#toyboxboy

[goldenrazzmatazz]

Hot in Here- Chapter 2

GIF by��toyboxboy

When you and Reid are exposed to an unknown chemical in the field, things get hot.

Warnings: Reader Insert, No use of y/n, Explicit Sexual Content, Sex Pollen, Dubious Consent

Word Count: 3.3k

Read Both Chapters on Ao3

[luveline]

https://www.tumblr.com/toyboxboy/178859009323

Spencer is so daddy in the later seasons wtf 😭😭

... 😰 boyfriend

[spooky-spock]

where did toyboxboy go?????

i have no idea!

When i hover over their url in a post they were tagged in, i’m given this blog:

(undefined.tumblr.com)

so it’s possible they decided to switch to a personal blog and stop doing cm stuff? sometimes people just lose interest in things, so while i’m disappointed i can’t find their old content, i can’t entirely blame them for that.

(or maybe this is just a weird tumblr glitch and this person has nothing to do with toyboxboy)

sorry i can’t give a great answer. anyone else know more?

[sublimeskylines]

Spencer Reid licking his lips 1/∞ 

[tobias-hankel]

“It's hard enough to stab someone 10 times, but 71... he'd be completely worn out.”

Criminal Minds: 6x19, With Friends Like These

[mxltifandom-imagines]

You: “Spence.. There’s something you need to know. I’m.. asexual.” Spencer: “That’s good to know, (Y/N).” You: (smile) “I knew you wouldn’t mind, but please let’s keep this between us. Promise me you won’t tell anyone?” Spencer: “I promise you I won’t.”

requested by study-owl-22

[darnittumbleweed]

⬆ honestly just my last brain cell trying to function through a never ending quarantine and online classes....

[zackreid]

Matthew Gray Gubler is a babe

[natashxromanovf]

The Accident

Spencer Reid x paramedic!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 1677

WARNINGS: a lot of dialogue (as always), mentions of a crash, mentions of a hospital, swearing

REQUESTED: no, hurt/comfort

SUMMARY: When an accident occurs, Spencer is worried out of his mind not knowing if something bad happened to you.

A/N: finally kinda done with requests, so i can write some of my ideas. this is a crossover between the show's criminal minds and chicago fire, but it’s not very relevant to the story. it’s more leaning against criminal minds (obviously, it's spencer) and it’s not chicago fire anymore cause it’s happening in quantico😂 gif credits to @toyboxboy

The sound of a siren goes off, signalling it’s time to go. You look up, eyes searching for your partner, just as she comes up behind you, tapping your shoulder.

“Ready?” she asks, earning a nod from you. You hop on the passenger's side, your partner sitting down on the driver's seat. The door opens and the two of you are on your way to help the old lady who, according to the dispatch, fell down the stairs. You just hope it’s not too bad.

“So, how’s it going with that agent of yours?” Shay suddenly asks, making you remember she’s one of the nosiest people you know.

“First of all, he’s a doctor. He’s very sensitive when it comes to that,” you laugh, the blonde mirroring your actions. “And it’s going amazing. He’s so sweet, I love it when he rambles about the most random things and even though I don’t know what he’s talking about half the time, it reminds me of home. I really don’t get why people are so annoyed by his facts,” you say, now already starting to ramble.

“Wow, you’re in bad, girl,” she states, a big grin on her face. It’s her thing - she’s happy when she knows people around her are too. And that’s one of the many things you love about her, even though it can hurt her from time to time.

“Don’t I know it,” you sigh, looking out the window, thinking about the genius. You’ve been dating for a couple of months now, almost a year actually, and he’s the best thing that has happened to you. Despite the horrible job he does, the horrors he sees he’s one of the nicest people in the world. He always tries to come home in time to at least kiss you goodnight, and when he’s on a case he never fails to find some time to call you.

“Can you check if we’re close already?” Shay questions, snapping you out of your thoughts. You hum, looking at the GPS.

“Yes, we should be there in half a minute,” you inform, just as the blonde passes an intersection. The next few things that happen are a complete blur - it all happened so quickly. A truck ran over a red light, crashing into the ambulance. You hear glass shattering, pieces of it falling everywhere. That’s the last thing you feel before darkness overtakes your senses, losing consciousness momentarily.

You slowly open your eyes, blinking a couple of times to adjust to the brightness. You can hear sirens from every direction, the sound still slightly muffled by the ringing in your ears. And then you feel a hand on your neck, stilling you as the other person wraps something around it.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” a voice calls out, a head appearing in front of your eyes. It takes some time to register who it is, just to recognise one of your co-workers.

“Matt?” you ask, all of a sudden aware of your aching muscles, literally feeling the pain in your bones.

“Yes it’s me, you’re going to be okay,” he mutters, letting the paramedics lift you up to a gurney.

“Shay?”

“She’s going to be fine,” Casey quickly replies, not wanting to scare you even further. The truth is, she’s in a far worse shape than you are, the truck crashed into her side.

“Please call Spencer,” you murmur, just before the doors of the ambulance close, Matt nodding.

~

It was a slow day at work for Spencer. There wasn’t a new case, just piles of paperwork. If he wanted to, he could finish it in an hour or two, but he really doesn’t feel like it today. He doesn’t know what’s happening but the day is somehow longer than usual. And it also seems like it’s affecting everyone, not just him.

Taking his eyes off the report he was working on, he looks across to Morgan’s desk, where the man is almost sleeping already. The genius quickly takes an eraser that was sitting on his desk, throwing it on Derek’s desk. That startles him, wildly opening his eyes before he realises what’s going on.

“Reiddd,” he groans, throwing the rubber back. Spencer just laughs, slightly shaking his head. Morgan was about to say something else but Spencer’s phone rings, shutting him up. He picks up, quiet chuckles still coming out of his throat.

“Hello, this is Spencer Reid,” he introduces himself because it was an unknown number.

“Hi, this is Matthew Casey I work-”

“With Y/N, yeah, I’ve heard great things about you,” Spencer finishes for the lieutenant. Slight worry settles itself into the younger man though, cause why would the man be calling him? “I’m sorry, but is everything okay?” Reid asks, a sigh is heard from the other end of the line. He knows that kind of sigh - it’s an “I’m about to deliver you some bad news” kind of sigh, he heard it a million times before, even did it himself. “What’s wrong?” he now says, his expression changing completely. That catches Derek’s attention, dropping whatever he was working on and focusing on the conversation instead.

“Y/N, she- she was in an accident. She’s fine, she just has a concussion, some bruises and cuts. She’s at the hospital now. If I’m honest, she was really lucky,” Casey finishes, worry now written all over Spencer’s face.

“Which hospital?” he almost whispers, his head still not fully wrapping around what happened. That alerts Morgan, standing up and coming to his friend’s desk.

“The one closest to our firehouse,” the blonde replies, still staying on the line despite someone calling him.

“I’m on my way,” the doctor states, hanging up and quickly walking to Hotch’s office. “Hotch,” he greets as he steps into his office just enough so his boss can see him.

“What is it?” Hotch quickly asks, knowing the expression on his team member’s face all too well. He can’t quite pinpoint what it is, but it’s bad.

“Y/N, she’s at the hospital, I have to- can I-”

“Yes, of course, take as much time as you need,” Aaron comments, standing up. “And please, don’t hesitate to call if you need anything,” he adds, Spencer already half on his way down the stairs.

“Morgan can you-”

“Right behind you, kid,” Derek mutters, grabbing his jacket and running after the genius.

~

Arriving at the hospital, they stop in the parking lot, Reid practically jumping out of the car. In a matter of seconds, he’s inside the hospital, frantically looking around for your coworkers. They’re all seated in chairs, some pacing up and down, running out of patience. He’s quick to approach them, startling some of the men.

“She’s okay,” Severide states the second your boyfriend is in the line of hearing. A breath leaves Spencer’s mouth, one he hasn’t even realised he was holding. Now that he knows you’re fine, there’s one more thing he has to ask, knowing both you and him have to know. Shay is the only person Spencer has officially met from the firehouse and he took a quick liking to the woman. She’s funny and makes people smile, so he’s happy you found a good friend in her.

“How’s Leslie?” he questions, a lump forming in his throat. He swallows hard, fearing the answer. A shake of Severide’s head is all it takes for him to know. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah, they’re operating on her right now,” Kelly informs, his voice slightly breaking at the end.

“Y/N’s in the room down the hall,” someone who Spencer assumes is Herman says, earning a nod as a thank you from the Agent. On the way he momentarily grabs Severide’s shoulder, squeezing it as a reminder that the blonde girl is going to be just fine. After all, she’s very strong from what Spencer heard. Kelly thanks him with a look and a small, sad smile.

Knocking on the door of the room where you’re in he opens them, stepping inside. Your sitting form immediately shifts to the intruder, quickly standing up and jumping into his arms. He wraps you in a tight hug, a little too tight considering your injuries but you don’t say anything, you’re just happy you’re in his arms again. A tear rolls down your cheek because right before you passed out, all you could think about is how you won’t see him again - but by some miracle he’s here, standing in front of you.

“Please don’t do that to me ever again,” Spencer whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You just lean more into him, adjusting your hands. He presses a kiss to the side of your head, now his turn to cry. He also thought he lost you forever.

“Spencer, no one will tell me a thing. How’s- How’s she?” you manage to get out, slowly starting to pull away from him so you can see his face.

Spencer knows there’s no point in lying. After all, you do deserve a truth. “It’s bad. She’s in surgery, that’s all I know. The whole firehouse is out there, we can go wait with them if the doctor cleared you,” Spencer sympathetically implies, earning a firm nod from you. You stop quickly though, your head started pounding, just as the doctor said. You had a concussion, you knew your head was going to be a bitch for the next week or so.

“Please, I need to know,” you mutter, grabbing your things, accepting Spencer’s offered hand. He leads you to them, all of them looking up once they hear the footsteps.

“Oh, Y/N, we’re so glad you’re okay,” Gabby immediately stands up, wrapping you into a gentler hug than the one you received before this one. You take a deep breath, knowing how hard the next few hours will be. And all you can do is wait - wait with friends by your side, with the love of your life sitting next to you. But deep down, you know she’ll make it; she’s Leslie Elizabeth Shay for God’s sake.

criminal minds taglist: /

spencer reid: @hallecarey1

i hope you enjoyed this! don't forget to like, reblog and/or comment, it really helps writers with motivation <33

taglist form

[leahblackk]

Practical Magic

(Credits to @toyboxboy for the gif and I’m sorry for using your gifs so much)

Request: i need someone to write a spencer reid fic based off ‘practical magic’ (the one with nicole kidman in) it would be so good 😭😭

Summary: Y/n´s bloodline has a horrible curse for those who dare love a woman of the family, and because of that she had never fell in love yet the FBI agent Spencer Reid might change that. 

Couple: Spencer Reid x fem!witch!reader

Warnings: witchcraft, a little mention of the witch trials and alcohol. 

Disclamer: This fic is based on the movie “practical magic” and many of the things of that movie will be mentioned yet you dont have to watch the movie to read the story as I changed half of the things to fit my idea of the story. Reader has a sister and two aunties!!

I absolutely love this movie and i was so excited when I got this sort of request so here we go!

Tagging: @ssavanessa22​, @measure-in-pain, @alexlovescriminalminds and @all-tings-diego

I finally made it official, here’s my taglist. Please press the bottom if you want to join 🌙

Do you believe in magic?

Do you believe in witches?

Do you believe in love?

If your answer to those questions were no… Maybe this story is not for you, but I hope this story can change your perspective of things if you decide to stay.

Curses have been thrown into the world without even noticing. Maybe people think about something firm enough for it to become real. Some people call it coincidence.

Y/n’s bloodline, the women of the family, had a curse in them. It was created by an old ancestor who was the first witch in the family. The people of the town were about to hang her! But she had the gift of magic, the same gift that saved her life.

She was banished from her home, with her unborn child growing inside her belly. She waited for her lover to rescue her. But he never came. No one came. In a moment of despair, she cast a spell upon herself that she would never again feel the agony of love. But as her bitterness grew, the spell turned into a curse.

To announce their death, the woman would hear a beetle all day long. When you hear the sound of the deathwatch beetle, the man you love is doomed to die.

Many of the women of the family proved that theory, and in the end, Y/n decided she would never fall in love with anyone! She won't feel the agony of love, and she won't die from a broken heart.

She promised herself that, and to make her promise even stronger, she wished for the perfect man to come into her life, and if he didn't, she would not die from a broken heart.

Promises are strong, but can they be broken?

The turns of life can be unexpected.

Now Y/n owns a store in the island where her sister and aunt’s live with her, which makes her fill a little bit of that emptiness in her heart, something she had never figured out what it was, but the desperation to, grow inside of her. Her store has a little bit of everything, from witchy stuff to vinyl and books, all those things she loved growing up, and now as an adult.

The little bell of the store rang, and Y/n looked up to see her sister, Gilly, walking in with a long black shirt, a green sweater, and black glasses. Y/n chuckled, "You missed the sun," she joked as she pointed to the sky where it was grey announcing the rain was coming.

"Ugh, I have to look great for the visit," she said, moving her eyebrows up and down, sitting in front of her sister. Y/n frowns and puts her book on the table, giving her full attention to her sister.

"What visit?"

"Some hot FBI agents are in town. Something weird happened here, and they are investigating."

"Weird things always happen here," she murmurs while she grabs the books on the desk to put them where they belong, "Why do you want the FBI interrogating you anyway? You should be running."

"Ha, ha, ha, very funny," Gilly rolled her eyes, "Did I mention hot FBI agents? There's this muscular Adonis guy on the team, and I hope I bump into him," she said, helping her sister out with the books.

"Yeah, not a great idea," Y/n mentioned while she felt shivers around her body, hugging herself with her cardigan.

Gilly looks at her weirdly, yet she doesn't say anything about it, “You know, there's this guy who is just like you. I think his name was… Spencer? Yeah! Spencer Reid."

"Spencer? Sounds familiar."

"You might have heard of him. He's some sort of genius," she said, picking Salem, the cat, up and petting his head.

Y/n frowned yet didn't continue with the conversation. His name made a loud echo on her head, something she couldn't understand just yet.

Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid

…

The young doctor walked carefully through the beautiful and windy streets. To be honest, he should've been collecting information for the case, but his head was hurting, he had a massive migraine, and he couldn't think about anything else.

He looked up when a few dead leaves from a tree fell on his head, brushing them off softly and watching them falling directly to the pavement.

Spencer looked around, mesmerized by the beauty in front of him.

As he walked in, he saw a black cat looking at him.

If Spencer were someone else, he would've feared the feline due to the superstitions, instead, he walked carefully where he was.

"Hey," he softly said, lifting his hand, hoping for the permission of the cat to be touched. The little animal moved close to Spencer's hand and brushed his head against his arm. Spencer smiled and patted his head until he looked up at the store in front of him.

A young woman was moving around the store, putting books on the shelves and lighting up candles.

Spencer could feel the warmth of the store. He wanted to come in, but he didn't as his phone started buzzing.

We need your brain doctor Reid

The message said from his colleague, Alex Blake.

He sighed and said his goodbyes to the cat. He then started walking his way back to the precinct as thunder echoed in the sky.

…

Y/n sighed while she moved around her store. Her sister left, being bored of the old shop. There weren't many clients that day due to the coming rain, one she could deduce would happen at any given minute.

Y/n grabbed a jar and opened the door to catch some rainwater for future things. Hearing her aunties voices in the back of her head.

She put the jar closed to the store but far enough for it to catch the clean water coming from the grey sky. As she walked inside, the rain finally made its appearance.

She closed the door as she felt the shivers coming for her once again.

But she stood frozen in her place before she made it further in the store.

Her heart stopped for a few seconds, and then it started beating faster and faster, like she just ran a marathon.

The broom fell, making an echo in the silent store, making her jump in her place.

Someone was coming.

Y/n quickly looked around to see if everything was perfectly organized. Salem purred and walked next to her, brushing his head against her leg, and then made his way to the table, ready to take his nap.

She pressed her palms against the soft fabric of her jeans and waited for the person to come in.

And like he was called by some force, the bell of the store rang above his head.

The young doctor made his way in, looking up to the young woman he saw earlier. Spencer was wet, -not much anyway-, because of the heavy rain outside.

He smiled at Y/n feeling an odd sensation inside of him, and she smiled at him back, taking a soft orange and blue blanket and handing it to Spencer, "Thank you. I was walking by, and I didn't notice how heavy the rain was going to be," he said.

He wasn't totally lying. After going to the precinct, he made his way back to the store. Something was calling him in.

"It's okay. You can stay here if you'd like. Until the rain stops," she said.

"Yeah, thank you," Spencer softly smiled, looking around the store.

He then spotted the books and made his way to them. Y/n made her way back behind the desk, looking at the young man. But she wasn't just looking at him. She was analyzing him.

She saw the way his fluffy hair fell on his forehead softly, it had this beautiful caramel colour, and she thought that if she touched it, it would feel like clouds. His soft skin, rosy cheeks, red lips, nice cheekbones, and cute small nose. His hazel golden eyes; The man was a masterpiece indeed.

Maybe he wasn't real. Maybe she was dreaming. Perhaps she drank Belladonna, and she wasn't conscious anymore. She feared waking up and him not being there.

He looked so concentrated, the way his eyes moved, and he licked his lips. She needed to know his name.

"Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Spencer Reid," He said, looking at her. She had a frown on her face. She wondered how he could've known what she was thinking, but then it hit her.

He was the FBI agent her sister talked about!

Spencer took those seconds to look at her. She looked beautiful. She had an angelic face. Her eyes looked at him with curiosity screaming, "who are you?" and he hoped his eyes were saying the same.

A need, a weird need, brushed and knocked him off.

He wanted to know about her. To know who she was. To know that weird feeling moving his heart.

 Who was she? Why does he feel that way around her even when they just verily met?

It wasn't like he was in love with her but, he just felt like he knew her from somewhere… somewhere deep in his mind.

"Hi Spencer," Y/n gave him a soft smile, " I'm Y/n, nice to meet you," she walked to him, "Did you find a book of your interest?"

Spencer looked away from her, "Um, I'm-I’m not sure. I'm just looking around. You have a beautiful store. I-I haven't seen anything like it."

She chuckled, "Thank you so much. It-It means a lot to me. This store contains everything I consider interesting in life," she spoke, looking around.

"That's interesting. I've seen the crystals and the witchy stuff before, but um, nothing so various like this," they walked to the aisle she knew perfectly well.

"Oh, do you practice witchcraft?"

"N-Not exactly," he said, picking a jar full of rosemary, "I just read a lot."

"A curious mind," Y/n said, picking an amethyst, "I like that."

Spencer looked at the beautiful crystal, feeling at peace with Y/n, feeling the soft scent of vanilla, his favourite one that made its way to his nose and made him become addicted to it, "Amethyst is my favourite crystal and is good for cleanse and meditation. It also can be use cleanses," he quickly rambled, she looked at him with a smile, "But I'm sure you already knew that," she chuckled looking at the floor and nodding, "Do you practice?" he pointed to the whole aisle.

"Oh yeah. My whole family is; it's already in my blood."

He smiled, "That's interesting. I have never met a witch before."

"I'm glad to be the first one."

…

The days passed by, Spence staying in the the town . Unfortunate for the team, but fortunate for Y/n and Spencer as they got to meet each other. They shared a bond that no one of them had ever felt before. Spencer would walk to the store and talk to her, discussing knowledge back and forth, getting to know Salem. He swore he could spend the rest of his life in that store and never be bored. He swore he could spend the rest of his life knowing her, and he could never be bored.

But as the leaves in the trees get their time to show their beauty when autumn comes, they die and fall to the ground, Y/ns and Spencer's relationship would eventually fall.

At noon, Spencer was found with her discussing some of their favourite theories about the creation of the world.

"That's actually a good point. I've never seen it that way, to be honest," Y/n spoke while she drank her tea.

She felt something moving on the back of her hand, and looked down just to find a little ladybug moving around. Spencer looked at her as well and decided to share his knowledge, "Did you know that ladybugs aren't actual bugs, but they are beetles?"

Y/n smiled at his little fact. She loved that about him.

But then… her heart stopped.

A beetle.

Beetle.

Beetle.

No! It can't happen. She doesn't love him… does she?

"No," she murmured.

Spencer frowned, stretching his hand to touch hers, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I um… I just remembered something."

The bell of the store rang, making them turn their heads around to see who was there.

Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, and Alex Blake, Spencer's coworkers, were in the store. Spencer frowned, "What are you doing here?"

"Miss Y/L, we have a couple of questions for you. If you can come with us," Derek said.

"Y/n," Spencer said, looking at her in search of answers.

But all he found was confusion on her face.

…

Y/n sat at the precinct while Spencer talked with Hotch, trying to understand what was happening. His heart beating faster with anger.

"Spencer, they found a body in the alley's trash behind her store," Hotch tried to explain.

"And? That doesn't mean she did it," he defended, "I-I've been with her these past days, and she didn't act weirdly. She's always in her store or at her aunties' house," Spencer explained.

Hotch stared at him, "Spencer, this is not the first time she or her family are accused of murder. The people from the town said once someone had an encounter with them and they died!"

"They are witches, Hotch! She told me the people from here didn't like them too much because of that."

"You might be right, you might be wrong, but she has to be interrogated first."

Spencer and Aaron looked at her as her aunties and her sister entered the precinct, going to her as they saw her.

"Oh honey," Aunt Frances said, hugging her, "They are making a horrible mistake."

"That's not why I'm worried, aunt Frances," Y/n spoke, looking at them.

"What is it, honey?" Aunt Jet spoke.

"Before this happened, Spencer and I were talking in the store, and a ladybug, that you know is a beetle as well, landed on my hand."

They stared at her, preoccupied, "Honey but… that only happens when you are in love with them and they with you. You aren't in love with him… are you?" Aunt Frances spoke.

Y/n couldn't answer. She just stared at them with glossy eyes, her eyes speaking what her mouth couldn’t, "oh darling," Aunt Jet said, hugging her.

"I'm scared, I-I don't want him to die, and I don't want to love him. Why does it has to be so difficult?" she sobbed.

Spencer looked at her from the conference room, his heartbreaking yet not knowing the reason why she was upset.

…

"Miss Y/L is, isn't it?" Morgan said, sitting in front of her.

"Yes, that's correct."

"How long have you had your store?"

"It has been in my family for so long, but we haven't opened it for a few years till two years ago."

"And why is that?"

"Complications. Um, the people from here used to break the windows."

Morgan frowned, "Why?"

"Because people keep hating on witches, sir."

Spencer crossed his arms, looking at her behind the window, even if she couldn't see him.

"What kind of witchcraft do you practice?"

"There's no name for it. It's something that has been in my family for centuries."

"I see."

"With all due respect, if you want to ask something, just do it."

"Did you kill Jimmy Angelov?"

Y/n chuckled, "Yeah, a couple of times."

Morgan breathed in, "Did you kill Jimmy Angelov?"

"I didn't. I didn't even know him. And if I did, do you think I would be dump enough to throw him behind the store?"

Morgan shook his head while Spencer covered his lips, trying to keep the laugh in. …

"She's not the unsub," Morgan said. Spencer left a sigh that had been choking him for so long.

"I told you," he said.

Alex took Y/n outside to meet her family. Spencer looked at her with a small smile, approaching her.

"Y/n," he softly spoke.

Y/n turned around to meet those precious eyes of him. Those she has been loving, "We'll wait outside," Gilly said, grabbing her aunties’ arms dragging them outside as they wanted to stay and hear what Spencer had to say.

When they finally left, Spencer spoke, "I'm sorry for what you had to go through."

"It's okay."

"D-do you think we can meet tomorrow, at the store?" He nervously played with his hands.

She sighed, That wasn't a good sign. Spencer thought, "I'm sorry, but I think we can't keep meeting."

Spencer frowned, his heartbreaking, "W-Why? Is it because of all of this? Y/n I swear I tried to talk them out of it, I know you, and I know you wouldn't be capable of doing such a thing, I-I tried to- "

"No, Spencer. It's not because of that. What would happen when you leave, huh? I don't think it is the right thing to keep meeting if we both know you will leave anyway."

It wasn't a lie, what she told him. But there was something else she was keeping in.

"We can try," he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Spencer."

She looked at him, giving him a small smile, and then, she left leaving Spencer broken,

 I'm so glad I've met you.

"I'm glad I've met you, too," he whispered.

…

Y/n was in a peaceful slumber until she felt something soft touching her forehead up and down, she softly tried to open her eyes to try and adjust to the light, and when she opened them, she saw her sister.

"Wakey Wakey," Gilly softly spoke.

Y/n heard laughter and music downstairs, "Hey," she spoke.

"I know you're sad about mister hot FBI agent and everything, but are you gonna reject that?"

"Reject what?" Y/n answered with confusion.

She, then, heard a blender on.

Y/n and Gilly looked at each other with a smile, "Midnight margaritas," they laughed and ran downstairs, softly dancing while they made their way down. Her aunties expected them at the end of the stairs with a glass full of margarita for both of them.

They started laughing and dancing around drinking their margaritas. They danced around the table, looking and pointing at each other.

Whoo-hoo, ain't there nothin' you can take? I say "Whoo-hoo-ooh to relieve your bellyache?" You say "Well whoo-hoo-ooh, ain't there nothin' I can take?" I say "Whoo-hoo-ooh, to relieve your bellyache?" You say "Yaa-ahh, ain't there nothin' I can take?" I say "Yaa-ahh, to relieve this bellyache?"

They sang, moving around.

As the song made its end, they sat at the table laughing and drinking shots of vodka," So this FBI agent, is he good?" Aunt Frances spoke, words blurry because of the alcohol in her system.

"Yeah, he was really good," Y/n spoke melancholic.

"Good enough for falling for a witch?" They all laughed.

"I don't know if he loved me," she said, laughing hysterically. Even though it hurt her, being with her family made the situation funny.

"This… this reminds me," Gilly said laughing, trying to speak properly, "Reminds me of the spell you did when you were young. He's just like the man you wrote, wouldn't it be funny you left him knowing he was your dream man?`` They laughed, but then the laughs stopped.

"Amas Veritas," Y/n murmured, standing up from the table, dropping the vodka on the floor, but she couldn't care. She made her way to the greenhouse, where spells were usually made.

She opened the door and looked everywhere for the book. "Fuck," she shouted when she hit her foot against the closet full of jars, but then, the book dropped from above, hitting her in the head. She bent down and took the book in her hands, looking for the page.

She founded it.

Her heart started beating faster.

Her legs trembled.

Her hands as well.

She dropped the book once again, her hands not being able to keep still, rapidly, she grabbed it once again, looking at the page.

He will hear my call a mile away.

He will be a marvellous kind.

He will have a job where he will be able to help other people.

He will understand what I want to say without saying it.

He will be smart. A genius even, with a high IQ.

He will make me laugh.

He will know how to play chess, and he will teach me.

His favourite crystal will be an Amethyst.

He will hear mismatched socks.

He will be tall with fluffy caramel hair, golden hazel eyes. He loves to read, and he will discuss theories with me.

And, he can read really fast.

"What is it?" The aunts came into the room.

Y/n turned around with glossy eyes, giving them the book. The three women read the words, "Is it…?" Aunt Jet asked.

She nodded, "It's Spencer."

"And what are you doing here, sweet girl? Go for him."

"But what if he dies either way? What If he left?"

"He hasn't," Gilly spoke.

"What?" Y/n said.

"They are still here."

"How do you know that?"

"I might or might not have the number of the SSA Derek Morgan, and I might or might not have stayed up all night talking to him."

They laughed, and they looked at Y/n, "Sweet girl," Aunt Frances said, taking her hand, "That spell you did was for your true love, and you said that if he came, he would not die… You have to try. Go for him!"

She smiled, grabbed the book and ran to go out, "Hey, hey, put shoes on," they yelled, but Y/n was outside already, with her mismatched socks.

And then, behind the roses, he was there, running to her as well. She smiled and ran faster. Spencer smiled, looking at her.

"Jump," he said.

She frowned, "What?"

"Jump!"

"This is not a romantic movie, Spencer," she laughed and stood there, in front of him. He stretched his hand to her, taking her hand into his, kissing it softly.

"This is for you," she said, handing him the book. He smiled, reading the pages.

Spencer looked up at her and handed her a piece of parchment. She took it and read it.

I don't believe in the law of attraction, and I'm not sure if I would ever fall in love with someone ever again. I don't want them to die as well.

But, if I'm not destined to be alone, these things would let me identify my person.

She must be smart and kind. She will have a beautiful smile and laugh. She will love books and crystals. She will wear mismatched socks so that I can identify her. She will understand me and hear my call a mile away. She will be funny. She will discuss theories with me, she won't think I'm weird, and she will have a black cat.

Y/n smiled, looking down at his feet, he was wearing a blue sock and the other orange, she smiled looking down at her feet, Spencer followed, one orange and one blue.

She finally looked at his hazel golden eyes, and he looked at her beautiful ones full of sparks, taking her cheeks in his warm hands and caressing them softly, "I asked for you too," he murmured before he dived into a passionate kiss, full of love, but mostly, full of magic.

[reidslovely]

Ways of a Man in Love (#1)

Gif Credit: @/toyboxboy

Prompt: Reader and Spencer return from a draining case for Reader. Wanting to make his love happy, Spencer takes (Y/N) self care in his own hands, showing them there are other ways to show love outside of sex.  A/N: I got this idea for this mini series based off of @/sonoanthonys response to ways to make love without dick. So each thing on that list will have its own one-shot.  Pairing: Spencer Reid/GN! Reader

Word Count: 1K Content Warnings: None I can think of? It’s pure fluff with a bit of agnst. Vague mentions of a case I guess? I’m not sure but if you find any please tell me! ----------------------------------------------------

Reactions to cases were always up in the air; sometimes one of them compartmentalized better than the rest. As a team it was their obligation to comfort their team members, but at the end of the night they didn’t have to go home with one another. They didn’t have to see the pain behind closed doors, when you’re home alone and tucked away in your bed. Except, Reid and (Y/N) did, the two had been dating for the past year and they’ve seen each other's bad moments. But, it’s never been like this; he waited for (Y/N) to say something to him. Anything really, but it was complete silence since they got onto the jet; he opted for holding them closer letting them know he was there to provide warmth and anything that (Y/N) may need. Lovingly, the lover rested their head against his shoulder and let their pain weigh on their own shoulders for a little while longer.

But now, they’d been home for a few hours, and Spencer had stayed his distance knowing that oftentimes it’s best for pain to be processed from a distance. However, it hurt; a lot. Sitting on the couch he flipped through his book, unable to focus on the novel in his hands, as he thought of more ways to help (Y/N). Getting up he snuck himself into the bathroom, peering at his partner tucked away in bed; their blanket pulled up to their chin. His heart swelled and he let out a small sigh before disappearing into the bathroom turning on the faucet. This was something that (Y/N) always did for him when he was struggling; they did it mostly the weeks after he returned from prison. It worked as a reconnection, a way for Spencer to know that they still cared and loved him no matter what happened. He especially loved it when they’d wash his hair, it was something so simple that made his mood lift.

“Love.” Spencer whispered, leaning over and kissing their temple sitting on the bed next to them. He smiled as they rolled over letting out a tired groan, smiling as they saw him. “Hi, I know you’re really tired but I ran a bath. You’ll feel better, I promise, come on.”

They seemed hesitant, and if (Y/N) had said no he’d understand and go unplug the tub and crawl back into bed with them. After a few minutes, (Y/N) pushed the blankets off and sat on the side of the bed. He smiles, taking their hand and leading them to the bathroom. Turning around he let them undress and slip into the warm water as he gathered up the shampoos and conditioners that sat in the basket on the counter. “Not getting in with me?”

There was a pout in their voice, but the sound of their voice finally filling the room put a smile onto his face. Spencer shook his head pulling up the tiny stool and sitting on it. His body was almost too long for the small seat, it drew a laugh out of (Y/N) who covered their mouth.

“Yeah, yeah. Very funny.” He teases, grabbing the cup filling it with water before pouring it over their hair. Using his hand to protect their eyes from the water, as they washed their face; before moving away he kissed their head. Reaching over for the shampoo, he squeezed some into his hand as they opened their mouth.

“Do you think I could have done better?” (Y/N) asked in a small voice, they looked at him with puppy dog eyes that broke his heart. Spencer bit the inside of his cheek, as he started lathering the shampoo into their hair; of course he thought they did their best. What happened wasn’t their fault.

“(Y/N), of course you did your best.” Spencer spoke with reassurance and confidence in his voice. “What happened wasn't your fault. Stuff..stuff like this just happens in our field sometimes. You know this.”

“I know, I know. But I can’t help but think maybe I could have prevented it.”

They sighed with closed eyes as Spencer poured water over their hair, working his fingers through their hair. He rang the water out before starting to lather in the conditioner looking at them, this was the most relaxed he’d seen them in hours, days even. (Y/N)’s little hum pulled him from his thoughts, he smiled a chuckle breaking through his chest.

“It feels so nice, I always forget how much I love this.”

“Yeah?” Spencer smiles, wiping the conditioner from his hands. Before grabbing their face in his hands, kissing them briefly. “I love you so much, you mean everything to me. Seeing you hurting is the worst thing ever. I would do everything and anything to see that smile.”

His thumb brushed over (Y/N)’s lips that were currently pulled upwards in the sweet smile that lit up his every waking moment. He let his thumb rest there, before (Y/N) pressed their lips to it. Closing their eyes, and nuzzling into his palm, a couple tears rolling down their cheeks. Spencer wiped them and kissed their head, pulling away to wash the conditioner out of their hair. He stepped out for a minute, to grab a change of clothes for them, while they finished up. As (Y/N) got out to get dressed, Spencer grabbed their brush and a couple hair products that go into his partner's hair. He sits on the bed excitedly, watching them walk out in his clothes. CalTech sweatshirt and his own boxers, he lets out a silent hum as they crawl between his legs. Pulling them back a bit he applies the product, before brushing through their hair.

“All done..” Spencer whispered, placing the brush on the nightstand, suddenly (Y/N) slumped against him. Spencer nodded, wrapping his arm around them, holding them to his chest as they fell asleep. “Goodnight, I love you.” He whispered before pulling the blankets up around them, and laying back not moving them from his chest.

[fandomlit]

hotch’s daughter (various!criminal minds x reader)

requested by anon “Hi lovey I loved your thing w/ the team and Rossi’s daughter and was wondering if you could do something like that but w/ Hotch’s daughter and they all try to flirt w/ her (girls included)? Thanks if you do”

summary hotch finally brings his oldest child in to meet the team, which starts a small rivalry for your affections throughout the day. but little did they know...

a/n for sure one of the longer things i’ve written but i promise, the end is worth it ;))

gif cred belongs to @toyboxboy​

rossi had been getting his ear talked off by spencer at the doctor’s desk when you walked in. he had been looking for an escape the last fifteen minutes without being too rude to the kid. then, he looked up and found the easy way out.

“hey, mrs. y/n,” he said, leaning away from the doctor to give you a smile. when the rest of the team looked up, they were met with the gorgeous sight of you balancing jack on your hip, your smile graceful and polite and stunning. 

“hello, rossi,” you greeted as he walked up to give you a kiss on the cheek. “any chance you can guide me to my dad?”

“of course,” rossi nodded, and you hooked your free arm with his as he started leading you up to hotch’s office while engaging in some small conversation.

“that’s hotch’s daughter?” emily said in partial shock, eyebrows raised.

“i didn’t know hotch had a daughter,” derek scoffed, eyes never leaving you.

they all watched you and rossi walk to your father’s office. you entered without knocking, giving your father a smile as rossi walked to his own office. “she’s incredibly beautiful,” spencer commented.

“that’s an understatement,” derek contributed.

“no doubt,” jj added. emily was still staring at the door with her mouth agape. jj looked over and scanned her friend’s expression. “you okay, emily?”

“i didn’t have enough time to profile her,” emily hummed to herself. “if i had a little more, i’d know if she was gay.” jj chuckled.

“well, let me know if you find out.”

after about thirty minutes of trying to get work done, the team all perked up when hotch’s door opened. he was chuckling at something you were saying, him now holding jack in his arms.

“team, this is my daughter, y/n,” hotch introduced finally. “and you all know jack.” you gave them a wave and a smile. “y/n, this is derek,” the man gave you a charming smirk, “jj,” the blonde smiled politely, “emily,” the girl wasn’t even attempting to hide her checking you out anymore, “and spencer,” the doctor gave you a shy wave.

“it’s lovely to meet you all,” you nodded. “good to know my father’s in good hands.” they chuckled as you gave them another smile. hotch’s phone rang and he sighed, giving you and them a nod before taking off down the hall with jack to a more private place.

“so, y/n,” you looked up to see jj had spoken, “why haven’t we met you yet?”

you gave them all a smile and leaned against an empty desk. “i moved out the second i turned eighteen and went to med school in california.” they gave you impressed looks. “yeah, full ride.” you gave them a wink that they couldn’t help but melt at. “but uh, after that i took an internship in san diego and didn’t move back until a month or two ago when i heard about the divorce.” they nodded with sympathy, but you simply shrugged in response.

“do you have a job up here yet?” derek asked politely.

you nodded. “oh, yeah. im a local m.a., not too far from where my dad lives. i figured it would be nice to be a part of my little brother’s life, you know?” they all nodded.

“how are you liking quantico?” emily asked, still giving you that flirtatious look that made you blush and smile shyly.

“it’s a beautiful town,” you nodded. “admittedly, i haven’t gotten to see too much of it yet, what with work and jack. but there’s plenty of time for that.”

“i’d love to show you around some time, if you’d like,” emily smiled. you blushed again, but before you could answer, hotch came back.

“all introduced?” he asked with a sigh. they all nodded. “great. get back to work.” he lead you back up to his office, where you gave emily a quick glance before shutting the door. the girl was biting her lip with a smile. she looked around to see the team all giving her incredulous looks.

“what? she’s cute.”

later that day, derek found you making two cups of coffee in the break room.

“someone’s got a sweet tooth,” he said, watching you pour a third packet of sugar in one of the mugs.

you giggled, looking up with a smile that he easily returned. “and that someone’s my dad.” he chuckled as you stirred the steaming liquid.

“so what was it like, growing up with aaron hotchner as your dad?” he asked, getting out a mug to make himself a cup. 

you shrugged, moving to pour some coffee in his cup without saying a word. he gave you a smile as thanks as you said, “he’s a good dad. little strict with all my high school boyfriends, of course, but otherwise he was comforting and very loving.”

“bet you had a lot of boyfriends in high school,” derek chuckled, taking a sip from his mug.

you gave him a smile. “bet you had a lot of girlfriends, derek.” something about the way you said his name made him feel cocky.

he shrugged. “what can i say?” you laughed with him before going to take your father his coffee.

“emily, right?” prentiss turned around to see you standing behind her desk with a small smile. she gave you a grin and nodded.

“prentiss.”

“emily prentiss,” you tried, walking closer to her. “i like it.”

she gave you a smile, leaning back in her chair as you perched on her desk. “has anyone told you you have very pretty eyes?” she inquired. you flushed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ears. “i’ll be the first to admit, im a little curious of you, y/n.” you tilted your head. “i just think there’s a lot i could get to know about you.”

“well,” you drawled, “you are a profiler.” she let out a small laugh. “profile me, emily.”

she looked you over with a smile. “you wear a ring on your right ring finger. at passing glance, someone may think ‘sure, she’s taken’ but in reality, it’s common in people who are dedicated to their jobs.” you looked down at the small silver band as she continued, “and speaking of your job, i get the sense that you went into the medical profession because of your dad, right?”

“yeah,” you confirmed, still smiling gently. “got sick and tired of seeing him all beat up.”

“so when you felt powerless over that as a child, you wanted to make sure you weren’t powerless when you were an adult,” she concluded. she gave you a look. “good enough?”

“perfect,” you complimented. she was about to propose that date again when your father called you over.

“y/n, can you come watch jack?”

“yeah,” you said, standing from emily’s desk and smoothing out your skirt. “i’ll talk to you later, emily.”

she watched you walk away with a confident smile.

you had been sitting in hotch’s office with the door cracked, holding jack as he slept in your arms. you had a book in one hand and your other supporting your sleeping brother whehn jj had peeked in to give hotch some paperwork. with your father nowhere in sight, she was greeted by that pure sight instead.

“you know,” jj started, walking into the room and grabbing your attention, “they say there’s something to be said about women who are good with children.”

“do they?” you hummed as she placed a stack of papers onto hotch’s desk. she gave you a smile and a nod. “then im sure there’s something to be said about women who are communication liaisons, no?”

“im sure there is,” she hummed as she walked out of the room, leaving you with a smile as you returned to your book.

“i think im gonna ask her out,” derek nodded, sitting on the edge of jj’s desk near the end of the day.

“like hell,” emily scoffed, sauntering over with her arms crossed. “remember when i already did this morning?”

“and did she give you an answer?” derek shot back. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”

“maybe we shouldn’t be trying to go for our boss’s daughter at all,” jj proposed. they all considered as penelope came walking up, a file in her hands.

“who? y/n?” the computer tech questioned. they all confirmed. penelope shrugged, “well, it’s too late for that.” they all gave her a questioning look. she simply pointed toward hotch’s office. they all followed her finger.

they watched reid walk up and give you a quick kiss and smile. their jaws dropped as he slid an arm around your waist and you lifted your purse onto your shoulder. you both started down toward the doors, where you would have to pass the team in the process.

“thanks for the warm welcome today, guys,” you said, giving them all smiles. spencer smirked unbearably at your side, absorbing the glares and shocked looks of his coworkers and friends. “i really appreciate it.”

they all nodded and muttered. spencer stopped right after you had walked past them. “oh, here, i forgot something.” he handed you the keys to the car. “you go start the car, i’ll be out in a second.” you nodded and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

spencer turned around and quickly went to his desk, opening a drawer and taking out a small jewelry box, which they saw was fit for a nice necklace. as he walked past the team he said, “night, guys.” they were no longer looking at him. just as he passed them, he turned again, “oh, and one last thing.” they looked up to meet his smirk. “checkmate.”

[may-b-a-u-shewritestoo]

ADDICTION (Spencer Reid x GN!Reader)

18+ MINORS DNI

Gif; @toyboxboy

Summary: A little something something based off of Addiction by Doja Cat. An angsty smutty something that I randomly threw together. Voila.

Warnings; penetrative sex (no mention of specific genitals for reader), fingering (again no specific mention of anything in particular), use of the name Daddy, choking, hair-pulling

Word count; only 1.2k!

✨✨✨✨✨

I’ve got such a pretty body,

Hands trailing up your thighs, hips swaying side to side; the ultraviolet glow of the neon lights hung against the wall hit your skin perfectly. The eyes burning into you from the plush velvet loveseat opposite sent a heat that settled between your legs. He sat with his legs spread, hands resting on his thighs. Watching. Hungry. Your eyes closed as you felt the rhythm take over. Fingertips dancing over the lace bodysuit that just covered the parts of you he desperately wanted to feel, you could almost feel the jealous tension in the air.

Feels prettier when I’m a mess.

Tiny whimpers left your throat as you ground down onto his thigh, the muscle flexing beneath you. The rough grip of his fingers gripping your ass as he pulled you down harder made your eyes roll into your head. His other hand stroked up your body, snaking around your throat and squeezing to get your attention.

Just managing to keep your eyes on him long enough to watch him biting his lip, the familiar numbness of the start of what would be your first orgasm crept in and spread down to your toes. The hand on your hip came up quickly to grip at your hair and tug a little as his lips met yours. He smiled against them before he pulled away and nodded up at you, permission essentially pointless as you began to fall over the edge regardless.

I just like to call him Daddy, ‘cause the first one he up and left.

‘Oh my go- fuck Daddy it won’t stop-‘ The pulsing grew and grew as two of his fingers slid inside you. It should’ve died down by now, you thought to yourself as the height of your orgasm stayed at the same intensity, ‘I can’t stop, please, please-‘ Begging for nothing and growing reckless on his lap, he remained calm and confident; although his actions were the opposite. Pressing and thrusting fast and rough against that one spot, he chuckled at your responsiveness; his other arm wrapping around your waist and holding you close as you finally came down from the strongest high you’d experienced in a while. ‘I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you. Doing so good.’

You can relate to broken girls,

The way you trembled against his chest set off some sort of instinct in him to hold you tighter. You were overwhelmed in the best way and craved reassurance and warmth he was more than happy to provide. “Are you okay my love? You did so amazing for me.” His words were gentle, soft and full of kindness as you mustered up the strength to sit up and meet his eyes. “I’m okay Daddy. Tired though.” He wanted desperately to tell you not to call him that now you were done, but you were in a sleepy kind of sub drop you hadn’t been in before. “I’m proud of you baby.” he muttered softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. All you knew was he made you feel good - fucking good - and now he was taking care of you.

I’ve been a day without it, I’m proud of myself,

“We land soon. I don’t know when I’ll be able to call, but-“

“It’s okay Spencer. I’ll see you whenever. It was good to see you yesterday.”

The second the call ended you let out a deep breath and attempted to stop your brain from overthinking everything. The way you completely submitted to him everytime you met up, but he would barely hold a conversation with you otherwise made you tense. But not today. You heard guilt in his voice. Guilt instead of the usual tones of regret. He knew how you felt about him, how much you saw him for more than ‘Daddy’ when he was around you. But you still couldn’t figure out if he felt the same. You hadn’t whined down the phone this time though, you’d kept your cool. Taken the upper hand and left it casual. Pride ripped through your body as you turned your phone off completely.

Baby can you break the curse?

10 days. It had been long enough since you saw him and there had been one phone call in total. Spencer had turned the conversation explicit within 3 minutes, after you tried to ask him to dinner when he got home. Nonetheless he still came to pick you up the day after he got home. The dinner was nice, but there was an air of tension that you hadn’t felt before. Romantic maybe? Or so you hoped. He looked at you like you were treasure found on a deserted island, like you were the most rarest thing to walk the earth. This was new. Usually you could only read lust in his eyes, a starvation in his body language whenever you were near him. You’d changed something in him, or maybe he’d changed something since he last saw you. A realisation.

I’m still gonna believe in magic.

Laying underneath him on his couch, your hands gripped at his hair and his shoulders as he pushed as deep as he could inside you.

“God I missed you baby.” He grunted into your ear. “I missed you Daddy.” Moaning out as he curved upwards and bit your neck. Slowing down his hips and pulling his head back to look down at you, Spencer kissed the tip of your nose before your lips. “You’re so beautiful. You know that? So beautiful.” When you whimpered in response and arched your back into him, squeezing around his cock; his head fell back into the crook of your neck and he sped up. “Fuck, I - please Daddy-“ The same dull throbbing that Spencer was so good at bringing out of you began, and you muttered incoherent noises as you tippled over the edge. Bucking your hips up and spasming around him he let out a deep groan as he felt his own orgasm intensify and peak. “Oh my god, I fucking love you.” He grunted through gritted teeth, body collapsing onto yours with exhaustion.

✨

You were in shock. That was everything you needed to hear and it sent the equivalent of fireworks through your veins, warmth through your chest and pins and needles in your fingers that could only be described as a magnetic urge to hold Spencer closer. But before you could, he separated your sticky bodies and sat up to regain composure; exhaling shakily. Running his hands through his hair, he looked over at you to find you staring in surprise.

“What? Are you okay love?”

“Do you mean it?” you didn’t take your eyes off his, even when he seemed confused and realisation hit his face.

“Oh, I uh, I was just you know, in a moment kind of thing..” Spencer looked away and grew awkward, his body language reading as deceptive and suspicious as the people he interrogated daily. Something wasn’t right.

“Spencer.”

The silence was deafening as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

“Spencer. Please.”

His eyes met yours, and they were filled with remorse and pain. “I can’t. I’m not - I’m not capable. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

You left quicker than you thought possible, collecting anything and everything that you’d accumulated in his home. He was capable. You could help him feel it. You could help him love. But that wasn’t your responsibility. He knew it before you did. But the thing about addiction is the reward may only be temporary, while the consequence is permanent.

[qslovebot]

thinking about how if I go to subway and order a six-foot sub, they won't give me Spencer Reid...

gif creds: toyboxboy <3

[juniorgman187]

The Boy Next Door (Spencer Reid Imagine)

gif credits @toyboxboy​ Summary: The boy next door falls in love with the girl next door. Need I say more? Category: Fluff, Angst Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid  Content Warning: Death, unrequited love, heartbreak Word Count: 10.4k A/N: POV switches from Spencer to Reader indicated by “᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Ground coffee, dates, and greek yogurt, all neatly encased in a brown paper bag. 

Those were the things I was holding the day I first met you.

(You should know that I wouldn’t tamper with any of the moments that I’ve been so fortunate to have with you - I’ve watched enough “Dr. Who” to know that tampering with the past, even changing the smallest thing, could drastically affect the future). But if I could, I would probably change the precarious position you found me in that day. 

When you exited your apartment, I had my knee hiked up embarrassingly high to support the weight of my groceries from underneath, leaving me to balance on one leg while the bag wobbled on my thigh as I ransacked my pocket for my keys. By the time you came out, I had been like this for the past few minutes, and if the task wasn’t already harder than it should’ve been to accomplish, you didn’t make it any better.

You walked out of the door in that wispy skirt and a denim jacket that swallowed your torso whole; your unwieldy boots clunked against the wood floors of our hallway. You even didn’t bother locking your door behind you after leaving - that’s how trusting you were. While I must admit, I found the action, or lack thereof, to be quite naive, it was endearing, too. 

I, for one, am a firm believer that actions are indicative of character and from what I gathered: you trust easily, and at times, in a misguided manner.

After several seconds of being in your gravity, I figured you earnestly hadn’t seen me, given the fact that not once had you looked up from your phone to acknowledge my presence. Not to mention, your headphones were buried in your ears, blocking out any noise I could’ve been making with my unsteady stance or seemingly unfindable keys that would’ve, otherwise, made you known of my existence. Your music was so loud I could hear it from where I stood, clear as day. 

Still don’t know how you haven’t gone deaf yet, (y/n). One of life’s greatest mysteries, I suppose. 

It would be a gross understatement to claim that I couldn’t take my eyes off you. It was more than that. I felt entranced by you, like I was under your spell. Your perfume was poison, wafting through the hallway as you walked past me to descend the flight of stairs. I was in raptures from the way your wired earbuds got tangled with your hair. Normally, I couldn’t bear the thought of sharing headphones with someone, but I’d do it in a heartbeat with you. 

I’d do a lot of things with you, actually.

I had to stop myself from trailing your movements when you reached a space in the hall directly behind me, and even then, my actions only ceased because my head couldn’t physically turn that far to watch you. 

It was then that I recalled owls and how they’ve evolved into creatures that can turn their head a complete 180 degrees. Of course, that’s a trait meant for survival, merely an adaptation that allows them to detect danger or predators, but I wasn’t watching a predator, and I suppose that’s precisely why I wasn’t given the ability to turn my head so far. Because it was you I was watching - the girl next door (literally and figuratively) - nothing remotely close to a threat. I’d never been jealous of owls before, but in that moment, I wished nothing more than to be one just so I could get another look at you. 

I forced myself to resume my unfinished task out of fear that you might finally notice me and become alarmed by my prolonged staring. Once more, I was sorting through the pocket of my pants for the key to unlock my door. Behind me, your foot was about to land on the next step of the stairwell, but instead, it quickly retreated at the sound of my groceries hitting the floor.

If there was ever a doubt in your head that you caused the collapse of my paper bag’s contents, there shouldn’t be.

It was you. It was all you.

I was too distracted by your poisonous scent and chunky boots to even notice my groceries struggling to balance on the precipice.

When I ascertained the mess I had made - the mess I knew you could hear even through your cacophonous music - I wanted nothing more than to find my keys and disappear into my apartment to mask the immediate shame I was feeling. My mind spun into a panic, my body incapacitated from the shock, and the first thing I could think to do was abandon my spilled groceries in the hall so you might not see me before I fled, but you were too quick. Your heart of gold made it impossible for that to be achieved.

“Oh my goodness, here! Let me help you.”

You knelt to the ground before I could even register your sudden presence and the lack of distance between us, let alone comprehend that your warm voice was speaking words meant for me.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ve got it.”

If you thought I was pushing you away, you should know that those weren’t my intentions. I was only emphasizing my ability to do it alone so that you might leave me to my devices - a state of conditions where I could actually think. With you so close, I simply couldn’t do that. Even now, it’s still an uphill battle to talk to you with a clear head.

“No, please. I insist. I’ve got plenty of time.” You assured me, tucking back strands of your hair that got in the way of your sight. I wondered then what it’d be like to do that to you myself. The vision ended there. 

“A Teenager In Love” by Dion and the Belmonts cut into my thoughts. That’s the song that was playing on your headphones. And that’s exactly what I felt like.

A teenager in love.

It was also the song you paused to give your undivided attention to me.

“I’m (y/n), by the way. I live right next door. 3B.” You informed me, as if I hadn’t just come to that same conclusion when I observed you walk out of that door only moments ago. You extended your hand into the air between us for a handshake. I wasted no time returning it.

“Spencer.”

You batted your eyelashes and looked up at me with those unassuming doe eyes. 

God, were you doing that on purpose? Were you trying to kill me?

When our hands interlocked, I couldn’t help but notice how yours fit so perfectly in mine, like it was made-to-measure. It led me to the belief that my hands were specifically fashioned for the particular use of holding yours. The shake lingered for a second longer than necessary, and I saw it in the way your eyes flickered down to where our bodies met, wondering why it was taking me so long to pull away.

“It’s nice to meet you, Spencer.” 

I’ve never liked my name so much until I heard it on your tongue. It made me forget all about the mess and the shame and the fear of disturbing you. That is until I saw you sliding the last of my groceries back into the paper bag.

“I’ll see you later then?”

You had stood up before I could ask you not to go, wiping your knees of any dust they might’ve collected on the floor where you knelt in front of me.

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.” I dumbly answered back, watching you descend the stairs from a distance once more.

“Have a nice night, Spencer!” I heard you say before you disappeared below the ground that I stood on. You already had your headphones back in and were long gone before I could return the sentiment. I did want you to have a nice night, though. Even if I didn’t say it in time. 

Then again, I guess there was a lot I didn’t say in time - right, (y/n)?

Two days went by before I saw you again. 

You weren’t alone.

I was reading when I heard the sound of footsteps outside my door, unintentionally giving me full liberty to hear the conversation partaking as well.

“What’s his name?” Your friend asked you.

Originally, I was adamant about not purposefully eavesdropping - no matter how tempting it was or how amply I could hear. You deserved better than that ...  but how could I help myself when I heard you answer your friend, “Spencer.”

It was the sound of my own moniker that lured me to the door, where I pressed my ear against it.

“Is he cute?”

“Very.” You gushed to her, my own heart swelling two sizes too big for my poor chest to contain.

“Do you want to fuck him?” Your friend giggled. You hesitated to speak. “Oh my god, have you already fucked?”

“No!” You defensively screeched.

“But you’ve thought about it!”

“Will you lower your voice? He lives right there! What if he hears you?”

I peeked through the peephole to spy on this encounter, brainlessly ducking down when I saw you eyeing my door curiously. After I finally slowed down the cadence of my heart, the realization dawned on me that you couldn’t possibly have been able to see me from the outside view of my peephole, but it still felt like you had; your eyes pierced through my soul, bewitching my body and soul.

Luckily for you - unluckily for me, I suppose - you and your friend vanished into your apartment before I could hear the rest of that conversation. I didn’t need to, though. What I heard was enough to keep me up all night. Had I heard anything more, I’m not sure how many more hours of sleep I would’ve lost just thinking about you. 

Hours I could’ve spent reading. Hours I could’ve spent writing. Hours I could’ve spent, but time that I would never take back. Not for anything in the world.

Our next interaction took place the following week. 

It was 5 a.m and Hotch had called us all in early, so I was already out the door before the sun was up, but evidently, not before you were up. Because when I left my apartment, there you were, lingering in the doorway, leaning against - what I had to assume was - your very much unlocked front door. 

“Oh!” You flinched and gasped, while ripping the headphones out of your ears. “You scared me, Spencer.”

“Good morning to you, too, (y/n).” I quipped, puckering my lips slightly to reduce the immense size of my zealous smile before grinning back at you again, this time with a much smaller smile - one much less discouraging. 

You were exactly what I needed to see to make my morning better, and your hair in a ponytail and your black leggings only made the view that much sweeter.

“What are you doing up so early?” You had asked me inquisitively.

“I got called into work.”

“Oh.” 

You sounded so disappointed, and I couldn’t help but feel that I’d just let you down. The pout of your lips and deflation of your shoulders only solidified that.

It was then where I should’ve left you alone and gone to work, which I was already considerably late for, but I couldn’t help myself. I would’ve worried about you all day if I hadn’t asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” You tried to wave me away down the staircase, but I knew better than to leave. You understood my maintained foothold as a silent communication that I wouldn’t walk away unless you told me what was bothering you so you reluctantly gave in.

“Well, honestly, I’ve been standing out here since like 4:30, trying to convince myself to go on a run, but ... I’m actually kind of scared to. I just, I don’t know if I feel safe running alone in the dark.” 

You never met my eyes, they were only fixated on the earbud cord you were rolling between your fingers to make brief circles in the air. 

“You know what?”

From those words alone, you perked back up. 

“I’m already late, so I can ... I’ll run with you. If you want.”

In seven little words, I managed to gain all your trust. That’s all it took for you to never be ashamed of your feelings in front of me. You trusted me to always respond to your vulnerability like this, and I knew then, what the weight of having your trust felt like. I could never wish to break it.

Your joy was so uncontainable to the point where you were emboldened enough to show me your appreciation through a hug so big that I couldn’t understand how your petite body was capable of supporting something of its size. You wrapped your arms around my neck, pulling me down to your height despite already balancing on the tips of your toes. I had to remind myself not to indulge in your embrace too much, otherwise I might never have let you go.

Your hair smelled like a certain flower my mother used to put in a vase on our dining table. It’s the same flower that she grows in the garden of her assisted living home at present. It’s such a distinct scent - magnolias - I’ll never forget. But now whenever I pass those beloved magnolias during my visitations, the flowers from my childhood dining room won’t be what I associate it with anymore. 

You’ll be what I think of.

I was met with the cruel reminder of what I’d agreed to when you left my arms. There’s not much I dislike in this world as much as exercise, but for you - I’d run to the ends of the earth. I mean that.

“You’re my hero!” You exclaimed when we reached our apartments again after that treacherous run, which felt more like a marathon and a half to me.

I would’ve said something back, but I was still trying to catch my breath, even folding over my bent knees to stop myself from panting so hard. For a moment there, I was sincerely upset that you weren’t nearly as breathless as I was. Were you just that perfect in every conceivable way? Not even a semblance of windedness from the miles and miles we just ran? 

How unfair. Have pity on my poor soul.

“I had so much fun. We should do that again sometime.” You added.

Again, I would’ve responded to your exclamation, but I was still very much out of breath. You didn’t seem to mind, though. You even offered me a sip of your water. I politely declined, which I meant as no insult. I only refused because I would not have been able to handle the effects of tasting you on it.

Thankfully, I’d caught my breath before the next time we encountered each other. This time I could actually speak. 

It was two in the morning and I’d just come home from an exhausting case, feeling more ready to sink into the depths of my bed than ever. Almost the entire way up the stairs, I was lethargically dragging my feet up each step to get to my apartment ... until I saw you. 

“Hey, it’s you! 2B.” 

Like a siren singing to a ship of sailors, your voice called out to me from the top stair, shocking me when I came around the corner - a most welcome surprise. 

“Hey.” I cooed back softly.

Despite my mind firing impulses to run to you, my feet weren’t listening. I was stopped in my tracks by the mere sight of you.

It wasn’t lost on me that the bags under my eyes were probably heavier and darker than they ever had been before, and that my hair was in complete shambles from where I’d run my fingers through them in distress one too many times, and that my loosened tie that hung from the collar of my skirt looked disheveled, but you? You were still a radiant view to behold, even at 2 a.m. especially at 2 a.m. The sight of you shocked my onerous heart like a defibrillator on bare skin, reigniting my entire being. 

I could finally breathe again. 

My posture straightened, my head raised, and my smile returned. You looked just as excited to see me as I was to see you and it was such a warm feeling.

“So where have you been at this hour, young man? Your girlfriend’s?” 

I should’ve noticed then the way you slurred your words together, but I think I was blinded by the bliss of being able to see right through you for the first time. 

I could see that you were compensating. You wanted to look happy for me in the event that I did have a girlfriend, but underneath, you were morbidly curious, desperately hoping that I didn’t. For you, I chose the more merciful option - giving into your clandestine concern so as not to torture you any longer with the fear that I was in a relationship.

“I -” My own mirthless chuckle cut into my sentence. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

And I saw it - I saw the look of relief on your face.

“I was at work,” I honestly told you, my feet resuming their climb up the stairs. “So, why are you still up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

By the time you answered, I’d reached the top step where you were perched, wearing that big flannel. It devoured your figure, the collar of the shirt hanging off your shoulders, the cuffs of the sleeves stretching way past your hands, the hem of the shirt falling at your thighs. That’s all you were wearing for pajamas, just a big shirt, not even shoes or socks to cover your feet from the shiny Merbau floors. It took all of me not to fasten one more of the flannel’s buttons to protect your modesty, but really, who was I protecting you from? Guys just as perverse and impure as me? 

My jaw tensed as a reminder to myself not to wonder about what was underneath the flannel, or what wasn’t. 

You shifted from the middle of the stair to the side, making room for me to sit beside you. Our proximity enabled me to notice your usual scent of magnolias was replaced with something much less agreeable - a scent that didn’t suit you.

Liquor.

At the exact moment I looked down at your face to locate the signs of intoxication, you’d taken it upon yourself to rest your head on my shoulder, blocking my view. I knew it wasn’t your intention to hide your face from me, but it was hard to believe that you were doing this just to get closer to me. Was it the alcohol that stole your inhibitions and unearthed the confidence to touch me further? Was this what you had wanted to do all this time but couldn’t without liquid courage? And I wonder, even with a calmer disposition created by liquor, were you still feeling first time nerves? Or were you the luckier of the two of us, fortunately avoiding the agony of a racing heart?

“So what’s keeping you up?” My voice croaked, trying to maintain a nonchalant attitude to your otherwise intimidating actions.

“This stupid guy.”

At first, I was sure that you were talking about someone else, and I prepared my weary heart to listen to you pour your soul out about ‘this stupid guy’ to me, but then I got smarter and recalled the conversation that took place not too long ago, the one that kept me up all night.

Was I the ‘stupid guy?’

“Tell me about him.”

“He’s ... he’s so tall.” You had laughed. “And he’s got this great smile. He’s super nice, too. But he’s the kind of guy that you can’t really figure out, but you want to, you know what I mean?”

I trained my eyes to stay forward and not look at you so that your resting head might not be disturbed by the action, but I wanted to look at you. I wanted to see those micro-expressions and read your face. I needed to know if you were talking about me.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“If he were any other guy, I’d be upfront with him, but this guy ... he’s different. He scares me, and his rejection scares me even more,” You went quiet for longer than a second and this time I actually did have to move my head to check on you in case you’d suddenly passed out. But when I went to look down at you, I was met with the shocking view of those batted eyelashes and big doe eyes again.

“What do you think I should do, 2B?”

I knew it. Those eyes can’t lie to me.

You were talking about me.

“I think you should tell him how you feel. You might be surprised.”

“Yeah …” Your voice faded out when you replaced your head on my shoulder. “Maybe.”

“He might feel the same way.” I whispered.

“You think so?”

“I do.”

“How do you know?”

It took me a moment to gather the right answer, but even with as extensive a vocabulary as I was equipped with, every single word in it was failing me. Though ultimately unsatisfactory, the only thing I could manage to say that was honest and quaint was, “He’d be crazy if he didn’t.”

The air was still. Not a word from either of us. Not even a peep, until the sounds of your snores revealed the true cause of the silence - you’d fallen asleep, and most likely before I had found it in me to confess my feelings. I smiled still, though. At least you’d finally gone to sleep.

Without another thought, I slid my hand under your knees with the other hand at the small of your back to lift you off the stairwell and carry you back to your apartment. And no surprise to me when all I had to do was press my arm against the door to open it.

You never do lock that thing, do you?

As I entered your apartment, I did my best not to gape at the surroundings, for it felt like an invasion of privacy without your verbal consent willingly granting me the permission to do so. I quickly located the bedroom using only the profound knowledge of my own apartment’s configuration that, for obvious reasons, identically matched yours. I made sure to sit you upright against your pillows in the event that you choked on your vomit, but I held high hopes that you weren’t so inebriated as to have that come into fruition.

When it came time to leave you, I had to slip my hands out from under your body. I attempted to perform this action with the utmost caution, but I think the coarseness of my hands gliding against your velvet skin made it impossible not to feel. You shivered at my touch, waking ever so slightly. 

“Spencer?” You asked in your sleep. 

“Shh, it’s okay. Go back to sleep.” I spoke softly, stroking your hair so it might soothe you back to sleep. This alone felt like a pure moment, but it was much sweeter when your small hand wrapped around my wrist while you placed your other one on top of mine. You leaned your face into my palm and gently shut your eyes, trying to maximize your ability to feel my touch. I even saw a smile come upon your face. 

“Will you stay with me?” You whispered against my skin. 

I couldn’t say no, sweet girl. 

I stayed with you for two hours while you slept. I wanted to ensure that you were safe, but I knew that I shouldn’t stay the night. Not because I couldn’t trust myself, but because I was worried that you wouldn’t remember asking me to stay the night before. Honestly, I preferred that you woke up with no recollection of that night. Because while watching you sleep to fulfill your request, I was also experiencing the deepest regret of my life.

If I told you how I felt a second sooner, maybe you would’ve heard me and that night would’ve ended very differently.

I suppose that was our ‘missed chance #1.’

To be quite honest, that night did discourage me, and I made a conscious effort to avoid you in days to follow. I wish I could rationalize my behavior here, but I doubt that any explanation will suffice so I’ll settle for the truth.

I thought avoiding you would make the regret go away, and I hoped my feelings would leave with it. But if anything, the longing I felt to see you again, the urge for fate bring us back together, only made my infatuation greater.

As luck would have it, not even my most extravagant attempts to avoid you would work.

I had heard it from the first floor where I was getting my mail, a strangely familiar sound - the sound of knocking. It was growing more and more desperate with each step I took up the stairs and once I finally reached the top, I found the cause of this noise at last. It was you - knocking at my door.

“(Y/n)?”

You turned over your shoulder; your furrowed brows and disgruntled appearance faded at the sight of me.

“2B! I was wondering where you were. Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

It had only been 9 days, (y/n), but yes, I suppose it did feel like forever.

I responded with an answer I always seemed to give you, an answer you seemed to already anticipate. 

“Work.”

“Mmm, it always is work, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah …” I sheepishly agreed, looking down to avoid your scrutinizing gaze. It was easier to let you believe work is what kept me away from you, and not the insatiable craving to be with you, but I could feel you sensing my lie.

“Well, I hope you’re not busy on December 21st.”

“What’s December 21st?”

“My going away party.”

My stomach dropped; my heart stopped, and I think I could actually feel the lump in my throat solidify into a pit.

“Going away party?”

“Yeah, I’m going home for the holidays, back to Oregon so I can visit my dad for a while and um …” 

I saw the same look on your face that I saw all those days ago when you admitted you didn’t feel safe running alone. The fearful one, where you knew you had to gather the courage to be vulnerable. When you looked back up at me, I wish I would’ve seen those doe eyes, but no. Your eyes were bloodshot and filled with tears. 

“I think, I think it might be his last Christmas, so I, I got an open-ended ticket just so I can -”

I didn’t want you to explain any more to me if you couldn’t bear it. “Of course. That makes perfect sense.” 

“I’m not really sure when I’m coming back, so I wanted to have a little get together with my friends before I leave. And I was really hoping you’d be able to come. If you’re not busy with work, of course.”

How could I say no?

“I’ll be there.”

You sighed in relief and smiled at me in thanks. “Perfect. Thank you.”

You turned on your heels and vanished into your unlocked apartment before I could offer a hug, but I think even if I did have the chance, it wouldn’t have been enough to heal the hurt that penetrated deep within your soul. That was a pain, I couldn’t fix - no one could.

December 21st came faster than I imagined, and in no time at all, I was standing outside your unlocked door, trying to gather the confidence to enter.

I wore my best suit and tie specifically to impress you, but even if I was decorated with the finest silks, I still wouldn’t have looked as golden as you. Your neck, ears, and fingers were embellished with gold jewelry that sparkled ever so slightly under the pale yellow light of your apartment. You had styled your hair differently than I’d ever seen it, and I felt like I was seeing you for the first time all over again.

“You look …” Heavenly. Dazzling. Magnificent. “Breathtaking.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, 2B.” You drew closer, filling my senses with your poisonous perfume. 

“I especially like this tie.”

God help me when you walked your fingers up my tie. It took everything not to shudder at the sensation. I gulped to replenish my dry mouth while I stared into your eyes. Don’t ask me how I did it, but I found the willpower to break away from your hypnotizing gaze. 

“So,” I cleared my throat. “Where’s everyone else?” With these words, I walked away to catch my breath by your dining table, unintentionally abandoning you in the living room. In response, you sort of laughed, which made me concerned. 

“I actually asked you to come an hour earlier than everyone else.” To my quizzical brow, you answered, “I told my friends about you.”

You can imagine the butterflies in my stomach from the joy of you telling me that. “You did?”

“They had a bunch of questions for me, but I told them to save them for tonight since you were coming. I just thought we could have, like, a pre-party-run-through of what to say.”

“Got it.”

You were shocked at my willingness. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

The only person that I think is crazy, is the person that doesn’t admire you as deeply as I do, (y/n). 

In no time at all, we were sitting on your couch, facing each other, while playing a speed round of 21 questions. 

Here, we discovered our shared hobby of reading, you unearthed my job as a profiler (not without asking a million questions about it after), and I came to the realization of just how hopelessly devoted to you I was after a three-word question.

“Future baby names?” You casually asked. To say that that one caught me off guard would be the understatement of the year. 

“Future baby names?” I repeated; my cheeks flushed while I felt you anxiously waiting for an answer. Your eyes were expectant and the large gulp I took was just a means to stall time until I finally whispered, “Harper.”

You were silent for a second and I felt the need to explain myself. “I don’t know why, probably because of Harper Lee, but I just like the name.”

The biggest grin crept its way onto your face. “Shut up.” 

“What?”

“Shut up because that name is literally on my list!” You squealed delightfully. 

Truthfully, ever since that faithful first day I met you, I deliberately refused to let myself imagine a future with you, but after December 21st - that’s all I could do. All thanks to your “baby names” question. Would you believe that the first time we ever truly hung out, you were reading off all your favorite baby names and giving me a thorough description of why you liked each one? That seems like only a thing we’d do - after all almost every experience we had together was unconventional to some degree. 

That one hour of private bonding came and went, and soon enough, I was surrounded by the closest people in your life. And somehow, your boundless love made me feel like I was part of that close circle, too - like I always had been. 

First to greet me was April, your roommate in college. I recognized her voice instantly, recalling it as the one I heard outside my door all those nights ago. I tried not to smile at the memory of her crude question, “Do you wanna fuck him?” 

Arriving only seconds after her was Marty, short for Martin, and he’s Drew’s boyfriend. Drew worked with you at the grocery store, which was your first real job during college. 

After Drew and Marty, came Jillian and Janelle, twin sisters you met in your “Introduction to Psychology” class, a class you thought you would end up hating, but you actually ended up loving. 

“So, Spencer, what’s up with you and (y/n)?” 

I knew the question was bound to come up, and it came as no surprise to me that April was the one to be asking it. After the conversation I overheard weeks ago, I came to the discovery that she is someone who is all but forthright. Given the fact that this was the singular opportunity to catch me alone, since I was practically attached at your hip the entire night, April wasted no time in jumping at the opportunity to back me into a corner at my most vulnerable.

“We’re just friends.” I said through a cheeky smile that surely gave me away. The lie stung my tongue as it passed through my teeth, and I knew it was impossible to have fooled her.

“(Y/n) would kill me if she knew I told you this, but I’ve known her since she was 17, and I have never seen her light up the way she did when she was talking about you. Sometimes I catch her just smiling out of nowhere, and I have to think that you’re the reason why.” 

At the moment, my expressions were a completely separate entity from my mind because I could not control the grin that crept onto my face and I had no control over the minimization of it either. No matter how hard I tried to reduce it, it was impossible.

“Ever since her dad got sick, she’s been a different girl. But tonight, I think I finally have my old friend back again ... Thank you.” 

April’s pursed lip smile, in any other exigence, could be seen as insincere or facetious, but here, I knew it was a smile of gratitude and thanks. As April left my gravity, you were simultaneously entering it with a sly grin on your face. 

“What were you two talking about?” 

“You.” 

“Me?” Your voice heightened in pitch as you pretended to be shocked. “What about me?”

“Just about how much we both really like you.” 

“Oh, is that so?” 

“Indeed, it is so.” 

You came closer, wrapping your arms around my waist to draw me in nearer. You had your head cocked all the way up to look at me with those once again, batted eyelashes and doe eyes. 

“Well, I really like you too, 2B. And so do all of my friends.” 

A genuine laugh escaped me as I pushed you away from me and nudged you backward so we could integrate with the rest of the party again. It was all a charade to get you to look away from my visible joy. In the back of my mind lied the thought about what April said about your dad and how different you became following his diagnosis, but I knew better than to bring that up here, right now.

Once we immersed ourselves back into the group, I found you being even touchier with me. You would lock your arm around mine, or lie your head on my shoulder. Even while we were sitting on the couch, you were practically on my lap. I don’t think you were intentionally being so coquettish, but if you were - it was pure evil. Especially, when you left my lap to answer a call in the other room. 

I deliberately tried not to stare into the room you wandered in so that I could look as present in the moment with your friends as possible, for it would’ve been rude both to ignore them and to invade your privacy, but I could see your body language even in the poorly lit space. 

Something was wrong. 

In a one minute and fifty-three second phone call, December 21st went from the best night of my life, to the worst night of yours. 

I saw the way you came back into the living room with your eyes blankly staring into space. You were a walking ghost, a shell of a woman. 

“That was Adriana, my dad’s nurse,” You told us, commandeering the entire room’s attention. And somehow, we all knew what was to follow. 

“My dad just died.”

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

“I’ll take care of her, I promise.” I heard Spencer whisper to April as he walked her out. 

I felt terrible for letting him walk out all the guests I invited, while I simply sat on my couch staring into the nothingness. I should’ve said goodbye to them, but I was paralyzed even when he came back into the living room.

“I know this is a dumb question, but - you okay?” I could see the way his eyes ran over my face to examine me. Were you profiling me, Doctor?

“It’s weird,” I admitted. “It hasn’t hit me, yet. That he’s dead.” 

Even as the word left my mouth, my brain still couldn’t register it. 

“That’s not weird at all. Statistically speaking, after the death of a loved one, 32% of people reported that they stayed in the first stage of grief the longest.”

I wasn’t familiar with what he was referring to, which was something I’d have to get used to considering I was talking to a provable genius after all. “What’s the first stage of grief?”

“Denial.” 

And that was true, I was in denial. Even hours before my flight home, I was still in stage one. I was packing the last of my things when Spencer called to make sure I had everything I needed. 

“Wallet?” 

“Check.” 

“Passport?” 

“Check.”

“Ticket?” 

“Check.”

“Door?”

“Door?” I repeated. “What do you mean door?”

“Have you locked your door?”

“I never lock my door.” I scoffed, partially recognizing my own naiveté. 

“Yeah, I know you don’t. But will you please lock it for me when you leave?” 

“Okay, okay, fine. I’ll lock it on my way out.” 

Following my own promise, I hauled my suitcase through my apartment and turned the doorknob to exit, but I quickly stopped when I saw Spencer standing right outside. 

“Spencer? What are you doing here? I thought you were at work.” Soon after my statement, I ended our phone call considering there was no need to be on the phone with Spencer since he was standing right there in front of me. 

“I, um, I needed you to lock your door after you left because I won’t be around to do it myself when you’re in Oregon.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m coming with you.”

All the anxiety and stress left my body at once and there was nothing for me to do but show him my deepest appreciation by engulfing him in a hug. 

“You’re coming with me?” I nearly cried. 

“I couldn’t let you do this alone. And April practically threatened that if I didn’t buy a ticket, she’d kill me.” 

I chuckled mirthlessly in recognition of April’s tendency to be harsh in pursuit of something she wanted. I was so pleased to hear she wanted him to be with me in Oregon as badly as I wanted him to come. Her approval meant the world to me, and to know that she brought us that much closer together, even under these circumstances, truly showed her support of us.

In the hug, my head was hanging over Spencer’s shoulder giving me the opportunity to see his hidden luggage that if I had noticed earlier, would’ve revealed this little surprise, but I was glad I was blind to it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have felt the sweetest relief imaginable, it would’ve only been a combination of diluted relief and satisfaction of confirmed suspicion - a mixture not half so rewarding. 

“Thank you.” I whispered.

. . . 

There’s something about driving through your hometown after years and years of being gone. It’s like listening to a song you used to play over and over again, after not hearing it for a while. Both are like little time capsules that simultaneously preserve those memories while also transporting you to them. Whether that was a good or bad thing was still undetermined. 

“Home sweet home.” I sighed, the weight of everything coming down on me the minute I stepped foot in the doorway. 

I could actually smell the interior of the house and it brought back so many memories. I lived here for so long and never once could I smell a scent so distinct as this one, but now, with how long I’ve been gone - I could distinguish it, as if it were just another person’s house, and not my own from childhood. 

“(Y/n), is that you?” Adriana’s voice wavered as she ran towards me, embracing me with a warm hug. “I haven’t seen you in so long. Lemme look at you.” Adriana pulled back to stare at me in my entirety, and there was something about the look on her face. It was full of pride and sorrow - pride to see me in my full transformation into a woman but sorrow to be seeing me for these reasons. 

“Your dad would’ve been so proud to see the woman you’ve grown up to be.” 

Her teary eyes only brought on my own flood of tears. I hadn’t cried yet, but that was probably only because I was so distant from everything, but now, here in my childhood home, I was right in the middle of it. 

Adriana inhaled sharply after realizing how long our hug had lingered and the fact that she hadn’t yet greeted Spencer. “Oh forgive me for being so rude, I’m Adriana. I was (y/n)’s father’s nurse.”

“Spencer Reid.” He kindly greeted. “How are you, Adriana?” He asked her, a question I realized I should’ve asked myself. Somehow I’d forgotten that this couldn’t have been easier for her either. 

Walking through even just the front of the house was enough to overwhelm me with a plethora of memories. I was far too busy gaping at how much it hadn’t changed over the years to insert myself into Spencer and Adriana’s conversation.

“Well, right now, I’m just working on cleaning up the house. For when it goes on sale.” I heard Adriana tell Spencer.

I turned quickly over my shoulder in shock. “On sale?” 

“Your father figured you would sell this house. He left it for you, but he didn’t think you’d want it.” 

I should note that: here is where the seed was planted. The seed of doubt. 

Should I keep the house and move back to Oregon?

“Oh and before I forget,” Adriana tapped her pockets until she found what she was looking for. “He wanted me to give you this. He wrote it for you a couple days before he ...” She couldn’t even bring herself to say, ‘died’.

It was an envelope with what appeared to be a letter inside of it. I never knew my father to be a writer, so I opened it with such passionate fervor that I nearly gave myself a paper cut. Adriana and Spencer must’ve recognized my overwhelming eagerness to read it because they disappeared into the kitchen to give me the privacy to do so. 

To my dearest (y/n), 

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you I was getting worse. 

But what I’m not sorry about is not asking you to come home. I made a lotta mistakes when you were growing up, but I think the smartest thing I ever did was not ask you to come back home, because ever since I was diagnosed four years ago, you were ready to run home at the drop of a hat and rush back here in no time at all. That’s no way to live. You can’t just put your life on hold for my imminent death - and that’s certainly not what I want you to do when I actually am dead. 

I want you to live your life, (y/n). 

Never press pause. Keep going. 

Live a long and happy life ... for me, alright, kiddo?

Love,  your old man

All at once, I departed from the first stage of grief and straight into the second. 

Anger.

I hurled the note with as much force as I could, screaming at the top of my lungs with an earsplitting shrill. After seeing the letter fall onto the entryway table, I took my outer arm and swept every single thing on the table off of it out of anger that his letter didn’t go far enough. I could still read the words - I could still hear his voice. I watched in dignity as I let the decor, lamp, and picture frames fall where they may. The lamp landed on its side, clattering beside fallen decor and the picture frames’ glass split in two. I saw the remnants of the mess I created, and I was even angrier at myself. I only created more destruction for me to fix later. My face felt fiery hot and my skin was burning. I was fuming with rage when I finally looked into the mirror and saw the person I hated the most. 

Myself.

I was consumed by a deep loathing of the woman staring back at my in the reflection. 

How could she? How could she not visit dad until now? How could she let Adriana take care of him instead of taking care of him herself? How could she not check in every day? How could she spend years away from him?

How could she not know he was going to die? 

“I hate you!”

The anger took over my body and in one swift motion, my fist collided with the glass, shattering the dead center of the mirror. I cried out in immediate anguish as I felt my wrist go limp and a shooting pain going up and down my arm. Horror must’ve filled my eyes when I saw tiny shards of glass piercing my fist. I think I might’ve actually blacked out from the pain because all I could remember next was waking up in a hospital bed with my arm in a cast that extended all the way to my elbow. I blinked slowly to readjust to the glare, but thankfully, Spencer’s hovering face shielded my eyes from the bright florescent light.

“You know, for someone so small, you pack a pretty good punch,” Spencer chuckled mirthlessly. “You managed to dislocate your wrist, shatter a bone in your forearm, and fracture your elbow. Remind me to never get into a fist fight with you.” He kidded, making the joke just to see me smile, which it did, but he wouldn’t stop there. He had to actually see me laugh again. 

“Well, I think it’s safe to say you’re in the second stage of grief now, huh?” 

A soft giggle escaped me, and he knew his plan had worked. 

“But seriously, how are you feeling?” 

His question was accompanied with the delicate stroking of my hair out of my face, and I was transported to all those nights ago when I asked him to stay the night. I couldn’t remember much from that night either, but I could remember this feeling. The feeling of his touch. 

I felt so loved.

I shut my eyes in an effort to hide the tears that were glossing them, but that only made them stream down my cheeks. 

“Oh, (y/n),” Spencer frowned, replacing his stroking hand to the back of my head to bring my forehead closer to his lips where he would place a chaste kiss on it. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling right now, but I am going to be right there for you - through every single emotion.”

His warm words only made me sob harder. I didn’t deserve his good heart. 

“If I could take your pain away and experience it myself, I would. In a heartbeat.” 

Only his words I could trust wholeheartedly. 

I was discharged from the hospital several hours later, the loopiness I was experiencing from the anesthesia just barely wearing off, and I was forced to face the consequences of my previous actions in the form of a shower. 

Yes, you heard that correctly - a shower. 

“How do I even shower with a cast on?” I asked out loud to myself after turning the water on. My question was quickly followed with two knocks on the door and a, “Need any help in there?” from Spencer. 

There was a quick moment of contemplation which ultimately led to a bashful, “Yes, I do.”

My timidity fell away shortly after seeing Spencer fumble into the bathroom with his hand over his eyes. 

“I won’t look, I promise.” 

My laughter erupted in the room at the sheer amusement I got from his sinless actions. “I’m not naked! You don’t have to cover your eyes.” 

He made a gap between his middle and ring finger for his eyes to peek through just enough to register if I was really telling the truth and upon the discovery that I was, he removed his hand from his face. Afterwards, he left me with careful instructions to not wet my cast and carry on with the rest of my shower routine as normal. 

My shower, though mildly inconvenient because of my cast, was just like any other - ending in me shuffling from the bathroom to my bedroom with just a towel to cover me and collect the water from my sopping body. It was after I shut my bedroom door behind me I was met with yet another daunting task - putting on clothes. 

Unfortunately, my short temper didn’t bode well with my struggle to put pants on followed by my complete inability to find a shirt that had sleeves big enough to fit my cast through without excessively stretching the fabric. This resulted in the downright termination of the act after minutes of trying. I’d been rummaging through my luggage for minutes, but it wasn’t like I was planning to end up in a cast, so naturally - I didn’t bring clothes fit for such an occasion. And anything that was left in my closet were clothes that hadn’t fit me since high school. 

“(Y/n)?” I heard Spencer knock gently then saw him opening the door with painfully slow caution.

“Down here.”

His eyes followed as my words told him, and there he found me, lying on the floor with my towel still wrapped around my upper body.

“What are you doing down there?”

I should add that, along with his playfully spoken question, he got down on the floor to further lie on his back, too. It was a simple thing really, but it meant more to me than he knew. He wanted to join me as I rested on the carpet; he didn’t want to be standing above me, talking down to me. He saw me as his equal and he was going to lie with me on the floor, too - no hesitation whatsoever. He was more than content to follow along with my peculiar schemes, to humor my weirdness.

How many people in your life can you say that about? There’s not very many in mine who will go along with whatever I do or say just to make me happy, and for that, I thanked my lucky stars for giving me Spencer.

“I’ve been trying to put on a shirt, but none of them would fit around my cast and I just got frustrated and gave up.” I bluntly told him. 

“I can see that.” He jestingly noted, his eyes skimming over the mess in the room that I created trying to find a shirt that would fit. I could see the gears in his head turning for a solution to my problem. 

“What if I give you mine? Do you think it’ll fit?” 

He disappeared out of my bedroom and in less than a minute, he came back into the room with a worn Caltech shirt, and of course, it was a perfect fit. Almost made-to-measure.

After my content finding of a proper shirt, we resumed our position on the floor, lying side by side.

“I really like your room, by the way. I especially like your stars.” He pointed at my ceiling that was spotted with glow-in-the-dark stickers in the shape of stars and planets that I’d put up there as a child. 

I tried not to laugh as to not insult his admiration of them, but I couldn’t contain the slight giggle that left me from the amusement of his childlike wonder.

“Why?” I had to ask.

“I dunno, it’s just nice to look at. It’s kinda like we’re stargazing.”

“Hmm, I guess we kinda are.”

“Oh look!” He quickly motioned to a different sticker than the one he’d pointed to before. “There’s a shooting star! Make a wish.”

“Shut up!” I childishly giggled, reaching across my body to shove him with my good arm.

“Come on it’s a shooting star - you have to make a wish!”

In the same way that he humored my silly antics, I knew I had to indulge his. 

“Alright, I wish -”

“No, you have to close your eyes!” He insisted. “Your wish won’t come true unless you close your eyes.” To my furrowed brows and deadpan stare, he responded, “I don’t make the rules! You just have to!” 

I played along and shut my eyes all while inhaling deeply in preparation to make a wish. 

In that same breath, Spencer leaned over me, letting his face hang above mine for just a second to look at me. Even though I couldn’t look at him back, he didn’t mind.

“I wish . . .”

I parted my mouth to say something in addition, but my words were cut short when he placed his lips on mine.

The stars were aligning.

It was a shy kiss, just as I always dreamt it would be. He didn’t move his lips; he only puckered them against mine, and I could feel him begin to pull away. Before he could, I raised my head to follow his mouth, drawing him in closer with my one good hand on his cheek.

That was the only thing stopping him from kissing me harder before. He needed to know that I wanted it just as much as he did. And I did. I really did.

Now with more encouragement, he snaked his hand under my neck, supporting the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my still-damp hair. He cocked his head to the side, sharply inhaling so my own mouth would be forced to open, too, creating an entryway just big enough for his tongue to slip in.

I started seeing stars, and not the ones on my ceiling.

The moment was too quick and ended before I wanted it to, like all moments I had with him. He placed one small chaste kiss to give me solace, our lips clinging together briefly, bouncing back into place when ours faces were fully apart, making a small pop noise from the moist separation.

“Your hair smells like magnolias.” He drawled, seemingly in a daze when his eyes fluttered open.

It sent me into a fit of giggles - a sound he couldn’t resist. I noticed him eyeing me as I laughed and I tried not to let it get to my head, but God, if looks could kill. I wish I could see me the way he saw me. He looked at me like I was a galaxy full of stars, even if I felt like a dark abyss that would swallow him whole.

“I can’t believe it.” He dreamily whispered in awe.

“You can’t believe what?”

“When I first met you, I couldn’t get over how beautiful you were. And now, I’m smelling your shampoo while you’re wearing my clothes, kissing me under the stars?”

I’d never seen someone look so grateful. It was the purest vision.

I never did finish saying my wish, but if I had, it would’ve been to stay in this moment forever. But like all our moments together, this one, too, was gone in the blink of an eye. 

Soon enough, all this would just be a memory of the past. Another moment locked in time, never to occur again.

. . .

The week later we buried my father. 

I’d somehow skipped stage three and four - bargaining and depression - and was well on my way to stage five - acceptance. But it wasn’t really the acceptance of his death, more so the acceptance of what I had to do in the wake of it. 

I heeded my father’s words of not pressing pause on my life, but what I did next wasn’t really pressing pause, just rewinding a bit. 

I did say that whether coming to my hometown after years of not being here was a good thing or bad thing was still undetermined, and I think this was me realizing that it still is undetermined, and I wouldn’t be able to figure it out if I left. And really, I couldn’t leave. Not again. Not when Adriana needed me most to upkeep the house. Not after I’d purposefully bought an open-ended ticket to stay here for longer. 

I was meant to stay here, and consequently, I knew what that meant for me and Spencer.

We were on our way home from the funeral when Spencer parked the car in the driveway and shut it off. The rain was pelting the windshield as the window wipers robotically swept from side to side. We’d been listening to the sound of rain and automated windshield wipers for the entire duration of the time we sat there. He was waiting for me to say what he already knew. 

I wasn’t coming back to Virginia. 

The loud silence was broken with my words, “I’ve never felt this way for anyone before.” 

It almost seemed like he didn’t hear me because of the way he kept looking straightforward instead of at me, but I feel that it might’ve been so I wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes. 

“Spencer, I love you.” I honestly confessed, the simultaneous feeling of weight being lifted off my shoulders and a new weight being placed onto them coming over me. 

For the first time, he swiveled his head to the side, giving me full view of his crestfallen expression. I almost wish he hadn’t. 

“I love you, too.” His voice croaked. 

“But it wouldn’t be fair to start a relationship with you like this.”

“That’s what I was afraid you would say.” He whimpered. 

I needed to take care of Adriana, look after the house, and recover from my dad’s death, and it would be so easy to escape all that if I went back to Virginia. But if I honestly wanted to grow from this, I had to accept the responsibilities I had waiting for me here. Nothing needed me in Virginia - nothing but Spencer.

And if I knew him as well as I thought I did, he would understand that I couldn’t come back just yet. 

And he wouldn’t ask me to. 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

It’s been five months now, and somewhere around month two I got the sneaking suspicion that you were lying when you said you loved me. Because why wouldn’t you fight for us if you really did? 

But you knew if you told me that a long-distance relationship was too much to handle on top of everything else you had going on, I would’ve offered to move to Oregon with you, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want me to uproot my life for you, and you knew that’s exactly what I would’ve done. 

So after three more months of that thought brewing, I’ve come to the realization that you weren’t lying. No, you loved me too much. Too much to make me choose between you and my life in Virginia, but I’m telling you right now - if you asked me to, I’d choose you. Over and over and over again. 

I’d choose you. 

But that’s just it - you wouldn’t let me choose you, and you didn’t. That’s why you didn’t ask. I’m mad you never gave me the option, but I know that you only did that out of love. 

And I guess if that’s your way of saying “I love you,” then this letter is mine. 

I only wrote this instead of telling you it in person, because I think, for the first time, I want to trust the world as much as you trust the world. 

I want to have as much blind faith in something as you have in that unlocked door of yours. 

I want to trust that when you come back to Virginia and find this letter, whenever that may be, we’ll be different people, and that maybe then we’ll be better for each other. But until that time comes - until that faithful day when you return from Oregon, I will wait. 

I will wait, and I will not forget you - I promise that. 

It’s quite hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember. 

At this time, you and I haven’t spoken a word to each other since the funeral, so I have virtually no idea what your current state of affairs are, but I should let you know that by this time next week, I will be living in a real house, which also means I am moving out of this apartment at the end of the week. I'm quite disoriented from this to say the least, but I’ve never been more ready or excited to start a new chapter of my life. 

As for us - this isn’t our last chapter. I know it. There’s more for us. 

I have faith. 

And if there’s one last thing I wanted you to know, it’s that:

You have given me a lifetime of happiness, 3B.

Sincerely yours, 2B

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

[ivyyreid]

rain & moonlight

description: reader is moving away, but realises her feelings her for spencer.

category: fluff, a bit angsty

tw: seperation, implied smut.

masterlist

gif credits to @toyboxboy :))

don't find love. let love find you. that's why it's called falling in love because you don't force yourself to fall, you just fall.

-----

today is the day.

after five years, seven months, and thirteen days you've reached the - inevitable - day.

the day where it's time to pack your possessions into boxes, and try not to cry as you hug your best friends goodbye.

the day where you leave your beautiful home of dc to go to new york city. the day where you leave to start the job and life of your dreams.

but you still feel crushed.

at first, dc was a placeholder for nyc. you joined the behavorial analysis unit as a temporary career at first, but as the months went by you find it harder and harder to leave.

and now you're going to new york city. to work in sex crimes, and fulfill the promise you made to yourself in college. the promise of being truly happy and living in new york city, working to make a change.

this is your destiny, what you're supposed to do, but you still can't shake the feelings of sadness, and emptiness. like you're forgetting something.

spencer drops you off at the train station. you wrap your arms around him, breathing in his scent and melting into the comforting, familiar hug for what may be the last time.

spencer's holding it together, but you can feel a few tears falling from your face. when you and spencer break apart, you quickly wipe them away, and force smile sadly.

"call me if you're ever in new york city," you whisper, and spencer nods.

"goodbye y/n," he says, and you feel your heart break. no one ever truly describes how painful goodbyes are.

"goodbye spencer," you say, a hint of melancholy in your voice. like you've already left.

a light drizzle begins as you walk into the train station with your suitcase. you can feel spencer watching you leave, and you want to desperately to look back, but you know that if you do you'll never be able to leave dc.

you hold your head up high, pushing back the final tears as you enter the station. the ceiling is beautiful, tall and arched, and the pillars and tiled-floor are gorgeous too. but it's hard to concentrate on the beauty right now.

it's late at night, probably around ten pm, but the train station is still packed with people. women and men in business attire, college aged students in sweats with messy hair, and the occasional lost kid.

you find your way to your train, and take a seat in the stiff chair. a woman, about your age sits next to you, and a family in front of you.

you take a minute to rest your eyes, realizing now how tired you really are.

but closing your eyes was a mistake, because now you have time to really think.

you think about your best friends. emily, jj, garcia, derek, even rossi and hotch. you think about the bar visits, girls nights, and team dinners. you're going to miss that.

you're going to miss garcia's unique way of expressing herself, derek's confidence, jj's motherly personality, how extremely badass emily is, rossi's devotion to helping people, and hotch's fatherly personality.

you're going to miss the early morning phone calls. the coffee shop visits.

you're going to miss spencer.

his smile, the way he rambles, how his tongue pokes into his cheek when he's concentrating, the way he knows the answer to everything but doens't brag about it. you're going to miss his messy brown hair, his hazel puppy-dog eyes, his sweater vests and cardigans.

and the reality hits you.

there won't be another spencer in new york. or another derek, garcia, jj, emily, rossi or hotch.

you'll never get to gossip in garcia's office again. you won't get to play-fight with derek. you won't get to hug jj, or emily.

you're leaving.

you're leaving dc and you're not coming back.

and spencer...

you promise never to forget spencer.

never to forget the first time you met, when he spilled coffee on your shirt.

never to forget the nights you would eat thai and watch the strangest documentarys.

never to forget the rush you felt when you would touch.

or when he would talk to you.

or do anything.

never to forget the way he watched you leave him. the way you never turned back, left him standing alone in the rain outside of a train station.

a tear runs down your cheek.

you have to fix this.

you can't go to new york city, because you weren't meant for new york city.

you were meant to exist here. you belong here.

you get up from your seat and start to exit the train.

the people around you give you strange glances, but then again you are running off a train and slightly crying.

but you don't care. because you're going to spencer.

you run out of the train station, bracing yourself for the cool rain. it dampens your clothing, and gets your hair wet but you don't care.

suddenly, you realise you have no idea what you're doing, and that this may be the dumbest idea of your life.

everything you own is most likely already in new york city. you just wasted one hundred dollars on a train ticket you never used, and you' have no idea where spencer is.

you slowly spin in a circle, your surroundings illuminated by moonlight.

where could spencer be right now?

you think until your almost thought out, and then it hits you. when spencer distressed, or needs to refresh his mind, he goes to the park. and looks at the pond.

it's a long shot for him to be there in the dead of night, but you decide to take your chances. if he's not there, you can just get a cab to take you to his apartment.

you run in the direction of the park, occasionally passing a junkie, or a couple on a nightly outing.

you run through the park, breathing hard and cluthing your stomach.

you're about to give up hope, because you haven't seen a living soul hair, but then you see him.

or what you presume to be him.

a tall, skinny figure. watching the pond.

"spencer!" you yell, running towards him.

the rain beats down on you, and your whole body is soaking wet but you don't care. all you want to do is get to him, the love of your life.

because you love spencer.

and you've been idiotic and silly and blind but know you know you love him.

all those glances, the smiles, small touches, that was love.

and love wasn't big, and flashy. love isn't what makes the world go round. love is what makes the ride worthwhile. love is the small things.

spencer turns around, and you can see his face illuminated by the moonlight.

his perfect, beautiful face.

you run into his arms, hair flowing, tears falling. you crash your lips into his and press your hands into his chest, what you've wanted to do for five years.

and he responds. his lips move against yours, and he holds your face in his hands.

"i love you, spencer" you say, when you finally break apart. and it feels so great. being able to finally say it after all the years of denial, and trying to shove the feelings away.

"i've always loved you, spencer and i tried to shove the feelings away, lock them in a box and keep them hidden forever but it didn't work. and i couldn't leave knowing that i would never be able to tell you, knowing that it would be to late. i loved you everyday spencer. you let me sleep on your shoulder, watch the worst sit-coms with you, and you hold my hand under the table, and i can't help but glance up every so often to look at you during work. and i choose you. for the looks and smiles and conversations. that's why it has to be you, that's why it's always been you and always will be you. and i know i don't make a lot of sense and i sound drunk and you probably-"

"y/n," spencer whispers, placing a finger to your lips. you didn't realise you had been rambling. "i love you too," he whispers, and you feel your heart melt.

spencer reid, boy genius, pretty boy, fbi agent, kicker of criminal ass, loves you.

he loves you right now. under the stars. in the rain. illuminated by the moonlight.

you stay silent, staying in his embrace as he softly kisses your forehead.

in the distance, a band starts to play.