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#((and a time skip sounds good! maybe emily's thinking about telling him))
theheadlessgroom · 7 months
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@beatingheart-bride
"It is," he smiled: Honestly, it still was funny to think that, in the grand scheme of things, he hadn't known Emily all that long. They'd only just recently met, had only gone on a few dates, and yet, it just didn't feel like it. It felt as if he'd known her for much longer, somehow, something he was unafraid to voice in that moment:
"Y'know, it...it's funny. I don't know why, I...I really couldn't tell you, but in a lot of ways...it feels like we've known each other a lot longer than we really have. Like...we've known each forever, somehow.
....that doesn't sound crazy, does it?"
Even if he didn't say so, Randall still couldn't shake the feeling that they had met before, that he had seen her face, had known her in some capacity before the night she walked into the shop. A great part of him wanted to ask about it, honestly: Had they gone to school together when they were very young? Had he seen her on the small screen or a magazine cover somewhere? Had they passed one another on the street before, sharing meaningful glances, maybe a brief conversation, but never really talked seriously until now? He wanted to know, and yet, something always seemed to hold him back from asking.
Hence this gamble: Maybe she did feel the same way. Maybe she had this unshakable feeling of deja vu, this feeling that she knew him too.
At any rate, he hoped he just didn't sound completely nuts putting this question to her...
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artificialinsanity · 8 months
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Hunting the Missing Link
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Story Summary: When a mysterious individual crash-lands in the sleepy town of Starlight Edge, four unassuming individuals begin on a journey to find its origins, kickstarting a chain of events that would alter thier lives forever.
Chapter Summary: Emily tries her god damned hardest to prevent the cops from finding her suspicious in the investigation of that loud crashing noise earlier.
[Previous] [Next]
Story under the cut.
"...Fffuck…"
Ellipse looked at her, confused. "What is it, Emily?"
"No time to explain - Get in the trunk of my car and don't leave until I tell you to, got it?"
"Yes ma'am! Right away!"
Ellipse did what he was told, while Emily called up Stella in the car.
“Hello?”
“Hey, don’t be alarmed, but I think the cops are on their way.”
“The cops? What reason would the police have with us this late at night?”
“What reason do you think?”
“I suppose it WAS pretty loud… And the crater’s still in the street…”
“Yeah I told him to hide in the trunk. I’ll deal with this, but keep the car on in case things go south, okay?”
“Got it!”
“Hanging up now.”
“Understood.”
And with that, Emily hung up the phone and waited for the inevitable. Because of course someone was going to call the police - it might be a small town but the sound of Ellipse crashing into the pavement was bound to get a few complaints from scared civilians. Emily just had to let them know that there was nothing to worry about. It was probably just an earthquake anyways.
Even though she was socially awkward.
And her sarcastic tone might raise suspicion.
…Yeah, she was fucked, wasn’t she?
The officer pulled up to the curb and stepped out of his vehicle. The abnormally scrawny boar Mobian walked up to Emily and engaged in conversation.
"'Evening, madam," he said, almost bored and out of it entirely, damn near slurring his words together as he spoke.
"Good evening, Officer…" She read the name on his nametag. "Brian."
Brian squinted, before returning to a neutral expression. "There's been reports of a noise complaint in this area. Sounded like an explosion. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
"Oh, I think someone just set off too many fireworks," Emily chuckled nervously. "Must have been really excited for the new year."
"New Year's was 2 weeks ago."
"Maybe they didn't get to celebrate until now. Could explain the sound of it then."
Emily was practically sweating mortar shells at this point and DESPERATELY trying to keep her composure. As Brian stared greatswords into her soul, she felt her heart skip a beat. Her breath quickened, heartbeat doubling, head pounding, she was in over her head, down on her luck, and she was a terrible liar, and yet…
She miraculously managed to remain cool, calm, and collected in spite of that.
Brian's gaze returned to normal as he spoke. "Well I guess that seems plausible enough. I'll be on my way then."
"Have a good night, sir."
"You too," he said sleeplessly as he walked back to his car.
And then he noticed the crater in the street. Emily's heart sank as he stopped to stare.
"You're telling me a firework caused all this?"
"Hey, that could just be a pothole!"
"There's smoke coming out of it. Not only is this recent, it's different from the average pothole."
"Well, I mean, some fireworks ARE pretty powerful-"
"Powerful enough to blow a man-sized hole in the street? I don't buy it. Something else is afoot here and you're clearly hiding something." Brian pulls out his pistol. "I want you to tell me exactly what happened here, and don't you lie to me!"
"Fine, I'll tell you," Emily said with her arms raised. "A robot fell out of the sky and landed dead in the street. I picked him up and hid him in my trunk before you showed up here."
Brian raised an eyebrow and turned the safety off his gun.
"Hey, you wanted the truth!" Emily retorted. "Now which sounds more believable to you, a rogue firework display, or a man-sized robot raining from the sky like it's Christmas morning?"
"I'm warning you, one more lie and I will shoot!"
"I swear to you, I'm telling the truth!"
Brian pulled the trigger and fired. Thinking quickly, Emily dove to the side, rolled into a ball, and made a mad dash for the driver's side door of her car. She pulled, but it didn't budge.
"Crap, locked!" She thought to herself. Dashing quickly to the middle of the street to dodge another shot, she noticed a sparkle in the middle of the road.
It was her car keys, which had fallen out of her pocket when she dove to safety. Diving between Brian's legs as he took another shot, she nabbed the keys tightly in her hand as she made another beeline for the car door.
- - -
Inside the car, Lyla and Stella were playing a racing game on thier DS's, while Vicki was fast asleep.
"Grass." Stella spoke.
"Brass." Lyla retorted.
"Assassin." Stella boasted.
"Classroom." Lyla remarked.
Stella paused for a moment. "Lass."
"Gas!" Lyla responded. "Wait-"
"Nope, too late! I win!"
"Dammit!" Lyla exclaimed, snapping her finger in disappointment.
Suddenly, the car door opened, letting in wind chill, as Emily quickly entered and started the car.
"What's the rush, buttercup?" Lyla teased. "Didn't go well?"
"No, we talked it out over ice cream and cookies," Emily exclaimed sarcastically. "The cops are on our ass and we need to move or we'll all be shot!"
Lyla and Stella were taken aback. But with no time to explain, Emily put her foot to the pedal and sped off down the road as fast as she could.
- - -
Outside, as Brian watched the car speed off down the road, he got into his police cruiser and made a radio call.
"This is Officer 744 requesting backup. There is a red '02 Mitsubishi Eclipse heading into town and I need every cruiser we have available on it. Over."
To Be Continued...
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winterapocalypse · 1 year
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Winter Apocalypse chapter 13
The Ancient Runes
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"I heard that Orton and Greyjoy didn't show up for practice today. Some people said they skipped school, but that sounds like bullshit to me. They'll be sick and won't want to let it be known." the coach informed them, but still the morale of the halved team did not improve.
Practice was over, and the boys were about to return to the locker room, except Aston, who was headed to her brother's office.
She was holding something in her hands.
Ken reached out, and Aston passed him the rune pendant she had stolen from the Night's Watch kid.
“Did Denny tell you about this shit?”
Ken denied. "Not really. He babbled about it sharing a secret with you, but I suspected there was more to it than just the two of you fooling around." he said, pulling out some huge, old rune book that belonged to their Royce ancestors, masters of the ancient practice of runes.
Ken was not considered a genius by most, but if he had never been academically good enough, he was instead an expert in runes. He was patient and calm and willing to help everyone - and if he hadn't been drawn into Hufflehdhdff it was only because the Royce family had always been Ravenclaws, and Ken was honestly too lazy to even think about being Hufflephdfhfd. He was so lazy and listless that he left the title of heir to Runestone Castle to his younger sister.
"They are not runes of the First Men."
"I know." Aston retorted.
“And this is white obsidian.”
"I know this too."
"So what did you come here to do?" Ken chuckled, as Aston continued to glare at him. "Emily said this is been in contact with a centaur. I believe her– I trust my best friend blindly, or she wouldn't be such. But I wonder…"
"What it could be, and why a NightWatcher had it." the older brother finished the sentence, closing the books he had on his desk. "I wasn't one of the professors called to the meeting with the Watchers , but I found out something. Yes. They were talking about centaurs. And that they spotted a centaur foal. And that they need a seal to avoid some war the strange woman in red was talking about. The Watchers hoped to recreate a unicorn, but a centaur could be useful in the same way…"
Ken handed the pendant back to his younger sister, who quickly put it back in her pocket.
"I have to go find that Watcher, the one with the strange gray eyes… Brontes ripped off half his face, that son of a bitch in Black. He won't be hard to find." Aston muttered to herself, but her brother's hand stopped her as she was about to run out of his office. "He definitely knows about the centaur. Maybe even about this war. I'll go right away, thanks for the info."
"Dennis went to sleep, as tired as he was." Ken informed her. "And you seem a little too agitated too. You should calm down a bit, it's sunset now. Would you like a broom ride above the castle, like the old times?"
When Aston had started school at Winter Hogwarts, her brother Ken would occasionally take her to practice flying in the skies around the school - but they hadn't done anything together for many years now. Aston was no longer fourteen, and Ken was always busy.
Why not?
Aston picked up her broomstick again, and together they took flight, doing the same old loop over the mysterious forest of ancient trees that stretched all the way to the Wall, far from the castle, hundreds of kilometers north of their school.
Aston and Ken rose so high that the Wall was there, almost on the horizon, shining in its pure blue ice.
And beyond it, there was not the usual white infinity of snow and frost, but something.
A huge army, and it was marching towards the Wall.
“What in the Seven Hells…” Ken muttered, as the rune on Aston's stolen amulet glowed.
Without waiting even a moment, the two brothers swooped towards the school.
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maybege · 2 years
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After Work Drinks - FBI Part 7
Summary: It is Friday night and you and the team go out for some drinks. (Part 7 of FBI)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader
Wordcount: 2.8k | Rating: T
Warnings: alcohol consumption, protective!Hotch, some flirting
I know there is no excuse for how long it has taken me to get anything Hotch-related out again and I hope you all haven’t abandoned this story yet. Inspiration found me again today and I literally just finished this chapter and thought “better late than never!”. Hotch and Reader are finally getting a bit closer and I have some fun chapters planned next! As always, please let me know what you think in a comment or a reblog! It would truly mean the world to me (and has been known to be the best motivator for writers *wink wink*)
masterlist | crossposted on AO3
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Sometimes you wondered what was harder: Trying to catch an UnSub 24/7 or pouring over reports for eight hours straight.
The sun had risen and descended during your workday and when the rain had started falling you had allowed yourself five minutes of staring wistfully out the window before you had turned back to the work at hand. With your uni days behind you, it was not like you had never spent days over texts and essays and reports but ever since you had joined the BAU, the exciting workdays had spoiled you with the exhilarating feeling of doing something.
Right now, it was safe to say you weren’t really doing anything.
“If we were in corporate right now, I’d totally hand this off to an intern,” Morgan grumbled a few desks over and Prentiss laughed.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Reid said, frantically scribbling onto a page that didn’t quite look like the protocol form, “You’re much too nice for it.”
“Watch who you’re calling nice, kid,” Derek warned him with a grin.
“Whom,” Reid corrected him with a grin, ducking when Morgan threw a crumpled up piece of paper at him.
You smiled, observing the banter from your own desk. Desk duty was nothing new to you but now that you had several cases under your belt, you felt like you belonged to the team now more than ever. And these days filled with nothing but boredom became much more pleasant when you felt like you could share in the fun with your colleagues.
*
By the time the clock hit eight, your reports were mostly done and you were convinced Morgan was on the brink of finding an intern a few departments over so he could hand off the rest of his (still very high) pile of paperwork.
You shut off your computer, looking forward to an early night in your own apartment. It had been forever since you had taken the time to make yourself a really nice and elaborate dinner. Maybe you could even read a book and call your mum. The thought made you wince.
You definitely should call your mum and tell her about the good evaluation. That could finally be one thing that convinced her it had been a good idea for you to move and work here.
With your mind preoccupied with dinner planning, you noticed later than usual that your phone had lit up.
One (1) new text message.
Josh: Heads up. Got friends over for drinks.
You could not contain your groan, letting your head lean back as far as it would. Why, of all the days in the year, did he have to do this on the one day you were hoping for a quiet evening at home?
“Well, that doesn’t sound good.”
You spotted Emily standing in front of you, Derek and Reid and even Rossi all packed up behind her, looking ready to go. All at the same time?
Sensing your question, the woman explained, “Going out for a few drinks,” she shouldered her bag, “you joining us?”
Your heart skipped a beat. This was it. This was your welcoming sign into the group.
“Sure, why not?” you smiled, grabbing your purse, “This report can wait until morning anyway.”
“Hey, Hotch!” Rossi called and you watched through the open door of his office as your boss’s head perked up and his body turned to look at your little group, “The team and I are going out for a nightcap, would you like to come with us?”
You were sure that he was going to say no. After all, even when he left his office, he had a pile of folders in his hands. Come to think of it, you had never seen him do anything but work. Even that night you had shared the motel room (a night you thought about way too often), he had had papers on his desk.
“Sounds good,” he said instead and you were relieved that you weren’t the only one who looked at least slightly surprised.
“It’s paperwork week,” Hotch explained, putting the pile from his desk on one of the roll containers, “And Jack is with Haley.”
Rossi was the first to overcome the shock. “Well then, who wants to ask Garcia?”
None of you was surprised when Morgan volunteered.
*
The bar they took you to seemed to be the team’s usually spot and you watched with amazement as they made their way through the crowds, aiming for one very specific table that for some miraculous reason was still free.
With all eight of you present, it was a tight fit and you pretended not to see how Garcia jumped on Morgan’s lap who embraced her with a teasing grin. These two were such flirts.
But what distracted you more was that Hotch was the one beside you on the outer edge of the bench while you were squeezed between him and Reid. It was clear that so much physical contact was making the young agent uncomfortable and you tried as best as you could to give him space. Which, in turn, meant that you were pressed up against Hotch in a way that would usually not happen.
You nervously eyed him. He looked stern, as always, and not too different from how he was in the office except for the fact that he was tense and his hands were resting on his thighs. Very large hands, you noted with a gulp, your eyes lingering on the way his fingers twitched and how his thigh was pressed so tightly against yours you could feel his body heat.
“Home sweet home!” Garcia cheered, ripping you out of your thoughts, “I can’t wait to ring in this Friday the way it deserves – with a Mai Tai.”
“I would’ve taken you for a Pina Colada – oh!” you spotted the waitress that had appeared out of nowhere, notepad in hand.
“Hi there,” she greeted you all, not looking up from the paper, “What can I get you?”
The order seemed to be pretty simple. Beer for everyone except Reid (who asked for a coffee in his typical fashion) and you.
“Just some water for me please,” you asked with a smile, explaining to a pouting Penelope, “I’ve barely had anything all day, Pen. I can still get something from the bar later on.”
“That is very responsible,” Hotch noted from beside you and you felt heat fill your cheeks, knowing that he was looking at you.
“Oh well,” you mumbled, internally screaming at the way the corners of his mouth were quirked up. He was smiling at you.
Hotch was smiling at you.
*
It took you twenty minutes to admit that you probably needed alcohol or else your body was going to implode from being literally pressed against the man of your dreams and seeing the way his hand was dwarfing the beer glass.
Reid was just finishing up an extensive explanation of a case the previous BAU chief, Gideon, had solved, when you gathered the courage to directly speak to Hotch.
“Uh, could I?” you motioned to the packed main floor of the pub.
Hotch’s eyes followed your motion and he nodded, taking a . “of course.”
The way he folded out of the booth shouldn’t do the things to you that it did, you knew that. But he was tall and large and the dark suits did things to you and –
“Don’t you want to get out?” Reid asked beside you, completely oblivious to your internal struggle.
You nodded quickly, hoping to the stars that Hotch had not noticed your staring or anyone else for that matter. But Rossi and Prentiss were having a discussion about some new policies Strauss wanted to implement and Morgan was whispering something into Garcia’s ear that you were sure you did not want to hear.
Making your way to the bar at the centre of the room, you tried to ignore the burning in your back, like someone was staring at you, and the senseless hope that it might be Hotch who was looking at you.
Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn –
“What will it be?”
You gave up your order for a cider, happily noting that they had your favourite kind, and were patiently waiting for the bartender to bring you your glass when a man sidled up next to you. You didn’t think much of it at first. He was wearing a suit like most of the patrons, obviously here for an after-work drink just like you were. And who could blame him for trying to enjoy what was left of Friday night?
The newcomer smiled at you and you nodded at him before looking back to the bar where the bartender who had taken your order was elbowing his way through his colleagues. You had forgotten how busy Friday nights could get.
Laughter rang through the bar and you turned to see Garcia a tiny and very colourful cocktail umbrella at Rossi.
“Hi,” someone said beside you and you turned back, “I’m Matt.”
It was the man beside you.
“Hello,” you gave him a tight-lipped smile, making sure you weren’t standing too close to him. This man seemed like the type who easily got ideas. Where was that bartender with your drink?
Someone bumped into you from behind and you hated the way your arm accidentally brushed his. Matt clearly took that as a good sign, angling his entire body towards yours.
He smirked, his eyes wandering down your form and you frowned, resisting the urge to pull down the hem of your dress, “Don’t you want to introduce yourself?”
“No thank you,” you declined politely, giving the bartender a bright smile when he (finally!) set down your glass in front of you. You took it, happy to finally get back to your team – and Hotch, a small voice provided in the back of your mind.
You hardly spared the man a glance as you turned to make your way back to them, “Excuse me.”
A hand wrapped around your wrist and stopped you in your step. Your heart froze in fright for only a second before rage took its place. “Why, uh, why don’t you stay?” he asked, sweat beading on his forehead, “We could get to know each other.”
“I’m not interested,” you bit out. Your jaw tensed when he did not let go of you and you got ready to rip your hand out of his. Who did he think he was? How did he think this was okay? Or how this would play out? Did he truly think this would work? On anyone?
“C’mon,” he almost whined and you sneered. In the background, you spotted your bartender perking up, already spotting the situation and it gave you the tiny bit of courage you needed to get into action.
You twisted your hand, freeing yourself from him and almost stumbled back when he took a step towards you. If it hadn’t been for the body behind you.
“I believe she said no,” a familiar voice growled next to you and you relaxed. A warm hand appeared on your lower back and you looked back to find none other than Aaron Hotchner next to you. There was a furrow between his brows and he looked positively menacing. Gone was the happy Hotch from just a few moments ago. He looked like he had an Unsub in front of him and when you found your footing, he still did not cease touching you.
Matt did not say anything. He only visibly paled and backed away, leaving his seat without a word and of course it would take a man for him to accept your refusal. You huffed.
“You okay?” Hotch asked, his hand still warm on your back and your heart skipped a beat at how close he was. And he was touching you, his large fingers spanning over your lower back.
“Yeah, uh, thank you,” you replied, still a little stunned at how serious he was being, “He was just an ass.”
He nodded curtly, his lips tight, and his hand put slight pressure on your back, guiding you back to the team without another word. You did not say anything, too distracted by the fact that he did not take his hand from your back but rather stayed close to you even when the masses of people cleared a little.
He probably just saw you as a lost child, you tried to argue with yourself, he just wanted to make sure you’d be back with the group. There was no personal reason for him to touch you at all. But your heart still skipped a beat when his fingers drifted down your back when you arrived at the table. How his body was so warm, so close, right behind yours.
“There she is!” Morgan called, clearly already subjected to Emily’s plan of drinking the night away. You raised your glass as evidence, smiling at the round before slipping into the booth again. It did not escape you that Hotch sat down next to you, the whole length of his thigh pressed against yours and goosebumps erupted all over your skin. But you did not move away.
There was heat in your cheeks and you shifted in your seat, subtly trying to take a deep breath. After all, the bar was quite crowded and it was warm.
Anyone would feel a little out of breath, right?
Right?
“How long do you think they’ll be able to keep up?” Hotch asked you quietly and you tried not to let your shock show that he was initiating a conversation with you of all people.
“Who?” you asked, “Emily? I think she’ll be the first one to go home tonight. Or should be at least.”
“I meant Garcia and Morgan,” he replied calmly and you dared a glance at him. His lips formed a small smile and his eyes were warm as he looked at you, “Although you’re right, I don’t think Emily will manage to keep on pretending to be sober for much longer.”
“Was she ever good at pretending that?” you joked quietly, “I heard Rossi is the one representing the BAU at galas for a reason.”
“More because he’s the one that does not drink the unsuspecting guests under the table,” Hotch revealed, taking a sip of his almost empty glass. You pretended not to watch the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed.
“What about you, sir?” you heard yourself asking, whispering almost, to get him to lean closer. It was like you were having your own private conversation, blending out all the other patrons and even the rest of the BAU. “Is the unit chief someone who drinks people under the table?”
He tilted his head, indulging you, and you imagined seeing his hand twitch again, his pinkie finger dangerously close to your thigh. “I might have had one or two adventurous nights in my time.”
“One or two?” you raised your brows, the drink making you feel that much more confident, “Even I had more adventures than that.”
“Really?” he asked, his voice deep and teasing and you clenched your thighs.
You grinned, tracing the rim of your glass with your finger, “I might just surprise you, Aaron Hotchner.”
“Another round!” Garcia decided between giggles and you raised your empty glass.
Another round sounded like the perfect idea.
*
“Knock knock,” you sat up in bed, eyes wide open.
Josh stood at the door, seemingly very amused. “I’m off to work,” he announced, “And I thought you might appreciate a wake-up call since your alarm didn’t seem to survive the fifth snooze.”
“Yes,” you mumbled absentmindedly, “Thank you.”
You felt the tiredness deep in your bones and you hated it. There was nothing you wanted more than to turn around and close your eyes and sleep for another four hours. But Josh had done you a favour by waking you up. It was the first free weekend you had had in a long time and even with a hangover, you wanted to get some things done.
Like perhaps making breakfast. Your stomach churned and your grimaced, deciding to postpone breakfast for the time being. But it was definitely time for a shower. And maybe then breakfast.
Heaving yourself out of your bed, relief filled you. Relief over the weekend filled you an
“Tarmac in 30, we have a new case,” JJ announced quietly. You wondered how could seem this awake and put together at the same time, considering she had still been there when you had tapped out.
“Already?” you asked, your voice dangerously close to a whine as you threw a look at the dirty laundry in your go-bag. This would be a menace to pack.
“I mean I knew it was possible I just never thought …”
“That it would ruin your weekend plans?” JJ offered, “Welcome to the BAU and Hotch’s good graces.”
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behindyourbarrette · 3 years
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Star Light, Star Bright
summary: The team goes camping on a long weekend. Turns out, it’s really easy to tell someone how you feel when you’re under a starry night sky. 
pairing: spencer reid/reader
category: fluff, start to finish
warnings/includes: mention of food, a mild burn
work count: 4.1k
a/n: this is my fav thing i’ve written in a HOT SECOND. enjoy! pls reblog if you feel inclined, it helps me out a ton!
check it out on ao3
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You’ve never found chicken pox to be more of a miracle.
In truth, you are a little saddened that Jack’s Boy Scout troop all got sick and their camping trip had to be postponed. This does not change the fact that you’re elated at the opportunity to nab Hotch’s campsite reservation. The team jumped at the chance for a vacation, the promised long weekend only truly promised in places without cell service.
You pick Spencer up early, the first of many people you’ve offered to drive out to the mountains. After tossing a very heavy-sounding duffel bag into your trunk, he clambers into the passenger seat. He strikes you as a little nervous—he won’t quite look at you as you wind your way out of D.C and towards the countryside.
“I’ve never been camping before, actually.” He says it quietly, mid-conversation about Boy Scouts and the safety of camping with children. There’s a 5-mile radius around Quantico where work is the only thing you can really think about. As you turn onto the highway, hands flexing against the wheel, you’re glad to be free of the office.
“Really? Never?”
It makes sense, the longer his sentence sits on your tongue. Vegas isn’t the most hospitable environment to camp in. You make a mental note to thank your parents for raising you on the East Coast, where the forests are frequent and the soil is actually fertile.
“Yeah. I’m not sure, I’m, uh, really suited for it.” You look at him now, the slight sadness in his eyes, and there are a thousand things you’d like to say. Instead, you reach across the center console, squeezing his hand in yours. Before he can say anything, you’ve returned your hand to the wheel, eyes fixed on the horizon. 
---
You’ve lived in Virginia for a few years, but somehow you’ve never found it this breathtaking. You have no idea how you got roped into driving, given that Derek and Emily usually take the wheel, but you’re far from complaining. As you wind through the forest, the canopy of leaves casting a filter of sunshine over the ground, you’re left speechless. The trees part in favor of the dirt road, and you find yourself absorbed in the surplus of green and foliage as you drive.
“There’s over 15,000 acres of this. It’s the largest protected land preserve in the tri-state area.”
You turn your head to watch Spencer murmur, still absorbed in a book. For the first time, you notice that he’s wearing a polo shirt and a beanie that Penelope knit him for Christmas. The whole sight is so...un-Spencer like that you’re torn between finding it endearing and concerning. You gulp down everything you want to tell him, swallowing all of the unidentifiable feelings in your throat.
“I’m excited. I love camping. My dad used to take me here all the time.” He perks up at this, and closes his book. You nod, pursing your lips into a smile. You steal a quick glance at the backseat, where Penelope and Derek have fallen asleep.
“Can you keep a secret?”
You have Spencer’s attention now. He nods so vehemently you laugh, tearing your eyes away from his in favor of focusing on the road.
“I wanted to be a park ranger when I was younger.” You’re only a little embarrassed of this; the jump from environmentalist to federal agent is just laughable enough to warm your cheeks. Spencer’s eyes widen.
“Really? How did you—I mean, when did you decide to be a—actually, I take it back. Hugging trees is beneficial for your health, after all.” He smirks, and you reach out to punch him on the arm. He rubs the spot absently, a grin forming on his face as your blush deepens. You try to portray yourself to the team as someone who’s a little tougher than the little girl who cried when she found out that people litter in National Parks. With Spencer, it’s different. Still, you can’t bank on what he will or won’t tell Derek.
“If you tell anyone, I will kick your ass. Forget it.” You get the sense that you are not going to live this down. To your advantage, it’s Spencer who blushes this time, his cheeks warming a delicate pink.
“I can’t forget it, actually. I have an eidetic—ow!”
---
The campsite is glorious.
Or, as Penelope would put it, rustic. It’s the perfect happy medium between the forest and the lake nearby, with a trail leading to the beach just a few feet from the site. The trees filter out just enough sun so that it’s pleasantly warm out. There’s ample space for a few tents, and a bear locker. You’re seated at a picnic bench with the girls, unloading the food and cooking supplies as the boys attempt to put together tents. From what you can see and hear, it sounds like Derek is muscling his way through it, much to Spencer and Hotch’s chagrin.
“You’re glowing. What’s got you in such a good mood?” Emily nudges you in the side, a sly smile on her face as she screws the propane line into the campstove. You flush, and shrug your shoulders.
“I love camping. I’m just excited to be here with you guys.”
Penelope reaches across the table to hug you. She’s dressed perfectly for the occasion: you don’t think you’ve ever seen bedazzled hiking boots before, but there’s a first time for everything.
“You know, I’m surprised Spence came. He normally skips out on these kinds of things.” JJ looks back at you from the bear locker, where she’s stacking cans of soup and Hotch’s cooler. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment, but you look towards Spencer before she can say anything else. He’s managing to put up his tent surprisingly well; he’s only struggling with the final few posts as he stumbles around the uneven ground. You turn back to JJ, shrugging.
“I mean, I think he can appreciate the outdoors. He’s probably read Walden.”
Emily laughs, and you feel as though the conversation has finally let up. JJ has a point, but as soon as you had asked Spencer if he was coming, he had agreed. He doesn’t look particularly out of place, either. Over the course of the past hour, he’s somehow inherited a pair of sunglasses and a red flannel. You look away, pursing your lips.
“Okay, I think we’re done.” Derek calls, waving his arm to catch your attention. There are now five small tents, only a little crinkled and trampled over. Emily nods in approval, nudging one of them with the tip of her boot. It only shakes a little.
“Good job, guys. They look...structurally sound.” Hands on your hips, you bend to inspect the guys’ handiwork. Spencer winces as you tug on a tent’s zipper, and it whines in protest. You shrug, smiling as you straighten.
“We should check out the lake.” Derek gestures to the blue expanse of water in the distance, and Penelope squeals. You hear the sound of metal clinking together, and turn.
It’s Hotch, holding what you assume to be a fishing pole. While this should be very surprising, you can’t come up with anything funny to say. Emily makes a joke about the catch of the day, and Hotch doesn’t laugh.
“Are there canoes involved? I didn’t bring a suit.” JJ asks, arms crossed over her chest. You nod, pointing to the rental shack on the eastern side of the lake.
“You guys ready to get some sun?”
---
“You look cute in hiking boots, princess.” You should not find this as funny as you do. Maybe it’s the fact that Derek definitely had Penelope apply some sort of oil to his biceps while they were in a tent; there’s no way that he just naturally glistens like that. You squint up at him, shrugging your shoulders. While your outfit is a little unorthodox—you remembered to bring a bikini, but forgot water shoes—it’ll work just fine. Spencer enters your peripheral vision, wrinkling his nose in Derek’s direction. You resist the urge to smile at this.
“Spence.”
You get his attention, catching up to him in just a few steps. The beach is pretty, lacking in sand but perfectly cool and sunny. He’s wearing too-big sunglasses and, surprisingly, Bermuda shorts. You trudge along the rocky path, handing him a bottle of sunscreen.
“Come on, I need your help. Sunscreen me.”
He seems shocked, fiddling with the bottle. You turn your back to him, raising your arms as you walk backwards, waiting to hit him before you stop.
“Is sunscreen a verb?” His voice is a little hoarse, and you smirk.
“Would you prefer lotion? Massage?” You tease, and you can practically feel him tense up.
“N-no, I wouldn’t. Hold your hair up.”
You oblige, and it takes everything in you not to sigh as he rubs the cool sunscreen into your back. He has really, really big hands and nimble fingers. Biting your lip, you conjure a mental image of them. You feel a little silly for imagining his hands when he’s right there, but you don’t want him to stop touching you. He coats your skin, movements deft and purposeful. You turn, reaching for the bottle.
“Take off your glasses. Your turn.” You like being a little bossy; he flushes as you reach up to spread the lotion across his cheeks, dabbing gently. He exhales slowly, relaxing into your touch.
“Let’s go. You’re my canoe buddy.”
His mouth falls open in surprise, and an evil part of your brain wonders how it would feel to kiss it. The thought is gone before you can act on it, though, and you wave him towards the shore. He stands still, lingering by the campsite.
“I was going to read on the beach, actually—”
“Nope. Come on! I need a partner.”
—-
The lake is cool, and you make yourself busy by being a very unhelpful canoeing partner. Spencer is rowing surprisingly well, scooping water from below and propelling the boat forward. You, on the other hand, are focused on stretching out in the boat. The sun is deliciously warm on your skin, and the occasional splash of water is heaven to the touch.
“You know, there are two sets of oars. We’d get the most momentum if you rowed, too.”
“Okay, fine, I’ll row. I’m not any good at it, though. That’s why I needed a partner.” You pat him on the shoulder affectionately, reaching for the other oar. The motion tips the canoe forward a little, and panic flashes across Spencer’s face.
“Don’t do that again. I do not want to end up in this lake. Do you know how many bacteria are in most man made lakes? You don’t want to know.”
You are many things, but you are not a quitter. Testing the waters, you lean forward again as you row, a little out of sync with Spencer’s strokes.
“Please don’t capsize,”
Hotch calls out from the shore, and Spencer shoots you a look as if to say listen. You shrug, continuing to row and occasionally shifting your weight. The look on his face is worth it.
“You know how to swim, right?”
You ask, voice low and as inconspicuous as you can manage. This backfires—Spencer turns around to shake his head, unbalancing the boat. He lets go of his oar, tightening the strap on his life vest. You cling to the sides, laughing as you try to steady the canoe.
“Not funny. You know, boating related accidents are incredibly common.”
His voice drifts off as Derek and Emily’s boat passes by. Their sportsmanship is admirable; they’re working as a perfect unit, quickly propelling their canoe forward with quick rowing and a lot of effort.
Spencer is scolding you half-heartedly when you get caught in their wake. You couldn’t have steadied the boat if you tried; and before you can react the canoe is upside down and you’re cast into the cool blue.
“I’m going to contract a brain-eating amoeba.”
Spencer coughs, bobbing to the surface. You emerge a few moments later, laughing, and reach for him.
“Worth it. You have plenty of brains to be eaten, genius.”
You watch him try to contain his smile the entire way to the shore.
---
You’re drying off as the sun sets, splashes of pink and purple coating the sky. It’s incredible; over the lake you can see the entire expanse of fields and forest, laid out like a painting.
“You guys brought food, right?”
Emily calls out from the picnic bench. She’s toweling off, sunglasses in her hair as she jokes with Morgan. You nod, turning back to Spencer.
He’s thoroughly drenched. You feel a little guilty for tipping the boat over; he’s spent a decent amount of time wringing out his clothes, and as night falls a chill builds in the air. After pulling a jacket on, you toss him a towel.
“That was fun.”
Your eyes widen a little, genuine surprise lodging itself in your throat. He takes in the look on your face, smiling lightly.
“Better than reading on the beach?” You offer, but this is too good to be true.
“Marginally.”
You frown, suppressing a smirk as you catch the scent of propane drifting through the air. You both head in the direction of the camp stove, where Hotch is fiddling with the gas tank.
“That looks...unsafe.” Spencer mutters, brow furrowed.
Hotch shoots him a look, and you both back off in favor of finding Morgan and Garcia, who are attempting to start a bonfire.
You don’t expect this to happen.
Spencer is arguably your best friend. He’s been there for you through thick and thin. For better or for worse, you’ve had each other. This trip was supposed to be unifying, and a small part of you had even hoped that maybe, just maybe, it’d give you the bravery to say what you’ve been thinking for a while.
“I cannot believe you intentionally burn your marshmallows.”
Spencer is looking at you like you’ve committed a crime; you are very familiar with this expression, but being on the receiving end of it is new. Thankfully, you’re ready to defend your stance to near-death. A somewhat maniacal grin on your face, you stab another marshmallow onto a skewer and shove it directly into the fire.
“I’m with Pretty Boy on this one. That’s just cruel. It doesn’t even heat it all the way through.” You scowl in Derek’s direction, turning back to your now on-fire marshmallow. You pull it out of the flame, watching it sear as the group murmurs in distaste. It only took three hours to start a fire, and by that time Emily had managed to heat a can of soup on the campstove. Spirits were relatively high, all things considered.
You watch in wonder as the marshmallow curves, melting just how you like it. Before you can stop it, it falls straight down onto your leg.
“Shit. That’s like, on fire.”
You say, your voice rising in pitch and volume as it becomes increasingly clear that not only is the marshmallow very, very hot but it is not coming off. The group springs into unsure action, voices loud and panicked as you push away from both your chair and the fire. The physics of melting sugar be damned, Derek manages to scrape it off with his skewer, and you’re left with a very attractive hole in your pants and a patch of tender skin.
“How do you love camping?” JJ asks, eyes wide as she watches you brush yourself off. Stabbing another marshmallow onto your skewer, you shrug.
“It’s all part of the fun.”
This time, you don’t set your marshmallow on fire. You mimic Spencer, who is carefully rotating his marshmallow. There has to be a system for what he’s doing; he’s laser-focused on the fire, his entire face lit up by the flickering red and orange light. You lean in, and before long you fall into a rhythm of roasting a marshmallow to golden-brown perfection, then pressing it into a graham cracker. Emily is incredible at assembling s’mores, and by time the fire is just a few crackling embers everyone has a little chocolate smeared over their faces.
“I’m really glad we did this.” JJ’s voice is just above a whisper. She’s leaning against Emily, the two of them sharing a blanket as the fire slowly fades. Hotch nods sagely, a rare smile on his face.
“It’s nice. A break. Some fresh air. Trees.” You gesture to the forest around you, unable to contain a sheepish grin. When you look to your right, Spencer’s smiling too. Penelope squeezes your hand. As you watch the last log burn into ash, you wonder how you got so lucky.
---
Later, everyone is too tired to stargaze.
This fact wounds you deeply. Stargazing is your favorite part of camping; there is absolutely nothing that parallels the experience of driving away from the city and looking up into the constellations. To your dismay, everyone is in their tents by the time it’s dark enough to see the winks of light overhead.
You begrudgingly get ready for bed; stepping around the campsite, it’s clear to see that everyone has mostly turned in for the night. Derek and Penelope’s tent is dark. Emily, Hotch, and JJ are all snoring at varying volumes. Spencer’s light is on; you can see his shadow, leaning over to peer at a book. You brush your teeth, swatting bugs away as you stumble towards your tent.
You manage to spend thirty minutes in your tent before you lose your patience. This entire camping trip has been a dream; no work, no cell service, and the people you care about. You’ll be damned if you let it pass you by without checking absolutely everything off your list. You step, a little wobbly, towards the front of your tent. You tug the zipper open, trying to stay as quiet as possible.
On shaking legs, you tug your hiking boots on, the evening cold nipping at your ankles. Despite your attempts to lessen the noise, you watch Spencer’s shadow waver.
“Spence!” You stage-whisper, praying to every deity you can think of that he’s awake and the rest of the team isn’t. To your immediate relief, you watch him tug the zipper of his tent down and emerge, swatting at a few lingering mosquitoes. He looks a little cold; his cheeks are pink and he’s rubbing at his arms. The sight of him in a hoodie and flannel pajama pants is more endearing than you’d expect, and you exhale to clear your head.
“What’s going on?”
He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and you point to the sky. He takes a cursory glance up, and you watch his jaw fall slack as he takes in the starry skies.
“Come on. We can see better from over there.”
You wave him towards the beach. You know exactly where you’re headed; while you’ve never camped in this specific spot, you know how to reach your favorite place to stargaze. Spencer looks at you with something between curiosity and admiration as you lead the way with a flashlight. The forest is still awake and responsive at this hour, crickets chirping and leaves rustling as you step through the greenery.
You find it quickly; the boardwalk is unmistakable. It’s a field, like the ones you’ve been surrounded by all day. Spencer identifies the leaves as rhubarb plants as you step onto the wooden pathway. While any field would work, this one is ideal; the sky opens up as far as the eye can see, the trees parting to admire the world above.
“Here.” You turn off your flashlight, allowing your eyes to adjust to the low, blue moonlight. Spencer follows you as you crouch, laying with your back to the boardwalk. This is what you came for.
“Oh my God.” Your face splits into a grin once you hear Spencer’s voice, low and gravelly against your ear. The sky above is endless; all you can see is the expanse of the stratosphere, stars bright and darkness vast over your heads. You tear up a little; you always do. It feels like the universe is leaning down to meet you in the middle, pressing its face to yours.
“Tell me what you see. I know that you know what we’re looking at.”
You scoot a little closer, trying to absorb a little of his warmth. Eyes still fixed on the sky, Spencer begins.
“There’s so little light pollution. I...I’ve never seen this many stars at once.” His eyes narrow a little, and you watch as he absorbs the world above him.
“That’s Orion.” He points to a collection of stars to your left, a few brighter than the others.
“Those three in a row, that’s his belt. You might be able to see his bow, too, to the right.
The brightest one is six hundred and forty light years away. Betelgeuse.” His voice has dropped to a whisper, and you follow his every word. You can see the warrior above you, the stars winking at you as Spencer describes them.
You fall quiet after a few minutes, and the only sound is that of your slow, synced breaths. You feel as though Spencer has peeled the sky open and revealed it to you; with him, you can see another world entirely.
“We’re looking into the past right now.”
You turn to look at him, a laugh ready to bubble past your lips. You look back up at the sky, where he’s pointed to the Big Dipper.
“That’s Dubhe. We’re seeing light from before we were born.”
You nod, a tear sliding down your cheek and cooling before it reaches your nose. There is so much you would like to tell him before you are both light, visible in this moment from somewhere far away.
As you stare up into the starscape, you gasp. There’s a shooting star, dragging across the Pleiades and heading towards the western skies.
“Make a wish,” You breathe. Before you lose your nerve, you reach out to Spencer, lacing your fingers together. Turning your head, you watch as he grins up at the sky. His features are softer when drenched in moonlight; the slope of his nose, the arch of his cheekbones, the line of his jaw all bathed in a dreamy quality.
After the shooting star winks out, trailing across the dark and blinking into nothing, the silence feels heavier.
“What did you wish for?”
You’re sure that he can hear your heartbeat. The steady thrum of your heart against your ribcage is a drum, urging you forward. You watch his brow knit in consideration, before his gaze finally meets yours. His eyes are more hazel than you’ve ever noticed, each fleck of gold striking you as a star.
“If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
His voice is soft, laced with something solemn beneath the surface. You nod, stealing a glance at the sky before you swallow your fear.
"I wished for you." You say quietly.
You don’t know who moves first, only that there’s a brief shuffle before you’re holding each other. He reaches to cradle your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before finally reaching your lips. Your hands ghost over his jaw, trailing down his neck as he laces his fingers into your hair. You can’t quite breathe, nor think, only repeat a simple refrain over and over, a prayer passing over your lips and into the dark.
Spencer.
---
The sun rises lazily, pink and orange brushstrokes against a blue sky. You’re awake early—to put it lightly, Spencer’s tent is cramped—and it feels good to breathe in the morning air. The team is still asleep, a few yards away as you stretch and take in the cool dawn.
You think maybe, this is all a dream. You’re not sure how else this would exist, so perfectly and wholly true. The universe is a benevolent thing, after all. There is no other explanation for Spencer Reid, the man the world got right.
“You have pancake batter in your hair,” You say, a little mournfully but still laughing. Still layered in jackets and hats, you feel as though you’re being warmed from the inside out. Spencer’s eyes widen, and he reaches up with a batter-covered hand to feel his hair. You laugh again, a little too loudly this time, and he shushes you between chuckles.
The campstove is quiet, the gas running blue as Spencer flips a pancake over. You neglected to tell him that folding the pancake mix in slowly would prevent...explosions. If you had warned him, you wouldn’t have the chance to kiss the flour off of his face, smiling against his cheeks. With a mittened hand, you brush the powder off of his eyelashes.
“Chocolate chips, right?”
You smile, nodding. He remembers how you like your pancakes. Turning away from him, you rifle through a storage bin for something you packed.
“Are you looking for syrup? It’s over here.” He calls, his voice soft against the hushed sounds of morning. The birds have begun to chirp, calling to each other in alternating duets. You shake your head, and present him with a contraption.
His eyes light up, and he looks at you with something a little wild and entirely resembling devotion. You reveal with your other hand a bag of coffee grounds from the coffee shop near your house, grinning up at him.
“I can’t believe you brought me a French press.”
You grin, turning your face as your cheeks burn. Maybe you had hoped this would happen, in slightly different words. After you both tuck into your pancakes, leaning over a plate on the same side of a picnic bench, you watch the sunrise. A bundle of puffy jackets and intertwined hands, you press your back into Spencer’s embrace.
As you watch the moon recede into the horizon, you hope that your past is standing hand and hand, gazing at you fondly.
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cacoetheswriting · 4 years
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little mystery
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: tattoos, alcohol consumption, gambling/betting money, mild swearing (i actually don't think there is any but just in case), baby spence!!, no smut/or implied smut but it reads a little dirty (so i’m gonna rate this 18+ anyway) Word Count: 1.8k Summary: Bets are placed to see who can be the first to figure out the secret location of your tattoo, and what the tattoo is.
A/N: i was browsing pinterest for my next ink inspiration (the whole country is currently in lockdown, but a girl can dream), when i stumbled across a particular tattoo, featured in this fic, and this idea just came to me ah i hope you ENJOY!
 -
“A recent study concluded that people with tattoos are more likely to be so called experience seekers, and they tend to lean more towards rebellious, non-conforming lifestyles.” Spencer stated glancing between the group. His eyes lingering a little longer on you. “Research also shows, people who choose to get tattooed feel a stronger need to claim their identity and stand out from the crowd.”
Derek chuckled while taking a sip of his drink. “Kid, not everyone that has a tattoo is an attention seeker or a criminal. Many who get inked lead perfectly normal and stable lives.”
“It’s a form of self expression.” Morgan continued. “It doesn't necessarily mean people with multiple tattoos are wildings. I mean look at Y/N, she’s got like ten and she's far from a non-conformist.”
All heads turned in your direction.
“Ten is an over exaggeration Morgan.” You replied with a light giggle before looking directly at Spencer. “It’s eight. I have eight tattoos.” You said shooting him a smile. A mix of intrigue quickly spread across his features.
Of course, he was aware you had a couple of tattoos. Like the tiny heart on your left index finger. The crescent moon just above your right elbow. Or the rose on the inside of your left bicep. Given that the two of you were similar in age, the young doctor didn't think you would have that many.
Derek rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s a huge difference.” He teased, granting Penelope to nudge him in the arm. The bubble blonde then turned to you. “You have eight tattoos?” She asked with a raised brow. “How come I didn't know this about you? I know everything.”
“Because you never asked me and eight really isn't that much. Plus they’re all pretty simple and dainty. Well... actually... all apart from the snake slithering between my boobs.” You responded nonchalantly causing the males at the table to simultaneously choke on their drinks.
The girls all whistled before erupting into laughter at the suddenly red faces of the three boys. Hotch stared silently at the half-empty class in his hands, Derek nervously cleared his throat, while Spencer gaped at you completely wide-eyed.
The image you just painted circulating in his mind.
“Don’t be shy, tell us, any other risqué body art?” Emily chimed once the laughter died down.
“Uhm, there is one but I really don't think it’s appropriate to share.” You answered, a sly smile circling your lips. JJ and Emily both groaned at your response. “Now you have too!” The blonde exclaimed, but you just shook your head.
“Only a handful of people know what it is, and where it is.” Your eyes locked briefly with the brunette doctor sat across from you. Not enough time for anyone at the table to notice, but enough to get him a tiny bit flustered.
“What if we guessed?” Emily enquired, her eyes sparkling mischievously. You giggled. “If one of you manages to guess both what and where it is, I will tell you whether you’re correct.”
“I want in on this little bet.” Derek chimed confidently. “I can get you talkin’ hot stuff.” He shot you a playful wink and took another sip of his drink. Hotch snickered next to him. “I wouldn't be so certain Morgan.” “Oh, and you think you can?” Derek asked sarcastically. “Maybe.” Hotch poised, shrugging his shoulders.
“Right.” JJ clapped her hands. “Let’s make this interesting. Everyone that wants to take part place a ten dollar bet on themselves, and the winner will take the pot.” She turned to you. “We’ll give you the money for safekeeping and once one of us guesses correctly, you can rightfully pass the cash onto that person.”
“Sounds good to me.” You replied with a grin. “But what if none of you guess? Who keeps the money then?” “Do you forget who you work with? We’re FBI agents, profilers, one of us is bound to figure it out.” Morgan stated making you giggle.
“Okay, if you say so.”
“Oh! And whoever wins gets to see this mysterious ink of yours.” Emily added teasingly.
Just like that a pile of cash formed in the middle of the table. You reached out to grab it when a hand slowly slid across with a neatly folded ten dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes snapped up to meet the determined gaze of none other than the resident genius.
“I want to take part too.” He said, trying his best not to appear jittery. The grin currently embellishing your features swelled, and Spencer took note of the devilish sparkle in your eyes. “Well all right.” You responded, fingers brushing lightly against his as you retrieved the money. An instant spark tingled through both you and Spencer.
The night carried on. You were bombarded with questions that would give the team any sort of clue as to what the tattoo could be, but you didn't budge. It was a lot more fun seeing your friends struggle. The only person that didn't say anything further on the matter was the young doctor sat across from you. In true Spencer Reid fashion, he simply listened and observed.
About an hour later, he accompanied you to the bar for another round of drinks. After ordering for everyone, you quickly glanced at him. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours?” You asked causing him to break away from his thoughts and turn his attention to you. He lightly scrunched his nose.
“I’m just wondering when is the most appropriate time to tell everyone what your secret tattoo is.”
Your mouth parted ever in shock, eyes widened. “There is no way you know.”
“Actually, I not only know what and where it is. I also know when you got it and why.” He stated confidently.
“Alright then, tell me.” You challenged taking a step towards him. Spencer stiffened for a brief moment. Your sudden closeness caused the heat to rush to his face and his heart to skip a beat. All he could do was hope you didn't notice; which of course you did.
With a raised brow and your fingers tapping lightly on the wooden bar, you waited for Spencer to respond. You were about to say something like, ‘See, I knew you were bluffing.’, but he cleared his throat. Regaining his confidence.
“It’s the word ‘bite’ written in cursive on your ehm, on your left b-buttcheek. And you got it your freshmen year of university as a result of a drunken game of truth or dare with your friends. I believe it was either getting the tattoo or shaving your head.” He was, of course, correct. Every word.
You stared at him in disbelief. This you definitely did not expect. Spencer on the other hand seemed quite pleased with himself. It’s not often he’s the one to rattle you.
“H-how, how did you-” You shook your head. “You know what, never mind. I don’t want to know.” Your lips twirled into a smile. “Congratulations doctor.” Without really thinking, you leaned in closer and placed a soft kiss on his cheek causing once again for the blood to rush to his face. Once you pulled away, his hand immediately travelled to the spot.
“What, uhm, what was that for?” He asked and you shrugged. “An extra prize considering it didn't even take you ninety minutes to win. I hope that was okay?” He quickly nodded his head. “Ye-a, yes.” “Good.” And with that you kissed his cheek again.
He couldn't help but grin proudly as the two of you ambled back to the table, each holding a tray of drinks.
“What’s got you so happy, kid?” Morgan asked, drawing attention to Spencer’s expression.
“Spencer just won your little bet.” You replied, placing the tray down and reaching into your purse for the money. Although his win was definitely part of the reason for his increased good mood, it had more to do with the spot on his cheek that was still tingling from your kiss. But he’d never say that out loud.
Gasps of shock echoed through the team. “What?! There is no way he’s won already!” JJ exclaimed. “He cheated. Did you give him extra hints because you have a soft spot for him?” Emily accused, narrowing her eyes.
“Nope.” Your mouth popped. “He definitely won fair and square.” You stated before shifting your body weight to look the young doctor. Smiling, you handed him his winnings. He didn't hesitate to take them, eyes never leaving yours.
“Well pretty boy, what is it?!” Derek enquired eagerly. Spencer waited for you to nod your head before turning to address the team. He revealed the design and location of your secret tattoo in one breath as you watched, finding their reactions amusing.
“How did you figure that out?” Penelope asked.
“A little mystery never hurt.” You chimed before Spencer got a chance to respond, and proceeded to intertwine your fingers with his. His head snapped first down at your glued hands, and then up at your face. He wanted to ask what was happening, completely forgetting what else the winning prize entailed, as you were leading him away from the table.
Morgan and Emily whistled after the two of you, the rest of the group laughing.
It wasn't until you were walking into the bathroom, locking the door behind, that the realisation hit Spencer. He swallowed his breath and opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.
You quickly noticed the nervous look on his face. “We don't have to do this if you don't want to. If you’re uncomfortable.” You said in your usual kind and caring tone.
“No, uhm, it’s okay. B-but if you don't want to?” He mumbled. “I don’t have to see it if you don’t want to show me, or anyone for that matter. We can just pretend.”
You smiled at him, your hands travelling to the zipper of your jeans. “A bet’s a bet, and like I said, you won fair and square.”
“Y-you, are you sure you don't want to know how I figured it out?” Spencer asked, voice breaking. The palms of his hands began to sweat. He wasn't sure where to look. Did you want him looking directly at you? Or was he supposed to keep his attention on something else until you were ready to show the tattoo?
“A little mystery never hurt.” You repeated what you said earlier to the group and pulled your pants down, just low enough to display the tattoo in question.
Spencer’s gaze landed on the writing. At this point his heart was hammering inside of his chest, and he was sure it would explode any second. His eyes widened as he slowly licked his lips. He was sure this was the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
“Do you like it?” A seemingly innocent question, although the intention behind it was anything but.
Spencer nodded his head. “I-I...y-es, I do.” His eyes gradually moved up your body until they once again locked with your gaze. His pupils now flared.
A mischievous smirk escaped your mouth. “I always knew you had a naughty side, doctor.”
-
spencer reid taglist: spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​, @averyhotchner
masterlist
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letarasstuff · 3 years
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Can I stay with you?
(A/N): This is based on this, this and this post. I really hope you are ready for the feels, because they are there and they are heavy-
Summary: Following the events of Emily's death, how will Spencer and his daughter cope with it?
Warnings: Angst and lots of it, mentions of drug use, contemplations of drug use, mentions of needles, we also got some bittersweet fluff
Wordcount: 2.5k
✨Masterlist✨ _______________________________
A hospital is not a place where a child should be, Spencer knows that much. But he picked (Y/N) up on his way for two reasons:
The first one being the simple occurence that the babysitter is not able to keep her any longer, because she has classes in the next morning. The second one is selfish and the father knows that, but he needs her presence, the comfort she brings to him.
“Daddy”, the child breaks the silence in the waiting room, “Is Auntie Emily going to be ok?” She sits in his lap reading a book before looking up at him. Her eyes hold something he wishes to never see again: Fear. The fear of losing someone she loves dearly.
“I hope, Baby. But let’s not forget one important fact: Your Auntie Emily is one of the strongest women I know.” Spencer gives her a kiss on the top of her head and cuddles her closer to him, seeing (Y/N)’s eyes dropping. The rest of the team watches the interaction with aching hearts.
The girl is asleep for half an hour when JJ enters the room. Everybody gets up crowding her. Spencer is careful to not disturb his daughter as he moves her head to his shoulder and hooks his arm under her legs.
“She never made it off the table.” These words echo in the genius’ mind, seemingly being the only things he can think about. “I-I never had the chance to say goodbye.” JJ hugs him, trying to give some sort of comfort. In this process (Y/N) wakes up. As soon as she spots her father’s tears, she knows not to ask a question. Instead she loops her arms around his neck.
“It’s fine. It’s gonna be alright, Daddy”, the toddler recalls the words he says to her whenever she is upset in hopes to cheer him up.
The next couple days are hard on the whole team. They try to grieve together, especially while the funeral takes place. (Y/N) notices that the color black is fitting, since her Auntie really liked to wear it. She likes that they do the same to pay their respects that way.
“Auntie Penny, is she watching?” The blonde woman carries her while the casket is walked down the aisle. Since her death, (Y/N) doesn’t dare to say Emily’s name. She thinks if she avoids it, she is going to inflict less pain when she is talked about.
“Of course. Emily is in heaven and watches this beautiful beautiful ceremony we hold for her. So wipe that frown off and put on that smile she loved so much. Alright?” Confusing to her, the adults want (Y/N) to smile all the time. But they are frowning and crying more often than not.
“Can she hear us? Because I want to say I love her. I forgot to say it the last time I saw her.” Trying to distract herself from seeing the casket lowering into the grave, the girl plays with Penlope’s hair. She in turn has to fight tears back. Only now she realizes the impact the whole thing has on her.
“I’m sure she does. What about when the majority is gone, we go to her grave and talk to Emily? Do we have a deal?” (Y/N) nods.
As soon as the ceremony is over, Spencer takes his daughter, cradling her close to him. As if she senses his sadness, the girl is petting his back in a comforting way. He squeezes her closer to him, leaving her not much room to breathe.
“Daddy, I wanna talk to her. I need to get down.” (Y/N) wiggles in his grasp after she whispers this into his ear. Reluctantly Spencer lets her down and she toddles over to the freshly made grave. A little plastic card sticks out of the grass in place of a headstone.
The adults try to give her as much space as possible, they have to let grieve on her own.
“Hey, Auntie Emily. I-I wanted to say I love you, and I forgot to tell you this the last time so I say it a second time. I love you. And I miss you. I think Daddy misses you too. He is sad since you are gone. I’m too. I think it’s because we miss you. But I hope you like Heaven. Maybe you see my Mommy. When you do, can you say I love her?
“I’ll try to see you soon, Auntie. Goodbye!” (Y/N) goes back to her father and makes grabby hands towards him. Gladly Spencer picks her up again, putting a kiss on her head. “Wanna go home, Daddy.” The child mumbles, exhausted by all the stress and emotions from the day.
The father is relieved to have an excuse to skip the meal with the team. He is scared that the evening at the little restaurant is clouded by sadness and angst. Spencer doesn’t need that right now, a nice sit in with his daughter sounds way better.
After saying their goodbyes the little family sits in the car on their way to the apartment. As soon as Spencer starts the car, (Y/N) is fast asleep. He looks at her through the rear view mirror, happy to see her at peace. It gives the father time to sort through his own thoughts. Since Emily’s death (Y/N) tries to be around him constantly, which he is thankful for, because she keeps the darkness away.
Her last hours play again and again before his eyes. The different ways he could have stopped all of this. Why didn’t he say more when she began biting her nails? When she said “Laura Reynolds is dead”? Maybe all of this is his fault?
His forearm begins to itch. Exactly where Tobias Hankel injected the needle same as he did several times. Maybe, maybe it would make everything better? Just this one tim-
“Daddy? When are we home?” The small voice cuts off his train of thought. Spencer needs a few seconds to clear his mind. Did he really think that? Taking dilaudid while the reason he fought his addiction literally sits right behind him? “Just a few minutes, Sweetheart. Do you want to go to bed after dinner?”
As if she knows that the father can’t be left alone in this state, (Y/N) answers: “No, I wanna watch a movie with you. Can we watch Alvin and the chipmunks? I love Simon so much!” This places a smile on his face, the excitement in her eyes scare his dark thoughts away. “Sure, Peanut. We can watch whatever you want.”
It's the fourth evening in a row that the girl sleeps in her father’s bed. She either falls asleep there or climbs next to him in the middle of the night, so he figures he lets her sleep there right away.
“Good night, Sweetheart”, he tells her as they lay down. Even though it’s quite early for Spencer to go to bed it’s (Y/N)’s time. “Good night, Daddy”, she tells him while snuggling closer, “I love you. Soooooo much.”
The young doctor decides to take the next few days off from work in order to work through the events. The first one he spends coloring in books with her the whole day. While she works on her own books gifted by various members of the BAU, Spencer has his own extra made for adults. He can’t deny the soothing effect it has on him. The repeating moves calms the storm of thoughts inside his head.
The next day the two of them sit the whole day on the small couch in the living room, (Y/N) on his lap, and read. Sometimes they read for themselves, others the father reads outloud from his own or (Y/N) from her own. It’s kind of therapeutic to hear his child doing something he enjoyed his whole life.
“Daddy, do you think she feels lonely in heaven? There is nobody she knows, she has to wait for us to follow her, doesn’t she?” Not prepared for such a deep question, Spencer is caught off guard.
He clears his throat before answering. “Uh, Auntie Emily isn’t that lonely up there, you know. You can’t remember him, but Uncle Gideon, a friend from work and someone I looked up to, is there. He surely greeted her with open arms, happy to see her. And your Mommy is also there, she certainly asked lots of questions about you.” “A-are you sure? I told her to say Mommy ‘I love you’ when she sees her.” (Y/N) looks up to her father with big eyes.
He is not sure if he is lying right now to her, but he sees that his daughter needs the reassurance. “Yes, I’m sure.” To lighten the mood he begins to tickle her, which ends in a tickle fight which in turn ends in tiring the girl out and falling asleep while watching a Disney movie.
The next day is by far the worst since it all happened. Both (Y/N) and Spencer haven’t slept much due to nightmares from both sides (him comforting her as she tears him from his own), which results in a grumpy toddler and a non stop coffee drinking adult.
“Sweetheart, you need to put that shirt on. Auntie JJ is expecting us in ten minutes. Please, stop fighting me”, he begs, but she continues to cry. As Spencer tries for a third time to put it on her (Y/N) throws herself to the other side of the bed.
“I don’t want that, Daddy!” She finally gets out through her sobs. Spencer halts in his movements. “Why? That’s your favorite, Baby.” While (Y/N) begins to cry louder, he leaves the clothing article on the bed and gathers her in his arm, rocking her back and forth additionally to whispering sweet reassurances in her ear.
“She gave it to me. I don’t wanna make it dirty or ruin it”, the toddler says between shaky breaths. For what feels like the trillionth time, the young agent’s heart breaks over this statement. He has a bigger vocabulary than the average English speaking person, but at this moment Spencer is at a loss of words.
“Sweetheart, I apologize for not acknowledging this right away. I’ll get another shirt out for you, ok? Thank you so much for telling and helping me.” Just a few minutes later the little family is on their way to the next metro stop. It’s then that Spencer realizes his day won’t be any easier.
“(Y/N) you can sit in the seat next to me like you always do. Why do you have to sit in my lap today?” Normally he isn’t someone who denies his child physical contact, but the seating chart has a logical purpose. Being on a train with a child means you have some kind of luggage with you, which leads to occupying a four seats compartment. In order to prevent somebody taking the seat next to him, Spencer places his daughter there. It’s a win win situation for everybody, really.
Unfortunately for him (Y/N) is extra clingy today and won’t stop crawling onto his lap. With a sigh he accepts his defeat and tries not to think about the amount of germs that fly around.
Another problem that torments the father: Over the last few days his cravings grew. Especially today the feeling, the need, for another shot and another high is undeniable for him. As if sensing this (Y/N) sticks by his side throughout the whole time, keeping his mind off of the drug that changes him.
While they are at the Jareau’s and Lamontagne’s household, his daughter refuses to play with Henry. “I wanna stay with you”, she murmurs into his shoulder. Again Spencer accepts his defeat and sits down on the couch next to his best friend.
“Sweetheart, you need to let me go. I have to go to the bathroom, you can’t come with me.” This is followed by a tsunami of tears. While JJ tries to console her, he slips out of the room discreetly.
Due to (Y/N)’s current grumpiness and Spencer’s fatigue they quickly call it a night, even though he could use some more comfort from his friends.
“Good night, Sweetheart. Sleep tight and dream nice. I love you”, he says after tucking his child in and giving her a kiss on the forehead. “Night night, Daddy. I love you, too”, her small voice echoes back to him and makes him smile softly.
Spencer finds his way back to the living room and sits down with a book in his lap. As expected he doesn’t get much reading done, too distracted by his own thoughts. The events of the night of his colleague’s, his friend’s, death replay themselves over and over again.
What if he made his conclusions faster? He is supposed to be the smart one, the one the team relies on for making important connections. But he failed once so who knows what happens when he fails again? Next time it could be the whole team dying. He could die. He would leave (Y/N) alone with the team gone. His mother isn’t capable of caring for her and his father doesn’t even know she exists. She will go into foster care, into a home with too many kids. She will be looked over, too small to be seen. Her potential will go to waste and she will never achieve anything she is capable of. And all that because he hasn’t made a conclusion fast enough.
Spencer’s scars on his forearm itch worse than ever. One shot. Only one shot to make the thoughts go away. To make the guilt go away, the bad feelings. He needs it. He needs to cure himself from the symptoms of being a human.
Before the young doctor even registers what he is doing he already put his jacket on and looks for his wallet when a voice startles him.
“Daddy, i can't sleep. Can I stay with you again?” (Y/N) stands in the doorway, clutching her stuffed animal and her blanket, shielding her eyes from the light, oblivious to what her father was about to do.
“Oh Darling, of course. Do you want me to read to you? Or we drink hot chocolate and watch a movie?” He suggests, ready to distract himself from anything that’s going on in his mind. A few minutes later his daughter cuddles into his side while watching once again Alvin and the Chipmunks.
Spencer is just happy to have his light in his life all the time and is ready to tackle any task to keep her there, may it be once again the weekly visits for anonymous narcotics or time off from work to process the events together in therapy.
Taglist:
All works:
@agentshortstacc
Criminal Minds:
@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl
Spencer Reid x child!reader:
@ilovetaquitosmmmm
376 notes · View notes
I've got you - Derek Morgan x Fem! Reader
A/N: Do you guys like longer stories or should I stick to smaller, one-shot type ones? Let me know:)
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of being attacked
Word Count: 4803
***= time skip
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Being the target of unsub was very different then how I imagined it to be. From what I heard about most BAU cases, I’d probably be kidnapped or lured away by someone who presented themselves in such a way that I trusted them. Then once they had me I’d most likely be brutally tortured, held in a remote location and probably end up dead. But it’s nothing like that. At least not at the moment. It could change, I don’t know. Right now – I’m just waiting.
“Hey you!” Penelope’s cheery voice came through the phone.
“Hey Pen. How are you?” I said chuckling.
“Well thankfully today I don’t have to sift through a hundred different photos of some poor persons mutilated corpse as we have no cases. So right now, I’m pretty much up to nothing. I was sorting through some files, you know just tidying things up, but that got boring.” She explained happily. I could hear her twiddling with her fluffy pen in her hands as she spoke.
“Sounds perfectly uneventful.” I replied.
“It is and I couldn’t be more thankful.” She stated matter of factly.
“So can I do for you my love?” She asked.
“Well, I was just thinking I could swing by the office, maybe we could grab a bite to eat? I’m bored out of my mind.” I said sighing.
“It doesn’t surprise me; I still can’t believe they fired you!” Garcia exclaimed. I just rolled my eyes.
“I know, they literally had CCTV footage of Ryan throwing himself at me, yet they still think I was lying, it’s ridiculous.” I huffed.
“I could always do some digging; I’m sure your boss has some type of dirt on him. You could use it as blackmail to get your job back?” She suggested hopefully. I laughed at her words.
“As someone who works for the FBI I really don’t think you should be encouraging me to blackmail someone Pen. But thanks for the offer, I don’t really want to go back there anyways.” I explained.
“Understandable. But anyway, back to the point, yes we can go for lunch.” She concluded happily.
“Brilliant, I’m on my way I’ll be there in 10.” I hung up the phone and grabbed my stuff. It had been so long since I’d seen Garcia, or any of the BAU lot. Despite us being friends for a while now, our different schedules made it hard to see each other on a frequent basis. I checked how I looked once last time in the mirror before making my way out to my car.
********************************************************************
As I made my way up to the BAU offices, I could feel the nerves growing inside of me. It was stupid to feel this way, these guys were some of my closest friends. But it had been a good few months since I’d last seen them in person. I just really didn’t want things to be awkward.
“Y/N!” I heard a familiar voice call from behind me. I turned to see Emily stood with a huge grin on her face.
“Emily, hi.”
“Oh my god it’s good to see you.” She said pulling me in for a hug.
“It’s good to see you too, I’ve missed you guys.” I replied, a smile spreading its way across my lips.
“What are you doing here?” She asked.
“Oh I’ve come to get Garcia, we’re going out for lunch. You can join if you’re free, she mentioned you didn’t have any cases today.” I explained.
“Yeah lunch would be great. I’ll go find the others they’d love to see you.” Emily replied before darting off to find the others. I could see Aaron sat in his office, looking very intensely at some files. I made my way up the stairs and knocked on his door.
“Come in.”
I poked my head round the door and smiled at him. “Hi”
He looked up, his stern expression quickly replaced with a smile.
“Y/N, hi!” He stood up from his desk and walked over to me. He gave me a quick hug. “How are you?” He asked resting on his desk.
“Yeah I’m doing alright.” He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly not believing me. Bloody profilers
“What’s going on? He asked.
I sighed, smiling at him. “It’s nothing bad.” I didn’t really feel like explaining that I’d been sacked. Even if wasn’t my fault. I shouldn’t feel embarrassed, he wouldn’t judge me, but it was still awkward.
“If it’s nothing bad, then why don’t you wanna tell me?” He asked light-heartedly. He wouldn’t actually make me tell him if I didn’t want to, but he wanted me to know I could talk to him.
“I kind of got fired” I confessed. Hotch looked shocked.
“What happened?”
“Some guy was like non-stop flirting with me. But not just flirting, it was really weird. He kept asking me twisted personal questions and would always take pictures of me.” As I explained, I could see hotch getting visibly annoyed. “Then one day, he actually put his hands on me. In a proper gropey way. So, I told the manager and he told me I was lying to ruin this other guy’s career” I rolled my eyes as I finished, the memory of the incident replaying in my head. Hotch was quiet for a second before replying.
“We can lock him up if you want” He suggested causing me to chuckle.
“I’ll consider it.” Hotch smiled.
“Seriously though, that’s messed up. I’m sorry.” He patted me on the shoulder. “
It’s fine, it was a boring job anyway.”
“I’m sure. Well let’s go down, I’m sure the other will wanna see you.” He made his way to the door, and I followed after him. As we came down into the bullpen, I saw JJ, Emily, Reid, and Garcia all stood together. They all turned and smiled as they saw me coming down the stairs. We exchanged hugs and ‘how are yous’ before settling down.
“So, are you ready?” Garcia asked, grabbing her coat.
“Where you guys off to?” JJ asked.
“We’re gonna grab a bite to eat, you guys should come” I offered. They all agreed, and we went to leave.
“Hold up” A voice that made my heart skip came from behind me. I turned and saw Derek Morgan, flashing me that heart melting smile, walking towards me.
“So, you just thought you could walk your fine self into my place of work, and get away with not coming to see me?” He asked smoothly.
I laughed. “Good to see you too handsome.”
“Come here” He swung his arm around my waist and pulled me into him. Besides Garcia, me and Derek were the closest. He was my best friend. I cared about him more than I cared about myself. And if I’m being honest, I miss him more than anyone. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and buried my head in the crook of his neck. I felt his hands holding me close to him. Being in his arms again, as cliché as it sounds, it felt like home. After what felt like forever, we finally let each other go. I tried to hide the few tears that had managed to form in my eyes but when you’re surrounded by a team of profilers that can be quite difficult. Morgan placed his hand on my shoulder.
“Hey, don’t cry gorgeous.” He said comfortingly.
“Ugh I know it’s stupid.” I groaned wiping the tears away. “I’ve just missed you all. So much.” I chuckled slightly.
“We’ve missed you too, sweet girl.” Garcia said nudging my arm.
“Morgan the most though. Your all he’s talked about for a while now.” Reid chipped in, earning a look from Morgan. I raised my eyebrows at him playfully.
“Oh, am I you now?” He rolled his eyes jokingly at me.
“Now don’t start okay, it’s not like that” He said chuckling. We all laughed and made our way out of the building. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Morgan punch Reid in the arm. “You’re gonna pay for that pretty boy”.
*******************************************************************
I shouldn’t have been nervous. I’d been back with these guys for what, 3 hours, and it felt like we’d never been apart. I wiped away a tear that had escaped as I laughed at a joke JJ had made.
“So, Y/N, besides your boss being a complete idiot – what's been going on with you?” Hotch asked.
“Um not much to be honest. I’ve been helping my sister out with her son seeing as she’s back at work now.” I explained.
“He’s the same age as jack right?” Hotch asked, a smile forming on his lips. I nodded.
“She’s thinking about relocating, you know trying to be closer to me and her work so she doesn’t have to be away from him as much so they might end up being in the same class.”
“I’m sure him and Jack will be great friends” Hotch replied happily. A comfortable silence fell over us for a second, before JJ piped up.
“How’s the love life then Y/n?” She said smiling, her eyes flickering from me to Derek. I noticed him shift slightly next to me but didn’t think anything of it.
“Yeah, got your eye on anyone?” Emily chipped in.
“Um no, still as lonely as ever.” I joked.
Garcia scoffed. “Not true.”
I glared at her, willing her to shut up but of course she ignored me. “What about that absolute hottie you’ve been out with?” She smiled at me mischievously as she spoke.
Derek turned to face me. “Absolute hottie?” He repeated.
I felt my cheeks flush red with embarrassment.
“It’s nothing, just a couple of dates.” I said hurriedly.
“Well tell us about him” Emily said leaning forward.
“I don’t know guys it’s nothing serious.” I really didn’t feel like talking about him, mainly because of who he was.
“I don’t care I wanna know. Where’d you meet him?” She pressed. I sighed, she obviously wasn’t going to give up and by the look on everyone else’s face they were just as curious.
“We have mutual friends. And I went out for a drink with them one night and he was there.” I explained.
“Very nice.” JJ confirmed.
“What does he look like?” I was about to reply but Garcia beat me to it.
“Absolutely gorgeous. He has this beautiful sort of surfer boy hippie type blonde hair. And his eyes, ohmygod, I feel like he could stare into my soul. And don’t even get me started on that jawline. I could grate cheese with it.” Garcia gushed, placing her hand over her heart. Everyone chuckled before looking back at me.
“Sounds like a real dreamboat” Derek muttered. I glanced over at him, there was something about his tone that made me feel bad about talking about my date.
“What does he do?” Reid asked, finally deciding to join the conversation. I shuffled uncomfortably, glancing at Aaron.
“Um h-he’s a chef” I stuttered avoiding eye contact. Aaron chocked slightly on the mouthful of food he’d just placed in his mouth. Of course, he’d figured it out. My face was defiantly burning bright red right now. Everyone looked awkwardly from me to Hotch.
“What’s his name?” He asked, his voice steady.
“Sean” I said quietly. Everyone fell silent. Garcia’s mouth fell open. I’d never told her who he was, only showed her a picture but I guessed she’d never met him. Everyone waited for Hotch’s reaction. He put his cutlery down and crossed his arms. He just stared at me, not saying anything. I’d never felt more embarrassed. He cleared his throat before he spoke.
“Did you have fun?” My eyes widened. Safe to say that was not the reaction I was expecting.
“Well, yeah. He took me to a few really cool places, and he’s a total gentleman.” I replied. I thought I saw a hint of a smile grace his lips.
“I’m glad.” He said before turning his attention back to his food. We all looked at each other awkwardly.
“I-is that it?” I stuttered. Hotch turned his eyes to me.
“Y/N you don’t need my permission to date someone.”
“Yeah I know, but he’s your brother.”
“And?”
“Well, I don’t know, I just didn’t want things to be awkward.” I mumbled.
“Y/N, it’s fine. I don’t have an issue with it. If anything, I think you might be good for Sean” I let out a sigh of relief.
“Um well thank you Aaron” Everyone turned back to their food and after a few moments, conversation picked back up again. I looked over at Derek. He’d barley spoken to me since Garcia had mentioned I’d been on a date. I nudged his leg under the table causing him to look at me.
“You doing a sponsored silence I’m not aware of?” I joked. He offered me a tight-lipped smile but he didn’t reply. My brow furrowed.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked. He’s not one for being silent.
“Nothing, I’m all good pretty girl” He replied but he wouldn’t look at me.
“You don’t seem ‘all good’.” Whatever was going on in his head must have been important, we never kept secrets.
“Look at me.” I said, my tone soft. Derek sighed before he turned to face me, reluctantly meeting my gaze. I searched his eyes trying to figure him out. “What’s going on with you?”
“I said I’m fine would you drop it?” He snapped. I don’t think he meant it to sound as harsh as it did, but it took me by surprise. Everyone clearly heard the aggressive tone and snapped their heads to face us.
“Am I not allowed to care about my friend?” I shot back, not caring about the prying eyes on us. He scoffed at my words causing me to raise my eyebrows at him. “Something funny?”
“God can’t you just leave me alone? Just accept the fact that maybe I don’t wanna talk to you right now.” He said visibly aggravated. His words shocked me. He’d never spoken like this to me before and if I’m being entirely honest, it hurt. By the collective gasp that came from the table, it’s safe to say the others were just as surprised. I could feel tears beginning to prick in my eyes. I never cried if someone was rude to me but for some reason the fact that it was Derek, hurt like a bitch. His eyes flickered with regret.
“You know what fine, it’s not like I’ve been waiting to see you for the past 3 months. If you want to sit here and strop like a little kid then you do that Derek. But I’m not sitting around to watch it.” I grabbed my stuff and stood up “Here’s the money for my stuff” I placed the money on the table and turned to leave.
“Y/N, wait don’t go.” JJ called. “I’m sorry guys, it’s been great to see you. I’m sorry it was ruined.” I replied shooting a glare at Derek. Annoyingly, as he caught my gaze a stray tear fell down my cheek. I hurriedly wiped it away before practically running out of the restaurant.
*Third person POV*
Back at the table everyone glared at Derek as they watched Y/N run out the door.
“What the hell was that about?” Emily asked angrily. Derek leant back in his seat, refusing to make eye contact with any of them. He hadn’t meant to upset her. But the way she spoke about Sean, it shifted something inside of him. A feeling he’d never felt when it came to her. Jealousy. He had no reason to be jealous, it’s not like him and Y/N were together. They were friends, and she could date whoever she wanted. In fact, he’d even set her up a few times. But for some reason tonight was different. Maybe it was the fact it was Aaron’s brother? Maybe he was just upset at how the girls had gushed over him? But why would that matter?
“Derek.” Hotch’s voice came. Derek looked up, not realising he’d been ignoring them. “What gives you the right to speak to her like that? She was just looking out for you.” Hotch said his voice stern.
“I don’t know.” Derek mumbled.
“You need to apologise.” JJ added. Derek nodded before getting up.
“Actually, could you give me a ride? Y/N lives the road across from me and I need to grab some things to take back to the office” Reid piped up. Derek let out a small chuckle at Reid’s poor timing.
“Sure. Let’s go, kid.” The boys placed their money down before making their way to Derek’s car.
*1st person POV*
I closed the door to my apartment. and slumped down on my sofa, letting out an aggravated sigh. I could still feel the dried tears on my cheeks. Derek’s words replayed over in my head. Had I done something wrong? He was fine in the office? Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to get an answer by sitting on my sofa replaying the events in my head, so I dragged myself over to my kitchen sink. Turning on the tap I splashed my face with cold water. Suddenly I heard my text notification go off. I went over and saw Sean’s name pop up.
“Hey, you, how’s your day been?” I smiled at the words. Sean was so sweet. I had enjoyed the dates we’d been on and he’s definitely someone I want to keep in my life, but I wasn’t entirely sure if he was what I was looking for in a relationship.
“It’s been good. I was able to go to lunch with the BAU lot which was fun. Although, your brother may or may not have found out about the dates we’ve been on.” I typed back a reply. I decided to leave out the fall out me and Derek had, not wanting to explain it to him just yet. Within a few minutes the notification sounded once again.
“He’s going to kill me” I chuckled at his response.
“He was surprisingly okay with it. Even said I might be good for you 😉” I put my phone down and went to change out of my jeans, the food I’d had earlier – as nice as it was – was causing some serious bloating. I threw on a pair of joggers and pulled my favourite grey sweater over me before curling up onto my sofa. I’d barley been able to turn the TV on before I heard a knock at my door. Sighing I got up to answer it. The door swung open and there stood Spencer and Derek, who straightened up when he saw me.
“Hey.” He said sheepishly.
“What do you want?” I replied shortly. I was still pissed at him. He had no right to talk to me the way he did.
“To apologise. I was a complete dick.” He admitted.
“Yep, you were.” I agreed leaning against my door frame. Spencer looked around awkwardly
“Are you going to tell me why?” I pressed. Derek sighed.
“I don’t know, I got jealous I guess.” My eyes widened slightly. Jealous? Why was he jealous. “Just the way you and the girls were gushing over Sean, it just annoyed me.” I scoffed at his words causing him to furrow his brow.
“Since when has my love life been any concern of yours?” I snapped. His reason was bullshit.
“I-It’s not I just-“ But I didn’t let him finish.
“Exactly it’s not. First of all, me and Sean have been out 3 times. It’s nothing serious. Second of all, even if it was that doesn’t give you the right to talk to me like I’m a piece of shit. I was just trying to be good friend and make sure you were okay and that’s the response you gave me?” I could feel myself getting increasingly more annoyed. I saw his eyes glaze over with frustration.
“Well, I never asked to sit there and listen to how perfect Mr surfer boy was did I?” He replied. Spencer slowly backed away seeing where this was going and clearly not wanting to be around for it. I laughed at his words throwing my hands in the air.
“Why do you care so much? It’s not like you’re trying to take me out. I can date who I want Derek” I said frustrated.
“No, I’m not but I want to be able to see you. I don’t need some guy hanging around with you as well.” He said just as angrily. I stared at him. He couldn’t be serious right now.
“Well, I’m sorry Derek but you can’t control me okay. I deserve to be happy with whoever the fuck I want and if you can’t handle the fact that someone might be interested in me then that’s your problem.” I yelled and slammed the door in his face. I couldn’t believe him. He didn’t own me, it’s not like we’d ever dated, or he’d shown any type of interest in me. Yet somehow he expects me to just push Sean away because he doesn’t like him. I ran my hands through my hair annoyed. On the other side of the door, I could hear Spencer trying to talk some sense into Derek but I doubt he would be able to. I closed my eyes and leant against the wall trying to calm myself down. Suddenly I heard what sounded like someone running towards me. I opened my eyes and saw just that. Someone dressed in all black was suddenly running at me and before I had time to move had pinned my up against the wall. I tried to screaming but the person pressed a cloth over my mouth. I thrashed my arms about trying to escape their grasp. Luckily, my leg was positioned in between theirs so with all my strength I brought my foot to connect with their groin, causing them to fall to the floor.
“DEREK. SPENCER HELP” I screamed, praying the hadn’t left. As I went to open the door, the person grabbed my ankle and pulled me to the floor, dragging me backwards until they were on top of me. I flailed my limbs about trying my hardest to push them off of me or at least prevent them from doing whatever it was they were trying to do. I screamed desperately for the boys, tears streaming down my face. I was so scared, so wrapped up in trying to protect myself, I didn’t even hear the door burst open. It was only when the person from on top of me was dragged away that I opened my eyes again.
“Y/N! Y/N, it’s me. It’s Morgan baby you’re okay. I’ve got you.” Derek pulled me into his lap and held me tightly as I sobbed into his arms. Spencer had the man on his back and was cuffing him. I pulled myself up so I could wrap my arms around Derek’s neck and held onto him for dear life. As I begun to calm down I opened my eyes. I looked behind Derek and saw another person, dressed in all black, stood in the corridor leading to my bedroom.
“SPENCER.” I yelled pointing toward the person. Both of the boys whipped their heads round and saw the person just as they took off running towards bathroom.
“REID GET HIM” Derek yelled as he put himself in front of me protectively. Reid took off after him. As they disappeared into my bathroom, I heard a few shoots go off causing me to flinch and cling onto Derek’s arm.
“Reid, you alright?” Derek called out.
“I lost him. He jumped out the window, down the fire escape. I tried to hit him, but I missed. I don’t know where he went.” Reid replied, his voice flooded with guilt. Derek groaned irritably.
“Okay. Call Hotch, get them down here to come collect this guy. Make sure the whole team gets here, we need to go through her apartment. Figure out how this happened.” Reid nodded before dragging the guy out into the hall and calling Hotch. Derek turned back to face me. I was still sobbing and shaking violently.
“Hey, baby, I’m gonna need you to listen to me okay. “ He said, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Look at me.” His voice was soft. I lifted my eyes to meet his, still crying frantically. “There we go. Okay I need you to take a few deep breaths with me. You ready?” He took a deep breath in. I tried to copy him but thoughts of being attacked kept flooding back, making it impossible to focus on anything else. “Hey, your safe. I’m here with you now and I’m sure as hell not leaving your side. Nothing’s going to happen to you, I promise. Just breath with me okay.” After a few moments, I was able to calm my breathing, but I was still shaking like crazy. Derek pulled his jumper off and wrapped it around me. I pulled it close to my body, enjoying the warm I was gaining from it. Morgan helped me stand and we waited outside for the others. Soon enough, the black SUV pulled up down below us. I saw everyone jump out and practically hurl themselves up the stairs.
“Where is she? Where’s my girl?” Garcia’s voice bounced off of the walls causing a small smile to pull at my lips. When she caught sight of me she rushed over, her arms open. “Oh my god. Come here.” She wrapped herself around me in a tight embrace which I allowed myself to relax into slightly.
“Okay easy babygirl, don’t go crushing the life out of her.” Derek joked, prying her arms off of me. Garcia glared at him.
“If you weren’t the one who saved her life just now, I’d be slapping the hell out of you right now for how you spoke to her at lunch.” Derek’s eyes flashed over with guilt momentarily before Hotch walked over. “
Are you okay?” He asked me placing his hand on my shoulder. I nodded my head slightly. I wasn’t alright, I was terrified, but I knew they would need my help with this, so I just swallowed my feelings down. “Okay we’re going to need to run through some details with you to try and figure out who would have done this. Anything you can remember would be useful.” He explained.
“The first person-“ I began but JJ cut me off.
“No, not now. You need to rest. We’ll catch up with you first thing tomorrow okay?” She said offering me a small sympathetic smile. My eyes flickered over to my open apartment door. I didn’t want to go back in there, especially not alone. As if he’d read my mind, Hotch spoke up.
“You’re not staying here tonight. Morgan take her back with you, we’ll get cops posted out front as well. Just in case.” He instructed.
“You think the second guy, h-he’ll come back?” I tried to keep my voice as steady and as calm as I could, but I couldn’t hide the stutter. Hotch sighed.
“We don’t know enough about him yet. I would like to believe that he wouldn’t, but I can’t make you any promises. I’m sorry.” The relunctancy was evident in his voice, he knew that was the last thing I wanted to hear but he also couldn’t lie to me. I could feel the anxiety seeping its way back into me when I was suddenly snapped from my thoughts but an arm falling over my shoulders.
“hey, I’m gonna be right here with you the whole time. I won’t let anything happen to you; I swear it.” Morgan said comfortingly. I leant into him slightly, wanting so desperately to find safety in him.
“Is there anything you need from your flat?” Emily asked softly. I nodded.
“I need my hairbrush, a-and I left my phone. Maybe some spare clothes?” I replied.
“Okay, do you want me to go get them?” She offered.
“No, it’s fine I can go.” I replied and begun walking over to the door. I stood in front of it, willing my legs to just move forward.
“Hey.” A voice came from behind me. It was Emily with Morgan.
“We’re right here with you okay. We’ll help you get everything.” She spoke. I entered my flat, the two of them following close behind me, scanning every part of it just in case. I gathered all the things I needed and quickly exited the place.
“Come on, let’s get you home.” Derek said leading me to the car after we’d said goodbye to everyone.
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Part 2 anyone??
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honeypiehotchner · 4 years
Text
intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter thirty-five
Welcome to the shitshow! Remember that I love y’all <3
Warnings: arguing, fighting, tension, angst
Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist
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Chapter Thirty-Five: I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you
The tearful phone call with your mom lasts for nearly four hours.
“I just don’t know what to do,” you admit. “I don’t want to leave the BAU.”
“I know, honey.”
“And I’m not going to,” you say firmly, wiping your cheeks on the back of your hand. “I didn’t let Trevor stop me from accepting that job with the BCI, I’m not letting this stop me from staying in the BAU. I’m better than that.”
“I know, baby.”
“And I want Aaron, I do, but if it’s at this cost, then I…” You don’t even want to say it out loud.
“Have you talked to him?” Your mom asks gently.
You shake your head. “Haley surprised him at the office earlier with Jack, so I’m sure he’s hanging out with Jack for the rest of the day. He might spend the night, too.”
“Hm,” your mom sighs. “Is he trying to get back together with her?”
“Not that I know of.” You pause. “I don’t think he is. I know him, he’d…he’d tell me if they were, right? Or if she had asked about it?”
“I want to say that he would, honey, but I don’t know. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and I know he loves you, but…”
“But what?”
“Marriage…” Your mom sighs. “When you marry someone, especially as young as the two of them were, the bond is different. Add a child into the mix and it’s…it’s hard to let go of.” She pauses. “I never told you this, but letting go of your father was the hardest decision I ever had to make.”
“You told me it was the easiest.”
“Because I had to tell myself that. If I told myself anything else, I wouldn’t have had the courage to leave. I had to convince myself I could do it, and that meant letting you know that I could. I didn’t want you to think our independence should be held hostage from us.”
“So you’re saying…”
“I’m saying, I know you love him, and I know he loves you. But you’re still young. And whatever your future looks like, as long as it has the best version of you, then it’s enough. Everything else will sort itself out. But you have to be there and be the best you before everything else can fall into place around you.”
+++
When you head into the BAU the next day, you go straight to Hotch’s office. You don’t stop at your desk, or Morgan’s when he calls out to you (though you do wave at him, and Emily too).
“Come in,” Hotch announces after hearing a knock, unaware that it’s you.
“Hey,” you say to get his attention. “Can we talk?”
Immediately, he stands, rounding his desk to gather you in his arms. “Hey, of course. I’m so sorry I couldn’t call you last night.”
“It’s okay,” you pause to accept his kiss. “I was on the phone with my mom for a while anyway.”
“Everything okay?” He asks.
“Yes and no,” you exhale nervously, stepping out of his arms, needing to ground yourself. “That’s why I came straight here.”
“Okay…” He steps over and shuts the door, gesturing for you to continue.
“When I was called into Strauss’s office yesterday, it wasn’t about being back. It wasn’t routine. It was because she knows about us.”
“I know.”
You freeze, mouth open and ready to speak, but you shut it slowly, processing his words. “What do you mean you know?”
“I talked with her yesterday before I left.”
“And you didn’t think to text me about it yesterday?”
Aaron watches you carefully. “If I recall correctly, you didn’t tell me the real reason Strauss talked to you either.”
“Because Haley was here with Jack!” You argue. “I wasn’t going to bring that up in front of them.”
“Okay, I understand.”
“What did Strauss talk to you about?” You ask, not wanting to stay near the topic of Haley for too long. “Was it just about her knowing about us?”
Aaron looks like he doesn’t want to answer, but you stare him down until he does. “Yes. And she asked if you had been…inappropriately pushing yourself onto me.”
“What?”
“I told her you had done nothing like that whatsoever,” he says quickly and firmly, wanting you to hear him. “But she did ask that your behavior be monitored for the time being.”
“For the— Hotch, are you kidding me? Don’t tell me you agreed to that?”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“You could’ve told her that our relationship is mutually consensual and none of her business.”
He gives you a look because you both know he couldn’t tell Strauss it’s “none of her business,” but you still wish he had. You could certainly never say something like that to her, but he could almost definitely get away with it. You’d be surprised if he hasn’t said something similar to Strauss before this.
“I didn’t want to confirm anything about us and risk your termination as an agent in the bureau.”
“Well, thank you for your concern, but Strauss very politely told me yesterday that I need to pick a transfer before she forces me out of here.”
“What?”
“She talked to me about transferring the entire time,” you cry. “She told me I’m young, I don’t need to go to extreme lengths to prove myself and better my skillset.”
“It’s true, you don’t.”
“She thinks I’m sleeping with you to do exactly that.”
Aaron sighs heavily. “I told her that you’re not.”
“She’s not going to believe it. She obviously didn’t believe you since my behavior is now going to be monitored like I’m a fucking child.”
“I know it’s not ideal,” Hotch says. “And I wish I didn’t have to agree with her. But if these are some small prices we have to pay, then…we have to pay them.”
It sounds good. In theory. It sounds right.
But it’s wrong.
“No,” you shake your head. “Because they’re not prices that we’re paying. It’s all coming down on me. And I can’t do that. I can’t.”
“Y/N…” He hates that you feel this way, and part of him knows you’re right.
“I know we said we would wait before telling Strauss, but that was before she found out. She already knows now, so why don’t we go to her ourselves and tell her how serious we are?”
You thought he’d be all for this idea. But he shakes his head.
“It isn’t that simple.” He pauses. “She also mentioned others overhearing our…less than appropriate comments to one another.”
“You mean yours.”
“Excuse me?”
“Hotch, I told you before we even started any of this that we needed to stay professional. Your good girl comments here and there surely weren’t peak professionalism.”
“If it’s been making you uncomfortable, why haven’t you stopped me?”
“Because I wasn’t uncomfortable,” you cry. “I never was, and I never am around you. I knew we were pushing it, but I didn’t think about stopping.”
“Okay,” he nods. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known better.”
“It’s fine—”
“No, Y/N, as unit chief, I should’ve known better.”
“Okay…” You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to keep going. “Okay?”
“I think it would be best if you and I take a step back from our relationship until this all settles down.”
You blink. “What?”
“I knew since the beginning that something like this could happen,” he pauses. “And I’ve worried for a while now that our relationship is too…inappropriate.” Pause. “That it’s putting a strain on the team and our jobs.”
“How long is a while?” You ask. And when he doesn’t reply, you demand an answer. “Hotch. How long have you been thinking like this?”
“Since the night you were shot,” he admits quietly, “and we almost lost you.”
“Since…” You cut yourself off out of sheer disbelief. “You’re telling me you’ve been thinking like this for…for the past six months?”
“Y/N—”
“All this time we’ve been together, and you’ve just been waiting to break up with me.”
“I want to be with you, but our jobs…”
“And if I transfer somewhere else? What then?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your job here for our relationship.”
“And if I do?”
He says nothing.
You figure that’s enough of an answer.
“Do you need me for anything today?” You ask. “For work.”
“No,” he murmurs.
“I’ll be going home, then,” you say. “Have a good rest of your day.”
+++
Down in the bullpen, Morgan, Emily, and Garcia have been watching your conversation with Hotch unfold through the cracks in the blinds of his office. He didn’t close them all the way, so Spencer has been able to lip read.
But as soon as Spencer realized the conversation wasn’t going anywhere good, he stopped.
When you open the door to Hotch’s office, you’re not surprised at all to find the team staring up at you. You ignore eye contact with every single one of them as you skip down the steps, heading straight for the glass doors.
Hotch stands in the doorway of his office, watching you go, watching Garcia and Emily run after you.
Standing outside the elevator, shaking with frustration, and holding back your tears as hard as you can, refusing to cry here.
“Okay, what just happened?” Pen asks, and you almost don’t hear her because you can barely see straight anyway.
“Nothing,” you mutter. “Or—I don’t know. I don’t actually know what just happened to me. God, can this thing hurry up?” You press the call button a few more times.
“It didn’t look like nothing,” Emily replies.
“It looked like—Wait.” Pen stops, her eyes wide. “Did you—”
Finally, the elevator doors open.
“Did you break up?” Emily finishes, sadness all over her face.
“I don’t know,” you reply, stepping inside the elevator. “Ask him, I guess.”
You reach over and almost press the ground floor, but at the last second, you hit Strauss’s floor number.
You wave sadly at Pen and Emily, and as the doors close, you catch a glimpse of Hotch standing at the glass doors.
I can always return to the BAU someday, you tell yourself. Maybe this is a sign that I’m needed somewhere else.
After Aaron sees the elevator doors close, he knows right then that he’s lost you.
Next chapter
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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years
Text
The Perks of Cold Weather
Hello! This is just a whole lot of fluff because I need some positive vibes this week. Feel free to send some requests my way if you’d like! They can be as specific or as vague as you want and I’ll do my best. None of my ideas are currently working for me.
Summary: Reader and Spencer have some fun in the snow in a small town in Alaska.
Words: 2996
Warnings: none I think
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When you first started at the BAU, you were quick to realize the group was more like a family than coworkers. It was clear in the little things they did for each other on case, like the way JJ and Spencer would comfort each other on particularly difficult cases to the slight bickering that would inevitably start up between Derek and Emily about anything that didn’t really matter.
 You were quick to find your place in the little family as well. Well, not find it so much as fall into it, but you didn’t mind. You were only 28 years old, meaning you were the youngest member of the BAU. Being the youngest meant a lot of teasing from the “older sibling” personalities of everyone except Rossi and Hotch. Their personalities were much more parent-esque. With how much they’d tease you, you were always quick to jump on the chance to tease them for a change. The perfect opportunity arose when a case came up in Alaska.
Penelope walked through the bullpen, calling you all into the roundtable room right before you left for the day. “Hello my wonderful crime fighters. I wish I had better news, but this case is a real whammy. Three women have been found stabbed to death in a small town in Alaska.”
 The collective groans of just about everyone in the room were quiet, but obvious.
 “I know, I know. Another freezing cold case. I wish I could send you to LA all the time, but alas bad guys aren’t deterred by freezing temperatures.” She went on to explain the details of the case before Hotch dismissed everyone with his typical “Wheels up in 30.”
 The team dispersed to collect their go bags- and winter items for the cold weather they would surely be facing in Alaska- before meeting on the jet. When you got there, everyone else was already boarded, and you couldn’t help but feel the low energy of everyone on the plane.
 “Don’t tell me the lot of you are afraid of a little snow?” You can’t stop the smirk from appearing on your face as you sit down across from Spencer and adjacent to Emily, Derek, and JJ.
 “Big words from someone who hasn’t been on a case in Alaska yet.” Derek’s reply comes without hesitation. The grin on your face only grows when you realize that everyone really is feeling low because of the impending winter wonderland.
 “Don’t tell me you’re excited for the cold weather?” JJ shivers just asking the question.
 “Of course I am! I’ve always loved the cold. There’s something so magical about watching snow fall. It feels like Christmas!” The four of them stare at you like you’ve lost your mind. “You are seriously telling me none of you like the snow?” You scan all of their faces in disbelief, eyes landing on Spencer last.
 “Don’t look at me. I’m from Nevada, it’s basically the desert. Winter in Las Vegas is comparable to fall in DC. The last time it snowed with any significance was in 2003 and that was only an inch.” Spencer nearly starts rambling about weather patterns across the US, but cuts himself off.
 “You all are seriously killing my good mood with your bad vibes. I will change at least one of your minds by the end of this case” You say in a huff while putting your headphones on. You try to catch up on some sleep before you all reconvene to discuss the case.
 After the briefing and right before landing, everyone starts bundling up in layers upon layers of sweatshirts, jackets, coats, gloves, scarves, and hats. You pull a sweater on over your long sleeve and zip up your FBI jacket, adding a cute beanie more for aesthetics than warmth. You’ve never been one to get overly cold, so you skip a few layers everyone else put on.
 The rest of the team marches off the jet as if they would rather be anywhere else, but you don’t let it deter you. You exit the jet with a smile on your face, taking a deep breath of the cool Alaskan air.
 “You really are enjoying yourself?” Spencer asks with a small smile. You meet his eye, the look on his face giving you butterflies, before responding.
 “Of course I am. It smells like winter!” The two of you share a laugh as you get in the SUV headed to the police precinct to actually get to work.
 --
 The case only lasted two days. You were glad to have solved it so quickly, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t going to miss the snow. After the case files are all packed away and Hotch goes off to coordinate the jet, you head outside to absorb every last ounce of winter possible.
 “I thought I might find you out here.” Spencer sits next to you on the bench as you stare at the flakes falling from the sky.
 “What can I say, I just really love the cold.” You reply without turning your head. “Maybe it’s weird, but I would pick cold over hot any day.”
 “I don’t think it’s weird at all! I think it’s kind of cute actually.” That gets your attention and you turn to see he’s looking at his hands in his lap, fiddling with his thumbs. “I like how happy you are when you look at the snow.”
 Of course, that makes you smile again. “Thank you, Spence.” You can feel your cheeks heating up, but you’re quickly distracted by the sound of Derek calling the two of you back into the station.
 “Hey lovebirds, Hotch needs us.” You roll your eyes at Derek before standing up, offering your hand to Spencer to help him up. He takes your hand, squeezing it slightly as he rises from the bench. He only drops your hand when he goes to hold the door open for you, leading you back inside. The team gathers in the conference room, Hotch walking in with a grim expression.
 “I’ll cut to the chase. We won’t be able to fly home until this evening. The snow from last night on top of the storm that’s about to pass through is too much to clear right now.” Everyone, including you, sighs before nodding in understanding. As much as you would love to stay longer, you know it sucks that everyone can’t go home to their families. “This case is wrapped up, so feel free to just explore the town or relax in the hotel. We should be able to take off at 9:00 pm, so I expect to see all of you on the jet by 8:45.” Those words were music to your ears. As everyone begins to pack up to head out, you turn to Spencer.
 “I can’t believe this. It’s like a snow day! I’ve always loved snow days! We would always go outside, have a snowball fight, build a snowman, and try to build an igloo but end up giving up when it collapsed for the third time.” He chuckles at your enthusiasm, but nods along as you both walk out of the precinct toward the hotel just down the street. “Then we’d go in for lunch, make hot chocolate and cookies, and watch all our favorite movies.”
 “Is that what you want to do today?” Spencer asks as you both walk into the hotel lobby.
 “I mean, in a perfect world, yeah. That is exactly what I would want to do today.” You smile wistfully as you think back to your childhood snow days with your siblings.
 “Well then, let’s see how perfect we can make the world, just for today.” Spencer’s smiling as he says it, taking in the confusion and shock on your face.
 “You mean… You want to build a snowman? With me?” Your heart is beating so forcefully, you wouldn’t be surprised if it flew right out of your chest.
 “Yeah, and all the other things too.” Spencer’s words are soft and unsure, contrasting the confidence of his previous statement.
 “But you don’t like the cold weather…” You simply can’t fathom why he would volunteer to do these cold weather activities when just two days ago he was talking about how little snow he experienced when he was younger.
 “But you do, and we’re stuck here anyway. So, why not?” Hearing that he would spend his day off playing in the snow simply because you want to does things to you that you chose to ignore for the time being.
 “O- okay… yeah, let’s do it! ” The two of you smile at each other for a few seconds before you each bring your things to you respective rooms with a plan to meet in the lobby in fifteen minutes.
 When you get to your room you pull out the warmest clothes you brought to Alaska. Although it would suffice for walking down the street, it’s not exactly made for playing in the snow. After getting dressed you meet Spencer in the lobby. He is dressed in warmer clothes than you, but still not snow proof.
 “I don’t know if this is a good idea…” Your excitement to start this day with Spencer has dwindled since imaging the cold, wet clothes you’d end up in. “The key to a good snow day is waterproof clothes and we definitely don’t have any. How am I going to make you like snow if you’re freezing and wet at the end of the day?” You would expect the resident genius to agree with you, but instead of a grim expression and a nod in agreement, Spencer’s smile grows.
 “Don’t worry about it. Just come with me.” He leads you outside of the hotel with his hand on the small of your back all the way down to the town store. “What needs to be waterproof? We can find snow pants, jackets, gloves, and boots right here.” He looks so pleased with himself as he leads you around the store to collect all the items you’ll need. He even picks out a sled for the two of you.
 After checking out, he leads you back outside where you pull the waterproof gear on over your warm layers, tossing the tags into a nearby trash can. Before you can say anything, he is again leading you through the town with his hand on the small of your back. He stops when he reaches the park, turning to you once again.
 “Where do you want to build the snowman?” You mirror the grin on his face as you run across the park to a flatter area.
 You begin compressing the snow in your hands to form the ball that would eventually become the bottom layer of your snowman. Spencer copies your actions, forming a lopsided ball for the middle. You leave Spencer to work on the head while you search around the nearby trees for sticks to use as arms and rocks to use for the eyes and buttons.
 After finding the perfect set of sticks, you return to see Spencer adding a carrot nose right in the middle of the head.
 “I didn’t even see you buy carrots!” He laughs at your childlike enthusiasm, moving aside so you can add the sticks to the middle. You also add the rocks you gathered for the eyes and buttons. Spencer surprises you again by pulling out a hat and scarf to add the finish touches.
 After forcing him to take a selfie with you and the snowman, you walk across the park to find a good sledding hill. You find the perfect hill, and offer to go down first since it’s going to take some effort to form the path. Spencer watches you scooching your way through the snow, forcing the sled down the hill, laughing hysterically. You haven’t been able to enjoy snow like this for years.
 Spencer was hesitant to sled down the hill together, but one pout from you and he climbed on right away. The sled picked up pace is you barreled out of control, flipping and rolling down the hill.
 You took the opportunity of a distracted Spencer to form a snow ball, waiting until he was only a few feet away to throw it at him. Of course, as soon as it hits him it’s game on. The two of you are running through the park, hiding behind trees, and dodging each other’s snowballs. Spencer, being uncoordinated, mostly missed you. That is, until the very end of the snowball fight when he hits you right in the face, the surprise causing you to fall to the ground.
 “Y/N! Are you okay! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He’s cut off by your laughter.
 “Relax Spence, its fine! It was powdery snow. It’s not like you hit me with a chunk of ice.” You smile at him as he helps you to a standing position. You’re so focused on standing up without slipping on the compressed snow beneath your feet, you don’t realize how close the two of you have become.  When you look up to meet his eyes, your noses are nearly touching.
 Without much thought for the consequences, you lean a few inches forward, ever so slightly brushing your lips against his.
 Spencer is so stunned, it takes him much longer than he’d care to admit to reciprocate your affection. So long in fact, that you’ve pulled away and are frantically trying to think of something to say to save your friendship when he pulls you back in.
 The two of you don’t pull away again until the need for air overpowers your need for each other. You stay close though, foreheads pressed together.
 “Let me take you on a date. A real one where we go into knowing it’s a date.” Spencer says it all in one breath.
 “Oh, Spence. This whole day has been a perfect date, even if we didn’t say it at first. But I would love to go on another with you.”
 The two of you are all smiles as you walk back toward the café near your hotel. You’ve been outside so long it’s nearly dark- granted it gets dark around 4:00 this time of year in Alaska. Upon entering the café, Spencer is quick to order two hot chocolates and cookies to go.
 “I know it’s not the same as baking them ourselves, but we don’t have access to an oven in the hotel.” He says, squeezing your hand before leading you out of the café.
 You would blindly follow Spencer anywhere, but that doesn’t stop you from asking him about it. “Where are we going now? I thought we were going to eat…”
 “Back to the hotel. We have one more thing to check off the list for your perfect snow day.” Of course he would remember your list from earlier in the day. “So tell me, what’s your favorite snow day movie?”
 “That’s actually a tough question. It changes depending on the mood.” You are genuinely trying to think of the perfect movie to end the perfect day as you walk back into the hotel.
 “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go up to your room and pick out a movie that fits ‘the mood’, and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes?” You simply nod in response, too lost in thought to contemplate where he could be going.
 15 minutes later you have finally picked out a movie to watch when Spencer enters your room, carrying a takeout bag.
 “I finally found a movie!” You smile at him as you show him your computer screen. Anastasia is queued on your Disney+.
 “Perfect. We can now officially start our date.” He smiles, pulling the food out of the bag, he hands you a cup of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Your heart warms at the sight of it. You know Spencer has an eidetic memory, but you still get butterflies at the idea of him remembering your favorite cold weather food.
 The two of you sit against the headboard, setting the computer between you to play the movie. After you’ve finished eating you shuffle around on the bed, moving the laptop so you could cuddle with Spencer.
 “I’ve got another reason for you to like the cold weather.” You state matter-of-factly, eyes still trained on the movie.
 “Yeah? What is it?” Spencer’s eyes are trained on your face.
 “It’s better for cuddling.” A small grin appears on your face at the sound of Spencer’s airy laugh. He pulls you closer, both of you completely content.
 --
 As much as you love the cold and snow, dragging yourself out of Spencer’s arms and into the cold air to get to the jet on time was not an exciting task. In fact, it put you in a slightly sour mood, something Morgan was all too quick to pick up on.
 “What’s the matter L/N? The cold weather got you down?” He laughs at your annoyed expression.
 “Not a chance, Morgan. I quite enjoyed our little snow day actually.” You smile at Spencer as you pull your blanket from your go bag and sit on the couch.
 “You actually played in the snow? It was only 22 degrees today!” You can’t help but shake your head. 22 degrees is cold, but nothing compared to how bad it can get in Alaska.
 “We did indeed. I think I managed to turn Spencer on to the cold weather too.” Spencer sits down next to you encouraging you to share your blanket.
 “How’d you manage that? I’ve been to on enough cases with Pretty Boy here to know he prefers the warmer ones.”
 “It’s actually rather simple.” Spencer replies, shifting his arm around you on the back of the couch. You smile as you close your eyes and lean into his touch. “Colder climates make for better cuddles.”
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juniorgman187 · 3 years
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Fighting Fire With Fire (Reid Fic)
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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!
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jediken0bi · 4 years
Text
The Lucky One
Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary:
Spencer has always been good at keeping secrets. This secret just so happens to walk into the BAU to bring him his lunch. The team, supportive as ever, decides to tease him a little and Derek learns a little lesson about making assumptions.
word count: 2763
-
You and Spencer have only been officially dating for about 3 Months.
3 Months, 4 days and 13 hours you hear a voice inside your head. One that sounds suspiciously like Spencers.
You let out a small giggle before shaking your head slightly.
Things couldn't be better between the two of you. You guys had spare keys to the other persons apartment and while that might seem like a rush move for a lot of people you two have agreed that this is the easiest way to maximize your time together. So more often than not, you were staying over at each other's apartment.
You were currently on your way to bring him his lunch since he was in a rush this morning and forgot to take it.
Nothing new to either of you. He often tends to leave his lunch at home only to realize it when he's already on his break resulting in him usually buying himself a cheap sandwich or skipping lunch all together. You decided that, for once, he deserved to have a proper meal. He's been working a lot of overtime lately and it's starting to take a toll on him. On both of you really. He was constantly exhausted and you had to watch him work himself into over drive. Ever since the Hankle case, he's been scared to let even the smallest details go unnoticed which meant that he often spend much longer than the rest of the team on studying the files and trying to solve cases at the speed of light. It's something the team has noticed too over the last couple of weeks. They've been trying to get him to go out with them more often to take his mind off things but he usually rejects them by coming up with some fake excuse.
The reality was that he usually wanted to come straight home to you. He told you the reason he hasn't told the team about you two yet is their constant meddling and involvement in his life. He loves them all dearly and he wouldn't change a thing about either of them, but this was his and his only. He wasn't quite ready to give up the only thing he didn't have to share with anyone. He wanted you all to himself for as long as possible and while you can admit that you were skeptical at first, it's fair to say that you've come to understand Spencers point of view a lot better since then.
So, while you knew all about his team, they knew nothing about you. It didn't offend you though. You are confident that you and Spencer are in this for the long run.
Of course you were slightly worried about running into one of them while bringing him his lunch but that's a risk you were willing to take if it meant that Spencer didn't have to spend another day hungry and exhausted. It's not likely for him to get mad at you if it were to happen anyway. He keeps making small remarks to test the waters.
At this point, he might be scared you don't want to meet his team by the way he's tip toeing around the subject.
Finally arriving at the big scary FBI building you walk inside with caution.
Logically speaking the FBI is the last place you should feel scared to be at, but you can't help but think that this is probably the most intimidating place in the U.S. All those important people in their suits and pencil skirts and their stone cold expressions made you question how Spencer could be so different.
Before you could finish that thought you pass the security check and run straight into someone else on your way to the elevator.
You couldn't get a word out before said person started talking.
"Oh my god i am so sorry, gorgeous! I'm usually more coordinated than this i swear. It's just been a very stressful morning and now i've made yours worse by bumping into you-"
You smile widely as you realize who you must be talking to.
Tech Genius Penelope Garcia
"It's completely fine honestly! It was totally my fault anyway. It's my first time here and i'm a bit nervous"
You felt a bit rude interrupting her but based on the things Spencer told you about her this apology would've went on for at least another two minutes and you would much rather spend that elevator ride having a conversation with her.
After all, she was the BAU sunshine.
And bright she is with her colorful clothes and awesome glasses you think to yourself in that very moment.
It was a nice change of scenery after hushing around serious looking people before.
"Well, looks like we were both a bit dazzled just then! First time huh? Yeah there's definitely something scary about this place. What's a pretty gal like you doing here on a saturday morning? Oh! Are you visiting someone special?", Garcia says in a excited tone before quickly pressing the button taking you two up to the BAU floor.
You were grateful for that because it meant you didn't have to explain why you had to go to that floor too. Of course Penelope was way too hyper to realize i hadn't pressed another button in that moment so i quickly answered her to draw her attention to something else.
"Yeah, i am. I'm bringing my boyfriend his lunch. He hasn't been taking care of himself recently and i want him to at least have a proper meal in his stomach"
Garcia smiled at you with a small nod.
"That's so cute! He is lucky to have you, sweetie. I'm Penelope Garcia by the way!"
She extends her hand and you immediately shake it with a small smile playing on your lips
"I'm Y/N. Very nice to meet you, Penelope"
Not 3 seconds later the elevator doors open and you follow Garcia out of it and straight into the bullpen.
You didn't make it very far before a guy you strongly assume to be the infamous Derek Morgan approached Garcia and, by proximity, you.
"Now that's what you wanna see first thing in the morning! How is my Babygirl?"
Yep, definitely Morgan
"Infinitely better now that i've seen you, hot stuff" says Penelope without even having to think about it.
You can't help but snort at how adorable their friendship is. They're so comfortable with each other.
Derek looks past Garcia and straight at you with curious eyes.
"Well hello mamas. Who do we have here?"
Garcia turns around and has a surprised look on her face when she finally notices you behind her.
"Y/N! I thought you were on your way to meet your boyfriend for lunch?"
I opened my mouth to explain why exactly i was there but Derek beat me to it.
"Now why don't we just forget about that boyfriend and you let me take you out for lunch instead?"
Penelope hits him in the shoulder and i just laugh. Derek looks at me smugly and raises his eyebrows as a way of asking 'What do you say?'
You're tempted to just straight up tell him who you're here for to save everyone from a potentially awkward situation but just as you start talking you see Spencer sitting at his desk focused on his paperwork.
You make the quick decision to simply show Derek instead.
Without saying another word you simply walk past him with a big smile and head towards your destination.
"Hey handsome"
Spencers head shoots up as soon as he hears the familiar sound of your voice. He stares at you with wide eyes. He's clearly shocked to see you and you don't blame him. You just hope he's happy to see you.
"Y/N! What are you doing here?"
Now, if it had been anyone else you're sure this would've sounded rude, but you know Spencer so you know he doesn't mean for it to sound accusing. He's genuinely wondering.
You put on a playful pout.
"Is that a way to talk to the wonderful person who came all the way to the fbi to bring you lunch?"
Spencer finally stands up and looks down on the bag in your hand. He smiles and suddenly it's like he's at home with you. No one else around.
He walks up to you and wraps his arms around your waist.
"No, of course not. Thank you, beautiful"
He presses a small but firm kiss to your waiting lips and you smile up at him.
"You're welcome. I know work has been rough and i thought maybe a proper lunch could make up for some of it. I know it's not a lot and it doesn't cure the bad thoughts but you should know that i made today's lunch with an extra amount of love"
You joke.
You push one of his curls out of his eyes so you can properly look at him. He was already gone by the time you woke up so this is the first you're seeing of him today. He looks tired. Exhausted. And it's breaking your heart.
He gives you a smile that reaches his eyes. The first one in days. There's a feeling of pride blooming inside of you.
"How could i say no to some extra lovin'?"
Your eyes immediately widen and a blush creeps up your face.
"Spence!" You hit his shoulder and he tumbles back a tiny bit, laughing.
"I'm sorry, love. I really am grateful for this. You didn't have to do this"
It's only then that you realize you're not in the confide space of your apartments. You're in the bullpen of the BAU surrounded by Spencers friends and second family.
Spencer seems to realize that too because he suddenly let's go of you and clears his throat.
Confused about what just happened you turn around to spot Derek, Penelope and two women who you assume must be JJ and Emily staring at you with wide unbelieving eyes.
"There ain't no way. Pretty boy!! My man!"
Derek breaks out of his shock first and proudly points between the two of you.
Garcia doesn't waste a second following his example
"Reid is the boyfriend who hasn't been taking care of himself?!"
"What?" JJ, Emily and Spencer all ask at the time.
You can't help but laugh out loud at the absurd situation you got yourself in.
You turn around to look at Spencer. One hand grabbing his chin so he looks at you.
"Yeah, that would be him"
Spencer goes beet red immediately and the team goes wild.
You only smile wider at him and he pulls you back against his chest, wrapping one of his arms back around your waist. He goes to hide his embarrassment by burying his face in your shoulder.
He hates being the center of attention especially when it comes to his team.
"Spence, i didn't know you were seeing someone! How come you hid her from us?"
JJ asks him all excited. She was clearly happy her best friend has finally found someone he loves and trusts.
Spencer grumbles and lifts his head to look at his team.
"I wasn't hiding her! I just wanted something for myself for a little while. We're all up in each others business all the time and i love you guys but it was nice not having to share this part of my life with everyone for a bit. JJ, you did the same when you started dating Will!"
The team looks at each other for a moment and suddenly they all nod understandingly
"Fair enough" they all say.
Spencer hums approvingly and you just smile at the scene before you.
That wasn't that bad! I don't even know what i was afraid of
You were about to bid your goodbyes to the team and Spence so they could get back to work when Dereks next comment urges you to stay for a little while longer.
"Now Reid don't get me wrong but how the hell did you land a smoke show like this? No disrespect kid but i admittedly tried to flirt with her before i knew who she was"
Spencer smiles uncomfortably and shifts from one foot to the other.
"I don't know i guess i was just being myself? I saw her in my favorite book store one day and i just asked her out. Unusual for me, sure, but it's like i didn't have to be afraid with her. I don't know that probably sounds weird"
Your eyes soften and you lay your hand on top of Spencers on your waist. You turn your head a little to press a small kiss to his cheek.
"It doesn't sound weird, Spence. I'm glad you asked me out. I wanted to ask you but i couldn't bring myself to build up the courage. I think you're brave for taking a risk but trust me there was no way i was going to say no to you"
Emily, JJ and Penelope all seemed to melt over the cute interaction between you two but Dereks focus was somewhere else.
He didn't mean any harm you're absolutely sure about that. Maybe it's your instinct to protect Spencer or maybe it's your way of showing him exactly what he's worth but you can't find yourself feeling sorry for what happens next.
"Hold on, you were scared to ask him out? Pretty Ricky over here intimidated you? That's got to be a first"
He laughs with no real malice behind his voice. He's just joking around after all.
Spencer looks down in slight embarrassment at his friends teasing and you decide that now is the time to show them exactly what kind of girlfriend you are.
"I'm not sure we're looking at the same person here Derek because when i was at that bookstore creepily drooling over this hot as hell 6'3 doctor with great taste in literature i knew i had to ask him out. He's the kind of man you want to spend your life with. Not some cheap fling or meaningless 2 week dating experiment. I knew that, once i had him, i was going to hold on to him. So yeah, i was intimidated. It was like staring into your future and i was scared of messing it up. I've never been happier than i am now with Spencer"
Spencer stayed silent the entire time only pressing you closer to him. Once you're finished talking he presses a long firm kiss to your head.
"It's okay. I know, love. Me too"
He whispers loud enough so you could hear it but not loud enough for the rest of the team to hear.
"Woah little mama i meant no offense! I don't call him pretty boy for nothing. I'm just playing with y'all. I love the kid and i'm happy you two have found each other"
He smiles warmly at you and you give him a smile in return.
"I know you didn't. Spence told me all about you guys. I just don't like it when people make assumptions about my relationship with him. Because if anything, i'm the lucky one.
Spencer snorts and you lightly elbow him in the stomach with a grin on your face. You both look at each other with a glint in your eyes
"Agree to disagree" you both say at the same time. It's kind of become your thing. This isn't the first time that debate has been discussed between you two.
"Oh my god they're total nerds in love. Love Nerds!"
Penelope says in a squeaky voice.
You all laugh at her enthusiasm and you turn around to look at your boyfriend once more.
"I better get going. I didn't mean to stay this long anyway. I'll see you tonight? Your place? I'll order us some chinese"
Spencer takes your hand in his and nods with a smile.
"Yeah i'll be there"
You grin and lean up to kiss him goodbye. Seconds before your lips meet you whisper
"You better be. I'm planning on cashing in that promise for some extra lovin' tonight"
You finally press a kiss to lips and turn around as he turns bright red.
"Y/N!!"
You laugh loudly.
"Two can play this game baby!"
You're practically running out of there to avoid any further questioning from his team. All you hear is a chorus of laughter and Spencers embarrassed voice as he tells them to shut up
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laurensprentiss · 3 years
Text
Jouska [Hotch x Reader]
Chapter 13:
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Gif credit: @hqtchner
A/N: I toyed with several ideas for this one, but I wanted the reader to be strong in her own right which is why this takes the direction it does.
Warnings: Strong depictions of violence, assault, blood, vomiting. Graphic injury, choking, gun violence.
———
“What you remember saves you.” - W.S Merwin
———
“You don’t like what I’ve done with the place?” 
“Jordan.” You breathe. “What did you do?” 
His jaw sets. His expression goes from glee to fury and he’s next to you in a flash, nose to nose, dragging your head back by the hair on the nape of your neck. A wince escapes your mouth when the pulling sends a sting up your scalp. 
“What do you mean, what did I do? Isn’t it obvious?” He sneers, punctuating his words with another pull of your hair. 
You cry out in pain, your neck straining. The rabid look in his eyes and his bared teeth send shivers down your spine.
He continues, “I made sure you were going to stay all...mine.” He whispers, releasing his grip, smoothing the top of your head. “Isn’t it sweet? I did it all so I could have you all to myself… and instead of thanking me, you’re acting like you’re above me. Like you always do. Maybe I need to teach you how to be grateful-” 
“I’ll be grateful.” You offer in a quick breath. “I mean- I am. I am grateful. I was just so…” You swallow thickly, tearing your eyes away from the pictures, “Surprised that you did all this. For me.” You fight the tears pricking your eyes. 
“You mean that?” 
You swallow the bile rising in your throat. “Yes. I do.” 
“Good. Y’know all I ever wanted was us to be together? When you broke up with me, I admit, I was angry. I thought you were fucking somebody else.” He paces the length of the room and that’s when your gaze falls to the gun he has tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “But I realised you couldn’t possibly.”
You brace yourself when his gaze falls to his handiwork on the walls. 
“But then…” He inhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I saw you with him.” His volume rises steadily. “I send you gifts, I send you letters, I give you clues, I even draw blood for you and you repay me by parading around another man?!” 
You cry out when he delivers a blow to the left side of your face, a crack resounding in the room. Your skin blisters red hot where he strikes you, you swear he’s torn open some skin on your cheek. It sends your head spinning, you figure you’re already nursing a concussion, this just makes it worse. 
“That’s not-”
“Don’t you interrupt me.” He spits, his face close enough for you to smell the bourbon on his breath. “You had him come to my house today, try to scare me? He thinks he’s a big powerful man, FBI… that badge doesn’t mean shit, he doesn’t know who I am.” 
“Jordan-”
“What was it about him anyway? You could’ve had me, you know, we could’ve been a dynasty.” He’s grandstanding. Always did have a problem with his fragile ego. He turns his back to you, scanning the pictures on the wall. “He’ll get what’s coming to him. I’m having it taken care of.” He mutters.
Your blood runs cold. “What do you mean?” 
“Oh, sweetheart. You’re not stupid, you couldn’t possible have thought that I’d let him live?” 
Your heart skips. The ‘other guy’ that was to be taken care of - Hotch.
“Jordan, no. It wasn’t like that, I swear.” He turns slowly, rage behind his eyes that’s only thinly veiled by a psychotic smile. “There’s nothing between us! Please don’t do this. I’m begging you, don’t do this.” You plead.
“Why do you care?”
“-What?”
“Why… do you… care?” His eyes are fanatical, nostrils flared. “If nothing happened between you, why do you care what happens to him?” 
You know why now.
“Because I don’t want anyone to die! Him, Emily, anybody! I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” You stutter through your sobs. “Please don’t do this.” 
“You don’t want him to die? How stupid do you think I am?” He grabs the back of your head and directs you to a picture of you and Hotch on the gazebo - the day you’d met. “You look at him like that because he’s a friend?” He spits. 
He’s right, though - that’s the thing. 
You don’t know how you didn’t realise sooner, how you didn’t see it sooner. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t see your own face when you were around him, but the way you look at him, your smile. 
You don’t think you’ve looked at anybody like that before. 
Tears roll down your cheeks now, eyes welling over. 
He smooths over your hair, straightening out his own shirt. “I will make it quick though. Humane. I owe him that much.” 
“What?” 
“I owe him. How do you think you got here?” When you can’t formulate the words he continues, “Hm, let me spell it out for you.” He continues his rapid pacing, fingers compulsively scratching his neck. “We break up, you betray me, so I leave the country. I come back, try to get you back, you betray me, again. FBI man comes into the picture, his girlfriend feels neglected, said girlfriend then conveniently runs into me at a bar after an argument, confides in me and starts sleeping with me. She’s a real peach, though. Total Type-A, wouldn’t let me fuck her raw.” He adds, rolling his eyes. 
You feel nauseous. 
You wonder if Hotch knows. 
He goes on, “I fuck her, she tells me everything I want to know. Including the fact that she thought he was cheating on her.” He laughs bitterly. “I thought we might have had something when you called me a few months ago, remember that? That was a good time.” Your stomach turns when you think back to the worst mistake you’d ever made. “But then you stopped taking my calls, I put two together from there, figured you were fucking him. I knew then that he had to die.” He rolls his eyes. 
His smile reveals a row of eerily straight teeth but there’s nothing behind his eyes except a sick kind of glee. 
“It wasn’t like that, I swear to you, he never touched me.” You plead with him, desperately. You reckon with the fact that if you couldn’t regain control of this situation, Hotch would die. “Look, I’ll do anything.” 
“Anything?” 
“I swear. Anything. Just call it off, please.” He considers your statement for a moment, kneeling down between your knees again. He makes a point to flash you his gun, the silver glinting, before reaching for a switchblade that’s tucked into his back pocket. You flinch when he brings it purposely closer to you but he cuts you free. 
“I’m going to test you. Stay here with me. You run, I kill him.” He lays the knife flat against your bruised cheek, “Then I kill you.” He whispers. You wince when the sharp edge breaks a thin layer of skin and you feel a warm trail of blood on your cheek. 
You nod desperately, agreeing. “I swear. I’ll do anything, just call it off.” 
Just as he finishes cutting you free, his phone vibrates against the wooden table under the window. He excuses himself, face lighting up for a moment. You try your best to hear, but the voice on the other end is indistinguishable. 
Jordan’s responses are short. 
“Fitz.”
“Hello?” He presses the phone closer to his ear. “Lawrence? It’s done?” He smiles at the response from the other side. 
“30 minutes.” He hangs up and rattles off a quick text message before setting the phone down again. 
He sighs, concealing his unhinged glee when he turns to look at you. “Bad news babe.” He says tutting, knowingly with a disturbing smile. “I know I said I’d call it off but,” he waves the phone in the air, “it’s already done. Your friend, Aaron?”
Oh please, no. Don’t say it. 
“He’s dead.” 
———
Once the first bang reverberates in the nurses’ station, time seems to move in slow motion. McCall yells for everybody to get down, cocking his gun. Panic erupts for a moment before everybody falls to the ground, the first shot already fired. 
Where it comes from, who fires first, it isn’t clear, the whole thing in reality is over in a matter of seconds but time still seems to stop. 
Now, McCall kneels over a dead body, hyper-aware of eyes on him, “He’s gone.” He whispers. 
A hand grips his shoulder from behind as he stares down at the corpse in front of him laying in a pool of blood, three bullet holes in the chest. 
His ears still ring. 
“Hey. Emily’s fine. I had two cops posted outside her door.” He turns to find Hotch, who can’t tear his eyes away from Officer Lawrence’s dead body in front of them. 
They’re about to let medical personnel clear out the area and wheel him away in a body bag when Hotch spots something in Lawrence’s scrub pockets. 
“Wait! Hold it a sec?” He asks, retrieving a piece of paper and cellphone from Lawrence. They make their way back to Emily’s hospital room in unison.
McCall looks at him, puzzled. “You okay?” 
“Yeah, why?”
“That was the first person you ever shot, right? He’s dead. You’re allowed to not be okay.” 
“I’m fine - I need to focus. I need to get her back.” He’d be lying if he said his hands weren’t trembling but he has more pressing matters on his hand. The need to get you back safe and sound outweighs any personal conflict for him. He unfolds the piece of paper, muttering aloud a series of numbers. “It’s a phone number. What’d you wanna bet it’s Jordan?” He does a double take when he sees his own name written in capital letters on the other side of the paper, passing it to McCall. 
“Some vendetta, hm? He was sent to kill you.” McCall takes the phone from Hotch and starts to dial when Hotch places a stalling arm on his. 
“Wait.”
He dials Garcia’s number deftly, asks her to search for a location on the number before they call it, but to his disappointment, it’s a prepaid. He then has Garcia set up a track and trace before he lets McCall dial the number.
“Ready, Garcia?” 
The phone rings three times before it’s answered, Jordan’s voice curt and straight to the point, assuming it’s Lawrence. Hotch can hear Garcia’s typing and beeping but when McCall doesn’t say anything, Jordan takes matters into his own hands. 
“It’s done?” Jordan asks outright. 
“Yes.” McCall replies with little inflection, keeping his voice even so as to not arouse suspicion. Jordan gives McCall a time - 30 minutes, before snapping the phone shut. 
McCall tries the number again, but it’s dead. Destroyed. 
“Garcia, anything?” Hotch asks desperately. 
“No, sir, it was barely long enough to triangulate the call, I’m sorry.” 
“Keep searching, Garcia, we need this address. Look for something in isolation, out of the way. It’s gotta mean something to him.”
“Yes, sir. Typing as we speak.”
Hotch rubs an exasperated hand over his beard, “Y’know the media can’t get wind of this, if he has access to a TV or radio and sees I’m alive? He’ll kill her.” He shudders as the words leave his mouth, making way for the possibility that he does not want to reckon with. 
You might already be dead. 
He dials quickly “Chief Barnes? I need a favour.”
———
He’s been pacing the length of Emily’s hospital room for the past twenty minutes, waiting for Chief Barnes to call in every favour he can to keep the media at bay so they can keep up the charade. He increases the TV volume opposite Emily’s bed when he sees a news report flash across the scene. 
“Good evening, everybody. We come to you live tonight with some breaking news.” 
He braces himself. Did Barnes manage to cover the hit on him?
“The daughters of two US Ambassadors have reportedly been involved in what appears to be a multi-car collision in the Virginia countryside, earlier tonight.” 
Two pictures appear side by side of you and Emily. 
“The daughter of Ambassador Prentiss was rushed to hospital earlier tonight and remains in critical condition at Bridgepoint Hospital after sustaining multiple injuries. The daughter of the US Ambassador to France however, is reported to be missing. The Ambassador himself is reportedly unaware of his daughter’s condition, presumed to be en-route to Paris tonight. Three people were pronounced dead at the scene, including Metro PD officers Evan Matthews and Howard Denton.”
He waits anxiously for any mention of his own name or Jordan, Lawrence, but the anchor passes over to the correspondent.
He sighs in relief, just as his phone rings. 
“Garcia?”
“I think I finally have a location on Fitzgerald. I checked for any and all properties under Senator Fitzgerald’s name, his second and third wives, his spawn’s name, even the Fitzgerald Family Trust. Nada.” She pauses for breath. “So. I dug down deeper. I searched instead for any properties under Sloan Marie Fitzgerald - still nothing. But then I chanced a search under her maiden name, Hamilton, and wouldn’t you know - the Hamilton family had a cabin between Rock Creek Park and Montgomery County. The late Mrs. Fitzgerald would take him to said cabin most summers before she died.”
“Alright, good work. Send us-”
“I'm not even going to let you finish that sentence, because it’s quite frankly insulting. Coordinates are on their way to you now, Sirs.”
Hotch huffs a laugh, it’s the most he can muster right now. He knows he owes Garcia a massive bouquet of flowers after all this is over. 
He grabs McCall by his jacket. “Suit up. We’ve got an address.” 
———
‘He’s dead.’ 
The onset of shock and unmistakable rise of nausea had caused you to retch violently and empty the contents of your stomach into the nearest toilet. 
Your legs had given out then, and you’re now planted on a dusty armchair, finding yourself staring into nothingness, your body still stinging with the shock and injuries you’d sustained. 
It’s all you’ve done for the past fourty something minutes. The blood stays rushing in your ears, and the pounding in your head is unrelenting. You haven’t said a word since, your body’s energy drained. You’re almost catatonic, unable to even shed a few tears for Hotch’s death. 
He’s dead. He’s dead because of you. 
You think back to the first time you met, he’d been so bright eyed and optimistic. Disarming. You think about the way he’d told you about his hopes and dreams, his plans for the future as a profiler. He’d had so much to live for. All of that had been ripped away from him because he’d gotten involved in your case. It was your fault he was dead. 
And you didn’t know how you were going to make it out of this. Your limbs feel like concrete - fatigue, shock and grief make it hard to formulate any kind of rational thought. Jordan’s hand comes to smooth the top of your head once again, but the gesture is far from comforting or loving. 
“It’s okay. You’ll see in time, this was for the best. This way, there aren’t any distractions.” He whispers. He’s been pacing the length of the cabin, repeatedly checking his second burner as though he’s awaiting some news. 
He resumes his pacing when you finally break your silence, your voice hoarse. 
“You killed a man.” You whisper. 
“What’s that?” 
“You killed a man.” You sob quietly. “You had someone killed, that doesn’t mean anything to you?” 
“Oh I did more than just have your little lover killed. I made sure your father and that Prentiss bitch were taken care of too.” 
Your vision tunnels, a high-pitched whine penetrating your skull. You feel like the ground has just been ripped from under you, like you’re falling. You can feel your heart shatter, the splintering fragments of your life piercing your skin. 
“My father? He’s not here. He’s-”
He glances at his watch. “-On his way to Paris?” You feel the bile rising again. “I know. Like I said, I’m having it all taken care of. They’re all dead, babe - or will be, soon.” He brings a hand to your face, brushing his thumb over your cut. “Don’t you see? I did it so I could have you all to myself.” 
The glee in his voice provokes something in you, a rage you’ve never felt before. You figure you have nothing else to lose, everything and everyone you ever loved is dead, you’d either fight and die quicker, or you’d stay and die slowly. 
In a move that stuns even you, you spit on Jordan’s face and bring your hand up to strike him notwithstanding the piercing pain in your ribs. The flat of your palm makes sharp contact with his bearded cheek. The sound echoes in the room, and your own hand stings from the force, but a minute satisfaction settles into your bones. 
He takes a minute to steady himself, but when he turns to look at you, his eyes flash with something you’ve never seen in a person before. In one fell swoop, he drags you to stand by your hair, pushing you into a glass frame against the wall. 
The glass shatters, puncturing the skin on your cheek and forearm where you bear the brunt of the impact. He lands two blows to your stomach, causing you to keel over, winding you. The pain blooms to your already bruised ribs, your breaths ragged. He grabs you then by the throat, pinning you against the wall, your breaths coming short and constricted. 
He shakes you against the wall, his hand tight around your throat, cutting off your air. “You ever pull something like that again, I’ll kill you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.” He growls in a low voice. “Do you understand me?” You can feel the blood pumping in your face, your eyes starting to bulge. 
You drive your knee into his crotch with all the force you can muster, exactly like Hotch had taught you. You then go for his shin that only gives you mere seconds to grab your breath when he lets you go in pain. 
You fall with him, knees giving out when you gasp for breath, and when you see him charging towards you again, you reach to your right for a dusty glass vase that sits on a single table. You manage to get yourself back on your feet right as he’s about to make contact with you again, the butt of the vase smashing into his skull. 
He cries out in pain as he falls to the ground again on all fours, blood streaming down his face. A gash on his forehead seeps blood and several pieces of glass are embedded in his face. 
You’re still trying to catch your own breath when you spot the silver glint of his 9mm catch the light in his back pocket. 
This is your chance.
You half-crawl, half-run to him, landing a violent kick to his stomach to strike him down. You grab the gun from his back pocket, stumbling a little from the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your hands trembling. You check the magazine and load it as fast as your hands will allow.
You grip the Beretta just as Hotch had taught you, wrapping your dominant hand around the magazine, your index finger parallel to the chamber. Your other hand wraps around your dominant, as you stand over him.
“Get up.” You snarl. “Get up, NOW!” You order him through your coughs. 
He turns around slowly, slipping twice on his way up, groaning with the exertion. His face mirrors your own, a gash on his lip and forehead, blood streaming down his cheek. 
He chuckles darkly, revealing a set of shark-like teeth that are covered in his blood. “Oh… you think you’re hot shit. You even know how to use that thing? Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” 
Your body aches feverishly and you swear you could pass out at any minute, vision blurry. You can feel your grip loosening and you’re trying to centre yourself when Jordan takes advantage of your momentary slip. 
He lunges for you in a flash, knife in hand. 
———
“We’re about a mile out, I want sirens and lights off. He can’t know we’re coming.” Hotch says into his radio. He’s watching the road ahead as they get deeper into the woods, the off-road terrain making it hard to keep control of the SUV. 
They’re backed up at rear by three MPD police cars, Chief Fuller’s attempt at making nice with Hotch after their earlier altercation.
He swallows thickly, his mouth like cotton. He knows he can’t afford one wrong move, not here. Not with you. He needs to get you back. He made a promise to Emily. 
He’ll die trying. 
He keeps a firm grip on your chain, rubbing it one last time for steady luck before tucking it into his shirt pocket. 
A clearing of trees reveals another path to them. It leads off into the distance, to a small wooden cabin around 80 feet away. It’s illuminated by amber light emanating from a single window. 
“Alright, guys. Nice and slow, headlights off, we’re gonna dismount now. Everybody out.” He whispers into the comms once they clear another 50 feet. 
Leaves rustle underneath their feet as they stealthily approach the cabin, guns cocked. Hotch has three cops flanking him and McCall brings up the rear, covering the back exit. 
They’re almost at the entrance when a loud bang resounds from inside, and Hotch short circuits, his knuckles white around his glock. 
Inside the cabin, you send Jordan flying with a shot to his shoulder, the smell of gun smoke burning your nostrils. Your hands tremble violently, your mind temporarily blanking - you feel like you’re swimming. Your ears ring from the noise, a high-pitched whine piercing your brain. 
There’s another bang almost immediately after Jordan stumbles backwards but you’re sure you only fired one shot. 
Jordan’s body in front of you is your only focal point, so much so that it’s only when you see McCall and two cops approach him writhing on the floor that you come back into your body. 
You realise the second bang had been them kicking down the front door. Your hands on the Beretta loosen just slightly and you let out a deep exhale. The voices in the room are still swimming as your brain slowly catches up. 
“Grab her.” McCall’s voice calls out. He shouts into the comms that he needs medics, and suddenly there’s a distinct feeling of a hand on your wrist and a body next to you. You reassure yourself that Jordan is on the ground so you let your hands fall limp, dropping the gun and it falls to the ground with a sharp clack. Your eyes are still trained on McCall pressing on Jordan’s wound. 
“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me.” The voice cuts through your still-ringing ears. 
You know that voice. 
You’d know that voice anywhere. 
Your heart thunders, and your lips start to tremble as you try to reconcile everything you thought was reality with what’s really in front of you. 
You turn slowly to find an achingly familiar pair of warm hazel eyes. 
He’s alive. 
“Aaron?” You sob. You reach out for him but he catches you before you can stumble, his arms steady around your waist. He whispers into your hair, bringing a protective hand up to cradle your head as you sob into his chest. 
“It’s okay. I got you. I told you I’d come for you.” 
His voice is the last thing you hear before you black out, your body finally offering you some well-earned reprieve.
———
Tags:​ @oreogutz @andromedasstarship @galacticnerd-78 @izzyl13 @bananabucky @crying-river @purpledragonturtles @gabbysblogthingy​ @archiveofadragon​ @yoshigguk @acidicbloody @jeor @ivebeenthinkingboutu​ @bauslut @averyhotchner @vashanatasha @hotchwhore15 @pjmjams @slxtherinchxser
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ofstarsandvibranium · 3 years
Text
Shall I Count the Ways: XLIV
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader
Summary: You and Spencer are best friends. You’re in love with him and he’s in love with you, but neither of you know it nor decide to tell the other about their feelings. All the love is there, just hidden in the things you say and the things you do with one another.
Shall I Count the Ways Masterlist
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44. "You don't have to pretend with me."
When you arrived at Spencer's, you found him staring blankly ahead as he sat at his desk. You called for him multiple times, but he didn't look your way. After setting your things down, you went over to him, cupping his face, causing him to jolt in surprise.
"Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"No, I'm sorry."
"Are you okay?" you looked at him with concern.
He gives you a smile that you know is fake, "Sure."
You sighed, moving to sit at the edge of his desk, "You don't have to pretend with me, Speedy. What's going on?" you reach out and move a strand of his curly brown hair away from his face, "We're all being reassigned."
"What?" you looked at him in disbelief, "All of you as in-"
"Well, not entirely all of us. JJ, Matt, and Luke are staying with the BAU, Rossi is forcibly being retired, Tara is getting fired, but Garcia, Emily, and I are being reassigned to different departments. It's-It's all wrong."
"I'm sorry, honey," you leaned in and kissed his head, "So where are you being reassigned?"
"I'll be teaching for the FBI's educational outreach program," he says dejectedly.
"Well, at least it's something you love and are good at, right?"
"I suppose," he murmurs and then shakes his head, "Sorry. I asked you to come over for dinner," he stands up looking for his phone, "and I didn't even order the food yet-"
You have Spencer sit back down, "Speedy Reidy, always rushing. It's okay, Spencer. I'm not really hungry right now, are you?"
"Not really."
"Okay, so I think we should open whatever alcohol you have here, curl up on the couch and just chat. Maybe some kissing here and there," you give him a mischievous look and a giggle.
Spencer's mood immediately picks up, "I think I can go for some kissing."
"That so?" You slide off his desk and move to straddle his lap, your lips hovering over his, "Maybe we should skip the wine and chatting and head straight to the kissing?"
He gives you a sly smirk as he replies, "Sounds good to me," and then presses his lips to yours in a fervent kiss.
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gingerale2017 · 3 years
Text
“Now, Kiss!”
Based on this hc I made earlier :)
3474 words
Fandom: The Lunar Chronicles
Pairing: Kai x Cinder
Fluff
Description:
Kai knew that the annoyance was part of having a sibling, but he hated it all the same. Nainsi would tease him about everything and when she figured out his crush on Cinder Linh, it only got worse. When Cinder calls Kai on the day that Nainsi brings some friends, she suspects that something might be cooking in the pot. Is she right, or are they friends for another agonizing day?
(Also I decided to name her Nainsi bc I’m too tired to brainstorm anything else I like it)
“WAKE UP KAI!” was the first thing Kai heard after being unfortunately interrupted by a sweet dream involving a certain someone. He was awake now, with a 100-pound pillow being tossed onto his head. Groaning, he flipped to his other side, squeezing his eyes shut as if that would make the tiny monster go away.
“KAI WE’RE GONNA BE LATE!” Nainsi yelled. She threw another pillow at him and when he didn’t show any signs of stopping, she yanked the cover out. Thank the stars for sheets.
“Stars, what time is it?” Kai managed to ask. Knowing his family it was probably five in the morning.
“Seven-thirty, ” he groaned again. It was way too early to get out of bed. Plus, the school didn’t start until eight-thirty so they were very much not late. He tucked his head in the pillow and wished for his sister to magically vanish away into whatever drama she obsessed with now.
“KAI! GET OUT THE BED RIGHT NOW!” Kai turned his head to glare at her. She glared right back.
“You know Cinder gets up super early for whatever reason. That’s something you two can get along with, ” instead of rolling her eyes like she usually did when Kai talked about Cinder, Nainsi's lips formed into a coy smile.
He cursed.
She somehow smiled even further and cocked her head, “Got any plans with her tonight?”
He could feel his ears turn red, and he tried to kill her on the spot with his eyes. His little sister took the smart choice and sprinted out of his room with Kai on her heels.
She screamed as he followed her down the stairs into the kitchen, seeking refuge next to their father’s chair. Kai could tell he was annoyed by the posture he was in and the way he took another sip of his coffee.
Nainsi shot Kai a smug smile that he wished to wipe off her face, “are you gonna wear pajamas to school, Kaito?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Ah, yes, but then you’ll spend the rest of your life in jail and will never see your precious Cinder again.”
He glared at her once more and left to go change. When he came back, the aroma of fried eggs was so strong that it filled the whole house.
His father was humming a tune while seasoning the eggs with pepper, now in a less annoyed mood. There were two plates on the kitchen counter already equipped with breakfast. Nainsi rebelliously made cereal instead of eating eggs. Kai, on the other hand, was grateful for the free breakfast.
He sat grabbed a ate and sat at the barstool, preparing to dig into his meal. Dad wanted to make small talk instead, “Good morning, son, and you're welcome for the delicious breakfast that I so graciously made for my marvelous kids.”
“Good morning, father, and us marvelous kids are so grateful for this delicious meal that makes caught us by surprise. But unfortunately, one of your children prefers Lucky Charms to you’re amazing breakfast, ” Kai responded after swallowing his first bite of eggs.
Nainsi looked up from her cereal, “that’s because I don’t like eggs, they’re disgusting.”
“You don’t like anything, ” she stuck her tongue out. Kai picked up his plate and placed it in the sink. Unsurprisingly, he was still hungry, so he went to see what was in the fridge.
“Kai, why don’t you ever want up early?” his father asked.
“Um, because-”
“Because he’s up all night thinking about making out with Cinder in the back of her BMW, ” the little monster interrupted before he could continue. He grabbed a tomato and slammed the fridge shut.
He then threw the tomato at her, “two strikes, Nainsi.”
She dodged the tomato and looked back at Kai with big round eyes.
“Hey, it's too early to fight with your sister just yet, ” interjected his father, “also, if you couldn’t tell, your mother is working double shifts at the hospital today so she wouldn’t be coming back tonight and I have a business trip. I know you have some friends coming over today, Nainsi, so behave better than usual. Both of you.”
“What friends are coming over, Nainsi?” Kai mused, an idea forming in his head.
“Just Geovanna and Emily. Possibly Ben but he hasn’t confirmed yet,” she answered, “why?”
“Just wondering. Anyways, we gotta go now,” Kai pulled on his sweatshirt from the laundry and headed towards the front, “bye dad.”
He nodded at Kai, currently preoccupied with his second mug of coffee while Nainsi rushed to follow Kai.
It was freezing out, as it usually was during winter in Maryland, but today was unusually cold. He turned on the car while Nainsi hopped in the passenger seat.
“Are we gonna go or what?” she barked.
“In a minute. Let me close my eyes for a bit.”
“You always do that, you lazy bum.”
“Your insults are getting drier and drier Nainsi.”
“Just go, ” this time she hit his forearm with her binder from nowhere. Repeatedly.
“Okay, stop hitting me. Ow.”
They drove off towards the school. Although Nainsi lived to tease Kai, they got along pretty well. They talked about this new show and had similar opinions on it during the short car ride. Once they were at Nainsi’s school and she was gone, then he could start playing the radio.
He bid his goodbye’s and see you later’s and now was off to his school.
᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽
Kai was unsurprisingly drained during the last period of the day. He fiddled with the corner of his notes to keep himself awake for at least ten more minutes. When he felt himself starting to doze off, he began to replay the day so far.
When he got to school, Cinder was marked absent which made his day worse. He always looked forward to hearing her sarcastic remarks or her smiling at one of his witty jokes.
Anyways, she was gone and he was sad, but Cress wasn’t. She happily explained to Kai that she and Thorne were going on a date Sunday. He was happy for her, truly, but all he could think about was how he can unsuccessfully tell his feeling to Cinder.
Not telling her felt like he was forgetting something important every day, except he was not forgetting. He knew exactly what he was doing and it killed him, but he also didn’t want to ruin the good that they have now. Then Kai would think about how it would be better and his thought would circle around and around.
After meeting up with Cress, they endured through the first two periods they shared, Scarlet and Thorne joining during the second. Although he had plenty of friends to talk to and enjoy, he couldn't help missing Cinder.
She's gone for one day and you feel like this? he thought, get a break. The little voice inside Kai's head was right.
Then the last bell rang, startling him. He stood up and began to pack his things. Then he fast-walked out and left.
"Kai!" he heard someone call.
Iko and Cress gestured at Kai to come to their lockers. He obliged.
"Look, Winter's birthday is in a couple of weeks, during the break. We want to throw a party because it's her sweet sixteen! We already have all the decorations ready, I know it's early, but long story short, can we throw it at your place?" his blue-haired friend asked as innocently as possible. Although she had to change her posture, tone, and expression to look innocent, Cress had that personality as her default.
"Please, Kai?” Cress pleaded and she knew what she was doing. It was always impossible to say no to her without feeling guilty. Or maybe it was just Kai who hated saying no.
“Of course! My parents are going to their parents during that week, so I’ll just ask to stay behind.”
“Yay! Thank you so much!” Iko hugged him tightly, “also not a word to Winger. It’s going to be a surprise.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Yep. I got to go to my job interview, remember what I was telling you about. Ah, the chance to work a boutique, what a dream,” and with that, his friend walked away.
“Hey Cress, did you hear anything about Cinder, ” he pressed.
She nodded, “Adri was mad at her again so she’s stuck at the garage, ” the blonde began to nibble in her fingernails. Noticing the bad habit, she brought he hand down.
“Oh, ” he hated Cinder’s stepmother, he truly did. And it killed him he couldn’t do anything about it.
They walked silently down the hall. Girls batted their lashes and some greeted him but he ignored it as usual.
“Do you think Adri would let Cinder free tonight?” he asked, now in the parking lot of the school.
“If you’re the one taking her anywhere then, of course, Adri would.”
Cress, Cinder, and Winter all skipped one grade. Cinder and Winter skilled first, and Cress skipped seventh. Cress was the smartest of them all, granted, and they don’t have a driver's license. So Cress got a ride with her older brother Jacin, and so did Winter (Jacin’s girlfriend). Cinder usually rode with Thorne, but on the good days, she rides with Kai.
They reached Kai’s car which was near Jacin’s car and being the super over-protective brother he was, he glared Kai down. Kai found this confusing because his feelings for Cinder were quite obvious, but then he saw Thorne parked next to Kai.
Thorne was currently ‘interested’ in Cress which made her a flustered mess.
Cress walked quickly to Jacin’s car and hopped in the back. Kai called goodbye and started his car. Then there was a rap on his window.
“What?” he asked Thorne, “I got to pick up my sister.”
“What flowers does Cress like?” he lifted an eyebrow at his friend, “not like that,” what Thorne did not know was that Cress told Kai everything about their date. Perhaps Thorne wants to keep it secret until then.
“Uh-huh.”
“Just answer the question!”
He shifted in his seat, “I dunno. Ask Jacin.”
“Great advice,” Thorne deadpanned.
“Get her roses. Those are super romantic and she’s all about the romantic gestures.”
“Nah, too cheesy. Pretend it's Cinder, what would she like?”
“Cinder doesn’t like flowers. Wrenches, however, are much appreciated.”
“I think I’ll just get roses.”
“Yeah, now move, my sister is waiting for me, ” Kai rolled up the windows and drove out.
Time passed very quickly and the next thing he knew, Nainsi was climbing in the passenger seat with her three friends in the back seat.
“I thought it was only two people, ” he whispered harshly.
She shrugged, “Ben decided to come.”
“What are you gonna feed them.”
“Pizza.”
“Who’s money?”
“Yours,” he shoved Nainsi but she shoved back.
“Fine but you owe me.”
“We’ll see, ” she turned in the seat to talk with her friends.
᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽
Once everyone was settled inside and pizza was ordered he began to brainstorm ways Kai could punish Nainsi for this morning.
Then, like a light bulb, a perfect idea formed into his head. He walked into the laundry room where a basket filled with his clothes was waiting for him.
He pulled off his shirt, grabbed the basket, and headed into the living room. His sister was watching a realistic drama with her friends, although Kai wasn’t sure the drama wasn’t ‘realistic’ at all.
This plan happened before on accident with the same friends and they just stared at him while Nainsi shooed him out. Little did he know that her friends would just start talking about him and his looks. When Nainsi told him this, he groaned and whined about how he got enough of this from school. So when Nainsi had people over, Kai would camp in his room to avoid the awkwardness.
Now, he knows how her friends would react. And how she would react.
But before he could do anything, the phone in his pocket vibrated, making him turn a one-eighty back into the laundry.
It was actually Cinder calling and he answered quickly, “hello?”
“Uh, Kai?”
“Yes?”
“Can you do me a favor? Please?” it sounded like she was outside where it was currently raining.
“Yes, of course, what do you need?”
“I need a ride. I’m stuck here in the rain, by myself. Also, this is going to sound weird but, can I also stay with you for an hour and a half?” she defeated like she lost an argument.
“I can pick you up and you can stay with me. Nainsi has some friends over but it should be fine, ” Kai wondered if he sounded too cheery.
“Ok, thanks. I’m at the gas station outside your neighborhood, by the way.”
“Great, see you in a few minutes. Bye.”
“Bye, ” she hung up.
Kai hurried to put on a shirt and grab two rain jackets from the close, just in case Cinder needed one. Then he walked into the living room and out the front door, only to come back in. He forgot to tell Nainsi where he was going.
“Hey Nainsi, I got to pick up someone. I’ll be back soon though, ” she nodded, mouth full of pizza crust, “uh, don’t open the door to strangers. Bye.”
This time he didn’t go back inside after he left. He drove out of the neighborhood, slowly because it was pouring buckets and he could barely see three feet in front of him. After an eternity, Kai finally reached the gas station and parked under the large roof.
He didn’t even see Cinder come in, only heard her, sacring him witless. She smiled apologetically while tossing a white plastic bag onto her lap. It was full of snacks.
“Thanks for coming to get me, I owe you one now, ” she said, handing him one of the bags of chips.
“Of course, Cinder, I would do anything for you, ” the corner of her lip curved upwards as Kai’s cheeks heated, “that came out wrong. I meant that you’re my friend and such. Like the good moral movies where like the one friend reminds the other what friendship is truly about?”
Cinder snorted, “Like My Little Pony?”
“Isn’t that a TV show?”
“Same thing.”
“Is not.”
“Whatever, I know what you meant. Peony had made me watch enough TV shows and movies to last a lifetime.”
“Okay then, ” the rain seemed to finally thin during their conversation making it much more comfortable conditions for Kai to drive in.
Cinder had a habit of talking with her mouth full and the ‘good manners kid’ inside of him cringed. He hoped he hid it well.
Anyways Cinder explained why she was soaking wet at a gas station abandoned with snacks. She was bored and hungry and wanted something to do. So she walked to the gas station, alone, for snacks and a good walk.
Kai raised an eyebrow at that, “you live far away from me, how and why did you walk miles just for a bag of junk food?”
“People can do miraculous things when they are bored, Kai.”
“Yes, and penguins can fly if they really set their minds to it.”
“They are a bird so, hey, nothing’s impossible.”
“Who drove you?”
Cinder shoved a chip in her mouth, “Pearl,” she admitted reluctantly.
“What?”
“I skipped lunch and she knew I was hungry so she drove me here and left me while I was getting snacks. She also called me and said that it was a prank she couldn’t resist.”
“Oh, ” Kai said as they were pulling in his driveway. It was drizzling now so there was no need for the rain jackets.
“I’m also supposed to be at the garage until later so that's why I have to stay that long. If I come back early, Adri would get mad, and I don’t feel like getting yelled at today.”
“Ok,” he said as he walked out of the car.
He opened the door for Cinder and followed her inside. Nainsi and her friends did not move from before he left, but they switched shows. His little sister locked eyes with Cinder, immediately getting up.
“Hey Cinder. I did not know you two were hanging out today?” She said conspiratorially.
Cinder nodded, “yeah it was kind of sudden. Also, Peony is not with me, sorry.”
“That’s okay. I’m going back to my friends now. So you guys can ‘hang out’” Nainsi emphasized the last part then ran off to her friends.
“So, um, what do you want to do for an hour and a half?” he asked.
Cinder turned to him, “I don’t know, what do you want to do.”
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s just go to your room then.”
“Good idea, ” Cinder has been to his house enough to know the layout. He followed her to his room where she fell on the bed.
“Working under cars all day isn't good for the back you know, ” she explained, muffled by a pillow.
“I would expect so because your posture is not up to standards.”
She snorted, “I guess that’s true, ” Cinder sat up and leaned on the headboards, “sorry for taking up your space. And for calling you. Stars, this was a bad idea, you already have people here. I’m like an intruder-”
“Why are you apologizing so much? I don’t care if you light my room on fire, ” Kai accused. It was true, ever since he met her, she would apologize for every single tiny thing, as if every single wrong thing she did was unacceptable. He moved towards her to place a hand on hers, “it’s okay, Cinder. And calling me was a good idea because you saved me from the little demons.”
Cinder let out a genuine laugh that ended with a genuine smile. A smile that never ceased to make his heart twitch. He bashfully realized that he was still holding her hand.
Kai let go but she only grabbed his hand back. He watched her intertwine their fingers, trying to ignore the strong pounding of his heart. He dared to look up and realized that Cinder was staring at him.
He looked into her chocolate eyes that seemed to shine with stars. He wanted to dive into that sea of brown and lie there for eternity. As long she was there.
“Now kiss!” cried a shrill voice. Kai jumped away from Cinder, noticing that she copied his actions.
“Aw, come on just kiss already, the tension was so thick, ” said... Peony?
Cinder’s eyes widened, “Peony, what- how did- why are you here?”
“Well first, I was invited to the sleepover but I had volleyball practice so I had to come late. I just got here. And second, I saw Nainsi sneaking up here so I followed, and oh my stars, we ruined the money, didn’t we?” Peony looked at Nainsi.
“We did. Sorry guys, we’ll go now.”
“Yes, now you can kiss in peace, ” the girls left, leaving Kai very flustered. He glanced at Cinder and saw that her cheeks were also tinted pink.
“So, do you want something to eat, ” he asked finally. He could not bear the silence anymore.
“Yes, ” she nodded, although they already are in the car.
They got up to leave but before he could open the door, Cinder grabbed his wrist and pulls him down. The next thing he knew they were kissing. It was quick and soft and amazing. It felt like everything suddenly clicked and the world was righted. Like the stars finally aligned.
She pulled away and Kai could feel the heat in his ears. His heart was beating so loud that he was sure Cinder could hear it as well.
“Let’s go get some food, ” she breathed and opened the door. She was still holding his wrist, he realized. He intertwined their hands like before, but this time it felt more meaningful. It was like their hands now signified that they were more than friends. That they loved each other, even if they hadn't admitted it yet. But he could feel it and was sure that she could too.
They entered the kitchen and Cinder began to talk about food options but all he could think about was the kiss. He wanted to kiss her again. And to hold her.
Someone cleared their throat behind them, making them turn around. Nainsi, Peony, Emily, Geovanna, and Ben all stood with knowing faces. Nainsi smirked, “finally.”
Peony looked like she was about to explode with happiness, “I already told Iko. She’s ecstatic.”
Neither Kai nor Cinder said anything. Nainsi probably knew because of the looks on their red faces and told Peony. Then Peony told Iko and Iko probably told everyone in their friend group.
So now everyone knows.
“Just to be sure, you guys did kiss, right?” asked Emily.
Slowly, Cinder nodded. Kai opted to stare at his feet. Peony whooped, Nainsi squealed, Cinder blushed, and Kai groaned.
“Ok now we will leave you alone, for real, ” Nainsi promised, dragging her friends away.
“Why are there so many people here?” Kai murmured then turned to Cinder. She leaned on his shoulder. They were still holding each other's hand, “I really want to kiss you again, by the way.”
“Me too.”
“Okay then, ” he cupped her cheek with his free hand and kissed her. Cinder squeezed his hand affectionately. He once again felt like everything was where it was supposed to be, where he was supposed to be, and that was with Cinder.
Tagging: @just2bubbly @winterrhayle @jacihayle @shelbylmkaider @cerenoya @a-salting-the-world @ladyvesuvia @not-the-founder-of-rome @greenalmond @zephyr-thedragon @cinderswrench @cindersassasin @strawberry-seraph (these are just one-shot tags so please tell me if you want to be added or remove for these types of fics <3)
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For a prompt, maybe Bobby having a job in high school where he teaches guitar to kids and Emily and Mitch mistakenly sign Luke up for lessons? (Bobby just doesn't sound like a teenager on the phone) Belated congratulations on the 500 milestone, btw ✨
Here you go, friend! I hope you like it! My first jatp AU fic lol :)
Read on ao3 here:
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Here’s the thing: Luke already knows how to play the guitar.
Has he ever taken a lesson? Officially? No, of course not, because he’s not a nerd. But he’s been learning from YouTube tutorials for almost six years now, been writing his own stuff for four, been the lead singer and guitarist of an epic, legendary rock band for two. He’d say he’s pretty well covered in the “knowing how to play the guitar” department, without some crusty old guy showing him the chords to songs no one’s listened to since the 60s in the grimy basement of a church two hours a week.
And yet, here he stands, on the sidewalk outside said church, guitar case in hand and a truly menacing grimace on his face, staring up at the hand-painted sign on the door detailing “Guitar lessons for kids! Room B38” in big block letters.
“Well?” Alex, who drove Luke here because Luke is currently not on speaking terms with his mother and father out of pure unadulterated spite, claps a hand on his shoulder, already stifling giggles. “You ready for your lesson, kiddo?”
“I will kick you out of the band,” Luke threatens.
“Then you can walk home.” Alex jingles his keys teasingly, then tugs Luke into a quick hug. “Come on, man, I think it was a nice gesture. Try to make the most of it, at least your parents are trying.”
Right, because the whole reason Luke’s here is because his mom thought the lessons would be a good reward for Luke passing all his classes this semester. Because she heard him complaining that Sunset Curve needed a rhythm guitarist to fill out their sound and decided that meant he needed to learn how to do it himself, even though Luke tried to explain to her that he couldn’t play rhythm guitar and face-melting solos at the same time.
Of course, she didn’t listen, and then his dad found a flyer for this guy Robert giving lessons out of the local church, and before Luke could say no, the first month’s worth were already paid for and he didn’t have a choice.
And he supposes Alex is sort of right. At least his parents know what a guitar is. At least they’re trying to be somewhat, relatively supportive of his music, instead of pushing him to apply to college or get a job over the summer like they did constantly until he ran away for six months after Christmas and almost died (he’s fine now, but that near-death experience really changed his parents’ tune).
At least they actually acknowledge that he’s in a band at all, unlike Alex’s folks, whose friends think Alex volunteers at homeless shelters in his free time, or Reggie’s, who just don’t care.
Luke knows he’s got it good, compared to his friends, compared to himself a year ago. But that doesn’t mean he’s gotta be happy about it.
“All right, I’ll pick you up in an hour,” Alex says, giving Luke’s shoulder another friendly squeeze. “Try not to pout so much, it’s unbecoming.”
Luke gives him the finger, and Alex’s laughter echoes behind him as he heads back toward his car.
And then Luke sighs, grips his guitar a little tighter, and heads inside. He’s already here, he might as well get it over with.
Room B38 is a tiny classroom deep in the bowels of the church, reserved for Sunday School or daycare or some other such activity. The door’s closed, so Luke knocks, and a voice from inside calls, “Come in!”
A voice that does not sound like it belongs to the crusty old man Luke had been picturing.
He frowns, wondering if maybe he’s in the wrong place, but tugs the door open anyway and maneuvers himself and his guitar inside.
There’s no crusty old man waiting for him. There is, however, a handsome (Luke can’t help noticing and then feels stupid for noticing), young man, no more than a year or two older than Luke at most, sitting in a comically small plastic chair and tuning an acoustic guitar.
“Hey,” Luke greets him, raising an awkward hand. “You’re… Robert?”
“Please—Bobby,” the guy corrects, laying his guitar down on the carpeted floor next to him so he can stand and shake Luke’s hand. There’s a gleam of confusion in his eyes, and he glances over Luke’s shoulder like he’s looking for something as he says, “You must be Luke’s… older brother?”
Oh, Luke is going to kill his parents. “Uh, no,” he says, clears his throat awkwardly. “No, um… I’m Luke.”
Bobby lets out an undignified snort, and then claps his hand over his mouth. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, still sort of giggling. “I shouldn’t laugh, it’s just—most of my students are in the four to twelve age range? I thought you’d be, like, eight.”
Luke rolls his eyes. “Well, I thought you’d be, like, sixty, so I guess we’re both disappointed.”
“Not disappointed,” Bobby corrects, and his smile makes Luke’s stomach flip in a way he’d really rather not analyze too closely right now. Bobby nods down at the guitar case in Luke’s hand. “Should we get started?”
Luke’s tongue feels dumb and thick in his mouth, but he manages to stammer something vaguely affirmative, and Bobby grins at him.
They settle into the kiddy chairs across from each other, and Bobby picks his guitar back up while Luke pulls his own out of its case.
He briefly considers pretending to actually need guitar lessons so that Bobby will have a chance to show off, because Bobby’s cute and funny and clearly cares about music, and Luke doesn’t know how to flirt.
But Luke also doesn’t know how to play guitar badly. So they only get about twenty minutes into the lesson before Bobby stops and says, “You don’t need me, do you?”
“I really don’t,” Luke apologizes. “I play lead guitar in a band, I’ve been teaching myself since I was twelve, my parents are just—” he starts to say stupid, then remembers Alex’s words and amends—“a little clueless about this kind of thing.”
Bobby puts his guitar aside and leans forward in his chair. “What, have they never heard you play before?”
Luke resists the urge to roll his eyes. “No, they have, they just. We’re looking for someone—my band and me—to play rhythm guitar for us? My parents asked why I couldn’t do it, and when I explained it to them, they thought ‘I can’t play lead and rhythm at the same time’ meant I couldn’t play rhythm at all. I don’t know.” He shrugs a little, busies himself with putting his guitar back in its case.
“I could.”
Luke looks up, frowning. “You could what?”
Bobby raises his eyebrows pointedly, nods at the guitar lying at his feet. “Play with you guys. If you’re still looking for someone, I mean.”
Luke’s heart skips a beat, and a warm smile spreads across his face without his permission. “Seriously, man? That’d be amazing! Here, let me give you my number and you can come over sometime and meet the band.”
They exchange information, and Luke spends a little too long staring stupidly at the contact in his phone that Bobby has named “Guitar Teacher <3”.
“Plus,” Bobby says, and Luke looks back up to see him smirking as he returns his own phone to his pocket. “Now I get an excuse to see you again. Since you obviously don’t need the lessons.”
“Yeah,” Luke agrees. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”
“But, uh, maybe don’t tell your parents that. Cause I can’t give them a refund.”
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