#the BAU

[reidiot]

the fact that these were taken at strauss' funeral is still sending me through the stratosphere 💀💀

[samuelsdean]

The Dangers of Tennis Skirts

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: “you know, reid,” you said, “guys ask girls out on a date before they bury their faces into their thighs.”

genre: fluff

word count: 817

author's notes: this is my first ever blurb! i wrote this to practice writing blurbs & writing this was so fun. also, i hope anon doesn’t mind that i wrote this with a fem!reader in mind & reader noticing spencer getting flustered. i just think it would be a lot funnier that way. thank you for this cute request, anon! i got to practice writing blurbs and it's about shy!spencer? a win for me! i hope you'll love this ♡

“REID, YOU OKAY?” Morgan asked the younger male.

Despite his blatant intelligence and many talents, Spencer Reid is just a man. And just like any hot-blooded guy out there who is interested in exploring the curves and dips of a woman’s body, Spencer can’t help but have his IQ slashed down to sixty, or whatever it was Emily said before. And unfortunately for him, hiding the effect of seeing you in a short, white tennis skirt for the first time is not one of Spencer’s talents.

“Yep,” Spencer said, popping the p as he tried to stop his ogling—cue the word, stop—but failed magnanimously, eyes wide, pulse racing, and mouth gaping. 

Morgan frowned at the doctor's weird behavior. Usually, when asked how he is, Spencer would go on tangents that would be relevant to the conversation at hand. A single Yep! would not suffice for the boy genius.

Something is going on with him, Morgan thought. 

Worried but still weirded out by Spencer, Morgan followed his line of sight and guffawed at what he found. You just entered the bullpen in a fluffy beige sweater, a white tennis skirt, and with your hair tied with a white ribbon. 

"Oh, pretty boy," Morgan exclaimed between chuckles. "You are hopeless!" 

"Who's hopeless?" Garcia, who just sat on one of the chairs available, interjected. 

Morgan continued chuckling and motioned to Spencer, whose eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, and then pointed at you just entering the area. Garcia gasped in happiness. She always thought you and boy genius would make the perfect couple. 

And like Spencer, Garcia has many talents. One of which is playing Cupid.

Making the most out of Spencer’s inattentiveness—busy staring at you—Garcia made quick work of calling you over to talk about your cute outfit.

“Hey, Y/N!” Garcia blurted out. “I love LOVE your outfit. We all do.”

She made sure to gesture at Morgan and definitely at Spencer. “Right, boy genius?”

This interrupted Spencer in reverie and unfortunately for him, he’s not the most subtle when he’s back from being lost in thought.

“Are you okay, Reid?” You asked, none the wiser at the obvious display of Spencer getting distracted by your outfit, specifically, your skirt.

Spencer’s eyes widened at your concern. Frightened you’d find out the reason he was dazed was because of you, he instantly stood up from his seat, failing to notice that an electric cord was stuck beneath the chair. And with his quick scrambling, coupled with the fact that his reflexes are akin to that of a toddler just learning to walk, Spencer ended up falling face-first into the floor.

At his clumsiness, Morgan snickered loudly, earning him a slap from Garcia with a matching, “You are not helping at all!” And a glare from you to which he raised his arms in defeat. You held your palm out for Spencer to reach, who was busy trying to dust off his pants, not noticing it was you helping him up until he looked up. 

Aside from talents, Spencer was blessed with the gift of hard luck. And unfortunately for him, it seemed his hard luck always tripled in front of a pretty girl—you. Because instead of looking into your eyes when he looked up, his eyes landed on the plush softness of your thighs, which you haven’t failed to notice.

Spencer never wanted to dig a hole and jump in it so badly before today.

You were already giggling, cheeks reddening at the thought of your effect on the genius. Imagine reducing a cute guy with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory to a clumsy mess on the floor. Quite flattering, especially if he happened to be the guy you have been crushing on for quite some time now. Not that he knew that, of course. But a girl has gotta take her chances, right? And what better way to tease the hell out of your crush than when he was face-first into your thighs?

“You know, Reid,” You said coolly, “Guys ask girls out on a date before they bury their faces into their thighs.”

Spencer’s eyes bulged out even more while Morgan was belly laughing at this point, Garcia right behind him, giggling in delight. 

“I-I uh,” Spencer began to ramble, trying to come up with a tangent that could get him out of this mess, failing to remember that just like him, you were gifted with many talents as well. And that is making the most out of an unfortunate—not unfortunate, your crush is face first on your thighs!—situation.

“Sorry, Spence,” You chortled, ruffling his hair. “You’re not getting out of this one. We are going out after this case.”

This got Morgan falling out of his chair in laughter, Garcia giggling along, and Spencer’s pinkened cheeks resembling an actual tomato with their redness.

[milfsincrime]

rossi: family dinner at my mansion tonight, attendance is mandatory

derek: is this really just therapy where we sit and eat pasta whilst talking about the shared trauma of that case?

emily: or as i like to call it, penne for your thoughts

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Vice.

Synopsis - Everyone on the team has their vices. It just so happens that yours is sat across the table looking at you.

Pairing - Luke Alvez x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. luke has a gorgeous filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1.6k

Author's Note - my baby my baby my BAAAAAABY!! I have been in love with this man for years and years and I can't believe I haven't written more for him. if you ever have a luke request, please send it to me. love him with my whole heart <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

Vice - a weakness of character or behaviour; a bad habit. "Cigars happen to be my father's vice."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Italian food."

The entire team laughs, faces illuminated by the warm yellow lights in Rossi's backyard.

"Yeah, no shit," Tara retorts, looking pointedly at Dave. "Doesn't take a behavioural analyst to figure that one out."

"Look, you asked the question, I answered."

He reclines back in his chair and takes a sip of his wine, looking around the table.

"Okay Tara, you go. What's your vice?"

She chuckles to herself before confessing.

"Super steamy period romances."

Everyone bursts into more laughter.

"Wait, what?"

"What kind?"

She's clutching at her sides as she answers.

"All kinds! Movies, books, TV shows. If it has corsets and sex, I'm in."

Your cheeks are aching from smiling so hard. You're not sure who first raised the initial question, but it's really allowed you to get to know each other a little bit deeper.

"Okay, enough about me. Simmons, what's your vice?"

"I have six kids. I don't have time for a vice."

He sounds serious, but he's grinning as he says it.

"I think the six kids are a result of an old vice."

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, several glasses of wine almost obliterating your verbal filter. Your team howl with laughter.

"No comment," Matt wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. "Golfing is a safer option now. No risk of unplanned surprises."

"I had to change mine after kids, too," JJ chimes in. "I used to smoke cigarettes after bad cases, but I can't anymore. What kinda mom would I be if I lectured the boys about the dangers of nicotine, and then got caught chain smoking in the backyard?"

"A cool one," you shrug, yelping when she jokingly punches you in the arm.

"What about you, hotshot?" she asks, the whole team turning their attention to you. "What's your vice?"

You desperately avoid any eye contact, trying to play it cool. You just know Luke has that glint in his eye as he looks at you pointedly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Oh, fuck," you groan, fingers threading into the dark curls of his hair.

"Shhh, honey," he murmurs, lifting his head from between your legs to look up at you. "You and I both know how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught."

He dives back in, tongue gliding and flicking all the spots that make you keen. You slap one hand over your mouth, the other grappling to hold onto the leather beneath you.

"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he taunts, condescension dripping from his tone. "The thrill turns you on, doesn't it, baby? The risk of getting caught only makes you hotter."

You whine against your palm, bucking your hips to urge him to keep going.

"What do you want, princesa? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

He loves this. Loves hearing you beg. Loves having you relinquish complete control and let him take care of you. Loves that he can turn you, the most independent, headstrong woman he knows, into a whining, needy mess.

"Fingers," you croak out. "Make me come, Luke, please."

He grins up at you like the cat who got the cream, self satisfied smirk never leaving his lips.

"Okay, baby," he soothes. "Since you asked so pretty."

He slides two fingers into you with embarrassing ease, crooking them in the way he knows you like.

"Oh, sweet girl, what would the team think? Huh? What do you think they'd say if they saw you like this, letting me finger fuck you in the backseat of my car in the parking garage?"

He's muttering lowly, under his breath, but you hear him clear as day. He loves to patronise you, tease you, get under your skin. In everyday life, he treats you with the utmost respect. In bed, not so much. You love it.

"Couldn't even wait until we got home. Poor baby, just had to take the edge off."

His eyes meet yours, like a magnetic force. His gaze is so dark, it has you squirming in place.

"It was the shirt," you choke out. "Fucking shirt."

"Hmm?" he hums against you, the vibrations pulling you closer to the edge.

"Your shirt," you moan as his thumb finds your clit. "Makes your arms look so, fuck, so big."

Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You can practically see his ego inflating.

"I'll let you wear it tomorrow morning, if you want. If you can still walk by then, that is."

You're right on the precipice, orgasm almost within reach. If he keeps talking to you like this, you'll be at the finish line in no time.

"Oh, I've got a better idea. Why don't I fuck you in it?"

The idea makes your head spin, sending you straight into your climax. Sharp white heat licks up your spine, curling your toes and arching your back. Your grip tightens in his hair and he groans, low and honeyed.

"That's it, baby," he's murmuring. "Ride it out. Good girl."

You finally relax, melting into the leather seats. Luke crawls from his position to lean over you, resting his body onto yours. He kisses you gently at first, then dirtier as you come back to yourself.

"My place or yours?" he whispers against your lips.

"Yours is closer."

"Mine it is."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hello? Earth to Hotshot?"

JJ nudges you playfully, grinning at you from ear to ear.

"What you thinking about?"

"Nothing," you stutter, clearing your throat. "Nothing at all."

You make the mistake of lifting your gaze from your lap. There, staring at you from across the table, is Luke Alvez. You almost wish you could slap that smug smirk off of his face.

"Come on, girl!" Tara hollers.

"Everyone has a vice," Spencer begins. "You have to. Especially in our line of work. We have to have some kind of outlet. Some sort of release."

Release. You almost choke on your wine, patting yourself on the chest.

"Yeah, no. I, uh, I like British reality TV. I guess that's mine."

The team laugh, everyone teasing you relentlessly. You risk a glance at Luke, and regret it immediately. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and chuckles, knowing look in his eye. You're petrified for a moment that he can read your mind.

"Okay then Spence. Your turn," you prompt, desperate to take the attention off yourself.

Spencer starts rambling about quantum physics, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Relief.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Yeah, this is what you needed, isn't it baby?"

You try to respond, but Luke's huge hands wrapped around your throat are making it a little difficult.

"My poor sweet girl, just needed some relief huh? You sick of being in charge all the time? You want me to take care of you?"

His tone is low and melted, the timbre of it settling into your bones. All you can do is whine and nod your head in response.

His hips repeatedly snap into yours, his body melded to you. He's completely smothering you with his weight, but you don't mind. You like the closeness.

You lean up to kiss him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He's swallowing your moans, leaning his head forward to rest against yours.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty," he groans. "You gonna come for me, mama? Give me what I want?"

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes. Please, baby. Please."

"Who am I to deny you when you beg so fucking sweet?"

The hand that's not around your throat snakes between your sweat slicked bodies to rub circles on your clit, throwing you over the edge.

Your back arches, hips writhing on Luke's soft cotton sheets. You're squeezing him so tight he's seeing stars.

"Oh fuck baby, oh fuck."

Luke goes boneless, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. He releases his grip on your throat and wraps both arms around you, pressing you together impossibly closer.

"We get better at this every time," he chuckles.

You smack him jokingly, before bursting into laughter. Soon, the two of you are crying happy tears, revelling in the afterglow.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"I'm gonna get a refill. Anyone need anything from the kitchen?"

You stand from your seat and make your way inside, taking note of the replies.

"I'll help you," Luke says, rising to join you. Neither of you see the way everyone at the table looks at each other knowingly.

You're barely through the door when you feel him against you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a kiss onto your shoulder, murmuring in your ear.

"I'm your vice, aren't I?"

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh.

"In your dreams, Alvez."

He nips at your neck before continuing.

"Admit it. I'm your dirty little bad habit that you just can't kick."

You turn in his arms to face him, running your fingers through his hair.

"Talk the talk all you want, Luke. You and I both know this works both ways."

Your quirk your brow at him, and he leans in and kisses you chastely.

"Old habits die hard, huh?" he grins.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," you smirk back.

Outside, the team decide they'll continue to let you both lie to them for a little while longer. It's more fun for everyone that way.

[sapphirebluejewel]

Endless List of Platonic Relationships That I Love - The BAU Family

"Friendship multiplies the good of life and divides its evil."

[amandasmoviess]

Hotch: why do I have to be the one to do this?

Penelope: because you’re the boss man!

Hotch *sighs*: 7 tickets for Barbie please

The team *except for hotch and Rossi*: YAYYYY!!

[spencestiel-michelle]

Garcia: why did the chicken cross the road? 

Reid: suicide. 

JJ: sacrifice.

Derek: to get hit by a truck. 

Emily: to die.

Garcia: to.. to get to the other side- are- are you guys okay?

[demonicbaby666]

Spencer: hi [silence] Spencer: all your bones are wet Emily: why the fuck would you say that? Spencer: no one said hi back…

[scarlettjemily]

Emily having a laugh before she gets blown the fuck up and traumatises half the bau

[heartralvez]

my magnum opus

[reidiot]

if i don't watch criminal minds for one (1) day i'm starting to feel withdrawal symptoms is this normal

[magewritesstories]

anothere meme (i contemplated putting prison reid in currently on the run but decided against it)

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Engagement Party

Season Three Episode Four

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

Words: 2526

Series Masterlist

Summary: After harrowing events have left everyone drained, the team takes the time to celebrate their favorite engaged couple. 

Notes: This is my apology for next week. 

-

It was supposed to be a surprise but thanks to Aaron’s warning and Penelope’s less-than-subtle hints about the night’s ‘dinner party,’ you knew at least somewhat what you were getting yourselves into. 

“Are you ready?” You asked, helping Spencer out of the car. 

He winced. “Do we have to?” Parties weren’t exactly his thing- especially if he was at the center of it. 

“You know Penelope would kill us if we bailed. She’s worked so hard on all of this. She even convinced Dave to let us use his house.” You kissed his cheek. “Besides, it’ll be fun.” 

Spencer counted the cars in the driveway. Everyone was here. They must all be waiting inside. 

You spotted Aaron’s car and swallowed. 

You hadn’t spoken to your brother since you found out he stepped down as Unit Chief. When you talked to Derek- his choice for command- you could tell that he was worried. Aaron was getting reckless, he was getting desperate. It scared you. 

But tonight wasn’t about that. 

Tonight was about you and Spencer and celebrating with the people you loved. 

“You okay?” Spence asked, grabbing your hand through the gap in his crutches. 

You gave him a small smile. “Yeah. Let’s go before the pasta gets cold, huh?” 

Rossi was at the door before you even got a chance to knock. “I was wondering when you two would finally show up. Garcia is driving me crazy.” 

He smiled and ushered you inside. 

You and Spencer exchanged a look and you gave his hand another squeeze. 

“So what’s the occasion for the, um, dinner party,” Reid asked, straining the last two words.

“I’ll let them tell you.” Rossi turned on the lights in the kitchen. 

“Surprise!” A chorus of cheers erupted at you as the whole team jumped out from behind the counter. 

You both put on your best 'shocked' faces.

“Oh my god you guys,” you beamed. “This is amazing.”

“And totally unexpected,” Spence said in a less than convincing tone. 

You nudged his side. 

Penelope hurried around the counter and pulled the two of you into a hug. 

“I am so so happy for you two,” she gushed. “We all wanted to do something since you didn’t really get to celebrate before.” 

“Getting attacked by a serial killer tends to dampen the spirit,” you muttered. 

Spence glanced at you. 

You did that sometimes. Hid things behind the idea of insignificance or humor to make it feel less real. He let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, kissing your forehead. 

“What are we waiting for, let’s get this party started!” You cheered, stepping out of your fiance’s concerned, caring hold. 

Emily poured the sparkling cider while Derek dished up the salad for you. 

“Breaking my heart, Professor Hot Stuff,” he teased. 

“Oh, Agent Morgan,” you laid a hand on his cheek. “It never would have worked out between us.” 

Derek chuckled and pulled you into a hug, kissing your cheek. “Congratulations, Y/N.” 

You finished piling dinner onto your plate and sat at the table next to JJ and Will. 

Spencer watched you from across the dining room. He couldn’t help but admire your smile, your laugh as you joked with the blonde agent, the way your hair reflected the lights of the chandelier. 

Your smile was genuine, your laugh full. 

Even in the darkness of everything, you managed to be a light. His light. 

“She’s really something, huh?” Rossi said, handing Reid a glass of cider. 

“Yeah.” Reid smiled. “She’s everything.” 

Rossi chuckled and pat the younger agent on the back. “Ah, young love.” He gave him a teasing wink. “Makes me nauseous. Let’s join the others.” 

Spencer laughed and followed him out to the table where he sat between Morgan and Hotch, across from where you were telling JJ about how he’d tried to bring you breakfast one morning, but because of his crutches he ended up dropping the tray on you while you were sleeping.

“It’s the thought that counts, right?” You snickered. 

“Sure, make fun of the crippled guy. It’s not like he was injured in the line of duty or anything,” Spence fired back, lightly kicking you with his good leg under the table. 

“I know that Dr. Barton is certainly thankful it was your leg and not his head,” JJ said, taking a drink of her water. 

“I’d be thankful if you didn’t almost die every few months,” you muttered, smirking. 

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Coming from you?”

You both laughed, joined by the others at the table. It was a kind of humor that only they could appreciate. They knew how important it was to make light of your lives every once in a while- even if it meant making light of the moments your lives almost ended. 

The only one who didn’t laugh was Aaron. He smiled a little, but you see the tension in his shoulders and in the way he held his fork. 

He was thinking about Foyet. About you lying on the floor next to him, bleeding out. 

So you raised your glass in his direction. 

“To beating the odds and to surviving when we probably shouldn’t have,” you said. He lifted his eyes to yours and you gave him a reassuring nod. “And to the people who help us through it afterward.” 

“Here here,” Emily cheered. 

Everyone raised their glasses, Aaron being the last. 

Your brother watched you for a moment and something passed between you. An odd mix of hope and fear that only something like this- after what you’d been through- could bring about. He was thrilled you were happy and he didn’t want anything to hurt you ever again. 

You mouthed that three-word phrase and clinked your glass against his. 

“I love you too,” Aaron whispered. 

Dinner passed in casual conversation, laughter, and many teasing remarks from Derek and Penelope. You helped JJ clear the plates and noticed that people had started whispering. 

Every time you tried to catch Penelope and Emily in their secret conversation, they just smiled and waved innocently at you. 

You gave them a glare and a hand motion that said ‘I’m watching you.’ 

They batted their lashes like they had no idea what you meant.

You just smiled and shook your head. 

“Is there something about tonight that I don’t know about?” You asked JJ once you were both taking dishes to the kitchen. 

She simply shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She checked her watch. “But if you could go sit with your fiance right now, that would be great.” 

“You know surprises aren’t either of our thing, right?”

“I told you.” JJ winked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shooed you away and you found that Derek had moved, leaving the seat next to Spencer empty. 

You leaned down and kissed his cheek. “They’re planning something else.”

“Yeah.” He turned to you and spoke through a smile. “I got that when we walked in the door.” 

“I’m starting to rethink your idea of running.” 

He laughed and took your hand. “It’s too late now. We just have to endure it.” 

Right as he said it, a song began over the speakers. 

“Now I… had… the time of my life.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, putting a hand over your mouth to contain your laughter. 

“What?” Spencer looked around, confused. “I don’t get it. What’s the song?”

Your mouth fell open. “You’ve never seen Dirty Dancing?”

He gave you his usual thin-lipped smile and shook his head. 

“I know what we’re doing on our honeymoon.” 

“I don’t think movies are the traditional route.” Spence leaned over and kissed you, taking you by surprise. He wasn’t usually one for public displays of affection, but the way he smiled when he pulled back gave you butterflies. 

Emily, JJ, and Penelope all came out of the kitchen at the chorus, belting at the top of their lungs. 

“Because I had the time of my life!” They all sang, working together to carry the biggest cookie you’d ever seen in your life. It was chocolate chip, with frosting written across the top. 

Congrats Y/N and Spencer! 

Beneath the lettering, two ring pops were stuck into the cookie, blue and red. 

“What is this?” Spencer laughed. 

Morgan came up behind him to russell his hair. “Congratulations, Lover-Boy.” 

By the next chorus, everyone was singing-even Aaron, with a grin that was becoming rarer and rarer anymore. 

“Come on.” You grabbed Spencer’s hand and pulled him out of the chair, letting him put his weight on you instead of his bad leg. You waved to everyone else. “If we’re doing this, so are all of you.” 

You led Spencer and the rest of the group to the back patio where you could still hear the music, and you started to dance. 

For Spence, of course, it was more swaying than anything else, but you spun and dipped and circled around him, making him grin wider than you thought was possible. 

He spun you into his arms and held you there, moving with the music as it changed into something slower. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you too.” 

You kissed him, not caring that everyone was still dancing around you- even when you heard Derek’s slow whistle. You just flipped him off over Spence’s shoulder and smiled against your fiance’s lips. 

Eventually, the music died down and you stood in the middle of the patio, forehead pressed against Spencer’s, looking into each other’s eyes. As the beat vanished, it was replaced by the tapping of a glass. 

Penelope stood with a tray full of more sparkling cider, tapping one of the flutes with a knife. 

“If the two of you thought you were getting out of this without speeches, you are very mistaken,” she grinned.

“Penelope, that’s what vows are for,” you laughed. 

“Yes, well, we can work on those later.” She handed out the flutes, ending with the two of you. “Now profess your love, my loves.” 

Everyone stood around you, smiling and waiting. 

“Okay, I guess we’re doing this.” You kept an arm around Spencer to support him without his crutches, your fingers gripping his shirt to support your nerves. “Clearly, I didn’t have anything prepared, so thank you, Penelope.” 

“Yes, thanks Garcia,” Spencer laughed. 

“You’re so very welcome.” She waved a hand for you to continue. 

A round of snickers circled around and you took a deep breath. 

“I guess,” you took a step back so you could hold up your glass to the man beside you, “A toast to Dr. Spencer Reid. Someone who has not only become the person I want to be with for forever, but who has anchored me through the stormiest seas. He is a light in the darkness, a voice in the terrifying quiet.” You found yourself blinking back tears, struggling to get your words out. “Spencer, there aren’t the words to describe exactly what you’ve done for me or even begin to express how I feel, so I’ll start with these: I love you, Dr. Spencer Reid and thank you for showing me what it’s like to be loved the way you love me.” 

Even Dave was dabbing his eyes when you were finished, everyone listening intently and contently. 

Spencer kissed you without hesitating, his emotions taking over. 

You pulled back, smirking. “If I have to, you have to.” 

“I know, I know.” He kissed you again quickly. He paused. He took a drink. He cleared his throat. 

“Come on, Boy Genius. It takes way more than this to shut you up,” Morgan teased. 

Emily elbowed him. 

Spencer inhaled sharply, looking down at the ground to not psych himself out. 

“I used to think that love- attraction, romance, intimacy- were all chemicals in our brains in order to ensure procreation. I know now that that can’t possibly be true.” He swallowed and looked back at you. “Because you have taken so much more than my mind. Everything I am is yours.” Spencer held you a little closer. “We all know how short life is. How uncertain everything can be.” He held up his glass. “So, to Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N.  I don’t want to spend another minute not spending my life with you.” 

You came together for another passionate kiss and everyone cheered. 

The music started up again. 

It took a few moments of celebrating for Spencer to realize you weren’t next to him anymore. 

With everyone dancing and celebrating, he slipped off to find you, feeling Hotch’s eyes on him as he left. 

You were sitting on the front steps, tears streaming down your cheeks, your hand searching for the necklace that wasn’t there. 

“That’s definitely not the reaction I was hoping for,” Spence said, sitting down beside you. He took your hand. “What is it?” 

“It’s like you said. Life is so uncertain. You almost died of anthrax. I almost died on my birthday- twice. I mean, Hayley isn’t here because she had to be put in protective custody from the man who almost killed me and my brother. The man who took the gift you gave me for my graduation.” You laid your hand flat on your collarbone. 

Spencer frowned. “You didn’t tell me that.” 

“It’s what he took. The souvenir he’ll put on his next victim.” You leaned forward, arms on your knees. “I know it’s such a stupid thing to be upset about, but I loved that necklace, and now…” You trailed off, shoulders slumped. You gave him a small smile. “Sorry.”

Spencer laid a hand on your cheek. “Don’t be.” 

You pressed your lips to his palm. “I promise, it’s been a great night. I guess it just hits me sometimes.” 

He tucked a hair behind your ear and shifted so he was standing again. 

“I hope it’s not too much for one more thing.” 

You tilted your head. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, as Garcia pointed out, last time, things didn’t end up going the way we thought they would. And I know our lives are far from normal.” Spencer put a shaky hand in his pocket.

Why was he so nervous? 

It wasn’t like you hadn’t already said yes. 

“But I thought I’d try at least one thing that was traditional.” 

Spencer got down on his good knee, holding on to the rail with one hand, and pulling a small box out of his pocket with the other. 

You gasped as he opened the box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen. Vintage with a diamond surrounded by sapphire.

“Spence-”

“Do you like it? I found it at an antique store and it made me think of you and-”

You interrupted him by nearly tackling him, pressing your lips to his. 

“They’re over here!” Emily’s voice called. She grinned down at you. “Oh god, am I interrupting something?” 

The rest of the group all rushed around the corner to join her. 

You both glanced around at the people who meant more than any toast could describe. Your eyes met your brother’s. 

And he smiled.

-

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt;  hereforsmutbcicantgetenough;  violetbossler;  hyper-half-blood;  i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48;  @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird; @ jjunebug; @ xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx; @ lillianacristina

[samuelsdean]

If you won't do it, I will.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you were so engrossed with images of you kissing Reid and him kissing you back that you forgot one detail—the man could wake up at any moment without you noticing. and he did wake up. You just failed to notice, too busy ogling his pink lips.

genre: fluff & angst

word count: 3.7k

author's notes: another tooth-rotting spencer reid fluff because i said so! you can listen to watch you sleep by girl in red & out of my league by fitz and the tantrums while reading this because those were the songs i listened to while writing this and i think they fit really well with this fic.

THAT DARN SUNLIGHT, YOU SHOULD GET YOUR BLINDS FIXED WHEN YOU’RE FREE—THEN IT HITS YOU. You just got it fixed about two weeks ago. You are definitely not in your room.

Scrambling to get up, you were about to jump off whichever bed you ended up in last night when you felt a warm, lithe arm tucked underneath yours, clasping you in a soft embrace like a lover. Now that you think about it, you could feel this person’s hair tickling your chin and their warm breath against your neck.

This is seriously freaking you out. You have no idea who you are cuddling with. Jesus Christ, how many shots did you drink last night? Why would the team let you go home drunk with some guy? 

Gently, you removed the arm wrapped around your waist and slowly pushed away the brunette positioned snugly between your head and shoulder. No way.

The person you are cuddling with is none other than your genius coworker.

Dr. Spencer Reid.

Like any other normal person would do—no person in their right mind would sleep with their coworkers, literally and figuratively—you checked yourself for any presence of clothing. Thank God, you did not completely lose your mind last night and slept with Reid. But it still doesn’t explain why you were wearing his faded Star Trek shirt and one of his pajama pants.

Fucking hell, did he change your clothes for you? You were ready to catch the next plane and disappear at this point.

You were about to start berating yourself for getting into this mess when you noticed how the sunlight made the man beside you look more angelic than usual.

The sun seemed to caress every freckle on his face, the slight pink tinge from the cold morning air, and his hair—although unruly from the tossing and turning during the night—could pass for that of a shampoo model. Pretty.

And his lips.

They looked even more inviting right now, pink and full and parted slightly, as he breathed in and out small puffs of air, finally sleeping soundly following a week of sleepless nights tracking down an unsub. You roamed your eyes once more on his face, starting from his hair and down to where his upper body was covered by an old shirt and the blanket you shared—forgetting your initial dilemma as to how you ended up in bed with your coworker (whom you have a big crush on).

Thank goodness you did not have sex with the one guy you were practically in love with for years. It would be nice to remember every detail of that rendezvous—if that ever happens. You groaned inwardly. This is not the time to fantasize about your coworker, Y/N! You need to get out of bed and out of his house.

But a part of you longs to keep pretending that this is real. That sleeping next to—cuddling, let us be honest—Reid is a usual occurrence. Pursing your lips, you closed your eyes and willed yourself to go back to sleep. Let the future version of you worry about how you will handle waking next to your coworker. Except you could not.

You wished you could tattoo what Reid looked like in the early morning light when he was asleep and without that crease between his brows that seemed to be etched permanently from all the stress of chasing unsubs around the country.

You gotta admit, some days, you yearned for Reid’s eidetic memory. You wished you could have memories of him engraved in your brain that no matter what you do, you could not help it. He would be there. A persistent thought. But then again, you were in too deep with your feelings for the man that you think, even without an eidetic memory, you could definitely recount all your favorite memories with him in a heartbeat.

So, you chose to stay awake.

This is not looking good for you. How else would you explain to someone—your coworker, of all people—who just woke up why you were staring at them while they slept. God, you are down horrendously.

He looked so peaceful like this. Pink cheeks, freckles, and messy hair. He looked so adorable you wished you could pepper his face with kisses and bury your face in his chest. And he is snoring lightly. He is endearing.

You are never getting another chance like this. This will not hurt anyone, right?

Hence, you took in every tiny detail, every freckle, every mole, and every scar you could see. You committed to memory every inch of skin your eyes could reach before the man beside you woke up. You tried to learn by heart what this man looks like when he is untroubled and at peace—what he looks like in the eyes of his future lover when they wake up next to him because that would never be you.

It would never be you.

And that could happen any day now. Reid was bound to find someone who would love him. He was the easiest person to love. He was not a prince charming nor the male lead of a romance novel kind of guy, But he has this boyish charm.

Let us be real. Reid was probably the most uncoordinated guy alive and the most socially awkward person ever. But you were taken by him. The moment he started spewing facts and statistics about anything and everything under the sun, you were done for.

He could talk to you about why worms were called worms and the probability of people dying on their birthdays. And you would listen to him willingly. You were that taken by him. Not to mention, it does not help your case that Reid was probably the prettiest person alive. Well, not literally, but he was that close to being the prettiest person—in your opinion of course.

He had messy, brown curls that looked like they barely experienced the touch of a comb, but you knew they were soft. You knew because every time Reid did something endearing—everything he did was endearing, for you—you always ruffled his hair. This would make him grumble about how he had to fix it again and to which you would reply with a cheeky, You know what a comb is? And Reid would roll his eyes at you.

He had hazel eyes that reminded you of a puppy dog. They were mostly brown with a tinge of green. Most days, it reminded you of being cozy, drinking hot chocolate by the fire. They looked like you were coming home. They always looked like they were pleading for you to stare at them. And you admit you have lost count of the many times Reid had to flick his fingers in front of you with a matching Earth to Y/N and a mini history lesson starting with a Did you know that the history behind that phrase comes from science fiction movies showing people on earth sending messages to people in space?

And Reid always wore the fluffiest cardigans and sweater vests, reminding you of your teddy bear collection at your childhood home. It was crazy how if you saw anyone else in the law enforcement track having the same fashion sense as Reid, you would probably think of them as ridiculous. He wore a pair of black converse sneakers, among other things. For heaven’s sake! Come on! You have to go after seasoned criminals—you at least have to look the part. Right? You have to look imposing and menacing to intimidate them in interrogation rooms. However, the teddy bear look—as you’d like to call it—works so well for Reid. 

What is more, is that Reid fits your ideal type. He is probably the poster boy for it. Ever since you were never into the macho guys and their big muscles. No offense to them because those are their bodies. They look good, but you like your men a little scrawny. You liked lean and really tall men. And Reid is definitely that. He may have failed his fitness test a gazillion times, but the man was in no way, shape, or form, unhealthy. He had the right muscles at the right places and besides, he literally goes after serial killers. He is fit alright.

Lost in your thoughts, you were damn near ogling the man beside you and ended up looking fixedly at his lips. You always thought he had kissable lips, minus the fact that it is probably because you were practically in love with the guy.

You wanted to kiss him so bad it is killing you right now. But in your good conscience, you couldn’t and you wouldn’t. You were completely aware of Reid being a germaphobe, and he has mentioned countless times, kissing is more hygienic than shaking another person’s hand, kissing a sleeping person was out of the books for you. One, the person couldn’t consent because they were unconscious. Two, you were not his lover. Kissing him while he was asleep would be a violation to him. Not to mention, unwelcomed and creepy as hell. Imagine waking up and someone has their lips slobbering your face. Icky!

You were so engrossed with images of you kissing Reid and him kissing you back that you forgot one detail—the man could wake up at any moment without you noticing.

And he did wake up. You just failed to notice, too busy ogling his pink lips.

“If you won’t do it, I will.”

You froze in place.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, you rushed to leap out of Reid’s bed—almost toppling over on the floor in an unladylike fashion. You probably would look worse than Reid when he was huffing and puffing during his last fitness test mandated by the bureau.

But before you could jump out and run away from the man beside you, Reid had all but effortlessly pulled you towards him. You ended up burying yourself into his chest face first as you clutched his shirt to break the fall. It is not even 8 am in the morning yet, and you have managed to embarrass yourself enough for your parents to cut off all ties with you. You would rather dig yourself a hole to die in than be here.

Knowing you have nowhere else to escape, you believe it was time to lie on the bed you made. Sluggishly, you pulled your face away from the lean chest you descended on and peeped up at the angelic face you’d been staring at for the past hour with a sheepish smile.

“H-hi, Reid!”

This is just pure torture. Reid probably knew why you looked like an actual tomato with how red you are, at this moment. He is smiling at you like a cat who ate the canary as he suppressed a laugh.

“I didn’t know you had a clumsy side to you, Y/L/N,” Reid snickered.

What?

“What?” You frowned, which made Reid chuckle some more, shaking his head.

“Nothing,” you scrunch your brows as you tilt your head in confusion, “You just seem so formidable on the field and interrogation room. I’d hate to be the one you’re tracking down,” Reid responded.

“Oh, um,” you grinned as you thought of the perfect rib for the man in front of you, “Just because I’m an FBI agent doesn’t mean I can’t be uncoordinated every now and then. I mean, I know plenty of agents who are quite the klutz on the daily,” you peered at him while he gawps in protest.

“Hey!” He argued, scowling at you.

God, he’s endearing.

“I didn’t mention any names,” you chortled, raising your hand in defense, which made him roll his eyes.

You cracked up at his juvenile actions. In turn, Reid smiled in amusement.

God, you can’t believe that you’re laying on a bed beside Reid. With Reid—like it’s an everyday thing. The smiles. The banter. The laughter. This is crazy. You could get used to this. Sleeping next to him and not just next to him—like the ones you have during your cases where you get to be roommates. No, sleeping on one bed, next to each other. Waking up next to each other. Hearing his gruff morning voice.

You could get used to this.

You can’t.

You shouldn’t.

Reid is your friend. A coworker. You shouldn’t be fantasizing about sleeping and waking up next to him, that is unprofessional. Not to mention, you would be breaking one of the golden rules of the bureau. Never fraternize with a fellow agent on the same unit. 

Seemingly lost in thought, you retreated from the man beside you, as you grimaced.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Reid,” you smiled glumly, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” you patted his cheek gently.

“Is this about you waking up in my bed? I swear no—”

“I know, Reid,” you sighed, “You would never hurt me. I was drunk last night. I’m sure you brought me here because you were too tired to take me home. We just got back from a case and I shouldn’t have drank a lot of shots after all the sleepless nights,” you were slowly sitting up now, “But thank you, Reid. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Always, Y/N.”

This made you smile.

Trust Reid to always make your heart flutter at the tiniest gestures. He’s probably the most genuine and compassionate person you know. It breaks your heart every time you remember that his actions might make you feel butterflies in your stomach, but he does them not because he sees you romantically—he just does them because that is just how he is—caring.

“I’m gonna get up now,” you muttered.

“So, that’s it?”

This made you pause.

“What do you mean?” You looked at him, to which he scoffed.

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“No, I really don’t, Reid,” you scowled, growing irritated at this whole situation, his riddles, and him, for being so perfect, “So, you better tell me because you scoffing at me is slowly infuriating me.”

“You spent an hour, eighteen minutes, and thirty-eight seconds watching me sleep,” Reid shared as matter-of-factly, as if to say "You aren’t slick, Y/N, " which made you sputter in indignation. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if Reid would be considered by the Guinness World Records as the first omniscient person on earth with his brilliant mind. The man has an IQ of 187 for Pete’s sake!

“If that doesn’t tell you anything, then I don’t know what will,” he finished.

“First of all,” you started, “I did not watch you sleep.”

This made the man raise one brow at you. Liar.

“Second of all, if I did watch you sleep and you felt it,” you continued pointedly as if to tell Reid you weren’t watching him sleep. “Shouldn’t you have called me out on it? Why did you let me be then?” 

“I don’t know. Okay?”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” You pushed, crossing your arms.

“I woke up just a few minutes after I felt your stare,” Reid began rambling, “Did you know the reason why we feel someone is looking directly at us is that we have this system called the gaze detection system? I woke up a few minutes after I felt you staring.”

You smiled fondly at the man prattling facts from the back of his brain. This was your favorite version of Reid. The one who knows anything and everything under the sun and can probably talk about them if you asked him to. But right now, you have had enough of that. You won’t allow him to distract his adorable babbling from knowing why he let you stare at him.

Maybe he shares the same feelings with you.

“Reid,” you exhaled, “that still doesn’t explain why you let me watch you sleep.”

This made the man’s cheeks start dusting with pink. You were aware of the fact that it should have been the questioning done the other way around. You literally breached his privacy in his own home but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to know if he feels the same way as you. You wanted to know everything now rather than later. You know you’d probably get rejected but you wanted to get it over with.

“I wanted you to kiss me.”

This made you gasp, eyes widening—you think they were about to come out of their sockets. Reid blushed some more with your shocked expression. 

“I didn’t know what to do,” he continued explaining, “so I pretended to be asleep but I wanted you to kiss me. I thought that you would kiss me but you didn’t. So, I waited.” He looked down at his lap and bit his lip.

With your initial shock wearing off, you practically looked like a wild animal pouncing on the bed. Reid yelped at how quick you moved from where you originally stayed put. Without further ado, you reached for him. Thumbs caressing his rosy cheeks, you stared at his hazel irises.

“Are you sure about this?” You asked gently, wanting to be sure that he wants this just as much as you do. Before you could say anything else, Reid pressed his lips against yours.

As soon as you felt his lips against yours, your eyes closed. His lips were warm and soft—a little chapped but you didn’t mind. It feels perfect against yours. You didn’t want this to end but you want to see him—feel more of him. So, you did. You buried one of your hands in his curls as you caressed his chiseled jaw. Warmth blossomed in your chest as you realized you were kissing the guy you’d been pining for years and he is kissing you back.

You could taste your shared breath and feel the flutter of his long lashes against your cheeks. He tilted his head slightly in the opposite direction and nudged his nose against yours as your lips parted slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside.

You wanted to open your eyes. You wanted to see the faint constellations on his face, admire the slight scrunch of his brows when he’s focused—you had a feeling after this kiss is over, being with him won’t be as easy as it was before. You would be ruined knowing what it was like to kiss him. But you were so tired of longing for him. And his mouth was the softest mouth you have ever kissed. And nobody has ever kissed you like this before—loving and warm.

You didn’t stop kissing Reid until you felt like you were running out of air from running. So, you held his shoulders and distanced your face from his. He tried chasing your lips but you dodged him. Instead, you looked down at your lap. You felt your tears and willed them to not fall. Not here, not now, not in front of him. You wouldn’t want him to pity you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Reid placed his warm hand against yours, “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” His thumb caressed your hand soothingly.

“That’s the thing, Reid,” you explained, looking up at him right now as he flinched, noting the tears glistening in your eyes, “Nothing’s wrong. The kiss was perfect. You’re perfect.” You could see his shoulders sagging in relief after what you said. “And because of that, I can’t just pretend that what happened was normal because it isn’t. I know it won’t happen again so I can’t get used to it. And you know I’m not the type to kiss someone unless they mean that much to me.”

You were about to explain some more when you felt Reid pull you. You gulped when you felt the tickle of his breath in the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I really like you, Y/N. If it isn’t obvious,” Reid muttered shyly, “I’ve liked you for quite some time now.”

“Oh.”

If this was difficult for you, it was difficult for Reid as well—if not more—to be vulnerable about his feelings. You knew about how difficult it was for him growing up, being the only twelve-year-old prodigy in a public high school. He’s been through so much with his dad leaving and having to take care of his mom. He’s never had a proper experience with just about everything from making friends, being a normal kid, and in this case, harboring romantic feelings for someone—you.

So, you did what you thought could convey that the feeling was mutual. You gently wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his brown locks. He smelled of crisp pages of a book with a hint of pine. If you thought your favorite version of Reid was him rambling about facts and statistics, you’re probably going to give that version a run for his money. Because this version of Spencer Reid right here—the one who chose to be vulnerable, the one who chose to open up to you not knowing if the feeling was mutual—is probably your new favorite version of him.

“If it isn’t obvious to you, Dr. Reid,” you began, “I’ve liked you for quite some time now too.”

With that, you pulled him away from being tucked into your neck and kissed him again. You felt him grin widely, as you showered his pretty face with pecks, and you could not be happier. Before you could shower him with more kisses, Reid started spouting statistics about office romances.

“One in ten heterosexual couples in the United States meet at work.”

“Lucky for us,” you said as you tried to bury your nose in Reid’s neck, which made him giggle. "We are that one couple in the BAU. Now, shut up, so I can kiss you some more.”

This made Reid guffaw.

You couldn’t be happier waking up next to your coworker.

[echxverq]

emily: sharing a bed? weak.

emily: real women share a jail cell.