qlossytbh - Tumblr blog

[qlossytbh]

𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞? - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 where you find yourself with immense baby fever

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 baby fever, fem!reader, fluff fluff fluff, established relationship, reader and spencer are married, hotch x platonic!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.5k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 so i imagined older spence but younger jack so pretend jack is around 3 or 4 but spence is like around season 7/8 (?)

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“All I’m saying, you could’ve been a little nicer,” You turned to Morgan with a rigid sigh. If he didn’t know you better, it’d probably sound like you were deeply annoyed with him, on the verge of cursing him out. He knew you were only regarding the events of today's case.

“I think you’re mixing ‘being nicer’ with tough love,” You deadpanned at your friend, earning nothing but his signature snicker.

You shook your head, feigning that of disappointment. You rolled your shoulder back, craning your neck slightly to scan the files that rested between your fingers. God, how many files could one see in a day?

It was a few hours past midday when the case came to an end. Hotch had a sudden dilemma that he needed immediate solving, so he told all of you to make it back to headquarters. You and Morgan however, had been stuck together for the day and made it back a lot earlier than the rest of the team, prompting the two of you to get some necessary paperwork done.

You needed a day off— especially from Morgan.

The bullpens doors opened unexpectedly, drawing you and Derek out of your conversation. You turned, seeing the rest of the team waltz through the glass door— only this time, they were accompanied by a pair of small legs.

You couldn’t stop a reflexive smile from growing onto your face. “Is that who I think it is?”

Jack waddled into the bullpen, one of his tiny fists bundled up onto a small section of Hotch’s dress pants. You could’ve screamed, a reaction that was becoming more necessary every time you saw a kid, and most definitely when you saw Jack.

At the sound of your cheery voice, Jack looked up, biting onto his knuckles— something you learned was a sign of his bashfulness.

But when he realized it was you who was standing next to Morgan, his face immediately morphed into one that could only portray pure and innocent child joy, looking as if he couldn’t be happier to see you. Nothing could compare to how ecstatic that made you feel, chest getting fuzzy with endearment. Hotch placed his palm onto the back of his head. “Look who it is!”

You've taken care of Jack too many times you lost count, given since you and Hotch were close— practically family. You adored Jack and found yourself being struck with some newfound motherly instinct when it came to him— or any kid for that matter. He always gave you this very violent need to squeeze his cheeks and hug him so tight he might pop.

“Is that little Jackie?” Your voice was high and welcoming, trying to hide how utterly joyed you were with seeing him and failing miserably. Jack immediately pushed himself off of Hotch’s leg and began running towards you.

Well, he more so waddled his way over to you, small feet pattering roughly against the floor as he ran over to you in an unstable line. You met him halfway, crouching down and opening your arms for him. When he was close enough, he launched himself into said arms, voice loud with giggles and shrieks. “If it isn’t my favorite boy!”

You squeezed him tightly, rising once again to your natural height and hugging the small toddler. Morgan, of course, didn’t miss a beat to taunt. “Careful, Reid’s listening.”

“Oh please,” You rested Jack on your hip, keeping strong secure arms around him while he gripped the ends of your hair curiously. “Spencer knows that Jack comes first no matter what, isn’t that right Jack?”

“Yeah!” He laughed.

Spencer couldn’t keep in a single thought as he watched you interact with Jack so naturally. It twisted his chest in weird, scary ways. If it were anyone else he’d be terrified. But it was you. And he now found his head lingering with the idea of you as a mother— the mother of his children, specifically.

It was a conversation the two of you had once, very briefly a few months after you two got married. Spencer had been meaning to get back at it, but with the chaos of your jobs it had been really hard to think about anything other than serial killer and criminals.

But fuck, if Spencer said that seeing you interact so carefully and sweetly with not only Jack but many other children that had stumbled up on these last few cases— he’d be the biggest liar on the face of this earth.

Just the thought of starting a family with you was something that filled him with anticipation. It made his chest burn. Something he craved so deeply, it sometimes left him breathless.

“You’re getting so big and strong that I’m beginning to have a hard time lifting you up.” You huffed, setting him down onto the ground and crouching beside him. “You’re gonna give me back problems.”

“Derek says it’s because you’re getting weak!” His R’s were disguised as muffles W’s, which only caused your heart to clench further. A choke disguised as a strained laugh left your mouth.

“Is that so?” You turned over to him with a glare. Morgan scratched the back of his head and turned on his heel avoiding you and your piercing gaze.

“But who’s your favorite; big old chiseled Derek, or little weak me?” You squint your eyes at the boy, pursing your lips feeling very confident in his answer.

And to no one’s surprise did Jack point towards you and with a huge, wide smile laughed out. “You!”

You laughed victoriously, holding out a palm for Jack to clap. “Yeah, that’s right!”

“Oh, come on,” Morgan groaned.

After one last hug from the child, you ushered Jack over to Hotch, shooting an endeared smile towards him. God, you loved that kid so much.

JJ, Prentiss and Rossi made their way to the conference room. You look ahead, meeting the gaze of your husband and smiling profusely. It was a subconscious reaction your body had. You found yourself meeting Spencer halfway. “Hey,”

His hand rested on your hip as he leaned down, kissing you chastly. Spencer would’ve loved to actually take his time greeting you with a much proper kiss, but it was a middle ground the two of you found between professionalism and well— being married.

His hand, however, remained on the spot on your hip, thumb drawing circles instinctively. It was subtle, but his touch was still there. Your smile was big and lovestruck, looking up at him with soft eyes. “Hey,”

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Jack's laughter ripped through the air as Hotch lifted him up. You and Spencer turned and you swear you could almost cry.

It was as if lately, when you allowed yourself to think even slightly about the concept of children you’d combust into a pool of tears and overbearing endearment. Spencer watched you looking over at Jack and noticed something pooling beneath your eyes.

You looked back at Spencer, lips tied in a pout. “I want one.”

“A baby?” He tuned, laughing slightly at how your body sunk against his, resting your forehead on his chest in exasperation.

“Yes,” You pushed yourself off his chest, throwing your hands around as you spoke. “The small hands, small feet— I swear everytime I see a baby, I get violent.”

You pouted. “Imagine a mini us Spence,”

And Spencer did. He thought about it in such detail that he forgot it wasn’t an actual reality of his. A little girl or boy, that resembled either of you, that held so many fractions and traits of the two of you— it seemed unreal to him.

“A mini us?” He repeated. You looked up at him.

“Well— yeah,” You reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean, we haven’t really talked about it but..”

Spencer wanted kids more than he had ever wanted anything before— but he knew that he only wanted it if it was with you. He couldn’t phantom the thought of starting a family with anyone else.

“We should,” He spoke. Your fingers played mindlessly with the bottom of his tie, looking up at him with a teasing smirk.

“We should talk about it or we should try?” A blush crept up his cheeks as his eyes widened just slightly. You always found ways to catch him off guard and you loved getting even the slightest reaction out of him.

“Uh—“ He dragged out his words, before his eyes landed back on you. “Both?”

You laughed and he smiled. He always smiled when you laughed, he couldn’t stop himself from doing so. You reached down, tangling your fingers with his. “I’m serious though,”

He hummed. “So am I.”

“You actually want to start trying for a baby?” This seemed like a conversation that was far too intimate to be having in the middle of the bullpen— where you usually discussed varieties of atrocious things, but here you were I guess.

“Yeah,” He said, almost in disbelief that you had questioned it. You found yourself growing oddly shy, just thinking of a small version of the two of you running around.

Before you could continue on the subject, Morgan, who now held Jack on his shoulders, was calling you and Spencer over to the conference room. You turned to Spencer, smiling softly.

“Can we get back to this once we get home?”

“Please,” He breathed, leaning forward and pressing a longer kiss onto your lips. You grew giddy and smiled into the kiss, pulling away sooner than both of you would like.

“I love you,” You smiled. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and placed a loving kiss on your forehead.

“I love you.”

[qlossytbh]

THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING WHAT

bubble pop electric ｡𖦹° spencer reid

18+ backseat sex duhhhh, afab!reader but no terms like ‘girl,’ just female anatomy, spencer’s fingers make an appearance again wowww, reader is in his lap, 1 direct hozier quote sue me, i’m still working on my writing style which isn’t important i just wanted to note that. you can listen to bubble pop electric by gwen stefani if you wanna feel the vibes, a bit unfinished i guess but i didn’t know where else to take it

tonight i’m gonna give you all my love in the backseat

the shuffling of clothes is almost the loudest thing in the car, only beat out by you and spencer’s heavy breathing and pounding hearts.

your whines and moans slip straight into his mouth— the two of you seem to have forgotten what it even means to separate from the other. you give him perfect notes like he’s playing you from the inside out. your kisses are all sloppy, unfocused and focused at the same time, spit-swapping between the two of you, his groans vibrating in his chest and into your mouth.

he curls his fingers up to kiss that spot inside you so deliberately your mind blanks, and you’re conflicted on what to focus on. his lips, or his fingers, or his sounds, or all of it at once.

yeah, all of it at once sounds great.

“you’re so pretty,” he confesses after one kiss and before another. he pauses for a second, to look. you’re so beautiful above him. the white light of the street lamps shines in through the car windows and illuminates your skin. you glow obscenely beautifully, so beautiful his brown eyes get glossy in awe.

he kisses you again, and you kiss him back like you’re begging for it. you’re always begging for it, always wanting to be wrapped up in his lips and sliding your tongue against his all messy.

you think you know insanity, that you’re as fucked as you can be right now, but that’s until through one loud pass and another you pick up the sound of the slipping and sliding of his fingers. your cunt sings out into the car and he breaks the kiss to shoot his eyes down between your legs, watching wide-eyed the lewd display you two have created.

how lewd it is.

he breathes raggedly, all keyed up. he can feel his blood boiling hot with how turned on he is.

it doesn’t take long for him to slip his fingers out of you and for the both of you to fumble with your buttons and clothes and zippers.

spencer’s nothing if not disgusting— he can’t help but rub his cock through your wetness, pupils dilating even bigger as he watches you cover him in sticky slick. its heavenly and horribly filthy all at the same time, how he taps it against your clit, softly, huffing out a laugh when you jump a little above him. the whine that leaks out of your throat is met with a hum of his own, a little sound of admiration.

spencer laughs when he sinks in. your whine is so melodic he finally tears his eyes from your cunt to your face, and god, he’s so fucking glad he did. your eyebrows are turned down, nose scrunched and lips pressed together. your eyes, hazy as they lock with his.

looking up at you is how he wants to fuck you always (at least, until he fucks you another way, it always changes). his hands find your waist and they dig in a little, slowly guiding you on his cock.

fuck.

a groan from spencer’s slack lips is what breaks the hanging silence in the car. the hypnosis that grips you both is shattered and his honest sound makes the heart between your legs pound and jump and you bring hips down on him just a little harder.

“oh my god,” he moans into your chest, his cheek rubbing against your shirt. “shit.” he’s rarely ever reduced to expletives to express himself, but when his hands are digging into your waist and you’re grinding on his lap like sin, he can’t find anything else to say.

you run your hands through the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him, desperately, closer. lines have faded and been crossed and fucking in the backseat of a car shouldn’t feel this soft, but it does. your soft whines and moans and his earnest groans smooth out the rough edges of the circumstance, and leave sweetness in their wake. but its still lewd. it’s still sensual. he’s still fucking up into you, the sound of you two rubbing against each other still swirls in the car, he’s still cursing against your chest.

exhilaration flows through you. you and spencer never take anything too serious, especially with each other, and to be pulled over in his backseat, fogging up the windows and probably making the car shake, is what you and spencer do. it’s on-brand; of course you’d get so turned on you’d have no choice but to take it to the backseat.

it’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened, though. and it’ll happen again.

[qlossytbh]

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ૢ་༘࿐

♡ favs | ✎ request | 𝄞 song |

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

: ̗̀➛ in order to protect you

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

: ̗̀➛ scratch therapy

: ̗̀➛ the things none of us say

: ̗̀➛ it’s just competition (p1) ✎

: ̗̀➛ new haircut ♡

: ̗̀➛ the double tuck ♡ ✎

: ̗̀➛ moving in ✎

: ̗̀➛ especially if (bombshell!reader)

: ̗̀➛ can we have one?

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

: ̗̀➛ stupid vest (+18) ✎

: ̗̀➛ it’s just competition (p2) (+18)

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

: ̗̀➛

[qlossytbh]

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ૢ་༘࿐

♡ favs | ✎ request | 𝄞 song |

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

: ̗̀➛

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

: ̗̀➛ occasionally

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

: ̗̀➛

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

: ̗̀➛

[qlossytbh]

𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ૢ་༘࿐

♡ favs | ✎ request | 𝄞 song |

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

: ̗̀➛ the other girl ✎

: ̗̀➛ you belong with me ✎𝄞

: ̗̀➛ by your side ✎

: ̗̀➛ birthday blues

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

: ̗̀➛ starry night 𝄞♡

: ̗̀➛ cold morning ♡

: ̗̀➛ baking

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

: ̗̀➛

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

: ̗̀➛ twin sister au! headcanons ✎

[qlossytbh]

this is a man you go to war for i’m fucking serious. you keep this picture in your helmet in the trenches.

[qlossytbh]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ...

criminal minds

✮ꜜ : guilt's a motherfucker , spencer reid. sequel: now i see daylight

✮ꜜ : long time coming , aaron hotchner.

✮ꜜ: you're still a traitor , spencer reid. sequel: wait for your love (coming soon)

✮ꜜ: nobody ever loved me like you do, spencer reid.

✮ꜜ: goodbye love, you flew right by, spencer reid. sequel: paper hearts (coming soon)

[qlossytbh]

nobody ever loved me like you do, spencer reid

just a little prompt i couldn't get out of my head. this is majority fluff, it got kind of heavy towards the end, but no smut because i'm a coward, reader is a university student, there's an age gap between reader + spencer, unspecified, but reader is over 22. based off of 'pov' by ariana grande.

this absolutely got long as shit, i don't know how to be normal. (5.6k wrds)

"what's on your mind?" you hadn't realized you'd gone quiet until you feel the dip of the couch. it takes a moment to snap out of the little moment you've dug yourself into, but when you do you're pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the couch next to you. he grabs hold of the book you'd haphazardly discarded, and flips it over. you imagine internally he's tsking at you, he was always reminding you to be careful of the spine of the books you read, but you're happy he doesn't make a move to scold you about it now. instead, he closes it, and places it in his lap, letting his eyes trace all over your pretty face.

"is everything okay?" he prods, and in truth, you were fine. you didn't really know why you'd gotten so lost in your head, it just happened sometimes. domesticity was still fairly new, and despite the fact that your relationship with spencer had gotten to the point where you both were comfortable staying at each other's places for long periods of time, you still kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. spencer was the first guy you'd been with that was older, already established, had a 'big boy job' as you so eloquently labeled it. he had security.

not that you were some lazy, unprepared individual letting your life slip by, but you were still figuring things out. you were in university, and you had big dreams and hopes for your future, it just felt like it was taking forever to get there. to your future. everyone was always telling you not to wish away your youth, but by law you were no longer a child, you hadn't been for a while. your twenties were meant to be for 'figuring things out', finding yourself all over again, or that's what you were always hearing. over time it felt easier said than done.

the point was when you were still uncertain about what you wanted to spend the rest of your life doing, it was hard to feel grown up. especially when you had a boyfriend like spencer who was always doing something to raise the bar for humanity. he was a genius, he worked for one of the most prestigious units in the fbi, he was in the fbi... that in itself was an accomplishment. he had phds, bachelor degrees, and an extensive knowledge of literature in numerous languages and texts. to top it all off, he really was a great boyfriend.

you supposed it was just you feeling a bit insecure. you didn't believe that he expected too much of you, but that didn't stop you from putting unnecessary pressure on yourself. "everything's fine." you promise, and you tack on a warm smile to really sell it. the action triggers an involuntary smile from spencer, and you feel a bit faint, just because he's so pretty. "i was just watching you read." you admit, and it was true, you had gotten a bit lost in how quickly spencer was speeding through his own book. it didn't trigger insecurity, it just left you in awe at how absurdly lucky you were to have bagged spencer.

"yeah?" and he's got this edge to his voice that he usually gets when he's tired, sleepy, content. it was comforting, knowing that he was comfortable being here, like this with you. "are you sure that you're alright?" and he's leaning forward, hand cupping your cheek as he rubs his thumb over your jaw, and you lean into him. "you know you can talk to me about anything." he adds, and he's perceptive. you're certain that part of this has to do with his job, and the other part has a lot to do with the fact that he knows you so well.

"i know." you answer instantly, and you bring your hand up to hold over top his. "trust me, i know. that's why i like you so much." you beam brightly, and you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips. it's a peck, and it sounds like one with the way that your lips smack together. you note his disappointment when you pull away just as he moved to kiss you a bit more fiercely. you find yourself giggling a bit as he pouts at you, and you lean in to offer him another kiss.

"like?" he asks, and you know he's fishing, but for what you're not sure. his eyes never look as bright as they do when he's sitting across from you. it offers you a bit of an ego boost to know that someone as handsome as your spencer consistently looks so enamored and enraptured with you. "i thought that we were a little past like..." he says, and your nose scrunches up at his big doe-eyed stare. "am i wrong about that?" and he holds his breath.

"no, you're right." you promise, and he relaxes. "we're past that." spencer looks relieved, and you wonder sometimes what's going on in his mind. he doesn't say anything for a while, he just looks at you, his thumb continues to draw soothing circles on your face, and you think you might be convinced to fall asleep if he keeps it up. "i'm sorry." you offer, and spencer's immediately shaking his head at you.

"don't apologize." he presses, and he's peeling his hand away from your face. now it's your turn to be disappointed. "and if you don't feel like we're past the 'i like yous'... that's okay too." and he looks sad now. it's your least favorite expression on him, and you wonder if you've done something wrong. "i don't want you to feel like you're rushing yourself, okay? or like you're forcing yourself to feel anything that you don't." he says, and your eyebrows furrow inward, face contorting.

"i don't feel that way." you deny sternly. spencer's head tips to the side, curls following along, and the urge to run your hands through his hair almost chokes you out. "spencer, i don't feel that way." you reiterate, and you hate that his expression doesn't change. you hate that he looks like he doesn't believe you. "i have too many feelings for you." you admit, and you shake your head. "all of the feelings." you insist, and the problem is that you haven't managed to fully verbalize what that means. spencer's told you that he loves you, often.

you haven't managed to say it back, but not because you don't believe it. it's more so out of worry that once you tell him, things will get too real. you'll grow too comfortable, and by-proximity expose parts of yourself that spencer might not be ready for. things that'll make him run for the hills, and take his sweet i love yous with him. "that's a lot of feelings." spencer replies, and he sighs deep, chest moving with the action. you smile, mostly to ward off the tension.

he doesn't return it, and you suddenly feel anxious. "do you want-" he trails off, and he looks conflicted. "if you wanted to break up..." and your heart sinks. "you would tell me, wouldn't you?" he asks, and you immediately reach out for him, his hands curling into yours as you interlock your fingers. you want to slam your head into a wall, mostly for worrying him in this way. The last thing you'd been thinking about was a breakup, in fact, you'd finally resided yourself to the fact that you were in this relationship as long as spencer wanted you.

"do you think that's what this is about?"

"isn't it?" his quick retort makes you frown, and now you're facing one another with matching pouts. "i just want you to trust me with your feelings... all of them." he explains. "even the ones i might not enjoy the most." he treads lightly, and you find that there's nobody in the world who could matter more to you. "and i'm sorry if i haven't been doing enough to let you know that." and you huff in annoyance, but not with him. never with him. with yourself for overthinking.

"you've got it all wrong." you tell him, and you hope your words sound as definitive as they feel. "a breakup is the farthest thing from my mind." you shuffle a bit on the couch, mostly to invade the space he just took. you don't stop moving until he's back in your orbit, your knees brushing against his leg. "i've never met anyone like you before." and it feels cliche, but you suppose you've earned the right to quote the words, because they're true. "i think as far as expectations for boyfriends go, you managed to smash through them all."

spencer finds himself nervous under the onslaught of kind words. he can't look away from you though, because it's so rare when you let him into your head. despite all his profiling skills, you were still almost completely a mystery. he understood your physical cues, but the emotional ones were still hard to pinpoint. "i think sometimes i still keep waiting for you to realize how amazing you are..." and he has that annoying feeling of giddiness in his stomach. it feels childish, but he adores the rush loving you continues to give him.

"i think i'm a little aware." he says, and you laugh. your hands reach out, and now you're the one holding his face. he thinks it's a comfort thing of yours, the way you like to hold onto him when you're talking. his apprehension towards touch was no match for the way your hands on his face brought him a feeling of comfort like nothing else.

"and you still want to be with me?" you ask, and you don't sound bashful, more confused than anything else. spencer's confusion soon matches your own, his eyebrows furrowing as he recites your words over and over in his head. what sort of question was that? "i just mean that there's so many types of women out there... you work with so many." and your mind drifts to his closeness with the girls he worked with in the fbi. namely jennifer jareau.

you'd only met her a few times, you knew she was married with sons, but you couldn't shake the thought that if she wanted him she could have him. she was older, more confident, disastrously pretty. "i just don't understand why someone like you would want to be with someone like me." you express, and spencer is flabbergasted. he forces you to peel your hands from his face, instead choosing to hold your hands and squeeze them gingerly.

"someone like you?" and he wants you to get it all out, every last bit of it, mostly so that he can correct every incorrect notion about yourself that you expose.

"someone who's immature, naive, inexperienced, uncertain about almost every major decision... you know? someone like me." you divulge, and he winces. "you've got so much going for you, i just don't want you to feel like i'm holding you back." you admit. "so when i saw you reading... i don't know-" you trail off, and spencer's eyes shoot across the room to his own discarded book. "i guess i just remembered how incredible you are, and how severely inadequate i must be in comparison." and your voice gets quieter as you finish.

"you could never hold me back." he states firmly. "and even more than that... i don't think it's actually possible for someone to really hold you back." he admits, and you feel him beginning to start on a tangent, though you don't mind. they were far and few in between these days. "to me it always seemed more like an excuse people use to place blame on someone else for their shortcomings." spencer's let go of your hands, and you watch them as he gestures boisterously. "for everything i'm good at, there's so many areas where i fall short."

you don't think you've ever loved him more.

"and who says phd's and fast reading skills are what make a person better suited or fit for anything?" and he knows that you want to rebuttal, so he continues so you don't get the chance to. "my skills help me with the job that i do... we can agree that's true, right?" he asks, and you nod your head. "right. but, you don't want to have my job, do you?" he asks, and your nose curls up. you thought that what spencer did was admirable, you loved celebrating the victories with him, you knew it was important, but you don't think you had it in you.

"no, i guess not." you disagree.

"and you don't need to be called 'doctor' or hold a gun, or kick down doors, in order to be... a suitable life partner."

"you're not kicking down any doors, spencer." you crack a joke, and you like that he laughs, it's the kind that morphs into a toothy smile.

"maybe not, i just mean that out of the two of us, you're not the one who needs to worry about not being adequate... i don't think there's anything in existence that would make me not want to be with you." and you feel bashful, but know full well that you can't pull your eyes away from him. "you're a lot to lose." he exhales, and you blink. "and you don't need doctorates or much of anything for that to be the case." spencer beams a little bit, "you captivate people without even realizing it sometimes." spencer's hand moves to rest on your thigh.

"you think so?"

"sometimes i try and figure out how i got so lucky, and i hope that i keep doing whatever it takes to make you stay." he admits. "does that make sense?" he asks, and you feel your heart wanting to burst out of your chest.

"it makes a lot of sense." you agree. "and i can guarantee that as long as you want me, you'll have me." you promise.

"and if i want you forever?" he asks, and you smile despite yourself.

"then i guess you're stuck with me forever, doctor reid." and he likes the thought a lot more than he anticipated. he thinks that's why he can't ignore the urge to kiss you. he leans forward, lips overtaking yours like a magnet being pulled towards a kindred force. you almost pounce, finding yourself rooted on top of his lap, fingers finally finding solace in his hair, as his hands scope out your waist and the curve of your hips.

you hum when his lips peel away from yours, landing on your neck as he peppered the space with kisses and small bites. kissing spencer was a surefire way to get you both started down a path of insatiability. it was dangerous, but you supposed with the conversation context in mind, it made perfect sense for this to be the end result. still, it feels like there's more to say, and you suppose that it's why you tighten your hold on his hair just slightly, craning your neck to give him all the access he needs. "spence?" you gasp.

he doesn't verbally acknowledge you, instead his arms loop around you, bringing you closer as he proceeds to leave hickeys in areas that would be much too difficult to hide. "spence..." you try again.

"i'm listening." he promises before he's placing a kiss just behind your ear. it makes you squirm, suddenly feeling lightheaded as his grip on your waist tightens slightly.

"can you tell me again?" you ask, and you don't want to ruin the moment, especially after he just sweetly poured his heart out to you. "tell me how you feel about me..." you instruct a bit more impatiently. spencer's more interested in leaving more marks on your skin, but he also enjoys the vulnerability that comes with expressing himself to you. he pulls away from your neck with one last peck, before his lust-filled gaze is locked on yours. you've taken to raking your nails through his hair, gently dragging against his scalp.

"you still don't know?" he asks, and part of you thinks he's doing this on purpose. it's not until you register the slight upturn of his lips that you recognize that he's teasing you.

"is it so bad that i want to hear it again?" you press, and you're feeling a bit impatient, mostly because you're itching to finally spit the three word phrase out, but you want him to say it first.

"no." he denies, head shaking. "it's not bad at all, and i don't mind telling you, but, can you ask me the right way?" and you feel the shift, the way his fingers finally slip under your shirt. it makes you jump, the way his fingertips trace over the skin of your lower back. "what are you fishing for, pretty girl?" you don't have the courage to stare at him anymore, instead you find your head glued to his chest, eyes squeezed shut, as your arms looped around him.

"i'm not fishing." you deny, and spencer presses a swift kiss to the top of your head. despite the desire to 'get to the good part' that you know you both feel, you still enjoy this part. the clinginess, the way he showered you in attention and affection that you had never believed yourself worthy of. he loved you so openly, so easily. it never felt like a burden, it never felt like something he had to try too hard at. you liked that, you liked that he made falling in love so easy.

"no?" he doesn't sound convinced. "what are you hoping i'll say then? i know you have an idea." he says and his chin is resting on the top of your head as he adjusts you on his lap. the tension still rests in the air, but he's holding you like he's comforting you almost, arms looped around you in an almost-hug that feels warm and comfortable and familiar. it's the kind that you could get lost in, fall asleep in. maybe you will, just as soon as you get through this last little emotional hoop.

"you don't know everything."

"did i say that?" he corrects you lowly, he's not impatient with you, and you wonder how long it took him to garner enough stamina to keep up with your sass.

"no." you deny, and he hums in agreement. you've taken to running your hands up and down his back, palms closing and opening as you try and quiet your anxiety. "i want to hear you say that you love me again." you admit, and it feels like a lump is forming in your throat. "i know that you do." you add a second after. "but sometimes i like to hear it anyway..." you clear your throat. "it makes me feel-" and you trail off, because you haven't really gotten over this hurdle.

spencer's smiling, and you know that he is, because as much as he knows you, you think you know him a little bit too. "how does it make you feel?" he asks, and you shake your head, eliciting an amused sort of exhale. "you can tell me anything." he reminds you, and of course you know that. "or we could move on... if it's too much to say right now." he offers you an out like the gentleman he always has been. "do you want to go back to before?" and you definitely want to kiss him.

maybe do a bit more than kiss.

"yes." you agree, but when it seems like he's about to move, you hold him even tighter to you. "wait, no." you deny, and he's exhaling through his nose. you cringe, because you know that sometimes you can be indecisive, but you think about what he'd told you earlier. you remind yourself that he wanted you, and you calm down. "i want to kiss you again." you start, and he doesn't say anything, because he knows you're not finished. "but i want to finish our conversation first." you huff, and he's surprised, in a pleasant sort of way.

"we can do that." he promises, "what do you want to tell me?"

"i like when you tell me that you love me." you admit, and you think it's good that you're not looking at him. you also like that he's still lightly dragging his fingers along your waist, it makes you shy, but you welcome it. "it's not something that you just tell everyone, so i like that you tell me, even though i haven't said it back." you feel like you're losing your breath as you rush to get it out. "and i like how what you said earlier makes me feel."

"how's that?" and spencer is spencer. he likes to drag things like this out, he likes for you to elaborate, to explain yourself. you suppose he likes to hear you just as much as you like to hear him.

"i don't know how to express it really, but it feels nice. 'cause you always sound like you mean it when you say it." you freeze when his fingers stop their slow journey, but you don't have time to focus on that right now. "not like butterflies, but it's like stabilizing." you shrug your shoulders. "and it's not the sort of thing that feels like it comes with some sort of price. like i don't hear it, and think 'oh he's only saying this because he wants to sleep with me', it doesn't-" you inhale. "it doesn't make me anxious or anything."

spencer's disappointed that his memory mostly works for things he's seen rather than heard, because he wants to relive this conversation for the rest of his life. it's a bit unheard of, especially in his lifetime. he's seen people in love, he's witnessed incredible relationships, but nothing he's seen has ever compared to the way that you manage to make him feel. he's had girlfriends, one-night-stands, experimentations, and things in between that felt like they could be the real thing, eventually. being with you though feels easy.

even when things go wrong, when you're too stubborn to communicate, and he's too tired to fight for you to, it still feels easy. like the struggles that come with your relationship are struggles he's willing to deal with. you're someone he's willing to deal with.

"it makes me want to stay." you offer, and it's scary, mostly because you've got the world's worst habit of running away when things get too real. you packed your bags at the first inconvenience, it was who you were, who you had been before spencer. you didn't stick around to fight for your relationships, you didn't let anyone fight for you either. "like... like even if things go horribly wrong, it'll still be okay as long as you still sound like you mean it when you say i love you."

you don't think you'll cry, but you do think once you're all finished, you'll want to stay wrapped up in him like this.

"i've just never met anyone that makes life make so much sense." and your leg is slightly shaking, and you're burrowing even deeper into his chest, holding him just a bit tighter. "so please... can you tell me again?" you ask, and your hands have taken fistfuls of his shirt, curling just slightly as you try and will your heartbeat to slow.

"you all done?" he asks, and you nod your head, all done with talking for now. "i'm so proud of you." and your confusion is back, as well as your ability to talk.

"what for?" you inquire, and he unloops his arms from around you. you don't want to move, but you know where this is going. still, you decide you'll wait until he asks you.

"can you look at me, please?" he asks quietly, and you're immediately pulling back, hands in your lap as you take in all the emotions resting on your boyfriend's face.

"oh, spence!" and you hope he's not about to cry. you've never been privy to it, but you can imagine what it'll do to you in your emotionally high state. "i know that was a lot, i'm sorry." you apologize despite the fact that you've done nothing wrong, a bad habit.

"please don't ever apologize for something like that." he corrects you gently. "i'm proud, because i can imagine how hard that likely was, but you did it anyway, so thank you for sharing how you're feeling with me." you look away just for a second, the moment feeling too heavy for you to manage. you're looking back at him just a moment after, his stare something you've always been terrible at ignoring and avoiding. "would it be a let down if i told you that i feel the same way about you?" he asks, and you wonder if this phase ever ends.

you don't want to wake up one day and find that your smile no longer reaches your eyes when you look at him, or hear his voice.

"no." you answer quietly. "i like when you agree with me, especially about your feelings for me." and it's a small joke, one you partially mean. "but, you still haven't told me that you love me, yet." you remind him a bit more sternly than you have been.

"i know." he retorts, and he looks a bit smug. you want to say that you hate when he gets like this, but you know you're lying. "i'm waiting to see how long it'll take you to crack." he admits, and your nose curls. he beams at you, and you want to glare, just for the fun of it. "why are you determined not to say it first?" he asks, and you cross your arms over your chest, busted.

"you don't know what's in my head." you instead argue, and his eyes roll, but he still seems amused. "i can say it first if i very well wish." you add, and his eyebrows raise, a challenge. unlucky for you, because you had a problem with being challenged. you would always walk right into his trap like a fool.

"so then say it." he taunts, and you realize pride is one hell of a killer.

"fine, i will." you retort, voice laced in mock-aggravation. "i love you." you deadpan, you say it like it's a bother. "happy now?"

"not with that attitude. can you try again? say it like you mean it?" he presses, and you're weaker in the knees than you initially believed. all your bravado goes right out the window, and you're suddenly anxious again, with no bite to curb your words, you're certain he'll hear every ounce of emotion you feel towards him if you say it again.

"spence." you exclaim, and he's not moved. you think you hate him just a little. "it's not fair, you're being mean." you express, looking down at your lap, and you know that you're only behaving this way because you're overwhelmed.

"i'm not." he promises, and he ducks just a little so that you're looking directly at him again. "i wouldn't be, especially not about this." he adds. "i just want you to say it again for me, can you do that? please?" he asks, and you hate how absurdly handsome he is sitting across from you. he's got this way of looking innocent even when he's baiting you, and he's always got this intensity in his stare that's enough to knock the wind out of you. it's kryptonite, and precisely why you concede.

"spencer, i love you." he groans, quietly, but you hear him all the same. he's kissing you before you can react, and it's easy getting lost in moments like these. he always kisses you like he's trying to swallow you whole, too handsy for his own good. his kisses are desperate, tongue swiping out just slightly, likely to test the waters. you match his ferocity, and let your own tongue drag over his bottom lip before you press a bit more forcibly, hurriedly, desperately.

"i love you." you don't know why you're saying it again, but it's not as hard as the first time. you kiss him again, grumbling when he's quick to lean out of reach. you shoot him a sour glance, and he's not moved.

"hey, i love you too." he echoes you in the most love sick sort of way. it feels precisely as you had described it earlier, and that makes you happier. the fact that the feelings didn't change, didn't disappear all because you'd said the three words back. you hum contentedly, and then your head is back on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. "does it still sound like i mean it?" he asks, he questions you softly, like he's trying to preserve the moment.

"mhm." you answer quietly, and you strain to kiss his throat once, before your back to resting against him. "did it sound like i meant it?" you mimic his line of questioning, and you're happy when his arms are back around you. he's a lot more respectable this time around, but before long, his hands are finding their chosen place back under your shirt, exploring your waist and hips as you try not to squirm.

"yes." he replies, and you're glad to hear it. "can you say it again?" you suppose in the grand scheme, you do have lots to make up for. he'd probably want you to say it over and over again.

"i love you." it's instantaneous, as is the way spencer's hold on you grows more firm. you hadn't wanted to mention it, the way sitting here like this with him had you itching for more, but it seemed you weren't the only one in that headspace. "spence?" you question, and he's dragging his hand up and down your back, legs starting to bounce just slightly.

"yeah?"

"can we go back to before now?" you ask, and you expect him to be a tease. he could never just give you what you wanted, he always had to drag it out, and make you nervous.

"back to before?" he pries, and he's leading. you huff audibly, and you adjust yourself on his lap, trying to control the way the pit in your stomach seemed to grow warm, heating you up from the inside. "you'll have to be a bit more specific than that, love." he tsks, and you hate him.

"i just-" you frown, hating this part. "i want you." you deadpan. "and you know that, so i don't know why you're being like this." except you do, because it's amusing to spencer to watch you get all flustered and nervous. you don't know why, but it's how he is. you think that one day you'll try your hand at flustering him back, just to see what all the hype is about. "i want you to-" and you're not sure exactly what counts for too blunt with a boyfriend like spencer. "let's f-fuck, okay?" and spencer's got that stupid amused look on his face again.

god, you hate him.

"that wasn't too hard was it?" he questions, and you cut your eyes. you're certain he'll make you pay for the looks, and the smart mouth down the line, but you can't care right now.

"it was excruciating." you correct haughtily. "you should be ashamed of yourself for treating the girl that you love this way." you add, and spencer's got his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he takes you in. you gulp, shuffling just slightly as you realize precisely the predicament you've gotten yourself into.

"do you want me to make it up to you?" he asks, and he sounds breathier than before, which only serves to make you more of a hot-and-bothered mess.

"i-" you blink owlishly, unsure of his intentions.

"yes or no?" he presses, and you think either way this goes, your done for. "you've just got to say the word."

"yes." head nodding, eyes blown to hell, it's easy enough. "you should. you definitely should." you respond, and then he's kissing you again. he's much more intense this time, stealing all of the air out of your lungs as his nails scratch against your skin, you hands moving to cup his face, you hope to keep him anchored to you this way. when he breaks from the kiss again, you're ready to lay into him, only to squeak when he scoops you up, standing up from the chair.

your legs immediately lock around his hips, and you're panting already, he seemed to have that constant effect. all it took was a little kissing, and you were already a mess. "i love you." he says this like it's a reminder, and you are quick to chase his mouth with your own. you could say you were a bit obsessed with the act.

"i know." you reply, and his eyes roll at you, but he still looks as love sick as you feel.

"good. i'm going to need you to remember that, because when we get to the bed, i'm going to do a lot of things that might make you think the opposite." he says this like a definitive promise, and you gasp. "do you understand?" he asks, and you're shivering, the anticipation already managing to strike you down.

"yeah-yes!" you stutter. "i understand, it's okay." you add. spencer's already got this look of pride residing in his eyes, and you know that you're in for it, silly you for thinking love confessions would be enough to get you out of all the backtalk and clear attitude. "i'm ready!" you insist like the eager girl you are.

"we'll see." he retorts.

god, you love him.

[qlossytbh]

okay i’m dying rn

spencer seeing reader in a fancy dress for an event, he would struggle so much until reader decides to pull him into the nearest storage room to relieve some pressure

babes im so sorry this took me so long to get to omg... i got a lil carried away

spencer reid would be waiting for you at the banquet, hips resting against the refreshment table as his fingers played with the plastic lip of his cup. you'd asked him to just meet you there despite his insistent offers to pick you up, so he'd picked up a plate of your favorite dessert as he waited.

it was when you walked in that the room felt stuffy, his collar felt too tight, he unbuttoned his blazer, his sweater vest was suddenly too warm, his belt needed to be loosened, he needed you to do it for him.

you walked in wearing a simple dress, but the light reflecting on the black satin complimented your perfect body, your belly, your hips, the shift of your thighs as you approached. he felt dirty seeing the innocent smile on your face, excited to spend a night with him as his colleagues, and all he could think of was your pretty legs wrapped around him-

he let you drag him person to person for greetings, the small talk felt like ages to him. spencers hand was practically glued to your waist, and you felt every twitch of his fingers, every small squeeze. he seemed startled when others spoke to him, not scared, but like he was snapping out of a daydream.

"spence, are you okay?" you'd dragged him to a wall away from the other guests, hands rubbing his tense shoulders.

"what do you mean?" spencer responded, barely able to keep his eyes locked on yours when you looked like that right in front of him.

"you're so distracted, is it a case or something?" you watched as his eyes not-so-subtly traced down your dress, the little peek of his tongue in the corner of his mouth, you realized it wasn't a case.

"do you need some help with something?" you asked, pressing a little closer. his impatient nod was enough to get you drenched, the small, "please," he let out urged you to pull him away and somewhere private.

it wasn't ideal- spencer liked to take his time with you- but the storage closet at the edge of the room would have to do.

spencer kissed you like he was starving once the door clicked shut, his large hands grasping at your hair and waist and hips- he was everywhere once you two were alone. your left arm wrapped around his shoulders as your right hand quickly planted itself on his growing bulge, his moan drowned in your lips.

you made quick work of his belt and zipper, moving to lower to your knees but spencer quickly picked you back up again.

"can you please turn around? i- god i wanna be inside you so bad, please?"

how could you say no?

you turned around, pressing your hands into the wall in front of you, face turned to the side to get a glimpse of spencer in your periphery. his curls fell into his face perfectly, his lips parted as he pushed your dress up to bunch around your waist. long fingers pushed your underwear to the side, middle and ring tracing their way from your clit to your hole.

"you're so wet baby, such a pretty pussy, wish i could see you better," spencer whispered, eyes glancing between your pussy and your face, fingers dipping in.

he pumped his fingers slowly, curled to brush your g-spot, his other hand held your dress up. he stopped once your legs began to shake, once his hand was soaked and your fingers clawed the wall, only to push his cock in soon after.

your mouth fell open, silent gasps and quiet moans falling from your lips, desperate to keep quiet as spencer fucked you slow and deep, only feet from the event crowd. dirty praises fell from his lips, his hand grasping the plush skin of your hip, the other wrapped around you to rub your clit.

the sounds of your shared whimpers mingled with the subtle noise of his hips pressing against the backs of your thighs with every thrust. spencer knew to stay gentle, he wanted to be nice to you, to make you feel good, but also to avoid getting caught.

his rhythm only faltered as the both of you came, his hips jutting against your own as his body curled over against you, moans quiet for only you to hear.

when spencer pulled out his fingers quickly pushed back in, shoving his cum deeper into your pussy. he cleaned you up as much as he could, licking his fingers clean before bringing them back to your pussy, only to clean them off again.

the two of you quickly left the event after exiting the closet, your legs too shaky and his face too red to hide what had just happened. it's a good thing you walked, it gave him a reason to drive you home, an invitation to ask to come inside, to ask to stay the night.

[qlossytbh]

[qlossytbh]

𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 so what if instead of JJ you were the one who kept emilys identity a secret and spencer is giving you the cold shoulder.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 mentions spoilers for 6x18, spoilers for 7x2, mentions of drugs, mentions of addiction, very brief mentions of consuming alcohol to cope, fighting, pining, angst :(, but then fluff :D, not proofread

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 so i had this idea while watching szn 7 and i got carried away lol

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Spence,” You called, following hot on his trail, frustration welling up in every single fiber of your body. “Spence, look, can we talk about this?”

Spencer had been giving you the cold shoulder throughout the whole day. Dismissing you cruelly, brushing off your every input in the case— you knew you deserved it, if you were being completely honest.

It was only a matter of time before the team found out that you had covered up Emily’s whereabouts, and you knew they had a right to be mad but the only person who was still mad at you was Spencer. The one person you didn’t want mad at you.

Hell even Derek was willing to talk to you and hear you out, but Spencer— God.

And it wasn’t even like he was taking it out on Hotch as well. He was just getting a hit at you and you were growing impatient because he refused to talk about it, just like he was now.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” He responded contemptuously. You held yourself back from groaning, you placed an angry hand on your hip and faced him.

“You’re angry and disappointed— I get it,” He scoffed, low enough for you to almost miss it but you didn’t. You watched him, completely baffled as he continued grappling at his files. “With the way we handled Emily we—“

He whipped around, nearly bumping into you. You stumbled back momentarily, taken aback by his hostility. “Listen, I have a lot going on, all right?”

“What? Spencer—“ He was halfway out the door, before your stuttering words stopped him in his tracks. He turned on his heels, facing you with the coldest expression you’ve ever seen him wear around you.

You and Spencer never fought. Like ever.

“You know what I think it is?” You started.

“What?” He responded, in a way that made it seem like he was testing you. Like he was warning you not to push him past his limits.

“You’re pissed that me and Hotch were able to control our micro-expressions in the waiting room that night and you weren’t able to detect our deceit.” Spencer looked away, seemingly not being able to face you.

You had definitely gone far, but the exasperation was driving you off the wall and you weren’t beginning to think straight.

Maybe it was the desperation to just be okay with him. Just the thought of this lasting more than a week filled you with dread, you felt helpless.

“You think this is because of my profiling skills?” Disbelief filled his voice and for the millionth time in these twenty four hours, you felt shame. You opened your mouth to continue but he cut you off by saying your full name— Not the nickname he usually called you.

He said it harshly and full of condescension. “Listen, the only reason you were able to manage my perception is because I trusted you— I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

You looked down, guilt ripping at every single fiber inside of you. You knew it wasn’t okay, and you felt horrible for the repercussions your secret inflicted on the team. It was gut wrenching, to hold someone you loved so much while he violently sobbed with grief and not be able to tell him the truth, not being able to protect him from the pain you swore you’d always shield him from.

But you did it to protect Emily and to protect them. And Spencer didn’t need to understand it, he was allowed to be pissed, but god forbid he talked to you about that anger. Instead he just let it bundle up until he was ready to rub it in your face.

“I couldn’t,” Your voice was unstable.

“You couldn’t? Or you wouldn’t?” There was that goddamn derisive tone again.

“No, I couldn’t!” You seethed, eyes beginning to burn with tears.

It wasn’t logical that you end up crying, and you didn’t want anyone— much less Spencer, to notice he had that effect on you. But he was your friend and he was being cruel.

“What if I started taking dilaudid again, would you have let me?”

You clamped your mouth shut, eyes widening slightly. The tears just began getting harder to blink away, mind flashing images and memories back to when Spencer was struggling with Dilaudid.

“You didn’t.” You weren’t sure if you were saying that to convince yourself or even ease yourself from the thought of the possibility that Spencer had relapsed. It was feeling harder to breathe.

“Yeah, but I thought about it,” He said finally.

No one, not Derek, not JJ— No one, had been by Spencer’s side when he was struggling with his addiction. As his best friend, the second you caught on to him, you encouraged him to get the help he needed and you held his hand every step of the way.

So how dare he throw that into your face right now, as if the consequences of your decision may have led him to potentially relapse. How he made it seem like his suffering was your fault.

For some reason you couldn’t help thinking that in a certain way, it was. And that killed you.

“That isn’t fair,” You whispered, trying to swallow down the tears that were causing your throat to close up.

“You’re not exactly allowed to talk to me about fair,” Spencer turned, giving you one last glance before turning and leaving the room. You stood there, frustration and tears heavy on your trail.

“Reid,” Prentiss called out, to which he completely ignored, waltzing past her without a second glance. The whole team looked over at him and then turned to you.

You sucked in a shaky breath through your nose, trying to prevent yourself from crying. The tears welling in your eyes were completely rooted by all types of anger.

You rushed out of the room and past the team, heading in the opposite direction that Spencer had stormed off to, desperately needing a minute to breath.

“But careful not to burn the onions,” Hotch inquired, keeping his gaze on the pan.

“Bravo Aaron!” Rossi exclaimed. You let out a low huff of amusement, rolling your eyes at your two co-workers.

Hotch had suggested hosting a dinner party where Rossi teaches the group how to cook like a ‘true Italian’. It was a bonding experience he thought would benefit the team.

Everyone was watching Rossi as he cooked his infamous Carbonara recipe, laying out all the essential steps and rules of a true pasta dish recipe. A glass of wine sat temptingly in front of you, but you knew that if you were to lay a single hand on it, Rossi would rip said hands off your body.

You really needed that drink though.

Once the jet landed after solving the case today, Emily came up to talk to you, mainly just to ask how you were holding up. You told her that you were fine, but she clearly gave you zero satisfaction in believing your white lie.

You were not fine, because since your fight with Spencer you hadn’t talked to him all day. Not during the case, not after it— Not even on the jet ride home, which is when you and Spencer would usually sit together to play poker or to read a book together.

Your mind had been running its gears near exhaustion, both worried and incredibly frustrated with him. It was when Emily informed you that she wasn’t entirely sure if Spencer was going to make an appearance tonight when you realized that you may have potentially ruined one of your most valued relationships.

So yeah, halfway through cooking dinner and no sign of Spencer. You needed that glass of wine— maybe even three more.

The sound of the doorbell ringing busted you from your thoughts. You turned to look at the door. When you looked at Emily she was just as confused as you were, shooting a perplexed shrug your way. Rossi glanced over at the door, before Derek stood. “I got it,”

“Grazie Mille!” JJ reached for her glass beside you before Rossi scolded her profusely.

“Should’ve given you a heads up,” You whispered, resting your forearms on the marble in front of you.

Rossi continued, blabbering passionately about pasta and the true art behind it. You couldn’t help but feel the familiar fondness nestle in your chest. It had been a while since everyone had come together like this. You missed it, but you couldn’t help but feel like there was still something off.

Probably because there was.

“It’s all about timing and rhythm,” He said, hands working on the pasta in front of him. You watched curiously, pursing your lips in concentration. “And if you don’t feel yourself doing it properly, please, order a pizza.”

You laughed softly, not feeling it quite reach your eyes as they fell down to the marble counter. “Sorry I’m late,”

You turned around, straightening your back to see Spencer making his appearance in Rossi’s kitchen. Your mouth hung open, just barely, and you could practically feel your breath hitch into the back of your throat, when he smiled widely.

He walked up to the counter, standing in between you and Emily. The two of you made eye contact and he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it shut, not entirely sure what to say— much less to you. Your eyes nervously left his, cheeks beginning to buzz with heat as Rossi continued explaining how this whole cooking dynamic was going to work.

You hadn’t mentally prepared yourself to see him tonight since Emily said that he was possibly not going to make it. But you weren’t about to deny how happy it made you to see him, and to have him close to you— even if he was angry.

About fifteen minutes and a wine glass later, you stood next to the stove, eyeing the pancetta and onions that sizzled away with another glass of wine in your hand, swirling the dark liquid around.

“The onions are starting to burn,” A voice beside you said. You snapped out of your trail of thoughts, turning to see Spencer making his way towards you, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

His chin jutted towards the pan and you noticed that in fact the onions were beginning to burn. You cursed silently, hands fumbling between the wine glass and the wooden spoon. You quickly downed the remaining wine in your glass before setting it on the counter next to the stove and removing the pan from the heat, all in a mildly frenzied panic.

Spencer took an odd notice that you had consumed two glasses of wine in a span of 15 minutes.

“Don’t tell Rossi,” You groaned, mixing the crisp pancetta and onions around lamely. Spencer chuckled, taking a step closer to you.

You glanced up at him, and quickly averted your gaze back to the pan, blinking rapidly. Garcia and Morgan were laughing away as they chopped up some more parsley while JJ and Hotch were in charge of setting down the plates. Rossi and Prentiss were— drinking wine and chatting.

You were weirdly nervous and found yourself thinking of ways to get away from the situation at hand. “So uh— How are you?”

You bit back a spiteful reply, not wanting to make this worse. However, it was ironic that now he was the one wanting to talk and putting you in a position where you now wanted to give him the cold shoulder.

“Good,” You quipped, mixing the pancetta around. Spencer cleared his throat, shifting on the back of his feet. “I thought you were ignoring me.”

It did no good to beat around the bush, and honestly bringing up the topic at hand filled you with less anxiety than whatever small talk the two of you were attempting to make. Spencer sighed heavily. Your brows were furrowed, eyes drilling holes into the crisping pancetta.

“Can we talk outside?” He muttered. You nodded, informing Emily and Rossi that the pancetta was done but you needed to head out for a bit.

“What you said back at the station,” You started, closing the door behind you. “Were you actually thinking about relapsing or were you saying that to get at me,”

His brows furrowed. “Wha— Yes! I wouldn’t ever use that to spite you,”

You crossed your arms across your chest. “It felt like that was the intention,”

“It wasn’t, I promise I—“ Spencer peered to his side. “I was really mad— I still kind of am,”

“Then let’s talk about it,” You exasperated, voice growing weak as you finally turned to face him. “We talk about it Spencer, you don’t give me the cold shoulder and then lash out on me when I try to talk about things.”

Spencer knew he could be harsh, especially when he was angry and especially when that anger was rooted by betrayal. He had a hard time opening up about what was going on inside of him constantly, but that wasn’t an excuse to lash out on you the way he did.

“Can I ask you something just to get it out of the way?” Spencer nodded immediately.

“Anything,”

“Why does your anger feel personal? Why aren’t you shutting Hotch out the way you’re doing with me?” Your eyes were mixed with layers of all sorts of complicated feelings

“Because it is personal Y/n,” You looked at Spencer. “You are my best friend, probably one of the most important people in my life and It makes me feel stupid having gone to your house crying countless nights when you knew this whole time that she was alive.”

“I feel like an idiot..!” You felt a pang of guilt. You never wanted Spencer feeling stupid for feeling anything.

“I know! I know—“

The room suddenly felt heavy and you wish the back of your eyes weren’t burning the way they currently were. You really wanted this to be a good night.

“You’re allowed to be mad at me Spence,” You closed your eyes, drawing in a deep breath. “I’m not expecting this to be fine immediately, because whether or not my lie has justification, it was still a lie and I’m sorry,”

His eyes scanned yours slowly, both of your faces etched with regret. “I’m sorry for lying,”

“I really wish I could say I shouldn’t have done it, but I truly didn’t have another choice,” Spencer watched you dig your teeth into the plump flesh of your lower lip.

“Yeah,” He sighed in defeat. “I know,”

The two of you shifted in the uncomfortable silence, not knowing how else to act or what to say. You cleared your throat and looked up at him. “If you need some more time I get, just let me know,”

“No—“ Spencer shook his head instantly, looking down at you. “I really don’t want that.”

Spencer was miserable with the distance he put between you these past couple of days. It was hell to him, having felt so betrayed by someone he loved so deeply the way he loved you, but talking things out with you, it made things better. Not fixed, but better.

He reached out, grabbing your forearm and pulling you close to him. Your arms immediately flew around his neck, hands tangling into his hair while his arms wrapped themselves snugly around your waist. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and relaxing against your body. He missed having you like this.

“I’m sorry,” You muttered. Spencer communicated back by giving you a tight squeeze and the two of you stood there, engulfed in each other's company for just a while longer.

When you pulled away, it was only a few inches, just enough for your hands to remain on his shoulder while his hands sat on the curve of your waist.

You watched him, the hairs on the back of your neck suddenly standing up when you noticed his gaze flicker upon your lips. Your face burned and a million unconscious thoughts started barging into your head and—

“Reid! Y/N!” Derek shot from inside the house. You jumped, pulling away from Spencer and turning to the door.

“Uh—“ You pointed back. “We should, you know—“

“Y-Yeah!—“ Spencer squeaked, face turning red. “Yeah, uh, definitely— we definitely should—“

Yep, you definitely missed whatever this was.

[qlossytbh]

the team is chasing the sickest murderers to ever live meanwhile these two on the phone sexually harassing each other

[qlossytbh]

MY GIRL JJ IS BACKKKKKMMMM

[qlossytbh]

when the unsub's arrested and its only 20 minutes into the episode......

[qlossytbh]

this has been on my mind for the past MONTH and i die everytime i see it. 😫

god i love editors

[qlossytbh]

[qlossytbh]

based on a conversation with @fynn-arcana

not my drawings, my edit