#morgan deserves to stand on her own two feet

[jetcorax]

still thinking about TotE and how much i hate the way filoni plays it fast and loose with canon for no reason other than to forcefully carve out space for his ocs and/or his faves from canon and legends without any regard to their intended roles or their place on the canon timeline :P

[boldlyvoid]

No Longer Alone Together

Part One | Masterlist

Sunday, November 27th, 2022: The Recap

She’s standing in the bathroom, it’s a cold November morning, evident by how frigid the tiles are on her bare feet. She’s up because the kids are in her bed now, Spencer isn’t home, the world is still quiet but her mind was not. She has so much to do, she doesn’t feel good at all and she thinks she knows exactly why… its just the worst time ever to go through the first trimester again. 

Last December it was hectic as all hell with 3 kids. Atlas turned 7 just 5 days before Christmas, his birthday always took priority over the month, but this year she was nervous she wouldn’t be able to give him all the attention he deserves… Not when she’s currently gripping the kitchen sink like her life depends on it, nauseous as ever, waiting for this pregnancy test to tell her what she already knows. 

They weren’t actively trying… though, when were they ever? They’ve never used protection in their time together, resulting in Atlas in 2014, Noelle in February 2016 and little Luna in September 2019. There was a big gap between having Luna and taking this pregnancy test… not that they weren’t having sex in that time, they were just too busy dealing with COVID and zoom school and young immune systems every single day for almost 3 years. 

Life was stressful enough as it was with 3 kids under 10, they didn’t need a newborn on top of it all while the world was shut down… at least Y/N didn’t want that right now.

On the other hand, Spencer was sharing his seed with anyone who asked for it.

She liked to phrase it that way as if it wasn’t just her best friend and her wife who wanted Spencer’s sperm to have a genius family of their own. It always made her laugh to see people's reactions to finding out Spencer now had 2 kids with another woman and that Y/N babysat said baby from time to time. 

At the height of the pandemic, Emily and Laura were locked away in their DC mansion wishing they had a baby or two to share their time with… Laura always knew they wanted to be pregnant one day, she was fully ready to book an appointment with a clinic and look through books of donors when the world shut down. 

Emily, ever the planner, said: “if you want a smart and cute kid, we should ask Spencer to be our donor and we’ll do it right here at home, just me and you and the turkey baster.” 

Only the last part was a joke… until the device they bought to help do the inseminating looked a lot like a turkey baster. 

Emily and Spencer always joked about being siblings separated at birth, she cared for him like a big sister and he’d kill for her if he had to. He almost did during the Scratch era of their hell job… So when Emily asked Spencer if he’d ever considered donating his sperm to help her make a family, he didn’t have to think too hard about it. 

Asking Y/N if she was okay with it was the hard part for him, for some reason he really thought she’d have a problem with it… but it was actually quite fun helping him provide a sample in a cup. With Emily and Laura doing it on their own without doctors' help, not wanting to go to a doctor's office during the pandemic, it took a few tries, and then they had Peter Joseph, better known around their house as little PJ, in February 2021. 

Now Laura is pregnant again, at 35 weeks currently and on baby watch for all of Christmas, her due date is 1st of January, 2023 but you can’t really expect a second baby to come on time… the BAU family was all placing bets on just when this new Prentiss baby was going to join their ranks, Y/N thinks the baby might even get to share a birthday with Atlas. 

Derek also had a son right after they had Noelle. Hank Spencer Morgan was adorable, it must come with the name. JJ and Will had Michael not too long after, rounding their total to 3 kids which made them try for Luna to even it up again. 

Before Spence left the FBI for good, they had a few new members join too, one of which was a lovely man named Matt who had a wife and 4 kids, they had their 5th right before Spencer quit— literally about a month before the accident that decided it all for them. 

Much like JJ and Will, they had agreed early on that if things at work got to be too much, if what happened with Hotch ever started to happen to them, then Spencer would quit. They never expected it to actually happen, then Spencer was caught in an explosion, he went down hard and came home feeling fine. But he wasn’t fine. 

Finding Spencer unconscious on the floor was the scariest thing she’s ever been through and poor Atlas saw it too. 

They called 911, and Spencer was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance while she had to stay behind with the kids and wait for someone to come and watch them before she could follow him. It took 20 minutes for Will to show up, 20 minutes that felt like hell on earth, and then she was at his bedside for 2 days. 

With Diana and Liam there too, they held Spencer's hands after surgery and waited way too long to see if he’d ever wake up again. It was a slow brain bleed, he was lucky his wife was coming home to find him, otherwise who knows how long he would’ve been on the floor, waiting for help, unable to ask for it himself. 

He didn’t go back to work after that, he recovered at home with his babies and decided that he was going to stay there with them for good. He loved being a stay-at-home dad, it allowed Y/N to take up more hours at the museum again and he got to do crafts and take adventures and watch them grow up. It was fun until the kids both started school, Luna was still really little and day trips to the science centre and big crafts weren’t really her speed. He was bored most of the days when the house was empty and quiet during nap times…

So he wrote a book. 

Almost like an autobiography, he took the things that happened to him in his first few years of being an agent and turned it into a Sherlock Holmes-style novel. Retelling the adventures of Dr. Sebastian Reeves and his colleagues at the FBI, getting caught in the middle of a serial killer's sick games… Fishing For A King was published on October 14th, 2021 and the sequel, Where Dead Men Rise was just released, taking Spencer away on his first-ever book tour around the country. 

Which is why he’s not home currently. He’s not beside her for the first time ever as she takes a pregnancy test… Instead, he’s doing book signings, TED talks and being interviewed by every news outlet in North America. And tomorrow he’s on Jimmy fucking Fallon. What?? It was insane how much their little life has changed since 2013.  

You see, normally when they planned for a baby they were testing all the time, they always caught it early… this time they didn’t plan at all, she wasn’t testing because she didn’t expect it at all but then the nightmares started up again. Her boobs hurt, she could smell everything from a mile away and she wanted to cry all day long over everything and nothing at all… she knew exactly when she got pregnant too, and even joked about it right after he pulled out for a matter of fact… 

They had some of the best sex of their life at the start of Spencer's press tour thanks to Aunty Penny who watched the kids so she could go to New York with him. It was the first time in 7 years that they’d been completely alone for more than a few hours and they spent all of their free time in bed. Of course, she got pregnant, and they were so fucking happy, it was just like in the beginning. 

The test is positive. 

The brightest positive she’s ever seen, too, seeing as it’s been over a month since she saw Spencer last, she was a lot more pregnant now than she was with any of the other kids, when she saw their first positive tests it was after 1-2 weeks… right now she’s about 8 or 9 weeks pregnant. 

She’s going to have 4 kids. 

They’re going to be a family of 6. 

They were catching up to the Simmons, slowly but surely… hopefully, this isn’t twins cause then they’d match up perfectly. 

She puts the test in the cabinet behind the mirror, knowing the kids can’t get into it so they’d never see it. They knew what it was, at least the older two did. Being 6 and almost 8, they remembered when she was pregnant with Luna in 2019. They had their dad’s memory after all. 

The kids are up and in her bed, the girls cuddled into each side of their brother as he holds their iPad in the middle, his legs crossed with his cute little toes moving to the music on his show. She found a cartoon Santa Clause series from the early 2000s and put it on for them, they have watched almost the whole first season in the last few days. It’s so cute seeing them so peaceful and happy together, getting excited for their favourite time of year. 

They’ve been sleeping in bed with her a lot without daddy being home. They wanted to call him the moment they woke up, but being in LA now meant they couldn’t. They didn’t understand at first, so she had to get out the globe from Spencer’s office and taught them about timezones and how the earth moves around the sun while rotating on an axis, making a 24-hour day.  

Holding her phone flashlight up, she pretended it was the sun in their very dark room (it was 6am.) they understood from then on that when daddy was on the other side of America, he was 3 hours behind them and probably still asleep, so they had to wait for him to wake up and call them.

“You guys hungry?” She asks as she walks back over to the bed. 

They all nod and scramble to pause their video so they can jump out of bed and race her down the stairs. They each get their choice between Eggos and scrambled eggs or cereal and fruit, she ends up making them all scrambles and waffles with some cut-up grapes and orange juice just to round it into a full meal. 

Thanks to an episode of the Waltons one night, the kids have started saying a sort of grace before every meal.

“Dear father, we miss you, we hope you’re having a good day in Los Angeles and that mommy lets us watch your interview show tomorrow,” Atlas leads. 

“And bring us back something cool,” Noelle teases with a smirk. 

“Can he hear us when we do this?” Luna whispers across the table to her big brother who just shrugs, having no clue what they’re doing, they just want to wish their dad a good day while he’s gone. 

She doesn’t have the heart to tell them that they say dear father as a way to talk to god, to bless their family and their food and insure that good things come to them… they weren’t a religious household in the slightest, but if the kids wanted to be spiritual in their own way and send a blessing out for their dad, who was she to stop them? 

They have little conversations with each other that just amaze her, she somehow created 3 amazing little geniuses with the biggest hearts to match. Much like her, Atlas was into dinosaurs for a while, he was often asking to come to work with her on weekends and snow days off from school, he would give anything to dig something up and learn about it all day. He collects rocks, he knows everything about space and the moon (which is just a big rock) and he plans to work at the Smithsonian one day too… just on the Air and Space side. 

And he probably will, seeing as he has his dad's genius brain after all. He’ll probably be able to get a Ph.D. or two by the time he’s 25. 

Noelle is more into learning how things work and move, she loves the cars movie franchise and thus all things with wheels. She’s been spending a lot of time with Henry and Michael, playing Tony Hawk games on the play station which caused them to build a skate ramp in the backyard while Will wasn’t looking and using her as the test dummy. 

She broke her arm in 2 places and the cast comes off next week, with just enough time for Spencer to come home and sign it before they cut it off. 

Luna, on the other hand, she wouldn’t be caught dead near a bike or anything that can get her dirty. She’s always been very meticulous, she learned fine motor skills long before she wanted to walk, which wasn’t helpful when babies also love putting things in their mouths. Spencer’s knowledge of CPR came in handy a few times, unfortunately. Now she’s 4 and her attention to detail is mainly spent on legos which she has learned don’t go in her nose, mouth, ears or anything thing that’s not lego branded… 

She has the LEGO art pieces that match the art at mom's work, they’re her favourite. She’s also started to draw a lot, she was probably going to be their artist. 

The 3 of them are so incredibly different yet so wondrously alike. They absorb knowledge like a sponge, they respect each other's talk time, and they butt heads often, but they never hate each other. Fights never last long. They end with hugs and apologies and understanding that they’re all learning how to be good people and mistakes are bound to happen. 

That was always their fear when they became parents; that their kids wouldn’t get along. You see, not having siblings meant that Y/N and Spencer didn’t know what it was like. From what they knew about JJ, she took her sister for granted till it was too late and wished every day that she still had her around. Then there’s Hotch, he loved his brother but they were so different and had such an age difference that now they never talk. 

They didn’t want that for their own kids. So seeing them so happy together, they were best friends and co-conspirators, 3 unstoppable forces that could band together within the blink of an eye… How was she going to add a 4th to their already perfect group without it disrupting everything?

“Are you guys excited for Aunt Laura to have her baby soon?” She cuts into the lull in their conversations, thinking that was a good segue. She wanted to know their thoughts on having another baby in the family without asking them outright. 

“I’m excited,” Luna answers with a sweet smile, “I want it to be a girl cousin.” 

“Me too,” Noelle agrees. “Mama, do they know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?” 

“I’m not sure,” she genuinely didn’t know. “I think they’re keeping it a surprise.” 

“Like a present,” Luna says, often vocalizing every thought she had, as always. 

“Yeah… speaking of, on December first we’ll really start to celebrate, but what if we used this time while daddy is away to go get his Christmas presents?”  

“So we don’t have to worry about him seeing it?” Atlas completely understood and his smile told her he was on board. 

She nods, “yeah, we can go out today if you guys want?” 

They all chant a very enthusiastic yes, bouncing in their seats with excitement. 

They celebrate Christmas and a little bit of Hanukkah with Emily and Laura most years, the All-idays party was also coming up, which meant they all had to get another present for that… before they get dressed and ready to head out, she keeps them at the kitchen table with a piece of lined paper and asks them what kind of gifts they want to get for their family members. 

“Because Christmas is about a lot more than just a man in a red suit giving you guys things, it’s about showing everyone in your life how much you love them, as well,” mom explains, like every Christmas, but this year they seem to understand it a lot better.  

For white elephant they each had to bring in a gift, something that could be picked and stolen and loved by the person who eventually ends up with it. So they had to brainstorm some really good gift ideas that everyone else in their family group would like.

Each year the list of guests gets longer, this year there are 10 cousins, possibly 11 depending on when Laura goes into labour, and that’s not even including Y/N’s 3. Soon to be 4. 

Thats 15 BAU kids… 16 if you count Jack, but they’re not coming this year, perfectly happy back in Seattle with Hailey’s extended family. 

They needed to also consider all their aunts, uncles, and grandparents… it was so many people. Thank god uncle Dave had a big house. 

They get all bundled up for their trip to the mall and go over their rules of being out in public on the drive over. They have to always be touching the kart or holding each other's hands, they can’t walk away from Mommy even if they’re excited about something, they have to bring her to the excitement so she doesn’t lose them. And they know scary people do exist and not everyone out there is kind for good reasons. They’re hyper-vigilant, they stick together and they’re always rewarded with a sweet treat at the end of the day because of it. 

Spencer calls when they’re in the middle of the game store, shopping for the older kids, like Henry, Jake or David, getting them a new game for the switch, which everyone has. She has to decline the call cause the store is too loud and hectic, sending him a quick text saying they’re out right now and she’ll call back soon… but with so many things in her hands and 3 kids to watch over all alone. 

She forgets until they’re home later that night, after getting dinner at Mcdonald's in front of the TV, they’re watching Harry Potter for the first time when Daddy calls again. 

Atlas sees her phone light up with Spencer’s face behind the FaceTime caller ID, she’s in the kitchen cleaning ketchup off Noelle's cast, so he picks up for his mom. 

“Hi, daddy,” he brightens right up, Luna comes running to his side, shouting his name at him with excitement. 

“Hello munchkins, where have you been? Mama said she’d call me earlier and then she never did?” 

“We went out and then got McDonald's,” he turns the FaceTime around and shows the carpet picnic happening in front of the TV. “Mom is helping Noa get some ketchup off her cast, it fell out of her burger and landed right on it.” 

“We should sue McDonald's, then I guess,” he teases making them laugh. “Did you have fun at the mall? Did you get any gifts for Grandma and Grandpa?” 

“And for you but we can’t tell you what it is,” Atlas explains, “we promised mommy.” 

“Yeah, pinky promised,” Luna gives even more detail. “And you know about those…” 

“I’m so excited to open it, do you know how many days there are till Christmas left?” Spencer asks, they’ve been counting down since after Thanksgiving. 

They take the phone running into the kitchen, where the countdown exists on the fridge, showing him that there were 27 days left. 

“What are you— oh gosh, Spence, I’m sorry, I never called you back!” Y/N calls out when she realizes what the kids are doing with her phone. 

She’s drying off her hands before she lifts Noelle off the counter and back to the ground, Atlas hands her the phone and Spencer explains how it’s fine, he just wanted to check-in. They catch up in the kitchen for a few moments alone, only to go back out to the living room and finish dinner. The movie is paused, and they set him up on her laptop instead of the phone, the kids all sharing memories from the day with their dad… they missed him so much, they never wanted to hang up but it was bedtime.  

“I miss you, daddy,” Luna sighed, resting her head on her brother's shoulder so they could all fit in the frame. 

“I miss you, too, looney tunes,” he tries not to get too choked up. “Just a couple more days and then I’m coming home and I’m snuggling you all for hours, you’re going to be sick of me with how much love I’m going to give you.” 

She laughs because she knows it’s true, she’s heard him cry on the phone too many times about having, what he could only equate to mom guilt, about not being home with them again when they’re so used to it. He missed them. He missed watching them grow. He felt horrible that he wasn’t there for Noelle in the hospital when she got her cast, he missed Halloween, Thanksgiving and Henry's birthday… he felt horrible without them. 

But the kids have school tomorrow, so they can’t stay up late to talk to their daddy. He lets them go just in time to have a bath and head to bed, only to call back 2 hours later that for his alone time with his wife. She answers with her headphones in, all 3 kids in her bed on Spencers side, missing him too much to sleep alone, sound asleep all cuddled into each other already. 

They whisper their goodnights, he reminds her just how much he loves her and sends her a kiss all the way from the other side of America. “Did you get it?” He whispers, even though he didn’t have to. 

She nods, touching her cheek with a smile. “I love you, Spence… Thursday can’t come fast enough.”

[the-machines]

Part 2: Dystychiphobia

(This is a sequel to this post. Look at it before viewing this one.)

*Morgan finds shelter in a classroom, and her walkie-talkie beeps, and there's someone on the other line.*

Walkie-talkie: *BEEP!* Medical department. Where is the situation?

Morgan: Classroom 207. Hurry!

Walkie-talkie: *BEEP!* Alright, we sent two chemists to your location, and they'll arrive shortly.

Morgan: Thank you, so much.

Walkie-talkie: *BEEP!* You're welcome.

*Morgan puts the walkie-talkie away, and prepares herself.*

Morgan: Okay...

You've done this, before.

You. Can. Battle.

*Morgan can hear Ethan and Mikaela in the hallway.*

*They both burst through the door, and run after Morgan.*

*Morgan lunges above them, and lands perfectly.*

*Right when she gets up, she is met with a fist to the face by Ethan!*

*Thankfully, she blocks it, and pushes Ethan to Mikaela, which knocks them both over.*

*Their eyes then change to the color red, and they're ready for battle.*

*Morgan slams the door, with a disgruntled expression on her face.*

*Ethan and Mikaela stand up, and look at Morgan.*

Morgan: Look. Mikaela, Ethan... I know you two are still in there. I can't afford to lose you. This may look stupid, but you two are all I have. If I fight you now, there's a possibility that I'll lose you both. And, I do not want that. And, Dr. Henry Waru Malachi, PhD in Animal Science...

I know you can hear me. You don't deserve that PhD. You need to go straight to hell and never. Come. Back.

Meanwhile, Dr. Malachi in the hallway: We'll see about that.

*His computer screen crashes, and his computer is no longer available for use.*

Dr. Malachi: DAMN IT!!!

*Ethan launches at Morgan, but Morgan does a roll on the green carpet floor under him.*

*Mikaela throws a kick, but Morgan reacts quickly, and throws Mikaela's leg downwards.*

*Ethan runs at Morgan, but she performs an uppercut, which breaks his trance, and he is passed out, while Mikaela is still trying to get up.*

*Mikaela gets up on her feet, and tries to attack Morgan while she's turned around, but fails as she bends down, which misses Mikaela's punch, then Morgan jumps up, and spins around, to do a kick flip, which lands directly on the side of Mikaela's head!*

*Morgan, no longer driven with anger, looks down at Ethan and Mikaela, regretting her decision severely.*

Morgan: Oh, no... what have I done...

*Once again, Ethan's and Mikaela's bodies lay lifeless on the ground.*

*Morgan sits down on a desk, contemplating what she just did.*

*Then, the medical team arrives. It's the two Burn brothers: Zetturburn and Forsburn.*

Zetturburn: Morgan!

*The Burn brothers walk up to her, as she stands up.*

What happened?

Moegan: Okay, I can explain.

One explanation later...

Forsburn: So, you don't know how he did it?

Morgan: No. I was in the restroom by classroom 212, when it happened.

Zetturburn: Alright. Well, Dr. Malachi has been acting strange as of a few weeks ago, so we kinda expected this.

Morgan: Wait, really? Why didn't you tell anyone?

Forsburn: Not enough evidence for support.

Zetturburn: Although, I think the manager would think so. He watches the cameras, and he possibly saw the chase scene in the hall.

Morgan: Okay, so I have a witness. Perfect.

Forsburn: But, Arceus, you really knocked them out, cold.

Morgan: I know, and I'm really scared that they're not gonna wake up, again...

Zetturburn: Miss Ryan, don't worry. They'll be safe with us, and before you know it, they're alive and healthy, again.

Zetturburn: No problem.

15 minutes later...

*Dr Malachi is called down in the courtyard, where he meets Dr. Manaphy Clayton, manager of the FRRL building.*

Dr. Clayton: You took control of 14-CAT, AND 12-LOTL?!

Dr. Malachi: It was worth it.

Dr. Clayton: I can't believe this. Why? Why would you use our very recent, SUCCESSFUL experiments, as your own bidding?

Dr. Malachi: To prove that you can do anything, when you put your mind to it.

Dr. Clayton: *sigh* That violates our Protection Policy, and Terms of Service.

Dr. Malachi: Okay? What do you want me to do about it?

*A few moments of awkward silence.*

Dr. Malachi: What?

Dr. Clayton: Did I stutter?

Dr. Malachi: *sigh* No, sir.

Dr. Clayton: Good.

You are hereby banished from this building for as long as you live!

Dr. Malachi: Fine!

*Dr. Malachi grabs his supplies, and leaves the premises, never to be seen again... hopefully.*

We'll Be Right Back.

[demcnsinmymind]

taiinted​:

IT WOULD HAVE LIKELY BROUGHT THEM JOY, RELIEF EVEN TO SEE IT WAS THE HOST and not the demon they were interacting with ( they would always find them slightly unnerving ) for a change, if he hadn’t decided to get cranky with them. They only manage to get halfway towards him  before they are unable to go further and crimson red eyes stare solemnly down at the  flask  in their gloved hand, which contained hot chocolate. They had planned on giving it to him as a type of peace offering, but it seemed pointless now, considering how he was already questioning their motives. 

They turn slowly on their heels before they move over to the edge of the pavement and sits down on it. They pull a small, brown paper bag full of bird seed  out of their pocket and scatters some of it  onto the pavement. It doesn’t take long for a pigeon to fly down and start pecking at it by their feet, something that instantly brings a smile back upon their lips.  ❝Then ya need t’get some sleep. Ya don’t look… well  — and no that is not me bein a busy body, that’s me showin’ concern. I’ve been told several times by others that my weakness is showin’ compassion to those who don’t  deserve it  — but  it must be a ordeal havin’  that  invasive creature — I mean individual, snatchin your body right from under ya all the time.   ❞ They  lower their head  to look down at the pigeon cooing  by their feet. They know it likely wants more food but they had given the rest of it to the crows and magpies while down at the park just this morning.  ❝I actually used t’be a alcoholic. I got clean when I saw it was playin havoc with my powers and I had a baby to look after, which was another reason why I gave it up. My son Darwin. He turns three in February. I haven’t heard from his mother since she dropped him off at my doorstep and I doubt I will see her again, so I am all he has got. Do ya have family? Anyone close that can help ya deal with your unwanted passenger?  ❞

Well. If that isn’t interesting. He remembers the first time he met the hybrid. Not in charge of his own body at the time but a first meeting regardless. Them, standing over two bodies. Blood everywhere. Talking about how lovely it felt to kill someone, even if prompted by Azathoth. And here they are now, sitting before him. Feeding the birds, smiling.

It’s somewhat perplexing and grotesque to see them like that. So confusing that Lance’s first instinct is not to leave anymore, but to remain standing right here, staring at them with a puzzled, wary look on his face. He chooses to ignore the comment on how tired he looks, because there is no way he’s going to talk about his nightmares and insomnia with a total stranger. Instead, he gives the other a soft snort.

“Maybe they got a point” he replies in regards to the other’s ‘weakness’, though truth be told, it makes them instantly more likeable in his book. Empathy. Instead of endless sadism and selfishness. Certainly a refreshing change of scenery. “It’s not happening ‘all the time’“ he has to correct Morgan anyway, but it’s more of a mutter, maybe not even aimed at the other, but at himself. As the hybrid talks more about themself, Lance looks right back at them with an indecipherable look on his face, letting them finish what they have to say. Look hardening and getting even more guarded the second he’s asked if he has any family, anyone really, who can help him.

In an instant, there’s a thick, suffocating lump in his throat. His teeth gritting, his eyes growing a bit wider as he battles the onslaught of emotions and grief that his ‘unwanted passenger’ is more than happy to lab right up. Because yeah. Isn’t that always the fun part to realize. That he’s alone with this. That everyone else is either dead or pushed away and kept at a distance. For their safety.

“You’re a bit of an oversharer, aren’t you” is the first thing he says then, the rudeness a defense mechanism to keep everything else at bay. But even he soon realizes that he’s being an utter dick. Especially to someone who might be a better person than him after all. Then, with a deep breath, he decides to move forward instead and sits down next to Morgan, with some generous space between them. He places his elbows on his knees and leans forward a bit so he can move his hand through his hair.

“Can’t imagine what that’s like. Three year old kid. Entirely dependent on you alone. Jesus” he takes them up on the conversation, softer, and finally looks back at the other. “That takes some serious guts.I mean that” the former TV host goes on, only to look away again. He starts fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket for a bit, trying to imagine it but, nope. He knows he couldn’t do something like that. One of the many reasons why he did what he did back when he fucked up in film school.

“I’m more the type of person like that dear mother of his I guess. So, you know. Whatever.” There’s a bitterness in his voice, followed by silence. Until he once again looks back at the other and beams a fake grin at him. “Looks like here you are again. Showing compassion to those who don’t deserve it. You should work on that. For your kid’s sake.”

[ddejavvu]

Good Company - Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

WC: 4.4K / navi / preview

Summary: You’re stuck rooming with Hotch on your first case with the BAU. You’re confused as to why everyone is shooting you sympathetic glances, but a talk with Hotch himself reveals that he’s a lot softer than he lets on, and that you’re the only one who cared to notice.

Contents/Warnings: Hotch gets the love that he deserves !!!! Some self-doubt/self deprecation, and slight mentions of a typical cm case and its contents

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You didn’t think you’d ever looked forward to collapsing in a stiff hotel bed more than you were now. You had just finished day one of your first ever case on the job, and the paranoia settled in your chest almost outweighed your exhaustion. 

It didn’t, though. You nearly fell asleep in the van, the snow blanketing the sidewalks as you made your way to your hotel for the night. You had been warned already that the heating system in the hotel was less-than-satisfactory, but you were determined to bury yourself under at least three blankets, and get as much sleep as possible until you had to be up again in the morning. 

You were barely able to rouse yourself from your sleepy state when the van was parked, but you hauled yourself out into the snow anyways. Your bag was packed into the trunk, and you waited for Morgan to take his out first, slipping in beside him and letting the bag hang at your side.

You shuffled into the hotel lobby beside JJ, who smiled sympathetically at you. You were sure she’d had her fair share of late nights on the job, and you applauded her for being so strong.

Hotch, who had gone to talk to the receptionist, picked up four room keys, meaning two people per room. Penelope had (reluctantly) joined you for this case, as the local police department was sorely lacking in technological strength. You’d needed all hands on deck to sift through their security camera footage, and who better than your very own technical analyst?

You didn’t have time to plan out a roommate for the night, filing into the elevator with the rest of your team and offering a tired smile at Reid who caught your eye on the way in. Your eyes practically closed in the elevator, the soft hum of the machinery lulling you to sleep even though you were standing up.

Prentiss seemed to notice, snorting softly and bumping against your shoulder. You weren’t very balanced, your eyes shooting open as you stumbled sideways, knocking Hotch against the wall of the elevator. Your face hit his shoulder, your head bumping gently against the wall as he hurried to stabilize you. His hand found a grip around your waist, then flitted quickly to the small of your back once he’d hauled you onto your feet.

“I’m so sorry!” You rushed to steady yourself again, your eyes still panicked from your almost-fall, “I didn’t mean to-”

“Y/L/N,” Hotch let a miniscule, reassuring smile cross his features, “It’s fine. Are you okay? It looked like you hit your head.”

“I’m fine,” You raised your free hand to brush gently over where you’d hit the wall, feeling no residual pain, “It didn’t hurt.”

Hotch nodded at you, his eyes drifting back to Prentiss who stood casually in the corner, chatting with Reid and trying to pretend like she hadn’t been the reason for your fall. You noticed a hint of sternness in his gaze, though you had to look away before you could evaluate it, just in case he caught you staring.

Thankfully, you only had to go to the fourth floor of the hotel. If you had stood in that elevator for much longer, you would have died, either out of exhaustion or embarrassment from ramming into your boss.

Finally the elevator stopped, the doors sliding open before you. You had to let Rossi and Morgan out before you, but you filed quickly behind them, purposely bumping into Prentiss on the way out. She only smirked, and you reluctantly let a smile flit over your face, your friendly teasing amusing to you both.

You had half a mind to ask to room with her, but you didn’t have time to do anything about that before Hotch was turning to face you all. You hadn’t noticed him slip past you to be at the front of the group, and you hoped that he’d missed you shoving Prentiss in the hallway.

“Okay, let’s pair up.” He spoke simply, and you turned to Emily, realizing that she was already headed towards JJ. You floundered slightly, watching as Garcia clung tight to Morgan’s arm, the pair already giggling about some stupid joke.

You sought out Reid next, but he was in the middle of rambling animatedly to Rossi about a documentary that he’d been wanting to share with the man, and not even Rossi’s half-panicked expression at his new roommate was enough to get you to interrupt him and ask to be his roommate instead.

Before you could process the situation, you felt a tentative hand on your shoulder.

“It looks like we’re together for the night.” Hotch murmured, his voice low between you in the dim hallway, “I’m sorry you didn’t have much choice.”

You frowned at his apology, your mouth falling open to ask him to clarify, but he was already taking your bag from your hands, hoisting it over his shoulder and tossing everyone else their keys.

“Everyone meet back at the precinct by seven tomorrow,” Hotch made eye contact with each of his agents, “And get some sleep. We need to be on top of our game.”

You waved a brief goodbye to everyone as Hotch opened his door, catching Morgan’s eye as he mouthed an, ‘I’m sorry,’ at you. His sympathy confused you just as much as Hotch’s earlier statement had, and your frown only deepened, hearing the door click behind you as the lock was turned.

“Go ahead,” Hotch pushed the door open for you, your bag still hiked over his shoulder, “You can pick which bed you want.”

You felt around blindly for a light switch, your fingers curling around it when you felt the cool plastic. A quick flick of the switch revealed not two twin beds, but one queen bed, standing proudly in the middle of the room, like it was taunting you.

Hotch seemed to notice at the same time that you did, a soft, ‘Oh.’ coming from behind you as you stilled in the door. You broke out of your trance a second later, making a beeline for the loveseat that stood against the wall.

“I’ll stay here for the night,” You reached for your bag, but he stepped away from you, frowning skeptically at the sofa.

“You need to get a good night’s sleep, Y/N. This is your first time here, you can’t compromise your health like that. I can take it for the night, it’s okay.”

“No!” You urged, “No, I’d feel so guilty if I made you sleep on that. Seriously, it’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“I do,” Hotch frowned, glancing tentatively at the bed, waiting a moment before speaking again, ‘It’s big enough to share, if you’re comfortable with that.”

You were glad that he’d suggested the somewhat compromising sleeping arrangement, because you hadn’t been looking forward to sleeping on what was sure to feel like cinderblocks. But you didn’t want to push his boundaries, so you had stayed silent.

At his offer you nodded with a soft smile on your face, “That’s fine with me.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, no longer stiff under the dark fabric of his suit jacket. He set your bag beside the bed, letting his fall to the floor with an unceremonious thump on the other side. 

You were glad that you’d showered that morning, not wanting to waste any possible sleeping time in a hotel bathroom.

“I’m gonna shower tonight,” He seemed to have read your thoughts, gesturing to the bathroom, “Did you wanna go first?”

“I’ll take one in the morning,” You waved him off, “Go ahead.”

He nodded, grabbing a change of clothes from his bag and locking himself in the tiny bathroom. You heard the shower turn on while you were reaching for a book in your bag, and you could tell just by the sound of the water that the pressure was terrible. You weren’t looking forward to tomorrow morning.

You busied yourself with your book while Hotch was in the shower, your eyes drooping steadily. You didn’t want to go to sleep yet, though, because if Hotch came out of the shower and saw you asleep, you knew he’d make an extra effort to be quiet, and you didn’t want to inconvenience him. 

Your eyes scanned the page in front of you, but your mind wandered. Why had both Morgan and Hotch apologized to you before you got inside? What were they apologizing for? You tried wracking your brain, but the only thing you could think of that would warrant an apology was Prentiss knocking you over in the elevator, and even she hadn’t apologized for that.

You finally gave into your curiosities when you heard the shower shut off, grabbing your phone and pulling up Morgan’s contact.

Hey, you typed, your fingers slightly less nimble than they normally were as you fought your exhaustion, Why did you apologize earlier? What were you sorry for?

He replied fairly quickly, and you rolled your eyes fondly at the knowledge that he wasn’t asleep yet. You weren’t sure if he or Penelope would sleep at all that night, too caught up in giggling and making jokes and enjoying each others’ presence.

‘You got the short end of the stick. No one ever rooms with Hotch. You’re gonna have a long night.’

Why? You replied, your brows furrowing. Did he kick in his sleep? Did he snore? Did he set obnoxious alarms for way too early in the morning?

‘Are you kidding? He’s a hardass! I can’t imagine sharing a room with him, is he barking orders at you? Has he demanded you be in bed, lights out yet?’

He’s not always like that, You scoffed lightly at Morgan’s judgements, He’s a normal person??

‘I think I’ve seen him smile twice.’

Well that sounds like he’s got nothing to smile about around you, You typed out bitterly, uneasiness growing in your chest as you realized why Hotch was probably so reserved around the office, And I wouldn’t either if my coworkers expected me to bite their heads off 24/7.

You didn’t bother replying to whatever half-joke that Morgan made back, setting your phone on the nightstand with a huff. Something inside of your chest ached as you realized that your team regarded your boss as only that, and never considered the person that he was outside the office. You were well aware that Hotch had been through significant trauma in his life, and was surlier than most. But you also knew that he wasn’t like that all the time. You’d seen him smile three times over the past two days, all centered around pictures and videos of his son that he’d been sent. Apparently no one was looking hard enough at their boss to see who he was underneath the title, and his mannerisms made sense now.

The bathroom door opened, and Hotch stepped out onto the thick hotel carpet. You glanced up from your book and offered him a smile at his reentry, and you saw the neutral frown on his face lift slightly.

“Aren’t you tired?” He gestured to the book in your hands, and you shrugged.

“I didn’t wanna pass out and then force you to tiptoe around for the rest of the night. I’ll sleep soon.”

His face fell slightly, and he wrestled with his suit jacket, slipping it over the hanger that he’d stored his dress shirt on, “Y/N, I’m sorry for making you think…” He started, but his face darkened even more and he thought better of it, shaking his head, “You- you can go to sleep. I want you to rest well, this is your first case on the job and you need to take care of yourself.”

You didn’t point out his usage of your first name, but it only further proved your point. He dropped his professional air in the privacy of the hotel room, addressing you as a person and not as a subordinate.

“No, no, it’s okay. I actually wanted to ask you something,” You set your book aside, shifting your body so that you were facing him as he hung up his suit, “Is that okay?”

“Go ahead,” He looked confused, a frown wrinkling his brows, “Is everything okay?”

“You tell me,” You let out a breathy laugh, “Why do you keep apologizing?”

“What do you mean?”

‘First you apologized when we paired up for the night. Now you’re apologizing because I wasn’t already asleep. What are you sorry for in both of those scenarios?”

A resigned smile crossed his features at your words, a pretty sight but one that saddened you, “I’m very well known among the team as the one to avoid rooming with.”

“Do you kick in your sleep or something?” You voiced a concern from earlier, “‘Cause if I’m gonna end up on the floor, I’ll just take the couch.”

“I think you’d be better off sleeping on the floor than the couch,” Hotch threw a disdainful glance at the sofa in the corner, “But no, I think everyone’s just scared to room with their boss.”

“That’s dumb.” You huffed, your words deepening the smile on his face, “It’s not like we’re on the clock or anything.”

“I’m sure I’m not the best company either way,” He mused, his eyes anywhere but meeting your own, “I don’t blame them for avoiding me.”

As his smile widened, your frown did the same. He spoke of his terrible reputation with a wistful air, like he wanted to change it but didn’t know how, or didn’t think he could. The ache in your chest felt like it was splitting you apart by now, the man standing in front of you wringing your heart out with his admission.

“You’re great company.” You spoke, and you watched his eyes widen slightly. He froze for a second, then his hands continued fumbling with his tie, his cheeks growing rosy.

“I’m glad you think so,” He murmured, “Haven’t heard that in a while.”

“Hotch,” You crawled across the bed, kneeling on his side, “Do you believe them?”

“What do you mean?” He hummed, though he continued fussing with his belongings instead of looking at you.

“Do you believe the team when they make jokes about you? About how you’re no fun, or that you’re too serious?”

“I am too serious,” He let out a breathy laugh, “Just because they’re made as jokes doesn’t mean they’re not true.”

“But you’re not always like that!” You urged, “You have a life outside of work. Just because they don’t always see it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist, or that it’s not really you. I’ve seen you smile, and laugh, and crack jokes, and I’ve only been here for a month.”

“I…” Hotch started, opening his mouth to speak and shutting it again quickly. You could see the conflict brewing behind his eyes, then finally he found his voice again, “Why are you doing this?”

“Why am I doing what?”

“Why are you trying to persuade me that I’m fun to be around?”

“Because you are.” You spoke plainly, shifting your legs so that they hung over the side of the bed, “And I don’t want you to keep thinking you’re not.”

“I appreciate your efforts,” Hotch let a smile break through his expression again, this time much more genuine and positive, “But you’re going to have to listen to them say stuff like that for as long as you work here.”

“Well they can say whatever they want, we’ll know it’s not true.”

Hotch’s smile only grew, and he shook his head slightly, glancing down at the ground, “You’re very persistent.”

“Is it working?”

“Yes,” He finally glanced up at you, appreciation painted over his face, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Anytime,” You grinned, scooting back to your side of the bed, “And if they ever bother you again, I’ll take care of ‘em.” You waved a fist in the air threateningly, and it drew an incredulous laugh from Hotch who crawled under the blankets beside you, occupying the spot you’d just vacated.

“I’d love to see Prentiss’s face when she realizes you’re my protector now.”

The teasing title warmed your heart, as did the soft smile on Hotch’s face. He looked comfortable, not only physically in his flannel pajama bottoms and t-shirt, but emotionally as well, if his eyes lingering on your own was any evidence.

“I’d love to get her back for pushing me in the elevator,” You recalled nearly tipping Hotch over, “Just say the word and I’ll attack.”

You could tell that your joke amused him, but at the mention of the near-disaster earlier, his smile faded. He reached out without thinking, the gesture somewhat intimate in the bed between you, his fingers brushing softly over the spot on your head that you’d bumped.

“Are you-” He intended to make sure you were okay, but he seemed to realize just how intimate the touch really was, blushing softly once more, “Sorry, I didn’t think- I just wanted to make sure…”

“It’s fine,” You waved off his concerns, slightly disheartened when he pulled his hand away, “My head doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Do you remember your name?” He recovered from his momentary awkwardness quickly, raising one eyebrow in a teasing expression.

“No,” You let out a yawn, the gesture aiding your sentence perfectly, “But I think that’s because of how tired I am, not because I have a concussion.”

“I hope you’re right.” Hotch murmured, reaching blindly behind him to feel for the light switch, pointedly not turning away from you, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night Hotch,” You mumbled, your eyes slipping shut, “See you in the morning.”

He hummed softly, flicking the light off and settling his head on the pillow, “You can call me Aaron.”

“Tomorrow,” Your brain could barely form the thoughts you wanted to get out, too consumed already by exhaustion, “I’m too sleepy tonight.”

He let out a soft laugh, and you felt his knee gently graze yours beneath the blankets, “Right, tomorrow.”

--

It turned out that Aaron didn’t set obnoxious alarms for way too early in the morning, his phone chiming at only six-thirty. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to make it to the precinct on time, but you appreciated the extra sleep.

You were much closer than you remembered being to Aaron in the queen bed, the both of you having shifted in your sleep to be pressed against one another. One of his hands was wound around your waist, the other beneath your head, acting as your pillow. One of your hands was resting between you two, spread out over his broad chest, as the other was slung over his shoulders. The proximity left a strange, warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you chalked it up to the stifling heat you’d awoken to.

Aaron’s alarm was still chirping on the nightstand, but apparently he couldn’t hear it from where he was burrowed into the crown of your head. Your face was tucked neatly into his neck,and you felt his breath fan out over your skin. You smiled fondly at the way he’d snuggled up to you in his sleep, knowing full well that he hadn’t intended to, and would be adorably bashful once he found out.

You kept your promise from the night before, gently patting his shoulder when he didn’t stir at the alarm, “Aaron,” You mumbled sleepily, “Aaron, it’s time to get up. We’ve gotta get back to the precinct.”

He groaned gruffly, his arms only tightening around you. You giggled softly at his haziness, this time patting his chest, ���Come on! We’ll get so much shit if we’re late.”

He stayed still for a moment, but you could feel him gradually waking up, a long sigh escaping him after a yawn, “I thought you said it didn’t matter what the team said.”

You groaned as he quoted your statement from the night before, reluctantly wriggling away from him, “Yeah, but I also wanna find this woman and go home.”

He seemed to agree with that argument, his arms loosening in their grip around you. You blinked slowly as you woke yourself up completely, and because of the way that Aaron had pulled back, his face was level with yours. You felt his eyes on you, and you blearily stared at him too, returning the soft smile that he gave you.

“You slept well?” You guessed at the reason for the bashful grin on his face.

“Best I’ve slept in forever,” You decided not to look into his flattering statement too far, your eyes glued to his own as you agreed.

“Me too.” You prolonged the eye contact for moment, and you could have sworn that he shifted slightly closer to you. Your heart began racing, any leftover drowsiness from waking up completely gone as you watched him inch forward. Your hand was still braced on his chest and you let your fingers curl gently into the front of his shirt, ready to let your eyes slip closed when his phone rang on the nightstand.

He froze, his lovesick gaze on you remaining for only a moment. Then, he was arching backwards, grabbing the phone from his nightstand and sitting up to hold it to his ear. Your hand fell away from his chest, and you caught your breath while he spoke to whoever was on the end of the line.

“Yeah, we’re coming.” He rubbed a hand over his face, still clearly half asleep, “We’ll be there soon.”

He hung up, setting the phone back on his nightstand and turning to face you. You hauled yourself upright, your heart still pounding in your chest. You would give anything to be trapped in that singular, serene moment until the end of time, the closeness and intimacy of what could have been tempting you more than anything ever had before.

“We’re a little late,” He smiled fondly at you while you checked your phone, “We should head over there now.”

“I’ll go get dressed,” You gestured to the bathroom, “I’ll be right back.”

You missed the way that his eyes tracked you as you headed into the bathroom, your clothes for the day in hand. A certain adoration lined his eyes, and he had to shake himself out of his daze to get himself dressed.

You were changed faster than he thought you’d be, because when you stepped out of the bathroom once more, he was half-naked. His slacks were unzipped, his chest on full display as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Your cheeks flared, and he bit his cheek, containing the smirk that threatened to slip past his lips as you hurried to your side of the bed, shoving your pajamas in your bag haphazardly.

He tucked his now-buttoned shirt into his slacks, buttoning them and reaching for his belt. He saw the way that your eyes lingered on his hands while they slid the leather strap through the loops on his slacks, and he basked in your attention.

“We can grab breakfast on the way,” Next he went after his tie, slinging it haphazardly over his neck, “There’s this place down by the precinct that we can drive-” He stopped dead in his sentence as he reached for his bag, feeling your hand on his arm. You turned him to face you, your eyes flitting to the tie over his neck rather than his own that stared down questioningly at you.

Your fingers twisted the tie around itself, brushing against his chest far more often than they needed to. But he relished the contact, finally letting his smile grow over his cheeks once more as you tied his tie.

You adjusted it once the knot was in place, tightening it to his neck and tugging at his collar when it threatened to crease, “There.”

“Thanks.” At his voice, you looked up at him, and your eyes widened slightly with just how close you were. 

You were trapped in another one of those suspenseful moments, the ones that had your heart fluttering and your breath catching in your throat. You so desperately wanted Aaron to kiss you, and he so desperately wanted you to kiss him, but all anyone did was stare into the other’s eyes. Your smiles grew the longer you stared, his eyes twinkling in adoration as yours shimmered similarly in excitement. 

You stood frozen, close enough to each other that you shifted forwards slightly, and were pressed against his chest. Your bold move seemed to give him all of the confirmation that he needed, and his large, rough hands came up to cup your cheeks, tilting your face upwards. He leaned down in one confident swoop, his lips pressing to yours as his eyes fell shut.

Your hands twisted themselves desperately in the collar of his suit jacket, tugging him impossibly closer to you by the fabric. He seemed to understand what you wanted, deepening the kiss while setting a hand on your hip, tugging you in closer. Your cheek was cold now that Aaron’s hand wasn’t covering it, but the warmth that his lips brought you filled your chest and flushed to your cheeks, heating you right back up.

You let out a soft hum into the kiss, a sound that made his hand tighten in its grip around your hip. His tongue swiped sensually over your lower lip, and you wanted nothing more than to part your lips, granting him the access he so confidently sought.

You would have done it, too, if there hadn’t been rampant pounding on the door only seconds after he’d kissed you. 

“Guys,” Morgan’s voice was slightly annoyed, something you’d never heard from the man directed at his boss, “Come on! We’re all waiting on you, are you even up?”

Aaron sighed, breaking away from the kiss and resting his forehead against yours. He had a sheepish grin on his face, making him look as youthful as you’d ever seen him, and he mumbled an apology against your lips.

“We’ll continue this later?” He murmured, keeping his voice low enough so that Morgan couldn’t hear it from outside.

“Definitely,” You nodded, for once hoping that you’d drag out the case long enough to stay another night, “I think we should start rooming together more often.”

Aaron reluctantly let you go as the knocking intensified, but the soft smile was still lingering on his face, “They’re gonna think you’re crazy.”

“Let them,” You started for the door, swinging it open and dodging Morgan’s fist which was still knocking on nothing, not noticing that you’d opened the door. The man glared exasperatedly at you, expecting an explanation as to why you'd been so unresponsive, but you didn't grant him one. Instead, you turned back to Aaron, who had stiffened slightly at the near-accident, sending him a reassuring smile, “I don’t care.”

tags: @sunflowermotel @jhiddles03 @just-shut-up-kid @fadingpersonaspyexpert @cheyxfu @beeblisss @rosaliedepp @skyler666 @wanniiieeee @ssamorganhotchner @wheelsupkels

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[agentmaxa]

Not As Bad As It Looks (Krashlyn x Reader)

Request

A/n; Warning there is a slur used in this piece.

As usual, sorry for any mistakes, please enjoy.

“Oh sorry about that,” Hinkle smirked at Y/n, who grunted while getting put from the turf.

“Don’t worry about it.” Y/n brushed off anything that was on her.

The game was still in play, Y/n heading off to help get the ball back for her team but Hinkle took a moment to look at Ali and Ash to make sure the two saw the dirty tackle.

“That little-”

Ash had to stop herself, seeing that a ref was paying attention, almost giving her a look, daring Ash to finish that sentence.

Of course, they’d card her before Hinkle.

Ash watched from the goal, Ali putting pressure on the team, and Y/n getting the ball from the defender.

Y/n back to moving the ball down the field.

Getting about halfway, Y/n noticed the NC defenders closing in deciding to make a pass to Morgan.

Once the ball had left Y/n’s feet, Y/n felt her feet being taken out from under.

Hinkle’s knee had gone into Y/n’s stomach, knocking the wind out of Y/n, who was holding herself trying to get back to her feet.

Hinkle had already gotten up and before anyone could get there Hinkle saw the ref approach, who was reaching into the yellow card pocket.

For some reason, Hinkle thought she could avoid being carded if Y/n was back up again before the ref got over there.

Grabbing Y/n by the arm and shoulder, Hinkle tried to force Y/n up.

Y/n inhaled sharply, almost losing balance being on her knees, stumbling. Ali was already moving to see if Y/n was okay after the bad tackle but Ali saw Hinkle trying to force Y/n to her feet, picking up her speed.

“What the hell Hinkle?”

Ali was in Hinkle’s face, ready to give Hinkle a taste of her own medicine.

Hearing the ref’s whistle Ali relented, seeing the yellow card given to Hinkle.

Ali turned to focus on Y/n now, just barely standing up.

“You okay, baby?”

Y/n nodded, “Just got the wind knocked out of me.” The ref asked Y/n if she was okay to play and Y/n gave the ref a thumbs-up.

The play was about to begin again, Ali gave Y/n a brief kiss on the side of the mouth.

“You missed, Kriegs.”

Y/n mumbled, softly grabbing Ali’s chin, making sure it was a proper kiss.

After separating, Ali made sure to make eye contact with the homophobic, hoping this would finally make Hinkle back off.

-----

In the final minutes of the game, Y/n was near the NC goal and getting ready to jump for a header.

Y/n didn’t pay much attention that Hinkle was marking her but Hinkle made note of it.

Noticing the ball was in the air, Y/n tensed her legs and sprigged up.

At the same time the ball was deflected, Y/n also felt pain shoot through her nose and face.

Hinkle stumbled on her feet when landing, rubbing her elbow.

Y/n was on the turf on her back, still slightly stunned by the hit. Y/n’s nose had a small cut and was also pouring blood.

Ali was the first by Y/n’s side, watching her go down. Ash ran from the other side of the field, heading straight to Hinkle.

“Hinkle, what the fuck?!” Ash was still angry from the other times Hinkle had hurt Y/n, Ash shoving Hinkle back.

The ref was ready to card Hinkle from having her elbows up, now having to card Ash.

Ashlyn was glad to see the card above Hinkle, resisting the eye roll when the ref did the same to her, regrettably admitting she deserved it.

But then Hinkle decided she wasn’t done, “It’s what you both deserve, fagot.”

Luckily for Hinkle, some of Ash’s teammates started to gather around the two to make sure Ash would stay calm and two of them were able to stop the goalkeeper before she was able to do something.

The ref was able to hear Hinkle’s words and held up the red card instead, sending Hinkle off the field immediately.

Ash was done dealing with everything, walking over to Ali and Y/n.

Y/n was leaning over the turf, trying to keep the jersey clean while the blood continued to leak out.

The medical team came over giving Y/n a cloth to help stop the bleeding.

“Well, this sucks.” Ash chuckled at Y/n’s comment, seeing the medic team start to guide Y/n off the field.

Ash stopped Y/n, picking her up bridle-style, Y/n squeaking in surprise, “Ash!”

Ash started walking them off the field, “Ash, I can still walk.”

“Not while I’m around princess.” Y/n rolled her eyes at the name Ash only called her when she was overprotective.

Ash finally let Y/n down at the edge of the turf, “Okay, my knight in shining armor.”

Ash pressed a kiss against Y/n’s forehead before letting the medic team check her out on the bench.

Reluctantly going back to the game Ali and Ash watched the clock, thanking every second that went by.

-----

“I swear, you guys, it was just a bloody nose.”

Y/n would’ve found it funny if she wasn’t the subject of torture.

Ali had asked if the pillows were comfortable for the third time, Ash made sure the small bandage on Y/n’s nose was done well and clean, and more.

“You still got nailed by Hinkle the whole match.” Y/n sighed, knowing neither of them would let up.

Ash spooned Y/n in their bed, Ali doing a checklist in her head to make sure everything was in order.

“You’re more clingy than usual too, what’s bothering you, baby?”

Y/n tried to turn to talk to Ash.

“Nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/n just raised her eyebrow at Ash, Ali now getting in the covers and listening.

“Hinkle just got under my skin tonight, that’s all.”

“I’ll withhold kisses for 24 hours, Harris.”

Ash cursed herself, “Hinkle’s elbow blow was intentional, she said you deserved it. Hinkle also used a slur and I wanted to see more than a red card for it.”

“That explains why they finally sent her off,” Ali said while Y/n gave Ash a gentle kiss, as a thank you.

“I’ll kick her ass next time she tries anything,” Ash mumbled, spooning Y/n again, realizing the pain medication was taking effect.

Y/n started to drift off, letting Ali sandwich her.

“Just don’t beat her too badly, Ash.”

“No promises.”

[nastybuckybarnes]

Deep End  -  Six

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 4.6K

A/n: Okie dokie! I’ve got an epilogue planned but I like this. The epilogue will explain shit better but I've known that this would be the end since pretty much the beginning LMAO

Deep End Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

When Steve hears you stop struggling, stop fighting and stop crying, he’s nervous.

It’s been a while since he locked you up there, and he really should check on you soon, if only to make sure the baby’s okay after that stunt you pulled.

He pushes the door to the bedroom open, eyeing your figure carefully.

You look like you’re asleep. If he wasn't so attuned to your body, your heart and your breathing, he wouldn’t have noticed something’s wrong.

Your heart is beating rapidly, far faster than normal. And it’s weaker than usual.

Your breathing is shallow and strained, and your face is lacking its usual healthy glow.

He rushes to your side, tearing the rope from your wrists and touching your face carefully.

Your skin is hot to the touch, and he feels fear settle in his gut.

He doesn’t know what to do, how to help. He’s never really had to help you like this, the doctor’s always been nearby.

He grabs his phone, calling the doctor and pacing nervously.

“Sh-she’s burning up and her breathing is shallow.”

Steve's stomach drops as he listens to the doctor’s instructions, answers his questions and comes to the realization of why you’re like this.

He rolls you onto your left side, tears welling up in his eyes at how unresponsive you are.

The doctor hangs up after telling the super soldier that he’ll be there soon.

His heart is in his throat as he tries to undo the damage of his punishment, putting the evidence back in the box and kicking the rope under the bed.

You’re still unresponsive, heart weak, but your breath sounds a little less strained.

Monster. That’s what you called him. What Natasha called him and what Bucky’s asset called him.

Maybe you’re right.

But he wants you. He needs you. Giving you up would be giving up a piece of his soul and he’s not ready to do that yet.

~*~

The doctor informs him that both you and the baby are okay, but being on your back for so long was compressing a major vein supplying your baby with oxygenated blood. If he’d gotten there any later it might’ve been too late.

With strict instructions to keep you on your left side and make sure you stay hydrated, the doctor takes his leave.

He stays by your side, holding your hand tightly in both of his as he really comes to terms with the fact that it was entirely his fault. He almost killed you and your baby to prove a stupid point. To discourage you from doing the very same thing.

His heart is heavy in his chest as he listens to your heartbeat get stronger, to the baby’s heartbeat continue fluttering like a hummingbird’s.

Those two sounds bring him peace, if only temporarily.

Shattering his peace is the sound of the front door opening, followed by tiny little footsteps clomping up the stairs.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Sarah.

Steve shoves himself to his feet and quickly leaves the room just as his daughter tries to enter.

“Sarah, mommy’s sleeping.” She frowns up at him and shakes her little blonde head.

“I need to talk to mommy!”

She walks around his legs only for him to scoop her up in his arms.

“She’s sleeping right now, honey.”

Sarah shakes her head angrily, beating her tiny fists against his shoulders.

“Let me go! I want mommy! Mommy!! Put me down!” She starts shrieking. Full-on screaming bloody murder right in his ear, and he loses his grip on the wriggling child.

She slides out of his arms and runs into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed and shaking your shoulder.

“Mommy?” She’s got little tears on her face, and they don’t cease when you don’t wake up.

“Why won’t mommy wake up?!” She looks up at Steve with terror written on her face and it shatters his heart in his chest.

“Sarah, mommy’s sick, okay? I had the doctor come over and he said that she needs to rest and when she wakes up we’re gonna need to make sure she’s got plenty of water, okay?”

Sarah’s big blue eyes are filled with tears and she shakes her head.

“I want mommy!”

She clings to your torso, crying against your shoulder in fear.

“Sarah, honey, mommy’s gonna be okay. You just gotta give her some space, okay? How about I set up a movie for you?” Sarah sniffles and slowly pulls away from you, looking at her father and shaking her head again.

“I want mommy! I hate you!”

Steve then realizes just how crucial you are. How important you are, not only to him but to his daughter as well.

Losing you would hurt so many people.

“Honey, you gotta give mommy and I some space, okay?”

He picks up the five-year-old, despite her quite literally kicking and screaming, and sets her down outside the bedroom.

He shuts the door quickly and locks it even faster.

Sarah stands outside, wailing her head off and pounding on the door with her tiny little fists.

She cries for you, over and over again, and it breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s brought back to what you said about him. About how this isn’t love.

He sits down at your side again, trying desperately to drown out the sound of his daughter crying outside as his thoughts overwhelm him.

He hasn’t been the nicest to you, that he’ll openly admit, and he makes mistakes probably more often than he doesn’t. But he loves you. He needs you.

Tears well up in his eyes and he lets out a shuddering breath.

He’ll make this right. He has to. Sarah deserves a mother, so does your unborn baby. And -though he may not deserve you- he needs you. The monster will be hard to fight, but losing you will be harder.

The damage he’s done might be irreversible, but he’s gonna do what he can to make things right, to give you a better life.

You don’t wake up for a few hours, but when you do you’re confused.

Your back aches and you feel a little dizzy as you remember what happened, how you got here.

Steve watches as you regain consciousness, confusion pulling your brows together before you slowly open your eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.

You look up at him then drop your gaze to your belly, bringing your free hand down to rub it gently.

“Am I... are we okay?” He nods gently, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I was... I don’t know, trying to teach you a lesson. And all that did was hurt you. Hurt the baby. I wanted to show you that trying to hurt yourself and hurt the baby wouldn’t fly, but I ended up doing far more damage.”

You swallow hard and struggle to push yourself into a seated position, wincing at the throb in your head.

“The doctor said that you shouldn’t move too much, and try to stay on your left side when you sleep. I-I didn't know that sleeping on your back was bad.”

You take a deep breath and look up at him, waiting for the anger to take hold in his eyes but it never does.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. For scaring you and not trusting you. I... I lost you for so many years and now I have you back and... I don’t wanna lose you again. But everything I do to try and keep you close, make you mine... all it does is push you further away and I’m sorry.”

His apology takes you by surprise, and you eye him skeptically.

How are you supposed to know if he’s telling the truth?

He drags one of his hands down his face and for a moment you can truly see just how old Steve Rogers is.

The exhaustion of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders finally shows in the lines near his eyes, the bags beneath them. But what really displays his age is his eyes. They’re so full of trauma and pain and weariness.

For the first time since waking up from the ice, Steve Rogers looks his age.

“I-I’m sorry, too,” you whisper, surprising him.

“I didn’t... I wasn’t thinking. I just... I wanted to punish you for what happened to Natasha. What you did. I wanted you to hurt but I just ended up hurting myself in the process.” You look down at your hands, trying to figure out how you want to phrase what you have to say.

“People argue, Steve. But what you do... it’s beyond that. We’re not... there are so many things wrong with what’s happening between us, what’s happened already, but I can’t leave. Sarah’s too attached and all I want for my little girl is to have a happy life. To have the happiness that was torn from me.”

Guilt settles on his chest, but he lets you continue speaking.

“I want my daughter to have a good life. I don’t want her to be afraid of-of people. The way I am. She loves you, and I know... I think you love her. You haven’t hurt her yet, and I hope it stays that way because at the rate we’re going, I'm not sure how much longer I’ll be able to do this.”

The pure fatigue on your face is more than enough explanation, but the idea of losing you is too much for him to bear.

“No, don’t say that. I’m gonna get better, okay? We-we were happy once. And we can do it again. I’ll be gentle and patient. I just... I need you, (Y/n). I need you a lot and the fact that you have such a tight hold over my every thought makes me angry. But I’m not gonna take it out on you anymore, okay?”

You let out a deep breath and eye him carefully.

“You’ve said that before.”

He thinks back to the time you spent in that cabin in the woods, where you turned his friends against him.

He has said that before, and look at where he is now.

“This time it’ll be different.”

You don’t have the energy to fight him. So if he’s gonna try, fine.

“Where’s Sarah?” You ask, hoping she’s still safely out with Morgan.

Steve’s face falls again and he stands up and opens the door to your bedroom.

Sarah sits crumpled in a ball, her cheeks covered in tears.

“Mommy!” She all but screams the word, launching to her feet.

Steve tries to take her hand but she yanks it away from him, shooting him a glare then running to the bed and climbing up beside you.

Your heart breaks when you see how sad she looks, and you hug her to your chest.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay.” She sniffles and climbs onto your lap, climbing to you like her life depends on it.

You wonder what happened while you were unconscious, what Steve did to upset her so much, and your mind immediately goes to the worst.

You look at the man, your thoughts written plainly across your face, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No. I just told her she couldn’t come in. Not ‘till you woke up. She uh... she stayed right outside the door.”

You soothe your daughter, rocking her as much as you can manage with the pain rolling down your spine.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You hold her close to you, trying to calm her down while Steve looks on helplessly.

Although his daughter loves him, loves being here with him, nothing can compare to the bond that the two of you have.

The monster in him hates it. Hates that he’s not as close to his own daughter, blames you for it. But he pushes that part of himself down.

He made a promise. And this time he’s not gonna break it.

~

"Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He asks for the thousandth time.

You only shrug, fixing your hair in the mirror as the doorbell rings.

“It’s a little too late now, Steve. Besides, I don’t really care. Sarah’s gonna have fun and that’s all that matters.”

Your daughter took a few days to warm up to Steve again, but now that she has he’s not gonna risk anything changing that.

He takes one last look at you, at how pretty you look in your blue sundress, then leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“I love you, (Y/n). I can send them away.”

You take a deep breath and shake your head.

“Sarah’s excited. Besides, I wanna know what we’re having.”

You plaster on a forced smile and it breaks his heart, but he turns and heads downstairs to greet the guests.

Ever since you got hurt, he’s been nicer. Far gentler than he's ever been with you, and you’re not complaining.

Steve has the potential to be a good person, that much is obvious, but he chooses not to.

He hasn’t hurt you again, or even yelled at you. No, he’s been patient and understanding and it’s such a sharp contrast from who he was before.

You can hear him greeting the guests warmly, chatting on and on about this and that and whatever else.

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you leave the faux safety of the bedroom and head down the stairs, smiling at your guests.

People that you’ve never seen before are in your house. Well, that’s not true. You’ve seen them on TV.

The Avengers are in your living room and kitchen, talking softly amongst themselves.

In the presence of these superheroes, you feel small. Weak. And you can’t fight the urge to find Steve as anxiety crawls up your spine.

He’s in the kitchen, talking animatedly with Tony Stark and Sam Wilson. Iron Man and Falcon.

He looks so at ease, his face split open with a laidback grin.

Sam’s eyes find yours and he says something to Steve, making the blond turn to you with a soft smile.

He waves you over and you obey, one hand resting delicately on your bump.

“Sam, Tony, this is my (Y/n). (Y/n), Sam and Tony.” You nod politely at them, sliding your clammy hand into Steve's nervously.

You haven’t been around this many people in a very long time.

“It’s nice to finally meet the woman who’s got Captain America so hooked! All he does is talk about you,” Sam says, a grin on his face.

You smile at him, looking up at Steve.

He nods encouragingly, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles to try and ease your anxiety.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I, uh, I’ve heard a lot about you. About both of you.” Tony smiles looking down as someone tugs on his pant leg.

“Can I have a sleepover at Sarah’s house?!” Morgan asks excitedly, her little face full of glee.

“You’re gonna need to go ask your mother. You know she makes all the decisions.”

Tony’s gaze lifts to yours when his daughter runs to find her mom.

“Is it alright if she sleeps over tonight?”

Steve nods then looks at you.

“You alright with that?”

You’re not sure if it’s a real choice or a test, but you don’t want to find out.

“Of course. She’s always welcome here.”

Tony nods with a smile, then resumes whatever conversation they were having before you showed up.

You tune out what they’re saying, carefully rubbing over your stomach and poking at your baby whenever they decide to kick you.

“(Y/n)? Did you wanna help me set the food up outside?” Pepper’s voice breaks you from your trance, her hand coming to rest softly on your shoulder.

You look up at Steve, silently asking for permission, but he just leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips and lets go of your hand.

You follow Pepper, setting up the table in the backyard silently for a while before she clears her throat.

“How are you feeling, (Y/n)? Sarah told us you were sick.”

You swallow hard and give her a tight smile.

“I’m feeling better. Tired all the time but this little devil is to blame for that.” You poke your belly only to be met with another kick.

Pepper nods, smiling at you.

“Are you excited?”

That question throws you for a loop.

Are you? Are you excited to have another baby?

You’re excited for Sarah to have a sibling. Excited to get to hold your baby and love your baby. But the reason why you’re having the baby in the first place? The father of your baby? No.

“Yeah, I am. A little nervous, too.”

She sits down by your garden, patting the seat next to her.

“You look tired, (Y/n). More tired than a mother should be. You’re wearing yourself thin.” You keep your lips sealed, not wanting to say anything that might make Steve mad.

She sighs and sets a gentle hand on your knee.

“I don’t know what your... relationship is with Steve, but I know you’re unhappy. He’s a good guy, deep down. But you need to take care of yourself, okay? Don’t work yourself to the breaking point because it’ll be even harder to build yourself back up. Especially with a brand new baby.”

You let out a shuddering breath and nod.

“It’s just hard. I’m trying but... it’s hard.”

As you talk softly with Pepper, Steve observes the two of you.

You look so sad, so defeated. He hates that he made you look like that.

“She’s unhappy, Steve.”

He turns to the voice, eyebrows raising.

“Wanda. I didn’t know if you’d make it.” He pulls her into a hug. “I heard about what happened in Westview... Wanda, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She sighs, pulling away with a sad smile.

“No. But I will be.” Her eyes travel back over to you for a moment, feeling the pain and the sorrow in your soul.

“Do you think she’ll ever be happy here? With me?” Wanda sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes, feeling your thoughts, your energy.

“It’s hard to tell. Right now she’s so... numb. Nothing but sadness and... hopelessness. Her spirit is crushed, Steve.” She reopens her eyes and turns to the blond.

“You can’t keep her here like this. It’s only a matter of time before she gets fed up and tries to do something drastic. Again.”

Steve knows. He fucking knows that. But he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do to lift your spirits.

He's given you more freedom, let you make more decisions for yourself. He’s been gentler with you, hasn't forced himself on you.

Not forcing himself on you isn’t something to gloat about, but given the history between the two of you, it’s something fairly major.

He just wants to keep you in his life. He needs to keep you in his life.

He turns to the young woman beside him, a thought bubbling into his mind.

“Could you... do something to make her happy? Make her enjoy her life here? Make her love me again?”

Wanda’s mouth curves down as she looks at you, watches you play with your daughter and Morgan.

“Steve, it’s not right.”

The blond lets out a pained breath, shaking his head desperately.

“I just want happiness, Wanda. Don’t I deserve it? Haven’t I suffered enough to deserve a happy ending?”

Wanda’s eyes glow red with sorrow as she’s reminded of her own happy ending that she had to give up.

She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, dropping her gaze for a moment before looking over at his desperate blue eyes.

“We don’t always get what we deserve. It’s hard and it hurts, but we can't control everything. And at some point, we need to let go. No matter how hard it is or how much it hurts. We can’t hurt other people because of what we think we deserve.”

They both look back over to you, your own eyes already on the pair, but dropping as soon as you see them turn to you.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do that.”

Tears stab at his eyes and he huffs out a breath through his nose, turning on his heel and walking away from the party, from his friends.

His abrupt departure catches the attention of a few people, yourself included. Before you can get up and see what’s going on, Bucky’s on his feet and heading into the house.

The woman Steve was talking to makes her way over to you, smiling gently.

“Hi (Y/n). I’m Wanda.” You smile at her, eyes darting towards where Steve disappeared from then back to her.

Bucky re-emerges only a few moments later, shaking his head at Natasha when she gives him a quizzical look.

You turn to Wanda with a strained smile.

“Could you just watch Sarah for a minute? And make sure she has something to eat? The foods ready.” She nods, watching with sad eyes as you walk back into the house to see what’s wrong with Steve.

“Steve?” You call softly, looking around for him only to find him sitting on the couch in the living room, his face in his hands.

“Why can’t I have what I want?” His question catches you off guard and you move to stand in front of him.

He shakes his head sadly, pulling his hands off of his face to grab yours, holding them tightly.

His lips brush over your knuckles gently, before he presses the back of your hands against his forehead, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“This isn’t right.”

Your heart races in your chest, stomach tying in knots as you try to figure out what he’s talking about.

“What are you talking about? Is everything okay? Did... did I do something wrong?” Maybe you shouldn’t have talked to Pepper earlier. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and smiled.

“I can’t keep you here.”

One sentence. Five words. Sixteen letters.

That’s all it takes to have your heart stuttering.

“What... what do you mean you can’t keep me here?” You try your hardest not to let your hopes get too high. Maybe he’s going to kill you. Maybe that’s what it is. It’s certainly something more up his alley than... the alternative.

He slowly raises his head, teary red eyes staring up into yours. 

“You know what I mean.”

You shake your head, needing to hear him say it himself.

“What are you saying, Steve?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and closes his eyes, the words hurting him but he needs to say them.

“You're free to go. You and Sarah.”

The breath gets knocked from your lungs, eyes wide as tears start to blossom. This is a trap. A test. It has to be. There’s no way...

“You’re letting us go?” You ask softly.

He sighs again, nodding as tears find their way down his cheeks.

“Yeah... I guess I am.”

You’re silent, staring at him and waiting for him to tell you it’s a joke, to punish you. But he doesn’t. No, instead he lets go of one of your hands and stands up, his chest almost brushing yours.

“You said I don’t love you... but I do. I love you. Or maybe I love the idea of you, I don’t know. But either way... I hate how sad you are. How sad and afraid I make you. You're free to go wherever you want.”

You’re practically hyperventilating.

After all this time, you never truly thought he’d ever let you go. That he’d have even a shred of decency left inside him.

He cups your hands together and carefully places something inside them, then turns and walks to the front door, grabbing his keys and leaving the house.

You stand silently, staring at the object in your hands until standing becomes too hard and you think you may throw up.

Then you sit down, silent tears trekking down your cheeks.

“(Y/n)?” You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on the couch, staring at your hands, but Natasha’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“(Y/n), are you okay? Where’s Steve?”

You stare up at her then look back down at the tiny, life-changing object in your hands.

“He let us go,” you whisper, your glossy eyes raising to hers again.

She looks half as shocked as you feel.

“What?”

You sniffle then wipe the tears off of your cheeks.

“He’s letting us go,” you repeat, pushing yourself to your feet and holding your bump.

“Really?” You nod, eyes finding the backyard through the kitchen window.

Sarah and Morgan are playing outside with Sam and Wanda.

“What are you gonna do?”

Your heart is so full of confusion, full of pain and hurt.

“I’m gonna go cut the cake, then have a talk with Sarah.” She nods, a small smile on her face.

She heads back outside and you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down before you go out and face Steve’s friends.

You toy with the dainty thing he dropped in your hands before nodding to yourself.

This is what’s right. It’s the right choice for both of you.

You entertain his guests for a few more hours, not wanting to clue them into anything in case they disagree with your decision, with Steve’s.

Only after the presents are given and the cake is almost completely devoured do they finally start to leave.

Wanda helps you tidy up the backyard, writing her phone number down with a soft smile and a whispered ‘if you ever need a friend’.

Everyone bids you goodbye until only Bucky and Nat are left, the metal-armed soldier staring intently at your left hand before a smile spreads across his face.

He surprises you, pulling you into a gentle hug and nodding his head.

“Congratulations, (Y/n).” You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but for some reason, you don’t think it has anything to do with the baby shower.

They leave too, and then you’re virtually alone, Sarah and Morgan asleep upstairs.

After cleaning up every last inch of the house, you head upstairs to go to sleep.

Steve isn’t home until after midnight, long after he lets his tears run dry and his heart stop shattering. It just aches now. Hurts.

He let you go. He really did it.

Deep down he knew this would be the outcome. Either this or your death, but he never wanted to accept it. Refused to admit it to himself.

But seeing Wanda... after all that she’s been through... and she’s still standing strong.

He takes his shoes off and drops his keys on the kitchen counter, freezing in his tracks when he sees the covered plate of cake with his name written on it.

The batter is blue.

A boy.

He’s gonna have a son.

A son that he’ll never get to meet. He’s given you freedom, and he doubts you’ll let him be a part of your child’s life after all that he’s put you through.

He slowly makes his way upstairs, his heart hurting when he sees no sign of your things in the pristine house.

When he pushes open the bedroom door he freezes in his tracks.

There you are, sleeping in his bed. No bags are packed, nothing is out of place, and the dainty diamond ring sits on your finger.

You’ve made your choice, he realizes, his heart jumping for joy in his chest.

He sheds his clothes then climbs into bed with you, wrapping you up in his arms and sighing heavily.

Maybe Wanda was wrong.

Maybe he’ll get his happy ending after all.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things between them deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 5

“Pretty boy, didn’t you hear Hotch? He said we could call it a night,” Morgan poked his head back into the conference room.

“I think I’m gonna stay back and work a few more hours,” Spencer said, staring at the evidence board.

“Kid, you look dead on your feet. Get some rest,” Morgan replied.

Spencer sighed, turning to face Morgan.

“Jo has a tee ball game on Sunday and I really don’t want to miss it. I think I’ve missed enough of her childhood. So, if we can just catch a break on this case in two days then I can prove to her mom that I can be a good dad,” he turned his attention back to the board.

“So you’re finally gonna talk about this secretive family of yours,” Morgan said, taking a seat.

“In my defense, it was a secret from me too,” Spencer turned around to face him.

“Who is the mom? Even Garcia is having trouble finding her,” Morgan leaned forward in his seat curiously.

“Well that would make sense because my name wouldn’t appear on the birth certificate or any other important documents,” he sighed, “Her name is Y/N and we dated in college for a while before I moved here.”

“You still love her, don’t you?” Morgan asked.

Spencer cleared his throat and avoided eye contact.

“Oh my god, you totally do. Pretty Ricky skipped fifty steps in the game of life and now has a wife and kid,” Morgan smirked.

“She is hardly my wife. She is simply tolerating me at the moment which I am grateful for,” Spencer said.

-

“Baby J, come on! We can’t be late! The team can’t be missing their big hitter,” you called up the stairs.

Jo came running down. She had her red baseball cap on and her hair was in two french braids that you had spent all morning trying to get her to sit still to do.

As you were loading up the car, you heard footsteps behind you. You whipped around to see Spencer holding two cups of coffee.

“Hey,” he gave you a slight smile and extended one of the cups forward for you to take.

“Spencer!” Jo shouted as she ran out of the front door, clomping in her little pink cleats.

“Hey kiddo!” Spencer said as he knelt down to her level and opened his satchel, “I brought your mom coffee but I didn’t want you to feel left out so I got you an apple juice.”

“Thank you!” Jo took the drink from Spencer and twisted open the cap, taking a sip.

“Okay we really need to go. We’re already a few minutes behind and your coach likes you to be there early to warm up a little with your friends,” you picked Jo up and plopped her into her car seat, buckling her in.

“Is Henry going to be there?” Jo asked hopefully.

“Yep, Henry will be there,” you replied, turning on the ignition to the car.

“Spencer, Mommy brought me to the park the other day and we practiced hitting so I’m really good now,” Jo beamed.

“I am sure you are. I can’t wait to see you in action. The other team won’t know what hit them,” Spencer smiled and took a sip of his coffee.

When you parked the car, Spencer got out and unbuckled Jo, lifting her out of the seat.

“Okay, I am just going to talk to the coach for a second because I have snack duty next practice so I need to know of any allergies or dietary restrictions. I’ll meet you by the bleachers. I don’t see JJ yet,” you explained.

Spencer nodded and made his way over to the bleachers, sitting a few rows in front of a huddle of moms.

“Of course, here comes Y/N barely on time today. You know she showed up seven minutes late the other day? I think I may pack Timmy a snack in case she forgets she has snack duty next week,” one woman who was in the center of the group said and all the other women laughed.

Spencer clenched his jaw and turned around, “That’s rather rude for a single working mom who’s trying her best, don’t you think?” he snapped.

The woman looked appalled and opened and closed her mouth a few times silently.

Spencer stood and walked over to you as you were headed his way.

“I think we should stand” is all he said.

You noticed the group of moms eyeing you and nodded. You didn’t want to know what they said this time.

“You know Jo was really excited when I told her you were coming to the game today,” you said as you leaned forward against the fence.

“I am running on two hours and nineteen minutes of sleep but this is worth it,” he chuckled.

Before you had a chance to respond, you felt someone lean up against the fence next to you.

“Hey guys, sorry we’re late. Henry was throwing an absolute fit this morning. The only way I got him to get in the car is saying Jo would be there,” JJ explained.

“Jo was asking if Henry would be there in the car,” you laughed.

“Jo’s up to bat!” Spencer excitedly pointed to the home plate which Jo was hovering over with a comically large helmet and a bat she was trying her best to hold up straight.

“Come on, Jo!!!” you all cheered.

Since this was tee ball, the coaches were pitching to the children and they were slowly lobbing the baseballs. But still, the kids had to have good hand-to-eye coordination to hit it.

Jo swung once and missed the ball and looked to you with a frown.

“Hey, it’s alright, Baby J, you’ve got this. Remember eyes on the ball like we practiced,” you encouraged.

Jo swung again and made contact, the ball flying a little past the pitcher’s mound which was pretty good for a kid her age.

“YES JO!” you shouted.

“RUN!!!” Spencer reminded her with a grin, pointing to first base.

Jo ran her heart out to first base, holding the helmet steady on her head so she could see. Once she made it, Spencer gave her a thumbs up and you blew her a kiss.

-

“I think that performance deserves a milkshake,” you chirped as Jo came running toward you after the game ended.

“JJ and Henry, do you want to join us?” you asked.

“Oh we would love to but Will is already cooking dinner at home. Maybe next time,” she smiled.

Once Y/N bent down to pick Jo up, JJ winked at Spencer and mouthed something along the lines of “family time” and Spencer blushed.

“Is the diner down the street okay?” you asked Spencer.

“Of course, let’s go,” he replied.

In the middle of the walk, Jo started to squirm in your arms.

“I wanna have Spencer carry me,” she pouted and made a grabby motion towards Spencer.

Spencer looked at for reassurance, you nodded and transferred Jo into his arms for the rest of the short walk.

The waitress guided you all to a booth in the corner of the room.

“She’s so precious,” the waitress smiled, looking at Jo in Spencer’s arms.

“Thank you,” you butted in.

Once you all had eaten and Jo had slurped up the last of her milkshake, the waitress placed the bill on the table.

You and Spencer both reached for it but he was quicker so his hand ended up under yours.

“Let me pay, Spencer,” you narrowed your eyes, not removing your hand.

“Please let me do this, Y/N. I know you are perfectly capable of paying but please just let me,” he insisted.

“Fine,” you removed your hand from on top of his.

Spencer already missed the familiar warmth of your touch.

“Mommy, is Spencer coming to our movie night?” Jo asked.

“I guess that’s up to him. Tell him what movie we are watching,” you said.

“Lion King!” Jo exclaimed.

“For the five hundredth time,” you muttered under breath.

“Sounds like fun! I’m in,” Spencer replied.

-

About fifteen minutes into the movie, you whispered to Spencer “get up.”

“What?” Spencer whispered back.

All of a sudden, lively music started playing and Jo jumped up from the couch.

“We always needed a Zazu, Mommy!” Jo giggled.

“Okay so Jo is always Simba, I’m Nala, and you’re Zazu the bird,” you explained.

“I don’t know the words. I’ve never seen the movie before,” Spencer panicked.

“Well lucky for you, it’s the sing-along version so the words appear on screen. You’re not getting out of this one,” you laughed.

“I’m going to be a mighty king so enemies beware!” Jo sang.

“Well I’ve never seen a king of beasts with quite so little hair,” Spencer stood up.

“I’m going to be the main event like no king was before. I’m brushing up on looking down and working on my ROAR!” Jo shouted.

“Thus far a rather uninspiring thing,” Spencer teased.

“Oh I just can’t wait to be king!” Jo bounced around on the couch.

“You have a rather long way to go, young master. If you think-” Spencer jokingly scolded.

“No one saying do this!” Jo interrupted.

“No one saying be there!” you sang.

“No one saying stop that!” Jo sang back.

“No one saying see here!” you both harmonized.

“Now see here!” Spencer shouted.

“Free to run around all day,” Jo began to dance circles around the couch.

“Well that’s definitely out,” Spencer said, chasing after her.

“Free to do it all my way” she giggled as she began to run faster.

The three of you continued to sing and dance along to the rest of the movie. However, by the time the credits began to roll, Spencer and Jo were both out cold. Jo was curled up in his lap.

You snapped a quick photo of the two of them on your phone and then draped a blanket over them and rested your head against the back of the couch, not having the energy to go upstairs to your own room.

[agent--swan]

Close to Home

In which the reader interrogates a suspect and is reminded of some shit.

One of these days I’ll write a decent Criminal Minds fic.

Well, I’ve got some personal bullshit going on, so here! Have a self-indulgent angst fic! As if I haven’t written enough of these already. (See: @swan--writes.) You can also find this fic on AO3.

Warnings: childhood trauma, emotional/psychological abuse, all offscreen, Hotch is an angsty boy who cares about his team, show-typical violence, Swan-typical language

Words: ~1,420

Other Stuff: reader is gender neutral but was raised as a daughter, you could read this as Hotch x Reader but it could easily be read as platonic

The first time Hotch noticed was on a case.

He wishes that the first time he noticed wasn’t on a case.

He wishes that it had happened on a relaxed day, when there was nothing going on but consults and reports and accounts and logging. He wishes that the rest of the team had been so busy with paperwork that they wouldn’t notice him pulling you into his office to sit down and talk about it. In retrospect, even he could admit that there were benefits to not being at Quantico, and therefore not having a private office to pull you into. There was more time to think about what he wanted to say – to be gentle.

You were on a case somewhere in the Midwest, but neither of you would remember exactly where even two months after it was over. The unsub was attacking teenaged girls. The unsub’s type was specific: ages between fourteen and seventeen, brown hair, brown eyes, most of the girls had freckles, and all of them were chubby. That seemed important to the unsub. It made you see red. You only had one survivor – your only material witness – but she was holding back, feigning memory loss. Morgan was certain that the cognitive troubles she was having weren’t genuine, but he had no way of proving it. That was his pet project while you were on the case.

Reid was on the geographic profile as always. JJ had her hands full with the media circus, teenaged girls always got extra attention. Rossi was leaning pretty hard on the principal of the school that all three of your victims had attended, along with your one attempted victim. Prentiss was covering the guidance counselors. The school had three. She had her hands full. You did not envy her.

That left you to speak with the mother of the attempted victim. Hotch had asked you to handle her before the jet even landed, and you had readily agreed. It was the first time he had handed you your own angle since you’d joined the team just a few months earlier, and you felt more than capable. You were good with mothers, Hotch knew that.

Hotch had never tried to limit your role in investigations, not even in the beginning. He knew that you were capable when you joined the team, and he saw that you were a fast learner. He wasn’t cautious with you, didn’t watch you too closely, didn’t take you under his wing. Hotch let you do your thing and facilitated where necessary. It wasn’t often necessary, you fit right in.

So, Hotch asked you to talk to the mother, and you thought nothing of it. Until you started asking her questions.

It was subtle at first. She was defensive of her daughter, and defensive of her parenting. You understood that, it wasn’t uncommon. What was uncommon was the way she seemed to interpret your questions. “Why did you insist she only apply to in-state schools?” became, in her mind, “Why are you holding her back?” “Why do you limit her social life?” became, “Why are you isolating her?” The less accusatory you tried to sound, the more her hackles raised. It wasn’t entirely unjustified, every time you walked out of the interrogation room you learned something new about the way she had held her daughter back or isolated her.

You started leaving the mother in the interrogation room by herself for longer and longer stretches of time, though never an unprofessional length of time. You were careful about that. It was just that you were finding it harder and harder to catch your breath. The tinnitus in your left ear seemed to be growing steadily worse, and you couldn’t force your hands to stop shaking. That wasn’t when Hotch noticed it, though. He asked if you were alright once but dropped it when you told him you were.

Finally, Rossi cut the principal loose and Prentiss came back to the station. You were in interrogation when the others realized who the unsub was.

Surprise, surprise, it was the mother of the survivor.

Morgan had been right. Your survivor did remember who attacked her and was terrified to admit that it had been her mother. In the survivor’s mind, her mother was a huge, tyrannical figure who could talk her way out of anything. Even a murder investigation.

The rest of the team gathered around the one-way mirror and watched as you and the mother of the survivor – as you and the unsub – zeroed in on each other. Reid wondered aloud if they should intervene, but Hotch insisted on waiting. Hotch watched you closely. Later, he would wonder if he had been watching you more out of interest than a genuine belief that you could get a confession out of this unsub. He would feel badly about that.

You were standing. The unsub was seated. You were leaned over her and shouting. She was watching you with venom in her eyes, and though you held firm, Hotch notice the way you were pressing your hands into the table. The way you slid photographs toward her instead of picking them up and dropping them in front of her; a more aggressive move that any of the rest of the team would have used.

“You couldn’t stand it, could you?” you asked while the unsub openly glared at you, her jaw set, her expression stern. “You couldn’t stand the idea that your daughter would never be you. She was never going to stay at home and be mommy’s perfect little helper, she was never going to forget about the pain you caused her. You gave her everything?” You shook your head. “Well, she took it, and she learned how to be a decent goddamn human, and instead of letting her grow and maybe, I don’t know, being proud of her? You insisted–” you slammed the table right beside a photograph of some of your survivor’s worse injuries “–on making her pay for your bullshit.”

You were shouting right in the unsub’s face when she lunged with an enraged cry. The team moved as one to back you up.

The unsub managed to scratch your face before you could react. You managed to get her hands behind her back and pressed forward against the wall by the time Morgan and Prentiss reached you.

“Get her out of here!” Hotch commanded.

“After everything ungrateful little leech put me through, she got exactly when she deserved,” the unsub spat.

Hotch didn’t spare the unsub more than half a glance, he just went straight to you. You had never heard his voice so soft as when he asked if you were alright. He moved to wipe away some of the blood trickling warmly down your face, but you pulled away before he could and insisted you were fine. Of course you did.

The case ended there, four victims deep but one still alive. It was a relative victory and the team treated it as one. They chatted comfortably on the ride back, but not you. You curled up on the couch at the back of the jet, facing away from everyone. You didn’t have a book, you didn’t have your headphones in. You just lay there with your eyes closed, fighting tears that you tried very hard to blame on your migraine. Your head killed; your heart hurt. As horrific as parents hurting their children always was, there was something about this case – something about a mother and a daughter – that was more painful, more personal, and hit even closer to home for you.

You couldn’t help thinking about how the unsub had killed three people but hadn’t killed her own daughter. You wondered what that meant. You wondered if it meant anything.

You stayed still at first when you felt someone sit down at your feet. They didn’t move for a long time, and when you finally gave in and opened your eyes, you saw Hotch. He looked at you with more concern injected into his normal frown, and there was something in his face that was gentler than usual. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t try to comfort you. He just watched you, watched the tears gather at the corners of your eyes, watched as one made its way down your cheek like blood dripping from a wound. You knew you looked miserable, but you watched him right back, and you knew he understood. He did.

.

.

Please reblog if you’re comfy with it

If there’s any interest I’ll make a tags list

[scuttling]

Perfect

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 6,154 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Daddy Kink, Daddy Training, Dom/sub, Dry Humping, Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Dirty Talk, Oral Fixation, Subspace, Aftercare, Multiple Orgasms, Established Aaron/Sophie Summary: Two weeks after the events of 'Present,' Aaron plans another surprise—this time for Spencer and Sophie. Collection: Part 2 of 5 of Present, Perfect, Patient, Promise, Pretend series Note: This is a previously published work from A03, just moving it over to tumblr. Link to A03 or read below! Spencer is sitting at his desk working on a consultation, in his own little world, when a perfect denim-covered butt comes to rest on his case file, thighs spread in front of his face. His mouth falls open, and he looks up at Sophie. She’s grinning, cherry red lollipop in hand. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, and he looks around the bullpen, panicked, but miraculously, they’re alone.

“Food truck today, everyone’s at lunch. I was in Aaron’s office, but he had to take a call; thought I’d come say hi.” Her fingers reach out to brush over his lips. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You look really cute today, all tie-d up.” Her fingers slide down to wrap around it. “Can I kiss you?” He nods, and she bends down to press her mouth to his, humming against it. “Aaron said I could ask you to spend the night tonight. Or, all weekend, if you’re free.” She sits up properly, slides the lollipop into her mouth, sucks on it. He licks his lips, and she pulls it out, smiles. “Are you free?”

“Extremely,” he answers, and he wraps his hand around her calf, half-stands so he can have another kiss. They’re being bold, even if everyone is at lunch, but he likes it.

“I take it he said yes.” Spencer curses and pulls back, but Sophie just laughs. It’s only Aaron.

“He did. I think he likes us.”

“I know he likes us,” Aaron replies, voice low, and Spencer’s head is almost spinning with how fast they’ve turned him on. He comes to stand beside them, and Sophie looks up at him, swipes her tongue over the lollipop, and then presses it to Spencer’s mouth. He sucks it in, wraps his tongue around it, and when she pulls it out with a pop, Aaron groans. “Fuck.”

“That’s the plan,” Sophie says, cheeky, and he leans in, presses his fingers to her jaw, tilts her head up so she’s making eye contact.

“You don’t make the plans, sweet girl. I do. Do you want to know what the plan is?” She nods as best as she can, and when Aaron looks to Spencer, he nods too. “You like being dominated by me. You like having a daddy who tells you what you can and can’t do.” Spencer swallows hard, because he knew about the dominating, but he didn’t know about the daddy thing. His dick throbs. “But wouldn’t it be something if I let you have two daddies? Two daddies to order you around, to fill you up, to tease you until your pussy is so wet you make a mess of everything?”

Sophie whines, spreads her legs further apart, and Aaron drops his hand to squeeze hard at her thigh.

“If Spencer wants to learn, baby, I’m going to teach him how to be your daddy this weekend. He’s had a taste of you, but he’s going to find out just how dirty and needy my little slut really is.”

“I want to learn,” he says quickly, practically tripping over his own tongue to do so. Sophie takes a couple of shallow breaths, and he’s suddenly so aware of how thin her t-shirt is, how he can see her nipples even through her bra. How fucking perfect she is.

“He wants to learn. Does that sound good, precious girl?” She closes her eyes, wets her lips, and Aaron caresses her face.

“Yes, daddies.”

Fuck.

“Good girl. Time to get down; everyone will be coming back soon.” He puts his hands on her waist, helps her to her feet. His fingers wrap around her hand, the one with the lollipop, and he guides it to her mouth, pushes it inside. “You can come sit in my office and suck on that until you calm down. Give Spencer a hug.” She does, puts her arms around him, and he reciprocates, inhaling sharply when she presses against his erection; she steps back, looks down at it, looks up at Aaron. “It’ll have to wait, sweetheart. We don’t have time. Spencer understands.” He presses his hand to Spencer’s back, and he exhales, nods.

“I understand. It’s okay,” he tells her, and when he touches her cheek, she closes her eyes, sighs. “You go calm down. I’ll see you in a little while.” Aaron moves his hand to his arm, squeezes him, and then he leads Sophie up the stairs to his office. The rest of the team files back into the bullpen so suddenly it’s almost alarming; not even a full minute has passed. He sits back down, tips his head back, and blows out a breath.

“What’s going on with you, Reid?” Morgan asks as he and Prentiss take their seats. “You missed lunch.”

“I guess my mind is on other things,” he says offhand, and it is an incredible understatement. Aaron texts Spencer, tells him to come over at 7 and to come hungry, and he and Sophie make mushroom risotto, to be served with French bread and white wine.

He may be trying to woo him a little, since the last time he spent the night was quick and frantic and ended with pizza in bed before an equally hurried round two. He deserves some romance, if they’re going to continue this, make it more than just a thing, as Sophie calls it. He’s never been in a relationship with two people at once, never thought he would want to, and he wants to be sure he does things right.

He takes off his jacket but stays in his work clothes; no sense changing out of them when they’ll be removed soon enough. He does choose a new outfit for Sophie, though: it’s a lavender colored, transparent, lacy babydoll dress—lingerie, really—with matching panties, though he doesn’t let her wear them. He wants to see the look on Spencer’s face when he realizes she’s practically naked already.

“You’re a little bit evil,” Sophie says when he tells her to remove them, gives her his reasoning, but she takes the panties back off and tosses them at his face.

“You love me, though,” he says, setting them on the counter, and she grins, wicked, and sidles up to him for a slow, lingering kiss.

“Yeah, I do, handsome.” They kiss a little longer, and he lifts her up onto the counter so he can keep his hand on her while he stirs the risotto, knows she likes to be gently touched as much as possible before the kind of playing they’re going to do tonight. He gently trails his fingertips over her thighs, earning happy sighs, and when the doorbell rings, she looks up at him, clearly excited. It’s so cute. “Want me to get the door, or take over stirring?”

“You stir, baby. I’ll go get him.” He leans in for a kiss, and she smiles into it, pulls back looking affectionate and sweet.

He can’t wait for them to wreck her.

“Hi,” Spencer greets a little nervously when he opens the door. He’s holding a small bouquet of white flowers, still in his work clothes, too, and he looks just... perfect. “Jasmine. I remember Sophie said they were her favorite, once.” Aaron smiles, and he leans in to kiss him soft and slow.

“She’ll love them. You’re very thoughtful, Spencer. That’s how I know I can trust you with her.” His answering nod is serious, and his eyes are wide.

“Of course you can. Of course.” He ushers him in, and when he sees Sophie on the counter, leaning over to stir the risotto in her tiny little dress, he swallows audibly. She turns, and her eyes light up when they fall on the both of them.

“Hi, Spencer.” Aaron guides him over to her, bends to kiss her mouth, and then she kisses Spencer. He grabs a vase to put the flowers in while they greet each other. “Mmm, flowers?” she asks when they separate, and he touches her face while he fills the vase at the sink.

“Jasmine. He remembered they’re your favorite. Do you want to smell?” She nods, and he tips them toward her, earning a deep, happy inhale.

“God, they smell so good. Thank you.” The smile she gives Spencer is brilliant, and Aaron feels really happy. He’s only been here five minutes and it already feels like something good.

“I’ll finish dinner, sweet girl,” he says, coming to take the spoon from her with a kiss. “Can you tell Spencer daddy’s rules for tonight?” She straightens a little, her posture less relaxed, but she does wind her arms around Spencer's neck.

“Yes, daddy. First rule is no panties,” she explains, and it makes his eyes fall to her lap, his tongue flick over his lips. Aaron smirks privately. “I have to be patient while we eat dinner, and after, while we relax, but I am allowed to hump daddy’s thigh—both daddies’ thighs.”

“That’s a good rule,” he murmurs, looking a little dazed. It’s a great look on him, and Aaron absently wonders how submissive he could make him, if he’d like that, too.

“All of daddy’s rules are good rules. He’s smart and takes care of me when I’m too needy to think for myself.” That earns her a soft kiss on the nose from Aaron, and her answering smile is lovely. “I have to come on each daddy’s cock at least once. You get to decide if I’m allowed to come from something else as well.”

“We’ll talk more about that later,” he promises Spencer, who nods. He leans in for a kiss, because he looks horny and overwhelmed and adorable. “Continue please.”

“Yes, daddy. We all need to be honest about what we like and don’t like. If the thought of something makes you feel bad, you stop and tell daddy. Aaron. We won’t ever be disappointed, we promise.”

“There are some things she and I may like that you won’t, or maybe some things the two of you will like that I won’t. If we already know, we’ll tell you that.”

“I can confidently say that this is much more intense than anything I’ve done before, so I may not know,” he says, unsure. Aaron grabs potholders and takes the pan off the stove, plates their food.

“That’s absolutely fine. If something you see interests you, or you think of something, speak up. I’m happy to talk you through it. I wasn’t intense either, until I met Sophie.”

“I bring out the latent daddy in the men I like,” she says with a wink. “You still want to do this, though?” she asks, confirming. “It’s okay if this isn’t for you.”

“I think it’s for me,” he says quietly. “I know you two are.” That gets him hugs and kisses from the both of them, with Aaron wrapping his arms around him from behind and pressing his lips to his cheek. Sophie leans forward, kisses him deeply, soulfully.

“Good. You’re for us, too,” Aaron speaks into his ear with certainty. “Let’s eat, and we can talk more while we relax.”

Dinner is good, with soft laughter and affectionate looks from the both of them, at him and at each other. He’d placed the vase of jasmine on the table, and he can tell looking at it turns Sophie on; she loses her mind over sweet gestures like that.

When the table has been cleared, dishwasher humming in the background, they go into the living room to relax with another glass of wine—for Aaron and Spencer only, because Sophie had her half a glass with dinner, and that’s all she can have before play.

They sit on the couch, Aaron then Sophie then Spencer, talking about nothing in particular, and he smooths his hand up Sophie’s thigh, tries to judge how horny she is by the way she responds. Spencer is talking about biology, something Aaron can’t follow, but she is listening intently, her eyes on his face; when Aaron’s hand creeps up her leg, though, closer and closer to her bare pussy, she moans softly.

“I’m sorry, Spencer, go ahead,” she apologizes, but he’s blinking in confusion, and then he sees the hand pushing up her dress and it looks like he suddenly understands the reason for the interruption. “Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

“It’s okay, really,” he says, wetting his lips, and Aaron gets a brilliant idea.

“Why don’t you sit on his thigh and hump while he finishes his story, sweet girl? You can face him.” He looks to Spencer, to make sure that’s okay, and he nods, opens his arms for Sophie. She takes his hand, but turns back to kiss Aaron softly on the lips before sliding her knees around either side of his right thigh. Aaron takes the spot she previously occupied, so he can be closer to both of them. “Go ahead, Spencer.”

He swallows, puts his hands on Sophie’s hips over her clothes, and continues his story while she grinds against his leg, slowly at first. She remains focused, interested—he knows she enjoys being his outlet sometimes, when others won’t give him the chance—for several minutes longer than he’d expected, but at some point she gives in, releases another soft, needy moan, clutches at his arms.

“Good girl, rubbing on your daddy while he talks to you. He’s very smart, and it turns you on when a daddy talks about things you don’t understand, doesn’t it?” She shivers at the sound of his voice, humps faster.

“Yes, daddy. I have two very good, very handsome, very smart daddies, and it makes me so wet.”

“I bet it does, baby, and you aren’t wearing panties. Are you making a mess of your daddy’s thigh?”

“Yes, such a mess. I’m sorry, daddy,” she says directly to Spencer, the first time she’s addressed only him that way, and he can see in his eyes that he’s a fucking goner. He’s so into it, even if he’s nervous, even if he’s shy. He’s at least sure, now.

“That’s okay, baby,” Spencer says, tentative, like the word is new for him. “I know you’re needy. It’s okay, keep rubbing.” She pants at his words, works her hips harder.

“Yes, daddy. Do you want me to come, daddy? Or do you want me to stop myself?” He looks over at Aaron, who puts his hand on the thigh Sophie isn’t riding.

“It’s up to you. Either is good with me. And she’ll take whatever we give her, won't you, sweetheart?” She moans, nods frantically.

“Yes, I’ll take whatever my daddies give me. They decide when and where I get to come, if my pussy is empty or if there are fingers or a cock inside it.”

“Fuck,” Spencer groans, and he holds tighter to her hips. “You can come baby, come for daddy.”

“Put your thumb in her mouth,” Aaron directs, and he presses one against her lips; she moves her fingers from his arm to his hand and holds it close, sucks and humps for another ten or fifteen seconds before coming, moaning around his thumb. He watches, rapt, as she loses it, and Aaron gets it—having her come on his tongue was one thing, during intercourse another, but watching the woman they know is strong, smart, formidable, just come completely and gorgeously undone at their request to hump his thigh? It’s something else entirely.

Spencer pulls her close, kisses her deep and wet, and when he breaks the kiss he urges Aaron closer, so he can kiss her too. “Good girl, Sophie. You did so good, listening to your daddies’ commands. We’re so proud of you.” He runs his hand over the arm closest to him, is happy to see that Spencer catches on, does the same with the other side. “When our baby girl does really well for us, she likes to hear it, and she likes to feel gentle hands so she doesn’t get too fuzzy and lose herself before we’re done playing.”

“Sure, of course,” Spencer says, nodding, and he knows he’s committing it to memory. “That was perfect, Sophie. We’re so proud of you.” He smooths his hands up over her throat, and she hums happily.

“Come over here, now, sweet girl. I want to see how wet you made daddy.” She reaches for him, and Spencer gives her up—not easily, he thinks. He looks so attached to her already, and it’s incredible, to see the things he’s felt happen to himself, happen to someone else.

Spencer’s pants are gray, so the dark, wet patch on his thigh looks all that much more indecent; Spencer tips his head back, runs his hands through his hair, licks his lips, and Aaron can’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t worry; we have a really good relationship with our dry cleaner." After the thigh-riding thing, Spencer is probably more desperate to come than Sophie was. He never imagined himself as someone a woman would call daddy—he’s young, but more importantly not experienced, or confident, or classically, painfully handsome like Aaron, so the thought never even crossed his mind, but… It is an intoxicating, addicting feeling, one he wants to chase until they wise up and kick him out of their bed.

And learning about it all from Aaron, who is so knowledgeable, and firm, and careful with her? It’s got him so hard it’s almost embarrassing.

They’ve moved to the bedroom, and Sophie is content to watch them kiss each other, grope each other, take each other’s clothes off. He thinks they both felt a rush from watching her fall apart, can almost taste it on Aaron’s lips.

Her little, purple, see-through dress stays on, and he almost likes it better that way. For now, at least.

“What should we do next?” Aaron asks, breathless after kissing. “Do you want to fuck her? Want me to fuck her? Or should we tease her some more? With our fingers?” It’s so hard to choose, because he’s so ready to come, but he thinks he can wait, wants to see more of what they can do to her.

“Fingers,” he decides, his voice rougher than he’d anticipated, because that’s something he’s wanted to see since he ate her pussy the last time. Aaron nods, looking pleased.

“She loves to be filled up with fingers. She’s such a perfect girl, because one is enough to make her come, but she can probably take three of yours if you want her to. Isn’t that right, baby? You’re a desperate slut for your daddy’s fingers.” She is sitting on the bed, propped up with her hands behind her, and she nods, swallows.

“Yes, I'm a desperate slut for daddy’s fingers.” Spencer’s heart rate jumps at hearing her recite the words back, and again, it’s not something that ever crossed his mind, but now he needs to test it out at some point.

“Sophie likes ‘slut’ because that’s how her daddies make her feel; like she could just be bent over and fucked for days and it wouldn’t be enough,” Aaron murmurs in his ear. It makes him shiver.  “It’s a little smoother when you say, ‘a slut for daddy’ or ‘a slut for daddy’s cock’—make it possessive. She doesn’t like ‘whore.’” He presses another kiss to his lips before heading for the bed.

“Hi, daddy,” Sophie says when he reaches her, and she puts her arms around his neck, kisses him happily. “I’m getting fingers? Am I supposed to come on them?”

“Let’s ask daddy,” he says, and Spencer joins them, earns his own warm greeting and kiss.

“Hi, daddy. Am I supposed to come on the fingers?”

“Remember the rules,” Aaron reminds him gently. “She has to come on each of our cocks, and she came on your thigh. That’s three. She can do four, if you want. If we take a break in between, she can probably come six or seven times in a night, but she’ll be damn near useless the next day. That would be saved for something special.” Spencer nods, files that away. Seven orgasms. She deserves a day in bed after that. He gets tired after one.

“Uh. No, no coming on the fingers. I just want to play with you, feel how wet you are for us.” She nods seriously.

“Okay daddy, no coming. I’ll try really hard.” Her tongue peeks out, swipes over her bottom lip.

“What do you say when you’re getting close, sweetheart?” Aaron asks her, and she frowns.

“I say, ‘that's enough, daddy,’ and then you stop.”

“That’s right, because good girls don’t come unless daddy says to, and daddy said no.” He starts to feel kind of bad for denying her, but Aaron touches his face, kisses him. “This is okay. We have to tell her no sometimes. She’s good at this, I promise.”

“Okay,” he breathes, and he touches her throat, her face. “Can we take this off?” he asks of her dress, changing his mind, and Aaron smiles softly.

“You’re her daddy, you can do whatever you want.” Spencer exhales, feels like he needs to defer to Aaron because he always has, but this is different, and he knows that.

“Arms up, sweet girl,” he says, and she makes it easier for him to pull off the dress. Aaron hands him a pillow, and he lays her back on it, so her head and neck are supported. “Remember, no coming. Tell me if you need me to stop.”

“Yes, daddy.” He leans up for a kiss and slides one finger inside her; she is soaking wet, and he meets no resistance at all. It’s incredibly hot. “Yes, daddy, your finger is so deep inside me.” He closes his eyes for a second, because that’s hot too.

“Yes it is, baby girl. Deep inside your achy little pussy.” She nods, flushed and eager.

“‘M achy for you, daddy.”

Aaron curls himself along her side, stroking her hair and kissing her skin, and after a minute or so of teasing her with one finger, Spencer presses in another alongside it.

“Oh, mmm.” She thrashes her head a little, and Aaron shushes her softly. “But daddy. It feels so good.”

“I know baby, but remember, you can’t come. We don’t want daddy to have to discipline you already.” She looks down at him, where he’s thrusting his fingers inside, and squeezes her eyes shut. Her chest is heaving.

“But daddy is so handsome and good, and his fingers feel good. I wanna come on them.” Aaron looks at him, and he works hard to find some resolve; he knows he can’t give in now, has to stand his ground. It’s what Aaron would do.

“No coming, baby. Listen to daddy.” She sighs, and he slows his hand, teasing a little more. “I know you’re desperate to come on daddy’s fingers, but you’ll have to wait for my cock. Can you do that?”

“Yes, I can wait, daddy. Can wait for your big cock to push inside me so deep. I can wait.” She sounds almost frantic, repeating herself, but Aaron is just soothing her gently, so it must be okay.

“Good girl, yes you can. You’re going to make your daddies proud.” She arches up when Spencer says it, reaches for Aaron’s hair, tugs it.

“I’m your good girl, daddy? Promise?” Fuck. That shouldn’t sound as good as it does. He covers her breast with his free hand, squeezes it, and very carefully adds a third finger.

“Yes, you’re my good girl, baby. Taking daddy’s fingers, waiting so patiently to come. You’re perfect, sweetheart.” She’s wet enough that his three fingers slide in and out easily, and he moans as he watches them. “Fuck, Sophie. So good, so good for daddy.”

“Look at daddy, baby girl,” Aaron coos, and Sophie hums. “Look at how good he looks with his hand between your legs. He’s incredible. Tell him.”

“So incredible, daddy. He’s such a good daddy already, makes me dumb and needy and horny. I want him.” Spencer’s so hard he feels like he could pass out. He presses his cheek to her knee, kisses her there.

“When you’re close, baby, tell me and I’ll put my cock in you. You won’t be a bad girl, I promise.” Aaron reaches out a hand, puts it in his hair, comforting him. He knows he’s going off script, but he must be doing something good. “Tell me baby, when you’re very close.”

“Yes daddy, I’ll tell you, thank you. I want it so bad.” She rocks against his hand, hard, several times taking him down to the knuckle. “Oh, daddies, please.”

“Please what, Sophie? Needy, whiny little slut for your daddies. Please what?” Aaron moans, Sophie moans, Spencer moans; she’s being called needy, but they’re all a mess at this point, and it makes him a little proud, to be honest. He’s a quick learner even when it comes to this.

“Please daddy, that’s enough, I need your dick, please.”

He carefully pulls out his fingers, pushes down one of her thighs with his wet hand, hooks the other leg over his shoulder, and slides inside, bottoming out with a groan. Sophie cries out in pleasure, grabs for him, and he fucks her and kisses her with lots of tongue.

“Yes, yes, daddy, harder,” she pants, and Aaron touches the both of them with strong hands.

“Settle, baby, it’s okay,” he murmurs, rubbing over her breasts. “Daddy will get you there, just be good for him. Almost time.”

“But I need it, daddy, I need it.” She tosses her head back, and she’s full on begging, which shouldn’t make him feel so good, but it does.

“She’s a fucking mess,” Aaron says, affectionately. “Rub her clit, okay? You can’t beat the combination of clit and tits when you need to get her off fast.” He leans in, sucks at her nipple, and Spencer rubs tight circles against her clit until she comes so loudly he fears a noise complaint. She is still shivering through it when he leans forward, puts his hands on her waist, and pumps a few times until he comes as well, his sweaty face pressed against her leg.

Now that she’s got what she’s been begging for, she’s soft and sappy again, and she pushes his hair back, touches his cheek. “I have the best daddies in the whole world,” she sighs, reaching for Aaron, too, and he huffs a laugh.

“See how she goes from desperate, horny monster to sweet baby girl in like five seconds flat? It might be intense, but it’s the best sex you’ll ever have.”

“Yeah, no I got that,” Spencer says, panting. It was, by far. His other encounters pale in comparison. “Good girl, you did perfectly for me,” he praises, switching his attention back to Sophie. Aaron still needs to come, so they need her to be present. “I filled you up, came deep inside. You liked that, baby.”

“Yes, daddy, I liked that. So big inside me. I’m full of your come.” He blows out a long breath, because even though he’s completely spent, her words hit him right in the dick.

“Is there room for daddy to come in your little pussy too? He’s been waiting for you.” Her eyes linger on his face, then turn to look at Aaron’s, and she reaches out a hand to touch his cock.

“Yes, I always have room for daddy. I always want daddy to come in me.” Aaron moves his hand to cover hers, helps her stroke him, and she bites her lip. “Do you have a plan, daddy?” Aaron gives her a dark, serious look, and he can see it makes her eyes light up with hunger again.

“I always have a plan, baby. This one involves daddy.” He kisses Spencer with a hand on the back of his neck, and it makes him melt a little. He may be one of Sophie’s daddies now, but Aaron will always have a little dominance over him, and he’s really so okay with that. “Lay back for me?” Spencer does as asked, up against the pillows, and Aaron scoots up, guides Sophie there too. “Now you climb up on daddy, hands and knees.”

“On top of daddy?” she asks, like she’s confused, and he lays her on his body, situates her arms and legs the way he wants them, so she’s hovering over him, ready to be taken from behind. “Oh, god.”

“Yes, baby, you’re going to love this. Daddy is close enough to kiss and touch, but you’ll probably just whimper and moan on top of him and rub your little clit against his cock, get it hard again. You’re such a needy slut for your daddies, even after two orgasms, aren’t you?”

“So needy for my daddies, so slutty,” she agrees, and Spencer catches her lips in a kiss, can’t help himself. He’s breathing hard.

“You’ll be a good girl for me while daddy fucks you, won’t you, baby?” he asks, and she nods seriously.

“Yes daddy, I’ll be so good, I promise.” Aaron gets behind her, plants his hands around where Spencer’s shoulders are.

“I need daddy’s help with this,” he says, but he’s looking at Spencer. He picks up one of Spencer’s hands, presses it against Sophie’s thigh so he’s pinning her up against Aaron, holding her in place. To say that's hot is an extreme understatement; he puts his other hand on the other side. “You’re allowed to come, baby girl, but if this feels like too much, what do you say?”

“I say, ‘enough, daddy,’” she murmurs, looking back at him.

“Right, sweet girl, because even when we’re playing, when you tell me it’s enough I’ll stop right away and hold you until we figure out what went wrong.”

“Yes, daddy, because you love me.” He knows that, of course, but it’s the first time love has been said aloud, and it makes him wonder if he does. If he should. How he’ll know.

“Yes baby, I love you, but even if we weren’t in love, I respect you, and I care about you, and it's the right thing to do: that’s why we stop when you say enough.” Spencer thinks maybe that was a roundabout way of easing his mind, of saying it’s okay if he doesn’t love them, yet.

He’s suddenly a little more jealous of Sophie. He kind of wants Aaron for a daddy. He has a way of always saying just the right thing. “Good girl, being fucked so hard by daddy,” Spencer murmurs, holding Sophie against Aaron while he pounds inside her. Her fingers are fisted in the sheets, but there is no pain, only pleasure as she moves her hips quickly back and forth, her breathing hard. “Perfect, beautiful girl.”

“Thank you, daddy,” she breathes, her clit sliding up and down the length of Spencer’s cock while she bucks back against Aaron’s. “Thank you daddies for helping me come, and get full of daddy’s come.”

“You’re welcome, sweet girl,” Aaron pants into her ear. She’s so fucking good at this. “Your daddies love getting you off. You’re so pretty when you beg and whine and moan.”

“So pretty,” Spencer agrees, pressing harder against her thighs, and she whimpers, her legs shaking. “Everything okay, baby?”

“Yes, I just… it feels so good. What if I need to come twice? Am I allowed?” Aaron nips at her ear, starts fucking faster.

“Yes baby, come now. Come for your daddies right now.” Spencer sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, looking dazed and a little curious, like he’s not sure that will actually work. Aaron isn’t sure either.

Sophie does come, groaning, short, surprised sounds of pleasure, rubbing against Spencer’s half-hard cock just like his thigh earlier, and yeah, that’s his perfect, obedient girl. He grins.

“Good girl.” His words are full of pride, and he pulls her hair to the side, kisses her shoulder. “We’ve been practicing that, haven’t we sweetheart? It’s only happened one other time.”

“Yes daddy,” she mumbles, head down as he fucks her. “Thank you daddy.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, baby girl. You earned that. So good for us.” He grunts, gets close—her body's obedience drives him insane—and he presses up from his hands and knees to just his knees, puts his hands on her hips and works her hard with, short, quick thrusts.

“Oh, oh, daddy, yes, please.” She arches her back, fucks against him even though their hands are stronger, doing it better. “Daddies, oh, fuck. Your baby girl is being used so good, so close to being filled up.” Her voice is weak, and high, and Spencer looks up at him like he’s worried, but he just shakes his head. She gets like this, she can handle it.

“Yes baby, you’re being used by your daddies because that’s what we do. We fuck your tight pussy and your mouth and your ass, and you just take it, baby.” Sophie moans, loud and wanton, and he’s so close to losing it, and Spencer, gorgeous, perfect Spencer, presses two long fingers into her mouth.

Aaron is careful not to make any jerky movements, and she sucks on the fingers, whines around them, and when he comes, clutching her hips tight, she moans high, loud, lets the fingers fall out of her mouth; the final sound she makes is a cry, and he can’t tell if it’s pleasure or overstimulation.

“Have you had enough?” he asks her as he grinds against her, and she shakes in their hands, comes again. Her legs have given up, and she’s flat against Spencer, who looks like he just witnessed something incredible. Aaron figures he did.

“Enough, daddy,” she sighs, and he pulls out, watches his come drip out of her and onto Spencer’s balls. It’s a visual he’s going to have to reflect on later, to see if he can plan for it again in the future.

“You did so amazing,” he coos into her ear, running his hands up and down her back. Spencer is doing the same, and though it’s clear they’re losing her, she hums at their touches. “So perfect for us. We couldn’t ask for a better girl.”

“You’re so good, baby. So good for your daddies,” Spencer murmurs, and he looks over at Aaron. “I think she needs some water. I don’t want to move her.” Aaron smiles, kisses his lips.

“That’s part of aftercare for Sophie. I’ll get her some and then I’ll tell you all about it,” he promises.

On his way back from getting the water, he gets a warm, wet washcloth from the bathroom, wipes at her pussy while Spencer presses the cup to her lips. When she’s had a few sips, looks a bit livelier, he gets her to roll over onto the bed on her back, cleans up the front of her.

“Sophie likes to be held, and gently cleaned up—sometimes she wants a bath or shower, and she’ll say that. I usually do it all, wash her body, her face, her hair. It makes her feel more human after. She’ll just sag against you and let you scrub her. It’s very cute. Then I will ask if she needs more cuddles, or food, or sleep, or something else. As you know, she’s not shy about asking for what she wants.” Spencer nods, taking it in.

“What can we do for you, baby girl?” he asks, wrapping his arm around her; her eyes are closed, and her breathing is returning to normal. She sighs.

“I want to lay between my daddies and be cuddled. Am I clean enough?”

“You have to go pee first, but yes, I think you’ll be fine until morning. Then we can all take a nice hot shower and get you soapy and fresh, and figure out our plans for tomorrow.” She smiles softly.

“I forgot we get Spencer all weekend. If I didn’t scare him off,” she adds, and Spencer pulls her close, kisses her gently, but very affectionately.

“You didn’t scare me off, needy little thing. I can see why your daddy thought you needed another one, though. You are a handful.”

“She is a handful,” Aaron agrees, leaning in to kiss them both, “and you haven’t even seen her being bratty, needing to be disciplined.” Sophie groans, tired, probably figures he’ll want that tomorrow. He’s not sure yet, honestly. “But even then, she’s pretty fucking perfect. Just like you.” When Spencer looks at him, he thinks he sees a flicker of love, but it could just be the orgasm talking. Either way, he looks forward to holding the both of them, and a night of extremely restful sleep.

[queenxxxsupreme]

I just thought of something- Arthur as a dad and having a little girl that he's so overprotective of and he's got a ranch and he's all healthy and thick- This should be canon I swear.

A/N: BABE this might have just started a mini series involving dad!Arthur and my new ending to rdr2 that I know we deserved. There’s at least going to be two more parts (that could be read separately from this one) including Daisy’s birthday which has some members from our lovely gang in it and some drama as well as the part where Daisy gets her first horse which also has some drama in it! Also just saying, I am open to dad!Arthur requests... 

Additional Note: So in this, Charles’s SO is named Lucy and Abigail and John’s unnamed daughter that they eventually have is named Grace :) They are just mentioned but in this RDR2 AU mini series they will be appearing!

Warnings: DOES INVOLVE SPOILERS FOR RDR2 ENDING, mostly fluffy!, female!reader, 

***

“I’m a survivor, Morgan!”

Arthur jolted awake. His hands gripped the pillow beneath his head with white knuckles. 

For a split second, he didn’t know where he was. The room was dark save for a bit of moonlight that came in through the curtains that covered the window. 

He sat up, rubbing his eyes as he tried to get his bearings. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin. He pushed the quilt and fur blanket off of himself, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

Arthur’s gaze fell on the end table by the bed. The picture on the table brought him back to reality. 

He picked the wooden frame up, a small smile coming to his lips. It was a picture of you, him, and Daisy when she was a newborn. 

“Oh how time flies.” He murmured quietly, placing the picture back down. 

Arthur glanced over his shoulder to where you should have been sleeping, but that side of the bed was empty. It wasn’t too much of a surprise that he was alone. You had trouble sleeping sometimes. But it was odd that he hadn’t noticed you getting out of bed. 

“I’m a survivor, Morgan!” Micah Bell’s voice thundered in Arthur’s ears. “That’s all there is! Living and dying!”

Arthur stood to his feet and moved down the hallway, making his way to Daisy’s room. He pushed the door open and poked his head inside. 

The little lump beneath the blankets on Daisy’s bed settled Arthur’s racing heart. All the worry that had been swirling in his stomach dwindled down at the sight of his seven-year-old daughter. 

The family dog, Carson, huffed from the foot of her bed, alarmed that someone had opened the door. 

“Shhh, boy.” Arthur tried to hush him before he could disturb Daisy, but it was too late. 

“Carson.” She whined.

“Sorry, sweetpea.”

“Daddy?” Daisy turned over in her bed, brushing her messy hair back out of her face.

“Didn’t mean to wake ya up.” Arthur moved into the room, giving Carson a pat on the head. “Just wanted to check on ya.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause…. Well ‘cause I was just worried about ya.” He explained.

Daisy looked up at him for a few moments. 

“Momma said you was havin’ bad dreams.”

Arthur furrowed his brow.

“When did she say that?”

“Earlier when she came in to check on me.”

Arthur would’ve laughed if the reason that you both were so insistent on checking on Daisy wasn’t because of your past. 

“Were you havin’ bad dreams, daddy?”

“No, sweetpea.” He started to tuck her in, making sure the blanket covered her properly and that she was comfortable. “I was just a little restless. Sometimes it’s hard for daddy to go to sleep ‘cause he knows there’s so much to do around here.”

“I can help you do stuff, daddy.” Daisy offered. “That way you can sleep better.”

Arthur smiled. 

“Sweet girl.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “You help me plenty. Try to get some rest. Tomorrow is a busy day. Do you know why it’s a busy day?”

A huge grin spread across her face. 

“I get a horse.”

“What? No, no. That don’t sound right.” Arthur shook his head. 

“Daddy!” Daisy giggled. 

“I’m just teasin’ you, sweetpea.” Arthur kissed her head once more. “Sleep tight, sweetpea. First thing tomorrow mornin’, we’ll be goin’ into town to get you a little horse.”

“What if I want a big horse?”

“Well, we’ll have to just see what the stables have got.” He chuckled. “Good night, sweetpea.”

“Good night, daddy.”

Arthur closed the door to Daisy’s room behind himself. 

He looked down the hallway towards the kitchen, hearing the sound of a quiet conversation. 

He found you and Hosea sitting at the kitchen table. 

“Drinking coffee in the middle of the night? What is it with you two?”

“We’re already up.” Hosea shrugged his shoulders. “No point in trying to go back to sleep.”

You chuckled a little. 

Arthur moved around to stand behind your chair.

“Was Daisy up earlier?” He leaned down to kiss your head. 

“Yeah, briefly. Carson heard something outside and started barking.” You nodded, taking a sip of coffee. 

Arthur looked to the large window in the kitchen that looked over the backyard. His brows furrowed together. 

“Hm. Why didn’t I hear nothin?” He moved towards the window, lingering towards the side instead of standing directly in the middle. 

“You were talkin’ in your sleep again.” You said quietly. “You only do that when you’re having real bad dreams.”

Arthur nodded. 

“I already went out there and looked around. Didn’t see anything.” Hosea told him. 

“I’m gonna go double check.”

“What- You think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“That’s not it, old man.”

Hosea watched as Arthur disappeared down the hallway, going to the backroom to retrieve a gun.

“He only wants to see for himself that there’s nothin’ out there.” You spoke so only Hosea could hear you. “He was sayin’ Micah’s name again, Hosea.”

Hosea let out a sigh. 

“He thinks Micah’s gonna come after him.”

“You don’t think so?” You tilted your head to the side a little, eyebrows drawing together. “After…. After what happened…. Arthur ruined his plans at getting the money from Blackwater. Dutch died on that mountain. You’re the only other one who knows and Micah knows you’re here too. It would only make sense for him to come here and…. and I’m afraid, Hosea.”

Hosea shook his head softly, reaching over to take your hand. 

“Micah Bell is a coward, Y/N. He knows it. He knows Arthur’s got all of us in his corner. You, me, Charles, John-,”

“But Hosea, we’ve got families.” Your voice cracked. “We have Daisy and-and Charles and Lucy are having one of their own. Abigail and John have Jack and Grace. We-We ain’t what we used to be.”

Hosea was quiet for a few moments. 

Arthur passed through the kitchen fully dressed and carrying a shotgun.

Your eyes met his briefly. The air in your lungs escaped. It felt like someone was sitting on your chest. 

The back door closed behind Arthur.

“If it comes down to it, Y/N, we will do what we have to do.” Hosea assured you.

You nodded your head, wiping the tears from your cheeks that managed to escape. 

***

A half an hour had passed and Arthur had yet to return to the house. You ventured out to find him. He sat on the front step with the shotgun still in his hands. Upon hearing the front door open, he looked over his shoulder. 

“Do you plan on stayin’ out here all night?” 

He didn’t answer you, turning his head to look back to the woods. 

You sat down next to him, slipping your arm around his. You kissed his shoulder and leaned against him. 

“Is everything okay?”

“I just…. just got this feelin’ that ain’t sittin’ right with me. That’s all.”

“We’ve been here for four years, Arthur. We’ve been quiet, haven’t drawn any attention to ourselves and haven’t let any of the locals know our real names. There’s no way he’d know where we are.”

“If that snake wants to find me, he could. I know it. And if he…. I don’t want him anywhere near Daisy.”

“Charles and Lucy are just down the road. You know Charles is just as vigilant as you are and with those dogs he’s got, he’d know if anyone was setting up camp in the woods between our property and his. If need be, next time Sadie comes through we can ask her to dig around and see where Micah’s at. You know she’d be willing to help.”

“I hate to get her involved.” Arthur muttered, shaking his head softly. 

“If it involves the future of her niece, you know damn well she’d want to be involved.” You rubbed his arm. “It’s early, but we still got a couple hours before the sun comes up.”

He let out a breath. 

“M’not gonna sleep at all tonight, pumpkin.”

“Then at least come lay down. Let me read to you. You don’t need to be out here alone with just your thoughts.”

Arthur’s eyes found yours.

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

“I know.” You smiled. “Come on.” You patted his arm and stood up. 

“Daisy’s real excited about gettin’ herself a horse.” Arthur put his hand on the small of your back as he walked behind you. “You don’t think she’s still too young for one, do you? I mean, she’s so small. She’s smaller than Jack was and he was a tiny kid.”

“She’s just fine for her age, Arthur.” You assured him. “It’ll be good for her to get started with a horse now. It’ll keep you both busy all spring.”

“What if she gets hurt?”

“She’s bound to get hurt. It’s a part of growin’ up.”

“I don’t want her gettin’ hurt.”

The door to Daisy’s room opened and Carson slipped out. 

“Daisy.” You said her name. “You should be in bed. It’s four in the morning.”

“I can’t sleep, momma.” She lingered in the doorway to her room, a frown on her lips. 

You looked back to Arthur. He nodded his head, moving past you so he could get to your daughter. 

“You wanna come lay down with me and momma? She’s gonna read a storybook to me.” 

“Yeah!” Daisy held her hands out for him. Arthur grunted as he picked her up and placed her on his hip. 

Carson slipped into the bedroom just before you closed the door. Arthur put Daisy down on the bed and took his hat off, placing it on her head. 

“Daddy! It’s too big!” She giggled, pushing it back so it didn’t fall over her eyes.

“Nah, I think it fits just perfect.” He grinned. “I’ll be right back. M’gonna go change. Don’t get too comfortable though, sweetpea. You’re in my spot.”

You slipped off your houseshoes and pulled a book from the shelf. 

“Momma?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Where can I get a hat like this daddy’s?” Daisy put Arthur’s hat on the stand next to the bed and then settled back against his pillows. 

“I reckon if you mention it to daddy while you’re in town tomorrow he can get you one.” You sat down on your side of the bed, opening up the book. Carson made himself comfortable at the foot of the bed.

A few moments later, Arthur returned to the bedroom. He stopped just after shutting the door and put his hands on his hips. 

“Sweetpea.”

“Yes, daddy?” She giggled, bringing the blankets up to cover her nose.

“I think we got a problem. Where am I supposed to sleep if you’re in my spot?”

She giggled again, pulling the blankets up over her head as if to hide from him. 

“Arthur, she needs to sleep some.” You told him quietly. “Don’t get her-,”

He didn’t listen. Instead, he chose to tickle her through the blankets. Daisy’s delighted laughter filled the room. You couldn’t help but smile. 

Once Arthur was content with her laughter, he stopped tickling her and pulled the blankets back. Daisy’s hair was a mess. 

“Little Miss Daisy, we are definitely going to have to fix your hair in the morning.” Arthur leaned down to kiss her forehead. “But first, you need to get some sleep.”

“Nuh-uh! Momma was gonna read to us!”

“I’ll read until someone falls asleep.” You yawned. “Though I might be that someone.”

“You heard your mother, sweetpea. Scoot over so she can read us a story.” Arthur nudged Daisy over towards the middle of the bed. 

Once the two were settled, you began your story. 

“A long time ago, there were two cowboys….”

Taglist:  @doggone-cowgirl @winterwolf @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust @nonodino @gabstaroc @cal-lifornication @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284

[moon-light-jukebox]

Learning Styles - [Reid x Reader]

Summary: Reader has worked hard to get to the FBI, but a misunderstanding has her feeling insecure. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Content Warning: Mention of normal criminal minds stuff briefly. 

A/n: I got these two requests and they were so similar I decided to combine them. I hope that’s okay, but I feel like the stories would have been almost identical. 

Requests:  - I have a fic suggestion. Reader pretends to be dumb but is actually really smart. I’m thinking of that quote about marilyn ”you have to be really smart to pretend to be dumb”. One day spencer realizes that reader is smarter than she lets people know.

- Hi! Can I request a spencer reid x reader fic where reader isn't great with numbers but brilliant with behaviour and humanities (i.e. literature, history, sociology, up to you)? Maybe a dash of insecurity to spice things up?

-- Learning Styles -- 

My favorite professor in college told me that everyone learns differently; what works for one person won’t work in the same way for another. We are all different human beings that are shaped in different ways.

I had always been oddly insecure about my intelligence level. One of my earliest memories was my mother yelling at me while I sat at the kitchen table when I was in first grade. I was the only kid in my class who still hadn’t learned how to read. I just didn’t understand. All of my friends were progressing so much quicker than me and my mother was losing patience.

It wasn’t until my grandmother stepped in that everything changed. My elementary school teacher was training children to read by memorizing sight words, a concept I didn’t understand. When my grandmother sat down and taught me phonics. I distinctly remember everything snapping into place.

I was in 1st grade and reading at a 7th-grade level by Christmas. Once I finally understood my learning style, I really began to thrive.

But no matter what I did, I could still hear my mother yelling at me, telling me I was stupid.

In my line of work, I see just how much the throw away comments that parents make can shape a child’s development. Luckily, those comments just made me a bit insecure, not a murderer.

Up until I was 22, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do beyond this desire I had to help people. SSA David Rossi had come to guest lecture in one of my abnormal psych classes during undergrad. After I heard him speak, I was done. I couldn’t have done anything else with my life. I had obtained my master’s in psychology before I joined the FBI.

It took some time, but I was finally assigned to the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. I was so excited on my first day that I remember my hands physically shaking.

Until they weren’t.

I can still remember my first day so clearly. SSA Hotchner had introduced me to the team, saving the “best” for last.

“And this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he had said. “He’s our expert on…well, everything.”

Reid was my age and he had his Ph.D. I remember feeling awed by him.

Until I didn’t.

"I hold 3 Ph.D.'s in Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics. I also have BAs in psychology and sociology."

I remember my jaw almost hitting the floor. While I was impressed by him, I wasn’t insecure about my place on the team.

Until I was.

My grandmother may have helped me master reading, which opened the door to me mastering anything else I put my mind to…except math.

I was fine at statistics, luckily. You couldn’t get a psych degree without a ton of statistics work. But statistics was different, I could see the practical use of statistics. I just couldn’t wrap my head around calculus or algebra.

On my first case with the team, Reid had calculated some insane mathematical equations on the whiteboard, running down the probabilities and applying a mathematical formula to the unsub’s behavior.

It wasn't until later, after the case was solved when I was standing in front of the whiteboard that my confidence was hit. Reid had come into the room and saw me looking at his work.

“Don’t bother trying to understand it,” he had said. “You’d have to be a genius to understand what I do.”

I didn’t have a word to describe the feeling that settled in my stomach at his words, I wasn’t sure such a word existed. The feeling was cold and heavy, but also made my body burn with shame.

I had just offered him a tight smile before I left the room.

On the plane home I had made a decision. I was no match for Dr. Reid, I doubt anyone was. So, I would take myself out of the competition. I couldn’t get hurt if I wasn’t playing the game.

And that is how the next year of my life went. I allowed Dr. Reid to explain things to me that I was an expert in, never saying a word. I acted like I didn't understand concepts that I had written papers on. The only thing I didn't dumb down was my profiling skills. Those were necessary for my job and for saving lives.

I don’t think anyone realized what I was doing.

Until they did.

--

The team had been called to Colorado to assist in capturing a serial rapist.

All of our cases bothered me, every last one…but something about ones with this vile element really struck me.

We had the unsub’s name, Tyler Childress. He had spent time in prison for sexual assault and burglary. It seems while he was in prison, he spent time perfecting his methods; it was only by pure luck that we found his fingerprint inside the victim’s house, making him the main suspect.

When we paid Mr. Childress a visit, he had managed to get the drop on Prentiss and Morgan, allowing them to escape. Morgan was furious.

All of us were sitting around a conference table in the local prescient while we let Dr. Reid talk.

I was trying to be calm, I was, but my nails were digging into my palm so deeply I was worried I was about to draw blood.

“Guys,” the expert on everything said. “He has to have some sort of accomplice.”

Rossi just sighed. “But the profile doesn’t point to him being the sort to do well with others; he’s a narcissist.”

Reid wouldn’t budge. “I know that, but he isn’t intelligent enough to pull this off alone. He’s just not. He had an IQ test done when he was 20. He scored in the mentally handicapped range. I’m telling you he has to have help.”

“Are you sure, Reid?” Hotch asked.

“Positive. I have his results right here.”

“IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence on their own.”

I was so startled that someone had contradicted Dr. Reid that it took me a second to realize it was me who had contradicted him.

He turned to face me; his brown eyes wide. “What?”

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence.”

Dr. Reid laughed. He laughed at me like my comment was funny. “I don’t know where you heard that,” he began.

But I interrupted him. "IQ tests are classist and oftentimes racist. The man who invented the IQ test never intended for it to be used as a complete measure of intelligence. He regretted making the test.”

Reid sputtered. “You…it’s not racist!”

“Yes. It. Is.” I ground out. “If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be illegal to administer an IQ test to a black child in the state of California.”

"Wait, it's illegal to do that?" JJ asked, her brows drawn together.

"Yes. There was a court case in the 1970s over it. Teachers were using tests to separate white children from black children. The black children were put into special education classes they didn’t need to be in. Just because the teachers didn’t want those children in their classrooms.”

I should have stopped, but I was on a role. “They’re also inherently classist. How can you expect a child to answer a question about Romeo and Juliet if they haven’t heard of it?”

That had Dr. Reid scoffing. “Everyone has heard of it.”

I shot to my feet, unable to hold back anymore. “No, they haven’t. Children in underfunded schools that don’t have access to resources might not have heard about the most famous play in history because their school wasn’t able to provide the materials to teach them about it. There was a study done in a remote part of Russia right after the IQ test was invented. Every. Single. Person. Scored in the mentally handicapped range. Because they didn’t understand.”

I knew my voice was rising but I couldn’t stop myself. “Once the researcher took the questions and applied them to things they understood, they all scored as above average. They didn’t understand math as an abstract concept, but they understood it when it was applied to their businesses, to something they actually knew about.”

I cleared my throat. “The test isn’t fair, it’s not equal. Tyler Childress didn’t go to a good school and he didn’t have a stable home life. You can’t use one measure to calculate his intelligence. He’s gotten away with 7 assaults so far that we know of. He’s not stupid.”

The entire room was silent once I had stopped speaking. I couldn’t bring myself to regret it though. What kind of person was I if I played dumb because I was afraid of being mocked when a monster was out there attacking women? No, those women deserved to have me at my best.

And I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t give it to them.

Rossi spoke first, his eyes twinkling when he looked at me. “Took you long enough,” he said. “But y/n is right. We trust the profile; we don’t let personal bias cloud the way. That’s how we catch this bastard.”

--

Later that day, we were cleaning up the conference room while the local police processed Tyler Childress.

Pathological narcissism is a complex disorder, but we followed the profile and Rossi was right. Hotch set up a press conference in which JJ and Prentiss took center stage. They tore Childress’s ego to shreds on live television.

His narcissism wouldn’t allow that to slide. He got angry, he made a mistake, and we got him before anyone else got hurt.  

While the cat was out of the bag about my intelligence and that made me nervous, I couldn't regret any of it. I got to be the one to tell our last victim that we got him. I got to hug her while she cried because now that he was locked up, she felt like her healing could begin. I wasn’t sure if my rant about structural racism and the classism of IQ tests actually helped anything, but that didn’t really matter. There was one less monster in the shadows.

Today was a good day.

I was alone in the conference room, untacking photos from the evidence board when I heard someone clear their throat from behind me. I turned my head to meet the wide, honey brown eyes of Dr. Spencer Reid.

Oh boy, I thought. “What’s up, Reid?”

He shifted from foot to foot, his hands twisting in front of him before he crossed his arms over his chest. “I asked Garcia to look into you.”

My eyebrows drew together. “I’m pretty sure any nefarious things I had done would have popped up on my initial background check.”

“Right, I didn’t mean like that,” he mumbled, the apples of his cheeks turning pink. “I asked her to look into you academically.”

Shit.

He went on. “You double majored in psychology and sociology before you got a master’s in cultural psychology. She pulled your thesis. I just read it.”

“I see.” I turned my attention back to the board.

“You also guest lecture on cross-cultural psychology at Georgetown several times a year. And you’ve co-authored two papers since I’ve known you.”

Meh, it’s three. But that doesn’t matter. “Did you read those too?”

I took his silence as confirmation.

He was so quiet I almost thought he had left, but the crackle of energy I felt in the air told me he hadn’t. “Do you need something, Dr. Reid?”

"Why didn't you get your Ph.D.?"

I had answered that question many, many times. “I didn’t need a doctorate to do what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to waste time. Once I figured out what I wanted, I charged at it.” Which was a far more honest answer than most people got about that from me.

“W-why did you pretend to be dumb?” he rasped out, causing me to look back at him. “32 days ago, you let me explain the long-term effects of gerrymandering and the complex causes of poverty.”

“Of course, I did,” I said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“One of the papers you authored was about generational poverty.”

“Just because I know a lot about something doesn’t mean I can stop listening to information. That sort of thinking breeds ignorance.” I smiled, unable to not tease him just a little bit.

Reid took a step closer to me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I just shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t have a good answer.”

In all the months I had known him, Spencer Reid had never touched me, not even so much as a finger brushing against mine when he handed me something. That fact is why I was so startled when I felt his hand on my upper arm, turning me towards him.

He licked his lips, his eyes darting around. “Did everyone else know?”

I shook my head, my teasing mood long gone. "No. I mean, clearly, Rossi suspected but…No, I didn't tell anyone else."

“I just don’t understand. You’re brilliant.”

I scoffed. “No, I’m not. I’m decent a psychology, sociology, stuff like that. I can’t apply math to behavior to find patterns. I can’t even calculate how much something is gonna cost when it’s on sale without a calculator half the time.”

‘What do you…” Reid trailed off. “Wait. The very first case. You were looking at the evidence board.”

Goddamn eidetic memory.

The boy wonder was on a roll now. “I told you that you’d have to…is that why you didn’t tell me?”

What else could I do? I just nodded.

Those brown eyes closed, and he let out a groan. “I said that because I thought you were going to…I was worried…” He huffed out a breath and opened his eyes. “I wanted you to like me. I didn’t want you to think I was just a nerd.”  

Now I was confused. “Why?”

Spencer Reid’s blush went all the way down his neck. “Well…I just…Morgan said I should just talk to you. But I’m not…I’m not good at that. I panic, then I start to ramble. Like I’m doing now…”

“Reid,” I interrupted. “I’m not playing dumb now. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I like you,” he blurted out right before he smacked both of his hands over his face. “Oh my god. I sound like a child.” I thought I heard him mutter idiot under his breath. “Emily says that my IQ gets slashed to 60 whenever I see a pretty girl.”

Much like that moment all those years ago when I was a child, I felt everything click into place. Oh.

I couldn't suppress my smile any longer. I rose up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Well, we've already gone over how IQ tests aren't a good measure of overall intelligence."  

With that, I quickly stepped away and hurried out of the conference room, leaving a stunned genius in my wake. When I turned back to look at him, I saw his fingers brushing over the place where my lips had just been.  

--

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[spencerscoven]

— dreams of another

about ; Since that night in the office you wander onto Spencer’s mind at all times, like clockwork.

gif by saramichellesgeller

CONTENT WARNING: unedited, smut, oral sex (male&female receiving), choking, unprotected sex, cheating, angst

a/n: view part 1 here.

The second time it happens, it's only a week that passes before Spencer finds himself on the floor of the humid conference room, his limbs entangled with yours, while the cool air settles on the sheen of sweat coated on his forehead. In the corner of of the room, he watches the navy blouse discarded carelessly on the top of a chair, similar in color to the marks between your breast.

The third time it happens, he tells you it's the last time, with his back facing you and his eyes gazing at entirely nothing.

The fourth and fifth time, Spencer doesn't say anything in the tiny space of your bedroom as he overlooks the buildings surrounding your apartment, then all the way to the concrete foundation down below, studying how insignificant everyone looked. How unknowing they were to the moral wrongdoings happening all around them.

"You live so high up. I live four floors down from here in my own building." You listened as he said those fruitless words.

"What does that mean?" You questioned, lips pursing together while your finger nails caught on the creases of the cream duvet beneath you where he laid only minutes before.

“People like you are meant to fuck people like me.” He mumbles, smirking, the vibrations of his voice upheld by the enclosures of cheap plaster walls.

The only thing left to do was to watch as the muscles of his back contracted, dancing in the lines of the darkness with the patter of his feet coming towards you. You monitored the direction of his hand as it reached for the band of his briefs, the other already latched around your neck.

The sixth time it happens, it’s in the bounds of his own apartment where he presses peppery kisses along the sides of your face, assuring you in confidence that she wouldn’t catch the two of you there. And he reassures you the only way he knows how, his fingers plying at your zipper and kneeling like he would at an alter, guiding the arch of your hips closer.

Two weeks from then was when the phone calls started. You began to understand the pattern, laying awake until the sweet pinnacle of dawn where he’d whisper your name through the receiver, exhaustion tainted in Spencer’s voice when he’d ask, “how was your night?” before he began to speak. You’d listen to Spencer talk about the good and the bad. About his mother, vintage cufflinks, and the bookshelf he wanted. Sometimes about the glasses or earrings in the store had reminded him of you. Often about how pretty you looked latched onto his cock. You wanted him to want to keep you.

You wanted him to want you first, to touch you before you even had to lay a finger on him, to grab the back of your neck and kiss you first. Anything he could do to prove that he wanted this too. Something in your head told you it was wrong to long for such a furtive thing. But you found yourself willing to be second best anyways, head stuck below sub zero while you prioritized the taste of his lips along with everything else that made him, him.

So in the shadows this thing between the two of you remained.

And the team began to realize Spencer now had a thing with being late.

They also began to realize that you didn’t drink nearly enough coffee to warrant all of your disappearances.

JJ malignly embarked on the observation of the two of you during meetings, where you never met Spencer’s eye properly but unconsciously leaned your body towards him with each interaction. And all at once it made sense to her, why he was more drawn to his phone, departing from bed at night in preference of hushed ringtones, his growing fondness to late nights. They had never agreed to a proclamation of love, not even on the days she relaxed on his dingy apartment furniture. JJ figured it was his way of waiting on her to feel the same as he might’ve, when in reality it was Spencer’s way of making sure you still remained in his life.

It was a Tuesday when she let the structure of your sin unravel in the bleak corner of the hallway with Spencer, confessing “i know” and chastening him,

“How many people are you willing to hurt?”

With the unequivocal decision pinned to the front of his brain, Spencer told you he didn’t want to hurt anyone else during the last call the two of you shared at night. The words became lost from your ears as you feigned deafness, thinking about how stupid you were to take him in the only way you could, thinking one-third of him be adequate enough.

So you hung up before he said goodbye, and it was easy to do solely because if love couldnt suffice, hate would have to.

It was odd to overlook the call that came immediately after, your eyes unblinking at the white screen. The weeks after that only came to demonstrate that finding a home within someone was overrated, even if you knew who was behind the blocked numbers that caused your phone to viberate so often it would fall off your nightstand.

Little by little you figured you’d forget and move onto your own devices, exhausted by the ability that you still moved through life, yet experienced none of it without itching for him next to you. You lusted after the idea you’d wake up with the intensity of it all slipped from your mind, forgetting how his arms felt, skin, pulse, the sound of his voice, or the soft ringlets of his hair that continued to grow as you wilted.

A harder idea to get out of your head was if he was okay, followed by if he ever thought of you at the same time you thought of him. Did he know you wouldn’t have minded resigning to another team? Or that you considered doing it, even now?

Spencer spectated your life, the base of his throat becoming caught when he watched you get worse, speak less, become smaller. You’d shrunken within yourself. Months passed, with him having too many inquiries about you to Morgan, who always gave him a disappointing look, but told him about you each time. That you hadn’t been sleeping, internal clock stuck on keeping you up until the crack of dawn, your mind regressing backwards solely because of him. He gave up on leaving those stupid sticky notes in your books that said “call me!” or even the ones that asked if you were okay, asking if you able to stand on your own.

He watched you so long that he began to see you get better, more social as you expanded, becoming a part of the team again. You were different, but you were you again. It was a bitter pill to swallow when he took heed that your life no longer included him, keeping his lips sealed at any revelation that would show he was still devoted.

So it was dull-witted when he found himself outside the door of your apartment, swaying back and fourth because every night since the last call his world had been spinning faster and faster, trapping him inside as a prisoner. For weeks straight Spencer had awoken with the feeling of bile ready to rise out of his throat, your presence always lacking even if you controlled the beat of his heart.

He knocked. And thought about how angelic you looked when you answered, the confused expression not going unnoticed by him as a celebration sounded somewhere in his mind because you looked as if you weren’t expecting anyone else. And Spencer knows he’d collapse right then and there if you had been.

“I’ve been thinking— it’s not like I can really stop it— for months. It’s been around sixty eight days since we last spoke,” He began, taking you in, enstilling trust in his brain to get a photo of you so well that he could have it forevermore if you didn’t want him anymore. If that had ever been the case he’d leave. He’d leave the state if you asked him to.

“Why are you here?” You only had four words to say out loud, the rest buzzing around in your head safely, unauthorized to rise out of your throat.

“We never really said anything about it but I think we both knew how we felt.” Spencer leans closer just in time for his lips to land beside your ears, lighting a match inside your chest that had stayed extinguished for far too long.

“Speaking was never our strong suit, anyway.” You replied, your lips pursed while your arms took on a defensive stance, pushing him back gently.

You were shipwrecked inside, pushing him back again, this time firmly because you knew you couldn’t stop him from coming closer, even if you wanted to. You were at a standstill as his hands brought yours to his shoulders, drawing circles on your hip with the tips of his fingers. He was in your doorway asking if he was yours, not trying to eloquently wrap you around his finger.

Your limbs acted before your mind did, digits moving across his adam’s apple and holding tight, restricting his airflow like he had done to you so many times while he fucked you into the mattress. You gleamed at him with not much in your eyes, trying to remembering when you had tried to cross the thin line between love and hate for him. Spencer’s eyes were soft and adoring, a look which he had a tendency to give you. So you held tighter. And he did nothing, knowing you wouldn’t go far but willing to die in your hands if you truly wanted to.

“I don’t know if you deserve this anymore,” Your lips ghosted over his, reprimanding him that he’d forgotten that this had began in a game of adultery.

“I don’t.” Spencer’s voice came out as if he was parched and you had been refusing him of a drink. Your hands released his neck and instead grabbed at his jaw, allowing his lips to mend together with yours, unable to speak back.

“If I loved you any less, I’d be able to talk about it more.” He pulled away just enough to whisper those words.

“You love me?” You questioned, a bit timid in the way it came out.

“It’s more than that. I adore you. Worship, even.”

You felt yourself moving the both of you into your apartment, swapping the publicity of the hallway for the privacy closely afforded to you. Your bodies only got so far, pushing each other against the wall next to the enterence, Spencer’s hands helping to arch your body into his, hands pressing down the curve of your back.

You enjoyed feeling him subtly grind his hips against you while he let out little whimpers, remembering the way he was so vocal and sensitive, yet dominant when he laid between your legs. You drew in a quick breath as he bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw the red liquid that ran through your body, conflicted as to why it only drew you closer, want intensified.

“I missed you so much,” Spencer’s voice ghosted in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking along your throat and collarbones, pushing the palm of his hand harshly against your damp cotton underwear, drawing a shiver from you. “Are lilacs still favorite flowers?”

His fingers played along your slit, the pads of his thumb pressing on your clit and rotating above the fabric, watching your hips jerk from the subtle pleasure.

“I think you missed me too,” Spencer held you, switching places so you now were encased between him and the wall, knowing that soon enough your knees wouldn’t be able to hold you up. His index and middle finger filled you up in a way only he could, the tips of them curving in his direction as he hit the bumpy ridge inside of you.

You held his shoulder, uncaring that your nails dug into the expensive button up he wore, admiring that he always preferred quality over quantity. Your face contorted in pleasure as his fingers only pumped faster inside of your vagina, only smirking at the sorry attempt of a nod you gave to answer him because he had rendered you speechless.

You felt the climb of your orgasm rise in your stomach, reaching all the way to the rest of your limbs, making them feel as if they were just static attached to your body until his fingers ceased, sensing how you clenched around them desperately. Your mouth opened, protests ready to fall out while he grasped the back of your knees, signaling you to jump so he could carry you to your bedroom.

“Why are you always such a tease?” You groaned, endearingly grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I can’t just let your greedy pussy swallow my fingers and cum from just that...” he tosses you into your sheets gently, leaning down to take your top off and throwing it somewhere to be rediscovered again.

He watches silently as you lift your hips off the mattress, panties sliding down your calves to your ankles, and finally off. Spencer gazes down at you, your jaw in his two hands, staring up with puppy eyes. He let a line of swears spring from his mouth, wondering why you looked so innocent when your hands were planted on his hips, licking the precum that made a wet patch on the side of his pants.

“Quite unfair that I’m the only one with my clothes off, don’t you think?” Your hands settled on his belt buckle, the jingle of metal filling the room as you undid the button to his slacks as well. Tugging him by the band of his boxers to lay on the bed with you, Spencer caught the cue and laid against the headboard. He trailed his left hand along your thighs, lifting you to straddle him as his right latched onto your breasts, squeezing.

“Please sit,” He said, taking a nipple into his mouth, “On my face.”

You sat in a slightly worried daze, Spencer catching the clue to just move you into the position. You found yourself facing the mirror at the foot of your bed, your ass in his face as he grabbed at your hips, trying to bring you higher and get a taste.

“Are you sure?” You apprehensively twisted your torso to eye him, taking note that the two of you had came across something you’d quite done before.

“Yes, I need you to.” Spencer reached his arm around, gently rubbing your clit, and feeling how your whole body relaxed from above him, as he repeated affirmations against your back.

You watched from the mirror, your ass propped up in his face and lips swollen. You could even see when you began the swivel of your hips into him. He didn’t need to say much else before you arched your back, planting your pussy right above his lips.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispered, before running his tongue flatly against your pussy.

Your hips jerked back and fourth, riding on the surface of his tongue that enveloped your clit, sucking on it harshly until he flatly ran it up. His fingers were back at work, touching the places where his tongue couldn’t reach. You determined that this position was now one of your favorites, your hands that were once placed on the tops of his thighs reaching for the bludge in his boxers.

You tried pulling them just far enough so you could begin to run your hands up and down his cock. Spencer’s tongue only assaulted your clit harder when you leaned down, allowing him a new angle so you could push him into your mouth, collecting the precum that had spilt, humming in delight.

Spencer couldn’t stop the thrusting of his hips upwards, burying himself deeper down your throat, both of your moans viberating off the atoms in your room. Your eyes wandered up as you watched, hypnotized at the reflection of you two. It made you wanna take his dick deeper, taking him to the back of your throat as you felt his cum ripple out.

Your orgasm only took a few more seconds to follow his, your moan muffled from your jaw expanded around his cock. Your hasty breaths harbored his while you saw stars. You were casted out of your stupor when you felt the palm of his hand rub circles into your ass, hand coming down in a smack.

“This fucking pussy has me whipped.” Spencer sighed, pressing a kiss exactly where his hand last struck.

When you positioned yourself back across his abdomen, you kneeled, kissing him. You felt him twitch under you from tasting himself on your tongue, reaching down to line up his cock to enter you.

Spencer stared up at you, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of you slowly descending your pussy on his cock. His hands traced the hickies that dawned on your chest, then to his on his lower stomach, watching how the two of you connected. These were marks of possession— ones that he could finally show off.

You rolled your hips against his, slowly circling them and allowing him to hit the most sensitive parts of you. You felt so much fuller than usual, the feeling taking your breath away. Nobody else could reach those heights that Spencer gave you. Maybe it was also because nobody else could occupy your mind like he could, either.

He pulled you down so the two of you could reunite your lips, wearing away at the callouses that had formed around your heart. His thumb drew slow circles on your clit, pulling your orgasm out so you could cum above him. It took a few more thrusts before he came inside you, continuing to fuck his seed back into you from below for just a while longer. When Spencer’s hips stilled, he kept inside, basking in the embodiment of you that wholly consumed him.

He silently traced the outlines of your features, your eye lids fluttering as he reached to them. His fingernails scratched your scalp im a rythem that lulled you into hazy exhaustion. You feel his stare on your face as it occurs to him that he was doomed from the start. You were a wonder to behold.

“Spencer?”

“Yes?”

“Did you forget all of the things I remember?”

“I don’t think I could even if I tried.”

masterlist

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Pawn: Two

Bucky flipped through the pages of the prenup and felt his eyes glaze over. You had quite the list of riders that you wanted to be included and, so far as Bucky was concerned, you were overestimating your value. “No infidelity clause?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at the man sitting across from him. 

Tony shrugged, “Said she figures you’re smart enough to know that for this to work you’re gonna have to fuck around discreetly.”

That made Bucky take notice. It was something he didn’t expect. For you to not demand he stay faithful. He figured that you’d want… More. Not that Bucky was complaining. There was something to be said for the fact that you wanted some control over yourself, the house you were going to live in, things you wanted to not be prevented from doing. It said a lot about where your head was. 

Reading between the lines told him that the material things you wanted were there to snow him. To not make him expect any affection from you. And even if he didn’t want you either, he’d be lying if he said that that didn’t sting a little. Sure. He didn’t expect to sweep you off your feet. But he wasn’t a monster. Or bad looking. He was used to women falling all over themselves. 

“So she doesn’t want me to not sleep with other people but she wants to redecorate my house?” Bucky couldn’t help but not feel a little incredulous. And Tony’s smirk as he looked around the office made Bucky itch to pop him in the mouth. 

“You could do worse,” he said looking meaningfully towards the outdated faux vintage sideboard that served as a bar cart. “She’s got good taste… Even if it is expensive.” Tony didn’t bother to explain that he was glad you had expensive taste. That you deserved everything you were asking for and more. He didn’t want to tip his hand and short sell you. Hell, he thought you were selling yourself short. And his stomach was turning at the thought of the Punk reading to contract being responsible for your wellbeing. 

Sure. Tony had done his homework. He knew that Barnes wasn’t a woman beater. He knew that his only vice was a sweet tooth, really. And he knew that he’d probably do okay as a family man. But that didn’t make him feel any better about trading your future, your chances at being loved properly for security.  He watched Bucky roll his eyes and turn back to the contract. He’d added some addendums of his own. Some things that he added not just to protect your body but to protect your heart. Something he never in a million years he would have thought to do before Pepper had dropped into his life like a bomb and brought you with her. 

He’d never wanted kids. Least of all daughters. But now that he had them, he wanted them cared for. Properly. And he spent absurd amounts of time wanting to go back and punch his younger self in the face… But that was an issue for another day. Tony took a sip of his drink and smirked a little when Bucky looked up at his scowling. 

“Stark-”

“The ball’s in her court,” Tony said shrugging. ‘And I want to make sure you’re gonna take care of my kid.”

“But-”

“Sign it or don’t Barnes… But just know. I won’t let her take any counteroffer. She’s going to get everything, ANYTHING she wants.”

Bucky watched Tony, feeling like he was in the middle of a western. Like he was playing Chicken. The first one to flinch was going to lose. And he could tell that that person wasn’t going to be Tony. Even if it was a pain in his ass, he was grateful. There was someone fighting for you. You weren’t being forced into this… Not like he thought Tony would do that. But there was some comfort in the fact that Tony was willing to play hardball for you. It made him feel less sick about doing all this. 

He set the contract on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll have my people look it over,” he said looking up. 

Tony inspected his nails for a second and nodded, “She’s a good kid, Barnes,” Tony said quietly. And Bucky heard the underlying things he didn’t say. That Tony didn’t like this but he understood it. That you deserved better but “better” wasn’t an option right now. Not with the threat growing. The thunder growling in the distance. All Bucky could do was nod. Standing and offering Tony a hand. 

“I might have a few things to add,” Bucky warned. 

“And if she refuses them?” he countered, taking the hand that was offered as he stood. 

Bucky smiled a little, “She’s got me by the short hairs,” he snorted, “And she knows it, doesn’t she?”

“Without a doubt,” Tony said smirking. “I might have got a late start with her but, she’s a fast learner.”

_____________

“I can’t believe you’re going along with this,” Pepper said, glaring at you over her coffee mug. 

“What would you have me do, mom?” you sigh, “Tell him no? Let Rumlow murder us all in our beds?”

Pepper set the cup down but didn’t stop glaring at you, “They’re big boys.”

“And your Manolo pumps don’t pay for themselves,” you say smiling a little.

“But-”

“Mom,” you say gently, “It’s not like Papa is holding a gun to my head and telling me to do it or he’ll kill me. It’s not like I’m already dating someone and I have to break up with him. I don’t have to give up all my charities and stuff… I’ll still have a life. A contractually obligated one, sure. But, not too terribly much is going to change.”

“That’s not-”

“I know that’s not what you wanted. But it could be worse.”

Pepper sighed and patted your hand, “At least Morgan is excited to be a flower girl.”

“Someone is going to have a good day,” you say smiling a little. Morgan had already told you that she wanted a pink dress. The subtlety of your colors not involving pink was lost on her. Or, more likely, she was appalled that there was no pink and decided to add some. 

Pepper watched you out of the corner of her eye for a moment. She could see the gears turning as you stared at the book shelf in front of you. She could see you planning how you were going to pack. How you were going to decorate. How you were going to make yourself comfortable in whatever little niche you could make for yourself.

“What are you going to do about kids?” Pepper asked softly. 

“You mean the kids we don’t have yet? And don’t really need?”

“Y/N,” Pepper scolded, “What’s going to happen if he wants a legacy?”

“He’s got money. He can build a library… make sure no other kids are illiterate because he clearly didn’t read the contract.”

Pepper quirked an eyebrow and you smile a little. “I put a clause that I can’t be compelled to just start popping out kids. And that if that happens I reserve the right to get my tubes tied.”

“What about if you want kids?”

“I don’t so-”

“Y/N,” she scolded. 

“You know I don’t. And if you tell me I’m going to change my mind I’m going to get my tubes tied out of spite.”

Pepper leaned back and folded her arms. “Sometimes when you open your mouth Tony comes out, you know that?”

And all you can do is smile a little, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “It’ll be okay, mom,” you tell her. “It’s not like I had any other plans.”

[goldentournesol]

The Receptionist and the Profiler (Epilogue)

Chapter Eight: Epilogue

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of the series. this is just a summary of what Spencer and Reader’s life is like in the future. thank you so much for joining me on this journey. I’ve enjoyed it so much more than I thought I would. So without further ado, enjoy.

Working for the FBI made for a pretty wild life. Even though Y/N wasn’t an agent, her life had been caught up with work just like all the other agents’. It also didn’t help that her boyfriend was endangered practically every minute of every day. It was hard, but Spencer and Y/N made it work. Among the darkness, they created light for each other. Spencer was no longer dreading coming home to a quiet life of reading and rereading his favorite books. He had a partner, he had a lover, someone to depend on. She was there for him as he grieved the loss of his friend and coworker deeply and she was there when he struggled with his excruciating migraines. They walked through life together, facing the challenges head on.

Emily’s death had taken a toll on the both of them, but they were nothing short of relieved when they found out that she was alive and well. Many changes took place after that.

JJ had worked long and hard to turn into a profiler, the liaison had years upon years of experience before switching jobs which meant Hotch had to find a new communications liaison, but he didn’t have to look far at all. He had offered Y/N the job without a second thought. A lot of her job as receptionist covered a liaison’s job. She would often get numerous calls a day from nosy reporters and she’d have to shut them down. However, with the added responsibilities, she’d had to take classes and had undergone copious amounts of training with JJ and Hotch, but she found that she flourished in this new job, despite the hardships that came with it.

This meant that she had her own office now. Whenever Spencer wasn’t at his desk, he was in her office, and whenever she wasn’t in her office, she was at his desk. She often found that she missed her old job as receptionist, but nothing could replace the newfound feeling of making a difference in the world. She used to admire JJ’s ability to stand before nosy reporters and judgmental cops, and here she was, blowing herself (and the team) away with these hidden abilities. 

Before, she was aware of the general gist of the job, she knew it wasn’t easy, but the team often kept the gory details to themselves around her. Now, she had to pick and choose the gore which constantly left her with the question of whether she’d made the right choice or not. The intensity of the job had slightly damaged her spirits, but thankfully she had an amazing support system. She couldn’t have done it without Spencer’s unending support, or Hotch’s for that matter. Before allowing Y/N to accept the job, Hotch had made sure to warn her about the horrors first. She assured him she was ready, even though sometimes she felt like she wasn’t.

On the somewhat bright side, this also meant that she was around during most, if not all cases. This had Spencer jumping for joy, but it also terrified him to his bones. All his emotions were always on overdrive when it came to her. He was glad that he didn’t have to spend so much time away from her, but it simultaneously meant that he was constantly worried for her safety. He never wanted her to go into the field, ever. No matter the amount of combat training she did with Morgan. She found that she preferred interviewing victims’ families and controlling the press to facing serial killers head on anyway.

Sometimes it was easier for her to control the press from Quantico, so it wasn’t uncommon for her to stay back during cases. One particular case had dragged on for much longer than any of them had expected. The whole team was gone in Wisconsin and Hotch had asked her to stay back and hold down the fort at Quantico. The team ended up staying there for two weeks. It was the longest she’d ever been away from Spencer. Nightly calls weren’t enough for them and Spencer truly hadn’t experienced such an emptiness without her before.

As he scooped her into his awaiting arms right outside the elevator when they finally made it back to the office, he breathlessly declared to her, “Marry me.”

She pulled back from the tight embrace to examine his features, “What?” She said, voice thick with confusion.

“I don’t want to be away from you for that long ever again. I don’t want to wait anymore. Marry. Me.” He enunciated firmly. She broke out into a grin.

“Okay, I will.” She laughed and he squeezed her once more, savoring her warmth.

“This isn’t the official proposal by the way, you deserve something far nicer than all this, but I just want you to know that I’m ready if you are.” Spencer clarified and she threw her head back with laughter. Spencer’s heart soared at the sound.

Spencer took that statement and ran with it. He teased her every chance he got. At one dinner date they had planned, he had the nerve to begin his sentence with her full name, her heart dropping to her gut.

“Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor of...sharing this fine wine with me?” Spencer said smugly, resulting in a shocked, but somehow relieved scoff coming from her.

A different time, he decided to give her a false alarm during one of their daily lunch walks in the park nearest to Quantico. He knelt down to one of his knees in the middle of their promenade.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you...wait for me while I tie my shoe?” Spencer asked with a face-splitting grin. This time, she didn’t hesitate to shove his shoulder slightly, causing him to lose balance and almost faceplant into the pavement.

At this point, she truly had no idea when he was going to pop the big question. Knowing him, it could literally be at any point in time. She had to admit, though, he kept her on her toes. A month later, she was sure he’d pop the question during JJ’s wedding reception because of the way he was staring at her all night. He’d looked dreamy in his tux to say the least. Y/N was almost too shy to dance with him because of how magnificent he looked. What she didn’t know was that he was thinking the same exact thing about her. She looked exquisite in the evening gown she adorned and Spencer was absolutely enraptured by her. 

Being so surrounded by love and admiration, Spencer finally asked her to marry him the second they made it through her front door. They stood in the small hallway between the kitchen and the living room. She had just turned around from taking her heels off and was met with Spencer down on one knee, holding the most beautiful ring out to her in a navy blue velvet box.

“I had this elaborate speech planned, Y/N, I really did. I was going to talk about the stars, about the first conversation we had when I told you about the origins of yogurt, about how stupid we were for not realizing our love for each other earlier, but I realized that none of that matters right now. All I know is that this feels right, you make everything feel right. Will you marry me?” Spencer asked, his face incapable of hiding even a sliver of the adoration he felt for her.

“Yes, I’ll marry you in every lifetime and every universe.” She said, tears falling freely from her eyes. He sprang to his feet and wrapped her up in a long awaited embrace. He felt her body shake with wet laughter against his. He placed the ring on her finger and quickly kissed her passionately. Their giddy giggles flew through and around them.

Spencer knew she didn’t want a long engagement. Her previous engagement was hard enough of the both of them. Their jobs were just so demanding, it was hard to set a date and keep from pushing it back. Their wedding planner was beyond frustrated with them, but what can they do? They’re literally out there saving lives. And before they knew it, two years had passed them by and they were due to be married in two months.

But, alas, Spencer Reid seemed to have a knack for getting shot by unsubs right before weddings. While they were investigating a difficult case in Texas, Spencer was shot in the neck. Y/N was at the police station when she’d heard. She wasn’t sure who took her to the hospital to see him, everything was a blur since she got the call. She was plagued by the fear of losing him. 

She’d overheard Alex Blake and JJ discuss how he’d always wanted children when she arrived at the hospital. In the back of her mind, she screamed that she’d give him all the kids he wanted, if the universe just let them breathe. 

All too quickly, she was a sobbing mess in JJ’s arms. He’d gotten hurt before, he’d been in danger before, but she’d never been as close to it as she was then, it terrified her. Garcia had arrived and guided her to Spencer’s room. In another flash of events, there was a loud bang and Y/N had barely registered that a gun was shot inside the room.

The ringing of her ears subsided just enough to hear Spencer tell Garcia, “You saved my life, do you hear me?” 

That was the second time his life was endangered in the span of two hours. Y/N looked her fiancé square in the face.

“I don’t want to wait anymore. As soon as you’re up and well, we’re getting married.”

Exactly one week later, they’d rushed through whatever they could rush through. Thankfully her dress was ready and altered, the cake was made to order, but sadly, they’d given up their gorgeous, gorgeous venue. Rossi was more than happy to offer up his backyard and the couple found it more than fitting to commemorate their love in the very location where Spencer had first confessed his feelings to her and where she’d returned them later. 

Life truly came full circle as Spencer stood in the same exact spot where he’d confessed his undying love for her the very first time. Spencer did everything he could to keep from sobbing like a child as he saw the owner of his heart stand before him, just like she did that day, but this time adorning her white dress.

Being the romantic sap that he was, he recounted almost every milestone in perfect detail during his vows. Through the unrelenting tears, of course. Y/N’s words came out wobbly and wet, but she managed to get her vows out. There really was not a single dry eye in the small, intimate crowd. The entire team had watched them fall in love oh-so-gracelessly over the years.

Their ceremony was beautiful. It was different than JJ’s had been, it was more special to the two of them. Spencer was in nothing short of awe as he watched his wife sway with Henry wrapped up in her embrace on the dance floor. Henry’s little arms and legs were wound tightly around her, the bottoms of his shoes surely smearing dirt all over the back of her dress, but she didn’t care. Not when Spencer was looking at her like that. His throat clogged itself up as she caught his eye and smiled sweetly. The same thing was on both their minds, it was like an unspoken agreement had been made through some kind of special, invisible bond between them.

He couldn’t wait to have a family with that woman.

And they’d wasted absolutely no time. Three months after the wedding, Y/N announced that she was carrying a baby Reid. Tears and cheers erupted for them all. They had found the perfect little house with the help of Morgan. It was perfect for their growing family.

Pregnancy wasn’t easy on Y/N at all. Flying all around the country and helping catch serial killers was not an activity that pregnant Y/N wanted to engage in. The team had been more than forgiving as they dealt with her mood swings and crazy cravings. It also turns out that soon-to-be mama Y/N was especially helpful in chewing out unsubs in the interrogation room, but as useful as she proved to be, she couldn’t wait to pop the little peanut out.

Spencer and the team were rushing off the jet to the hospital as they’d heard Y/N had gone into labor. Spencer had only missed the very beginning and was by her side the entire time after that.

They welcomed baby Emelia Reid into this world on a chilly September night. Spencer was over the moon, he was borderline obsessed with looking at the baby and keeping a hand on her at all times whenever she was in the room with them. 

He waited for his mother to fly out a few days later just to meet baby Emelia. He wept as he watched his mother kiss the top of his baby girl’s head. No other feeling could ever compete with the one he experienced at that moment in time.

Emelia had grown into such a radiant little girl. She was a miniature hurricane of chocolatey brown curls and rosy red cheeks. She’d already blown her parents away as her intelligence only seemed to increase with time. The similarities she had to her father were astonishing. She was a daddy’s girl through and through, but Y/N didn’t seem to mind sharing him. Not when the sight of them together instantly melted her heart every single time.

Diana tried to be as active in the baby’s life as she could possibly be, however her condition began to worsen over time. Eventually, Diana had had to move in with Y/N, Spencer, and Emelia. Thankfully, their house was large enough, but taking care of a toddler and Diana while being 6 months pregnant was inarguably too much to handle for Y/N. She’d found out that she was pregnant again, and they were expecting another baby girl. Y/N had also taken time off from work to focus on the dilemmas at home. 

The at-home nurse was doing the best she could since Spencer was always either at work or off finding Diana some kind of new treatment. He’d told Y/N that he’d been going to Mexico to get her some special medication and so she didn’t mind as long as she’d been kept in the loop of where and how he was. Spencer Reid never kept anything from his wife. They were always transparent with each other. Y/N was glad that he’d told her about his trips down to Mexico, or else she’d be out of her mind looking for him. 

But suddenly, during one trip, he’d stopped answering her calls. Complete silence on his end. It had driven her absolutely mad. It was only until JJ visited her the next morning informing her that Spencer had been arrested in Mexico for the illegal possession of drugs and possibly murder. If JJ hadn’t been around to catch Y/N before passing out, she or the baby would have been in extreme danger.

But Spencer Reid never kept anything from his wife. She’d been adamant that she would have known if he was struggling with drugs again. The last time she’d seen Spencer was during the trial. He’d looked so terrified as they pronounced him guilty and shoved him away from her. From his family. He’d spared Y/N one last broken glance, his gaze drifting down to her swollen belly. Their second child was on the way and he won’t be there to meet them. He mouthed a heartfelt apology before they took him away. Y/N wept and wept until everyone but the team left the courtroom.

“How am I gonna do this, Pen? How am I gonna do this without him?” She spoke between breathy sobs. The baby, Emelia, Diana. She couldn’t do it on her own. It would break her.

“You won’t be alone, Y/N. We’re all going to help you.” Penelope reassured her, but the only thing that was capable of reassuring her was currently in handcuffs behind closed doors.

She’d had to keep Spencer’s whereabouts from Diana and Emelia. She’d told him that he was consulting a case somewhere in California, where he also had access to the beach. Up until that lie wasn’t viable enough. Emelia’s questions about her daddy absolutely tore through what remained of her heart.

Diana’s caretaker had apparently quit and a new one came by. Y/N thought something was off, but she pushed that thought aside as she worried over her husband and the baby that they were due to meet any day now. Two months had passed and Spencer was still incarcerated, he hadn’t allowed Y/N or Emelia anywhere near the prison, but she’d broken down at the possibility of him being locked away for 25 years.

She’d visited him once, right after the birth of their second baby. They’d had another beautiful baby girl, whose name had been decided long ago by the two parents. Baby Adaline. The delivery was immensely difficult without him, but she pushed through. Y/N had almost begged Emily to pull any, any strings she could to get them to meet since Spencer said he’d only agree to see them if he could ensure their privacy and safety. They’d managed to get them in with Spencer’s lawyer, Fiona. Y/N cooed to Adaline as she cradled her in her arms, wrapped in her little blanket. The cooing served as a distraction as she waited anxiously for Spencer to meet them in the small little room. 

Suddenly the doors emitted a loud buzzing noise, prompting a loud cry from Adaline. A sound that was strange to echo off the walls of this place. Y/N shushed her gently until she caught sight of her husband walking through the door. Tears gathered in her eyes as she took in his disheveled state. His eyes found hers and quickly flitted to the squirming bundle of joy in her arms. Spencer’s lip wobbled as he entered the room. Y/N shifted Adaline to rest upon her shoulder as she wrapped one arm tightly around Spencer. No touching was allowed, but the guards pretended to look the other way, courtesy of whatever strings Emily had pulled.

The three of them bawled against each other in an unceremonious reunion. Spencer at last pulled away from his wife and stared at the baby in the bundle. He hesitated to carry her. His hands were clean, but they still felt so dirty. How could his hands hold this beautiful gift of life while they’d been committing such heinous acts within these very walls? But one utterance from his wife made that all vanish.

“It’s okay, Spence.” She smiled slightly, angling Adaline towards him. 

He gazed at Y/N closely, as if checking to see if she was sure. Y/N carefully handed her over to him and he instantly turned into less of a shell of himself and had begun to resemble the man that Y/N could recognize. He cooed to her softly, kissing her face repeatedly. Adaline instantly quieted down at her father’s touch.

The small interaction had fueled the pair for weeks. Spencer found a source of hope and was determined to see through to the other side. He would not rot away in his cell forever. The team continued to try and crack the case from the outside. Y/N was instructed to be more careful than ever. She often brought Emelie and Adaline to work with her. She had not been flying out with the team, preferring to stay close to her girls until Spencer was back.

On one of the days Y/N brought her girls to work, she’d found out that Diana had been missing. Her caretaker was accompanying her to visit Spencer in prison and then neither of them had been seen afterwards. They quickly identified the caretaker as Lindsey Vaughn. If Y/N had been on the case with them ten years ago, she would have identified her, but she was just another face to her. Y/N was livid, Vaughn had been around her children, she’d been inside her home. If Spencer didn’t get to catch the bitch, they better believe Y/N will.

Spencer was released quickly after the BAU proved his innocence. He was on his way to the office now. Y/N had been peering into Adaline’s carriage when she’d heard the high pitched voice of Emelia.

“Daddy!” Emelia exclaimed, racing across the bullpen to jump into her father’s arms.

“Hi baby. Daddy missed you so much.” Spencer said, hiding his tears in his daughter's hair. He held her tightly to his chest as he crossed the bullpen and made it to Y/N’s office. He put Emelia down gently and scooped his wife into his arms.

“You’re back.” She said softly through tears. 

He hooked his chin over her shoulder and sniffled strongly. He might not be the same man he was before, but he still loved her unconditionally. He still loved all three of them unconditionally.

“I’m here.” He repeated the phrase out loud like a mantra.

And he was here, but he also wasn’t. His wife could tell that the man who stood before her had endured hell, but when he cradled their baby girl so tightly to his chest, it was hard to imagine him as anything other than a loving, gentle father, and a compassionate partner. She knew she’d hold onto that thought forever. Once they retrieved Diana, they knew they could face anything.

As long as they were together.

And they knew they would be, for as long as the universe would allow in this life, and then the one after that.

~THE END~

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thank you for all the love, feedback is always appreciated!

[httpnxtt]

Wallpaper - Reid x Reader

A/N: Hello Lovelies! I attempted some pure fluff this time to show my love to my bby, @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ ! I wanted to shower her with love and this was the only way I could think how, so I hope you enjoy! Shoutout to @imagining-in-the-margins​ for the adorable prompt! You’re amazing and ily! 

Also shout out to my amazing beta buddies, @sunlight-moonrise​ , @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ , and @definitelynotkatesblog​ !

Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: FLUFFY FLUFF

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the world of darkness that surrounds our lives, it’s important to find the light in the world. Luckily for me, our paperwork days meant being sat across from my best friend, Spencer Reid. The man whose smile lit the entire room, who could drop everything in an instant for someone he loves; who makes my days brighter at the simplest, “Hi.” The curly-haired genius spends his days surrounded by the worst humans in existence, using his brain to help the world before helping himself. With his IQ of 187, his mind works a million miles a minute, but sometimes he still needs help. That’s where my job comes in. 

I joined the BAU a year ago, and was instantly drawn to the resident genius. He was timid when I first met him, as if scared the world would break him with everything it decided to throw at the sweet man. Slowly, I captured the heart of our resident genius, who was now my best friend. Over the course of the years, he became my favorite person. On cases, I would make sure he took time to drink water and rest when possible, bringing him snacks when his brain was wrapped in his geological profile. I made it my mission to teach the genius to love himself as much as he loves others. 

Paperwork days were when I really got to see his bright smile and soft laughter. It became a running joke between us. Whenever Spencer would get up to grab us coffee from the kitchen, I would steal his phone to change the wallpaper to something silly. Every time he would check his phone for updates, he would see a new silly picture and grace me with a shining smile and chuckle. Even for these split moments in time, I knew I had distracted him from the morbid things littering our desks. His smile lit up the bullpen, leaving butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, my own smile gracing my lips. He would always shake his head before changing it back, already knowing he would find a new wallpaper later that day. Luckily for me, today was a long, dragging paperday which means I had plenty of time to meet my Spencer-Smile quota for the day. 

First thing this morning, I got my hands on his cell. Pre-coffee brain, the only thing I could think of was the most ridiculous picture of our own Derek Morgan. The image was one Penelope graced me with, a photo he attached when shamelessly flirting with her during our downtime. As quickly as I could, I set the lockscreen and gently placed the device back on his desk, almost in the right spot although I’m sure Spencer would notice it had been moved. I sit back in my chair, slowly starting to spin as I see Spencer make his way back to our desks, two mugs in hand as his glasses begin to slide down the bridge of his nose. I shoot up to wrap my hands around the steaming mug, the warmth like a warm hug. I pull the mug up to my face, smelling the delicious scent of coffee created perfectly to my specifications. Sometimes boy genius’ memory has its perks. Settling back at my desk, I sort through the mound of files for the day in anticipation. 

Looking up from my own cases, I look across to Spencer who has his face buried in a file, his finger trailing down the pages taking my mind into places it shouldn’t go. After an hour he still hasn’t seen his wallpaper, plastering a frown on my face. I pull out my own device, immediately texting a gif of Stitch saying hi to “Pretty Boy”, hearing his phone ding almost immediately. Looking across to Spencer, he almost spits out his coffee seeing the ever flirtatious Derek Morgan gracing his screen. The reaction sent me into a whirlwind of laughter, my head thrown back, almost cackling at the poor man. 

As I calm down, wiping the tears from under my eyes, I see Spencer looking at me with his signature smile, making my heart flutter. 

“That was a good one, Y/N. You really got me this time.” He chuckles, looking at this screen again before looking back at me. “Might have been your best one yet,” he says as he works to change it back. The poor technophobe had to learn because of me how to change his wallpaper since he realized I wouldn’t stop anytime soon. He’s still a tad slow but watching him try to work through it makes my heart happy as I return to my own files. 

As I try to work through my own files, an IM from the tech queen herself pings my computer. 

P.Garcia: “Changed Boy Wonder’s wallpaper again? When are you going to tell him?! Your puppy eyes give you away, darling. You can’t lie to me.”

Y/N: “Darling Penelope, I would never lie to you. Alas, you continue shipping something that will never sail..” I reply to her, hoping she gets the gist.

Although Spencer lives in my thoughts rent free, that’s where he’ll stay. As much as I wanted him in my arms instead, it simply wasn’t going to happen. I close my messages before trying to actually get some work done. I’d rather not stay late yet again due to my tendency to be a bit scatterbrained. 

***

Coffee break number two rolls around and I already have the perfect picture planned. Reid scurries into the kitchen desperate for more coffee and I rush to his desk. Pulling out his phone, I send an image to it before saving it. It is one of my all time favorites. A movie night Spencer and I shared. I convinced him to let me pamper him under the reasoning of some well deserved self-care. Surprisingly, the man went along with my antics, although fighting me on this gem. The image is a sneaky one that Reid doesn’t even know exists. During our self-care night, I tried to take pictures of him looking as cute as ever, but he kept blocking me. Luckily, Spencer fell asleep before his mask came off leaving the perfect opportunity to snap the evidence. There is Spencer in all his glory, curled up on my couch in the light blue robe I saved for him that was covered in little clouds, a purple face-mask clinging to his cheeks, trying to avoid his eyebrows.To top it all off, he wore a bright pink headband to push his hair back decorated with bunny ears. The picture shows the soft side of our boy, a side I wished he would show more. 

Throwing his phone back on his pile of files, I sit back at my desk, nonchalantly sipping my now cold coffee. Seeing Reid shuffle back to his desk, I wait for him to pick up his phone with my mug resting against my mouth. Spencer readjusts his frames as he settles in his chair, looking me in the eyes before looking at his phone. Instead of his normal chuckle, a pout graces his plush lips. Although his lips are normally a favorite of mine to stare at, the pout twists my gut. 

“I thought you didn’t get any pictures of me that night,” he mumbles, giving me puppy eyes that could give mine a run for their money. 

Despite my pride in the picture, his tone makes me feel just a little guilty. “I’m sorry, Spence, I thought you were so cute when you were napping. I didn’t want to make you upset.” I pout, the butterflies disintegrating as the moments pass. Rummaging through my drawer, I find my sack of trail mix and toss it to the dark-eyed man. “Here, take my trail mix, I know it’s your favorite,” I offer, a small smile painted on my face. Spencer’s eyes land on me, lips turning up once more into the smile that never fails to take my breath away. 

“I appreciate it, but I can’t take it. I know it’s basically the only thing you eat on your lunch break.” His call out causes heat to rise into my face. 

I stay insistent though. “I want you to have it. I don’t like making you sad.” I shoot back, giving him my infamous puppy eyes. Even Aaron Hotchner falls for them, there is no way the doctor could resist. 

“Okay,” he starts, automatically having me rush across to his desk to give him the snack. “On one condition,” He finishes, making my face fall once more. Spencer never lets people just give him a present, he always does more for others. “Since you’re giving me your snack, you come with me to get a proper lunch since you need food and I could use the hour away from these files.” He smiles at me, already munching on the trail mix so I have no choice but to agree. 

“Deal. BUT, I want pancakes if we’re going,” I reason with him, plopping back in my chair. 

“IHOP it is.” He chuckles, the sound resonating in my brain as we both hurry through our respective files. 

***

At coffee break number three, Reid stands from his desk, scrunching his nose to fix his glasses as he reaches across to snatch my mug from my desk. Hiding my face in the file until he walks away, I turn to see him shaking his head, knowing I’m about to change his wallpaper yet again. 

Once I see him turn the corner, I stretch over to grab his phone he conveniently left square in the middle of his desk, giving the man yet another excuse to talk to her. Flipping through the camera roll, I hear a chuckle from the desk a few feet away. Looking over, I find the one and only, Derek Morgan shaking his head at me. 

“What’s so funny, Thunder? Sad the attention isn’t on you anymore?” I tease him while trying to find the perfect picture. 

“I just find the pining that goes on between two supposedly brilliant people entertaining.” He chuckles as my jaw drops, turning to him. “Come on, Princess. You don’t think we don’t all know you and Pretty Boy fancy each other, do you? It’s obvious to everyone except the boy himself.”

I shake my head. “He’d never see me that way, Morgan. This is just for shits and giggles.” I breathe out, settling on an image of our feet in front of the TV screen, mismatched socks adorning our feet while “Beauty and the Beast” plays in the background. He sports a neon pink sock along with a navy blue sock covered in planets, while my feet claimed one sock covered in different moon phases, the other covered in little alien creatures. Placing his phone on his desk, I settle back at my own, shooting Morgan a closing, “You’re just seeing things, Morgan.” before burying myself back in the file at hand. 

Moments later, my mug is sat directly in front of me before Reid sits at his own desk. Automatically picking up his phone to check, my tummy flutters at the smile he releases while staring at the screen for a moment before looking at me. Making eye contact, I notice a slight pink tint to his cheeks, before he looks back at the image.

“This might be my favorite one yet,” he murmurs, adjusting his glasses without looking away from the screen. I feel my cheeks heat up, getting warmer by the second, but I cannot tear my eyes from the man who holds my heart without even knowing it. 

***

“Hey Y/N. Ready for lunch?” Spencer asks, tearing my eyes from the IMs Garcia floods me with daily. 

“Ready when you are!” I reply, jumping at the opportunity to get away from the files scattered on my desk. You’d think serial killers would take a day off sometimes. Shuffling to my feet, I grab my keys from my desk and grab Spencer’s hand, dragging him to the elevator with me.

“Seems like it’s more ready when Y/N is.” He chuckles, straightening his glasses once he comes to a stop in front of the silver doors. As we step in, Garcia frantically waves at us, before sprinting into the bullpen as the doors close.

“Well, you’re in luck, Pretty Boy. You get me as your personal chauffeur to lunch.” I beam at him as he goes bug-eyed.

“Lucky? In your death trap, Y/N?” He chuckles, putting a flabbergasted look on my face.

“Hey!” I yell at him, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “My car has lasted 15 long years I’ll have you know, and she runs as smooth as ever,” I shoot back, immediately leaving him behind when the doors open. “Maybe I’ll just go get pancakes without you then.” It’s playful when I lock all the car doors except for mine, and he knows it.

That doesn’t stop him from playing along. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry Y/N! Will you ever forgive my poor soul?” he jokes, holding both his hands over his heart as he begs for forgiveness. Unlocking the doors, I giggle at his antics before heading to the restaurant. 

***

“Y’all ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?” The server returns to the table with our coffees, along with an apple juice for my inner child. 

“Yes ma’am. Can I get the plain pancakes with eggs, as well as a side of bacon and sausage?” Spencer asks while gathering both our menus for her. “Of course, sugar. What about you darlin’?” she turns to me as Spencer dumps almost the entire sugar container into his mug. 

“I’ll just have the chocolate chip pancake, please!” I smile at her as I steal what’s left of the sugar from the man across from me. 

“No problem, that’ll be right out for y’all.” She smiles at us before heading off to the kitchen. 

“Did you know chocolate chips were invented by Ruth Wakefield because she decided to chop up a chocolate bar and add it to her cookie batter?” Spencer looks to me as he starts with factoids. “And white chocolate isn’t even truly chocolate! White chocolate is made with a blend of sugar, cocoa butter, milk products, vanilla, and a fatty substance called lecithin. Not that it’s a surprise, considering it doesn’t even taste like chocolate. Probably because it doesn't contain chocolate solids.” he rambles as I stare at him with stars in my eyes. “However, dark chocolate is loaded with organic compounds that are biologically active and function as antioxidants. These include polyphenols, flavanols and catechins, among others. Dark chocolate also has a list of different benefits proven from consumption.” He finishes, taking a sip of his coffee as I continue staring at the man.

“What ever would I do without you, Boy Wonder?” I say, seeing Spencer’s face heat up at my remark as he hides behind his mug. 

“M-me?” He asks, as if he couldn’t believe it. He shakes his head in disbelief before I could respond, showering me with many more factoids while waiting for our food rather than accept my compliment.

“Alright, here’s your food darlin’. Let me know if there’s anything else I could do for y’all.” The server tells us, shooting us a smile before moving onto another table. Spencer takes his time cutting up his food, dousing his plate in more syrup than pancake. Meanwhile, I dig into my pancakes as if it’s the last thing I will ever eat. 

Halfway through my own pancakes, I look up to see Spencer looking directly at me with a look I couldn’t quite distinguish. 

“Why are you staring at me?” I ask him, almost seeming to pull him from a trance before responding. 

“Oh. Uh, you have chocolate on your face.” He tells me, seeing my face flush at the information. I grab my napkin and quickly wipe my lips making sure not to miss a spot. Little did I know, there wasn’t a single speck on my face. 

“Is it gone?” I ask him, hoping not to embarrass myself further. 

“Oh, yeah it’s gone.” he smiles, returning his focus onto his own plate. 

Going back to eating, I keep sneaking pieces of the bacon off Spencer’s plate, causing him to smile each time. 

“Hey Spence. I have a question for you.” I tell him, shoving a piece of bacon in my mouth. 

“And what would that be, Y/N?” He asks me, sipping his coffee. 

“Why is it every time we come here you order sausage and bacon, if you never touch the bacon?” I ask him, looking at him with a puzzled expression. 

“Would you like my honest answer?” He pushes back, as if I would want anything else from him. I nod with a mouth full of pancakes, earning a smile while he responds. “Because I know you’ll always steal the bacon from my plate but will never actually order it yourself.” He smiles at me, returning to his own food leaving me speechless and even more red.

Finishing up our plates, Spencer takes initiative to organize all of the empty dishes so our server has less work. Giggling at his antics, I pull out my phone to check the time, seeing we still have plenty of time before our break is over. 

“Are we getting milkshakes?” he asks me, sipping the last of his coffee before adding the mug to his carefully organized dish-pile. 

“Of course we’re getting milkshakes, what kind of question is that, Spencer?” I look at him, almost appalled he would assume we weren’t. “We each have a sweet tooth I’ve ever seen matched by anyone else, why would you ever assume I would say no to a milkshake?”

“I wasn’t sure if we had the time, I didn’t want to make us late.” He explains, shaking his head yet again at my child-like antics. 

When the server returns, we both order the largest mint-chip shakes they had before returning to our usual banter in waiting. Not long after, the server returned with a single shake. 

“I’m so sorry sugar, apparently we only had enough ingredients for one mint-chip. Can I get y’all something else?” The server asks us, feeling bad she couldn’t fulfill our order. 

“You take the mint-chip, Spence. I’ll order something else.” I push the shake toward him as he blocks it from getting to him. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not worried about it.” He replies, fighting me over a milkshake. 

“Spence-” I begin to argue before he abruptly cuts me off. 

“Would you like to share the shake with me, Y/N?” he asks me, looking me directly in the eye. I froze for a moment, taken aback at the offer from the germaphobe in front of me.

“If that’s okay with you, Spence. Then, sure!” I respond, checking if it was okay with him. 

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t okay, Y/N.” He shoots back, chuckling at me before asking the server for two straws. The man in front of me steals more and more of my heart with every passing moment.

***

Going up the elevator to the BAU was a constant battle between us. Spencer secretly gave the server his card so I wouldn’t even have a chance to fight him on paying. 

“You gave me your trail mix, Y/N! That’s the whole reason I asked you to get lunch in the first place! Why would I let you pay when I extended the invitation?” He shoots at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Shooting him a look of discontent, we both sit back at our desks, feeling 2 pairs of eyes staring at us from a few desks over. 

“Don’t look now, but I think Tweedledee and Tweedledum are staring at us.” I lean over to whisper. Reid tries his best to look up at them, nonchalant as possible. Despite the boy being a genius, he is anything but sly, looking just in time to see Derek and Penelope snap their heads to whatever was on his desk. Giving them a smile, Reid picks up his own file to return to his own tasks for the day. However, the task only lasted so long before the genius needed yet another cup of coffee for the day. Heading off to the kitchen, I quickly grab the phone he left on his desk on his break, trying to plan the perfect image. 

Before I could get far, I was abruptly stopped in my tracks. Staring at the homescreen on his phone, I couldn’t understand how I hadn’t noticed this before. Had this been in front of my face the entire time? Staring at the screen, I see myself and Spencer from our weekly movie nights. I had all of our silly photos, yet I had never seen this one. I see myself, puffed out cheeks with my eyes crossed, pulling at my ears to make myself look like a monkey, but my eyes can only look at Spencer. He hadn’t made his silly face. Instead, the man before me is staring directly at me, the sweetest smile across his lips. His little nose scrunch in full effect, his beautiful hazel eyes creased in the corner from his smile. That smile that could melt my heart in two seconds flat. Staring at the screen for what felt like centuries, I refocus on my surroundings when I hear his soft voice behind me. 

“Wow, Y/N. Getting a little slow with the changes now, are we?” He laughs, before noticing the look on my face. Stopping dead in his tracks, he looks at me confused more than ever. Not being able to form words, I raise my hand to show him the wallpaper, the perfect image of us. His eyes go wide, his mug almost slipping through his fingers.

“Y/N, I-” He starts. 

“Spence… Where did this picture come from?” I ask him, looking back at the screen before me. “I’ve never seen this one before,” I whisper, before Spencer puts his hands over mine, the mug now living on his desk. 

“I, uh. I took this one before making a face, I just couldn’t resist.” He whispers, pulling my chin up gently between his two fingers, looking me dead in the eye. “Y/N…” He starts, glancing down before gazing back at me with the same look I saw at the restaurant. “I couldn’t resist because I wanted to keep a physical copy of one of the happiest moments of my life. And I care about you... More than care about you! You make my days so much brighter when you’re around. You’re the only person to ever know me, the real me. And I..” he trails off, working his confidence up to finish his thought. “I love you, Y/N. And that picture was saved, locked away on my phone so I could be reminded how much you mean to me, and how much you care on some of my darkest days. I love you, Y/N. It’s the only thing I have locked away because it’s the moment I knew I was in love with you.” He finishes, breathing out as he waits for me to react. Stunned into silence, I stand there looking at the man, seeing his face turn to panic. “It’s okay if you do-” He starts, stunned when he is cut off by his plush lips being covered by my own. He slides his hand onto my cheek, holding my face as he returns the affection. 

Pulling away, I look him dead in the eye, I pull out of his embrace to my own desk, grabbing my phone. Returning to his side, I unlock my phone to show him my own hidden homescreen, a grin spreading on my cheeks from the flood of emotion. From our self-care night, it is quite possibly my favorite image of the man. He was in his robe, bunny headband and mask, but he was trying to block the images from being taken. His hand was raised in an attempt, but I could hear the laughter radiate from the image, the smile making my heart swoon at every glance. Looking between me and the image, Spencer’s jaw drops at my own revelation, before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. Burying my face in his neck, I murmur my own “I love you.” Before a whistle from the peanut gallery beside us breaks it up. 

Shooting a look to Penelope, I see she has the biggest smile plastered on her own face, her rosy cheeks probably stinging from the sheer joy painted on. Morgan sitting beside her lounges back in his own chair, shooting a wink our way. 

Returning to our respective seats, I can’t help but steal glances at the man beside me. When he catches me, I can’t help but giggle.

“Hey Spence. How long was I oblivious to your homescreen?” I ask him, curious as to how much of a dumbass I truly was. Seeing his cheeks flush pink, he turns to me with guilt in his eyes, 

“Y/N.. as much as I would love to take the credit, I don’t know where the wallpaper came from. I can barely change it back after you mess with it.” He confesses, a shy smile on his face. Laughing at his technophobe ways, it finally registers that he didn’t actually set the wallpaper. 

“Wait, then who changed it?” I ask him, before hearing stilettos and boots scurrying down the hall, laughter trailing behind them. Looking back at my boy, those eyes stole all my words away, and that smile… the smile I had seen so many times before but never knew the intention, the smile I fell in love with, I knew he would forever be my always.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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