This Is Literal Perfection, What The Hell

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hi, first of all, I love your stories and am a fan of your work 💓 I have a request, in a case with the team, spencer meets a girl who understands his intelligence and talks about the same topics like: science and the reader feels jealous and insecure that she is not smart enough for him despite working at BAU.

insecure — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) contente warnings: established relationship, reader feels insecure / not smart enough and jealous , some tears, but otherwise it's just emotional fluff <3 a/n: hii !!! hope you like this :) also another john steinbeck mention sorry ( found this in my drafts whoops )

The words washed over you like static—scientific facts, literary references, inside jokes that might as well have been a foreign language.

You stood beside Spencer, arms crossed, staring blankly at the crime scene photos pinned to the board. The images should have held your focus, but they blurred at the edges, your mind too occupied with the conversation happening just inches away. 

Spencer and a woman from the field office, were exchanging rapid-fire dialogue about something you couldn’t follow.

A quip about quantum physics, maybe, or a pun so niche it sailed right over your head. Whatever it was, it made her laugh and Spencer chuckled in response, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way you loved. 

You knew Spencer loved you. He told you constantly—in cozy moments before bed, in rushed kisses on your temple between cases, in the way his fingers lingered whenever he handed you a coffee.

But right now, watching him so effortlessly connect with someone who spoke his language you felt like an outsider in your own relationship. 

You swallowed hard, forcing your attention back to the case files. 

Then, a gentle touch at the small of your back. 

Spencer’s hand was warm, his thumb brushing lightly over your spine before he pulled away to circle something on the map. “You okay?” he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear. 

You nodded, offering him a quick smile. “Yeah.” 

But the word felt hollow. You turned away before he could read the lie in your eyes, pretending to sift through the files at the end of the table. It was easier to focus on the paperwork than the quiet ache settling in your ribs. 

You managed to keep up the act until it was time to leave. 

Just as you reached the door, the woman called out to Spencer again, something about an obscure novel you’d never heard of. He responded without hesitation, and you bit your lip, staring at the floor as you waited.

A beat passed. Then another. 

Finally, Spencer’s footsteps followed, and before you could take another step, his fingers slid between yours, squeezing gently. 

“Hey,” he said softly, tugging you to a stop just outside the conference room. His brows knit together as he searched your face. “You’ve been quiet.” 

You shrugged, forcing another smile. “Just tired.” 

Spencer wasn’t fooled. He never was. But he let you be. 

He knew you—knew the way your fingers tapped restlessly against your thigh when you were upset, the way your gaze fixed on nothing when you were lost in thought. Right now, you were doing both, and though every instinct in him screamed to press, to fix, he held back. If you needed space, he’d give it to you. 

On the jet, he sat beside you, close enough that his knee brushed yours. Normally, you’d lean into him, your head finding its place against his shoulder, your fingers lacing through his without a second thought.

But today, you kept your distance, arms folded tight across your chest as you stared out the window.

Spencer set a coffee in front of you, just how you liked it. You didn’t grin at him like usual. Instead, you offered a faint, wary smile that didn’t reach your eyes before turning away again. 

His stomach twisted. 

Across the aisle, Emily glanced up from her file, her eyes flickering between the two of you. Spencer met her gaze. Then, Emily raised an eyebrow, tilting her head subtly toward the kitchenette. 

Spencer hesitated. His hand was still on your thigh, his thumb tracing absent circles over the fabric of your pants. He gave you one last gentle squeeze before standing, half-hoping you’d reach for him, pull him back. 

You didn’t even look up. 

Emily was already pouring coffee when he reached her, her expression unreadable. “What’s up?” Spencer asked, leaning against the counter. 

She didn’t answer right away, stirring sugar into her cup slowly. Then, without looking at him: “You chatted a lot with that woman.” 

Spencer blinked. “What woman?” 

Emily shot him a look. “The one you talked about all that nerdy science stuff with? At the precinct?” 

It took him a second—then it clicked. The local liaison, the one who’d laughed at his terrible pun. He hadn’t even registered the interaction beyond professional courtesy. But you had. 

His stomach dropped. “Oh,” he said, voice quiet. 

Emily studied him over the rim of her mug. “You really didn’t notice, did you?” 

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I was just—it was case-related. Mostly.” 

“Mostly,” Emily repeated, dry. 

“I wasn’t—” He cut himself off, frustration bubbling up. Not at her, not at you, but at himself. How had he missed it? How had he not seen the way you’d withdrawn, the way your smile had faltered? 

Emily sighed, setting her coffee down. “Reid, look. You’re brilliant, but sometimes you’re oblivious.” 

He swallowed hard, glancing back at you. You were still staring out the window, your reflection ghostly against the glass. His chest ached. 

Without another word, he pushed off the counter and crossed the cabin, sinking back into the seat beside you. This time, he didn’t hesitate—he reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours and squeezing tight. 

You turned to him, looking at him for a long moment, his warm hand still enveloping yours. Part of you wanted to pull away, to protect that bruised, vulnerable part of your heart that still stung from earlier. But you didn't.

Then you caught Emily's gaze from across the jet. She looked away quickly, but not before you saw the knowing glint in her eyes, the subtle satisfaction in the way she sipped her coffee.

Of course.

You turned back to the window, but you kept your fingers laced with his. The rest of the flight passed in quiet. Spencer didn't push. His shoulder was solid under your cheek when you finally gave in and leaned against him, his fingers never once loosening their grip on yours.

An hour later you reached his apartment. You kicked off your shoes by the door as you suppressed a yawn.

"Are you okay?" Spencer's voice was soft behind you.

You turned to face him, forcing a smile. "Yeah." 

He didn't look convinced. His brows knit together as he stepped closer, hands hovering like he wasn't sure if he should reach for you. "You've been quiet since—" 

"I'm fine, Spencer." The words came out sharper than you intended, and you watched as his face fell, just slightly. Guilt twisted in your gut. "Just tired." 

Spencer exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "You know you can talk to me, right? About anything." 

Of course you knew. But this—this insecurity, this childish fear that you weren't enough, not smart enough—it stuck in your throat, stubborn and suffocating. 

"Yeah, I know." Your smile felt thin as you turned to hang up your jacket, fingers fumbling slightly with the hanger.

When you turned around, he was right there - closer than you expected. His long fingers twitched at his sides like he wanted to reach for you but wasn't sure he should.

"Do you?" he asked softly, the words tentative, his head tilted in that way that meant he was analyzing every microexpression. 

You bit your lip, the familiar sting of tears threatening behind your eyes. Forcing yourself to meet his gaze, you raised your hands to his face, thumbs smoothing over the deep furrow between his brows.

"Yes," you murmured, "just not feeling too great today." 

Your hand drifted down to cup his cheek, thumb brushing the sharp plane of his cheekbone. You hoped he wouldn't notice the slight tremor in your fingers, but of course he did - Spencer noticed everything. His eyes darkened with concern, and he caught your wrist gently, turning his face into your palm to press a kiss there. 

"You've been quiet since the precinct," he observed, his voice carefully neutral. Too carefully. You recognized his profiling tone - the one he used when he was trying to understand without pushing. 

"I'm just tired," you lied again, pulling away to busy yourself with straightening the blanket on the couch.

Spencer followed, his socked feet silent on the hardwood.

"You know," he said slowly, "when I was eleven, I memorized The Grapes of Wrath because I thought it would make my mom happy." He paused, waiting until you turned to face him. "It didn't. Because what she really needed wasn't facts or figures. She just needed me to sit with her." 

Your breath caught. 

His hands found yours, long fingers threading between yours. "I don't need you to understand every reference or equation," he murmured, bringing your joined hands to his chest where you could feel his heartbeat. "I just need you here. With me." 

The dam broke. A tear slipped free, then another. Spencer made a soft, wounded sound and gathered you close, his chin resting atop your head as you buried your face in his sweater. 

"I felt so stupid," you admitted, the confession muffled against his chest where his heartbeat thrummed beneath your ear. The wool of his sweater scratched lightly at your cheek as you turned your face deeper into him, hiding from the vulnerability of your own words. "Watching you two talk like that. Listening to you talk about things I didn't understand." 

Spencer's hands - those elegant, restless hands that could calculate bullet trajectories in seconds but still fumbled with simple knots - slid up to cradle the back of your head with the most gentle touch possible.

His fingers tangled gently in your hair as he pulled back just enough to see your face, his thumbs brushing away the dampness on your cheeks you hadn't even realized was there. 

"I love you because you're you," he said, voice so tender it made your breath catch. His palm came to rest over your heart, warm even through the fabric of your shirt. "Because you see people—really see them—in a way I never could. You notice the way Garcia's smile doesn't reach her eyes on bad days before she even says a word. You're the one who always remembers to bring Morgan that terrible gas station coffee he likes after overnight surveillance." 

His fingers traced the line of your jaw with reverence, calloused fingertips catching slightly on your skin.

"You know exactly what books I want to read when I'm too overwhelmed to think straight," he continued. "And when I'm lost in my own head..." His hands cradling your face. "You're the only one who knows how to bring me back." 

He smiled softly at you.

"You're my home," he murmured, the words so simple yet so devastating in their truth. "All the equations in the world couldn't change that." 

A tear escaped despite your best efforts, tracing a hot path down your cheek. Spencer caught it with his thumb, his touch achingly gentle as he brushed it away.

"You're too sweet, Spence," you finally managed, the words coming out watery and broken between a sob and a laugh. Your fingers twisted in the fabric of his sweater.

Spencer huffed a quiet laugh, his nose brushing against yours. "Only for you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "Always only for you." 

Cuteee

꣑ৎ you’re not wearing your ring ꣑ৎ

summary: in which he sees you're not wearing your engagement/wedding ring and he totally handles it normally.

warnings: language!

drivers: 44, 4, 16, 1, 81, 55

note: idk why the quality of the pictures is fluctuating but alas, i tried my best LOL

disclaimer: i do not allow my work to be copied/translated/reposted in any capacity!

@justaf1girl @sltwins @c8lap1nto @copper-boom @nic0-hischier

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overheard — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: a girl flirts with spencer, leading him to tell her that he has a girlfriend, not realizing that garcia is right behind him. content warnings: secret relationship , they're at a bar , girl hitting on spencer a/n: hiii !! can u tell i love the secret relationship trope by now ? bc i do also theres a small tiny pride and prejudice reference if anyone catches it :')

“Do you want anything to drink?” Spencer asked, his voice gentle as his hand rested on your thigh beneath the table. His fingers squeezed slightly.

The two of you sat in a dimly lit booth at the bar, a casual night out with the team.

You turned your head slightly, considering. “I’ll take a soda,” you said with a soft smile. 

Spencer nodded, his thumb brushing over your thigh absentmindedly before he reluctantly pulled away, pushing himself up from the booth. You could see it—the slight hesitation.

The urge to press a kiss to your temple before he left was almost unbearable. It would be so easy—too easy—to forget where you were, who was around. But he caught himself just in time, swallowing down the impulse with a tight-lipped smile instead. 

Your eyes met his knowingly, before turning back to JJ and Garcia.

Spencer made his way to the bar, his hands flexing open and closed at his sides as if chasing the phantom sensation of your warmth. He exhaled slowly.

The bar was busy, and it took a moment to catch a bartender’s attention. As he waited, his gaze flickered to the side, and that’s when he noticed her—a woman nursing an almost-empty glass, her eyes fixed on him. 

Spencer tensed, his fingers tapping against the counter.He quickly averted his gaze, directing it back toward the bar, subtly shifting his weight in discomfort.

Finally, a bartender stepped in front of him. “What can I get you?” 

Spencer blinked, clearing his throat. “Uh—two sodas, please.” 

The bartender nodded. As Spencer waited, his eyes drifted back to you. You were giggling at something JJ had said, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and the sight sent a warmth through his chest. He smiled softly to himself before turning his attention back to the bartender—who was now deeply engaged in a conversation with another customer. 

Spencer exhaled slowly, realizing he might be stuck here for a while. His fingers tapped lightly against the counter.

That’s when someone suddenly slid into the empty barstool beside him. He turned his head slightly, only to see the woman from earlier—the one he had accidentally made eye contact with. 

“Hi,” she greeted, flashing him a wide smile. 

“Hi?” Spencer responded, his tone more questioning than anything else. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” she remarked, taking a slow sip from her drink, her gaze lingering on him through long lashes. 

Spencer hesitated, his brain momentarily scrambling for a polite but distant response. “Uh… yeah, I don’t come here often,” he finally said, shifting uncomfortably. He glanced at the bartender again, who was now fully engrossed in his conversation and seemingly in no rush to get him the sodas. 

“You should,” the woman said, her smile widening. 

Spencer swallowed, his shoulders tensing. Social cues weren’t exactly his strong suit, but even he could pick up on this one.

The way she leaned in slightly, the way her eyes remained locked on him—it was clear she wasn’t just making small talk. 

His fingers flexed at his side, an unconscious reaction to the absence of your touch. He didn’t like this. Because the only person he wanted to be sitting next to right now was still at the booth, completely unaware of this interaction. 

Her hand drifted closer to his on the counter, fingers brushing just barely against his own. Spencer immediately pulled his hand back, hoping she’d take the hint.

But she was too drunk to register it as rejection—if anything, she barely seemed to notice. 

He exhaled through his nose, his patience thinning. His eyes flicked back toward you, hoping—praying—you’d look over so he could silently plead for an out. But you were still deep in conversation, completely unaware of his growing discomfort. 

“What's your name?” the woman asked, her voice slightly slurred, her smile lazy as she leaned in a little closer. 

Spencer hesitated, tapping his fingers on the counter impatiently. “I, uh—I’m Spencer,” he mumbled, keeping his voice polite but distant.

He didn’t return the question. 

He wasn’t entirely sure how to extract himself from the conversation without causing a scene. Direct confrontation wasn’t really his style—he much preferred logical exits.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much logic in dealing with an overly persistent drunk woman at a bar. 

Thankfully, just then, the bartender finally stopped talking and turned toward him. Spencer wasted no time making himself known. 

“Hi, excuse me,” he said. His urgency must have been apparent because the bartender immediately nodded. 

“Right, sorry about that,” he said, quickly grabbing two sodas and setting them on the counter. 

“Thanks,” Spencer muttered, relieved. He grabbed the drinks, ready to make a quick escape, but just as he turned, he felt it—her hand wrapping lightly around his own. 

His entire body tensed. His eyes shot down to where her fingers clung to his, and then slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet hers. 

“You’re cute,” she giggled, her grip lingering. 

Spencer’s breath hitched in his throat, an overwhelming discomfort settling in his chest, as he removed his hand from her grip. He had officially had enough. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even think twice. 

“Look, I’m just here to grab two sodas for me and my girlfriend,” he blurted, shifting the drinks slightly to emphasize his point. 

Spencer always felt a warmth in his chest when he said that word—girlfriend. Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe it. But right now, that feeling didn’t even have a chance to settle, because the moment the words left his mouth, a loud, dramatic gasp sounded from behind him. 

His stomach dropped. 

No… No, no, no… 

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, as if that would somehow reverse time or make what just happened disappear. But deep down, he already knew. 

He turned around hesitantly, almost like he was afraid of what he’d see. And there she was. 

Penelope Garcia. 

Mouth open, eyes impossibly wide, practically vibrating with the weight of this newfound information. 

“Garcia, wait—no—” Spencer started, panic rising in his voice. 

But it was too late. She gasped again, spun on her heel, and bolted toward the table. 

Spencer stood frozen, still clutching the two sodas, staring after her in absolute horror. He didn’t even care that the woman at the bar had pouted and walked away—his attention was solely on the impending disaster. 

At the booth, you were mid-conversation when you suddenly heard someone shout your name. Startled, you turned, only to find Garcia standing in front of you, hands on her hips, eyes ablaze with betrayal. 

“How dare you?” she demanded. 

You blinked, glancing at JJ, who looked just as confused as you. “What—?” 

But you didn’t even get to finish the sentence. 

“How could you not tell me you are dating our boy genius?” she exclaimed, her voice full of dramatics, as if you had just personally wounded her. 

“What?” JJ blurted, her straw slipping from her lips and falling into her drink. 

“Sweetheart, repeat what you just said,” Derek said, grinning so wide, clearly enjoying every second of this. Rossi, sitting beside him, raised an intrigued eyebrow. 

And then, from behind Garcia, Spencer slowly came into view. 

He stopped a few feet away, standing awkwardly with the sodas still in his hands, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

You stared at him. 

He stared back. 

He was red. His ears, his cheeks—blushing terribly, looking like he wanted to disappear into the floor. 

“Oh. My. God,” Garcia whisper-yelled, her hands flying up to her mouth as realization fully settled in. “It’s true! Oh, my God! How long?” 

Derek was cackling. JJ still looked like she was buffering. Rossi sipped his drink, clearly entertained. 

Spencer let out a long, slow sigh.

“Well,” he muttered, avoiding everyone’s eyes, “so much for keeping it a secret.” 

Spencer carefully maneuvered around Garcia, who was still watching him like a hawk, her arms crossed as if she were about to interrogate him. He set the sodas down on the table before cautiously sliding into the booth next to you, his movements stiff with embarrassment. 

“What on earth did you say?” you hissed under your breath, leaning in slightly as the entire team erupted into overlapping chatter around you. 

“Nothing!” Spencer insisted, though his voice cracked slightly. He swallowed, shifting awkwardly. “I just… a girl was flirting with me, and I told her I already had a girlfriend. And, uh… Garcia overheard.” His voice got quieter toward the end. 

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a laugh, though the situation was anything but funny to Spencer. 

“I cannot believe this,” JJ muttered, shaking her head in amused disbelief. She swirled her drink in her hand, blinking between the two of you as if processing new information she should have known long ago. 

You shifted in your seat, feeling increasingly self-conscious under all their stares. Garcia was practically vibrating with energy as she whispered animatedly to Derek, who was grinning ear to ear, clearly loving every second of this. Rossi, meanwhile, simply stared blankly, his expression unreadable, and JJ—well, she was definitely staring, her slightly tipsy gaze moving between you and Spencer as if still coming to terms with reality. 

You turned to Spencer, who was fixated on the glass in front of him, his fingers toying with the condensation as he tried to pretend he wasn’t still very red. 

Sighing, you nudged him gently with your knee under the table. “You know… it’s fine,” you murmured. 

Spencer looked up at you, eyes cautious. 

“Not having to hide anymore,” you clarified, your lips twitching slightly. “It sounds nice.” 

Spencer blinked at you for a second before something in his shoulders loosened. His lips parted slightly, then curved into a small, shy smile. 

“It does,” he admitted, nodding slightly, his curls bouncing with the motion. 

Without really thinking, you reached out and lightly brushed your fingers through his hair, the soft curls slipping between them. “Now I can touch you,” you teased. 

Spencer’s smile widened, his blush deepening—but this time, there was something more relaxed about it. He wasn’t panicked anymore. 

The moment was sweet. Soft. 

And then— 

“Oh my god, they're touching!”

I love jealousy fics

pretty boy

summary - the team is out for drinks and people can’t stop hitting on your boyfriend

pairing - spencer reid x bau!gf

word count - +1k

“He’s so hot.”

“Ugh that hair!”

“He is so kissable.”

You had only been at the bar for an hour and you’d already hit your limit for the amount of women that have hit on your boyfriend.

The worst thing about it, is that Spencer is so oblivious to it that you feel silly for being even a little bit jealous.

You were currently at the bar ordering some drinks and were listening to a group of girls lust after your boyfriend, who was currently sitting with the rest of the team in a booth.

“I mean seriously… he looks like he’d know how to please a woman.” One of them said.

You gave the girls a brief look to make sure you weren’t making things up in your head and to your dismay they were all looking Spencer’s way. Curse him for sitting at the end of the booth.

You then looked back to Spencer who was listening intensely to something Rossi was saying.

He did look good. Like, really good.

He’d recently had a haircut that made him look that little bit older, whilst also keeping that youth. Hotch had told him he looked like he was part of a boy-band, which in a way he did. The hot one, if he was.

You loved his new hair. It was so fluffy and soft. Perfect to run your hands through.

It just irked you that other people were thinking the same thing. And so openly.

He was even extra handsome tonight with his work clothes on. It was hot so he had taken off his waistcoat, so it was just his shirt - which he had rolled the sleeves up on - his loose tie and his fitted trousers.

“I’m going to go talk to him.” One of them said, making you tense up.

You wished the bartender would hurry up so you could go back and sit next to Spencer already. You trust Spencer more than anything - but it was these girls you didn’t trust.

“Oh my God. Never mind. He’s coming over here. How’s my hair?”

You thanked the bartender as he placed the drinks on a circular tray in front of you.

The girls were all nervously excited next to you.

Until they weren’t.

Because you felt Spencer slide up behind you, resting one of his hands at the bottom of your spine and the other placed on the bar edge.

“You okay?” He asked, leaning down to kiss the top of your head as you swayed your body into his.

Spencer was standing perpendicular to you so it gave you the opportunity to rest the side of your head on his chest. It allowed you to just breathe him in as if it were just you and him in the room.

You nodded slowly, not really knowing how else to answer.

“Need help with these?” He asked, tapping the tray.

“Please.”

“M’kay. I’ll get these. You grab some straws.”

You were sad when his hand left your back to reach for the tray of drinks. You also really wanted to take Spencer away from these girls though.

Before you could both go back, one of the girls touched Spencer on his forearm and questioned him.

“Excuse me, are you two together?” She asked, only looking at Spencer for the answer. It was almost as if you were invisible.

“Uh, yeah. We are.” Spencer gave a polite smile.

“Oh.” She said, surprised.

Spencer didn’t respond and neither did you. He just smiled before nudging you to keep walking.

Once you were out of their earshot he asked, “That was weird right?”

“Yeah.” It was your turn to give him a small smile this time, keeping your head down as you returned to the booth.

<.><.><.>

The atmosphere had changed.

You had felt good at the start of the night - an hour ago - but now everything felt a little different.

It no doubt had everything to do with the girls that had been surprised that Spencer was dating you. Also it didn’t help that Spencer still looked great and was gaining more and more hungry eyes.

You sipped your drink even though you weren’t interested in having a good time any more. You wanted to be alert in case you needed to be for Spencer’s sake.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Spencer said.

He was still sat on the end of the booth, but he had one arm tucker over the back of the booth and down around your shoulder to keep you pressed close to him. For someone who was okay with not fully understanding social interactions, he had always done a perfect job of being with you.

The rest of the team were talking and laughing over drinks.

“It’s okay.” You shook your head.

“It’s not if it’s bothering you.” Spencer argued.

“It’s silly.”

You looked from the team to the rest of the bar where people were still looking Spencer’s way.

Damn, why did he have to be so attractive?

You weren’t sure how to approach the subject with Spencer though. He was too sweet to take his gaze off you for even a second to notice how many gazes were on him. It wasn’t even a him problem. Good for him for looking so pretty, but it was just difficult trying to be okay with the extra attention that him being pretty came with.

It sounded so stupid and it didn’t even make sense to you, so it was impossible trying to think of how to bring it up to Spencer.

“Is it the case?” Spencer asked.

You sighed, “No.”

“Did I do something? I feel like that’s quite likely.”

You shook your head, feeling yourself getting worked up about this.

Spencer’s arm pulled you further into his body and his other arm detached from his drink so he could rest his palm on your thigh.

“I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

“You’re not ruining my night. I just don’t like seeing you upset.”

“I know.”

“Well, you tell me when you want to leave and we’ll go okay?”

“Okay.”

<.><.><.>

Spencer was brushing his teeth when you blurted out those three words.

“Sorry if I was weird tonight.” You apologised, finishing off your nighttime routine in Spencer’s apartment.

He mumbled something along the lines of ‘it doesn’t matter’, but it was hard to tell when he had a mouth full of toothpaste.

Your chest heaved heavy breaths as you watched him with adoration.

He looked so soft and homely standing in his bathroom, brushing his teeth in his pyjamas with you. He was just so damn perfect and it was because of that that you had to tell him.

“It was your hair!” You blurted out before you could control yourself.

“Huh?” He questioned with a mouthful of toothpaste still. He took a brief glance to the mirror to check his hair before turning back to you.

“Your hair! I think it’s made you really hot. N-not that you weren’t hot before Spence but- oh my god, what am I saying?” You let out a shaky breath before continuing, “I was jealous okay? Really jealous because everyone at that bar was staring at you like they wanted you and I-I know you and me are— and you would never— and I — but I just…

Spencer spat out his toothpaste.

“Y/N…”

“I couldn’t stop thinking that like you’re mine and what right did they have to chat you up, let alone look at you that way? I mean—.”

“Babe…”

“I love you, okay?!” You proclaimed. You stood there in shock for a moment, not knowing where to take this now that you’d announced that.

“Y/N…”

“I do.” You nodded rapidly, “I do, I really do love you a-and I think it really hit me tonight when I saw you being loved on by all those other women.”

Spencer dropped his toothbrush and took a step towards you.

“All of that tonight was because you love me?” He questioned, trying to wrap his head around this.

“I think so, yeah.”

You pulled the sleeves of your jumper down over your hands as something to fidget with. You were growing nervous now for Spencer to say something.

“Well that makes sense.” He nodded, “I.. I think that means I love you too.”

“Really?” You asked, eyes wide as you watched him figure things out for himself.

“Yeah. I mean… I was frustrated as you sounded at all those men looking at you all night. It was driving me crazy.”

“People looking at me?” You frowned.

“You were the prettiest person in the room.”

“Spence…” You pouted, feeling your eyes tear with happy emotions.

You can’t believe that he had been feeling the exact same as you all this time. All it would have taken was a conversation earlier to talk things through and you both wouldn’t have been feeling so vulnerable.

“I love you, Y/N, even though I’m telling you in the most un-romantic setting.”

“You’re wrong. This is like the most romantic it could be for me.” You smiled and looped your arms around his neck. You felt his come around your waist.

“This?”

“Yeah. You, me and a little bit of toothpaste. That’s all I need to know that I love you.”

“And my hair.”

“Huh?”

“I distinctly remember you talking about how hot my hair was before…” He chuckled and you thumped your forehead down on his chest to escape the embarrassment.

“Stop.”

“No, never. Just like I’m never getting another haircut.”

You lifted your head at that, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him with heart eyes.

“I could live with that.” You smiled.

Spencer stayed looking at you for a few moments.

You could tell he was taking a minute to process everything as well as continue to study every little feature on your face. You prompted him to say something when he stared a little too long though.

“Just like seeing you smile. That’s all.” He said.

It was as simple as that.

You both loved each other. You both loved seeing each other smile. To keep that a forever kind of thing you would have to promise communication and accept there’ll be moments of jealousy. Those moments will be made better though when you remind each other that it’s each other you’re going home to.

I love him 🤍🤍

summary — spencer goes easy on you in a game of chess

pairings — s1!spence x shybaufem!reader

a/n — part 2 of this also requested so thank u! also when they talk they sound so nerdy so just smile and nod

The gentle hum of the jet engines had become a familiar soundtrack to these impromptu moments with Spencer. This time, the battlefield was a chessboard, the pieces miniature soldiers poised for strategic combat on the small pull-down table.

"Your move," Spencer said softly, his gaze steady across the board.

You considered your options, a nervous flutter in your stomach mixing with a spark of anticipation. He had a remarkable ability to make you feel both challenged and completely at ease, though the former often made your cheeks flush. You moved your knight, a calculated risk, your gaze flicking up to meet his shyly before quickly returning to the board.

Spencer’s eyes flickered over the board, a thoughtful pause before he responded. His move was swift and precise, countering your advance while subtly positioning his own pieces. You couldn’t help but notice that he seemed less intensely focused than usual. Almost indulgent.

"Interesting," you murmured, studying the new configuration. "Are you perhaps taking pity on my distinct lack of chess prowess, Dr. Reid?" The question was soft, laced with a hint of self-deprecation.

A faint smile touched the corners of his lips. "Pity? My analysis indicates that you possess a developing strategic mind. Though perhaps lacking in aggressive tendencies."

"Aggressive?" you echoed quietly, fiddling with the base of your queen. "I prefer a more cautious approach. Less confrontational."

He chuckled softly, a low rumble that made you jump slightly. "A pacifist on the chessboard. A novel approach." His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a hint of amusement in their depths. "Though sometimes, a well-timed offensive can be surprisingly effective."

"Perhaps," you conceded, a small, shy smile gracing your lips. "But I find a well-defended position rather comforting." You moved your rook, a safe, predictable move.

"Comforting, perhaps," Spencer replied, making his next move. "But comfort rarely leads to victory."

"Maybe not victory in the traditional sense," you countered softly, your gaze lingering on his thoughtful expression. "But perhaps a quiet draw has its own merits."

"A draw," Spencer echoed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "An interesting proposition. Though I confess, I find the pursuit of a decisive outcome rather compelling."

"I can imagine you do," you murmured, your cheeks warming slightly. "You do seem to have a… decisive nature."

"I believe in efficiency," he corrected gently. "And in identifying the optimal solution."

"Even if the optimal solution involves letting me one across the board almost capture your knight?" you teased softly, your gaze finally meeting his with a touch more confidence.

A genuine smile now touched Spencer's lips. "Sometimes," he said, his voice softer than usual, "the optimal solution involves a more nuanced approach."

@sleepysongbirdsings @spencerreid66 @starrii-sturns @khxna @raysmayhem-72

Words can not describe how much I love this 💕

kisses will make it better

summary - you think you’ve made aaron upset so decide not to tell him when you’ve been in a car accident

pairing - aaron hotchner x gf!reader

word count - 3k

Today was shit.

Like really terrible.

It was one of those days where nothing had gone right and you felt like the universe was caving in on you. From missing a meeting due to traffic to getting harassed by your boss again, there was nothing that had technically gone right.

Which is why you were calling Aaron on your drive home, because you knew he would make it better.

It was dangerous to rely on someone to make you feel better, but he was your person and there was no one you would rather speak to than him.

“Hotchner.”

You smiled as he always answered the phone the same way.

He said that people wasted time by looking at the caller ID rather than just answering the phone, so you were used to him never answering the phone any other way.

“Hi love.”

“Y/N?” He questioned and you had to chuckle.

“Who else would be calling you ‘love’?” You laughed.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Um,” You looked at the clock on your car dashboard, “Nearly 11PM.”

“Yeah, it is. Look, you know we’ve got a really busy case right now?” He sounded pissed off and it made your heart drop.

“Yeah, I just thought…” You gulped to swallow back the oncoming threat of tears.

You didn’t want to cry over something so trivial as making your boyfriend upset, but when you had had a day as bad as yours anything was a possible trigger. Especially when Aaron was supposed to be the person to listen and comfort you.

“So I need to sleep and I need this phone line to be open for the police detectives.”

You could hear what he wasn’t saying; ‘Don’t call me’.

“Okay.”

“Alright, bye.” And he hung up.

It felt kind of pathetic to cry, but the tears kept falling.

You sniffled as you let out a few shaky breaths. Your eyes tried concentrating on the roads but your tears were sort of blinding your sight.

Your bad day had just gotten even worse.

The one person you knew would have cheered you up had to go and let you down. It wasn’t really his fault. He did have a really big case at the moment that was really stressful, so any sleep he could get was important, but it would’ve been nice to just speak to him for a few minutes.

You pulled down the sleeve of your jumper over your hand so you could wipe away the tears from your eyes.

You were thankful to be stopped at a red light.

Leaning over into your glove compartment you picked out a packet of tissues and took one out so you could blow your nose. Crying always led to a runny nose.

Maybe you’d done something really terrible and that was why the world was taking it out on you. But what had you done?

Except for this morning, you were always on time for work. You put up with endless sexist and gross comments from your boss. You worked really long nights and early mornings just to get the work done. Working as an assistant for a CEO wasn’t as glamorous as it sounded, but it paid the bills.

So why did you deserve to have such a shit day?

That’s what you were hoping Aaron could have answered.

Now you had only gone and upset him too.

The light turned green and you gripped onto the tissue as you took a hold of the steering wheel to turn left.

There were bright lights.

A car horn sounded.

Your feet slammed hard on the breaks.

There was an almighty crash.

And then it all went black.

<.><.><.>

“Miss. Miss, can you hear me?”

Your head felt so heavy and your chest felt tight.

Your eyes were slow to open, but when they finally did they felt so heavy - as if they were being weighed down.

Then you noticed the blue and red flashing lights against the pitch black of night and the paramedic that was leaning into your car to talk to you.

She had a stethoscope pressed against your chest and kept calling out to you for a response.

Slowly it was all coming back to you.

“Miss, answer if you can hear me.”

You nodded your head slowly.

“Okay good.” She said, “You were in a car accident. Do you remember what happened?”

Instead of responding you let the tears fall. Now you were coming back around and things were coming into focus you started to feel how much pain you were in. The seat belt must have stopped you from flying through the front window, but it had definitely bruised your entire chest and rib area in the process. That’s why it was probably painful to breathe.

The lady ducked back out of the car then.

“She’s pretty shaken.”

“We need to get her to a hospital. She could have internal bleeding.”

“Okay let’s cut her out and slowly transport her to an ambulance.”

“Have you asked who we should call?”

Their voices were all a blur as your eyes grew heavier again. The tears in your eyes were making your focus blurry again. It hurt to even cry.

Aaron was going to be so mad.

He was on such a busy case and the last thing he needed was to hear his girlfriend had been in a car accident - a bad one at that. You promised yourself then that you would tell the emergency response people that you didn’t have any emergency contacts. You didn’t need Aaron coming down here.

Not that you didn’t want him, because God you did, but more that you didn’t want to add any extra stress for him.

He had a hard enough job as it was without looking after you too.

He needed his rest, so you would do this alone.

<.><.><.>

Garcia was hurried as she approached Hotch’s office.

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?” Morgan asked from his desk as he watched his friend rush past.

“It’s Y/N.” She said and that’s when Morgan noticed the tears in her eyes.

Morgan shot up from his desk, as did Emily and Reid who had overheard the conversation. They didn’t ask questions, but did follow Garcia to Hotch’s office to listen in. It was clearly serious if Garcia was upset.

Garcia didn’t even knock before entering.

Hotch looked up from his desk, clearly unimpressed with the lack of knocking until he saw the looks on his team’s faces - especially Garcia’s.

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asked, clicking the lid on his pen.

“Sir, you know how you asked me to set up that system where if any immediate family relatives of ours were admitted to hospital then they’d flag on my system so we’d know?” She asked.

Hotch stood up immediately.

“Is Jack okay?” His heart sank.

“Yes, Sir, he is.” Garcia looked distressed still, “But Y/N was in a major car accident last night. Drunk driver hit her side of the car. Caused her car to be sent spinning across the road where it was then hit at the rear by a lorry.”

Hotch went pale. He felt like his heart had stopped beating.

“When?” Hotch picked up his phone.

No new messages.

Why had no one contacted him about this?

He was your emergency contact. He should have been notified about this.

“Accident happened last night at about 11:15. I only got the notification when I came in this morning, Sir.”

“She’s been in the hospital since 11:15 last night?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Where is she now?”

“I had a look and… seems like she’s been in surgery for most of the night.”

Hotch had heard enough. He was ready to go now.

“Prentiss and Morgan. Go to the police station and find out what you can about the accident. I want that drunk driver ID’d.” Hotch ordered and they both left the room immediately.

“Call us if anything changes, Hotch.” Morgan added and Hotch nodded.

Reid…” Hotch said.

“I’m coming to the hospital with you.” Reid said for his boss.

“I need you here to work the case with Dave.”

“Hotch, this will probably be the only time I say this… but no. I’m coming with you and no doubt Rossi will too. Y/N is our friend too.” Reid argued back and Hotch didn’t have to say anything else for everyone to know that he was grateful for it.

Hotch needed the support and he knew you would need it to.

Screw this case.

Family was more important.

“Garcia…”

“I have my computers scanning security footage as we speak, Sir.”

“Good.”

“Go get our girl, Sir.” Garcia said and Hotch wasted no more time before exiting his office.

<.><.><.>

“You can’t blame yourself, Aaron.” Dave said as he drove the car to the hospital.

Aaron had wanted to drive but Dave had disagreed. It would’ve been dangerous for him to drive at a time like this.

“I spoke to her 15 minutes before the accident, Dave.” Aaron said, his composure slowly breaking.

Dave didn’t add anything to the conversation because he knew this was Aaron’s way of opening up as to why he felt so guilty.

“I told her not to call because my phone needed to be open for the police detectives to call me.”

“You were sleep deprived Aaron.” Dave argued.

“That’s not an excuse.”

“Maybe not, but it was the truth.”

Aaron kept his gaze on the road in front of them.

This car journey had felt like the longest twenty minutes of his life. Then he thought about how long you must have been alone in your crumpled car until someone arrived - how long that must have felt. How scary that must have been.

“I can’t lose her too.” Aaron said.

“You won’t. She’s got a strength in her that not everyone does.”

Aaron wanted to smile at that because he knew it was true, but it was hard to smile when he didn’t have a clue what state he was about to find you in.

<.><.><.>

Aaron stormed into the ER.

He did a quick sweep of the room and walked to the front desk. His hands gripped the front desk like it was the only thing keeping him standing up.

“Y/N L/N.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” The nurse questioned.

“I’m here to see Y/N L/N. She was brought in late last night from a car accident.” Hotch explained.

“Let me see.” The nurse typed away on her computer.

Rossi and Reid came up behind Aaron as they also waited to hear what the nurse had to say.

Aaron’s team was like a family to him, which meant they were also a family to you. The team had taken a liking to you ever since they had seen how much you had positively impacted Aaron’s life. They had never seen him smile so much as when he was around you. You brought out the best in him and the thought of losing you meant losing their boss too.

“Are you Aaron Hotchner, Sir?” The nurse questioned.

“Yes.”

The nurse smiled sympathetically, “Miss L/N specifically told the doctors last night that we weren’t to contact you.”

“W-what?” Aaron furrowed his brows in confusion. “I’m her emergency contact.”

“We’re aware, Mr Hotchner.”

“S-so what?” Aaron tried to calm himself down because he knew it wasn’t the nurses fault, “That’s it?...”

“Miss L/N told us not to contact you, Mr Hotchner, so we didn’t. However, now you are here I don’t see any reason to hold you back any further. Just sign this ‘sign in’ sheet, please.”

“Thank you.” Aaron said honestly, feeling both a wave of relief and anxiety.

Why had you told them not to call him?

Well, he knew why…

It was starting to feel like this was his fault. Doubts creeping into his mind as to whether he was the right person for you. It felt like no matter what he did, no matter how happy he became, he would always be tested in some way.

<.><.><.>

Reid and Rossi had gone to buy you flowers, leaving Aaron in the room alone with you.

It had been a shock to see you at first.

He hadn’t really prepared himself for how you might look, but he definitely hadn’t expected this.

You were bandaged like a mummy. Your head had a thick bandage wrapped around. Your hands were littered with plasters and gauze from where tiny bits of shattered glass had cut into your skin. He couldn’t see your chest but he had no doubts that the entire area would be black and bruised.

It made Aaron feel sick seeing you like this.

<.><.><.>

When you finally came around you felt lighter than you had before.

There was no seat belt cutting into your skin and you could breathe a little easier too. The bed you were laid in was really comfortable and someone had clearly dimmed the lights in preparation for you waking up.

Your eyes opened to find yourself in a hospital room.

The small window to the right told you it was a new day because it had been nighttime the last time you had seen the sky. Whether it was the next day or a couple of days was difficult to guess.

You looked down from the window to the small table.

There were six bunches of flowers of all different varieties. All of them had cards underneath them and you were eager to know who they were from.

The one that had a mathematical joke on had to be from Reid. The one that was covered in pink glitter was definitely from Garcia. The one that was clearly handmade had to be the work of Jack Hotchner. That one made you smile.

Your eyes went to the other side of the room where there was a chair facing your bed.

It was empty.

You knew who had been there, though, thanks to the blazer and red tie draped over the back of it.

Just as you started thinking about Aaron, you could hear your two favourite boys approaching.

“But I want to give the giraffe to her now, dad.”

“Ssh, ssh. We have to be quiet now bud, okay? Y/Ns sleeping.”

“But she’s been sleeping all day.”

“That’s because she’s poorly.”

“Oh, okay.”

Aaron and Jack entered the room a moment later, leaving the door open.

“Y/N!” Jack screamed in excitement when he saw that you were awake. He shuffled himself out of his dad’s hold until he was on the floor and running over to your bedside.

Aaron was ready to tell Jack off until he saw that you were in fact awake.

“Jack, careful.” Aaron said when his son started climbing on the bed.

“He’s okay.” You assured them both.

“Dad said you’re poorly.” Jack said.

“I guess I am.” You smiled at him.

“Does this hurt?” He pointed to the bandage on your forehead.

“A little.”

“Dad can kiss it better.” Jack explained like he was the certified doctor working in this hospital. It made you and Aaron laugh, which was probably the best form of medicine anyways. “Won’t you dad?”

Instead of giving a yes or a no response, Aaron came over to you and placed a kiss on top of the bandage. You couldn’t feel his lips, but his presence was enough to make you a little bit emotional.

He smelt like home and his closeness was so warm that you felt comforted.

Aaron kept his face close to yours as pulled away. He looked at you and noticed your teary eyes. His thumb reached your cheek to softly pad over the skin there - no doubt to check that you were really here and okay.

“Hey Jack, why don’t we go and get a chocolate bar for Y/N, hmm?” You heard Rossi’s voice behind Aaron.

Neither you or Aaron made a move from each other to check. Rossi must have taken Jack from the room because it went so quiet then.

Aaron kept his gaze on your eyes and you could see the sadness lost within them.

You hated to see him so sad. It was your weakness.

“I’m…”

“If you say you’re sorry I’m going to be really upset.” Aaron said quickly to cut you off.

You nodded, crying a bit more now.

“Thank you for coming.” You said instead.

“Don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. I’ll always be here.” Aaron moved to perch on the bed beside you, careful not to bump into any sore part of you.

“How did you even know?”

“Garcia.”

“Of course” You smiled. Aaron smiled because you smiled.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for being an asshole last night.”

“Aaron, love, I can see that you’re beating yourself up over this but it wasn’t your fault. Yes, you were kind of an asshole. I did need you last night, but you definitely didn’t cause this and I know you know that.”

“You’re too lovely.” He responded.

“I just won’t have you blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

Aaron nodded, “I’ll never not answer the phone again.”

“Okay.”

“But you have to promise to never block me as an emergency contact again. You hear me?” He said sternly.

“I do. It was kind of stupid of me.” You rolled your eyes thinking back now.

“Yeah it was.” Aaron gave you a small smirk, glad to hear you were okay enough to make a joke or two.

“I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“Honey. I’m going to worry whether or not you are actually okay.”

“When I told the nurse to not call you she asked whether you were a crazy ex of mine.” You chuckled.

“You’re an absolute menace.”

“A menace that’s going to need lots of kisses to nurse me back to health.”

“Oh yeah?”

“That’s what Dr Jack said.” You shrugged.

“I better get started then.”

I NEED more derek fanfics

Derek Morgan x Female!Reader

maybe something where reader goes into labor while Derek is away on a case or reader surprises Derek with a visit to the office and brings their new born along with her ( kinds how Haley did with Jack in the earlier seasons )

AHHHH!! love this one, thank you very much for the request. Actually thinking of combining both of these into a two part imagine?? For now though, enjoy panicked Derek <3

𝙪𝙣𝙥𝙡𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙙.𝙢 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: Despite his desperate attempts to be by your side 24/7, Derek is convinced the universe is out to get him during the final days of your pregnancy

Themes/Warnings: pregnant!reader, fiance!derek, general themes of the show e.g unsubs, graphic cases (not in depth detail) fem!reader, fluff fluff Fluff!!! angst if you squint...

"Don't-"

"Derek please."

"Sit! Ah ah, stay... good girl, you get a treat."

A quick sloppy kiss is planted on your left cheek while Derek holds you down by the shoulders, trapping you in place in the nest of pillows and blankets he created to accomodate your swollen stomach and achy back. Your fiance stands behind you, knees kneeling on the arm rest, while he massages the knot growing at the base of your neck, while you lightly scoff.

"Speak to me like that again and I will knife you."

"Easy Mama, you shouldn't model such a hostile attitude for the little man!"

Reaching up behind you, you grasp at his neck gently, bringing him back down to your level for a kiss. The kiss goodbye which you had previously attempted to get up and give him, before he left for God knows how long.

A cheeky grin grew on his lips as you moved to his ear with a whisper;

"She, will be the most well-mannered child ever born, taking after her mother..."

"Bet?"

"Shut up," another kiss lands on his lips, "Hotch is waiting."

Derek lets a low groan, one saturated in frustration, slowly spill into your shared kisses. Eyebrows furrowed together, accompanied by a small frown, he allows his head to lull to one side, rubbing the pad of his thumb tenderly along your jawline.

"Don't dare move from this couch, Sweetheart. Not without Garcia or your mother here to help you out."

"Der-"

"Humour me gorgeous?"

A final kiss, and a huff;

"Fine."

You can't find it in yourself to feel any sort of remorse for agreeing to his terms as his blinding toothy grin leaves a fuzzy warmth budding in the pit of your stomach. What harm will a few days on the sofa do you anyhow?

Hotch was growing impatient, although, trying his best to remain understanding. He knew how hard it was, how the guilt of leaving your pregnant partner at home eats you alive. However, these were the demands of the job. One last nagging phone call from Hotch, and Derek was half way out the door, reminding you of the meals in the fridge (kindly prepared that morning by Penelope) and of the vitamin supplements you have to take before you go to bed.

With a swift, yet endearing exchange of I love you's, Derek was finally on his way to Florida. He knew it was silly, hating an arsonist more for taking him away from his growing family, than the actual crimes committed. Yet, these were the demands of matrimony and fatherhood.

--

Three days of couch-rotting down, and you were verging on insanity. Every slight movement left a series of uncomfortable spasms in your joints, the braxon hicks were something serious, and you constantly felt as though you had a gaping hole in your stomach, almost as if you were riding a never ending rollercoaster. Baby Morgan needed to make an appearence soon, or she would have to be evicted.

With twenty minutes left on the clock before your mother was scheduled to come and help you to the bath, you awoke from your half-sleep with a start. Why were your sweatpants sticking to your thighs?

Yes, Derek forbid you from moving unless absolutely necessary, however, peeing yourself was definitely classed as an emergancy. Except, you hadn't. There, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, sat a weird bloody substance on the line of your underwear.

Fuck. Me.

Immediately you called your fiance. Should you be calling him first? What's he going to do from Florida? This was a bad idea, he's busy after all... But, before your anxiety could hang up the phone, the one voice you so desperately needed sang down the line like a prayer.

"Hey gorgeous girl, how's my little famil-"

"Baby! Now- baby is- Help."

"What?! Sweetheart hold on, are you sure?"

"Honey, my mucus plug is very much unplugged and my abdomen is being ripped apart."

A sharp wail escaped you as a dull ache made itself known in the pits of your cervix, and then the anger came.

"Derek. I need you. Now."

"Everything is going to be just fine sweetheart, let me call-"

"No! Don't leave me, please don't leave me."

"Okay angel, I'm right here." His assurance soothed you for the time being, both of you awaiting your mother's arrival. And it was safe to say, Derek was sick to his stomach.

--

Every damn day. Every day he tried his hardest to be there, especially nearing the end of your third trimester. His biggest fear was accidentally leaving you alone when that one awaited moment came; and his greatest nightmare had just come true.

"I should've been there Reid!"

Spencer nodded, sympathetically, "You couldn't have predicted this."

"Well, I should've. Fuck. It's just exactly what I should've predicted" He felt as though he could cry, and stifling a sniffle he continued, "Of course the second I leave that's when the little guy decides to make an appearance."

"Murphy's law! Essentially everything that could go wrong will go wrong. Named after Edward A. Murphy Jr, for centuries this belief has plagued several societies-"

"Spence." JJ shook her head gently, nudging it towards Derek's defeated countenance.

Grimacing, Spencer blushed and tried again, "Morgan, honestly you couldn't have done any more than you already have."

JJ then chimed in, "She's not holding this against you, shit happens, and you are getting ready to go home right now! I mean - you got the call a half hour ago, and already the jet's almost ready"

Opening his mouth the respond, Derek was cut off by Hotch swinging the precint's office door open, informing him that he could go home.

"Jesus, that fast?"

He was already rushing out of the room when he heard the discussion between JJ and Hotch,

"Special treatment for the family man."

Family man. He was a family man now. Non-commital SSA Derek Morgan had a bride-to-be waiting for him, and a baby on the way. And he could never be happier.

--

Within hours, Derek was bulldozing his way through the ward, stopping every nurse who was unfortunate enough to get in his way, to ask for your room. When he finally found you, he all but fell through the door with panic.

"Is everyone okay?" Kiss. "Hi baby!" Kiss. "Are you okay?! Is baby?"

The tenderness with which he held your face immediately soothed every anxiety within your body, even only momentarily. He was here, he made it. After an elongated silence, you shook yourself into action, reminding yourself that Derek was not a mind reader, despite what his job would lead you to believe.

"Everyone's okay honey, little rascal is still inside me," you replied softly, almost inaudibly, the fear felt previously when you had first called him suddenly returning, "You made it?"

His heart lurched and eyes softened at the vulnerability in your voice, and Derek finally took in the sheet white anxious expression settled on your face. Gently, he clasped his warm hand around your own, careful to avoid tugging at your drip, and dropped a sweet kiss to the cracks of your knuckles.

"I made it sweet girl." Another kiss, then travelling to your trembling lips, "I'll always make it doll. That, I can promise you forever."

Squish-y - LN

Request from @sunshineeyessss - please something with squish! I miss her, if it can be something angst like her getting really hurt or something in those lines

Word count: 1.1k

Clingy/physical touch-love language!reader

Author's note: I am not making a Squish series, this is a one time part 2. Please don't request more Squish after this guys.

Lando and y/n are rarely apart at this point in their relationship. But y/n had a bachelorette party to attend and to say she was having a good time would be an understatement.

Lando did get constant text, videos and even a couple short-lived phone calls from the night.

But the joy and excitement came to a pretty abrupt end when he got a phone call from another drunk attendee of the party and finding out that his girlfriend fell down not one but two flights of stairs.

Which is how he ended up rushing to the hospital.

"Squ-Y/n y/l/n?" Lando calls having to stop himself from using her nickname.

"It was mentioned you'd ask for Squish. We've been told." The nurse comments not seeming impressed by the nickname but he can't tell if she actively dislikes him or not. "She's room 2F. That way."

Lando moves to follow the directions and finds the young woman looking pretty beat up. Her exposed knees looking pretty beaten up. But the main concern is her cast bound arm in a sling.

She broke her forearm, her elbow and her collarbone all on the right side.

"Squish." Lando sighs placing the flowers he'd made sure to grab on the way there since he's not going to be caught slacking but in reality he knows his still very much drunk girlfriend is looking very emotional as her good but still bruised arm raises making it obvious she very much wants a hug. "Aww. My Squish."

"I was having such a good time then I need to the toilet and I fell." Y/n hiccups. "What stupid club has stairs down to the toilets anyway?"

"A very stupid one." Lando reaffirms as a nurse that thankfully looks a little happier to be there and happier to see him enters.

"Hi, you must be Lando. Y/n told us all about you while we got the cast on. We did need someone sober to discharge her so we knew she was going home safely. So once you sign and sort out all the paperwork, you're free to get her home. Just keep an eye on her. She did hit her head, not too hard but we always want to be cautious with that stuff."

"Yeah, I got her. Thank you." Lando nods with a smile as she hands him the clipboard with all the forms.

"Lando." Y/n mumbles making him move towards her and absently sit on her better side, not that she necessarily has a good side, just so she can touch him somehow. "I love you."

"I love you too, squish. I might need your help for some of these forms...I think I know most of it, but I just want to double check that I'm not putting anything in wrong." Lando mumbles focusing on the paperwork before he smiles at her and leans over for a kiss at the face she's just playing with the hem of his top.

"Ok."

-

"Alright, Squish. I am all yours for however long you want me." Lando sighs once he's got her set up in bed.

And immediately y/n just wants to cuddle. The woman isn't taking into account how awkward a cuddle is going to be and Lando has to figure out the best means of getting them into a position that won't disturb her collarbone which they actually have to go back to the hospital for in a week or so to check that it's not healing incorrectly, otherwise there might be a need for surgery since collarbones can be a little difficult to heal.

Eventually they settle on her lying with her back to his chest as she sits between his legs. Just as the safest position to make sure he's not unsettling any broken bones or making her uncomfortable but still giving her the comfort she wants from him.

"Squish, are you awake?" Lando asks noticing her body pressing down more heavily on him with him realising she's probably asleep.

She’s still on some pretty heavy pain medication since her whole body is pretty battered even if it was her arm and shoulder that took the brunt of her fall. So it’s not surprise she’s passed out. But the issue is, Lando now has to pee.

By some miracle he manoeuvres himself out from behind her and gets to the toilet but there's no surprise when he's halfway through his pee, y/n appears shuffling with a pout.

"I had to pee, squish. You were pressing on my bladder." Lando laughs as she comes up behind him him and hug him with her good arm as he smiles at her, resisting the usual urge to lean back on hr since he knows her other broken limb is very much pressed gently against him. "How are you feeling?"

"Achy."

He knew that would be that answer but he doesn't like it anymore now he's actually hearing it.

"We'll sleep and cuddle then you get you something to eat." Lando states after tucking himself back away and flushing the toilet before he moves to wash his hands while y/n follows like a little puppy. "Ok, squish. Back to bed for you."

-

Walking into the paddock for the next race. Y/n is very much latched onto Lando and his concern for her not gaining more injury means he's holding her just as tightly.

"There's Lando in the garage, and no surprise, he is walking in with Squish. I was talking to Lando early in the week, he was saying that she actually fell down two flights of stairs while at a bachelorette party. She must've landed entirely on her arm. She broke her arm, he elbow and her collarbone. I just hope all concern for her isn't distracting him from the race this weekend. I doubt it. Usually having her there with him seems to actually bring out the best of him." Martin states as the camera remains on the McLaren garage and they see Lando continue to talk to y/n as he also speaks to Jon.

Lando proves that y/n definitely isn't a distraction even with how injured she is because his weekend is mega and while y/n is thankfully not feeling the pain she'd been feeling initially and actually the gifts from fans and Lando making sure to spare any attention to her that he can.

"I'm really starting to hate this." Y/n comments while Lando gets ready for bed, having already helped her. "I can't cuddle you properly."

"Hey...come on now just think, squish, it means when you can cuddle me properly and you'll have a new appreciation for it." Lando smiles before he climbs into bed and pecks her lips. "I love you, squish."

"I love you too. I just hate 4-6 weeks healing time."

jealousy, jealousy / aaron hotchner

here’s my masterlist! pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader / shy!reader word count: 2.4k genre & cw: fluff, a little jealousy and pining angst if u squint, mentions of made-up case, different use of cm character a/n: thank u so much for all the support i've been getting on my fics!! hope you love this one as much as i do, i really enjoyed writing this one the most!

Today was a bad day. That much was clear. From the moment you woke up to the minute you arrived at the BAU– you’re convinced that the universe has simply gone the extra mile to make your life a little harder. 

You slept through your alarm and a few phone calls from Garcia, making your morning stressful and complete chaos. You didn’t have time to grab a cup of coffee or a snack, and apparently you also didn’t have time to remove the colorful pimple patches that adorned your face. 

Your blouse is buttoned asymmetrically, your hair resembling a bird's nest, and you left your ID at home, making your arrival more delayed as you had to employ Garcia’s help in presenting a copy of your ID to let you through. 

That too was not without stress given that your phone was on the verge of dying as you were in the call, but thankfully you could finally breathe in the elevator. Or so you thought. 

There were two things that immediately caught you off guard as you walked into the bullpen: one, almost all the desks were deserted and two, Reid and Morgan were watching you- as if waiting for your reaction, which led you to look around in anticipation. Is there a surprise? A prank? Did I miss a patch? I’m…wearing pants, right? 

Not wanting to prolong your search, you look at the two for any indication or clue. Tilting your head to the side as if to ask what? But to your surprise, they both nod their heads in one direction. Oh.

Strauss was in Hotch’s office, along with Rossi and a woman you don’t recognize. Hotch looked a bit tense, Strauss firm, Rossi is as relaxed as ever, and the woman… is looking directly at Hotch. Just Hotch. Huh. 

You were stood just shy of your desk when you shook thoughts out of your head, slowly approaching your desk to settle your things. Dozens of scenarios were running through your head, trying to make sense of new additions to an otherwise normal day. 

But the way she was studying him made your chest tight like someone was stepping on it.. and you couldn’t figure out why. 

You approach the two rascals only to lean on Derek’s desk as you whisper under your breath, “What’s happening there?” 

Morgan shrugs but his focused face remains, “I don’t know, kid. I tried Garcia but she doesn’t have a clue either.” Eyes studying the people in the room, noting anything that could tell them something. 

Mulling over more possibilities, you hum in response. Turning to Reid, you ask him- hoping that his eidetic memory can tell you anything about the woman even if they’d only met in passing. 

“Do you know anything, Spence?” But Reid only pouts at you, a sign that he’s thought about it hard but is coming up empty. 

Shaking his head, he soberly replies, “No..I don’t think so. I– I’ve never seen her before. Sorry.” 

Before any more thoughts could be voiced between the three of you, the door to Hotch’s office opens and all four of them file out- the woman walking a little too close to Hotch. 

-

You’re approaching your usual seat on the jet beside Morgan and across from Hotch when suddenly Agent Seaver overtakes you and sits on your seat. Caught by surprise, your eyes instinctively go to Hotch who’s already looking at you. 

He nods to himself, moving from the aisle seat to the one by the window. But it appears Agent Seaver misunderstood his gesture and moved beside him, “Oh! Thank you, sir.” Even going as far as touching his arm and leaning closely. 

Now, you’ve never been a violent person. Rage has just never overcome your senses like that but today.. of all days– you couldn’t help the image of spilling your hot chocolate all over her cream blouse. 

You don’t even notice that you’re frowning as you sit beside Morgan, somehow still unaware of how much their closeness really upsets you. You honestly thought you’ve maintained an expressionless face until Morgan looks up from his file and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You’ll need claws not paws, baby girl.” Winking at you as you separate. 

You steal a glance at Hotch only to see him watching you and Morgan with furrowed brows. He almost looks normal if it weren’t for the clenching of his jaw that’s his tell of irritation. Moving your gaze to Seaver, in case you missed something that’s causing his new mood, you find her reading the case file. 

As you return your gaze on Hotch, you watch as Seaver touches his arm again and engages him in conversation about the case. It’s through the whole jet ride that you had to stomach the constant Agent Hotchner, Agent Hotchner! paired with a giggle or a slight touch. UGH!

If it weren’t for Strauss personally recommending Agent Seaver as a consultant for this case, you would have done– …still absolutely nothing. You had no claim whatsoever over Hotch. Morgan and Rossi may tease the two of you occasionally, forcing that he treats you specially or whatever but his behavior could simply be chalked off as him being a good and attentive boss. 

And yes, okay fine. You may have some moments here and there… but! they could honestly just be built up in your head because of the feelings you have for him. Like when he said he likes it when you stare? Come on, being stared at can be flattering and that’s just a universal truth. 

- 

After a whole day of coming up with theories, visiting crime scenes and M.E.’s, you’re all completely spent. Lounging in the makeshift discussion room, all of you are still working tirelessly on the case given that the unsub’s on a spree and his timeline is alarmingly short. 

Reid’s been silently staring at the board for 20 minutes while Morgan’s pretending to read files of potential suspects with his legs stretched out and feet on the table, “This is impossible. We just don’t have enough.” He exclaims as he tosses the file on the table with a thud. 

To the left of Morgan, you’re also silently mulling over files of potential suspects. Not wanting to admit that he’s right, you guys don’t have enough…bodies. You barely have anything on the guy, barely any clues- for a working profile. 

You sigh heavily, peeling your eyes off the paper and looking at the board. “Reid?” The boy genius shakes his head softly, confirming that the known dump sites don’t say much about the unsub’s comfort zones or hunting ground. 

You suddenly wonder where Seaver, Hotch and Rossi are. You and Morgan got back to the precinct at around 11PM, and you realize you haven’t seen any of them, “Where are the others?” 

Morgan, in an effort to lighten the mood, jumps at the chance to tease you, “Hmm. I think what you’re really asking is: Where’s Hotch and is he with Seaver?” He punches your arm lightly, making it obvious he’s only teasing. 

The smug, playful smile on his face makes you fight one of your own, desperately trying to not give yourself away, “Shut up,” hitting him in the head softly with the file in your hand. 

While you two were exchanging playful glares, Reid interjects, “Seaver wanted to turn in early since she’s also the one meeting with the families tomorrow so Hotch brought her to the hotel.” 

You instantly lift your gaze to him and watch as he removes the marker’s cap and scribbles rapidly on the board, quickly adding “And I’m pretty sure Rossi’s getting us coffee from the diner around the block.” 

You want to blame it on your exhaustion– your inability and ineffectiveness at hiding how you truly feel about what Reid just revealed to you, groaning loudly in pain and frustration. You put your head in your hands, muffling the sounds you’re making that are somehow a combination of a laugh and a sob. 

Morgan understands your reaction immediately and laughs out loud. 

“It’s not funny!” There was honestly no point in hiding it. As much as Morgan teased you, you knew he wouldn’t tell anyway, and Reid.. well, he was honestly an even better keeper of secrets than Morgan, Rossi and Garcia. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, “Baby girl, worry not. You know you hold a special place in boss man’s heart.” Then gripping both your wrists to pry your hands off your face. 

Pressing your face even further into your hands, you let out a muffled version of “That’s not true!” that came out more as “Daffs noft thwu!” 

When Morgan successfully pries your hands off your face, you’re surprised to see Reid’s moved from the board to behind Morgan, half leaning half sitting on the table, curiously watching you. 

Morgan turns around to look at the door behind you, making sure the coast is clear before he says, “Kid. Be real with me for a sec… are you blind?” That was not the question you were expecting. 

You must have looked so lost because he continues, “Hotch cares for you. Deeply. And not in the same way he does for us. You’ve gotta have felt that, kid.” Funny, you are starting to feel like a kid– the only thing missing are his hands on your shoulders to complete that huddle pep talk experience. 

“That’s just not–” you try to start. But Reid swiftly raises his hand, signing you to stop–

“Did you know that every morning Hotch makes sure all the pens and mug handles on your desk are pointing to the right– the way you need it to be– in case the night janitors move any out of place?”

“Or that he never really ate lunch in the office before but started bringing sandwiches and other food he could microwave, while timing his lunches with yours presumably so he could strike up a conversation with you during break?” 

“Or do you remember that one time the AC in the bullpen broke and we were all sweating badly, and I said the heat was making me too thirsty then he disappeared into his office and came back with a bottle of water and an orange juice box only to give it to you?” 

Morgan lets out a loud laugh at that one while Reid pouts playfully, “I mean I was genuinely dying then.” 

Not without his own input, Morgan smiles softly at you with a raised brow “Did you know he personally restocks your favorite hot chocolate in the pantry and on the jet? Including the marshmallows.” 

You breathe in deeply, the revelations sounding too good to be true but winding nonetheless. You crack a small joke, trying to play it off “And I thought the bureau was just feeling really generous.” 

The two, who have grown to be such brothers, give you the exact same look of Really? 

As Reid rounds the table to go back and stand by the board, Morgan catches your attention and holds your eye, “Look, there’s so much more, kid. But they all point to the same thing.” He says this as softly as possible, as if to not scare you away. 

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. Shaking your head, “That just can’t be true.” 

With all three of your backs to the door, you don’t notice Rossi nearing. You just suddenly hear his voice from behind, rounding the table and settling the coffee cups in front of all of you, “Coffee, anyone?” 

As if trapped in the null of the previous conversation, you’re still looking at Morgan as you lean back in your chair, slumping further to seek non-existent cover. Reid, who is now back in his own world with the board, is handed a cup by Rossi, who didn’t even turn to look- only stretching out an arm to receive it and mumbling a distracted “Thanks.”  

Rossi, who is simply too smart for his own good, impressively senses something hanging in the air, nonchalantly asking about the tailend of a conversation he was not supposed to hear, “So… what can’t be true?” 

Back to lounging excessively on a chair that is a tad too tiny for him, with legs outstretched and feet on the corner on the table– Morgan spouts, “That she’s Hotch’s girl, and has no reason to be jealous of Seaver– who by the way needs the HR orientation more than Penelope and I.” 

-

Now– all of your backs are to the door except Rossi’s. Not one of you tried to move due to fatigue, let alone look.

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan, and Reid, on the way back to the precinct from the hotel, Hotch had the genius thought of picking up Rossi so the latter wouldn’t have to walk a block with trays of coffee on hand.

Hotch and Rossi arrived together. And as Rossi went around the table to give you your cups of coffee, Hotch stayed behind– leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed, watching you and the team.

Imagine his surprise, hearing what Morgan just said. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped. His entire being froze entirely.. What? Jealous? 

In his mind, he had two choices: Act like he didn’t hear it and save you from embarrassment or use it to his advantage and make his intentions clear..ish. 

-

You gasp loudly at his bluntness– and in front of Rossi! Straightening in your chair and pointing an accusatory finger at Morgan, “You little– I am NOT jealous! and I am NOT Hotch’s–” 

Cut off by someone loudly clearing their throat from behind all of you, you all freeze, including Reid who hasn’t been actively paying attention until now. 

The hair on your neck stands up as you hear the nearing footsteps, already envisioning digging your own grave in your head when finally, Hotch is standing right beside you. 

You’re all still pretty frozen, save from the slow movement which is your eyes slowly lifting its gaze to the man in question until they meet his hazel orbs. He holds your stare as he leans on the desk, arms straining in his shirt– 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Rossi fighting a smile, and just as you’re about to mentally curse him in your head, you’re broken out of your thoughts by a deep voice, 

“You don’t think you’re my girl?” 

This was sooo cute

theoretical knowledge vs. practical application ☆ spencer reid

summary: spencer studies intimacy like any other subject, but nothing prepares him for the reality of being with you. in your arms, he finally learns that some things can’t be understood- only experienced. pairing: inexperienced!spencer reid x reader warnings: fluff galore, lots of kissing (practically making out), intimacy, but no explicit sexual content! wc: 1.1k masterlist. a/n: this brilliant idea came from my very lovely moot @/jackiesistired over on twitter <33

Spencer had read five books about kissing.

Not just any books, no. They were scientific, psychology-based books that broke down the act of kissing into its most basic neurological, physiological, and psychological components. He’d also skipped numerous peer-reviewed journal articles, and, at some point, had managed to venture into less scientific territory- modern dating guides that made his skin crawl but ultimately did provide insight into what people expected in relationships.

And then, there was the… other research.

The kind that led to him sitting in front of his laptop at 3 a.m., his ears burning as he read about intimacy in ways he hadn’t yet experienced. He took notes. Intricate organized, handwritten notes in which he annotated his key findings, storing them away like highly classified information.

But all of it- all of the extensive research- meant absolutely nothing the moment your lips crashed against his.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

You and Spencer had been dating for a few months now, and while things had been progressing steadily, he hadn’t made any major moves beyond gentle, lingering kisses and hesitant, shaky touches. 

He was shy about it- not because he didn’t want you to know, but because he was terrified of messing up. He’d told you early on about his utter lack of experience, and you had reassured him earnestly that there was no pressure.

But he wanted more. He wanted to touch you the way you touched him. He wanted to kiss you until you were both breathless, and he wanted to see if reality could really live up to things he had spent so long reading about. He wanted to know if he was capable of making you feel good.

Most of all, he desperately wanted to stop overthinking.

Which is how he found himself here.

Spencer hadn’t realised just how sensitive he was until he was beneath your hands, beneath your lips, and was trying (and failing) to stay coherent.

You had started slow and gentle, kissing him with a sweet, lingering tenderness, but the moment he responded- the moment he made the quiet, needy sound in the back of his throat- you deepened it. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.

Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging softly, and the delicious whine that escaped him was so involuntary, so desperate, that you felt him tense in embarrassment.

You pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, “Don’t hold back.”

His breath hitched. His head spun as his grip on your waist tightened, unsure whether to pull you closer until there was no air between you or to push you away before he completely unraveled under your touch.

“I- I don’t-” He swallowed harshly as your lips gently brushed across his jaw. “I didn’t know I was this-”

“Sensitive?” you supplied graciously, dragging your lips down his neck.

Spencer shuddered. “Y-yeah,” he admitted, voice wrecked already.

You smiled against his soft skin. “I like it.”

He let out a ragged breath, his eyes fluttering shut as you pressed kisses down the column of his throat. “I- I think I do too.”

You laughed softly as you trailed lower, and Spencer actually whimpered.

You’d never heard a sound quite like that from him before- so high and desperate- a noise that he clearly hadn’t intended to make. His whole body twitched beneath your teasing touch, and he was gripping the couch cushions like they were his sole tether to reality. 

“Oh, God-” His voice cracked as your teeth grazed over his pulse point, his hips shifting instinctively beneath you.

He inhaled sharply as you went back up and pressed a kiss just beneath his jaw. Suddenly, his brain kicked into overdrive. "Did you know that the skin along the neck has an increased concentration of sensory receptors? It’s why-" His words cut off with a sharp inhale when your lips gently caressed the skin where his neck met his shoulder.

"Why what?" you teased, brushing your lips lightly over his neck.

"Why- it’s- um- " His breath hitched. "It’s a- an erogenous zone- highly sensitive- oh-" 

"You were saying?" you murmured, dragging your lips up the column of his throat.    

"I-" He tried again, but when you nipped lightly at his jaw, his thoughts crumbled.    

You pulled back to take in the sight of him. He was flushed, panting, his pupils blown wide with something akin to pleading.

“Spencer,” you murmured, running your fingers through his tousled curls, reveling in how he leaned into your touch like he was starving for it.

He looked up at you in a daze, his lips parted like he was trying to form words, but he failed to find them.

“I-” He swallowed hard. “I did research on this.”

You tilted your head slightly and bit your lip, amused. “Uh-huh?”

“Very extensive research,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “A lot of it.”

“And what did your research tell you?” You hummed softly as you trailed your fingers lightly down his chest.

He inhaled sharply as he tried not to react to your touch. “That, uh- physical contact increases oxytocin, which promotes bonding, and- oh-” His voice broke when you pressed a kiss just below his ear, his whole body trembling beneath yours.

You grinned. “Go on, Spencer.”

“I- I-” His fingers clenched at your hips as you shifted, his breath stuttering. “Oh, my God-”

You kissed him again, slow and deep, and he let out the softest moan against your lips, feeling utterly helpless.

His hands trembled where they held you, like he was overwhelmed and he didn’t know where to move them. Like he was afraid that if he moved too much, or breathed too much, he might just lose control completely.

“You are adorable,” you whispered against his lips, dragging your nails lightly down his back.

He exhaled shakily. "I- um- "

Your smile softened, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Let’s practice more.”

Spencer’s hands tightened on your waist, and for once, he didn’t overthink.

He just felt.

And it was so much better than anything he had ever read.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

Later, when you were curled up against him, fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest, he let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

You lifted your head. “What?”

He shook his head, cheeks still tinged pink. “I spent weeks preparing. Studying. Making sure I knew everything I could possibly know. And yet…” He looked down at you, still dazed. “Nothing I read could have prepared me for you.”

You smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to his jaw.

“That’s because,” you murmured, “some things you just have to experience.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, pulling you closer.

“Then I think I still have a lot to learn.”

You grinned, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Good thing I loved teaching you.”

And when you kissed him again, he decided that practical application was his new favorite subject.