Tumgik
#though i did forget Derek and had to add him in
sequinsmile-x · 2 years
Text
To Have and to Hold
She wanted him. This. She didn't need anything else.
Part 1 of 2.
-x-
Based on two prompts I got from anon, which are:
“I just want to relax in your arms” and “I could just stare at you forever” “Creep”
Both appear in part 2
-x-
Words: 3.4k
Warnings: None for this part, part 2, however, will have smut.
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Emily sighs with relief as she watches the time on her computer click over to 5 pm. The weekend starts with little fanfare as she turns around in her chair to look at the team, smiling as she sees similar relief on all of their faces. Penelope is sitting on the edge of Spencer’s desk as she often did on Friday afternoons when they were in the office, her attention span waning as two days off drew near, the youngest member of the team the easiest to distract. Emily shakes her head at the pack of cards in between them, and she wonders if Aaron had looked down from his office to see members of his team playing poker during the working day, if he had simply just turned a blind eye. 
“What’s everyone doing this weekend?” Penelope asks her enthusiasm as present as ever. 
“Henry has been going on and on about the new exhibit at the museum,” JJ says, smiling despite the resignation in her voice, “Will and I are going to take him tomorrow.” 
“Oh, Jack has been asking to go too,” Emily adds, “You’ll have to let me know what it’s like.” 
“What about you and bossman, Em?” Penelope asks, always keen for an insight into their lives, no matter how small, “What are you doing?” 
“Just the usual weekend things,” Emily replies, smiling softly, “Jack has soccer, and then we’ll take him for lunch at this diner he’s obsessed with.” 
“The place with the coffee you hate?” Derek asks, his eyebrow raised, a teasing smile on his face that came out whenever they spoke about Jack. Her inability to say no to the young boy she loved as her own was well known amongst the team. 
She groans, “Yes, but he likes the pancakes,” she smiles, “Aaron will just have to make me coffee at home.” 
“Em?” 
She turns to see Aaron standing outside his office, leaning over the railing with his briefcase in hand, and she wonders how long he’s been standing there. 
“Hi, ready to go?” She asks hopefully, and he nods in response, making his way down the stairs. She stands quickly and grabs her bag, looking at the others as she gives them a quick wave, “See you all on Monday.” 
“Have a good weekend you two,” Penelope calls after them, immediately distracted again by Spencer and his insistence that it was her turn in their game. 
As always, Aaron keeps a respectable distance from Emily until they are alone in the elevator, his hand pressing into her lower back as they wait for the short journey to the ground floor. 
“Just the usual weekend things?” Aaron says, an eyebrow raised at her in amusement when she looks up at him, “You are worryingly good at lying sometimes.”
She smiles brightly at him, and she leans in to kiss his cheek quickly, aware they were almost arriving at their destination, the elevator slowing as it reached the parking garage. 
“It’s like you forget I used to be a spy.” She replies, and she winks at him as the doors to the elevator opens. She walks out towards their car, his gaze burning into her back as she goes.
___ 
One Month Earlier 
It was Jack who’d told her. 
A whispered, half-asleep, confession as he drifted off after the second story he’d convinced her to read to him. 
“Daddy wants to marry you, he said you won’t be an evil stepmother like Cinderella’s.” 
Emily can’t say she was surprised. They’d been together for a couple of years, they lived together in a house they had bought, the first place she had ever been able to truly call home. She wanted to marry Aaron, to be his wife, and she wanted to call him her husband. Her answer would only be yes. 
But weeks had passed with nothing said or done, and she found herself going mad with it. Like the thought had been dangled in front of her and torn away, even though Aaron had no idea Jack had said anything to her about it, even though Jack didn’t remember. 
She takes a deep breath as she pauses outside of his home office, a glass of scotch in each hand, and she walks in, smiling at him the second he looks up.
“Hi, sweetheart.” 
“Thought you could do with a drink,” she says holding the glasses up as she walks over, putting one in front of him, “You’ve been in here a while.”
“Sorry, Em, these budget reports are taking forever.” 
She smiles down at him, her hand briefly running through his hair, her nails blunt against his scalp.
“Do you have 5 minutes?” She asks, not wanting to lose her brief window of bravery, the voice in the back of her head telling her to just talk to him about it louder than ever. Aaron smiles at her and pushes back from the desk, making room for her to climb into his lap. 
“For you, always.” He replies. It was something she knew he learnt from his divorce, the ripple effects of the breakdown of his relationship with Haley still clear even now.
He always had time for her, for their relationship. 
She beams at him as she sits down, curling up into his lap as she takes a sip of her drink. He wraps an arm around her to secure her to him. She turns her head so she can look at him, and she takes another sip of her drink, the burn in her throat going some way to take away from the unexpected anxiety. 
“I know you’re planning to propose,” she says, her smile widens when his grip tightens on her, his head turning so fast to look at her that she’s sure he must have hurt his neck, “Jack told me,” she explains, answering the question he hadn’t asked. 
He sighs, shaking his head slightly as he leans his forehead against her temple. “I didn’t even get the chance to buy the ring yet.” 
“I don’t need that Aaron,” Emily replies, cupping his cheek to encourage him to look at her properly, “I just want to be married to you,” she smiles as she gently strokes at his jaw, his stubble poking at her skin, “I don’t want the fuss of an engagement, or a big wedding my mother will talk us into, I just want to be your wife.” 
“Em.”
She can see it on his face, the doubt. The worry he’d be taking something from her, the big wedding and celebration he’d had with his first wife. She kisses him, a quick thing stamped against his lips, and she pulls back just far enough to speak.
“I mean it,” she whispers, her nose pressing into his cheek, “we should…just go get married.” 
He looks like he’s going to argue, a protest on the tip of his tongue, but he stops himself, smiling at her.
“Ok,” he agrees, closing the small gap between them to kiss her, “What are you thinking?” 
She bites her lower lip, a useless attempt to stop her smile from getting any wider. “You, me, and Jack, at the courthouse. Jessica should be there too, she can be a witness and then take Jack home. And then we should go to a hotel…celebrate.” 
He laughs as she winks at him at the end of her sentence, “You’ve really thought about this.” 
“Ever since Jack first mentioned it a few weeks ago.” She replies, and he groans, resting his head against her temple again. She chuckles and runs a hand through his hair, “What?” 
“He didn’t even last a day before telling you.” 
___
Emily steps back from the mirror, taking in her appearance one last time as she straightens out the bottom of her jacket, making sure it was laying flat. 
She’d settled on a suit for the wedding, not wanting the fuss of a dress, especially since they were simply going to the courthouse together. It was white and fitted, a purchase she had been proud of when she bought it only a week after her discussion with Aaron in their home office. She had paired it with a simple white camisole, and her white Louboutin’s, the splash of red on the sole matching her lipstick. 
She’d spent the last month teasing Aaron with clues about her outfit, wanting the surprise of it to be the only aspect of a traditional wedding that they had. She can’t help but smile as she looks herself up and down. This wouldn’t have been how she’d pictured her wedding day when she was young, sure that she’d end up marrying someone her mother approved of, a big ceremony she didn’t want marking the start of the next phase of her life. 
This would be different. Something intimate, simple. 
There is a knock at the bathroom door, “Em, are you almost ready?” It makes her smile, and she looks at herself once more in the mirror. 
This would be perfect for them.
She turns and opens the bathroom door, her smile widening as her eyes meet Aaron’s. He looks her up and down, taking a step back so he could take her in properly, an adoring look on her face. 
“Sweetheart…” he says, drifting off as if he was lost for words. When they first got together, she sometimes found herself feeling almost uncomfortable with the way he revered her, his love for her so clear it took her breath away. Now she was used to it but never got bored of it. Desperate for more of his love, addicted in a way she had never anticipated she could be. “You look beautiful.” 
She beams at him, her smile so wide she’s sure her face would split open from it, and she feels her cheeks blush slightly, her skin burning with it. She looks him up and down, taking her time to do so. He was wearing one of his suits he usually wore to work, with a new tie she’d bought him as a gift. Aaron had checked more than once that she didn’t want him to dress up anymore, saying he’d be happy to buy something new, but she’d refused. 
She had fallen in love with him when he wore one of these suits, it only made sense that she’d marry him in one too. 
She takes a step towards him and kisses him softly, careful not to print her lipstick on him. “You look pretty good yourself.” He reaches for her, his hand about to land on her hip, and she steps back, shaking her head at him, “I’d like to at least get to the courthouse before we get a mark on his suit.” 
Aaron holds his hand up in understanding and quickly kisses her again, “You’d best keep Jack away from you then, I made him change but I swear he manages to get dirt on himself no matter what.” 
Emily steps past him and into the bedroom, chuckling as she does, “Do you have the rings?” 
He pulls a box out of his pants pocket, opening it to reveal twin platinum rings inside of it. The one intended for her had a line of diamonds set back into the band, a compromise between her and Aaron that satisfied his need to buy her something more classic, and her insistence she didn’t need an engagement ring, that she wanted a wedding ring that wouldn’t snag on gloves at a crime scene. They’d discussed it animatedly in the jewellery store, to the amusement of the girl who worked there, finally settling on what they had chosen. 
“Got them,” he confirms, snapping the box closed and putting it back in his pocket, he offers her his hand and smiles at her, “Ready to go get married?” 
She returns his smile and closes the gap between them, linking her fingers through his. 
“I’ve never been so ready for anything.” 
___
“This is taking ages,” Jack says, resting his head on Emily’s shoulder, snuggling into her side as best as he can in the plastic chairs they were sitting in. She was sitting in between Jack and Aaron, one arm around the little boy, and her hand tangled up with Aaron’s. A purposeful move to ensure she didn’t pick at her cuticles, a nervous excitement thrumming under her skin. 
Emily laughs and turns her head, kissing the top of his head, “I know, baby,” she says, leaning back to look at him, “They did say it would be a little while though, Saturday’s are their busiest days.” 
“We’re going to the diner afterwards, right?” He asks, and it makes her smile widen. 
She knew it wasn’t disinterest from the boy that was leading to his questions, just the attention span of a child who was reaching his limit. He was just as excited about the wedding as Emily and Aaron were, even more excited that it was a secret, something just between them. 
“Yes, we’re going to the diner afterwards,” she confirms, wondering to herself what her mother would make of her having her wedding lunch in a diner where they made smiley face pancakes. “Even if they won’t recognise you in your nice suit instead of your soccer uniform.” she jokes, winking at him as he giggles.
“Applicants Hotchner and Prentiss?” The Judge says as he walks out of his chambers, a kind smile on his face. Emily feels Aaron squeeze her hand and she returns the affection before they stand together. 
“That’s us,” Aaron says
“I’m Judge Crane, if you’d like to follow me,” he says, leading them into his office, smiling at Jack as he follows Emily and Aaron, Jessica’s hand on the young boy’s back to guide him,
“Well hello, young man,” Judge Crane smiles down at him, “Am I helping your parents get married today?” 
“Oh, I’m not-” Emily starts, about to explain the very thing she had countless times to strangers since she and Aaron got together, but Jack cuts her off, a wide smile on his face. 
“My Dad and my Emily,” he says, making all the adults in the room smile and Emily feels tears pressing at the back of her eyes. 
“That’s lovely,” Judge Crane replies, looking up at Jessica, “If you two could stand at the back?” 
“Of course,” Jessica says, her hand on her nephew’s shoulder as she guides him towards the back of the room. 
“Now, let's get this show started,” Judge Crane says, standing behind his desk as Emily and Aaron stand on the other side. Aaron passes over the paperwork, and the judge looks over it, reading quickly, a sure sign he did this countless times a day. “I need to see some ID,” He adds without looking up, and Aaron and Emily both get their driving licenses out, already prepared for the question. Judge Crane takes them and briefly looks over them, before handing them back. “Ok this all seems to be in order, so let's get going.”
Aaron takes their driving licenses and pockets them both, before he reaches out for Emily’s hand, facing her as she turns to him. 
“We are here today to participate in a marital union, acting in conformity with the laws and regulations of the Commonwealth of Virginia,” Judge Crane says, reeling it off like it was just a normal day, which, Emily supposed, for him it was. “Since it is your intention to enter marriage, please join hands and respond accordingly, Do you,” he checks the paperwork again, making Aaron exchange a smile with his soon-to-be wife, “Aaron Hotchner, take Emily Prentiss to be your lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold from this day forward? Do you promise to be faithful to her, to love, honour, cherish, and respect as long as you both shall live?”
“I do,” Aaron says, all of his focus on her, on the future they were about to embark on. She feels her heart swell in her chest, as if it had to grow to make more room just to fit all the love she had for him inside. 
Judge Crane turns to Emily, “Your turn,” he smiles kindly, “Do you, Emily Prentiss, take Aaron Hotchner to be your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold from this day forward? Do you promise to be faithful to him, to love, honour, cherish, and respect as long as you both shall live?”
“I do,” she replies, her voice shaking as she does. She chokes out a sound that is a half laugh, and a half sob, shaking her head at herself for how her happiness was spilling out of her like this, her tears warm against her cheek. 
Aaron reaches out and wipes them away, successfully ignoring the tears on his own lashline. 
“Do you have rings?” Judge Crane asks, and Aaron nods at him, disentangling one of his hands from Emily’s to reach into his pocket, pulling out the box he had checked he had with him almost a dozen times since they left their house. 
He takes both of the rings out, the weight of them familiar in his hand, a ghost of a memory of a past life, a time when he had done with someone else. 
This time, he knew it would last forever. 
“Aaron, as you place the ring on Emily’s finger, please repeat after me: This ring I give in token and pledge, as a sign of my love and devotion. With this ring, I thee wed.” 
He smiles at her as he does it, his hand gentle as he holds hers, slipping the metal down her finger, the line of diamonds catching in the light. 
“This ring I give in token and pledge, as a sign of my love and devotion. With this ring, I thee wed,” he repeats, and this time his voice breaks. Emily smiles at him, reaching out and wiping tears from his cheek, returning the favour from just a minute before. 
“Your turn, Emily.” Judge Crane says, and Aaron hands over the ring and she takes it from him. 
She’s grateful that if he notices it, which she has no doubt that he does, Aaron doesn’t draw attention to how her hands shake as she slides the ring onto his finger, her voice surprisingly even as she repeats the same words back at him. Emily looks over to where Jack and Jessica are standing, sharing a smile with the latter as she sees her wipe a tear from her own cheek. 
Judge Crane stamps the paperwork in front of him with such ferocity it makes Emily jump, the loud noise briefly bringing her back to earth as she shares an amused smile with Aaron, turning to look at the man in front of them. 
“I need you to sign these,” he says, handing each of them a pen. They briefly separate from each other, both leaning down to sign the pieces of paper in front of them. Judge Crane picks them back up and smiles at them. “According to the laws of the Commonwealth of Virginia, I now declare you husband and wife.” 
Aaron leans in and kisses her, the action lost in her wide smile, their first kiss as husband and wife a clash of teeth and happiness in equal measure. She vaguely hears a small cheer from where Jack and Jessica are standing, quiet applause as the two of them clap, but it’s faint, as if behind a glass wall. All of her focus on her husband. 
She pulls back from him, her hand on his cheek and she smiles, leaning in to stamp another quick kiss against his lips. 
“I love you,” she says, her hand still on his cheek. 
“I love you too,” he repeats, kissing her again. 
“Congratulations,” Judge Crane says, the tone of his voice, and the smile on his face, telling them he wanted them out of his office. 
“Thank you,” Aaron says, squeezing Emily’s hand as he leads her out of the office, hearing the judge call out for the next couple as soon as they are out of the door. 
“What now?” Jack asks as soon as they are in the hallway, looking up at them. 
Aaron wraps his arm around Emily, his hand at her hip, and he squeezes. “We’ll go for lunch,” he says, leaning down to kiss her, unable to stop himself, “and then we’ll go from there.”
-x-
Tag list:
@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @sneetchestoo, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie
Join my tag list here!
70 notes · View notes
lover-of-mine · 6 months
Note
Just to clear some things about according to the Canon that private practice set (which I personally go by because that show is Amelia's origin story) Addison mentioned knowing Amelia when she was 12 which means the ages have to be.
- Amelia being around 12 when Derek was 22ish in medical school and met Addison and co. Which means there's 10 years between them
- Derek and Meredith are 12 years apart
- Amelia and Meredith being at the very most 3 years apart but realsitically only 2.
I think they just casted Caterina to play Amelia not really thinking that she would eventually become a Grey's main character so they didn't really think of casting an actor in relation to how old Meredith is meant to be. They did this again when casting ER Fightmaster who plays (or I suppose played assuming they aren't going o come back) kai who's apparently supposed to have only been a few years behind Amelia and John's Hopkins even though ER is only 31/32 to Caterina's 42 which means ER is playing a character at least 10 years older then they are.
Okay, grey's said Meredith was 5 in 1983, so she would have to be born in 1978, but they also had her wear a medical bracelet that had her date of birth as 1981. It's actually estimated that Amelia was born in 1979 since she's supposed to be 31 when she first appears, and apparently, her father died in 1984 when she was 5. I don't trust what they say about ages because they constantly forget details. Age and time on that show make no sense. Because I've also read that Derek is supposed to be 13 when their father dies, and if he's 13 and she's 5, there's a 7-year age gap. Since Derek is 12 years older than Mer, that logic puts 5 years between Amelia and Mer. If Mer was born in 79, that means Amelia needs to be born in 74 for that to make sense, but that would make 35 in her first appearance which doesn't add up, there's also the fact that that would make her an extremely high-risk pregnancy but that's literally never mentioned when she's pregnant. But there are also the people who say Derek was 15 when his father died, googling it right now tells me he was anything from 10 to 15, so logically Amelia is older, but if Amelia is not older than Meredith needs to be a lot younger in season one, but she took a gap year, so she needs to be at least than 26 in season one. Adisson says she's 39 without a baby when she leaves, and it's safe to assume Derek is her age, so that would make him 38 in season 1, with the 12-year gap that makes Mer 26, which is the expected age for a medical intern who took a gap year but that math puts her as being born 1979. Grey's is nowhere near as careful with ages as they should be. They have 19 seasons, and they have 2 spinoffs, and they constantly contradict themselves. We can discuss this in circles forever because there's no confirmed birthdate for any of them, so there is no truth.
0 notes
mona-stay · 3 years
Text
Secrets part 3 Peter Hale
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Paring - Peter Hale x Reader
Warnings - smut finally
Part 1. Part 2
Tumblr media
You drove straight to Derek’s, still feeling a little shaken up after what Theo had done. Outside Peters Shelby wasn’t there, you didn’t know if you were happy or sad not to see it. When you got inside to your surprise Peter was there sat reading his book. He’d actually agreed to car pool with you.
 
Stiles and Liam both cheered as you walk in, Stiles calling you a good luck charm after the win today. How you managed to get coach to listen to your ideas. For the next few hours you all laughed, talked, drank and ate.
 
It was at this point, Derek being one of the closest to you noticed your neck. “what happened” he said, Peter now in his feet coming over to see. You explain about Theo’s threat and how he tried to strangle you.
 
“I’m gonna kill the little runt” Peter said heading for the door. You grabbed his arm, stopping him.
 
“don’t, Stiles’ dad’s took him, Coach is having him expelled and if he’s stupid enough to back at me then you all have my permission to kill him. But for now can we just forget about it” you say to him. Peter clenches his jaw but agrees he’ll leave Theo to sheriff Stilinski for now.
You watch Peter return to his book as Lydia pulls you to one side asking to talk. Stepping away to a more private part of the loft you wait to see what’s wrong. “what’s going on with you and Peter?” she asks outright.
 
You blush “nothing, what do you mean?” you say coyly. Maybe you needed to tone down your stirring at the handsome wolf.
 
“I seen him today at the game, his arms around you before fighting with Theo. Are you two dating now?” she asks a little concerned.
 
Shaking your head no “that was to wind up Theo. Peters version of leave her alone I think, not like it worked” you told her, not really sure why Peter had started on Theo the way he did. “and besides even if I did like Peter, I don’t think he likes me like that”. You say looking down not letting her see the sadness you felt.
 
“oh, I doubt that. The way he is around you, looks at you. I think Peter likes you, I’ve always thought that especially after you saved him” she says.
 
You wished it was true but knew differently, you’d kissed him wanted more he told you no. “No, I think Peter just likes the game, I know he wouldn’t want me like that” you say hoping to end the conversation.
 
Lydia eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t question it. She looks over at Peter who watches y/n out the corner of his eye like he’d always done. She was going to ask him but knew Peter would never tell her the truth.
 
Peter sat just watching everyone else, what he always did when Scott used the loft for after games celebration. It was only pack members but for Peter it was still way too many.
 
He glanced over to y/n now she’d finished her chat with Lydia, he was about to gain your attention until Liam got it first asking her to dance. To Peter’s annoyance you agreed, going over to dance with him, Lydia, Stiles and Malia.
 
Peter growled watching as they young pups hands tried to move down your body. He found himself thinking how dare Liam touch what’s his, even if you wasn’t, its all Peter truly wanted. He hated even more you hadn’t stopped it. That you just moved slightly so he wasn’t touching anymore still laughing and dancing.
 
For the third time Liam’s hand come inches away from your ass. This time you decide not to move out of his way, nope you decide to see Peter’s reaction. Your eyes lock with his, he’s stirring with a snarl. You wink at him hoping to push him to come over do or say something but he doesn’t.  He gets up and walked to his old room. You sigh Peter hadn’t got jealous.
 
With Peter gone and the song finished you went to find something to drink. Everyone turned seeing the loft door open, Cory walked in scanning the room. Mason was happy to see about to give him a hug but Cory walked past him straight to Scott, his eyes flicking to you.
 
“Theo’s been arrested and he thinks Peter is up to something. He says Peters an alpha and y/n’s in danger” Cory blurted out. You sigh, it wouldn’t take Theo long to spill Peters secret.
 
Everyone looks at you, taking one or two breaths trying to keep your heart beat stable. “is this true” Scott asked.
 
“not as far as I know” you say hoping the wolfs wouldn’t notice the lie. After being with Theo you learned how to control some tell-tale signs of lying. “Theo has been arrested for trying to kill me” you tell Corey showing him your neck. So now he’s using lies, he knows I’m living in Peters and trying to find a way to turn you lot against him. Peter wouldn’t hurt me, in fact Peters been more respectful in the last two weeks than Theo has in two years. So what ever he’s told you Cory ignore it, I would.” You say hoping the rest believe you.
 
Derek agrees “y/n right Peter would never hurt her, yes he’d hurt a lot of people but I don’t think he’d do anything to her” he says knowing his uncles not so secret feelings for y/n. Although the Peter being an alpha was something Derek wasn’t sure about, it’s possible but surely he’d know.
 
Peter walks down the stairs “what have I meant to done now” he smirks. He’s eyes meet yours a small head tilt and smile tells you he’d heard what you said.
 
“Theo thinks your an alpha”  Scott says eyeing up Peter, arms folded, more or less asking the question without words.
 
“if I was Scott, you’d be dead” Peter jokes knowing they wouldn’t question it more. “anyway I’m ready to head home, y/n shall we your my lift” add.  You nod saying your goodbyes.
 
Once in the car Peter seemed quiet lost in his own thoughts. “thanks” he said eventually.
 
“what for?”  you asked not sure what he was thanking you for.
 
“keeping my secret. You didn’t have to lie for me but you did so thank you” he said.
 
You smiled, you had promised you’d keep his secret and did. Even if Theo knew the truth you still wouldn’t rat Peter out. “I keep my promises, I’m a good girl like that” you say.
 
Peter laughs but doesn’t look up at you. “I’m sorry Theo outed you” you say. Peter just shrugs it wasn’t your fault.
 
“sorry he tried to strangle you” he said, thinking he was party to blame for pushing Theo. Also making a mental note to kill him next time he saw him. You smile back saying wasn’t his fault.
Tumblr media
Back at the penthouse you walk in the door, as soon as it shuts you take your t-shirt off, showing of your sports bra. Dumping the top in the washing basket you say to Peter your getting in the shower. Giving him a full view of your body hoping after today he’d still be in a touchy mood.
 
Peter headed straight to his whiskey cabinet. His mixed feeling were getting the better of him, ten minutes ago he was jealous then seeing you lie for him made him love you so much more. And then your mini show for him then left almost nothing to his imagination.
 
 He downed his drink refilling it, tonight he was going put an end to this dam game once and for all. No matter what you decide he was done playing.
 
You come down after your shower in short pyjama shorts and top. You didn’t miss the way Peters eyes widened as you walk past swaying your hips.
 
You watch Peter, he seems off you’d noticed it since the game ended. You smirk a thought coming to your head a way get what you want and cheer him up.
 
You open the fridge, getting out a bottle of juice, choosing not to have alcohol so he can’t say your drunk this time. You stretch up high reaching for one of the glasses on the taller shelf, making little noises to get his attention. Once you have the glass you smile giving him a small wink but he didn’t smile back. He turns his head away.
 
You sigh, filling the glass you walk to where he’s sat, sitting on the arm of the chair. “you know sour wolf is Derek’s nickname. This kind of pouting doesn’t look good on you” you say, swinging your legs over his, one foot resting on the top of his thigh, your toes dangerously close to his package.
 
“what are you doing y/n” he asks, unsure what else to do with his mixed feelings right now.
 
“I’m hoping to put a smile on your face, plus I owe you a thank you for coming to the game today” you say moving your toes a little to tease him.
 
He sighed keeping his face straight “I think you should stop y/n” he tone was stern.
 
You look at him confused, the first night from the bar flashing back at you. Maybe you worry wasn’t for nothing, maybe he really didn’t want you.
 
“Trying to find a way to cheer you up, do you really want me to stop. Peter.” You say nudging your foot over his cock.
 
Peter grabbed your foot, “y/n stop, I can’t do this anymore” he said looking you in the eye. Seeing your smile fade he went on to explain. “I can’t play this game we’ve been playing. I thought I could but I can’t.” He says low
 
You didn’t speak, just watch as he runs his hand though his hair, thinking about what he wanted to say next “I can’t handle your looks, touches the way you act like you want me. I can’t handle you falling asleep on my knee and I certainly can’t handle carrying you to bed and it not being mine. Ever since we kissed that night after the bar, all I think about is how much I want you, how you should be mine. How foolish I was acting like the good guy, pushing you away say no because you were drunk and upset, when I should have been the selfish bad guy”
 
He’s words were cut off when you grab him, smashing your lips with his. He was surprised by your action and didn’t move, just closed his eyes enjoying the feeling of you on his lips.
 
You pull back biting back a smile “good, I don’t think I could of handled it any more too, I was hoping you would have said something sooner” you say. This time Peter kisses you, this one more passionate but still light and closed mouthed.
 
His hand slides up the outside of your leg finding your hip. “I promised you I wouldn’t sweetheart, that night I gave you a choice, if you still wanted me in the morning I’d take you to bed, or promise I’d never bring it up” he laughed as his fingers traces circles on your hips.
 
You giggle, almost forgetting he’d said that “then take me to bed Alpha” you playfully order.
 
Peter had other ideas, he pulled you off the arm of the chair onto his lap. Kissing and nipping at you neck “thought you’d never ask” he said flashing his eyes red, scooping you do he can stand with you still in place.
 
You playfully slap him before kissing and biting his jawline and neck. He carries you up the stairs to his room, finally getting the girl he’d wished for and this time he wasn’t going to let you slip away. Peter laid you on his bed gently, leaning over you stirring deep into your eyes “you definitely want this sweetheart?” he asked once last time. You didn’t answer with words. Capturing his lips on yours pulling him closer for more.
 
Peter grabbed the hem of your vest top, slowly sliding it up, his lips following the material until he reached your boobs. He nips and kisses the parts of your boos that isn’t hidden by your black lace bra as he pulls your top off completely.
 
“Peter” you moan. He smiles at you as he comes back for another fast, hungry passionate kiss. He didn’t care how much you beg, he was going to take his time. He was going to make sure you never wanted anyone else but him after tonight.
 
You watched Peter when he broke the kiss apart, pulling his own shirt over his head. You look over his chest, taking in every line, curve and  ripple that makes him. Leaning up on your elbows to get a better, fuller view of him as he started to undo his jeans.
 
You bit your lip, as he slowly slid them off tossing the behind him. He smirked “like what you see” he chuckled before sliding his hand up your legs pulling down your shorts leaving you in your underwear. This time it was Peters turn to admire you, his eyes raked up and down your body “beautiful” he said coming to kiss you.
 
Your hands went to his chest, trailing around his neck, as you pull the hair at the back of his head. Arching your back so he can unclasp your bra he throws it the away like he did his jeans. He leans back to look at you again before kissing your boob his and playing with the other one.
 
Running your hands across his shoulders, digging your nails in as he bites on your nipple rolling the hardened bud in his teeth. You could already feel how hard Peter is, his member pressing against the top of your thigh. You moved your hips to grind against him.
 
Peter took it as a hint, he gently let his fingers down your stomach, sending goose bumps over your skin. He rubbed your covered core making you moan, under his touch. He smiled feeling how wet you were for him, how your body reacted to him. His kisses follow the same path his hand had stopping just above your pantie line. He pulls them down not taking his eyes from yours.
 
He only looks away when there off and he kisses his way up your legs biting your inner thighs. You reach down tangling your fingers in his hair as he licks along clit. You hum and whine as he teases you with his tongue, wanting and needing more. “quit teasing please Peter” you say.
 
“only because you said please”  he chuckles, sliding a finger in you. Your hips buckle as he wastes no time finding the spots that make you cry his name. It wasn’t long before he adds a second. He let’s them explore you, taking in the places that make you moan and cry for him. Before bringing his tongue too your clit to increase the pleasure you felt.
 
Peter knew you were close and didn’t let up swapping his mouth for his thick thumb. “cum for me sweetheart, I want to see you come apart for me” he practically sang. Before you knew it you were pushed over the end, clenching around his fingers, screaming a mix of ‘oh god and Peter’
 
Peter brought his fingers to his lips humming as he licked your cum from them. Leaning over you he kisses you, you feel his tip at your entrance. He let’s it roll along your swollen lips and cups your cheek with his hand. “I’ve wanted this for so long sweetheart” he says lining himself up.
 
He slowly enters you, feeling bigger than you imagined filling and stretching you in the most amazing way. The growl he makes, almost animalistic once he’s deep as he can go. “fuck me Peter” you cry, you didn’t have to ask twice, for him to start moving.
 
Peter was anything but gentle and you loved it. His thrusts were hard and sharp, hitting spots and places you didn’t know existed. You wasn’t gentle too, if Peter didn’t heal, your own scratch marks would have been visible tomorrow.
 
You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and so could he. You whine a little as Peter pulls out but before you could moan any words. He flips you over so your now on your hands, entering you again with one fast hard thrust. Once he was settled inside you, he pulls you close so your back is pressed against his chest. His hands on your boobs kissing your neck, all you could do was reach up to grab his hair.
 
You moan his name loving the new position your in. He bucks his hips sending a new pleasure though you.  Trying to turn your head, a new wave of arousal filled your stomach seeing him, sweaty, sexy and those bright red eyes. “Peter, make me yours, bite me” you moan out on the verge of your next orgasm. “make me your little wolf, alpha”  you beg. His growl mixed with his dick hitting your g-spot sent you hurling into your orgasm.
 
Your walls clenching around him as he feels you cum on his dick, mixed with your words send Peter over the edge. His thrusts get sloppy but he doesn’t let up, the sound of you begging he let’s his teeth scratch lightly over your neck but resists the urge to sink then in as he cums deep inside you. “your amazing” he whispers, not caring if you heard or not as he slips out of you.
 
You fall on the bed, out of breath, worn out. Peter hands you a drink before pulling you into his arms. Kissing your head
 
**
You laid naked in Peters bed, his arms around you, holding you close. He kissed the top of your head as you made little soft murmurs in your sleep. He was still stunned last night actually happened, that you’d chosen him, asked and begged for him. He hoped it wasn’t a one time thing. He also hadn’t forgotten your high on sex driven request of becoming his beta, butting and turning her. He wasn’t gonna lie, the thought passed his mind. He almost caved as you clenched around him begging to be his, his little wolf.
 
Peter didn’t do it, almost for the same reason he didn’t sleep with you the first night you entered his penthouse. He worried you’d regret it the next day and hate him for it. He decided he would bring it up again in a few days see how you felt then
 
He smiles as your started to wake, “morning sweetheart” he says, bring his lips close to yours, kind of testing if it was a one night stand for you. To his delight you lean up kissing him. “breakfast? He asked.
 
You shook your head no holding him tighter “I don’t wanna move or you to move, I’m comfy like this” you say. Peter smirks letting himself settle. You stayed there almost an hour, sharing hugs and kisses before you had to get up to go the bathroom. Peter kisses you heading down the kitchen in his boxers.
 
You take a second to take in how yummy his ass looked in the tight silk. When you go down Peter had you a coffee ready. He wanted to bring up what last night meant, if it meant as much to you as it did to him.
 
After breakfast he’d mentally asked you 10 different ways all sounds as bad as the one before. “what’s on your mind?” you ask him noticing him stirring into space.
 
“did you mean what you about wanting to be mine?”  he asked out right, there was no other way to say it.
 
You pull yourself onto his lap looking him deep in the eyes “yes I meant it, I meant it all. I want to be with you, be your little wolf I want you peter” you say before kissing him.
 
He smiles a full happy, and slightly relieved smile. “good it’s all I want too” he says kissing your neck. He promised to bite you on the next full moon but until then you were happy just to be his girlfriend. “you know both Scott’s and Theo’s pack won’t be happy if I turn you” he joked.
 
You kiss him again, “I don’t care what they think,  I want it and I’m happy with you” you say reassuring him. You smirk “buyt until we find a way to tell them it can be our newest secret”
605 notes · View notes
mercy-burning · 3 years
Text
Move This Along
Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After months of waiting, Spencer decides he finally wants to have sex with Reader. Category: SMUT (18+) Warnings: Language, sex (oral sex- female receiving, virgin!Spence, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie) Word Count: 5.6k
Full Request: “...so a smutty oneshot with like virgin!spencer but im talkling like baby spence. and hes super blushy and cute but then when it happens its rlly raunchy and therws a lot of dirty talk. and like reader doesnt work at the bau but theyre close friends. and like she goes out to a bar with him and the team and they tease him so then she takes him home and literally fucks him after a movie or smth idk...” — @mggscumrag
MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST
NOTE: It took me forever to figure out how I wanted to do this, but once I did, it came out so quickly! I hope it’s to your liking 🥰
***
The first time she went out to meet Elle's friends from work, Y/N found herself absolutely nervous, and she wasn't sure why. She was always great with meeting new people, but for some reason, the prospect of meeting her next-door neighbor's co-workers seemed to really do a number on her.
She remembers how anxious she'd been, constantly worrying that they wouldn't like her, not to mention they were all probably super smart and strong and intimidating, just like Elle. Anyone who aided in putting away serial killers, rapists, and other monsters had to be just about the most intimidating personality there ever was.
But as Y/N soon learned, that wasn't quite the case at all.
To be fair, they were all intimidating in their own little ways, though it was really easy to forget about that when she was laughing with them, sharing drinks and stories, and exchanging phone numbers to stay in touch.
That's how she and Spencer had come to be good friends. Despite how obviously shy he was whenever they saw each other, the two of them managed to have conversations on just about everything. It usually happened that he talked and she listened to whatever he was teaching her, but she'd always add on the occasional, "Wow, I didn't know that," or "That's really fascinating." All of which she could tell he was surprised at and appreciated.
And since the first time they met at Elle's birthday party, the night she met the whole team for the first time, they'd been practically inseparable. While Y/N was good friends with the whole team, save for Gideon, who always seemed to like it better by himself, her relationship with Spencer seemed to even surpass the bond she'd built with her neighbor-slash-best friend.
Elle even told her as much one Saturday night, as the two of them were driving to the bar to meet up with everyone for a few drinks.
She'd mentioned it as a joke, but Y/N was instantly apologetic.
Elle only laughed. "Don't apologize. Actually, I think it's good that Reid has another friend outside of work. You're good for him. And you know, I think he has a little crush on you."
Warmth rushed to Y/N's cheeks, and she tried to hide it but failed miserably, causing Elle to give her a knowing smile. "Y—You don't know what you're talking about, Elle, it's not like that."
"Oh come on, it totally is. You give him the light of day when no one else does, he talks about you all the time, and everyone at work knows it."
She paused. "They... do?"
"Of course they do, we're all profilers, but it doesn't take one to see how obsessed that boy is with you. I think you should go for it."
Y/N would have been lying if she said she hadn't thought about asking him out. But in the end she had always figured it was a little weird, being that she was friends with all his and Elle's co-workers and she'd kinda been adopted into their family of sorts. But hearing what her neighbor was saying... She started to think differently about it.
"You really think so?"
Elle nodded. "Absolutely."'
"Okay," she replied with an excited smile. "Maybe I will, then."
A week later and the two of them started dating. Y/N always thinks back to the first few weeks of their relationship, how adorably shy and blush-prone Spencer was, even after they'd been together for some time. They spent almost all their free time together, and it still seemed like he was nervous to be around her. He'd assured her on multiple occasions that that wasn't the case, but Y/N still wondered why he hadn't fully warmed up to being around her.
Especially in public. Oh, in public it was worse. Y/N clung to his arm, and his face immediately got red. What confused her the most, though, was that every time she pulled away to make him more comfortable, he pulled her back in, seemingly desperate to feel her warmth.
In the end she and Spencer had grown to develop their own little communication system for public settings, something to let the other know when something was really wrong, and when to ask if the other was comfortable.
One night everyone was meeting after a rough case somewhere in Denver, and Y/N offered to buy everyone drinks once Spencer had called to tell her they were all back. It wasn't out of the ordinary for her to do that, but it had been a while, so everyone was quick to except. Well, mostly everyone— Gideon as per usual went his separate way, and Hotch was eager to get home and see his family.
Y/N was waiting for them at their favorite bar downtown when she heard a loud squeal that sounded a lot like her name. Sure enough, it was easy to spot a very yellow-clad Penelope Garcia headed straight towards her with her arms stretched out for a hug when she turned around. The smile she adorned was instantaneous as her arms came out a well, embracing Penelope with a large hug that almost knocked the wind out of her.
"I missed you!" she exclaimed, still hugging Y/N and swaying them back and forth a little. "I mean, I know I don't ever travel with the team, but because of that we should hang out more."
"Next time I need some company, I know who to call."
Y/N spotted Spencer then, behind Penelope and patiently waiting for a greeting. She smiled at him and whispered, "Hi," to which Penelope must have heard.
She quickly released her from their embrace and stepped out of the way. "Oh! I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from your boy wonder."
She laughed as she transferred from Penelope's arms to Spencer's. He muttered a little, "Hi," into her hair as she squeezed him and shoved her face into his neck. If she had to bet, he was probably red as a tomato right now with how close her mouth was to his neck—it was his weakness and she knew it. And just to tease him a little bit she quickly kissed up his neck, his jaw, and placed a decent peck on his lips before pulling away and grabbing his hand.
Despite the shy smile and the blush adorning his cheeks, he squeezed her hand tight and kept her at his side like they would die if they weren't touching at all times.
Everyone gave little greetings to Y/N as they all made their way to a large booth near the back. Y/N was sitting on one side with Elle to her right and Spencer to her left, while Derek, Penelope, and JJ sat across from them. Y/N got them all their preferred drinks, and a beer for herself, which Spencer couldn't help but find oddly attractive.
He glanced over at her as she took swigs from the bottle as the night progressed, and for whatever reason the sight made his insides all warm and tingly. And when she used her unoccupied hand to grab his under the table, rubbing gentle circles over the inside of his palm with her thumb, he'd never felt more in love with another person. He wasn't even drinking any alcohol, yet his head swam and his heart soared all the same, every bone in his body humming with euphoria at just the mere thought of her.
He must have been staring a little too obviously, because Derek kicked his leg under the table, pulling him from the lovesick daydream he never wanted to leave.
"I can't tell if those are cute ol' puppy dog eyes or bedroom eyes," Derek laughed, and everyone laughed right alongside him.
"Oh, stop it," Penelope said, swatting his arm. "He's obviously just very in love with her, what more could you need to know?"
"Oh, come on, tell me you're not curious to know how they... operate."
She smacked him harder this time, and everyone laughed.
Knowing her boyfriend didn't really care for the spotlight, especially when it came to their relationship, Y/N squeezed Spencer's hand under the table in reassurance. She drew a question mark in his palm, their signal for, "Are you uncomfortable?" And he responded by drawing an "X" in her palm, their answer for, "No." She laced their fingers together then, and set her beer down.
"Morgan, our sex life isn't any of your business," she stated simply.
Spencer felt his stomach churn at the sentence, if only because said sex life was, as of late, non-existent.
He and Y/N had made out a lot, sure, but the one time they did try having sex, he made it about ten seconds being inside of her before he finished, and since then he'd been kind of embarrassed about it. They only ever made out since then, because before it ever got that far he stopped it, nervous that he'd disappoint her.
And now his non-existent sex life was the topic of conversation, and if anyone picked up on it, he would have felt worse about the whole thing.
So, he didn't stop himself from speaking. "But if you must know, it's great."
Y/N's hand tensed up in his, and she looked over at him, shock marinating in her eyes. To anyone else it would have looked like she was surprised he'd even bring it up, but he knew she was most likely more curious to know why he'd lied about it.
Their friends laughed regardless, Elle adding a curious and joking, "Care to elaborate?"
Ready to change the subject, Spencer shook his head. "Nope."
"Yeah, actually I think we're gonna head out early," Y/N added. Spencer was suddenly worried he'd made her upset, but she rubbed gentle circles into his hand that reassured him everything was okay.
He got out of the booth and Y/N followed, as their friends grumbled.
"Oh, come on, we didn't mean to embarrass you guys," Derek said.
"No, that's not it," Y/N said as she threw on a light jacket. "You just reminded me how much I'd like to operate with my boyfriend since I haven't seen him in a few days, so we're leaving. Have a good night."
Spencer felt searing heat rise to his cheeks as he turned around and ushered Y/N out the door, accompanied by low whistles and claps from their friends.
***
The two of them were sitting on the couch now, Y/N having just set down a couple classes of water.
"Sorry if you wanted to stay," she said quietly, playing with her thumbs. "You know we don't... actually have to operate if you don't want, obviously, I was just looking for something to say..."
"Oh, Y/N, I know. Don't worry about it. Really, I... I was the one who even brought it up, I should have just let you handle it."
She looked up at him with a small smile. "Why.. did you bring it up anyway?"
"Well, I... I guess I just felt embarrassed. And I know what we do together isn't any of their business, but I was just... I really was thinking about how much I love you, and when Morgan brought it up, I felt like I wasn't... living up? To your expectations? I don't..." He sighed, unsure how to properly articulate how he was feeling. "I don't know. I just thought about the last time we tried having sex, and I felt embarrassed about it, that's all."
"Oh, honey," Y/N cooed, scooting closer to him and bringing her hand up to brush some of the hair from his face. "You know, you... don't have anything to prove, right? I know how much you love me, and you don't need to be having sex with me to show me, I hope you know that."
Still, he couldn't bring himself to look at her face. "I do," he choked out, pulling at the hem of his shirt. "I'm... I'm sorry."
Y/N's tongue clicked, and she leaned into him, wrapping one of her arms around his neck and placing the other across his lap. She held him tight and kissed the side of his head. "Don't you ever be sorry, unless you cheat on me. Then there will be something to be sorry about."
He laughed at her joke, turning his head to brush his nose against hers. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she whispered, giving him the lightest of kisses on the lips.
When she pulled away, he leaned in again, kissing her a little harder, and she gladly reciprocated. With every passing second, all of his worries started to melt away like the snow to her sunshine. Within every kiss was an emanation of outpouring love and comfort that warmed his soul and gave him the confidence to try something bold.
His hands threaded through her hair as he drew her in closer, and instinctively, she climbed over his lap, resting her hands on his shoulders as he gently probed her mouth with his tongue. The sound of her sigh as she opened up to him and allowed him to fully explore her mouth with his made his stomach bubble and tense.
This would be about the time where he'd stop, telling Y/N that they should slow down, and she'd sweetly oblige and stay cuddled into his side as they drifted off to sleep.
But tonight he didn't want that.
Tonight he wanted more.
While one of his hands remained in her hair, gently massaging her scalp, the other snaked down to her lower back. He gently slid his fingers under the fabric of her shirt and pressed his palm flat against her, pulling her closer to him with a desperation that both shocked and excited her.
Deciding to test the waters, Y/N rolled her hips, feeling him jump slightly underneath her, followed by a whine that vibrated her mouth and sent a low hum of pressure through her stomach.
Still, she pulled away.
Well... She tried to.
When she pulled her face away from him, Spencer used the hand in her hair to bring her back, tilting his head in the other direction and continuing to kiss her with enough passion for the both of them. And it didn't help that the sound she made when he did it spurred him on. She whimpered loudly into his mouth, and the hand on her back involuntarily slid down to grab her ass.
"Hey," she managed to get out when he pulled away momentarily for air. "Hey, you don't... We don't have to really do this if you don't want. I—I don't want you to think that what happened earlier means we have to have sex."
"Y/N..." His hand gently kneaded her ass, and against her better judgement, she rolled her hips again, sighing out against his lips. "I don't want to put it off any longer... Really, I... I want to. I want to show you how much I love you."
She kissed him softly again, bringing both of her hands up to cradle his face. "You already do. Every day."
She was giving him an out, and Spencer appreciated it. But with the way his insides were practically melting away at her presence, he knew more than anything that this was what he wanted.
"I know," he said. "But if you don't mind, today I'd like to show you a little extra." And then he kissed her deeply again.
Her hands tightened on his face, right before they slid up and through his hair. She gently tugged at it, and he let out one of the most delicious sounds she'd ever heard. For future reference, she relished in that sound, in that feeling, and made a mental note to try it out some more when they got further along in their sexual path.
But tonight, she would let him call the shots. He was finally ready to try it again, and seeing how confident he grew in his touches and kisses when she submitted to him, it was the simplest decision.
So she remained on his lap until he made another move, encouraging him with whimpers and languid rolls of her hips against his. Her hands grew frenzied in his hair when he dipped his hand past the waistband of her jeans and underwear, sticking his fingers in only about a knuckle deep. The warmth of his hands against her bare skin sent shivers down her spine, which she let show by involuntarily grinding down on his lap.
Spencer groaned deeply more than whined this time, his grip on her hands gripping tighter to her backside. He forced himself to remove his mouth from hers long enough to breathe out, "Bedroom. Please."
As much as Y/N didn't want to get off of his lap, she knew that what waited for her in the bedroom would be worth the momentary loss of complete physical contact. So she peeled herself away from her boyfriend, grabbing him by the hand, and lead him to her bedroom.
Once the door was closed, he was on her again, caging her face between his large hands and capturing her lips in another heated kiss. They moved backwards until she hit her back against the door, and the second their movement stopped, Spencer used their standing position to press his full body weight into her, their legs tangling together.
Meanwhile, Y/N was trying to figure out where to put her hands. She wanted to brace them on his chest, but it was pressed tightly against hers. So they wandered over his back, but she couldn't decide whether to place them under his shirt or on his butt. Or maybe she wanted to grip his arms to feel the veins as they strained against his skin from holding her face. The possibilities were quite endless.
So endless that they were even surprising—Spencer noticed her wandering hands and promptly decided to place them where he wanted, which was apparently above her head. He removed his hands from her face and pinned her wrists to the door above her head, and she huffed a breath as he pulled away to speak.
"Is this okay? I wasn't too... too rough?"
The concern swimming in his lust-filled eyes drew a little whimper from her throat as she struggled to find the right words. But finally, she settled on, "That was so fucking hot..."
Relief flashed over his gaze right before he grinned. His fingers flexed against her wrists, and even though she couldn't see them, she could imagine how it looked. And it really was fucking hot.
Seeing the expression on her face, Spencer leaned forward again and kissed her one last time. Their lips moved together hungrily, dancing in perfect synchronization, the music being the frantic beating of their hearts.
And then he started to trail his kisses down her jaw and neck, keeping her hands firmly pinned to the door. Usually she was the one to explore his neck with her tongue and teeth, but this time he wanted to try it for himself. Mirroring what he'd felt her do to him hundreds of times over, he soaked in every single sound she made, from the little whimpers of pleasure to the soft, choked whispers of his name dancing over her lips. And when her hips canted forward, searching for any kind of friction, he decided to grant it to her.
As his kisses moved down along her collarbone, his hands gently slid down with him, over her arms and then down to the bottom of her shirt as he kneeled in front of her. He lifted the shirt slowly, each new inch of exposed skin being met with soft kisses until it reached her breasts. He reached up to palm them over her bra while he trailed his kisses downward again.
Even though she was wearing jeans, he pressed kisses to her legs anyway. She squirmed under his touch, and the feeling made his heart soar.
"Please, Spence," she huffed, bringing her hands down to lay overtop of his. She felt the tendons and veins in his hands as they squeezed her, and with everything she had, she tried not to beg him to use them in more interesting places. She wanted to let him take his time, to be a vessel for his exploration, but it was growing harder every second to be patient.
Thankfully he seemed to get what she was feeling, because his hands slid out from under her shirt and rested at her jeans. "Can I take these off?"
The fact that he even asked when she so clearly begged him to do it made her heart swell. "Please do," she chuckled, though it turned into a choked sigh when his fingers actually started undoing the button. And at the sound of her zipper going down, she could have come undone right there.
He pulled her jeans down slowly and helped her step out of them. And she thought maybe he'd take the next step and do the same with her underwear, but he opted to use his mouth instead.
With gentle kisses, he traced the hem of the fabric all the way to either side of her waist. And then he looked up at her with curious eyes and shifted his face, pressing his nose right up against where her clit would be. Her hands immediately went to his hair, but he grabbed her wrists again and laid them at her sides. "Do you want me to move this along?" His voice wasn't teasing as much as it was genuine curiosity.
Still, Y/N resisted the urge to tell him yes. "I—I want you to do whatever feels right. Tonight's... about you. What you want."
"Well, what I want is to make you feel good. So, again... Do you want me to move this along?"
Every time his lips moved, they brushed up against where she desperately wanted him. And it was killing her. So, she nodded vigorously. "Yes, please," she whispered.
And with that, Spencer released her hands and used his fingers to gently rub her over the fabric. The contact made her shiver visibly, and he took that as a good sign. So he wasted no more time and replaced his fingers with his tongue, fluttering his eyes closed at the taste of her. And he knew that once the thin fabric was gone it would be stronger, but even then he was thoroughly wrecked.
He kept lapping his tongue over her, feeling her panties get wetter with ever second, and he only finally removed them when she started grinding her hips closer to his face, desperate for more.
When he did finally bring his tongue to fully taste her for the first time, they both let out the filthiest sounds, months and months of build-up starting to come to a head. He tasted her like he would an ice cream cone, and for the first few moments his eyes remained closed, all his focus on this brand new sensation. But he wanted nothing more than to see her react to him. So he opened his eyes and continued his ministrations, pupils blowing wide at the sight of her above him.
She was panting, her mouth hung open and her tongue just barely peeking out over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained shut, though Spencer could tell she was struggling to open them. With a tentative flick of his tongue over her clit, he took notice of the little gasp she made, and he knew he'd found it. So he repeated his action, providing small kitten licks to her clit as she picked up her breathing and clenched her hands at her sides.
He picked up the pace then, taking note of every little thing that made her cry out or jump with pleasure until she was clutching his hair. He was sucking on her clit now, his middle finger gently sliding in and out of her when she spoke.
"Oh, fuck, keep doing that. I'm... I'm almost..."
He felt her tighten around his finger as she started careening off the edge, and he did his best to keep his eyes on her face, because it had practically been haunting him, wondering what it would be like to see her come undone at his mercy.
To say it was better than he could have ever dreamed was a severe understatement.
Y/N's head leaned back against the door, her chin jutted out so he could see the beautiful contours of her chin and neck. He saw her throat contract as she moaned out his name, saw her chest heave as she struggled to catch her breath, and best of all, he felt her flutter around his finger and mouth. And if that was high inducing, he couldn't wait to feel wat it would be like to replace them with something else.
The mere thought had him trembling.
He pulled back when she huffed out an over-stimulated, "Okay, please, please stop, oh..."
Though it could just as easily have been a painful sentiment, the hungry, dazed look in her eye suggested otherwise.
Spencer stood up and brought his finger to his mouth, still caught up in her taste before she ripped his wrist away and kissed him, threading her fingers through his hair and moaning into his mouth.
Before he could get lost in it, though, she pulled away and nodded. "Okay. I think you're wearing too many clothes."
He tilted his head down in a little flush, and with the help of Y/N, his shirt peeled away from his body and joined her pants and underwear on the floor.
Y/N mirrored his actions, kissing gently down his jaw, neck, and then down his torso. Her hands wandered his bare back as she sunk to her knees. But when her hands moved to his belt, he stopped her.
"W—wait."
She peeled her hands away and looked up at him. "Are you okay? Do you want to slow down?"
He visibly swallowed, and she could read that look on his face that he got whenever he was embarrassed to tell her something. "N—no, I... I want... the opposite, actually."
"I don't follow..."
"Well, I know that... if you return the favor, I won't last very long, a—and I... I don't want to wait anymore."
Y/N smiled, standing again and bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders. "So you're saying you... want me to move this along?"
Spencer smiled at her recollection of his words. "Yes, please."
They travelled to the bed then, Y/N taking off her shirt and bra when they got there, and leaving her completely bare to him. She sat down and reached for his belt, looking up at him as he stood.
"I'm clean and on birth control, do you still want to use a condom? I have some in my table drawer."
He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "As long as you're sure."
Y/N undid his belt quickly and threw it to the side, making work of his button and zipper with a smile. "Oh I'm so sure..."
The way she said it made his dick twitch, images running through his mind of how it would look seeing her filled and dripping with—
Her hand was palming him through his underwear now, and it was all he could think about. He had already been hard before, but now it was tilting on the precipice of painful pleasure. So he stopped her, taking a deep breath.
"Lay down?"
"However you want me," Y/N answered, positioning herself on the bed so she was leaning back, her head nicely laid out on the pillows.
Spencer swallowed and removed his underwear before climbing on the bed and kneeling over her. Her legs were already wide, feet flat on either side of him as he positioned himself and got ready.
She reached out and gently grabbed his forearm, a gentle smile on her face. "You ready?"
"Mhm," he answered with a curt nod, bringing himself forward to run the head of his dick through her wetness. They both sighed at the feeling, and Spencer knew he was in trouble.
It was finally happening, he was getting another chance to have sex with her, and if he didn't last long again, he was going to—
"I love you," Y/N said reassuringly, rubbing circles into the hand that rested on the inside of her thigh.
He looked into her eyes and saw that love radiating from them. It warmed his insides and gave him the confidence he needed to finally, slowly push into her as he whispered, "I love you, too."
Once he was fully sheathed inside her, he let out a large breath, leaning down to brace his arms on either side of her head. The pressure of her clenched around him was overwhelming in the best way possible, and he never wanted to move.
But he had to.
She stroked his hair, pressing soft kisses all over his face, and whispered, "I love you."
With those three words, Spencer had the courage to pull back and then forward again, testing the waters and more accurately, his limits. He picked up a slow pace that burned him from the inside out, every muscle and vein in his body on fire with the knowledge that he was finally, properly making love to the woman he was pretty sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
But he was holding back. Y/N could tell. He glided through her with ease, sure, but his eyes were squeezed shut like he was concentrating, like he was pacing himself and trying to hold on to this feeling.
She moved her hands down to his back and lightly ran her fingernails over the skin, feeling him tremble under her touch.
"You feel so good, Spence," she whispered. "So perfect for me..."
The words made his hips stutter just a little, and Y/N knew then what the hesitation was.
He wanted to go faster.
So she moved her fingers lower, cupping his ass and scratching featherlight circles into the skin as she moaned. "You like when I talk to you, baby? Does hearing my voice help you out?"
Spencer choked out a groan as he opened his eyes and saw how feral she looked. Her pupils were blown wide, her mouth was pouted cutely, and she smiled as soon as she saw him bite his lip.
"You wanna go faster?" she cooed, digging her fingernails a little harder into the flesh of his ass. "Hmm?"
"F—fuck, Y/N... I..."
"You fuck me however you need to, baby. Don't hold back. Just let it all out."
He groaned out then, his hips picking up speed. She felt the relief and the tension rolling off his body as he finally gave into his urges, and it was just about the sexiest thing she'd ever witnessed.
"That's it, baby... Don't stop... Give it to me, let me feel you..."
He leaned down and kissed her then, pumping into her harder and harder with every second. She moaned out against his mouth, swallowing all his breaths and grunts. Meanwhile her fingers gripped his ass harder, relishing in the feeling of his muscles as they aided in fucking her.
His mouth pulled away as he shoved his face into her neck, and she sighed. "You're doing so good, baby. Fuck... " His hips kept moving, and she clenched around him hard, hoping to gauge his reaction.
Sure enough, he groaned against her neck and canted his hips harder. Every thrust forward now was so deep he hit her g-spot, and the sensation made her sigh with a smile. "That's fucking right, baby... Just like that, don't stop, don't stop. You fe—el so... ohhh."
Her words lit this fire in him that was impossible to put out. His body was hers for the taking, and so he'd give her everything he had. Which is why he picked up the pace and fucked into her as hard as he could, dangerously close to finishing.
"Fuck, Spence, I'm gonna... —na..."
Y/n's moans turned into a quiet scream as she came, clenching tightly around his dick and digging her fingernails into his ass. Her eyes squeezed shut with the swirling patterns of fireworks exploding behind them, meanwhile he twitched inside of her and lost it at last. As she came down, she helped him hold himself there, deep inside her as his cum spilled over in warm increments. They both moaned out at the feeling, all their tension easing and dissipating.
By the end, all that was left between the both of them was a thin sheen of sweat and murmured promises of "I love you."
They could have fallen asleep right there. Y/N's hands slid up his backside, over his arms, and then to the back of his head, combing gently through his disheveled hair as he pressed loving kisses to the patch of skin where her neck met her collarbone. He was still inside her, unwilling to leave the warmth she provided, and she did nothing to object.
"How are you feeling?" she finally asked, opening her eyes.
Spencer tilted his head up to look at her, his heart once again swelling at the adoring look in her eyes. "I'm great."
She laughed, and he laughed with her. And they were silent for a few moments before he spoke again.
"So, uh... What we just did is what we're counting as our real first time together, right? Like, the other time doesn't count?"
Y/N laughed again, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "If you want to count this as our first time, then yes. I'd be more than happy to agree with you."
"Good. This was much better."
Even though she would never hold their first first time together against him, she was inclined to agree.
PERMANENT TAGLIST:  @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes  @s1utformgg @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud
TAGS NOT WORKING: @takeyourleap-of-faith @emilyprentisslittlewhore
If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment, and I’ll add you!
719 notes · View notes
asterekmess · 3 years
Note
Been seeing you getting hate mail and while I absolutely can't understand why anyone would go to all the trouble to make some one else feel bad... I also kinda really love the discourse on Scott? Like YOUR RANTS oh man. On point. Always. Tbh I tried giving Scott a chance... He is the main char after all... But I was like??? Wtf? That dude does nothing but refute others and does whatever he wants. And this was when I didn't particularly like Stiles either (first time watching Teen Wolf). But then I got to know more of him and like Tony he went asshole to lovable asshole—seriously, Stiles might not be the ‘nicest’ but he tries and his heart is in good place—while Scott is just... self-righteous. Someone pointed out that he sees people as possessions and that irks me too that I can actually see it being true. The dude has literally nothing going on except for being the one that gets bitten. And the Romeo-and-Juliet-esque romance he has.
Okay, okay, where was I going with this?? Right. LOVE YOUR RANTS. People need to understand that Scott not being liked isn't because of his race or anything trivial like it—he just happens to be—but because of his actions. Or inactions, as it were. *remembers the pool scene and Scott saying he's busy and resists the urge to chuck a shoe at him*
Basically, love you, love your work, and love your words! ❤️
I've talked with some friends about it, and our number one issue sort of...boiled down to the hypocrisy of the show? I....sort of rant a lot here, and I would add a Read More, but I can't find the option anymore?? I fucking hate Tumblr. EDIT: I found a post that told me how to do it!
So, since he's the character I focus on the most, let's talk about Stiles' morality. Because, you're right. Stiles is an asshole. He does some fucking awful shit in the first season, and even if he had a Reason to do it, it was still bad. And I still don't like it. But I understand it.
Stiles' lack of shits about what is 'lawful' is literally established in the first ten seconds of the show. He's a sheriff's son who sneaks onto people's roofs in the middle of the night bc they aren't answering his calls, who listens in on his dad's work conversations and is willing to fuck up a crime scene because he's so excited about getting to see a dead body. He doesn't care about laws. He doesn't even care about most basic manners (invasion of privacy much, with having Scott sniff Lydia to see if she liked him?). He's a dickhead, even to the people he cares about sometimes. But personality and morality aren't the same. Stiles' entire actual morality system is based around whatever he needs to do to keep the people he loves safe and happy. Lying to his dad so he doesn't get murdered by hunters? Totally fine. Telling Scott that it was "Jackson's own fault" that Scott attacked him with superstrength and dislocated his shoulder, so Scott doesn't feel like an asshole? That's just best friend duties! He will lie, steal, cheat, and he will kill to keep his loved ones safe (let's not forget this boy threw molotovs at Peter, knowing damn well what they would do to him). We can headcanon all we want about all the different people who are in this group of loved ones, but the list is canonically very short: Scott, his dad, and Lydia. Later on, like, past s3B? It includes Derek. Canonically. Stiles puts his life and the lives of others he cares about on the line while he lies to the matriarch of the Calavera hunter clan, to save Derek Hale. Derek is just canonically a part of that group now, and he fucking knows it bc Stiles is his anchor (that's canon too bb). End of Story, Sterek or no Sterek. It's why we get that insane number of lookbacks when Derek is dying before his evolution. Because Stiles is being forced to choose between two people who are BOTH in his ride-or-die group. He Cannot Pick between Scott and Derek, until Derek begs him to leave.
SO, yes, Stiles does fuckface things, and I don't always agree with what he does, but it is ACCURATE TO HIS CHARACTER. He is morally grey. He NEVER CLAIMS to be pure or good or just or righteous. Stiles knows who he is, and he stays true to himself. And I love him for that.
The same goes for a bunch of other characters! For Peter, who is strikingly similar to Stiles, in that family goes above literally everything. Screw the idea that he was following Derek around waiting for the chance to steal back the Alpha spark. That man put his life on the line (his second life, no less) to get the shit beaten out of him until Derek let him help save Derek's life Again and Again. Family Comes First.
Scott's morality is...confusing as fuck. I thought at first he was similar to Stiles, in that family came first, but...while he's protective of his mother, he also does a lot of stuff that puts her at risk without seeming to care/worry (like leaving Peter alone with her once Stiles hits their car, so he can chase Jackson) (or asking her to come to the high school when he's convinced there's a bomber in it)? Seriously, he's more protective over Allison, than his mother. It's very black and white the rest of the time. Very "this bad" "this good." And if you do "bad" then you are bad forever, while if you do "good" you are only good until you do "bad." The Betas were "good" until they asked for the bite, and then they were "Bad." Derek was "bad" when Scott met him and scared him, so after that, no matter how much "good" he did, he remained "bad." But only when it suits him. Allison is good even when she does bad, because he wants her to be good. Chris is good even though he's done mountains of bad, because of the minuscule amount of good that Scott has seen him do, because Scott wants him to be good. Even DEUCALION is good, despite the crazy CRAZY amount of bad he's done and despite having seen him do NO GOOD, just because Scott wants him to be good. Lying to those closest to you is bad, unless Scott is doing it, and then it's good, because he knows HE is good. Killing people is bad, unless Scott is doing it. Letting villains go is bad, unless Scott is doing it. Biting people is bad, unless Scott is doing it. Protecting family is good even if it requires killing or lying, unless it's not Scott doing it. Revenge for past slights is good, unless it's not SCOTT doing it. And you try to understand it! You try to say, okay, then he's morally grey, got it. He plays with the rules to suit his own morality, whatever. Except that Scott, the other characters, and THE SHOW ITSELF, are all telling you otherwise! They all say that Scott is morally pure. That he is good and righteous and lawful. That he always does the "right" thing, and that when he does "bad" things, it's justified and he had to. THE HEAVENS THEMSELVES say Scott is somehow better or more righteous than the other characters by MAKING HIM AN ALPHA OUT OF NOWHERE. (I'm talking abt canon here, not going into deaton conspiracy theories) It's like....Like in the hate mail response I did, where I pointed out that Every Single Thing people get angry at Derek for doing, Scott did too. Lying, killing (or at least attempting it), attacking innocents, losing his temper, keeping secrets, refusing to work with someone who could help, etc etc etc. Everything Derek has done that is morally "wrong," Scott has also done. And that's okay! Doing a bad thing doesn't make you a bad person, and even if it did, Scott is ALLOWED to be bad! GO FOR IT.
Except that he is sinless. It isn't that he learns from the bad things he does, it's that they aren't treated like bad things in the first place. Because Scott did it, and Scott always does the right thing.
Derek's behavior is reprehensible at times, but the show ADMITS that and frames it as bad. Frames it as him doing a bad thing when he scares Isaac or throws Peter or tells Erica who to date. And that's fine, because Derek is established as not being morally pure.
But SCOTT IS. And because they were so desperate to make him continue being "Pure" they didn't frame the things he did as wrong, or if they did, they absolved him of it immediately, using the exact same reasoning that works for Derek's situations, but this time Actually Accepting it.
He scares Stiles, well it's because he's scared. He throws Isaac, it's because he's upset. He attacks Jackson well it's because Jackson was being a dick. He orders Allison to date Matt, well he had a goal to accomplish. Every reason is treated like a fucking doctor's note that erases the bad things he does.
Being scared, or angry, or retaliating to someone being an asshole, or trying to protect himself, was NEVER a good enough reason for Derek to do ANYTHING "Bad." It was never an acceptable excuse.
IF IT WERE: If the show were making a statement about how fallable people are, how they do bad things, but they do them for a REASON. How people will do wild and terrible things out of fear, and how that doesn't make it less bad, but it makes it understandable, so don't demonize them out of nowhere. If that were the case, I would HAVE BEEN FINE WITH IT.
Scott is held to COMPLETELY different standards than everyone else in the show! And I DON'T mean that people held him to higher ones. They dropped that bar so fucking low. Anything was allowed, and any excuse was good enough.
He made out with a girl who was dating someone else, who his best friend was in love with? It's just the full moon, he's angsty about losing Allison. He ducttapes Liam to a bathtub and starts throwing random phrases at him that he hated Derek for saying to him? He's freaked out! He doesn't know what to do with a bitten wolf! It was an accident! He works with a mass murderer behind people's backs without telling them the whole story? Am I talking about Gerard or Deucalion? Who fucking knows. Either way, it's okay, because he was protecting his family. He plots to murder a cancer patient slowly and painfully by replacing meds that likely included painkillers with mountain ash, and the uses someone else's body to deliver the killing blow, and it's okay because he was just being smart! He was just working ten steps ahead! He was saving his mom and the whole town! Who cares if it DIDN"T WORK?
He walks into his ex-girlfriend's hotel room and scares the SHIT out of her while she's naked and alone in the shower? It was the wolfsbane. It doesn't matter that no one else's impulses included HARASSING someone. He lies to his girlfriend's face about her own life because he doesn't think it's important enough for her to know (who am I talking about, come on, take a guess, which one is it? Allison or Kira? Trick question: it's both). He was just being kind! He didn't want to worry her! He didn't want to make her feel bad! She didn't need to know!
I'm so far off track it's not even funny. My point was that Everything the other characters in the show are demonized for or framed as evil or bad or wrong for doing, Scott is shown to do and it's treated like at minimum a comedy, if not a Perfect Brilliant Strategic Move.
God, fucking hell. I mean, the PARALLELS you see in this show, between Scott and others. The scene of Alexander Argent going to the hotel after being bit? That bit where he pulls his shirt up in the mirror? It's a near PERFECT replica of Scott looking at his bite at Deaton's. They paralleled SCOTT MCCALL with AN ARGENT. Deaton has this whole line in S2 where he's bitching at Derek about "the person you should trust the most doesn't trust you at all" And then seasons later, we have Scott look his best friend in the eye and refuse to trust him, only to get upset later because Stiles doesn't want to work with him anymore and he "lost them." Scott goes running into Derek's house in S1 to accuse him of killing the bus driver, and when he can't get a real response, he EGGS HIM ON by accusing him of Murdering his SISTER, just to get Derek to react. Which is the EXACT same thing Kate did when she showed up and wanted Derek to lose his temper. Scott is CONSTANTLY paralleled with villains and assholes, and constantly does the things that others are persecuted for. But instead of feeling regret or learning something from it, instead of growing AT ALL. Those actions are treated as good. We are told they are righteous. And clever. That they are what heroes do. AND YES: There are parallels between Derek and Stiles' behaviors and villains/morally grey characters! Of course there are!
BUT THEY AREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THE TRUE ALPHA MAIN CHARACTER. SCOTT IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE GOOD GUY. HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO MIMIC/EMULATE THE VILLAINS, AND HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE REWARDED WHEN HE DOES IT ANYWAY.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again; I understand the urge to think that the Teen Wolf writers did all of this on purpose. That they built Scott up as an unreliable narrator, so that we're forced to come to terms with a protagonist who isn't good, and we watch them fall into a villainous role while thinking all the while they are a hero. That all these parallels are intentional and the writers just couldn't Tell us what was going on bc they didn't have enough power.
And sometimes I play into it. I will lie to myself about Scott being the 'narrator' of the entire show, and that we're seeing it all through his eyes so of course things are biased and conflicting, just so I can actually Enjoy watching it.
But I think it's absolute bullshit that this was done on purpose. It wasn't. The parallels appeared because they Wanted Scott to do the badass things that they had all the villains doing, throwing people and being sneaky and clever, and stopping the bad guy, and they didn't want to deal with the fact that they were having him do bad things. So they just pretended he wasn't and refused to acknowledge that they'd already punished other people for doing the same exact shit, but somehow Scott was getting rewarded. They wanted Scott to be the hero, so they made him the hero, and screw everybody else.
241 notes · View notes
Forever is the Sweetest Con
authors note: this is my first fic! please tell me anything that i should improve on here to make it better visually. let’s just pretend that cowboy like me already exists in like 2012 so this timeline adds up. i also use the case from seven seconds because that’s my favorite episode.
summary:  after a successful case, which is hard to come by the BAU, the team (season 3 team) celebrates with drinks at the bar. things go arise when penelope convinces a normally reserved y/n to sing karaoke. 
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader 
category: major fluff/song fic-ish (cowboy like me) 
warnings: romantic affection, buzzed reader & spencer kissing
word count: 4054
masterlist: click me! 
Successful cases seemed like an oxymoron to Spencer, there was always someone left with a lifetime worth of trauma, someone left forever marred by the worst humanity has to offer, someone will simply never be the same person again. The team filed back into the bullpen with the kind of exhaustion that is native only to cases involving children. It was a local case, a young girl’s innocence and trust was stripped from her. Spencer’s thoughts are with that little girl and her cousin as he rubs his eyes in an attempt to make sense of the pain and suffering that was out in the world just waiting for him to catch up. 
“Not, ah, Spencer. We’re going out” Derek chimed from his desk. His feet were relaxed on the top of his desk and his hands rested behind his head. 
“Really, Morgan. I’m just so exhausted-” Spencer started but was conveniently interrupted by newcomers to the conversation. 
“Are you kidding me y/n!” Garcia’s shocked tone picked up both Spencer and Derek’s interest and the pair turned to the colorfully dressed tech expert and her uncomfortable looking companion, Y/N. 
Spencer made eye contact with y/n and, well, immediately regretted the action. Her uncertain demeanor quickly changed to a playful glance when his eyes met hers. 
“Garcia! You know me. Zeb and I we’re home bodies. But maybe this once, I’ll go crazy!” 
Spencer’s tired disposition seemed to shift at the sight before him. They made eye contact as their ears were assaulted by Penelope’s thrilled celebration. 
“But, I’m going to need a ride.” She let out a small chuckle and before he can even control himself Spencer found himself stumbling over his words. 
“I can bring you, y/n. I’ll drive you and you can drink if you like. I don’t really drink as it is” Spencer knew to immediately avoid looking at Derek, who was grinning like he had caught a kid with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Spencer, you are my hero!” She put her hands on either side of his shoulders. Through the padding of the tweed suit jacket, Spencer’s skin tingled. He did not trust himself to respond so he settled on giving her a small, tight, and straight mouthed smile.
“Yes!!” Penelope cheered from her spot on Spencer’s right. 
________________________________________________________________
Never did Spencer Reid think, he’d be looking forward to going out to a germ infested, loud bar full of macho men trying to prove themselves to girls. But sitting in his Volvo with y/n he was nothing short of ecstatic. 
“So y/n, you mentioned--” How was he supposed to ask this? Zeb was such a strange name, maybe it’s not….
“Spencer! Hey, I’ve been trying to get your attention. You were asking me about it?” Her voice trailed off, leaving him to finish his thought before his overzealous mind took over. 
“Zeb? Who’s Zeb?” He tried to cover his discomfort at the thought of her having someone at home waiting for her, but from her body language he could tell he was failing. Failing miserably. 
“Zeb is my cat, Spence. He’s a gray and white tabby rescue that I’ve had since I adopted him a couple of weeks ago. You know as a I’m-still-single-even-though-I’m-26-now-birthday-present. Did you forget, genius?” 
No, he remembers the cat. Sometimes jealousy is more powerful than his eidetic memory. Spencer was acting all jumpy over her damn cat. 
“Oh, that’s nice, y/n. It’s good that you have someone to go home too.” That comment elicited an amused look from y/n. 
“You know, statistically speaking people with cats are more than likely to be lonely, sad and tired than dog owners” 
“Oh is that right, Spencer?” His attention was taken from the road ahead to her amused expression. 
He did just kind of imply that as a cat owner, she was more likely to be depressed and lonely. He pulled into the parking spot next to Derek and started silently praying to the very soul of Carl Sagan that he did not mess this up as bad as he thought he did. 
“Ummm. Yeah, adopting is important though. Kitty mill and puppy mills-” He started but y/n put her hand back on his shoulder and his brain could not even compute the simplest of math equations.
“Spencer, slow your roll. You already called me lonely now you are going to make me into a crazy cat lady by telling me kitty mill stats. As much as I love your facts, I’m going to have to pass on this one” Her voice was light and playful and Spencer was enjoying a glimpse into this side of her. 
“You like my facts?” His voice is so small and the air in his small car seems a little sweeter. A little more hopeful. 
“I adore your facts, Dr. Reid.” y/n voice is small too, but she manages a quick wink before she unbuckles and walks over to Penelope and Derek, who, much to Spencer’s chagrin, have been standing in front of the Volvo for who knows how long.
________________________________________________________________
Apparently, Friday nights at O’Malley’s were karaoke nights. Spencer's sweaty palm clasped a second cocktail that Garcia handed him. The fruity taste covered his tongue. Despite the sweet taste, there was a bitter sensation whenever y/n would walk up to the bar and the eyes of drunken men would scan over her figure as if she was a prize to be won. Spencer was embarrassed at his jealousy. Y/N was not his, even though his heart was hers. 
Garcia and y/n returned from the bar with their second round of drinks in their hands. Spencer’s drinks gave him a nice, light feeling. He was as relaxed as he, a germaphobe-in-love-with-his-co-worker would be in a dirty, dingy bar. 
“Did I ever tell you guys I did theater in high school? I was Eponine, I think?” y/n remarked from her spot next to Spencer. She swayed slightly on her feet. Her head moving to the butchered tunes of a buzzed girl’s voice singing a couple yard’s from their table. 
“You were a theater kid?” Derek asked as Penelope sat down next to him.
Y/N hardly had a chance to answer him before, once again, Penelope’s voice overpowered even the constant conversation of O’Malley’s Bar. 
“OH MY GOODNESS!”  Garcia’s control over her volume went out the window whenever she got any type of alcohol in her system.
“YOU NEED TO GET YOURSELF UP THERE!”
“Garcia! I haven’t sang in years. I don’t even know what I’d sing.” She seemed hesitant, but deep down Spencer could tell she wanted to sing.
“What about that song you were talking about?” JJ mentioned from her chair close to Emily. “The one you were humming to on the plane” Emily further prompted. 
y/n looks around at her friends surrounding her, but her gazes meets up with Spencer’s and he holds his breath. 
“You know what? I need another shot to do this.”
“That’s my girl, y/n!” Derek called out as she marched up to the bar. 
Spencer watched as she took her shot. Her hair bouncing behind her as she climbed up to the karaoke machine. He was not prepared for the jazzy tune to infiltrate his ears, but the moment y/n started to sing he thought his face would for sure reveal his deepest desires. 
And the tennis court was covered up
With some tent-like thing
And you asked me to dance
But I said, "Dancin' is a dangerous game"
Her voice was soft and quiet and smoky. She was singing about love and life, and Spencer allowed him for a sliver of a second to entertain the idea that she was singing about him.
Oh, I thought
This is gonna be one of those things
Now I know
I'm never gonna love again
I've got some tricks up my sleeve
Takes one to know one
You're a cowboy like me
It was a beautiful song, Spencer thought as he sipped his drink. He watched her body sway to the steady beat of the song. Her voice was like a spicy drink. He felt warmed and loved, even he knew deep down he was not her cowboy.
Never wanted love
Just a fancy car
Now I'm waiting by the phone
Like I'm sitting in an airport bar
You had some tricks up your sleeve
Takes one to know one
You're a cowboy like me
Spencer moved his eyes from y/n and to the rest of his table. He noticed JJ had her hand on Emily’s shoulder and he could not help but wonder if Emily's shoulder burned like his did from the gentle touch of the one you crave.
Perched in the dark
Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear
Like it could be love
I could be the way forward
Only if they pay for it
You're a bandit like me
Eyes full of stars
Hustling for the good life
Never thought I'd meet you here
It could be love
We could be the way forward
And I know I'll pay for it
You're a cowboy like me
Perched in the dark
Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear
Like it could be love
I could be the way forward
Only if they pay for it
You're a bandit like me
Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she sang with a clear, smooth voice. Spencer had never heard his song before, but he knew that any song she chose would be favorite forever. Their eyes met and she held his gaze for what could not have been for more than 10 seconds. He’s always loved her eyes. How they seem to glisten in the faint light of the bar. How they looked like survivors of pure evil. How they would flit to him where Derek and Penelope would say something so absolutely ridiculous. 
Eyes full of stars
Hustling for the good life
Never thought I'd meet you here
It could be love
We could be the way forward
And I know I'll pay for it
And the skeletons in both our closets
Plotted hard to fuck this up
And the old men that I've swindled
Really did believe I was the one
And the ladies lunching have their stories about
When you passed through town
But that was all before I locked it down
Y/N broke her steady gaze with Spencer. She threw him a small wink as she closed her eyes. Spencer took the opportunity to feel the words leaving her lips. Perhaps it was about finding love in unexpected places. Or finding love when you never thought you were worthy. Lovers finding love in a hopeless place. 
Now you hang from my lips
Like the Gardens of Babylon
With your boots beneath my bed
Forever is the sweetest con
I've had some tricks up my sleeve
Takes one to know one
You're a cowboy like me
And I'm never gonna love again
I'm never gonna love again
I'm never gonna love again 
Spencer’s eyes never lifted from y/n as she finished the song. She had put him in a trance with her smoky voice and sweet eyes. Singing about finding her love in a hopeless, loveless place. He watched carefully as Garcia doted over y/n or as JJ and Emily shared a soft look. Spencer did not catch however, Derek’s grin as he read the unguarded expression painted on his face. 
Spencer swallowed the remainder of his drink with a hard gulp. The sweet syrup was nothing compared to her voice that hugged his ears and tethered his heart. 
________________________________________________________________
“Really, Spencer. I’m good to drive.” y/n turned to him. Her eyes were warm with the buzz of cocktails and whiskey that Derek and her ended up taking after her song. 
“Yeah, but Morgan took my keys.” Spencer said. He felt that he was holding her gaze too intensely. 
But it takes two to tango. 
“He called a taxi. Derek. uh-” Spencer started with a new sense of apprehension of having to be alone with y/n, while his brain was operating at even lower standard than normal with her around him. 
“Wait-Spence, if Morgan took your keys, how will you get home?” 
Oh, shit. Spencer thought silently. He let out a strangled laugh as he filed through his brain thinking of where he could spend the night. 
“I could just go back to the BAU. I’m pretty sure Hotch is still there.” Spencer attempted to lighten the situation, but he was so aware of y/n’s head leaning against the rough fabric of his upper arm. 
“We could just take the taxi to my apartment.” If Spencer was not a profiler, he would not have caught the way y/n’s voice picked up. It was laced with nerves and anxiety. As if her offering him a place to stay for the night would ever end in him saying no. 
“You don’t have to do that, y/n. Honestly, it’s not a big deal for me to just crash on the couch in Rossi’s office.” He looked up and tried to focus on the limited stars in the sky. Something, anything to take his thoughts from the girl he loves asking him to spend the night. 
“Spencer, look at me. You probably could not walk in a straight line. You're a freaking genius and I think you know better than to show up to the BAU, where we both know Hotch is still working, drunk like you are” She was smiling and Spencer had suddenly forgotten over his disappointment in the cloudy night. No stars would ever compare. 
“You’re smart, y/n. I hope you know that. I’m sorry that I got drunk. It’s just that, it actually kind of an interesting thing, if you think about it-” Spencer was acutely aware of his drunk ramblings, but the girl to his side did not seem to notice, or rather even care. 
The pair sat on the curb outside of O’Malley’s talking intently. Neither realized when the taxi pulled up. Spencer and y/n climbed inside the weathered yellow cab. She gave the man his address before turning towards Spencer and leaning her head against his arm again. 
It was like his nerves were on fire. He could hardly think about anything, but her smoky voice, her lavender and bergamot perfume, and her starry eyes. 
Spencer insisted that he pay for the taxi, considering y/n was letting him crash for the night. They walked to Complex 6 and Spencer noticed something quite interesting. 
“Hey, y/n isn’t this your car parking spot? Your car isn’t here, do you think it could have gotten stolen, the statistics for stolen vehicles in the Stafford area, but I doubt that it would be comforting in a time like this” He rambled on as she walked at a quick pace ahead of him. 
y/n turned to look at him with a sheepish expression. 
“Okay, I may have bent the truth a little. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you Spence, even if it was just the ten minutes it takes to get to the bar. I enjoy your company” She finished with a hesitant tone in her voice that Spencer caught immediately. 
“You wanted to spend time with me?” He questioned anxiously, taking a difficult breath. 
“Of course, Spencer. Of course I do.” Her voice was low and if he was not hanging on to every word she said he was sure he’d miss them. 
They stood silently in her Parking Spot 612. It may have been awkward or uncomfortable, but Spencer felt a floaty, tingly sensation from the tips of his battered Converse sneakers to his fingers that stung with the winter chill. 
“I like spending time with you too, y/n. You’re great. Of course you know that already.” Spencer remarked to the woman standing before him staring at her feet.
“Whatever you say, Dr. Reid.” 
________________________________________________________________
“Zebby!” y/n shouted as she stumbled into the hallway of her apartment leading to her living and kitchen. She picked up the gray and white cat who melted into her warm embrace. 
Spencer had been to her apartment before, it was y/n to a T. The walls were a warm pale yellow with a creamy white trim. She had a bookshelf that could hardly contain the entirety of her collection. Books lay on the floor and scattered across the coffee table, the small couch, and the kitchen table. Her cabinets were a dusty blue and there were dishes in the sink. Y/N’s home was cozy and comforting. And Spencer felt an overwhelming sense of peace and serenity in her presence. 
“Spencer, come met Zeb. Now be nice boys. I can’t have my favorite boys not getting along” Her chipper voice caused Spencer to smile so hard it hurt. She placed the squirmy cat in his arms and walked in the door leading, to what Spencer would imagine, was her bedroom. 
“I’m going to get my PJs on, Spencer. I’m sure my brother left some clothes over here that you can wear so you don’t have to sleep in that suit, even though it’s a good look on you, Spence.” Even in the dim light of her kitchen, Spencer could tell her discomfort at her brazen statement. 
“I think Zeb and I’ll manage without you, y/n. And thanks I-uh-thanks for letting me stay here.” He slowly nods his head to convince her that he’s not nearly half as nervous as he was in the moment. 
She turned to shut the door and Spencer walked to the bookshelf. His eyes shifted over the titles in her collection. Some titles he recognized, but others, like The Hunger Games and Twilight must have been newer books. He moved away from the bookshelf and found a soft looking spot on her couch. Next to her television he saw a collection of records and a record player. He’s seen it before, but now there’s something different about her listening to those records while singing along to them. 
“Ha! Glad you two got cozy. Here’s some clothes. They’re my brother’s for when he visits from college. I’m sure you’ll fit. He’s so tall like you” 
Spencer hardly had the chance to let Zeb down from his arms and to take in her changed appearance. Gone was the minimal makeup and work attire. Y/N dressed in an old tee shirt from her college and flannel pajama pants. She had on pale blue socks with white and pink bunnies. Spencer felt himself tinge slightly pink at her standing in front of him. 
“Thanks” was all he could make out before he practically ran into the bathroom to change. 
Standing in her bathroom surrounded by her things, Spencer allowed himself a moment to entertain the idea that this was their bathroom. He closed his eyes and pictured her sweet smelling shampoos sharing the tub space with rubber duckies. Bath toys would litter the cabinets and find a home with his aftershave and razors. 
He opened his eyes to the cold reality of the truth. Instead of being greeted by y/n or smiling children, he was face to face with his reflection in her mirror. The warm lighting and smell of her lotion taunted him. 
You’d never be enough for her, Spencer. Someone like her deserves the world. You’re not enough.
As he dressed, he refused to look back into the mirror and be taunted by the dreams of the future that would never be. 
________________________________________________________________  When he walked into the living room, dressed in her brother’s clothes, Spencer noticed y/n standing by her record player. 
“Y/N, I meant to tell you. Um-You are a wonderful singer. Beautiful. Not that I’d guess anything less from you.”
 He walked closer to her and in the dim light he could see a shy smile form on her face.
 “Thank you, Spencer. Did you like the song choice?” She was back to the small, quiet tone that she used in the parking lot before. “Yeah. I did. It was hopeful in a sad kind of way.” 
“Hmm. I’m glad that you liked it. You know why I picked it?” She moved closer to Spencer. They were almost chest to chest as they stood in her living room.
“Uh...you like cowboys?” He tried to joke, but his attempt did not make her chuckle. 
“No not exactly, maybe I like people who used to wish to be cowboys” She cocked her head to the side and looked at him directly in the eyes. 
Spencer closed his eyes and tried to tell himself that she did not allude to what he taught she did. There was no way. 
“Spencer, I’m in love with you. And I know that it might ruin our friendship, if you don’t feel the same way and how can you. I mean you are you and you’re just so brilliant and beautiful and frankly, I’m ordinary.” 
“You love me?” He questioned. Spencer could not believe this. She loves him. And tried to tell him that through a song. 
“Of course, Spencer. I’ve loved you for a very long time. I’m sorry if this ruins things, I’ll make arrangements with Hotch if you don’t think-” 
“Y/N, please stop talking. I love you too. So much. I never thought you could feel that way about me.”
Spencer, finally, took the small step between them and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. He nuzzled his face into the crook of y/n’s neck as he breathed in her shampoo. 
“Spencer! That tickles!” She was giggling with an air of happiness that Spencer realized he’d soon grow addicted to. 
“Hmm, too bad!” 
He brought his hands to her face. Y/N hands mirrored his own as she threaded her fingers through his brown curls. The silence that fell between them was no longer awkward, but the silence was like a blanket of comfort. 
“How drunk are you right now, y/n?” Spencer asked with a sudden sense of bravery. 
“Hmm, I’m sober enough to know I want to kiss you” 
“You’d let me kiss you? You want to kiss me?” Spencer implored. His voice still airing on the side of caution. 
“Baby? You’re sweet to ask, but I’m kinda hoping that you’ll kiss me everyday that you’ll keep me around for” His skin tingled as her lithe fingers tugged on her curls. They danced around the skin of his neck, leaving invisible strings of love and adoration in its wake. 
“So kiss me, Spencer. I want you to kiss me.” 
There may not have been stars in the sky that night, but they sure as hell were in her eyes as Spencer pulled her into him. 
Kissing y/n was like drinking the sweetest coffee. Time no longer existed as his lips merged with y/n. Every sensation in Spencer’s very being was acutely intune to the feeling of her lips moving against his, the smell of her perfume, and the small noises she made of utter happiness. 
Spencer was a man of science, but kissing her may turn him into a disciple. As his hands cradled her face, he thanked a God he didn't believe even for creating someone as perfect as y/n was for him. He rested his forehead against hers and clung to the sweet promise of forever. Spencer craved and longed for an eternity that he knew may not exist. 
Y/N let out a shy laugh as she pulled away from Spencer. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she leaned into him inhaling the remainder of his cologne. 
“Spencer, will you dance with me?” 
“Only if I can pick the song, and the singer, my love” 
“I think I can make an exception for you, cowboy”
644 notes · View notes
Text
This Gravitational Pull
Summary: Penelope Garcia sets her two best friends Derek & Spencer up on a blind first date. Even with the best intentions and highest expectations, no-one could've predicted it would go quite this well.
Tags: fluff, first date, au: diff first meeting, shy spencer, insecurity, anxiety, flirting, cuddling, protective derek, silly amounts of affection
Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid
Word Count: 2.9k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
I started writing this and then realised that I'd set their date in a pub's beer garden? I googled it and apparently they are a thing in America so I kept it in. I don't know how common they are, but I hope it's all good and you can picture the setting just fine.
Spencer really wishes he hadn’t agreed to this blind date.
Not because he doesn’t trust Penelope — he does, he trusts her implicitly and entirely — but because it's a blisteringly hot day in late July and the heat compounded by his shaking nerves is making for a rather unpleasant sweating situation.
A bumblebee buzzes quietly around the table he’s sat at, briefly interested in the iced coffee he’s got his hands wrapped around, and Spencer watches it with a gentle sort of intrigue, able to briefly take his mind off the impending date. He knows that Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan is physically attractive, Penelope had made that more than clear with both her copious photos of him and the way she’s sung his praises since she started working at the FBI, but if anything, that just makes him more nervous. If Derek wasn’t his type, then he wouldn’t have as much to lose.
He runs a nervous hand through his hair as he heaves a small sigh. Worst case scenario, he can run home to his apartment, order Indian food, bury himself in the early edition of War and Peace he just won in an auction and forget that this date ever happened.
“Spencer? Spencer Reid?”
A surprisingly deep and sexy voice has him looking up from the watch face he’s been staring at perhaps a little too intensely, and he’s instantly taken aback by the Greek God standing in front of him. He’d known Derek was attractive, he'd seen pictures of him, but no camera could ever hope to do someone so beautiful any semblance of justice.
“Uh, y-yes, um, yeah. That’s me.” He shakes his head to try and recover his awkward word stumbling before discreetly wiping his sweaty palm on his trousers and standing up to shake Derek’s hand. “You’re Derek?”
“The one and only,” Derek says cheekily, shooting Spencer a grin that already has his stomach churning with a mix of excitement and crippling nerves. “Penelope told me you were gorgeous, but let me tell you, she really undersold it, pretty boy.”
His cheeks instantly flush red as he fights to maintain eye contact, blinking owlishly at the other man. Did he really just say that?
“I was going to say the same thing.”
Derek’s grin only widens. “Well, it looks like Penelope matched us well, then.”
This time Spencer allows himself to briefly duck his head as a baffling mix of pleasure and mortification swim around his chest. He puts it down to inexperience. Any other explanation will only compound his embarrassment.
“She did,” he agrees, smiling over at Derek and hoping desperately that he’s managing to stay cooler on the outside than he is on the inside. “Do you want something to drink?”
Derek nods. “I’ll go and order a beer at the bar. Do you want anything or are you okay with that coffee?”
“Oh no, I’m fine, thank you,” Spencer says, and mentally he praises himself for finally getting out a coherent sentence that doesn’t sound hopelessly mangled and flustered.
He watches Derek as he strides into the pub, looking as cool and confident as his looks and personality allow, and he realises that he really does just have a way about him. The bar is relatively crowded due to the blinding heat on a Saturday afternoon, but the bartender serves him instantly, all the girls eyeing him interestedly and the guys knocking his shoulder and joking about with him as though they’re all easy, long-time friends.
It’s nice, Spencer thinks, to be the focus of someone like that’s attention. Derek could have his pick of most people drinking here, but he only has eyes for Spencer as he comes back out, holding a tall pint and wearing a happy, focused expression as he sits back down.
“Do you not drink?” Derek asks curiously and without judgement, gesturing to his coffee.
“I go out with my friends sometimes,” Spencer says, blushing again, “but I’m a bit of a lightweight, and that’s not the best state of mind to be in on any first date, let alone a blind one.”
Derek chuckles warmly at that, and the sound is a pleasant rumble reminiscent of a distant thunderstorm. Spencer wants to melt into it.
“I think I’d like to see you all messy on a night out, pretty boy,” Derek says wryly, still grinning shamelessly, and Spencer gets the distinct impression that this ‘pretty boy’ business is going to be a Thing between them.
Spencer cocks his head and takes a sip of his coffee through the long metal straw. “Maybe you’ll have to join us some time.”
“Does that mean we’re going on another date?” Derek asks, but before Spencer can panic that he’s said the wrong thing, he’s smoothly continuing. “Because I’m more than down for that.”
“You are?”
“Pretty boy, you ever looked in the mirror?” Derek demands playfully. “Add that to this cute little nerdy bashful doctor thing you got going on and you’re the whole package. Of course I want another date with you, and we’ve barely even started this one.”
Spencer flushes bright pink at that, and decides to move the conversation on before he melts into a literal puddle in the middle of this beer garden. “So you know Penelope through work?”
Derek gets the hint. “I was part of the group that arrested her, actually,” he chuckles, “and I thought she was gonna be a nightmare to work with when we gave her the option of working for the FBI instead of going to prison. But then she showed up on her first day decked out from head to toe in pink and yellow, her hair dyed back to her natural blonde, and the way she smiled when I called her baby girl… well, it was smooth sailing from then on. Did you know her back in her Black Queen days?”
“I was her one phone call,” Spencer answers, his face splitting into an easy grin as they discuss his favourite person on planet earth. “I was terrified she was going to jail and I’d lose her forever, so I was over the moon when you guys offered her that deal. We went to get our hair done together the very next day.”
“Oh yeah? And what did Pretty Boy have done to his hair, hm?”
Spencer blushes. “Let’s just say she wasn’t the only one who had a rebellious phase?”
“Now that I have got to know more about.”
“Save it for date number two, SSA Morgan,” Spencer shoots back, relaxing into the easy banter between them.
“Alright, alright, baby, I can do that,” he says, winking again. Thankfully, Spencer manages not to do an embarrassing impression of a traffic light this time. “How did you and Penelope meet?”
“Back in college actually,” Spencer nods. “She was sort of going off the rails after her parents’ death, but I think finding a scared 12 year old in her Geography elective helped her rein it in a bit. We’ve been glued at the hip pretty much since we met. Even when I went to MIT for a bit to complete my Engineering PhD, she came with me. Since her job back then was mostly hacking and some supplemental side jobs, it didn’t really matter where she was based, she was just hellbent on protecting me like she has ever since that first Geography class.”
“Wow,” Derek says, looking genuinely shocked as he leans back a little bit, eyeing Spencer with curious eyes. “You went to college when you were twelve? I’m glad you had Penelope because that could’ve been a disaster.”
“It kind of was,” Spencer nods, laughing a little. “But it meant that I had five degrees including three doctorates by the time I was twenty-one so I wasn’t too mad about it.”
Derek stares at him consideringly, the soft smile on his face making Spencer’s stomach fill with butterflies. “You’re quite the genius aren’t you?”
“Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”
Derek just stares at him.
“So, yeah, I guess I’m a genius?” he says bashfully.
Derek laughs, shaking his head. “Definitely a genius. I mean, Penelope told me you were clever, but this is like… insane. Are you sure you’re okay to go out with a mere mortal like me or should I see myself out?”
“Yeah actually, Derek, sorry, it’s not going to work out,” Spencer says, feigning seriousness. “I can’t be with anybody who’s not within twenty IQ points of me or doesn’t have at least two PhDs.”
“A good actor, too? What don’t you have going for you, pretty boy?” He laughs in that wild and free kind of way Spencer always wishes he could, and he wonders whether Derek could teach him how.
Derek watches him like there’s something special about Spencer as the sound of their laughter mingles, looks at him like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be but right here, right now, and the warm intensity of it has a buzz going in Spencer’s chest, a pleasant feeling he can’t imagine anything dousing, and he never wants Derek to take his eyes off him again. Not if this is how it’s always going to make him feel.
The hours of the afternoon fly by and all of a sudden the sun is setting and they’re feeling distinctly hungry.
“How do you feel about getting some street food and taking a wander down to the beach?” Derek suggests hopefully, and Spencer can’t help the wide grin that splits his cheeks at the idea.
“Let’s do it.”
The beach is slightly cooler than the garden now the sun is setting and a soft, salty breeze is floating in from the ocean, so they sit close together in the sand, sharing their servings of nachos and fries between them.
“What’s your family like?” Spencer asks, a little daringly after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence.
Derek smiles. “They’re amazing. It’s been just me, my mom, and my two sisters since I was ten years old, but I think losing my dad only brought us closer together, y’know? We had to learn from a young age how to rely on each other, and we were also taught the very valuable lesson of just how important family is and how nothing in life is guaranteed, so we’ve made every effort to be as close to one another as possible.”
Spencer watches with quiet admiration as Derek gushes about his family, and takes another bite of their nachos. “Do they live locally?”
“No, they’re all still back in Chicago,” Derek says. “It’s sad sometimes, being so far away from them, but they would have killed me if I’d stuck around back home just for them and hadn’t chased my dream of climbing the ladder of the FBI.”
Spencer nods, chuckling along with Derek as they stare out at the quiet, tumbling waves of the ocean.
“What about you?” Derek asks. “Are you close with your family?”
Shit. He hadn’t exactly considered that asking Derek about his family would lead to reverse questioning about his own. I mean, call him a genius all you want, but social interaction is not his area of expertise.
“Uh, it’s just me and my mom. She lives back in Vegas,” he explains, clearing his throat awkwardly as he hopes that’s enough to appease his date.
Truthfully, it probably would have been, but Derek doesn’t say anything immediately, and the silence feels like it’s choking him into admitting the truth, however much it makes his chest tighten and his stomach flip with anxiety. What if this is it? What if Derek doesn’t want to start something with someone who has a family history as fucked up as his? What if he reads between the lines and sees that Spencer could be just like his mom in the future, and thinks that starting a relationship is just too risky?
“She has paranoid schizophrenia,” he blurts out, the words rolling off his tongue without his express permission, and instead of shutting up, they just keep coming. “When my dad left when I was ten, I had to be her sole carer until I left for college at twelve, but even then she refused professional help and medication, so I was taking the train from Pasadena to Las Vegas every weekend to try and help her out, and it got messy a lot of the time. It was only when I turned eighteen that things got a little bit easier, and that was only because I betrayed her trust and had her sectioned into a Sanitorium.
“They’re amazing, they take really good care of her and I did my research obviously, but I think a part of her still resents me for doing that.”
He stares out at the ocean for a couple of seconds before he suddenly realises where he is and what he’s just done.
“Oh my god,” he says as horror and dread fill him from the bottom up, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have just dumped all that on you, I’m sorry, just—”
“Hey, pretty boy,” Derek says gently, placing a reassuring hand on his back to get his attention. “It’s okay, don’t worry. I’m just happy you felt comfortable enough to tell me all of that, and besides, I asked the question, and I meant it. I wanted to know the answer.”
Spencer feels some of the panic recede a little, and he looks up at Derek to try and gauge whether he’s telling the truth. “Really?”
Derek’s expression only softens further. “Really.”
He relaxes a little further and leans into Derek’s side, smiling to himself when Derek wraps his arm fully around his waist, resting his head on top of Spencer’s.
“I feel like I’ve known you way longer than just four hours and fifty six minutes,” Spencer says eventually.
Derek chuckles, and this time Spencer can feel the low rumble against his cheek as well as hear it. “It might be the biggest cliche in the book, but I feel exactly the same, baby.”
“I think sharing street food on the beach while staring out at a sunset as romantic and beautiful as that one has cemented the cliches in this date enough already,” Spencer points out, laughing a little.
“That is very true,” Derek agrees, squeezing his hand against Spencer’s waist. “We could round all the cliches off with a kiss, if you’d like.”
Spencer sits upright, blushing again as he eyes Derek’s flirtatious but serious expression. “I’d like that a lot.”
Derek wastes no time in taking Spencer’s jaw in his hand and leaning in slowly to place a long, sensuous kiss to his lips. Spencer kisses back with as much control as is possible when your experience is next to none and you have one of the most beautiful men in the world turning your stomach inside out with his attention, but it seems to be enough for Derek because as soon as they pull away, he’s grinning widely.
“You’re quite the kisser, pretty boy.”
Spencer fights the blush but it comes anyway. “I like that.”
Derek’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “The kiss?”
“No, the pet names.”
Derek’s expression smooths out and he smiles again, a little more tenderly than his usual cheeky grin. “Well, that’s good, because I have plenty more up my sleeve, sweetheart.”
Spencer flushes with pleasure this time and settles back against Derek’s side, observing the blue sea as they settle into silence once more.
“I’m not very used to all of this, by the way,” he says after a while, the sky slowly darkening.
“Used to what?”
“This. Kissing. Dating. Pet names.”
Derek looks down at Spencer to try and get a better look at his face. “Really? You could’ve fooled me.”
“I’ve only ever had one boyfriend before, and this is only the second date I’ve ever been on.”
“Any girlfriends?”
“Not really my area.”
“And this other date, was that with boyfriend number one?”
Spencer shakes his head against Derek’s shoulder. “No, I never went on a date with him. I met him in college and we were friends first, so we never really dated, just fell into a relationship.”
“Ah.” A brief silence settles over them again, but Derek doesn’t let it hang long. “You know I’m not bothered by any of that, right? You could have never dated anyone ever before or have screwed your way round half of California and DC and it wouldn’t matter a single bit. Not if you were here with me, right now.”
He laughs softly as Derek lightens the mood, and something in Spencer’s chest feels like it falls into place at that, like his last anxious reservation has been washed away and he can really move forward, forge onward with this scarily exciting endeavour.
“You’re a good man, Derek Morgan. You know that, right?”
Derek kisses the top of his head. “I do,” he says, “but I’m not sure it’s ever sounded quite as special falling from anyone else’s lips as it does falling from yours.”
Further down the beach, another wave crashes against the shore, and the colours of the sunset fade away slowly. People pack up their picnic baskets and head home, and seagulls attack their leftovers, but none of that matters, because right now, Spencer’s world is Derek Morgan.
Penelope Garcia deserves a medal.
(Yes, I've used that "yeah I guess I'm a genius" sequence in way too many fics, leave me ALONE. )
taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @marsjareau @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds @wifeyprentiss @cmily @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley @hotchscotchh (add yourself to my taglist here!)
136 notes · View notes
juniorgman187 · 3 years
Text
Fighting Fire With Fire (Reid Fic)
Tumblr media
Summary: Reader must lower her pride after a date goes wrong and the only one who can rescue her is her mortal enemy - Spencer Reid.
A/N: This was a beast of a fic to write. It’s been in my WIP since September, and I managed to go from 11 pages to 22 pages in three days. It is now my longest fic thus far. I am insanely fucking proud of it and I hope it does well. Category: Angst Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: allusions to ‘catfishing,’ allusions to abduction, dub-con to taking provocative photos, alcohol, mentions of bruises, jealousy, carrying hug which implies weight of Reader (lmk if I missed anything) Word Count: 11.7k
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
I tried to play nice; I really did, but there was no getting through to him. Everyday started and ended with us fighting fire with fire.
Maybe the reason the two of you butt heads so often is because of how similar you are.
That’s what the team would say when Spencer and I got into one of our daily (sometimes hourly) arguments. 
They constantly encouraged us to get to know each other so that we’d finally see the likeness, and until recently, I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I was willing to do whatever it took to get him to like me. However, as previously mentioned, my willingness quickly dissipated in light of recent events. 
Voluntarily spending more time than necessary with him would be a recipe for disaster no doubt. 
Somehow, in a matter of a month, Reid decided that he simply did not enjoy my presence, which was the nice way of putting it. 
To be more crass, he loathed me to no end.
Initially, I was operating under the assumption that he wasn’t fond of change, and with me joining the BAU, the change was too much too fast for him, but after four weeks, his attitude toward me never deviated. Yet again, I made another excuse for him, arguing to myself that people are allowed to not like me. I could respect that, but where he lost my respect was how he made a conscious effort to remind me of how much he despised me. Even when I was at my nicest, he still treated me like a scelerate. 
If there was a prize for gaining a mortal enemy in the shortest amount of time, I guess I already won that without even trying. He hated me with a burning passion, for reasons unbeknownst to me, despite the fact that all I’d ever try to do was be his friend. 
For far too long, I kept denying the part of me that knew making peace with him outside of work wouldn’t go well and it’d simply go down in history as another failed attempt of mine to form a bond with him, so it was at this point that I decided to face the facts. 
He didn’t make it easy for me, either. It was hard having to be kind to someone that was only ever out to get me. 
He would constantly correct me but only after I said something incorrectly, just so he could prove me wrong. 
“If each police officer patrols a street, we’ll be able to cover the entire comfort zone.”
“Actually, we’d need three more officers if we want to cover the entire comfort zone. There’s still 2.347 miles that are unaccounted for.”
I never understood why he couldn’t just say his piece before me so that I didn’t look like an idiot, but I suppose that was the point. 
And he had this infuriating, unwarranted habit of judging my taste in cinema and literature. Anytime I told Emily or Derek about a movie I saw or told Rossi about a book I read, he felt compelled to share his antagonistic opinions as if I asked for them in the first place. Sometimes even spoiling the endings for me!
“Rossi, I just started reading Doctor Sleep!” I was so eager to tell Rossi that, so much so that I’d become blind to one dark cloud’s own eagerness to ruin the fun. 
“The hotel burns to the ground, but the ghosts don’t die with it.” 
He said it with such monotony and nonchalance, not even bothering to look up from his own book to watch my reaction to his menacing act. He just didn’t care!
The list of reasons not to like him truly did go on and on, so it was almost insulting how people would compare the two of us. 
They’d bring up the congruence in intelligence, the same affinity for reading, and closeness in age, but it only made me madder. The last person I wanted to resemble was Reid, except today, I gained another glaring similarity to him.
“Look at you two. Did you plan your outfits or something?” Emily playfully pointed out after I walked into the conference room. 
I eyed the doctor sipping at his cup of coffee who swiveled around in his chair to see what everyone else was seeing. Just from a short glance, I spotted his navy blue button-up with white polka dots that was nearly identical to the color and print of my dress.
“Well, looks like one of us has to go home and change.” His lips grew into a mischievous smirk behind the rim of his mug. 
Was that a joke? Did Spencer Reid make jokes now?
“Ha ha. Very funny.” I facetiously remarked, taking the only open seat at the table which was next to the jokester himself. 
“I’m kidding. You look really nice today.” He alleged without a hint of irony. He was complimenting me now, too? It was so unfamiliar that it felt like uncharted territory, possibly even a trap.
“Why? Because I’m dressed like you?” I wasn’t going to fall for his words now, maybe the version of me who would do anything to gain his approval would have. She would’ve smiled and said ‘thank you,’ but this me was going to challenge him if that was the last thing I ever did. “Bit of a narcissist are we, Dr. Reid?” 
“Mmm maybe,” He wagered, tilting his head from side to side as if to contemplate the possibility. “Or maybe I just really think you look nice.” 
Without even thinking, my heart skipped a beat. I was utterly repulsed by how I let his words have any effect over me. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually managed to fluster me with mediocre flattery. 
It felt like years that I had to sit next to Reid at the round table before Hotch dismissed the team for the flight.
30 minutes later, and we were on the jet. I’d taken one of the seats at the table opposite Derek and Emily, with Spencer beside me. 
Little things like this I could handle, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he started bothering me. Morgan was listening to music and Emily was turned around in her seat, facing the back to talk to Rossi. Reid was playing himself in chess, and it took all of my self-control to not be a total asshole and knock the board and its pieces over and into the aisle. Luckily, I had a good enough distraction. 
Grant: can you ft tonight?
Me: we’ll see. i might have to work overtime. 
For the months that I had been talking to Grant, I was deliberately ambiguous about my job because I wasn’t exactly keen on telling him that I worked for the FBI and that I might not be able to FaceTime him since I was in the process of investigating a series of homicides. That’d surely scare him away and I was never one to flaunt my government job anyway.
Grant: you look stunning today
Me: you haven’t even seen me today 
Grant: don’t need to. 
Grant: you’ll always be stunning to me. 
“Who keeps texting you?” 
I looked up from my screen to see Reid fixated on his game but still engaged in my business. 
“No one,” I harshly replied, making a conscious decision to turn my phone on vibrate so he wouldn’t hear the chime of my text notifications.  
With one nimble side glance, Reid eyed my screen. I nudged him away with extra force.
“Nosy much?!” 
This stunned him. He wasn’t used to my coldness, he probably expected me to smile in a chagrined manner and not confront it - as I would have done - but now I was fighting back, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked it. 
I knew he could read fast, but how he managed to look at my phone so quickly it was like he never even moved his eyes - I didn’t know. Somehow, though, he managed to capture Grant’s entire username, and I didn’t doubt that he caught my entire conversation with him, too.
“Who’s Grant?” The name rolled off his tongue like he was insulted to even be saying it. 
“No one.” 
He didn’t respond soon after I said this, which I misinterpreted as a little victory for me since I almost believed he was going to drop the subject, but in true Spencer Know It All Reid fashion, he just kept going. 
“‘You look stunning today B-T-W. You haven’t even seen me today. Don’t need to. You’ll always be stunning to me.’ Doesn’t really sound like a ‘no one’ to me.” His recitation of my entire PRIVATE conversation with Grant embarrassed me. 
Did I forget to add his eidetic memory and speed-reading ability to the list of reasons not to like him?
“Shut up!” I nudged him, this time using much more force than the last. I was becoming more and more inclined to push over his ridiculous chess game so that he’d finally take me seriously. 
“Oh, really clever by the way. Vaguely insinuating that you ‘might not be able to call him because you’re working overtime’ just so you don’t have to disclose the true nature of your job.” Spencer’s sarcasm was thick.
“Are you just jealous because the only date you’ve been on was a fake one with a serial killer and not even your actual girlfriend while she was alive?” My reference to Cat and Maeve caught the attention of the entire jet. 
Each member mentally rolled their eyes thinking ‘Here we go again.’ And if that wasn’t their reaction, they were certainly cringing at the fight that was ensuing. 
Things had been suspiciously good between the two of us today so it was about time we argued. We were due for our daily quarrel.
“Oh, that’s right! The only girls who like you are victims in our cases.” Now this comment was referring to Lila and Austin. (I had Penelope to thank for filling me in on all of Reid’s ‘entanglements’ after I was first reassigned).
“Really? You wanna go there?” He sassed back, diverting his attention away fully from his chess game now. “Do you know how many people get ‘catfished’ when using online dating websites? Or the statistics on how many people are raped, assaulted, or murdered by said ‘catfish’?” 
“I’m not stupid, Reid. He and I have been talking for months. We’ve been on calls and Facetime before, too. We’ve just never met in person. Sound familiar?” 
“What Maeve and I had is not at all comparable to what you and this ‘guy’ have. And just because you’ve seen his face before doesn’t mean he’s not a serial killer or operating under an alias.” 
I had to scoff. Who was he to label our relationship valid or not?
“What’s it to you anyway? We all know you’d be ecstatic if this guy turned out to be a serial killer or catfish. You’d get to rub it in my face and say ‘I told you so.’” 
This touched a nerve. He hated it when I attacked his nice-guy facade. 
“Is it so hard to believe I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing?”
“Yes, actually.”
“Fine. If you think I don’t care about you, then don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not the guy you think he is.”
“Oh, trust me, I won’t! It’s not like you’d be able to protect me anyway, Pretty Boy.” I sneered, using Morgan’s nickname for him as an insult got to him, and I could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. 
Hotch had to interject now. “Alright, (y/l/n), Reid, that’s enough. We need to focus on what’s actually important.” 
I settled back down in my seat, facing forward and avoiding eye contact with Reid. 
“Have fun on your date,” He muttered under his breath. “Hope you survive it.”
Bastard.
For the rest of the case, I was on edge. Deliberately avoiding him was a much harder task than one might think. I had to wait at least ten minutes for my coffee, so I wouldn’t be at the machine when he was there, and if I had to guess, he probably took longer just to make me wait in agitation. I had to awkwardly squeeze into a new spot beside Rossi and Hotch when we were delivering the profile. I had to ask not to travel in the same SUV as him. 
And this exhausting routine went on for days. In fact, I’d managed to almost go the entire case without interacting with him. That was until Hotch sent us both in the field to apprehend the unsub. 
“Are you sure?” I asked with clear reluctance. 
“Are you questioning me?” Hotch replied sternly. 
“No, sir.” 
I was already on thin ice being the new recruit, so I knew better than to question any of Hotch’s orders. And as miserable as working with Reid was, I figured he’d at least ease up on the hostility when we needed to be professional. Evidently though, even in the field, he wasn’t willing to work together with me. 
It was a quick decision, not careless in the least, however. The unsub had locked himself in his warehouse and refused to leave unless we were brave enough to drag him out of there ourselves. The ultimatum he gave specified that only one of us could do it and we both agreed that I should go in, seeing as he’d underestimate my strength as a woman, and I’d have the upperhand when I inevitably apprehended him. 
However, he also explicitly told us that I couldn’t come in with a gun - it had to be an even playing field. 
“You are not going in without a gun,”  Reid ordered. 
“We don’t have time to argue about this - I have a spare on me, okay? There are three hostages in there, two of which are children.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I handed him my gun and holster.
Had I let him waste a single second more of my time, we wouldn’t have been able to save the three hostages and successfully arrest the unsub. I saw this as a victory and I was almost willing to celebrate it with him, but it wasn’t long before he let our enmity tear us apart again. 
When we got back to the precinct, I went to the locker room to change, then suddenly, Hotch came in. 
“I’ve been informed that you went in unarmed against a fellow agent’s orders. This matter will be discussed in my office when we get back. I should warn you, (y/n), you do not want to make this mistake again.” Hotch left me with those foreboding words, and I knew, I knew immediately that Reid was to blame for this.
If I took a look in the mirror of my locker, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw that my face was turning a bright shade of red. I was fuming - bursting at the seams from the anger building within me that was desperately fighting to escape. I could imagine myself as a cartoon character with steam blowing out either of my ears. I was about to go on a rampage, and no one - absolutely no one - could stop me. 
The last straw was hearing him come in. This was my opportunity to unleash what was already boiling. 
“What the hell, Reid? ‘(y/n) went in unarmed.’ Seriously?!” I undid the velcro on my vest so hastily out of my blind rage that the spiky side of the velcro strip nearly sliced my finger. “Are you trying to get me fired?” 
“If that’s what it takes to make you realize how stupid of a choice that was, then yes, I do.” He was so calm and collected in his inflection that it angered me all the more. 
“What are you even talking about? What ‘stupid choice’? You knew I had a second gun on me. And even if I didn’t carry it, I still would’ve had my vest on. I wasn’t going in unarmed or unprotected, so why would you tell Hotch that?” 
“In the time it would take you to assess the danger, react, and then reach for the gun at your ankle, the unsub would’ve been able to shoot you twice - if not more. That’s going in unprepared, which is going in unarmed.”
I scoffed in disbelief that he was actually reprimanding me. “Are you kidding? This is all based on a technicality? Did your eidetic memory somehow forget about what happened with Maeve? Because my memory didn’t. I know for a fact that you went into that warehouse without a vest or a weapon. And unlike you, I had a spare and my vest. AND I actually apprehended the unsub. Did you stop Diane?”  
This crossed a line and I knew it, but it was too late to take it back, and clearly, it was much too late to repair any relationship I had with him. We were far beyond the point of no return. 
He was so mad that he didn’t even answer me. The only response I could gauge was from his body language, which by the looks of it, all the signs of anger were plain on his face. He clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his teeth grind. Even his nostrils flared so primitively. His eyes narrowed down at me with a glare that said, ‘I’m the predator and you’re the prey.’
“Yeah, exactly.” I spat when he stayed silent. 
I turned around, starting towards the exit, but I was too furious to stop there, so I spun around and unleashed the remainder of my wrath that had been dying to come out. 
“Look, I get it. I’m the new kid around here, and it sucks when someone new comes in and changes up the team dynamic, but any mistake I make, or any mistake Hotch thinks I make, could send me packing. You’ve been working in this unit for years, and even if Hotch questions your choices, he won’t reassign you. He won’t even threaten it. He’s willing to overlook your mistakes because he knows that what you have to contribute to the team is too vital to let go, but I haven’t even had my chance to show him what I have to offer. So when I do make a mistake, there is nothing for me to fall back on, nothing to redeem me, and no safety net, but you? You have years of experience on your back to break your fall. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me a favor by reporting my ‘mistake’ to Hotch. You might be costing me my dream job, and if you think that makes us friends - think again.” 
I stormed out of the locker room seeing red. 
This war was far from over. 
_ _ _
“You’re clenching your fists again,” Emily said under her breath. I was grateful that she said it in a hushed tone, otherwise she might’ve revealed my lingering anger to the whole jet, which wouldn’t have been good. 
I immediately unclenched them, opening up my hands to reveal small, dark C shaped imprints on my palms from where my nails had dug into them. 
I should’ve expected that she would’ve learned at least one of my tells by now. I did have many after all. Cheek biting, fist-clenching, leg bouncing. 
“Something bothering you?” She probed quietly. 
She set her book down to give her undivided attention to this conversation. That was enough to tell me that an excuse like, ‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ would not suffice. She wouldn’t be satisfied until I told her the truth, which I surely did not want to tell. So I settled for a half-truth.
“Hotch wants to talk when we get back.” 
From my peripherals, I saw her knit her brows together in confusion. “Is . . . is that it?”
“Mhm.” I lied. 
“But that’s not enough to warrant the fist clenching. Cheek biting - sure - you do it when you’re anxious, but not fist-clenching. You only do that when you’re angry about something.” 
“Oh, so you have figured out all my tells,” I smirked.
“Pfft, I figured them all out the first week you got here, but I won’t tell you the rest, otherwise you might try and hide them from me,” She joked. 
I shook my head playfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just worked up about something - it’s nothing you need to worry about though.” Habitually, my eyes looked right up in his direction. I caught a glimpse of him sprawled against the couch, sleeping. He was lucky I wasn’t ranting about the little stunt he pulled earlier to Emily. He should be thankful that I was even trying to protect his reputation to her at all. 
“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but it does help. Take it from me, someone who really only trusts myself, you shouldn’t hide what you feel.” 
What you feel. 
I clung onto those words. 
What was I really feeling? 
Was I upset that instead of receiving praise for the arrest I made, I was scolded like a child? Was I angry that Hotch believed what Reid had to say about my “problematic behavior” instead of believing in me? 
Or did I feel betrayed that despite my best efforts to build a bridge, Reid was tearing it apart brick by brick? Burning it to pieces with the fire of his rage?
“Thanks.” I bleakly said to Emily. I would’ve told her the truth, but it didn’t feel necessary at that moment. If anything, it just would’ve reflected badly on me. 
Truthfully, she was the closest thing I had to a friend in the BAU, and if I wanted a permanent spot here, I needed to make more of them - and fast. 
“Hey, (y/n), we’re all going down to O’Keefs tonight to celebrate. You wanna join us?” Morgan asked, walking up the aisle and crouching down beside my seat to talk to me. 
“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to talk with Hotch when we get back,” I explained, smiling politely. 
“We can postpone the meeting till first thing Monday morning. I need to go home and be with Jack, anyway,” Hotch added. 
I didn’t realize he could hear me from where he was sitting, which made me all the more nervous that he might’ve overheard the entire conversation between me and Emily earlier. 
“Looks like I’m free,” I looked back at Morgan. “Does the offer still stand?”
“Anything for you, sweet cheeks.” He winked. 
Judging from the lightness of the atmosphere, everyone, except maybe Hotch and Rossi, would be celebrating at O’Keefs - including Spencer. 
I think I might’ve actually preferred to be scolded by Hotch tonight, instead of being silently glared at by Spencer, but it was already too late to revoke my confirmation of presence. 
Because, if Hotch could hear me from where he was sitting, then Spencer could, too. 
He already heard I was coming, and there was no way I was backing down.
_ _ _ 
In spite of the fact that I could barely hear myself think over the loud chatter and blasting music, I could still feel the rage radiating off of Spencer. You would think with how long his nap was on the jet, he wouldn’t be so cranky, but I guess he just couldn’t sleep off his disdain for me after our minor altercation. 
I wondered if the team could see it, too. The way he was burning a hole into me with his fiery stare. The tension was palpable, as it has always been, but remember - I’m not the one who wanted it that way. 
He started this. I was only making the feeling mutual. 
“So what about you, (y/n)? Are you seeing anyone?” 
I tried to hide my growing smirk behind the rim of my beer, but I knew I couldn’t hide much from them. Of course, right across from me, Spencer was glaring at me expectantly, waiting for the answer he already knew. 
“Oooh, look at her - she’s blushing! Spill.” Penelope ordered, beating her palm on the table so enthusiastically it shook all the drinks on it.  
“Well, there’s this one guy I’ve been seeing for a while,” The second I started speaking, I noticed Spencer rolling his eyes. I figured his apprehension was the only response of its kind that I would receive, but I was very mistaken. 
“How did you two meet?” Penelope giddily asked, nearly jumping up and down in her seat. 
“A dating app, actually.” 
The table went completely silent, and I immediately felt my stomach drop. It was as if I’d just said something very wrong. With just a quick glance in front of me, Spencer was basking in this. 
What a dick.
Emily hesitated to ask. “...Have you two met in person before?” 
Now it was my turn to hesitate to speak. “No, not yet.” 
I took another sip of my drink even though I wasn’t thirsty. I just wanted to hide any part of my face I could to shield myself from the five sets of eyes burning holes into me now, rather than just the one. Trying to make matters better, I spoke all too quickly, nearly sputtering on my beer. “I’m completely safe, though. Nothing sketchy’s going on, I promise.” 
“Of course,” JJ agreed. “We totally trust you,” neglecting to attach the cliche, ‘It’s him we don’t trust.’ But if she had, it would’ve spoken everyone’s bubble thoughts right about now. 
“Just be careful, mama.” Derek’s response felt the most sincere, and I honestly believed he was happy for me, but it didn’t change how much their judgement initially stung. 
For the rest of the night, I didn’t talk. No one noticed. 
Except maybe the last person I wanted to notice. 
I quietly slipped away somewhere in the night when the conversation was at its highest precisely so they wouldn’t question where I was going or if I was okay. If they had asked, the truthful answer to the former would’ve been ‘just outside to get some air’ and the latter ‘no.’
The cool breeze drifted through the door like rising fog and for the briefest moment in time, I felt suspended in the space around me - I’d finally caught my breath. That feeling wouldn’t last long, though. 
I’d intentionally gone outside to compose myself until I came back a person who wasn’t on the verge of tears, but apparently, trying to pull myself only resulted in my falling apart. A ball of yarn unraveling is the closest comparison I can draw to what I must’ve looked like, crying quietly on the street.
“I figured I’d find you here.” 
It was the mere sound of someone’s voice that shocked me, but it was the person whose voice it was that led to the frustration that followed. 
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside talking to the team of people who also agree with you about Grant?” 
He was too much of a nuisance to warrant exchanging eye contact with so I simply stared forward as I spoke and wiped the tears away that were still pooling on my lower lash line. I hoped he hadn’t actually seen me crying, but from what I could tell, he was probably standing there long before he said something. And if he was truly looking at me as deeply as it felt like right now, then he’d have noticed my bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks, and unending sniffling. 
“Is that why you disappeared back there? Because you’re upset they didn’t exactly like the idea of your relationship?” The pain in the ass really tried, he really tried to get me to look at him by facing me and making these gestures with his hands that should’ve gotten my attention, but instead, I stayed put leaning against the wall, keeping my line of sight straight ahead. 
“(Y/n), they weren’t insulting you or judging you -”
“Then why did it feel like it?” For the first time since he’d joined me, I’d looked at him. I didn’t even mean to and I had every intention of denying him that privilege for the entire duration of our conversation, but as soon as I asked him my question, we locked eyes, and I saw it written all over his face. 
He felt sorry for me. 
Now, he could clearly make out how distraught I was from this unobstructed view of my face that was kindled by the dim, flickering yellow glow of the streetlight beside us. And he kept staring, looking into my eyes to read me just as easily and just as quickly as he read a book. 
“All we want is for you to be safe,” His voice crackled momentarily, and it actually touched some part of me for how genuine it sounded. “We weren’t trying to judge you or to insult you, and I’m sorry if it felt that way, but if we want your safety, and you tell us about something that could be potentially harmful, then of course we’re going to be apprehensive about it. That’s how people that care about you should react.”
“So are you saying that I don’t care about myself because I’m engaging in something risky?” Isn’t that the most ironic statement of this year? The definition of our job was risky, and even if this wasn’t the safest relationship on the planet, it was nothing like what we put ourselves through everyday being in the field. 
“No, that’s not what I’m saying -”
“So what are you saying?” I dared. He shook his head and sighed like he was about to give up, but I needed an answer. “No, please, do continue. Finish what you were gonna say. Since you apparently know everything, 187. Please go ahead - tell me what you think I should do.” 
Tell me what you really came out here to say, I ordered him with my eyes.
“I think I respect you more than you respect yourself, and that’s really saying something. Because if you actually liked yourself as much as I do, then you would realize that subjecting yourself to this nonsensicality of a long-distance relationship is not only dangerous - but insulting to your worth, too. You deserve more than that, (y/n).” He couldn’t have been clearer when he murmured a low and firm, “Much more.” 
The world was spinning on its axis too fast for me to process anything he said before snapping back at him. “So what exactly is it you want me to do?”
With utmost clarity in both annunciation and intention, he told me, “Break up with him.” 
Not a shadow of a doubt in his words. 
Then, like the phantom of the opera himself, he vanished back into the bar, but even if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have had anything to say to him. I was simply rendered speechless.
Circling back to my previous argument, I questioned once more why was it any of his business anyway? I was allowed to do as I pleased and I most certainly did not have to listen to him. And I didn’t. 
But I should’ve. 
_ _ _ 
My Monday morning meeting with Hotch wasn’t nearly as fire and brimstone as I thought it would be. It did however feel like the equivalent to an “I’m disappointed in you” parent speech. In some ways, I related to the average teen who was grounded. Except instead of my phone being taken away, it was my freedom. From now on, I could only follow executive orders that had been given to me. At least for the time being. 
It was clear that, deep down, some part of Hotch knew what I’d done was the right call, but he couldn’t give me any favors. Not until they were deserved on my end. 
Walking onto the jet after our meeting, however, felt more juvenile than the punishment itself. I was a kid again, re-entering my classroom after using the restroom, only to have all eyes on me as I came through the door.
As per usual, the only empty chair was next to Reid. There’d been too many instances of this happening to think it was just a coincidence. At this point, I had to assume it was by design. Whose design however? That I didn’t know.
“Hello, trouble,” He sang when I took my seat. 
I could only assume that this new nickname was based on what took place in Hotch’s office - thanks to him, need I remind you - but I didn’t care to know the origin because that would require talking to him, and for several reasons, that was the last thing I wanted to do. The first of which was what happened less than three days ago. An event we both hadn’t mentioned yet, and I hoped we never would. 
I took every preventative measure in the book. I changed seats with JJ. I moved to the couch. I even started reading in the little hallway between the kitchenette and bathroom of the jet to avoid sitting beside him, but against all my best efforts, he always found a way to bug me. When there’s a will, there’s a way. After exhausting any real reason he had to talk to me, he had to get creative. 
“You’ve been on that same page for four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.” I heard him say when he walked up to the kitchen to reach for the pot of coffee. Almost expecting I’d ask him what he meant, he added the explanation casually. “It never takes you more than three minutes and twelve seconds to move onto the next page. So either you’re not understanding the material or you’re not actually reading.”
It was utterly hilarious of him to imply that either of those things were definitely the answer. “What if I’m just taking my time reading this page, genius? Ever thought of that?” 
His eyes turned into slits as he leaned in closer to examine me. “You’re blinking rate just increased, too.”
“Stop!” I screeched childishly, pushing him away by his shoulders in an attempt to get him off my back, but he was far from off my back. No, he was right against it. More specifically, his hand was on the small of it. 
Leaning in so close that his lips were practically pressing on the shell of my ear, he whispered, “Come find me when you’re ready to tell me the truth.”
He didn’t need to know his words or actions had any sort of effect on me, so I kept the most stoic facial expression on, and I didn’t say a single thing back. He turned back around to leave with the hand on my back being the last thing to go. His lingering touch caused a shiver to run down my spine while paradoxically burning my body from the friction. 
I was disgusted with myself for having let him elicit any sort of reaction from me, even if he wasn’t aware of it. 
“Yeah ... well, d-don’t expect that to be anytime soon,” was my poor attempt at a retort to shut him up.
“Whatever you say, trouble.” 
_  _ _ 
Personal space can be a wonderful thing. Much less so when it’s invaded, however. 
After what felt like the longest flight ever, all I wanted was to take a shower and go to bed. My wishes were granted when I was able to wash off the stress and exhaustion and slip into a blush pink satin pajama set Grant sent me that I’d been meaning to wear. The plunging neck of the tank top was lined with lace and adorned with the tiniest little bow at the center. To match the shirt, the hem of the shorts were lined with lace that trailed up the small triangular slits on the side of the shorts, where at the vertex of them was the same little bow detail. For such a pure and innocent color as baby pink, you’d think it’d be somewhat less revealing. The longer I started at myself in the mirror while wearing it, the more aware I’d become of the intentions behind why Grant had sent it. 
How cute, I thought, rolling my eyes.
Gifts should always be appreciated, if for no other reason than the effort put into it, but this just felt slimy. There was obviously no valiant romantic intent behind the negligee, which spoiled the delight of receiving something out of the blue from him. What’s worse was that I wasn’t even sure how to thank him for something like this. 
Me: thank you for the pajamas. they’re so cute!
Lying was easier over text message, in case you were wondering what the perks of a long distance relationship were. 
Grant: good, I’m glad you like them. are you wearing them right now? 
But sometimes, when you should lie, you don’t. And you regret it later on - take it from me. 
Me: yeah, they’re super comfy
Grant: great! i wanna see them on! take a pic 
As if to compensate for the indisputable hatred I had for this lingerie and what it stood for in our relationship, I did the only thing I could think that would make him think I really liked them. That I felt good in them. 
I took pictures - not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, Yelp review pictures, though - provocative ones. 
In the same breath I went to take them, though, Spencer’s words rang through my head. 
You deserve more than that. Much more. 
Shaking off the thought of Spencer, I decided against what the little voice in my head that sounded too similar to his would’ve said. 
To add to the illusion, I situated myself within the hotel sheets and used the front camera to capture my chest that was very much on display in this top. In the middle of rolling around the bed, trying to find the angles that wouldn’t show my face of dejection, the door opened. 
Instantaneously, I clawed at the sheets until they wrapped around me like a towel. I was ashamed to admit they provided more coverage than these ‘pajamas’ did.
My shriek of shock must’ve sounded familiar to the stranger intruding on me because no sooner did I scream than they questioned, “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?”
Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 
“Spencer, what the hell are you doing in here?” I grumbled, struggling to maintain a tight enough grip on the sheets that would keep them from falling and unveiling a sight I desperately did not want him to see. 
“I asked you first.” 
Boy, if you only knew how badly I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face. “This is my hotel room obviously. Your turn.” 
Returning just the same tone, inflection, and vocals, he imitated me. “This is my hotel room obviously.” Like one of those magic tricks he’d show Henry or Jack, he miraculously flashed a room key between his index and middle finger that wasn’t there before. 
“No, that’s impossible.”
“I opened the door, didn’t I?” That damn smirk was still there when he asked this. Maybe, just maybe, if it hadn’t been so condescending, I would’ve thought his sarcasm was ... attractive. Disgusting, I know. 
“Well, if you actually plan on staying here, then you’re sleeping on the floor or the couch, got it?”
My question went unanswered until I turned around to follow where he’d traveled in the time that I spent pondering how this happened. Now perched at the window, sitting on the arm of the chair in a way that chairs weren’t meant to be sat on, he continued to stare silently at me. 
“What? What is it?” I urged. 
“What’s going on with the …” He made a side to side sweeping motion with his key card. “Bed sheets?” 
Consciously, I shimmied the fabric further up my body. Seeing as there was virtually no way to escape an honest answer, I confessed. “If you must know ... I’m wearing p-pajamas.” My own body was rejecting the shameful admission causing the word to stumble out of my mouth. 
He didn’t need to know any more than that to gather what kind of garments they were. He already figured it out.
“Did Grant give them to you?”
I almost rolled my eyes at the implication. “What makes you say that?” 
“Because I know you,” He punctuated every word perfectly. “And I know that you wear big shirts and sweatpants to bed because you don’t see the point of spending money on clothes that are only made for you to sleep in - especially if they’re clothes that make you uncomfortable like these ones clearly do.” 
Although, I greatly despised the fact that there was even a little bit of a chance that I might’ve agreed with him, I still defended Grant. “It was a thoughtful gesture.”
“Thoughtful, right,” He scoffed. “And which head was he thinking with?” 
I was baffled he had the gall to say such an innuendo. “Spencer!”
How dare he? So what if Grant bought me something provocative because he was physically attracted to me? At least someone was. 
Despite the ferocity plain on his face, he chose not to pursue this conversation. Visibly biting back on words he knew would hurt me, Spencer managed to sound remarkably genuine when he promised me, “I won’t look if you don’t want me to.” 
I want you to, was my very first thought. Oh, God, that’s so fucked up, was my second. 
He underlined his sincerity by turning fully around until he was facing the window. “But we should probably put the sheets back on the bed if you plan on sleeping on it.”
He was so patient as he waited for me to remove the cloth from my body. It almost made me feel guilty. He didn’t grumble or gripe, nor did he pressure me to do it at all. So by rights, there should’ve been no reason for me to take so long to let the barrier fall - he wasn’t looking at me. But I was just so goddamn embarrassed. 
This wasn’t me, and even he knew that. 
“You can turn around now,” I mumbled quietly once my safety net of a bedsheet had abandoned me. My arms were crossed over my chest and my thighs were pressed so tightly against each other as if to limit the surface area that Spencer could scrutinize. 
That never came. 
He did look, I could tell that much. But it wasn’t a look I’d ever seen before. It wasn’t rage or annoyance or pity. It was a look of lust. 
A look that made me positively weak in the knees. A look far more sensual than even my racy garments. 
“I’ll just sleep in Morgan’s room tonight, okay?” He offered once he finally broke out of his incapacitation. Grabbing the two opposite corners of the sheets that I was holding, it was a team effort as we arranged the covers where they belonged. It was probably the longest period of time we’d ever worked together without fighting or talking at all for that matter..
Not a single word was exchanged between us while Spencer gathered his things to leave for Derek’s. The room started to feel dangerously empty in the stillness. 
When he slipped past me to make his way out, I caught his upper arm, successfully pulling him back around.
I could’ve been sweet, I should’ve. But that wasn’t our thing. So I settled for what came naturally to us and what would set off the least amount of red flags - I didn’t play nice. “As long as you promise not to hog the entire bed with your behemoth body, we can sleep together -” Catching the words as soon as they came out and what they could’ve implied, I began backtracking. “Sleep in the same bed. Sleep as in rest. Not sleep as in … anything else.” 
Then, in one of those rare moments- he laughed. He actually laughed. Like a real, hearty, sudden laugh. “I know what you meant, (y/n).” 
I’ll never forget the smile that followed the world’s greatest laugh either. 
Oh, God, I’m so fucked up. 
_ _ _
Spencer’s POV
Domesticated animals are smarter than we give them credit for. Studies have shown that pets can actually sense time; They know when it’s time for their owner to leave for the day and when they’ll be coming home, too. 
Animals aren’t dumb - and neither was I. 
Like a dog sniffing out their owner’s imminent absence in the home, I could tell (y/n) was leaving the hotel room for the night. If her current state wasn’t convincing enough, then her behavior throughout the entire day supported that theory just as well. 
Whether it was her phone, the clock on the wall, or her watch, she was evidently keeping a close eye on the time. She did it so often, though, that you would think she would just use simple deductions to figure out what time it was by estimating the time it was when she last checked, but nope. She rarely let more than a minute go by without monitoring the clock.
My suspicions didn’t end there. What’s more suggestive was the anxious fidgeting. She had her tells of anxiety - everyone does - but this was a level of stress I’d never seen her exhibit before, not even in the field. 
She kept cracking her knuckles, even when she’d exhausting all the popping noises she could from them. Her leg-bobbing was another big tell, too. I tend to sit on tables rather than in the chairs at said table, allowing me to feel the earthquake occurring on the precinct floor. Her leg was bouncing up and down so vigorously it was practically shaking the room. 
I would’ve asked her what she was so impatient about, but I feared I already knew the answer.
Grant.
And if I never heard that name roll off her tongue again, it would be too soon. 
That didn’t mean I couldn’t ask where she was going, though.
Pretending to read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I barely let my eyes venture far off the page when I loudly asked from the window seat, “So where are you going tonight, trouble?” 
The faintest sound of a chuckle erupted in the bathroom, most likely from the nickname I hadn’t let die yet. 
“Nunya,” was her ever-so mature answer. 
I didn’t want to give her the chance to say ‘nunya business’ like I knew she would, so I quickly interjected with a monotone, “How clever of you.” If she wanted to be a child about this, then so be it. 
“Let’s see. You brought your good heels out of your suitcase, which you only wear on special occasions. And you put on a different perfume than the one you usually use, so I’m assuming it’s new. ... If I didn’t know any better, trouble, I’d say you’re going on a date.” 
She peeked her head out of the bathroom doorway to say, “You’re creepy, you know that?” 
Seeing the small portion of her face that was embellished with a smile would’ve been enough if only I knew what dress she was hiding in behind that wall. I had yet to see that part of her ensemble, but if I had to guess, it would break my heart. 
“Just saying,” I casually lied while clearing my throat. 
“Well,” I heard her begin from within the bathroom. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Grant is meeting me tonight.” 
Kill me now.
“I thought Grant lived in D.C.” Not that that would change much if he was already here. 
“Yes, he does, but he’s driving all the way here to meet me. Seeee,” She drew out the word. “Would a serial killer do that?” 
I refrained from giving the obvious answer: Yes. 
“Well, I hope you don’t plan on bringing him back here. Otherwise, that’d be terribly awkward, don’t you think?” My allusion to the possibility that Grant would come back here to find me in her bed was borne from the intentions that were a complete contradiction to the words I’d just spoken. It, in fact, wouldn’t be terribly awkward. No, it would be fun. For me at least. 
I would have loved to have seen the look on his face, and the worry on hers as she tried to explain who I was and why I had any right to be in (y/n)’s gravity. 
The room went silent again while I stayed on the same page of my book and, unbeknownst to her, waited for her to enter the room. How long she was taking was starting to worry me, though. 
“Need any help in there?” I called out.
“Nope,” She said through a strained voice that proved she was indeed struggling with something. 
“Really?” I asked once more to give her another opportunity to lower her colossal pride. “Cause it sounds like you need help.” 
“Nope. I’m good.” Liar. 
I knew her too well. I counted down to the exact second when she finally scrambled to ask, “Can you help me zip up my dress?”
“Yyyup.” I’d already resigned to the fact that I would have to help her, bouncing happily off the bed when she finally admitted it and letting myself lose the page I was on as I tossed the book haphazardly behind me. 
I was forced to join her in the bathroom for it was already hard for her to humble herself enough to ask me for help, so she certainly couldn’t be expected to lower her pride again and walk out to a place more convenient for me. 
The first thing I noticed was that it was a space clearly not made for two. It was so cramped that I ended up right against her in order to fit. The second thing I noticed was how she made no movements to distance herself. She was so close to me that I could actually see the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up from where my breath ghosted on the area. The sterile smell of hotel bathrooms had been replaced by the flowery, aromatic scent of her new perfume, and my heart broke all over again. 
Using the back of my fingers, I cast a barely-there caress on her neck to stroke her hair out of the way to clear the path of the zipper. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up again. 
She liked that.
“So do I get to know where you’re going?” I reached for the zipper on the small of her back. “For safety purposes, of course.” 
“Aww, you looking out for me, Dr. Reid?” She teased in a seductive tone while gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail that for the shortest second recorded in time might’ve reminded me of a constantly recurring intrusive image. 
“Always, trouble.” 
The zipper fastened with absolutely no resistance all the way to the top. My eyes flashed to the mirror to catch her expression, which told me everything I needed to know. 
What a pretty little liar. She didn’t actually need my help. 
Comprehending that the realization dawned on me, she gave me what she knew would shut me up. “We’re going to The Rooftop at Lamont’s.” 
How effortlessly she slipped past me without a thank you or a glance in my direction served as a rude awakening.
“Well, you should take an umbrella with you. It looks like there’s gonna be a storm tonight.” This was my small way of coming to terms with the reality of the situation. 
“Eh,” She waved my suggestion off with a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t even think about stalking me!” She warned before exiting the room.
In the blink of an eye, she was gone - my peace of mind having left with her. 
_ _ _ 
The amount of sleep you need varies for each person and is affected by several factors. However, for most adults, 7–9 hours per night is the ideal amount. And I was slowly reducing that optimal quantity, hour by hour, until there was none left. 
I would continue to sacrifice my sleep so long as I was awake for her return. If she’d asked why I was still up, I would lie. Though I wouldn’t look half so pretty as she did when she lied. 
Losing rest seemed like such a small price to pay to make sure I was fully alert in the event that an emergency happened, even if I would suffer the consequences in the morning. But hey - that’s what caffeine is for, isn’t it? To re-energize oneself after staying up to guarantee one’s enemy’s safety. 
Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why Kaldi invented coffee in 750 A.D. 
Besides the thunderstorm, my mind also made great company for situations like these. Granted, the visions it would project kept me up for a reason - they were all so awful. 
There was simply no projected reality where things would turn out alright. 
If she had the time of her life on her date, she would come back to throw it in my face that I’d been wrong, and her admiration for Grant would have deepened. 
Or if he stood her up, she’d be devastated, but instead of letting me console her, she’d push me away as easily as she always did.
In a more neutral instance, perhaps she would admit it wasn’t as great meeting him as she thought it would be and the relationship would fade out for innocent reasons. Even if that seemed like the most favorable circumstance, she would eventually grow to resent me for planting the seed of doubt in her head in the first place.
But nothing- nothing I could have imagined would be as treacherous as what actually happened.
At exactly 1:09 a.m, my phone started to ring. I can’t explain to you what it was, but I just knew - it was her calling, and it wasn’t even her number.
“(Y/n)? Is everything okay?” 
If she said something beforehand, I couldn’t hear her because the storm was too loud and her voice was too quiet. “Did I wake you up?” 
I reassured her with a tone I didn’t even recognize. “No, no. I was awake. Why? What’s up?” The line went quiet again, forcing me to prompt her to speak in order to find out if she was still there on the call. “(Y/n)?”
“Spencer ...” She choked out a hoarse sob. “I need you. I need you to come get me, please.” 
My eyes clenched shut at the dreadful sound of her sorrow, and I jolted into action. After scrambling to gather the keys to her car that she’d left behind, I fled the room faster than ever before. 
“I’m on my way, (y/n). Stay right there. You’re at The Rooftop at Lamont’s right?” 
The poor thing took the longest pause in history, either from shame or disorientation. “He threw me in the back of his car and drove me all the way to D.C. I …” Her breath caught on her dry throat again. “I, um, I managed to escape and now I’ve barricaded myself in a payphone booth. I haven’t called the police yet. You were the first person I thought to call. I just, I just needed to hear your voice.”
My knuckles turned an unfamiliar shade of white when I gripped the steering wheel, picturing her caged up in a rectangular box, dialing my number instead of 911 just so she could hear my voice.
“Everything is gonna be okay. I promise you. My ETA is 1:28. That’s in 19 minutes. Are you okay being there for that long or do you want to find somewhere safer?”
I could no longer distinguish the difference between talking to her right now and talking to a victim in distress. I was speaking with the same tone and inflection but feeling a sharp pain in my chest that wasn’t there before. 
“I can stay here. Just ... don’t hang up, okay?” The fact that the possibility of me abandoning her over the phone even crossed her mind was more than enough to get me to drive well over the speed limit. 
The list of traffic infractions only grew from there because honestly? Screw my safety or anyone else’s. Her’s was the only one that mattered. She was the priority. 
She was my priority. 
Throughout the entire call, I kept repeating, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Frankly, it was something we both needed to hear. 
It was both the fastest and slowest 19 minutes of my life. Time no longer felt real when I finally found the payphone booth that boxed in my troublesome girl. No sooner did I drive up to the sidewalk than I ran out of the car to sprint the short distance to free her from her coop.
“(Y/n)!” I shouted, swinging the door open and throwing caution to the wind in the process. Immediately, she dropped the phone, not even bothering to replace it onto its receiver. 
The pouring rain had stripped her of her dignity. Mascara ran down her face in pigmented streams of black. Her curled hair was dampened into strings. But worse of all, it hadn’t washed away the darkening bruises on her skin.
“Oh my god, Spencer!” She cried as she ran into my open arms. 
Her body collided with mine in such a gentle manner that I had to wonder how that was possible at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Was our collision actually that gentle or did it seem that way because of how good it felt to have her arms and legs latch around my entire torso, crossing and connecting somewhere in between?
With one arm under her thighs to hold her up, I pulled her impossibly closer to me by cradling the back of her head with the other hand. 
Her small hands found their way into my hair, a new sensation I tried not to indulge in so as not to let my attention stray away from the little life I was holding in my arms. 
She was so cold. 
Shivering from my warm embrace, her teeth chattered as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Spencer. You were right I should’ve listened -”
“Shh, it’s okay, (y/n),” I said with the hopes that I could make the pounding heart that was thumping against my shoulder settle down until it reached her standard heart rate of 67 beats per minute. 
After a second of just holding her wordlessly, she spoke again. 
“I don’t wanna fight.” She surrendered so easily to me that I could hardly believe this was her at all. 
“I don’t wanna fight with you either.” 
That was entirely true. Fighting with her was the last thing on my mind. The first was getting her into my car. 
It was easier that I imagined it would be, but then again, it’s easy to do things when you’re motivated in this way. 
Before I loosened my hold on her to shut the passenger door, she squeezed me a little tighter, as if to be absolutely certain this was real and not some cruel dream.
“Thank you,” She hummed into the crook of my neck. From where her shoulder was digging into my throat, I couldn’t exactly respond verbally, so I settled for rubbing my hand up and down her back comfortingly. 
“Let’s take you home,” I basically said to myself seeing as it was too quiet to be discernible. 
“No,” She shook her head rapidly. “Take me to your apartment.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to go back to the hotel right now. I need to be somewhere I feel safe.”
My apartment is closer than the hotel, I reasoned, pretending it was the logic of it that made my heart swell and not the statement I would fixate on for the entire duration of the ride there. 
I need to be somewhere I feel safe. 
And that’s wherever I’m with you.
_ _ _ 
Reader’s POV
Porcelain wall tiles gleamed back at me, mocking my wretched misery. They were much prettier than me, but then again, anything else would be prettier than me right about now.
I certainly wasn’t the belle of the ball in my bare naked state. The fact that I was sitting in a pool of my own washed off dried blood didn’t help either.
I would’ve looked away from the bright white walls, but where else were I to look? Into the pair of eyes that I was deliberately avoiding? The ones that were staring a hole through me right now? No. I couldn’t bear to meet those eyes. So I kept looking forward at the mean walls - those mean, mocking walls.
“Is the water warm enough?” He asked, dipping a finger into the bathwater to test it himself. 
I watched as his hand snuck into the tub and swirled around some water, causing soap bubbles to revitalize. 
For a reason I didn’t know nor could remember at this given moment, Spencer drove me to his apartment. That memory of why I was here was fuzzy, but the rest following my arrival was more vivid. Perhaps because it was all unfolding right now.
“I think I should go,” I murmured. The bathwater had gone cold, and the silence was too deafening. If I didn’t leave now, then I would be trapped forever. 
I leaned forward with my knees still pressed to my chest to protect my modesty while I tugged on the silver drain plug of the tub to release the suction.
“You can’t go home. You’ll be alone again, and who will be there to help you that time?” 
“I don’t need anybody’s help.” I responded curtly. 
“Then why did you call me tonight?”
“Why did you answer?” 
He was stunned by how I didn’t miss a beat with my question, stunned enough to purse his lips in contempt. “Should I have declined your call then? Said ‘no’ instead and let you fend for yourself? You know what - my bad, (y/n). I sincerely apologize that I care about you.” 
I scoffed at his factiousness. “No, what you should’ve done is whatever the hell you wanted to do. But clearly, since you said ‘yes’ and came to my rescue like I’m some victim in a case - you wanted to be there. I could chalk that up to you having a hero complex, but I think it’s time for you to admit you just wanted to see me at my worst so you could throw it in my face like you’re doing right now.”
He clenched his jaw in fury, muttering under his breath, “I should’ve left you in that booth.” 
This crossed a line, but I was just as ready to cross it, too. 
“But I bet you liked saving me. Seeing me as a damsel in distress that you could white knight. You like that, Spence? Does my weakness settle your deep rooted fear of inadequacy in strength?”
Shouldn’t have done that. 
For a second there, I was sincerely scared of the response I might’ve just elicited, so I shot up from the tub and grabbed the towel on the rack, quickly wrapping myself in it and avoiding Spencer’s gaze the entire way out of the bathroom.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Judging from the loudness of his voice, he was right on my heels, following me close behind. 
“You’re smart. Figure it out.” 
“God, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass? I don’t want to leave you like this.” It never failed to amaze me how he could both show disdain and concern for me in the matter of a sentence. 
“Well, you’re not leaving me like this - I’m leaving you like this.” My clever remark angered him more.
Seemingly from out of nowhere, Spencer called out from the end of his hallway, “What are you so scared of?” 
Reaching the end of my rapidly fraying rope, I spun around to throw my arms out to my side in just the same defensive manner as he did. “Nothing! Maybe I just don’t wanna be stuck in the apartment of the man who hates me! Can you blame me?” 
He ran a hasty hand through his hair, pulling at the strands out of pure irritation. “Why do you keep saying I hate you? How can any of what I’ve done for you tonight suggest that?”
He’d chosen his words carefully and for that, he was smart. His inclusivity of the word ‘tonight’ meant I could only reference his actions from the past few hours, which wouldn’t help my case, as opposed to the months and months that he’d given me the cold shoulder, which would have helped my case. But again, he was smart - he had me in a deadlock. I couldn’t accept defeat, but what could I possibly argue against his point? 
My body literally shook from the power of the deep groan that tore through my chest. “God, what do you want from me, Spencer?” I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him, but my body was resisting all those urges. Lunging forward, I pointed the sternest index finger at him, staring the most unforgiving glare into his soul. “Tell me - tell me what you want! Because when I was nice to you, you-you treated me like shit. And then when I stopped being nice to you, you still treated me like shit. So what -” I had to laugh to alleviate the sheer rage I was feeling. “What the fuck do you want from me? Because it’s like no matter what I do, it’s just not good enough for you!”
His eyebrows had furrowed and his eyes softened. He didn’t look angry whatsoever. No, he looked hurt. 
“Not good enough for me?” He leaned down to my level to look right into my eyes. “You are everything … everything to me.”
With one last breath, I cried out in anguish, “Then why? Why do you hate me so much?” 
He gulped back the lump in his throat - the last barrier that kept him from telling the truth. 
“I ... I never hated you. I just need to be in control of my thoughts and feelings at all times, otherwise, I feel-I feel like I’m going crazy. Like I’m on the verge of a psychotic break that I’m genetically predisposed to have. But when you came around - I lost all my control. You were inhabiting my dreams, you were stealing my sleep, occupying more and more space in my brain until there was no more room left to take. God, I think about you all the time, and I literally cannot physically stop it. I have no control anymore,” and somehow him saying that sounded something like an ‘I love you.’ 
“The only thing I could control was how I treated you. I thought being awful to you would get you to despise me enough to make me despise you, too, and while it was easier to be angry at you, it was so much worse having you hate me.”
“I never hated you, Spencer.” Never. 
“You should have,” He rasped. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I wish to spend every day proving that I want you. Oh, I want you so bad,” He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth, and I unconsciously laughed in return. His pain wasn’t funny in the least. What was amusing was knowing that he had the same excruciating longing for me that I had for him. 
“I don’t want control anymore if it means I can’t have you.”
He leaned in so carefully that I almost didn't register the movement at all. Our hearts were pounding to the same synchronized beat. We were the shore and the tide one in the same. Our breaths would draw in and out, in and out, as he held my face so gently. We were still the shore and the tide, but more than anything we were drowning in the ocean of ourselves. The rising waters of his admiration threatened to flood every empty nook and cranny of the room until it swallowed me whole. All I could feel was him, everywhere, filling absolutely everything. 
“Wow ... I finally got you speechless,” The cocky bastard hummed happily, letting his words vibrate on the smallest part of my lip.
“Oh, shut up,” I declared through a smirk I needed to fight off before finally closing that nearly imperceptible gap between us. 
All the forces in the world couldn’t tear us apart after we connected. They were no match for the force Spencer’s hands had as they pulled me impossibly closer. The pressure might’ve even been unbearable had it not been for the velvety pair of lips giving me back all the oxygen it stole from my lungs just seconds ago. They were so soft, like freshly washed sheets, like biting into cotton candy, like floating for the first time, feeling utterly weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s so effortlessly sweet. 
Not nearly as sweet as the words that followed our parting. 
“Not enough for me?” He repeated, recalling my previous claim. “You’ve had me since the day you walked in, trouble.” 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
fingers crossed this fic doesn’t flop!
complete taglist: @muffin-cup @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person @masumiyetimziyanoldu @dreamer-writer-fangirl @kalamitykait @jinxy175 @apolloroid 
tag not working: @gloriousmuffinempathstudent 
375 notes · View notes
Text
Treat People With Kindness (The BAU)
Tumblr media
Summary: Garcia gets Reid into Harry Styles and everyone subsequently loses their minds over it.
Content: Honestly just funny I’m not sure what to call it
MC’s name/pronouns: No alternate main character, just Spencer.
Word Count: 1706
A/N: This whole fic was inspired by the fact that a fan gave Matthew Gray Gubler a Treat People With Kindness pin, which then sparked my friend Emily and I to theorize that Spencer Reid would absolutely be a Harry Styles stan. So yeah, this is literally just the product of one fan interaction lmao
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I got a good feelin’.”
“... What’s he doing?” Emily leaned over and whispered to JJ, who just shook her head.
“I’m just takin’ it all in.”
“Ok, what happened to Reid?” Morgan joined them, and they both shrugged, watching Spencer walk through the doors of the office. 
“Floatin’ up and dreamin’.”
“You know, maybe I need to add him to my drug test list too.” Hotch had stepped out of his office, trying to hide his grin as they saw Spencer making his way to his desk, headphones in and practically dancing over to his seat, mouthing every word of the song he was listening to. He plopped down in it with a little spin, opening a file on his desk without ever taking his headphones out. 
“Try ‘Dancing with the Stars,’” Emily laughed, and JJ broke away from their group, heading over to his desk. 
“Hey Spence,” She rested her arms on the divide between his desk and Emily’s, tapping on it to get his attention. 
“Maybe we can find a place to feel good.”
“Spence!” She tapped his arm this time, and he practically jumped out of his skin, turning to face her.
“And we can treat -”
He quickly tore the headphones out of his ears, setting them down on his desk and looking up at her, clearing his throat.
“Sorry. I was listening to something.” He gestured to the headphones still connected to his phone, as if that wasn’t already obvious. 
“Yeah, I noticed,” JJ laughed.
“Do we have a case?” 
“Nothing yet, you’re good.” She tried fruitlessly to hide her grin, and he gave her a strange look.
“Ok…”
“So,” She plopped down in Emily’s chair, rolling it over to sit near him, “What were you listening to?”
“Oh!” His face lit up, and he grabbed his phone, holding it out for her to see. She put the headphones in her ears, hearing the final moments of the song he’d been jamming to.
“And we can treat people with kindness, find a place to feel good.”
“Harry Styles?” JJ laughed incredulously, handing him back his phone. 
“You’ve heard of him?” He asked, taking the phone and sitting it back on his desk and turning back to her.
“I’m pretty sure most people have heard of him, Spence.”
“Ok, well, I hadn’t. But on Saturday I was speaking at the University of Mary Washington with Rossi, and one of the girls gave me this, after the lecture,” He grabbed his bag off the back of the chair, pointing to a round pin clipped on the strap. It was enamel, with light pink on the inside and a red rose in the center, encircled by the phrase “Treat People With Kindness” in black lettering. “And you know, naturally I thought it was a good message so I put it on my bag and I thought that was all it was. But then I ran into Garcia.”
“Oh god.”
“I was walking in yesterday and she saw it and kind of freaked out a little bit, and pulled me into her office and played me the song - the one you just listened to - and it was amazing and so I told her I thought it was amazing, which made her freak out even more and then you called with a case so I left, only to receive a a YouTube playlist a few hours later that she told me I had to watch every video on or she’d stop printing the case files for me.”
“You know she loves you too much to actually do that, right?”
“I mean, the odds were low, but I wasn’t going to risk it. Either way, I sort of listened to every single song on Fine Line and Self-Titled in one night and also a whole bunch of interviews that she sent me and he’s really funny and his music is great and the moral of the story is I kind of love him.”
JJ sent back in her chair, dumbfounded. “Dude… you mean to tell me Garcia made you a Harry Styles fan?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“I - Penelope!” JJ left without another word, making her way into Garcia’s office. Spencer just shrugged, returning to the file he was looking at - and his music - as Garcia spun to face JJ.
“Jennifer, my love, to what do I owe the pleasure? New case?” She asked. JJ just shook her head.
“You broke Reid.”
“I did not break Reid!” She defended with a grin. “I merely helped him reach his true form.”
“He willingly used technology, and he came into the office today practically dancing to Treat People With Kindness. So yes, you did break Reid.”
“JJ, dear,” Garcia got up from her chair, taking JJ’s hands in the doorway, “Do you remember when Reid got that adorable little shaggy haircut?”
“Despite the fact that he changes his hair like every month, yes, I do.”
“And do you remember what Hotch said?”
She thought for a moment, then her eyes widened in shock. “You did all of this… because of the boyband joke?”
“Like I said: true form.” Garcia returned to her chair, spinning around with a laugh. “In my defense, I didn’t know he was going to get a Harry Styles pin. I just took advantage of the opportunity when it presented itself. I already failed at teaching him to worship Lady Gaga, I could not miss another chance to try and pull him out of the dark ages.”
“You are ridiculous, you know that?”
“That’s why you love me!” 
JJ laughed, leaving Garcia’s office and heading up to hers, ruffling Spencer’s hair on her way by.
“You should grow your hair out again.”
“You think so?” He reached up and fussed with his hair, just as Garcia emerged into the main room. 
“Spencer Reid, my beautiful boy genius, did you do what I asked?”
“Garcia, I figured out how to download music to my phone because of you. So yes, I did what you asked.”
“You are officially my new favorite person.”
“Hang on, what is this all about?” Emily asked. Garcia grinned, hardly able to contain her excitement. 
“I’m finally bringing the lovely Dr. Reid here into the 21st Century.”
“Penelope,” Emily raised an eyebrow at her, “What did you do?”
“Garcia thinks she did something revolutionary by getting me into Harry Styles’ music,” Spencer clarified. Emily immediately clapped her hand over her mouth, about to respond before Derek piped up from his desk.
“Oh, she converted you too?”
“‘Too’ - you mean to tell me that you, Derek Morgan, are a Harry Styles fan?” Emily was looking between the three of them now, practically in shock. Derek just laughed, holding up his hands.
“What can I say, the guy’s got an incredible voice.”
“And the make up of his songs is so interesting as well; I mean, when you look at the music he’s produced in the last few years in comparison to what he performed while he was a part of One Direction -”
“Oh my god please tell me you’ve also listened to One Direction,” Emily said, laughing when Spencer nodded. 
“I don’t understand why you guys are making such a big deal out of this. He’s a singer, it’s not like he doesn’t have fans,” He defended. 
“Reid, two months ago you didn’t even know who Lady Gaga was. This is kind of a big deal.”
“Conference room in five,” JJ walked through the group, heading upstairs as everyone else got up to follow her. 
“Do not think I am dropping this,” Emily pointed at Derek and Spencer before jogging to catch up with JJ. Derek laughed, falling in step with Reid. 
“So, what all did Garcia make you watch?”
“Oh, just a bunch of interviews. I did some of my own reading though -”
“Of course you did.”
“- and what I found really interesting was One Direction’s actual rise to fame. Because the thing is, they didn’t even win X-Factor. They came in third, and yet they became the most famous group to come from that season of the show. In Forever Young - their book - they talked about their time on X-Factor, but it was so strange to me because their first album - Up All Night, that came out not even a full year after they finished the X-Factor live tour - sold 4.5 million copies within the first year. And they just kept growing… Morgan why are you laughing?”
“I’m sorry,” They’d walked into the conference room by now, sitting down next to each other at the table while Derek tried to stop himself from laughing, looking at Reid in disbelief, “You read their book?”
“And their Wikipedia page - I told you I did my own reading!”
“You said you did some of your own reading, you didn’t say you’d memorized everything about their career!”
“Eidetic memory, remember?” He tapped his forehead, and Derek rolled his eyes.
“You never let me forget. I’m assuming you know everything about their solo careers as well?”
“Well I got into Harry’s stuff first, but I ended up reading all of theirs since I didn’t have anything else to do last night. It’s just so interesting to think about what One Direction’s situation reveals about human nature and celebrity culture. I mean, a lot of their fans are dictionary definition erotomaniacs, and yet -”
“I shouldn’t even be surprised that you read this all in one night.”
“Like I said: didn’t have anything else to do.”
“As much as I’m glad you boys are bonding, we have more important things to worry about than Reid’s newfound love for a British boy band,” JJ interrupted.
“Niall Horan’s actually Irish -”
“Spence. The case.” She pulled up the photos on the screen, and Spencer nodded, opening the case file in front of him as JJ began to review everything they needed to know. She finally closed out, and Hotch grabbed his tablet and rose from the table. 
“Alright, wheels up in thirty.”
Everyone nodded, gathering up their things and vacating the room. Spencer and Derek trailed out after everyone, Spencer picking up the conversation as soon as JJ finished. 
“You know, I’m considering learning how to knit - there’s this cardigan that Harry wore...”
142 notes · View notes
honeypiehotchner · 4 years
Text
intelligence & issues (Hotch x Reader) -- chapter eleven
I’m backkkk <33 Enjoy!
Today’s chapter title comes from “Wildest Dreams” by Taylor Swift and honestly? That song is Hotch and Reader’s song tbh
Chapter Warnings: fluff! Crime scene stuffs, case stuffs, and Hotch is an asshole at the end (what’s new?)
Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist
Tumblr media
Chapter Eleven: I thought, “Heaven can’t help me now.”
When you wake, you have a strange sense of Deja Vu. Hotch is shaking your shoulder again, only this time, you’re not in your bed.
“We’re landing soon,” he says softly, hand lingering on your shoulder, but you welcome its weight and warmth, forgetting for a moment that the rest of the team is on this jet.
“Mm, okay…” You bring the blanket underneath your chin, only this is when you realize it’s not a blanket.
You tilt your head down to look at the fabric, then lift your eyes back up to see Hotch isn’t wearing his jacket.
His jacket.
Oh my God.
He sees the realization on your face and smiles, but instead of commenting on it, he turns to start waking the others. As expected, Rossi didn’t sleep, but Reid is still quite frankly passed out. Emily, JJ, and Morgan are coming around, though, and upon seeing that, you scramble to get Hotch’s jacket off of you, catching Rossi’s eyes in the process.
“You were cold,” Rossi says with a shrug, and a smirk.
You shouldn’t be mortified, but you are.
After folding Hotch’s jacket over your arm, you wait until your boss is sitting back down to hand it to him with a raised eyebrow. “Thank you,” you whisper.
“You’re welcome,” he says, thinking nothing of it as he shrugs it back over his shoulders. When he sees you’re still looking at him like that, he adds, “You were getting goosebumps. Would you have rather I let you freeze to death?”
Is he making a joke? You wonder, with the corners of his lips tugging upward. You shake your head, saying nothing else.
No wonder you slept so soundly.
+++
Upon arriving at the local police station, you’re all met with the usual: desperate officers who want you to snap your fingers and find the unsub ASAP.
And, they always look pretty displeased when you admit that you need time.
You swear sometimes people think the BAU is made up of sorcerers who can see the future and not regular humans who are just trained to recognize and predict behaviors.
Regardless, they’re happy you’re here.
“I was shocked myself when I made the connection,” Sheriff Ansley says, nodding to the pictures of the other seven victims, with Nathan and Jonathan at the end. “Those others were so spaced out, we just… Oh, it sounds bad, but when you’ve got other problems coming across your desk, they can all blur together.”
“We understand,” you say, trying to be the comforting one here, even though you’re feeling more and more like time doesn’t exist and that you’ve entered a third dimension.
A few hours of sleep and jet lag can really do a person in. Especially with the added stressor of Hotch standing next to you.
“Morgan, L/N, I need you to come to the crime scene with me,” Hotch says, and your eyes widen the moment your name slips from his mouth. Is he trying to mess with you? You figured after covering you up on the jet, he’d make a conscious effort to be as far away from you today as possible. Just because Morgan is also coming along doesn’t mean much. Profilers aren’t dense.
“Prentiss and I will go talk to the victim’s family,” Rossi says, nodding to Emily.
Reid says nothing, too engrossed by the pictures and details tacked up on the board. Though, after a moment, he says, “I need a map of the town. Maybe the region. Yeah...the region.”
A little confused, Sheriff Ansely replies, “We’ll get that for you.”
JJ notices the confusion and says, “I’ve got it, don’t worry.”
With everyone focused, you pile into a vehicle with Hotch and Morgan up front (you purposefully sit in the back) to head to the crime scene. Sheriff Ansley leads in her car, and about two seconds in, you wish you would’ve thought to ride with her.
“You know I have to ask,” Morgan begins, a shit-eating grin on his face as he looks over at Hotch. “What did you get up to last night? Get lucky?”
Hotch looks ready to backhand his fellow agent. “No.”
Morgan keeps going. “Come on, Hotch, it’s about time you get some.”
“For now, I’ll stick to the case.”
Morgan huffs, giving in, which you think is for the better. But when Morgan turns his head to look out the window, Hotch catches your eyes in the rearview mirror.
You sink as far down as you can in your seat, biting the inside of your cheek to hide your smile.
+++
You have no clue what you were expecting when you pictured the outside of Jonathan King’s house, but it wasn’t this.
A few police cars are already here, their men having already gone in to look around, but not touch anything. A few cars look tiny next to the monster that is the mansion you’re looking at.
“I thought this was a small town,” you mutter, closing the car door.
“Jonathan’s daddy was the owner of the only car dealership in town,” Sheriff Ansley explains. “They were big money.”
“I can tell,” you shake your head. “Definitely don’t have houses like this where I’m from.”
The sheriff chuckles. “Yeah. Before they built it, this was a wide open field. Tiny house. Space for all kinds of animals. Had a red barn out there,” she points off to where a gigantic pool complete with a rock waterfall is.
You hum. “A lot changes for the worse sometimes when money comes in.”
She looks at you then, almost like she respects you a little more now. Which isn’t unusual. The sheriffs in small towns don’t exactly like having to call the FBI in for help. Some do it rather begrudgingly. It’s more often than not that you find yourself being the bridge between big city and small town.
“Any signs of forced entry?” Hotch asks the first officer he sees and they shake their head.
“Nothing. But this damn mansion is so big…” He trails away, looking around at it all.
“I understand,” Hotch sighs. “If you find anything, let us know.”
“Hotch,” you speak up, nearly tapping his shoulder, but you quickly pull your hand back. “If this unsub is a woman, then it’s likely there won’t be any forced entry.”
The sheriff nods. “She has a point.”
“How?” Morgan asks, eyebrows furrowed over his sunglasses.
“Seriously?” You deadpan. “Do you want me to demonstrate?”
He catches on, and drawls, “Go right ahead,” prompting you to shove his shoulder.
“Focus,” Hotch scolds. “I hear you. He probably let her in.”
“Did Jonathan have a reputation of being a player?” Morgan asks. “Take a lot of girls out on dates? Get serious with a lot of them but never marriage-serious?”
Sheriff Ansley nearly snorts. “Oh, yeah. He was the town’s bachelor. New woman every week. Swore every single one was The One.”
You nod slowly. “He must’ve picked up the wrong one, then.”
“Evidently so,” she replies quietly, leading the three of you into the house.
Hotch opts for looking around the house with the sheriff while you and Morgan go to Jonathan’s bedroom.
And he’s still lying there. Wonderful.
You nearly gag, but stop yourself. You’re never going to get used to this shit. At least there isn’t blood literally drenching the walls like that other case.
Moving on.
“Looks like it’s the exact same MO,” Morgan comments, idly checking the body for anything the officers might’ve missed.
You dig around on Jonathan’s dresser, drawers, nightstand, everywhere.
“This guy was seriously rich,” you mutter, picking up a few really expensive watches. Upon opening one drawer, you literally find a wad of cash. At least two thousand dollars, stuffed in between pairs of socks. “The unsub didn’t take this?” You hold up the cash to Morgan.
“She must not’ve spent time here,” he concludes. “Doesn’t look like she took any trophies either.”
“I can’t imagine why,” you say, then crack a smile. “So you’re on my side then, huh?”
He turns his head, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“It’s a woman.”
Morgan chuckles. “Yeah, kiddo. I’m on your side. This has woman all over it.”
“Kiddo,” you groan, tossing the cash back in the drawer. “Any clothes from the unsub lying around? I’m guessing she’s smarter than that.”
“Yeah, there’s nothing,” Morgan says, going into the bathroom. “The window in here is locked tight.”
“I really doubt she forced her way in,” you say. “He probably took her out on a date, brought her inside willingly, and didn’t realize until it was too late that he should not have messed with her.” You pause. “Does this place have security cameras? It looks expensive enough to have them. We should get Garcia to get the footage.”
You’re too busy rambling to see that Morgan has walked back into the room, only this time he’s eyeing you carefully.
You turn your head, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”
“Listen, I know these guys were…” He gestures rather than saying it.
“Rapists?” You say tiredly, placing your hands on your hips. No need to be afraid of saying the word around you. You’ve heard it plenty and said it yourself more times than you want to. “What about it?”
“I just wanted to say I know how good it can feel to see someone like that taken down,” Morgan says slowly. “And then you feel guilty for feeling good.”
You set your jaw, hating he’s right. You’ve yet to admit it to yourself, though. Isn’t it wrong? On multiple levels? You’re supposed to catch the bad guys, not relate to them so much that you understand why they’re doing this.
“And I know it can also bring up some bad memories, but, I’m here for you,” he says, keeping his eyes on yours. “I mean that.”
“Thanks, Derek,” you whisper. “It does...kinda feel good, but...I know it’s the wrong way to do it.”
“Do what?”
“Make a difference,” you shrug. “If I killed Trevor, I’d be taking the short route. That’s why I’m here. To make a bigger difference.”
He smiles then, gently. “And you’re doin’ it. Trust me.”
You let yourself smile, too. “Thanks. Now let’s get back to work before boss man comes in here telling us to focus,” you mimic Hotch’s voice and tone at the end, making yourself laugh as you turn back around.
And that’s when you have the absolute shit scared out of you because Hotch is standing there, frowning at you. Oh, he totally heard that.
“Sorry, sir,” you murmur, knowing you should apologize while you’re ahead.
Thankfully, to save yourself from embarrassment, Morgan’s phone starts ringing. He pulls it out and puts it on speaker.
“Talk to me, babygirl.”
“All of our other victims? Yeah, they were accused of rape, too. Four of them were acquitted or blatantly dismissed, three of them with such short sentences it probably felt like a vacation.”
You roll your eyes. “Sounds about right.”
Hotch eyes you, but talks to Garcia. “Get us a list of anyone in this region that fits those same criteria.”
“Already done, and it is heading to JJ as we speak.”
Morgan shakes his head at how good she is. “Oh, and check and see if you can get the footage from Jonathan’s security cameras at his house. Y/N thinks he should have some.”
“She’s correct, I just found them,” Garcia says, no doubt through a smile. “I’ll send the footage over and start looking.”
“We should get back to the station and go over those names, see if we can narrow it down at all,” Hotch says. “Hopefully Garcia can get us something from that video.”
+++
Garcia gathers one thing from the video, but it’s not anything to do with facial recognition.
For now, it’s obvious this woman is a strong suspect because she’s the only one seen entering and leaving the house (she walked out right through the front door with her head down) in the window of time that Jonathan was killed. But...
“There’s not a clear shot at all,” Garcia says. “Because they’re… How do I put this? His lips are basically attacking her face and it’s a miracle they made it inside instead of just going at it against the door.”
Morgan snorts out a laugh, Reid (who is working on connecting the nine victims further) goes impossibly red, and Hotch shakes his head.
“Well, we’ve got a physical description now,” Rossi says, trying to see the bright side before Hotch loses it, you’re sure.
“Yeah, but it’s just a young brunette in a dress and heels,” Emily argues. “That’s nowhere near narrow enough.”
“Brown hair is actually the second most common hair color,” Reid supplies. “The most common is black, but they’re usually lumped together in studies. A recent one found that 84% of the world’s population has dark hair. But, of course, women are more likely to color their hair than men—”
“We got it, kid,” Morgan says gently, tapping Reid’s shoulder to get him to slow down.
“So,” you chuckle, “she has dark hair, which are the two most common hair colors.” Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a thought occurs to you. “Wait, can I see the video again?”
Garcia plays it again.
“Pause there,” you point to the woman’s hands. “See how she reaches for his wrist?”
“Where are you going with this?” Morgan asks.
It’s then that it occurs to you just where you’re going with this, and you try to hide your embarrassment.
“You can play it again.” After a few seconds, you get Garcia to pause again. “See? She tries to pin his wrists. She’s dominating. She’s the one in control there. See how his back is against the door, too? He didn’t start that way, she turned them around to get the upper hand.���
“So she’s confident,” Emily ponders.
“In sexual situations, at least,” you add. “Some women who are outwardly shy, but like to dominate in bed. It can be different for everyone.”
“So you’re saying we’re looking for a super quiet, shy woman?”
“Not necessarily. Given that she has had enough confidence to kill these nine men without anyone noticing, I’d be willing to bet she’s pretty confident now. It could be a newfound confidence, or she honestly could have always been this way. A lot of Dominatrixes are pretty confident outside of the bedroom, too. Maybe not in the same way, but they are. Just comes with the territory.”
“A territory you seem to know a lot about,” Morgan teases, poking your shoulder.
You scoff. “You wish.”
But your eyes find Hotch’s and you feel another rush go through you, all the way to your toes. You burn every single time you’re underneath his gaze. Averting your eyes quickly back to the screen, you try to shift in your seat in the least noticeable way.
It’s not like he doesn’t already know. If he seriously doesn’t know or at least have some suspicion, then you might suggest he get a new profession.
Redirecting the attention back to the case, Hotch turns to Sheriff Ansley and says, “We’re ready to give a preliminary profile.”
The team stands to head out to the main area. You and Hotch are the last two left, which you’re sure he did deliberately.
“You should take the lead,” he says, and you swear, your heart falls out of your ass.
“What?” You’ve never taken the lead on a profile in your life. Why would he just spring this on you right now? On this case, of all cases? Seriously?
He doesn’t change his mind. “I trust you to get all of the details right. And we’ll jump in when needed, but I want you to take the lead.”
You’re shaking your head. “Hotch, I haven’t—”
“It’s an order,” he says, voice firm. “Understood?”
“Yes.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Yes what?”
Bastard. He did it again. “Yes sir.”
And your jaw nearly ends up on the floor when he smirks, a quiet, “Good girl,” falling from his lips.
Damn him. Now you’re supposed to give the profile? How bad would it be to let Emily take over so you can jump Hotch in the nearest supply closet?
You never find out how bad it would be because Hotch walks out and thanks the officers for being there, and introduces you, giving you zero time to recover.
“Thank you so much for your patience,” you say first. “The unsub we’re looking for is, in fact, a woman, confirmed by some security footage that was recovered from Jonathan King’s home. She’s a brunette, average height, attractive, and she’s confident. She’s killed nine times and hasn’t been caught yet, so she’s likely to be gaining confidence.”
An officer raises his hand, so you nod to him. “No offense...but your description fits practically every girl in this town -- I guess, besides the killing part.”
“That’s what we figured,” you admit. “Unfortunately, this kind of unsub is the hardest to catch. They don’t stand out at all, they blend right in. It’s partly why they go so long without being caught.”
“But they’re not impossible to catch,” Rossi adds, helping you out with the annoyed officers. “This unsub has already killed twice in a week, which could be a sign that she’s beginning to devolve. When they’re in this state, they are easier to catch because they tend to get reckless and forget things, change patterns, which is what we need.”
“So we need to keep a tight lid on this for now,” JJ says. “The media isn’t going to cover this at all tonight because we need our unsub to believe she’s still getting away with it.”
Another officer pipes up. “If the news isn’t gonna report this, how can we keep people safe?”
It’s a valid question. It’s one that you always get when you decide to not have media coverage.
“Keep an eye out. And don’t take any women home,” Morgan offers.
But that doesn’t seem good enough, because the same officer says, “All due respect, sir, but asking a man not to do that is like asking him not to breathe.”
The amount of laughter and you got that right’s that you hear from the other male officers makes your stomach twist. Morgan’s small laugh makes you want to smack him.
“Well, try to refrain for a while,” you state plainly, bringing the focus back around. “If you can help it.”
Another officer says, “I don’t know if I can…” and clicks his tongue mockingly.
“Well, this unsub targets rapists,” you say loudly, placing emphasis on the word. “So if you aren’t a rapist, consider yourself safe and sound.”
That causes an uncomfortable silence to settle over the room, but you could care less. It should make them uncomfortable. It’s unfair that it’s something women have to just live with. It’s bullshit.
Emily and JJ share a look with you, the only kind women can understand. Makes you want a drink. And it’s not even late afternoon yet.
Rossi helps draw things to a close while Hotch practically stares you down. Not subtle at all. You feel it, and for that reason, you don’t look at him. But he’s hard to ignore.
Especially when he walks over and says, “I need to have a word with you,” and walks past you, giving you no choice but to follow.
Well, you could choose not to follow, but you’re not so sure you want to take your chances there. Not that the thrill of the idea doesn’t get you all excited, but now is not the time or place.
So, with your heart racing and your annoyance showing clearly on your face, you follow your boss to an office at the end of the hall. He’s waiting for you, already inside, and he doesn’t look happy.
What’s new?
He shuts the door behind you, his arms crossing over his chest again.
After a few moments of silence, you raise your eyebrows. “What?”
“Don’t be a brat,” he says sternly, causing your stomach to twist for different reason. “And don’t say what. You know what.”
You shake your head slowly. “I don’t, actually. That’s why I asked.”
He looks ready to absolutely devour you in the worst way possible, yet he doesn’t move. “I understand that after the case in your hometown—”
“God, why does everyone keep bringing that up?” You’re two seconds away from throwing your hands in the air like a child, but you stop yourself after the look he gives you.
“Because it just happened three weeks ago,” he replies, voice even. “And because it took a toll on you. That’s not something to be ashamed of, it’s just a fact.”
“You’ve never been up my ass about cases like this, not until you found out.”
“My knowing has not changed anything,” he says, and you think he might mean it. “And last I checked, this is your first case with a female unsub attacking rapists.”
You could punch him. You really want to punch him. “What’s your point?”
“I need to know that you can be objective,” he says. “I know you relate to our unsub. I know how easy it was for you to put yourself in her shoes. You did it almost immediately. I bet you knew it was a female unsub within the first few seconds of the debriefing.”
He’s right. Dammit. “And?”
“I need you to be on our side of this case.”
“I am!”
“Are you?” He counters. “If you knew who this unsub was, would you turn her in?”
“Are you suggesting—”
“Hypothetically.”
“Yes! For God’s sake, yes, I would turn her in.”
“Are you being honest with me?”
“What is wrong with you today?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “If you have something else to say you might as well say it while we’re alone.”
He doesn’t move. Or say a single word.
So much for that.
“Look,” you uncross your arms, tired of fighting already. It’s exhausting on any normal day, but pair it with jet lag and it being between you and the man you obviously care for, and it’s a million times more exhausting. “Yes, I get where this unsub is coming from. Honestly, if it was legal and if there was a market for a job like what she’s doing, I probably would’ve gone into it instead of the FBI. But there isn’t. Because killing people is illegal. So I decided to go to the FBI to make a bigger difference— a real difference. Yes, I relate to the unsub. I get why she’s doing what she’s doing. But just because I get it doesn’t make it right.”
“Good,” he nods. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “I shouldn’t have even had to say it.”
The room falls silent.
Hotch sees it then, that look in your eyes. During the profile, it was all determination and confidence. When you entered the office, it was bratty and defiant. 
Now, it’s hurt.
That’s all he sees. And frankly, that’s all you’re feeling.
Since he doesn’t say anything else, you take it upon yourself to say, “Excuse me,” and join the team in the conference room with only one question on your mind.
Does he not trust me at all?
Next chapter
864 notes · View notes
shemarmooresfedora · 3 years
Note
hi hello bestie! congrats on 750 thats so huuge and you deserve all of it <3 can i ask for prompts #27 aand #47? thank youu
No Goodbyes
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Content/Warnings: angst with fluffy ending, swearing
Word Count: 0.9k
When you announced to the team that you were leaving the BAU, none of them were very happy to say the least. It was nothing personal, you loved the team but even Hotch agreed, you couldn’t pass up this promotion. It was a chance to lead your own team and a pretty good pay raise if you may add.
Despite her unhappiness about you leaving, Penelope was throwing you a farewell party. You decided to help her because you didn’t want her going overboard.
When you walked in on your last day, you wore a bright smile. Yes, it was sad but it was also the start of something new. You would see the team around.
“Good morning, Spence,” you greeted him just like you did every morning.
“Morning,” he muttered back with less enthusiasm than usual.
“Gonna miss me?” you asked with a grin.
He looked up at you from his file and grabbed his coffee mug, heading to the break room without a word.
You furrowed your brow and got back to work, finishing filling out your exit interview paperwork.
-
Even though you had helped plan, Penelope still managed to sneak a few surprises past you like a huge banner that said “Bon Voyage Y/N” and a massive cupcake platter.
“Pen, I said small and simple,” you reminded her.
She grimaced, “Then you’re not going to like the presents we got you.”
“Oh god,” you laughed.
“The girls are bringing you on an all-expenses-paid shopping spree for some boss babe couture!” Penelope exclaimed as JJ and Emily clapped excitedly.
“And Hotch, Rossi, and I built you a new desk and already moved it into your new office for you,” Derek smiled.
“Thank you very much, everyone! It’s much appreciated. I’m going to miss you all. Bring it in!” you outreached your arms for a group hug.
Everyone joined except for Spencer.
“Ooh cupcakes,” Emily grinned, eyeing the platter.
“What flavor?” Spencer asked.
“Vanilla!” Penelope replied.
Spencer frowned, “I prefer chocolate.”
“But, Y/N’s favorite is vanilla,” Penelope gritted her teeth.
Spencer shrugged and walked off. You didn’t see him for the rest of the party.
-
You were packing up your desk at the end of the day while people were beginning to shuffle out.
You were gently placing your belongings in the cardboard box when Spencer approached.
“That’s my mug,” Spencer pointed to the mug you had already put in your box.
You looked up at him with a flat expression, you dumped all the pens out of the mug and on to your desk and handed it to him.
“Happy now?” you deadpanned.
“That’s my pen too,” he pointed to one of the pens scattered on your desk.
“Then take it, take all of it. I don’t care anymore. You want it? Take it,” you finally snapped, "Today was supposed to be my day, Spencer, but you couldn’t get your head out of your ass for one second to congratulate me or even say goodbye. So I’m done. See you around…or not.”
You grabbed your box and stormed off to the elevator without looking back.
-
A knock sounded at your door later that night.
You opened it, revealing Spencer with a gift bag in his hand.
“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes and tried to close the door again but he shoved his foot in.
“Please just let me give you your gift,” he pleaded.
“Spencer, if this is some sort of mean prank, I really want no part,” you sighed.
“No, it’s not, I swear,” he promised.
“Fine,” you opened the apartment door all the way to let him in.
“I’m sorry I was so rude to you today,” he followed you to the couch.
“Why, Spence?” you asked.
“I guess I just have some residual feelings of abandonment,” he started to tear up, “Everyone leaves, Y/N, and I hate it. I hate goodbyes.”
You pulled him into a hug, “Spence, I know it won’t be exactly the same but I’m only moving two floors down and my apartment will be the same so I’ll still only be a 5 minute walk from you.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” he sniffled, “Open your present.”
It was the mug from earlier and a photo frame of the whole team.
“So you can never forget us even if you try,” he smiled softly.
“Do you know why I was trying to take this mug with me?” you asked.
Spencer furrowed his brow, trying to think back on any sentimental value the mug may hold.
“It was my first day and we had a case. I was so nervous. You offered me a coffee and I told you I didn’t have a mug to put it in yet and you gave me this one and told me I was going to do great on the case,” you smiled, reminiscing.
“And I wasn't wrong,” Spencer added, “I’m going to miss you so much, Y/N.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it then, Pretty Boy?”
Spencer looked up to gauge your facial expressions to see if you were joking or not. You were genuine.
“Will you go to dinner with me, Y/N? Like a date?”
“How about right now?” you smiled.
submit a blurb prompt request for my 750 celebration here! (closes on friday 7/9 11:59 P.M. EST)
129 notes · View notes
isthisthingeven0n · 3 years
Text
hear you : a.h
after celebrating your promotion with hotch, it tragically ends in an accident with you hospitalised and comatose. yet, somehow you can hear everyone around you, wishing for you to wake up. (1.9k) 
all my links
hear you / every word 
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)
DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING
Tumblr media
Everything that night occurred in an instant. No one had time to change what happened, even if you wished the events had happened in a different order.
If you hadn’t left the restaurant first and walked ahead whilst Hotch admired the fleeting moment. You were laughing giddily as you turned to face him, his arms were crossed over his chest as you danced, still joyful after celebrating your promotion. Perhaps if he caught up to you it would’ve been someone else lying on the ground.
Yet, as you lie on the ground, life draining from your gaze you can’t help but wonder; what if?
The events that lead to you strapped to a hospital bed lifelessly could have all been avoided. If the driver hadn’t drunk away his sorrows before picking up his children, families would still be together and one less hospital bed would be filled.
All you can hear is the monotone beeping of your heart monitor. The stench of antibacterial sprays and gels embed themselves into your nostrils alongside the fragrant flowers from Garcia that litter your private room. But out of everything in your environment, there’s one thing you’re still waiting on; to hear him, to hear Hotch by your side.
What you’re currently certain of is that you’re asleep, comatose. Yet, you can hear everything. This was the sort of thing you’d witnessed happen in TV shows, and you’ve listened to Spencer sitting beside you, explaining to Penelope that there have been no claims of comatose patients hearing voices. How they can hear movements or faint sounds, but no details of conversations. All you can do is wait whilst you remain trapped in your own thoughts, unable to react to anything said.
Your daily routine since being ‘awake’ is being checked multiple times a day by various Doctors and Nursers. They’re very caring as they monitor your heart rate, brain waves, temperature and your comfort levels. You listen to them report technical jargon to one another, and now you wish you paid more attention to Spencer last week after he visited his old Doctor.
Thankfully, you’re allowed to have visitors which makes all the difference- even if they are oblivious to the impact they’re making.
The first person to visit you tends to be Garcia, you can hear the urgency in her footsteps as her heels click against the lament flooring. She sits with you for a while before work, telling you about how Morgan keeps singing out of tune whilst she is on the phone to him. You wish you could laugh at the little things she describes, hearing about your family try and carry on without you.
Spencer stops by after work with JJ. You can hear how his voice cracks when he sits beside you, JJ on your other side as she rests her hand on yours. Spencer recites facts about comatose patients and if often interrupted by JJ with some happier news about Henry and describes the drawing she brought. You wish you could see it, feel the textures of the paint and cotton he used.
Yet, as much as you love your family, he still hasn’t been.
“Hey, baby girl.” You hear Morgan walk over toward you, pulling the ancient chair out as it squeaks against the floor. “Garcia tells me you’ve been on your own all day,” He begins and you internally chuckle. “and we can’t have that so I thought you’d love nothing more than your best man to come on by.” Morgan nudges your hand playfully and laughs to himself.
You’re desperate to laugh along, joke back like old times, tell him how much Penelope has been going on about their phone conversations and the workplace issues that have arisen.
“I know you haven’t seen him yet,” Morgan’s tone changes, the light-heartedness has dropped. “but he has been trying, trust me, we see it every day.” A sigh follows from him, and Morgan drops his head in his hands, thankful you haven’t had to witness the state Hotch has been getting himself into.
“He tries every day to come and see you, baby girl. He, he makes it to the entrance of the hospital and just,” Morgan knows exactly what it is, but he doesn’t want to tell you.
Sometimes, the silence is enough for you to figure it out. ‘It isn’t his fault.’ You want to yell out, scream at the top of your lungs, but you remain motionless, simply listening.
Hotch enters the hospital every day since the accident. He came in with you, running by your side as you were wheeled straight into surgery. He stood still as the doors slammed in front of him, taking you out of his sight.
“But erm, we found out about the guy who caused this. His name was Robert Kingshill.” Morgan starts, unaware that both Penelope and Spencer have already explained the details to you. You home in and out of Morgan’s explanation about how Robert was an abusive husband, his children both under 5 years. “He died on arrival.”
‘And no one will miss him.’
“Sorry to interrupt,” A new voice chimes in, one of the nurses who has been seeing to you; Savannah. She’s sweet, attentive and engages with your family. “I just have to check her vitals, I’ll be a few minutes at most.”
“Of course, do you want me to step out?” Morgan asks, his voice softening after he clears his throat. You can almost picture him sitting up straighter, flashing that signature Derek Morgan smirk.
“It’s okay, are we still on for dinner tonight?” Savannah asks, catching you completely off guard as your heart rate spikes. “Shit.” She mutters, watching as your heart rate relaxes once more, back to a normal pace.
“What was that?” Morgan speaks up, concern lacing his tone.
Savannah remains silent for a moment, too long for your liking. “Just a spike, they can happen now and then.” She brushes it off and steps out of the room, leaving Morgan with you alone once more.
*
“Do you think she can hear us?” Garcia asks as her hand remains in yours, holding it gently whilst Emily hovers by the window, watching as the rain falls against the window.
A loud disheartened sigh echoes. “I don’t know, Pen.” Emily states as she turns around. “But if she can, it’s kinda rude for her not to wake up.” Emily chuckles, and Penelope joins in for a second.
“If you can hear us, Y/n,” Penelope starts, and you can hear the shake in her voice. “we all love you, and miss you dearly.”
“We’re all still here, and will be until you wake up.” Emily adds as she smiles to Penelope, holding her hand out as she gladly accepts as tears fill her eyes once more.
Sniffing to herself, Penelope glances over to the empty doorway. “And, and Hotch misses you, Y/n. I know, I know he hasn’t been here yet, but he loves you, and Jack does too.”
The thought of Jack causes your heart to ache, how you miss that boy deeply in the evenings when you would go over. Jack would always ask for your help with homework or read with him before he went to sleep. Last month, he called you ‘Mom’ and you didn’t know how to react, neither did Aaron. But you let it happen, and carried it on.
Just as Jack felt he had a new Mom, he was at risk of losing her too.
“Come on, we ought to go, let her rest.” Emily states as she walks over to Penelope, taking her arm.
If only they could hear you. You were done with resting.
*
It has almost been a month. At least that is what you hear them say. Outside it has become colder, snow comes and goes, but it never sticks. With ease, you can now clearly differentiate the nurses and the doctors’ voices, even by the sigh after they do their checks. You’ve heard them discuss your frequent brain activity, which is a good sign. They’re now thinking you’re going to wake up, that it could be any day. But then again, they’ve been saying that for the last two weeks.
Another Doctor walks in and checks over you, nothing out of the ordinary as you wish he would stop humming that awful TV show tune. “You have a visitor this morning, Miss Y/L/N.” He states which is unusual, your visitors are never announced to you, they just sort of appear.
Your ears perk up to the sound of shuffling, quickly followed by a restricted sob, one you sadly could pinpoint; Aaron.
“Hi, Y/n,” Aaron quietly speaks up, his voice hoarse as the chair scrapes across the floor and he reaches out, taking your cold hand in his. “I’m sorry I haven’t been sooner.” He turns to business mode, forcing confidence even though he’s breaking apart, seeing you like this. “I just,”
‘It’s okay, Aaron. Take your time.’ You want to tell him, that it’s not easy, nothing about this is. But you simply listen as he exhales shakily and he takes lifts his other hand, enveloping yours into both of his.
A small sigh breaks the moment of silence. “Jack, he keeps asking about where you are. I’m running out of options here, Y/n.” He chuckles out of worry. “Jessica has been great, taking care of him and everything, I’ve barely left my office since the accident.” Hotch explains, seeing flashes of light illuminating you that night, like an angel. The excitement in your expression turning to pure terror as he ran toward you, but was too late.
Hotch was always too late to save the women he loves.
“I just, I need you, Y/n.” Hotch mutters. “I can’t lose you too, I just can’t.” Soft cries sound from him as the door opens, and he sniffs quietly.
“Sorry to interrupt, I’ll come back later.” Someone speaks up, and Hotch nods to them before returning his attention to you.
He tried not to stare at the evident wounds and scars that will line your skin forever. The stitches on your forehead from where you hit the ground.
Hotch will never forget how he held you in his arms as you were bleeding, eyes glazed over as he yelled for you to keep your eyes open.
“I know sometimes things aren’t always easy for us, with cases and barely having time to ourselves. But I really wanted that night to be special, you deserved a night to be reminded how wonderful you are.” Hotch chuckles dryly, looking around the room. “Look where that got us.”
‘It’s not your fault, Aaron.’ You scream internally, wishing you could just take hold of his hand, squeeze it tightly and never let go. ‘Please, just listen to me, please.’
“I know it’s taken me too long to get here, but I don’t know if I can do this, Y/n.” Hotch’s voice hitches as his hands begin to slip out from yours. “Reid mentioned how talking to comatose patients is supposed to help but er, I guess we’ll eventually find out.”
Rising to his feet, you plead for him to stay, to not leave you here alone.
“I love you Y/n.” Hotch calls out as he stands in the doorway, seeing your chest rising and falling rhythmically, remembering the days where you’d lie beside him in bed, enjoying the moment of tranquil before Jack wound run through the door, waking you from a deep sleep. “I promise I’ll be back soon.”
As Hotch turns the corner, he can’t stop the tears from falling as he collapses against one of the walls. Silent cries sound from his lips as a Nurse approaches him, but he brushes her off.
“Aar,” Your lips begin to part, a faint sound leaving them. But then silence returns, and you’re still trapped in your mind, wishing he could return.
PART TWO
380 notes · View notes
Text
The Witch and The Wolf Pt.60
Word Count: 4,072
Characters: Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent, Kate Argent, Braeden, Jordan Parrish, Kira Yukimura, Liam Dunbar, Berserkers, Lydia Martin, Malia Hale, Peter Hale, Calaveras, Reader
Pairings: Derek Hale x Witch!Reader
Warnings: angst, death, fluff, i think that’s all
Masterlist     Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
“As soon as I figure out what you’re planning, it’s over for you.”
You stood across from Peter, the two of you were upstairs in the loft, away from Derek’s hearing range.
“I’ve got nothing to hide, (Y/N),” he smirked.
“You’re working with Kate!” you exclaimed.
“Technically, I’m not. We had a mutual plan, working to shut down the Deadpool,” he crossed his arms while you rolled your eyes.
“How stupid do you think I am?” you scoffed.
“You know what? Screw this, I’ll just tell Derek that you're working with Kate,” you replied, taking a step back before he stopped you.
“If you tell him that I was working with Kate then I’ll tell him that you’re pregnant,” you froze in your steps, taking a deep breath before you turned to him.
“Werewolves are in the womb for a shorter amount of time. I can already hear a heartbeat,” he leaned against the wall as you clenched your jaw.
You couldn't add to more stress, especially now with Scott and Kira missing.
“Don’t think I’m not watching you,” you replied.
“Oh, I would never,” you could see that stupid cocky grin on his face as you exhaled sharply, walking down the stairs.
You could see Derek leaning against the table, resting his head in his hands. You could tell he was upset, and you could feel his pain.
“Hey,” you said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey,” he put his arm around your waist, pulling you in slightly.
“Are you okay?” you asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just getting these weapons ready for Mexico,” he replied.
Your face dropped slightly.
“I thought we agreed that you were going to stay here.”
Not this again
“No, you said that. I never replied.”
“Derek, it's not safe,” you ran your fingers through your hair.
“It’s not safe for anyone. But Kira and Scott are gonna die if we don't do something.”
“You could die, though.”
“So could any one of us.”
“Well, I don't care about them, I care about you!” he was surprised when you raised your voice, taking a deep breath.
“They’re your friends, (Y/N),” he put his hand on your cheek, stroking it softly.
“I know, I didn't mean that,” you shook your head.
“If I don't come back then so be it. I’d die for Scott any day,” he replied.
You wrapped your arms around him tightly, your eyes watering before you sniffled, shutting them tightly.
“Braeden said she got the van. We’re supposed to meet her downstairs in a few hours,” Derek said.
You nodded your head softly, sitting down next to him on the couch while he laid his head on top of yours, holding you close.
---
“No, I’ve been calling Lydia for a while, she’s just not answering,” you frowned, walking into the garage with Derek and Braeden by your side.
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
“Lydia isn't picking up. She went to the school to grab something with Kira’s scent,” Stiles explained.
“Well, we can’t wait for her,” Derek said.
“How about she meets us on the road?” you suggested.
“No, we can’t just leave her alone,” Stiles shook his head.
“I’ll text Mason. He’s probably at school anyway, I’ll tell him to look for Lydia,” Liam asked.
Stiles sighed, before nodding his head.
“What’s the worst Kate can do to Scott and Kira?” you could feel Stiles’ anxiety radiating off of him.
“I don’t know,” you replied softly.
“Right… she can’t steal a true alpha’s power, right?” you turned to face Derek, while he shrugged.
“If somehow she was able to turn me 15 again, who knows what she can do to Scott,” he said.
You sighed, rubbing your fingers through your hair.
“Let’s go,” you nodded.
“Okay, yeah I’ll ride with Derek and Liam since I have experience with out-of-control teen wolves,” Stiles nodded.
You rolled your eyes, before turning to Peter, who had a smirk on his face.
“I’m gonna ride with Peter and Malia,” you immediately said.
You could feel Derek giving you a confused look.
“Someone has to keep an eye on him,” you explained.
“I’ll be doing that,” Malia shrugged.
You could feel all eyes on you while you clenched your jaw, looking at Peter’s smirk.
“I thought you hated Peter,” Liam asked.
“I do,” you replied quickly.
“So then just come with us,” Derek raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious of you.
“Yeah, whatever. Let’s just go,” you avoided eye contact with Derek before making your way to the truck.
You waited for Derek, Liam, and Stiles to sit inside, before you went in beside them. Braeden pulled you over, stopping you.
“What’s the problem?” she asked.
“Peter, we need to keep an eye on him. He’s working with Kate,” you explained quietly.
“Why can’t Derek know?” she asked.
“He's going to want to do something, but I just need to come up with a plan. The only problem is I have no idea what Peter’s planning,” you muttered.
“Okay, we’ll drive behind him. Does that work?” she asked.
“For now,” you nodded.
She walked to the front seat, while you sat across from Liam and Stiles, holding Derek’s hand.
---
“Okay,” you put the lock around the chains, securing them before pulling on them, making sure Liam wouldn't be able to break through them.
“Here,” you saw Derek hand him the triskelion talisman while you gave him a look.
“It’s been in my family for centuries. It’s a very powerful supernatural talisman,” he explained.
Reverse psychology
You were surprised it would work on werewolves but didn't question it.
“Are you okay,” Derek whispered softly to you.
You raised an eyebrow, before nodding your head.
“I don’t need powers to feel the anxiousness radiating off of you.”
You had barely focused on anything that was going on. Most of your energy was focused on making sure you wouldn't get sick on the way and focused on keeping your pregnancy a secret until after Scott, Derek, and Kira were safe.
“I’m fine. Are you okay?” you replied.
He nodded before you put your head on his shoulder.
The car was nearly silent for a few hours, with the occasional words from Stiles, but you could tell he was also scared for Scott's life.
You heard Liam groaning, while you sat up, realizing the moon was up, it was night.
“Okay. Liam, look at the talisman. Each spiral on the triskelion means something, okay?” you tensed slightly as Derek moved closer to Liam, seeing Liam’s eyes glow yellow.
“Alpha, beta, omega. It reminds us that an alpha and fall to a beta, and that a beta can become an alpha,” Derek explained.
“Can an alpha become an omega?” Liam asked.
Derek nodded his head softly.
“Use it as a mantra. Alpha, beta, omega,” Derek said.
“Alpha, beta omega,” Liam repeated.
“Slower,” you said.
“Alpha… beta… omega,” he repeated slower.
He shut his eyes tightly, while you saw him digging his nails into his hands.
“It’s not working!” he yelled.
“Keep trying,” you said.
You felt the entire van shake, while Braeden swerved slightly. Liam broke from his handcuffs, immediately attacking Derek.
“Prohibe.”
Your eyes were purple as you pushed Liam aside, using all your strength to pin Liam down.
“Liam! Focus!” you yelled.
“Well, it’s clearly not working,” Stiles exclaimed.
“Do you have any better mantras?!” you yelled.
He sighed, before frowning.
“Yeah, I do actually.”
“Colligationem,” Stiles made his way next to Liam.
“Liam, what are three things that cannot long be hidden?” Stiles asked.
You felt Liam digging his claws into your arm as you winced, taking shaky breaths.
“Liam! What are three things that cannot long be hidden?” Stiles asked again.
“The sun, the moon, the truth,” you felt Liam release his grip on you as you let out a deep breath.
You heard Liam continue to repeat it, before his eyes reverted back to his normal color, falling to his side.
You broke the spell from him, stumbling back.
“(Y/N),” Derek put his hand on your arm, examining your wounds.
“I'm sorry, (Y/N),” you could hear the weakness in Liam’s voice as you shook your head.
“Don’t worry about it, kiddo,” you watched as you slowly healed, while Derek frowned.
“How did you do that?” he whispered.
“A spell,” you started.
“You can't heal yourself with magic,” he replied.
“Derek,” you shook your head.
“I’m not an idiot, I know you’ve been hiding something from me,” he replied softly.
You could see Stiles and Liam looking at the two of you while you sighed.
“Can we talk about this later?” 
“Who knows if later is even gonna come?” 
You frowned, looking up at him.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“Forget I said anything,” he scoffed.
“Derek,” you put your hand on his shoulder while he scooted away from you.
You put your hands on your head, looking outside the window.
---
The past few hours were silent, while you bounced your leg, biting the skin around your nails.
You felt the van come to a halt, seeing La Iglesia outside the window.
Derek stepped out first, seeing him being pulled out of the van while you jumped, hearing him yell out.
You ran out of the van in fear, feeling your heart racing as you saw a berserker holding down Derek, running its bone fist through Derek.
“Repellunt,” your tears were at bay as you used your magic to pull the berserker off of Derek, pulling Braeden’s gun from her while firing repeatedly at the berserker.
You watched as it ran away, your tears falling freely as your heart began to ache, seeing Derek slumped over across from you.
You ran to him, throwing the shotgun down, putting your hand over Derek’s wounds.
“I-I can heal you. J-Just give me a second,” you could hear his shaky breathing as blood continued to fall out of his wounds.
“Instaurabo,” your eyes were purple, while you put your hands on his wounds. 
Nothing happened, while you continued to try, your tears blurring your vision.
“(Y/N),” you heard Derek groan.
“I don't know why it’s not working,” you continued to repeat the spell.
“(Y/N),” he said again, slightly strained.
“You guys, go in. Find Scott and Kira. Save them. I’m right behind you,” you watched as Stiles hesitated, before nodding his head.
“Save him, (Y/N),” you heard Stiles say before he, Malia, Peter, and Liam ran into the church.
“(Y/N),” Braeden put her hand on your shoulder.
“Do you have a first aid kit?” you asked.
She shook her head no.
“I-It’s fine. I just have to clear my mind,” the thought of losing Derek like this stuck in your head, while his blood covered your shaking hands.
“Looks like Lydia was right after all,” Derek laughed softly, before you heard him coughing, blood coming out of his mouth.
“No, you’re not dying like this,” your voice wavered as you looked down at him.
He put his hand on top of yours while more and more tears rushed down your face.
“You need to go help Stiles,” he said softly.
“I’m not leaving you,” a small cry fell from your lips before you bit them, taking a deep breath.
“You need to,” he said.
You cried softly, shutting your eyes.
“I can’t do this without you,” you cried.
You saw his eyes water slightly as he sniffled.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“No,” you shook your head, pressing your hands onto his wound tightly as he groaned.
“We can still save you,” you continued to press onto the wound and he yelled out in pain.
“(Y/N), I’m begging you to stop,” he said.
“No, you're not dying!” you yelled.
“Braeden,” you heard Derek say.
You felt her pull on your arm while you pushed her off.
“I love you,” he said softly.
“I love you too, Derek. Please, let me try,” you begged.
“We’re not alone,” you heard Braeden say as you tried to hold back your tears.
“Okay, we’re going to split up. Take a shotgun,” she motioned as you shook your head.
“What about Derek?” you said.
“If you don't leave him, all three of us are going to end up dead.” 
Your hands were shaking as you took Derek’s gun out of his pocket.
“Shoot anything that moves,” he nodded his head while you stood up shakily.
Your heart was aching fiercely as you took deep breaths. You felt an overwhelming sense of anger taking over you. Kate did this to him, and you were going to make her pay.
---
You walked around the building, keeping your eyes out for any sign of anyone or anything. You heard a noise, peeking over a corner to see Kate making her way with a berserker next to her.
You aimed the shotgun at the berserker, firing rapidly, yet seeing no effect on it. You heard the shotgun click, as all the bullets laid on the floor.
You saw the berserker charging towards you as you pulled out your gun, aiming it at the berserker to try and phase it, but nothing happened.
“Obice,” you formed a barrier around yourself, jumping slightly as the berserker hit it, trying to break through.
You felt it break through as you stumbled backward, while it put its hands around your throat, pushing your back against the wall as you struggled for your breath.
You tried to pull it off of you, only for its grip to get tighter.
“You know I wouldn't want to hurt a pregnant woman. You’re making this hard on me,” you could hear her taunting voice as your eyes watered slightly.
“Then do it. Kill me. You already killed Derek. Kill me too,” you saw her frown slightly, before shaking her head.
“I didn't do anything to him,” you felt slightly dizzy before hearing a gunshot from beside you, aiming at Kate.
She groaned while the berserker took its grip off of your neck, as you gasped for air.
“(Y/N),” Parrish ran to you, helping you up.
You noticed more and more cars pull up near you, seeing Chris walking to you. You tensed slightly, seeing Araya walking next to him.
The Calaveras
---
You heard guns firing continuously at Kate and the berserkers as you ran to Derek.
“Look, we have help now. They must have something we can use to save you,” the tears never left your eyes as he looked at you, a soft smile on his face.
“Thank you for making life worth living,” you felt like your heart was about to burst from your chest as you shook your head.
“No, Derek,” he closed his eyes, while you heard his last breath fall from his mouth, seeing his body stop moving.
“Derek, wake up. Get up, p-please,” you cried, wrapping your arms around his limp body.
You gasped for air, shutting your eyes tightly as you pulled him in, your body shaking with each sob.
---
“We’re almost out of ammo,” your eyes were bloodshot, your jaw clenched as you stood next to Parrish, keeping your eyes on Kate as you continued to fire at her.
“Screw this,” you threw the gun onto the floor, running to Kate.
“Hold your fire! Stop!” you heard Chris yelling, while you continued running to Kate, wrapping your arms around her neck tightly.
“You're gonna pay!” you yelled, your eyes glowing purple.
“If you kill me you’ll just turn into a demon again. Is that really what you want, (Y/N)?” her voice was strained as you tightened your grip on her neck.
“I don’t care!” you shouted.
You could feel the life leaving her body.
“(Y/N), let her go. You don't want to do this again,” you heard Chris approaching you as you clenched your jaw, pressing down on Kate.
“(Y/N) you don't want to go down this path again,” Chris warned.
“She killed Derek. She has to pay,” a tear fell from your face while Kate smirked.
“You’re not as strong as you think you are, (Y/N),” her eyes flashed a dark green before she growled, striking your face.
She pushed you down, before wrapping her hands around your neck.
“You were so close. Say hi to Derek in hell for me, okay?” you heard a gunshot, seeing Kate getting pushed off you while a yellow bullet flew into her arm.
Yellow wolfsbane
Chris pulled you up.
“Let me take care of her, (Y/N),” Chris shook his head. 
Kate grabbed a gun from her pocket, aiming it at you as she stood up.
Before you processed it, you heard a sound, a wolf howling.
You tensed as the wolf charged towards Kate, pushing her over and attacking her.
“Back up,” Chris pushed you back slightly, while you continued to watch as the wolf attacked Kate.
Your eyes went wide, watching as the wolf shifted into something else, into someone else.
Derek stood in front of you, looking down at Kate as you gasped, tears of joy rushing down your face.
He turned to face you while you ran to him, wrapping your arms around him tightly.
“I wasn’t dying, I was evolving,” he said softly.
“So much for no Pokémon, yeah?” you put your hands on his face, putting your forehead on his.
“Shut up,” he scoffed, putting his hands on either side of your face, before pressing a kiss to your lips.
“Oh my god,” you let out a breath of relief, tightening your grip on him.
“I love you so much,” you said softly.
“I love you too, (Y/N/N),” you closed your eyes softly before gasping, remembering the rest of them.
“Scott!” you yelled out.
You turned to Chris, who nodded his head.
“Go save him. I’ll take care of Kate,” you nodded softly before the two of you ran into the church.
---
“Where the hell are they?!” the two of you ran into the church frantically, looking for any sign of Scott or Stiles, or any of them.
“I can hear them… they're this way,” Derek continued to lead you further into the church.
“You have your powers back,” you said.
“Yeah, I feel better than ever,” your eyes widened, seeing Kira, Stiles, Liam, and Malia all laying on the floor, while Scott was pinned down by Peter.
Something was different, he wasn't just a werewolf anymore. He changed too.
“Traho,” you pulled Peter off of Scott, while Derek wrapped his arms around him, restraining him.
“It’s nice to see you’ve got your strength back, Derek,” Peter said, letting out a bitter laugh.
“Was this your plan all along? To kill Scott?” you scoffed.
“He doesn't deserve to be an alpha,” he barked while Derek tightened his grip.
“You don’t either. You’re a monster, Peter,” you spat.
Scott walked shakily in front of Peter, his eyes glowing red.
He swung his fist, while you looked at him in surprise, seeing Peter collapse onto the floor, unconscious.
“I don't think I’ve ever seen you knock out someone like that,” you said.
“Oh, shut up,” he wrapped his arms around you and Derek, while Derek tensed, before hugging Scott back.
“What happened to you?” Scott asked Derek.
“I’m okay,” Derek nodded, a small smile on his face.
You walked to Liam and Malia, helping them up while Scott helped Kira.
“I feel like I broke something,” Stiles muttered.
You scoffed, while the six of you hugged each other tightly.
Scott tensed, before looking up.
“I hear something,” Scott said.
Derek frowned, before raising an eyebrow.
“There's only seven of us here,” he said.
You frowned slightly, confused.
“I hear it too,” Malia nodded.
“Hear what?” Stiles asked.
“The extra heartbeat,” you bit your lip slightly, giving a look to Derek, trying to find the words to say.
“It’s coming from right here. Is there someone under us?” Liam asked.
“Guys,” you said softly.
“We’ll split up,” Derek held your hand before you shook your head.
“Guys,” you raised your voice, while the rest of them turned back to look at you.
“There’s no one else here,” you said.
“What do you mean?” you turned to face Derek, while he frowned.
The rest of the pack kept their eyes on you while you took a deep breath.
Just say it
You gave Derek a nervous smile, before scratching the back of your head.
“(Y/N),” Derek put his hand on your shoulder.
“T-The heartbeat is coming from… our kid…” your voice trailed off while you saw Derek’s face drop, hearing the rest of the pack yelling.
“You’re pregnant?! Is that why you’ve been acting like a bitch to me?!” Stiles exclaimed.
“How are you pregnant? I-I mean, well, I know the how but like… what?” Scott was baffled, shaking his head.
You continued to look at Derek, trying to get a reaction.
“Are you upset?” you heard the rest of the pack’s voices die down.
“Guys… give us a moment alone,” you felt your heart racing as Derek motioned for the rest of them to leave you two, taking Peter with them.
They nodded, walking out while he put his hand on your cheek.
“Did you want kids?” he asked softly.
“No, I-I mean raising a kid in this life… it isn’t safe, and-” 
“Hey,” he put his hands on either sides of your face, wiping away the tears you didn't know you had.
“It doesn't matter if I want a kid, it isn't safe,” you shook your head.
“If you want kids, we will figure this out and we will be safe. So, do you want kids?” he asked again.
You nodded softly, while he wrapped his arms around you tightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“It looks like we’re having a kid,” he pressed his forehead against yours as you let out a shaky breath, laughing softly.
“How are we gonna do this?” you cried softly.
“All I know is that we can figure this out, together,” you nodded, while he continued to hug you tightly.
“I am more than happy to have this kid with you. I love you, (Y/N), and I’m going to love this kid too.”
He put his hands on your waist while you put yours around his neck.
“I don't know how I thought you were going to react,” you shook your head.
“Well, I wouldn't have control over this. The best I can do is support the woman I love,” he said softly.
“I'm lucky to have you,” you put your head on his.
“Well, I have a badass girlfriend who fought a bunch of berserkers, hunters, and Kate Argent while being pregnant. So, which one of us is really the lucky one?” you smirked softly while he put his arm around your shoulder, the two of you walking out of the church.
---
“I promised Araya that I would go back with them after this, and help them,” you stood next to Chris, the two of you outside of the church.
It was bright outside, the sun was shining. To anyone else, it would look like a picture perfect scene.
“When will you come back to Beacon Hills?” you asked.
“I don’t know yet. Not for a while,” he shook his head.
You wrapped your arms around him tightly, feeling tears come to your eyes as you blinked them back.
“Thank you for everything, Chris. I-I don’t know what I’d be without you,” you felt him pause, before hugging you tighter.
“I love you, kiddo,” you pulled away from him, seeing him crying as you laughed softly, wiping away your tears.
“Stay safe. Don't get yourself killed,” you said softly.
“Same to you. You have your own family now. You need to be careful,” you nodded, while he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
You watched as he walked away, getting into the van as Derek walked to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he put his arm around your shoulder.
You watched as the van drove off, before turning to Derek.
“Ready to go home?” he asked softly.
You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder before the two of you made your way to the van. The rest of the pack was already waiting, as Derek held your hand tightly, pressing a small kiss to it.
“I love you, (Y/N/N),” he said softly.
“I love you too.”
101 notes · View notes
jediken0bi · 3 years
Text
At The End Of The Day
Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary:
Reid is scared his Job is eventually going to take away the thing he loves the most. You.
word count: 2023
-
Spencer sat on the counter in the kitchen, sipping on his sugary coffee and watching you move around the room. You decided you wanted homemade Waffles this morning and Spencer made the quick decision to not even attempt to lend a helping hand. He usually ends up burning half of the food anyway so you're not complaining.
And if you're being honest you liked being able to do something nice for him while he relaxes. It's not like that's something you get to see all that often.
You really only get to have Spencer to yourself on the Weekends and even then your time together isn't always guaranteed.
That's something you guys struggled with a lot. He even more so than you now that you think about it. He is so quick to beat himself up over not being able to spend more time with you and it breaks your heart.
Of course you would like to see your boyfriend more often but you know how much he loves his Job and you would never ask him to quit or hold his crazy schedule against him.
After all, it's not Spencers fault serial killers don't take the weekends off.
You throw little glances at Spencer every time you add a little bit of batter into the Waffle Maker and each time you find him already looking at you with loving eyes and a silly smile plastered on his face.
You can't help but giggle a bit before shaking your head lightly.
There are certainly days where you can't wrap your head around the fact that the genius with the pretty face feels the same affection towards you as you do.
Another minute goes by before he puts his coffee down, pushes himself off the counter and walks over to you to carefully wrap his arms around your waist.
"Someone is awfully cuddly this morning", you say with a huge smile on your face. You lean into his touch so he knows you don't actually mind the closeness.
He still has days where he can't tell whether or not you're making a lighthearted joke or are trying to reject his advances. It took him a long time to be able to initiate physical contact without you having to make the first move or ask for it.
That's not because he didn't love you though. He simply didn't know what to do in a relationship.
He was trying to figure out the do's and don't's and you were more than happy to help him learn and understand what it means to be truly loved by someone.
Nowadays he doesn't hesitate to seek comfort in your arms and there's nothing you can think of that makes you happier than that.
All you ever wanted was for Spencer to feel at home with you.
He put his head on your shoulder and smiled into the crease of your neck
"I can't help it. I haven't seen you in 8 days, 5 hours and 24 minutes and now that i'm here i don't wanna waste a single second of it"
You silently put the last Waffle on the plate you set out and turned your head so you could face him.
You try to catch his eyes and as soon as you do, you press a light peck onto his pink lips.
"I missed you so much", you say while he softly grabs your waist to turn you around positioning you so that you're facing him.
He presses gentle kisses to your forehead, your nose, your cheek and suddenly stops right before your lips.
"I missed you too, my love"
Before you can form an answer he plants a firm and loving kiss on your lips making you forget about breakfast for a second.
But only for a second.
You start smiling into the kiss and lightly push him away. The distance between you two only big enough to let you catch your breath before you laugh and say
"Let's go eat. We haven't had breakfast together in a bit and i wanna cuddle on the couch and watch some Doctor Who"
He laughs and nods his head so his short curls fall into his face.
You bite your lip to suppress a grin before tucking the lose strand of hair behind his ear.
He reaches behind you to grab the plate and makes his way towards the couch you two picked out just over a month ago.
You follow him immediately, feeling giddy that you get to cuddle your boyfriend for the first time in days.
He puts the plate down, plops down on the couch and immediately opens his arms to invite you to get comfortable in them.
While you snuggle into his chest he grabs the remote and starts queuing Doctor Who Episodes for you guys to watch and analyze together.
You wrap your arms around his torso and bury your head into his neck. You sigh happily and plant tiny kisses on his shoulder and neck.
He tightens one of his arms around you and starts playing with your hair
-time skip-
Almost three hours later, the waffles long gone, you get up to get some drinks for the two of you.
As the credits to the third episode start rolling you can't help but notice that Spencer had gotten unusually quite.
You sit down next to him, put a hand on his arm and ask with a calm voice
"Baby what's wrong? You got so quiet and it looks like something's bothering you. Did something happen at work? Did the case end bad? Whatever it is Spencer i want to be there for you"
He looks at you with wide eyes. Almost like a kid with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. He looks guilty and it's making you nervous. You know you can't push him but you would be lying if you said you weren't worried.
He looks down for a second unsure of his next move. He takes a deep breath and hesitantly turns around to look at you.
Your hand immediately finding its place on your boyfriends jaw. Running your thumb over his stubble in a calming matter.
He leans into your touch and closes his eyes for a second.
You knew that he would eventually start talking so you had no problem patiently waiting for him to summon the courage to say whatever was on his mind.
"I was talking to Morgan the other day and he said something that got me thinking. Actually, i think it's fair to say that thinking turned into overthinking really quick. Although i don't know anymore. At this point, it might be a completely valid fear and i'm just trying to convince myself it's not. Of course you could apply that logic the other way around as well but - I'm rambling, aren't it", he says in pretty much one breath.
You show him a understanding smile and say,
"Yeah but it's okay. I want to hear what's on your mind. No matter how confusing"
He looks up at me and smiles with sad eyes
"I know you do and that's why the thought of ever losing you drives me completely insane"
You stare at him for a moment not understanding why he would be thinking of losing you before taking his hand into yours and asking
"Spence, do you want to tell me what you and Morgan talked about?"
He sighs loudly and runs his thumb over the back of your hand.
Looking straight at you he decides 'Now or Never'.
"He just broke up with his girlfriend and we were all trying to be there for him. He seemed completely fine but you never know with Morgan so i went to talk to him about the break up and he just smiled at me and said 'It is what it is, Pretty Boy. Relationships are doomed to break in our line of profession. Enjoy it while it lasts' "
he tells you doing a weird impression of Derek.
Under different circumstances you would've laughed.
You look at Spencer with a small smile on your face. He looks so distressed, you can't help but run your hand through his curls and climb into his lap.
He doesn't waste a second wrapping his arms around you to secure your position and before he can question you, you say
"So that's what this is about? You thinking i might leave you because of your Job?"
He shakes his head slightly and looks up to meet your eyes
"No this is about you deserving a boyfriend who doesn't spend 90% of his time a couple of states away from you every week. It's about me not wanting to make you feel like you come second when there's nothing that's more important to me than you. I would quit my Job if you asked me to. There's plenty of Jobs out there but no one quite like you. I hate to think that you might come to resent me for being away so much"
You run your hand through his curls again and smile softly. It's your turn to shake your head.
"What i deserve is a boyfriend who loves me for who i am. Someone who cares about my feelings and thoughts. Someone who doesn't mind binge watching Doctor Who with me on the weekends because i like that way better than going out. Someone who reads my favorite book so we can have a conversation about it. Someone who shows me how much he cares every single day. And i already have all that. I don't need anything or anyone else. I promise."
Spencers eyes are shut tightly and he leans his forehead on yours. He presses a light kiss to your nose and wistfully admits
"I'm just so scared my Job is going to take you away one day"
You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper
"I know a thing or two about that. Baby, you do so much good in the World. I couldn't be more proud if i tried. Let me ask you something. You like your Job, right? Despite everything it asks of you?"
He nods softly and opens his eyes
"I love my Job. Helping people gives me a chance to make a real change. It's what i've always wanted to do."
You smile at him and hum in agreement
"That's right. And you love me too, right?", you ask cheekily
He looks at you like you hung the moon, grabs your hand to press a soft kiss against it and says
"Of course i do. More than anything"
You once again nod in agreement.
"Then you have to understand that the World isn't always 'This or That'. I would never ask you to quit your job for me. I wouldn't want that. I love you too much to take away the thing that fulfills you and makes you happy. Relationships take work, Spencer. I'm not saying it won't be rough sometimes but at the end of the day you're my Clark Kent to the BAU's Superman and i wouldn't change a thing"
He looks at you with loving eyes that are glazed over with unshed tears and whispers
"I'm going to marry you one day, i promise. I'm going to spend the rest of my life showing you that you're loved beyond compare"
He starts covering your face in kisses resulting in you laughing at his antics.
This wasn't the first time you two talked about marriage. You knew that he was the man you were going to walk down the aisle to. There wasn't a doubt in your mind.
You push him back down on the couch so you can lay down on his chest and say
"Now that we've established that you looove me, i think it's time for you to start the next episode. It's my favorite!"
You said it in a mocking voice but it genuinely did make your heart beat faster and he knew that.
"Damn straight i do", he says as he reaches for the remote.
Weekends with Spencer are simply the best.
192 notes · View notes
Text
The Prodigal Daughter Chapter 2/?
Story Summary: As the secret daughter of Jason Gideon, you’ve always had a certain proclivity towards profiling. After finishing the Academy, you finally have your chance in the BAU- only months after your dad’s passing. Will it all be too much? Will you find yourself sharing another proclivity with your father for a certain genius with big puppy dog eyes? A/N: Thank you all for the amazing response to the first chapter! This one came quickly and I just couldn't stop writing it! I can’t believe people asked to be tagged in this already, but I guess if you want to be tagged, let me know in the comments! shoutout to @candlesandsoftrain for beta-ing! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
 Category: Fluff/getting to know you games with the team Content Warning: So much tension, mildly grumpy Spencer, sexually charged drinking games, etc. Later chapters will include NSFW Word Count: 7000+ (Sorry it really got away from me!)
Previous Chapter
Chapter 2
The rest of the day passed by with a lot of questions, a lot of pilfered off paperwork from each member of the team- it was your turn to help out with all there was to do today. Newbie had to be inducted somehow. Reid was the only one that didn’t offer you any of his- it probably had something to do with the fact that even though his pile was significantly larger than anyone else’s, he was getting through it almost at triple the speed. Dad had mentioned something about his quick reading skills, but you couldn’t remember the exact number of words he could read a second. That was a question you could ask him later, you reminded yourself.
Once Hotch’s voice sounded through the room signaling that it was time to head out for everyone, you could feel the energy in the room change. It was palpable. They clearly hadn’t gotten a chance to have a fun time with each other in a while.
You stood up and gathered your things slowly, letting everyone slowly filter out of the office. You had decided that you wanted to keep Dad's notebook in your go bag so you’d always have him with you on cases, but now as you had a moment alone, you slipped an old family picture of Dad, Stephen and yourself into your desk drawer, hiding under your files and paperwork. A little piece to always be here, in the bullpen, where he belonged.
You wiped a tear from your eye, and as you grabbed your bag to get going, you noticed Spencer watching you from the door. You smiled sheepishly at him. “Sorry, you didn’t have to wait for me. I just… wanted to take in the end of my first day. I’ve been waiting for this day a very long time. Didn’t think it would be quite this… uneventful, as far as BAU standards go, but I’m actually glad it was.” You said to him as you got closer, noticing him clutching his messenger bag.
Shrugging, he held the door open for you. “It’s not a problem. They get horse blinders when they finally get to go out together and forget that maybe some people don’t know where to go.” He pushed the button for the elevator. In this moment, you remembered what you’d said about comfortable silence. It was nice to be here with him, the hum of the AC around you, the sound of Spencer picking at something at the strap on his bag. You closed your eyes for a moment and took it all in… you could smell his cologne, he was so close to you. And something very reminiscent of… old books? He really must live in an apartment just surrounded by books.
“Thanks for waiting for me. I probably would have just called Unc-” You stopped yourself, hoping he didn’t notice. “Dave, if I got left behind. Since trying to go home would have resulted in being yelled at by him for a while.” You both entered the elevator, and he turned and looked at you as he pressed the button to go down to the ground floor.
“Dave?” He asked, eyebrow raised.
You blushed, shrugging. “I’ve known him for a long time. He’s a good family friend… through my mom. They knew each other when they were young.” God, you hated lying, but it was only a little bit of a lie. Your mom and Rossi DID know each other well, and they have known each other a long time. But Uncle Dave wasn’t a part of your circle because of your mom.
Spencer looked like he noticed the slight change in your tone, but he was polite enough not to press you for more. “Okay So the bar- it’s called The Greasy Pub and it’s on 7th. I’ll meet you there? I take the bus, so I’ll be a little later than everybody else.” He said, shifting his weight from side to side on his feet.
Your brows knit together, and you looked at him a little confused. “Why didn’t you hop in with someone else?”
The cutest blush stained his cheeks. “I have an eidetic memory, and I can remember what it felt like to be the new kid on this team like it happened yesterday. I hope to never let anyone feel the anxiety and fear of being left out like I did. I was also only 24 at the time, and was the youngest BAU member ever, so that didn’t help.”
More touched than you could lead on, you touched his bicep and squeezed it. “Thank you, that’s incredibly kind of you. I feel bad though, you lost a ride with one of your friends. Would… would you like a ride in my car? I’d hate for you to have to take the bus. I hated the bus when I had to take it. Did you know that out of all the bacteria found on New York City public transport, 32 per cent was associated with the gastrointestinal tract and 30 per cent was skin. Another 20 per cent was associated with the genital area.” You rattled off. Germs were a thing for you too, you just dealt with it and constantly washed your hands.
To say Spencer looked impressed would be an understatement, and the way his eye changed when you caught it… wow, you’d never felt a heat rage in your tummy like that look made you feel.
“It was actually 29 percent skin, mostly assumed to be hair follicles and from people scratching at anything itching them.” He said with a glint in his eye. You didn’t feel challenged, just… understood? And seen. “But yeah… I wouldn’t mind a ride, if you wouldn’t be opposed.”
You led him to where you parked once the elevator dinged, and you both got in and buckled up. Your favorite artist’s music immediately started playing, a lot of favorites from people who you’ve loved- you collected things that reminded you of those that were special to you.
You drove in comfortable silence, and though you both kept looking at eachother out of the corner of your eyes, neither of you said much. You’d never felt such automatic attraction to someone before. Could your view be skewed after so many years of stories and imagining him? Possibly. But the reality was so much better than your imagination ever could have put together.
When you arrived, Spencer led you both inside the bar, opening the door for you. It was immediately a sensory overload for you both, and you shifted a little closer to him subconsciously to quell your discomfort. His hand found its way to the small of your back, just the smallest touch, and you could have died right then and there. It was electric and somehow so soothing. You felt your breath even out, and your anxiety fall back like a distant memory. You looked up at him and smiled softly, finding he was already looking at you. Your eyes fell to his lips, which were the loveliest shade of pink and parted just a little, his tongue coming out to wet them as if they sensed the attention. You could have just leaned in a few inches… you just needed to get on your tip toes and you’d be right there…
“Pretty Boy! Y/N! We’re over here, little lovebirds!”
“Morgan, leave them alone!”
You snapped out of your reverie when you heard the voices of Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss, the latter hitting the former in the arm yet again today. Spencer didn’t seem to mind, clearly used to the antics of his friends, but you were more or less a little red over it all. You were letting this little crush you had on the genius get a little too obvious, and you definitely needed to pull it back a little before you made a fool of yourself.
The two of you walked to the booth the others sat at, Emily and JJ and Garcia on one side, Rossi and Morgan on the other. Morgan got out and grabbed a loose chair from a table, pulling it up and sitting in it, gesturing to the open two spots for you two to take.
Sliding in next to Rossi, he gave you a look that you pointedly tried to ignore. “You all seem to have drinks already. Couldn’t wait for us?” You teased.
“Not when the lovebirds took so long!” Derek responded, making you roll your eyes. “What can I get for you two, pretty boy and girl?” He added, offering himself up for waiter service.
“Can… can I get a glass of moscato? I’ve always been a sweet wine kinda girl. It’s gentle and actually enjoyable, unlike most alcohol.” You requested, making Emily snort.
“Ohhh, a few weeks working with me and I’ll break you of that mindset. Alcohol is amazing. All of it. We’re going to do so many shots, you’re not going to be a lightweight for long! Derek, she would like a margarita… and for little miss “sweet tooth”, have the bartender add a little grenadine?”
You snickered. “Funnily enough, you just hit the nail on the head! Whenever anyone tries to make me drink drink, that’s almost exactly what I order. I usually just go light on the tequila.”
“DEREK! MAKE IT A DOUBLE!” That made the whole of the group laugh out loud, including yourself. You knew you were in for quite a night.
“What about you, Boy Sweet Tooth?” Derek prodded, poking Reid in the side of the face. He, in turn, swatted at Derek’s hand.
“I’ll take a Shirley Temple, thanks.” He said, ignoring the giggling from around him.
“Y/N, do you also take 5 pounds of sugar in your coffee like Spence over here?” JJ piped up. You caught on to the Spence and filed that away to ask someone about later. You… weren’t a fan of how lovingly she was looking at him, but couldn't decipher if it was sisterly affection or… well, the way you looked at him. You could swear you felt Emily looking at you like she could read your mind, and you decided that when the time came to ask some questions, you’d ask her.
“I actually am not the biggest fan of coffee. I drink a lot of energy drinks though.” You responded, earning a laugh from the team.
“That’s even worse!” Garcia said. “That’s even more sugar than Reid!”
Spencer nodded from your side, the movement making you suddenly very aware of how close the two of you were sitting. “Monster energy contains 28 grams of sugar per 8.4-ounce.” He said. “Which is much more than my cup of coffee, thank you all very much.” He smirked, looking down at you. He also seemed to suddenly realize how close you were sitting, then. He looked down at your thighs pressed together under the table and almost maybe tensed up a little bit? But then he noticed you smiling at him, biting your lip, and he relaxed, just in time for Derek to come back with the drinks.
“One sugary mess for Y/N and one for Pretty Boy.” Gladly accepting your drink, hoping it would calm down your rapidly increasing heart rate, you took a big gulp of it.
“So, Y/N,” Garcia started, “What brings you to the BAU? Did you have posters of Rossi and Gideon as a kid when they started it?”
You forced out a laugh, the sudden vocalization of your father’s name making tears prick your eyes, but Rossi was quick to distract them for you. “Are you kidding? Y/N’s taste is way too good for this old bag of fleas. Besides, she wasn’t born for another 15 years or so, right, Y/N?”
Nodding, his joke had given you enough time to pull yourself together. “Rossi has been a good friend of my family for a long time, and I was always interested in what he did. I looked up to him like he was a superhero, and when the time came to decide on what I wanted to do for a living, I guess I wanted to be the superhero I always grew up around.” You smiled at him, earning a proud grin back.
“How long have you two known each other?” Emily pressed, interested.
“Long enough. He… went to school with my mom, I think? At least, they were friends for a long time before I was born, and he’s just… always been around. Not many kids grow up with THE David Rossi sitting in their living room and telling real ghost stories on babysitting nights.”
Morgan perked up. “How old are you anyways?” He said it in such a way, you almost felt like you were being hit on. You were pretty sure it was just the way he was, because no one even batted an eye at his tone except for Garcia, who smacked him playfully from her seat beside him at the end of the booth, to which he wrapped his arm around her lovingly.
“27. Older than I look, I know. Everyone always thinks I’m a complete baby, but I’m a little more worldly than that. As to your question earlier Garcia, I’ve always wanted to be a profiler. To me, you guys have capes and costumes and fight the bad guys. I… wanted to do that too. And I was always told I have the gut for it- I’m highly empathetic, and I read a lot so I can understand what’s going on in other people’s brains to better get how the thought process of humans works. I worked really hard and never let anyone know that-” you took a breath, Rossi looking at you, “-that I knew Rossi. I wanted to make it of my own merit. I wouldn’t even tell Rossi or Hotch that I was planning on the Academy until I was well on my way to graduating. I didn’t want anyone’s influence in how I did or how far I got. You should have seen the look on my friends faces when they saw his name on the graduation speech list. And the looks they gave me when he pulled me in for a hug upon handing me my diploma? Might have been my favorite part of graduation!” You laughed, enjoying the memory, even if it was tainted with a lot of bittersweet feelings.
The night went by, and it was a lot more fun than you thought it was going to be. Your nerves dissolved with every sip of liquor you consumed, and by your third drink, the whole thing almost didn’t seem surreal anymore. You were actually here, a member of the BAU, out to drinks with Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid. Your father talked about these people, you knew these people better than most first day members…
“Never have I ever!” Emily yelled, making you and Spencer shake your heads. “Awwwww come on, I wanna get to know the new girl on a deeper level! A dirtier level! Pleaaaaase Y/N?” Okay, so yeah, Spencer was definitely your new work crush, but Emily was trying very hard to be a close second. That little pout she was doing was so cute, and the drunk lilt to her voice was adorable.
“I… I don’t know.” You said, your anxiety fighting to take center stage, despite how comfortable the tequila was making you. “S-Sure.” You didn’t want to be the negative nancy of the night that ruined everyone's fun. You didn't notice you had started picking at your nails until you felt a soft touch, Spencer's warm hand ghosting over yours, and as you caught his eye, you knew he was in the same boat you were… especially when Derek's voice broke the moment. It was almost like Spencer was psychic in that moment. His eyes predicted it.
“What about you, Pretty Boy? You never play with us.” He teased, pinching his face, and then looking at you. “Baby Genius doesn’t like to play with us because he’s afraid of us finding out how few things he’s done.”
“I’m not a baby. I’m 35 years old!” Spencer whined, a little like a petulant child. “And I am not afraid. I just think this game is dumb and just a means to find out dirty things about your coworkers personal lives, which is a very weird thing to want to know about if you ask me!” He defended, and you had to agree, though you didn’t do so out loud.
“Never have I ever…” Emily started, and then paused and laughed. “I’m so bad at these, I can never think of things I haven’t done!” She took a sip of her drink and when it seemed like she was never going to come up with something, JJ finally pitched one in.
“Never have I ever been in a threesome.” Emily groaned. “What? It’s not my fault that you’re a horndog! I’m a one man kinda lady.” JJ smirked and shrugged. Emily rolled her eyes and put a finger down, taking another sip of her drink. Derek, Garcia and Rossi all joined her, making you almost gag.
“Guys I already hate this, I did NOT need to know that about Rossi!” You say, taking a huge gulp of your drink, hoping tequila would wash away that moment from your memory forever.
Derek kicked your foot under the table lightly. “Don't worry, Pretty Lady. Just think about me in a threesome and your mind will be put at ease from the pain of thinking about Rossi. It’s a much prettier picture, I promise you that.”
You blushed, because yes, that was a much prettier picture. “Okay, that’s fair, I accept that.” You heard and felt some shuffling next to you, and saw out of the corner of your eye Reid looking uncomfortable. And… sad? No, why would he look sad?
Rossi went next, on your right. “Never have I ever been intimate with a man.”
You rolled your eyes. That was an easy one, of course he’d go with that. To your surprise, everyone at the table besides Rossi put a finger down and took a sip, including you. You almost spit yours out when you saw Reids finger go down, but no one else seemed to notice. Maybe… had you been wrong about his flirting with you? His proximity and his touches… maybe… maybe he was…
“NO WAY. DEREK, REALLY?” Garcia suddenly shrieked. Derek laughed and shrugged. “A man has needs, and when a woman demands something special, well, you make it happen. Besides, I’m not above admitting that there are some attractive men out there. Derek has an open mind.” He smirked and took another sip.
All four women at the table stared at him in awe. “God, that’s hot.” Emily said out loud, voicing the thoughts of everyone looking at Derek.
“Exactly the reason Derek has an open mind, beautiful ladies. I know what women want.” He said, looking like the cat who got the cream.
Now it was your turn, and you… you had to know. “Never have I ever been with a woman intimately.”
Everyone at the table laughed and put a finger down, and you watched as Reid did too. The relieved breath that came out of you after that should have embarrassed you, but it didn’t until he looked at you, concerned that something was wrong. You just smiled and hid how absolutely thrilled you were that he might still like you some kind of way.
Emily looked properly offended. “Oh, we need to change that. I don’t think anyone should miss out on the experience of a beautiful woman.”
“Oooh, Prentiss, are you offering?” Derek joked, laughing. “I’d watch that.” He eyed you both, making clear implications.
You were about to make a comment back, but before you could Spencer beat you to it. “Shut up, Derek.” Everyone froze, looking at Reid in shock. “Just because Garcia is okay with your sexual harassment, doesn’t mean you should be treating a new teammember that way. That’s not the way you should talk to people you barely know. She’s a human being.”
The whole team was unmoving. You turned and looked at them both, and you reached under the table and put your hand on Reids. He was shaking. “I actually… I would be open to being with a woman, I’ve just never had an opportunity. I’m… I’m not against any kind of experience. Try anything twice, in my opinion. Never know if the first time sucked because of the partner or if you actually just don’t like it.”
Everyone moved their shocked looks over at you now, before JJ piped in. “Y/N is full of surprises apparently. A little bi-curious, huh? Emily is going to take turning you from innocent lightweight to experienced day drinker as a personal challenge now.”
The rest of the group tried to shake off Reid’s outburst, but it definitely still hung in the air. You tried to pretend like you didn’t notice his heartbeat speeding up in your hands when you mentioned being interested in women. Men were so typical. Even smart ones, clearly.
“Your turn.” You squeezed his hand before taking it away a moment later. You were still scared of over doing it. You barely knew each other, no matter how you felt like you’d known each other for years… he’d just met you. Yes, he was… weirdly okay with your touch, but you were really trying not to get too excited about that.
“Never have I ever…” He thought, taking a moment to think about it. Derek looked like he wanted to make some kind of comment, but also looked like he was thinking better of it. “Never have I ever been in love.” He said, eyes down on his drink. Everyone drank and put a finger down… except for the two of you. You could feel him looking at your hands, how your fingers hadn’t changed, and you almost wanted to scream but today is making me think that love at first sight is real and not just in Disney movies. But you kept it in, because you’re sure if you said it, you’d end up trying to kiss him and that was not appropriate.
The private moment between the two of you was broken then, Derek moving right along with the game. “Never have I ever had a thing for someone more than 5 years older than me.”
You wished you had something to throw at him. Every one of you put your fingers down, except the two boys at the end of the bar. Rossi snickered as he sipped his drink. “You’re missing out, son. Older women are incredible. Mature. Worldly.”
“And older men?” Prentiss added, to which the girls on either side of her made agreeing noises. “Well, let’s just say there’s a reason there’s such a thing as a daddy kink.”
You chuckled and sipped your drink before adding in, “Or a professor kink.” Everyone made noises of approval at that.
“Y/N is kinky! You had a thing for your professors in college?” Garcia laughed, and it was such an infectious sound, you couldn’t even try to be embarrassed, you just wanted to join her laughter.
“Not really, but I’ve always liked the idea of it.” You blamed the tequila for making your mouth move right now. “But I’ve always loved the idea of an older man in a little nerdy professor outfit who seems so uptight and so innocent keeping me late after class and teaching me a lesson, I guess.”
“Okay, I think we’re even now, kid. You know things about me you never wanted to know… and now I know things about you that I could have gone my whole life not knowing, thank you very much.” Rossi had quite the look on his face, and it made you giggle. You were so distracted by him, you didn’t notice Spencer’s demeanor change.
“Reid? What’s the matter?” JJ asked, concern lacing her voice. You turned and saw what she saw, a dark look having fallen over his usually soft features. You were reaching your hand out to touch his hand when he stood up rather abruptly.
“I’ll be right back.” He wasted no time running to where you could only assume was the bathroom.
“What crawled up his butt?” Garcia asked, laughing and leaning on Derek. “Oooh! It’s my turn! We’ll just catch him up when he gets back. Never have I ever sent anyone a nude!” She said, making everyone at the table groan except for you. After they all took a sip, they looked at you like you’d somehow betrayed them by not being guilty of the same thing.
“Oh come on, really, Garcia and Y/N? It’s the 21st century! You’re telling me you’ve never had someone far away that you’ve wanted to get all hot and bothered?” JJ said, starting to slur just a little. “Come on. With our jobs? I’m a married woman who never gets to see my hot husband… technology of today is an amazing help for that.”
You shrugged. “I’m not against it or anything. I’ve just… never had anyone who I wanted to send something like that to. Besides, I was raised to fear the idea of anyone getting any of my info online, so I’ve always been more on the careful side when it comes to that.” Your mom and dad had always been very- open, to say the least, about the dangers of predators online. So you’d never really gone through that rebellious teen phase, knowing what could actually happen if you did.
Garcia nodded. “Guys, I’m a tech genius, and I am… well, a little famous online because of my hacking skills. I’m not giving anyone access to this gorgeousness unless they are right in front of me.”
“Y/N, you’ve never had anyone you’d send a teasing picture to or something? Just to get them going and play that really hot game of ‘back and forth’ with?” Emily asked, gesturing to her empty drink, pouting at Derek, who relented and got up to get new drinks for everyone.
“No… I’ve been so focused on school and my career, and no one ever stood out like that for me before.” Spencer reappeared like magic, suddenly by your side again, sadly further away than before. You missed his warmth already, but tried to shake the thought out of your mind. You’d literally just met this guy this morning.
“Welcome back Genius boy, we’re talking about nudes! Have you ever sent nudes to a special someone?” Garcia prodded, her alcohol drowning brain not understanding the idea that maybe he wasn’t interested in playing anymore.
“N-No. I haven’t.” He said, playing with his hands on his lap. You wanted to reach out and take his hand, lace your fingers together and let him play with your fingers instead of his own.
“Me neither! Neither has Y/N- we’re all such good kids. The rest of you are all naughty and strangers have absolutely seen your junk!”
Emily smiled at you and looked over at Spencer, tilting her head in curiosity. “Is it your hatred towards technology or are you just shy?”
He shrugged. “Maybe a bit of both. I’ve… never had someone I had a desire to, well, send pictures of myself to. There’s a large level of trust that goes into that. Trust that it’ll remain private, trust that they would l-like what they see…” His eyes fell to his lap and you could have cried for how unsure he looked of himself.
Derek returned with drinks, one for you too even though you hadn’t finished yours yet. “Aww, Pretty Boy, anyone who would be lucky enough to get one of your nudes better consider themselves lucky. I don’t call you pretty boy for nothin’.” He mussed Reid’s hair again, but this time, Spencer didn’t seem to mind. Some of his tension slipped away, and you felt yourself relax too. You gulped down the rest of your drink so you could start in on the new one, the world starting to get a little topsy turvy. How many drinks had they put in front of you so far?
It was Emily’s turn, but she couldn’t for the life of her come up with something she hadn’t done, so she demanded the game end and they moved on to just bothering each other with questions. An hour passed by faster than you realized, and by the time you’d finished the drink Derek had put in front of you, you were more than a little sloppy. You were putting most of your weight on Spencer, your head feeling like it weighed 100 pounds as it drooped onto his shoulder. His mood seemed to improve over the time since he went to the bathroom, and he’d been shifting closer to you as you’d been doing to him. You were thigh to thigh again, and your arms were pressed together from shoulder to wrist. You drunkenly stared at your hands, laying side by side on each of your thighs, trying to use some kind of dormant magic inside of you to pull his hand to yours.
“I think Y/N’s had enough, tonight, guys.” Rossi’s voice filled your ears. You were too busy trying to focus on the scent of Spencer to care to listen. The bar was overwhelming your senses again, and you were trying to ground yourself in Spencer’s familiar warmth and smell. “We should probably get going before someone ends up in someone else’s lap.” He added, making the rest of your (very drunk) team laugh. “Who’s in my car and who else can drive?”
“I drove here but I don’t think I should drive.” You piped up, pulling your keys from your purse and putting them on the table.
“I-I’ll drive Y/N home.” Spencer said quickly, trying to ignore the hooting from the rest of the team at the offer.
“I’m going with them!” Emily and JJ yelled at the same time. Garcia and Derek’s mouths hanging open as they seemed to be about to say the same thing.
The latter two mumbled under their breath, damning Emily and JJ for “stealing the seats to the show” and both agreed to go with Rossi.
Reid helped you out of the booth, arm wrapping securely around your waist to keep you standing up. You tried to pull away, embarrassed that you needed so much help, but he just held you closer. “Don’t worry, Y/N.” His breath ghosted over your ear and made you shiver. “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”
“I already have…” You said quietly, your drunk brain not knowing you’d whispered out loud. You focused on his smell and his touch, the way the warmth from his side and his hands set your skin on fire. Your embarrassment was a thing for future Y/N to worry about, because present Y/N was enthralled with the man helping you to the car.
After saying goodnight to the other three, JJ and Emily poured themselves into the back of your car, Spencer helping you into the passenger seat. He got into the drivers seat and chuckled as he watched you fight with the seat belt. “Let me help you, please.” He said, still laughing lightly, and you pouted, but relented. His hands brushed yours as they took the buckle, and he brushed your hip as he locked you in place. Every time he touched you, you could swear you felt shocks of electricity go through you.
“Speeeeeence, can you help me buckle in too?” You heard JJ call from the back in a sing song voice.
“Me too, Spenceyyyyy! Strap me in! Or down!” Emily added from beside her, making them break down in a fit of giggles. You wanted to pitch in that you would also be up for Spencer tying you down, but as the car lurched forward, your stomach followed suit and suddenly you lost the ability to talk. You were just focusing on not vomiting in your car and ruining all chances of Spencer ever seeing you as attractive ever again.
He was laughing at the ridiculousness of his friends as he started driving, but seemed to take immediate notice of something being wrong with you. “Y/N? Are you okay?” He asked, and the concern in his voice made you feel very guilty for putting it there. He seemed to reach out for you, but had apparently decided against it, putting his hand on the gear shift instead. He had such nice hands.
“Y-Yeah. I’m just a little dizzy, I’m fine, don’t you worry your pretty little head about me.” You smiled at him, watching him driving soothing your aching stomach. You felt like you were in an ocean, the waves crashing around you and making you sea sick. Spencer felt like a buoy for you to clutch onto so you wouldn’t drown. “C-Can I-” You reached for his hand, pulling it to your lap and playing with his fingers nervously, trying to focus on the way they felt rather than focus on the spinning in your head or the flipping of your stomach.
Spencer’s hand relaxed in your grip, allowing you the simple moment that, unfortunately, did not escape the two drunk ladies in the back. “Are you two gonna get married?” Emily asked.
“Awwww I’d finally get to be a godmother! I made everyone godparents and no one’s made me a fairy godmother yet! I wanna go godmother shopping with Pen so bad!” JJ added, bouncing next to her co-conspirator. You blushed and tried to let go of his hand, but he reacted immediately and took your hand back into his so you could keep playing with it. The fact that he was at least okay with whatever you felt about him and how you were acting on it made you feel light as air. He could just be allowing it while you were drunk because he felt sorry for you… but you held onto hope anyway. Even with your knowledge of his love of chess, you didn’t think he seemed like the kind of guy to play games.
“No, I want to be the godmother!” Emily whined.
“I’m Spencer’s best friend!” JJ countered, pushing Emily on the shoulder.
“I’m going to be Y/N’s best friend, just you wait! Y/N, wanna have a sleepover?” Emily asked, tapping you on your shoulder incessantly.
“Sure, Em.” You smiled to yourself. You liked the fact that she wanted to be your friend, but you hoped it was for more than possibly being a godmother to a child that could possibly not even exist.
“Yay!” She exclaimed, sticking her tongue out at JJ. “Oh shush. When they get married I’ll be Y/N’s maid of honor and you can be Spencey’s best man!”
Your heartbeat a little harder at the thought, and you chanced a glance at Spencer to see what he thought of their shenanigans. He seemed amused as he focused on the road, trying to pretend like he wasn’t paying them any mind.
JJ perked up and stopped pouting, ruffling Spencer’s hair from the back seat. “Awwwwww can I be your best man, Spence? I’ll wear a suit and everything! Derek would be soooooo mad! Imagine his face!”
Spencer laughed at that, the image somehow amusing to him. “We’ll see. Maybe let me decide if and when I want to get married first before you start planning my wedding?”
Oh. You deflated at that. He’d seemed so okay with all the teasing, you hoped... He pulled up to a house then, and considering JJ started to gather her things, you assumed this was her house. A man came to the porch and waved. You tried to focus on that, and let go of Reid’s hands in favor of forcing yourself to join the conversation. “Damn! JJ is that your husband?”
She giggled. “Yeah, that’s my Will!”
Emily sighed, leaning her head on the window. “Isn’t it a damn shame? She took the last eligible bachelor in the whole world? AND he’s a southern gentleman! JJ sucks.” You both laughed at her, JJ especially.
“Love you too. Have fun with Y/N while I have fun with my hot southern gentleman husband!” She called out as she got out, closing the door behind her. She ran up to Will and wrapped herself around him. They were a beautiful couple, and seemed so at ease with one another. You hoped you got to know what that felt like one day.
Emily seemed to start to drift off then, and you turned to look at Spencer again, who was staring at you. You blushed, unsure of why his gaze was so intense. “I uh… you know that coffee shop on Trumbull street? I live right over there.” You offered, hoping to go back to how happy and at ease he seemed to be before.
He nodded, clearly knowing where he was going with the directions you gave him. You drove in tense mostly silence for a while, Emily’s snoring the only sound besides the sounds of the road. “D-Did… did I do something wrong?” You asked suddenly, your voice quiet and unsure.
His shoulders fell from their tense position. “No, I just… I think I’m just tired. We had a hard case this week and going out drinking isn’t usually how I decompress.”
“How do you usually decompress?”
“I spend most of my free time at home reading. I read 20,000 words per minute and it soothes me. Morgan wasn’t completely dramatizing my apartment. It’s covered in books. They’re everywhere but the fridge and freezer.”
You laughed at that, starting to sober up a little bit. The world wasn’t quite so upside down anymore. “Me too, except most of my library is back at my moms house. We have a room dedicated to books… we’re a big reading family. Especially my dad.” You offered.
“My love of reading came from my mom. She read to me when I was little.”
“The best way is to have a book read to you! My dad used to read to me, too. I loved listening to him say big words I didn’t understand yet.” You smiled at the memory, closing your eyes and remembering, wishing it didn’t seem so far away and cloudy.
Spencer smiled. “My mom says that too. I can still close my eyes and remember every story she ever read to me.”
“I would kill for your memory.” You admitted sadly. “To be able to remember everything with such detail… it’s a gift I wish I had.”
“A gift.” He paused, looking sad. “A curse too, though. It’s not fun to remember every detail of the bad things.” He said, and you longed to know what those bad things were. Maybe one day you would.
You smiled, one that dripped in bittersweet, looking out the window. “‘The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things… The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.’”
You looked back at him in time to see his surprised expression as he turned and looked at you before he had to look back at the road. “Doctor Who. Matt Smith, Vincent and the Doctor. Series 5, episode 10. Air date June 5th 2010.”
“Impressive!” Truly, you were impressed. Even knowing he remembered everything, you were sure it would never surprise you. “It’s one of my favorite episodes, actually. I have a lot of favorites, but that one never gets old.”
“Who’s your favorite Doctor?” He asked you, and you realized that you were getting close to your apartment. You wished the night didn’t have to end.
“I don’t think I could pick, honestly. They all have their merits, and they all definitely have their flaws… I loved David, just like every other girl in the world, but Matt’s chaotic energy was so fun. And Capaldi was just so… captivating. He’s an amazing actor. His work in Heaven Sent was… indescribable. That’s another one of my favorites. You can take a right up here, and then I’m in the big apartment building on the left.” You watched his arms as he turned the steering wheel, captivated by how strong they seemed underneath the button up and sweater vest.
“Thanks for driving us… you’re welcome to take my car home- it’s late, and I don’t want you to have to find a bus or train at this time.” You said, not making a move to get up. You’d only spent a day with him, and you already never wanted to be away from him.
He pulled up to the building and put the car in park before turning to look at you. “How will you get to work tomorrow?”
You hadn’t thought about that. You bit your lip and blushed all the way to your neck. “I… I can see if Emily can text JJ and have her pick us up?”
“Or I could come and pick you two up?” He offered. You nodded slowly.
“I… don’t want to inconvenience you. It’s not fair to inconvenience your new teammate.”
“It’s not an inconvenience. By letting me take your car, I don’t have to take the bus tomorrow… That’s actually pretty nice. And I’ll get to see you again… you know, so we can talk more Doctor Who.” He looked like he was blushing, but you couldn’t be sure in the dark of the car.
“O-Okay… It would be nice to see you tomorrow. Though I will probably be very embarrassed about tonight. I don’t usually do things like this. Get drunk and act like a fool.” You gestured at nothing, pointing between the two of you, indicating you were talking about how all over him you were all day.
“You have no reason to be embarrassed. The rest of the team was much more ridiculous than you were. Everyone acts different when under the influence of alcohol; Morgan gets even more forward and flirty, Garcia gets abrasive and asks invasive questions, Emily gets loud, JJ gets a little whiny and is what I’ve heard referred to as a ‘woo girl’? Rossi… Rossi doesn’t really act very different from himself sober, but I can guess that that comes with age. You… well, you were… a pretty adorable drunk, actually.” He said, almost too quiet. You almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t.
Emily stirred behind you before you could respond. “Mmm, arewethereyet?” She yawned, making stretching sounds.
“Yeah, we are, Em. We just got here.” You sighed. “Thank you, Reid. For driving us home, for standing up for me earlier… you’ve been very kind and patient with my drunkenness tonight and I appreciate it. I hope I can make up for today and show you that I’m an okay person when Emily isn’t forcing tequila down my throat.”
“I already think you’re pretty cool, so there’s nothing to make up for. I’ll-” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he looked back at Emily and then at you. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow bright and early. I’ll call you when I get here, okay Em?”
“Mm’Kay Spencer.” She replied sleepily, opening her door, making you feel the need to open yours too. The night was over much too fast in your opinion.
“Thanks again, Reid, have a good night.” You were about to shut the door when you heard his voice again, causing you to turn around.
“Y/N?” He leaned forward, his head tilted and hair falling to the side, messy and so attractive- you wanted to reach forward and run your fingers through it and know if it felt as soft as it looked.
“Yeah?” You bent down a little to meet his gaze.
His eyes were large and brown, the lights from the street lamps making them sparkle. “Please call me Spencer. All my friends call me Spencer.”
You could have danced, that had made you so happy. “O-Okay. Goodnight, Spencer. Thank you for everything.”
He smiled at you then, the biggest one you’d had the pleasure to see on his face so far in the 12 hours you’d known him. You hoped to see a million more of those in the future. “Goodnight, Y/N. Good luck with that drunk mess over there. See you tomorrow.” You and Emily headed up to your apartment building, and when you turned around from inside, he was still there, looking at you with a smile on his face.
Next Chapter
taglist:
@rexorangecouny​ @asomers603​
107 notes · View notes
Text
Guest Speaker
Tumblr media
Anon requested: Hi! I saw that your requests are open, so this is oddly specific but, could I get a Reid x reader where she’s a cheerleader kinda prom queen stereotype but she’s like really smart and majoring in criminology (maybe that’s how they meet?) and he’s sorta insecure about dating her, maybe it could be a bit smutty? If not it’s totally cool, thank you sooo much. 
Author’s note: First off, I would like to apologize to you anon. I took a rather long hiatus without really planning to due to some personal stuff, so I’m really sorry for that. I hope you still follow me, I hope you see this, and I hope above all else that you like it. Also, I should mention I didn’t add any smut because I didn’t feel like it fit the story. But, if you would like, I could do a smutty part 2! Just let me know. 
Part 2
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reader’s POV:
Could this class be any more boring? Sure, criminology is my favorite subject. But this professor looked like he had one foot in the grave, with the voice to match. Talk about naptime. 
I put my pen down in exasperation and decided that picking at my nail polish was a better way to spend my time. 
“Psst,” a voice hissed next to me. 
I popped my gum as I looked up at the source of the voice. It was Naomi, my best friend. 
“Girl, I didn’t even notice you next to me!”
“I know,” she whispered, trying not to laugh. “You were too enamored with your polish flaking off. Sometimes I wonder how you’re top of the class.” 
I stifled a laugh. 
“I wonder the same thing sometimes, Naomi. Hey, I think I might dip a little early. What do you think about coming with me?” 
No answer. I waited to see if she would respond, but she never did. Glancing up, I saw her staring towards the podium. There was no way she was looking at Dr. Daniels. I followed her gaze and about swallowed my gum in surprise. 
Dr. Daniels was up there, but next to him was someone I had never seen before. Quite unfortunate, if I do say so myself, because he had to be the most beautiful man I had ever seen. 
I whispered to Naomi out of the corner of my mouth, not breaking my gaze towards the man, “Who… is that?” 
“I think Daniels said he works at the FBI. A guest speaker, I guess. Dr. Spencer Reid.” 
She hadn’t stopped staring either.  
I rested my head in my hands and sighed. 
“He doesn’t look much older than us, Nay.”
She tilted her head and blinked slowly, “May the best woman win.” 
——————————–
“Alright, so that brings me to the end of my presentation. I have to get back to Quantico soon, but uh- I’ll stick around for some questions if anyone has any.”
Dr. Spencer Reid had to be the most beautiful, awkward, brilliant man I had ever seen. 
I glanced around the room as I packed my things. Not many people went up to ask questions. A few did, but only briefly. Their loss. 
Naomi nudged me with her elbow. “Gonna ask him a question?” 
I took a deep breath, “I don’t think any of my questions have anything to do with criminology.” 
Naomi laughed and shouldered her bag. “I’ve gotta get to my next class.”
She began walking down the steps to leave the room, but turned to me at the last second. 
She began pointing at him while his back was turned and mouthed the words, “Get his number for me.” 
As luck would have it, he turned around and noticed Naomi gesturing towards him. He looked at her and then up to me. A nervous smile graced his lips as he turned back around to pack his things. 
I widened my eyes at Naomi and she raised her hands in defeat with a huge grin on her face. 
Once she left, only Dr. Reid and I remained. I started my walk up to the podium, trying to come up with any questions that actually related to his presentation. As I slowed down near him, I prayed he couldn’t hear my heart ripping a hole in my chest. 
“Um, Dr. Reid.”
He lifted his head and looked towards me, pausing mid-action. His hands were large compared to the papers he was putting in his bag.
“What can I do for you?”
I shifted my weight around, trying to get comfortable. It didn’t work.
“I was just wondering- um, does the FBI take interns? It’s been a dream of mine to work for the FBI.” 
He turned all the way towards me and narrowed his eyes slightly. Was he judging me or something? 
“Yeah, actually we do. There’s tons of programs you can check out. What’s your major?” 
“Criminology,” I said softly. 
“Oh wow, really? I would’ve thought maybe it would have been… something else.” 
He glanced at my bag where my pom poms were sticking out. 
“Ah, yeah because I’m a cheerleader?”
“Uh, no no, that’s not what I meant- I just-”
I shook my head with a small smile. “No, don’t worry about it. I get it a lot. Cheerleading is just a hobby. I’m actually top of the class.”
Dr. Reid raised his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s very impressive! I was top of my class in- well, every class,” he said, laughing quietly.
“I don’t doubt it, but you don’t look much older than us. Are you that much of a genius you skipped so many grades?” 
He grabbed his bag and shrugged it on. “I do have an IQ of 187. I’m not sure if that’s what you were looking for.”
He smiled shyly at me. I was confident there was nothing this man couldn’t do.
“Wow. Well, that’s really impressive, too.” 
I paused for a second, hoping he didn’t notice my burning red ears. 
“Well, um, Dr. Reid, I don’t wanna hold you up. I’m sure you have way more important things to be doing than talking to me.” 
He looked down at his feet and shifted his bag.
“Talking to you was important. Here,” he dug in his bag as he spoke, “Take my card. I’ll um- check up on those intern programs for you. Call me- I mean call my office in a few days. I’ll have something for you.”
He handed me his card abruptly. I took it with slightly shaking fingers. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice that either. 
“I have to go, but it was nice talking to you. Hope to see you in Quantico some day,” he said as he smiled. 
I stood stone still in my spot, still holding his card as if he had just handed it to me. I only broke out of my trance when he cleared his throat at the door as he was leaving.
“You shouldn’t pick your nail polish off. That color looks good on you.” 
And then he was gone.
—————————————-
As I walked out of class, I couldn’t seem to make my heart stop fluttering. Dr. Reid wouldn’t flirt with me- right? No way. He was just complimenting me.
Naomi could tell something was up when I got to cheerleading practice. I didn’t want to tell her though; she’d never let me hear the end of it.
“You’re late! What’s up, (Y/N)? Did something happen?”
I shook my head. “Nothing happened, just took the scenic route!”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Spill. What happened?”
I sighed. I should’ve known she’d start in on me immediately. Guess I’ll save myself the trouble and just tell her now.
“I talked to Dr. Reid and he gave me his card. And…he said I shouldn’t pick at my nail polish because the color looks good on me.”
Naomi’s jaw dropped. “Show me. Card. Now.”
I dug in my pocket and handed her the card. She snatched it from my fingers that still felt tingly.
“Oh my God! What did you say to him to make him give you that?”
I grabbed the card back from her. “I said I was interested in an FBI internship.”
She scoffed. “Well, I don’t know about an internship but you gotta get laid. Call him. And use protection,” she finished, winking at me.
I rolled my eyes and followed Naomi to the sideline before coach started yelling at us.
————————————–
A few days had passed since I talked to Dr. Reid. I didn’t know what to do. Should I really call him or just forget that interaction ever happened?
I tried pushing the thought of him from my mind to focus on tonight. It was Friday night, which meant football. Not just football, but the rival team was playing us tonight. It was a huge game and tons of people are coming. I had to make sure I didn’t fuck anything up.
My makeup was done and my uniform was on, so I made my way to the field.
I was early of course, but there were already herds of people trying to get in. Young and old, students and non-students. Everyone was here. I felt the familiar rush of excitement I get before performing. There was nothing else like it in the world.
Tonight was gonna be a night to remember.
———————————–
Narrator’s POV:
“Tell me why we’re here again?” Derek asked in confusion.
Spencer scratched his head. He was no good at these kinds of things.
“Well, I was really young in college. I- I never got the full college experience as an adult.” He tried not to cringe at his own words.
Derek glaced at Garcia. She shrugged and turned to JJ.
“I’m gonna go grab a hot dog. Wanna come with?”
JJ nodded. “Of course! Want anything boys?”
Spencer shook his head and Derek asked for a drink. The two women walked off.
“Well let’s go find seats then, Pretty Boy.”
Derek took Spencer through the crowd; it wasn’t hard to see he had no clue what was going on.
They found an empty corner in the bottom row of the bleachers. Spencer hesitated as Derek sat down.
“You gonna stand there all night, kid?”
He glanced around before his eyes settled on Derek.
“Do you know how many germs there are on these things?”
Derek rolled his eyes. “You wanted the full college experience. Here it is.”
Spencer groaned internally before sitting down.
“So tell me,” the bigger man said as he leaned forward, “Which one are you here for?” Derek gestured to the cheerleaders lining up on the field.
Spencer shifted in his seat and cut a sideways glance at Derek. “What makes you think I wanted to watch the cheerleaders?”
Derek laughed. “Kid, I might not be a genius like you, but I am a profiler. And I can tell when someone is crushing. You’ve been looking around here for something. My guess is, you saw a pretty girl at your guest lecture the other day and wanna see more of her.”
Spencer began to protest but sank back down in defeat. He looked around at the girls, trying to find the one he came for. After what seemed like forever, he found her.
“That one,” he pointed out, “in the very front with the (your hair color) hair.”
Derek looked at you as you began calling out to the other girls, leading them in a cheer.
“My man,” Derek said as he clapped Spencer on the back with a smile. “You better get to talking to her soon, or I may have to work my magic.”
Spencer sighed, “Go ahead. It’s not like she would like me anyway.”
“What makes you say that, kid?” 
“Well, it’s just- I’ve never had much luck with those types of girls. Remember a few years ago with JJ?” Spencer said quietly while looking at his hands.
“That was back then, man. Look at you now! I bet she’d be into you.”
Spencer tried not to smile. “You think so?”
“I know so,” Derek said, patting Spencer’s back once again.
Spencer smiled to himself. He felt a little better about everything. 
“What’s her name?” 
Spencer looked at Derek and paused. “I- I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
JJ and Garcia appeared then, hands full of snacks and drinks. 
Derek leaned back as the girls sat down behind them.
“He’s here for a girl,” 
JJ groaned and set her food down. Garcia smirked and held out her hand expectantly. After a second of digging in her pocket, JJ pulled out some money and slapped it into Garcia’s hand.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said as she put the money into her bag.
“Y- you guys took a bet?” Spencer asked in shock.
“All’s fair in love and war, dear doctor.”
“Garcia that doesn’t even- never mind,” Spencer said, shaking his head. He turned his head back to the field. 
You were at the top of the formation now, standing on one foot while holding your other leg in the air with one hand, being held up by all the girls underneath you. It took Spencer’s breath away. You were so beautiful. 
“OOH, she’s flexible!” Garcia grunted out past mouthfuls of hotdog. 
Spencer ignored the comment and continued watching. He didn’t expect you to watch him, though.
You had found him in the crowd and made eye contact for a second. He raised his hand to begin waving, but stopped when he saw the color leave your face. 
“Hey, woah- is she okay? She’s wobbling a little,” Derek said, shifting forward like he was going to stand up. 
“She looks like she’s gonna-” JJ started. She didn’t get to finish. The group watched in horror as you went limp and fell from the top of the formation. 
—————————————-
Reader’s POV: 
I loved being up here. There was no other feeling like it, especially when I got to call out the cheers tonight. 
We were nearing the end of this cheer, so I held out this position as long as I could, smiling at everyone in the crowd, making eye contact with as many as possible. I wasn’t expecting to make eye contact with Dr. Reid.
What was he doing here?! 
I felt my leg begin to wobble, but still held my position. My heart was pounding and I suddenly felt very cold. 
“Hey,” one of the girls below me hissed, “You okay?” 
“I-” I managed to whisper, “I don’t feel so good…”
I don’t remember falling, so I was a little shocked when I came to, laying on my back. The rest of the squad circled around me, panicked looks on their faces. 
“Hey, it’s okay. Stay down there. The AT is coming over to talk to you,” Naomi said, patting my shoulder. 
I groaned and tried sitting up, but she pushed me back down. “That’s not a good idea. You just passed out.”
My eyes fluttered shut as I tried to remember what happened.
“Ugh, how embarrassing. I’ve never fallen before.” 
Naomi smiled sadly at me. “It happens to the best of us. But what happened? Why did you lose it?” 
I rubbed my head and sat up slowly, much to the annoyance of Naomi and the AT. 
“I just felt- sick all of a sudden. I don’t know,” I lied quietly. 
The AT handed me a bottle of water. “Just nerves, baby. It’s a big game.” 
I nodded as she helped me up. “Yeah. Just nerves.” 
Naomi went back to the squad and told them I was okay. The AT sat me down on the sideline, leaning me against the fence. “Take a breather, hun. You’ll feel better by halftime.”
I gave her a smile as thanks, and took a sip of water.
A voice behind me called out, “Hey, are you okay?”
Dr. Reid stood on the other side of the fence with a bigger African-American man and two blonde girls, one wearing glasses and one without glasses.
“Oh, yeah I’m fine! It’s just a big game. A lot of nerves, you know?” 
I stood up and faced them. “Are these your coworkers?” 
“Oh uh, yeah, this is Derek, JJ, and Penelope,” Spencer said, gesturing to each of the people next to him in turn. 
I gave them a small smile and a wave. 
“So what are you doing here? FBI that boring that you have to come see a random college football game? Maybe I don’t want an internship,” I laughed out to them. 
Derek laughed with me. “Nah, Pretty Boy didn’t come for the game-”
Dr. Reid punched him in the arm.
The two women, JJ and Penelope, laughed as Derek raised his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright!”
I smiled and shook my head, looking back out to the field. 
“Hey, I never asked you the other day. What’s your name?” 
I turned my attention back to Dr. Reid. The other three were no longer in sight. 
“(Y/N). My name is (Y/N).”
“Well, nice to officially meet you, (Y/N).” 
“So what are you really doing here, Dr. Reid? It doesn’t take a genius to see that you have no interest in football.” 
I hopped the fence and stood next to him. 
“Hey, be careful. You did just have a pretty big fall.”
I grinned, a burst of confidence erupting in my chest. 
“Of course, Doctor.”
He leaned against the fence next to me and looked down to meet my gaze. “Call me Spencer.” 
My heart fluttered a bit. He was totally into me. 
“Okay. Spencer, then.” 
He smiled back at me. “Would you maybe want to get a coffee with me sometime?”
I turned towards him, hoping he didn’t see just how much I was blushing. 
“I thought you’d never ask.” 
2K notes · View notes