#cute spencer reid

[piqtescue]

this photo is rewiring my brain

[fandom-imagines-stories]

London Rain

Season Two Episode Two

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 2303

Series Masterlist

Summary: In an attempt to settle both of their minds, Spencer takes the reader on a vacation to London. Aaron voices some concerns to Dave. 

Notes: This season has a lot of darkness, so I wanted to work a little fluff in while I still could. It’s a little chaotic, but this episode is really just meant to be a moment of fun. (I promise after the angsty beginning, it will get cute) Also, I don’t know the actual location of anything in London so I’m doing my best. 

Warings: Mentions of alcoholism, mild sexual content

-

Toothbrush? Check. Wallet? Check. Sticky Note reminding you to call Aaron when you landed? Check. Files to work on so you wouldn’t fall asleep on the plane? Check. 

Spencer rested his head against the window beside you and you called over the flight attendant to see if you could get some coffee. 

“You should try and get some sleep,” Spence yawned. 

You tucked a hair behind his ear. “I’ll be fine.” 

Years in the BAU may have trained him to sleep on flights, but you didn’t want to risk what you would see, especially in a space with all of these people. They could all see you. They could watch your every jolt, hear your every whimper and gasping cry. 

They would think you’re crazy. 

Spencer’s hand rested on your knee until his fingers slipped away and his breathing steadied. You watched him for a moment- eyelashes fluttering, lips slightly parted, and jaw relaxed. His peacefulness surprised you. How long had he been on edge for your sake? The past few months, Spencer didn’t sleep until he was sure you’d fallen asleep first. He woke up in the middle of the night to comfort you from your nightmares, even if he had his own. 

How could you not have seen it before, the toll being with you had taken on him? 

“Here’s that coffee for you,” the flight attendant smiled. 

You downed it quickly, the liquid burning down your throat. It was almost comforting. Familiar. 

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” She asked. “I can get you a drink menu, if you’d like?” 

“Actually, that’d be-” It would be so easy. You could slip back into the relief you once knew. That wonderful numbness… 

Spencer’s fingers twitched against your leg, his touch sending sparks of comfort, as well as guilt, up your spine. You looked at him again, a sleepy, crooked smile on his lips, and reminded yourself why you stopped. 

You turned back to the flight attendant. “No thank you.” 

She nodded and took her cart down the aisle. 

The files in your lap gave you plenty to think about. With them, you could push the creeping craving to the back of your mind. As if pretending it wasn’t there would help you forget about it. 

“Fog everywhere…” Spencer mumbled.

“What’s that?” You asked, eyes still on the case in your hand. 

 “Up the river… rolls defiled…” 

Switching your attention, you couldn’t help but laugh. The sight alone helped to lighten your mood.  Spencer was still sound asleep, but his lips moved slightly, breathing out words that you could barely hear. Slowly, you lifted his hand up to your lips and held it there for a moment, admiring your sleeping boyfriend’s beautiful serenity. 

Only Spencer- your Spencer- would recite Dickens in his sleep. 

-

“That sounds great,” Aaron smiled. You sounded genuinely excited, which made him a little less nervous about you being in a different country with everything going on. “Don’t forget to call in a few days or I’ll call Reid to see how you’re doing.” 

“Don’t you dare,” you laughed. 

He switched the phone to his other ear and continued filling out the paperwork he’d been working on. “Just have fun, okay? You deserve some time off and so does he.” 

A scuffle on the other end followed by Reid’s guiding voice interrupted you. “Hey, I have to go. I promise I’ll call, okay? I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he said. “Bye.” 

Aaron hung up the phone and tried to put his worries to rest, at least for now. This trip was a good thing. You could clear your head for a while and Reid could spend more time with you. 

One of the hardest things about their job was that they couldn’t be there for you through your recovery. The constant back and forth, having you stay with Haley because they were worried about you sleepwalking in the apartment alone, not being able to make sure whether or not you had been able to move on was hard on both of the men in your life. 

“Did they get in okay?” Dave asked, never failing to appear in his doorway at the moments he needed him. 

Aaron nodded. “They should be on their way to the hotel now.” 

“Oh to be young and in love,” Dave mused, chuckling. “They’ve been together for how long now?”

“Almost a year.” 

He took a seat across from Aaron’s desk with a smirk. “It has to be kind of weird right? I mean… It's Reid.” 

Hotch shook his head. “I try not to think about it most of the time.” 

Both laughed, but there was something about the way Aaron kept glancing at the phone or trying to distract himself by filling out another form. 

“Alright,” Dave said. “What is it?” 

Aaron glanced up at him, frowning. 

“Is it about Reid’s outburst on the plane?” He asked. “I can’t blame the poor kid. How they’re handling all of this…” He blew out a breath. 

Aaron set down his pen and ran a hand down his face. “That’s the thing,” he sighed. “They aren’t.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Reid was right. Y/N is pretending everything is fine. She doesn’t want to interrupt our lives so she’s just forcing herself to suffer alone,” Aaron leaned back in his chair. “And, while I think Reid is trying his best, he’s so afraid of losing her that he won’t push her.” 

Dave nodded. “I guess he isn’t really the ‘tough love’ type, huh?” He crossed his arms and watched his old friend carefully. “How do you know she isn’t getting better? It’s been a couple of months. Maybe she’s coming to terms with it on her own.” 

“Because I know my sister,” Aaron said firmly. “I was there the first time. I know what her reassuring smiles really hide. She’s burying herself in work, she’s closing herself off to everyone who cares about her, and sooner or later, she is going to spiral and she’s going to try and do it alone.” 

“I wonder where she picked that up from,” Dave pointed out. 

Aaron’s face darkened, his restlessness telling on him. “Y/N killed Sarah Cunningham. She shot her point blank in the chest.”

“Mrs. Cunningham was going to get as many of us to inhale Strychnine as she could,” Dave reasoned. “It was self defense.” 

“Y/N has been called a killer since she was fifteen.” Aaron’s eyes flicked over to the photograph on his desk of the two of you at your graduation. “Now she believes she is one. And to her… that makes her just like her mother.” 

The thing that killed him the most is that he couldn’t just wrap you up and make you hot chocolate every time you had a nightmare like he did when you were young. He couldn’t convince you things would be okay simply because he was your big brother and he was in the FBI so he must know. When you were just fifteen and scared and he was the only one there for you. 

You changed when you left for school. You didn’t ask for help anymore. You learned not to trust and you learned that being vulnerable with someone made you a target. 

Now, Aaron feared that, in your attempts to protect the ones around you, you would tear yourself apart. 

-

As much as you wanted to sit and enjoy the view from the hotel window, you could feel yourself starting to drift. 

“I told you you should have slept on the plane,” Spencer teased, looking over yet another brochure. 

“I’ll just have another coffee,” you shrugged. You cursed the yawn that escaped your mouth. 

Spencer put his things aside and climbed up to the top of the bed. He patted the spot beside him. 

“Spence, I told you, I’m fine.”

“And I am choosing to ignore you,” he said and adjusted the pillows. “Come on, I’m tired too.”

“This isn’t going to help with jetlag-”

“Do you want to cuddle with me or not?” His attempt at sounding firm made even him laugh. You exhaled and slid your suitcase under the desk before jumping into bed beside him. You both kicked off your shoes and you started giggling. 

“Don’t you think those are a little… I don’t know, on the nose?” You snickered. 

He followed your gaze down to his socks. The mismatched pair included images of a tiny Big Ben on one foot and a bunch of flying T.A.R.D.I.S’s on the other. 

He pouted. “I think they’re fun.” 

“I’m sorry, you’re right, they are very fun,” you kissed his pouting lips, turning it into a smirk. 

His fingers splayed over your cheek, urging you closer. Your hands went to his long, mousy hair and your legs wrapped around his waist as he rolled on top of you. 

From his fingers tracing your skin to your lips on his neck, you let everything else fall into the sound of sighs. Hovering above yours, his eyes embraced every fear, every remorse, every desire to hide away. 

And when you fell asleep in his arms, you didn’t dream. 

-

All around you, people sat, creating a sun of studying and researching and just reading for fun. The environment invited you to escape into a world that wasn’t your own. 

And that’s exactly what you did.

Each page pulled you further out of your mind and into the words. You’d almost forgotten the power of a good book, even in the nights snuggled next to Spencer as he read, you were always worried about seeming better, acting like you were better, pretending for his sake. Here, in this massive, beautiful library amongst scholars and authors and people who had no idea who you were, you transported back to the nights almost a year ago when you could just be you. 

By the end of the book, your eyes drooped and your chin slipped from your palm, giving you an awakening jolt. Taking a look around, you realized that most of the people you’d been sitting with had either been replaced or left empty seats around you. Then you looked at the time. 

Five hours?

You snapped the book shut with a satisfied sigh and left your seat to go find Spencer. Second largest library in the world, so how hard could it be? 

It was your idea to split up in the first place, since he would be able to move through volumes much faster than you, you didn’t want to make him feel obligated to slow down. However, when you found the familiar head of chin length brown hair hidden behind a stack of books the length of your arm, your jaw dropped. 

“Don’t tell me you got through all of those,” you exclaimed. 

Spencer’s head perked up from the book he was buried in. He pointed to a second stack beside his chair. “And those.” 

You groaned with jealousy and plopped down beside him. “I’m starving, do you want to go grab something to eat?” 

His eyes widened and he checked his watch. “Oh god, we’re going to be late.” He frantically started carrying his books to the return cart. 

You tilted your head. “Late for what?” 

“Dinner.” He grabbed your hand and- to your surprise, started running. 

“Spencer!” You gasped, hurrying to catch up with him and his lanky legs. People turned to watch you with disapproving glares, but he kept running even after you got out of the library. “Where are we going?”

“The Ivy.” 

You stopped dead. “You got us reservations at The Ivy?” 

Spence tugged on your arm. “Yes, and we are going to be late if we don’t hurry.” 

So there you were, sprinting through the streets of London, hands locked together and heads thrown back with laughter. 

It almost didn’t feel real. With wind racing through your hair and Spencer’s thumb lovingly rubbing the back of your hand and the world blurred around you, there was a lightness in your heart you hadn’t felt in months. 

Even the shroud of gray clouds overhead seemed to sigh with relief. The rain startled softly, then matched your racing pace. Through the downpour, Spence looked back at you, hazel eyes bright with a joy that you could get drunk on. 

“This is perfect!” You cried over the sound of the rain. 

“What?” 

Your laugh rang like a sweet bell under the chorus of water hitting pavement. “I said this is perfect!” 

Spence stopped suddenly and you collided into him. His arms locked around you and he lifted you off of your feet. 

“Spence!” You squealed, interrupted by his lips pressing against yours. He held you there, feet dangling and lips locked until you both had to catch your breath. 

His grin lit up his face. “Okay, let’s go.” 

And you took off again. 

By the time you reached the restaurant, your clothes were completely soaked through and your legs burned from sprinting God knows how many blocks. The host’s eyes widened at the sight of you. 

“Can I… help you?” She asked. 

“Um- yes- uh-” Spence stammered between gasps. “Reservation for Reid.”

She must have checked her list at least three times to make sure it was right. 

“Right this way Dr. and Mrs. Reid.”

Your heart jumped into your throat. Spencer held up a hand. 

“Actually,” he said, “she’s Dr. as well.” 

Your eyes snapped to his face, red rushing to your cheeks. Maybe he didn’t realize the importance of his correction- or rather, what he chose not to correct. When he turned back to you, you were beaming. 

“Come on,” he smiled, taking your hand once more. You followed him with the sound of the name echoing in your heart.

-

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt;  hereforsmutbcicantgetenough;  violetbossler;  hyper-half-blood;  i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48;  @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02

[spentfromspence]

Language Barrier

Before you read, please know I did VERY little research on the language Scottish Gaelic, so if anything is wrong please forgive me. Anyway, short drabble, mostly diallage, 514 words. Enjoy 💖

Hotch watched as Spencer walked into the office, he began to approach Reid and see if he got any new info from the witness he talked to.

“Reid, anything new?” Spencer set his messenger bag down on a chair and met eyes briefly with Hotch. “No, there's nothing new.” Spencer’s lips thinned, making that face he always does. Hotch raised an eyebrow, he was out for about an hour, how did he not get anything new? “Why not?” Hotch questioned the younger man, Spencer was quick to respond. “Language Barrier.” Spencer shrugged. Hotch was used to his short, blunt, point blank answers, oftentimes Spencer didn’t see any reason to say more unless someone asked him to explain in depth or he’s splurging out statistics. “How could there be a language barrier? I thought you could speak hundreds of languages fluently.” Hotch was even more confused now, Spencer once mentioned how he could speak many languages, fluently even. “Well, actually, I know 1081 languages fluently, and there's over 7000 in the world. Although I do also know a bit of 5997 different languages, just not as fluent. I’m working on it.” Spencer says it so casually, as if everyone can do this and he’s not a literal genius. Hotch takes a moment to take everything in, it’s hard to be shocked by the agent anymore, but this was definitely shocking. He decided he’d ask Spencer more about it later, right now he needed more information on the case, and he needed to know why Spencer didn’t get any new info. “Well…” He looked at the floor as he rubbed his temple, sighing. “Do you know what language they spoke at least?” Hotch looked up to Spencer digging through his messenger bag, pulling out a Hall, a type of cough medicine. He unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth, swishing it around with his tongue for a moment. “She spoke Scottish Gaelic. It was shocking to hear because only approximately 87,000 people speak it, and the majority of those people live in Scotland. I know it may be shocking to learn that I don’t know the language considering it’s been spoken for 1500 years, I just haven’t gotten around to it. I didn’t think I’d meet anyone who spoke it, guess I should always be prepared. I suppose I’ll have to learn it after this case is over.” Spencer rambled and rambled, speaking hastily but not tripping over his words. He only ever paused shortly to swirl the cough drop in his mouth. Hotch didn’t have a response, he just stared at Spencer. In both amazement and out of being weirded out, he seemed to do this often when it came to Spencer's rambles. “I…I suppose you will have to learn it after this case…” He stared at Spencer another second longer, trying to comprehend how Spencer does it, retaining so much information at once, never forgetting a single bit of it. “You amaze me Reid.” And with that he walked off, hoping to find the coffee machine freshly filled in the staff room.

[underworld-of-imagines]

A Christmas Nightmare - Spencer Reid

Sorry, I had forgotten about this one so it ended up going out on Christmas day instead of a few days earlier. But here's some comfort for you

Summary: Neurodivergent!Reader struggles with the Christmas crowds and calls a good friend in her panic.

Warnings: Slight panic attack/meltdown

Christmas was a time of joy and celebration, a time for friends and family to join together and celebrate what was originally, the birth of Jesus. Nowadays, it was more of a capitalistic holiday, of large spending for gifts and large amounts of food. For those non-religious folks, it was more about friends and family spending time together, celebrating connections. Some still go to church, gathering for the early service to listen to the words from the priest and the choir sing. But most chose the more capitalistic route. 

Of course, with the capitalisation of the Christmas holiday came along a lot more than just gifts and decorations. Sinter Klaas already existed, but the birth of the idea of Saint Nicholas came along, and not long after formed into Santa Claus. And then along came songs and movies, TV shows, books, anything the entertainment and retail corporations could come up with. It got so popular that almost every house growing up was decked with decorations and lights that could cut through the snow. Every shopping centre had a ‘Photo with Santa’ opportunity, and every store donned decorations to celebrate the festivities. Music would play over the speakers, drowned out by the loud chatter of the crowds that were out to do their shopping. 

Normally, you’d do your absolute best to avoid having to go into the crowded malls. Stocking up early and getting perishables from the corner store has been your go-to tactic since you went to college. 

But a series of unlikely events required you to brave the crowds of the shopping mall for one Saturday afternoon. Albeit, you would have preferred during the weekdays, but the team had been on a case all week, only arriving back today. And your work Christmas party (courtesy of Garcia’s convincing) was meant to be tomorrow. It was a very last minute thing, as you were gathering in the conference room to brief the case, Garcia was convincing Rossi to host the work Christmas party - that was 4 days ago. Rossi, with a bit of pushing from Hotch had agreed, and the plan was set into motion. 

Garcia was organising the decorations and catering, which included multiple trips to the bottle shop to make sure everyone had their preferred drinks. And a theme for the night had been decided ‘A Touch of Festivity’. What that meant, you had no idea, but you were sure you could pull something together from what you owned. 

The hardest part though? Was buying gifts for everyone. When you agreed to attend the night, you were under the impression that it was going to be a secret santa. But much to Garcia’s arguments that nobody aside from JJ, herself and Hotch, had a lot to buy in terms of presents. Especially since everyone had already purchased presents for their families weeks ago and already sent them off. 

That led you to where you are currently, standing in the middle of a very crowded shopping centre, being pushed and pulled by the crowd. It was all very overwhelming, many people were brushing past you, others pushing you without even noticing you were there. You looked like a ragdoll in the midst of the crowd. 

The overstimulation set in very quickly, people’s arms brushing your body, the stifling air, the bright lights from all of the stores. Christmas music was playing loudly in the background, and you could hear the noises of the mechanical displays from a nearby shop. Chatter from the crowd was overbearing, and the occasional ‘ho ho ho’ from the Santa display further down the corridor rang in your ears. It was barely ten minutes in and you already felt like you were going to explode from all of the overload on your senses. 

But, you had to at least attempt to get everyone’s gifts - for yourself. You knew that you could very easily go down to the bookstore and pick out a book for Reid. JJ and Garcia were easy with the candle store down the road. Morgan you could just buy a new cologne for, and try to convince him that women would like it better than his. Rossi was easy, he always wanted you to grab something from the deli that was on the corner of your block (he insisted they were the best). Hotch was a bit more difficult, but you knew that the candle store also sold various accessories, including ties. And Emily loved shoes, bags, belts, anything she could accessorise with - and you knew all of her sizes. 

However, you made a promise to yourself to at least try going to the shopping mall. As one of your New Year's resolutions, you had to try something you found difficult or hard at least once a month. And you hadn’t done one for December yet. ‘You can overcome this, you’ve got this’ you kept trying to convince yourself. 

But the more time that passed, the denser the crowd seemed to get, to the point that it was suffocating. Senses kicked into overdrive as you searched frantically for the exit, knowing you had mere minutes before the meltdown would begin. No relief came though, as the crowd was too tall for you, and too thick for you to see through clearly. 

In a last minute effort, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your contacts. Normally, you would hesitate to contact the person in mind, but today you needed to hear his voice. Pressing the call button, you held the phone to your ear, anxiously chewing on your nails whilst the call connected.

“Hello?” You let out a sigh of relief as his voice rang clear through the phone. “Hello? Is this Y/N?” His voice was thick, like he had just woken up to answer the call. Shuffling could be heard over the line, and a thump as he probably fell over a pile of books. “Y/N? Are you okay?” The words were stuck at the back of your throat, your voice destined to fail you when you really needed it. 

“Help,” you managed to barely choke out. The crowd was impossibly close, and felt like they were closing in even more. 

“Where are you?” His asked, his voice urgent as he tried to figure out your location.

“T-the mall, outside of the Bath and B-body Works.” You stumbled over your words, trying to focus on the sound of his voice instead of your overloaded senses.

“Okay, I know where you are. I’m on my way, but can you do something for me?” You nodded, not realising that he couldn’t see you. “I want you to go down towards the foodcourt, turn left when you see the Nordstrom okay? There’s an exit down that corridor, there’s no bus or taxi rank there, so it should be pretty quiet.” Turning in the direction that Spencer mentioned, you tried to memorise the instructions. “I’m going to hang up so I can drive. Just get to that exit and wait for me.” A harsh tone beeped, signalling the end of the call. 

Pocketing your phone, you focused on trying to spot a sign for Nordstrom, which was difficult through the density of the crowd. After a minute of searching though, you finally found a sign, more of a map-directory kind of sign pointing towards Nordstrom. To your left, was a corridor with bathrooms and an exit at the end. Surely this is what Spencer meant, he hadn’t been entirely clear about the instructions and you were in too much of a panic to keep searching for a different sign. 

Walking down the corridor, you noticed the sweat that seemed to break out on your brow, a tell-tale sign that you were nearing a meltdown. Someone exited the bathroom, the bang of the door closing making you panic more. They almost touched you as they hurried past, back towards the mall, and would have if you hadn’t pressed yourself against the wall. The corridor was quite narrow, and seemed to only narrow further down towards the door. Though you couldn’t tell if that was because of your panic or if it actually did narrow. But it was quieter, the lack of speakers bringing some slight relief to your senses. 

Outside was a small loading area, not big enough for actual trucks to fit into, but its proximity to the parking lot suggested it was more for cars than actual delivery trucks. Small and quieter than the bustle near the entrance, it was almost perfect. Almost being the key word in that sentence, if it hadn't been for the screaming children and annoyed mother right next to the door. 

You tried to keep calm, picking a spot on a bench that was several feet away, but you could still hear everything, the cars, the kids, the exasperated annoyance from the mother. Tapping your feet in a certain rhythm usually helped to distract you, but today it wasn’t enough, so you tried repeating it with your fingers, counting the beats, anything. It was all in vain though, as nothing drowned out the noise. 

A sports car pulled up, the revving sending you more into overload as a young woman proudly got out. You started to hit your thighs, trying to ignore the kid asking his mom what was wrong with you. Before you retorted something that surely would have made him cry, his mother had whisked him further away. Silently, you thank her for her awareness - though it was probably more out of fear as you definitely weren’t acting like a ‘normal’ person. 

That was a problem for another day, today you were too overwhelmed to approach someone about the stigma surrounding autism and the spectrum in society. But her moving further away also meant the screaming was quieter, more bearable. You just didn’t want to think of what she had texted the person picking her up about you and why she changed location. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have long to think about that because moments later a familiar car pulled down the driveway. It slowed to a stop right in front of you before a familiar man stepped out of the driver side door, almost doubling in length. 

“Y/N,” he breathed out, kneeling in front of you. “Are you okay?” You nodded shortly, avoiding eye contact whilst trying to calm your senses. “Try that trick I taught you, focus on different things, okay?” He had noticed that you were still in a state of panic, and your impending meltdown. And he wanted to try to prevent it, reminding you of the focusing tactic he had taught you. Glancing at him, you nodded, still avoiding eye contact as you took in notes of his appearance. 

The clothes he wore were the same as yesterday’s, probably having fallen asleep in them sometime early in the morning. But he had loosened his tie, to the point it could fall off if you tugged it slightly. As usual though, his socks were unmatched and showed off his slightly dirty converse that he always wore. A wind rushed through, and you picked up on the familiar scent, a mixture of books and vanilla . His hair looked clean and fluffy, like it’d be nice to run your hands through. The two of you sat in silence for a moment as you hesitated about bringing your hands up to touch his hair. 

“Can I hug you?” He questioned once you had visibly calmed down a bit. You were no longer hitting your thigh, and the foot tapping had slowed to almost a complete stop. A hug right now would feel nice, comforting and encasing. 

“Okay,” you whispered gently. He was careful about his approach, allowing you to stand up before wrapping his arms around you, in a safe and secure embrace. It felt comfortable, but still empty. “Tighter,” you whimpered, relishing in the comfort that comes from his arms wrapping tighter around your body. 

“I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

—--

Hours later, you were curled up on his rather comfortable couch, your legs covered by a weighted blanket. Old Doctor Who reruns were playing on the TV, but you didn’t have the energy to pay attention to it. At first you had just wanted to sleep the exhaustion away, but Spencer convinced you to go back to his place with him. You questioned it, of course, and he had convinced you by saying that he’d order your favourite comfort food, and make some calming tea that Garcia had gifted him. And the idea of spending more time with someone who was your comfort place didn’t sound like such a bad idea. 

“Here, I didn’t know how much you wanted so I just put a bit of each onto your plate.” Spencer explained, handing you the plate of Indian food from your favourite place. “And I’ll put your tea here,” he said, placing it down on the coffee table in front of you. 

“Thank you.” Your voice came out as a whisper, afraid it’d break if you talked any louder. 

“It was the crowds wasn’t it?” You glanced at him, confused. “I noticed that when Garcia mentioned a Christmas party, and gift-giving, that you panicked. I assumed that it was because you hadn’t planned for any of that, or had already made plans. But when you called me earlier today I realised it’s probably because of how busy the malls are this time of year. I remembered that you really don’t like crowds, and formed the hypothesis that you avoid malls this time of year because of the crowds.” Your stomach filled with butterflies as he recalled various things about your behaviour, things that you hadn’t even picked up on. 

He kept rambling on, mentioning other things about your behaviour and his hypothesis. But you had already zoned out, thinking more about how captivating he could be when he talked. Ironic, right? Since you had zoned out. 

“So?” He questioned.

“So?” 

“My hypothesis. Is it correct?” He looked at you longingly, awaiting your answer to his rambling.

“Yeah, yeah I guess so.” You giggled lightly, he could be such a genius and still so oblivious sometimes. Though, as the team would argue, so could you. And in a blissful ignorance you both sat for the rest of the night, unaware of the other’s feelings.

[cowboy1ikereid]

pov - spencer reid is your boyfriend and this is your camera roll (he hates modern technology but he’ll always pose for you)

[penelopegarciaismygf]

Him with kids 🥹

[gillslyds]

I just want to kiss his forehead, he's so adorable :3

[incognit0slut]

He’s just a 43 year old baby :(

[reidsstargirl]

He's so cute I wanna eat him

[marvelwitchergilmore]

First Kick

Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> Both you and Aaron have been in a secret relationship for three years, except when you go into labour, the rest of the team can't help but speculate.

Disclaimer: Just pure fluff. Small descriptions of labour. BAU being a family. Jack and Haley don't exist in this fic. Not Proof Read.

You would have thought working with a bunch of FBI profilers, they would have figured out the truth by now. 

But they hadn’t. 

Instead, both yourself and Aaron had lived in wedded bliss for the last three years and were now expecting your first child. 

Of course, that couldn’t be hidden from the team. The constant morning sickness. The aversions to certain smells. The swollen ankles, the overwhelming emotions and the growing belly. 

Which, as you were sitting at the dim light of your desk filling in the last of the paperwork for your latest case, began to move. 

The others had stepped out for a while, grabbing some food. They had invited you except the thought of walking a block and a half already made you want to fall asleep. So, kissing the top of your head, Morgan took your order and promised to bring you back extra guac. 

The hum from the headphones you placed around your belly filled the small silence, a tune of Motzart rather than a constant drum of a nearby printer. 

However, from under the headphones, you felt a movement. 

It wasn’t big. Barely noticeable. But it was there. 

Or was it? 

Maybe it was nothing. 

Except, twenty seconds later, you knew for certain. 

Pulling the headphones from you, you stood up immediately and rushed towards Hotch’s office. 

And you continued with your normal routine. Knocking on his door, calling his name and stepping inside. 

“Is everything okay?”

Trying not to raise any alarm, you closed his office door behind you before shutting the blinds. 

“Is everything okay?”

Aaron scanned your face. “Honey?”

Within seconds he was by your side. “What is it?”

But then you smiled. And he became confused. 

“What-”

“Feel.”

Taking his hand, you guided it to cover part of your growing belly. “What am I-”

Kick.

You watched every emotion possible pass over Aaron’s face as he took in the feeling of your child kicking his palm. 

“Is that-”

Kick.

Then he laughed. 

Aaron Hotchner laughed. 

It wasn’t often that you got to see this side of your husband when at work. So it was a nice surprise when you did. 

Within seconds, he had stepped a little closer and had carefully removed his hand from the top of your stomach and slipped it under the hem of your shirt, allowing his warm palm to rest against your skin. 

Then your baby kicked harder. 

You both laughed that time. 

“Hey, ow.” You said, looking at your stomach. 

Aaron chuckled lightly before resting his forehead against yours as his other hand rested against your face, brushing the fallen hair from your face and cupping your cheek. 

“She’s moving.” 

You smiled. “You’re still convinced it’s a girl?”

“Of course I am. I’m a profiler. I should know.” 

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. “I’m a profiler, too, you know.”

“I know.”

“And it’s mother.”

“And you disagree?” He asked, still with a light smile gracing his lips. 

You hummed. “I’m uncertain.”

“Well, how about I give you my profile and see how you feel?”

You laughed. “It really is second nature to you.”

Aaron hummed before moving his hand, still under your shirt, to the top of your belly. 

“You’re carrying high, for one.” His thumb traced back and forth on your stomach. “You’ve suffered with morning sickness before twelve weeks, your main craving so far has been fruit. You sleep on your right side.”

“I always sleep on my right side.”

Aaron smiled. “And your skin,” He stroked his thumb against your cheekbone. “It’s soft.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Except, they are just old wives tales.”

“I’d like to think there is still some justice in them. Are you sure you want to wait until they’re born?”

“Yes.”

“And you couldn’t be persuaded?”

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?” Aaron smirked a little before leaning in and kissing you. 

Pulling his hand from your stomach, he brought it up to the other side of your face and it wasn’t long before he felt your body melt into his. 

“The others are going to be back soon.”

Aaron groaned a little but not before kissing you a last few times before pulling away. 

“You’d think they would have figured it out by now.” 

You nodded. “But it is kinda fun. And I can’t wait until they see our baby. I have a feeling they’ll look like you.”

“I should hope so.”

You laughed. “You know what I mean. And, if it is a girl, don’t they usually look like they’re dad?”

“Are you saying you agree with my profile?”

You hummed. “Maybe. Just a little. You are the Unit Chief of the BAU, so I suppose you have some credibility.”

“Even if they’re just old wives tales?” He asked, raising his eyebrow a little. 

You nodded, with a slight smile. “Even if they’re just old wives tales.”

You finally left his office just before the team got back, but not before stealing a few more kisses. 

Over the following months, the team grew more protective of you. With your pregnancy coming to an end, and still not knowing who the father was, they began to step up. 

It was sweet to watch. 

Penelope had planned your baby shower with JJ’s help. Reid had read up on everything a doctor and midwife knew about giving birth, just in case you went into early labour. Emily had helped you pack your spare hospital bag for the office in case you were rushed into labour whilst at the office or away on a case, being too far from home to drive to get your hospital bag. 

And when Hotch couldn’t be by your side, he made sure either Rossi and Morgan were there to help you. 

“You okay there, Momma?”

You looked to Morgan who had appeared from around the corner. You were leaning against the counter, your hand holding onto the bottom of your belly. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” You breathed out. “Just a little- ow. Okay. Hey-”

“Whoa, hey, okay, take it easy.”

Morgan placed his coffee mug down, coming right back to your side and holding your hand. “What do you need?”

Your grip tightened around his hand. “Ow. Hospital.”

“Okay, okay. Where’s your hospital bag?”

“By my desk. Emily-” You grunted in pain. “Emily knows.”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay. Emily!”

Turning around, it took Emily less than ten seconds to realise what was going on. 

“Okay, Garcia. Hey! Penelope, call Hotch. Let him know what’s going on.”

“Why, what’s-O…oh my god. Okay, Okay. Calling him now.”

By the time Morgan got you to the parking lot, Hotch was pulling in. 

“Get in, I can drive her straight there.”

“Have you got everything you need?”

You nodded. 

“Call us if you need anything?” Emily asked, shutting your door. 

You could only hum, holding onto Emily’s hand. 

She leaned in for a moment, kissing your cheek. 

“See you when you get back, Momma.”

Hotch pulled away a few moments later, rushing you directly to the hospital. 

And for the next twenty hours, Hotch stayed by your side. And the rest of the team started to think. 

“I mean, think about it. When she got braxton hicks. Who was the first one at her side?”

“Hotch.” Penelope answered. 

“Yeah, and the way he looked. I don’t know about you but I have never seen Hotch that nervous.”

“That is true.” Rossi agreed. 

“But they can’t be…together, can they?” JJ asked. “You all had it sussed about me and Will. They couldn’t go this long and not have us at least find out.”

“Maybe they didn’t want us to.”

“Or maybe they’re not together at all.”

“When have you ever known either of them to be that close with each other as they are with us? Rossi, have you ever seen the inside of Hotch’s house?”

“Not for a while, no. Why, have you ever seen hers?”

Emily shook her head. 

“Penelope, can you find out anything?” Morgan asked, turning to his best girl. 

“I can but it would completely wreck my moral standing.”

“You’ve never run a background check on us?” JJ asked. 

“No! That would be an invasion of your privacy. And theirs! If they are a..them, I suppose. Or maybe not. Maybe she is just a single mother and Hotch has decided to help her. He was the first to find out.”

“See, another thing!” Emily pointed out. 

“But Hotch is the first to know everything about us. He’s the main person we have to tell when it comes to personal things that could affect our work.” Morgan explained. 

“But why not come to one of us?” Rossi asked. “JJ, what do you think? Out of us, who would you have come to?”

JJ thought for a moment. “Out of you boys? Probably…Hotch.”

“Really?” Rossi asked. 

“Why not me?” Morgan asked. 

“Or me?” Reid finished. 

JJ smiled. “You know I love you all equally, but out of Three Divorces, Pretty Boy and Chocolate Thunder, I’d want to tell someone I know to be calm. That could remain level headed.”

“And we’re not level headed?” Morgan asked, causing JJ to look up above her shoulder. 

“What did you do when I told you I was pregnant?”

Morgan paused for a second. “You may have a point.”

“Either way, we can’t know for certain that they’re having a baby together.” Reid pointed out. 

“Well, she’s married. Or engaged, at least.”

They all turned to Emily. 

“How do you know that?”

“Her wedding finger. Last time she came back from AL she had a tan line. It was faint, but it was there.”

“Maybe he ran off? They got pregnant but he didn’t want to be in the picture?”

Penelope scoffed. “What a jerk.”

“I don’t think they’d appreciate us speculating like this.”

“JJ’s right. Maybe they’re just friends and Hotch is helping her out. Garcia, have you heard from them yet?”

“Not yet, Sir.”

Meanwhile, at the hospital, the midwife was instructing Aaron to get behind you, holding you up and holding your hands and you continued to push. 

“I don’t think I can do it.”

“Yes, you can. Yes, you can. Come on, honey. I know you can.”

“Can’t you do it for me?”

Aaron chuckled. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“Just a couple more pushes, Mrs Hotchner.”

Another wave of contractions hit and you continued to push for another fifteen minutes before finally everyone in the room heard the cries of your baby. 

“You did it, honey. I’m so proud of you. You did it.”

“Is she okay? What-Where is she?”

Aaron smiled, tears in his eyes, pushing the hair out of your own. “She’s-She’s okay. Look, the midwife is just wrapping them up.”

A few moments later, the midwife handed you your baby. 

Two days later they discharged you from the hospital and the first stop made was at the office considering the last of your things had been left there when you went into labour. 

And it also meant the team could finally greet your baby. 

“Ooh, ooh, they’re here. They’re here.”

Penelope was the first to spot you and Hotch standing in his office and it wasn’t long before they were all standing outside. 

However, as the congratulations and praise was made, Penelope’s voice dropped an octave after she got a clear look of the baby. 

“Oh my god.”

“What is it, Garcia?”

“Ohh, ohh, ohh my goodness.”

But you could only smile. 

“You!” Penelope pointed before turning to look at Hotch. “And you! Oh my god! You are!”

You looked behind you, finding your husband standing closer to you than when the team had first walked inside. 

“Are what? Baby girl, what’s-”

And then it clicked. 

With all of them. 

And for a moment they were all stunned into complete silence. 

“Aaron…why didn’t you…”

“Tell you?” Hotch asked, finishing Rossi’s question.

“Truthfully, we kinda maybe wanted to see how long it would take you all to figure out.” You explained. 

“But…how?!” JJ asked. 

You just shrugged. 

“Hints were there if you looked for them.” Aaron said. 

“Hints were- Oh, so, now he tells us. How long?”

“Four years.” You both answered. 

“Four years?!” They all half shouted, quickly remembering there was an infant present. 

“Wait.” Penelope said, holding up her hands. “Oh my god, it’s all coming together. This must be how Sherlock Holmes feels when he cracks a case.”

Both yourself and Aaron smiled before looking down at the sleeping baby in your arms. 

“The weekends away, the lunch orders, the arrive at work together. Oh my god! The touching.” Penelope hit Emily and Derek’s arm. 

“Ow!” They both called. 

“How could you two not have noticed this?!”

“You didn’t notice either!” Emily replied, rubbing her arm. 

“Baby girl, they kept this from us for four years. Why aren’t you hitting them?”

“Because,” Penelope explained. “She had just had a beautiful baby girl. And Hotch is my boss.”

“Can you ever find a way to forgive us?”

They all looked at each other before seemingly coming to the same conclusion. “Fine. But, only if you tell us how it happened and when. And, if you have a wedding re-do so that we all get to attend.”

Both you and Aaron looked at each other. 

“That could work.”

“Great! Now, let me see this beautiful baby girl.” Penelope said, her voice once again chipper, as she came to your side. 

“My goodness, she’s beautiful. Hotch, she looks just like you.”

Aaron smiled at the compliment, but shook his head. “No, that’s all her mom.”

“Oh-ho,” Rossi laughed a little. “She is going to be running rings around us all soon enough.”

Four weeks later, each member of the team turned up together on different days, listening to the story of your relationship. First were the girls and Reid before JJ showed up with Morgan and Rossi. JJ was there to drop some items off that both yourself and Hotch would find useful with the nursery but she didn’t mind hearing the story a second time. 

Eight weeks after you had given birth, your doorbell rang and just as Aaron opened up the front door, Penelope and Rossi walked inside carrying boxes of items before directing the rest of the team through your home into the garden. 

“Dave, what’s going on?”

“You, my dear friend, are getting married.”

“We’re already married.” You said with a small laugh, walking to stand beside your husband. 

Dave nodded. “That you are, but today, you are both getting remarried. You did promise us.”

“We did promise them.” Aaron said, turning to look at you. 

“We did, didn’t we?”

Dave smiled. “So, Uncle Reid is going to be looking after this little one.”

You carefully handed your baby girl to Spencer as Dave continued to explain. 

“Whilst the girls help you get ready and I enlist your help,” Rossi turned to look at Hotch. “To help finish the set up.”

Penelope appeared from down the hallway. “Come on, Emily is finishing setting everything up.”

“I guess I’ll see you at the wedding?”

“I’ll be the one in white.”

Aaron smiled before kissing you quickly as barely a second later Penelope was dragging you upstairs. 

That night was filled with joy, laughter and happiness. Yourself and Aaron shared another set of marriage vows in front of the team. You shared a second first dance, a second first kiss and a first family dance. 

It was a quiet moment on the corner of the dance floor. You were swaying with your baby, softly, in your arms when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a familiar pair of lips kiss your shoulder. 

Turning around you, Aaron held both of you close. Your forehead against his and your eyes closed, his fingers traced patterns against your arms back and forth before down your side and to your hips where he pulled you in a little closer. 

Neither of you knew it until a week later, but Morgan had, with Emily’s help, caught everything on camera. And with help from Penelope, a second wedding video had been made. 

Capturing the full length of your first family dance together.

[reidsdimples]

Feverish

Spencer Reid x Reader

18+ ❤️‍🔥

Spencer can’t keep his hands off of you in his fever induced delirium.

Inspired by a scene from The Tearsmith (on Netflix)

“What happened?” You ask Morgan who’s got Spencer’s arm draped over his shoulder.

Spencer is out of it, delirious, coated in sweat. Yet he grins at you.

“Popped for the flu, probably from those kids earlier this week,” Morgan answers as he puts Spencer in the passenger seat of your car.

“I knew the flu shot was a waste of time,” Spencer muses. “It’s an educated guess at best as for what strain will circulate through the population,” he scoffs and shoves on sunglasses.

“Wonderful,” you groan.

“You’ve already been sick this season, you’re probably fine,” Spencer mumbles and lulls his head back in the seat.

“I think that’s why he said to call you,” Morgan smiles.

“Well, it’s great to see you again. Stay safe,” Morgan hugs you by way of farewell.

Taking care of your sick ex boyfriend on your long anticipated three day weekend was not high on your bucket list. But here you were.

You drop into the car next to him and he’s already fast asleep. Feeling his forehead, you confirm that he’s burning up.

You and Spencer had ended things amicably four weeks ago. Your crazy schedule as a labor and delivery nurse didn’t mesh well with his chaotic FBI job. It didn’t mean you didn’t care for him. Perhaps that made seeing him so sick that much harder.

“Come on,” you help him from the car and into your house.

He stumbles up the front steps but you’re able to hold him up.

“Sorry, dizzy,” he murmurs.

“It’s okay,” you place your hand at the center of his chest, pushing yourself under his arm further to support his tall frame. The heat coming off of him could almost burn you.

You had never been more grateful that you opted for a one floor house. You imagined getting him up a flight of stairs would be impossible.

“Here,” you sit him on the edge of your king sized bed but he just flops onto his side, tucking his face into your pillow. He breaths in deeply, you can hear how congested he is.

You hurry to your medicine cabinet to get him a concoction of fever reducers.

“Take this,” you sit him up.

He barely opens his eyes, just groggily obeys and trusts the pills you’re giving him. He knows you’d never do anything to hurt him.

You wipe the water from his lips gently. He purses his mouth as though to kiss the pad of your thumb longingly.

You slowly undo the buttons of his shirt, you needed to cool him down. He’s drenched in sweat.

“Sit up,” you pull him up with a hand on the back of his neck and push the shirt off of his shoulders. Your eyes trace his body longingly, but only for a moment.

You gently lay him back down and start undoing his converse so he can get more comfortable. He groans at the movements as you tug the shoes off and discard them, adoring his mismatched socks.

You brush his hair from his forehead and prompt him to open his eyes. He does but they’re heavy with fatigue.

“You’re going to be fine Spence, just tell me if you need anything,” you whisper.

You gently caress his cheek, his eyes fluttering closed. You relax your hand in the center of his bare chest, unable to help how drawn to him you are. You missed him. His lean body with the thin sheen of sweat had your heart fluttering. Touching him was too much, too overwhelming. You sigh and stand from the bed.

His arm wraps around your waist and he tugs you weakly back into the bed. You fall half onto him and half next to him.

“Don’t go,” he murmurs and buries his face in your stomach like you’re all he’ll ever need. You run your hands through his long hair and hold him close to comfort him. It doesn’t even bother you that his hair is damp, you just want to help him.

He pulls you more onto him and twists his hands into your shirt. You’re nearly straddling him now, leaning over him as he groans and begs for you to be closer.

“Spence,” you warn.

He nudges his face into your abdomen, between your breasts. He’s so out of it you doubt he’s even aware of his actions. His mouth clamps over your nipple which is hardening through your shirt. This is so wrong, but it feels so fucking good.

Your body reacts to him, your hips grinding down against his. You can’t help it.

Your tank top rides up and his mouth trails sloppily against your now exposed skin, causing you to suck air through your teeth harshly. He’s kind of kissing you, but more seemingly needing to touch you with his mouth. He leaves moist trails of kisses against your stomach. He grapples at your body, he’s needy, he’s panting. He’s whimpering against you.

He’s burning up.

“Shhh, Spence,” you sink down next to him and nestle into the crook of his arm.

You push away your arousal. That was not happening right now.

Besides, clear headed Spencer wouldn’t touch you that way after breaking up.

“Need you,” he moans.

“Not right now baby,” the nickname slips out. It was habit.

His buries his face in the crook of your neck, he’s breathing hard as his hand trails down your body. He digs his nails into the soft skin on your hips and squeezes lovingly. His fingertips move down the plane of your stomach and graze just under the edge of your waistband but he goes no further. You take in the sight of his large hand on your body again, those fingers, the way the muscles and veins move as he does. Your traitorous pussy clenches around absolutely nothing. Ugh.

He begins to kiss the soft spot of your neck and you can’t help but to tilt your head to give him better access. His hand moves up to squeeze your breast, pulling a moan from you. God you needed him so bad. But he was so sick. His desperation for you was driving you mad.

You hear him shudder as a chill washes over him. But he ignores it, moving so his laying on you, kissing your nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt. His eyes are still closed, heavy with sickness. But he slides his strong arms under you to hold you even closer to him as he continues to kiss and sucking at your neck. He nudges your tank top down and pulls your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.

“Ah, Spencer. Baby,” you writhe beneath him, but he’s got you pinned.

He kisses you until he can’t anymore, until his grip on you grows weaker and his mouth lingers on you longer.

He grows tired and rests his head on your chest. He keeps you beneath him, most of his body weight laying between your legs. His head rests on your stomach as he starts to doze off. His warm breath fans against your skin.

You push your hand into his hair to keep him right where he is. He’s absorbing your body heat, his breathing beginning to slow.

A content sigh escapes his chest and he finally falls asleep.

You can still feel the ghosts of his hands and lips, messy and needy on your body. It’s like he was devouring you, like you were the only thing that could save him. He was absolutely out of his mind, acting on instinct and primal need despite being sick. It’s like he couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop himself from touching you.

[piqtescue]

pretty boy✨

[gublerie]

the pookiest pookie to ever pookie !!! ⋆｡°✩

[underworld-of-imagines]

Library Dates - Spencer Reid

Note: Reader is Gender Neutral

Summary: Gender!Neutral Reader and Spencer have a standing date night. But how do you go about it without running out of ideas?

The world was a dark place, a dark and dangerous place. Evil lurked in every dark alleyway, every unlit corner, every small crevice that people wouldn’t even otherwise notice. Your fiancé dedicated his life to fighting some of the evil that plagued the world. But in doing so, he sacrificed so much of his time and life to eradicate the evil. In a way, you also sacrificed a lot for his job, and it wasn’t an easy thing to do by any means.

Time with Spencer was a rarity sometimes, often he’d work late nights, or be away on cases for days on end. His job was never ending, and it took a heavy toll on the both of you. Spencer barely slept, most nights were spent with his face buried in a book, others he slept somewhat fitfully. As much as you tried to help his sleeping, there was only so much you could do to quell the loud thoughts running through his mind. In your relationship date nights were rare, and often planned on the fly as he never knew when a new case would come in.

That being said, you tried to keep a standing date night, every Wednesday night. Of course, one night a week seemed excessive for dates, especially 3 years into a relationship. But sometimes you did the most mundane things, like going grocery shopping or eating ice cream whilst sitting on the kitchen counter. That was how you made it work, by keeping things as simple as you could. Once a month, he’d try to take you on fancier dates - thought it usually ended up being more like once every two months. And when he was on cases, he’d make a point to call you on date night – which usually ending up with something more interesting. Sometimes though, he’d just read you a book until you fell asleep.

Tonight was Wednesday, and luckily for you, Spencer was home from a case, and had even decided to forgo staying late. At first, neither of knew what you wanted to do. It was too cold for ice cream, and you had done the grocery shopping days prior. That was when you noticed that you had nothing to read, you had finished your most recent book that day, and you were itching for another.

Spencer originally came up with the idea, which you eagerly agreed to.

So there you were, heavily bundled up in coats, a takeaway hot chocolate in between your hands. You walked down the snowy sidewalk, your destination just within sight. The library was somewhere Spencer frequented a lot, that and the second-hand bookstore on 5th. But you didn’t go there nearly as often as he did – you couldn’t read nearly as fast as he did. He still loved to take you there though.

There was something romantic about libraries, walking in between the shelves of books that an innumerable amount of people had touched. The silence was comforting, no words needed to be said, no thoughts voiced aloud. Instead it was just you, Spencer, and the books. It was perfect.

“Have you found something?” Spencer appeared beside you, the carpet masking the sound of his footsteps.

“Mhm, I think I’m going to go with these. I liked other works by these authors, I’m hoping that these hold up the same.” You indicated to the two books in your hands. They would be enough to get you through the 2 weeks. Spencer, on the other hand, had a pile of about 30 books. It’d last him roughly the same time, maybe even less if he didn’t have a case. “Do you have enough books?” You joked, it was something you said every time he returned from the library.

“No, but they only let me borrow 30 at a time,” he laughed. It had taken him a while to convince the librarians to let him borrow so many books, but they relented once they had seen how fast he could read. You remembered that day vividly, he had been arguing with the librarians for a while, until eventually, one of them came up with the idea. The idea was that they’d choose their favourite books, and he’d prove that he could read them quickly enough to warrant him borrowing so many. A mere two hours later, he stood before them in a small room, reading off the plots, basic profiles of each character, and the themes behind the stories. Finally, the librarians believed him and allowed the system overrides that would make the over-borrowing possible. That memory still made you laugh every time.

“Dr. Reid, funny seeing you here again. Planning for a busy week? You’ve got less than normal,” the librarian joked as you walked up to the checkout counter. They loved poking a bit of fun at the genius, who knew it was light-hearted joking (you had to explain that to him the first time). He let out a light-hearted chuckle, handing the librarian the stacks of books.

Not much later, you were walking out of the library, carrying multiple bags full of books. Thankfully, you had finished your drinks, and your apartment wasn’t too far from the library. Within 10 minutes, you reached your destination, lugging the books up the stairs to your third-floor apartment.

“Thank you for tonight, Spencer, it was beautiful,” you commented once you had settled down. You were sitting on the couch across from the fireplace, a blanket pulled over your legs. Spencer sat next to you, equally bundled up under the shared blanket.

“Of course darling, I’m glad you had fun.” He smiled, leaning over to place a small peck on your lips before curling further next to you.

Sometimes your relationship was hard, but times like this made everything seem perfect.

-----

A/N

I wrote this one on a whim, this is my first posted draft in a while. But today I went to the library, and it just made me think of Spencer.

[briefkittenearthquake]

The way I would let this man break my back like a glow stick

[0stargirl0]

Guys his necklace is rumple buttercup