#Penelope needs a wake up call

[wallflowers-in-the-wind]

Does Penelope deserve her happily ever after with Colin in season 3?

A look into the first two seasons as well as contemplating the third.

As controversial of a topic this is I find myself at a loss preparing for the new season of Bridgerton. It is no secret this season will be the one where Penelope finally breaks out of the mold of “the girl in yellow” and has her comeback as the season’s hidden gem. After what she had overheard Colin saying behind her back many fans have been rooting for her to prove to the ton that she is no simple wallflower.

I however find myself wondering if Penelope even deserves her happily ever after. Perhaps the director had made an error in rushing Penelope and Colin into the spot light and Benedict should have had his chance to shine with the reveal of his other half. By doing so it would have given Penelope the chance to prove how much she has changed from the past two seasons making her romance much more sweeter in season 4.

When we look back when we first meet Penelope she is a sweet girl in love with her best friend’s brother. But that sweetness turn sour as the season progresses. I still have not forgotten what she had done to Marina. While it can be argued Penelope was doing it because she loved Colin and wanted to protect him she chose the most nuclear option because she felt she had no choice. This is one that wasn’t even present in the book series and makes things much more tragic for Marina if Bridgerton continue and shows us Eloise’s happily ever after.

But with this addition comes with the consequence of changing Penelope from a shy girl harassed by those around her and trapped in yellow by her mother who writes a gossip paper to have her own voice to fight back into something much darker. While it can be argued Marina brought her situation onto herself she was a young girl who was in love and manipulated into believing she was alone by Mrs. Featherington. What I find makes it more tragic is that Colin would have married her regardless if Marina had told him what had happened to her instead of finding out through Lady Whistledown. And for those who read the books we know what awaits poor Marina after her mental health takes a turn for the worse unless the director’s change that as well.

The next and still ongoing feud is her massive fight with Eloise when she found out Penelope is Lady Whistledown. One that will carry on into season 3 and with good reason. Penelope’s choice to keep her identity as Lady Whistledown had to be her greatest and worst decision.

While Eloise is known for being very outspoken it has often come back to bite her. During her hunt for the author she had pestered everyone she knew and accidentally caught the attention of the queen who gives her the task of unmasking the author (a ridiculous thing to ask a child). This is something that could have been prevented if Penelope had told her but the secrets that are published are the most scandalous and eye catching with no one spared from her quill (even the queen). If she were to know this it could place her in even more danger or make their friendship more strained than it is currently.

The sad part is that Eloise in the books never found out this way. There was no betrayal between them and she thought her best friend being the author was wonderful.

However, Penelope’s paper in the show has been proved to change the opinion of even the highest of ranking officials. One she may not comprehend how powerful that is. She had already proven how vengeful she can be when someone tries to steal the man she loves through dishonorable means. Even if it means throwing Eloise under the bus to prevent her identity being know. Something we all see backfire when Eloise discovers her secret.

Yet as much as people point out how childish Eloise is and how she doesn’t understand how the world works the problem is Eloise has never been given the chance to understand. And she points out how much she wants to learn.

Yet in the span of two seasons she had nearly been put in danger by the Queen’s demand, watched her best friend become a different person, and learned that same best friend betrayed her and was secretly the author she had been searching for who nearly destroyed her life to save her own. Penelope has been just as childish but more spiteful yet hardly anyone ever points that out. At the end of the day both girls are barely in their twenties with no real knowledge of the world beyond what they have been raised to believe and what they have seen.

If Penelope wants to prove she is the right woman for Colin she will have to show herself to be more mature than she had been in the past two seasons. Eloise will certainly not allow this version on Penelope near her brother if she has anything to say about it. And if the rest of the family knew what she had done I have no doubt they wouldn’t as well. Penelope has a long road ahead of her if she plans to redeem herself beyond a simple wardrobe change.

[luveline]

Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!

ty for requesting!! <3 —Hotch will look after you, even when you don’t tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k

cw reader has a concussion

Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobody’s watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he can’t do it like you can. There’s something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever you’re near. 

You’re not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when they’re over, is the thing, and he can’t keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk. 

He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because she’s exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. He’s surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer. 

“Hotch, what are you still doing here?” 

Hotch gives him a strange look. It’s not as though Morgan hasn’t seen Hotch clean up a mess before. “Sorry?” 

“I thought you’d be with Y/N.” 

He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they haven’t noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. “She went home.” 

“No she didn’t, they took her in an ambulance. She’s at the hospital, nobody told you that?” 

Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesn’t even say where he’s going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and he’s a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess. 

You don’t answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ. 

“Hi Hotch.” 

“Is she there? Can I speak to her?” 

“She went in for an MRI a half hour ago.”

“JJ, what happened? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 

“She said she told you.” A dry laugh from down the phone. “You’d think I’d learn not to trust her. I love her, but she’s a liar.” 

Hotch could say the same thing. “JJ, what happened? What’s wrong with her?” 

“I think she’s embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her leg and she slipped down the stairs.” 

“Who stepped on her?” Hotch asks. 

JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if they’re too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. He’d fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive. 

He’s out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesn’t have to flash his badge to get told what room they’ve put you in. He would’ve, and he would’ve threatened legal action. He’s no saint. He’ll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you. 

You’re in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. You’re smiling. JJ bites her lip. 

She turns to Hotch with relief. “Hey, look,” she says gently. 

“You took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?” 

Hotch understands quite quickly. “Sorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?” 

You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. “The light.” 

Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. It’s hidden behind other concerning tech, so he’s careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side. 

“Maybe she thought she told me,” he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly aren’t in a state to make decisions for yourself. 

JJ rubs your arm. “She got worse after we got here. That’s why they sent for her MRI so quickly. She’s on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.”   

Hotch knows she’s concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasn’t talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. “Go back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.” 

JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure. 

He admires her loyalty, he just wishes she’d called him two hours ago. 

You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that you’d been here, hurt, without him. “Can I tie your gown again?” he asks. 

You nod into your rubbing. 

“I turned the lights off. It shouldn’t be so bright in here anymore.” He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldn’t. You poor girl. “You’re a little… stark.” 

“I’m trying to think of some fruit and milk,” you tell him. 

“Do you need help?” 

“Not for the fruit.” 

“But for the milk,” he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow. 

“I don’t think that’s what I meant to say.” 

He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. “That’s okay, honey, you’re having a little trouble now, but it’ll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.” 

“You could be a doctor.” 

“I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about medicine.” 

“A very nice doctor. Big hands.” You breathe out loudly, more animated than he’s ever heard you. “Whoo, I’m cold. I think they made me naked.” 

“How about I tuck you in, would you like that?” he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head. 

You stare up at him. “You want to?” 

“I’d love to. I want you to be comfortable.” 

“My boyfriend might not like it.” 

Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You aren’t only incoherent, but amnesiac. And you’ve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least you’ve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes it’s him. 

“No? Why wouldn’t he like it, honey? I’m just trying to take care of you.” 

You visibly fluster. “You’re calling me honey like he does, and he won’t like it ‘cos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesn’t know where he’s going.” 

That second half is gibberish, he’s sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.

You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. “Ow.” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs. 

“Don’t tell Aaron I got hurt.” 

“Why not?” 

“I fell down the stairs. He’s never fallen down the stairs.” 

“I have, actually. Twice. And it doesn’t matter how you get hurt, I want to know you’re alright, so I need you to tell me.” 

He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. “Aaron?” you ask eventually, lifting your chin. 

“Yes?” 

You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. “You didn’t come with me.” 

“I didn’t know you were hurt.” He squeezes your hip softly. “You didn’t tell me. But it’s not your fault, is it? You got hurt.” His voice falls into silk. “Is that warm enough?” 

“I’m glad you’re here. I need you to get my shoes.” 

“No shoes. Can I have a hug?” 

“Why?” 

“Just to hug you,” he says softly. “It might make you feel better.” 

You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin. 

Thank god she’s okay, he thinks. 

“Am I stuck like this?” you ask. 

“Are you worried?” He taps your back. “I doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but it’s okay. Feeling better is the priority.” 

“I’d like to go back.” 

“Home?” 

“For breakfast.” 

“Are you hungry? I can find you something to eat.” 

“What?” you ask. 

You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? We’ll wait for the doctor together.” 

He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb. 

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

“hungover” - hotch x fem!reader

after a girls’ night in, you wake up next to your boyfriend.

1380 words - FLUFFY FLUFF

cw; mentions of alcohol and food, implied age gap?, typical hangover, jemily agenda (sry not sry)

a/n: I wrote this on my phone on vacation bc I have a serious problem

———————

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that you are not in your clothes.

You aren’t in your clothes. And you only realize it because of the scent wafting up your nose. Sea Salt Breeze - the cologne you’d gotten him for Christmas last year - emanates from the t-shirt that envelopes your upper half. You dip your chin for another whiff, breathing him in deeply. You want the smell inscribed into your brain.

You feel the bed dip and creak and you instinctively shut your eyes, playing possum as Aaron pads into the bathroom. The door whines as he shuts it most of the way, not totally closing it because he thinks you’re still asleep and that the sound of the door shutting will wake you.

Each of your senses turns on one at a time, like your brain waves run on dial-up Internet. You open your eyes and the room is mostly dark, save for the sliver of light creeping in through the outline of the curtains. You run the palm of your hand along Aaron’s sheets and marvel over how soft they are - Egyptian cotton, he’d told you once before.

Your head hurts, but only mildly. You’d certainly been drunker before, but last night was still up there. Penelope made her mojitos strong.

You slowly sit up in the bed as Aaron opens the door, flicking the bathroom light off in the same motion. Your eyes meet his and he cracks a small smile. “Thought you’d still be asleep,” he muses. You love his pale blue boxers and seeing the hair on his legs. His calves are crazy defined - he’s a runner, after all, but still. You rarely see him in anything but a suit and tie, so it’s always a treat. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You shake your head, wincing slightly at the movement. Maybe you’re a little more hungover than you thought. “I was already awake,” you mumble, running a hand over your face. “Did you put me in your own clothes last night? I have pajamas in my drawer,” you point out, gesturing to the second drawer of Aaron’s dresser, the one that contains your set of pajamas, a few spare pairs of underwear, and a couple of emergency outfits, just in case you end up sleeping over at his place.

It happens more often than not, so you keep the drawer decently stocked at all times.

“You insisted,” Aaron climbs into the bed, reaching for you. He tugs you to him and you roll over onto your side, and then halfway onto your tummy so that your leg drapes over his and your palm rests flat on his chest.

You can hear his heart beating. It’s like a metronome, steady and guiding and calm. You feel his pointed chin nuzzle into your hair and then, his lips, quick yet effective, against your forehead.

Flashes of last night run through your head. You, Emily and JJ, over at Penelope’s apartment. A symphony of girlish giggles, talking about Emily and JJ’s upcoming wedding date, drinking at least three pitchers of mojitos among the four of you. Watching Dirty Dancing and gabbing the entire time, realizing it’d be a bad idea to drive yourself home, and calling Aaron to come get you.

When he arrived, you called him Hotch and apologized for him having to come get you, and he reminded you that he was Aaron and he was your boyfriend and he would pick you up anytime you needed it. You were determined to play the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on the ride home, fumbling with his phone until you found it.

You belted out (I’ve Had) The Time of My Life and demanded Aaron sing along. He admitted that he didn’t know all the words and you gave him a stern lecture until you started laughing so hard that you were in tears. Traffic lights reflected Christmas ornament colors in Aaron’s brown eyes as he drove, occasionally glancing over at you.

You swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as you berated him for not knowing the words to such a classic song.

And then, once you were back at his place, you sat on the edge of the bed and stared at your shoes dumbly until Aaron offered to help you take them off. “Laces too hard,” you mumbled, and Aaron just hummed in agreement before kneeling down to help you.

And then he helped you out of your clothes. He went for your drawer, and you threw a pillow at him. “The college t-shirt,” you demanded with these Bambi-esque eyes.

“Arms up, baby,” Aaron said as he slid his law school t-shirt onto your upper half. He saved that specific term of endearment for times like these, when he was taking care of you, when he himself was exhausted. You could tell he was, too, not only because he kept yawning, but because of that glazed-over look in his chestnut eyes.

You glance down at the words George Washington University, printed over your chest.

Aaron’s arms around you tighten for just a moment as he embraces you, and you dig your face a little further into his chest. “No Jack today?” You ask, your voice coming out croaky.

“At his grandparents’,” Aaron murmurs, and you yawn. He strokes your hair. “How’s your head?”

“I haven’t had any complaints so far.”

Aaron’s hand freezes in your hair, and you lift your head, smirking at him. His mouth has formed a straight line, but you snicker and you can tell he’s trying not to smile at your dirty joke. “Degenerate,” he calls you.

“Prude,” you tease back, inching closer to kiss his jaw briefly before laying your head back down. “It hurts,” you answer his question. “But not as bad as it could.”

“That’s good,” Aaron comments, his hand running through your hair again, gently, the world’s most relaxing and least effective hairbrush. It feels nice, but his hands are so big that his fingers snag on the tangles, accomplishing nothing but making you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Nothing wrong with that, though.

“Do you want some Tylenol for your headache?” Aaron asks, and you just curl up into him even more. He’s so warm, and sturdy, and it’s so rare that you get mornings like this. Either you’re both working or Jack has a soccer game or there’s something else going on. It’s nice just to lay around with him, to be mildly hungover and pretend like that’s the only thing going on in either of your lives.

“That would require getting out of bed,” you protest, and feel Aaron’s arms tighten around you. He’s a very doting boa constrictor.

“How about I get it for you, then?” He offers, and you shake your head and shift all your weight onto him. He chuckles, a deep, throaty noise you know you’re only privy to for about twenty minutes right after he’s woken up. “So that’s a no.”

“That’s a no,” you confirm, settling back in to your original position.

You lay like that with him, in comfortable silence, for a few minutes. Until it feels like you’ve melded into one being. Then Aaron finally shifts under you. “Honey, my arm’s asleep,” he whispers, as though he’s afraid to disturb you.

You slither off of him, then clamber out of bed with no amount of grace, going so far as to trip over the corner post of the bed. As Aaron sits up, you exclaim, “I’m okay!” and hold your hands out to steady yourself.

Aaron stifles a laugh and you watch him stand from the bed and he walks towards you, steadying you with one of those gargantuan hands on your shoulder. He then lifts that hand to tip your chin up. You step forward in a silent dance, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him. “Oh, shit,” you murmur. “I bet I have really awful morning breath.”

He just blinks a few times, and then offers you a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, honey, you kind of do,” he admits. You lightly punch him in the pectoral and then head to the en suite to brush your teeth.

[miley1442111]

fix it together- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :) thank you guys for all the love on the first part of this!!!!

please don't read if you have emetophobia!!!!

summary: aaron said some horrible things. He's trying to fix it, right?

pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: mad angst, aaron is so mean, reader believes she is a bad mother, heartbreak, feelings of disappointment, reader is pregnant, talks of pregnancy, talks of vomiting and morning sickness, happy ending :)

part 1- fix it.

Aaron

The last few weeks had been… tense. Going back to work was fine and we still acted like a couple, don’t get me wrong. Yet, everything felt disgustingly different. The gifts hadn’t been working. The dates hadn’t been working. Every second of my days were spent thinking over what I’d said on that horrible night. Did I ask for an annulment? What was I thinking? I love you more than anything, I want you forever. Since the first date I’d known you were my girl, my forever girl. Every night I’ve been trying to make it clear to you that I want you. That I think you’re a good mother. Even the nights you'd stayed at Penelope's.

After Jack's birthday, you'd gone to Penelope's for 3 nights, I only saw you during the day at work, and even then you didn't look at me, let alone speak to me. You came home because you missed Jack.

Since then, you’ve been distant, focusing on work, or Jack more often than not. So I decided something. 

I made all the distractions go away. Jack went off to his cousin's house, and I pulled us out of work for a full week, much to Strauss’s annoyance. Only thing is that I hadn’t told you. 

Well, this better work. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Honey?” I cleared my throat, still groggy from waking up a few minutes prior. You weren’t in bed, you’d recently stopped our regular 5 minutes of hazy cuddling as we both wake up. My third favourite part of the day. My second favourite being when you come to me at 2:07pm everyday at work and give me a kiss, my first favourite being the kiss and hug you give me at the end of the day, just after tucking Jack in. All three had stopped in recent weeks.  

“Yeah?” You called from the bathroom, doing your regular morning routine. 

“I called us out of work,” I yawned and heard your quickened footsteps, then you appeared in front of me. You looked so beautiful, as always. A random and oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. I started to sweat just thinking about it. 

“What? Why?! We have people who need our help, we have cases-” You started rambling as I got up and cupped your face, kissing you. 

“Because I need you. I need you to be you again,” I whispered against your lips, hoping this would work. “So we’re going to have a nice few days, yeah? Today we have your appointment and we’ll have another talk. Then we can just relax for the rest of the week.”

“The week?” you stressed and I rolled my eyes, kissing you again. Your lips were so perfect. You’d brushed your teeth, not that I mind your morning breath. Not that I mind anything about you. 

“Please,” I was begging and I wasn’t even ashamed. “Please honey,” I wrapped my hands around your waist, trying to persuade you. 

“Aaron-”

“Don’t call me Aaron,” You’d stopped calling me the usual ‘baby’ or ‘darling’, or my favourite ‘love’. “Please. I want to be normal again. I don’t want this distance, I adore you more than anything.”

I could tell you felt conflicted. I hurt you. I know I did. 

“Aaron,” another stab to my heart. “Fine, we’ll take this week off, and we can… talk.”

“Thank you my love,” I smile, pressing kisses along your exposed collarbone. You chuckled. I’d missed your laughter. I’d missed you.

“Ok baby, come on, I need to shower,” you giggled against me and I could feel my heart mending. Baby. I couldn’t stop the grin on my lips. I let go of you, but not before kissing you again. My perfect wife. 

“Can I join?” I smirked, and you scoffed. 

“Don’t push your luck Hotchner,” You chuckled. This was it. This is what it used to be. Flirty, loving, and fun. Before I ruined everything. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You

Forgiving Aaron was the easy part. Worrying if every parenting decision was the right one, was pure agony. 

Is it wrong to say that like that? Should I have done this a different way? Was that right?

And your brain’s personal favourite: 

What would Haley have done? 

You were beating yourself up about it all for the past few weeks. You felt you had ruined Jack’s birthday with your own insecurities, since he’d asked if you were alright the day after.

Telling Jack you were pregnant was a highlight from the past few weeks. He was ecstatic to find out he’d be getting a little sibling. He already wanted to meet them and he understood that there would be times where either of you wouldn’t be able to play with him when his sibling arrived. 

Aaron had been grovelling to the highest degree. Flowers once a week, date nights, house chores, taking paperwork from you so you don’t need to do it, getting any and all pregnancy cravings, and helping you deal with all your morning sickness and migraines. 

It was maddening. You were going to go insane if you weren’t careful. 

Yet, you felt like every second of every day was spent thinking about your parenting choices and just wondering if having another baby was even a good idea. Would your new child even like you? Would this ruin your relationship with Jack? What was going to happen when they grow up? Did Aaron really think your parenting is terrible? 

Ok, so maybe you haven’t forgiven him just yet. Or at all. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You lay back in bed, a book in hand as Aaron pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. You stared at the words on the page, trying to make sense of them when your brain was so clouded. Your levels of anxiety had risen greatly, which you both knew was not good for your baby. Aaron had been trying to lift some of the stress off your shoulders with his constant doting, but you knew that the stress was Aaron. From the moment you woke up to the minute you fell asleep, you felt like you were putting up a show. Being the perfect wife, perfect (probably shitty, you thought anyway) mother, perfect agent. It was exhausting. You wanted to go back to before, back to when you didn’t have to pretend everything was alright. 

You pushed him off you and lay on your side, a regular occurrence. Aaron felt dejected. He’d hurt you so badly, and he didn’t know what to do to fix it. 

“Baby?” he spoke into the room. 

“Yes Aaron?” You answered. 

“Do you still love me?” He asked in a small voice. He felt raw and full of emotion. Honestly, he was terrified of the answer. 

“Do I still love you?” You scoffed. “I think I should be the one asking that. You were the one mentioning getting an annulment.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that… I was just-” He tried but you shot out of bed, staring at him with an anger in your eyes he could only describe as animalistic. 

“ 'You just' what Aaron? What?!” You squealed, all the emotions that you’d let build up, coming out at once. “I’ve been trying to be a good wife, to be a good mother for the past 4 fucking years Aaron. I have been that for you, I have been that for you and Jack, and I’m so happy to do it because I love the both of you more than anything! And all I ask in return is that you love and respect me! That is what you promised me on your wedding day! You didn’t fucking do that. You threw our marriage under the bus and compared me to your ex wife, the second you got slightly stressed. I’m sure Haley did a much better job than me Aaron, I’m sure she did! But I’m here Aaron. I love you. I love Jack. I have dedicated my life to the two of you, to our family! And now I feel like I’ve made a mistake in doing that, because the second you get overwhelmed, I’m in the first person that gets thrown under the bus?! To get reduced to nothing by you?! That’s not fucking fair Aaron, It’s not fair! And the worst part is that I fucking forgave you weeks ago, but I can’t forgive myself! I feel like such a shit mother every single day! I feel like I’m failing everyday, and that our baby will fucking hate me because it’ll somehow know that I’m the second choice! That it’ll know you’d rather be with someone who’s dead! So don’t come to me asking stupid fucking questions like that when you know the fucking answer Aaron. You don’t need to humiliate me more than you already have.”

You walked out of your shared bathroom, down the stairs into the living room, and sobbed your eyes out. 

Aaron sat up in the bed, thankful that Jack wasn’t home today, but devastated by your words, and his actions. Why had he even brought up an annulment? 

He couldn’t even begin to dissect the feelings he had when the bile in his throat suddenly came on and he had to run to the bathroom, and spill it into the toilet. Your words hit him like a knife, throwing his own words back in his face in the most disgusting way to do it, directed at you. You were an amazing mother, an amazing wife. And yet, you thought you were worthless. He had made you feel worthless. He felt terrible. He didn’t want Haley. Yes, he’d loved her for a long time, yes their divorce was heartbreaking. But he loved you now, and he didn’t ever want to take that for granted. He’d gotten two people who loved him unconditionally, two people who loved him enough to have a child with him, two people that would put themselves in harm’s way for him. 

And he fucked it up. Twice. 

He followed you downstairs, standing in the doorway as you sobbed into the couch cushions, then walked over and put a hand on your back. You didn’t push him off, that must be a good sign, right? He moved you to sit on his lap, your head in his shoulder as he calmed you down.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. I was awful to you. I don’t want an annulment, I never want an annulment. I know it sounds bad but I was just so used to Haley hanging a divorce over my head for so long, it just came out. You are who I want, who I would choose, every single time. You are a good mother. You’re going to be a good mother. I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt yourself. That I ever made you doubt me. I never want to hurt you like this again. This is the worst thing I’ve ever done, I’m so sorry,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m so sorry.”

You let out a half chuckle- half sob and pulled away. “Aaron, I need you to swear to me that you will never fucking bring up us breaking up again, unless you actually mean it.”

“I swear.”

“And I need you to promise me that you’ll work on stopping all the reactive bullshit we’ve been doing,” You sighed.

“I promise.” 

“Then, I think we’ll be ok,” You smiled softly and kissed his cheek, settling your head back against his neck. 

“So we’re ok again?” He asked hopefully. 

“Not yet, no,” You stated and his hope vanished. 

“Honey-”

“We will be, soon.” 

He smiled again. You were his, always. Just as he was yours, always. Anything, you could get through. 

Together.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

people that asked to be tagged: @michasia24 @pear-1206 @randomrosie01 @tonystankhere

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

could u pls write a fic about a plus sized reader noticing Spencer doesnt look at her alot so one morning she wears lingerie and a see through robe and she teases him until he just takes her on the couch?

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: listen, it wasn't that you didn't love the domestic life with spencer, but god, you just really missed being touched (and penelope has a solution).

— warnings: uhh this is almost 3k of pwp firstly, penelope being the best wingwoman to ever exist, lingerie, teasing, unprotected sex, couch sex, vaginal sex, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, kind of switch spencer and reader at the end, riding, heavy petting, subspace if you squint, mentions of oral sex (m and f rec), the reader is lowkey a freak (and penelope instigates it), clothed sex, the reader is dressed and spencer isn't, i held myself back from including a mommy kink, but that's the best you're getting from me, a lack of foreplay (be considerate folks), consent kink, praise kink.

— wc: 2817

⋆ a/n: HEY SO i really let this get away from me in the sense of this was meant to kind of be dom!spencer but i blinked and all of a 2k was written of sub!spencer so yikes!! but i really enjoyed writing this, it's been literally forever since i've written pwp so... here ya go!! i'm trying to be more organized with uploading because i really want to clear out my drafts before starting any new projects.

masterlist | AO3

“Pen, have you ever seen those TikToks where it’s like ‘he has a whole woman in his bed yet he’s playing World of Warcraft’ or some shit like that?” You ask the phone that’s tucked under your chin.

You’re in the middle of putting up laundry, but a feeling of unrest bubbled beneath your skin.

Penelope laughs, “And let me guess, that’s how you feel right now?” 

You sigh, looking down at the shirt that refuses to turn inside out. You throw it back in the hamper with a huff before grabbing a pair of – Spencer’s – jeans.

“I just – I’m not with Spencer for just sex, you know that, but it’s been like… forever since I’ve gotten any.” You can’t even listen to yourself talk.

“We’ve been in this like… domestic bliss stage, and while I love waking up to breakfast in bed and giggly showers, I’m horny and every time he does something so normal – something that shouldn’t even be considered sexy – I have to hold myself back from jumping his bones.” 

Penelope lets out a rather unattractive chortle, but she continues. “Listen sister, while I love the Boy Genius as much as the next person, he’s kinda dense. With all those brains, he’s rather hard-headed when it comes to romance.”

“I know, I know, and those are one of the reasons why I love him! The denseness is cute, but I’m starting to think I sabotaged myself.” You look down longingly at the MIT t-shirt. Spencer was away at the office right now, so that means whatever conversation you were having with the colorful woman on the other end was completely inappropriate.

“You know what I think?” She starts. “Oh God.” You sigh fondly. “Oh, hush! Don’t even act like my ideas aren’t good! Anyway… If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being quite the seductress myself, is that at the end of the day a man is a man, and they can be reduced down to their most primal instincts.”

“What are you saying?” You inquire curiously with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m saying that you gotta work with what ya mama gave ya! Men are dumb, they see a tit or a nice ass and they lose all cognitive function. So what I’m saying is to put on some lingerie and act like a little minx! Guys love it when you tease them and act like you don’t know what you’re doing! It’s about the chase, my fellow curvaceous protege.”

“So you’re saying to… seduce him?”  

“That’s exactly what I’m saying – Oh! Good morning sir! Yes, sorry, I’ll call you back when I’ve got the answer to what you need… yes okay bye-bye!” And with that, you’re left listening to the silence. 

You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation before taking a seat on the bed.

Seduce him, huh? The notion almost seems ridiculous, but it really isn’t that far fetched. You’ve had sex with Spencer before, you know how his brain works, what gets him needy and what parts of you turn him on. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

You don’t really own any lingerie, because for one, the material that’s supposedly the back of your underwear gets swallowed by your ass, and two, Spencer’s never complained about your granny panties. But hey, it doesn’t hurt to look right?

Okay, seduce Spencer Reid is a go.

Taking one last scrutinizing look in the bathroom mirror, you leave quietly, walking into the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of coffee. Liquid courage as they say.

The light pink sheer robe hangs off of your ample form, the fuzz on the edge of your sleeves getting in your way and irritating you. God, if this doesn’t work, a woman by the name of Penelope Garcia is going to find herself six feet underground.

Spencer sat on the couch slipping his feet into a pair of mismatched socks – you’ve stopped trying to organize them a while ago – tucking them into his converse. He’s off today, probably having plans with the bookstore and the park before offering to make the both of you dinner. It’s endearing to say the least, but food is not something you're hungry for.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” You ask before taking a sip of your coffee. He hasn’t looked up, but you’re facing him now, your scantily clad body exposed by the thin satin of your white bra and underwear. A devil in disguise (you hope).

“Hmm, I was thinking about playing chess in the park for an hour or two before going to the bookstore. A new novel about quantum physics just came out, and even though it’ll probably be about stuff I already know, I’m always willing to look at it from a different perspec…” Spencer finally looked up, his sentence slurring a bit. “...tive.”

“Ah! That sounds exciting! I’ll text you what I want for dinner later if that’s okay? Or would you rather I go shopping with you?”

He blinks, his mouth hanging open intelligently, as though he’s still trying to process exactly what he’s seeing. “Yes. I mean no - I mean… I… what are you wearing?”

You spare a lazy look down, as though you had forgotten you even had the thing on.

“Oh this? It’s just really hot in the apartment today. So make sure you bring some sunscreen and a fan, yeah? Don’t want you getting a sunburn or having a heat stroke.”

“I - I’ve never seen that set before, is it new?” He stammers. You click your tongue as if you genuinely had to date the outfit back, when in reality the tags to the set itself sits pretty in the bathroom trash can. “I have no idea honestly, it looked comfortable though, so I just slipped it on. You don’t mind, right?”

“I… no. I don’t.”

You beam at him, “Perfect. Oh! Let me make you some coffee before you go, I know how hard it is for you to start your day without it.” 

You turn back around, and you could hear Spencer fruitlessly swallow a gasp. The back of your underwear might as well have been a piece of string, because your ass cheeks were basically eating the material. It was uncomfortable, but oh well, beauty is pain.

You smirk in victory, pulling out a medium sized thermos and pouring the rest of the liquid in it.

You didn’t hear him move, let alone walk behind you, but two large hands placed themselves respectively on your hips, the man tucking his face in the side of your neck. You shiver at the hot blow of air that escapes through his nose, and his grip on your skin turns a little tighter.

“What are you doing?” The question is mumbled, but you don’t miss it. “What does it look like? I’m making you coffee, silly.” He huffs. “No. I mean what are you doing to me?”

He presses forward, pushing his half hard cock between your cheeks. It was your turn to gasp, and you couldn’t help but put down the pot of coffee, pushing the now full thermos away to avoid any future hazards. 

You hold on to the edge of the counter, tilting your head further to the side to give the needy man more access. He takes the hint, peppering sweet, heated kisses on the sensitive skin of your throat. You shiver once more, sighing out a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know lying is useless, especially with the way your voice sounded so breathless. “You know you’re a terrible liar.” It was a playful dig, and his palms had begun to move, pushing on your full stomach to put more of your weight on him.

“Hm, but you don’t know every single thing I have in the closet, now do you?” You remark, yelping when he nipped at your earlobe. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong and you know it.” You do. “Do I?”

“This is terrible foreplay.” He jokes and you giggle. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?” You push your hips back and add a bit of friction onto his cock. He groans and you feel your pussy pulse.

“You always do a good job.” Spencer murmurs.

You’re turned around so you can face him, and you wish you could take a picture to savor the look on his face. He’s beet red, cheeks and ears flushed a beautiful hue that leaves a twinge of pride pooling in your stomach.

He cups your face, drawing you in for a long awaited kiss. 

You sigh into him, hands twisting at the sleeves of his cardigan to pull him closer. He lets you in exchange of pushing you against the counter until your lower back is digging uncomfortably into the marble.

“Where do you wanna go?” He finally breathes. You stare at him as if you were in a daze before processing his question with a blink. “Couch?” You ask. “Whatever you want.” He says before joining your lips together once more.

He walks the both of you backwards slowly, and he takes advantage of when your mouth parts in a moan as he flicks his tongue against the top of your lip. He tastes like toothpaste and you might be a little crazy to think that it makes him way sexier than it should.

Your eyes flutter open and you push him away with hands on his chest gently.

“Do you trust me?” You gasp.

“Of course.”

“Good.” You say with a smirk.

You make sure he’s close enough to the edge of the couch when you push him on it, quickly clambering onto his lap and settling your hands on his shoulders; his fall naturally to your waist and you grin.

“Hi.” You whisper quietly. “Hey.” He responds back just as hushed. “You can grab my ass, you know.” You tease and his eyes widen just slightly. “I…” You guide his palms to hold the meat of your ass and he grips.

“God.” It tumbles from his lips in a whimper and you fucking melt. 

“Sorry I’ve been such a tease today, Spencie.” You say sweetly with a fake pout. “I just needed you so bad and you’ve been so, so sweet to me, my sweet boy. I didn’t want to ruin it by asking you to fuck me stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined it.” He corrects with a whine. You had begun to grind down on him and he gripped you tightly, helping you rut against him. “No?” You question. He shakes his head quickly, his hair bouncing along with the swings.

“No. ‘Would’ve done anything you asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So, if I asked you to let me suck your dick until I’ve sucked the soul out of you, would you have let me? How about if I asked you to eat my pussy for breakfast, huh? Would you have done it?”

“Yes, yes, God yes! I want to… I wanna do all those things so badly.” He groans, all but pawing at you now. 

“I bet you do,” You coo. “I guess I haven’t been the only one pent up. But that’s okay, because I’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss before traveling downwards to his belt and wrangling it open. You popped open the buttons of his jeans, sliding back so you can tug them down his legs. 

“Up.” You command softly and he obliges. 

You’re faced with his hardened cock bulging from under his black underwear.

“Oh… is this for me?” You know you’re being mean when you drag your fingertips over the spot where precum has begun to pool, only putting slight pressure on it just to hear that sweet sound of his breath hitching.

“Yes – it’s all for you.” Spencer whines and throws his head back against the couch. “All for me? My goodness…” You trail off as you drag his underwear down his thighs. His cock springs up and bobbles against his clothed stomach.

“Can I –” He licks his lips, “Can I take my shirt off?”

“Of course, my love.” You were just about to ask him anyway.

As he rids himself of his top you get up for a split second to take his pants and underwear off fully. As you go to undress yourself, he stops you.

“W— wait… keep it on please.” 

“Oh? You wanna be nasty and pull my panties to the side, huh? Dirty dirty boy.” You tisk, but in reality you feel like you’re about to explode. “Is that okay?” You smile at his question. “More than okay.”

You climb back on top of him, doing exactly what you said and pulling the white satin to the side before gripping his dick, lining it up to your entrance. He holds you steady looking up at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes as you sink down.

The stretch stings because of the lack of foreplay, but you can’t find it within yourself to care as the pain shoots up your lower back and is already fraying at your pleasure filled nerves. 

“So… so good. God.” Spencer chokes. 

Your lips are rolled between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You heave out a breath when he sinks down to the hilt, and he just rubs soothing circles on your hips. The feeling helps to guide you as you loosen up, and when you do, you give him an experimental clench.

He groans of course and you smirk lazily.

“‘Gonna ride you now, ‘kay?” You murmur as you lift your hips up before slamming down. Spencer practically shouts when he re-enters you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He’s a whimpering, cursing mess. “That feels good, baby?” You ask as you bounce. Spencer nods and fondness twists in your chest.

“You’re so tight. I think ‘m gonna pass out.” He says dramatically. You laugh, grabbing his hands and slipping them under your bra so they can cover your breasts. “Well, don’t pass out until we’ve cum, alright?”

He gives your breasts a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.” He huffs and you giggle again. The giggles die out though when you shift and his tip prods just right.

“Oh shit.” You curse but remain in the same place.

You ride him in abandon, the sound of skin meeting skin radiating out into the early morning air of the apartment. The sound is nasty and wet and it causes your head to swim. The buzz of mind numbing pleasure swims around in your gut, and you can almost grasp it.

“Spence I – I need more, can you…?” You moan out, your head tilting back. “Yeah, yeah, I got you, sweetheart.”

One hand leaves to rub furiously at your clit and your hips cant forward, sending you landing on his naked, sweat slicked chest. Your thighs burn and you rest for a moment, but Spencer doesn’t seem to match the same sentiment, because the other hand holds you by your hip in a grip that’s almost bruising. 

The fat is spilling through his fingers but he uses it as leverage as he now fucks up into you. You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and tucking his face into yours. You mark him mindlessly, body trembling as you near your orgasm.

You can feel him twitch inside of you when he sets a pace, bringing you up and down in a way that indicates he’s nearing an end of his own.

“Together, okay?” You cry out, “‘Wanna cum together.”

“Okay, honey, okay.” 

He sets his feet on the floor and rubs harder at your sensitive bud, and the arousal that implodes inside of you is so blinding that you white out for a minute. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed, and you can hear him mewling into your ear before warmth paints your womb.

It’s silent in the apartment for a moment before you speak.

“I have to tell you a secret.” You whisper mindlessly, laying your cheek on a bony shoulder. “And what’s that?” He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“This set is new.”

“I know honey, I saw the charge on my card.”

“What?!” You exclaim, pulling away from his body to search his hazy eyes with your wide ones.

“You forget I can see the bank statements.” Spencer says with a smile. “No, no. I – I didn’t mean to use your card.”

“You didn’t have to… I may have uh… may have slipped one into your wallet when you weren’t looking.” He admits sheepishly. You stare at a moment and then smile incredulously. “Did you… secretly sugar daddy me?”

“Oh God, please don’t call it that.” He says with a groan, leaning forward to bury his face in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever sugar daddy.” You tease, running your fingers through his sweaty locks.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[girlkisser13]

being married to aaron hotchner would include

• this man is SOO wholesome. the two of you have the fluffiest relationship.

• whenever he sees you, he can’t help but break into a full-on, sunshine-bright grin— it isn’t just a smile; it’s like he’s radiating pure joy.

• aaron tries hard not to talk about you too much around his team. however, they’re incredibly nosy, and he knows that once he starts discussing you, you’ll be on his mind all day.

• penelope's wallpaper is a picture of the two of you kissing (she ships the two of you soo hard).

• he isn't surprised when people hit on you— after all, you're stunning. but when they can see you’re with aaron and still choose to disrespect that, it completely overshadows any compliment they were trying to give you.

• if anything were to happen to you, he’d lose his mind and wouldn’t rest until you’re safe in his arms again.

• we already know aaron is fiercely protective, but with you, it’s even more evident. after losing haley in such a traumatic way, it’s only natural that he some deep-seated fears about losing you too.

• the moment he introduced you to jack, it was like magic— he took to you instantly, bursting into fits of giggles as he saw the genuine smile on your face. for aaron, watching this interaction unfold made his heart soar.

• you made it clear to him that you would never replace jack’s mother. you acknowledged that jack has a mother who, though not present, is still very much a part of his life.

• you assured him that you’d be there for jack in any way he needed, that you’d care for him and love him as your own.

• aaron could have dropped down to one knee and proposed to you right there after hearing that, the respect you had for haley despite never meeting her and the kindness in your heart was enough to melt him to the core.

• when he has to leave for a case early and doesn’t want to wake you, he always leaves a detailed letter so you know exactly where he’s headed and what’s happening.

• he often makes you breakfast before he heads out, driven by guilt for leaving so abruptly.

• whenever he’s paged in the middle of a date, he’s quick to apologize for the sudden departure but makes up for it with a flood of calls to stay connected.

• you're the only one he'll dance with.

• slow dancing might not be his forte, but he gives it his best shot. and though he’ll never admit it, if a faster-paced song comes on and he’s had a drink or two, he’s surprisingly pretty good.

• while he’s intense at work, aaron appreciates quiet, peaceful moments when he’s off duty. a cozy night in with a good book, a movie, or just enjoying each other's company without distractions would be his ideal way to unwind.

• every night he's home, he’s guaranteed to cuddle up with you, his head resting on your chest or nestled in the crook of your neck, while your fingers gently run through his hair.

• it's the closest thing to heaven he’s ever known. <33

[weird-is-life]

Doted on

Pairing: Spencer Reid x nurse!fem!reader

Summary: Spencer gets thrown head first against the wall, and you take him home from the hospital

Warnings: fluff, mentions of hospitals, headache, concussion, use of y/n and pet names

Words: 0.9k

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer is currently sitting on a hospital bed with a really awful headache. And a concussion. The case went a little bit wrong while catching the unsub. He got thrown against the rock-hard wall, and it's safe to say he hit it head first.

The entire team is in the room with him as the nurse instructs on what he's supposed to do next.

"You're gonna need somebody to wake you up every few hours," the nurse starts," if there isn't anybody, we're going to have to keep you here."

"It's okay. I have somebody to look after me," Spencer murmurs, trying to pull out his phone out of his jacket.

He wants to call you. He knows your shift is ending right about now so he hopes that you'll come home with him, and take care of him as well.

What he doesn't know, is that you're already on your way to his room. Your best friend, and fellow nurse, let you know about Spencer being admitted into hospital right away. And since your very long shift is finally over, the only thing on your mind is Spence.

You come to the room right as all of the team members discuss who's going to take care of Spencer. Spencer, on the other hand, is ignoring them, his focus on his phone.

You don't understand why he's frowning so much until you realise it. You pull out your phone, and see the missed phone calls. You smile to yourself, and step into your room.

"Sorry, I missed your calls. I had the phone on silence mode," you say as you make your way to Spencer. His whole face lights up at the sight of you.

"Oh, hi," he happily greets you, but then he frowns," are you really here or is the concussion making me see things?"

You chuckle at his words," Spence, yeah I'm really here. I got here as soon as I could when I heard you got hurt. What happened, huh?"

"Didn't see the guy, got caught off guard, and thrown against the wall. Well at least I think I remember it right," Spencer frowns some more, but smiles instantly when you go dote on him.

You look at his plastered forehead, and run your fingers over it slightly. You want to kiss him right there, but there's a cough behind your back. You sheepishly turn around.

Spencer's whole team is staring at you, wide eyed and completely baffled. "Hello," you greet them shyly.

"Spencer, aren't you gonna introduce us?" Derek is the one to ask with raised eyebrows.

"Uh, yeah, sorry," Spencer chuckles," this," he smiles big at you," is y/n, my girlfriend." He says it so proudly, too.

The team just stares at you two. The whole room stays in awkward silence, and you have to try very hard to not run out of there.

Thankfully, Penelope Garcia is as sweet as you've heard from Spencer, and she comes running towards you first. "Oh my gosh, hi. You're so so pretty, I can't believe Spencer has been hiding you from us," she hugs you," I'm Penelope."

It wakes up the others from the shock too, and they come to introduce themselves to you. They are just as nice as Penelope, you can see why Spencer loves them so much.

"How long have you guys been together?" Derek asks curiously. Spencer takes you hand in his, and starts to fiddle with your fingers. Completely ignoring Derek's questions, you think, he must have hit his head pretty hard.

"A few months now," you smile kindly at all of them," we've actually met here. I patched up Spencer's bruised cheek after one of your cases."

"Oh I remember it," Derek smirks," I wondered why Spencer left the hospital so happy. " Derek teases, but Spencer seems to not care like at all.

"Yeah it's true. She gave me her number, of course I was happy." Spencer states, rubbing his temples with his free hand. "Guys, I'd love for you to get to know each other more, but my head is killing so I just want to get home."

Spencer stands up from the bed, and grabs his belongings before he says his goodbyes, and pulls you out of there. You quickly say goodbye to them too with a promise of seeing them again soon.

"Spencer, that was so rude!" You scold him when you get outside of their earshot.

"Maybe, "Spencer grins at you," but I really do have a bad headache, and I just missed you so much. So can you blame me?"

You chuckle,"I missed you too, handsome. But you should be nicer to them."

Spencer just rolls his eyes which makes his head hurt even more," I am nice. Even if not, they can handle it." Spencer laughs when he sees your disapproving expression.

"C'mon, sweetheart, I'm just joking. Don't worry," Spencer in the moment of making your disapproving face go away swiftly leans in to give you a kiss.

"You better be," you banter.

Spencer laughs some more making the headache even worse.

Spencer groans a bit in pain which immediately draws your attention. "You okay? Is your head spinning?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm okay. Just got a bad headache," he assures you as you two finally reach your car, and get in.

"Don't worry, handsome. As soon as we get home, I'll make you feel better," you squeeze his hand before you start the car.

Spencer smiles, he can't say he's happy about being injured, but he is definitely happy to be loved on by you, "thank you, sweetheart. I can't wait."

[cumonstevie]

Home Sweet Home Part 3

Summary: "It's good to be home," you think as you arrive back in Hawkins, Indiana; not only three years older, but also as a mother.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Just a shit ton of fluff

A/N: This took 8 consecutive hours to write so I hope you guys like it!! It's 3.8k words 😬 my back hurts from slouching over my laptop for so long so I'll edit this later.

A year and a half later

You and Steve have been doing so well at co-parenting for Penelope thus far. You had slowly eased Steve into her life, and she happily accepted him. It took her a while to comfortably call him ‘dad’ but once she started, that’s practically all she could say.

Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the day when she confidently called him ‘dad’ without him or you having to tell her.

It was late at night- well, it was late for Penelope to still be awake, and you were trying everything to put her to sleep but she wouldn’t stop crying.

“Shhh, Penny, it’s okay.” You try to comfort her in your arms.

Her cries echo off your newly purchased apartment and you groan, rocking the toddler to try and calm her down.

Spoiler alert: It didn’t work.

“Baby, please calm down-”

“I want daddy!” She cries louder and you halt your movements.

“What?”

“I want daddy!” Penelope sobs in your arms.

“I-” You’re stunned for a moment because this was the first-time hearing Penelope call Steve ‘daddy’ on her own without you or him coaxing her to say it. “Daddy will come over tomorrow, okay? But you need to go-”

“No!” She yelled, “I want daddy now!”

It didn’t seem like she was going to let up any time soon, so you walk over to the phone and hastily dial Steve’s number. It was only 8 o’clock so you knew he’d still be up- hopefully.

It rang twice before he picked up. “Hello?”

“Steve,” you breathed. “Thank god you’re still awake. Listen, I know it’s kinda last minute but Penelope won’t go to sleep and she keeps crying and asking for you so do you think you could maybe-”

“I’ll be there in a bit. Leave the door unlocked for me, yeah?” You could hear him moving around at his place, probably putting his shoes on.

“Okay, thank you so much.” You let out a sigh of relief.

Penelope’s cries get louder and you think Steve can hear her because he murmurs, “My poor baby…” You hear his car keys jingling soon after. “I’m on my way.”

A few minutes go by and Steve knocks two times before coming in. You know he probably sped all the way over and you make a mental note to scold him after Penelope goes to sleep.

“I’m here,” he huffed out, seemingly out of breath.

Upon hearing Steve’s voice, Penelope lifts her head from your shoulder and turns to her father all teary-eyed. “Daddy!” She cried, leaning out of your arms and toward him.

He visibly freezes at her words and his eyes pan over to you, wide. “Did she just-” he’s cut off by your daughter's cries of ‘daddy’ as she tries to grab him. “Come here, baby. Daddy’s here, don’t worry, sweetheart.”

He rubs her back soothingly and she slowly lays her head on his shoulder, doing the little hiccup-sob combination as she starts to calm down.

“Daddy…” She cried, “Stay.”

“It’s okay, sweet girl.” He hushes. “Daddy’s not going anywhere, alright?”

This seems to ease her mind because a few minutes later, she’s fully asleep in his arms. You silently guide him to her room where you watch as he puts her down and tucks her in. She stirs a bit but Steve gently pats her chest and she stills.

Once the both of you were sure she wasn’t going to wake up, you exit her room and walk back to the living room. The moment you enter the room, Steve pulls you into a hug.

“She called me daddy.” He beamed happily. “She fucking called me daddy, oh my god I feel like my heart is gonna burst open, I’m so happy right now.”

You hug him back, giggling a bit. “Yeah, it surprised me too.”

The both of you stay like that for a bit before he tears himself away from you and checks the time.

“It’s getting late, I should head home.” He says with a bit of a frown. “I can come by tomorrow if it’s alright with you?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head. “You promised your daughter that you’d stay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

You tell him he can take your room and you’ll sleep on the couch, but he refuses and says he’ll sleep on the couch instead. You protest but he shuts it down and you let out a huff but say ‘okay’ before going to get him a spare pillow and blanket for the night. You had started easing Steve into Penelope’s life little by little, starting with him visiting her at your place whenever he could (which he made sure to visit every single day no matter what). After she was comfortable with him being around, you segued into him taking her out, whether it be to the park, or to get ice cream (you also tagged along so that she was more comfortable). From that, he started taking her out, just him and her and not too long after, she started staying the night at his house.

He had done up a spare bedroom at his place just for her and she loved it so much. He pulled out all the stops for his little girl. Telling his parents about Penelope was a bit rough. He told you that they were a bit skeptical about him being the father but when Steve whipped a picture of little Penelope out of his wallet and showed them, they went silent.

From there, they were disappointed that he was so careless that it resulted in a child. He told them that they could be mad at him all they want but that he has a daughter now and he’s stepping up and although he doesn’t have a great relationship with them, he would love it if Penelope did.

They were obviously a bit hesitant but after meeting Penelope, they let their guards down. It made Steve happy that they showered her with love and affection but it also made him a bit upset because he never really experienced that from them.

He felt like this was a turning point for them, though. A good turning point.

Today was Penelope’s 4th birthday party and Steve insisted that it should be at his house. You didn’t fight him on it. You figured his house would be better suited for a birthday party than your little apartment.

A knock on the door alerts your ears and you quickly glance into the backyard, seeing Steve run around with Penelope, before opening the front door.

“Sorry I’m late,” Eddie huffs out, “the band stayed and performed late and I didn’t get home till way later and then when I woke up I couldn’t remember where I put Pen’s gift so this whole morning I was tearing up my place looking for it.” He then shows you a poorly wrapped gift box with a smile. “But I found it.”

You giggle. “You didn’t miss much, Penny’s just been playing with the kids and Steve so far.”

“Thank god.” Eddie sighs. “Where do I put this?”

“We have a table outside for gifts. Come on.” You beckon him to follow you.

Eddie sets the gift on the table then makes his rounds saying hi to everyone. Steve is chasing Penelope around the yard and he lets out a playful roar as he picks her up and catches her. She screams and he laughs, giving her a kiss before setting her down carefully.

It was then that she spotted one of her favorite Uncle’s. “Uncle Eds!!”

The little girl runs over to Eddie as fast as she could, her pink tutu that she insisted on wearing even though it was cold outside, flowing about.

“Pen!” The curly-haired musician exclaimed as he knelt down and captured her in a hug. “How’s my favorite birthday girl?”

Penelope giggles. “Uncle Eds, I’m the only birthday girl!”

“You’re right.” He smiles before giving her a big kiss. “You’re getting so big, Pen. Don’t go growing up on me too fast.”

“Ima grow bigger and faster!”

“No! Don’t say that, I’ll cry!” Eddie pulls a dramatic frowny face which makes Penelope laugh.

Steve walks up beside you with his hands on his hips; a typical Steve Harrington pose. “Please tell her to stop saying that, she tells me all the time that she’s a big girl and it breaks my heart.”

Steve pouts at his daughter and she giggles in Eddie’s arms. “Daddy don’t be sad, when I get bigger ima take care of you!”

Steve’s eyebrow quirks up and he points a finger at her. “I’ll hold you to that, little lady.”

“She’s not getting bigger, not on my watch.” Eddie says as he squishes her in a hug. “I’m gonna squeeze you in a little box so you stay little forever!”

Penelope gasps. “No!”

“Yes!”

Penelope wiggles out of Eddie's grip and starts running away from him. “No! Never ever ever!”

Eddie runs after her, telling her that he’ll never let her grow up. You giggle, watching the two and Steve turns to you.

“Everyone here?” He asks.

“Yeah, Eds was the last one to show up.”

“Alright,” he nods. “I say we let her play for a little while longer then sing happy birthday?”

“I was thinking the same thing, Harrington.”

He points to his head, then to yours and says, “Great minds think alike, Y/L/N.”

It was fairly easy to slip back into your friendship with Steve. After the awkwardness of him finding out that Penelope was his, the two of you acted as if no time had passed. It was refreshing and you didn’t realize how much you missed being around him.

To say your feelings for Steve were gone, would be a lie. Your feelings for Steve never really went away. Even if you tried so very hard to leave them behind, they only grew more when Steve would play with Penelope or spend time with her in general. He adapted to his role as a father rather quickly and you weren’t going to lie, it was attractive.

You would never tell him, though. You didn’t want to ruin the dynamic that the two of you had. Everything, so far, was good.

You had tried going on a date a while back but it fell through once you told the guy that you had a child. Steve was very upset about it. The date had lasted less than an hour. You were having a good time, asking questions about each other when you mentioned you had a daughter. The guy’s demeanor changed quickly and he closed himself off. It was awkward after that. He confirmed that you had a daughter once more and when you said yes, he cleared his throat.

“Um, I’m sorry but I don’t think this is going to work out.” He says. “You’re a great girl but-”

“But me having a kid is a problem.” You finish his sentence in a mono-tone pitch.

“No!” The guys exclaimed. “It’s just- It’s kind of-”

He stumbles over his words, trying to save face but you shake your head and pull out money for your meal, placing it on the table.

“It’s fine. I know me having a child isn’t ideal but maybe you should try to at least be an adult about it.”

The guy scoffs. “I’m not about to play step-daddy to someone else’s kid.”

You roll your eyes and stand up. “Grow up.” You say before walking out.

You understand that dating someone who has a child could be a bit scary but he didn’t even give it a chance! He closed off the minute you mentioned Penelope.

You pull up to Steve’s house and slam your door shut in annoyance.

‘I’m not about to play step-daddy to someone else’s kid’

Get real.

You knock on the door and patiently wait for Steve to open it.

“Hey,” he says when he sees you on the other side. “Why are you here so early? I thought you had a date?”

“I did.” He can sense the annoyance in your voice and he moves aside to let you in. You put your purse down on his table and turn to face him. “He wasn’t too keen on the fact that I have a kid.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow and he’s about to ask what the dude said but it’s like you read his mind because you tell him.

“Said he’s not about to play step-daddy to a kid that’s somebody else’s.”

“What the hell?” He has a look of disgust flushed across his face.

“Yeah,” you nod. “He didn’t even wait a few minutes before he was telling me that it ‘wasn’t going to work out’ between us! The minute I mentioned Penny, he shut down.” You huff out, running your fingers through your now messy hair.

“What a dick!” Steve is visibly baffled. “Welcome to the real world! There’s a chance that you might date someone who has a kid!”

“Right?” You agree. “Like I get it, I’m young and I have a toddler and yeah that’s kind of scary but he didn’t even give it a chance!”

Steve’s hands are on his hips as he shakes his head. “God, what an asshole. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “Probably dodged a bullet anyway.”

“Definitely.”

“I’m never gonna date again. I’m gonna be lonely forever!” You groan.

“No you won’t,” Steve reassures as he pats your shoulder. “There’s someone out there who will want to be with you and doesn’t mind that you have a kid.”

“Suuuuuure,” you mumble. “When you find him, let me know, alright?”

Steve chuckled. “You got it, sweetheart.”

Penelope comes running into the room shortly after, practically leaping into your arms and you cradle her to you. She tells you that her and Steve are gonna watch movies all night long but both you and Steve know she’s most likely going to fall asleep in the middle of the first movie.

She asks if you’re going to stay and watch movies with them and Steve encourages you to do so.

“What, you’re gonna go home and sulk about what a crappy date this was? Nuh uh. Stay and watch movies with your family.” He tells you.

“Yeah!” Penelope adds. “Watch movies with family! Daddy got the movie with the kitties!”

Aristocats has been Penelope’s favorite movie recently.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay.”

Penelope is happy and the three of you move to the couch. Steve puts the movie in and Penny sits in between the two of you, knocking out exactly midway into the film.

Steve puts her in her room then comes back out, coaxing you to stay for another movie. It works and he pops in ‘Just One Of The Guys’. You two enjoy each other's company and toward the end of the movie, you and Steve are fast asleep on the couch.

You gathered everyone around the table that held the cake as Penelope climbed on top of the chair. Steve puts a pink birthday hat on her little head and she insists that both you and him put one on as well.

You oblige with her wishes and put a pink hat on. Jonathan wastes no time with taking pictures of the three of you. He’d develop them as soon as he could and give them to you.

Penelope’s eyes scanned the yard as she beamed happily at everyone. Both yours and Steve’s parents were there, the Party, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan- all in attendance for your daughter's fourth birthday party. Your heart swelled knowing all the people that were present loved your daughter just as much as you and Steve did.

You all sang happy birthday to Penelope and she blew out the candles, causing everyone to cheer.

“Wait!” She shouts with her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m still wishing!”

“Oh! Sorry, sweet girl. Everyone shhh!” Steve says.

Everyone quiets down and Penelope is heard murmuring underneath her breath but no one can make out what she’s saying. After a bit, she opens her eyes and smiles.

“I’m done!”

Everyone cheers again and you cut the cake and plate it while Steve hands them out. When Penelope’s done eating her slice of cake, you start opening the gifts.

“Okay, this one is from Uncle Dusty.” You hand her the gift and she tears it open excitedly.

“A tea party!!” She yells out happily, turning to her father. “Daddy, we can play tea party! Thank you, Uncle Dusty! You’re my favorite!”

Dustin tells the four-year-old that she’s welcome as he beamed at her words. Eddie, however, wasn’t taking it too well.

“What?!” He exclaimed. “What about me? I was your favorite earlier!”

Penelope giggles. “Uncle dusty gave me a tea party so he’s my favorite now!”

Eddie sulks as she continues to open her gifts and Dustin sticks his tongue out at the musician in a mocking manner. Not too long after, however, Penelope opens Eddie’s gift.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” She enunciated every word. “It’s a guitar!! Uncle Eds, it looks like the one you have!! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!!”

Although it was a toy guitar, you and Steve knew you would never know what silence felt like after this moment.

Steve rubs his face with his hands when he sees the gift. “Oh no…”

Penelope had been obsessed with Eddie’s guitar from the moment she saw it. She always wanted Eddie to play it and she always wanted to touch it. Eddie would tell you she was a musical prodigy in the making.

You and Steve give each other the same look before you say, “Say goodbye to the peacefulness.”

Steve groans while Penelope jumps up and down happily. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re my favorite now, Uncle Eds! We can play guitar together!!”

“Any time you want, Pen.” Eddie smiles at his niece before locking eyes with Dustin who stared at him with a blank face. Eddie mouths, “In your face!”

You finish up the gifts and the kids play with Penny for a little bit before you can tell that she’s beginning to get tired. You and Steve end the birthday party, thanking everyone for coming as they left. Once they were gone, Steve put Penelope down for a very much needed nap while you started picking up.

Steve joins you not too long after and when you’ve finished cleaning up, the pair of you slump down on the couch, exhausted.

“Penelope’s fourth birthday party was a success. Nice work, Y/L/N.” He raises his hand for a high-five, and you meet him halfway.

“Can’t take all the credit. You did most of the work.” You tell him.

“Yeah, but you gave birth to her. If you didn’t, we wouldn’t be here celebrating her turning four.” He smiles at you affectionately before his smile drops. “Oh my god, she’s four. My baby’s four.”

“Yep,” you nod. “And she’ll only get older from here.”

“Don’t remind me.” He pouts. “I want her to stay little forever.”

You laugh as he sulks for a bit. The two of you sit in silence and you close your eyes for a little before you feel Steve shift in his seat.

“Y/N?” He says and you open your eyes to find him facing you.

“Yeah?”

Steve bites his lip and his fingers tap against his jean-covered thigh. His habit every time he’s nervous.

“Um,” he starts. “We’ve been doing good, right? I mean, co-parenting and all.”

“Yeah…” You have no clue where this conversation is headed.

“And our relationship with each other is good. We don’t fight or argue or anything-”

“Steve,” you cut him off. “Spit it out already.”

You start to think he’s trying to ease into telling you that he was seeing someone, and you were preparing yourself to hear it, but his next words threw you off.

“I have feelings for you.” He says quickly and your eyebrows furrow as you sit up to look at him more clearly. “Well, I’ve always had feelings for you. They never went away. I just never said anything because you said you weren’t ready to revisit us romantically but, I don’t know, today just-” He sighs deeply, his fingers combing through his hair. “You look so beautiful today- well, you look beautiful every day and we work so well together that it got me thinking about what life would be like if we were, you know, together. As a couple.”

“Steve…”

“I know, okay? I know I fucked up back then and I know you’re hesitant but god, Y/N, you take up so much space in my head. You and Penny. That’s all I care about. That’s all I want and that’s all I’ll ever need. Ever since you walked out of my house almost five years ago, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I haven’t been on a date since- well, since I was with Nancy because I didn’t want to be with anyone else but you. I want to be with you, Y/N. I want us to be a family, officially. Me, you, and Penny in a big house. I wanna come home from work and know that I hit the jackpot because I get to see my two favorite girls every single day of my life. I want-” He takes a minute to breathe before he takes your hand softly. “I want you.”

He’s looking into your eyes and you just know that he means every word that he’s said just now.

You don’t know if it’s butterflies in your stomach or if you’re gonna throw up.

“Steve,” you breathe out.

“Please say you feel the same way.” He says softly. “If you don’t, that’s okay and we can just go back to how we were before I confessed all of this but if there’s even a slight chance that you feel the same way, please give me the chance to make you happy for the rest of your life.”

A smile makes its way to your lips and your eyebrow quirks up. “For the rest of my life, huh?”

“Mmm Hmm,” he hums. “For the rest of your life, for the rest of my life, for the rest of our lives… I’m in it for the long run.”

“Steve,” you say softly. You watch as the boy in front of you hangs on to your every word, anticipating what you’ll say next. He looks nervous and scared, but also hopeful. You lean in and kiss his cheek softly. His eyes close as he relishes in the feeling. “You’re in luck because I feel the same way.”

His eyes snap open and they sparkle in the light. “Really?”

“Really.” You giggle. “My feelings never went away either.”

“Oh my god.” He breathed out, pulling you into a hug.

You stay like that for a bit before pulling away. “I want to take this slow, though. I wanna do this right, I don’t want to rush things, Steve.”

He looks at you affectionately, rubbing the skin of your cheek with his thumb.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Y/N, as long as I get to be with you in the end.”

Tags:

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[anniebeemine]

Mom’s Night Out- s.r. x fem!reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, pure fluff

“You deserve a night out. You know you do,” JJ said firmly, her arms crossed as she stood in your living room.

You’d given a vague answer when they invited you out earlier in the day. Now, JJ and Emily were standing in your home, probably judging the sloppy bun at the nape of your neck and the rag thrown over your shoulder.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I know, I know. But it’s just...”

Emily cut in, raising an eyebrow. “It’s just what? They’re six months old, Y/N. Spencer’s more than capable of handling one night on his own.”

“I don’t know, ladies.” You looked over at Spencer who was currently talking over his shoulder to the baby strapped on his back, his hand cradling the baby on his front. They were going through a phase where they couldn’t sleep unless they were being bounced. “He’s never been alone with both of them.”

JJ and Emily exchanged amused glances, their expressions a mix of encouragement and mischief. “Come on, Y/N,” JJ urged, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “He’s going to be fine. You need a night out.”

“Yeah,” Emily chimed in, her tone playful. “It’s just a few hours. Spencer can handle it.”

You bit your lip, glancing back at Spencer. He was now making silly faces at Anthony, who giggled in delight, while Daniel babbled happily on his back. “I don’t know…” you hesitated, your protective instincts kicking in.

Spencer caught your eye and smiled reassuringly. “We’ll be okay,” he said softly. “Go have fun. The boys and I will manage.”

You sighed, feeling a mixture of anxiety and excitement. “Alright, but if anything happens, you call me immediately,” you warned, giving him a pointed look.

You disappeared upstairs and found an old dress and let your hair fall into crunchy waves. You ran a straighter over the waves in an attempt to smooth them out. Forgoing makeup, you met your two friends downstairs. You reminded Spencer to have the boys back in bed before long.

“Or else they’ll be up early and-“

Spencer raised his eyebrows. “I’m telling you think because I love you, but go,” he said softly. “Get out of here.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, placing a kiss to the twins’ scalp before placing one on Spencer’s cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

With one last look at Spencer and the boys, you headed out the door with your friends, a sense of freedom washing over you. Spencer watched you go, the door closing behind you with a soft click. He turned his attention back to the twins, smiling at their innocent faces. "Alright, boys, it's just us tonight," he said, his voice filled with determination. "Let's show Mommy we can handle this."

“To the bar!” Penelope cheered as you got into the backseat with Emily.

“I thought we were going for dinner?” You said meekly.

Emily wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “We can get food at the bar.

-

It was well past midnight when Spencer's phone rang, waking him from a light sleep. He answered quickly, hearing your slightly slurred but happy voice on the other end.

"Spence, I need a ride home," you said, giggling.

Spencer rubbed his eyes and glanced at the twins, who were sound asleep in their cribs that had been stationed in your bedroom. "Okay, where are you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice low.

“JJ’s.” You hicupped. “Called an Uber.”

Spencer smiled despite his grogginess. "I'm glad you did. I'll be there soon. Just stay with Penelope, alright?"

"Yes, sir," you teased, your giggle echoing through the phone.

He got up and gently transferred the sleeping twins into their car seats, taking extra care not to wake them. Once they were securely fastened, he carried them to the car and headed to JJ's house.

When he arrived, you were waiting outside with JJ, Emily, and Penelope, all of you looking a bit worse for wear but incredibly happy. You were slumped against the porch railing. You spotted him and ran over, nearly tripping in your excitement. Emily handed Spencer the shoes you’d kicked off earlier.

"Spence!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him. "You're my husband!" You turned around to the girls, practically parading Spencer around as he smiled widely. “You guys are not going to believe how amazing this guy is,” you slurred.

He chuckled, catching you before you could fall. "Let's get you home."

“My babies!” You whisper shouted, climbing into the front seat. Spencer tried to help you as you wiggled over the console and into the backseat, settling between the two car seats.

You leaned over to Anthony, placing a kiss on his cheek, then on his forehead. You did the same to Daniel. Spencer smiled at the red lipstick smudged over his son’s faces. “Are we ready?”

You nodded giddily, one hand on each twin. As the car started moving, you let out a dramatic sigh. "Spence, I need something greasy," you slurred, your eyes half-closed. "Like, fries. And a burger. So greasy."

He chuckled, his heart swelling with affection. "Alright, let's find you some greasy food."

He pulled into the drive-thru of a nearby burger joint, ordering your favorite meal. As he waited for the food, he glanced back at the boys, who were still sound asleep, then over at you, your eyes struggling to stay open.

Once he had the food, he parked the car in the lot and handed you the bag. You eagerly tore into it, a blissful smile spreading across your face as you took the first bite of your burger.

"Oh my god, this is amazing," you mumbled around a mouthful of food. "You're the best, Spence." You leaned across the console, running your hand up his arm. “Like the greatest freaking husband ever. Like ever.”

“Am I?” He teased, placing a fry between your lips.

You nodded, bringing your hand to his shoulder. “Like so great. You-“ you turned away to let out a small burp, “you took care of my babies. Our babies.”

Spencer laughed softly, his eyes filled with love and amusement. "Of course I did. They're my babies too."

You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes briefly as you savored another bite of the burger. "You don't know how much I needed this," you said, your voice softer now.

Spencer watched you with a tender smile, his heart swelling with affection. He adored you in every state, but seeing you so relaxed and happy made him fall in love with you all over again.

"Anything for you," he said quietly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "You deserve it."

You finished your meal, your head starting to droop as the exhaustion from the night caught up with you. "I think I'm gonna pass out," you mumbled, leaning your head against the front seat.

As he drove the rest of the way home, he kept glancing over at you, your peaceful expression bringing a smile to his face. He felt incredibly lucky to have you and the boys, and he couldn't imagine life without you. When he finally pulled into the driveway, he carefully carried the twins inside first, tucking them into their cribs before returning to the car to help you.

You were half-asleep by then, but you managed to wrap your arms around his neck as he lifted you. "You're my Spencer," you mumbled again, your head resting against his shoulder.

Spencer carefully helped you out of the car, your arms looped around his neck for support. You were still slightly tipsy, your legs unsteady beneath you as you stumbled into the house.

"Let's get you out of that dress," he said softly, guiding you to the bedroom. He gently unzipped the back of your dress, helping you ease out of it and into something more comfortable. Just as you were about to thank him, a wave of nausea hit you hard.

"Oh god," you groaned, rushing to the bathroom with Spencer close behind. You barely made it to the toilet before you started throwing up, the remnants of your burger and alcohol making an unpleasant reappearance.

Spencer knelt beside you, holding your hair back and rubbing soothing circles on your back. "It's okay, just let it out," he murmured, his voice calm and reassuring.

When you were finally done, you slumped against him, utterly exhausted. He grabbed a washcloth, wetting it with cool water and gently wiping your face. "There we go," he said softly, his touch tender. "Feel a little better?"

You nodded weakly, feeling a bit embarrassed but grateful for his care. "Thank you," you whispered, leaning into him as he helped you back to the bedroom.

He tucked you into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You were out before you could respond, the exhaustion and the alcohol pulling you into a deep sleep.

When you finally woke up, the sun was high in the sky, indicating it was well past noon. You groaned, your head pounding as you dragged yourself out of bed. Padding to the living room, you found Spencer on the floor with the twins, stacking blocks and making them giggle.

"Never drinking again," you mumbled, rubbing your temples.

Spencer looked up, a knowing smile on his face. "Was it the green fairy?" he asked, his tone teasing.

You squinted at him, confused. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," he said with a wink, turning back to the boys.

You plopped down on the couch, watching as he played with the twins. Despite the rough night, seeing him with your sons brought a smile to your face. "You're amazing, you know that?" you said, feeling a surge of love for him.

He glanced up, his eyes warm and affectionate. "I just want to take care of you," he said simply. “Open my phone. There’s a picture of you guys.”

Curious, you reached for his phone on the coffee table and unlocked it. The screen displayed a photo of a drunk you between the two car seats, your face beaming with a silly grin. The next photos were of the twins, fast asleep, with smudges of red lipstick on their chubby cheeks.

You took a sip of Spencer’s coffee, chuckling as you mumbled, "I have no idea where the red lipstick came from."

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

prompt #5 with conrad!! maybe reader and conrad are best friends but there's always been tension and one night they make out (maybe in the pool or on the dock?) but reader freaks out about it when she goes bed and decides the next day to act normal and pretend like it didn't happen so it doesn't make their relationship weird <3

This request is so old, I'm very sorry to the anon who sent it... I forgot to finish the ending and post

—

Ever since that silly spin the bottle game in Oliver’s basement when you were thirteen years old, you’ve been dying to kiss your best friend. You hadn’t realized what the fire of jealousy in your guts meant when you saw Penelope and Mariah kissing Conrad as a result of the game, but you did three years later when he told you about Aubrey. 

Their relationship didn’t last until summer. So, when the Fishers came back to Cousins, he was your Conrad again. 

That summer, you could write a full journal about the many almost-kisses, more-than-friends gestures and special attention between you and him.  

Unfortunately, nothing happened until two summers later. 

It was late, you and Conrad were sitting in his backyard, talking on the poolside with your feet dipping in the water. Sometimes you would have a night dip, but the moon was full above your heads, which added a chill to the night air.  

And then, it happened.

Conrad kissed you. The world around you blurred from the gentle way he was cupping your cheek as his lips pressed against yours, the chirp of the crickets fading into white noise, and for that brief moment, it was just the two of you. 

As you were sneaking back inside your house, you fought an urge to scream. It finally happened. Conrad had kissed you. Thirteen-years-old you would never believe it. You flopped down on your bed and squeezed your pillow, needing to exteriorize your excitement without waking your parents. 

You couldn't wait to see him again tomorrow. To greet him with a kiss and watch the look on your friends’ faces. 

What if that kiss was a mistake though? You both wanted it when it happened, but what if tomorrow Conrad regrets it? Or, what if you get together and then realize it’s not working and break up? No exes stay friends after breaking up. Your grin was immediately wiped from your face, the fear of losing Conrad settling in. 

You made sure to keep your distances the following day. You tried to not make it too obvious that Conrad would catch on, but just enough so he wouldn’t make another move on you. Even if you were yearning for another kiss. 

‘’Do you want to go on the boardwalk?’’ Conrad asked, leaning on the kitchen island as you were eating cherries from the fruit bowl. 

You nodded, swallowing before speaking. ‘’Sure. Who else is coming?’’ 

 ‘’Just me and you.’’ 

Suddenly, the boardwalk didn’t seem like a good idea. Being alone with Conrad didn’t seem like a good idea. 

‘’I don’t know…’’ you hesitated, glancing outside and seeing the bright sun. ‘’Isn’t it a bit hot to go on rides? I don’t want to get a heatstroke.’’ 

Conrad hummed. It wasn’t that hot, in his opinion, but he didn’t push. ‘’We could go in the pool? I think Steven and Jeremiah are already in there.’’

The four of you played volleyball for a bit. You usually teamed with Conrad, but you decided to switch and play with Jeremiah instead...which turned out to be a mistake. Your team wasn't doing great; Jeremiah was terrible at volleyball and you were much shorter than your opponents. You tried bringing up the unfair disadvantage, but Steven’s phone went off and he had to meet with Shayla. Jeremiah followed suit, seeing Belly was back from her debutante lesson. 

Which left you and Conrad alone. 

You felt him pass under the volleyball net and come up behind you, but you disappeared underwater and swam away. Unfortunately, your tactic must not have been as smooth as you thought because Conrad saw through your plan and called you out on it. 

‘’Is this what we do now? Making out and then never talking about it?’’ he questioned, sounding more disappointed than mad, which pinched your heart. 

You were caught off guard by his words, not expecting him to be so blunt. ‘’What do you want me to say?’’ you replied, your tone a pinch too defensive.

The pool's rippling water seemed to mirror the tension between you two. 

Conrad exhaled deeply. ‘’Why are you acting like nothing happened? Because last night you were pretty into it and now you’re pushing me away.’’ 

You closed your eyes, remembering his hand under your shirt as you were kissing by the poolside, groping and massaging your tits in a way that made your panties wet. You wanted to experience it again. 

‘’Last night was a mistake. We…we can’t.’’ You shook your head, stepping back as Conrad swam to you again. ‘’It’ll ruin our friendship and I don’t want to lose you as a friend—’’

‘’I don’t want us to be friends anymore. I want more.’’ He reached under the water to grab your hand. ‘’How many times do I have to say it until you get it?’’

—

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[reiderwriter]

Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You🃏

Chapter 1 of That's What You Get

Next Chapter

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise one of those sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs. Reid.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, loss of memory, marriage (yeah that needs a warning), mommy issues, mentions of emotional abuse, implied sex scene, use of handcuffs in a sexual way, they theorize a possible creampie but I will neither confirm nor deny at this point, talk of contraception, no actual smut though, you guys are gonna have to wait for that. 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: The first chapter is here! Sorry for drawing you in with a silly little premise and then giving you mommy issues, I swear that after this chapter it's not bought up all that much. If you enjoy this chapter, you can sign up to the series taglist here, check out my masterlist and if you want leave a request! :D have fun reading!! ✨

Las Vegas, city of sin and entertainment capital of the world. Population approximately 600,000, home to the most famous casinos in the world, and unluckily for you, your latest unsub.

You’d been in Vegas for three weeks trying to hunt down this specific murderer, but now the case was all wrapped up and you could finally breathe, the weight of the stress you’d been carrying for almost a month now dissolving as you finally finished up the paperwork in the local precinct.

“Thank god that’s over. I cannot wait to be in bed with a good book and an empty head,” you groaned as you met the eyes of Penelope Garcia, your favorite tech analyst in the entire world and absolutely the only one you knew. She’d ended up having to join you on this case because some of the crime scenes just happened to be casinos that weren’t so happy sharing their data, but also didn’t want to be lumped with the warrant from the FBI. She’d been working between their offices and the precinct, and looked just as haggard as you felt.

“Oh, I feel you sister, this free travel experience thing is nice, but I would like to be back at my own perfect little desk hovel ASAP, thank you very much.” The two of you shared a small laugh, and then began collecting your stuff.

“Come on now, baby girl, you’re telling me that you don’t want to hit up the strip while we’re here? See the sights a little?”

“Sweet cheeks, I have been working from the most harrowing of surveillance units all week on that very strip. I have already seen the sights and they were not pretty, and definitely not worth using up my precious vacation time for.”

“Unfortunately Garcia, I don’t think you’ll be needing to use any of that vacation time to stay here,” Hotch announced as he walked in, and every member of your team snapped to attention to hear what he had to say. “I just got off the phone with Quantico, there’s a storm cloud moving in directly in our flight path and we haven’t been cleared for take off. They’re extending our stay by another day.”

“Shit,” you let out a silent curse, and noticed that your other team members didn’t seem all that happy about it either. JJ quickly excused herself from the room to call Will, Garcia let out a faux sob and fell back into her chair, and Rossi had the look of abject Italian disappointment on his face that he usually only got when you talked about your love of pineapple on pizza.

“How’s about that drink now, baby girl?” Derek Morgan teased, but it was half-hearted and you knew it. You were all desperate for bed, and you could only imagine the mistakes you would make if you went drinking now after the month you’d all just survived.

The only member of the team who didn’t seem put out quite yet was Reid, but you chalked that up to the fact that this place was his hometown.

“If you guys do change your mind, I know a bar downtown where you’re 34% less likely to be propositioned, robbed or over-charged.” He smiled over at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle knowing the man was 100% serious.

“Dare I ask how you found that statistic, Reid?” Emily inquired from the other corner.

“One part actually reading the annual crime report, one part personal experience?” Reid replied, and you laughed again, unable to hold it back.

“Count me out, thank you,” you replied, and you could have sworn for a second you saw a flash of disappointment flash over his features, but you didn’t get the chance to question it, because a call was lighting up your phone screen.

You quickly excused yourself and moved to pick up the call from your mother.

“Mom, hey, what’s up?”

“What, I can’t check in on my daughter now for no reason?” you sighed and rubbed your temples, knowing exactly how this phone call was going to go, because it was how the last ten calls home had.

“Yes, mom, of course you can. How are you?”

“Terrible. Cindy’s daughter is getting married, and it’s all she’s talking about now. Can you believe it? The girl was absolutely wild when you were friends with her in high school and now she’s settling down with a lawyer of all people. Someone should warn that young man before he realises what he’s got himself into,” she scoffed on the other end of the line and you did your best to not get worked up. If you got angry it only made her more self-richeous.

“I know, Mom, Jessica sent me an invite, and I’m sure Trevor knows exactly what he’s getting into since they’ve been dating since high school.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You never tell me anything.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m in the middle of a case right now, can I call you back later?” You did your best to escape the conversation before it devolved into something you really didn’t want to talk about, like yourself, and more specifically your love life. But the gorgon had you frozen through the line and you weren’t about to make the mistake of hanging up on her.

“I’m sure your boss could spare you for five minutes, over-working you like he does. You haven’t had the time off to come and visit me since you got that fancy little job of yours, so you can do me this favor at least.”

“Sure, mom.” At times like this, you knew it was best to just let her talk and ride out the wave.

“And I’m sure you don’t even have time to date. Are you taking care of yourself, at least? Making sure you’re at least presentable, I hope? Its like I always say, you could meet your future husband in one of those precincts, you know. Get a big, strong man to take care of you.”

You had to resist the urge to throw your phone. You’d explained to your mother time and time again that you were perfectly content being the big, strong man for yourself, but there was absolutely no getting through to her. You received one of these phone calls everytime one of her friends or coworkers kids announced an engagement, got pregnant or bought a house, three things that she was desperate for you to do, as well. As soon as you saw the instagram post from Jessica you’d been counting down the days, almost thankful for your mothers lack of online presence.

“A crime scene isn’t exactly the most charming of meet cutes, Mom.”

“Well, then what about Virginia? There are some fine men working at the FBI surely. What about that one coworker of yours, what was his name?” Your heart-race increased for a moment, praying she wasn’t about to put a thought in your head that you wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Derek Morgan, was it? Now, that’s a fine young man.” This time you couldn’t stop the startled cry that came from your mouth. Sure, Morgan was an incredibly attractive man, but he’d joked around with you like a brother ever since you’d taken down your first unsub with the team. Your team was your family and your support system on the road, and they had your back on the case, so really, had your mother said anything, you’d have responded with incredulous guffawing. Hotch was like your dad, Rossi a fun Great-Uncle or something. You saw the sister’s you’d never had in JJ and Emily and of course Garcia was your best friend and you shared so many likes and dislikes that you regularly joked about being long-lost twins separated at birth. And Reid was Reid.

“Just give dating some thought, would you at least? The clock is ticking for you, you know.”

“Mom, I’m not even thirty yet. I’m in no rush.”

“That's what your Aunt Linda said, and look at her.” Your Aunt Linda was a perfectly content single woman in her late forties who had a high paying executive job, in NYC of all places, so yeah, you were in no rush at all.

“Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go, Hotch is calling me into the office to talk about some case files. I’ll speak to you later?”

“God, it’s like you don’t even want to talk to your mother for even five minutes. Go on, then, go do your big fancy job. Call me soon.”

“Yeah, Mom, I will.” And with that you finally hung up. Running a hand through your hair you paused for a breath for a second, closing your eyes and letting your hand just grip your hair for a second before releasing your breath for a second.

In the grand scheme of things, you knew that your mom wasn’t all that much to complain about. You and Emily had bonded over your respective mommy issues early in your time on the team, and you knew a lot of the other team members were either lacking some family member or the other, so you were just thankful that she was still around to annoy you, but god did she make it difficult sometimes.

Realising that any second, you’d have one profiler or the other come find you and ask you (with the best of intentions) what was wrong, you plastered a smile on your face and walked back into the office. You didn’t exactly want to relive that call anytime soon.

“Back so soon, Y/N? I thought that was your mom,” Morgan questioned you when you stepped back in.

“Yeah it was. One of my friends from highschool is getting married and you know how she loves to gossip.” You’d learnt early in the profession that you were in that the best way to hide something was to tell the truth about it for as long as you could, and then change the subject.

“Hey, Reid, you still up for a drink at that bar?” You looked hopefully at the man in the corner, and prayed noone would bring up your absolute change in attitude. “I was thinking a glass of wine or two after a successfully closed case couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Yeah, sure. You wanna head back to the hotel first and change, or do you want to go from here? Hotch said we’re free now until 2pm tomorrow.” You could see a questioning look from Morgan to your left, but you kept your vision focused on Reid, quietly thankful for the rest of the teams disinterest.

“Give me five to drop off my badge and gun in my room and freshen up a bit and we can be on our way. If this bar is bad though, Reid, you know I’m never letting you hear the end of it, right?”

“I ran the statistics, there’s only a 14% chance you’ll dislike it.”

“You know what’s scary is, I can’t even tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

–x–

Sarcasm or no, you had to admit, the bar he’d taken you to was pretty nice. It was a low-lit bar only a twenty minute taxi ride from your hotel and whilst it wasn’t exactly on the strip, it wasn’t so far out to be inconvenient. The best part about it was that it was lined with bookshelves, and each booth was blocked off by another, making it feel more like a library than a watering hole. You almost forgot you were in Vegas when you stepped in.

“Yeah, this is definitely a Spencer Reid place,” you said as you took the final swig of your wine, the glass you’d ordered on arrival having gone down easier than you’d expected.

“How so?” Spencer said as he returned to your table, carrying the replacement drinks he’d gone to order with him.

“Come on, Spencer. I’ve never seen the inside of your apartment but I’m sure it’s just this place with less furniture and more books.”

“Y/L/N, are you profiling me right now? Because that sounds pretty close to profiling?” Spencer teased and you rolled your eyes at him, grabbing your next drink from him and giving it a stir - the wine was good but at the price per glass you’d decided maybe cocktails were the thing for tonight.

“Besides, you did mention wanting to curl up with a book tonight, so I thought this bar was probably a good fit for you too.”

“Whose profiling who now, Doctor?” It was his turn to roll his eyes, and he took a sip of his drink. You knew he didn’t drink that often, but he seemed pretty open to the idea tonight, and you were absolutely glad for the company.

“Okay, I won’t profile if you don’t, but do you mind me asking you a question, Y/N?”

“Fire away,” you were playing with the stirrer in your cocktail, waiting for him to ask the question but he’d hesitated for a moment before speaking again, causing you to look up directly into his eyes.

“What’s going on with you and your mom? I don’t mean to pry and I didn’t overhear any of your call earlier or anything, but when you came in again you were all tense and you had that strained smile on your face. Then you suddenly changed your mind and decided we should get drinks so, I’m just guessing here, but you could probably do with talking about it, right?”

You let out a groan and let your head hang a bit. Yeah, you were starting to regret taking that role in the team of profilers. But at least Reid was sincere, and you knew his intentions were good. Of all the members of the team, you’d probably have described him as the safest. It was strange to think, considering all the comfort you found in your other friends, but there was just something so reassuring about Reid’s presence, the way most people overlooked him at first, how he could easily fall into his work and how you could see the cogs moving in his head as he made one genius leap to another that just made you think that everything was going to be okay if he was there.

So because it was him, you decided to talk.

“She’s just…She’s just a little much sometimes, you know?” He smiled back a knowing smile, but didn’t try to add anything and encouraged you to keep going.

“She’s been really persistent recently in bothering me about hitting some of lifes big milestones - marriage, kids, you know? And it always leaves me in a panic because though I’m pretty sure I want those things just yet, I don’t want the pressure of having them yet.” You swallowed the bile in your thoat and continued

“Everytime she says something, I feel bad that I don’t have them. And the way she talks about them its like they’re some kind of… of personal failure, that I’m not trying hard enough to catch a man or something, and I just wonder what if she’s right?” You start slow but you feel yourself gaining pace as you begin rambling, by the end you’re left wondering if Reid even caught any of that.

“I’m perfectly content living alone, but what if I’m secretly not, and I end up forty and alone and can’t even get a guy to look at me.”

“I can pretty confidently say that that’s not going to happen, Y/N.” Reid replied when you finally grabbed your drink ready to take another sip.

“How come?”

“You won’t have to put any effort into catching a man, Y/N.” Reid replied.

“You’re saying that because you’re my friend and you care about me Reid, of course you think that.”

“No, I’m saying that as an FBI Profiler that’s noticed the barman, the man on a date in the corner and the group of guys smoking outside the door eye you up since we’ve been here. And considering we’ve been doing paperwork all day, and the only change in your appearance since 8am this morning was the fresh coat of chapstick you put on while we were in the taxi, I’d think you hadn’t really put that much thought into what you look like right now.”

“You’re exaggerating,” and you really believe that, until you turn to look at the guy on the date and see him avert his gaze from you quickly, and you realise there might be something in what he’s saying.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t mean that I need or want to hear those things from my mother.”

“Y/N, take it from me, mother’s can be complicated.”

“God, I feel so stupid talking to you about something so trivial with my mom, I shouldn’t be doing that, we’re here to have fun.”

“Y/N, its okay. I can do the mommy issues talks, I’m perfectly qualified, but…” he trails off and grabs his drink for another sip and you find yourself hanging off his words begging for him to bring you more comfort and spoken caresses.

“But what, Reid?” you finally ask, as you realise he’s dragging this out on purpose to tease you a little.

“But how about a distraction instead? Have you ever been in a Las Vegas casino with a man that is banned from gambling in most of them?” He wiggled his eyebrows a little as he asked that and you giggled again, grateful for the reprieve from the serious talk.

“That doesn’t sound all that fun, Spencer.”

“Oh yeah, it’s not, but we could always use those vouchers we got as a token of appreciation earlier in the bars and drink some pretty fancy alcohol?”

“Spencer Reid, you are finally speaking my language.”

“I’m still speaking English Y/N, but if you wanted me to switch to russian or some other language, I could accommodate that depending on your linguistic preference.”

“It was a joke, Spence, now let’s get out of here.”

With that, he stood and dramatically offered you his hand like a gentleman, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow when you took it and guiding you swiftly out of the sweet bar. You were with Spencer, your safe friend, close work colleague and probably the least likely member of the BAU Team to get into trouble in a bar in Vegas. What’s the worst that could happen? You thought, as you took a final step out into the humid night air of Las Vegas.

–X–

The first thing you noticed in the morning was the pounding in your head, and it was pretty much the only thing you noticed for quite some time. When you managed to finally unglue your eyes, the second thing you noticed that this definitely wasn’t your room. The third thing you noticed was the gaping hole in your memories that explained how you possibly could’ve ended up wherever it was that you were. Or really any memories from the night before at all.

Letting out a quick groan you sit up in bed and take stock of your surroundings. Although the layout is different, you quickly recognise the interior matches the hotel you’ve been staying at, so you’re thankful that you’re at least somewhere relatively safe, and most likely in familiar company. The room looks to be neat on the whole, but there’s obvious signs of a drunken escapade strewn everwhere - two champagne flutes and a drained bottle, the contents of your purse spilt onto the chair in the corner, some random balloons in the corner you must have picked up somewhere in a drunken stupor, your clothes discarded in a trail to the bed.

That last one wakes you up a little bit more, and almost embarrassingly, you look down at yourself and see your lack of clothing, pulling the covers of the quilt closer to you as you feel yourself flush.

Fuck.

There’s a shifting in the bed next to you, and you look down in horror to see exactly which member of your team got you so plastered last night. You try to move to see who it is, but theres a tightness around your wrist and you’re pulled right back down into bed. You look down at your arm, and that’s when you realise you’re really screwed.

There, around your wrist and restraining you against the bed, is a set of handcuffs. FBI standard. The insinuation flames your face as you whip around to see which close friend and coworker you maybe - possibly - hooked up with last night, too embarrassed to look at your hand any more.

Luckily, your mystery man shifts again, and you catch sight of the nest of brown curls right before he turns over to see you, so when you finally meet the eye of Doctor Spencer Reid, you don’t scream in surprise.

“Y/N? What are you doi-” he cuts himself off as he lets his eyes trail down your body, quickly noticing your state of undress and pulling himself up into a seated position. He is similarly disrobed and it takes all of your strength to pull your gaze away from his bare chest to look literally anywhere else, your face practically flaming now.

“Spencer, would you mind helping me out over here?” you manage to squeak out quickly, as he does his best to avoid your eyes. “I seem to be a little stuck?”

That draws his attention back to you, and he finally notices the strange position of your arms and the handcuffs keeping you pinned to that spot in the bed.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry, fuck,” he quickly pulls on the pants he discarded by his side of the bed and scrambles over to you, tripping over once in his haste.

“Do you know where the key is?” you ask as he arrives at your side again, your free hand clutching the sheets over your breasts like your life depended on it.

“If that’s my pair they should be in the safe in the nightstand with my creds, give me a second to look.” After a second, he reaches the aforementioned safe box, pulling it open. He roots around inside it for a few seconds and then he spots something ad you watch the blood drain from his face.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you spit out quickly, tongue still heavy, and lips probably still swollen, from the night before, so you trip over the words a little. He pulls out the keys from the draw, and you let out a sigh of relief, but you’re still tense as he reaches back inside the draw and pulls out something else.

“Y/N, there wouldn’t happen to be a ring on that hand would there?” Spencer still isn’t looking at you, still staring intently at whatever else is in his hands. You try to angle your head to look, but between the restraints and the fact that Reid had turned his back to you couldn’t quite see what it was.

“What? No, I don’t wear a ring on this hand-” you cut yourself off abruptly as you look down and see it. There on the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that is still chained to the bed by your partners handcuffs, is a ring. There’s a ring on your ring finger. You just woke up in Las Vegas with no memory, in your coworkers room, naked, with a ring on your ring finger.

Your heart drops to your ass as you snap your head back around to Spencer, who finally works up the courage to look you in the eye.

“I think you should look at this” he stutters out and finally presents you with the other item he pulled out of the draw. Your jaw drops open and the pounding in your head turns into a continuous buzzing as you see yourself presented with a marriage liscence. Pinned to the corner with a paperclip is a polaroid picture, and you recognise yourself and your clothes from the night before, with the addition of a veil and bouquet, your arms slung around Reid’s neck as he pulls you in for what you can assume was a pretty passionate kiss.

“Y/N I think we got married last night.”

For a second you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. This was not happening, not to you, not right now. How stupidly drunk could you have gotten to have actually gone and married someone you weren’t even dating. And considering your current lack of clothing, it was dawning on you that you had probably done a little bit more than what was in that photo.

“Spencer unlock these handcuffs right now, so help me God,” you breathed deep and screwed your eyes shut, hoping that wihtout the distraction of the glaring lights you’d be able to remember some of what you’d done last night, but nothing came to you.

Reid, for what it was worth, got you unlocked quickly. You winced slightly as you pulled your arm away from the position it’d been in for however many hours.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have undone those last night, I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m usually pretty good at remembering stuff like that.” Reid rambled, running a hand through his hair and pacing slightly at your side of the bed. You pushed yourself up and watched him for a minute, just looking at this man who was now, probably, your husband.

Your husband.

You shook the thought from your head and cut his rambling off quickly.

“You put me in these?” you asked, just desperate for any clarification on any of the events of the last 24 hours, not fully grasping the implications of what you were asking until Reid was looking down at you with a flushed face and a mouth gaping like a fish, struggling to find the words to say.

“This is my hotel room. Those are my handcuffs… I kind of just assumed…” he trailed off the thought and you were right with him, the embarrassment heating your face just as much as it had his. You found it hard to meet his eyes the, and dropped yours to your lap.

“So you don’t remember, either?” You almost sighed in relief at that. If even a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory was in this state after a night of drinking, then you really couldn’t be blamed for getting so drunk you married your coworker and most likely had some pretty kinky sex with him, remembering absolutely nothing on top of that at all.

“Do you need me to grab you something to wear?” he asked as he looked down at you, letting his gaze trail probably a little bit too low for a little bit too long. You grew heated under his stare, as your body reacted, and you realised how easy it must have been to fall underneath him last night if this was how you were feeling from just one look.

But you pulled yourself out of those thoughts quickly, and it seemed that so did he, as he began grabbing clothes from the floor and handing them to you, turning away as you started getting yourself into a semi-decent state.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you heard Reid mumble to himself as he made his way around the side of the bed, and in your concern for him, you called out.

“Anything specific those curses were for, Spence? Because I know this isn’t exactly the most ideal situation, but four Spencer Reid swears in a row is a cause for concern.” You tried to joke, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety of your predicament.

“I can’t find…” he started and then dragged a hand over his face, trying to wipe the exhaustion from his eyes. “Y/N, I think we didn’t use protection.” You could see him panicking now, and for a second you thought of joining him too, but you crossed the room and grabbed his arms.

“Spencer, look at me, it’s fine. If we did end up… doing that, I’m on birth control, and we probably have time to grab something extra just to make sure, right?” he looked down at you then and after a moments hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m so stupid for suggesting we go to that casino bar last night, I don’t know what I was thinking. You even said last night that this wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, right now, god I’m an idiot, you don’t deserve this.” He buried his face in your neck and held you tight, and you pulled yours up to his back, rubbing circles into his skin slowly.

“Spencer, listen to me. I can think of noone I would have rather had a shotgun Vegas marriage with, okay? This isn’t your fault, we were both drunk, and I’m sure a Reid who was thinking straight could give me some kind of statistic about inhibitions dropping with a certain amount of alcohol.”

“A study in the United Kingdom found that there was an increase of risky sexual behavior in young people who had participated in binge drinking, including unprotected sex with a new partner and the use of emergency contraceptives and I’m not sure why I’m still talking when that was probably rhetorical, right?” You smiled at his panic, finding him just as endearing as ever, even in this predicament.

“What I’m saying, Spencer, is that we’re going to be okay. This isn’t the first time someone has gotten married in Vegas on a whim. Hell, this isn’t even the first time it’s happened to someone on our team. In a sense, this was a very traditional wedding.”

He groaned into your neck again and you laughed up at him. Sure, you were panicked still, but just having him in your arms there sharing his honest feelings with you instead of bottling it up and leaving you to deal with it on your own in your head too was doing you a world of good, and you found the words you used to reassure him soothing you, too, in turn.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. One, find the nearest pharmacy. Two, find whatever Elvis-inspired love shack wrote that marriage license and figure out if it’s actually legally binding. Three, avoid all of our coworkers until 2pm. How does that sound?”

Reid pulled himself out of your neck then, and you were almost sad at the loss of that warmth near you.

“It sounds like I made the smartest choice of a wife I was ever going to make,” he smiled down at you.

“Oh you got jokes now, Doc? I see.”

“Thought I should let you know all my deep dark secrets now we’re married.” You shared a laugh, and standing there amongst the debris of the night before, despite all the mistakes, you knew you were safe, and that the two of you would always be safe together.

🏷️ @sailortongue @bethanyhaas01 @reidscaffeine @high-functioning-cosplayer @average-sunflower @multifandom-on-the-side @anniewhalelover @prentissesredtanktop @abbyshmaby @academiareid @hugyourlungs @w-windy @babybluecakes @SwaggySagieWagie@reidandhotchsgirl @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @Zaapsite @daddy-dotcom @bluecandycake

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"concrete" - hotch x fem!bau!reader

your crush on your boss is so nearly at its breaking point; based on the request found here

cw: canonical violence, mutual pining, mild miscommunication, not a happy ending but not an unhappy ending lmao sorry luv ya

word count: 1.4k

------

You’ve been crushing on your boss for exactly ten months and nine days. You’ve known him for close to a year, but when you think about it, that two month difference in time is just about what it takes to warm up to Aaron Hotchner. 

He was a statue when you first met him. Unwavering, stoic, and maybe even a little strict (definitely very strict). He didn’t crack a smile around you until the first case you ever worked with the BAU was wrapped up, and he definitely didn’t make any jokes until much later on. You discovered underneath the stalwart, brick wall you met was the same man, only softer. Like one of those hard-shell candies with a jelly center. He was incredibly kind, patient, observant, and honorable. 

And he would do anything for anyone on his team at the drop of a hat. 

You also got to see the more playful side of him as you got to know him, as your caseload with the BAU only grew. Sure, he was a stickler for paperwork and procedure, but was he though? 

You once saw him take over a report JJ was supposed to finish so she could make it to Henry’s t-ball game. You definitely witnessed him reassuring Penelope that it was okay that she hacked into the Interpol database for info on an UnSub, and when Derek needed help tracking down his cousin in Chicago, Hotch had the whole team pitch in, which was certainly some kind of ethics violation. 

Little did you know that Aaron was crushing on you, too. He didn’t word it that way in his head, of course, but the second he watched you stride into the conference room to consult on a case, he knew he was in trouble. He expedited the transfer paperwork himself, even followed Strauss in the elevator on her way out one night to make her sign it. 

He grew fond of you quickly, of your insights, your compassion with victims’ families, your quick wit. You always bring homemade cookies or cupcakes for the entire team when it’s someone’s birthday, and you always have a different perspective to offer on cases. He especially loves when you are clearly thinking hard about something, so you cross your ankles - sitting or standing, he’s noticed - and tap your toes against the floor. 

Aaron’s ways of showing affection were not lost on you. He brought you coffee on more than one occasion, but he also brought coffee to the rest of the team. He straddles the invisible line between Caring Boss and More Than That so well. You’re not exactly sure what his actions mean.

Like today, for example. The team is in a small town in Kentucky, and you’re deep into a case - a spree, four murders in four days. You have been awake for about twenty straight hours, give or take, and the world around you has turned hazy. 

You are combing through a suspect’s letters with Spencer, your eyes growing heavier by the second. Your chin is propped up by your arm, and you finally close your eyes, just for one second of respite. Your arm gives out and your head whacks against the table, a wake-up call no amount of espresso could ever provide. 

“Shit, Y/N. Are you okay?” Spencer’s out of his chair in an instant as you lift your head, rubbing the already-formed welt on your forehead. 

The spot is tender and red and you’re dizzy, the wheels on your chair not helping matters. Why are there three Reids hovering over you? They meld back into one Reid after you blink a few times, and as you’re nodding to reassure Spencer you’re okay, you hear Hotch walk in. “I heard a thud. What happened?” 

The conference room in the police precinct is teeny and already cramped, so Spencer has to move out of the way for Hotch to get to you. 

“She smacked her head on the table,” Spencer explains hurriedly. “I’ll get you an ice pack,” he scurries off, likely to ask one of the local officers, leaving you alone with Hotch. 

You’re still reeling and a bit disoriented from the contact with the solid oak table. Hotch takes the rolling desk chair beside yours, previously occupied by Spencer, and is hunching to meet your eye line. “You should really go back to the hotel and sleep for a little bit,” he says.

“Nobody else is,” you protest just as Hotch squares up to you to examine the welt on your forehead. You see him visibly grimace, his lips pressing deep into his face.

His thumb is suddenly on your forehead, padding around the bruise. It’s tender, and you know it would hurt if he touched you even a centimeter to the left, but he’s hitting it at just the right spot. You can see the lines on his palm.

“Yeah, well, no one else just concussed themselves,” he points out. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s tired, too. His eyes are heavy, the bags under them puffier than usual. 

“If I’m concussed, then I really shouldn’t go to sleep,” you point out, and Hotch’s expression tightens. 

“What day is it today?” He asks, retracting his hand and pulling back into his own space. 

“Wednesday,” you reply, then your eyes dart to the clock on the wall. 12:17 AM. “Thursday,” you correct. 

Hotch releases a pressure-cooker sigh and narrows his eyes at you scrupulously. You lean forward in your chair in a challenge. “I’m fine,” you insist. 

“I just wish you’d take care of yourself so I wouldn’t have to.” 

This catches you off guard. Your brows furrow and you frown at Hotchner, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?” you ask, feeling offended. What the hell was that supposed to mean? “You don’t think I take care of myself?”

Hotch’s mouth is hanging open just slightly, and he’s shaking his head. “No, Y/N, that’s not what I-” 

“You and I both know you would tell me if my performance was inadequate,” you decide in that moment - maybe it’s the potential concussion, or maybe it’s the exhaustion - to rip into him. “I don’t need a babysitter, Aaron.” 

Hotchner shakes his head again. “I know you don’t need a babysitter,” he says calmly. Irritatingly calmly. “I just meant that there are many other things I’d rather be doing…” 

Your mouth goes dry. Obnoxiously, with the cadence of a confused basset hound, you say, “huh?” 

Aaron’s cheeks are pink now, and he swallows hard. “I’d better go check on Reid and that ice pack,” he murmurs, but before he can roll away, you grab the arm of his chair.  

“Aaron,” you breathe out, and suddenly he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the world, like there’s a spotlight shining down on you from the ceiling of a little police precinct in Middle of Nowhere, Kentucky. 

His brown eyes are so soft at this moment. His eyebrows have softened from their usual piercing, investigative furrow. He knees press into yours, and you want so badly to bridge that gap between his face and yours. His mouth is hanging open, only slightly, and you watch with bated breath as his tongue juts out - just barely - to moisten his lips. 

The door flies open at that moment, and Spencer’s shifting three different ice packs among his hands. “I’ve got gel, I’ve got water-based, and they also had one of those beaded eye masks that people put in the freezer for self-care at home,” he laughs at this, stopping at the head of the table when he realizes he very clearly interrupted something. “Should… should I go?” 

You’re rolling back from Hotch, crossing your ankles and shaking your head. “No, you’re fine, Spence,” you say hurriedly and squeakily, just as Hotch clears his throat and rises from his seat. He lingers in the door on his way out. As you’re taking the gel ice pack from Spencer and placing it gingerly against your forehead, your gaze meets Hotch’s. 

He’s boring into you with those beautiful molten chocolate eyes, and he purses his lips pensively for one fleeting moment, as if to say, to be continued. 

“What was all that about?” Spencer asks as he sits back down. You shake your head. 

“Nothing,” you feel concrete tension in your jaw that radiates all the way down to your toes. You grab the next pile of letters and open one. The fact that you have to pretend like nothing just happened, like you didn’t just share an absurd amount of tension with your boss? It feels like your entire body is on pins and needles. “Let’s just keep going.”

[prentissluvr]

cariño — luke alvez

pairing : luke alvez x gn!bau!reader ➖⟢ genre : hurt/comfort, fluff ➖⟢ cw : car crash, mentions of blood and injuries, concussion, pet names (honey, sweetheart, cariño, baby), swearing, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 3.6K ➖⟢ listen to : cariño by the marías summary : you get injured while chasing after an unsub, and luke is there to take care of you.

also i think i was subconsciously inspired by one of my fav luke fics concussed at the end lol so check that one out, too!!

adrenaline pumps through your veins the way it always does during a car chase. this one is entirely chaotic as you weave the large black suv through other innocent cars, trying to keep up with the unsub. luke is in the passenger's seat, feeding you updates and directions from garcia as you step on the gas.

“left up ahead!” luke instructs, and your hands grip the wheel tight as you yank it to the side last minute to avoid hitting traffic. the tires squeal, but you make the turn and find yourself on an open road, houses and office buildings quickly fading into trees. you can see the unsub’s car just as it rounds a corner in front of you, and you increase your speed without the danger of hitting a civilian’s car. for a moment, you’re glad because this makes your capture easier, then that exact thought spikes confusion and worry in your mind.

“why the hell’d he turn here?” you question through gritted teeth, “it would be harder for us to get to him if he kept on the busier roads.”

“shit,” luke curses in agreement, “garcia, what’s past the corner we’re about to round?”

there’s a moment of silence as you continue speeding down the road. “nothing!” comes penelope’s voice through luke’s phone.

“nothing?” he repeats to confirm.

“no, nothing, is there supposed to be something?” garcia asks, worry quickly seeping into her tone.

“we need to slow down,” luke dictates as you’re already easing up on the gas and preparing to step on the brakes. but the speed of the car makes almost no difference as you round the corner, eyes peeled and body tensed to react quickly to anything the unsub might throw your way. maybe he’s stopped the car in attempts to surprise you into breaking or swerving dangerously, likely waiting with a gun in hand to try and shoot you down.

what you don’t expect, what none of you could have expected at all, is the new car that comes barelling into the road, hidden by a driveway to the left, right after the curve.

luke shouts your name in warning, and with a glimpse of the dark grey vehicle in the corner of your eye, you slam back on the gas and swerve further left in hopes that the car catch the tail end of the suv and send the it spinning down the road, rather than t-bone you and send you off the side of the road.

you’re not quick enough, just about no one could be. the grey car was ready for you, and it hits the driver’s side with a sickening crunch before running you right off the road. the airbags inflate almost right on impact and the car lurches to a halt when it bends to the will of a tall, thick tree.

it happens beyond fast, all of it a blur of sharp pain and the mixed voices of luke’s exclaimations and penelope’s worried voice calling your names until there’s nothing at all.

—

when luke wakes, he can still hear penelope’s voice. it takes a long, groggy and painful moment for it to come into focus. he groans as he forces his eyes open.

“luke! luke, oh my god! are you there? can you hear me? luke, answer me, please,” her voice is completely panicked, and oddly far away. luke realizes his phone must have fallen to the ground in the crash. then he remembers there’s been a crash.

“garcia?” he croaks out, trying to sit up from where he’s awoken against the door to turn his pained neck, because the most important thing he remembers then is that you were driving.

“luke! thank god. oh my god. there’s an ambulance on the way. luke, are you okay? i can’t hear you well and where’s y/n? are they okay?” garcia is practically begging for good news as she rambles out questions to him.

“i’m fine,” he calls to her, lying, “concussion, probably. i’m checking on y/n right now.” he’s trying to sound calm for her sake, but he’s silently panicking because he hasn’t heard a sound from your side of the car. you probably took the brunt of the hit, too. he’s terrified of what he’ll see when he finally can get a decent look at you.

there’s blood dripping down your face, reflecting the sunlight seeping in through the broken car windows as it seeps past your closed eyelids. you’re knocked out cold, far colder than he was, and your head slumps against the deflated airbag on the steering wheel. you’re facing him, and he thinks that seeing you like this is his worst nightmare. but his head is starting to clear up, probably only momentarily, and though his whole body aches, he can tell that nothing’s broken. with ample effort, he reaches over to you, calling your name softly, then urgently as he presses his fingers to your pulse point. when he feels the weak throb of blood pumping through your veins, he heaves a sigh of relief.

“they’re alive,” he calls to garcia, “still knocked out,” he explains, the strain in his voice evident. “i need to focus on them, okay garcia? have you called emily?”

“i patched her in while you were still out, she’s on the way with jj and spence. do you promise you’re okay?” she’s still talking like she’s barely breathing.

“garcia, i need you to breathe while i try to wake them up, okay?” it’s taking all of luke’s control to stay calm for garcia as he struggles to be closer to you. he checks for breathing, then for any obvious injuries other than your head. then, he’s stroking the side of your face, so gentle as he calls out your name.

“okay, okay, i can do that,” comes garcia’s muffled voice, but luke’s already practically tuned her out. all he’s worried about is you, the way your face looks calm now, even covered in blood, and the way it’ll inevitably twist in pain when you wake. he keeps calling your name, but there’s no response. he’s too afraid to move you for fear of making any unseen injuries worse.

“garcia, how long for the ambulence?” he calls, panic beginning to seep into his voice.

“it’s three minutes out,” she responds, and if he weren’t so preoccupied with you, he’d be able to picture the fear in her face, the severe furrow of her eyebrows, maybe tears on her cheeks as she prays you’ll be okay. but all he sees is the way you’re stuck in your seat, trapped between the front of the car that hit you, its driver long gone by now, and the front dashboard that’s been pushed forward by the strength of the tree and collision.

the way he says your name is like the pleading of a desperate prayer. his shaky hand is still on the side of your face, the pad of his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“c’mon, honey. you gotta wake up.”

with that comes the first sign of life outside of your shallow breaths and weak heartbeat. your brows furrow slightly and a quiet groan escapes the back of your throat.

“hey, hey. that’s it, cariño, c’mon. can you hear me?” he begs. he gets another pained whimper and slight flutter of your eyelids, but your eyes still don’t open. “you’re okay, i’ve got you. you’re alright. wake up, y/n. come on, you got this.”

when your eyes finally flit open, everything’s blurry. you blink once, twice, as you try to focus on the voice that you think might be calling your name. it’s familiar, but sounds far away. then you groan and your face contorts in pain. everything hurts, bad. 

“don’t try to move, okay?” those are the first words you catch and can put the meaning together, “you’re alright, the ambulence will be here soon. cariño, can you hear me?”

you try to say yes, but all you can get out is a strangled, “hmm.” luke. you want to say his name as his face comes into focus and you register his gentle hand on your face. the soft brush of his thumb and the gentle sound of his voice are comforting, even as the pain grows with every waking moment.

“that’s good, you’re doing so good,” he reassures. he hates the way your cheek and forehead are shoved uncomfortably against the steering wheel, so as carefully as he can, he maneuvers his other hand to cup your head so you can rest against him instead of the hard, unorgiving surface of the wheel. your face pinches in pain when he does so, but you relax a little once your cheek settles against the soft skin of his palm.

“there you go, that’s a little better, huh? can you see me?”

this time your hum is a little more intelligible as a clear, “mhmm.” you try to keep your eyes and senses focused on luke and his pretty, worried face, but it’s difficult when the pain is so ever present, digging into your ribs and hips and chest and legs and god, your head is pounding, spinning, stabbing, throbbing in pain. luke wants to cry himself when he feels your tears mix with your blood on his hands.

“shhh, you’re gonna be okay. i know it hurts, but the ambulance is almost here, baby,” his words are comforting, and you don’t want him to stop, but it only gets worse.

“luke,” you groan, unable to say much else to express how much pain you’re in and how much you need him to keep saying sweet things and calling you pretty names.

“yeah, i know, i know. ‘m right here, i got you. we’re gonna get you fixed up so soon. just stay with me, okay? ambulance’s almost here.”

“okay,” you agree breathily, but your eyes want to close and try to shut the pain out.

“no, no, stay awake, honey. i need you to stay awake, okay?” he repeats. “you hear that? that’s the ambulance, it’s almost here,” he assures you. sure enough, if you focus, you can hear the sirens as they get closer.

“okay. ‘m awake,” you mumble, pinching your eyebrows together in concentration and squeezing your eyes shut for just a moment before focusing your eyes back on luke’s concerned face.

“that’s good, there you go. don’t worry about anything else, i got you. you stay awake, and i’ll take care of the rest, alright?” his gaze leaves you for just a moment as the ambulance pulls up and the emts run out of the vehicle to help.

“yeah,” you respond, and he can feel your jaw clenching against his palm every time you hold back a little cry of pain. he hates it because it’s often, because even now, you’re acting strong for the sake of someone else.

then there’s a paramedic opening the door to the passengers side, requesting for him to get out and to the ambulance.

“not until you get them out,” luke protests, not even bothering to look away from you, “i’m staying with them.”

“sir, i’m sorry, but we need you to get out so we can reach them. that door isn’t going to open until we can move the other car, and we need to stabilize your friend as soon as possible,” the medic explains. luke holds back a curse and clenches his jaw in anger because he knows he needs to leave you, but would rather do anything but that.

“cariño, i have to get out so the medics can help you, but i’ll be back with you the second i can, okay?” he explains to you gently, already slipping his hands away from your head with all the care in the world.

you whine in protest, and though what he’s saying makes sense, you don’t want him to be away from you for even a moment.

“i know. i’m so sorry, but i’ll be right back, okay honey?” his heart is practically breaking as he pulls away from you and stumbles out of the car with the help of a medic. within seconds, another medic has crawled into the car, speaking comfortingly as she assesses the situation up close. and while you appreciate her gentleness, it’s not nearly as comforting as having luke. it’s a task, but the other medic gets luke to sit down on the side of the road a few feet away before climbing into the car from the back seat to help stabilize your neck and get you sitting upright in your seat.

luke wants to throw something or cry, or maybe both, when he hears your pained sounds coming from the car. more than anything, he wants to be near you to hold your hand, but he knows there’s not enough room for him and the medics to do their jobs.

when there’s nothing left for them to do until they can move you, they allow luke to climb back into the car and hold your hand from the back seat after checking him for severe injuries.

“hey, there. i’m back, sweetheart, just like i promised,” he says as he reaches over the console to curl his fingers around yours.

“mhmm,” you hum in relief, unable to really speak with the brace around your neck.

only moments later, more emergency vehicles arrive, including a black suv that luke knows to contain emily, jj, and spencer.

“we’ll be able to get you out so soon, now. and emily, jj, and spence are here to help, too,” luke tells you, hoping to bring you a bit of good news. in your current state, he doesn’t expect you to answer aloud, but he smiles a bit when you squeeze his hand.

—

at the hospital, hours later, luke sits in your dark room, holding your hand and resting his head against your forearm. it was practically hell to him, being made to rest in a hospital bed himself for an hour or two before they let him sit in your room instead. his concussion is mild, much more so than yours. you’re sleeping soundly, a little frown on your face that luke both wishes would go away and can’t help but find it oddly adorable. matt reported to him that you woke up once before, dazed and confused from your injury before falling back asleep.

the darkness of your room helps him, but his head still pounds dully as he wishes you’d wake up so he can say something to you, so he can hear your voice and maybe feel just a little bit less worried about you.

with his head down, he doesn’t see your eyes drift slowly open, but he feels the twitch of your fingers inside his own hand. immediately, he raises his head to check on you, and his gaze softens infinitely when he sees you’re awake.

“hey,” he whispers, “how are you feeling?” 

you take in a raspy breath before speaking, “um… i’m okay, i think. my head hurts,” you pout. “what… what happened?” the nurses had warned that you might suffer from some temporary retrograde amnesia.

“we were in a car crash,” honey, he wants to add.

you inhale sharply, “oh. are you okay?” you sound so worried and sweet that luke wants to soothe you with a kiss to your cheeks, your forehead, anywhere you’d let him. he settles for squeezing your hand comfortingly.

“i’m very okay,” he reassures, happily glossing over the fact that his head hurts, too. “that’s why i’m here, to take care of you, because you have a bad concussion.”

“oh,” you repeat, and from the way you’re talking and the tone of your voice, luke concludes that you’re still clearly affected by the concussion, “is everyone else okay? we’re on a case, right?”

“yeah, we’re on a case,” he has to hold back from the pet names again, “and everyone’s okay, just a little worried about you.”

your brow furrows at that, and he thinks your eyes grow a little shiny from tears. “don’t wan’ anybody to worry about me,” you fuss.

“oh, sweetheart,” it slips out so easy and natural that he can’t hold it back, “we just want to be sure that you’re okay,” he explains, so soft and sweet, “but since you’ll be just fine, we won’t worry too much, okay?”

“okay,” you sigh. the pout stays stuck to your lips, but you don’t protest anymore and he thinks tears are avoidable, now.

“i’m gonna grab a doctor to check on you,” luke tells you as he begins to stand and let his hand slip away from yours. your hand tightens around his and the tears spring right back into your eyes.

“don’t go,” you whine all sweet and simple.

“i promise i’ll be right back, but i need to get a doctor to make sure everything’s alright, okay?”

you shake your head, then squeeze your eyes shut in pain. that action sends a few tears out and rolling down the sides of your face. when your eyes open, a few more drops spill out as your breathing grows a little heavy and panicked.

luke settles right back down at your side and squeezes your hand with renewed urgency, “okay, okay. i got it, i’m here.” he brings his other hand to the side of your face, ever so gentle to avoid hurting you as he wipes at your tears, “i’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.” 

he sighs, but his face softens when you relax into his touch. “will you tell me when it’s okay for me to get a doctor? i promise it’ll only take a second, and it’ll help me not to worry about you,” he adds.

this makes your expression turn conflicted. it’s plain to him that you’re mulling over the options carefully in that pretty little head of yours.

after long consideration, you relent, “okay. but you can’t be gone long, please.”

“i won’t, i promise. i’ll be right back, okay?”

“okay,” you agree, but your voice is so sad that luke would rather do anything than leave your side. your fingers chase after his as he gets up, even when your muscles are tired, pained, and weak.

luke flags down a nurse, who gets a doctor to show up within a few minutes. she comes and confirms that your status is the same as before, all you need is rest and to be extra careful goin forward. you sigh in relief when she says that you should be discharged tomorrow or the day after, and you’re cleared to fly soon after that as long as you’re continually resting. your memory from around the time before the crash might remain spotty, but should clear up at least a little with time and proper care.

“luke,” you mumble once the doctor’s gone.

“yeah? can i get you something? water?” he asks, all caring and concerned.

“no. well, water would be nice in a minute, but luke,” you implore, “i jus’ really like you, and i wish that you’d kiss me. i’m pretty sure i’ve wished that for a while. but i definitely wish it now.”

those words nearly knock the breath out of his lungs, but he has to recompose himself quickly to deal with the fact that you’re only saying so because you’re severely concussed.

“i also wish you were my boyfriend,” you continue.

“i really like you, too,” he says, beginning gentle and truthful to ease into the fact that he can’t kiss you right now.

“so you’ll kiss me?” you slur hopefully. he sighs because he knows his answer probably won’t come across well in your current state.

“i will if that’s what you still want when your head clears up a little more, okay?” he concedes. he means it, too. he really would like to kiss you.

“but not now?” you sound so disappointed that luke is having trouble holding back. your eyes are shiny again and he wants to kiss the tears away.

“i’m sorry, but not yet.” the pronounced pout on your lips does not help his case.

“do you not want to?” you ask helplessly, and there’s tears slipping down your face again.

“oh, hey, don’t cry. i do, i promise i do, but i can’t right now,” he explains without making any headway in calming you down. you don’t seem to believe him.

he stands to lean over you and lay both of his hands against your face to wipe the tears gently awake. from the pinch of your brows and tightness of your lips, he thinks you’re probably crying from the pain, too. he shushes you softly as he presses a whisper of a kiss to your forehead when he can’t hold back from doing so anymore.

“it’s okay. don’t cry,” he mumbles into the bandage wrapped around your head. for good measure, he kisses the skin of your forehead again, since the first one seemed to calm you down significantly. it appears that the contact of his lips to your skin, regardless of whether it was on your own lips or not, was enough to sedate and please you, because the tears have stopped and there’s a little smile on your face when he looks.

“can you hug me, too?” you ask sweetly.

“of course i can,” he confirms as he wraps his arms around you, as careful and soft as possible. 

he holds you until your hand drops from his shoulder and you say plainly, “i’m tired.” he moves away slightly, brushing his thumb sweetly under your eye before he settles back down on the chair.

“alright. why don’t you go to sleep, then? i’ll be here when you wake up, cariño.”

your smile turns a little dopey at that word. “cariño,” you slur out. “i hope you’ll kiss me then, cariño.” with that, you send his heart into a flutter as your eyes drift closed and your breathing evens out.

he whispers, “i will, cariño, i will.”

[holly-the-trash-writer]

Guilt

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Y/n lies unconscious in a hospital bed while Spencer drowns in guilt. You had felt that Spencer was cheating on you with Maeve and were going to stay with someone else before you got shot. Finding this out causes Spencer to snap and lash out at one of his closest friends.

Part 2

Word Count: 2,866

A/N: This has been a WIP for years! It was apart of a series with my own OC but I decided to change it to a Reader fic. The amount of WIPs I have is ridiculous!!!!!

Spencer sat at Y/n's hospital bed in silence. Tears were continuously streaming down his face, his breaths were shaky and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your unmoving face. 

There was a tube coming out of your mouth to help your breathing. So many different wires were coming out of your body and attached to multiple beeping machines. 

He was holding your right hand in both of his, your skin wasn’t freezing cold but it was colder than he prefers it to be. 

You had only came out of surgery half an hour ago but they won’t know if it was successful until you wake up. Which could be between the next few seconds and never.  

Never was something Spencer was trying his hardest not to think about. 

There was so much he needed to tell you. So many things he had to say. 

The last time you were together you had fought. You told him that he’s been speaking to Maeve too much and that he's been ignoring you. Spending more time with this woman. 

Spencer had told you that you were being ridiculous and then you had to go on a case and Spencer never got the chance to talk anymore about it. 

You had been furious at him and now Spencer was angry at himself as well. 

He had called you ridiculous for coming to him about your feelings. This resulted in you refusing to be his partner in the field. Which led to you going with Morgan. Which ended in you getting shot. 

This is when Spencer’s brain began connecting things that didn’t match up. 

If he had listened to you he could’ve gotten you out of harm’s way. 

Not speaking to Maeve meant you wouldn’t have fought and you never would’ve been shot. 

He was supposed to protect you. 

It should be him lying there. Not his sweet girl. 

There was a knock on the door and Spencer barely reacted as Garcia and Emily came in. 

“Hey, how is she doin’?” Emily asked softly. 

Spencer turned his head a little towards them, “She... uh.” His voice cracked and he cleared it before trying again, “They said everything went well but we won’t know the damage until she wakes up.” 

Garcia's eyes watered as she stared at your body. “When will she wake up?” 

Spencer's eyes filled with tears, a sad smile forming as he squeezed your hand, “When she’s ready.” 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out to see that it was Maeve. 

Again.  

Along with the twenty missed calls from Maeve.  

He rubbed his eyes before pressing answer, “Spencer Reid.” 

“Oh my God. Spencer, I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Are you alright?” 

This statement didn’t sit well in his stomach.  

If you miss an appointment with your doctor, they don’t leave twenty missed calls on your phone.  

They wait for you to reschedule. 

He glanced at the other two women who were trying their best not to listen in. Although Garcia was looking particularly peeved about something.  

Then he glanced down at you and any words he was going to say to Maeve turned to ash in his mouth. He felt sick.  

Now he understood what you meant. 

“Now, isn’t a good time. I’ll call you next week.” He didn’t wait for a response before he ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket. 

Garcia shifted uncomfortably, “Was... was that her?” 

“Who?” Spencer’s brain wasn’t even functioning at 20%. He couldn’t think things through clearly. 

“Doctor Maeve.” Garcia mocked. 

Spencer frowned, “Yes. Why?” 

Emily gave Penelope a pointed look. 

A look that did not go unnoticed by Spencer, “What? What is it?” 

Emily put her hands up in a calming gesture, as if trying to approach a cornered animal. “Spencer. You must understand, we don’t mean to pry but Y/n spoke to Morgan and he didn’t know what to do so he told Garcia, who told me.” 

Spencer rubbed his eyes for the fourth time in ten minutes, he did not have the energy for this, “Told you what? What are you talking about?” Spencer was getting agitated now. Why can’t they just tell him? He hated not getting to the point. 

“Well, Y/n came to Morgan two weeks ago and was quite upset.” 

Spencer frowned as he looked at you again. Two weeks ago? You didn’t seem upset two weeks ago. 

“She had some concerns about this doctor that you’ve been speaking to.” Emily explained. 

Garcia huffed, “She told Derek that she had suspicions that you were cheating on her.” She spoke with daggers in her eyes. 

Spencer froze.  

What?!  

He stiffened in his seat as he stared at his unconscious fiancé in shock.  

You thought he was cheating on you?  

You might never wake up again and your last thoughts of him would be the fight and thoughts of his, supposed, adultery.  

How?! How could you think that he could even look at anyone that wasn’t you? 

“I. Would. Never.” He punctuated every damn word so they got his point, trying to blink away the fresh batch of tears that filled his eyes. 

“She planned to stay with Morgan and Savannah for a couple of days-" Garcia told him. 

Spencer tore his eyes away from the bed to gawk at Garcia, “She what?” 

Emily placed her hand on Garcia’s arm and spoke next, “Yesterday, Derek had... overheard one of your conversations with the doctor and he spoke to Y/n about it. So, she decided she would go and stay with him for a few days to sort out her head before coming to you about it.” 

Spencer was furious. Not only did you think he was cheating on you, half of the team now suspected him of it too and no one even had the decency to ask him. And what was this phone call that was so damning that Derek had to run and tell his fiancé? Why didn’t Derek just ask him instead of almost ruining his relationship without him even knowing about it! 

Spencer was shaking with rage. He stood abruptly from his chair and turned to the girls, pointing to Y/n’s bed he ordered out, “Stay with her.” before he stormed outside to head to the waiting room. 

He saw red. He couldn’t think of anything except for the anger he felt. 

Quickly turning the corner he saw the rest of the team sitting and talking as if nothing was wrong. 

J.J noticed him first and stood up, Hotch, Rossi and Morgan following suit. 

“Spence, any news?” she asked gently. 

Spencer didn’t even hear her; never slowed his pace either. As soon as Morgan was within arm’s reach he clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white and swung as hard as he could.  

His fist made connection with Morgan’s cheek and from the shock of Spencer’s actions it knocked Morgan off kilter. Morgan stumbled and placed his hand to his cheek. 

The punch clearly did more harm to Spencer than Morgan, but he didn’t care. The pain in his hand was welcomed. It cut through the hurt that was clutched around his heart. 

The others cried out in shock as they tried to digest what just happened. 

“What the hell, kid?!” Morgan yelled at him. 

“’What the hell’ is right!” Spencer growled back as he stepped up to the other man and pushed his shoulders, “Sneaking behind my back? Telling my fiancé that I had some secret affair because of some phone call you didn’t hear the entirety of!” 

Spencer was seething, the rest of the team gaping at him never having seen him so furious before, “You could’ve just asked! But no, the whole team had to get involved. And now I hear she was planning on living with you for a few days?!” Spencer clenched his possibly broken fist again. “She’s in a coma and may never wake up again and her last thoughts of me will be the thought that I was getting with someone else.” 

Spencer inhaled sharply as his rage at Morgan turned to rage at himself. 

“Spencer!” J.J shouted, “Stop!” 

His sharp inhales quickly turned to hyperventilation, his brain was in overdrive, a million thoughts and memories were spinning around his head and he just wanted it to stop. 

So he stopped it the only way he knew how.  

Instead of hitting Morgan, Spencer turned at the last second and hit the wall. 

He fell to his knees and cried as he hit the wall again and again and again and again. 

Blood smeared across the white wall as he broke the skin on the knuckles. The physical pain overrode his senses and he chased the feeling. 

That was until Hotch grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him away from the wall causing Spencer to lose his balance and fall back into Hotch's arms which quickly locked around him. 

“Stop! Get off of me! Hotch, let go!” Spencer squirmed as he tried to fight against his boss. His back was pressed tightly against Hotch’s chest, his legs bent in front of him and he kept slapping at Hotch’s arms to let go. 

Hotch just shushed him and held him tighter. Completely understanding his anger. He’s been there and the best thing for Spencer is to calm down enough so he can go back and sit with Y/n instead of giving in to his anger and doing something else that he will regret. 

Once Spencer figured out that he wasn’t going anywhere the fight drained out of him and he stopped slapping at the arms circled around him.  

While Spencer was hunched over Hotch gave the rest of the team a nod to clear the area and give the two some space. 

Hotch pulled one Spencer’s shoulders to shift his position so that Spencer curled into his chest. 

Once Hotch placed a comforting hand over Spencer’s head a sob broke past his lips and the entire dam broke. Spencer cried his heart out.  

He could barely breathe, inhaling only made him choke on his sobs and made him feel worse. 

“What if I never get to speak to her again?” he whispered between sobs. “Never get to tell her that she’s the only one for me.” 

“Spencer you need to breathe.” Hotch told him gently, “You need to calm down. Breathe with me.” 

Spencer felt Hotch’s chest rising and falling against him. He closed his eyes and tried to follow his boss’ actions. 

After a moment, Spencer was finally able to take a deep breath. The oxygen flooded his brain and the fog cleared. His entire body shivered before he came to his senses. 

Blinking hard he realised he was curled into Hotch’s chest, cocooned in his arms.  

He shouldn’t be here.  

He was sitting on the hospital floor instead of in with Y/n. He slowly sat up and Hotch let his arms fall from around him. 

“You alright?” 

Spencer wiped his left hand over his face, “Fine. Fine. Yeah. I need to uh, I need to go to Y/n.” 

He put his right hand behind him to support his weight, but an agonising pain shot through his hand and he fell onto his elbow with a grunt. 

“Here, let me see.” Hotch knelt over him and held out his hand. 

Spencer shook his head and used his other hand to support his weight as he got off the floor, dusting himself off as best he could, “I’m fine.” He held his right arm close to him as he stood up straight.  

He looked around and noticed that J.J, Rossi and Morgan are nowhere to be seen… which is probably for the best. 

The shame of what he’s done washed over him like a bucket of ice water. He just punched his best friend in front of his team then proceeded to have a break down in his boss’ arms. 

“Spencer.” Hotch called out. “You’re not fine, let me see your hand.” 

Spencer shook his head and walked out of the waiting room without saying anything. 

Stopping just outside Y/n’s room he looked in the window, you hadn’t moved a muscle.  

Emily was sat by your bedside holding your hand. 

The pain of the possibility of losing her was too much for him. His only relief was the slow rise and fall of your chest.  

His eyes were already puffy and sore, and he felt dehydrated. He sighed as he raised his left hand to wipe the tears away, cursing himself for his behaviour. 

“Spencer.” Hotch stood at his side, “You need to get your hand looked at, and I’m sure the nurse wouldn’t mind doing it by Y/n’s bedside.” He knew Spencer probably doesn’t want his hand looked at for at least three reasons; he doesn’t want to leave Y/n’s side for much longer, he feels embarrassed or shameful or he feels the need to punish himself. 

He agreed as long as he can stay beside Y/n, “Okay.” He opened the door and the bleeps of the machine’s filled his ears.  

That was your heartbeat.  

He lowered himself into the chair at your right side and raised his left hand to hold hers. His right hand was tucked into his chest. The throbbing was excruciating but he welcomed it. 

He pointedly avoided Emily’s worried expression before she smiled at him and left the room without word. 

A nurse came bustling into the room a few moments later with a tray of equipment, clearly fetched by Hotch. She stood next to him and Spencer raised his hand to let her do what she needed to do. Hissing as she cleaned the cuts on his knuckles. 

The nurse didn’t mind his silence and talked calmly to him as she worked, “You did quite the number on your hand.” She wiped away the blood and inspected his fingers, “You’ve definitely broken a few knuckles, I’m going to wrap your fingers in a splint and then bandage you up, okay?” 

Spencer nodded, “Okay.” He said quietly. 

She taped his middle and ring finger together and then bandaged his entire hand down to his wrist. “Now, keep this on for the next two weeks and then come back in so we can give you an x-ray and review the damage.” 

Spencer nodded, “Thank you.” 

The nurse left and Spencer was alone with Y/n once more. He stared at his right hand that was now resting on the bed.  

How could he do this? Throw a tantrum while the love of his life lies in bed fighting for her life. 

He leaned forward to rest his arms on the bed. 

“Hi.” His voice shook, and he cleared his throat. He hasn’t been this nervous to talk to you since you first met. “You always told me that I needed to talk more, but I- I have no words for what I’ve done. I’ve done something terrible. Actually, I’ve done a few terrible things.” The tears formed once more, and his head pounded from the pressure. “I may never get the chance to say this to you but I am so, so, sorry. I made you feel that you weren’t special to me anymore, that I don’t love you which is the furthest thing from the truth.” 

Spencer played with a strand of your hair that was laying on your shoulder. 

“How could I ever be with someone else? No one could ever, ever take your place in my heart.” 

He gently lifted your hand in both of his, his head felt heavy, so he bent over and placed his forehead on the back of her hand. “I love you more than anything in this world. When you wake up I’m going to spend every second of the rest of my life making it up to you. And I know you wouldn’t want to miss that. So, please wake up. Please.” 

He had been talking when it happened so he never heard it. 

You weren’t breathing in the same rhythm as before. 

When he finally noticed, he frowned as he looked you over. He slowly got to his feet as he scanned the machines. Right before his eyes some of the numbers began to climb as others started to fall. 

Spencer scrambled past the chair and ripped open the door to your room, “Doctor! I need a doctor here now!” He yelled out before running back to your side, “Y/n, sweetheart if you can hear me; don’t give up. Please.” 

Two doctors and a nurse sprinted into the room. 

“Sir, sir!” The nurse grabbed Spencer’s shoulder, “We need you to leave.” 

Spencer shook his head frantically, trying to keep up with everything that the doctors were saying to each other, “I can’t.” he whispered to himself. 

“Sir! Please!” The nurse pushed at Spencer’s shoulders until he was outside the room and the door was shut in his face. 

The rest of the team had heard the commotion and had run to the room as well. 

Rossi placed his hand on Spencer’s shoulder as the entire team watched the doctors place paddles on your chest and shock you. 

Again. 

And again. 

And again. 

[girlkisser13]

being married to spencer reid would include

• spencer is very gentle with you, not because he thinks you’re fragile, but because he loves you so much and couldn’t bear to hurt you in any way.

• the two of you have a designated "no serial killer talk" time.

• your home is filled with shelves upon shelves of books, with new ones constantly being added. spencer likes to surprise you with rare editions or books he thinks you’d love.

• spencer isn’t the most outwardly expressive, but he shows his love through small, thoughtful gestures. he leaves notes in your favorite books and brew your coffee exactly how you like it before you wake up.

• due to his work, spencer can be a bit overprotective. he’d worry about your safety but would do his best not to let it interfere with your happiness.

• spencer would cherish the quiet moments you spend together, whether it’s reading side by side, watching classic films, or simply enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence.

• the two of you have annual matching halloween costumes that somehow get exponentially better each year.

• though he’s often serious, spencer has a sharp wit and a subtle sense of humor that would come out more often around you, making you laugh when you least expect it.

• spencer is incredibly caring and would always make sure you feel loved and appreciated. he’d be attuned to your emotions and would do his best to make you feel better when you’re down.

• he overcame his hatred for driving for you but only because you got drunk with jj, emily, and penelope and needed a ride home.

• date nights with spencer range from museum visits and bookshop crawls to stargazing or attending a lecture on a topic you’re both curious about. he’d love to create unique experiences that align with both your interests.

• SOO many coffee dates.

• though he might not be overly demonstrative in public, in private, spencer is incredibly affectionate. he’d hold your hand while reading, leave gentle kisses on your forehead, and give you reassuring hugs after a long day.

• he calls you before each flight to let you know where he’s headed for a case or to tell you when he’s finally coming home. although he usually doesn’t have time to call when he lands because he has to hit the ground running with the case, he always makes sure to send you a text to let you know they landed safely.

• he bought you a stuffed animal to cuddle with when he’s gone. he was nervous about giving it to you and had an entire speech prepared, explaining how they could be beneficial in many cases.

• spencer likes to leave sweet, thoughtful notes for you around the house, often filled with his favorite quotes, little reminders of his love, or even just a simple "have a great day" message in the morning.

• your relationship is built on a mutual love of learning. whether it’s sharing articles, watching documentaries, or attending seminars, you’d constantly be expanding your horizons together.

• spencer LOVES cuddling with you. he finds a lot comfort in your presence. he’d often pull you close while reading or watching tv, enjoying the simple pleasure of being close to you.

• in some ways, being in love with you scares him because he’s never felt this way before. but in other ways, it excites him because he now has someone to share himself with, judgment-free, and a partner to experience life’s highs and lows with.

• this man knows you better than any subject he’s ever studied. <33

[de4dlyniightshade]

I need sweetheart Spencer headcannons. I gotta hear about this guys sweet little habits and his love language frfr

i can yap abt domestic shit with spencer for YEARS

really listens to you like if you mention even briefly a brand you like he buys you it, flowers you like, always a vase of them in his or your place for you.

if you mention you don't like the smell of his laundry detergent or anything like that she changes it immediately for you.

learns how to make your favourite coffee, no matter how elaborate, will even buy the expensive tools to make it for you every morning.

thrifts trinkets and silly things for you that he thinks you'd like, just cute little ornaments and cups, mugs, bottles, anything he sees that makes him think of you.

tucks you in at night, every night, even if you're still awake he makes sure to tuck the duvet around your neck to keep you cosy.

on the same lines, always has a blanket within reach for when you fall asleep on the couch, carefully laying it on you and pressing a kiss to your head.

plays your favourite music in the morning while he makes your coffee so you wake up to something that you enjoy.

hand holder always, his hand is never out of your when you're going places, one of his worst fears being you getting separated from him in a crowd or worse, his job making him slightly paranoid about you getting kidnapped.

loves dancing with you to old music.

such a cliche gentleman, always opening doors for you and will literally race you to your side of the car to open the door for you and will tell you to wait so he can get out and open it for you too. also always pulls your chair out for you and takes your jacket.

loves to talk about you but always feels shy around the team because he knows how they'll tease him, all but penelope who asks about you daily and lets spencer ramble about everything you told him since the second he saw you.

you once got a call from penelope which worried you since she gave you her number in case something happened to spencer so you answered really worried but it was just for her to tell you that spencer finally admitted that he wanted to marry you.

always has to have skin on skin contact while he sleeps, even if it's just his leg touching you, he just needs to know you're there.

very proudly introduced you to his mother, beaming with pride because he knew she'd love you because he knew you loved him and that's all diana ever wanted for him.

humming. always. he's always humming some tune while he does anything, especially cooking or making coffee in the morning.

almost cries when jj brings her kids over and he looks over to see you with henry on your hip, humming a tune you'd heard him hum while bouncing him to the tune.