Langue d'amour: Actes de Service
Chapter title: Acts of Service
Summary: Sometimes Spencer just needs to be taken care of
Word count: 3k
Contains: Food, eating, bandages, mentions of post surgery incision, nudity, mentions of scars, crying, mentions of sex, showering together
"Alright okay, you got it?" I grip his waist tightly as I help him up the stairs. He keeps his neck as straight as possible to not jostle his bandages. We finally get to the door and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. He rubs my back gently, knowing how stressed I had been since he got shot. It had been my first time meeting his team and yet I was too wracked with worry to even properly introduce myself.
I unlock the door and step in, keeping a firm grasp on him. I kick one of my boxes out of his path as we walk to the bedroom.
"You do realize you can unpack those right? I asked you to move in. Usually means you can take your stuff out of the boxes," He smiles at me and I plaster on a fake one. I can tell by the way he frowns he knows but I'm too exhausted to care.
I help him into the bed and put the pillows behind his head so that he's comfortable.
"Is that good? Do you need more pillows? Oh, we should probably get some pyjamas on you!" I brush his hair out of his eyes and kiss his forehead. He grabs my wrist at pouts at me.
"You missed!" He pulls me closer and I laugh, gently pressing a kiss on his lips. I start to untie his tie and help him out of his clothes.
"You know, if you wanted to get me naked you just had to ask!" He teases and I scoff, shaking my head.
"Just be quiet and relax!" I pat his chest and grab some plaid pyjama pants and a loose shirt. I help him into them and check his bandages.
"Do you need anything? Hungry? Thirsty? We have to wait about 3 hours before you can change the bandages so you can shower before that?" I can't stop touching him for some reason and I press two of my fingers against his wrist, feeling his pulse beat underneath my fingers.
"I'm alright. Why don't you sit down for a minute? Been going crazy these past couple days," I can tell he's trying to ease my underlying panic that had been stirring since I got that horrid phone call.
I knew his job was dangerous. I knew he put his life on the line on a daily basis. He had told me so himself. But I had never dealt with it until now. I had seen the scars, I heard the stories. But never this.
"I'm serious princess come sit down," He's tugging on my wrist and it pulls me out of my stupor. I sit down gingerly and pat his thigh. He pulls me more and I give in, resting my head on his chest. I listen to the steady beat of his heartbeat and count it. He starts to stroke my hair and I can tell he wants me to sleep but it's the last thing on my mind.
We lay there for a while and when his hand stills and soft snores start to leave his mouth, I gently get up. I pull the blanket up to his chin and he smiles in his sleep. I step out of the room and slowly shut the door behind me. Even though he'd slept after surgery, he was exhausted. But he was also starving.
I head into the kitchen and starting digging around his fridge. He had started buying real groceries after I had told him I refused to date someone who only had condiments in their fridge. I settle on some chicken soup, humming to myself as I cook it.
I pour it into a bowl and grab a spoon. I head back into the bedroom, placing the bowl on the bedside table and gently stroking his hair to wake him up.
"Hey baby, gotta eat something and then you can go back to sleep okay?" I help him sit up a bit as he blinks away the exhaustion. He sniffs the air and turns his body to look for the smell.
"Where did you get soup?" He mumbles.
"I made it, sweetheart. Here let me feed you okay?" I grab a tissue out of the box and tuck it in the collar of his shirt. I scoop some soup and blow on it to cool it down. I hold the spoon up to his lips and he sips it.
"That's really good!" He smiles at me, seemingly revitalized and I smile.
I continue to feed him the soup and he happily drinks the whole thing. When he finishes the bowl, I take the tissue out of his shirt and dab at his mouth.
"You-you do realize my arms still work right?" He looks at me slightly amused and I bite my lip in embarrassment.
"Yes! I know that! It's just easier that I do it! Now come on, we should probably get you in the shower!" He whines at that but still gets up. We head into the bedroom and I help him out of his clothes. When I notice he's hard, I look up at him with a smirk. He's refusing to look at me but the tips of his ears are red. I decide against saying anything and just turn the shower on. I gingerly start to take his bandages off, grimacing when I see the incision. I feel tears start to burn in my eyes and he tilts my face towards him.
"Hey. It's alright. Please-please don't cry! I'm okay!" He rubs my shoulders and I nod. I try to blink back the tears but they fall instead. He tries to wipe them away, panicking.
"I-I wouldn't have got to say goodbye," I mumble and he pulls me close to him, pressing me against his bare chest.
"I know princess, I know," He rubs my back soothingly and I take a few deep breaths before pulling away. He kisses me on the forehead, albeit stiffly, and takes off his boxers. He steps into the shower and I hop onto the counter. For some reason, I'm terrified to leave him alone for too long.
The shower turns off and he steps out, dripping. Normally I would be all over him but now I just grab his towel and help him wrap it around his waist. I unroll the bandages and start to rewrap his neck. When I finish with that, I leave to grab him some clothes and once again help him into them.
"Can we hang out in the living room?" He asks me as if I have the power to say no.
"Course! Come on," I refuse to let go of him even though he doesn't need my help to walk.
When we get into the living room he sits down and pats his lap expectantly. I shake my head and sit next to him, tossing my legs over his lap. He pouts but I just smile and grab a book off the dining table.
"Read it to me?" He asks with a smile. I nod and flip open the book. I start to read to him and he runs his fingers up and down my bare calves. He draws gentle patterns across the skin, at one point writing out words in a language I don't understand.
We read for a couple of hours before he reminds me to eat. I nod and get up, kissing his forehead as I head into the kitchen. I hear him turn on the tv and start mumbling corrections about the documentary on fungi. As the rice cooks, I chop up the carrots and cabbage, taking the peas out of the freezer. I saute the vegetables in a little oil and as I'm cooking, Spencer comes into the kitchen to watch me.
"You know, you should really teach me how to cook," He remarks and I scoff.
"I would if you could accept the fact that cooking doesn't need measurements!" This gets me a string of sputters.
"You do need measurements! That is the cornerstone of cooking!" He's practically whining and I can't help but laugh at him. I turn back to the stove and turn it off. I scoop two bowls out and douse my bowl in soya sauce.
"...You are literally insane," He remarks with disgust and I glare at him.
"Oh whatever Mr. 8 cups of sugar!" I grab his hand and pull him over to the couch. I hover over him as he sits down, making sure he doesn't hurt himself. He unpauses the documentary and we watch while eating.
The rest of the days go by similarly. I spend all my time hovering over him while he assures me that he is perfectly capable of walking to the kitchen for some water. But today is his first day back at work and I'm busying myself with his lunch. When he mentioned off-handly that he usually skipped lunch, I had scolded him. He comes out fumbling with his tie just as I slide a salad into his bag.
"Is that a salad?" He pouts and I laugh, walking over to do his tie.
"Yes, because you need nutrients. And if you don't eat it I'll break up with you," I smile as I adjust the knot and he stares at me wide-eyed.
"You-you wouldn't do that!"
"Wanna bet?" I kiss him gently on the cheek and he swallows thickly.
"I'll eat the salad," He mumbles. I pat his chest and hand him his bag. He kisses me at the door and I can't help but grab his tie and pull him close. He leans into it and soon has me pressed against the wall.
"What-what was that for?" He's breathing slightly heavier and I can see some lust in his eyes.
"Just-just be safe yeah?" I smile weakly and he nods. He kisses my forehead and heads out, casting me a longing look before the door closes.
I lean my back against the door as I scan the apartment. My boxes lay haphazardly around and I noticed Spencer wasn't the biggest fan of that. I figure now would be as good of a time as any to start unpacking. I roll my sleeves up and grab the first box.
The boxes only ending up taking me a couple of hours. I've just sat down on the couch when I get a text from Spencer, telling me he'll be home in an hour. I feel an urge to do something for him and walk around as I think. When my eyes land on the little box that I keep my recipes in, I smile. I open it and sift through the cards before settling on a two-bite brownie recipe.
I bound into the kitchen and start taking everything I need out. The apartment fills with the smell of chocolate as I place the pan in the oven. The sink is screaming my name and I slide on some gloves and tackle it. Once I've placed everything on the drying rack, I wipe down the counter, cleaning up the spilled flour and cocoa powder.
By that point, the oven beeps and I take the brownies out. I place the pan on the counter and I hear the lock click and the door swings open.
"Do I smell brownies?" I hear him hurrying into the kitchen and when he spots the tray he lights up. He practically tackles me in a hug and lifts me off the floor, spinning.
"Oh! Wow, I should make brownies more often!"
"You should! I love your brownies! Can I eat one? Please tell me I can eat one!"
"Two minutes babe! Just let them cool so you don't burn your mouth!" He kisses me gently after setting me down and heads into the bedroom to change his clothes. When he comes out, he's got a slightly surprised look on his face but says nothing as I take the brownies out of the pan. I place them on a plate but hold one up to Spencer's mouth. He opens his mouth wide and takes the whole thing in.
He grins at me as he chews it, nodding.
"God those might be better than sex!" He grabs another and pops it into his mouth.
"I-I don't know if that's a compliment on my baking skills or an insult to my sex skills?"
"No! You-you're great! At-um-at sex! And baking! You're just perfect at everything!"
His face has an adorable grimace on it and I laugh.
"And on that note, I am going to go and finish up this paperwork okay? Shouldn't take too long but if it gets late just go to bed without me okay?" He gently kisses me and grabs his bag, heading off into his office. I still have a couple hours before I need to get ready for bed so I grab one of the books Spencer annotated and lay down on the couch.
I spend an hour meticulously combing through the little cursive notes in the margins before my stomach starts grumbling. I head over to the kitchen and decide to fry some samosa's I had frozen a few days ago. I heat them up in a pan and separate them into two plates. Knowing Spencer, he hasn't eaten in a while so I make sure to put extra on his plate.
I gently knock on the office door and when I hear a soft word of affirmation, I step in. Wordlessly, I place the plate next to his papers. I brush his hair away from his face and place a soft kiss on his forehead. I close the door behind me and head back to the kitchen to grab my dinner.
Turning on the shower, I peel off my clothes and step in. I let the warming water run down my body and soak my hair. I've just soaked my loofah when the door of the bathroom opens and I feel Spencer's body slide in behind me.
He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder as I pour body wash onto the sponge. He kisses my shoulder and unwraps, taking the loofah from me.
"You're so perfect," He mumbles as he drags the suds over my back, moving my hair out of the way to press a kiss at the back of my neck. I hum in response and close my eyes, relishing in the feeling of his hands all over me. Not even in a sexual way, just touching me and holding me.
When he finishes with the soap, he drags his hands over my body to help wash the soap off. He gently kisses me and I grab the soap and lather it over my hands. He watches me as I start to lather it over his body, pressing soft kisses on the skin.
When all the soap has been rinsed, and my hair has been washed with Spencer's help, I tap him to bend down. We're both silent as I scrub his scalp. I think he could tell how much I needed to do this for him. I repeat my motions with the conditioner. Soon enough, we're turning the shower off and stepping out. We dry off but I stop Spencer before he can leave.
"Sit," I tell him as I turn to rummage through the cupboard as I locate what I'm searching for. When I turn to him with a bottle of sea salt spray for curly hair, he smiles softly. I say nothing as I stand in between his legs and spray it into his curls. I run my hands through his damps hair and gently untangle it. When I gesture for him to stand, he presses me against the counter.
"You're so good at this,"
"At...this!" He gestures in between us and I look at him confused.
"At taking care of me? I don't-don't know how to describe it. I-no one's ever really taken care of me like this. I just appreciate you so much and you're so understanding and kind and caring and I just...I don't know what I did to deserve you? You...you mean the world to me,"
I stare at him, wide-eyed as I desperately attempt to make sense of his words. I wrap my arms around his torso and pull him into a bone-crushing hug. He allows me this and reciprocates, gently kissing my head. When I pull away, I'm playing with my fingers nervously.
"I know. Don't gotta say anything," He mumbles softly and kisses me before heading into the bedroom. I had already laid out clothes for him, knowing he would end up joining me in the shower. He smiles as we both get dressed and climb into our respective sides of the bed.
We're facing each other and I scoot over to get as close as possible to him. He slings an arm over my waist and smiles at me tiredly.
"Go to sleep, Spence," I tuck myself into his chest and he sighs happily. When I hear his soft snores, I smile to myself and go to sleep.
Entry 4- October 9, 2021
Acts of Service
Spence just left for a case and I was thinking about what to do for this before realizing I had already done it? Why have I never thought about my giving love language like this? Anyways, him getting shot was monumentally terrifying 0/10 do not recommend. He seemed to really love being taken care of (past? abandonment issues? bring up later-gently) He clearly was a little confused as to why. Apparently, I did not have a reason. God, I love him so much. Really is perfect. Was very appreciative of everything. Just needs to be shown love. Sometimes gently but maybe loudly too? Question for another time. I can't wait to marry this man.
Permanent taglist: @spencerreid9 @life-imitate-s-art @reidyoulikeabook @meganskane @drreidsboyband @maxcerr @g0lden-cth @random-human-person @fics4arainyday @sunkissglow @idonotexiste @queenofthepouges @luvofyourlifeliv @gspenc @reidreids @kuolonsyoja @mochionly @xoxomgg @iifloweringnightsii @wheelsup @muffin-cup @coldlilheart @reid-me-a-story @centiaaa @lumosemily @reidsacademia
Series taglist: @incredibly-ludacris @haylaansmi @blurryreid @thebadassbitchqueen @muffin-cup @coldlilheart @reid-me-a-story @lumosemily @reidsacademia @meganskane @luvofyourlifeliv @idonotexiste @wheelsup
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“Oh, you guys are gay, that’s great. But uh, which one of you is *pretends to get strapped into a chair, mimes holding a gun to the head,* and which one of you is *looks increasingly upset, paces around, punches door and walks away*?”
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imagining my comfort character and me cooking dinner at a small apartment while music plays in the background and when the music changes they pull me in for a dance DOESN'T COUNT AS THERAPY????
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Angel Spencer Reid
Demon Aaron Hotchner
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Hi! Hope you’re having a great day! Could you please add me to your tag list? @tvandfanfic
Hello! I am! Currently out with a friend I haven’t seen in a couple years. I will happily add you to my taglist! 😊😊😊
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Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Characters: Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid
Additional Tags: Drug Addiction, Relapsing, Biblical Scripture References (Abrahamic Religions), Repression, Childhood Trauma, they're kinda fucked up you've seen the show
Series: Part 9 of through space and time
A late night text. A rush of dread. A relapse.
Spencer shouldn't be alone right now.
Emily in 15x03 Spectator Slowing
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One of Reid’s children has the vibe of being dropkicked as a baby. I don’t know.
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from the ground up // s.r.
summary / you and spencer just moved into your brand new house, and you figure this is the perfect time to tell spencer the news that you're expecting. coincidentally, spencer already had a different surprise planned.
pairing / spencer reid x bau!fem!reader
warnings / pregnancy, mentions of food, cohabitation, engagement/proposal, brief mention of Spencer being autistic. other than that it's just really sticky sweet fluff. :)
author's note / i'm feeling really bummed today for no apparent reason, so i figured some dad!spencer fluff was in order. the title is from the song "from the ground up" by dan & shay. ps: my tag list is open! please join my taglist using the link in my nav. <3
You placed the final box onto the floor, looking over at Spencer with a happy smile gracing your features. He took the lapse in the labor of carrying in boxes to sit next to you on the floor. With his own grin, he pulled you into his side, planting a kiss on the top of your head.
"Sorry I'm sweaty and gross," you laughed, acknowledging how exhausting it had been to carry furniture and bulky belongings since early that morning.
Spencer chuckled, tossing his wavy, brunette hair out of his face. He looked at you for a moment like perhaps you had hung the moon. He did this often, simply taking in how beautiful you were and half-pinching himself that he was so lucky.
"Love, are we just not going to talk about the fact that I did most of the carrying? I damn near broke my back carrying that side table on my own."
You raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out if this would be the right time to tell Spencer why exactly you had declined to carry anything heavy that day.
Your doctor had told you to be careful during the move. You were just through your first trimester, after all. It was still early enough that no one would know you were showing, and at this stage of pregnancy, things were still touch-and-go. You didn't want to risk losing the pregnancy, so you'd come up with the excuse of your ankle hurting to avoid doing any strenuous activity.
You took a deep breath before beginning to speak. The joy and hope in your voice were evident as you quipped back to Spencer with the news.
"Well, the doctor told me not to lift anything too heavy...because of the baby."
Spencer stopped for a moment, his mouth falling open akin to a fish. "The...what?"
You took Spencer's hands into your own, which were warm and slightly shaking. You pressed them to your abdomen. Spencer felt the vinyl lettering of your Federal Bureau of Investigations tee-shirt beneath his fingertips.
Spencer had fallen in love with you fast and innocently. It started when you'd helped him with his fitness test, and he helped you with the applications for your doctorate. You'd become a part of the BAU family in no time, but a part of you clung closest to the boy wonder himself.
As your relationship progressed, you realized you had more in common with Spencer than you had differences. You bonded over your love of Russian literature, Doctor Who, and sweets. You accepted him fully for who he was, so much as carrying fidgets in your go-bag, just in case Spencer needed them on the jet.
He felt the tears brimming his eyes as the realization hit him that you were carrying his child.
Spencer looked up and cupped your face in your hands. You giggled loudly as he pulled you into a deep kiss. You could feel his elated tears on your own cheeks, which caused you to tear up, too.
He pressed his forehead to yours. You reached up and cupped your hands around his large ones that were still holding your face affectionately.
"So you're happy Spencer? Really...truly happy?"
Spencer nodded, pulling you into another small set of peckish kisses. You laughed again, letting him pull away from you.
You watched as he rearranged himself, getting onto one knee. You looked stunned, trying to figure out what was happening. By the time your brain caught up, it had dawned on you that Spencer was pulling a small ring box from his pocket.
"We've both b-been keeping something a secret, I guess, y/n," He smiled, opening the box slowly.
The ring was absolutely stunning, sitting among the black velvet lining of the box. It was a simple - yet clearly expensive - diamond set upon white gold. It was timeless and felt like a beautiful representation of Spencer's love for you.
"I love you...more than I thought it was possible to love anyone. Will you...marry me, y/n?"
"Spencer...," the tears were falling down your faster than you could stop them. You took a shaky breath and stuck your hand out, nodding frantically.
"Of course, of course, I'll marry you!"
You both laughed with relief as Spencer slid the ring onto your finger. He pulled you by your hips into him, letting your lips crash together. You took a moment to relish in the kiss, feeling your lips move against Spencer's soft plush ones.
Just then the door swung open, revealing Rossi, who was carrying a large dish in his hands. Behind him stood the rest of the team, awkwardly illuminated in the light of the doorway.
You wiped your tears away as both you and Spencer stood up.
"Interrupting something? I brought my famous chicken parmesan," Rossi said, lifting the dish up to show you both.
"We wanted to come celebrate your new place!," Penelope gleamed, holding up two bottles of red wine.
"We both have news. But, come on in. It's a lot. I won't be able to have any of that wine, Penny," you grinned, walking over to take the dish from Dave.
Penelope's mouth fell agape as she watched you place a hand on your tummy. She let out an excited squeal, eliciting a loud laugh from Spencer.
"Come on, come on, we have the dining room set up already...,"
criminal minds taglist / @hufflepuffhaze @ssavanessa22 @omghufflepuff @txtdreamss @awritingtree @sweetandsunny
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emily prentiss did not go to Yale, learn seven languages, join an undercover task force specializing in terrorism, become unit chief of the behavioral analysis unit, and get offered the director of the fbi job for people to write her off as not intelligent. queen isn't dumb.
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Fisher King, part 2, promo pictures.
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The Bad Influence’s Birthday (Spencer Reid x Masc!Reader)
Summary: After hearing some unsavoury rumours about his darling daughter, Spencer decides to do something about it.
AN: Happy Father’s Day tomorrow! This can be read as a continuation of Seahorse (SFW version) (NSFT version) or as a oneshot. The reader uses he/him pronouns.
A wave of rapture swept through the children as Spencer began pulling out the handkerchiefs from behind Savannah’s ear. Savannah gasped dramatically and Hank in her lap flapped his hands to grab at the knotted fabric, managing to touch the last sunny yellow one. His face when Spencer handed it back to him, it was swiftly captured on Penelope’s phone as was Hank stuffing the handkerchief between his gums.
“Thank you for your participation!”
Katia was on her feet and clapping wildly as she trotted over to her dad.
Her arms slipped under his cloak to hug his waist, her cheek creased with a grin pressed into his belly.
“Thank you Daddy! Thank you thank you thank you!” She squealed, trying to bounce whilst keeping her grip tight on Spencer.
More kids swarmed on him to say thanks, but just in time, his husband spoke up:
“Why don’t you kids grab a few more bounces on the castle while we prepare your lunch!”
A sudden stampede of trainers and once crisply ironed party outfits rushed past Y/N. His arms shot up perpendicular to his body, above the children’s rushing heads.
Y/N sauntered over to Spencer, snatching off his pointy wizard hat and tousling his hair. His fingers stayed there a while longer. Just long enough for Y/N to get a grip on it and pull Spencer over for a kiss.
“Nice job, honey.”
Spencer beamed, adjusting his wizard’s cloak, “Glad you thought so.”
The couple sauntered over to their house’s edge, a table set up with jugs of juice for the children adjacent to the open French windows. That didn’t stop Spencer from taking one for himself.
He spared some glances at the other parents around. “Is she here?”
“Hmm?” Y/N raised his eyebrows, his eyes wide with confusion. Then his expression cleared, “Oh, yes. To your right.”
Not so subtle was his look in that direction as he took a sip from a disposable plastic cup. “There’s three of them.”
Y/N pretended to examine the rainbow stars around the rim of Spencer’s drink, “She’s the one in the navy-blue shirt.”
Ah yes. Melinda.
Before Y/N could intervene – or join him – Spencer strode across the lawn, his juice forgotten. He landed next to this woman without a smile.
“Hi, can I get you anything else to drink?”
“No, I’m fine thank you,” She replied, her folded arms constricting around her front. “It’s a wonderful party.”
Spencer’s tone was just as forced as hers, “Thank you. Pulling out the stops, she’s only going to turn seven once.”
His attention followed Melinda’s eyeline to the bouncy castle. Katia wasn’t hard to miss. Her bright turquoise and purple frock blurred as she threw herself herself back and forth between the walls and shrieked with laughter above all the other children.
“And Lukas is enjoying himself too, it seems,” Spencer indicated to Melinda’s child who was following by Katia’s example.
Just then, the man Melinda had arrived with rocked up beside him with a heavy clap on the shoulder. “Katie has quite a hold on our lad!”
Spencer’s shoulder rolled out of his grip, “They are best friends. Katia talks about him a lot; she was so excited when you confirmed yesterday. We’ll have to set up a play date-”
“Oh Lukas! Come off of there, sweetie!” Melinda looked despairingly at Spencer, “Can you get your husband to stop that?”
It was then that Spencer took in what Y/N was doing in the middle of the bouncy castle. Surrounded by children, he seat-dropped right beside them, launching them up into the air only to land on their backs. Cries of “again, again!” demanded to be satisfied and Y/N was working hard to keep them happy. Spencer smiled fondly at them.
“It’s alright, he knows what he’s doing. And we have crash mats.” He pointed to where all the shoes were scattered in haste of adrenaline. “It’s nearly time for the birthday banquet anyway.”
His pointy cap was donned once more as he headed off to attend to his birthday duties.
Y/N whipped off the star sprinkled sheet off the table and the children applauded at the sight of food, scrambling to get a seat near the birthday girl. The seats beside her throne (curtesy of Uncle Dave) were already promised Lucas and her other best friend Dominque.
While the kids were feasting, Spencer saw Derek taking the opportunity to bounce Hank on the very edge of the bouncy castle. The little man’s legs kicked and jerked above the inflated vinyl as he squealed in his dad’s safe grip.
Each plate was filled with only the finest of party foods. Sweets and treats were permitted before the sandwiches in this topsy turvy feast, with carrots dipped in hummus eaten between salted crisps. Katia’s mismatched socks sitting in odd sneakers swung back and forth as she crunched down. A few times, she forgot to swallow her food before shouting across the table to her guests. Ah well. It was her birthday. Spencer was too busy passing bowls to kids who couldn’t reach their favourite foods.
Y/N pinched Katia’s cheek and offered Lukas a napkin before grabbing one of the platters to offer to the parents. Coincidently Melinda declined while her partner took two.
“You were bouncing the kids on the castle deliberately, weren’t you?” Spencer whispered to Y/N as they topped up the drink jugs.
“I have no idea what you’re on about.”
The smirk on their lips said otherwise.
Penelope was the one to bring out the cake, the frosting’s colours matching Katia’s dress – which was actually Penelope’s birthday gift. She leapt into song the second she stepped outside and demanded a reprise for more photos to be taken of her goddaughter blowing out the candles from Spencer’s lap. It took two big puffs and Spencer pretending to smash her face into it before the candles were simply smoking.
“Daddy, do you want some cake?” Katia held up a forkful to his nose.
“Yes please,” and Spencer opened his mouth wide, “Ahhh!”
Somehow, Katia still missed. Crumbs and icing smeared in the corners of his mouth and caught in his stubble. Spencer cringed a little at the mess, but it faded at the uproar of laughter from his baby.
“Thank you, Katia,” He said slowly, accepting the napkin she offered him as an apology.
Katia then shared a dab of icing with Hank, Savannah saying a delighted thank you on her son’s behalf while Hank himself beamed at the sugar rush. It was over this interaction that Spencer caught sight of Melinda and her man. They were acting as though they hadn’t been staring at him and his bad influence. Without a second thought to them, he kissed Katia on the cheek then he caught Y/N on the arm as they were handing out cake. He kissed his cheek too. Katia smeared some cake down Y/N’s sleeve with chocolate blocking out some of the teeth that weren’t already missing.
God only knows how he was going to top Katia’s next birthday party.
Spencer Reid Tag List: @averyhotchner and @spenxerslut
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Prompt: Spencer can’t let go of the past. Y/N can’t pretend this isn’t hurting her anymore.
Based on the song “Another love” by Tom Odell for #willsannievent.
Warnings: Major angst, break up, sad!Spencer, mentions of death, mentions of depression, mentions of self-hate.
Check my masterlist here.
*DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED SEASON 8 OF CRIMINAL MINDS! THERE IS A MAJOR SPOILER IN THIS STORY.*
And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright
I’m just so tired to share my nights
I wanna cry and I wanna love
But all my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fight
But my hand’s been broken, one too many times
So I’ll use my voice, I’ll be so fucking rude
Words they always win, but I know I’ll lose
It’s been said that you really only fall in love with three people in your lifetime, but it’s also believed that you need each of these loves for a different reason but they are all equally as important as the other because they shape you, they turn you into the person you’ll be for the rest of your life.
Spencer doesn’t agree with that.
There’s the first love, a love that looks right, a love usually called “Fairytale love”.
This is the love you watch on movie screens, in TV shows, in bedtime stories where the prince and the princess have their “happily ever after” ending. It’s the love you wish you had, a love that you assume it’s easy to find. It’s the starry-eyed love that happens when you’re young, probably in High School when you’re surrounded by all of these people and finally one of them catches your attention.
It’s a love that doesn’t feel quite right but you get into it because you think it’s the most important thing in the world at the moment. It’s a love you jump right in because you want to know how love feels, because you’re overwhelmed by emotions and feelings and everything that comes with them. It’s probably a love that appeals to what you should be doing in the eyes of society, of your family, that you accept just because you think it’s okay to do it. But you know it’s not the love you want.
Spencer remembers when he experienced his first love. It happened in High School, when he met this beautiful girl with the cutest smile he has ever seen and the sweetest voice he could ever hear. He thought she was the one for him, because she was the only one that talked to him without making fun of him – or so he thought, because he ended up completely naked and tied to a chair in front of everyone at school. It was something unexpected, something that hurt him, something that pushed him to believe love wasn’t and was never going to be for him.
The second love, also called the “Hard love”, is the kind of love that hurts.
It’s the love that brings you to your breaking point over and over and eventually pushes you on your knees, sobbing and wondering where it all went wrong, or if it was ever right.
It’s a love that suffocates you, a love that destroys your heart in ways you’ve never expected love to do. With this kind of love, you think about fixing it without reflecting on whether you should. It’s a love that, through all the pain and the trauma, teaches you a lesson about who you are as a person, but mostly teaches you what you should look for in a relationship and what you don’t want in your life.
But it’s an emotional roller coaster made of extreme highs and lows, and like a drug addict trying to get a fix, you stick through the loops of this love with the low expectation and hope for one single high. It’s a love that you wished was right and when it doesn’t work out, you feel defeated but you know it was for the best.
Spencer clearly remembers this kind of love, when he had the chance to be with a person but then other obstacles came up, ruining everything. He fell in love with a woman through the phone, a woman he has never seen before and a woman who kind-of betrayed him, a woman that lied to him, a woman that sent shivers down his spine when she called him. A woman that stole his heart and crushed it onto the ground when she did right in front of his eyes, after he wasn’t able to tell he loved her to the moon and back.
This love was traumatic, it was difficult but he couldn’t fix it even if he tried. But when he tried, he ruined everything and she ended up in a pool of her own blood in front of his eyes. It’s a love that drilled a hole in his heart, a love that suffocated him because it never blossomed the way he desperately wanted to. But, despite everything people said about the second love, “the hard love”, Spencer knew it would’ve worked out if obstacles didn’t come up. If Maeve allowed him to help her through everything, if Maeve would’ve just told him the truth.
Then there’s the third love, the “love that lasts”.
It’s a love you never see coming, a love that usually looks all wrong for us and that destroys every lingering ideals you clung to about what love is supposed to be.
It’s the love that comes so easy it doesn’t feel possible because it’s a connection that cannot be explained and knocks you off your feet because you never planned for it.
It’s a love Spencer doesn’t believe in, a love he doesn’t think would come for him because his mind is still focused on a love that should’ve been, a love that should’ve happened for him.
It’s a love that sweeps you off your feet, sure; this is the only thing that happened to him, when he met her for the first time. But it’s all because of her bubbly personality, the sweetest smile he has ever seen after that girl in High School, the cutest pair of eyes that he settled his own on. Spencer still gives it a go with her, hoping that maybe she will be his new fix and helps him forget the love he so dearly wanted before.
But Y/N is nothing like Maeve.
She’s smart, she’s beautiful, she’s sweet, she’s kind. There’s nothing wrong with Y/N because she’s an amazing person with an even better personality. She’s herself. But she’s not Maeve.
Spencer had told Y/N about Maeve.
One night he was so overwhelmed with the memories and upset because it was Maeve’s anniversary. Y/N found him on his couch, wrapped in his favourite blanket, and asked what was wrong with him – and he broke down completely, telling her everything that happened to his ex lover. He cried, he almost pushed Y/N away but she was so understanding, so gentle with him and didn’t make him uncomfortable. He felt like shit for pretending to love her when his heart belonged to someone else, to the woman he was crying about, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Y/N the truth. He hoped she would’ve seen it in his eyes because she’s a profiler and she should be able to read people’s body language, but she couldn’t. Or she wouldn’t.
Maybe Y/N didn’t want to admit the truth to herself, maybe she was naive, maybe Spencer was being her hard love and she simply can’t pull away from him because she’s doing everything in her power to keep him by her side even though she knows he’s not right for her – just like Maeve was his second love, even though she ended up also being his third and everlasting one. Spencer feels like she is.
Even though she died years before, and she left a hole in his heart, he can’t move on.
Y/N is just... someone to Spencer, nothing more than that.
And he hates this because she doesn’t deserve to be treated like this, she doesn’t deserve to be with someone who doesn’t love her the way she should be loved because Y/N is just so amazing, she’s so perfect in every single way. She doesn’t deserve to be with someone who sees her just as “someone” there for him and not as the person they’re in love with, but Spencer is tired of pretending he wants her.
Spencer is stuck in the past, a past that is slowly breaking him in little pieces Y/N can’t put together – or so he thinks. He doesn’t want her to put him back together, he wants to be left alone but he doesn’t want Y/N any longer. He doesn’t want to make her feel like he’s feeling, he doesn’t want her to go through what he’s going through with his ideal love with Maeve.
«Hi love! Happy anniversary!»
Y/N’s angelic voice captures his attention, forcing the young doctor to turn around and watch her as she makes her way inside of his apartment. He forgot she was coming over, he forgot today is their first anniversary and he even forgot to buy her something – but why would he buy her a flower if he doesn’t want to be with her? If he can’t be with her?
Y/N takes off her denim jacket, leaving it on the chair next to the entrance. «I’m sorry I’m late, there was traffic and I think a car accident not too far from here. But I stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts to buy you these!»
Spencer shrugs, lowering his eyes as he crosses his arms to his chest. «It’s okay.»
She holds out a box filled with chocolate doughnuts covered with sprinkles, his favourites. «They were the last three and they’re all yours.»
He wants to smile. He really wants to because she’s doing all of this to make him happy, to show him how much she loves him but he can’t bring himself to lift the angles of his lips. It’s too much, it’s suffocating and he can’t take this anymore. He can’t pretend this is okay, he can’t pretend to love her any longer. It makes his heart hurt.
Y/N walks towards him after placing the doughnuts on the table in front of his TV and grabs both his hands, leaning forward to give him a kiss on the lips but he pulls away before she can do it. He also winces at her touch, as if she just burned him with her hands. She takes a step back, suddenly an icy cold wave of air washes over her.
«Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?»
Spencer runs his fingers through his hair, stepping away from her and shaking his head with his eyes low on the floor. His heart hurts from doing what he’s about to and all he wants to do is to kiss her, to make her feel alright because she doesn’t deserve any of this. Y/N didn’t do anything wrong. She’s just the most perfect human being that has ever graced this Earth, the most amazing person he found after all these years that he just can’t love – even though he knows he should, because she’s made for him and has made him feel like he could be loved again.
Spencer wants to cry, the frustration hitting him hard on the chest and almost leaving him breathless. There are so many reasons why he shouldn’t break up with her and there’s only one reason that wants him to do so: she’s not Maeve. Spencer is so haunted by the shadow of his second love, of the love that should have been, that he’s blind to everything else.
When he kissed Y/N, he clearly remembers he felt something – which is why they started dating not too long after. Spencer wants to love Y/N so bad because she proved to him that he’s able to feel something after what he’s been through, because she proved to him his heart is still made of love and blood, and not stone cold ice. But he can’t, he just can’t.
Hurting her is the last thing he wants to do. He wants to punch himself in the face for thinking about breaking up with her, therefore breaking her heart and upsetting her, but he can’t keep on pretending. He’s still hung up on another love.
Another love that has captured his heart.
Another love that shattered his heart.
Another love that should have been.
So he’ll use his voice, he’ll be so fucking rude so at least she’ll have a reason to hate him for good.
«I can’t keep doing this to you, Y/N.»
She stares at him, her eyes wandering around the room until they settle on the book on his couch. And her heart drops because she knows what’s coming, she knows what this is all about and there’s nothing she can do to stop her tears from falling. That book, The narrative of John Smith, haunted her for months but she thought she didn’t have to worry about it. She thought it was nice to have a memory of a love that existed, but maybe she shouldn’t have.
Spencer can’t bring himself to look at her because he knows what he’s going to see. He knows how her voice changes when she’s sad, when she’s getting her heart broken because it cracks. Her voice drops lower than usual, just like right now, and he hates it. He hates how it sounds right now, because it’s all his fault.
He should’ve been honest with her, he shouldn’t have jumped into a relationship he wasn’t ready for – or maybe he was ready, but he changed his mind when he realised how deep and strong her love for him ran. It’s probably stronger than what Maeve felt for him, deeper than he thought he’d deserve. It’s a real love, a love she thought was everlasting also on his part but she was wrong. So fucking wrong, it almost pains Spencer to think about.
«Say it, Spencer.»
When his eyes settle on her face, his heart gets ripped out of his chest.
Y/N is staring at him with a coldness he has never witnessed before, she’s patiently waiting for him to break her heart in the worst way. But her body is screaming a whole different story because her hands are shaking, she’s not breathing right and she’s holding back. And suddenly his voice is gone, his words get stuck in his throat and a voice in his head yells at him to keep his mouth shut, to stay quiet because this is all wrong. This shouldn’t happen, he can’t let this happen.
«You want to break up with me, don’t you?»
Spencer breaks the eye contact with a frustrated sigh, massaging his temples with the tip of his fingers. This is all so confusing, this is all so terrifying for him and she knows it – which is why she’s waiting, hoping that those words won’t come out of his mouth but she knows very well they will, eventually. And she’s not ready to hear them, she’s not ready to get her heart broken in the blink of an eye.
Y/N doesn’t move, her eyes following his every move. «You can’t even look at me in the face. Am I that unimportant?»
She wants to punch him, she wants to pull his hair, she wants to scream at him, she wants to cry, she wants to throw all of those doughnuts on his face and rip all the pages from his new books, but she can’t do it unless he says something. And he has to, or she’ll hold on to that little flicker of hope still lingering in the air.
«Am I so insignificant?»
Spencer shakes his head, nervously tapping his fingers on his thigh. «You’re not insignificant.»
Y/N looks up, brushing the back of her right hand over her cheek. «Come on, then. Be a decent human being and tell me the truth, I don’t have all day.»
«I can’t love you.»
She scoffs, grabbing her jacket from the chair.
Anger is running through her veins and she knows she should hold back, but how can you blame her? He’s dumping her on the day of their anniversary, after pretending to love her for a whole year without feeling bad for it, without realising how dangerous, how painful, how sickening this is.
«“It’s not you, it’s me”, right? “I can’t love you because I still love my ex girlfriend even though you’ve proven to me I can be loved and I deserve to be loved. I can’t love you because I don’t want to move on from my past, even though I told you I’m okay and I want to be with you.” Is that what you want to say but you can’t bring yourself to?»
He snaps his head towards her, his heart dropping in his chest. «Y/N...»
She lifts both her hands, looking at him with pure coldness and anger. «Don’t you dare play the victim now because it’s pointless. It took you a whole year to figure out you don’t want to be with me, do you understand how miserable that makes me feel? A whole fucking year. And before that, eight months. We’ve dated for eight long months before you asked me to officially be your girlfriend. Eight months! And in all this time you’ve never... You...»
Spencer knows she’s breaking down and holding back something she knows she can’t say out loud, but he can’t deny that she’s right in everything she’s spilling out. He had twenty months to figure this out, twenty months that led her to fall deeper in love with him and he just didn’t care because he thought he could be with her.
He thought she could make him happy and she does! He has never felt this happy before in his life, she gave him a purpose in life and she kept him going, she has made him the happiest man alive from all the attentions, the kisses, the late night conversations, the gifts, the silences, the cuddles, the incredible and strong love he was waiting and knew he could receiving by her and only her.
What has changed now? What made him realise he doesn’t feel anything for her?
But he feels something for her.
Pity, because she fell for a man that can never be hers.
She fell for a man that is still haunted by the ghosts of the past, by the shadow of a love that should have been, a love that keeps crushing his heart even though Y/N tried to keep alive with her own heart, her own love, her affection, her own connection with him.
Spencer looks at her, tears in his eyes and pain in his heart as Y/N stares at him in horror. Her eyes are wide open, her lips are slightly parted and her cheeks are stained with tears, her mascara running down as her heart feels heavier than ever before. The realisation of what he’s not saying lingers in the air, choking her; ripping her heart out of her chest and driving a stake through it, making it bleed.
«You’ve never loved me.»
Spencer shakes his head frantically. «No! No, I do. I love you, I really do.»
Y/N sniffles, turning her head away for a second.
She doesn’t believe him at all but she chooses to, not caring if this is a lie or not.
his is too much for her and right now all she cares about, well all she wanted to do that day, was celebrating their love with him, by kissing him, by watching a movie, by cooking something.
«You don’t love me, there’s no need to lie. – mutters the young woman, trying to keep her posture and not break down again – Your ex girlfriend is dead, Spencer. She’s gone, she won’t come back to you. She loves you from afar but she’s not here and I am! I’m giving you everything and it’s not enough for you because I’ll never be her! I will never be Maeve, Spencer. I’m me, I’m Y/N Y/S/N.»
He knows Maeve will never come back. He knows she’s gone and he’s okay with it. Sometimes he misses her, but he has Y/N.
Why does it have to be so confusing?
Why can’t he simply think about the woman right in front of him, crying because he’s killing her?
«You have two choices: the first, which is to love me for who I am, or the second, to leave me for a ghost And I think you’ve made your choice pretty clear, Spencer. – says Y/N, putting her jacket back on – I will never lose a fight with a sanctified ghost.»
He stares at her, brushing the back of his hand over his cheek. «I’m so sorry, Y/N. You’ve been nothing but amazing to me. You gave me time, you gave me space, you gave me everything you could and I’m just hurting you. I wish this could be different, I wish....»
She holds out a hand, stopping him before he could say something else. «Don’t say things you know are not true. You love her, I can’t compete with your everlasting love. I can’t even if I tried. And I tried so hard to make this work, because you deserve to be happy.»
«But you deserve someone better than me.»
Y/N bites her bottom lip, taking a step back before he could come closer. «Maeve would’ve wanted you to be happy, not wasting your time mooning over her ghost. I’m being harsh and I hate it, but I can’t just pretend this is not hurting me because it is. It’s killing me and I don’t know what I did to deserve this.»
Spencer sighs loudly, placing a hand over his heart. «You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N. You’ve been amazing.»
«Yeah, that’s what hurts the most. I’ve done everything for you and what have I got in return?»
He finishes the sentence for her. «Lies.»
There’s a pause after that.
He wasn’t lying when he told her he liked her after that dinner in her own car after a case he finished working on.
He wasn’t lying when he kissed her on the lips for the first time and whispered he wanted to be with her.
He wasn’t lying when he told her that everything was better since he met her.
He wasn’t lying when he promised her they would find a little cottage somewhere and spend their holidays there, with no one around but themselves.
«The only lie I told you was that I loved you.»
Spencer wants to smack himself in the face after saying those words.
He just admitted he never loved her in the first place, something he denied a few seconds before, and he can literally see Y/N’s heart break even more. Why is he doing this to her? Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut today? He’s ruining everything.
Y/N scoffs again, a bitter laugh leaving her lips. «Just a pretty little lie. Nothing major, right?»
He frowns at her words, the sarcasm burning in her throat, but he completely understands why she’s angry. She has every right to be angry at him, he deserves to be yelled at because he’s being almost selfish.
«You shouldn’t have started dating me if you weren’t emotionally over her, Spencer. You can either wallow in your memories of her or live a life with me. You said you dealt with her loss years ago, that you went to a therapist and you worked through your grief but this... – says Y/N, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear – This proves nothing helped you, this proves I didn’t help you enough and I can’t do it if you lie to me, but I also can’t be your saviour. I’ve listened to you, I’ve comforted you during her anniversary five months ago and you never had the decency to tell me the truth once, in 365 days of our relationship. And you don’t even love me.»
Spencer wants to tell her that one day he will, eventually he will fall in love with her but now he can’t because all of the tears, all of his hopes and dreams are wasted on another love. Y/N won’t understand this now because she feels betrayed, because she has got her heart broken today and it’s all his fault.
«You said you were ready for a relationship but she’s still the centre of your thoughts. And I should be that person, I should be the one you want to love. – adds Y/N, closing the jacket on her chest – You should get therapy to understand your inability to grieve and move on with your life, because Maeve wouldn’t have wanted you to do all of this. She wouldn’t have wanted you to throw a whole year of relationship because of her. You always talk about her like some kind of angel and I’m pretty sure she was an amazing person, but she’s not here now. I am.»
Spencer wants to throw up, the intensity of the moment is almost too much for him but he has to stay. He can’t run away and break Y/N’s heart even more, especially now that she’s about to walk away from him – and probably his life for a very long time. He doesn’t know how she’s going to act at work, if she’s going to be able to face him every single day of her life until she or he quits. He doesn’t know anything.
«You treated me so well. I guess I can say you’re an amazing actor. – spits Y/N, venom filling her voice – If you had to quit your job, you could go straight to Hollywood.»
Spencer takes a deep breath, finally speaking up and knowing he’s about to destroy everything even more. «You’re not being a good girlfriend. You’ve never been one.»
She falls silent, her mouth agape and her eyes wide open.
«You’ve been selfish, always needing my attention when you could see I couldn’t be with you. – his voice sounds so cold, so distant, so aggressive yet so calm – You’ve never asked me how I felt about a new relationship after what happened to Maeve, you’ve never asked me why I couldn’t date for all those years after her death.»
But Y/N can’t keep her mouth shut, a tug on her heart forces her to speak up because this is not right. If he wants to break up with her, so be it, but he has no right to say these things – especially if they’re all lies to make him feel better, to make him sleep at night after committing the worst mistake of his life.
«I did, Spencer, I fucking did! You were the one that told me not to ask you questions, you were the one that told me you were ready for a new relationship with me because I was able to help you and understand you! You were the one that told me you couldn’t date anyone because you were terrified of losing them, and look at us now! Look at what you’re doing, Spencer! You’re losing me and you don’t give a fuck! – exclaims Y/N, kicking her bag on the floor – Don’t you fucking dare blame me for your inability to commit a relationship that we both seem to have wanted at the beginning. Don’t you fucking dare blame my paranoia and my insecurities, when I’ve been nothing but understanding with the whole Maeve situation. I didn’t know her like you knew her, but I knew her through your words and I’ve never wanted to take her place! Never.»
Spencer backs away now, seeing Y/N’s whole body shake with anger. If a look could kill, he would’ve been dead before she even set her eyes on his face. But who can blame her? He’s trying to get out of this situation, to break up with her for good because he can’t keep lying to her and forcing her to be with him.
«You are scared of people leaving you because of everything you’ve been through and I get it, Spencer. Jason left you, Derek left you, your father left you and Maeve died. I promised you I would never leave you because I’m truly, madly, deeply in love with you but remember that you are the reason why I am leaving now. – Y/N points his finger to his chest, pushing his body backwards – I offered you to ask a friend of mine to get you into her program, I asked you to talk to me if you felt the need to ease the weight off your chest but you’ve never said a single thing, besides promising me you were in love with me.»
«I lied! Okay? Yes, I fucking lied to you, Y/N! I lied about loving you and I lied about being over Maeve, is that what you wanted to hear? Is that what you wanted me to say? – he screams, his vein prominently popping on his neck as Y/N takes a step back – I want to break up with you because I don’t love you! I never did!»
These words won over her and Spencer feels like a part of himself has just died along with the last flicker of hope in her eyes.
Y/N simply looks at him, her eyes trying to understand if this is a nightmare or the truth of life as she holds back a sob.
Spencer wants to run to her and hug her so tightly he’ll consume her, he wants to throw himself off a window because he just ruined the most perfect woman he could ever meet.
He allowed his mind to play tricks on him, he let the memory of a ghost haunt him to the point he ruined his own relationship – a relationship that was actually helping him.
Y/N grabs her bag from the floor and walks to the door of his apartment, sniffling. She wants to turn around but she knows Spencer won’t look at her. This was the last straw for her because he spat in her face that he never loved her.
What hurts the most is that he didn’t even try, he didn’t even..
She opens the door with her shaky hands and takes a deep breath, turning around to look at him only to find him holding that book. There’s nothing else to say, there’s nothing else to do for her so she lets out a huge sigh, smiles at him and walks out of his apartment.
When the door closes with a loud slam, Spencer throws the book on the floor in anger.
He lost the only person who meant something for him.
“Miss me a little but not too long,
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we once shared,
Miss me but let go.”
Christina Georgina Rossetti
Taglist: @s1utformgg, @getyoutmoon @bookishspencer, @allexthakatt, @calm-and-doctor, @reidswhoree @nazifa94 @srhxpci @eevee0722 @reichelhache @aperrywilliams @escapingrealities @willowrose99
Let me know if you want to get added to my taglist. x
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Hotch’s Reid favoritism is so funny like he straight up lies to Hotch abt being cleared to fly after his knee injury & faces no consequence for it; he gets no formal punishment for the Owen Savage situation, Reid’s the first person Hotch opens up to about his divorce…Hotch knows Reid’s showing up to work high after revelations and doesn’t report it (although that might his guilt for sending Reid to Hankle’s house in the 1st place). In zugzwang he comes IMMEDIATELY when Reid asks even though they don’t take stalking cases, on a whim in s4 Reid’s like “can we stay in Vegas for an extra night” & no questions asked Hotch reschedules the whole team’s flight. Then afterwards he approves last minute time off AND allows 2 other team members to use FBI resources for a random cold case just bc Reid’s been torn up over it. this twink’s got hotch so wrapped around his finger and for what
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His expression gives me the following thoughts
1. You called him cute
2. You said you have a crush on him
3. He got caught staring at you
4. You guys are married however he's not used to pda, and you kiss him on the cheeks out of nowhere or give his weetle butt a squeeze
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to be true, to not be true pt. 2
summary: early in y/n’s and spencer’s relationship, y/n fears the growing distance between them, although what seemed to be possible infidelity, is actually much worse--for spencer.
word count: 3,969 reading time: 14 mins
warnings: angst, cheating allegations, mental illness
a/n: PLEASE READ!!!! the epilogue/finale for this will be uploaded on @goldentournesol later today!
What kind of life is lived when all you’re doing is waiting for the other shoe to drop? Waiting for the inevitability of cruelty? I stepped into a relationship with Spencer never expecting that I’d be waiting for the cord to snap. He led me into a cocoon of safety, one where I never doubted his motives. One I wasn’t sure I deserved.
Three little words can seemingly make or break a relationship, and the words Spencer had uttered confirmed that theory. However, unlike in most relationships--at least the fortunate ones, it wasn’t the three-word spectacle that symbolized the deep passion or confirmation of the shared sentiments. Instead, the dreadful trinity cut me deep, symbolizing the undoing of what we have--correction, had.
“It’s a date.”
I wish I could curse the air, scream into the sky, and stomp at the earth below me, but I couldn’t help but direct all malice to me.
What did she have that I didn’t? It must’ve been my intelligence. Everyday, Spencer was surrounded by the brightest minds--him outshining the rest, although his humbled self would always discredit that matter. With a considerate heart, he would mind voicing his opinions of people out loud, keeping to himself. However, there’s a significant distinction between publicly expressing your judgement and having internal thoughts, though unshared, still exist.
This baffled me, considering Spencer had always reassured me of this particular insecurity, suppressing the disquiet of my thoughts. Would he have lied? He seemingly excels at that, as of recent, among his other accolades. I would never admit it to him, but I would often find myself skimming through the books he loved--analyzing them so I’d better understand his mind or to offer a common topic. All the things I did for him to seem smarter in the past makes me look stupid now. The wasted effort should set every fiber of my being aflame and angered, however, all I can really feel is the doubt and self-resentment pricking at the walls of my chest.
All I can show for it are the blotched texture of my cheeks from incessant wet streaks, the suffocating push and pull of my throat, and the tautness of my muscles from the inability to move. On top of that, a heavy heart that carried the haunting spirit of a failure.
This disposition left me paralyzed on a Thursday night, alone in my apartment. The parallel left me with an incredulous expression. Just last week, I was on the precipice of my relationship without knowing it--senseless to the downward spiral that followed. What would I have changed, had I known this was going to happen? I tell myself this was all on him, but what if it isn’t? What if I led him to do this? To seek love and comfort in someone else.
Spencer’s been out of town for the last four days. I should have kept up with our nightly calls, but the truth is I couldn’t hear his voice without breaking down. His calls were left unanswered and I didn’t even know if that worried him or not. My insecurities had me by the throat and I just couldn’t shake them. Why was I dreading the day he returned? I’d seen his text messages, but hadn’t bothered to reply. I didn’t want him to know that I was festering in my own self-pity, so when I finally answered the call after he texted me to let me know that he was in town, I pretended I was someone else for it.
But then I thought...maybe, just maybe, it was all in my head. Maybe he wasn’t calling her as much as he was calling me, I didn’t even know if it was a her. I still thought that I might be desperate enough for his attention. So much so that I was willing to be the second option.
The phone call was short and dry, but I did my best to pretend that I was fine. He said he would take me out on a date tomorrow. It would be Friday, not Thursday. He said he was busy today and I didn’t ask him what he was doing, I had a feeling the knowledge would only cleave our relationship further. As tempting as it felt to pull away from him even more, I must admit that I missed him. I missed the way his nose scrunched when he was listening to me talk, I missed the way he’d always chime in with his facts and stories. I missed what we had and who we were before things started to change.
I forced myself to get ready for our date the next day. I circled around my apartment like a vulture circling around its prey, as if I’d find any motivation lying around, but it felt redundant so I stopped. I sat on my couch and nervously tapped away my anxiety until the doorbell rang throughout my apartment. Taking a deep breath, I made my way over to the door and opened it to see him holding a large bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. He’d never been one for grand gestures, and I’d never been one for flowers and chocolates, but from him, they were precious. I let myself accept them with a smile, even though the dread was eating me alive from the inside. Don’t cheaters and psychopaths buy gifts for their victims in a way to suppress their guilt? Did I just compare my boyfriend to a psychopath?
“What’s all this for?” I asked him after he greeted me with a kiss to my cheek. I put the flowers in a vase as he spoke, following me through the hallway and into my kitchen.
“Well, I felt bad for postponing our date and you sounded upset over the phone. I’m sorry I technically missed our date night.” Spencer said, tapping his fingers on my counter, waiting for my reaction. I surveyed him under my lashes. His remorse seemed genuine, but I was no profiler. I wouldn’t be able to catch his quirks as easily as he would.
I merely nodded, “Thank you, I love them.” I said, but the words felt like they were spoken from behind me, from someone else’s mouth. His eyes raked over me like they were assessing me, just as mine had a few moments ago.
“What?” I asked, trying my best to convey curiosity instead of acidity.
“Nothing, you just seem a bit on edge.” He said, smoothing a hand over his cardigan. My eyes followed his hand instead of meeting with his. His gaze felt sharp, even though I know he didn’t mean it that way.
“I’ve just been having a hard time at work.” I dismissed the conversation and quickly changed the subject, “So, are we ready?” He nodded, dropping it and we left my apartment.
The slight chill passing between the backs of our hands felt foreign to the skin. I guess I was so accustomed to the warmth and comfort enveloping the appendage that it felt like a phantom limb. I even miss the claminess of his fingers and how my own fit perfectly between the dips in his hand. However, it was difficult to reminisce with the penetrating thoughts of resentment and self-scolding in the back of my mind.
Every other step, Spencer would ask a shallow inquiry, in which I would reply with a mindless response. It’s like we reverted back to the naive touches and suppressed sentences in the beginning of our relationship. However this time, a tense air constricted the blood flow to our heads.
“So, what’s been going on at work?” he hummed, tilting his head towards me. Without meeting his analytical gaze, I responded with a mere quirk in the lips, suggesting a less than satisfactory experience. He nodded, sensing the imminent disinterest of the conversation.
While we walked on, I subconsciously laced my fingers togethers and observed the oscillating space between us. My feet staggered as I took a heavy interest in kicking stray pebbles and counting the cracks on the sidewalk. At this point, Spencer’s baffled yet indistinguishable expression had locked onto the side of my face. I would never mind his curiosity, but this time sent pins and needles shooting down my spine.
Unable to handle the suffocating air, I pushed the words off of my tongue and took a leap, “What did you do yesterday?” I sputtered out, cringing out how desperate and invasive I sounded; huffing, I rephrased my question to be less encroaching. Although why would that matter at this point? We’ve hit our climax, and we’re frankly teetering on the precipice.
“I had to deal with some family business,” he admitted breathlessly, a stutter undetectable in his words. I peaked at him from my disengaged stature, noticing the slight hilt in his voice was gone--a tell of dishonesty that was usually easy to spot. I guess he really did get better at it; they say continued practice makes perfect, right?
My head throbbed at the thought, and my nails dug into the surface of my fist. “Family business,” I nodded, not noticing the pure indignation evident in my tone. I hadn’t even realized that the phrase came out as a jesting scoff until Spencer had called my attention.
“Is something wrong?” He stopped suddenly, straying a few steps behind me as he waited. I could tell by the firmness of his voice that he was slightly annoyed by my reclusive behavior. Everyone had a limit, and Spencer wasn’t an exception to that.
I shook it off, finding my composure once again. I fought the bubbling feeling of impulsivity, the wanting to throw the whole world at him for deceiving me. I suppressed the desire to scream and yell, leaving them hidden in my imagination. I detested the way his eyes would scan over me in a mixed expression of pity and displeasure, adding onto the blaze inside my stomach.
My delivery left me stunned, and hearing the tenacity and resolve in my voice was almost unheard of. Although it did set a culpable insecurity in mind, knowing that it sprang from a place of abhorrence and anger. The second the word fell breathlessly off my tongue, it rubbed Spencer the wrong way. We’ve had petty fights before, but as individuals we’ve always advocated for fighting the problem together rather than each other. I hate to admit it, but between the two of us, it wasn’t surprising that Spencer had a sound mind. At least, that’s what I knew of.
He took a deep breath, as if he were resetting himself and shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat, “Let’s just eat something.” Instead of fighting, I heard him add, but of course he didn’t actually say it.
I wish I had the privilege of saying that dinner was intense or full of passive-aggressive bickering but instead it was a suffocating silence, only broken by conversing with our server. The room shrunk to the size of an elevator, and the extravagant decor transformed into four silver surrounding walls. Despite being only 3 feet away from each other, our presence felt miles away. At one point, I even contemplated fabricating a convoluted excuse to leave abruptly but it was my pride that prevented me from doing so.
The walk back to my apartment was even more tense. Spencer’s breathing pattern was off. I couldn’t remember when I’d begun analyzing his breathing, but I could tell something was off. The second the door of my unit slammed shut, I knew I was trapped in a vulnerable position. Spencer leaned against the door, dissecting every movement I made. I felt scrutinized under his line of sight, my resolve shrinking into nonexistence while I bit my tongue.
He scoffed under his breath, throwing his coat and phone onto the side table by the entrance. “So are we going to talk about what happened, or frankly, the lack of anything happening back there?” He held a pointed gaze, shifting his weight onto his hip. His tongue swiped the bottom of his lip, patiently waiting for an answer.
A breath was caught in my throat, preventing me from getting any words out. I refused to face him, keeping myself busy by trying to find a place for my belongings. I knew I had to be wise with my next words, however, my impulsivity was, sooner than later, going to send me into a fit of combustion. I found myself teetering at the precipice once again, thinking back to the lies and excuses he shamelessly threw my way. On the other hand, I couldn’t help but confide in the sunlight of our past. With only a few more seconds of running oxygen, I sighed, mumbling a deflecting response, “There’s not really much to talk about.”
The soft bang against the door caught me off guard. Shock ran through me as I turned around with an incredulous expression. My stature unconsciously shriveled into itself in fright as Spencer’s fist slide from the oak door. My mouth hung open, frozen in state, unable to form coherent sentences. Never once had I seen Spencer express himself by physical means, let alone operate on his own anger. Maybe it was the present naivety that lingered in our relationship, but judging by the discreet upset shown on his face, he too was stupefied.
"What is going on with you lately?" I asked, looking at him with a certain level of incredulity. His mouth flew open as his brows rose to his hairline. The once tense hands dropped to his sides as he swiped a few hairs from his face.
He gestured to the air with a nonchalant figure before deflecting the question at hand. “I could ask you the same thing, Y/N.” I could hear the slight stagger in his tone, like he was holding a part of himself back. It must’ve been the adrenaline pumping through his veins from whatever affair he participated in. Frankly it made me question the integrity of his fib; how long was he going to hold out on me?
I couldn’t distinguish between the thoughts of Spencer possibly continuing this fib because of his cowardice or if Spencer truly thought I was too gullible. Both sent a blaze through me that attacked every piece of rationality I had left; it was as if shots of espresso were injected into my veins. Spencer’s elusive response hadn’t helped with the compelling sensation either, leaving me defenseless against my absurdity.
Although, to think of it, is it really illogical to be vexed by Spencer’s vague behavior?
“Me?! I’m not the one who’s being secretive.” I defended, my fists at my side.
“And how exactly am I being secretive, y/n?” Spencer raised his voice, an unfamiliar boom echoing throughout the room. “Please! Tell me ‘exactly,’ how I’m being secretive.” He responded like a petulant child, emphasizing simple words to enhance the condescension in his tone.
“Oh, so you think I haven’t noticed the calls? The way you hide your phone from my view when you get a notification? Do you really think I’m that stupid, Spencer?” I said.
“And, how is that exactly being secretive, y/n? I have my own business to attend to,” he defended. “Frankly, I think you’re the one overstepping here!” Spencer avoided the question per usual, unconsciously switching the scope to me. I felt a bubble rise in my throat, similar to the tightness I felt whenever I cried, however this time, it was from a place of malice.
“I am not overstepping because you are being secretive! I have no idea who you’re talking to! Where were you last week? Where were you yesterday?” I fought to keep my voice even.
“How is that even your business in the first place? You’re not my mother.” His voice cracked on the last syllable, almost undetectable to unknowing ears. He tried to brush it off, using intimidation to distract from the emotion crawling up his throat. Knowing Spencer, he did a rather exceptional job, although at this moment, I suspected a chink in his resolve.
“I don’t have to be your mother to know that something is wrong! Stop deflecting!” I blurted in a fit of frustration.
“You see, you keep trying to tell me that there’s something ‘wrong,’ with me! But there’s obviously some unresolved issue that you’re getting at here to be this upset!” He threw his hands into the air, shrugging his shoulders with an air of arrogance.
“God, do not twist my words here, Spencer Reid! I did not say that there was anything wrong with you, I said there was something wrong. Unresolved issue?! What the hell does that even mean?”
“You know for someone who’s claiming to be so perceptive of what’s ‘wrong,’ you’re really awful at being self-aware. I mean...the attitude, the distance, the--the closed off expression at dinner! I mean wh-what the hell was that!” He grimaced, biting the inside of his cheek as he finished his heated spiel.
I couldn’t help but scoff at his words. Me not being self-aware! “Oh, please. Ladies and gentlemen, a world class behavioral analyst!” I gestured to him sarcastically, like a ringmaster would with his gags, hoping that Spencer could realize how ridiculous he sounded. “You tell me why I was acting so strange!” I was livid, the words that came out didn’t seem to make any sense. I just wanted him to feel what I felt.
“Oh, I’m sorry! Let me play my part,” he pathetically bowed to me, exaggerating his movements. “Here, I’ll sit and do the things that you can’t, and practically feed into all your insecurity!” He mockingly laughed, “because that’s what this is all about right? You’re not getting enough attention?”
I groaned in frustration, “You are so infuriating!” I could feel the anger ripping its way through my skull.
“And you’re so invasive! All I needed was time and space to figure a few personal things out. I’m sorry that we’re not at a point in our relationship where I’m expected to tell you every bit of my life.” He pointed to himself with such ferocity, although it was the pure indignation in his eyes that sent a harsh chill into me. “I’m not comfortable with you, and that’s that.”
I couldn’t ignore the way his words stabbed their way into my heart upon hearing them. They violently ripped open a cavern in my chest and settled there. My moment of hesitation must have caught him off guard and he reeled back slightly, as if aware of what he had said. The air in the room began to shift as the silence danced between us, taunting us.
Beyond my control, my lip quivered slightly as I stared at him, my eyes growing wetter by the second, “Is that...is that why you’re cheating on me?” I asked, my voice coming out shockingly small. I was never the best at showing my emotions and being vulnerable, but if he was going to break up with me, he had to do it now before the dam released.
His eyebrows cinched together, his mouth following suit. He turned his attention away from me, taking his head in the palm of his hands. The tips of his fingers rubbed at his temples while I stood there helplessly. It was as if my words were obsolete in his ears, getting lost in the thick air. His shoulders rolled back and his chest puffed; his eyes were also scrunched closed like he was tired of hearing my voice. “God, y/n,” he whispered, dropping his head, “can we not get into his right now?”
A ball had expanded in my throat, and the gates that fortified every tear I suppressed crumbled. My chest compressed and expanded at the same time, leaving me in an aching loop. “Did… Are you just…” I bit my lip as it continued to tremble, stifling the sobs crawling up my esophagus. I leaned my head back, diverting my attention to the ceiling to save the last bit of my composure.
Soon enough, the fire from before mixed with the saltiness of the fluid staining my cheeks. I had needed some part of me alive--I needed part of me to live for me. Nonetheless, that didn’t stop the constriction of my muscles, contrasting with the exhaustion coursing through my head. At this point, I didn’t know if I was going to fall or peak. I didn’t know if I was on that precipice again or if I was soaring into a disposition much worse.
It was poetic if you thought about it. The pain and exhaustion was my kerosene to an unforeseen ember. He sighed, reaching my prodding eyes once again, “I’m just… I’m getting a headache from all this.”
“Spencer fucking Reid, ladies and gentlemen.” I brought my middle fingers under my eyes, wiping away the pain and grime. I shook my head, biting my bottom lip but not biting my tongue. Not this time. “All you can fucking say is that… you have a headache?” I scoffed. “Well you know what Dr. Reid-”
“Y/N, we’re not getting into this.” He began to cower away, brushing past me to get to the kitchen. Gently pushing me aside, he dared not to look back at my provoked visage.
“No, let me talk” I asserted.
“You can talk however the hell you like, y/n.” Spencer turned around, shrugging his shoulders like an odd air of indifference. His head was still in his clutch, explaining his lack of eye contact. “But I sure as hell won’t be listening to you.”
“Funny how I’m causing you a fucking headache cause your mouth is doing the same damn thing to-”
“GOD, can you let me speak!” I huffed, feeling an overpowering shock shoot through my resolve. Sparks fused with the blood in my veins and the adrenaline felt like battery acid. I guess I was soaring rather than falling.
“Y/N, I really don’t want to get into this…” His voice went suspiciously soft, although I knew better than to let that hinder my determination.
“Why don’t you see a doctor then?” I spat, unbeknownst to the animosity tied to my words. “You know what?! Why don’t you fuck them too, since you’re on a damn roll!”
The air changed the second those words rolled off my tongue, however, I was unfortunately unconscious to the great shift. Spencer’s hand left his temple, and his head slowly raised to reach my eyeline. He held a blank expression, but by the indistinguishable twitch in his cheek, I knew his nonchalant demeanor dissipated.
“You don’t know a damn thing,” he mumbled in intimacy, like he was reassuring himself. “Maybe I should see a doctor--MATTER of a fact, I am seeing one,” he nodded mockingly, his eyes lined in a penetrating glare.
My heart sank at his words; the ground below me decayed, seemingly unable to support the withered organ. However, if I had known that the world, my world, would collapse with an unsettling phrase that would follow, maybe I would’ve preferred falling off that peak after all.
“But I’m not fucking anyone, y/n. I never did.” The words left him breathless and gritted with every syllable, although that didn’t take away from the pure abhorrence towards me.
“I’m sick… Are you satisfied now? My mind is slowly deteriorating, my mother’s illness is slowly killing me,” he cried, “an-and all you care about is yourself.” His face fell to the floor, hiding the blotchy redness invading his cheeks. “Frankly, with whatever lucidity I have remaining… I would rather spend it on anyone better, than you…”
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To the Moon & Back | S.R.
Prompt: Father missed important even of child's for work
Summary: Spencer realizes all too late that he missed his daughter's bridging ceremony while on the jet consulting on a new case with his old team.
A/N: This is set in my ACEotRK universe with my OC, Charlotte. This is also my first time writing a Child!Reader fic, so please bare with me. Also, Reader is originally an OC (and that version can be read at a later date). Also, going off of a personal experience I had as a brownie bridging to juniors as my dad missed it cause of his job. Happy Father's Day! This is for @imagining-in-the-margins's 'Father's Day' fic event.
Couple: Spencer Reid x Charlotte Reid (OC)
Category: Fluff. Some Minor Angst as per the Prompt.
Content Warning: None, really.
Word Count: 1.6k
"Oh, Pumpkin, I promise I'll be at your bridging ceremony tomorrow."
That was the last thing I said to my daughter over twenty-four hours ago. This wasn't ever supposed to happen. I'd retired from the BAU over three years ago when our son was born. My wife, Charlotte, had put our daughter, Y/N, in Girl Scouts the minute she was in kindergarten. She was what they refer to as a Daisy.
In her small troop, she'd managed to make friends, a couple are even in her kindergarten class. She was ecstatic, always eager to tell me all about it the minute I'd get home from a long day of teaching over at Georgetown, where I'd met their mother over eight years ago.
Now, here I was, in a lonely hotel room--blaming myself for agreeing to join my old team on this case as a favor to Emily. She'd left before I did, not long after Garcia, but somehow still manages to know about every case that they take on. Matt, Luke, and Tara were still here, though I once overheard Matt talk more and more about retirement every day.
He even asked me once, after Charlotte and I had gotten married when Y/N was just a year old, "How did you know now was the perfect time to retire?"
Funny, I'd always greatly admired him for being able to do it all. He and Kristy had five kids now, all while he's been an FBI agent. They have a foundational trust I had always hoped to one day have with someone. Luckily, for me, I did eventually find that in my relationship with Charlotte. Nothing against the Simmons' but I knew the moment Charlotte had told me she was pregnant, I couldn't remain an active agent forever.
She also greatly understood and acknowledged that I couldn't just quit cold turkey, either. So, I managed to still keep with my initial reinstatement terms. During each of my thirty-day sabbaticals, the three of us would travel as I continued to teach part-time. Then, our son was born. That was the moment I'd been waiting for.
The day I handed my resignation letter to Emily was one of the happiest days of my life. Though, Charlotte didn't buy it entirely. "I'm glad you're taking up teaching full-time, Spence, I really am, and Y/N is too, but---just know you have my blessing to go on a case with them from time to time. Don't bother trying to lie. I know you."
Ever since then, things have been going great. I was there when our son said his first word (which was da-da!), took his first steps, things I wish I hadn't missed when Y/N was his age. So, with that in mind, I vowed to never miss a single one of her upcoming events. Be it anything school-related, her t-ball practices and games, or anything to do with Girl Scouts.
Which is why I promised her I wouldn't miss her bridging ceremony from a Daisy to a Brownie for the world.
No matter what reason or excuse I had, being that this unsub was trickier to track than we had initially anticipated, still---nothing could excuse why I, a father, could miss the one event my daughter has been non-stop telling me about for months.
Walking up the steps of my house hurt more than I wanted to admit. I knew that she'd be sound asleep, tears staining her precious face while her mother has a good talk with me.
"Spence, please, don't blame yourself--It was one bridging ceremony, there'll be more."
I knew that. I knew Charlotte's words had grains of truth in them. Didn't lessen the blow one bit, though. That night, while my wife was cuddled up to my side, snoring softly the way she always does, I couldn't stop my brain from creating different ways to make up my unforgiveable absence to our daughter.
That's when it hit me.
I had some vacation days available that I'd been sitting on for a while. Y/N loved going camping. It was a big part in her being happy to join Girl Scouts. I knew she had a camping trip scheduled a few months from now, but I couldn't wait. I put in the request to the Unit Chief to not call me--even for something small like an over-the-phone consultation---I was not to be disturbed for the entire weekend.
At the university, I simply relayed to my students via email that they would have that Friday and Monday off from class. Everything was perfect. Well, except that I'd have to endure two more weeks of my only daughter throwing me daggers with her eyes from across the kitchen table every morning at breakfast, leaving me without my expected goodbye-on-the-cheek kiss I've grown so accustomed to over the years.
Before I knew it, the last weekend before our surprise trip came. I had managed not to tell a single soul about it, not even my wife. Every now and then, Charlotte would cut her eyes at me and I just knew that maybe she'd found me out.
Turns out, even as a qualified genius, I'm not all that bright when it comes to the mind of women. More specifically, the minds of my lovely wife and precious daughter.
"Daddy! Can we please go shopping today?"
Y/N knew that was at the top of t he list for things I honestly would often protest about when it came to her. More times than not, I'd give Charlotte my best puppy dog eyes, pleading with her to take her daughter out clothes shopping. Book shopping? Now that I wouldn't have minded, that is, until the time I did take her, and all she could talk about was the pre-teen magazines with boys twice her age on the cover.
"Please, Daddy! You already promised the day you missed my bridging ceremony."
Way to rub it in, kiddo.
I still managed to give Charlotte one last feeble attempt at begging, but she flat out scoffed, playfully, I might add. "Sorry, honey, this time it's you who picked the short straw." Truth is, I am extremely grateful I have this time alone with Y/N. I shouldn't need to wait another week to make it up to her.
As I finished strapping her in her car seat, I noticed Charlotte placing out son in his own right next to Y/N.
"I thought I was taking Y/N shopping alone?"
"Oh, you are," Charlotte smirked, "But, as you know this little guy here needs some more pull-ups and I could certainly browse the DVD section any old day, you know that." I smiled back at her as I moved to sit in the driver's seat. "Oh no, I think I'll drive."
I didn't think to question it as we clearly passed the Target I know Y/N always begs Charlotte to take her to for their designated shopping trips. Within the following twenty minutes, we were parked near a playground. "Honey, what's...going on?"
Before Charlotte could answer me, Y/N was already out of her booster seat, pulling at my hand to drag me away from the playground towards a bridge over a small pond. When I took a moment to catch my breath, I looked down at my daughter, who had her cute little blue apron on, along with a brown sash held in her other hand.
Just when I was about to ask again what exactly was going on, Charlotte came up behind me with our son in her arms as she played a melody on her phone. The sound of trumpets played through the small speaker as Y/N walked slowly across the bridge.
The moment struck me straight in my heart.
Y/N and Charlotte were recreating her bridging ceremony.
The one I missed and have felt guilty over for the past few weeks.
To say I didn't deserve such a wonderful family was a direct understatement.
Y/N reached the end of the bridge, proudly handing out her pin towards me. "Daddy, please can you pin this on my apron?"
This was the moment. My moment. Normally, the moms are the ones who partake in these kinds of events, especially with their daughters. But Charlotte knew this was something I would want to do--even more than her. She'd been a Girl Scout in her youth, and she happily took her place as a co-leader when they found a troop fitting for Y/N.
As I placed the pin firmly on my daughter's Daisy apron, a tear fell from my eye. Y/N moved to wipe it off with her small thumb, pulling me into a hug while I was still knelt down at her level.
"I love you Daddy, to the moon and back."
I smiled at her, pulling her tighter and giving her a sweet kiss to her forehead.
"I love you, too, Pumpkin, to the moon and back."
When we got back home, it took Charlotte and I no time at all to put the kids to bed for the night. While we were cuddled up on the couch watching some reality show, Charlotte looks up at me with that very same sly look she had been eyeing me with earlier.
"So, Spence, still planning on winning 'Best Dad of the Year' Award?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." With a proud smirk still on her pretty lips, I watched as Charlotte pulled out her phone, showing me a notification that I had charged our joint credit card with the reservations for a camping site.
"You do know, no matter what, she'll always think of you as the best dad in the world, right?"
"I know," I admitted. "But--it can't hurt to sweeten the pot, right?"
Spencer Reid Taglist: @dreatine @cupcake525 @spencer-reid-in-a-pool @etherealsxnder @samanddeanstolethetardis221b @palestxrlight @drspencr @hopebaker @theamuz @pinkdiamond1016 @april-14-blog @kricketc30 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @averyhotchner @ashwarren32 @calm-and-doctor @muffin-cup@spenxerslut
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Three In The Morning
Pairing: Dad!Ralvez x GN Child!Reader
Summary: Spencer helps Reader with insomnia, and Luke helps both of them bake cookies without destroying the kitchen.
Word Count: 2.0k
A/N: This is for Pom’s (@imagining-in-the-margins ) Father’s Day Challenge! It’s different than what I usually write, but I thought it would be fun to write a Child!Reader with Dad!Ralvez so here we are (reader is still Gender Neutral, but please let me know if there’s anything that implies otherwise!)
Pom hosted this challenge because some don’t have a father worth celebrating, and I think she’s an amazing human for doing this. So let’s all take a moment to appreciate her!!
This fic also deals with insomnia (found in the warnings), which I suffer from so this is written from what I’ve experienced. Keep in mind that people experience insomnia in different ways.
Lastly, the ending literally sucks and I’m so sorry.
Okay, that’s it! Hope you enjoy, and happy Father’s Day.
[Please do no steal my work. Reblogs are appreciated. Happy reading!]
“Alright, we need to go to bed.” Luke gets up from his spot on the couch next to you, pulling his blanket with him to fold it. You sigh, not wanting to move yet, but you know you have to. Arguing with him would get you nowhere when both of you know he’s right.
You follow his lead, folding your own blanket and putting it back in its place before turning off the TV. Roxy gets up from her spot on the couch, knowing it’s time to go to bed as Luke turns off all the lights and the both of you start walking down the hall.
“We have to leave by nine tomorrow, so set your alarm, or Dad or I can wake you up.” He whispers, reminding you of the family’s breakfast plans with Uncle Derek.
“I’ll just set my alarm. Night, Dad.” You keep your voice low as well, not wanting to wake Spencer who went to bed a while ago. When you reach your room, you turn on the light for Roxy, watching as she walks in and jumps on your bed.
“Goodnight.” He walks further down the hall to his bedroom as you walk the few steps across the hall to your bathroom to do your nightly routine. After you’re done, you walk back to your room and close the door behind you quietly.
You turn off the light and walk over to your bed, pulling the covers down so you can slide between the sheets. Roxy gets up from the foot of the bed where she was waiting for you and moves to lay up against you, wanting to cuddle.
You pet her a few times and remember to set your alarm, grabbing your phone and set it so you have enough time to get ready in the morning. The time in the corner catches your attention, seeing that it’s almost midnight. You put your phone back down, turning to pet Roxy while you close your eyes and wait for sleep to come.
After laying there for a while and switching positions multiple times with no success of falling asleep, you look at the time and see that an hour has passed. You let out a loud sigh at this, frustrated with yourself for not being able to sleep.
This isn’t the first time, you’ve had other nights where you weren’t able to fall asleep, but it’s still frustrating every time. You feel tired and you know you have to wake up in the morning, so you close your eyes again.
Laying there, knowing that trying to sleep is useless because it’s not going to happen, you become bored. You grab your phone, hoping that doing something instead of just laying there will help a little, but all it does is pass by another hour.
You set your phone back down on the nightstand and cover your face with your hands as you lay on your back, just wanting to go to sleep. You turn your head to look at Roxy, who is awake from all your rustling.
“Why can’t I go to sleep?” You ask her, and she lets out a little whine, snuggling closer to you. Her two front legs are sprawled over your chest, trying to comfort you as she senses your stress.
Roxy has always been good at sensing when someone is stressed, and she loves to cuddle so she’s been like your best friend. Always there when you need her. Luke was jealous at first since she liked you so much and started sleeping with you, but he has Spencer so you don’t feel too bad.
She lays her head down and you scratch her ears as you look up at the ceiling, your eyelids feeling heavy despite not being able to fall asleep. You pet her for a while before you start to feel restless, so you eventually push her off of your chest gently and get out of bed, going out into the living room where you were a couple of hours ago.
You hear Roxy following you as you grab a blanket and lay down on the couch. Desperate to fall asleep, you turn on the TV and lower the volume, hoping that your dads don’t hear you and the background noise from the TV will help you fall asleep.
But, of course, it doesn’t.
You keep moving around—laying on your left side, then your back, then your right, even your stomach. You only become more annoyed as time passes, letting out a loud sigh as you feel like crying.
“You okay?” You hear Spencer ask in a soft voice, but you still jump as you thought he was sound asleep in his room.
You sit up as you shake your head. He walks around the couch and you rest your back on the arm of it so he has room to sit. Once he’s settled, he looks at you with a soft look on his face, silently asking “what’s wrong”.
But you ignore it, not wanting to talk about it even though he might be confused as to why his child is almost in tears, on the couch, in the middle of the night. You’ve never been one to talk about your feelings, even to your dads.
“I thought you went to bed.” He leans back, now slouched against the couch.
“I did, but your dad’s snoring woke me up.” You both laugh at this, a small relief from the stressful few hours. “What about you?” He asks verbally this time, wanting you to answer him.
You wished he didn’t come out here so you didn’t have to talk, but you also know how annoying Luke’s snoring could be from when he naps on the couch. You just feel like suffering alone right now, but you force yourself to realize that’s not healthy and it could be good to talk. It might even make you tired, since nothing else has.
“Just… can’t fall asleep. Insomnia.” You say and he nods, probably knowing from your vague answer you aren’t that fond of talking about it. Yet, he still continues on as if he didn’t notice.
“How come?” The first thing that comes to your mind is what you just said—insomnia. But he’d ask you to elaborate anyways if you gave him that as an answer, so you try to think.
How come? You don’t know. It should be easy to answer, but it’s not. You furrow your eyebrows and look down at the blanket that your hands are fiddling with as if that’ll give you the answer, but nothing comes to mind.
“I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it.” Shrugging your shoulders, you look back up at him and see he’s looking at the TV.
“If you’ve never thought about it, that means you’ve had time to think about it. Which means this has happened before.” He analyzes, and you purse your lips. You don’t say anything, instead just choosing to sit there and that in itself gives Spencer an answer.
“Why haven’t you told me?” He doesn’t seem hurt that you didn’t tell him, but he could be and is just hiding it because he doesn’t want to make you feel guilty. Either way, you’re thankful he just sounded curious.
“It didn’t seem important. It’s only happened a few times.” You didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but Spencer and Luke are protective dads so everything is important to them. It can sometimes be annoying, but you know you’re overall lucky that they care so much.
“You’re losing sleep over something, though. I think that’s important. Don’t you?” You mumble a quiet agreement even though you don’t agree, but you’re not really in the mood to argue.
The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, the only noise coming from the TV that both of you are looking at, but neither of you are truly interested in it, before he talks again. “Do you know what helps me when I have insomnia?”
You shake your head, looking over at him.
“Meditating.” You give him a look, as if to say that sounds awful. “Well what else do you wanna do?”
You give him multiple ideas, but he rejects them all using his logical brain to say what could go wrong, and how that isn’t something you should do in the middle of the night, and how that’s too loud and it’ll wake up Luke.
Somehow, you both end up in the kitchen baking cookies. Spencer has a sweet tooth so he agreed even though you both suck at baking. You know something is bound to go wrong because you’re just as clumsy as Spencer, but he’s too prideful to admit that he can’t bake.
You both decide to hide them from Luke, though, because he’s a child when it comes to sweets and if he finds out that you were making cookies without him, he’ll get upset and then he’ll eat them all.
When you get to the kitchen, you start getting out all of the ingredients and supplies. As you’re getting the eggs from the fridge, Spencer gets a bowl to mix everything in and you go to turn around, but Spencer is right there and you bump into him, sending the eggs in your hands and the bowl in his hands to the floor.
And that’s the something that was bound to go wrong.
The bowl is metal, so it makes a loud crashing sound as it hits the tile floor and the eggs crack. You instinctively step away quickly before anything can get on your feet and your hands go to cover your ears.
Looking up at Spencer, you see he’s cringing from the noise, both of you hoping that it didn’t wake Luke up. After what feels like an eternity of standing there silently and hearing nothing, you’re the first one to speak.
“Do you think he woke up?” You whisper, as if that’ll help after the bowl dropped.
“Probably, yeah. Why did you turn around?” He asks, trying to blame you. He gets like this sometimes, whenever he’s scared of getting in trouble by Luke. You usually find it funny, but right now you find it annoying because this was definitely not your fault and you don’t want Luke to eat all the cookies.
“Me?? Why were you standing behind me?” You whisper yell back at him and he starts to respond, but he’s interrupted.
“-What the hell?” The two of you look over to see Luke standing at the entrance of the kitchen, hands on his hips and eyebrows furrowed.
“Oh, hey Dad.” You say casually, not knowing what else to do. Spencer just gives his awkward wave, choosing not to say anything.
“What are you guys doing?” You and Spencer look back at each other, each of you silently telling the other to speak first. You give in, groaning, as you look at Luke again.
“Making cookies.” He stares at you for a moment, then at Spencer, and finally down to the mess on the floor. You and Spencer wait for him to say something, wondering what he’s thinking.
“At three in the morning?”
“Uh, yeah.” Spencer finally speaks up and Luke throws his hands in the air, scoffing.
“Without me?” You knew it. You look at Spencer annoyed that you now have to share. “I love cookies.”
He walks further into the kitchen to where you and Spencer are standing, going to clean up the eggs on the floor and you move to help him, hoping you can use this later to convince him to not eat all the cookies.
“What are you guys doing up anyways?”
“Y/N has insomnia, and your snoring woke me up.”
“Okay, I do not snore.” Luke denies Spencer’s statement as if it were the most ridiculous thing ever, and Spencer is about to argue but Luke continues, giving Spencer a look. “But that’s not important right now.”
They talk with you about your insomnia while making the dough, and you eventually change the topic because you don’t want to talk about it anymore. You know they’ll bring it up another time, which you’re fine with because you know they just want to help.
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CRIMINAL MINDS SEASON 15 SPOILERS: I NEED AN OPINION.
Please, read it if you’ve already finished Criminal Minds.
Do you think Spencer and Max stayed together at the end of season 15?
Because we’ve seen her in episode 4 and episode 6 but that’s it.
I was hoping to see her at the Hospital and at the party with Spencer in episode 10, so I was a bit disappointed. Now I don’t know what to think, I just re-watched episode 4 and I’m falling in love with her.
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the real reason gideon left 😢
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