#oh i got my phd too

[volskayadottxt]

twitters melting down in real time so i guess ill be using this more again... looking for ow ppl since thats the only fandom im in nowadays, also i like rats. heres one of my rats monroe. a unit.

[lovedaisy02]

This always cracks me up a bit and I smile but Harley should have an M.D not a PhD or have both, but a lot of media have her character say she has a PhD. Her origin story says she is a psychiatrist which means she must be a DO/MD.

Since they keep screwing this up, just change it to her being a psychologist already

[kissmehardy]

New law that anyone who works in an office cant have an opinion on my job because they fundamentally cant understand what im doing

[digestionmachine]

snow mesa, colorado trail, july 2022

[roseband]

The defunding of public colleges was also very racial. With Nixon’s education secretary complaining that there were too many diverse and poor students there. It’s suspicious that tuition was added just as numbers of black/hispanic students were growing

There’s an advertising push to show how “bad” public colleges are,

I’ve literally had coworkers say I went to a school “not as good as theirs” in earlier jobs right out of college (CCNY alumn), but nearly all of my adjunct professors in art/design/marketing/web design classess also taught at SVA, Pratt, and the New School. We also were literally at the same job, and at some I was higher paid, and had no loans cause well, I went to CUNY. So I had the same education as coworkers, even sometimes having the exact same professors and curriculum as them, be at the same job, but because someone spent a premium amount of money for the same thing, they’d look down on it. 

(also CUNY/SUNY are free for first undergrad degree for NYS residents making under 125k again and people don’t know about it!!!)

The vast majority of my coworkers in my (pretty visible and don’t want to self dox) apparel job are CUNY/SUNY grads (mostly SUNY FIT), and people still have the “if it costs more it must be better” brainrot when choosing schools

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

sorry for diary posting so much on main but this is the last one today prommy

[tchaikovskym]

WE DID NOT GET THE FUNDING PROJECT FOR MY THESIS, a sad YEEEHAAWWWWWWW

[deadsetobsessions]

Writing Prompt… kind of? Definitely write more if you want but this was a cute little “fic starter” that popped into my mind.

——

Danny didn’t know the first thing about art. This is an important fact.

“Sam, why am I even here?”

“Suck it up, Casper.”

“The show or the school?” Danny privately thought Casper the Friendly Ghost was the best thing to have come around. It did wonders for improving relations between Amity and inhabitants of the Zone.

Sam smacked him on the arm. “You know which one. You’re just here to be the normie judge. You don’t need to know anything about art.”

“Everyone here is like an art acolyte or something, Sam! I’m an engineering newb in a room full of people with art PhDs!”

Sam rolled her eyes and checked her manicures. “If you call Fenton Works newb level, then the rest of the world would be Neanderthals. Seriously that’s why you’re here. The art’s gotta appeal to the untrained eyes too. I trust your judgement.”

Danny gave in. “Thanks, Sam. That means a lot.” He followed after Sam but after a moment, he whined, “But couldn’t you have taken Tucker? Dude’s got four untrained eyes!”

“He’s busy with his internship. And you were already in Gotham.”

They reach the exhibition, Sam and Danny being welcomed in. Sam’s parents, while not the richest of the rich, were known art connoisseurs and respected people in the communities that dotted around the world. On top of being the descendants of the man that invented the deli toothpick cellophane twirling device, that is. Sam was standing in their place today- begrudgingly- because they’d promised to pay for an entire month of Gotham architecture tours and a trip to Japan. After all, Sam had much of their knowledge too. If anyone could say anything about the Masons, it was that they were passionate in their chosen field. L

“The contestants are in the room next door. The judge panel is beginning.” The person at the door informed them. He gave them a slip of paper and a pen to mark their choices in each field. Danny breathed a sigh of relief and began wandering around.

After he wandered between the oil paintings- “oo, this one. Reason why… the vibes are nostalgic. I like it.”- and the various depictions of a specific ship, Danny was pulled to a stop by his core reaching out. He looked up and what he saw took his breath away.

It was just a photo.

But it felt like he was there, on that rooftop, crouched among the shadows and watching the early rays of muffled light hit the tops of his city. His core thrummed. It felt like protection. It felt like he was being fulfilled, like Danny was once more becoming Phantom and that he was watching over this city he’s beginning to understand.

Danny, almost fevered, scribbled down the name [A Robin’s Nest- by Tim Drake] as his number one choice to win the contest over all. And, at least, to win the first in the photography division.

——

“Oh, Ancients, are you okay?”

Danny had wandered around in the interim as the votes were tallied. He hadn’t been paying attention when he smacked into a little kid that could have been his little brother.

“Uhm. I’m good.”

Danny helped the kid up. “I’m Danny. I’m sorry I smacked into you. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“Yeah. I’m Timothy Drake. I’m good.”

Danny’s smile widened in shock. “Like the photographer? Oh, wow! I really loved that photo! It was amazing! It felt like I was up there with the vigilantes!”

As he spoke, Danny glanced around for the kid’s designated adults. Hm. That’s odd. Everyone and their parental figure was accounted for.

“Oh.” Timothy flushed. “Thanks! I hoped the judges liked it too.”

Danny smiled, a small secretive thing. “Oh, I’m sure they will. Will you tell me more about your photography?”

“Oh, if you want!”

——

[triptuckers]

feels like home - tyler owens x reader

Request: nope Pairing: tyler owens x reader Summary: after years, tyler is back in his home town. so much has changed, yet everything is the same Warnings: some swearing, mentions of a slight panic attack, there's a tornado (surprise!), some angst, thats it I think?? Word count: 2.5K A/N: I know nothing about tornadoes. I do know if glen powell asked me to go storm chasing with him I wouldn't hesitate. also running on literally 7% left of my battery but fuck it we roll!! enjoy!

It’s spring. Tyler’s favorite season. During this time of year, it’s peak tornado season. It’s when he’s in his element, doing what he loves.

He’s driving across the U.S. with his loyal crew, chasing the tornadoes wherever they go. And always, inevitably, he ends up in his hometown. It’s a small town, right in the middle of tornado alley. 

Over the years, the people had started building their homes with stronger foundations that could withstand tornadoes better. Every year, there was still a lot of damage, but less than before. Most families had lived there for generations, and didn’t have any plans to move. 

When Tyler pulls up to the local bar, his crew is energized and happy. They’d just finished chasing a rather intense tornado, and everyone is still high on adrenaline. They’re going out for drinks before going to bed, as tomorrow’s weather forecast showed good chances of another tornado.

Little did Tyler know, someone he knows very well has also picked tonight to go out for drinks.

You’re sitting at your usual table with a friend, blowing off some steam after a long day. You like the bar. Everyone knows each other, the bartenders know your drink order and always have it ready for you before you can even order it.

It’s one of the things you missed the most while you were away; the kindness of the small town. You know everyone here, and you always help each other out. Especially during tornado season.

When Tyler steps in the crowded bar, he instantly spots a few familiar faces. Old neighbors, childhood friends, friends of his parents. Then his eyes land on you. His breath hitches in his throat as he watches you laugh at something your friend says. He had no idea you were back.

You look up when you see a group of people approaching you from afar. That’s when you see him. Exactly how you remember him, only a little older and with a belt buckle that says “tornado wrangler”. But you’d known him long before he called himself that.

You and Tyler had dated all throughout college, when you were both studying meteorology. Everyone knew you and while most couples broke up during college, you and Tyler stayed together.

But then Tyler started chasing tornadoes and you moved to a bigger city to enroll in an advanced PhD program. You agreed to part ways. It just felt too difficult to still be in a relationship when the two of you were always away.

But you never stopped loving him. You still watch all of his videos. And you don’t know it, but he reads all of your research articles.

He’s walking up to you now, and you forget you’re in a crowded bar with a friend. You don’t pay attention to the people he brought with him.

You smile warmly at him. ‘Hey, Ty.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t do that, lady.’ says one of Tyler’s friends. ‘He hates when people call him Ty.’ 

He looks at Tyler, expecting him to say something snarky or mean to you, but he’s got a soft smile on his face.

‘Hey y/n.’ he says. ‘Still around, huh?’

‘Still around. I moved back after graduation. Even though people in a small town can be a handful sometimes, with everyone knowing everything about everyone, it’s still home.’

‘Yeah, it is.’ says Tyler.

Suddenly a few women approach Tyler, stealing him away from your conversation. Apparently, word got out the tornado wrangler is in town, and everyone wants to talk to him.

Tyler waves at you before taking off.

You’re looking at him as he walks away, and your friend nudges you.

‘I thought you guys broke up?’

‘We did. He went to go storm chasing, and I wanted to study more. It just wasn’t practical to stay together.’

‘But you still love him.’

You turn to look at your friend. ‘I never said I stopped loving him.’

‘So… kind of like right person, wrong time?’

‘Yeah, I guess.’

‘What are you waiting for then? He’s here now, go talk to him!’

‘Nah, he’s too busy with his crew. It was nice to see him though.’

You spend the rest of your evening chatting with your friend. You try to focus on the conversation and to not let your mind wander off to Tyler. He really looked good. And his crew looked like they are fun to hang out with. 

When it’s getting late, you walk over to the bar to pay for your drinks. You say goodbye to your friend and head out to the parking lot. 

You see Tyler and his crew standing around his red pick-up truck. They’re laughing and sharing a drink. Tyler spots you and waves at you from where he’s sitting on the hood of his car. You wave back as you get in your own truck. 

‘Tell me, who is she?’ says Boone, pulling Tyler from his throughs as he watches you drive off.

Before Tyler can answer, Lilly starts listing off possible answers. ‘Secret fiancée? High school sweetheart? Admirer? Girl you went on three dates with and then left?’ she counts on her fingers.

‘No, none of that.’ says Tyler.

‘Definitely looks like a high school sweetheart. She’s your age, from around here. I bet you two grew up together.’

Tyler sighs. They’re not gonna let this go. And since they’re all going storm chasing tomorrow, they’re probably going to annoy him about it until he answers them.

‘We did grow up together. She was not my high school sweetheart, more like my college sweetheart. We broke up when I became a chaser.’

‘Let me guess, she always called you Ty?’ says Boone.

Tyler smiles at the memory. ‘She did.’

‘Ohhh my boy is whipped!’ says Boone, giving Tyler a playful shove. 

‘Oh, fuck off, Boone. That’s all in the past. She probably has someone waiting for her at home.’

But you didn’t.

You hadn’t really dated anyone after your breakup with Tyler.

Sure, you’d been on a few dates people had set you up with. But somehow, it never felt right. It never felt like it did while you were with Tyler. Loving Tyler was just so easy. Like you were always meant to find each other.

When he walked in that bar earlier tonight, he looked different. Older, sure. But also very handsome. You could tell he loved being a chaser. You wish you could’ve talked more with him, just the two of you.

The next morning when you wake up, it’s much earlier than you would have liked. You didn’t have any plans today and wanted to sleep in. As you lay in bed, you hear the rain slam against the window. You’re used to it, and it usually doesn’t wake you up. 

But as the rain starts to get heavier, you hear the wind is picking up as well. You knew there was a tornado warning for this morning, but it wasn’t for your town. The tornado was supposed to move away from you. 

That’s when you hear the siren. It’s almost part of your routine, it’s so familiar. You’re quick to get out bed, grabbing your phone. As you race downstairs to get to your shelter, you pull up the weather map. Which shows the tornado going straight for the main street of town. Fuck.

You hastily pull on your boots and open the backdoor to your garden, which is where your shelter is. You run toward it, the wind whipping in your face and the rain soaking your clothes in seconds. 

It takes a lot of strength to open the shelter doors with the wind threatening to slam them closed again. Finally, you make it inside after nearly falling down the stairs. You close the doors and bolt them. 

Now all that’s left for you to do is wait until the tornado is gone. You switch on the tiny light and pull out a blanket. There’s not much here except for some canned food. If Tyler saw this, you just know he’d immediately go to the store to get more supplies “just in case”. 

Thinking of him, you pull out your phone. You’re thinking about calling him, when you notice you have no service. The tornado must have already done a lot of damage. 

Meanwhile, Tyler is in the of the storm, near the tornado. They’re ready to get some great shots, but something changes. 

The tornado was supposed to head east and then die out, but it’s too slow. Tyler squints his eyes, looking at it. It’s almost as if it’s getting closer again. 

He realizes what’s happening at the same time Boone yells ‘It’s turning around!’

And he’s right. The tornado is heading west again. And Tyler knows what’s there. His hometown. Your hometown.

‘Oh, fuck.’ he says. He prays that you’re safe. He knows you’re smart, you’re probably inside the shelter by now. But he still worries.

They wait out the tornado before driving back to the town, prepared to help in any way they can. Debris is scattered throughout the streets. People walk around, helping each other or trying to salvage what’s left of their possessions in the rubble of the houses. 

Ever since they got back, Tyler has been trying to call you. You’re not picking up. He’s desperately telling himself you know the protocols. Hell, you’ve lived in tornado alley your entire life. You’re probably taking inventory of the damage on your property right now. 

Meanwhile, you’ve been listening to the storm outside. It’s all quiet now, you don’t hear any rain or wind, or sirens. You climb up the stairs and push open the doors. Except they don’t open. You check all the hinges, which are all still secure in place. Then why won’t the doors open?

You walk back down the stairs as you slowly start to panic. There’s probably debris blocking the doors. You have no cell service. Everyone is busy with their own houses. How long would it take for someone to find you?

You’re trying desperately to stay calm. People will find you eventually, right? But soon the tears are streaming down your face. You’d been in this shelter before, but it’s terrifying when you can’t open the door and all you have is a dim light, some canned food, a blanket and a phone without service.

Tyler’s crew is helping the people in town. But he gets increasingly more worried when you won’t pick up a single of his phone calls. 

Lilly notices his worried glances at his phone while she’s handing out food to people. ‘Tyler.’ 

He looks up at her. Lilly jerks her head to his truck. ‘Go see if she’s alright. You know where she lives, right?’

Tyler nods. 

‘Go. We’ve got it here.’ says Lilly.

He takes a quick look around. Lilly is right, his crew can handle it here. He just really needs to know if you’re okay. 

There’s too much debris on the road, so Tyler ditches his truck and walks the rest of the way. He could walk this route with his eyes closed. The longer he walks, the more destruction he sees and the more the uneasy feeling in his chest grows.

What if you were somewhere buried in the rubble of your house and he never got a chance to ask you if you wanted to try again? To see if you still had that spark you had when you were younger? He knew you wouldn’t let him go that easily. It had hurt you both when you broke up. And seeing you again, it reminded him of all the time you had spent together during college.

When he finally gets to your house, he sees it’s mostly still intact. The walls are still standing, but the roof needs fixing. Most of your windows are broken and a tree had fallen on your truck.

Tyler rushes to the front door, which is hanging off its hinges. He quickly enters your house.

‘y/n? y/n! Where are you?’

When you don’t respond, he tries calling you again. 

‘Come on, pick up, pick up.’ he mutters. Still no answer. Damn it.

Where would you go during a tornado? He’s forcing his mind to stop spinning out of control so he can think logically. Then he remembers you have a shelter in your backyard. How could he forget? He even helped you stock it in case something like this happened.

He runs through your messy living room, pieces of broken glass crunching underneath his boots. When he gets outside, he sees your shed – or what’s left of it – on top of the doors to your shelter.

‘y/n!’ he yells again, running toward the shelter.

You faintly hear a voice yelling your name. You briefly think you’re actually going insane at that point. Your panicked mind is making this up because it knows Tyler gives you a feeling of safety. Tyler isn’t here, he’s most likely outside still chasing the damn tornado. There’s no way he’d be here.

‘y/n are you in there? Give me a shout if you can hear me!’

But that’s unmistakably his voice. You hear sounds outside near the door.

‘Ty?’ you say quietly. 

‘Come on! Are you in there?’

‘Ty!’ you say, louder this time.

Outside, Tyler lets out a big sigh of relief as he continues to draw away the debris from the doors of your shelter.

Finally, he can see the handle of one of the doors and yanks it open. 

You squint your eyes at the sudden sunlight. Your eyes are quick to adjust, and they land on Tyler.

Standing there, breathing heavily, looking at you and holding out his hand for you to take.

‘Ty..’ you say softly. Fresh tears start to run down your cheeks as you take his hand and allow him to pull you out of the shelter. 

He pulls you against his chest, one hand coming around your back and the other on the back of your head, holding you against him.

You allow yourself to get lost in the familiar feeling. Tyler still wears the same cologne, and you still fit perfectly in his arms. God, you missed him.

‘I was so scared.’ you mumble. 

‘I know, sweetheart, I know.’ says Tyler.

He pulls back slightly so he can look you in the eye. ‘Are you hurt?’ he asks.

You shake your head. ‘I got to the shelter as soon as I heard the sirens, like you taught me.’

Tyler smiles at you. ‘You did good.’

‘I brought my phone but there was no service and then I couldn’t open the door and I-‘

‘y/n.’ says Tyler, cutting you off. ‘You’re alright. I got you out.’

‘Thank you.’ you say, burying your head in his chest once more.

The two of you stand there for a while. You both need this right now.

‘Ty?’ you say.

He hums in response. 

‘Please don’t leave again.’

He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

‘I’m never leaving you again, sweetheart.’

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love,Marit

[aperrywilliams]

Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)

------------------ 

Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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

Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.

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

Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can I help you?"

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

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

"Oh God, Spencer?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.

"When we were at college," you add.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cool."

Cool? What does that mean?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer huffs through his nostrils.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And that will stop you?"

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

---------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Will you say yes?"

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

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

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

---------

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

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

He is just being nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weird is an understatement, you think.

"You are right. Kind of it is."

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

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

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

"Great!"

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

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

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

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

"Of course," Spencer agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Almost two years," you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm still that obvious?"

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

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

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

The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.

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

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

"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."

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

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

"No beating around the bushes, uh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you think we made a mistake?"

Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.

You look at him, baffled. "What?"

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

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

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

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

"Did you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.

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

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

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

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

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

---------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You fucking kidding me!"

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

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

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

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

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

You have questioned yourself the same for years.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look at him, pretending not to understand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you okay?"

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----------

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----------

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

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

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

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

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

[sacredsorceress]

Meet Cute with Logan Would Include... || Wolverine Headcanons

pairing: logan howlett (wolverine) x mutant!f!reader summary: you're a new teacher at the school and logan is interested in you from your first meeting a/n: i'm admittedly projecting with the fact that reader teaches history but just a little blurb because logan's been on my mind and i need to get work done <33 lmk if you want me to make this into an actual fic!! warnings: none, all fluff

masterlist | inbox | tip jar (ko-fi)

when you first arrive at the school as a teacher (and late blooming mutant) charles introduces you to logan

logan has a typical scowl on his face and glances at you up and down

so you begin to worry that you've worn the wrong outfit or presented yourself poorly and now an infamous wolverine dig is about to be thrown your way

but instead, he takes a puff of his cigar, and looks back at charles

"you have a rule about only recruiting good-looking teachers or something?"

and what an array of relief (and butterflies) do you get from that

"yes, very funny, logan. however, y/n here has a phd. I've brought her on to teach the students"

"yeah? and what's your "gift"?" (mutation)

he has a coy look on his face

"oh logan, that's a bit personal..." you said with faux seriousness. "buy me a drink first."

for the first time, you saw him smile. a chuckle reverberated in his chest.

"fair enough."

after that interaction charles escorted you out of the room but as you went, logan's eyes were trained on you.

intrigued, he took another puff of his cigar and smiled to himself.

on your first night there, once all the children have gone to sleep and all the adults have gone to their own rooms for the night you hear a knock on your door.

and guess who it is?

you hate to admit it but god, does he look so hot and suave standing in your doorway.

logan's hair is in a typical mess and his flannel has a few more buttons undone than it did this morning,

and although he's rough around the edges and not as necessarily openly friendly as the others, he exudes confidence- especially as he leans against your doorframe.

"you said i owed you a drink."

although he takes you to the diviest dive bar in town, you have such a good time.

after a little bit of awkwardness, the two of you found your footing and you end up talking (flirting) for hours

well, in actuality, you do most of the talking but boy does he like listening to you talk and watching your eyes light up while you laugh at some of your own stories

on the way back to the mansion, he opens the car door for you

"thank you."

"don't mention it" (he's blushing a little)

on the ride back he tries to be as smooth as possible, one arm draped over the passenger seat while the other rests on the steering wheel

he keeps taking quick glances at you as you hum along to the song on the radio and even though you just met he's already thinking about how he could get used to this

he walks you back to your room and as much as he wants to make another move (and you do too) he doesn't want to mess up your relationship before its even started

i mean, you're living in the same place?? what happens if you don't like it?? and you end up hating him?? now his suave demeanor has crumbled under the weight of realising this is actually real and not a game

"I'll.. uh... be down the hall if you need me."

"thanks, logan" you smile softly and he thinks its the first time anyone's done that in over a decade and meant it

when he starts walking down the hall, you call out in a whisper

"oh and logan!" you pause. "sweet dreams."

before he can say anything the door of your bedroom shuts

a stupid, silly grin coats his face so big that he rubs his hand across his cheeks in fear anyone would catch the big bad wolverine becoming a softie for the teacher he's got the hots for

although you've just met, you've got him wrapped around your finger and he can barely believe it

shoving his hands in his pocket, logan shakes his head and laughs on the way to his own bedroom

"fuck."

[reidrum]

all yours if you want me | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: i think i really like this but if i proofread it one more time im gonna hate it so im just putting it out now lol. this is the full version of the sneak peak i posted last week woohoo ! also this is my first time writing smut so im sorry if it sucks but i hope y'all like it <3

summary: bau's got their first day off in weeks, and you're heading straight to the club to have some fun, you just didn't expect your coworker/crush to also be there while you're trying to forget him.

cw: 18+ minors pls dni, smut, p in v (dont be silly wrap ur willy), munch!spence, lowkey softdom!spence, suggestive dancing in public spaces, minor insecure reader, reader is afab and wears a dress and heels

wc: 4.6k

pls let me know if i forgot anything and let me know your thoughts pleaseee xx

it was the first friday night off you and any of the team members of the bau had in a long time, and you all were determined to spend it well. jj and hotch immediately went home to their families, penelope and emily decided they were going home to get some well needed rest, rossi went to a cigar club, not really sure what derek and spencer ended up doing, but you knew what you were doing tonight.

you’d had a long standing invitation from one of your college friends for a club night, and at first you’d decline because you’d get swept away on a case, and because you were hopelessly pining after your hot nerdy coworker dr. spencer reid.

spencer was smart in many ways, three PhDs, countless published papers, not to mention that eidetic memory of his. there was one thing that spencer was just fucking dumb at, and it was your shameless flirting at him.

like it annoyed you how clueless he was. you’d bring him coffee in the mornings with hearts drawn on it, fall asleep on his shoulder on the jet rides back, even complimenting his outfit or looks which made him flustered, but still nothing. your harbored crush seemed to stay just that, a crush. and while you’d hope he would get the hint he just hasn’t.

so you pull out your phone to text your friend. 

“barry’s at 9?”

“oh my god FINALLY. i’m there i'll pick you up at 8:30.”

you grin to yourself, this was good. you needed to get out and unwind for once.

you drive home quickly to hop in the shower before your friend comes to get you. throwing on a silk slip dress as your outfit of choice, you slipped your heels on and met your friend in the car.

walking into the club, you’re met with the thumping bass of the music playing and the staunch smell of alcohol, sweat, and sex.

it made you think about the last time you got laid, which was a really long time ago. and honestly you wanted to sleep with spencer so bad you hadn’t been making advances elsewhere. but that was going to change tonight, you were determined to have good slutty fun, and hopefully get laid.

your friend grabbed your hand and beelined to the bar, ordering two tequila shots each. once you downed them you moved to the dance floor and started preying for a target. as you’re scanning the room, you notice a familiar looking mop of brown hair standing next to bald headed man. a combo you knew all too well.

-

derek morgan was a player. and before he’s a player, he’s a damn good friend. which was his reasoning for dragging spencer out of his apartment to come out to the club and have fun.

“but i can have fun at home by myself morgan.”

“kid, you need to let loose once in a while. you are young, i’m just helping you take advantage of it.”

-

so now spencer’s at the club (a sentence he still struggles to believe) wearing trousers and navy button down shirt to which morgan had popped the top buttons open because ‘it gives the ladies a sneak peek’. he just rolled his eyes and went with it. he’s nursing a shirley temple at the bar, perusing the environment when he comes across a pair of eyes he knows like the back of his hand.

when you recognize the amber eyes you couldn’t believe your luck. of course, on the one night you’d decided to explore other options he shows up in the least expected place for him to be. so much for getting over him, you think. shyly raising your hand to wave, spencer returns the gesture. morgan takes note, “who are you waving t- oh, pretty girl is here huh pretty boy?” he nudges him.

a blush raises on his face. spencer thought you were attractive, like really attractive. you were a great addition to the bau and he admired your work ethic a lot, the day you walked into the bullpen wearing a fitted pantsuit had his own pants growing real tight. he still remembers when you introduced yourself and he couldn’t even get up without exposing himself. you thankfully didn’t think it was weird, and spencer was relieved when it was finally time to go home. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have nights where he wished you were the one finishing him off and not his rough hands. he didn’t think you’d like someone like him, and took all of your ‘advances’ as morgan calls them, as acts of kindness.

morgan laughs as he watches spencer’s iq deteriorate to below 50 staring at you, “do you what you gotta do man. but you better be going home with someone tonight okay?”

spencer nods and nurses his drink a bit and looks back to morgan to realize he’s already off dancing with some girls in the corner. damn.

after your distanced encounter with spencer, you decide it’s time to move on and have some fun on your own. you couldn’t be hung up on him anymore, at least not tonight. tonight was for bad decisions.

good thing bad decision walked up to you asking to dance, whatshisname leads you to the dance floor and puts his hands on your hips, swaying to the beats of t-pain and pitbull.

you didn’t know, but spencer was watching every move you made. he watched you get led to the dance floor, the way he placed his hands right on your ass and squeezed, and how he turned you around so you were dancing on his front with your back. he gripped his glass so tight the bartender had to tell him he’d have to pay if it breaks.

he gets it, you’re attractive. this is the kind of thing that happens to people who look like you. who wouldn’t want you? but then he watched it happen a second time. and a third. and a fourth and fifth, till he just stopped counting at nine for his sanity.

spencer was not used to the green monster taking over him, but oh god was he fucking seething with jealousy.

you realized spencer was watching you by whatshisname number five. he hadn’t moved from his spot and he was constantly staring in your direction. deciding to do a little experiment, you played up your dancing a lot more, acting more flirtatious, dragging the guy’s hands further down, and letting out open mouthed moans that you knew spencer couldn’t hear but could definitely see. you watched as his jaw shifted and his knuckles turned white as you danced with each guy, realizing the growing effect that you now had on him.

by whatshisname number nine, you casted your hook. making sure to face spencer and meet his eyes, you watched as they darkened when he realized you were looking right at him. spencer might’ve brushed it off as a coincidence, but then you winked at him. and he realized what you were doing—you were taunting him, and fuck was it working for him. the bulge in his pants grew uncomfortable that he had to stand up to not draw so much attention to it under the bar lights. 

you watched him stand up and adjust himself and you threw your line. when he looked back up at you, you made a come here motion with your index finger and a bite of your lip. spencer’s eyes darkened impossibly more, he paid for his tab and strode over to you.

sinker.

he pulled you from the man behind you, who muttered a ‘what the fuck’ and moved away. spencer pulled you flush to his chest and with a low voice in the crest of your ear he whispered, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about dr. reid, could you explain it to me?”

spencer tightens his hold on you and ghosts over your ear once more, “this is a dangerous game you’re playing, sweetheart.”

“a game you joined the second you walked over here.”

he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and matched the small smirk on your lips. game on.

the song changed to something with a more sultry beat, and you used the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck and let his hands guide your hips to the music. while he wasn’t much of a dancer, he could definitely keep a beat. it didn’t prove to be so difficult when your chest was pushing up on his own that he was just waiting for them to spill out. he realized he could feel your hardened nipples through your slip, the nubs rubbing friction through the fabric of their clothes. he moaned internally while he gripped your hips to pull you even closer. it was clear spencer seemed to be getting comfortable with moving your body and holding you close, but you couldn’t let that happen.

before the second chorus you turn around in his arms so your back is pressed up against his front, and you start dancing on him.

spencer’s taken by surprise, something you felt when his hands faltered the confident rhythm it kept up, and while he watched you dance just like this with all those guys it’s like his mind is blank now.

you recognize the song playing, collide by justine skye & tyga, and use the sultry beat to your advantage. you move your ass hard on his front, feeling his length pressed between your cheeks. you gesture for him to lean his head down and he lets out a low groan as you whisper in his ear, “all that for me?”.

a primal instinct starts to take over spencer’s being, and he grips your hips to meet his rutting from behind. spencer was desperate for any friction that could soothe the growing ache in his pants. you grinned as you felt take what he needed from you. it was quickly wiped off your face when you felt his hands inching dangerously close to where you really wanted him.  you place your hands on his with surprise and look at him, “what are you doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he threw back at you, “but if there’s something you’d like me to do, i’m all ears.” spencer grazes his fingers under the hem of your dress, toying with the lace band of your panties and slipping his fingers below it to stroke your inner thighs.

fuck. he turned it on you so fast it almost gave you whiplash. the provocative dancing was something you could handle, hell everyone on that dance floor was doing the same thing as you both. what you weren’t sure you could handle was him about to touch you in a public space. but, your body betrayed you as it turned you on to another plane. you look up at him with lust filled eyes and let out a breathy moan of his name. spencer collapses internally and stands his ground, “if you want something, beg me.”

spencer thinks he’s won the upper hand, and he’s feeling so smug behind you. he still thinks he has the upper hand until you reach down and place his middle and index finger in your mouth, circling your tongue around the digits.

“touch me.” you moan out, releasing his fingers.

spencer is dumbfounded how he’s the one about to burst out his pants when he made you beg for him. it should make him feel embarrassed at how close he was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. not when you in his arms pleading him to do something. you sounded so pretty, and who was he to deny a pretty thing like you?

his fingers continue their journey down, outlining the lace trim resting on your thighs. he hooks his fingers on the fabric to pull it aside and slips into you, going at an aching pace to gather the wetness and groaning out, “jesus, you’re so wet, was this all for me? you needed my attention that bad, baby?”

you whimper and grip his hand even tighter because you’re not sure if your legs are holding out any longer. it’s all so overwhelming—having his hands down your panties in the middle of the dance floor, the lewdity of the noises in your ear, the hard length pressing desperately on your ass. this is all you’ve ever wanted from him, to want you. and now it’s happening, and your brain can’t fire the neurons fast enough to process the moment. instead your body responded with your skin heating up with anticipation, heart beating out as much adrenaline to keep up. the daze is getting foggier by the second as he trails his fingers up and down your slit, spreading the wetness and circling your clit on the way up. and you think you’re about to get accustomed to the pace he’s set, when he delves between your folds and you moan out loud so abruptly that the nearby patrons looked around wondering where it came from.

you can feel spencer’s shit eating grin behind you as he moves his head down to leave love bites on your neck. if he can feel your bluff dissipating, he’s not saying anything. his fingers set a painfully slow rhythm, and you grind down trying to get any more friction to reach your peak. he’s hitting you in all the right spots that make you see the stars and beyond, leaning your head back on his chest as you barrel towards your climax. you feel yourself mere seconds away from reaching, and spencer suddenly pulls his fingers out, making you whine out in protest, “wh- what are you doing?”

spencer grabs your wrist and starts dragging you through the sweaty bodies surrounding you, tightening his grip with a small smirk as he passes a few of the guys you were dancing with earlier. suckers.

he pushes the doors open with a force and while the cool air is attempting to return your body to homeostasis, the anticipation of where he’s going overtakes you, “spence, where are we going wh-“ you cut off your sentence with a gasp as he handles you flush to the door of his car. then it’s just silence for a few moments. no loud bass or weird dudes, just the two of you. the only sound that can be heard are your breaths competing for prominence. you look up at him and focus on the details of his face illuminated by the moonlight, trying to read his expression. his honeyed eyes have fully darkened to a lustful hickory, and suddenly you felt like a gazelle being preyed on by a lion.

he reaches into his pocket and unlocks the car with a soft beep. it’s the focused eyes on you that drive you to open the door, but it’s the subtle silent nod of his head towards the car that makes you move inside waiting for him to join you. he climbs in after you, shutting the door and locking it.

spencer moves to the middle seat and allows his legs to spread open, he taps his thighs and faintly says, “come here.”

you shuffle closer and swing your legs over him, your dress rising up a little as you fully sit on his clothed crotch. and now you realize the corporeality of the moment. it’s like, really real now. all this time pining after the boy genius with no luck and now he’s got you in the backseat of his car and your panties crooked, waiting for you to move. the bravado you wore and so tightly held onto for a majority of the night comes crashing down like a shattered vase, and you’re not sure if you have any more in you to salvage the pieces. you may be a profiler, but try as you might you are not a mind reader, yet you so desperately want to know what he’s thinking. is it too much to ask what this means? will it overwhelm him to say you’ve dreamt about this moment for many nights, and how those dreams went on till the early morning when he’d stay and brush your hair back with a temple kiss. the whispers of sweet nothings sticking to you like honey as you got ready for the day. are these questions you even want to know the answer to?

you may not be a mind reader, but he is dr. spencer reid, who noticed your demeanor change after too long of a silence.

“hey,” he holds your chin delicately to your eyes, “it’s okay if you want to stop, i’m sorry for tak-“

it’s your turn to cut him off, “no! no i, i still want this, i just,” you falter.

“just what, baby?” he coos softly.

it makes tears well up in your eyes, you hope he can’t see them, “i’ve just wanted this for so long, and it’s probably embarrassing that i’m admitting this now of all times, but i don’t know if i can handle this meaning more to me than it does to you.” you confess quietly.

spencer listens to your admission and gingerly resecures his arm behind you, a position he thinks is starting to become second nature. he rubs soft shapes into the small of your back, “what makes you think that?”

“because i basically threw myself at you tonight, and it seems to be the first time you noticed me.” you say halfheartedly. 

“you think i don’t notice you?” he whispers, leaning in to leave soft kisses in the crook of your neck. spencer is dumbfounded, confused at how you reached such a conclusion. but as a man of science, he feels there’s only one way to prove himself. he breathes your name out, “can i show you how much i notice you? please?”

you nod, at least you could commit this moment to memory if it was all you’d have left of him. he presses his lips to yours for the first time that night, your breath faltering as he becomes more feverous with his attacks. slotting his tongue with yours, your hands move up to his silky hair to take purchase in. he lets out a groan as he pulls back from you, “i need to taste you.”

he guides your body to lean back on the center console, the only way his tall figure would be able to accommodate this position. your legs are still split on either side of his legs, using your hands to prop yourself up to watch his movements. he hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and slowly slides them down, moaning at the way your slick causes resistance as he pulls them off your legs. wrapping his arms under your thighs to lift you up to face level, he places small kisses on your inner thighs as he makes his way to your core. he places a final kiss on your center before licking a long stripe up to your clit. moaning out wantonly, he continues his ministrations and kitten licks all over you, circling back up to your clit after each round.

“spence..” you whine out. he moves his focus to your clit, circling and sucking till you’re squirming in his arms so much has to grip your thighs. your hands are fussing through his hair, gripping and pulling to find something to ground you. spencer then slips his fingers into your core for the second time tonight, and you lose it.

he’s pumping his fingers in and out, that all you can hear is the squelching noises of your cunt. adding another one, you’re unable to stay still anymore, as if you were before.

“oh my fuck, spencer. i’m gonna cu-, cum. please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” you moan out filthy.

spencer unlatches his mouth for a moment, “come for me, baby.”

your orgasm crashes down on you like a wave breaking on the shore. it’s all consuming, leaving you shaking and breathless and he lifts his head from between your legs and you see his chin glistening with you in the moonlight. the sight itself is so pornographic, you can’t help but shuffle back onto his lap to crash your lips back to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. he tangles his hands in your hair as you move yours between you both, unzipping his trousers to palm him through his boxers.

he breakily moans in your ear as you slowly pull back the band to take him out. the sight takes you by surprise, you knew he was big, you felt it on your ass while you were dancing. but seeing how it compared to your hand had you bulging your eyes.

“you’re so big,” you whisper. how the hell was that fitting inside of you?

spencer the mind reader places his hand on top of yours as you lazily stroke him, “we’ll go slow, don’t worry.” he can’t help but feel his ego inflate to the skies, he can’t remember the last time he had someone look intimidated by him.

nodding faintly, you gather the spit in your mouth and let it fall between you both to land on the flushed pink tip. you spread it up and down his length, setting a slow pace that had him moaning expletives in your ear.

“oh-, ohhh, fuck baby. you’re so good at that holy shit,” he says trying to hold himself together. you give him a few more pumps before lifting your hips up to guide him inside you. you move his tip to your entrance, rubbing it teasingly before spencer places his hands on your sides to stabilize you, and slowly sink you down onto him.

the second his tip pushes past your folds, you both moan out in harmony. placing your hands on his shoulders you leverage yourself to sink down further inch by inch, until your core is flush with the base of his thighs.

spencer is a man of many words, maybe too many. but right now the only word he can remember is your name as he watched you take his length whole inch by inch slowly losing any restraint he had left. the pressure his cock had inside of you was heavenly. you’d never felt so full, and you could tell he was trying so hard to stay still as you adjusted above him.

when you bottom out spencer throws his head back against the seat, “oh that’s it, good girl,” you clenched around him. “you okay?”

you nod in response, ignoring the way the term of endearment sent flutters to your heart, and attempt an experimental rock of your hips, causing spencer’s head to whip up and meet your lust blown eyes with his own. he adjusts his hands on the sides of your thighs and starts helping you move up and down on his length, setting a brutally slow pace.

you rest your head and moan into the crook of his neck as he continues his movements, “spencer, please, more, i can take it.”

he still can’t believe what’s happening right now, all those days he spent thinking about you in the bullpen, at home, everywhere really, and here you were begging on top of him to fuck you good.

“you still think i don’t notice you?” he says into your ear, “i have dreamt about what you’d look like bouncing on my cock, and you are blowing any idea i had out of the water.”

you whimper as he continues, “and when i’m not thinking about ruining you, i am in awe at how you walk through life. you bring so much joy everywhere you go, it’s a blessing to be able to experience you.” he says through shaky breaths.

the praise goes straight to core, with some traveling to your heart again, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold on before you unravel physically and emotionally.

his hands are guiding you up and down at a harder pace now, “so,” thrust. “you still think,” thrust, “i don’t notice you?” he thrusts into you once more and holds you down, making sure you’re looking directly at him, “it was never an option to brush past you, you are everything to me. i didn’t know how to show that without overwhelming you. i’m sorry.”

tears well up in your eyes again, spencer notices this time and presses a small kiss on your forehead. all your senses feel like they’re in overdrive, unable to comprehend anything right now. your skin feels like it’s on fire as he rolls your hips faster to meet his ruts.

“spence, i- i’m so close.” you whine desperately. 

he slips his hand between you both to rub your clit, “i know baby, i’ve got you. let go for me.”

his words were enough to break the dam, your second climax of the night hurling towards you. the white hot feeling overtook your whole body, shaking and clenching above him. your grip on him was threateningly vicious, probably leaving deep crescent marks in the nape of his shoulders. you wish the euphoria would last forever if it meant having spencer like this. as you came down from your high, the two of you were still moving together, slowly rocking your hips to meet each other. once you were grounded again, you pushed through the sensitivity in your core to rise up on his length, just barely leaving the tip in before you slid back down fast and hard, now focusing on spencer reaching his peak.

“oh jesus, fuck.” spencer moaned out brokenly.

“come on spence you can do it,” you taunted as you clenched down, “come inside me, make a mess of me please.” a rush of confidence flowed through as you whispered into his ear, and spencer held your hips to help you bounce faster on him.

spencer let out a loud groan as you felt the hot spurts coat your insides, he was leaving matching crescent marks on the sides of your hips as the ones on his shoulders, making sure all of him was left in you. feeling him soften inside, you remained on his lap with him sheathed in you. you both are breathing heavily, leaning back to hopefully give you both some relief from the sex filled air. looking around the car you realize that all the windows are fogged up and let out a tiny giggle.

“what’s so funny?” he looks up at you slightly amused and very out of breath.

“no it’s just, the windows are such a dead giveaway for what we just did in here.” 

“eh, i don’t really care what people think.”

“gasp, dr. reid wants to let the world know he has car sex with random girls?”

he leans in to bite your neck playfully, “random? did nothing i said during all that register for you?”

you yelp and attempt to play dumb, “actually i don’t remember a word, you might have to jog my memory. maybe even recreate the circumstances to help with cementing it. i read about situational memorization where certain scenarios are easily remembered when there’s a big event to anchor it to.”

he swears he could’ve melted on the spot at you explaining a concept you’d read about to him, “careful sweetheart, calling it a big event might inflate my ego a little too high.”

“i mean, i can tell it worked,” you tease as you feel him harden inside of you again, “so tell me genius, how many times does a scenario have to happen for me to remember the information?”

“i guess we’ll have to find out, don’t we?”

[reidmarieprentiss]

Lost in Translation: Part One

Summary: Six years after Spencer Reid left you all alone in your dorm room, you’ve moved on and built a new life in Virginia, becoming close friends with Derek Morgan. When Spencer unexpectedly reappears as part of Derek’s team, old feelings resurface.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, friendly fluff

Warnings/Includes: alcohol consumption, past rejection, reflecting on past hurt, seeing the person who hurt you, Spencer still being a dumb man, talks of past hook ups

Word count: 9.2k

a/n: hiiii this is kind of a filler? it's just a lot of angst and build up for the reconciliation 👀

main masterlist prologue part two part three

Six years later, Reid sat on the back of an ambulance, the adrenaline of the situation slowly ebbing away as medics checked him over. His hair was mussed, and his face bore bruises from the day's takedown, but his eyes were clear, focused, if a little distant. Hotch approached, relief etched across his face, but concern still lingering in his eyes as he looked down at Reid.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly,” Hotch said, his tone light, though laced with genuine worry.

Reid glanced up, then looked off into the distance, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Hotch,” he said, pausing for just a moment before meeting his gaze, “I was a 12-year-old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school.” He let the statement hang in the air for effect before adding, “You kick like a 9-year-old girl.”

Hotch’s serious expression cracked into a grin, the tension of the day releasing in that shared moment of humor. He gave Reid an appreciative nod, proud that even now, even after everything, he could find a way to see the light in the darkness. They’d taken a risk to apprehend the unsub—a risk that had paid off. The case was closed, and most importantly, Spencer was okay.

Once the team returned to Quantico, Penelope Garcia came barreling toward them like a whirlwind, eyes wide with concern as she made a beeline for Spencer. 

“Oh my God, are you okay?” she asked, fussing over him, brushing nonexistent dust off his jacket. “I heard what happened, and I nearly had a heart attack, and you know how hard I work to keep this heart in tip-top shape.”

Derek let out a chuckle, looping an arm around Spencer's shoulders and giving him a good-natured shake. “Don't worry, Baby Girl,” he said. “Pretty Boy here is tougher than he looks.”

Elle stood nearby, a smirk tugging at her lips. “So what do you say, Reid? Can we take you out for a drink to celebrate? Show you a little team bonding now that we’re back in one piece?”

The offer made Spencer stiffen, a flicker of unease passing through his eyes. He hadn’t had his first drink yet—never quite found the right moment. His last encounter with alcohol flashed through his mind, from when he was still working on his PhD. He'd been at a party, talking to someone he wanted to take home... until they got too drunk and threw up on him, which put him off the idea of drinking ever since.

“Uhh,” Spencer started, rubbing the back of his neck as he awkwardly shrugged Derek’s arm off. “I’m not sure—”

“Nuh-uh,” Derek cut him off with a playful but firm shake of his head. “None of that, kid. You’re part of this team, and it’s time we show you what that means. Drinks on us. One drink won’t hurt, right?” 

Spencer looked between them—Derek’s grin, Elle’s teasing smile, and Penelope’s excited nodding—and felt the reluctant pull of acceptance. They weren’t going to take no for an answer, and for a moment, he let himself relax. Maybe a night out with the team wouldn't be so bad.

The bar was loud and buzzing with life. The team was clustered around a table, drinks in hand, and the mood was light, almost celebratory. Laughter echoed over clinking glasses as Derek teased Spencer about finally being out for drinks, Elle and JJ swapped jokes, and Hotch even cracked a rare smile as Penelope regaled everyone with her overly-dramatic reenactment of their last case. Spencer found himself laughing along, more relaxed than he thought he’d be, though he stayed firmly planted with his untouched glass of club soda.

Amid the fun, Derek's phone buzzed loudly, and he stood to answer it, holding up a hand to excuse himself. “Hold that thought, guys,” he said, flashing his signature grin as he walked a little away from the table, pressing the phone to his ear. The team continued their conversation, only pausing when Derek returned, looking apologetic.

“Sorry, guys,” he said, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “My lady is in distress; I gotta go rescue her from a bad date.”

That earned a round of good-natured chuckles from the team. Elle raised an eyebrow, asking, “Need us to come with, knight in shining armor?”

But Spencer, the one to always take things literally, frowned in confusion. “Your girlfriend is on a date with someone else?” he asked, tilting his head like he was trying to figure out a complex puzzle.

That only made everyone laugh harder, JJ practically doubling over and Hotch shaking his head with amusement. Derek just clapped Spencer on the back, his chuckle deep and hearty. 

Penelope, ever the playful dramatist, wiped away an imaginary tear. “As much as it pains me that my Chocolate Thunder has another woman in his life,” she sighed, draping an arm dramatically over her forehead, “that’s his best friend, not his girlfriend. He’s just playing superhero tonight.”

“Yeah, she’s just my little lady,” Derek explained, still smiling as he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “And trust me, she needs saving from some pretty questionable dates.”

Spencer nodded slowly, his eyes darting around as if processing this new piece of social information, a small “ohhh” escaping his lips as he finally understood. The rest of the team just laughed and clinked their glasses together, waving Derek off as he headed out to play the role of rescuer once again.

—

You smiled awkwardly, forcing a laugh as you tapped your foot under the table, hoping the nervous rhythm would hide your growing discomfort. Across from you, your date sat with an overly self-satisfied grin, clearly pleased with themselves for whatever joke they’d just told. 

“Funny, right?” they said, leaning back confidently, their voice loud enough to make a few heads turn.

“Mhm,” you nodded, plastering on your best smile, the kind you’d practiced for uncomfortable situations just like this. “So funny.” 

The date was dragging on, each minute feeling like an hour, and you kept glancing at the exit, hoping for some way to end it without seeming rude. You were running out of excuses when finally, you heard a familiar, steady voice that filled you with instant relief.

“Y/N! Baby!” Derek’s voice boomed from behind you, his face contorted into a fake, but convincingly angry, expression as he made his way over to your table. “It’s time to go,” he said through gritted teeth, playing the role perfectly.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, exaggerating your surprise as you quickly gathered your things, casting a regretful glance at your bewildered date. “Sorry, I have to—um, gotta go, you know how it is.��

“Now,” Derek growled, his eyes flashing dangerously as he reached for your arm with a protective grip. You couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips as he pulled you away, your heart racing with gratitude at how he always showed up just in time to save you from situations exactly like this.

As soon as the two of you stepped outside, you burst into laughter, the tension from the horrible date evaporating with each breathless chuckle. “What was that?” you cried out in amusement, doubling over as you tried to catch your breath.

Derek grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “I thought it would be funny to make it look like you were cheating on me,” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You laughed again, shaking your head as you nudged him playfully. “Wow, thanks, Derek. That’s just great! I’m sure they think I’m a horrible person now.”

“Better they think that than you being stuck in there any longer,” he teased, shrugging playfully. “Besides, who wouldn’t want to believe they were dating me?” He gave a mock-innocent smile, and you couldn't help but laugh harder, grateful that your night had turned from painfully awkward to genuinely fun—all thanks to your "knight" in his shining sense of humor.

—

After graduation, you packed up and moved to Virginia, seeking a fresh start and the next chapter of your life. It didn’t take long for you to meet Derek Morgan—charismatic, warm, and the kind of person who instantly made you feel like you’d known each other forever. Quickly, you were inseparable, your friendship deepening with every shared joke, every late-night conversation.

When you first met Derek, it wasn’t at a bar, but in the paint aisle of a hardware store. He was standing there, staring at the rows of paint swatches like they might leap off the shelf and attack him, clearly out of his element. You, meanwhile, were lost in your shopping list, trying to mentally organize what you needed. It wasn’t until you absentmindedly turned and bumped into him, sending a few swatches fluttering to the floor, that either of you spoke.

“Oh, sorry!” you said, laughing awkwardly as you bent to pick up the fallen cards. “I didn’t see you there.”

“No problem,” Derek replied with a chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Though, I think I need all the help I can get. You know anything about paint? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure these swatches are written in a different language.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at the paint chips in his hand. Normally, you’d have kept to yourself, but something about his friendly demeanor made it easy to offer help. “Well,” you said, pointing at the colors, “if you’re looking for something neutral but warm, I’d go with this one. It’s versatile, and won’t make the room feel too dark.”

Derek grinned, visibly relieved. “I like the way you think. You might’ve just saved me from turning my place into a disaster.”

That lighthearted, slightly awkward interaction became the start of an unexpected friendship. You didn’t realize it then, but Derek saw more than just someone who could offer advice on paint. He noticed the cautious way you carried yourself, the hesitation in your voice, and the guarded way you held back, even in a simple conversation. It was subtle, but Derek could sense it—that you were someone who had been hurt, someone who was used to keeping people at arm’s length.

It was in that moment, after you helped him, that Derek decided he wasn’t going to let you disappear into the background. He saw someone who needed a friend, even if you didn’t know it yet, and he was determined to be that person for you.

He pushed his way into your world, piece by piece, until you found yourself leaning on him, confiding in him, and letting him be the kind of friend you never thought you'd find again. Derek was determined to be there for you, and in a way you never saw coming, he had become the person who would stand by you, even when you were reluctant to let him in.

Over time, you confided in Derek about your college heartbreak, sharing all the hurt, the confusion, and the sense of betrayal that still lingered. You never mentioned names, though—the pain was still too raw, and you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it in more detail than necessary. Derek listened, always understanding, never pressing for more than you were ready to share. He knew when to joke to make you laugh and when to sit in silence to let you breathe.

At first, the attraction between you and Derek was undeniable. His charming smile, his confidence—it was easy to get lost in that. One night, curiosity and chemistry got the better of you both, and you found yourselves in a brief, passionate rendezvous. But once the moment passed, you both realized that while there was undeniable physical chemistry, the emotional spark that would take you beyond a fling wasn’t there.

So, you stayed friends—really good friends. And it was a decision that felt right. Derek became your closest companion, someone you trusted deeply, someone who knew all of you without needing to be anything more than your best friend. And from then on, your bond was stronger than any attraction that had once been between you.

Derek had always been eager to introduce you to his team, his “family,” as he called them. But every time he brought it up, you found yourself hesitant, a lingering anxiety wrapping tightly around your chest. The thought of meeting a group of strangers made your pulse quicken, and after what happened with Spencer, you found it hard to let people in—afraid that they’d get close only to walk out when you finally let your guard down.

But Derek was persistent. He’d reassure you that they’d love you, that they were good people, that they’d make you feel right at home. And after months of coaxing, he finally wore you down. So on the night he arranged for everyone to meet at a bar, you arrived early, nerves buzzing through you as you kept fidgeting with your glass of water, the ice clinking noisily. Derek sat beside you, his hand casually draped over the back of your chair, giving you little reassuring nudges and playful teasing to calm you down. 

It wasn’t long before they arrived—Elle, JJ, Hotch, and Penelope. They came in together, the energy between them electric and warm, like a group who had seen each other through everything and then some. You felt the weight of their eyes on you as Derek quickly waved them over, and before you knew it, introductions were happening all at once. 

Elle, with her steady, confident smile. JJ, kind and instantly friendly, making you feel a little more at ease. Hotch was reserved but polite, offering you a nod that felt more comforting than intimidating. And Penelope—bright, enthusiastic, and full of life—immediately pulled you into a hug that you didn’t quite expect but somehow needed.

“Welcome to the team... kinda!” Penelope laughed, pulling back to look you up and down, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

The team was warm, and their humor put you at ease more than you expected. “Derek told me you were gorgeous, but wow!” Penelope said, grinning as she gestured to your outfit. “He did not do you justice! I should've known he’d undersell a masterpiece.”

You blushed, ducking your head, and Derek rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh, come on, Garcia, now you’re just making her nervous,” he said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying the playful teasing.

“Someone has to make up for your terrible intro,” Elle joked, raising her drink in your direction. “He probably didn’t even tell you our names before dragging you here, did he?”

“Well, actually—” you started to defend him, but JJ leaned in with a grin.

“Oh, he probably did,” she said, flashing a knowing smile. “But did he tell you the good stuff? Because Hotch over here is not just any team leader—he’s secretly a rock star at karaoke.”

Hotch looked up from his drink, arching an eyebrow with mock disapproval. “Secretly, JJ?” he said dryly. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who signed us all up for ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ last time.”

The conversation flowed smoothly, light and airy, with everyone sharing bits of their day and funny anecdotes about past cases. You were finally feeling like you could relax, laughing along with the team and even chiming in here and there. Penelope asked about your work, Hotch teased Derek about his dedication to “fitness,” and JJ leaned in with questions about your interests, trying to make you feel comfortable.

Then Elle, who had been quietly observing, tilted her head with a curious smile. “So, Y/N,” she said, her eyes twinkling with humor, “we heard Derek had to save you from a bad date last week.”

A groan escaped you before you could help it, and Derek let out a bark of laughter beside you. “Oh, man, don’t make her relive that nightmare,” he said, shaking his head.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you said, smiling despite yourself as all eyes turned to you, eager for details. “I mean... yeah, I was on a pretty terrible date. The kind where you just... start praying for a natural disaster to get you out of there.”

Penelope gasped, holding a hand to her heart. “Spill! What happened?”

“Okay, okay,” you said, waving your hands, “So I’m sitting there, right? And this person—well, let’s just say they were a little too confident. They started cracking all these jokes that were... I mean, I think they thought they were funny, but they were more like... really weird stand-up comedy? And then, out of nowhere, they start quizzing me on, like, the most random trivia ever.”

JJ snorted into her drink. “Like what?”

“Like, ‘What’s the capital of Paraguay?’” you said, imitating your date’s deep, overly-serious tone. “And when I didn’t know, he looked at me like I just insulted his whole family.”

The whole table burst into laughter, and Derek shook his head, leaning back with a smirk. “See, I told you—you dodged a bullet there, lady.”

“And that’s where Derek came in,” you continued, grinning. “He stormed in, looking like an angry boyfriend ready to throw down, and said ‘Baby, we gotta go—now.’ Scared the poor chap half to death.”

“That’s my Derek,” Elle said, raising her glass in a toast.

You shrugged with a playful smile. “Gotta admit, it was a pretty solid rescue.”

Penelope’s eyes shone as she giggled, “I wish I knew I could call on Derek every time I get stuck on a boring date. You’re lucky you used it!”

“Yeah,” you said, your smile turning genuine as you looked over at Derek, who just winked at you. “I am lucky.”

You felt the anxiety still fluttering inside but found yourself starting to relax in the presence of their welcoming smiles. Maybe Derek was right—maybe this could be the start of something good.

But that thought was ruined the moment Spencer walked into the bar, a wave of panic hit you like a tidal wave, your pulse spiking as you leaned into Derek, whispering frantically, “That’s the guy!”

“What guy?” Derek asked, his brow furrowing in concern as he leaned closer.

“The guy from college! The one who led me on? Smashed and dashed? Broke my heart?”

Derek’s eyes went wide as the realization hit him, and he started to push up his sleeves, his expression shifting from confusion to determination. “Oh shit. Which one? I need to go have a little chat with this asshole.”

“That one!” you pointed discreetly, your voice tight with urgency. “String bean, 10 o’clock.”

Derek’s gaze followed your finger, his mouth opening in disbelief. “Spencer?”

“Wait,” you froze, eyes darting between Derek and Spencer. “How do you know Spencer?”

Derek blinked rapidly, running a hand over his face. “No way. No fucking way.”

“What, Derek, what?” you asked, anxiety gnawing at your insides.

“Derek, what’s going on?” Elle asked, noticing the tension suddenly spiking at the table.

But before either of you could explain, Spencer was already walking toward your group. And without hesitation, Derek shouted across the room, loud enough for the whole bar to hear, “Spencer Reid, you whore!”

The bar fell into stunned silence, every conversation dropping as heads turned toward Derek and then to Spencer, who froze mid-step. The confused, panicked look on Spencer’s face was mirrored by the team around you, all of them staring at Derek as if waiting for some kind of explanation. 

But none of that mattered, because the second Derek’s words hung in the air, you felt like you were going to combust. Your chest tightened, your ears burned, and you needed to escape—now. 

You couldn’t bear the sight of Spencer standing there, eyes wide and confused, especially not when he looked so good—his curls a bit longer, his frame more filled out but still carrying that awkwardly endearing energy you remembered all too well. It only made the hurt twist deeper in your chest, the flood of memories rushing back as if no time had passed at all.

Before anyone could say a word, you bolted out of your seat, practically running toward the exit, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you pushed through the door, away from the memories, the hurt, and the undeniable pull that Spencer still seemed to have on you.

After Derek’s loud declaration, the team was left bumbling in confusion, their chatter overlapping as they tried to make sense of what had just happened.

“Wait, what did you just say?” JJ asked, her eyes darting between Derek and Spencer, trying to catch up. 

“Did you just call Reid a whore?” Elle added, her voice rising with disbelief.

Hotch's expression hardened with concern and confusion, his eyes narrowing at Derek. “Care to explain what’s going on here?”

Meanwhile, Penelope’s gaze darted frantically between you, Derek, and the stunned Spencer, her mouth hanging open as if trying to piece together a puzzle with half the pieces missing. “Okay, someone fill me in, because this is getting juicy—”

Through it all, Derek’s eyes were locked on Spencer like a hawk eyeing its prey, shoulders squared, jaw tight, and very ready to pounce. Spencer was still standing frozen in place, his expression an awkward mix of shock, confusion, and now—seeing Derek’s glare—genuine fear. He didn’t know whether to step forward, run, or explain himself. It was as if the whole bar had gone silent, the weight of everyone's eyes pressing down on him like a spotlight he couldn’t escape.

“Pretty boy,” Derek said, his voice low and almost menacing as he kept his eyes locked on Spencer. The tension between them was palpable, the friendly atmosphere of moments ago evaporating into something heavy and dangerous. “Over here. Now.”

Spencer swallowed hard, glancing around the bar as if trying to find an escape route, but there was none—just the team’s bewildered faces and Derek’s unwavering stare. Slowly, hesitantly, he started walking toward the table, his eyes darting nervously between the team and Derek, clearly aware that whatever was going on was about to explode. 

The whole team was silent, eyes wide as they watched the confrontation unfold, utterly confused but drawn in, unable to look away.

“What’s going on, Derek?” Spencer’s voice came out weak, barely holding it together as he stood awkwardly in front of the table, hands fidgeting at his sides. He glanced nervously at Derek’s clenched jaw, clearly realizing this wasn’t just some joke he wasn’t in on.

Derek huffed, his eyes narrowing further as he stood up to step closer to Spencer, his presence towering over him. “Y/N Y/L,” he said, the name coming out like a loaded accusation. “Ring a bell?”

The color drained from Spencer’s face, his expression shifting from confusion to sheer panic. Of course, he knew that name. He knew it well—he’d never forgotten. You never gave him your full name, but that hadn’t stopped him from wanting to know everything about you after that night. And so, in a moment of curiosity, guilt, and longing, he’d used his professor access to look you up in the university directory, hoping to learn more, hoping to... maybe reach out. But he'd never followed through, instead burying that memory deep, where he thought it would stay forever.

Now, that past had clawed its way to the surface. Spencer gulped, eyes wide, his voice coming out as a barely audible mumble. “Um... why?”

The whole team’s heads bobbed back and forth between the two men like they were watching a tennis match, confusion written all over their faces. JJ’s brow furrowed in disbelief, Elle leaned forward as if ready to pounce on whatever truth was about to spill out, and Penelope’s eyes sparkled with intrigue, biting back a question to let the moment unfold.

“Because she was just sitting here,” Derek said, his voice darkening with barely contained anger, “and when you walked in, she ran out.”

The weight of his words dropped like a bomb, and the team’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. It took a moment for the pieces to fall into place, but when they did, the tension in the air became almost suffocating.

“Wait...” Elle gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as the realization hit her. “Is that what Y/N was whispering about?”

JJ's eyes darted to Spencer, shock and disappointment painted across her face. “Oh my god, Spencer!” she exclaimed, her voice rising above the din of the bar. “What did you do?”

Spencer's head hung low, his face pale as all eyes landed on him, his teammates' judgment clear in their expressions. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out—he was caught between the truth, the shame, and the past he’d tried so hard to forget.

The tall man let out a long breath and sat down heavily at the table, facing the expectant and confused gazes of his team. He hesitated, struggling to find the right words, the truth weighed down by layers of regret and fear. But there was no hiding from this now, and he knew he had to explain.

“I... I didn’t really talk about this before, but during my PhD days, I had a bit of a... busy intimate life,” he started, his voice low and wavering. He avoided eye contact, staring at the table like he could find his words hidden in the wood grain. “I was young, and it was my first time experiencing freedom like that. There were a lot of... flings, one-time things. A lot of people came and went.”

The team remained silent, eyes fixed on him, soaking in every word. Hotch sat back with his arms crossed, his face unreadable, while JJ and Penelope exchanged a shocked glance. Elle leaned in, not wanting to miss a single detail.

“And then I met Y/N,” Spencer continued, a small, wistful smile ghosting over his lips at the memory. “We started out just... bumping into each other, especially in the library. Thursdays became our thing, and before I knew it, we were friends—real friends. And I... I fell for her, hard.”

Derek’s jaw tightened as Spencer spoke, clearly trying to hold his tongue. But he stayed silent, trying to remain calm and listen, though his knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the table.

“One night, before the summer break, we hung out and... well, things got intimate,” Spencer confessed, his voice trailing off as if he could still remember every detail of that night. “But then, afterward, I... panicked. I’d been left before by people who only wanted one thing, and I was so sure Y/N would do the same. So I left before she could leave me. I thought I was protecting myself.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the team processing everything they’d just heard. Penelope’s mouth hung open in disbelief, and JJ’s face was a mix of understanding and disappointment. Elle just stared, eyes wide as she tried to piece together this new side of Spencer she had never seen before.

Derek leaned back, trying to take deep breaths to stay objective, but it was clear he was struggling to reconcile this side of Spencer with the man he knew—and with your story, the pain you'd carried for so long.

Finally, the silence broke when Elle, still processing everything, blurted out, “I thought you were a virgin.”

The unexpected comment drew a stifled chuckle from Hotch, who quickly tried to cover it with a cough, shaking his head as he glanced away to regain his composure. Spencer shot a look of offense around the table, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

“That’s not the point,” Derek said sharply, steering the conversation back to its heart. His tone softened but stayed firm. “You broke her heart, kid.”

Spencer’s expression crumbled with shame, his eyes dropping to his hands fidgeting in his lap. “I... I didn’t know that,” he said quietly, sounding more vulnerable than any of them had ever heard him. “She was... she was here? Tonight?”

Penelope nodded solemnly, her usually bright demeanor clouded with concern. “Yeah, she was sitting right with us,” she said gently. “She ran out. Spencer, she ran right past you.” 

Spencer’s face fell, the weight of what he’d done settling heavily on his shoulders as he replayed the moment in his mind—the stranger rushing past, too fast for him to recognize, too wrapped in his own world to realize the depth of pain he had caused.

—

Flashback

After you fell asleep with your head resting on Spencer’s chest, he stayed awake, propped up on one arm, his other hand idly tracing shapes on your back. The rise and fall of your gentle breaths sent soft puffs of warmth against his skin, and the sound of your slow, even breathing filled the quiet room. Spencer watched you with a tender smile on his face, his heart swelling with every peaceful sigh you let out.

For that moment, everything was perfect—the warmth of your body against his, the soft glow of the moonlight through the window, and the quiet intimacy of sharing a bed after everything that had happened between you. He couldn't help but let his thoughts wander, to imagine waking up like this every morning, to imagine the rest of his life with you beside him, sharing sleepy smiles and whispered secrets in the quiet of dawn.

And that's when the panic hit.

The thought of getting so close to you, of letting his heart fall so fully and completely for you, terrified him. He had spent so long protecting himself, closing off his emotions to keep from being hurt, that the idea of letting you in was too overwhelming. He was sure that, like everyone else, you’d leave, and he didn't think he could handle the pain if it came from you. He felt the fear grip him tight, his pulse quickening as he realized what it meant—that he had to go, now, before he fell any deeper.

As much as it broke his heart, Spencer carefully slipped out from under you, moving inch by inch to keep from waking you. But when he finally pulled away, your face scrunched up in your sleep, and your arm reached out instinctively, searching for the place he had just been. The sight nearly broke him, and for a moment, he almost crawled back into bed, almost let himself stay.

But the fear was stronger. He left, quietly slipping out into the dark, knowing he would never see you again, knowing that the one chance at something real was lost the second he closed that door behind him.

—

As soon as you got home, you collapsed onto your bed, the soft sheets barely registering beneath you as you clung to a pillow, burying your face in it. The tears came fast, heavy sobs shaking your body as the weight of everything you’d been holding in finally poured out. Memories of Spencer rushed back in a flood—the way he’d held you, the tender words he’d whispered in the quiet of the night, and the intimacy you had shared.

You knew, even before it happened, that sleeping with him was a mistake. You’d told yourself as much a thousand times. But the moment he left you, without so much as a word afterward, it felt like that final blow to your heart—confirming everything you feared. The pain of being abandoned, of realizing that maybe you had meant nothing to him after all, tore at you with a fierceness that left you breathless. You hugged the pillow tighter, the softness no comfort to the ache inside.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, every emotion too overwhelming to bear. The embarrassment of bolting from the bar in front of Spencer’s team, the fear of realizing he was now part of your immediate circle, and the deep grief over what could have been. It was too much. The tears had left your eyes swollen and your throat raw, your body exhausted from the turmoil swirling inside you.

When you woke the next morning, groggy and disoriented, the sound of your phone buzzing pulled you from the comfort of sleep. Fumbling for it, you squinted at the screen before bringing it to your ear, your voice thick with sleep. “Hello?” you managed, slurred through the haze of morning grogginess.

“Hey, baby,” Derek’s familiar, warm voice sighed through the line. “I’m at your door with tea. Let me in?”

A disgruntled huff escaped you, not exactly ready to face the day, but you still dragged yourself out of bed. You padded over to the door and opened it, finding Derek standing there with two cups of tea and a look of understanding. Without saying a word, you took the cup he offered, wrapping your hands around the warmth and letting it soothe the ache in your chest as you sipped.

Wordlessly, the two of you made your way to your tiny balcony, the fresh morning air brushing softly against your skin. You both settled into the cozy, cushioned nook—Derek’s arm draped over your shoulder as you leaned into his warmth. The silence stretched between you, comfortable and unpressured. Derek didn’t push you to speak, letting you take your time, knowing you needed the quiet after everything.

For a long while, the soft hum of the city below and the gentle sway of plants on your balcony were the only sounds filling the space. It wasn’t until you’d both nearly finished your tea that Derek finally spoke.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with care, his gaze watching you carefully, ready to listen.

You sighed heavily, your fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of your mug. “I never thought I’d see him again,” you admitted, shaking your head as you tried to process the shock of it all. “What are the odds?”

Derek, ever the one to lighten the mood, snorted softly. “I bet Spencer would know the answer to that,” he quipped, a small grin tugging at his lips.

You turned to glare at him, shooting him a look that clearly said not funny. Derek raised his hands in surrender, his grin faltering. “Sorry. Too soon?”

You nodded, sighing as you leaned back into the cushions. “It’s always too soon with... him,” you said, your voice weighed down by all the unspoken emotions you hadn’t yet unpacked.

Derek shifted beside you, the teasing gone from his expression now as he grew serious again. “He told us what happened, you know?” he said quietly, as if trying not to make it worse but knowing you had to hear it.

Your chest tightened at the thought, embarrassment rising again. “Great,” you muttered, your voice tinged with bitterness. “That’s even more humiliating. The entire team knows now?”

“Yeah,” Derek admitted softly, nodding as he looked at you with sympathy. “But they also know it was him who messed up, not you.”

You stared down into your cup, feeling the sting of tears welling up again, threatening to spill over. The warmth of Derek beside you was a comfort, but it wasn’t enough to lift the heavy burden pressing on your chest. His words, meant to soothe, only left you feeling more confused, more vulnerable.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly, barely above a whisper, your voice shaky with emotion. You didn’t dare look up, afraid that making eye contact would break the fragile barrier keeping the tears at bay.

Derek took a deep breath, shifting slightly as if choosing his words carefully. “At the bar, after you ran out... Spencer sat down with the team, and we... we didn’t know what was going on at first. So we asked.”

You finally looked up at him, your brows furrowing slightly, a mix of anticipation and dread building in your stomach.

“He told us about his time during his PhD,” Derek continued gently, his voice calm, as if he was trying to soften the blow. “Said he... he slept around a lot back then, had a lot of one-night things, you know? And then he met you. Told us how you two became friends, how it wasn’t like the other times.”

Your heart clenched at his words. Hearing it from Derek made it real in a way that felt almost unbearable. You squeezed your mug tighter, the warmth doing nothing to soothe the ache in your chest.

“He said after you two slept together,” Derek went on, “he panicked. Thought you’d leave him, like everyone else had. So he left first.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your tears from spilling, but it was no use. You could feel the sharp sting in your throat, the familiar ache of heartache you thought you’d buried long ago. “He left because he thought I’d leave?” you asked, your voice thick with disbelief and hurt.

Derek nodded, his eyes full of sympathy. “Yeah... He thought he was protecting himself. But, obviously, he regrets it now.”

You didn’t know how to respond. The conflicting emotions—anger, sadness, confusion—swirled inside you, leaving you breathless. Spencer had left because he was afraid of losing you, and in doing so, he broke you. And now, all these years later, you were supposed to find comfort in knowing he regretted it?

“So that’s why he never... reached out?” you whispered, more to yourself than to Derek.

“Yeah,” Derek said softly. “He was scared. Scared that you’d see him like all the others did—someone to use and then leave.”

“Basically, he’s a coward and a moron?” you asked, your voice flat but sharp with anger, needing to hear it said out loud to fully grasp the ridiculousness of it all.

Derek chuckled softly, a wry smile pulling at his lips. “Yup. That sums it up,” he said, rubbing your arm in slow, soothing circles. His voice remained calm, but he could sense the storm brewing inside you. “Do you think you’ll want to see him again?”

“Fuck no,” you snapped without hesitation, the words coming out harsher than you expected, but you didn’t care. “He ruined any chance he had with me. He broke my heart, and all because he was scared?” The bitterness in your voice rose as the anger bubbled to the surface, mixing with the lingering pain. “I hate him.”

Derek’s smile faded into something softer, more sympathetic as he listened to you vent. He could feel the intensity of your emotions, the raw hurt that still lingered beneath the surface. But he didn’t push you further, just stayed close, offering his quiet support.

“I get it,” he said softly. “You’re allowed to be mad, to feel all of it.”

You nodded, though the tears were already blurring your vision again. The anger felt good, cathartic in a way, but it didn’t take away the hurt. Spencer had shattered something inside you, and no explanation, no regret from him could change that.

Derek stayed with you for the rest of the day, determined to lift your spirits and bring some lightness back into the heavy atmosphere that had settled over you. After the emotional morning, he suggested a change of pace—a "no more thinking about him" kind of day.

The two of you moved back inside, and after raiding your fridge, you ended up sprawled out on the couch with a pile of snacks between you. Derek flipped through channels until he landed on an old action movie, something so absurd and over-the-top it was impossible not to laugh at the cheesy explosions and dramatic one-liners.

As the movie played in the background, you both sat there, munching on chips and teasing each other. “If I ever get into a high-speed chase, I’ll make sure to drive into an alley with just enough space for me to barely escape, but the bad guys can’t,” Derek quipped, waving a chip in the air like it was his master plan.

“Obviously,” you laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “Because clearly, that’s what makes you invincible.”

“Oh, I’m invincible, baby,” Derek grinned, flexing his arm dramatically. “I don’t need an alley to escape the bad guys.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing at his theatrics. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see how ‘invincible’ you are next time you try to carry all the grocery bags at once and drop the eggs.”

Derek clutched his chest in mock horror. “Low blow, Y/N. You know I was saving us from multiple trips.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased, tossing a chip at him. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mr. Invincible.”

He caught the chip mid-air and popped it into his mouth, smirking as he chewed. “Not everyone can be as perfect as you, baby.”

The day passed in a blur of easy conversation, laughter, and moments of comfortable silence. Derek didn’t push you to talk about anything heavy, and the weight that had sat on your chest all morning began to lift, replaced with the warmth of knowing you had a friend who could make you forget the world for a little while.

By the end of the day, you were curled up under a blanket, feeling lighter than you had in days.

—

“Derek!” Spencer called out, jogging to catch up just as Derek was waiting for the elevator. His breath was a little ragged, his urgency clear. He needed to talk, needed to know.

Derek turned, his eyes scanning Spencer’s face, reading the familiar mix of emotions. He had softened toward Spencer since the initial blow-up, knowing that his friend was hurting too. Spencer had made a mess of things, but he was still one of Derek’s closest friends, and Derek couldn’t ignore his struggle.

“Sup, Reid?” Derek greeted casually, though there was a layer of understanding beneath the light tone.

“Hi, um,” Spencer panted, catching his breath from the jog. “Did you see Y/N again this weekend?”

Derek nodded, his expression softening even further. “Yeah, I did.”

Spencer’s eyes flickered with hope and uncertainty, hesitating before speaking again. He clearly wanted to ask more, but the words seemed caught in his throat. Derek saw the struggle and decided to give him an out.

"Come on, man. Let’s grab a drink," Derek offered, nodding toward the door as the elevator opened. He knew this conversation was going to be heavier than a quick exchange by the elevators.

A little while later, the two of them were sitting side by side at the bar. Their beers sat untouched, the weight of their conversation lingering between them. Spencer had been unusually quiet all night, his usual rambling replaced by a tension that had been hanging over him since he saw you again.

“So,” Spencer began cautiously, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass as if the movement could steady his thoughts. “Uh... how’s Y/N been?”

Derek exhaled, setting his beer down with a quiet thud. He hated being caught in the middle of this, but Spencer’s eyes were so full of uncertainty, so full of regret, that Derek couldn’t ignore the question. He had to be honest. “She’s... doing alright,” Derek said carefully, trying not to reveal too much. “Keeping busy. Working on some new projects.”

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, and he nodded slowly. “That’s good,” he muttered, though the slight tremble in his voice betrayed just how much hearing about you affected him. 

“What, uh, what does she do for work?” Spencer asked, his fingers nervously twisting the beer bottle in his hand, his gaze avoiding Derek's for a moment.

Derek sighed, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading but humoring Spencer for now. “She’s an interior designer.”

“Oh, cool,” Spencer muttered, nodding absently, still twirling his beer. There was a beat of silence before he asked, “How did you two meet?”

Derek smiled at the memory, a small chuckle escaping him. “We ran into each other, literally, at a hardware store. I was standing there, staring at paint, and she bumped into me. She ended up helping me pick out a paint color for my walls, and, well, the rest is history.”

“That’s nice,” Spencer said, his voice quieter now, as if he was picturing the scene in his mind. “She, uh, she likes it? The job, I mean?”

“She loves it,” Derek replied with a soft smile, thinking about how passionate you were whenever you talked about your latest project. It was clear how much joy your work brought you, and Derek admired that.

The conversation hovered for a moment, Spencer swirling the beer in his hand, staring into the golden liquid as if it might hold the answers he was looking for. He didn’t dare ask the question that was lingering on the tip of his tongue—Does she ever talk about me?—but Derek could feel it hanging in the air between them, thick with unspoken regret.

Derek leaned back, exhaling softly. He knew Spencer was desperate for some sign, some hope, but he also knew you hadn’t mentioned Spencer much since the first time you told Derek about him, and this most recent run-in. 

But Derek couldn’t lie, and he wasn’t about to give Spencer any false hope. “She doesn’t want to see you, Spencer,” Derek said gently, watching the way Spencer’s expression crumbled, the tiny shred of hope slipping through his fingers. “She’s... still hurt.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the table. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper, full of regret and guilt. “I know.”

—

The Humane Society was always a favorite outing for you two, mostly because Derek loved the idea of being surrounded by dogs, and you were more than happy to tag along to play with the animals.

You knelt down by one of the cages, your fingers scratching behind the ears of a little brown puppy with floppy ears and bright eyes. “You are too cute,” you cooed, watching as the puppy wagged its tail excitedly. “How is it that I've managed to leave here every time without adopting?”

Derek was busy with a scrappy terrier, laughing as the dog tugged at his shoelaces. “Because I’m here to remind you that you have plants you’ve barely managed to keep alive.”

“Low blow,” you snickered, standing up to join him. “But I could definitely handle one of these guys. Look at their little faces!”

Derek raised an eyebrow, his smile teasing. “Yeah, you say that now, but when you’re knee-deep in chewed shoes and puppy accidents, you’ll be texting me to dog-sit.”

You grinned, nudging his arm as the two of you continued walking down the row of cages. “I think we both know you’d love it.”

“Okay, maybe,” Derek admitted, glancing down at one of the puppies that had followed you to the edge of its cage. “But only because I’d get to play with them all day.”

“Exactly.” You shot him a grin. The day was filled with laughter and excitement, the two of you in your element—just two friends enjoying the company of animals and each other.

—

Derek was in the bullpen when he felt Spencer approach, that familiar presence hovering like a shadow. He looked up from his paperwork, knowing exactly what was coming.

“Hey,” Spencer said, his voice quieter than usual. “Can I ask... has Y/N said anything?”

Derek leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Reid, man, I’ve told you—she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I just... I don’t understand how I could’ve hurt her this much. I didn’t think...” He trailed off, unsure of how to explain his regret without making excuses.

Derek rubbed a hand over his face, torn between wanting to protect you and wanting Spencer to see the bigger picture. “Look, I get that you didn’t mean to hurt her. But man, you’ve got to understand—she trusted you. And when you left, it wasn’t just about what happened back then. It’s about the fact that you walked away without a word.”

Spencer blinked, absorbing the weight of Derek’s words. “I didn’t know it would be this bad,” he whispered.

Derek shook his head slightly, his voice firm but not unkind. “That’s the problem, Spencer. You never thought about what it’d do to her. She wasn’t just mad. She was heartbroken.”

—

The sun was warm, and the café’s outdoor seating was just breezy enough to make the day feel perfect. You and Derek sat across from each other, laughing over your latest failed online shopping attempts.

“I swear, I ordered a rug, and it looked like it belonged in a dollhouse when it arrived,” you groaned, rolling your eyes dramatically. Derek threw his head back with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Y/N, at this point, you should just let me handle your shopping. Your luck is terrible,” he teased, sipping his iced coffee.

“Don’t even try, Morgan. I can’t be trusted to order anything online, but I’m a wizard in an actual store.” You wagged a finger at him before diving into your sandwich. “Besides, you love dragging me around for advice.”

“Yeah, okay,” Derek grinned, “but we’re heading to the home goods store after this. No more rugs, though. Promise me.”

You smirked. “No promises. Let’s see where the wind takes us.”

The rest of the day was filled with easy banter as you roamed the aisles of a nearby store, pointing out throw pillows and quirky decor that caught your eye. Derek kept up the playful commentary, pretending to be appalled at your taste, but you could tell he was having just as much fun as you were.

At one point, he held up a neon-green lamp, his face mock-serious. “This. This is the statement piece your living room has been missing.”

“Oh my god, put that down before it blinds me,” you laughed, shoving him playfully as you moved on to the next aisle.

—

Penelope, Hotch, and JJ were deep in conversation when Derek noticed Spencer hovering nearby, clearly wanting to ask something but too nervous to interrupt. Derek already knew what was coming. It had become a pattern—every few days, Spencer would subtly try to ask about you without making it obvious.

As soon as the group dispersed, Spencer sidled up to Derek, eyes darting nervously around the bullpen. “Did Y/N say anything about... that thing you guys did last weekend?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “We grabbed lunch and went shopping. You want details about the food she ordered, or are you gonna admit what you’re really asking?”

Spencer’s face flushed, his hands twitching at his sides. “I... I just want to know if she’s okay.”

Derek sighed, his expression softening. “She’s okay, Spencer. It was a long time ago. But listen... you need to understand that just because she’s functioning now doesn’t mean she’s not still hurting.” He lowered his voice, giving Spencer a hard look. “If you really want to fix this, you’ve got to stop waiting for her to just be fine and start thinking about what you need to do to make things right.”

Spencer bit his lip, nodding. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but Derek shook his head. “She’s not ready, man. Don’t push.”

—

As you sat in the car, driving back from the movies with Derek, you stared out the window, feeling peaceful. That is, until he finally broke the silence.

“So,” he said, his tone more serious than usual. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

You blinked, turning to him with a slight frown. “Talk about what?”

Derek glanced over at you, his brow furrowed slightly. “Spencer.”

The mention of his name hit you hard, but you quickly forced a smile, brushing it off. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Come on, Y/N. You’ve been great at pretending you’re fine, but I know you better than that. You’re good, but you’re not that good. I am a profiler, sweetheart.”

You sighed, leaning back in your seat. “I’m fine, Derek. I’ve moved on. I’m happy now.”

Derek didn’t respond right away. He pulled into a parking lot and turned off the engine, giving you a pointed look. “I know you’re happy, and I’m glad. But pretending those feelings don’t exist doesn’t make them go away.”

You bit your lip, staring down at your hands. “What do you want me to say? That it still hurts? That I’m angry? Because I am. I’m all of those things. But it doesn’t change anything. Spencer’s in the past, and I’m not letting him mess up what I’ve got now.”

Derek’s expression softened, his voice gentle as he leaned back. “I’m not saying you have to do anything. I just don’t want you to keep bottling it up.”

You exhaled slowly, the tension slipping out of your body as you met Derek’s gaze. “I’m fine. Really. But... thanks for asking.”

Derek smiled, nodding as he started the car again. “Alright. Just know I’m here, okay?”

You smiled back, feeling grateful for the reminder. “I know.”

“Would you be willing to talk to him? He’s pretty beaten up about the whole thing,” Derek asked cautiously, his eyes flicking over to you with that careful, almost too-soft look. It was the look he reserved for moments when he didn’t want to push you but knew he had to ask anyway.

Your stomach tightened at the mention of Spencer, the name still carrying more weight than you wanted to admit. You kept your gaze out the window, watching the buildings blur by, pretending the question didn’t send a ripple of unease through your chest.

“Derek…” you started, your voice trailing off, unsure of how to respond. The thought of seeing Spencer again, of opening that old wound, felt like more than you could handle.

“I know,” Derek cut in gently, sensing your hesitation. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was worth it. But I’ve talked to him, Y/N. He’s... not the same guy he was. He messed up, and he knows that.”

You shook your head slightly, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of your seatbelt. “I don’t know if I can, Derek. He left. Without a word. I don’t know what there is to talk about anymore.”

“I get that,” Derek said softly, his voice low and careful. “But maybe there’s some closure in it for you. And for him. You don’t have to forgive him, but maybe hearing him out would help. For both of you.”

You sighed, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Closure. Did you need it? Or was keeping Spencer in the past the only way to really move on?

“I don’t know,” you murmured finally, your voice thick with uncertainty.

Derek didn’t push any further, his silence a testament to how well he understood you. “It’s your call, babe,” he said after a long pause. “But just think about it. No pressure.”

You nodded slowly, your heart conflicted as you continued staring out the window, the unease still swirling inside you.

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

tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance @pleasantwitchgarden @alexxavicry @written-in-the-stars06

[reidswhre]

could you write something about this? rossi having a teenage daughter who is just as smart as spencer, and them meeting each other and discovering the similarity, is something different but i think it could be fun to read! 🫶🏻

spencer reid x fem!rossi!reader

warnings: nothing, pure fluff

a/n: this is so cute omg thx for sending it! btw i didn’t realize it said “teenage” until now i’m so sorry 😭☹️ i hope that doesn’t bother you too much, she’s spencer’s age!

Rossi had invited everyone to dinner at his house. It was something “simple.” In quotes because, come on, for Rossi nothing was simple.

“Come in, if you break something, I’ll tell Hotch to cut half of your salary.” He gave a fake smile as he let them in.

“Aww, you’re so kind.” Emily returned the fake smile, which made everyone laugh.

“Take a seat, how about some wine?” Rossi offered, and everyone graciously accepted.

Except Spencer. “No, thanks— I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Of course you don’t, kid.” Rossi rolled his eyes. “What would you like? Orange juice? Fruit puree?” Rossi teased him.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Spencer smiled a little.

“Dad, do you know where the library is—” You came down the stairs quickly before noticing the team in the living room. “Oh— Hello.” You lowered your voice, a bit shy.

“Hey you, I forgot to mention it.”

“You definitely did.” You said, shrinking into your spot.

“Look, this is my work team.” He pointed to each person as they greeted you. “And this is my daughter.” He introduced you by name to the team.

“Nice to meet you.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m going to… head upstairs. Excuse me.”

“Are you kidding? Stay.” Your dad encouraged you.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t say that, sweetie. You’d never be a bother.” Garcia spoke up.

“And if it does bother them, they can leave, it’s my house.” Rossi joked, and everyone laughed a bit.

“It’s fine, really,” Hotch said.

“Okay, thank you.” You finished coming down the stairs, a bit nervous.

Now, you weren’t thaaaat shy (just a little), but come on, it was your dad’s entire work team. How could you not be?

“I didn’t know you lived with your daughter.” Morgan smiled, taking a sip of his wine.

“I don’t, she’s visiting.” Rossi gave you a look to encourage some small talk.

“I live in England, I’m in university.”

“Oh, where?” Spencer asked, intrigued.

“Oxford.” You smiled shyly.

Morgan whistled. “That’s fancy.”

“It’s not as grand as it sounds.” You shook your head.

“Oxford, along with Cambridge, is the elite of education in England. One of the two always appears in the top rankings of the country, as well as the list of the ten best universities in the world.” Spencer looked at you. “I think it is as grand as it sounds.”

You narrowed your eyes a bit at his response.

Spencer, the genius of the BAU, you knew a little about him.

Your dad used to talk about him and said you two would probably get along, but he said that about everyone, so you didn’t pay it much attention.

“Cambridge is better than Oxford.”

“Depends on the field.” He replied.

“No, it doesn’t. In general statistics, it’s better.”

“You can’t rely on general statistics.”

“Said the profiler.”

Everyone chuckled at your little exchange, which made you smile a bit.

From then on, everyone started their own conversations, and you noticed Spencer sitting there, staring at his glass of water.

“Anyway, I chose Oxford for a reason, so you’re not completely wrong.” You sat next to him.

“You got into Cambridge?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Mhm.” You nodded. “Want me to be honest?”

“Of course.” He looked at you intently.

“Maybe the fact that Oxford looks like Hogwarts influenced my decision a bit.”

Spencer laughed. “That’s fair.”

“And you? Where did you go? I’ve heard you have several PhDs.”

“I went to the MIT.” He smiled nervously.

“That sounds amazing.”

“Not as amazing as yours.” He looked at you.

“Sure, yours wasn’t run by Dumbledore.” You joked.

“You really like it, huh?”

“Are you kidding? I love it! It’s my favorite series.” You got excited talking about Harry Potter.

“I’m more of a Star Wars fan.” You grimaced at that. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I’ve never seen them,” you admitted.

Spencer’s eyes widened. “No way!”

“Seriously! They just don’t appeal to me, sorry.” You apologized through laughter.

“Well, what else do you like then?”

“Hmm.” You looked at the ceiling, thinking. “I like magic.”

“Really? I love magic.” Spencer smiled.

“Yeah? What can you do?” You playfully challenged him with a smile.

“Uhhh.” He looked around, searching for something to show you.

“Nothing?” You smiled.

“I guess not…” He shrugged. “Unless…” He made a small gesture for you to check behind your ear.

You gave him a confused look and reached behind your ear like he did. You pulled out a little piece of paper.

You gasped in surprise. “How did you do that?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Come on! That’s amazing!”

“Nope, sorry.”

“Aww.” You pouted.

“Thank you all so much.” You heard someone behind you saying goodbye.

“Oh—I think I have to go.” Spencer stood up from his seat.

“Yes, of course—” You stood up as well to say goodbye to the others.

A little later, after everyone had left, you were helping your dad clean the kitchen while he was tidying up the living room.

“What’s this?” He asked, showing you the little piece of paper you had pulled from behind your ear earlier.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s just a magic trick. You can throw it away.” You laughed while washing the glasses.

“Are you sure?” He said, walking over to you. “It has a number.”

“What!?” You dropped the glasses in the sink and quickly dried your hands. “Let me see!” You rushed over to your dad and snatched the paper from him.

“That kid was trying to hit on you?” He rolled his eyes while looking at you.

“Oh my God, yes!” You smiled, excited.

Then you remembered your dad worked with him, and your smile dropped.

“I mean— maybe, probably not— it doesn’t matter.” You shrugged and casually slipped the paper into the back pocket of your pants.

“Sure, it doesn’t.” He narrowed his eyes and started heading up the stairs. “Remind him you live 7,588 kilometers away!” He shouted from afar.

You smiled a little and gave a small jump of excitement in the quiet of your living room.

[hxney-lemcn]

More Than Friends — Jade Leech x gn! reader

summery: you thought you and Jade were only friends, but there are some signs that are starting to point out otherwise...

tw: suggestive at the end (?) nothing happens tho, reader wears jewelry (cus people gift them it)

a/n: not my best work, not my worst. Idk how to feel about this one. Jade's kinda hard to write for.

wc: 2.9k

Master List

You wouldn’t call yourself oblivious. You picked up on social cues and people’s intentions…most of the time. But you did find yourself looking back at a moment and realizing that someone was trying to flirt with you a bit too late and more often than not. It keeps you up at night how oblivious you may come off as. Either that or rude, as your responses would be a straight up rejection. 

Though this time was different.

You had no idea how you got close to Jade Leech. One moment you barely saw him, the next he kept popping up! Being friends with Azul was probably the catalyst. You both were study partners, and over time you found yourself at the Mostro Lounge more likely than not after your study sessions. It had become a respite after a hard day, ordering a drink, maybe some food if you wanted to spoil yourself. It was after you became close to Azul when you noticed the Leech twins would appear seemingly out of thin air at school. 

“My, my~” Jade hummed, appearing from around the corner. “You’ve been popping up more and more. Are you stalking me?”

You blinked, your anxiousness clouded by suspicion, “Last time I checked I was heading to class like I do everyday. Are you projecting?” 

He merely sent you a close eyed smile, “I assure you I’m not. Since we seem to be heading the same way, shall I accompany you?” Before you could point out that he came the way you were headed, Jade was already walking, leaving you to catch up. 

It didn’t only happen at school, but also at the Mostro Lounge. Of course you expected to find him there, it was where he worked. What surprised you is when he placed an amazing smelling plate of food in front of you that you hadn’t ordered. 

“Oh, I-I didn’t order anything,” You spoke up awkwardly. 

“Of course,” Jade only smiled politely, like always. “It’s a special recipe of mine, and I thought you’d be willing to try it.” You weren’t a fool, you heard Floyd groan and moan about Jade putting mushrooms into his food. Not just any mushrooms, hand picked mushrooms from the wild. A terribly dangerous hobby, even if you were a mushroom expert, and you’re pretty sure Jade doesn’t have a phd in mycology. 

Carefully, you picked at the pasta dish, noticing spinach, parsley…and mushrooms. Your eyes shift back up to the eel who watches you like a predator watching its prey.

“Did you grow these mushrooms?” You asked, trying to act natural, like you were only making small talk. 

“Fufufu~ Would it make any difference?” He asked, amused. 

“No,” You replied back, pushing all the mushrooms to one side of the plate. “I’m not a big fan of eating mushrooms either way.”

“A shame,” Jade sighed. Although his smile didn’t waver, you noticed the hint of disappointment shone in his heterochromic eyes. 

Not wanting to fully disappoint the mer, you piped up, “Your mushrooms look just like the ones from the grocery store though. Did you manage to find wild Agaricus bisporus?” You seemed to grab his attention once again with that question. 

“Yes, in fact I found a small colony,” He replied, watching as you took your first bite. 

The flavors burst on your tongue, and you found yourself holding back from wolfing the whole dish down. Instead, you picked some mushrooms from the small pile you procured and held it towards Jade. “I don’t want anything to go to waste, do you want the mushrooms?” 

Such an innocent question, and one you didn’t think about twice had managed to shock Jade. A feat really. You were used to sharing food, if you didn’t like something, you’d find someone else who would. It was like a sin to throw away food. Though in the deep, it wasn’t common at all to share food. Food was rare, people died whether it be fighting or starving. Sharing food was a deeply intimate action, reserved for only those you care about the most. Jade wasn’t a fool though, he knew you land dwellers didn’t think that way, but he couldn’t help but feel…flattered. Oh, you were such an interesting specimen and you didn’t even realize. 

And so, like the gentleman he was, who was he to deny you? Leaning down, he captured the fork between his lips, letting the savory flavor of the mushrooms hit his tongue. And as he stared at you the entire time, he found himself surprised once more. He thought you would be easy to fluster (and in a sense you were), but instead of a shy look, you merely smiled. You twirled some more pasta and ate merrily, like nothing had happened. Every so often offering Jade some more mushrooms you managed to find. It was…oddly domestic. At least to Jade, you on the other hand, were completely oblivious to the possibility of the scenario being intimate. To you, it was just like sharing food with a friend (in a sense that was true). 

It was that day that Jade decided he’d try to see how far he could get away with being intimate with you. At first he just started with cooking for you, letting you feed him mushrooms he’d ‘accidently’ put in. It was just a bit of fun really, walking you to class, watching the horror on your friend's face when he’d come to greet you. You just thought you were friends, hanging out and looking at his terrariums, talking about different mushroom species and their different properties. Walking to class, something you did with your other friends, so you didn’t question why he’d go out of his way when his classes were on the other side of campus. 

No, it wasn’t until a certain incident that made you start questioning your relationship with Jade. Kalim had gifted you a bracelet (forcefully…he wouldn’t take no for an answer), so of course you were going to wear it. And as you accompanied Azul while he was doing some checks around the lounge, he couldn’t help but eye the shiny metal that adorned your wrist. You clearly couldn’t afford such jewelry, so he couldn’t help but ask.

“Where did you get that bracelet?”

Looking from your phone to your wrist, you fidgeted with the jewelry, gems enlaced the silver metal, “Kalim gave it to me.” You didn’t see how Jade side eyed you, or how Floyd’s grin sharpened. Instead, you watched as Azul studied the jewelry, bringing your wrist close to his face. 

“I believe those are real gems.”

You felt your stomach drop, the only reason why you ended up taking it was under the hope it wasn’t real. You weren’t sure what you were expecting though, this was Kalim we’re talking about.

That was the only incident you could recall that led to…this. It was a normal day, studying with Azul after classes, which led to you both going to the Mostro Lounge in the evening. Jade hadn’t been following you around like you got used to, but you weren’t put off, just assuming he was busy with something else. You sat at the bar like you usually did, watching Jade make some customer’s drinks before bringing you your usual. After a while he brought you some food you didn’t order, and felt yourself relax. You stayed till close, then Jade would walk you to the mirror and wish you goodnight. But before any of that, when people were leaving the lounge, Jade placed a small box in front of you. One of those fancy jewelry ones. Your gaze rose to the eel, unsure what this meant. 

“Oooo, looks like Jade’s got a crush~” Floyd sang with a giggle, running away as Jade sent him a deadly glare (y’know, where he’s still smiling…terrifying). You felt your heart jump, watching Jade turn back to you with a slightly strained grin (you wouldn’t be able to tell if you didn’t know him). 

“Don’t mind Floyd,” Jade waved off his brother's earlier statements. “He likes stirring up trouble. But this is for you.” He pushed the velvet box towards you. Nerves hit you like a truck, feeling a mix of excitement, anxiety and guilt. 

“A-are you sure?” You asked, looking up at Jade with wide, anxious eyes. 

“Well, if you don’t want it…” Jade muttered, a fake pout shaping his lips. “And with all the trouble I went through to make it…”

Now it’s your turn to pout, “It's not that I don’t want it, it just…feels wrong.” You carefully opened the box, eyes widening even more at the sight of a pearl necklace…real pearls. “Oh gosh I really don’t deserve this…”

“Hm,” Jade merely hummed, sharp eyes taking in your reaction. “I thought you humans like shiny things.”

“You’re thinking of crows,” You replied back seamlessly. “Well…I guess humans too. But it's more for the idea of wealth than its actual beauty.” 

“Then perhaps it’s not expensive enough for your tastes,” Jade teased, that mischievous grin resting on his lips.

“Wh-what! No! That’s not what I meant,” You fumbled. “I-it’s just that it's too expensive! A-and, wait, did you say you made it? Jade, are you crazy? That’s way too much…” 

‘Way too much for me,’ is what you wanted to say, but the way Jade was watching you, it felt like you’d be stepping on a trap if you were to finish that thought. No, he liked you far too much (for his own good) to let you go thinking like that. So, you decided to make him something in return. It would only be fair. With some yarn (and a lot of time/patience), you had first crafted a little jellyfish plush. You then realized you totally missed a golden opportunity and decided to make a mushroom plush as well. In comparison to Jade’s gift, it was nothing, but you hoped he’d enjoy it nonetheless. 

You brought the plushies with you on one of your hangouts with Jade. You were going to try making your own terrarium this time with his guidance (you hadn’t planted mushrooms before). And so, before you could start, you brought the plushies out of your bag and quickly handed them to the eel. 

“It’s a thank you, for the necklace,” You explained as Jade stared at the squishy plushies in his hands. “I-I made the jellyfish first ‘cus I knew I could…but then I realized a mushroom would’ve been better, so I decided why not both?”

“Fufu~ How thoughtful,” Jade chuckled. “I’ll cherish these with my life.” You merely rolled your eyes, he was clearly exaggerating, but little did you know that he actually meant his words. Carefully placing your little creations away neatly to take to his room later. 

 You’d find Floyd teasing you (but mostly Jade) after he found out you made the plushies (it wasn’t every day that his brother had a childrens toy…or was so protective of it). Even your friends were questioning things when you mentioned that the necklace was crafted by Jade Leech, the mer who was infamous in the school.

“He made you that?”

“Are you sure he didn’t just propose to you?”

“I’ve been telling you he likes you this entire time!”

You felt dumbfounded. Were you actually, truly oblivious? Had he been hinting at his feelings this entire time? But everything seemed 100% platonic! At least on his end, as you had found yourself falling for the mer over time. You thought you were being clouded by your personal feelings, and that he didn’t mean anything by his actions…had you been the fool this entire time? 

The final nail in the coffin was when you both were hanging out in his room. Floyd was at basketball practice (for once), Azul busy with filing his contracts, so it was just the two of you. You were on your phone, sitting on Jade's bed as Jade did school work at his desk. It was peaceful…except for your mind. You hated not knowing what was happening, what was friendly or what was romantic. Was any of it romantic? Was all of it romantic? Did he actually like you or was he messing with you? All your worries and anxieties bubbled up to the point of your insecurities spilling past your lips.

“Jade…Do you like me?” 

It was silent for a second as he stopped his writing, slowly turning to face you with an ‘innocent’ look, “Why of course. Have I done something to make you think I don’t?”

“N-no, I mean,” You let out a frustrated sigh, fiddling with the pearl necklace he gifted you, he made you, that laid across your neck. “Like…romantically.” You had hoped he couldn’t hear the end of your sentence, feeling like you were being conceited. But that sly smile on his face told you otherwise. You shrunk down as he paced closer, sitting next to you as he spoke.

“What gave it away?”

“H-huh?” You squeaked. Barely able to comprehend how fast the whole ordeal was going, the situation going from one to a hundred real quick. 

“Was it the food I provided you?” Jade questioned cheekily, tapping his chin in fake thought. “Perhaps it was the handcrafted jewelry? Have you finally read up on mer courtship?” You felt your mind reeling, courtship?? 

“You have been reciprocating, so I assumed you knew.” He knew damn well you didn’t. 

You were absolutely flabbergasted. Mouth agape, staring wide eyed. Was he serious? You wanted to bash your head into a wall. What does he mean you were reciprocating? You don’t recall doing anything that could be counted as romantic. 

“How bold of you to feed me,” Jade continued to tease, brushing his finger along your jaw. “How sweet of you to make me something from scratch. Hm, now there’s only one thing left to do to seal the deal~”

“Wh-wha?” You stammered. What the hell was happening. Seal the deal? What the hell did that mean? It was so hard to think when he touched you so gently. But then he released your face, holding your wrist and bringing it up to his face. 

“Don’t you understand, pearl?” Jade asked, lips quirked up as he trailed his lips up your forearm, ending near the junction of your elbow. “The last step is to mark your mate, or as you humans call it, your partner.” He nibbled gently at your skin, causing your breath to hitch, and your entire body felt like it was bursting into flames. 

“A-are you being serious right now?” You asked. Jade was an enigma, and even you found yourself wondering if he would like you romantically.

“I wouldn’t offer to mark just anyone,” He whispered, his eyes seeming to soften just the slightest. “At least not so gently.”

“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?” Instead of replying, he merely smiled at you, amused with your conversation. 

“I suppose for humans this might be a bit far,” Jade murmured, letting his lips linger on your skin, eyes longingly staring at where his mark could’ve been. You felt your heart pounding, not sure how to say that you were a bit…that you didn’t mind. 

“W-we’ve already got this far…” You trailed off, not able to meet his piercing gaze. In a flash, Jade’s lips were back at your upper forearm, giving a light kiss before he bit you. You winced in pain, forgetting the eel had sharp teeth that could easily tear you apart. But instead of causing you to bleed, he only bit down hard enough to bruise your skin to match the shape of his teeth. Then, he kissed the tender skin, but his eyes showed he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. 

“You reciprocate, no?” Jade then asked, eyes shining brightly. 

“I…yeah,” You nod, feeling like you were going to explode. 

Without a word, Jade started to loosen his tie, unbuttoning the first few buttons on his shirt. You felt like your face was on fire as Jade showed you his neck.

“N-not there!” You exclaimed. “P-people will get the wrong idea!” 

“No?” Jade pouted.

Biting your lip anxiously, you scooted closer. Taking his white button up, you pulled the collar over one shoulder. Jade was left astonished as you took the lead, rising up and biting his shoulder in a place others wouldn’t see. And as he felt his heart jump, he knew he made the right choice. You were such an odd human, and you found ways to surprise him every time he tried to fluster you. He never thought he’d be interested in romance, but you found a way to catch his eye. 

Bonus:

It was an impossibly warm day, and you found the long sleeves of your uniform to be your enemy. Completely forgetting about the mark on your inner arm, you rolled your sleeves up, fanning yourself as you sweat. 

“O. M. G.” Cater gasped. “Whose lunch did you become? #nsfw.”

“Huh?!” You shouted startled. Looking down at your arm your eyes widened, the purplish red bruise had faded to a lighter color, but it was still clearly a bite mark. “N-no it’s not like that.”

“Uhuh,” Cater said, eyeing you with a grin. “Like we all don’t know Jade’s been wanting to pounce on you for #forever.”

Unfortunately, there was no way of convincing him otherwise…not like the truth was much better.

[gghostwriter]

could you do spencer x fem!reader where he proposes in the middle of chasing an unsub?

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader Trope: Established relationship; Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.2k A/N: slowly finishing up on the remaining requests on my inbox. It’s taking me quite some time as I’m a mood writer so there’s days where I’m purely focused on my ideas then theres days where i’m motivated to finish the requests and theres days where i have no will to write a single word at all. Found myself rambling and immensly enjoying where the idea was going so hopefully this lives up to your expectation, no matter how late or unedited this is. Enjoy! Main masterlist

Curveball. // Spencer Reid

This wasn’t how Spencer planned it. Not at all.

By nature, he was a stickler to rules and organization. Having created a mind map on the trajectory of his life from the very first time he realized how different he was from the rest. Graduate early in high school, check. Get multiple BA and PhD degrees, multiple checks. Join the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico, big check. Everything was planned out. No matter how big or small.

Or at least it was, up until you strolled into the bullpen with your sensible heeled boots, crisp button downs, and tailor fitted slacks. A new recruit directly slotted by David Rossi, just like how Jason Gideon pulled rank to get him in the BAU. The stark difference was you weren’t as green as he was back then, fresh from the academy. With your credentials considered one of the best and with beaming approval from the BAU’s co-founder, David Rossi, and former member, Katie Cole of CACU, you were an immediate shoe in for the position—joining the team’s dynamic quite effortlessly and with ease.

Meeting you and falling helplessly in love with you by the end of your 6-month stay in the team was never written in Spencer’s books. He never thought once that he would find, as cliche as it sounded, a forever companion beyond the platonic relationships built within the team. He, in all of his intellect, also never thought you’d end up viewing him the same way but you did. He was so glad you did. Any disruption it caused to his mind map was a change he wholeheartedly welcomed as long as he got to come home with you wrapped in his arms.

But at the following moments, Spencer was re-considering his standpoint on the thrown curveballs that come his way all from being devotedly enamored with you.

“Spencer Reid!” you stomped your foot on the carpeted floor of the shared hotel room to gain his attention. “Did you suggest to Hotch that I be on geographical profile duty with you rather than being out with my usual partner Morgan?”

“What? No—no! Why would you think that, princess?”

With your arms crossed on your chest, hip cocked to one side, and analytical eyes cataloguing his every fidget, he knew his lie was done for.

You scoffed. “Oh I don’t know, besides from the fact you can’t look me in the eye, what else is there?” You took a minute to pause for dramatization. “Oh I know, is it because I bear a striking resemblance to all the victims? Or is it because of what happened during the last case?”

He scrunched his nose, giving himself away. “You got shot without me there, of course I got worried! What if—what if you weren’t wearing your kevlar vest or what if the unsub aimed higher, making sure to land a critical hit?” His form slumped down on the bed. “I can’t bear the thought of you in danger while I’m not around to protect you.”

“Spence, our job comes with a risk and I’m good at my job—”

“I know you are. I’ve seen you in target practice and tackle unsubs bigger than you but it also comes with the boyfriend territory that I worry whenever you’re away.”

You sighed, sitting beside him and taking his hand into yours. The difference in size was a sharp reminder on how petite and delicate you are in Spencer’s eyes. “And I get that too when we’re on duty and apart but you know what gets me by?” He shook his head, doe eyes peering into yours with such adoration. “Trust. I trust you to always come back to me, safe. In turn, I need you to trust me to do my job and take extra pre-caution with every decision I do in the field. Can you do that for me, sweet boy?”

He slowly nodded his head. “I—I can do that.”

“Next time, let’s also communicate any small or big concerns, okay Spence? I’d rather not feel lost and confused the next time a problem arises.”

“As long as you promise the same to me.”

You smiled before nodding your head in return. “Of course.”

He leaned in. Kissing those pouty lips that had been calling for him like a siren ever since the disagreement ensued.

———

“Alright,” Hotch’s no-nonsense voice called everyone’s attention. “The group of unsubs are currently holding two civilian hostages inside this very building. Morgan, Y/N, and Prentiss, you take the left entrance. Reid and Rossi, you’re with me at the right entrance.” Numerous affirmatives were echoed. “They’re armed and have proven themselves capable of killing. Vests tight and keep vigilant.”

Footsteps dispersed for preparation but before you could escape from Spencer’s line of sight, he pulled you close, adjusting your vest and making sure it was strapped tight around your chest.

“Be careful out there.”

A small smile graced your face before quickly disappearing from the thick tension all around the vicinity. “Always am. You too.”

“I mean it, princess. I need you back in one piece so I can marry you.”

You sucked in a breath. “W-what?”

“This wasn’t how I planned it but—” Hotch’s voice interrupted his ramblings. Reid. He turned and nodded once before returning his gaze back to your gobsmacked face. “—you did say to communicate right away so I love you and I want to marry you—” he squeezed your clammy hand into his. “—will you say yes?”

Reid. Another commanding voice coming from the unit chief.

Spencer smiled then before beginning his steps back to his position. It felt exhilarating to finally be the one throwing the curveball at you, no wonder you found joy in it—no matter how unconscious you were doing it. “I’ll hear your answer after, okay?”

“Oh, we’re so talking about this later.” you narrowed your eyes in return, taking steps to your opposite position. “Yes, Reid. See you later.”

Spencer looked down at his muddied sneakers, eyes gleaming from mirth and soul flying high unbound before taking a deep breath, schooling everything away and focusing all of him to catching these group of unsubs.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad not having everything go according to plan. After all, didn’t they usually say that the best things usually come when he’d least expect it? And you were the perfect definition of that phrase. His own beautiful disruptor and he wouldn’t have you in any other way.

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