Love, Love, Love 🤍

This is so cute, I love it

LOUD AND CLEAR | LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!deaf reader

summary: the 4 times that fans noticed the way lando was with you and the 1 time they finally realized why.

warnings: none i don't think

1.the garage whispers

fans noticed things, they always did, but sometimes their reasons were a little bit off, like with lando and his girlfriend.

you had been in the mclaren garage one day. while lando's world was loud, yours was quiet. you were completely deaf, you had cochlear implants but sometimes during race weekends they would get overwhelmed with the loud noise making it harder to process what was happening.

one thing that lando never failed to do though was lean closer for you to hear him. his head falling down so his lips were by your ear, making sure your implants could pick up what he was saying.

"you okay?" he asked you, his voice soft and gentle but still loud enough for your implants to pick up easily, his hand gently resting at the small of your back.

you nodded your head with a smile, "just loud" you say softly.

he nodded his head knowing you hated when he fussed over you and that if you got overwhelmed you'd either tell him or you would leave so he knew you were okay.

his hand came up to tap his heart 3 times, not exactly sign language but a sign that you both had started doing, the simple act saying "i love you."

you smiled and tapped your heart back before saying a small goodbye to him as he left to go get ready for qualifying.

the small whispers and acts didn't go unnoticed by fans though, their theories being far from the truth though.

user1: the way lando's so in love with her user2: watching them whisper to each other feels so intimate user3: WHAT DID HE SAY TO HER?

2.his little taps

lando didn't ever call for you, even when you could hear him. every time he wanted your attention he would simply tap you, a small shoulder tap, the squeeze of an arm, tap on the wrist, just something small.

one time that it was noticed by fans was when you were walking into the paddock together. lando had gotten stopped by some fans and as if on instinct his hand had come to tap your shoulder to get your attention

you turned to him with a small smile, watching as he didn't say anything simply gesturing to the group of fans letting you know he had stopped to sign some stuff, standing and waiting for him to finish with the fans before you guys continued. nothing had been said between the two of you, just silent communication which definitely caused an uproar between fans.

user1: why did bro tap her instead of calling for her user2: he's so in love he needs her to feel him before he speaks user3: they're actually so cute, the way he didn't have to say anything and she knew.

3.face offs

even when you were wearing your cochlears sometimes it was hard to hear so lando would always face you when he spoke so you could read his lips easier.

dinner? he was sat in front of you. talking with fans? he made sure you were stood in front of who was talking to you if you were with him. interviews? if you were watching he was always facing you in some way so you could see his lips.

fans picked up on the pattern easily. the way he always stood in front of you before he started speaking, or the way he'd turn your head, it confused them for sure not knowing the reasoning but they still speculated.

user1: lando being a soft boyfriend for the 200th time. user2: the way he always makes sure she can see him, i love them your honor :( user3: they're so in love it's sickening

4. the signs

it was a no brainer that lando would learn sign language when you guys started to date, despite being able to hear him with your implants he still wanted to learn so if you weren't wearing them he could communicate.

the moment the fans started noticing was during a podium. lando had just finished in P2 and while he was up there he had signed "i love you" to you. from there the fans had started noticing the smaller moments.

the small signs in the garage when he was talking to you, the random signs in interviews as if someone was watching that he wanted them to see.

a favorite clip would be during one of lando's twitch streams though. he was playing a game but suddenly had paused it turning to look in the doorway. you were off camera so they couldn't see you as you stood trying to get lando's attention without disturbing him.

what they did see though was the way lando turned to you and instead of saying anything he had signed with his hands, a silent conversation just for the two of you.

"sorry guys, just checking something," lando had said after turning back to the stream when you had left, leaving the fans confused.

user1: WAS HE SIGNING? user2: since when did lando know sign language? user3: was he signing to Y/N?

+1 the time where everything clicked.

you had been with lando in the paddock one day during a race weekend. at this point you were deaf to the world because the batteries for your implants had died. you were stood scourging for your spares in lando's bag when fans came up, getting lando's attention and trying to get yours.

they were confused when they called your name and you didn't answer until lando tapped you making your head look up from where it was buried searching in the bag on his back, a huge smile coming to your face when you notice the fans.

"hi!" you say as you come to stand at lando's side.

"she's deaf, she can read lips though so just make sure you're facing her when you speak," lando explained, signing with his hands.

the fans' mouths dropped, everything making so much more sense to them, the whispers, the small taps, the way he was always faced to you, the way he knew sign language.

while you talked with fans, taking a couple times to ask for repeats, lando was searching in his bag for your batteries, changing them out for you before a gentle hand came to your shoulder to not startle you as he put them on for you, the noise of the paddock filling your ears as they connected.

the both of you finished talking with the fans, taking a couple pictures with them before saying goodbye, knowing the announcement was about to break the internet.

user1: omg she's deaf it all makes so much more sense now. user2: STOP HE LEARNED SIGN LANGUAGE FOR HER user3: lando "i'd learn another language for her" norris user4: they are actually so cute

everything clicked for the fans after that day, and suddenly lando's love for you was so much bigger, because he didn't just love you, he understood you, and did everything he could do so you could understand him.

Perfection

SOME THINGS STAY.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤㅤ●ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ S. REID

SUMMARY ৎ୭ ever since spencer gave you that delicate little flower necklace, it’s barely left your neck. even when you're getting all dressed up for a fancy night out and it doesn't quite match, you’re not taking it off. it’s his gift—it’s special—and no way are you going anywhere without a piece of him close to your heart

WARNINGS ಇ. fluff— lots and lots of it, heart-eyes!spencer, emotional!spencer

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 930

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You’re standing in front of the full-length mirror, carefully adjusting the straps of your dress as your heels click softly on the hardwood floor. It’s elegant, timeless, the kind of dress that makes you feel like you’re starring in some classic black-and-white film—only with better lighting.

The zipper is just out of reach, and so, in a soft voice tinted with playful affection, you call out, “Spence, can you zip me up?”

From down the hall, you hear the soft rustle of fabric and the quick, familiar shuffle of socked feet on hardwood. Moments later, Spencer appears behind you, looking unfairly beautiful in his suit and slightly crooked tie, his hair falling a little messily over his forehead. He has his glasses on, which always makes your heart stutter for no good reason.

“I can do that,” he says gently, already stepping closer.

His fingers brush your back as he slowly pulls the zipper upward, the motion achingly careful—as though he’s handling fine lace or some kind of sacred treasure. Which, knowing him, you’re pretty sure he thinks you are.

Once the zipper’s secured, you expect him to pull away. But instead, his hands settle lightly on your waist, and his eyes catch on the chain around your neck. His brows knit together as he leans forward to inspect the pendant more closely.

“You’re wearing the necklace I gave you,” he says softly, a surprised note in his voice.

You glance down at it in the mirror. It’s a simple silver chain, holding a small glass orb with a tiny, pressed forget-me-not encased inside. The gift he gave you months ago—after one of those long, exhausting stretches where he was gone on a case for ten days straight. He had handed it to you, sheepishly, in the middle of your shared kitchen, mumbling something about permanence and flowers and how he hoped you’d like it.

“I am,” you say, your smile soft and content.

Spencer tilts his head. “But… it doesn’t quite go with the neckline. I mean, aesthetically speaking, it interrupts the visual line of the bodice, and—” He pauses, recognizing your expression of amusement in the mirror. “Sorry, I was rambling.”

You giggle under your breath. “A little.”

He clears his throat, his fingers gently brushing against the clasp at the back of your neck. “I could take it off for you. Just for tonight. I’ll put it somewhere safe, I promise.”

But you immediately shoo his hands away, your tone light but firm. “Nope.”

He blinks. “What do you mean ‘nope’?”

“I mean no.” You turn to face him now, reaching up to fix his slightly crooked tie. “You gave it to me. It’s yours. I’m not taking it off.”

Spencer stares at you, blinking slowly, like he’s trying to process the words but his brain short-circuited somewhere in the middle.

“I…” He exhales. “But it doesn’t match—”

“Still,” you interrupt gently, smoothing your hands over his lapels. “It’s my favorite thing. You picked it out. You remembered what flower I said I liked when we watched that documentary about botanical symbolism and how they used to mean secret messages.” Your eyes meet his, full of warmth. “It’s the most you thing I own. So yeah—obviously, I’m not taking it off. Ever.”

And that’s it. That’s the moment Spencer Reid absolutely melts into a puddle of goo on the bedroom floor. His eyes go glassy, his mouth opening just enough to say something—anything—but no words come out. Just a breath. A shaky, wonderstruck breath.

“You remembered I said that?” he murmurs, like he still can’t quite believe it.

“Of course I did. You’re you.”

He laughs, quiet and breathless, before pulling you into a gentle hug. His arms wrap around you tightly, almost like he’s afraid if he lets go, the moment might dissolve. “You’re unbelievable,” he whispers into your hair.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He chuckles, and you feel his lips press to the top of your head. “No. It’s the best thing.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Spencer walks into the bullpen looking like a man who just witnessed actual magic.

“Someone’s glowing,” Emily teases as he drops his bag by his desk. “Did the gala have an open bar or did your girlfriend finally admit she’s secretly a time traveler?”

“She wore the necklace I gave her,” Spencer says, completely unprompted. He’s not even looking at anyone. He just says it with this dazed little smile on his face.

“Oh?” JJ glances over. “The pressed flower one?”

“Yeah,” Spencer nods, adjusting his satchel strap unnecessarily. “It didn’t match her dress at all. Like, it was totally off. I offered to take it off for her, but she wouldn’t let me. She said…” He trails off for a moment, eyes unfocused, like he’s reliving it all over again. “She said it was my gift, so she’s never taking it off. Ever.”

There’s a collective pause around the bullpen.

And then—

“Awwwwwww!” comes in stereo from Garcia and JJ.

“God, that’s so disgustingly cute,” Emily says, sipping her coffee with a smirk. “How are you not married yet?”

“I love love,” Penelope declares, dramatically clutching her heart. “You’ve got the heart-eyes going so hard, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer just shrugs, a soft smile still pulling at his lips. “I guess I do.”

There’s a long pause. Then, almost absently, he adds: “I think I’m going to get her another one. One for every flower she’s ever told me about.”

And just like that, Emily squeals and Garcia nearly falls off her chair.

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

This is perfect 🤍

okay but when the team actually starts calling the reader and aaron mom and dad behind their backs and one day someone lets it slip out in front of them??

i just… aaron’s reaction?????

the parentals

i love this dynamic SO MUCH cw; fem!bau!reader, established relationship, fluff <3

as you and aaron entered the bullpen, you were both quick to notice the others huddled around spencer's desk, surely for a new session of physics magic.

a smile immediately twitched at aaron's lips, tossing you a mischievous look. as long as it didn't make a mess, or a disruption - per his and reid's previous discussions - he really didn't mind the recurring demonstrations.

but would he ever miss an opportunity to get the blood rushing in this scenario - never.

"be nice." you teased, laughing softly under your breath as you followed him over.

"i'm always nice." aaron playfully insisted, those brown eyes flickering in that way that just melted your heart. "what do you mean?"

"better be careful," emily's warning came into earshot as you neared, completely oblivious to the two of you - the timing just perfect. "or else dad's gonna ground you."

aaron's expression quirked at the title, his eyebrows lightly furrowing.

"oh please," spencer said, his fingers making quick work of whatever the experiment happened to be. "he's too busy with mom-"

jj's eyes happened to lift right at mom, made direct eye contact with you, and immediately choked back a laugh. some horror timidly filled her eyes, and she didn't cover up her sound too adequately. it caused the others to instantly look up too, and freeze.

"busted." jj mumbled, her gaze finding the ground.

aaron's smile resurfaced, crossing his arms. his tone was playful, yet confused and utterly amused nonetheless. "dad?"

spencer flushed. "uh..."

"oh c'mon. cut the crap." emily interrupted with an eye roll, looking between the two of you. "like it's not shocking at this point. just look at what the two of you were about to do, lecture us-"

"hey no," with a laugh you cut in, arching an eyebrow. "i don't lecture."

"exactly. he does," emily crossed her arms also with a smitten smirk - her point thoroughly exhibited. "you're the flexible one. see, mom and dad."

"i always thought rossi was dad." aaron expressed openly, a small chuckle shaking through his chest.

"no, you were always dad," jj shook her head, "rossi was mom, until," once again, her eyes found yours, smiling softly this time. "until someone else came around, and took on the role wholeheartedly."

you grinned, exchanging a quick, loving glance with aaron. "what's dave now, then?"

"old."

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

This was so fucking good

NOT LIKE A FRIEND

summary: y/n overhears something that sends her on a spiral and harry has no idea

7.6k words

warnings: friends to lovers, a smidge of angst. this was requested months ago but here she is! it might not be exactly what the request was asking for but… there’s angst so enjoy <3

(Y/N) wished she’d walked down the hallway ten seconds later. Maybe then she wouldn’t have heard what she did. 

All of the bridesmaids and groomsmen were at the fitting at the same time and before everyone went their separate ways to try on the dresses and suits to make sure everything fit just right, Harry had stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. 

“Let me see you when you’re dressed.” 

At that, she rolled her eyes but smiled and nodded. She wanted to see what Harry would look like in the suit he’d been asked to wear, so she didn’t mind too much. She had a flowy sage green dress that she couldn’t wait to slip into so after parting from him, she followed the other bridesmaids down the hall to where their dresses were being held. 

Their good friends Jesssica and Landon were getting married and they asked both (Y/N) and Harry to be in their wedding. It was an honor and (Y/N) was almost brought to tears when they asked her. 

It was the final fitting just before the wedding that would happen a month or so later. 

One of the other girls who (Y/N) is certain is Landon’s younger sister, helped her with the zipper on the back of her dress and she did the same for her before finding an empty mirror to look herself over in. 

Of course, she wasn’t quite done up yet because this was just a fitting but the dress was beautiful. It exposed her shoulders and fell all the way to her feet. The fabric was smooth and it clung to every curve of her body. She really couldn’t wait to show Harry. He’d love it. 

The dressing room for the guys was on the other half of the building, so it was a little ways down the hallway, but she didn’t mind the walk. 

Harry and (Y/N) had been best friends for just about ten years. She’s not sure when it happened but they just suddenly started incorporating each other into their daily lives and they realized that they really enjoyed the company. It’s strange when she thinks about it now because now there is no way that she’d let anyone know her the way Harry does. 

He always knows what she wants before she does. He calls her everyday, she’s sure of it. He sends her silly photos that remind him of her, he’s knocking on her door every Sunday morning to take her to breakfast. Wherever she goes, he does too. She’s never been closer to someone in her entire life and she loves the support he gives her for everything and anything. 

She stopped at the doorway before the guys’ dressing room, just about to announce her presence when she heard something. 

“I know your type, Harry, and she is not it.” 

“You don’t know shit,” She heard Harry laugh. “(Y/N)’s not my type at all, actually, thank god.” 

“She’s cute though, isn’t she?” 

“She’s like a sister to me, Matt, come on.” 

Her listening was interrupted by the other girls coming down the hallway to show off their dresses. She wasn’t sure why Harry’s words seemed to have hit her so deeply. Her stomach dropped when she heard what he said but she doesn’t quite understand it right now. If she was feeling a little less lightheaded, she might follow after the others and force a smile to get through the rest of the fitting but she doesn’t. Instead, she makes her way back to the room with her clothes and changes back into them. The dress fits nicely. That’s all she needed to know. 

“Did you even try your dress on?” She heard behind her. In the mirror, Harry is in the doorway, dressed in his suit. He looked like a dream, if she was being honest. The suit fit to his shoulders perfectly and tapered at the waist. Whoever took his measurements really wanted to do him justice. 

“Yeah,” She answered, trying to keep a casual expression as she zipped the dress back into a garment bag. “I just feel a little sick suddenly.” She shrugged, watching as his eyebrows drew together in concern. 

“Oh, no,” And then he was in her personal space, feeling her forehead with the back of his hand, searching her face over intently, like he’d be able to figure out what was wrong with her just by looking at her. “I can get changed and we can get you home. Give me five minutes.” 

He left the room and she sighed, finding a seat to sit down for a second. 

She’s not sure why it makes her stomach churn in such a way. To hear that. She’s not Harry’s type? Not that it matters much because she never ever thought about him that way. Maybe right before she falls asleep when she’s in between consciousness and not but it’s never gone so far that she’s felt awkwardness with him. It’s just little what ifs. But hearing him completely shut down even the suggestion of it, made her heart drop. 

Harry is probably as attractive as attractive gets. She can’t believe he gives her the time of day sometimes. And she’d never want anything to ruin the friendship they’d been nurturing for the past ten years, so lines were never blurred between them. Strictly friends. Best friends. 

He couldn’t even call her cute though. Or attractive. Or pretty when Matt asked him. He just said she’s like a sister. And that should be fine. (Y/N) isn’t sure why she’s feeling nauseated at the thought of it but it ruined her day. Flat out. She’d just decided that. 

The other girls came back, dressing into their clothes and chatting amongst themselves but (Y/N) felt frozen. She hates the way that got to her. It doesn’t matter. Harry doesn’t think she’s his type. He’s right. She’s seen his type too and (Y/N) checks none of the boxes. The way that he was so sure and so quick to answer is really what’s nagging on her. Like he’s thought about it before and already deemed (Y/N) not good enough for him. 

She said goodbye to the other girls before making her way to the front of the building with her dress. She’s not certain she’ll be able to stand the sight of Harry. Not today at least. She needs time to ruminate and figure her feelings out. Why does it feel so weird to hear what she already knew? 

Before she could reach the doors, Harry was behind her, holding it open for her and then following her out. 

“I think I'm just going to head home on my own. I don’t want to get in the way of your plans.” She spoke up, already swiping on her phone screen to call herself a ride. Harry picked her up earlier and they were meant to go to dinner after the fitting but she can’t even think about eating at the moment. She just needs to be alone. 

“My plans were with you, (Y/N). I can take you home and make you something there if you want.” He offered, his hand rubbing down her back in a comforting gesture. She stepped away from him so he could no longer touch her and tried to remain calm. 

“It’s okay, Harry. Seriously. I just need to sleep, I think. And that would be boring for you.” 

“Well, I need to sleep too, so let’s go.” He took her phone right from her hand and slipped it into his pocket with a smirk. 

Harry is stubborn and as soon as he doesn’t get what he wants, he’s an annoying little shit and somehow the cards are always already in his favor anyway. 

So, she followed him to his car and let him shut her inside. The drive wasn’t too long but he kept the car quiet, like he was waiting for her to speak up and tell him what was really wrong but she didn’t. She just kept her eyes out the window and tried to keep her mind off of what he said only just shy of twenty minutes ago. 

“I’m just going to run a bath and go to bed, Harry. I don’t need a babysitter.” 

He’d helped her inside and was set on making her dinner and spending the night but she wasn’t feeling like being in his company right now. For the first time ever. 

“But you don’t feel good, (Y/N), and someone should be here with you,” He kicked his shoes off by her door, telling her that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “I’ll run the bath. You get comfortable.” 

She huffed as he walked down the hall to her bathroom and flicked on the light. See what she means? Stubborn. 

That was a month ago. And she hadn’t been able to get it out of her head the entire time. When she first wakes up and when she’s about to go to sleep, she’s thinking about what he said. She’s always had a hard time with letting things go. Even the smallest things. So she knows that conversation will be with her for a long, long time. 

She’s probably seen Harry five times since then. And she is positive he knows that something is going on now. She tried to be normal around him but it was too hard. He’d wrap his arm around her shoulders when they were sitting with friends at the pub and she’d make an excuse to get up and from under his arm. But he noticed, he just hadn’t said anything yet. 

The wedding is three days away. Jessica and Landon wanted to be married on the beach or near it anyway, so everyone would have to drive about an hour to get to the coast. It wasn’t a big ask, (Y/N) wanted to visit the beach first thing when they got there because it had been a while since she’s been. 

The wedding party was arriving two days before the ceremony so they could all help get things in order before the big day. (Y/N) was meant to drive down with Harry and Jessica had put them in the same room in the hotel because neither of them minded at the time. They’d shared a bed more than a handful of times so it wouldn’t be anything unusual. But now that (Y/N) knew what she knew, she had secretly asked Jessica if she could book another room, under the guise that there had been an extra room and to not tell Harry a word of it. Jessica was a little puzzled but didn’t ask and agreed. 

She wanted to hitch a ride with someone else but she doesn't want to hurt his feelings. Even though he unknowingly obliterated hers. For a reason she’s still not sure of. 

So, Friday after work, Harry came to help her finish packing and then they’d set out for the hour drive. 

When her doorbell rang, she was filled with dread. For the first time since she’s known him. But still, she opened the door for him and accepted his tight hug that he always gave her when he saw her. 

“Almost ready to go?” He pulled back, squeezing her shoulders and smiling down at her. 

“Almost.” (Y/N) stepped back so his arms fell away and started back toward her bedroom. He followed of course, and sat on her bed as soon as it was in sight. She was done packing for the most part, she just had a few things to shove in her bag and then they’d be ready to go. 

“Hey, babe?” 

She hummed because her back was to him as she finished stuffing a smaller bag with her toiletry items. 

“Who exactly are these for?” 

She turned, seeing her skimpy pair of black panties wrapped around Harry’s finger. Gasping, she stomped toward him so she could snatch them away. 

“Stay out of my bag!” Her hands shook as she shoved them down further into her bag where he wouldn’t be able to see them or get a hold of them again. He only laughed, relaxing further into her bed. 

“It’s cool. Can show me what they look like when they’re on. I think I’d like that more.” His smirk lessened none when she shot him a mean look before turning back to her other bag. 

“In your dreams.” She muttered, zipping the bag shut and tossing it on the bed. 

“Every night.” 

(Y/N) ignores him when he makes comments like that. He’s just a guy and they’re only friends, so she takes none of it to heart. Especially now that she knows what he really thinks of her. 

Once everything she could possibly need is in the duffle, Harry offered to carry it out to the car for her. She lets him, only because it’s heavy and he wouldn’t let her lift a finger for it anyway. 

They get comfortable in the car for an hour-long drive as soon as her house is locked up and everything is situated in the car. He always let her pick the music and this time was no different than any other. She connected her phone to his car and shuffled one of their usual favorite playlists before leaning back into her seat and shutting her eyes. 

There’s no talking until they get about fifteen minutes from the hotel. They both prefer the quiet sometimes and are totally always okay to sit in silence, nothing but music playing, and just be. Especially after a day of work, it’s nice to just mindlessly watch the scenery go by and not worry about much. 

Jessica and Landon arrived at the hotel hours ago, so the plan was to meet them in the lobby so they could get their room key. Jessica and (Y/N) had already smoothed over the plans for going about the extra room. It would just be a happy coincidence that there was another room and (Y/N) didn’t mind taking it. That’s how easy it would be. 

Harry, holding both of their bags on his shoulders, texted Landon and both of them met them in the lobby. Jessica hugged (Y/N) tightly and thanked her, once again, for agreeing to come all the way there for her special day. 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Jess.” She parted from the hug and from the corner of her eye saw Landon hand the key card to Harry. 

“Oh, right! We have an extra room if one of you wants it. It’s paid for so use it if you need to.” Jessica passed the other key card to (Y/N) and she smiled in thanks at her, trying not to look so relieved. 

“We don’t need that, but thanks.” Harry went to grab it from (Y/N)’s hand and give it back but she pulled away. 

“It’s paid for. I’ll use it.” She forced a convincing smile at him before nodding at Jessica again. 

Landon and Jessica left the lobby to go to the beach right across the street, leaving (Y/N) to get in the elevator with a now grumpy looking Harry. She paid him no mind as she pushed their floor number and hummed to herself. That was seamless. She really will have to thank Jessica again. 

“You’re really going to take that room?” 

“Why not?” (Y/N) can tell from the tense way that his jaw is sitting that he’s not exactly happy with the arrangement but she doesn’t think too hard about it. “It’s not that big of a deal, Harry. We’ll be right next to each other anyway.” 

He only huffed in response, grumbling something under his breath as he followed her out of the elevator to her door. 

“What if someone else needs it?” 

“Jessica wouldn’t have offered it then,” She shot back, trying not to seem so defensive about it. “Plus, it’ll be nice to stretch out.” 

“You do that every night anyway.” 

“Most nights, yeah.” She clicked the card in and pushed the door so she could step inside. 

“What do you mean most nights? Who the fuck do you have in your bed then?” He kept his grip tight on her bag when she tried to take it from his shoulder to set it down. 

Her eyes widened at his tone of voice. She’s never seen Harry like this and she’s not sure what to call it. But instead of asking, she laughed at him. 

“Set my bag down and let’s go to the beach.” Gently rubbing her thumb over his wrist like she liked to do sometimes, he released her bag, his face falling neutral again. 

“You expect me to go in that other room?” He pointed. “Because I’m not. I’m right here with you, I don’t want my own room, I don’t want to stretch out, I want to be here.” 

(Y/N) is unsure why he’s so adamant about it. She really thought he wouldn’t care and this would be her chance to get even more distance between the two of them. But Harry is unwavering in his declaration to not leave her room, so she sighed. 

“Fine. I guess you can stay in my room.” 

“Funny.” He dropped his bag before sifting through it to find his swim shorts. 

It’s evening now and they probably would need to stop somewhere at some point to get something to eat but she guessed Harry wanted to go to the beach first. She changed too, in the bathroom, into the orange bathing suit that she knew Harry was a fan of. He said the color went well with her skin and maybe it did, but she didn’t put much thought into those words either. 

(Y/N) put an oversized tee shirt on before she left the bathroom. She wasn’t sure they were actually going to swim since it was getting late, so she wanted to have something to cover up with. 

Harry led her back down through the hotel and out the doors that allowed you to step right into the sand. His hand brushed hers, earning him a look. 

“You don’t want to hold my hand?” 

“My hands are sweaty.” 

“So?” He chuckled, holding his hand out for her this time. The sand was a little hard to navigate in her sandals but she really doesn’t want to hold his hand either. She could manage on her own. 

“I’m okay.” She answered, thankful that they just reached Jessica and Landon so he wouldn’t force an explanation out of her like he often did with little effort. 

(Y/N) decided to just dip her feet in. That way, she didn’t have to take off the tee shirt and get wet. She’d much rather find something to eat after this and not be soaked while she does. 

Landon occupied Harry while (Y/N) got to whisper with Jessica for a little bit. 

“He refuses to stay in the other room.” She muttered, rolling her eyes. 

“What’s the issue with the room anyway? I thought you didn’t mind sharing a bed.” Poor Jessica. She should’ve given her a bit more information but she really didn’t want to explain to other people that Harry doesn’t find her attractive in the least. She’s already embarrassed, she doesn’t want anyone else knowing. Even though the entire room full of groomsmen heard. 

“We just need some space, you know? He doesn’t realize it now but…we do.” 

The water was calm at the moment. It just reached her ankles when it came up the shore and that was all she needed. The sun was just dipping past the horizon and everything was bathed in an orange glow. It’s beautiful and (Y/N) is so happy for her friends. And to be a part of something so special. 

“Aren’t you going to take this off?” Harry stepped beside her, his hand tugging on the end of her tee shirt. 

“I don’t want to get wet.” She kept her eyes on the sky. If she looked at Harry now in this light, she’d be a goner. And she needed to stay strong. He doesn’t want anything to do with her and that should be fine. She shouldn’t be wondering day and night what if things were different. What if Harry did think she was pretty? Would that change anything? 

(Y/N) knows that he enjoys her company. That part is evident. Her brain just won’t let the idea rest. Harry doesn’t think she’s good enough for him. It was as simple as that but it was a hard pill to swallow. 

There was little conversation between the two. (Y/N) knows he’s very aware that something had shifted, he just hadn’t brought it up yet. But Harry is not one to let things go either. He’d bring it up eventually. She tried to keep her eyes on the view in front of her. It was beautiful and it allowed her to relax for a moment and clear her mind. 

They said goodbye to Landon and Jessica on the beach and went to find something to eat. Harry suggested room service since a lot of the restaurants around the hotel were beginning to close. 

After eating, (Y/N) took a quick shower and snuggled into the sheets while Harry went off to take his own shower. She wanted to be asleep before he got back, but apparently, he wasn’t interested in being in the shower longer than five minutes. He was back before her eyes could shut so she was forced to interact with him. 

“Feel alright?” 

“Mhm.” She hummed, keeping her eyes sealed shut as he slipped into the bed beside her. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” She felt his body shift closer to her under the blankets. He’d moved so close that his chest was pressed to her back. Normally, this would never be a problem but now that she knows what she knows, she doesn’t feel as comfortable as she once did.

His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her even further into him. 

“Goodnight then.” He said before settling his hand over her stomach. 

“Uh,” She interrupted the quiet after his goodnight. “Would you mind like…giving me a little bit of space?” 

“Oh,” His hand pulled away quickly. “Sure. I didn’t realize that…yeah. Okay. Goodnight.” He moved back toward his side of the bed, laying on his back now. 

(Y/N)’s not sure why, but she feels like she’s being mean to him. Even though she really did want the space between them, it wasn’t something that she was saying just to hurt his feelings. But she knows she did anyway. 

At the moment, it feels necessary, so she doesn’t apologize or curl up next to him like she’d normally do. She just shut her eyes again and tried to get to sleep. 

***

The next day, (Y/N) and Harry were rushing around, trying to make the final arrangements for the wedding before the rehearsal dinner. 

There wasn’t much time spent with Harry actually, she was too busy doing things centered around Jessica. She figured Harry was doing the same for Landon but hadn’t yet responded to his text asking if she was as tired as he was. She was busy. At least that would be her excuse when he pouted and asked her why she was ignoring him when they met at the rehearsal dinner in just shy of an hour. 

She made it to the hotel room, showered, changed, and left again before he ever made it back. So, she didn’t have to deal with his questions quite yet. 

(Y/N) tried to keep herself surrounded by bridesmaids while Jessica and Landon’s families went on with speeches and toasts. And then Jessica and Landon themselves had a few words to say. So, she was able to sip her wine and pretend like she didn’t feel Harry looking at her every few seconds. When he walked in, she did send him a wave but didn’t get out of her seat to go join him at his table near the back. It was full now, so there really wasn’t a reason to go over there. At least, that’s what she thought. 

When everyone broke up to get dinner at the small restaurant right across the street from the venue they were in, the same one that would be used for the reception, Harry caught a hold of her arm. 

“Fuck’s sake. Where have you been? Don’t you know you’re supposed to sit next to me at something like that?” His smile was still bright and playful like he didn’t mind much that she was practically avoiding him. Or he hadn’t noticed. Or he was just pretending he didn’t at the moment, she’s not sure. 

Dinner was good. Sitting next to Harry was as it always is. His arm was splayed over the back of her chair and he was making jokes the entire time only for her to hear. He made her genuinely laugh a few times but most of it was her rolling her eyes and nudging him with her elbow. Things almost felt normal. Until one of Jessica’s cousins who was gorgeous sat in the empty seat next to Harry and she had to listen to them talk for thirty minutes and she wasn’t invited into the conversation once. Those same feelings of self-doubt and not feeling good enough came hurtling back at her. And then she couldn’t even look him in the eye when the girl finally did saunter off after slipping him her number like she didn’t want (Y/N) to see or something. And that just made her sick. 

Jessica and Landon were completely occupied with their family and they probably wouldn’t need her anymore tonight, so (Y/N) considered just going back to the hotel to get rest for tomorrow. Plus, the time that she’s supposed to meet Jessica and the other bridesmaids is early enough for her to want to go to bed now. 

“Hey. Take a walk with me?” Harry rubbed his hand over her shoulder. She nodded, agreeing even though she shouldn’t have. She just thought it’d get her back to the hotel quicker. 

In minutes, (Y/N) and Harry are on the beach, walking side by side in the sand. They kicked off their shoes in the grass before stepping into the sand and they hadn’t said a word since. 

“You’re stunning,” He said all of a sudden. “I mean…truly. You’re beautiful, (Y/N).” 

She wanted to shoot him a look and tell him to stop lying to her but she didn’t. Instead, she shrugged, trying not to take him too seriously. 

“Thanks.” 

“I missed you today.” Another bright smile was sent her way. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” He sighed, reaching for her empty hand. “Weddings are always fun, huh?” 

“Sure. It’s a lot of work though. But Jess and Landon are so good together.” It was true. (Y/N) had never really seen anything like it. How in sync the two of them are and how in love they seem to be. 

“I’d like to be married one day, I think.” His hand squeezed hers. 

“Me too, I guess. Just because.” 

“Really?” 

“Eventually.” 

“Can I be honest for a second?” Harry stopped where he was in the sand, causing her to do the same. She’s not sure what he’d want to be honest about. She thought he was always honest with her. 

“Yeah.” 

“You’re my best friend, (Y/N),” Suddenly, his expression was serious, something that (Y/N) seldom sees. “And…I love you.” 

“I love you too, Harry.” It was something they’ve said to each other for years. But he shook his head as soon as she said it back. 

“No. Like, I like you.” 

“I’d hope so with how much time we spend together.” She chuckled. He grabbed both of her hands, another unamused look on his face. 

“(Y/N). Listen. I love you. I like you. I want you. Not like a friend. Not even close to a friend.” 

She snatched her hands away, taking two steps away from him. 

“Can we just go back to the hotel now? This was a waste of time.” 

“A waste of time? I just told you how I feel about you.” The very vulnerable expression he had is long gone now, replaced by something close to hurt and disbelief. 

“God, what did you do? Make a bet with Matt or something? Just to pull one over on me?” 

“What are you talking about?”

“I heard what you said to him.” (Y/N) is ready to confess and get this entire thing over with. She can finally tell him that she heard what he said and confront him about it. 

“To who?” 

“Matt!” She took another few steps away from him but he followed. “Is this fun for you? Messing with me like this? This is why I didn’t want to share a room with you.” 

“I’m so lost—”

“Of course you are.” Turning, she wanted to make her way back to the room, collect her belongings, and beg one of the other bridesmaids to stay in their room for the night. Surely someone would take pity on her. 

“(Y/N), just fucking talk to me! What’s going on?” He gripped her arm, spinning her to face him once again. “What did I say?” 

“How could you forget?” She laughed, ripping her arm from him. “You’re just so thankful that I’m not your type, aren’t you? I’m just your best friend, like your sister, and you’d never even take a second look at me. Because I’m not worth your time.” 

Maybe she added in a few bits that she’d been stewing over in her own mind. He didn’t outwardly say most of that but to her, it all fell in line anyway. 

“When did I—” He started to ask but stopped himself, as if he suddenly remembered when he said those things. “You’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“How else could you mean that? I’m not your type. Sounds pretty straightforward to me, Harry,” He looked helpless for a moment, like he didn’t know what to say to make it better. For the first time in his life. “And then that girl! She’s your type! Go get her since you seemed so interested earlier.” 

“What girl, (Y/N)? Christ, what are you on about?” Now he looks frustrated by her lack of answering his questions but she really doesn’t feel like talking. 

“Jessica’s cousin. She gave you her number, I bet you loved that.” 

“I didn’t take her number, (Y/N). I was just being nice!” 

“You’re always just so nice, aren’t you? So fucking nice all the time!” She hated that. He was too afraid to tell someone to fuck off, so he just put up with anyone that decided to to talk to him even if it was the last thing he wanted to do. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t bother me. It’s just the fact that you dragged me out here to try and lie to me. You like me—love me—I don’t buy it for a second. I’m done with this conversation. Goodnight.” 

It would be almost impossible to avoid him like she wanted to but maybe she’d find another ride home. They do have to walk down the aisle together but she doesn’t have to talk to him, she can just try to keep her face pleasant as she walks beside him. It shouldn’t be longer than a minute. And then she can ignore him for the entire reception and when they get home, she can consider figuring all of this out. After plenty of time, of course. 

“You misheard me. It wasn’t like that.” He reached for her but before he could touch her or say much more, she was on her way back to the hotel. After grabbing her sandals in the grass. 

She felt like crying. But there was no reason to. Yes, technically she’s in a fight with her best friend and they’ve never really had one before. They have disagreed a few times but never anything like this. He’d never made her so mad or hurt her so deeply. Talking about something like that to someone neither of them really knows just crossed the line. Matt is far outside of their friend group, he shouldn’t have gotten any information like that. (Y/N) just wonders why Harry offered it up. 

Harry doesn’t have to like her or think she’s attractive. It would almost be strange if he did, considering how long they’ve been friends. But hearing it from someone who looks like him cuts deep. She wishes she could brush it off because Harry isn’t someone she ever thought of as a possibility. But now that she knows there’s not one, it stirred something inside of her. All of her insecurities came right to the forefront of her mind and no amount of self-soothing has been able to fix it so far. 

She was lucky that she caught one of the bridesmaids in the hallway on her way back to the room. She explained very vaguely that it wasn’t quite working out in her room anymore and she’d sleep on the floor if she had to. The girl was nice and very reassuring and even helped her grab her things from the room. And the best part: she asked no questions. She was just nice and they briefly talked earlier when they were all assigned tasks to do before the rehearsal dinner so she didn’t mind at all. 

She’s also lucky Harry didn’t catch her in the hallway. He wouldn’t have let her go anywhere until he said his piece but she’s not sure he’s made it back to the hotel yet. 

(Y/N) just wants to go home. She hates to be so down during what’s supposed to be one of the happiest days of one of her best friend’s life. But it was hard to think about anything other than Harry. 

That night, she had to force herself to sleep. After thanking the girl ten more times. 

She just hoped that, even though she was upset with him now, everything would work out and they could put this behind them. 

****

(Y/N) ignored the messages on her phone for the time being. She was too busy getting herself ready and doing a few last minute things for Jessica. So, while she maybe wanted to see what he had to say, she didn’t give herself time to dwell on it. She’ll see him at the end of the aisle. 

He was there before she really knew it. Across the room, looking stressed. Like he tossed and turned all night. Like he wanted to run to her now and say a million different things. But he didn’t. He stayed put in line with the other groomsmen and sent her pitiful little looks occasionally when she’d catch his eye, while she kept a stoic expression, not wanting to give him any kind of false hope. She honestly didn’t know how things would be when she decided she wanted to talk to him again. 

Unfortunately for her, that time came too soon. She was already walking down the aisle with him. Their arms interlocked and pleasant smiles on both their faces, like they weren’t not talking at the moment. Like everything was fine. 

When they were meant to let go at the end of the aisle, Harry hesitated, but decided to do nothing more than give her another longing look. He was sorry about something. Or regretful. Something like that. She’d never know unless she talked to him. 

(Y/N) is almost certain that Harry didn’t hear a word of the ceremony. His eyes were locked on her the entire time. Every time she accidentally met his gaze, he was already staring right back. And that would make her force her focus back on the two people in front of them, only until she let her eyes wander his way again. 

The reception was only a short walk away, but she wasn’t sure she’d make it that far. He’d definitely catch up to her before she made it inside.

When the ceremony was over, Jessica and Landon walked back down the aisle and everyone else dispersed and made their way to the cocktail hour that was supposed to immediately follow. 

“(Y/N)?” 

There it was. 

“Can we talk, please?” A hand touched her arm, gently turning her toward him. She had no choice but to look at him and as soon as she saw just how sad he looked, she didn’t care about how mad she was yesterday. Maybe it was true. 

What if he did love her? What if he did want her, but not like a friend? Would that be so bad? She spent the past month making herself believe that she never stood a chance. Not that she has ever wanted to before now, but the idea was just so jarring. Him? With her? It didn’t seem possible. 

But here he is now, almost begging to make things right. 

“Yeah. We can talk.”

The relief that overtook his face made her own shoulders relax. It was only Harry, there’s nothing to be afraid of. A lot had been revealed in the last day but it’s only him. And she knows him. The fact that he’s willing to talk means that he cares a little bit about how upset he’d made her yesterday. Of course, he would though because that’s just who he is. He’s an amazing friend and he’s always there for her no matter what. Even when she completely overreacts and brushes off his feelings. 

They found a semi-private area away from all the wedding guests with the most gorgeous view of the beach with the sun setting behind it. In different circumstances, she’d comment on it, tell him to take her picture right here so she’d be able to remember this day. Right now, she’s not sure she wants to. 

It was quiet for longer than she thought it would be. He was thinking and she didn’t want to rush him, but the time for cocktail hour was ticking down and plus, she just really, really wanted to know what was on his mind. 

“How could you not believe me?” He spoke up suddenly, turning to look at her. “I told you I loved you and you just…blew me off. That took…that took a lot and I don’t understand how you couldn’t see it.” 

He put her on the spot. Did she really want him to know just how insecure she was? And couldn’t he see that they’re not each other’s type? At all. 

“I..I don’t know, Harry. I wasn’t expecting it and when you said it, it just reminded me of that time at the fitting. You were saying what I already knew, so I just didn’t think that you’d change your mind.” 

“What did you already know?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed. She took a deep breath. 

“That you’re not interested in me. I mean, we’re supposed to be friends, so I don’t know why it mattered so much to me, but it hurt to hear you say that and I was so angry at you.” Looking back, she wants to roll her eyes at herself. It was pathetic how she acted. Why couldn’t she just talk to him? This could’ve been cleared up weeks ago. 

“But I am interested in you. I think I’ve said that six times by now,” When he stepped closer to her, he grabbed her hand, and she let him. That one night being on uneasy terms had really done some damage. She felt so lost without him when he wasn’t there for her to run to. He was such a support for her and she didn’t realize to what extent until he wasn’t an option. “I’m sorry that what I said upset you. I was pissed that day. Matthew wouldn’t stop talking about how hot you were and it just fucked with me…he asked me what I thought and I just…I said that. And none of it was true. I don’t know what I was thinking but I also wasn’t going to tell him of all people that I’ve had a crush on you since I met you.” 

She didn’t mean to do it, but she snatched her hand out of his to put it over her mouth. 

“You don’t mean that.” She shook her head. How couldn’t she have known? He chuckled, grasping her hand again and holding it to his chest, right over his heart.

“I do. It feels so good to finally tell you. I guess I didn’t do a good job at dropping hints, did I?” He squeezed her hand. 

She tried to recall every conversation they’ve ever had. And nothing came to mind. Nothing he did or said ever made her think that he might be thinking of her as more. In all their ten years together. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She asked, letting him pull her closer to him. 

“I did. Every time I told you I loved you I meant it. Every day for ten years.” 

That almost made her weak in the knees. None of it made sense. Either he really is the worst at dropping hints or she’s blind. Maybe a healthy balance of the two is what kept them apart. 

“But I thought…none of your girlfriends have ever looked like me. I’m so far out of your league.” She wasn’t expecting him to wrap his arms around her back and press their chests together, but she didn’t exactly mind it either. 

“You are so out of my league. Never thought I deserved you. And of course they didn’t look like you because…you’re you. No one can compare.” 

“You don’t mean that.” Her hand swatted his shoulder before she wrapped her arms around his neck and let herself melt into him. 

“I’d never lie to you and I would never play with your feelings either. You mean so much to me. I couldn’t not tell you yesterday on the beach when you looked like that…like this. You drive me insane,” He pulled them closer together, though it was almost impossible with how they were already standing. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

What was she to do? She had never given it much thought, but over the last month, convincing herself that she’d never be good enough for him, was torturous. But he’s here now, making all the wrongs right and making her chest feel tight. In the best way. She couldn’t help it. 

A tear hurried down her cheek and he gently wiped it away, shaking his head at her, telling her not to cry. He always said he hated that. 

“I’m so sorry,” Her eyes squeezed shut and she shoved her face into his shoulder, forgetting about her makeup that was probably going to be ruined by the time they were done. “I wish that I just talked to you so we didn’t have to do this right now. I’m sorry.” 

He shushed her, leaning his head against hers. 

“It’s okay. We’re here now, right? And you obviously don’t hate that I have a crush on you. Have a crush on me or something?” He nudged his nose against her temple. “Hm?” 

“Maybe. Now that I think of it.” She muttered, not moving from his shoulder yet. 

“Maybe? Come on, I know you love me.” 

“I do love you.” She pulled back, meeting his eyes again. He was smiling, looking relieved. She felt it too. This conversation had been a long time coming and now that they’re both on the same page, all the tension has left her body. She can relax and finally enjoy the wedding. 

“Then, kiss me.”

That had her freezing, looking up at him in shock. 

“What?” She breathed out, suddenly short on breath. Kissing him would make it all true. Not that she still didn’t believe him but it would mean it’s real. And that might just be too much for her. 

“You’ve never thought about kissing me? Now I know you’re lying.” He laughed when she shot him a look. 

“No, I just didn’t know you wanted to do that now.” 

“Well, I do. Right this minute.” 

“Really? Right here?”

“I think I’m speaking pretty plain English, yes. Right here, right now. Kiss me. I’ve been waiting for years, no exaggeration.” One of his hands left her back to tilt her chin toward him. 

“Wait. What if it’s a bad first kiss? I’ll probably ruin it because I’m so nervous. And then you’ll change your mind.” She didn’t mean to say all of that all at once but all her worries came pouring out of her when she really didn’t want them to. 

“How could it be bad? Are you stalling? Please, cocktail hour is almost over and I need to tell Landon that you love me and all that.” He tapped her chin, leaning down toward her, but she turned her head just in time. 

“Landon knows?” 

“Everyone knows. But you, my love. And maybe Matthew. Fucking idiot.” He rolled his eyes.

“How could I be the only one who doesn’t know? That doesn’t sound—”

He grew impatient with her and pressed his mouth to hers, effectively cutting her off and effectively making her forget any doubts she’d ever had. 

While it was a long time coming, it happened at just the right time. 

They pulled away, trying to catch their breath. 

“Fuck me. I think that’s my new favorite thing,” He pecked her lips two more times and then he checked his watch. “One more kiss and then we’ve got to get to cocktail hour. You can kiss me all you want back in our room.” 

****

I had this finished a week or so ago but I decided to wait because last week was a lot. I hope you are all doing well and I hope you like this one!! 🖤

tags: @vamprry @sunflowersloverr @tenaciousperfectionunknown @caynonmoondreams @elidoho @peterbenjaminparke07 @daydreamingofmatilda @kissitnhekitchen @amberbambridge @danaehldy @straightontilmornin @forgetdelaney @harrysonlylover @me-undiscovered @80s-outsiders @littlenatilda @outofthisworl-d @butdaddyilovehim-hs @cherrys4suckers @harrystylessslut @hssunflowervol6 @indierockgirrl @satellitelh @daphnesutton @opheliaofficial07 @nathalielovesonedirection @velvetballaspark @watermelonlover @kathb59 @harrysolaf @szoszi2004 @ellaorchard @trooooye @daylighthazzz @prettytulips @stylesfever @mayamonroem @slut-for-artists @in-omn1a-paratus @lunaharrygurl @uncassettodiricordi @a-strange-familiar @sassamanda77 @fangirl509east @voniikg @adore-you-hs2 @m0mmyfromtarget @savannahwendel @babyyhoneyyy @mrschanandlerb @illicitverstappen

*I had more than 50 tags so I had to take out the ones that weren’t working ☹️☹️ sorry*

Cuteeee

can you write about cold!reader where the team finds out they're together? ahh i love them so much!

UNDENIABLY YOURS. /spencer reid/

you pick up the wrong phone.

late s10 cold!reader 2.6k fluff series masterlist. main masterlist.

a/n | love a good cliche :)

Spencer’s apartment is quiet. Not the kind of quiet that feels awkward or hollow, but the kind that settles over you like a warm blanket—a gentle hush made of ticking clocks, the occasional hum of traffic outside, and the soft shuffling sounds of a man who’s currently making tea in the kitchen.

You’re on his couch, half-curled under a throw blanket that doesn’t quite cover your feet. The place smells like old books and something herbal, likely the blend Spencer claims is “soothing to the parasympathetic nervous system.” You never asked what that meant. You suspect it’s just chamomile with a marketing degree.

The night stretched longer than you intended. Dinner turned into wine, which turned into a slow tour through his cluttered bookshelves, which turned into another round of debate over Kant’s categorical imperative versus utilitarian ethics.

You were only supposed to drop by after work. A quick visit, maybe an hour. But Spencer always pulls time out from under you like a magician with a tablecloth.

And you stay. Again.

You don’t touch much when you’re with him. Not like you could. He’s all soft eyes and hesitant hands. He doesn’t crowd you, doesn’t demand declarations or affection you’re not ready to give. And you? You’re good at compartmentalising. At keeping your feelings tucked into corners, neatly labeled and out of reach. It’s safer that way. Less chaotic.

But you always show up.

That counts for something, right?

“Tea,” he says, emerging from the kitchen with two mismatched mugs. He hands you the one with faded cartoon planets on it. You take it wordlessly.

“Still pretending this helps your parasympathetic system or whatever?” you murmur into the rim of the cup.

Spencer smiles. He always smiles when you needle him. Like he knows it’s your version of affection. Like he’s fluent in your brand of emotional repression.

“I’m not pretending,” he says, settling into the armchair across from you. “There are studies,”

“There are always studies,”

“You want me to send you the links?”

“No,”

“You’d like the one from 2009. It discusses—”

“Spencer,”

“Okay,” he says, holding up both hands in mock surrender. “No studies,”

You sip the tea. It’s hot and bitter and tastes like him. Not literally—he doesn’t taste like dried flowers—but something about the comfort of the moment, the soft warmth of the mug against your palm, the way he looks at you like you’re not a puzzle to solve but a story he’s enjoying watching unfold. It’s familiar. Steady.

Which is probably why you’re still here.

“You staying?” he asks after a few minutes, voice casual. Too casual. Like he didn’t spend the last half hour not asking.

You glance at the clock. It’s past midnight. Late enough to make the excuse that you’re just tired and don’t want to drive. You’re already in the oversized hoodie he handed you—his hoodie, not yours—and your shoes are near the door, lined up next to his like it means something.

You should deflect. You always deflect.

Instead, you say, “Yeah,”

He doesn’t react much, just nods, but there’s a softness in his eyes that makes your chest ache in a way you refuse to examine.

He doesn’t ask for more. He never does.

It’s part of the deal.

Instead, he turns on some lo-fi instrumental playlist (he claims lyrics distract his brain when he’s trying to wind down), and you both migrate to his bedroom.

—

You don’t remember falling asleep. Just that at some point, your eyes fluttered shut, and for once, your thoughts didn’t keep you awake. No spiraling worst-case scenarios. No calculating emotional fallout. Just warmth, and the slow, steady rhythm of Spencer breathing beside you. The kind of peace you don’t admit you crave.

Until it’s shattered.

The phone rings—sharp, insistent—and you jolt awake in an instant, heart pounding with the abrupt transition. The room is pitch black, save for the glowing screen on the nightstand. Spencer groans softly beside you, but doesn’t move.

Still half-asleep, you fumble your hand over the nightstand. Spencer’s glasses, unfinished book, rectangle of impending doom. That’s the one.

“Unless there’s an active terrorist threat,” you snap, voice rough with sleep, “there is zero reason to be calling this late.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence.

Then, cautiously, “…Wait, who is this?”

You rub your face with your free hand, already annoyed. “Who do you think?”

Another pause—longer this time. And then, sharply suspicious, “…Not Spencer Reid?”

You blink, finally focusing on the phone’s lock screen. It’s not yours. Definitely not yours.

You sit up slightly, stomach dropping. Shit. “Uh—”

Spencer stirs beside you, blinking blearily. “Wha’s going on…?”

And that’s when it happens. A long, slow intake of breath through the receiver.

“Oooooooooooooooooh,”

You try to recover. “Garcia.”

“Oh my god,” she hisses, like she just found the holy grail. “I knew something was going on! Oh my god, I knew it!”

Spencer’s sitting up now, trying to make sense of the chaos. “Who is it?”

“Penelope,” you say flatly, glancing at the screen like it’s radioactive as you reluctantly put the call on speakerphone. “What do you want?”

“I need visual confirmation immediately,” Garcia is saying, way too awake for 2:07 AM. “Is he shirtless? Wait—are you? Never mind, don’t answer that. I respect boundaries. Mostly. Oh my god.”

“Garcia.” you say, trying for a tone of calm, rational authority, but it comes out more defensive than intended. ”What do you want?”

“We have an urgent case my dear lovebirds,” She’s practically vibrating through the phone. Hotch wants everyone in the office. Oh I can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions,”

“Garcia—”

“Nope! Too late! This is the best news I’ve gotten all year. JJ owes me twenty dollars, I knew I saw something in the way you looked at each other during the surveillance briefing last month. I have receipts.”

“We’ll be in the office soon,” Spencer mumbles, already resigned.

“Oh, you better be,” she says, like she’s the one running the FBI now. “Buckle up, lovebirds!”

The call ends with a cheerful “Byeeeeeee!” and a click.

You sit there in stunned silence, phone still in your hand, the screen now dark and judgmental. Spencer groans, collapsing backward into the pillows.

“She’s going to tell everyone,”

“She’s already telling everyone,” you correct, flopping back beside him.

“This is going to be so embarrassing,”

You glance over at him—hair tousled, face flushed, one arm slung over his eyes like he’s trying to hide from the world. It’s honestly… kind of adorable.

You smile, just a little. “Could be worse,”

—

The BAU's conference room is already buzzing when you and Spencer walk in—thirty minutes later, coffee in hand, trying very hard to pretend this is just a normal Thursday.

It is not a normal Thursday.

Everyone is already there. Everyone is already looking.

Garcia practically explodes with smug glee the second she sees you. She doesn’t say a word—she doesn’t have to. She’s vibrating with the restrained chaos of someone who knows they’ve set off a very satisfying chain reaction. Her eyes sparkle. Her smile is enormous. She’s won something, and she knows it.

Spencer, for his part, looks like he wants the floor to swallow him whole. He’s gone unusually quiet, hiding behind the rim of his coffee cup like it’s a shield. He keeps tugging at the sleeves of his sweater, hands jittery, face flushed, clearly regretting every decision that led to this moment. He won’t look at anyone.

And everyone else?

Well.

JJ’s eyebrows are in her hairline. Emily’s face is frozen somewhere between astonishment and visible mental recalibration. Morgan looks like he just got handed a particularly juicy tabloid headline. And Rossi—bless him—leans back in his chair, crosses his arms, and gives you both the kind of slow, impressed once-over usually reserved for rare bourbon.

Nobody says anything.

The silence stretches.

Spencer makes a small noise like he’s about to speak—probably to stammer through some clumsy attempt at clarification—but you beat him to it.

You cross your arms, plant your feet, and deliver the line like a press briefing:

“Yes, we’re dating. No, we haven’t had sex. We’ve been together officially for three months. I will not answer any questions, so don’t ask them.”

It lands like a bomb.

The room goes absolutely silent.

For a few blessed seconds, no one dares to move.

Then, from the corner, Rossi lets out a low chuckle—more impressed than anything else. “Well. That’s one way to do it,”

Morgan whistles low under his breath, shaking his head with an admiring grin. “Damn, kid,” he says to Spencer, who is now actively hiding behind his coffee. “I knew you had game,”

Garcia looks like she’s about to start clapping. You shoot her a warning glare.

“I’m just happy for you!” she chirps, hands raised in innocence. “This is so good for team morale,”

You glance at Spencer—his face still red, lips pressed tight like he’s trying not to die on the spot—and sigh.

Hotch remains blissfully unaffected.

He’s sitting at the head of the conference table, scrawling something on a case file with his ever-present air of detached focus. His pen moves in slow, methodical strokes as if he’s entirely unaware that the team has just been thrown into chaos.

Everyone is staring at Hotch now, waiting for him to react, but he doesn’t—he doesn’t even look up from his paperwork.

Rossi, of course, is the first to break the silence. “You knew about this,”

Hotch finally looks up—barely. It’s almost as if he’s taking a mental note of your existence before giving his usual level of minimal acknowledgment.

“They informed me,” he says matter-of-factly. “HR protocols.”

The silence in the room grows exponentially. HR protocols?

Rossi looks betrayed. So does Emily. JJ blinks rapidly, trying to process the betrayal. Even Morgan stares at Hotch like he just said something deeply alien to their universe.

Garcia’s jaw drops in comically exaggerated shock. “Wait… you knew and didn’t tell us? Hotch!” She looks almost wounded by the injustice of it all.

Hotch, however, doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He leans back in his chair, tapping his pen idly on the table. “I was informed of a change in personal relationships within the team,” he says, as if explaining why his coffee’s not hot enough. “Standard procedure.”

Derek’s mouth twitches with the effort to hold back laughter, clearly fighting the urge to burst into full-on chuckles. “That’s it? No ‘I’m happy for you’ or ‘This changes everything!’?”

Hotch doesn’t even flinch. “Congratulations,” he adds with minimal sincerity, glancing up briefly, before continuing, “but we have an urgent case to focus on.”

Everyone’s collective sense of betrayal is palpable. There’s a beat of stunned silence before Emily, trying to save face, says, “I… I guess we should focus on the case.” She says it with half a smile, but the effort is obvious. “But seriously, Hotch. No heads-up? Not even a hint?”

Hotch simply gives them his patented “this is serious business” look and straightens up. “Focus, everyone.” His voice brooks no argument. “We’re being briefed on a new case, and I need all of you focused. Now.”

And just like that, the air in the room shifts. The humor fades, the teasing subsides, and everyone reluctantly pulls their attention to the matter at hand.

—

The rest of the day passes in a haze of good-natured (and sometimes not so good-natured) teasing. Derek, as always, is the first to crack a joke.

“So, you two gonna make superhuman babies, or what?” he smirks, raising his eyebrows suggestively as he watches you and Spencer in the hallway.

Spencer nearly chokes on his coffee, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. “Morgan,” he stammers, voice barely above a whisper, “can you not?”

Derek just grins wider. “Oh, I’m just getting started, loverboy,” He winks at you both and saunters off with the most obnoxious swagger imaginable.

Garcia, never one to be outdone, is already planning date ideas before you even step off the jet. “You two should so check out that new fancy restaurant that just opened up down the street,” She nods at you, holding up her phone like she’s already making the reservation.

You raise an eyebrow at Spencer, just to see his reaction. He’s still turning red, but you can’t help a small, satisfied smile at the sight of his discomfited expression.

“No, Garcia. We shouldn’t,”

“Oh come on,” She beams. “I would die to be taken there on a date,”

You tilt your head at her, “You really think we would enjoy a place like that? Really?”

“Well…”

Emily, for her part, is still trying to process what the hell just happened. She keeps glancing at you both, trying to act casual but clearly still in disbelief. “So soon—” She shakes her head. “I’m just—wow. Okay. Good for you, I guess? I’ve gotta go hide from Morgan now, completely unrelated—”

JJ just chuckles, arms crossed. “Congratulations, both of you. I’m really happy for you,”

You could almost thank the universe for the relief of normalcy. You don’t. The universe didn’t do shit. It was all you. And Spencer. Mainly Spencer. “Thank you,”

The day finally winds down, and it’s time to leave. Spencer walks you to your hotel room, still looking like he might burst into flames from sheer embarrassment. You’ve let him be teased by the others, of course, but nothing too much. He’s still wearing that sheepish, half-worried expression as you approach your car, and you can’t help but smirk.

“Well,” you say, glancing up at him as you lean against the room’s door, “Now they know,”

Spencer groans. It’s low, and it carries all the weight of his supposed regret. “Yeah,”

You lean in just a little, close enough that your voices are quiet but not enough for anyone else to overhear. You keep your tone flat, but there’s something soft in your eyes when you speak.

“Could’ve been worse,” you remark, just barely meeting his gaze. A quiet reassurance, a little more tender than the rest of the day has been. It’s not the most romantic thing in the world, but it’s yours.

He’s helpless, standing there, still flustered. But the way he looks at you—fondness in his eyes and a soft laugh escaping his lips—makes everything feel more okay than it probably should.

You reach up a soft hand to brush over the side of Spencer’s face, a juxtaposition he’d never point out unless you asked, and he smiles against you as you kiss him goodnight.

You’re barely parted when he speaks, foreheads pressed together and his declaration a whisper on your lips. “I love you,”

“Thank you,” you nod softly as you separate, “Goodnight, Spencer,”

“goodnight,”

💕💕

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." 

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.

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 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."