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hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds · 9 months ago

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can i request a hotch x two-years-old-daughter!reader? i could totally see her begging her dad to let her wear her pink, poofy princess dress when hotch has to take her to work with him. but while hotch is busy, she manages to wander off. she then meets spencer (i imagine this takes place when spencer’s just starting with the bau) & immediately clings to him lol. she’s just very giggly, bubbly, cuddly, & LOVES to play with his hair. & poor spencer is just so confused but is endeared by her nevertheless. & then hotch finally finds her & is relieved. <3

sorry it’s so long! love your works!

Aaron Hotchner X Young Daughter reader

Request: can i request a hotch x two-years-old-daughter!reader? i could totally see her begging her dad to let her wear her pink, poofy princess dress when hotch has to take her to work with him. but while hotch is busy, she manages to wander off. she then meets spencer (i imagine this takes place when spencer’s just starting with the bau) & immediately clings to him lol. she’s just very giggly, bubbly, cuddly, & LOVES to play with his hair. & poor spencer is just so confused but is endeared by her nevertheless. & then hotch finally finds her & is relieved. <3

I do love young Hotch daughter who is completely opposite to her dad. Around season 1, Hailey is alive and just had Jack.

Third person pov...

Hailey smiles as her Husband runs around after their hyperactive 2 year old, little Y/N Hotchner was a ball of sunshine and energy.

The 2 year old was excited she had a baby brother and loved to play with him, though she loved playing with her Daddy even more.

Currently the little ball of energy was running around the house away from her Dad who was attempting to put her in her clothes, she was going to work with him for the day.

The little girl was only half dressed as she ran before the man could put her trousers on, giggling she shouts "no daddy!" As the man almost grabs her, a smile on his face.

Still chasing the girl, surprised at how quick she was for a tot, though he wasn't running more like in slow motion, wanting the chase to last a little longer, it wasn't every day he got to do this with his daughter (besides he had time before work started)

From the living room, Hailey watches her Husband and daughter with a smile on her face as she held her sleeping baby, Jack was sound asleep as if nothing was happening.

As they make another loop around the house Aaron stops and hops into the doorway of the living room, back pressed against the wall, Hailey watches her husband as he made a shush motion.

"Daddy?" Calls Y/N as the tot ran past the room, a confused look on her face and she looked for her dad. Poking her head around the door she looked at her Mum. "Where daddy?" She asks a pout on her lips.

Hailey fails to hide her smile as her daughter was grabbed and thrown upside down, giggling madly Y/N yelled to be let down. "Daddy! Let go" giggling even more when her tummy was tickled.

"Never, now its time for naughty girls to be dressed" he tells his daughter smiling wickedly as he continues to tickle his daughter, the H/C girl only wiggled in his grasp.

"No no daddy, wanna wear princess dress" yells the tot, Aaron stops his attack and looks at his wife. Hailey only shrugs her shoudlers.

Ever since her birthday Y/N loved one gift in particular, it was a beautiful poofy princess dress her parents got specially made for her.

She loved wearing it every time they went out and was always careful to keep it clean. Hotch sighs of course she would want to wear it to his work.

Looking down at the sad puppy look hisbwas getting he gave in. Hanging his head he stood up Y/N in his arms.

"Okay, Princess dress it is" he declared, dramatically, while bouncing the little girl in his arms before walking upstairs with a happy Y/N "yayy" cheers the young girl.

Finally ready to go Hotch grabbed his brief case, his lunch and Y/N lunch. As he headed for the door he called for Y/N the little girl eagerly bouncing over to him as he helped her put on her light up shoes.

"Ready princess" he asks her, Y/N gives him a huge gumming smile. "Yes Sir Daddy!" She saluted him before hugging her Mum and baby brother before leaving. "Good luck" Hailey whispers as she kisses Aaron.

When they arrived at the FBI headquarters Hotch pulls his daughter aside. "Now N/N, I know your excited, but I need you to stay close to me today okay? The office is busy and I don't want you to get lost" he explains to the girl.

Y/N smiles and hugs his neck giggling. "Yes Daddy! I be good" she smiles, Hotch pats her head a smile on his lips. "Thank you N/N" the two Hotchners then walk into the busy building.

And what a pair they made, Hotch in his usual suit and red tie combo, his stoic expresson on his face. Y/N in her pink poffy dress with light up shoes waving and smiling at all the agents she sees.

Once they get to the bullpen, Y/N is introduced to the team who are all excited to meet the young girl. Soon Hotch is busy in his office mountains of paperwork to go through.

On the floor lays Y/N, the young girl had grown bored it staying in the office. She had drawn lots of pictures, played with her toys. Now she wanted to explore.

Getting up from the floor she walks over to the door and opens it quietly, giggling silently she squeezes through the gap and is now free from the room.

Giggling she runs around the bullpen looking at all the desk and the members of her daddy's team, one person stand out to her, that's person being Spencer Reid who had jsut recently joined the BAU.

Walking up to thr agent she grabs onto his pant leg and shakes his gaining the surprised Dr's attention, looking doen and the girl dressed in pink spencer gives her an awkward smile.

"Hi..?" He says Y/N grins up at him. "Hi! I'm Y/N" she tells him proudly. Spencer is taken aback how smiley Hotches daughter is.

"I'm Spencer, nice to meet you Y/N" he says, before Y/N holds her arms up to him, Spencer was confused before realising she wanted to be picked up.

Nervously looking over to his bosses office he picks the girl up and sets her down on his lap, Y/Ns smiles brightens as she was held by the young man.

The brown haired man was surprised again when the ball on energy on his lap twisted around so she could koala hug him, pressing tightly to him Spencer hugged her back.

" your nice" came a muffled voice pressed to his chest, Spencer let out a surprised laugh at that making Y/N erupted into giggles all over again.

After hugging spencer the H/C tot began moving around as he tried to work, afgwr wriggling a bit she finally settled behind him, half sitting on top of his chair and half holding onto his back.

Y/N happily played with the agents hair as Spencer worked, he was slowly getting used to the girl spending time with him.

As this happened a very worried Dad was panicking in his office trying to find his daughter, after going through everything in his office Hotch threw open his door and stepped down the ramp into the bullpen.

Morgan stood from his desk as he saw the worried expression on the man's face. "Woah woah, what's happened Hotch?" He asks the worried man.

Shoulders shaking Aaron explained he couldn't find his daughter anywhere, instead of helping Derek just laughed and pointed.

Following his arm Hotch breathed a sigh off relief as he saw where Y/N had got to, smiling he watched his daughter laugh and play with the young doctors hair.

He was glad she was okay and made a new friend. Quickly taking a few pictures he sends them to Haily who messaged back just a quick. "Some one made a new friend" chuckling he responded. "I think they both made a new friend"

Putting his phone away he went back to his office, happy to leave his daughter in his agents capable hands.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot sorry for the wait! Sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Requests are open!

Word Count : 1375

#criminal minds #fanfic #behavioural analysis unit #x child reader #fluff and comfort #oneshot #x daughter!reader #father daughter fluff #aaron hotchner x child! reader #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds season 1 #hailey hotchner #jack hotchner #fluffy #spencer reid x child!reader #spencer reid

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cuddleprofiler · 1 month ago

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BONA FIDE - When you send Spencer all the letters you wrote throughout your relationship.

Word Count: 4.2k approx

Genre: fluff, somewhat angst I guess

Warnings: Burning, that's it

A/N: Positive Criticism is welcomed. Flashbacks are in italics and letters are in bold and italics.

“What is it?” Spencer spoke to himself quietly in the middle of the night. The team had been on a case in New York City. Somehow, his amazing girlfriend had an inkling days ago that he might not be present on his birthday, so she packed a gift for him to open at midnight in whichever city he would be at the time. Now, sitting cross-legged on the bed in his mismatched socks—something you always teased him about—he carefully unwrapped the present you had snuck into his go-bag.

Moments ago, you had been on the phone with him, your honeyed voice urging him to open the gift and not to poke fun at her. You wished him a Happy Birthday, but confusion lingered in his mind. Why would he make fun of you? What could you possibly have gifted him that warranted that?

“Letters?” he puzzled, seeing the pack of letters tied together with a red ribbon. There was nothing written on the letters except dates — going back a few years. Alongside the letters was a box of assorted cookies, all his favourites.

He chuckled to himself, recalling how you would look at him with exasperation every time he indulged in cookies as soon as he returned home after a case. Your concern for his sweet tooth had even led you to create a PowerPoint presentation, hilariously outlining why moderation was key.

“No matter how sweet you are Spencer, you will remain so with or without sugar.”, you told him.

He laughed so hard at your presentation that soon you followed him, and both of you were on the couch, his arm around you while your face was buried in his shoulder, laughing.

However, he still didn't understand why the daughter of dentists became a bakery owner. Perhaps to ensure her parents' teachings reached everyone, helping them maintain their sugar intake and thereby increasing awareness among the masses. But he knew the influence of your mom’s cooking and baking must have been one of the reasons you pursued a career as a baker.

A ping from his phone broke his reverie. It was a message from you: “Eat the cookies too and don’t dwell on the PPP incident.” He could almost picture your mock-annoyed smile, your eyes narrowing playfully as you tried to look intimidating but only ended up adorable. He shook his head, smiling.

Reaching for the box, he opened it, savouring a cookie while picking up the first letter. He glanced at the date and realized it was from the year you met, back when you were just the charming owner of the bakery he frequented while he was still just an FBI agent.

“Dear Dr. Spencer Reid,” it began.

“I don’t even know why I’m writing this letter. I mostly do this for my close family and friends. My mom started this trend, and I’m continuing it. But we aren’t close, are we? I didn’t even notice you the first time you came into the bakery, nor the second. But today, at ten o’clock, I felt something was off. I checked every ingredient in the kitchen; everything was perfect. But when I got home, I realized what was missing… you.”

As he read, his heart raced with warmth. This was a glimpse into your early feelings, a record of how your relationship had begun. He appreciated the effort you put into this; he knew you had a habit of holding back your thoughts. He knew how much you loved him. All your actions screamed it. But you always had a tight leash on your thoughts. He had become better at understanding you over time, but your words still amazed him.

It was you who was missing. You always came in on Wednesdays, and today's Wednesday, and you didn't come. I didn't know whether you had found a new bakery providing more delicious baked goods and coffee than mine or if you were out of town. You were in the FBI, right? And you once said, I could vaguely remember, that you had to leave a lot for work. Must be an important person. :)

He laughed out loud, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “There’s no way I would find better food than yours, Y/N. Only you, baby. Even the whole team is addicted to your baking, especially Rossi and Hotch.”

I got so used to you, so comfortable with you that a day without you made me come out of my zone. I felt like a child on Christmas morning, eagerly searching for the presents that Santa might have left.

You coming into the bakery with a smile brings good vibes into my life, I guess. You talking about the origin of the ingredients I use in my goods and complimenting my and other chefs’ baking skills feels so nice. I didn’t realize how much you brighten my day until now. Thank you, Dr. Spencer Reid. I won't be able to say all this in person. I get nervous easily if you have noticed. So, this letter, which I am never going to give to you, has to suffice for my conscience to not make me feel guilty.

Yours truly,

Y/N Y/L/N.

He felt as if he were in high school, where teenagers had crushes and were continually gazing at each other to gauge their feelings and thoughts. However, here you had given him the letters instead, to let him know what you thought all along in their relationship.

He couldn’t help but remember how he had been drawn to you from the first moment he stepped into your bakery. It wasn’t just your incredible baked goods; it was you—your laughter, your passion, your warmth.

He was walking on the pavement to a newly opened bakery near the FBI building. JJ had been gushing about the doughnuts and the other goods they had been selling for days. She had once taken some for Henry, and he was hooked! The next weekend, JJ and Will had taken Henry there, and all of them came back fascinated by the bakery and its owner.

However, he was more convinced when Hotch overheard JJ and spoke about how much Jack liked the bakery (his almost-smile told him that he did too) and how nice and polite the owner was—an appreciation from Hotch, which was rare—he was sure.

He was on his way to the bakery. As he neared his destination, he could smell the aroma of melted butter, coffee, and cinnamon. His feet instinctively took over while his mind was lost in the sweet aroma.

Soon, he was standing in front of “BONA FIDE.”

“Wonderful name,” he mused to himself. He opened the door and went inside. He was mesmerized by the interior of the place. It was so perfectly planned. Everything was set in place in such a manner that it provided comfort to anyone seeking it, and peace to anyone looking for it. “No wonder JJ and Hotch are fans of this place, especially Hotch.”

Glass display areas on his right were filled with every baked good he could think of—garnished doughnuts with nuts and sprinkles, blueberry muffins, chocolate chip cookies on red plastic trays, croissants, Danishes, a variety of cakes in white boxes, and much more.

The left side had a sitting area, with tables and booths. His eyes roamed over the table near the windows. Every corner was filled with medium-sized palm trees, enriching the colour palette of the place. Each table also had a small plant.

He heard a honey-rich voice,

“Welcome to Bona Fide,” she murmured, looking up at him from the diary she was writing in, placing the pen down and securing the position of the page.

“She’s beautiful,” he thought, and he immediately flushed at his own thoughts. He hoped you hadn’t seen him.

“Hi,” he gave you a bright smile. “Um, do you have some blueberry oat muffins?”

He mentally face-palmed at his own question. Of course, they do. He is in a bakery.

You nervously shuffled around the counter, tapping your foot lightly. “Yeah, yeah. We have that.”

“Nice. Can I get one of those and an espresso?” he asked. “Please add an almond croissant as well.”

“Okay. Please wait for a moment.” You went away. You came back after a few minutes.

“Um, sorry, I forgot to ask. Do you want it to be packed or…?”

He had initially thought of eating in the serenity of his house. He didn't want to waste his time in a bakery, with all the sounds of different age groups mixing and causing him a headache after a day full of paperwork. However, his plans changed the moment his eyes fell on you. It would be more peaceful here than at home, even with the other nine people present.

“It's okay. I will eat it here.” You passed him a smile.

“By the way, do you know croissants are native to Austria, originated from crescent-shaped pastry—”

And that's how all of his visits went from then on to your bakery.

He continued to the next letter.

“Dear Spencer,” it began. “I feel so intelligent whenever you come into my bakery because I designed it myself. Every time the sun highlights your features, I feel blessed. You look ethereal, especially with your floppy hair and that charming smile. You might not notice, but I can’t help but stare at you sometimes.”

He was glad he was not reading in front of you. He would surely be a blushing mess if he had read it in your home. Even though it would have been funny, you would have put your head on the pillow, hiding from him. The thought made him chuckle softly.

“Someone should compliment you; you’d blush and look adorable. But I’m sure I’d fumble if I tried to do it in front of you. I try to avoid staring, but you make it impossible. My coworkers have even pointed out my goofy smile whenever you’re around. They’ve figured out my crush on you. See, you’re the profiler, and they are here figuring out my crush on you. You should have done that first.”

“Well, baby,” he murmured, “I’ve been too busy admiring you to notice.”

He was intent on preserving every little detail of your beauty in his remarkable memory. The way your eyes would widen and your lips part whenever someone praised your work or you, followed by a soft "thank you" as your cheeks flushed with colour. He loved how you would sing Taylor Swift songs when you thought no one was around to hear, each baked good accompanied by its own special tune. These quirks were just some of the many things he found endearing about you—what truly made you, you.

But I think it's good that you haven't figured it out; else, I would be a tomato shaded in front of you. I wouldn't want to be embarrassed, I’m sure of that. You teasing me is enough.

I love the way your eyes become a shade lighter than usual whenever you talk about what you love. It looks like a hundred-watt bulb has been ignited in your eyes. You love reading, and I love listening to you. Apart from my crush, it's an honour to meet such a knowledgeable and kind-hearted person, Spencer. Always be such a sweetheart.

“Now I know why she keeps looking at me like that whenever I read or speak in general,” he said, going over the words deliberately slowly. He wanted to absorb every feeling that would come with the first read of these letters.

As he continued reading, he felt more connected to you than ever. Your thoughts laid bare were a testament to the bond you shared, and he cherished every word.

The next letter revealed your hesitations about asking him out, a rush of emotions spilling onto the page. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, but every Wednesday, I get cold feet. It’s silly, I know. I see you with other girls, and it makes me realize how much I want to be more than friends.”

His heart swelled as he read your candid thoughts, your honesty striking a chord deep within him. You had navigated your feelings with such vulnerability, and he appreciated the depth of your affection.

Every time I had to endure a girl flirting with you, only I knew how much I was controlling myself not to have my fist contact with her face. Yes, I know all of them were more beautiful than me, maybe smarter. However, that doesn't mean I can't be jealous.

He gasped slightly, his jaw going slack. He didn’t know that you were jealous all that time. So, this is what the fun-making part is? His features softened. You always acted cool, so it was hard to tell when you were jealous. He would make sure he didn’t make you angry on this matter; else, he had first-hand experience of your violence. He shuddered.

I didn’t expect you to be interested in me. Imagine my surprise when you asked me out! I’m really sorry for my reaction—I was just shocked.

Spencer smiled at the memory of that day. You had lit up when he said yes, and now, as he sat in the quiet of his hotel room, he relived that moment, the sweetness of it washing over him.

Being with you feels like a dream. The possibility of getting to know you more makes my heart flutter.

He remembered how his relationship went through the BAU. The disadvantage of being with profilers all day is that nothing’s a secret. The teasing he received from Morgan and Emily. He never even told you that Morgan, Emily, and Garcia went to your bakery for the first time to see you with their own eyes.

“I’m never going to return these,” he said, smiling to himself, knowing that they were pieces of your journey together.

With the cookies and your letters beside him, Spencer felt truly blessed. No matter where he was in the world, he had you with him in his heart.

Rossi, ever prudent, caught on to the way Spencer was talking about Y/N.It was clear to him that love was either blossoming or already in full bloom. With this realization,he pushed Spencer to ask her out. Spencer would always be grateful to Rossi for that. He would definitely ask him to officiate their wedding.

Dear Spence,

I’ve always known you to be compassionate, calm, and composed. Never have I, in all these months, seen you lose your cool. Seeing you so terrified today, standing outside my apartment building, was unsettling—I won’t lie. I never imagined someone could become so important to me that I would worry about them like this.

The moment I saw the fear in your eyes, a chill ran through me. The thought of what could have happened to you if anything had gone wrong sent a jolt of dread through my heart. Now I find myself fearing for my safety, not just for me, but for you. Your pain matters to me; it matters so much that it eclipses my own. Honestly, I think it matters to you more than it does to me. I will forever fear the way your eyes were haunted and will always try to keep myself out of danger as much as possible, Spencer, but if by any chance something happens to me, move forward. Even though it may be difficult, do it for my sake! Move forward and live a beautiful life with your family.

Yours lovingly,

Y/N.

Spencer let out a shaky breath as he finished the letter, feeling a mix of emotions wash over him. This was his least favourite letter to read. “What does she mean by ‘your family’? It’s our family,” he muttered, fighting back angry tears. “This girl, I swear! We need to talk about this.”

His mind drifted back to that night when a single phone call seemed to steal a decade from his life.

It had been two A.M. when his phone rang. Hell, he would be lying if he said he even looked at the caller ID. He knew it couldn't be from the Bureau, as the team had a week's holiday. He just wanted the call to end as soon as possible.

“Hello?” Sleep thickened his voice.

“Is this SSA Dr. Spencer Reid?” A calm, female voice broke through, pulling him into alertness. He sat up, suddenly wide awake.

“Yes? Who am I speaking to?”

“I’m a paramedic. This is about Y/N Y/L/N. She asked me to call you.”

“What happened?” he asked, the urgency in his tone making him fully alert. He pushed the covers aside, heart racing at the mention of your name.

“Sir, can you come to her apartment building?”

“What happened? Please, tell me!”

“It’s best if we talk when you get here,” she replied, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“Tell me something,” he shouted, but all they said was that there was nothing to worry about and that he should get there. Well, there was something to worry about if you were called to your girlfriend’s complex at two in the morning.

When he arrived, a paramedic met him outside and directed him to you.You were sitting at the back of an ambulance, swinging your legs, a blanket over your shoulder protecting you from the early morning cold.

“Hey, hey, darling! Are you okay? What happened?” he asked, his heart racing as he took in your slumped shoulders and the frown on your face. Your hands shook, and as he stepped closer, he noticed your entire frame trembling.

“There was a fire on her floor. There was some faulty wiring; we got everyone out. She was the last one. We found her in the last room; she was sleeping, I guess, and it shocked her much more due to that,” the female paramedic nearby replied to his question.

As Spencer aim was fulfilled, he could see the firefighters working in the background. He thanked the paramedic and turned to you, locking eyes. You looked wide-eyed, and he cupped your cheeks gently.

“Hey, don’t worry. You’re okay. You’re safe now,” he reassured you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

He avoided any kind of physical contact with others as much as possible (except Garcia), but he wished to be near Y/N, to hold her—even if it was just her hand in his—to make sure she was there. With him.

Currently, the need to hold her was paramount. He wished to ensure she was alive and that her blood hadn’t stopped forever because if that happened, he didn't know what he would do. The sob that had been stifled within you broke free as your heart realized it was out of danger. You cried until the fear began to dissipate, resting your head on his shoulder as he held you closer.

“Shall we go?” he asked softly, not wanting to disturb the fragile peace that enveloped you. You hummed in agreement, and he helped you down from the ambulance, wrapping an arm around you for support.

His gaze fell upon the burns on your arms and neck, and he took your hands in his, desperate to comfort you. Your eyes met his, and you assured him they were minor second-degree burns, but he couldn’t shake the anger bubbling inside him. “Why didn’t they bring you out first?” he wanted to shout but the fact was they were doing their duty, and now he had his duty too: to take you to safety and wrap you in a bubble if possible.

In the car, he found the courage to ask a question that had been weighing on his mind for months. “Would you like to move in with me?”

“You don’t have to do this, Spencer.”

“No, I’m not asking because of tonight. I’ve been wanting to ask for ages. Please, think about it. Don’t rush your decision.”

Under the moonlight a few nights later, you and Spencer lay in bed, wrapped in a peaceful stillness. The only sounds were your gentle breaths. He was blowing softly on your burns, eliciting goosebumps in their wake.

“Spencer?” you broke the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Does the offer still stand?”

A moment of clarity washed over him as he realized what you meant. He smiled slightly, still a bit dazed.

“Of course, it does, star.”

“I don’t think I can live on my own right now.”

“I want to move in with you.”

Your lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, a tender expression of the love that had blossomed between you. His hands cradled your face, deepening the kiss as excitement surged through him.

“Our forever isn’t ending between us,” Spencer declared, his conviction unwavering.

“While I’m here, nothing will happen to you. I’ll make sure of it.” He wiped away a few stray tears that had escaped your eyes.

He finished reading the last letter while savouring half the cookies and coffee he had made.

Darling,

I meant to write this letter so many days ago, but I was putting it off so I could spend more time with you. It’s funny that I’m writing to you now while you’re right across from me—well, lying on the couch, engrossed in “The Collector�� by John Fowles. I’ll let you in on a secret: I’m sneaking glances at you every so often. You’ve caught me twice and also have found myself giggling. Now, you probably think I’m going to do a prank or something on you, and I am two seconds away from laughing out loud as you are currently very, very engrossed in telling me “Why I shouldn’t wage a prank war against an MIT graduate?”

I find it utterly adorable, my sweetness. You know how much I wish for us to remain in this blissful state forever, surrounded by love and free from any threat to the life we’re building together. You know how much I wish we remain like this forever, in so much love always, with nothing ever threatening to bring down the life we’re building. However, life is, for lack of a better term, life, and it will bring sadness and other emotions as well. But what I have realized is that whatever happens, I will always be there for you. The love, care, and understanding that we have gained over the years, Spencer, shines and is a captivating element of our relationship. My mom says, “A relationship having care, trust, and understanding as fundamental properties goes a long way! Love can come after that as well.” We have all of them. I hope our relationship also goes on to infinity.

Do you know why I chose the name ‘BONA FIDE’ for my bakery? There were countless options, but that one stood out. It’s catchy, it has a Latin flair that intrigues people, and, most importantly, it has a beautiful meaning: “Made in good faith—authentic and genuine.” When I opened my bakery, I was embodying that meaning—an assurance that the food and the atmosphere would be authentic and made with love. But now it doesn’t end here. Now, it stretches to you, Dr. Spencer Reid.

My darling, I’m making you a bona fide promise: I will love you unconditionally for my entire life. I love you, Spence <3. I love you more than I love my bakery, and that says a lot. But in all seriousness, I have never loved anyone as deeply as I love you. You have my heart, now and always.

With all my love,

Y/N.

As Spencer put down the letter, his vision blurred slightly. It had been so long since someone had appreciated him so openly. Your words filled him with warmth, a wave of gratitude washing over him for the depth of your feelings.

He smiled, thinking of the love that enveloped him. If someone had told his teenage self that he would one day experience this kind of happiness, he would have scoffed. There was no way he could have envisioned such a bright future, but now, surrounded by love from friends, the team, and you, he felt truly overwhelmed.

He caressed your handwriting and kissed the letters, hoping his affection could be transferred through conduction. He wasn't worried. Even if it didn’t work, he would show you himself how much he loved you. All his life.

“So it was all planned, huh?” Rossi asked Hotch, as they sat in a bar, drinks in hand.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hotch replied, taking a sip of his whiskey, attempting to maintain his composure.

“You knew Y/N and Reid would hit it off. That’s why you praised her bakery so highly. You basically orchestrated their meeting.”

“Y/N is a wonderful baker, and I genuinely appreciate her talent. I was not doing what you think,” Hotch said, a smirk threatening to break free.

Rossi shook his head, amused. “Attaboy!” he muttered, and the conversation drifted to other topics.

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doctorreidswife · 1 year ago

Text

Anything for you - Aaron Hotchner

You put yourself in danger and Hotch gets worried.

word count: 1433

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

You and Spencer had been sent on a case together with Child Protection Services. They were stuck in a room with what felt like a cult, worshipping this man - Cyrus - a man who was married to a 15 year old girl. While you hadn't given away that you were FBI Agents, they somehow got the idea that one of you were. You and Spencer were separated from the rest of the cult and approached by Cyrus and another one of his men.

"Which one of you is the FBI agent?" He asked, his hand resting on his hip, fingers dancing over his gun. You froze, your stomach sinking. You had no idea what was about to happen and you were hoping Spencer would be able to talk you way out of this one and manage to get you out safely.

"Why do you think one of us is an FBI Agent?" You could see the dread in Spencer's eyes too, glancing back at you. You swallowed thickly as Cyrus opened his mouth again.

"God will forgive me for what I must do." He spoke before pulling out his gun and pointing it at Spencer's head. His friend cocked the rifle in his hands and pointed them at your head and for a brief moment you thought you were going to die then and there.

"I--i don't know what you're talking about." Spencer stuttered, shaking his head. Cyrus didn't like that and aggressively pointed the gun at him.

"One of you does. Who is it?" He pressed angrily. You could see the fear in Spencer's eyes; he didn't want anyone to hurt you, but you weren't about to let anyone hurt him.

"Me." You spoke up, your voice quiet. Cyrus turned his head to you slowly and you looked up at him, your eyes meeting briefly before you spoke more confidently. "It's me." Cyrus reached out and grabbed a fistful of you hair, dragged you to your feet and dragging you down the corridor. You let out a series of grunts, trying to fight against him, your heart pounding beneath your ribs. You knew what was about to come, but you couldn't let them hurt Spencer. He was like a brother to you. He dragged you into a room and slammed the door shut, throwing you on the floor before getting in you face, his breath wafting over your cheeks. You stared up at him, too afraid to say anything back to the man,

"I told you not to put me in this position!" He roared in your face, spit splattering on your skin. You flinched away from him, hoping and praying that Spencer and the rest of the team were figuring out a way to save you. He hit you harshly across the face, the slap so loud that your team - who were listening in on the conversation from the bugs they'd planted - could hear it clear as day.

Hotch balled his fists up in frustration, not being able to help, his eyes closed and hand pressing against his forehead, struggling to listen to you getting hurt. Derek winced, his eyes closed. He hated hearing you in pain. Cyrus' knee came in contact with your stomach and you grunted again, winded.

"We gotta go in there." Hotch said, taking his headphones off for a moment, his stomach turning. He hated the idea of you being in danger. He always did everything he could to ensure that you were safe and he hated the fact that he couldn't be there right now to stop the beating you were enduring from the sick man.

"We'd be risking the lives everyone in there." Rossi shook his head, listening with a deep breath. It was a struggle for everyone, nobody knowing what to do other than just stand and listen to you being hurt.

"Get up!" Cyrus dragged you up before immediately punching you with such force that you flew back into the mirror on the wall behind you, the glass shattering and cutting into your skin. Cyrus pressed you into the wall, blood dripping down your face from your nose as he spoke into your ear. "Proverbs 20:30 tells us blows and wounds cleanse away evil." He grabbed the back of her shirt before throwing you into the opposing wall of the small room. Another grunt left your lips as you staggered to your feet, looking up at him with a burning hatred behind your eyes.

"I can take it." You spat out. He let out a low chuckle, cocking his head.

"Oh, you can take it?" He mocked, hitting you again. Rossi frowned, listening to your voice.

"Wait--wait. Listen to what she's saying." He said, the team frowning as you repeated yourself, louder.

"I can take it." You got to your feet.

"She's antagonizing him." Derek said, turning his head to look at Rossi. Rossi shook his head looking at Hotch.

"She's not talking to him." Hotch looked up, wiping his mouth. The worry was evident on his face.

"She's talking to us. She's telling us not to come in." He spoke, his mouth dry. He knew you were strong and you could persevere, but he really didn't want you to be hurt. You were his saving grace.

"Pride comes before the fall." He snarled, continuing to hit you. You didn't even get the chance to fight back, being thrown around. Your body hit the floor, trembling as you tried to hold yourself together. Cyrus stepped away, looking at your blood covered body. You didn't think you would be able to hold out this long. Derek threw his headphones off and Hotch looked to Rossi, visibly worried.

"Tie her up. Put her upstairs." Cyrus said, his friend moving towards your body to drag you upstairs. You just let the man manhandle you; if you fought with him you would end up worse than you already were.

*****

Due to the bug, you had managed to contact one of your teammates who told you when they were going to raid the place and put a stop to Cyrus at 3am. You hadn't figured out how to get out yet. You had spoken to Jessica's mom but she didn't seem to be on board and left you..... or at least you thought until she came into the room they were holding you in, talking to you in hushed whispers.

"You were right. They're setting the place to blow up. I told Jessie, Cyrus wanted her gather the women and children." She spoke, untying you. You rubbed your wrists, looking out the window, trying to spot anything before turning back to Jessies mom.

"Where is the man I came in with?" You ask. You needed to leave with Spencer. You couldn't lose your brother, not now, not here. She reached back and took your hand, her eyes gentle.

"He's in the chapel with Cyrus. It's 2:45 though. We gotta hurry." She said, tugging you with her.

********

You had successfully escaped the chapel in one piece along with the other members of the cult that was going on there before it had blown up. Your lungs filled with the smoke that was billowing around you. You could barely see what was in front of you, just being able to make out silhouettes of people moving around you. You felt dizzy, having being beaten and then escaping into smoke clouds. You stumbled down a couple stairs, head whipping around, trying to find Hotch. You needed him right now.

You stepped down the remainder of the steps, the smoke dissipating enough that you could decipher faces. You turned to the left and there stood Hotch. The look of worry on his face made you feel sick but before you could register what was going on, your feet were stumbling over to him. You threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck.

"I've got you baby." He held you tight, one arm around your waist, the other tangling in your hair. "I've got you,,, and I ain't letting you go." You could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his anxiety skyrocketing.

"Please don't." You whispered. You looked up at him, hands shifting either side of his neck before moving forwards and pressing your lips again his. He held you face gently, guiding your face closer to his. He kissed you back, his moving slowly against yours as you cherished the moment. He was glad you weren't dead and you were glad to be back in his arms. He pulled away, leaning closer to you ear to whisper to you.

"Anything for you.. My love."

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotch imagine #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #bau #x read #no y/n #behavioural analysis unit

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veeluvss · 1 year ago

Text

pizza delivery

reader x team (you are jj’s sister)

based of an edit i saw on tiktok but also lonestar ml <3

>1k

"how about we spend our last night together having some fun darling?" johnny snarled, handing me the phone. "order pizza. you're paying. i want a large pepperoni and fries too. don't forget the garlic mayo," she said nonchalantly, taking a seat behind me. i nodded, fumbling with the phone and making sure he couldn't see the screen.

dialling JJ's number, the phone shook violently in my hand. i was risking a lot. johnny had his gun in my back. i was only ordering pizza. "hey y/n what's up?" jj answered, voice chirpy. "hi," i tried to keep my voice strong. "i'd like to order a pizza for delivery." she laughed down the phone, "a pizza? i think you've dialed the wrong number!" she laughed. i heard emily's voice in the background. then i heard the phone engage to speaker. "i don't think so," i told my sister. emily spoke then. "she sounds scared." i was petrified. "do you still have the cheesy crust?" i mumbled. "the address? sure." i told them the address, praying the team understood - even if JJ didn't.

jj's pov i felt sick to the stomach. morgan looked to me in the back of the car and began speeding off in that direction. i wanted to throw up. my sister. my baby. "y/n are you in danger?" emily asked, her hand resting on my leg. "is someone there making you feel like you can't speak freely?" morgan added. "that's right," she said.

i gulped, shaking my head. i put my head on emily's shoulder. "morgan drive faster god damn it," emily cursed him. "we understand y/n," morgan said. garcia spoke then but i was shaking with fear. "help us on the way." emily leaned over to the phone. "tell me, how many people are in the apartment?" "would a medium pepperoni be big enough for two people?" she muttered back. her voice wavering. i couldn't listen anymore but i had to.

your pov the gun prodded my back and whimpered. "what are you doing?" johnny snarled. "i asked for a large." "there's one other person with you, is that what i'm hearing?" morgan asked. "yes! that's right!" my voice went up, a glimmer of hope. they were coming. "you're doing great," emily praised me and i wanted to cry. why wasn't JJ speaking? where was she? i needed her to come too. "is the person threatening you armed?" i heard rossi ask. they told me to ask for extra pepperoni and my heart was beating harder. this was taking too long - far too long. "is this person known to you?" emily asked. "mhmm," JJ knows johnny. JJ knows how bad he was with me, no one else does. "a family member? a spouse or an ex?" "the last one," i whimpered, feeling the gun press further into my back. "how long are you going to be?" "we're 8 minutes out," derek told me and my heart plummeted. that was too much time. "ask for peppers if there is somewhere safe you can get to..." emily said. "no! definitely no peppers."

jj's pov. tears were streaming steadily down my face at this point. when garcia told us his name, i whimpered and cowered in my seat. i knew i should have done something about him when i had the chance. "two priors of aggravated assault," garcia said. "she had a permanent restraining order against him." "so this is his third strike, he's not going peacefully," morgan threatened. all i could think about was my sweet little sister, sobbing in my arms at his abuse. why didn't i do something sooner?

your pov "what the hell is taking so long?" johnny groaned, cocking the gun. i gulped. "sorry, they're just really bus-" "then call somewhere else!" he shouted, making me cower. "i'm starving!" i took a deep breath, "listen, i might have to cancel this order. my boyfriends getting kind of mad so.." "listen y/n, we'll be there in less than two minutes with swat." morgan told me and i felt some sort of relief. emily begged me to stay on, asking me to try my hardest and i agreed. i was still waiting to hear my sisters voice. that's the only hope i needed. morgan began asking me questions but suddenly the cloth forced itself around my mouth. i couldn't breath. "nice try, bitch." johnny snarled, snatching the phone from my hand. then, sweet saviour, i heard her. "johnny, where's y/n?" "she's right here," he laughed before hitting me. i groaned and cried. "please," i sobbed. "say hi to your friends," he laughed. i needed JJ. where the fuck was JJ.

jj's pov. "listen johnny," emily said, keeping her cool. i froze hearing her groans in pain. i'd heard them far too many times to know she was hurting. if she made noise, she was in unbearable pain and i needed to hold her. "the cops are already on their way. how this ends is up to you." "this only ends one way!" he shouted down the phone and i flinched. my baby sister. emily began explaining to johnny the situation and i felt so sick. suddenly, we pulled up outside. emily carried on talking, pretending not to know so he'd know. "shut up!" he screamed and i flinched everytime. "please, shut up!" he repeated. "what's going on johnny? talk to me," morgan said, getting into place. prentiss told me the plan and i nodded, quickly wiping my tears. "she ruined it!" johnny snarled. that's what dad used to say. "she always ruins it." "nothing is ruined. we can fix this okay?" rossi said and as we took our positions by the apartment. as soon as the trampoline was up, i shook like a leaf, clinging to emily- watching the window like a hawk. "how? how can we fix this?" i heard him say inside. then emily speak on the headset. "my grandmother always used to say, when a door closes, open a window..." she said. i hid my head in her shoulder. "you have to take a leap... of faith." just then, i saw her flash of blonde hair and voices raise. emily scrambled to the air bag as she scurried off it- taking my sister into her arms. "it's okay y/n." she said. "you're safe now." she then stepped aside and i took my baby sister into my arms. she clung to me the way she did when we were children. "i knew you'd understand," she cried into my shoulder. i only held her tighter, feeling relief and love and anger. my god. what a pizza delivery.

#criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #emily prentiss head canons #emily prentiss x reader #jennifer jareau head canons #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau imagine #emily #jj x sister #jj sister #bau #behavioural analysis unit

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ssaflorencem · 1 year ago

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The thrill of killing you| BAU x Unsub reader

Introduction and about me:

I am new to tumblr, I go by she/her pronouns.

This story will be about an unsub reader and about the majority of BAU but will focus on Aaron Hotchner and Dr Spencer Reid.

In this story they reader (aka you) will be speaking both English, Dutch, and Swedish (I will translate all Dutch and Swedish into English)

Y/N is AFAB in this story.

There will be us of Y/N, cuss words and maybe smut (more likely then not). There will be mentions of murder.

While we know the BAU would most likely be able to catch reader quickly, this is going to be a bit like cat and mouse though.

There will be a little bit of Cat Adams mentioned and, in this world, Aaron never left criminal minds (but we still have Luke Alvez)

Reader was born in the Netherlands to Swedish and Dutch parents. She moved to America at the age of ten. (that’s why both these languages will be used)

Chapter warnings: Animal death (of dears been hunted). Mention of guns (hunting rifle and glock). Badly written. Mentions of SA (it’s not graphic at all). Not proof read, sorry about that :)

A/N: there is no mention of the BAU in this chapter. This is basically a background story of the reader. The next chapter will include the BAU.

Chapter One: To the end

It wasn’t hard doing what you do. You had learnt how to hunt at an early age, it was fun. The thrill of going out with only a hunting rifle was exciting to you. You left your phone at your house; you didn’t want any distractions. See, hunting deer was a nice way to blow of steam, that moment when the life of an innocent animal was in your hands, you felt like a god. That deer couldn’t beg for its life, it couldn’t ask for mercy, it could just look at you.

So now when the people you are hunting could beg and plea with you, ‘please I don’t know why you are doing this, I’ve done nothing wrong.’ All you could do was laugh. Sure, tell yourself you haven’t done anything wrong, tell me you’re innocent. Every person you had killed had done something wrong. They had hurt someone else and thought they could get away with it, and you could not let that happen.

Now the thrill of the hunt was better than ever, you know that phase where people say you’ll never experience a high, like your first ever high, that was a lie to you because every kill you did, brought you a sense of justice to this world, made you feel like you were doing something important. You no longer hunted deer, there was pity and sorrow in their eyes. Eyes that just gleamed innocence.

The only thing that was really different now to when you were just killing deer, is you did bring your phone. You brought it so you could listen to music. I mean it was a powerplay, you watched them cry and beg for their life, and you just put your headphones in. You watched how powerless they became; you saw the hope leave their eyes. And it felt amazing.

Your first kill (other than the deer) was a man called Michael O’Stevens. He seemed like a nice man, but he had sexually assaulted around 30 women, but after each one of those crimes he had committed he would go home to his wife and daughter. You couldn’t let him get away with that, but you wanted his wife to know why he had to die, why she was never going to see her husband again. So, you did the only logically thing and wrote her a letter.

“Dear Mrs O’Stevens.

I am sorry to inform you about your husband like this, but I can’t let you see who I am.

Your husband is not a nice man, he is not who you think he is. I’ve watched him, I’ve seen how he treats you and your daughter, but outside your house he is a completely different man.

He finds vulnerable women and hurts them. He takes them in his care and abuses them. He then throws them out like trash, like he hasn’t just caused them a great deal of trauma.

So, I’m sorry to write you this, but tomorrow will be the last time you see your husband alive. I won’t torture him, though he deserves it. I will just make him feel like those women, and then pull a trigger.

It may you hurt you, you may grieve him, but you deserve better.”

You knew better than to hand write it and send it through mail. You hand delivered it to her house in the early morning.

Killing Mr O’stevens was the easy part, but you needed a way of getting him away from the town he was living in.

So, the day after you sent Mrs O’stevens her letter, you dressed up like you had spent the night out drinking and walked down a road you knew Mr O’stevens frequently travelled. Your plan worked; I mean he was attracted to you like a moth to a flame.

He rolled down his car window and shouted;

“Hey, need a ride?”

You knew that you had to play hard to get, you knew that’s what he liked.

“Oh no, I am alright, thank you though.”

“I insist. It’s cold and quite frankly its dangerous to be walking alone.”

“I really don’t want to bother you; I live a far distance away.”

“You are not bothering me, please get in.”

“Erm, Okay.”

With that your plan was rolling into motion. You hid your gun, a .40 caliber glock, under your skirt. Though it was different to what you were used to, you couldn’t conceal a rifle.

He put his hand on your thigh and whisper in a low tone;

“I think you should repay me for been so kind to you. Don’t you?”

Oh, had he just asked the wrong person that.

“No, no I don’t.”

“Really? You think I should just allow you a free ride?”

“If you want me to get out, I can. But I am not repaying you shit, you offered.”

“Woah pretty lady, calm down. You only have to give me head, that’s all I want.”

“I am not giving you head.”

“Well, I didn’t really mean to ask you. I’m going to make you.”

He really was a piece of work.

“No, you are not. I am going to make you pay for all the other women you have hurt, you’re a sick son of a bitch. Now shut the fuck up and keep driving.”

You pulled the gun from under your skirt and held it to his head.

“I bet you think your wife is going to miss you. Huh? She won’t. Your daughter won’t even remember you. And your victims they’ll be glad you’re dead.”

He didn’t say a word for a while, he was crying though.

 After around 20 minutes he spook:

“Why me? How did you find me?”

“I don’t reveal my secrets. Now keep going, you only have another 10 minutes left.”

You had made sure the spot you were in was quiet. No one would catch you in the act, it was the perfect spot.

He didn’t say another word, not until he was out of the car and on his knees.

“Please, please don’t kill me?”

“It’s a little too late to be begging for your life.”

“Please I am sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“You won’t do it again, because you won’t be alive.”

With that you put the gun to his temple and saw his eyes fill with fear.

“Maybe before you die, if you beg for forgiveness, you won’t face a miserable afterlife.”

With that you pulled the trigger. You saw the life drain from him. It was satisfying, you felt the same rush you had felt from killing those deer.

Previous part | Next part

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #emily prentiss #spencer reid #behavioural analysis unit #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotch x reader #emily prentiss x reader #jenifer jareau #luke alvez #aaron hotchner smut #spencer reid smut

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messyyythoughts · 2 years ago

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the funny little things.

criminal minds Dr. Spencer Reid x female BAU reader

author’s note: oh dear... a new obsession, i fear! in all seriousness: this series single-handedly got me through the end of 2022, so what better to do than write something for it?! summary: your relationship with Dr Reid of the BAU is a good one, so good that there’s these little funny things that you both do with one another... warnings: working on murder cases (reader is part of BAU)/trauma from working on cases --> so read at your own discretion! ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

when you first joined the BAU, you were nervous but who wouldn’t be?

you’d put your heart, blood, sweat and tears into passing those profiling classes and you’d passed with flying colours! your parents were very happy for you, knowing it had been a lifelong dream of yours

on your first day you didn’t have a desk set up, and you were mortified that the BAU had forgotten about you on your first day

you almost turned around and walked back out of that office, until you bumped into Spencer Reid, that absolute charmer.

“oh, sorry,” Reid smiled apologetically, “hey, is your name–” you both said your name at the same time. Reid’s face broke out into a smile, and he held out his hand. “I saw your reports, impressive work for someone so young.” he had his hands in his pockets as he spoke. “not that you’re too young for the job or anything.” he added hastily. “oh thank you, uh, I’m just doing my best really.” you were trying to not stumble over yourself as you spoke, recognising Dr Reid as he stood in front of you. he asked where your desk was, secretly hoping he’d be able to talk some more with you, until you admitted there wasn’t a desk ready for you. a flush of embarrassment crept up your face, and Reid pressed his lips together in thought. he motioned for you to follow him to his desk, which he pulled a spare chair to and presented it to you proudly. “we can, uh, share,” he said, “until they find you one.” you smiled shyly, placing your bag on your lap as you took one chair and he took the other. he really liked your energy, so quiet, but he knew once you realised you could do the job he’d see the other side of you. when JJ called the team to the briefing room for a meeting, you found that your legs were cemented to the seat. this was it, your first case, what you’d been waiting for your entire life. Reid was up and gone, and you followed after a second of muddled thinking. inside the room was a team of faces you hadn’t met yet, but you knew all about them. Reid had a spare chair by his side, and after realising JJ was waiting for you to sit, you hurried over. as you sat down, JJ started bringing up the pictures of the victims and crime scenes, reading out the background information. you finally felt like you were getting somewhere.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

you were exhausted to say the least when you returned to the jet for the journey home. you’d followed Reid like a lost puppy on this case, but the others had been kind to you. Emily asked how you were doing each time she saw you, always privately checking in. JJ would text you for updates, giving you a smile whenever you crossed paths. Rossi made you feel like you were being included by asking for your thoughts, coming to you for second opinions. Morgan never left you behind anywhere, always on guard as you two went around together. Hotch carefully watched your body language and facial expressions throughout the case, jumping in when he thought you were beginning to fall behind. and Miss Penelope was always gushing at how polite you were when calling her for help, and promised to see you as soon as you returned. you obviously felt very welcomed, and even as quiet fell across the jet, it was comfortable. you text your parents that you were done with your first case, and closed your eyes to doze.

you didn’t even realise that you had leaned a bit too far across and had your head on Reid’s shoulder

he shuffled down a bit so your head rested easily, before taking out a book of his and picking up where he left off

the others soon noticed and couldn’t help but smile, because for once Reid looked content in the company of another person

after that, it was an unspoken rule that no matter where you sat on the jet, Reid was next to you. you almost always slept, unless a case had been particularly harrowing and it kept you awake thinking, and each time your head would fall onto Reid’s waiting shoulder. it was also another unspoken rule that when the jet lands, no one wakes you up, except Reid.

he’s the only person you’ll be happy to let you wake you up on the jet

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

the drive home is always longer than the drive to work, you find, but this changed when Reid offered to help save the environment by carpooling!

when in Virginia, Reid likes carpooling with you to work, and dropping you off home at the end of the day

he’ll take you anywhere really if you ask him too :)

after a case, he has to see you walk in and lock the door behind you before driving away to his place

it gives him peace of mind that you’re safe without him there, not that he could attempt to physically fight a random intruder away, but he could certainly talk them into confusion!

to pass the time between being at home and going to work, where you’d see Reid again, you picked up the habit of reading.

when you bring a book with you anywhere, Reid makes a point of taking interest in it, then looking into it after you’ve finished it just so he can talk to you about it over the following weeks

even with the oddest of books, he’ll put himself through reading just so he knows what you’re talking about the next time he sees you

he would never have read The Hunger Games trilogy without your influence.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

it goes without saying that the BAU job is not an easy one. you’ve seen more mangled bodies than a graveyard, and walked through such gruesome crime scenes you were sure they weren’t real. the persistent nightmares started not long after your first few cases, and you told no one. not your parents, not even Reid, who you were sure had experienced nightmares too. there was one night in particular where you had been tossing and turning, then stretching and walking around your bedroom to try and tire yourself out. nothing stopped you from seeing the images of women that had been torn apart, discarded like they were nothing every time you closed your eyes. and then your morning alarm went off.

Reid noticed that you were off as you got into the car, no “good morning sunshine” or “hey handsome” as you normally said when buckling up

“you’re quiet, no sleep last night?” Reid asked, pulling away from your place and side-eyeing you

“yeah, sadly, it’s just one bad night though.” you half-smiled at him, trying to sleep in the car on the way to work

when you got there, Reid had coffee ready to go at all hours of the day, sometimes preempting your needs and placing a full mug on your desk before you could get up

at the end of the day where you’d only filled out paperwork, Reid saw that you were struggling, and had an idea

“so, I was thinking, there’s actually this new way to fall asleep by tricking your brain. we could try it tonight so you catch up on your sleep.” Reid said casually, as you finished more coffee. “I’ll do anything right now to get a decent night’s sleep.” you sighed, getting up to wash your mug before finishing up the paperwork for the night. Reid smiled as you walked off, the perfect plan in his head. once you were both done, Reid drove to your place, and joined you inside. “now what?” you asked, eyes heavy but brain still ticking over. “the fun part. you get changed, I’ll do the rest.” Reid started messing with your TV, and you just followed his instructions. you showered, changed clothes and met him back downstairs. he had the TV ready and the sofa made up. “I’ll stay for a bit to see if it works,” he then added, “if you don’t mind?” you waved a hand at him, you didn’t care if he slept on your bed, and he settled down next to you on the sofa.

an old Hollywood movie starts to play, black and white, and you glance at Reid in suspicion

he tells you to just relax and watch it, and about halfway through you’re falling asleep to the sound of the famous Transatlantic accent, exaggerated sound effects and old time music

Reid is overjoyed that his idea worked, because this is what he does sometimes to bore his brain to sleep on those difficult nights

he finds himself falling asleep too, but gets up and turns out the lights and closes the curtains before locking your front door

and settling back down on the sofa next to your sleeping form

he tells himself he’ll run home in the morning and change before work

the next morning, you both wake up, late. with less than an hour to get to work, Reid sped home to shower, change and eat before picking you back up. despite being in fresh clothes, with hastily applied makeup on and carrying breakfast in your hands, you both looked awful. you were much brighter this morning though, as you laughed getting into the car. you arrived at work just in time, huffing and sorting out hair and clothes at your desk. Reid’s shirt was half tucked in and your hair was so damn messy. luckily, no one paid much attention to the vibe between you both that day. you two chatted all day about the ending of the film that neither of you actually watched, and you asked Reid to come over again soon and let you choose the movie.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

it wasn’t until a few months in that Reid overheard you talking to your mother on the phone, he loved the way you smiled and laughed when talking to her, and then how you said goodbye so softly. what he’d do to have you speak to him like that for a day. when you caught him staring, you threw your pen at him. you had desks right next to each other, so you often wheeled on over, just to talk to him. whenever you approached, he stopped whatever he was doing and gave his full attention to you. “so,” you began, leaning back in your chair, “seeing as you like listening to my phone calls with my mother,” he held back a smile, “how is your mother doing?” you asked. he handed you a piece of writing paper, and you raised an eyebrow at it. “she’s doing good, I was actually just writing my letter to her.” you scan over his words and smile. he’s telling her about his recent case (as much as he can without getting into trouble). you hand the letter back and watch him finish the rest over the course of the day. on the drive home he thinks of something else to add in before he sends it off tonight.

the first time Reid mentioned you to his mother in his letters, it was nothing but a mention of your first few days in the BAU

all of her replies consisted of asking about you, and if Spence liked you

Reid blew it off as you being work friends and nothing more, but a mother always knows.

now Reid asks you to add in a paragraph to every letter he writes, because his mother likes hearing from you (she thinks you’re smart, and very funny)

sometimes you receive random greeting cards from Reid’s mother through the post, and you reply to them with a smile on your face

you have all of her cards pinned up in the kitchen, Reid saw the collection once and marvelled at it

“oh yeah, your mother is lovely, I get one every so often.” you tell him, smiling at your growing collection. “I’m almost jealous.” Reid admits, with a smirk as you admire the cards. “she wants to meet you, you know. I kind of promised her I’d visit soon, and bring you with me.” your eyes met his, and he struggled to maintain eye contact. “why didn’t you say?” you lightly shoved him on the arm and booked tickets to see Reid’s mother that evening over takeaway and drinks.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

your visit to meet Reid’s mother went well, really well. you didn’t bat an eyelid when she said out of context things and made zero sense, you just smiled and listened. Reid had never adored you more than in that moment, sat across from his mother, listening to her rattle on. Reid was aware that he did the same sometimes, but you also listened to him when he was on one, and he loved you for it. you had the weekend in Nevada, and after visiting Reid’s mother, he suggested going to several different places. you spent all weekend going around Nevada, taking pictures for your parents and videos for your own memory. you’d booked adjoining rooms in the hotel after some careful consideration, but that didn’t stop you from walking straight into Reid’s room in your hotel robe asking to borrow toothpaste because there was apparently none in your bathroom. the truth was there was toothpaste in your bathroom, you just wanted to see Reid. it became a joke for you, and Reid was none the wiser, for a while.

Reid discovered when he was hanging out in your room that it was all a joke

after you had fell asleep watching a really bad movie, he went to turn the bathroom light off

only to find your own toothpaste sitting there on the bathroom sink, untouched

he realised what you’d done with a smirk and turned the bathroom light off

the next morning when you asked to borrow toothpaste again (purely to see him half-awake in bed) he said yes without hesitation and you let yourself into his room with a hidden smile

this was the first time he’d been part of an inside joke, and he loved it

you were in your short pyjamas, the heat of Nevada hadn’t been a joke, even with aircon in the rooms you found yourself hotter than usual. Reid watched as you entered his bathroom, taking the toothpaste, and returning to your bathroom. he smiled as you brushed your teeth, clueless to his newly acquired knowledge. he knew just what to do with it too. when you got back to Virginia, you showed your parents some moments from the trip and they asked some very thought provoking questions. “honey, this doctor guy seems lovely, are you sure it’s just a friendship?” your mother asked, watching you from across the kitchen. you smiled at her and nodded. “we’re good friends, and good work colleagues, I couldn’t ask for more.” you replied, to which your father nodded. “that’s all we can ask for, a good friend in your life.” your father then got up, walking over to you and your mother in the kitchen. he poured himself some coffee, thinking. you knew exactly what was coming. “but,” you started to chuckle, “are you sure this isn’t something more?” you nodded in silence, and he walked away, not believing a word you said. your mother eyed you up as you scrolled through the selfies of you and Spence in Nevada, and tutted. even she could see it, you were falling for this Spencer Reid character faster than you realised. still, she didn’t say anything, not yet at least. perhaps you’d come to the realisation once the trip became a memory and you thought about what a good time you had with your ‘work friend’. you giggled to yourself whenever you thought about the toothpaste stunts you’d pulled, thinking Spence was none the wiser, until he dropped you off home one evening after work and then a few minutes later knocked on your front door. “Spence?” you asked, opening the front door to let him in. “hi, yeah, I actually meant to ask you something but it slipped my mind until just now.” he said, so casually. “I don’t have any toothpaste at home, could I borrow yours?” your cheeks betrayed you, as did your facial expression. Reid smiled devilishly at catching you out, and you brought your hands to your face. “you knew the whole time? oh why didn’t you say?!” you laughed weakly, as Reid watched you unravel in your hallway. you looked straight at him, eyes twinkling with mischief, but face so hot. Reid closed your front door, leaving his hand on the handle. “so?” he asked, eyes meeting yours. “can I borrow your toothpaste? or do I go home empty handed?” you finally got a hold on yourself, and pressed your lips together before facing him. “Spencer Reid, are you asking me for toothpaste, or something else?” you asked, taking steps towards him. “I think we both know the toothpaste isn’t what I’m here for.” he said it so calmly, looking at you with his beautiful, smart eyes.

you shared your first kiss with the charming Dr. Reid that night, and things only got better from there

anything toothpaste related was immediately taken the wrong way by you two, whether on your own or with company

you both tried to hide the blossoming relationship, but soon the others in the BAU noticed all of those funny little things that happened between you and Spencer, and it became hard to hide it without feeling like you were suffocating one another. there would be serious discussions ahead, and you were already preparing to be transferred to another team, but you could do it if it meant staying with Spencer. something told you that Hotch may be able to keep things as they were for the time being, if you both behaved. and you’d both never do anything to disappoint Hotch, intentionally.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

#messyyythoughts #criminal minds #spencer reid #behavioural analysis unit #bau #dr reid #spencer reid headcanon #headcanon #reid #spencer #cm bau #spence #toothpaste #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader

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magewritesstories · 6 months ago

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[ SPENCER REID ] IT'S BASIC MATH, REALLY

cw. my continuation of unit chief!spencer reid x gen z!agent, in this installation you try to explain girl math to him [fluff.] wc. 601 (it's a small blurb)

SPENCER REID KNOWS MATH; HE HAS A PHD IN IT TO PROVE SO. But somehow you've managed to stump him (which happens more often than the genius would like to admit) with the concept of what you call 'girl math.'

It started when you walked into the small crowded bar near the Quantico building where the team had decided to meet up after a particularly satisfying arrest.

You strutted into the room in a pair of gorgeous, expensive-looking shoes, and of course, Penelope had to comment on it.

"Oh my God, Y/N," the blonde practically squealed as she pulled you into a hug, "You look even more gorgeous than usual—I love, love, love those shoes!"

You let out a soft laugh as you joined the rest of the team at the table with a quick greeting. "Thanks, Pen, they were actually pretty cheap," you reply, "I got 'em at Bloomingdales."

"Really?" JJ asked, joining in on the conversation, "Were they having a sale?"

"Nope, but they were only $156," you answer.

Spencer raised his brows in surprise, "You think $156 is a cheap price for one pair of shoes?"

"Mhm," you hum as you take a drink that Luke hands you, "It's girl math."

"Come again?"

"Girl math," you clarify, standing closer to him so that he can hear you over the loud music.

Spencer leans towards you instinctively, genuinely curious about whatever 'girl math' was.

"So, basically, these shoes cost $156, right?" you say as he nods along, "But they're comfortable and cute, plus they go with like four different outfits, which means I'll be wearing them a lot. In the coming month, I'll probably wear them, like, 10 maybe 15 times. Which means that they actually only cost me around 10 to 15 dollars—you know, if you divide 156 by the amount of times I wear them."

"But you don't pay for the shoes in installments," Spencer replied in confusion, "And your shoes aren't a car, the amount you walk in them doesn't depreciate their value like mileage would a car."

You shrug as you take another swig of your drink. "But this way, I make myself feel better about spending $156 on shoes," you reply with a grin.

"So it's a form of consolation?" he replied with a small grin playing on his lips.

You roll your eyes as you give him a soft shove, "Shut up, Dr. Reid."

Spencer lets out a laugh at your playful eye roll.

"Well, either way, you do look nice in them," he said.

"You sayin' I don't usually look nice?" you teased, leaning even closer to him.

The close proximity suddenly made him realize the rest of the team had magically vanished from the table.

(Luke and Penelope had managed to drag JJ and Emily to the dance floor, while Matt, Tara, and Rossi were making conversation with the bartender.)

"Silence, really, doc?" you continued, feigning a hurt expression, "I'm hurt."

"I—I—What, no!" Spencer quickly replied, turning back to you, "That's not what I—what I mean was you look nicer than usual—not that you don't usually look nice or anything—"

You laughed, throwing your head back just a little, as you stopped him from digging himself an even deeper grave. "Calm down, Spence, I was joking."

You put down the now empty glass and grabbed his arm. "C'mon, you need to loosen up, let's dance."

Spencer let you drag him to the dance floor, where he pointedly ignored JJ and Emily's surprised faces as well as Luke and Penelope's eyebrow wiggles.

He was never going to hear the end of this.

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hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds · 8 months ago

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Could you do the (16/17 year old) step daughter of spencer who calls him really late one night to pick her up from a party because she's (very) drunk and she knows he's up bc of his insomnia. And she clearly sees him as her father bc her dad left before she was even born.

Spencer Reid X Stepdaughter Fem Reader

THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS!

Request: Could you do the (16/17 year old) step daughter of spencer who calls him really late one night to pick her up from a party because she's (very) drunk and she knows he's up bc of his insomnia. And she clearly sees him as her father bc her dad left before she was even born.

Third person pov...

Y/N was out at a friends house for a party, she was having fun, dancing and drinking all night long. She hadn't gone to a party in ages.

As the clock struck 1 am, Spencer was lying in bed, eyes wide open. Insomnia had been a constant companion for him, It was especially difficult on nights like this, when his stepdaughter Y/N was out at a party.

Y/N was a bright, independent teenager. But Spencer couldn't help but worry about her, especially since her biological father had left them before the H/C girl was even born. Spencer had taken on the role of a father to Y/N and they had formed a strong bond over the years.

Just as Spencer was about to drift off to sleep, his phone rang, jolting him awake, he immediately sat up, concern flooding through him, groggily he answered the call, expecting it to be Y/N checking in before heading home.

"Hey Y/N, everything okay?" Spencer answered with a touch of worry in his voice.

"Hi, uhm, can you come and pick me up from this party? I'm really drunk and I don't want to stay here anymore" The teenagers words were slurred and her voice was shaky.

"Of course, Y/N, I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Just stay put and I'll come get you" Spencer replied, already getting dressed and grabbing his car keys.

"Thanks, Spencer" Y/N said

She then gave him the address of the party and hung up. Spencer quickly got dressed and left his house in a hurry.

As he drove towards the address, he couldn't help but worry about Y/N, He had always been there for her, but he knew that her teenage years would be difficult but he would be there for her.

When he arrived at the party, Spencer could hear the music blaring from the house. He parked his car and walked towards the front door, bracing himself for what he would find inside.

As he neared the house he saw her sat outside. Y/N was sitting on the porch steps, her head hanging low, her H/C hair hanging infront of her face.

He could see the tears streaming down her face, and his heart broke. He got out of the car and walked towards her, sitting down next to her.

"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer asked, gently placing a hand on her back.

Y/N wiped her tears and nodded. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called you. I just wanted to go home"

Spencer hugged her tightly, rubbing her back as she cried. "It's okay, Y/N I'm here for you"

"I-I'm sorry" the teenager hiccuped, trying to stand up but failing miserably.

Spencer gently helped her up and led her to the car, Once she was buckled in, he drove her home in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

They drove in silence for a few minutes before Y/N spoke, fidgeting with her painted nails "I'm sorry, Spencer" she said, her voice shaky with emotion.

"I know I shouldn't have called you. I just...I needed somebody and i couldnt call my mum" Spencer reached over and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"It's okay, N/N. I'm here for you. Always." They drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence. When they arrived home, Y/N stumbled out of the car, her legs unsteady from the alcohol.

Spencer helped her inside, and she collapsed onto the couch, shivering from the cold.

Spencer pulled a throw blanket over her, and she immediately snuggled into it, her body still shaking. He sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

They sat like that for a while, Y/Ns head resting against Spencer's chest. She was still shivering, and he could feel the guilt and regret radiating from her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I shouldn't have done this. I know you must be disappointed in me."

Spencer gently lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes. "I could never be disappointed in you, Y/N You're not perfect, and I don't expect you to be. But I do expect you to be safe. And to always come to me when you need help."

Tears filled the H/C teen eyes, and she buried her face in Spencer's chest. "Thank you" she mumbled.

"I love you, Spencer. You're the only dad I've ever known"

Spencer's heart swelled with emotion, and he held her tighter, tears prickling at the corners of his own eyes.

He had never thought of himself as a father figure, but in that moment, he knew he would do anything for the girl in his arms.

They stayed there, cuddled up on the couch, until the sun began to rise. Y/n had eventually fallen asleep, her breathing slow and steady.

Spencer smiled, grateful for the opportunity to be there for her in her time of need.

She may not be his biological daughter, but in that moment, none of that mattered. They were family, and that was all that truly mattered.

He shifted himself so he could put a pillow under her head, he then unbuckled her shoes and put them down by the couch.

Standing up he looked down at her. "How am I going to do this" he muttered to himself, the tall man then leant down he wrapped an arm around her shoudlers and put his other one jnder her legs so he could lift her up.

Once she was in his arms she automatically curled up in his arms again, a content sigh escaped her lips. Smiling Spencer begins walking to his bedroom.

He wasn't going to let her sleep on the sofa, when he opened the door he he set the teenager down on the bed and lent her body against his so he could pull back the covered for her.

He then tucked her in, brushing her hair away from her face, he then kissed her temple. "Good night Y/N" he whsipers before closing the door.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, so sorry for the wait for this request! Sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Requests are open!

Word count : 1120

#criminal minds #fanfic #behavioural analysis unit #x child reader #fluff and comfort #oneshot #light angst #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #father daughter fluff #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid #tw drunk #teen party #arsehole bio dad

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cuddleprofiler · 23 days ago

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SPENCER REID

When you give Spencer all the letters you wrote throughout your relationship When Spencer and you go on a date and end up dancing in the rain

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med-ex · 1 year ago

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i dont know if this borders on crack!fic vibes but i have an overwhelming urge to write a fallout/criminal minds au fic

#fallout #criminal minds #fo4 #fo3 #fo76 #fallout76 #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds au #david rossi #derek morgan #behavioural analysis unit #bau #bau team

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antheaholmesblog · 20 minutes ago

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The pain in his eyes. The tears...the trauma...his trauma. Everything that involves children... it's too much for him. And I can't blame him when you think back to what he said in episode 8 season 1. Where his own abuse was implied...the abuse by his father as a child. It all makes sense and I just want to give him a big hug and hold him close. To tell him that he doesn't always have to be strong...even if he thinks he does.

I almost started crying too.

#aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x you #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner thoughts #aaron hotchner trauma #hotchner #criminal minds cbs #cm #bau #behavioural analysis unit

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reidsworld · 4 months ago

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Unveiled Secrets

Summary: The BAU team has a sneaking suspicion that their stoic leader, Aaron Hotchner, is in a relationship, but they don't know the extent of it.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: Jack and Haley do not exist in this, kissing, cuddling, allusions to sex, light teasing, use of Y/N, pet names (my love, baby), that’s it I think, lmk if I missed any! Oh and pure fluff!

Word Count: 1.8k

Mars speaks… hi my loves, I was motivated to write so I am using this to figure out my writing style a bit and how I want to format my works! I’ve been going through a bit of a Hotch phase lately so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist

The BAU office was slowly quieting down as the day turned to dusk, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows across the desks. Aaron Hotchner, head of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, stood in his office, the soft light of his desk lamp highlighting the stress lines that had deepened over the years. He checked his watch—almost time to go home. A rare, soft smile touched his lips, a sight reserved for only one person.

He closed the case file on his desk, slipping it neatly into his briefcase before reaching for his jacket. His phone buzzed just as he picked it up, and he glanced at the screen to see a text from you, Can’t wait to see you. Should I pick up dinner?

That smile of his deepened as he quickly typed a reply, I’ll pick it up on my way home. See you soon, my love.

He hadn’t planned on keeping his relationship with you a secret, nor did he have any grand strategy for revealing it. He assumed that given time, his team would figure it out on their own. After all, they were profilers—eventually, they would notice the subtle shifts in his behaviour, the unexplained absences, the slightly more relaxed demeanour after particularly stressful cases. He hadn’t intended to hide it forever, just until they pieced it together.

As he opened the door to his office, however, he nearly collided with Spencer Reid, who was walking by, engrossed in a file. Reid looked up, startled, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Sorry, Hotch! I didn’t see you there."

"It’s alright, Reid," Hotch replied, a calmness in his voice that belied the momentary flicker of surprise in his eyes. He wasn’t often caught off-guard, especially not in the safety of his own office.

Reid, however, had a habit of noticing things others missed. His eyes flickered to the phone still in Hotch’s hand, the screen just dimming from inactivity. Before Hotch could slip it into his pocket, Reid’s sharp eyes caught your name on the screen. His brow furrowed in confusion as he processed the information.

“Y/N, as in the academy’s Y/N?” Reid asked, the question out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Hotch froze for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Reid’s sharp mind to pick up on the anomaly. Reid’s brain worked at lightning speed, connecting dots that others might have missed. He knew Hotch was fiercely private, but this reaction was new.

“Goodnight Reid” Aaron replied, quickly, shutting down any further questioning that may have come from the young genius.

Reid blinked, taken aback, but his curiosity was now piqued. However, years of working with Hotch had taught him when to push and when to back off. “Have a good evening, Hotch.”

As Reid walked away, Hotch let out a slow breath. This wasn’t how he wanted the team to find out, though he couldn’t say he was surprised. He had always assumed it would be Reid who would notice first; the young profiler missed nothing. Still, he had hoped for a bit more time. But the cat was out of the bag now, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the team found out.

The next morning, the BAU office was abuzz with more than the usual activity. Reid’s brief encounter with Hotch had set off a flurry of curiosity and speculation among the team. They were profilers, after all, and even the smallest clues could ignite their imaginations.

“I’m telling you, something’s definitely going on with Hotch,” Reid said as the team gathered in the bullpen before their morning briefing. He couldn't shake the image of your name on Hotch's phone from his mind.

JJ, trying to keep things under control, said, “Come on, guys, it could just be a friend. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Morgan leaned back in his chair, a knowing grin on his face. “Reid’s onto something. Hotch has been acting a bit differently lately. He’s not staying late like he used to.”

“And he’s been smiling more often,” Garcia added, her excitement barely contained. “The man’s practically glowing sometimes.”

Rossi, with a teasing tone, suggested, “Maybe he’s just getting better sleep. But I have to admit, there’s definitely something different.”

Garcia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Don’t you want to know? If Hotch is seeing someone, that’s huge!”

Rossi shrugged, still smirking. “Of course, I’m curious. But let’s give him some space. If he wants us to know, he’ll tell us. And if we’re lucky, we might even get to meet her.”

Prentiss grinned, "Do you think it’s serious? Like, she’s ‘the one’?”

“I think,” Rossi said thoughtfully, “if Aaron is keeping this under wraps, it’s because it’s important to him. He wouldn’t be so secretive if it wasn’t serious.”

Just then, Hotch entered the bullpen, and the conversation quickly shifted to a quieter, more focused buzz. The team members turned to their desks, but the air was charged with unspoken questions and speculative glances. Hotch, sensing the change in atmosphere, gave a brief nod before heading to his office.

As the day dragged on with paperwork and case briefings, the undercurrent of curiosity remained. The team exchanged looks, clearly eager to discuss Hotch’s secret, but they were careful to avoid bringing it up directly. The excitement about Hotch’s personal life was palpable, and everyone was waiting for the right moment to address the topic.

Later that evening, Aaron finally headed home after a long day. As he walked through the front door, he found you curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, and a glass of wine in your hand. You looked up from the book you were reading, a smile spreading across your face when you saw him.

“Hi, baby, how was your day?” you asked, setting the book aside as he walked over to you.

“Tiring,” he admitted, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “And eventful. Reid saw a text from you last night.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Oh no. What did he say?”

“He asked if it was from you,” Aaron said, sitting down beside you. “I shut him down, but I think I gave myself away. The team’s been acting strange all day.”

You chuckled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “So, they’re onto us?”

He nodded, slipping an arm around you and pulling you closer. “It was bound to happen eventually. I just didn’t expect it to be now.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner,” you said, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “They are profilers, after all.”

He smiled down at you, his expression softening. “I never planned on keeping it a secret forever. I just figured they’d figure it out on their own time.”

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked with a playful grin.

He sighed, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your shoulder. “I suppose it’s time to tell them. They’re already curious, and I’d rather they hear it from me than through rumours.”

“You know they’ll be happy for you,” you said, squeezing his hand. “For us.”

“I know,” he agreed. “But there’s a part of me that’s nervous. I’ve always kept my personal life separate from work, but with you… it’s different.”

You leaned up and kissed him softly, the warmth of the moment lingering between you. “We’ll do it together, then. When you’re ready.”

Aaron’s gaze softened, but a playful glint sparkled in his eyes as he pulled you closer. “Right now, I want to do anything but think about the team,” his voice dropped to a low murmur.

You felt the heat of his words and smiled, leaning in closer. “Sounds perfect,” you whispered, as he nuzzled against you, his lips brushing yours with a grin.

A few days later, Rossi had decided to host a dinner party for the team. The team was eager to catch up and enjoy the evening. Aaron knew it was the perfect opportunity to introduce you to the team as his girlfriend.

As the doorbell rang, Rossi answered the door to find Hotch standing beside you. As you both entered the living room, the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly as Hotch introduced you with a genuine smile.

“I’d like you to meet Y/N, my girlfriend,” Hotch said, his voice steady but warm.

The room fell into a stunned silence before erupting into excitement. Garcia’s face lit up with recognition and delight. “Oh my God! It’s Y/N! I knew it was someone! This is incredible!”

Morgan’s grin widened as he approached. “So, this is the elusive woman behind Hotch’s new smile! You’ve been keeping us in the dark for too long, Hotch.”

JJ smiled warmly as she extended her hand. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Y/N, we’re really happy for both of you.”

Reid, ever the profiler, couldn’t resist asking, “How long have you two been together?”

Hotch laughed softly, putting an arm around you and smiling fondly. “Almost five months now. Y/N works as the unit chief for the BSU in the academy. I met her when she invited me to guest lecture.”

Garcia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I knew it! You two have that perfect power couple vibe. We have to plan another get-together so we can hang out more!”

Rossi, enjoying the moment, gave Hotch a friendly pat on the back. “Well, I guess this means you won’t be around for poker nights as often.”

Hotch chuckled. “I’ll still make time for poker nights, don’t worry.”

As the evening continued, the team enjoyed getting to know you better. The atmosphere was filled with laughter, light-hearted teasing, and genuine happiness for Hotch and you.

“So, when do we get to do this again?” Garcia asked eagerly.

Hotch smiled, feeling content. “Soon. We’ve been talking about having you all over for dinner. Now seems like the perfect time.”

As the team chatted and enjoyed the evening, Aaron felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Introducing you to his team had been a significant step, but their warmth and support made it all worthwhile. The thought of merging his work family with his personal life filled him with quiet joy.

As the party wound down and the team began to leave, Morgan gave Hotch a sly grin. “You know, Hotch, we’re happy for you, but don’t think we won’t give you a hard time about keeping this a secret for so long.”

Hotch chuckled, appreciating the camaraderie. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With that, the team said their goodbyes and headed home, their spirits high. Hotch followed them, feeling grateful for the support of his team and looking forward to the future with you.

Mars speaks... (again) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Also, would anyone be interested if I wrote for other fandoms such as F1 and Marvel? Any feedback is greatly appreciated🫶

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aperrywilliams · 23 days ago

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Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.

Summary: You've become friends with Penelope Garcia over the past year, and after much insistence from her, you agreed to visit her at her office one day. What you didn't expect was to run into your ex-husband there. And surely you didn't expect that he - Spencer Reid - is Penelope's coworker.

Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)

Warnings: Yes. I set this one as +16. Mention of Reader being drunk. Curses and some strong words. Mention of sex - oral (m&f). Nothing detailed. IDFK anything about the US marriage and divorce system.

A/N: 2nd Fic for the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge I was hosting during October with my sis @babymetaldoll. I'm so sorry for the delay, but life has crushed me these past weeks.

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The ding of the elevator signals you are already on the sixth floor. The doors open, and the first thing you see are people going and coming. It's the bustling of a lively office at noon. But this is not just any office; this is the FBI headquarters in Quantico. You never thought you would be in a place like this in your life, but here you are after your friend Penelope convinced you to visit her at work after insisting for weeks.

BAU - Behavioural Analysis Unit reads the glass doors in front of you. This is the place. Looking at the scattered desks on the open floor, you look for a clue that leads you to Penelope.

People walk past you without paying much attention. Maybe you should ask for help. But before you can decide to do so, a voice behind your back breaks you out of your thoughts.

"Can I help you?"

You know that voice. You're sure of that. But wait. It can't be—not after years of not hearing it.

You slowly turn around just to confirm that your suspicions are correct. Standing in front of you is a curious Spencer Reid, who pales when he sees your face. He remembers you, too.

"Oh God, Spencer?"

A stupid question with an obvious answer, but that doesn't take away the surprise of coming face to face with someone you never thought you'd see again in your life.

"(Y/N)? Wow..."

Time has passed, you tell yourself. Spencer looks more grown up. His hair is a little shorter, and he doesn't look so skinny anymore; it even seems there's some muscle under the white shirt he sports. Some stubble adorns his face, and dark circles can be seen under his eyes. But his beautiful eyes are the same as you remember them from when you first met in Pasadena.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, still shocked. Spencer's expression seems pretty much the same as yours.

"Uh. Well, I work here," he explains after clearing his throat.

A Caltech's genius working with the FBI? You wouldn't have expected it. But then again, you didn't expect to cross paths with him after all this time. "And what are you doing here?"

Good point. Why did you come? Oh, yes. Penelope Garcia.

"I'm here to see a friend," you mumble. Spencer's confused look changes to what? Disappointment? Of course, you're not there for him. It's stupid ever to think that, considering you haven't talked since the day you said goodbye and parted ways in that tiny apartment you shared in Pasadena.

And then an awkward silence. What are the chances that after so long, you were going to meet Spencer? And if you're wondering how long, we're talking about ten years when you were both pursuing your degrees at Caltech. In your case, it was the first one because Spencer was already in his third PhD when you met.

Before you can say something else, the one and only Penelope Garcia burst into the room, looking for you.

"There you are! Why didn't you call me when you got here?"

Totally unbeknown to the tense silence, she steps in front of you and hugs you. You can feel Spencer's confused look on you. "I'm glad you made it! We have so much to talk about."

"Garcia is your friend?" Spencer asks, gaze on you, and it's when you realize how weird the situation is. Penelope turns to him, an eyebrow furrowed.

"Of course, I'm her friend. And she came to see me," Garcia scoffs until she realizes something. "Wait a minute. For what reason would you ask that?"

Spencer clears his throat. He doesn't know what your opinion is about people knowing that fact.

"We know each other," you explain to her before asking. "How do you know Spencer?"

"No way! What a coincidence!" Garcia chirps. The exclamation raises the interest of the people entering the bullpen. Some of them approach to where you all are. "Reid? We work together!"

What were the chances of something like that happening to you, you wondered, as Spencer continued to stare at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"What's happening here, baby girl?" A toned man asks Garcia, who can't contain her excitement.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," she announces as two women join the conversation.

Garcia briefly explains to the audience who you are and that she just found out that you both know Spencer, too. After the first impression, she proceeds to introduce you to those there: Derek, JJ, and Emily. From the corner of your eye, you can see Spencer downcasting his look at their curious glances at him.

"So you guys know each other?" JJ asks.

You both nod at the same time as Spencer mutters, "Caltech."

"Ah, fellow grads," JJ assumes. And in part, she is right. Indeed, you met while you were starting your master's degree and subsequent doctorate in the same area as Spencer.

"Kind of," you admit, seeing Spencer's cheeks flush and feeling yours burn too. The guy who was presented as Derek Morgan has a smirk plastered on his face.

"College sweethearts?" Morgan asks in a teasing tone. And he is kind of right, too. You lock eyes with Spencer, and you can't tell if he did or wants to say to his colleagues what you really were at that time. But before you both can even think of saying anything, Garcia's eyes widen in recognition.

"No! Wait a minute! Did you go to college together? You said the other day that you-" she starts connecting information, and you start to freak out internally. Before you can stop her, Garcia blurts. "Oh! Spencer is your ex-husband? You have to be kidding me!"

Shit. How did she figure it out so quickly? Sure, it might be your fault for sharing details about your college love life with her on a night filled with alcohol, but how could you have known she was already acquainted with him? You were careful not to mention any names or specifics, yet here you are.

"Wait, what?" Morgan's smirk turns to jaw slack in astonishment. There is no difference between JJ's and Emily's reactions. Spencer's face is flushed, and so is yours.

"Someone is going to say anything?" Emily asks, bouncing her eyes between you and Spencer.

"Uh, well—" you start, giving Spencer an apologetic look, who returns you an awkward tight-lip smile.

"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.

"When we were at college," you add.

You can feel the heaviness in the air and the mid-surprised, mid-incredulous looks from the people around you. Morgan is the first to break the silence.

"Damn it, pretty boy. What a story you had hidden from us," he says, patting Spencer's shoulder. JJ - the quietest one until now - senses how uncomfortable you and Spencer are with all the attention.

"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?"

After a moment of consideration, Emily seconds the motion. "Yeah, Morgan, would you help me with something?"

"Su- sure," Morgan agrees, still confused but following Emily nonetheless.

"But—" Penelope is still trying to understand the whole situation and has many questions she wants to ask.

"Come on, Garcia. I'm sure (Y/N) will find you when she is ready," JJ encourages, looking at you. That's when you get out of your daze and nod.

"Yes. Yeah. I'll text you, Penelope."

And just like that, the same way people surrounded you just seconds ago, now it's just you, Spencer, and an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you worked here. I didn't know you were Penelope's coworker, and—" you start to apologize.

"No. Don't. It's not your fault," Spencer rushes to speak.

"I shouldn't have told her about - about," you trail off.

"About you having an ex-husband?" Spencer supplies, and you shyly nod.

"Believe me, it's not a thing I tell everyone I meet, but Penelope, well, she-" you try to find the right words. Spencer nods in understanding.

"Yeah, she can be pretty convincing when she wants to know something."

Another halo of silence passes between you until it's Spencer who breaks it this time.

"So, how have you been? I mean, it's been a while." You nod, still uncomfortable with the situation but just as curious as you assume Spencer is.

"Yeah, it's been a while," you confirm. "Good, all good on my end. Working and living. What about you?"

"Me? Good. Working here at the BAU."

"Cool."

Cool? What does that mean?

A sharp 'Reid' is heard from behind you both, making you turn to the source. A well-dressed man with a serious gaze is looking at Spencer from an office threshold. "Can you come, please?" the man adds. Spencer nods quickly. "Sure. I'll be there in a second, Hotch." The answer seems to satisfy the man, so he nods and returns inside.

Spencer turns to you again. "Uh. I - uh-" he stutters, motioning where the man called Hotch was a second ago.

"Yeah. I have to go, too." You have to, actually, but you don't think you can face Penelope or anyone else right now, for that matter. "It was nice to see you." As you are about to run away subtly, Spencer calls your name. Stopping in your tracks, you turn, and your eyes make contact with his again.

"Would you - uh. Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?"

It catches you off guard, but you only assume he's being polite. You think you should return the gesture.

"Sure. Why not," you say, giving him a little smile. "Now I have to go. Bye, Spencer."

And with that, you resume your escape to the elevator.

----------

From the moment he saw you at the BAU, Spencer has never been the same. He never imagined he would see you again, especially under those circumstances. Spencer was so astonished he wasn't even able to start a decent conversation or even ask for your number after inviting you to a coffee.

Also distressed about the interrogation he knew his colleagues would subject to him, Spencer wanders through the BAU halls as if he were not in the present. And, in fact, he is not. After seeing you, he has only been able to think about you and the years you both spent in Pasadena.

A smile tugs the corners of his mouth every time one of those memories comes to him.

"Okay, pretty boy, spill," Derek prompts when he sees Spencer in the kitchen two days after your encounter.

"Uh? What are you talking about?" he turns, confused, to see Derek looking at him with a frown and arms over his chest.

"Come on! You know what I'm talking about. About the pretty lady, Garcia's friend, who happens to be your ex-wife?"

Spencer huffs through his nostrils.

"I already told you. We met in college, and we were together until we graduated," Spencer says nonchalantly as if it's normal. He tries, at least. Morgan scoffs at his attempt.

"Reid. You married her. You just can't tell me you 'were together' as you're talking about any other relationship. She was important; what happened?"

Morgan remembers well a few years ago when Spencer told him about a great love he had while at Caltech and how, from time to time, those memories would come to plague his head. It wasn't hard for Morgan to connect the dots and assume you were the person Spencer was referring to.

Spencer sighs thoughtfully. "We ended it by mutual agreement. We both knew our career paths were going to be incompatible, and we both had so many dreams to fulfill. Our greatest act of love was letting each other go. At least that's how I saw it for a long time."

"But you regretted it at some point," Morgan adds, and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you try to find her then?"

"I didn't want to be selfish. What if she already had her life going perfectly, and I was just going to show like a kicked puppy? It wasn't fair for her."

"Man, I get it, but what about now? You found each other again. Can it be a kind of sign or something." Spencer glances at Derek with an incredulous look.

"Are you listening to yourself? You sound like Garcia," Spencer grumbles, making Derek laugh.

"Yeah. Definitely, it's something my baby girl would say. But, truly speaking, Reid, why not take a chance?"

Spencer huffs in frustration. "I - I don't know anything about her in these years! I didn't even ask for her number that day. I was frozen on the spot!"

"And that will stop you?"

A satisfactory smirk appears on Derek's face when Spencer stays silent, contemplating his options.

---------

Not wanting to talk about the encounter with anyone, you write to Penelope, apologizing for having to leave suddenly that day. She responds everything is fine and doesn't even ask you why, to which you are tremendously grateful.

But as the days pass by, you know you have to talk to her at some point, so you invite her to come over one afternoon.

You have been thinking a lot and rationalizing everything that happened. Of course, there was always a possibility of crossing paths with Spencer someday, but turning it into reality is different. So you conclude all your nerves were out of the shock of something unprovable happening, not because seeing Spencer after ten years made you fall off your balance.

With that in mind, you were ready to talk to Penelope.

Once she gets to your apartment, you first apologize for leaving that day and explain how you got frozen after the unexpected encounter. Garcia tells you not to worry and even says she is sorry for telling everyone about her discovery without any filter.

"It's just- I was so impressed. I couldn't help it!" she explains, and you nod in understanding.

"It's okay. I guess no one expected something like that."

"Right? But I have to ask. How did Spencer Reid become your husband? I mean, you told me about your ex-husband and all, but I'm sorry, I can't picture Spencer even talking to a girl without stuttering, less asking for marriage, and then divorcing? It's beyond me."

It catches your attention how she talks about him. Although you met Spencer when you both were very young, knowing how shy he was, over time, you managed to beat his barrier and meet a wonderful man full of charisma and not so sheepish after all. Has he never shown that side to anyone else in all these years?

"Why so much interest in my marriage? It's been a decade," you ask Penelope, and her scoff sounds a mix of obvious and disbelief.

"Honey, it's unbelievable Doctor Loving Reid has kept THAT information to himself for so long. So now that it is out, it does pick my full interest. Spill. What happened?"

You shrug your shoulder. "It's like I said the first time I told you. We were young, a whole life ahead. Neither he nor I wanted to cut each other's wings."

"But you loved each other!" Penelope complains with an adorable pout. You have known this woman for what? Less than a year? And she seems brokenhearted about something that happened to you and Spencer ten years ago. She's right, though. You and Spencer were mad in love. Unlike what people have believed for years, your marriage was not a result of a wild night of alcohol and passion in Pasadena. You were both quite sober when you went to court that day. Both even had written down the vows you professed in front of the judge- yours on a piece of paper and Spencer in his brain, of course.

"If it's any consolation, the year we were married, we were very happy," you tell her, fondly remembering that time. Garcia rolls her eyes.

"Well, exactly that's what I mean, miss. If you were so happy, why end it like that?"

The only answer you can think of is 'it's complicated,' but that will surely increase her curiosity.

"We wanted the best for each other, even if it meant being apart. As good rational beings, we weighed our options, and the sensible thing to do was to end it."

Putting it in that way, Penelope can believe it. Having known Spencer for years, she knows for a fact his big brain is capable of analyzing every probability of every possible outcome. What seems incredible to her is how feelings - how love - can be rationalized like this.

A ding from your phone pauses your talk with Penelope. You glance at the device and see a text from an unknown caller.

'Hi. I'm Spencer. I stupidly didn't ask you for your number, so after cursing myself for the past few days, I had to find it out. Don't get mad, please. I would really like to grab a coffee with you if you are up to it. If you don't want to, I understand. And if you don't want me to contact you again, just say the words, and I'll stop. But I really hope you say yes. SR.'

Okay. This is unexpected. Indeed, you remember not having exchanged numbers with Spencer, and you didn't give it much thought either, assuming his invitation had been out of pure kindness. But here you are, reading the message and feeling an emotion you can't describe. Nostalgia, maybe?

You narrow your eyes to Garcia, who immediately suspects who sent you a text.

"Before you ask, I didn't give him your number!" she defends as you breathe a deep sigh.

"He's asking me out for coffee," you tell Garcia, and she can't help but squeal.

"Will you say yes?"

"I don't know. Is it a good idea to get back in touch after all these years?" you muse more for yourself than her.

"Honey, only you know what's best for you, but if you ask me, I remember you telling me after you both split up, you were left with a lot of 'what ifs' in your head, and some of them are still floating around. Maybe this could help clear them up once and for all."

Penelope has a point. But now, you have a dilemma in the form of a coffee invitation.

---------

It's just a coffee. Don't overthink it.

You have been telling yourself that for a while as you walk to the coffee shop where you agreed to meet Spencer today.

He is just being nice.

Sure, after ten years of no contact, this sudden encounter in the FBI - with all his colleagues there - maybe pressured him to invite you to grab a coffee.

Still lost in your thoughts, you don't realize you are already there. After taking a deep breath, you step inside and look around. You spot him in a booth in the corner, back to you. A smile tugs at your lips, remembering all the coffee dates you both had back then. It was your thing. Hours and hours talking about everything and anything until the owner asked you to leave because they needed to close.

"Hey," you greet, making Spencer look up to you.

"Hi," he returns, a smile plastered on his face. "Thanks for accepting my invitation," he gestures for you to sit.

"Sure. Why I wouldn't?" After taking off your coat, you sit in front of him in the booth.

"Yeah. I mean, we haven't talked in ten years. And then we see each other at my work, and- well, it's kind of weird, I guess?"

Weird is an understatement, you think.

"You are right. Kind of it is."

You notice there are two coffee cups on the table. Spencer follows your line of sight.

"Uh- I had ordered already," he points to the coffee in front of you. "I don't know if you have changed your order, though."

"Thanks," you mumble appreciatively. "I haven't changed it, actually."

"Great!"

You try to gauge his expression. Is he nervous? Anxious? Because you are.

"Spencer, if you are uncomfortable, we can just go home. There is no—" You can't finish the sentence before Spencer cuts you off.

"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't think that."

"Okay," you concede. "I won't. But you need to be honest with me, okay?"

"Of course," Spencer agrees.

"You felt obligated to invite me here after what happened?" You bluntly ask, and Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No, of course not," Spencer immediately denies. "I really wanted to see you. It's just that-" he hesitates. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "I just didn't know if it was right, you know? I mean, we never reach out, and then it happens. We never agreed-" he trails off. And you know exactly what he's talking about.

Back then, when you decided to go separate ways, Spencer asked you what would happen if you met again in the future, and you shook your head, saying it probably wouldn't happen. So yes, you never talked about the possibility, and Spencer understood he should never contact you, and so did you.

"I know. We didn't," you recognize, regret slipping in your voice. "I guess I didn't want to think about the possibility back then."

You two know there are things you left out and left unsaid the last night you were together in Pasadena, but you don't think it's a good idea to say them now—not when this is supposed to be a friendly reunion between exes.

"So, since when have you been working in DC?" Spencer asks after you tell him about your work career on the west side.

"Almost two years," you admit.

Two years living in the same city. Spencer wonders if Garcia hadn't met you, he would have ever seen you again.

Your professional career has certainly been prolific; Spencer can tell after the stories you have been recounting. Years of experience and important jobs, just as you had dreamed when you were in college. These are the same dreams you shared with Spencer during the nights of studying and those where there was everything else but studying.

"I thought you were going to pursue academics. When did the FBI happen?" you ask after saying it's enough of talking about yourself.

"I thought that too. And I did it for a while. Then I met Gideon. He - uh, he showed me what the BAU had been doing, and I knew it was my place to be."

Spencer fondly tells you about his early years working as a profiler and how much he has learned. It seems that, like you, he has found his professional calling.

Two hours and three coffees later, you are both laughing about the weird and funny things you have seen in the past years. It feels good, and much of the initial nervousness has dissipated. But there is one topic you both have actively avoided: romantic relationships.

You are curious about it, and Spencer is, too, but neither of you wants to be the one to mention it first. Spencer is who breaks first.

"Are we going to talk about - about that? I feel we have been dancing about the topic, but I don't know if you want to."

You can't help but snort out of being caught and for the subject itself. You are sure your almost nonexistent love life is enough to make anyone cry or laugh.

"I'm still that obvious?"

"You have your tells," Spencer shrugs. You raise an eyebrow.

"I have my tells? What about you, doctor? You have been bouncing your leg the same way you did the day you defended your engineering PhD dissertation."

Spencer's eyes widen. "You still remember that?"

The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.

"Of course I do! I tried everything to try to calm your nerves. Do you remember what I did, and actually, it worked?" Spencer's cheeks redden because he remembers.

You won't tell the details, but you recall, as clear as the day, how you helped him to 'decompress.'

"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."

"So, what do you want to know?" You ask, still not fully ready but resigned, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Are you with someone?" Spencer asks, and you gasp, feigning surprise.

"No beating around the bushes, uh?"

Spencer's cheeks flush, and he can't help it. "If it's out the line, you don't need to answer."

Seeing him flustered and biting his lower lip makes your heart do flip-flops. It's something you haven't felt in a long time—ten years, to be exact.

"If you had asked me a month ago, I should have said yes."

Indeed, you had a boyfriend until a month ago when his insistence on moving in with you was too much to handle, and his frustrated self decided to say a lot of awful things when you said no to him.

Some people would say you have commitment issues, and maybe you have. But in all honesty, until this day, there is no one you have felt secure enough to take that step.

It's ironic, considering you already have a marriage under your belt.

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.

"No. Don't be. It wasn't meant to be."

'Like I used to think about us,' you want to add, but you refrain. Instead, you explain in not much detail every failed relationship you have had. Spencer listens intently, his heart aching to think of how a part of you might have been broken with each failed relationship. He hasn't done any better, though.

"And that's all. As you can see, there is nothing too exciting to remark," you chuckle to lighten the mood. "Tell me about you. There is a Mrs. Reid waiting at home?"

Spencer snorts, shaking his head. "No. There's no Mrs. Reid. The only one who has held the title has been you," he says with a look that makes your breath hitch in your throat. What is it? Longing?

"Wow. I feel honored," you tease, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

Spencer tells you about the few relationships he's had over the years. In his own opinion, none of them are very meaningful. When you ask him why, he doesn't hesitate to answer. "This job not only consumes my time, but also a lot of me as a person. Not everyone understands that."

He would like to say no one has ever been so important as to make him doubt continuing to work in what he does. The only person who ever made him doubt was you. But instead of saying it, he prefers to end with a "I guess that's why no one has stayed."

Listening to him talk is like listening to yourself, trying to minimize the fact that professional success is possibly one of the main reasons why other parts of your personal life have never flourished.

It was your choice. You both decided to make it that way. But sometimes you wonder if...

"Do you think we made a mistake?"

Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.

You look at him, baffled. "What?"

"Do you think we shouldn't have broken up? That I shouldn't have left?"

You pondered his question for a second. It has to do with how you felt at that time? Or does it have to do with how you felt after or even now?

"Honestly? I don't know, Spencer." A resigned sigh leaves your lips. "I always wanted to think it was the right thing to do."

"You never regretted it?" He asks you, and you shrug, not knowing much to say. Instead, you opt to ask him the question back.

"Did you?"

"Yeah. I did," he admits. "Sometimes I still do."

A heavy silence settles between you. The admission that you both had doubts about the drastic decision you made almost ten years ago is difficult to take. It unfurls a whole new set of questions whose answers you are not sure you are ready to hear or say. But it's only fair he knows your truth as you know his now.

"For what is worth, me too. I regret it. More often than I would like to admit."

Spencer's heart starts to beat faster; breath hitches in his throat for a second.

He tentatively reaches out to rest his hand on yours. You watch the action and think you know what it means. His eyes are hopeful. Something you'd like to mirror in your own, but the uncertainty is there, and you can't help it.

"Spencer, no. Please, don't." You try to articulate but not take your hand away from his. "I wish I could tell you I'm willing to try- to try to make up for lost time, but I can't. Even though it may not seem like it, we're strangers to each other, and I'm not in a place to even think about- you know."

Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.

"I know. And I'm not asking you for us to redo our story and start from where we ended. No. But I would love to get to know you again and be your friend."

"Friends?" You ask, brows furrowed. He smiles.

"Yeah. First and foremost, you were always my best friend. My person. Even if we never get back together as a couple, and we don't have to, I don't want to lose you again."

You take a moment to think about his words. What would be the harm? You're at a stage in your life where you don't want to live thinking about those things you wish you had done and didn't. The things you might have done differently. Why not put reason aside for a moment and just be?

You squeeze his hand back, a sign of yes; you're willing to get to know the Spencer in front of you.

---------

Three months have passed since your conversation with Spencer at the coffee shop. You both agreed to reconnect as friends, which has led to many coffee meetings, lunches, dinners, movie nights, and walks in the park. And to say your heart feels full and happy would be an understatement. You've realized how much of the Spencer you met in Pasadena still exists, and the connection that once brought you together has revitalized and is stronger than ever.

Neither of you has wanted to rush things, and so far, you're both happy to be able to spend time together.

Spencer has also opened the door for you to the BAU team, which has been his family for eight years now. In addition to the bond you already had with Penelope, you now regularly attend the girls' night she hosts with JJ and Emily. You've also gotten to know Derek and Hotch better and understand why Spencer considers them like his older brother and father figure, respectively. You've also become a favorite of David Rossi, who doesn't take no for an answer every time he invites you to one of his dinners.

Like tonight, where you find yourself vividly chatting with the girls in a corner of Rossi's backyard.

"No way I could have passed Dynamics and Mechanics without Spencer," you acknowledge when you're talking about the most challenging subjects you had in college.

"It seems a very interesting topic," Emily jokes, not knowing what the hell you were talking about.

You giggle at the memory, cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"I still remember those afternoons Spencer spent trying to help me memorize the Euler–Lagrange equations and the Hamilton's principle. He made it interesting, if you know what I mean," you wink at them.

"I don't think I want to know," JJ muses. Emily snorts at the suggestion.

"Oh, I definitely want to know what that means," Penelope pipes. You chuckle.

"One night, he made me recite the whole equations with his head buried between my thighs," you confess with a mischievous look.

"Oh my God!" Garcia's jaw goes slack, and Emily's eyes widen in disbelief.

"You fucking kidding me!"

"Definitely, I didn't want to know that," JJ shakes her head.

"Well, I helped him with Applied Computer Science. He had to produce a code to operate a string of relational databases while I was on my knees su-"

"Okay! I get it!" Garcia cuts you off, with her hands in the air, as Emily laughs and JJ groans.

"You asked," you shrug, a smirk on your lips.

"Okay, okay. But hear me out. Since we are talking about college time, and honestly speaking, we all have had someone in college, more or less important, with whom to study or do other things," Emily prefaces, making you giggle. "But from that, to marry, and one year later to divorce? How do you get over something so intense like that?"

You have questioned yourself the same for years.

Looking past JJ's shoulder, you see Spencer talking with Morgan, beer in hand, and you can't help but feel the smile creeping on your face when he looks back and winks at you.

If anything, the past months have made you realize what you had back then with him was unique. But what you're having now? It is as unique as before and better.

"I don't think you get over it. And it's okay; you learn to appreciate it and value the chances life gives you after."

The girls follow your line of sight and share a knowing look. When they see Spencer approaching the group, they collectively decide to go inside the house for a new drink.

"All yours," Garcia whispers to Spencer before going in a bee-line with Emily and JJ.

"What was that?" Spencer asks you with a quirked eyebrow when the girls are out of sight.

You look at him, pretending not to understand.

"I assume they wanted a refill," you say with a shrug. Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And you don't? Do you want me to get you something?"

"No. I'm fine," you respond to his offer. "Besides, I think I've got my alcohol ration filled for the night."

"If you're done for the night, I can take you home if you want."

That's the Spencer you know, always concerned about your well-being and comfort. You shake your head.

"Not yet. Walk with me, though?" You ask, extending your hand for him to take. Without questioning reasons, Spencer nods and takes your hand. The two of you begin to walk towards the pool area, where the sound of the music coming from the house is less audible.

It's not unusual for you to hold hands now. You trust each other, and it's been an innocent way of showing affection. And while the tension of something more has been building, neither of you has wanted to take the next step yet.

When you stop in the pool deck, Spencer moves to stand in front of you, his free hand reaching to tilt your chin with his index so he can inspect your face for some kind of clue.

"Are you okay?"

You nod as your fingers, from your joined hands, absently play with his. A thorough smile tugs the corners of your mouth. Your eyes admiring Spencer's honey ones in the moonlight.

"More than okay," you admit. But Spencer knows there is more in your mind you're not saying.

"Yeah?"

"Yep." You're stretching this on purpose. A smirk plays on your face. Spencer knows what you are doing.

"Good." His voice is amused. This game was one you both used to play back then, testing each other's curiosity and seeing how long it took the other to demand an answer about what the other was thinking. Usually, you were the one who won since Spencer couldn't stand not knowing.

"Have you grown patient over the years, Dr. Reid?" You ask, entertained. Spencer's laughter fills you with a feeling you thought was dormant inside you, but he has managed to refloat.

Not wanting to prolong his torture, and because you don't have it in you to hold back any longer, you decide to speak.

"I know you remember, but can you tell me the first thing I said to you the day I met you?"

Spencer's eyes narrow in search of the moment you're referring to.

You were in the library, busily searching through the shelves for a book you couldn't find. Spencer could see the stress radiating off of you. After watching you for a few seconds, he decided to walk over to the shelf, and leaning down, he pulled a book from the top shelf before presenting it to you. "Maybe this is the one you're looking for?" And he was right. Your first thought was, 'How did I not see it before?' and then you realized the weirdest thing of all, 'how did he know which was the book you were looking for?' You didn't know the guy, and as far as you knew, he didn't know you either.

Seeing your confusion, he proceeded to explain. "It was an educated guess, seeing as you have Fuller's, Richmond's, and Helbert's there. I assumed you were in Thermodynamics 301 and didn't have Priest's."

Spencer laughs before trying to imitate your voice. "Can I buy you a coffee in appreciation and keep you in my purse for future reference?" You nod, smiling.

"Bold of me for asking that to a stranger, uh?"

"Bold of you for thinking I would ever refuse," Spencer says in a mocking tone to match your joke. You both share a fit of laughter. Once it subsides, your eyes fix on him.

"Bold of me to think I wouldn't fall in love with you after all these years." Your words hit Spencer, whose expression changes from light to serious in a second.

"What?"

"It's like they say. At some point, something has to give. And this is my moment." You pause before continuing. "I can't say I'm sure what's coming, because I'm not. I also don't know if what you've seen of me these past few months is worth enough for you to love me again. But there's one thing I do know. I love you. I loved you, I missed you, and now I've loved you again."

Spencer is speechless. His brain tries to piece together each word you say. You take both his hands in yours, and you can feel them tremble.

"If you'll have me, I want to be the one that stays," you add, hoping your words are good enough to convey your emotions.

You don't know when tears start running down your cheeks. It might be when you see Spencer's glassy eyes.

"I do love you. And I want you to be the one who stays," he rasps before releasing your hands to cup your cheeks with his own, leaning down to whisper, "Let me be the person you want to stay for."

"You already are," you whisper back before closing the distance between you, allowing your lips to meet in a tender, sweet kiss. A new promise and a new beginning for two souls that were meant to be. Thanks to fate, or maybe not. That doesn't matter anymore.

As you kiss, part, whisper sweet nothings to each other, and kiss again, not so far away, are two people watching the scene with satisfied looks on their faces.

"Do you see that, Hot Stuff?" Garcia asks Morgan. A smirk appears on his face.

"Yeah, mama. I see it, clear as the day."

"We did it!" Penelope cheers, whisper-yelling, making Morgan chuckle.

"I should never have doubted you, baby girl," the man says, kissing her cheek.

"Of course not. But I forgive you only because I'm so happy our plan worked wonderfully."

-----------

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

Penelope Garcia's curiosity always gets the best of her. She has gotten to know you better in the past months since the IA convention where you met. She sees you as a beautiful person and a good friend. So when you told her on a night full of alcohol about your ex-husband and how important your relationship was for you, Penelope couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know more, so maybe she could do something to help. Do what? She didn't know, but maybe more information about it would give her an idea.

Quickly typing on her keyboard, she finds a Pasadena Marriage License with your name on it. Checking the date, Garcia notes you had married in the summer before your senior year. It was expected. You already told her that.

What was unexpected, though, was finding out who the person you had married was. Garcia had to read the name twice before realizing the huge discovery she had just made: Spencer Walter Reid.

'No way! It has to be a mistake,' she squealed, fast-reading the information on the papers. No, there wasn't any mistake. You married Spencer Reid almost ten years ago. The same Spencer Reid she has known for so long and works with her every day.

But wait. You had said, ex-husband. Where are the divorce papers?

Typing again, she finds a divorce request signed by you and Spencer a year after you married. So that is true, too.

Overwhelmed by everything she has just discovered, Garcia is about to close the web tabs with all this data when something pops up: it's a court resolution dated six months after the divorce request. The resolution reads that the request has been denied because one of the parts couldn't be notified for comparison to the Pasadena tribunal. Garcia narrows her eyes and types again, looking for an updated legal document granting the divorce request. She finds none.

'Double holy fucking shit! They are still married!'

Without knowing what to do with this new information, she starts pacing frantically in the office. Garcia knows that the information she found wasn't for her to know, but at the same time, how does it not you or Spencer know this? She can't tell you, but she should, or maybe not. Grabbing her phone, she dials the only person she knows will help her with the dilemma.

"Derek Morgan. I need your delicious ass in my office right now!"

And just like that, a plan emerged. A plan to give a little push to destiny. A little push to you and Spencer cross paths again. Maybe this time, for good.

-----------

"And when are you going to tell them about their failed divorce?" Morgan asks Garcia, who is still looking at the couple giggling and kissing.

"Oh, shush. Let them enjoy tonight. There will be time for that."

Derek Morgan shakes his head, laughing. "Okay. You're the boss, mama. You're the boss."

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

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