It feels good, in a way. To be wanted so openly. But it doesn’t mean jack to me, not if it’s not the pair of eyes I’ve been desperate to catch.

I should stop thinking about him.

It’s a girls night out. I don’t have to think, or worry about anything.

Besides, he’s probably busy doing other things. Thinking about me is the last thing on his mind.

I laugh and take a sip from the Shirley temple sitting in front of me, laughing as JJ recounts a story about will and a botched attempt at breakfast in bed.

I pick a cherry up from the fizzy drink, and bite the end off, relishing in the sweet flavor. I pop the stem in my mouth, twirling it around my tongue as I listen to the conversation, pulling it between my teeth and setting it down on the table in a knot.

“Oh my god. Did you just tie a cherry stem with your tongue?” Penelope is cheesing from the other side of the table, the bright pink straw of her margarita almost to her lips.

I laugh, holding it up for them to inspect.

“You know what that means.” Emily says, taking a sip from her own drink, before continuing her thought. “You, my friend, can give great head.”

A blush covers my cheek, but I cock an eyebrow. “Who told you?”

The three women burst into high pitched laughter, and I see Pen pull out her phone. She holds it up to me.

“Do it again. The internet needs to be blessed with this knowledge.”

I chuckle again, the spirit of the night enough to get me drunk off the energy. I grab another cherry from my drink, sucking the end into my mouth before popping it off, and swallowing it.

“Alright, we have one, untied cherry stem before us.” I hold out the stem for the camera to see. “Now watch as I tie it with no hands.” I stick out my tongue, placing it in the middle before closing my mouth.

I rest my elbows on the table, working my tongue around the stem, forcing it into submission to do exactly what I want.

Within 15 seconds, I pull it through my teeth, and hold up a tied cherry stem.

“Ta-da! Magic.” I place it on the table as they clap, smiles wide and goofy from their own alcoholic concoctions.

“She’s single people. And there’s a line forming so shoot your shot.” JJ is the one to speak to the camera, and I giggle, taking another sip.

Penelope brings her phone down, and within a minute my phone buzzes again, this time with the notification of the video being posted.

There are worse things to be posted on the internet about me.

“I never knew you could do that, y/n/n.” Pen says, taking a sip from her drink.

I run a hand through my hair, shrugging. “Didn’t think I needed to put it on my resume. It’s mostly a party trick I use when I like someone. I haven’t used it in years though.”

The unspoken question lingers on the air.

“No, I never showed Spencer. But I’m sure it’d blow his mind. The way that man applies math and logic to everything he does just solidifies the fact that I know he wouldn’t be able to do it.”

It’s been a while since I’ve joked about him openly, but it wasn’t forced. It didn’t hurt.

It was just a natural statement.

“Have you guys noticed that something’s up with him? He seems distant lately.” JJ says, leaning in closer so she doesn’t have to talk over the crowd.

“Okay, so it’s not just me.” I reply, playing with the straw in my drink.

“It’s gotta be something at home. I mean, he doesn’t even remotely act the way that he did when him and Heather first got together.” Emily's eyes look me up and down, reading my body language, but I’m done hiding.

I let the building anger ripple through me.

“He seems...sad. And not like, normal Reid sad where it has to do with his mom or something, no this is like..” she stops herself from continuing the sentence.

I finish it for her. “It’s like, me, sad.”

JJ sighs. “I hate to say it, but do you think it has anything to do with Heather?”

A glass shatters across the room, and like the red sea, the crowd parts.

Everything happens in no more than a couple seconds, but it feels like a lifetime.

Through the empty space, I see two people standing at the bar. The woman has her hands wound into the man's shirt, her body turned as she laughs at someone behind her, I’m assuming the one who dropped the glass.

The man has his hands gripped on her hips, smiling into her hair, before she turns back around, connecting their lips in the most disgusting kiss I have had the displeasure of witnessing.

The rage builds swiftly in my stomach and it pulses from my soul outward. The world’s tint changes and I see red.

“Even if it doesn’t right now, it will.”

When the hell did I stand up?

They stand with me, and I’m about to argue my point when Emily speaks. “You want something to record, Garcia?” She moves by me, fixing my hair, handing me her glass which holds a swig of her drink left. “Record this.”

I take it, downing it for a little liquid luck, and start for the bar, the three of them on my heels.

I profile him as best I can in the 20 seconds it takes to get through the now reforming crowd.

There’s a gold ring on his hand. His pants and shirt are dirty, and his boots are thick. He works in something having to do with construction, which means he’s probably done around 5 every night, and I know for a fact that it is way past that.

I walk up to them, grabbing her shoulder and pulling them apart, stepping in between them, getting face to face to him.

“Before you even think about laying a hand on me, my name is SSA Y/L/N of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the F.B.I. From the look of your clothes and the ring on your finger, I’m gonna go ahead and assume that your wife is waiting for you at home.”

His hand instinctively falls to his back pocket.

“And since you just reached for what I’m assuming is your phone, she’s called you multiple times tonight. She knows. Now, fuck off and maybe you can salvage things with her, but believe me when I say this,” His breath smells sour. “You aren’t even half the man that she’s married to.”

He opens his mouth to say something, looking from me, to Heather, to the three women surrounding her, keeping her from leaving, and the camera pointed directly at his face.

He looks back down to me, and huffs, stepping back and walking in the other direction.

For a moment, I stare at where he stood.

And then a fire ignites in my stomach and it takes everything in me to not beat the girl standing behind me.

I turn, and lightning strikes behind her eyes.

“You’re not gonna tell him.”

“Like hell I’m not!” I take a step forward, and she takes one back, bumping into Emily who has her arms crossed, and her shoulders raised. “You know, I tried so hard to give you the benefit of the doubt, Heather. You made him happy and I honestly thought you loved him, but I realize now that he deserves someone so much better than you.”

“Oh what, someone like you?” She’s snide, her demeanor defensive and cocky at the same time. She thinks she’s gonna come out on top of this.

“You know what? Yes. Someone like me. Someone who wouldn’t even think about doing this to him, because the amount of pain that he is about to go through doesn’t even come close to the stupid fucking reward. Oh, so you slept with some douchebag because what? You’re not getting enough attention?” The words are cathartic, leaving my belly with the venom that has been brewing there for the past 2 and half years.

“I found your letter. I was right about you.”

That would have stopped me in my tracks 6 months ago. Now I don’t even flinch.

“Oh honey, it’s not a fucking secret anymore. You want to hear me say it? I love him. I am in love with Spencer fucking Reid, and the only reason that he is with you, is because I was a decent human being and could see that you made him happy, so I kept my mouth shut. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t give a flying fuck what happens now, because whatever it is, it has to be better than being with a lying, cheating bitch like you.”

“You think he’s gonna run to you? Is that what you’re hoping for? He’s not gonna believe you. And even if he did, I’d turn on the water works and make him believe it was just this one time.”

She doesn’t know she’s being filmed.

I turn to the bartender. “Excuse me, is she a regular here?”

The bartender smirks, wiping down the wood. “Yep. She comes in at least a couple times a week with that dude you kicked to the curb. They almost always leave together.”

Heather scoffs, crossing her arms. “Again, he’ll never believe you.”

“You sure about that hot stuff?” Penelope steps forward, shoving the camera in her face. “Smile for the camera.”

Heather's eyes go wide, before turning to me. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would do it for a fucking corn chip.”

I place my hands on my hips, getting so close to her our noses almost touch. My voice is dangerously low when I speak. “Either you tell him everything or I will. And trust me. I have my ways of finding out if you did.”

I step back, wishing the daggers in my eyes could inflict actual pain, as I turn to walk away.

I hear her shout in frustration before I feel her hands on my back, pushing me forward into the mass of people.

A couple people unaware of the confrontation help me back up with a smile, thinking I’ve just drunkenly tripped over myself.

Emily and JJ each hold one of my arms, making sure I’m stable, while Penelope keeps filming a look of shock on her face.

A wicked smile forms on my face.

I was hoping she’d do something like that.

I turn and my fist connects with her face, a nice cracking noise satisfying the lust building in my chest, as a thin coat of blood covers my knuckles.

Though, it’s not my blood.

She’s holding her nose in pain as she falls to the floor, taking down a bar stool with her, and I swear I see the bartender laugh.

I grab a napkin off the bar, wiping my knuckles before throwing it on the floor by her feet.

“C’mon girls. The night is still young.”

I see them cover their own smiles with their hands, and Penelope starts to giggle the shock away.

I know I should feel bad. It was unprofessional of me.

But she shoved me first.

It is, legally, self-defense.

Is it sick that I wish she would have punched me?

It doesn’t matter anyway. I know she won’t press charges. She’s smart enough to know she just dug her grave.

And now she has to lie in it.

~~~~

The atmosphere is different when I walk into the office the next morning.

It’s tense.

And one look from JJ and an inhale of air tells me why.

Spencer’s here.

I barely have time to set my bag down on my desk, before he grabs me suddenly by the arm, dragging me into a nearby conference room.

The anger is rolling off of him in waves, and I can see by the way he clenches and unclenches his fists, he is pissed.

He almost throws me into the room, slamming the door behind him.

“You want to tell me why the fuck you punched Heather in the face for no damn reason?”

Stupid, stupid girl.

Did she not think, that the way I would find out, would be from Spencer himself?

I can’t help but shake my head and laugh. “She didn’t tell you.”

“She told me that she was having a drink with a girlfriend of hers when you came up drunk, yelling at her, until you just punched her. Can you explain that to me?”

He’s finally yelling at me. After months of begging for him to yell at me, he finally is.

It doesn’t feel as good as I had hoped it would.

I don’t say anything, just pull out my phone to find the video that Garcia sent me.

“Are you serious right now, Y/N? Put your fucking phone down and explain to me why you broke my wife's nose!”

I sit in a chair, setting the phone on the table and sliding it towards him. I lean back and cross my hands over my stomach.

“Watch the video, Spencer.”

“Why? Why should I listen to anything you tell me?”

I lean forward, onto my elbow, annunciating every syllable. “Watch the damn video.”

He stands, and I watch as he fights with himself, before huffing in defeat, sitting in a chair and pulling my phone towards him.

He presses play.

I watch as his anger flows away with each passing second, despair taking its place.

This is what I wasn’t looking forward to. Seeing him see it for the first time.

Watching him break.

It wasn’t pretty.

I watch as tears form in his eyes and silently drop down his cheeks.

He clenches his jaw as he watches her shove me, and the punch that followed.

The room is dead quite when the video ends.

I’m the one who speaks first, my voice soft.

“I punched her, because she had the audacity to do this. She had the audacity to hurt you, and flaunt that fact publicly.”

I swallow, taking a breath before speaking.

“I meant everything I said in that video, Spence.”

He looks up at the nickname, his anger no longer directed at me.

“She hurt you, and I saw red. I didn’t think about what I was doing, and frankly, I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t regret standing up for you. I never have, and I never will.” I clasp my hands together, forcing myself to continue.

“I love you Spencer. I don’t think that’s ever going to change. I’m going to have to live with you finding other people and falling in love, and I promise you, I will support you in that. But not with her. Not after that. You deserve so much better than a girl who thinks she can get away with this just because she’s pretty and jealous.”

He taps a couple things on my phone, before turning the screen off and sliding it back over to me.

He stands.

I don’t. I continue talking as he walks over to me.

“You mean everything to me, Spence. If I know you’re happy, truly happy, then I’m satisfied. I will defend you until the end of the universe comes. You are my best friend, and I love you. And I’m sorry I was never upfront about it before, but I am now.”

I look up at him as he stands in front of me. “I’m done hiding from you.”

He’s still for a moment.

He reaches down and grabs my hands, pulling me up before he wraps his arms around my waist and buries himself into my neck.

I pause, but only for a moment, before wrapping my arms around him and holding him tight against me.

I can feel the wet spots on my neck as he cries, and his hands wind themselves into the fabric of my shirt.

When was the last time he was held like this?

I don’t count the time until he loosens his grip, stepping back from me and wiping his face.

I would hold him until the end of time if he let me.

“Thank you.” He whispers, before moving towards the door.

He opens it and walks out, and I grab my phone, running after him.

I stop in the doorway.

“Hey!”

He stops and turns, and the rest of the team is watching over their files.

My heart is pounding, and I feel out of breath.

“I don’t have a choice,” I let him remember. “But I still choose you.”

A small smile flutters across his face, before he turns and walks away.

I look down at my phone.

Spence xp

[Video]

Sent, 9:06 a.m.

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hotchscotchh · 3 years

Text

Reimagined; Chapter 10 - Beth Clemmons

Hehe >:)

Summary: Two years later...

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid

Warnings: NSFW, angst

Word Count:1.7k

Read on AO3

Chapter 9 ---- Chapter 11

Based 7x16, A Family Affair

Spencer Reid was pissed off. And he felt he had every right to be. Hotch had moved on. He had gone and found himself a goddamn girlfriend and brought her to this fucking triathlon Spencer didn’t want to come to in the first place. What joy did people get out of watching other people put themselves through hell? And what did the people participating get out of it? He didn’t see the point. He was already tired from babysitting the night before and had to get up early just to stand there for two hours waiting for Hotch to cross the finish line. Sure, he was enjoying the time with his coworkers outside of work, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t rather be home with Pluto and a large book.

Anyway, back to the main point. Beth. The name left a sour taste in his mouth. Hotch hadn’t spoken to him other than as a subordinate or a distant friend since that fateful day, almost two years ago now. Not even when Haley was killed. Spencer had lost count of the number of times he had tried to reach out to the man, tried to offer support, just to be shot down and told “I’m not ready for this yet, Reid.” The man couldn’t even stand to call Spencer by his first name anymore. And God, did that hurt. He hadn’t even tried for friendship again with Spencer, but here he was, introducing some woman he met to the team and his son. That’s what hurt the most. This woman was meeting Jack. Spencer hadn’t even met Jack. Not really. Not as anything more than that weird smart guy dad works with.

He wondered if Hotch had noticed how upset he was. Probably not, he was too focused on Beth. Morgan had though, and he was worried. About Spencer and Hotch. Morgan had been spending a lot more time with Spencer in the past two years than he ever had before. He knew that Spencer was going to need a distraction, so he recruited the young genius to “help” him with some of his renovation projects (he wasn’t very good at it). Recently, he’d started to take Spencer to bars. And the man was a hit at every single one of them; he didn’t think Spencer had spent a weekend (that they weren’t on a case, of course) alone in at least a year. People, mostly men, seemed to be drawn to his awkward self. Morgan couldn’t figure it out. Sure, Spencer was pretty, but he’d never seen him as “fuckable,” not like these people do.

This habit was what had him worried. All of the people he took home were like Hotch in some way. They always had dark hair and brown eyes. He almost never brought home a man that wasn’t wearing a suit. Morgan thought it was becoming unhealthy. He was concerned for his sexual health, though he knew Spencer wouldn’t keep a lifestyle like this without being screened regularly, but he was also concerned for his mental health. He was worried Hotch was becoming an obsession that Spencer would never get over. Everyone has an ex that takes a long time to get over, but this length of time was concerning.

He was worried for Hotch because he hadn’t made amends with Spencer and it was obviously weighing on his shoulders. Morgan was sure he was the only one that saw the long, lingering looks Spencer received when he wasn’t paying attention. He was the only one that saw they way Hotch had to restrain himself from casually reaching out and laying a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. The only one that saw how Hotch held him back in every conversation he had with the younger man, silently praying to one god r another that he wouldn’t screw up and say the wrong thing.

But here he was now. With Beth. Introducing her to the team. Rossi had a knowing smirk on his face that Morgan just wanted to punch off. He had a feeling Rossi was behind their “courtship,” but knowing for sure just made it worse. He was going to have a long talk with him later. Get him in on his “holy shit, I need to fix this because they’re to stupid to do it themselves” thoughts.

Spencer was trying to get out of going out to lunch with the rest of the team. He didn’t want the pain of seeing Hotch and Beth in a more casual setting, touching, kissing, being disgustingly domestic. Morgan, though, wasn’t having any of that. He knew Spencer seeing them together would push him to start getting over Hotch (finally), push him to finally confront his former lover, or just piss him off even more. He was hoping for one of the first two, obviously. So, when Spencer said, “okay guys, I’m going to head home. I haven’t been home since the beginning of the case and Pluto needs to be fed,” Morgan couldn’t help but come back with a “Oh, come on, Pretty Boy! It’ll be no fun without you. I’m sure your neighbor is keeping your cat nice and fed. And I know if you go home now you’re just going to eat poptarts, and I can’t let you do that and keep a clear conscious.”

Spencer glared for a few moments before sighing and shaking his head. “Fine.”

---

Half an hour later found them in a diner that could barely hold all of them, at least four tables pushed together, and sipping on Cokes and coffee. They had ordered and were waiting on their meals. Spencer was sitting as far as he possibly could from Hotch and Beth, Morgan sitting next to him.

“What’s going on in that big genius brain, Pretty Boy?”

Spencer abruptly pulled himself from his thoughts, startled by Morgan using his famed nickname. He dropped his head and looked at his hands which were drawing patterns on his legs. “I’m really pissed off, Derek. I thought he would have at least tried for friendship by now. It’s been two years, for god’s sake. I think I just realized that he’s not going to come to me. I need to talk to him, don’t I?” He looked back up at Derek, eyes brimming with tears Morgan knew he wouldn’t let fall.

“Yeah, Spencer. You do. I wish you had figured it out sooner. It’s been hard watching you go through this, but I was hoping you would figure it out for yourself. And, Spencer, look. They’re not acting like a couple. Hotch hasn’t touched her once. I think they really might just be training partners, and a friend he thought we might like.”

Spencer looked over and watched them for a few minutes. He nodded. He was going to say something more to Morgan, but their food was set down in front of them, cutting him off.

----

9 P.M. found Spencer knocking on Aaron Hotchner’s apartment door. He figured Jack would be asleep by now. He knew he probably looked pathetic standing there is his plaid pajama pants, t-shirt, and frayed cardigan, but he started speaking the moment Hotch opened the door, anyway.

“Are you fucking Beth?”

“Reid? What- I don’t think that’s really any of your business.” If Spencer thought he looked pathetic, then Aaron certainly did. He was dressed the same, without the cardigan, but he had red eyes and tear stained cheeks to add to the look.

“Answer the damn question, Hotch.”

Hotch just stared at the man in front of him for a few minutes, trying to decide if he wanted to punch him, kiss him, or just answer the question. He decided to go the less violent route. “No, Reid. I’m not fucking Beth. Is that all?”

Before Spencer knew what he was doing, he had moved forward, Aaron’s face in his hands, their lips pressed roughly together. He pushed Aaron backward and into the wall in his foyer, kicking the door shut behind him. He was surprised, though he shouldn’t have been, to find Aaron kissing him back. Aaron had quickly dominated the kiss, and was now flipping them so Spencer was the one pressed against the wall. Spencer’s hands slid from Aaron’s face down his front and up his shirt, fingers finding and brushing over the scars he had yet to see.

Aaron pulled away with a gasp. “Is this okay?” Aaron nodded and attached his lips to Spencer’s neck. Spencer threw his head back with a groan. Aaron pulled them away from the wall and over to the couch, unbuttoning Spencer’s shirt on the way there. Spencer slid out of his pajama pants before pushing Aaron back onto the couch and straddling his lap. There was something extremely erotic about being mostly naked while Aaron was still fully clothed. They immediately resumed their kissing and groping, Spencer grinding down into Aaron’s crotch. Aaron reached over to the drawer in the table next to the couch where he knew condoms and lube still resided (he hadn’t been able to make himself move them).

Aaron coated his fingers in lube and reached into Spencer’s boxers, not hesitating before pressing his finger all they way inside Spencer, earning him an obscene moan. He covered Spencer’s mouth with his other had. “Shh, Jack is sleeping.” Spencer nodded. Aaron thrusted his finger in and out of Spencer for a few moments, carefully avoiding his prostate, and enjoying the small gasps and stifled moans he was receiving. “Can you take me with just this?” Spencer nodded again. Aaron pulled his finger out and lifted his hips to pull down his pajama pants just enough to release his straining erection. He tore the wrapper of the condom with his teeth and rolled the condom onto his cock. He covered Spencer’s mouth with his hand before he lined up and started to press in, earning him a long, stifled moan. The rocked together, hot and rough, before quickly finding their release.

When they had calmed down enough, Aaron left to the bathroom to find a rag to clean them with. He did, and proceeded to pull Spencer to the bedroom with him, Spencer too tired to object. They laid together, Aaron holding Spencer tight to his body. Sleep found them both easily that night.

But, Aaron woke to a bed containing nothing but a note that read “talk later.”

Taglist: @wheelsup @endingsbeginnings

#Aaron Hotcher x Spencer Reid #Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid #hotchreid #moreid (bromance)#Aaron Hotchner #Spencer Reid #Derek Morgan #Beth Clemmons #David Rossi #Jennifer Jareau #Penelope Garcia #Emily Prentiss #angst #alot #alotalotalot #of angst #hehe

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dontshootmespence · 6 years

Text

Broken Homes Fix Broken Hearts

Chapter 19

So who else is loving Derek and Juliet as much as @veroinnumera and I? Let us know!

------

“How many boxes can you possibly have?” Juliet asked incredulously, glancing all around her expansive living room at the copious amounts of crap Derek managed to bring with him. “I have never known a man with so much crap.”

Her sweet, badass boyfriend cut his eyes at her. “I have a lot of shirts and pictures of family and gym equipment...shut up! I have a lot of crap.”

Juliet snickered as she opened one of the boxes and saw a couple pictures from his mantelpiece. They were going to have to make a place for all of these pictures. This was his family - and hopefully in time, they’d be her family too. “It’s okay. I love you anyway.”

“Don’t even get me started,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You’re the one who practically proposed to me.”

“Shut up!”

------

It had been three weeks since everything had fallen apart and back together again. Well, mostly back together. Derek was still suspended because of some stupid federal government bureaucrats who refused to take their heads out of their asses. He’d been keeping busy working on other renovations, helping her out at the library, and enjoying the first real break he’d gotten from work in years. He seemed happy, but it killed Juliet inside to know he wasn’t out there doing what he really needed to be doing. Somehow these idiots couldn’t see that they were sidelining their best player. Oh, yeah, they’d also been watching sports together and not to brag but her “lingo” was getting pretty great.

Right now he was downstairs making pancakes. The smell wafted all the way up to the second floor, providing enough motivation for Juliet to pull herself out of bed. She looked around for clothes, only to realize the only articles she could find belonged to him.

Juliet paused for a moment after slipping on one of Derek’s old Northwestern University T-shirts. He hadn’t gone home for a night since everything had happened with Carter. He’d slept in her room every single night. And it looked like his closet had essentially appeared in her room. His toothbrush was next to hers on the sink. His shoes sat beside hers at the front door. All the little things said that his life was here, with her.

Was she thinking what she thought she was thinking?

...She wanted Derek to move in. Officially. Oh wow, that’s a big step. Am I ready for that? Are we ready for that? What the hell am I saying? He disarmed a bomb for me and refused to leave my side even though it meant his certain death, of course we’re ready.

This was what she wanted.

Unequivocally.

After having pancakes with Derek, she told him she had a quick errand she needed to run, which was good for him because he had to meet up with his team to figure out where the bureaucratic bullshit was heading. Of course they were good little conservationists and showered together, saving the planet’s all important water before heading their separate ways.

Since Carter had reappeared and forever disappeared, she’d been a little extra nervous getting on with her daily routine, but on the opposing end, she knew she had Derek, who was literally ready to walk through fire for her. As long as he was hers, she’d be okay. She was sure of it.

The first few stops were easy; the local party supply store to get streamers and balloons, flowers from Andra’s (a bouquet of freesias which according to Spencer symbolized complete trust), and candles from the fancy little artisanal shop around the corner.

Then came the hard part: food. Juliet wasn’t much of a cook. Over the years she’d learned how to make a few very basic things, but she stuck to them like glue. Eggs, grilled chicken with vegetables, and a few others were staples she was very confident in. Unfortunately none of those were Derek’s favorite. As she’d learned a long time ago from the very first pizza they’d shared. Derek Morgan was a “meat man.” He also loved Mexican food. So that meant steak fajitas.

Juliet had never cooked a steak before. She’d seen it done on Food Network and in Youtube videos….but she’d never actually tried to do it herself before. But special occasions called for stepping up one’s game. And if a hunk of red meat stood between her and moving in with the man she loved, then she was going to cook the hell out of it.

Figuratively. She was fairly certain overcooked steak was bad.

A couple hours later, the key was made, the food was made and she was panicking. What if the food was awful? Screw it, we’ll order out. What if he says no? Again, what the fuck brain, he loves me. He saved my life.

With the rice and beans made and set out on the table and all of the fajita fixings set out buffett style, she tried one more small piece of the steak to make sure it was okay. It wasn’t chewy or tough. That was a good thing, right?

The streamers were in place. Flowers in the vase? Check. Balloons blown up? Check, check. Candles lit? Triple check. “Okay this is good,” she muttered to herself. “He’s not gonna say no. He loves you. It’s all good.”

She was taken aback when she heard his car pull up, unlocking the door and sitting at the table to wait for him. “Well, well,” he said; he was about to get his flirt on. “This is all for me?”

When she nodded, he replied, “Then I might have to return to favor one of these days. Or later on.” His over exaggerated wink made her snort with laughter. “You made fajitas!” He exclaimed, eyes going wide. “You do love me.”

“You know I do you dork.” Juliet smiled, glancing down at the floor nervously. “I made beans and rice too. And all the toppings are on the counter. I think this is the first time there’s ever been a tablecloth on this table and-” She cut herself off. Oh fuck I’m rambling.

She was rambling, and it was quite possibly the most adorable thing Derek had ever seen. “Everything alright?” He asked gently, sitting down and piling some fajitas onto his plate. He was listening attentively but this all looked too good not to start eating.

Juliet nodded, unable to help but laugh at the sight of him tearing into his food. He looked about five. To be fair though, she looked the same way around good food. Say something. Just start talking. But nothing came out. It was like she could see the words written down on flashcards inside her head but her voice wasn’t working.

Slowly, she pulled the key out of her pocket and tossed it hesitantly to him. Given her poor aim it fell onto his plate rather than landing in his lap. Apparently watching sports didn’t make someone better at throwing.

Derek picked it up off the plate, staring at it quizzically for a moment, glancing up at her for some sort of context.

“Your toothbrush is next to mine on the sink!” Juliet found herself blurting. Wait. That didn’t make any sense. Try again. “I-I mean...would you...maybe, possibly, want to move in here? With me?” She asked softly, voice faltering slightly as she met his gaze.

This was it.

For a split second, her brain told her she’d fucked this up, but then Derek smiled wider than she’d ever seen him smile before. “You want me to move in? Is that what all this was about? A dinner to get me to say yes?”

“Maybe?” Juliet said. Plausible deniability.

Grabbing the key, he placed it on his keyring and stood up, walking to the other end of the table and taking her mouth in a sweet but heated kiss. “You didn’t need to do all this to get me to say yes, but the answer is yes.”

“Really?”

“Why do you look so surprised?”

“Anxiety.”

He snickered and kissed the tip of her nose. “Touche. Also, I had no idea you could cook.”

“Is the steak good? I’ve never cooked steak so I was hoping it didn’t suck.”

“It definitely didn’t suck.” Derek grinned

------

“And you haven’t cooked for me since then.” He pointed out teasingly.

“That’s why I asked you to move in. So I could avoid cooking. It was all a ploy. I’m using you for your body and your culinary talents.” Juliet pushed back.

Derek came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Somehow I think I can find a way to be okay with that. In fact I love when you use me.” He whispered, trailing kisses down her neck.

She giggled, he was trying to be sexy which it was but it sounded straight out of a daytime soap opera and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh? So you think this is funny? I’ll show you funny.” He warned jokingly, before lifting her up onto the couch and starting a tickle attack.

“No! Please! I’m sorry!” Juliet gasped in between uncontrollable shrieks of laughter.

It felt good to be home.

@epiphanyys @crimeshowtrash @literallyprentissstwin @jazz91121 @jennferjareau @spencer-puppies-and-stuff @fl0werb0nes18 @stunudo @spencerthepipecleaner @theofficeofsupremegenius @ultrarebelheart @lookwhatyoumademequeue @lukeassmanalvez @mentallydatingspencerreid @nobravery @criminal-anatomy @matthew-gray-reidler @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @original-criminal-fanfics @lovelukealvez @stories-you-wont-hear @speedreiding @marvelfanlife @butsomeofusarelookingatthestars @wonderboygenius @spxcxrrxid @imagines-for-criminal-minds @acespence @sweater-vest-reid @criminalmindskeepsmealive @spenncerreiid @sam-carter-in-training @parker-hopper @spencerwreid @ssahotchner @profiler-in-training @were-skye @trollitis @heyboywonder @ficrecswithcassie @janiedreams88 @gingeraleandcontemplation @cynbx @fortheloveofspencerreid @tippy06 @cleocc @bestillmystuckyheart @ssaunitchief @xxm3xxj @xocriminal-minds-imaginesxo

#derek morgan #derek morgan x oc #derek morgan x juliet hunter lewis #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan fanfic #derek morgan fic #derek morgan imagine #dontshootmespence #veroinnumera #broken homes fix broken hearts

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all-scout-blog · 6 years

Text

The Late Night Economy

Late at night inside Catch-22, a popular bar in downtown Tuscaloosa, a crowd of people gather. Through the thick cigarette smoke and adjacent the collection of liquor bottles often stands a few weary looking line cooks wearing chef’s coat and slip-resistant Crocs fresh off a long dinner service. In the booth in the corner, a few servers are jovial and choke back cigarettes as their aprons rest on the seat beside them. A line cook from one restaurant takes a shot of tequila with a hostess from another. A server closes his tab and gives a fat tip to the bartender for pouring his drink a little strong and for tipping well at his own restaurant.

Peyton Winstead sits down a table outside on the patio. He is a server and kitchen runner at 301, an upscale American bistro a few blocks away and is here with a few other friends from work.

“This is the Mecca of service industry folks,” Winstead said. “I may have only made $50 tonight, but I’ll probably spend $30 of that.”

Winstead is one of the many people that work within the service industry in Tuscaloosa, the restaurants, bars, and shuttle/taxi service that make up a large portion of the buildings and businesses that cater to the nearly 40,000 students of The University of Alabama. Like many within the service industry, Winstead spends a large majority of his time when not working at a restaurant going out to eat or drinking at other restaurants.

“I spend probably three or four nights a week going out,” Winstead said. “You just can’t escape it. You spend so much of your time around food and drink, that when you get off that’s all you want to do.”

Along with spending a large majority of his time, Winstead spends a large majority of his income on food, drinks and tipping.

“For expenses, I probably pay around $415 a month,” Winstead said. “I spend double if not triple that on going out. Some may see it as a problem, but I see it as me having fun with my friends.”

Across town, Onur Oztas zooms across the road on a 7-seater golf cart between dormitories and student housing. He’s dropping off a few freshmen girls that were at a fraternity party for the night for his job with Joyride, a golf cart Taxi service that covers a small area around campus and popular apartment complexes. Each girl hands him $3 and walks off.

“It’s not a bad gig,” Oztas said. “I get to ride around in a golf cart and meet new people and get paid. The freshmen and girls don’t really tip well, but it’s ok.”

Oztas get’s paid a 50 percent commision on all he makes. Football game days are particularly busy for Joyride and the rest of Tuscaloosa restaurants and bars. On a typical game day in Tuscaloosa, Oztas estimates he collects in around $500-$700, most of which comes from fans from out of town.

Unlike Winstead, Oztas is careful to set back the money he makes from working at Joyride.

“My parent’s cover most of my bills, rent and the other stuff,” Oztas said. “School is taken care of mostly by scholarships, so the rest I just put back and save. I honestly don’t spend much on going out.”

Oztas says his lack of contribution back into the late night economy might also have to do with the subtle perks and incentives that come with a job around service industry workers.

“Pretty often I’ll give rides to bartenders or bouncers I know and they’ll tip me really well or give me a free drink next time I come into their place,” Oztas said. “It’s a cyclical system.”

What Oztas describes as a cyclical system is the service industry worker’s way of bartering from establishment to establishment. Drinks, rides and other favors like these often go unrecorded and may not be taxed, but the effect of these small exchanges still may greatly benefit the overall local economy.

According to studies done by Civic Economics, a private firm that collects data on economic development, for every dollar spent on a locally owned restaurant in cities with comparable size and access to resources as Tuscaloosa, roughly 70 cents is ultimately returned as revenue in the city.

Since 2007, Station ABC 3340 of Birmingham reports that city of Tuscaloosa has seen the population increase 20 percent with a 15,000 growth in students to the University. Along with the boom in population, the city has experienced a growth in unique businesses that fall directly in or adjacent to the late night economy.

Jason Spikes remembers destroying the plaster off the side of a wall with a jack hammer while renovating an old barbershop on University Blvd. while building a brewery with a few of his friends. Spikes is a part of the new wave of craft breweries that has come to Tuscaloosa within the last 5 years. Some may see it as meeting the demand of the growing market of students and residents.

“The passing of the Overlay is what did it,” Spikes said. “That’s what really helped bring a lot great stuff downtown into this thriving and cool area.”

Spikes references the Downtown/Riverfront Overlay District, a set of zoning and commissioning regulations and restrictions adopted by the city of Tuscaloosa in 2007. The Overlay covers areas along the Black Warrior River and around the University’s campus and was adopted to retain the functional and visual look of Tuscaloosa to promote business. The regulations have a host of restrictions that mostly limit businesses along the Overlay to restaurants and bars, office spaces and retail shops.

Al Spencer is the Vice President of Economic Development and Public Policy at the West Alabama Chamber of Commerce.

“The Overlay actually made it harder to open up business downtown and along the Strip,” Spencer said. “Those business that do make it through that extra loop usually end up stronger and contributing better to Tuscaloosa.”

Peyton Winstead leans back and finishes his beer on the patio chair of Catch-22. He gets up, chucks his plastic cup away, and goes back inside only to return with two more beers in his hands and a shot of pickle vodka.

“Damnit, Carlo did it again,” Winstead said. ”He bought me another round of drinks.”

“Who’s that?” a friend asks.

“Some guy that works at another restaurant,” Winstead said.

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dontshootmespence · 7 years

Text

Forevermore

A/N: An anon request for a Spencer x Luke wedding and night of! They will be separated so anyone who doesn’t want to read the smut can just read the other part. Also, does Luke have a brother? I don’t know if it was ever mentioned. He has a brother now. LOL Enjoy! <3 @coveofmemories

P.S. The Spanish used was done from Google. I hope it’s mostly correct.

P.S.S. The smut/night of is under the STARRED page break for those that want to avoid that.

----

It seemed a tradition in the BAU. Having a party? Do it at Rossi’s place. Getting married? Do it at Rossi’s place.

“Thanks again, Rossi,” Luke said, looking up at the archway he’d built as a surprise for his soon to be husband. “There’s no way we would’ve been able to pull this off without you.

Rossi clapped the groom on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t imagine it any other way. You two are stupidly great for each other. And after all Reid’s been through, it’s amazing to see him so happy. This looks fantastic by the way.” For weeks now, Luke had been scouring used yard sales for hardcover books he could use. Once he found what he needed, he spent a week assembling them into an archway for them to get married under. The books were all different sizes and splayed at different angles, so it was truly unique. Spencer had no clue. Luke hoped he’d love it. It was Luke’s wedding gift to his new husband.

“Still,” Luke said. “I’m fairly new to the team, as Garcia always likes to point out.” Since the day he started, she’d called him Newbie. It had been two years. She’d never let it go.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re one of us now. And Reid loves you.” Rossi’s warm smile could’ve thawed the coldest of hearts.

The girls were inside fawning over Spencer, and Rossi and Walker were outside with Luke. All of a sudden, they heard faint footsteps behind them. “Woah, does Pretty Boy know about this archway?” Spencer’s best man, his best friend Derek Morgan had just arrived. Luke turned around the pull him into a hug.

“No, he has no clue. And you lost out,” he smiled. “He’s my Pretty Boy now.” Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed his own wedding ring to give to Derek to hold for Spencer.

Derek laughed just as Savannah and baby Hank walked up from nearby. “I’ve never seen him so happy. Hurt him and I’ll kill you.”

“Duly noted,” Luke replied.

Derek examined the wedding ring, a plain platinum with an inscription inside - I love you 5.1.19. - today’s date. “His say the same thing?” Derek asked.

Luke couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “No, his has today’s date and ‘I know’ written on it. Derek looked confused for a second until a smirk formed at the corners of his lips.

“Star Wars reference,” he said happily. “You’re both dorks.”

That was one of the many reasons Luke loved him. Together, they were still completely themselves.

---

When Luke finished up with the archway, he went to go get changed. Spencer was already ready, but he was threatening to sweat through his suit. He loved Luke - so much - but he was an inherently nervous person. “187, you’re gonna be fine,” Garcia said. “Don’t worry that beautiful little head of yours.”

“I can’t help it,” Spencer smiled, falling backward onto the bed in one of Rossi’s spare rooms. He was dressed in his own black and white suit. Only difference was that Luke would be wearing Captain America cufflinks and Spencer would be sporting Darth Vader.

“Wearing the mismatched socks?” Tara asked. It was a well known fact that Spencer never matched his socks, but today’s pair was special.

Taking his hand off his face, he reached down and pulled one pant leg up, revealing a Captain America sock. The other one had Star Wars on it. “What do they say?” JJ asked, her smile threatening to crack her face in half. She couldn’t contain how happy she was for one of her best friends in the entire world. He had been through so much and waited for so long for someone that loved him inside and out, and then Luke came along. They were perfect for each other.

“The Star Wars sock says ‘I know,’ and Luke’s says ‘I love you.” A tiny, almost imperceptible smile came to his face thinking about his perfect match. “And the Captain America one says ‘I’m with you’ and his says ‘Till the end of the line.’

“Oh my god,” Tara sighed happily, clutching her heart. “That’s too cute, I can’t take it.”

It was nearly time. Everything was set up and his mother was just about ready to walk him down the aisle. She’d already threatened Luke with death on numerous occasions if he were to ever hurt her boy. “You ready?” Garcia asked. Her smile could’ve pushed everyone else out of the room it was so wide and bright. Excitedly, she clapped her hands and pulled Spencer off the bed. “Here you are Mrs. Reid.”

The ladies made their way outside, leaving Spencer and his mother ready alone. “You ready?” Diana asked, pushing a strand of hair out of her son’s face. “As much as I threaten him, I really do love that man you chose. He’s a good man.”

“He is,” Spencer replied. He took his mother’s arm and started walking outside. Hopefully, once he saw Luke, he’d gain his footing again, because right now, he felt like a baby giraffe learning to walk for the first time.

---

As Pachelbel’s Canon started playing (they’d nearly gone with the Imperial March), Luke watched as Spencer walked out of the house with his mother next to him. He always looked amazing, but he had to stifle the welling tears as his soon-to-be husband made his way toward him.

Spencer on the other hand smiled wider than he ever thought possible. Luke was crying. He could see it. And it got him going in return. “You look amazing,” he said when Diana hand her son over. “And don’t worry,” he said in her direction, “I’ll never hurt him.”

“I know you won’t.”

It was at that moment that Spencer got a good look at the archway. “We can’t get rid of this,” he said as a tear rolled down his face. “This is amazing and I want it in our house forever.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Luke laughed as he grabbed his hand. For a second, they just decided to look around. It was a small group. Diana, Luke’s mother, father, and two brothers, as well as the members of the BAU. Morgan was standing at Reid’s side. Prentiss, JJ, Garcia and Tara were sitting next to Walker and Rossi. There were a few people missing they wished were there, especially Spencer, but he wouldn’t let their absence keep him down - they wouldn’t want that. Other than everyone’s dates and children, that was the extent of their gathering, and it was perfect.

The officiant started up, saying a few words. “I am so glad to be here with all of you celebrating the love between Spencer Reid and Luke Alvez. Everyone they love is here, but like them, I’m sure you all want to get to dancing, drinking, and eating, so we’ll make this short.” It was true - they just wanted to be married already. It had been long enough.

After Luke said his vows, barely getting through them without tearing up, he slid the ‘I know’ wedding ring onto Spencer’s finger. And then it was his turn. Although it wasn’t a surprise to Luke that Spencer spoke Spanish, he was taken off guard when his native tongue fell so beautifully off Spencer’s lips.

“Luke, hoy te tomo por mi esposo. Te prometo amarte sin reservas, consolarte en tiempos de angustia, animarte a alcanzar todos tus objetivos, reírte contigo y llorar contigo, crecer contigo en mente y espíritu, ser siempre abierto y honesto contigo y Te acariciará mientras sigamos viviendo.”

Spencer finished. And when he looked up Luke was crying harder than before. He always thought he’d be the one to be crying incessantly. After he slipped the ring on Luke’s finger, the officiant pronounced them married. “You may now kiss your husband,” he said, looking between the two. As their lips met, their ears were infused with the whooping, hollering and clapping of their friends and family, as well as the river of tears coming from both mothers.

Finally, after all they’d been through - they were married. Forevermore, they would dedicate their lives, not only to others, but to each other.

****

The ceremony had gone off without a hitch. The reception was filled with well wishes, dancing and laughter. But now it was time just for them. In the months since they’d gotten engaged, Derek had renovated a house for them. They decided that the night they got married would be the first night they spent in that house.

“God, I love this,” Luke said, staring at the perfectly-shined hardwood floors of their new living area. “I have to thank Derek for the fiftieth time.”

Absolutely. Spencer made a mental note to call Derek in the morning and thank him again. He also had to get the book archway that Luke made for him because it was without a doubt going in their living room. “Me too...Ready to go upstairs?” he smirked. “Because I am.”

Luke bit down gently on his lip before pulling Spencer toward him and tangling his hand in his hair. He crashed their lips together, their tongues battling for space in each other’s mouths before he took his hand and ran him up the stairs. “Mine!” he laughed, pushing Spencer onto the bed.

Spencer fell back with a laugh, smiling into Luke’s neck as he crawled on top of him, but within seconds, a need took over them both that wiped the smile from their faces. “Need you,” Spencer breathed, pulling Luke’s suit jacket off of his broad shoulders. “Right now.”

“You have me,” he laughed. He kneeled up and pulled Spencer with him, tossing his suit jacket to the side as well. As he undid his buttons, he grazed his teeth against Spencer’s collarbone, sending a shiver through his husband’s spine. “Forever. You’re stuck with me.”

After divesting themselves of the rest of their shirts, Spencer grabbed Luke by the back of the neck and brought him down flush against him. While one hand grasped him against him, the other traveled down to just belong his belt line. Luke had a great ass. “That’s kind of the point,” Spencer laughed. “This ass is mine forever.”

Luke opened his mouth against Spencer’s neck and traveled downward, peppering his chest with kisses and he removed both of their pants. Before taking him, like he knew Spencer wanted, he had to tease him a little bit. Spencer made it so simple.

He heard him huff as Luke licked and sucked at the skin traveling down to his groin. That got him going in a matter of minutes on a normal basis, but tonight, Spencer was needy. “You tease,” he moaned. “You’re gonna get it when we go on vacation next week.”

“Counting on it,” he laughed, taking Spencer’s length in his hand and placing his lips over the tip. He reveled in the way he could get him hard in seconds. For a few moments, he swished his tongue over the length of him, but even he couldn’t take the teasing for that long - and he was the one doing it.

They’d gotten all they ever wanted and they needed each other desperately. Quickly, Luke moved back up the length of Spencer’s body and took his mouth in a passionate and all-consuming kiss that sent their souls on fire. Spencer could taste himself off his husband’s mouth - and the feeling was intoxicating. He had someone to love for the rest of his life.

Luke speedily reached over to their night stand drawer and grabbed the lube they’d need. After applying it to himself and Spencer, he placed himself at his entrance and gently pushed inside passed the tight ring of muscle. Both men groaned at the feeling, and within seconds they’d found their rhythm again.

While Luke moved inside him, Spencer reached between them to touch himself. A few strokes of his length was all he needed. He arched his head back for Luke as he kissed at the soft skin under his ear. “I love you,” he moaned from above.

Spencer squirmed slightly and ran his hand up Luke’s back and into his hair while Luke thrusted in and out of him at a pace that they’d perfected over their few years together. “I love you, too,” he breathed. Spencer’s muscles began to spasm and after another few thrusts, he cried out, exclaiming into Luke’s neck.

As Spencer came down from his high, Luke fell over the edge, taking his husband’s lips in a searing kiss that muffled his own cries. “Married sex is great sex,” he laughed, pulling out of Spencer and falling to his side.

His husband chuckled turning into him and biting down gently on his lower lip. “I’d have to say so,” he breathed heavily. “Here’s to great married sex for the rest of our lives, okay?”

“Sounds great to me.”

#otp: it's all good #spencer reid x luke alvez #spencer reid #luke alvez #reidvez #ralvez #dontshootmespence #forevermore

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