I find it incredibly humbling to come back to an account that I invested so much time, love, and genuine dedication into as a young teenager - just to find that it still grows slowly, and the old content still gets interaction, now that I’m in my mid-twenties, and a completely different person. 

This space, and the group of people that cared enough to give me their attention and time throughout the years, will always be special and cherished in a way I cannot explain (for once, I have no words!). But after all this time, it’s time to start anew, and so this post is to thank every last one of you who helped make fuckereesworldofimagines what it was - still is?- today.  

I have created a new account, sedulous-snail, where I will be trying some new things that I am nervous to put out, as well as where I will eventually hope to provide content to people with the option to “tip the creator” so to speak. I know that is getting incredibly ahead of myself! But my family has grown and those hungry little gremlins have vet bills that my full time job isn’t covering - so I’m trying to start working towards getting some help with those. It is very important to note that this is an extremely distant pipe dream for my new account. 

At the present time, I will be focused on growing my page by finding creators to follow, reblogging content that fits my interests and inspires me, and getting comfortable back on Tumblr again. 

I will never be able to say how grateful I am for what this account did for my life, and how hopeful I am for the future - and the futures of every one of you who ever played a part supporting this account, and in turn supporting me. I look forward to learning this platform again, and intaking incredible content! 

You are all so very loved, and thought of. I hope to meet you again on my new adventure, but if this is where the story ends for us - thank you is an understatement, and take care. 

A/N - Hi everyone! It’s really good to be back writing actual imagines again, this was a request that has probably been awaiting my answer for months - because I haven’t been able to be active - but I’m getting to it now! The request is for Reid, post shot-in-the-leg-injury, being taken care of by Y/N

Warnings: None that I can think of 

Rating: P/G 

Imagine...

You watched with eager, worried eyes as he slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed, tossing the covers messily over to your side, a grimace on his face. “Take it slow, remember what your surgeon said”, your voice was calm and mellow in the silent space between the two of you. 

He was stubborn, more than stubborn actually, and it had been the most difficult week of your life as you settled into your new position as his in-home caregiver, something he hated, but that just made it harder to do. “Yes I know, I can do it”, his tone almost made you roll your eyes, but you caught yourself, knowing it’d only spark a fire. 

A deep, poorly-stifled groan caught your attention as he rose to his feet, struggling momentarily to get his crutches underneath him, but you stood, unmoving, in the corner and allowed him to come to grips with the discomfort of the situation himself. 

He hopped across the room, his eyes never leaving the floor, and you let him lead as you called for the cat and shut the door behind yourself. “Anything for breakfast?” you murmured, coming around the corner into the kitchen as he sets himself up at the table. 

“I think I’m good, maybe just-” reaching for the cupboard door you answer his question before he’s even asked, and you close your fingers around the handle of his favourite mug. “Thank you” he smiles, “you know me so well” with a wink he laughs quietly, and your earlier frustration starts to thaw away. 

You watch the dark liquid, bubbling and hot, gush forward into the cup and you’re careful to avoid any spilling while you make light conversation. 

“So, any plans for today? How are you feeling?”, your sentence is punctuated with the sound of the spoon tinkling up against the mug, and he waits for you to join him at the table before he goes on about his schedule. 

“I’ve been thinking I should head back into work, see what I could do on site with Garcia, you know? They won’t have me in the field at all, but that’s probably a good start, right?”, he blows gently on the coffee, and the steam breaks for a mere moment of clarity above the cup, before returning and swirling up into nothingness. 

That was how you currently felt, as if you could float up into nothingness above the two of you, but would it be any better up there?, “You know, I don’t think it’s quite the right time for that yet, you may be pushing yourself too far too fast”. It was hard to differentiate whether you truly felt that way, or whether you were just too fearful to let him go back. 

You knew what his career demanded of him, because it was the shared career the two of you had that had brought you together in the first place, and you never got used to the stomach dropping feeling of a phone call that you weren’t expecting. 

Quickly, quickly, quickly, that’s the only word you felt like your supervisor ever said - didn’t she know that it was impossible to be any quicker when you were waiting on test results? You weren’t a damn machine. 

“Y/L/N, I wanted all of the information compiled and in the break room by noon, and it’s now one o’clock, where is what I asked for and why is it taking you so long?” her shrill voice was only beat out by the sound of styrofoam rubbing together on your list of most-hated sounds. 

Taking a minute to compose yourself, you can feel the strain of the saliva you swallow scratching against the dryness of your throat. “Well, ma’am, the clin-path lab is backed up by about an hour and forty five, or so they’ve told me three times already”. 

You tried to make her realize it wasn’t on you, but that was useless, “well if you knew they were busy, why wouldn’t you have handed in what I needed earlier, we have deadlines around here if you don’t care to forget about them”. With that, she had tsk-tsked you as if you were her scolded child, and turned on her heel to leave. 

With what felt like a ball of fury knotted in your stomach, you stood so abruptly your chair tipped, and clambered against the filing cabinet behind you, but it didn’t matter anyway because you were already on your way down to the lab. 

“What a bitch” you hissed, “what a vile, horrible woman! You think I would purposefully have late results? Of course not! Then I have to deal with you even more!” you ranted heavily to yourself, your body carrying you to your destination on auto-pilot, allowing you to let off the slightest bit of steam. 

Against your thigh, your phone began to vibrate, short and quick bursts made you clue in that it was a call, but you figured it was just from upstairs and you didn’t have the time, nor were you in the mood to answer her right now, so you let it go and it ceased moments later.

The tech’s barely flinched when the door opened anymore, they were overworked, underpaid, and running on nothing but caffeine and vending machine meals. “Y/N, I only have one set of results back, I’m so sorry I’m still waiting on the other two”, your favourite technician, Andy, handed you a manilla envelope. 

“It’s the toxicology” he adds on, before scurrying back over to his station, his hands reaching for new gloves as he wastes no time with formalities. Perfect, at least there’s something to hand over, you think as you reach for your phone. It had been buzzing since you stepped in, but Andy had quickly stolen your attention. 

“Y/L/N” you chirped, expecting the boss devil-woman on the other end. 

“Why haven’t you been answering? We’ve got an emergency, there’s been an incident” it was Morgan, and you immediately froze in the doorway of the stairwell, but only for a second before you shake off the ice seeming to latch onto your limbs. 

Your legs are pumping up the stairs, skipping you don’t even know how many steps at a time, and yelling into the phone as you hustle. “What’s going on? Where am I headed?”, you asked no more questions, you required no more answers in the moment. 

“It’s Reid, he’s been shot in the leg, he was conscious and directed EMT’s to the un-sub before himself, but he’s in surgery right now to assess the impact”, your stomach wasn’t just doing flips, it was performing a full floor routine as you flew passed the boss’ office. “We’re here, we didn’t travel”. 

You could still remember the way you had felt, feet pounding across the linoleum of the hospital floor, as you raced to find the room number that you’d barely stopped long enough to find out. It was kind of like how you felt right now, with him so eager to get back to what nearly took him from you. 

It felt weird, but you felt as though he was being selfish, why couldn’t he just wait it out like he was supposed to? You’d spent this last week making coffee and breakfast, lunch and dinner, helping him in and out of the bath, off and on the toilet in the earlier days, everything you could think of needing help with when you’re down a leg, you had helped with.

“I’m not sure, are you really, really ready for that? I mean, I know you just want to go back to the office, but still”, it came out quiet, nervous to upset. He sipped once more, before nodding. 

“I figured you would say that, and I also figured that I’d settle your anxiety before you let it get out of hand”, at first you weren’t sure how to take that, be offended or be gracious? It was all in what he had to say next. 

“I’m not going in today, I wanted to test the waters and see if you were okay or not with it, and I completely understand and appreciate that you’re not”, he took a minute to let you calm and become levelheaded. 

“I’ve decided to not go in for a few more days, I’m gunna wait out the rest of your time off with you” you felt your blood pressure start to fall from it’s heightened state, your stress beginning to peel back layer by layer. 

You hadn’t even thought of that, your time off would’ve still been in effect, and you weren’t allowed back at work until it officially ended, your boss had said “for your mental health” - but her tone had sounded more like “for my mental health”. 

“Okay.. So what’s next then? What are you planning?” you knew that if you could write it all down and have it planned out, it wouldn’t be so hard on you when he decided to go back. 

“What’s next is that you go pick a movie, I’m going to sit here and wish I could be of more help, and then we’re going to cuddle and watch what you’ve picked out, then we’ll se about ordering lunch in and go from there, sound good?”. You could’ve cried you were so grateful for him and his unrivalled smarts. 

A/N: Hey again :) I posted two lists of those ask things, I’m just hoping to get the activity and number of posts on the blog started back up again, but that’s a laugh cause nobody ever asks those so I’m just throwing paint at walls basically LOL! Anyway, this is a request for a sequel to THIS IMAGINE (2015 work - whoa) - Emma 

Rating: PG

Warnings: None that I can think of

Imagine... 

Spencer’s fingers drummed a steady beat along the arm of the stiff-backed, uncomfortably hot leather chair in the far too quiet room. His Adam’s apple bobbed with what seemed like a painfully dry swallow and he winced, barely noticeable other than in his eyes. 

You were watching him, acutely aware of every move that he made, from the other side of your therapist’s door. It had been three brutal, nightmarish months since you’d found yourself horrified, unable to catch your breath as the empty hotel room spiralled around you, the floor threatening to swallow you up at any moment. 

These last few months had brought forth far too many of your hallucinations for Reid’s liking, too many moments where you stared wide-eyed, tears the only movement on your pale, frozen face, at something he couldn’t see. “I thought you said it was only with extreme stress, or scarring images? Is that how you’ve been feeling?”.

A gentle sigh escaped through your chapped lips, and you instinctively dipped out your tongue, followed by teeth to pull on the peeling skin. This far too tiny square of glass must be there in the door so you don’t feel entirely boxed in, but you felt more like a caged animal that you ever had. 

“It is, but with being a rookie on a team like the BAU, extreme stress and scarring images seem to be what I signed up for, so I’m just going to lay in the bed I’ve made and it’ll pass when I acclimate”, that was how you wanted to do this, keep seeing what made you question if you could continue what you were doing until you didn’t see it anymore. 

That hadn’t been good enough for Spencer, who had scoffed at the mere mention of just letting it continue, and he’d shook his head as well as he’d dug around inside his bag. “I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it could make a difference for you”, the card, emblazoned with a logo and contact information, had directed you here, where you watched him through a window and yearned to be home. 

You hadn’t admitted it to him that these things that you were seeing were confusing you just as much as they were him, you had no idea where they were coming from or how to make them stop - but the sudden flash of a notebook in front of the tiny window brought you to your senses, “shit”, you muttered as you hurried back to the seat you’d been offered ten minutes earlier. 

“Y/N, Y/L/N?” she didn’t wait for you to confirm before introducing herself, offering a hand, and you accepted politely knowing that Spence would shake his head at you. “I can’t discuss other patients, but I’m very happy to hear your referral was taken into consideration, let me just ask a few basic questions and we’ll go from there, sound good?”. 

Her voice was gentle and warm, as if she knew that you were irritated and unable to be on the same level as she was, and set that aside entirely. It was your turn to swallow heavily, nodding hesitantly as she smiled over her glasses. 

*Spencer’s POV* 

For the second time in the last hour, the receptionist had caught me staring at the door with eager eyes and smiled, followed by a reassuring word, “she won’t be much longer Dr. Reid!”, but like I said, this was the second time she’d said that in just over an hour. 

It wasn’t that I was worried that she was going to come out a horrible mess and tell me it was all over for her, it was that I was worried that she was going to come out completely well put together and emotionally unchanged. Again, not that I thought she was emotionally challenged or anything - this was just a really tough situation for her and she wasn’t sure how to handle it, and neither am I, but I don’t really know what I’m worried about, she’s good, she’s more than good, am I good? 

 A young boy comes in, his hand held tightly in that of who I infer is his father, they look so extremely similar. He reaches out his hand and is met with a bottle of water, oh how I wanted a bottle of water, but I didn’t want to leave the room, what if as soon as I left, she was done? She’d have nobody waiting and I’d feel horrible. 

“Dr. Reid, can I speak with you a moment?” it takes the older woman a few times before I register that I’m Dr. Reid, and that she wants to speak with me for a moment. I turn, tearing my eyes away from the vending machine, and meet the gaze of the therapist, “Y/N is all done her session, I just wanted a quick word”.

Y/N smiles weakly from behind that too small square, how useless are those? Put a real window in your room, and I wave back. “Sure, just a moment right?”, she nods, and I stretch with a loud crack in my knee as I move from my previous lookout. 

When we’re in the adjoining room, she takes a quick look through her notebook before she addresses me. “You know I adhere strictly to patient confidentiality, so I won’t breach that, but I just wanted to say thank you for referring to me, I’m glad to take it on, and I just wanted to ask a few favours.” 

*Y/N’s POV* 

Spencer steps back through the doorway and wastes no time in making his way to your now-open room. “Ready to head out?” he asks softly, and you nod, reaching for his hand subconsciously, it was comfort that you wanted right now. 

He didn’t press with any questions, just held your hand tightly and allowed you to vent, you went over what she had asked you, which was way too many questions about your childhood than you felt comfortable with, in your opinion. “Did she set you up with any next steps?”, he checked his way to make sure it was clear before leading the two of you across the street. 

“I’m going to come back, I agreed to 2-3 sessions a week as long as I can make it with our work schedule - but no excuses, I have to be there at least once a week. Otherwise, she mentioned a few meditation exercises to look into, and suggested this book, so do you mind if we swing by and pick up a copy at that place by your apartment?”. 

He nods, a slight smile on his face, and your brow furrows, “why so smiley there Dr. Reid?” you ask, and he just shrugs. 

“I’m just happy that you have some next steps to take, and that you’ve got a good head about it, and of course we can go I love that store”, he opens the driver’s side door for you, and waits before carefully closing it once more. You found yourself smiling, he was right, this was a good start. 

*One Week Later* 

You felt as though this week wasn’t much different than your usual, but what you did feel was the slightest bit of relief at the tiny difference in your hallucinations. They weren’t gone, of course they weren’t, this wasn’t some magical fix, but they had decreased by three so far this week. 

It was a battle you didn’t expect to be so strenuous, you were only about a quarter of the way through your new book, and your meditation exercises sometimes got forgotten about after a too-long day of being on your feet, and your sleep schedule wasn’t the best when you and the team were on the road, but you were still grateful for the little break you were getting. 

The aroma of coffee made you turn your focus, Reid was in the break room just out of eyesight, but you knew exactly what he was doing. You had been so extremely thankful for his help these last seven days, making sure he reminded you when it was getting late, and setting up your calming noises for you so you could meditate. 

He brought you coffee every morning, afternoon, and then decaffeinated tea at night, made sure you kept up with eating and drinking water, and had made it his personal mission to be your biggest cheerleader and shoulder to cry on when you got defeated, and you were really appreciating this new routine. 

As he re-entered the room, two mugs in hand, he came directly to your desk and set it down on your coaster for you. “Thank you Spence, really” you smiled, before reaching to catch him as he turned - it was a busy day getting ready to head out tonight - but he still made time for you. 

“Kiss me?” you asked, and he chuckled softly before nodding, and leaning over to place one softly on your lips, which were in much better shape after he bought the best chapstick he could find. He brushed your cheek gently, and as he straightened a piece of lined paper fluttered down from his jacket pocket, and you snatched it up before he could. 

His face burned bright red as you unfolded it, the handwriting wasn’t his own, and you started reading with nervousness heavy on your chest. 

Keep an eye on her eating and drinking habits, those make more of a difference than considered. 

A minimum of 8 hours is what she should be sleeping, I find the mind has a much harder time making things up when you’re well rested and clear. 

Find a soundtrack, not music necessarily, but sounds to accompany her meditation, that helps beginners find their calm easier. 

If you know of things that bring a positive reaction, try to keep up that positivity, and keep finding new ways to bring the reaction around.

A/N: Hi everyone! So please see my previous post if you haven’t yet, it explains why this is coming out of nowhere, and what will happen from here on out :) This is for Reid liking the reader very obviously, but the answer to a question leaves him unraveled. 

Rating: PG13

Warnings: nothing I can think of! 

Imagine...

You leaned back in your chair, stretching in an attempt to ease the ache out of your shoulders, and winced at the burning pain that seemed to lay right across the entirety of your upper back. Hours in the same position had left you sore, and as you straightened up once more you reviewed the paperwork on your desk. 

The pile of cases, sent to you by police departments around the US, seemed to taunt you the more you tried to cut it down, and you were quickly running out of patience and energy. Reading through them was heart wrenching, all of these people desperately wanted the BAU’s help, but only a select few would meet the qualifications, and it was never easy to be the one who decided that. 

JJ had left to be on maternity leave, something you knew she needed, but you had never expected to be the one her position fell to and some days, including today, felt overwhelming. 

Unable to motivate yourself to keep going, you decide to take a quick break to stretch your legs out and get something to drink, and you stand, cracking in both of your knees as they straighten for the first time in what sounds like forever. 

Grabbing your mug from the desk, you push your chair back in and head toward the break room, hoping that someone had brewed a pot of coffee within the last hour, so you could get some semblance of a decent warm drink. Your footfalls are loud on the hard ground beneath you, and the tapping seems to echo in your head. 

As you round the corner, you can see the empty coffee pot and you mutter under your breath, “any other time it’s full, any other time!”, before cursing yourself for not starting one on your last break. 

You make quick work of getting it going, placing a fresh filter and scooping in the grounds, taking a deep breath of the smell, practically salivating at the idea of a warm cup of coffee to keep yourself going. Pouring in the water, you push the button and lean back against the counter, closing your eyes for a moment. 

“Hey Y/N, you look really nice today, how is it going with the cases?” Spencer’s gentle voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you smile up at him. 

The bags under your eyes probably tell him more than you’re going to as you clear your throat, “thank you Spence, they’re coming along, but I wish it wasn’t solely me, you know?”. He nods, and you feel a bit of relief that he understands. 

“I can see how it would be hard, I know you’re a person who cares a lot, which I love about you, but it also makes it so that your heart strings get tugged when you’ve got to turn down a case, but if you wanted you don’t have to do it alone”. 

Your eyes widen in surprise at his offer, and as the pot starts to fill, finally, your brow furrows. “Are you offering to help me Spencer Reid? You really want to put yourself through that?”. 

He seems to contemplate your words for a moment, before nodding, “yes, I’d be happy to help, you know I’d do anything for you” he grins, and you follow suit. 

“I would really appreciate that Spence, thank you”, the two of you stand in comfortable silence while the pot fills, and you silently take his mug, filling it alongside yours and he murmurs a thank you as you add in what both of you like, leaving him to stir them as you check the fridge to see if you’d left anything good to snack on, regrettably, you hadn’t. 

Checking to make sure he’s ready, you lead the way out of the break room and toward your desk, where Morgan stands waiting for you. “Hey lovebirds, just checking in on Y/N, anything to report?” it’s clear he finds it hard to hold back his smirk as you roll your eyes and Reid burns red. 

“Nothing yet, I’m hoping I’m getting close, Reid’s gunna help out and hopefully we can get through these a bit quicker” you sit down, and gesture at Reid to roll his seat over. 

“Anything for you, right Y/N? By the way, did he tell you he likes your hair today? He thinks you look good” Morgan’s teasing flusters Spencer who shakes his head and bites at his lower lip. 

You reach out and smack Derek in the arm, before answering, “actually, yes he did, and I think he looks really good too, now leave him alone” your tone comes off as a playful warning, and as Reid sits down beside you, Derek ruffles his hair. 

“He’s just bugging Spence, it’s okay” you reassure him as you see the nervous look on his face, and you reach out, gently touching his hand, “don’t be upset, okay?”. You had known Spencer liked you for a little while, and honestly you liked him too, but you weren’t sure if he was ready for a relationship or if he was just testing out how he felt. 

“It’s not just him though Y/N, it’s Prentiss, it’s Rossi, it’s Garcia, they all make fun of me, and at first I was okay with the teasing, but I just don’t know how I feel about it anymore”. You nod your head, understanding how he feels, and squeeze his hand. 

His fingers curl around yours, and he glances up from the floor for a moment just to catch your gaze, and you smile. “Can I ask you something?” you say quietly, not wanting the others to overhear and flock over, or eavesdrop, as Reid already seemed vulnerable enough. 

You can see the hesitation in his eyes before he nods, and you try to think of the gentlest way to phrase what you want to say. 

“Spence, I know you like me, and I want you to know that I like you too.. But why haven’t you ever told me? Or asked me out? Or just really spoke to me about it openly?”, as soon as the words clear the air between the two of you, he tenses, and his grip on your hand tightens momentarily. 

It takes him a few moments to collect his thoughts, and you give him all the time he needs, you just wanted him to feel like he could be honest with you. 

His voice is so quiet that at first you almost miss what he’s saying entirely, but you lean in so that you can catch it. 

“Because I’m insecure, because I think you could find someone so much better looking, more athletic, more street smart, more muscular and handsome, someone who isn’t the picture perfect idea of a nerd, someone who doesn’t speak and never shut up, someone you’re not going to grow tired of” his voice cracks, and he takes a deep breath, you’re sure to stem the tears you see forming. 

He shakes his head, but continues, “I’m small and I’m weak and I’m a nerd, I work with you, it’s like you’d never be free of me, I come off as pompous or arrogant, I have trouble reading emotions and social cues, I’m just so much less than what you could find”. 

It’s your turn to fight to find your thoughts, and you struggle to hold back tears at the thought that Spencer thinks these things about himself, that he’s so insecure that he thinks you would want so much better than him, but you don’t, you never would. 

“Spence... Just let me get this all out, and then you can say what you think, okay?”, he nods, gnawing at his lip worriedly. 

“I could find someone more athletic, I could find someone with more muscles or who isn’t what you call a ‘nerd’, and yes, I could find someone I’m not going to grow tired of, because I have found someone I’m not going to grow tired of”.

A look of confusion crosses his face, and you reach out to touch his cheek, gentle but firm. 

“You listen to me Spencer Reid, I will never grow tired of you, I want all of you, I don’t need athleticism, I don’t need muscles, I don’t need big, I don’t need anything other than you. You are strong, and you are smart, and you are kind and loving and thoughtful, and you’re incredibly handsome, and the truth is you have nothing to be scared about when it comes to me, because I want all of you”. 

He sits back, your hand still on his cheek, the other holding one of his, and smiles weakly, before turning to place a kiss against your palm. 

I just wanted to say a huge thank you for 900 followers! I still can’t believe this massive shitpost of a blog has come this far from the 5 followers I had in December of 2014. 

It hasn’t been easy, y’all have lived through some of the hardest parts of my life with me, and I couldn’t wish for a better group of people to have on my blog. 

I have gained so much from running FWOI, not only a deep sense of gratitude and pride, but friends, my first love (and subsequently my first heartbreak, but it was worth every moment), and people who I consider family. 

Without this blog my life could be a lot darker than it is, but even if I don’t do a great job of keeping on top of it all of the time, I’m still so happy that I’ve had it beside me in life. 

Most of you have lived through some of these great highlights: the terrible train wrecks that were my first posts, the mass swarm of ships in 2015, my not one, but two broken wrists (the left one, it just doesn’t have its shit together), my not one, but two collapsed lungs (the right one, it just doesn’t have its shit together), and my failed ability to keep active all the time.  

For being here for me through all of the big moments in my life, I hope that I’ve had some sort of impact on your lives as well. I don’t know where I’d be without FWOI, and that means I don’t know where I’d be without all of you, so thank you all, from the bottom of my heart. 

Thanks for sticking around, 

A/N: HI! It’s been quite a while since I’ve written anything, and that’s really my fault, I’ve been so busy with my course at college and keeping up with the blog has been really pushed away, and I deeply apologize for that. You’ll also have to forgive me if I have any spelling errors, my roommate keeps the dorm freezing, and even in my bedroom I’m frozen, so my hands are trembling. ANYWAY, this is a request for the sequel to THIS IMAGINE . 

Rating: 14A

Warnings: Description of medical “procedures”

Imagine... 

You hadn’t had time to process what the EMT had said as you were sat on the stretcher inside the back of the ambulance, your eyes wide and your chest held still and tight as you refused to breathe, and all the words you wanted to say were silenced as the doors slammed shut. 

They had decided to put your shoulder back in instead of waiting for the bumpy ride to the hospital, and after giving your shot of medication a chance to take effect, they had counted in with you before shoving it back in the most gentle they could before immobilizing the arm again. 

Tears filling your red, barely open eyes, you watch as the medic sitting with you averts his gaze rather quickly, clearly wanting to avoid offending you. Your body felt numb, not because of the pain medication coursing through your veins, but because your insides were knotted with unknowing, how could this happen? What were you supposed to feel? 

Leaning your head back against the stiff pad beneath you, you finally let a soft breath tickle through your lips shakily and raise the hand that you could lift to your eyes, wiping clear the tears before they had the chance to touch your cheeks. 

“You know-” the voice from beside you cuts through the painful silence, and even though neither of you look at one another, he continues to speak. 

“My husband and I got a divorce three years ago, we used that oh-so-common tagline that we had ‘irreconcilable differences’, but if we were honest with one another, it was because of my job pulling me away from him so often that he felt alone even in a marriage.” 

Now the two of you met one another’s gaze, his face holding a look of sheepishness, and yours one of sympathy. 

“Although I’m happy I never gave up my job, I’m always going to be haunted by the way I didn’t give him more time, I didn’t try to see things his way, and he tells me he’ll never forgive himself for not being more understanding. We’re best friends now, but we both regret the decision we made, so maybe, if I’m not imposing, your situation is a blessing in disguise”. 

He turns back to his chart, only glancing over to record your vital signs, and you feel the weight of what he’s said laying heavy on your chest as the ambulance shudders to a stop, and the back is pulled open. 

With gentle hands and slow movements, they pull the stretcher from the back, and you feel yourself shake slightly as the wheels are pulled from underneath and hit the cracked pavement, and you smile at the medic who had sat with you as his face is above yours. 

“Thank you,” you murmur. 

Closing your eyes to avoid the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights buzzing away above you, you try to steady your mind and the thoughts racing through it, before a hand is placed on your good shoulder. 

“Hey there detective, I’m Lily, one of the nurses, your partner verified your information back at the scene, but I just wanted to check that you were okay.” 

Her voice is gentle and kind, and she takes a peek at the bandage on your knee, a wince bubbles up on your face as she shakes her head. 

“I’m sorry dear, we’ve got to get that stitched as soon as possible, it’s going to be tender.” 

You catch sight of the blood that’s oozing up through the previously white bandage and nod, forgiving her silently for what she had to do. After a few more minutes of conversation between the medics and the nurses, you’re being wheeled back towards the rooms. 

Trying to avoid focusing on the pain that’s resurfacing as the first shot of pain intervention they had given you is starting to fail, you open your ears to what’s around you. 

There’s a baby crying, and a few women talking in what sounds like Russian, and the ever common beeps and hisses emitted from the multiple machines found in a hospital. You’re almost relaxed until his voice breaks through the multitude of sounds you’d been focusing on, and in that moment your eyes snap open. 

“Yes, she’s my wife, and by law that means I am privy to any information on her well-being, and the ability to see her.” 

His anger is breaking through, and you smirk at the way he allows the words ‘my wife’ to slip off of his tongue, only as a way to get what he needs though, you’re sure. 

“Mr. Callen, she’s still going through registration and initial check up, you need to wait.” 

The nurses tone is one of frustration, and you can almost tell what’s going to happen next, either he’s going to slam his hand down on the table, or he’s going to turn his back to her and try to breathe, but you don’t give him the chance. 

“Excuse me, Lily? Could you please tell that nurse that my husband can come through? I’d feel much more comfortable if he was here.”

You surprise yourself with how okay you feel speaking the sentence, and she grins with a look of knowing before leaving you momentarily to retrieve Callen. 

His footfalls are almost staccato - like on the floor as he runs back, leaving Lily way behind him as you watch him rush to the side of the stretcher, a hand instantly on the side bar as he looks down at you. 

“Hey, husband,” you murmur, a lazy smile playing on your lips as he takes a moment to take everything in.    

“Hi, wife,” his fingers carefully slip from the bar onto your hand. 

The two of you take a moment to pull in much needed air and to ground yourselves with the presence of one another before he speaks again. 

“I was so worried, you looked like hell climbing into that ambulance and I was so focused on making sure you were okay that when he brought me the paperwork, I froze.” 

Knowing the feeling, you nod, turning your hand over so that you can hold his. 

“I’m fine G, I promise, I’m just really, really tired, and I completely understand what you mean, when I heard him say that.. I wasn’t sure what to do. I wasn’t sure how to feel... I thought you’d be angry.” 

He plays with your fingers gently, shaking his head as you gnaw on your lip in exhausted nervousness. 

“I’d never be angry, especially at you, for whatever happened with the divorce.. So it didn’t go through, that’s not your fault, I just want you to be okay.” 

“So you’re not angry that we’re still legally married?” the question hangs in the air between you. 

“No.. No I’m not angry, neither of us moved on, and personally I’m happy that this turn of events has happened.” 

It so uncharacteristic of him, but given the current situation, you don’t really mind. You’re too busy trying to swallow that he said he was happy you two were married still. 

“I mean, if you still want this divorce, we can find out what happened and we can go through with it in its entirety, but..” 

“I don’t want it, G, please, I don’t want to lose you again.” 

The tears in your eyes aren’t ones of shock now, they’re ones of admittance, and he squeezes your hand softly, before his hand moves to your cheek to swipe away the tear that had escaped. 

“I don’t want it either, Y/N,” his voice is barely above a whisper. 

You’re broken from the moment by the curtain pulling back as the doctor enters, her eyes on the two of you as she smiles and introduces herself. 

“Lily told me you two were a sweet couple, unfortunately I’m not going to be as sweet, I have to stitch that nasty knee wound.” 

Another nurse steps in, a tray with the materials the doctor needs in his hands. 

“So, if you don’t mind, I’m just going to remove the bandage, clean it up and deposit some shots of freezing beneath the skin around the edges.” 

You nod, and grab for G’s hand once more as she gloves up before carefully removing the bandage, nips of pain bite at you as the edges pull away from one another, and you squeeze his hand. 

In silence the doctor injects the freezing, and you hiss a few choice words under your breath, Callen trying not to laugh at your cussing as he rubs your back, trying to soothe you.  

You watch as she dips the needle beneath your skin, threading the suture material through and securing her position before repeating her first movement. Intrigued, you watch the procedure and she wipes it with antibiotic ointment as she finishes. 

“Six stitches and you took them like a champ, I’m going to pop a bandage over top and then we’re going to sling that arm and get you an appointment to check in on both the shoulder and the knee, a brochure on care for both, and you can go home.” 

It seemed so routine for the doctor, and you can’t help but stare wide-eyed at G as she leaves, worried about how you were going to handle this. 

“I can see you panicking already, don’t, you’re staying with me.” 

He’s direct and to the point, and as you open your mouth to refuse, not wanting to impose, he puts up a finger to hush you. 

“Y/N, for god’s sake, we’re married.. You’re coming home.” 

You smile up at him, comfortable with what he proposes, and run your thumb over his as your hands remain curled up together, a burning desire to thank that medic.

A/N: Howdy! Sorry it’s been sort of radio silence from me for a while, been really busy. Anyway, here’s a request for Y/N being pregnant and Morgan knowing, but not Spencer, and he gets suspicious - Fuckeree

Rating: 14A

Warnings: None that I could think of

Imagine…

There were things that you told your best friend, and their were things that you told your husband, and then there were the common things that both of them knew anyway, but this ended up backwards.

This was supposed to be something that Spencer found out first, and then Derek and the rest of the team, but it never ended up happening the way you wanted it to, not when you hadn’t planned on anyone knowing until the end of the case.

It seemed that in life, unless you had things sort of figured out, they ended up going completely haywire and backwards, and in the end you were left with some ridiculous situation that you didn’t mean to happen.

You’d been thinking about it all week, trying to get some ideas set down about how to tell Spencer, and the rest would sort of just flow together, or so you thought. But at 41,000 feet in the air on the way to Tampa Bay, it was kind of hard to keep your plan together as you’re reliving breakfast. 

You had tied your hair back to avoid it falling into your face as you knelt in front of the toilet, toast and peppermint tea making their second appearance of the day as you gag a few times in between spells of throwing up. 

Morning sickness was just a cute name for something awful that lasted a hell of a lot longer than one morning, and you were experiencing it almost every single day. 

As you push yourself up and flush, making sure to rinse your mouth out with some water, you’re glad that you made sure you were clear to fly before getting on the jet, or else this could be so much worse. 

Brushing some fly away hairs back behind your left ear, you grin at yourself in the mirror and slowly open the door, sliding out of the small bathroom and into the quiet jet. 

Rossi and Hotch are quietly discussing the details of the case, while Spencer submerges himself in cross words, and Kate and JJ are talking about babies, and the future ahead, Derek is off to the side making some coffee. 

You could feel the craving for something, but you just couldn’t figure out what, and so you make your way over to the little mini kitchen beside him and try to figure it out. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he doesn’t look up from the mug sitting on the tiny counter top, but you gnaw at your lip and stare up at him any way. 

“Why do you ask?” you decide to play dumb, but the kitchenette is so close to the bathroom you know that there’s no possible way he couldn’t have heard your performance. 

He finally picks his head up, and the look in his eyes is one of understanding, and yet exasperation at the same time. “Come on darlin’, you can’t play me at my own game. What’s going on?”. 

Turning his back to the counter, he leans up against it and sips from his coffee, eyes never leaving your face as you try to make the hard decision on what to say. 

“If I’m going to be truthful, you’re going to keep it between us for now, okay?” it’s the ultimatum that you finally decide upon, and with raised eyebrows, he agrees. 

You take one last look down the jet to see if Spence is paying attention, but he’s so far from actually knowing where the two of you are that you could shout it and he probably wouldn’t click in just yet. 

“About a month ago I missed my.. Anyway, I start getting worried, nervous, calculating times and dates and wondering what the heck I’m supposed to do, but I didn’t want to just wait around and be anxious about it, so I skipped over the store bought stuff and went straight to my doctor. A blood test, a urine test, and multiple slightly disapproving looks later, he comes back in and I get the news that I am pregnant”. 

Morgan sputters into his cup, and coughs a few times to clear the liquid from his airway, as you reach out and pat his back, trying to quiet him. 

“Jesus Y/N, you’re a month pregnant and you didn’t even tell anyone?” his words flow so rapidly that you have trouble keeping up with them, and you have to keep hushing him so that attention isn’t drawn to the two of you. 

“A little under a month, three weeks, but I didn’t tell Spencer yet because I had all of these plans on how I was going to do it and I just.. I don’t know. But now you know, and you’re going to keep this between us, right?”. 

You weren’t sure if the pleading look in your eyes was going very far, but it must have, because he just sighed and nodded his head, setting down the coffee. 

“Yes, but I’m going to have my eyes on you, no matter what” he offers a hug, and you take it, grateful for the great guy he is. 

*Spencer’s POV* 

I didn’t let much get on my nerves, it was just something I didn’t let happen, because when you have the IQ I have, and the you think the way I think, things start to eat you alive after a while. 

This was eating me alive. 

Ever since the landing, Derek had been taking over the little things that I usually did, like carrying my wife’s bags, offering a hand off of the jet, and grabbing her water bottles and snacks.

But it wasn’t just that, he seemed to suddenly gravitate towards her, and I knew the feeling. She pulled everyone to her, she was beautiful and quiet but passionate as all hell and she could get fired up over the little things, and that just dragged people into how wonderful she was. 

He would constantly ask her how she was feeling, and on her many trips to the washroom, he’d wait outside the door and murmur to her, handing her a package of gum every time she came out. 

I wasn’t blind, and I wasn’t deaf, and I certainly could feel the frustration that these new behaviours were giving me, but why? I knew that she had been throwing up a little, but we had both pushed it off to a flu bug, and she was too stubborn to let that stop her. 

A few days in, I was starting to get worried that what was going on with them was a bit more than just regular best friend stuff like usual, and I had mentally slapped myself for even beginning to think that either of them would do that sort of thing, but being so wrapped up in it was starting to knock me off of my “game”. 

I’d miss cues when people were talking to me, I started losing sleep, and snapping at the little things. I was drinking more coffee than I had ever drank before in my life, and that was startling, but most of all, I had my focus on them instead of the case, and I couldn’t let it be that way. 

It was a hard decision to make, but I had decided that I needed to speak up come the time that we were getting ready to head back home, but my nerve was slowly tearing away the longer we were here, and it almost broke away entirely when we were actually on-site at the home address of the unsub.

He was shoulder to shoulder with her whenever we were in the field. If we were interviewing, it would be the three of us together, and he would say nothing other than to ask if she was feeling alright, if we were at the station, he would sit beside her, and the two of them would talk as if there was nobody else around, and even now, as we stand with guns drawn, vests strapped so tight none of us could take a deep breath, his hand is brushing her arm.

Y/N was the type to take the lead, it didn’t matter what we were doing, she was level headed and strong and she would put herself at the front, where all the dangers we faced were most prevalent. 

Out first case together, she had physically shoved me out of the way in order to take my place, directly in the line of fire, because she was afraid that I would get hurt. 

But now, without even trying to fight against him, she lets him move ahead of her and he claps her on the shoulder as he takes the lead of her team of three, actually moving to the farthest back, behind Derek and Hotch. 

The frustration is all in my head, and I fight my hardest to push it back and take over with control and a calm mind as we take on the house, knowing that he’s in there, possibly with the body of victim #7, Annaliese Bauhr. 

Rossi leads myself and JJ in, Kate is safe back with Garcia, keeping eyes and ears on our operation, and as Y/N and her group go out of sight, it gives me a moment to breathe and focus in on the task at hand. 

*Y/N’s POV* 

The rush was always exhilarating when we finally took down someone that had caused so much harm, and so much hurt, but you saw it in an entirely different way when you were at the back of the pack. 

When all was set and the local police had taken him into custody, you could all just breathe for a moment, thinking over everything that happened, and making minor detail changes for our next entrance and take down, but you weren’t doing much resting. 

You was bent over beside the SUV, Derek standing by your shoulder where you could see him, and holding your hair off to the side while you threw up for the third time today. 

“Shh, it’s alright darlin’, you’re doing just fine” he was patting your shoulder, helping you breathe through it, and you’re oblivious to everything else. 

“I’m done, I’m finished” your voice was hoarse as you fought back the taste, and he helped you straighten up, immediately fishing in his back pocket for the gum he was constantly carrying just for you. 

“You’re doing a great job” he says reassuringly, and you can’t help but grin at his positive side, that is, until Spencer comes storming around the side of the truck. 

“What the hell is going on back here? What the hell has been going on since we landed? I’ve been so stressed out and frustrated trying to figure out what I did wrong, what was so secretive that it was the Derek and Y/N show, all about being genuinely loving for one another and not wanting to be separated this whole damn time, but I just can’t figure it out. Maybe you want to enlighten me?”. 

Derek raises his hand to Spencer, but Spence shoves it out of the way and shakes his head. “I don’t need to be touched, I need answers, Y/N please” there’s a begging underneath his angry eyes, and you just stare at him. 

“Could you calm down maybe? And watch your language while you’re at it?” you knew it wasn’t real bad words, it was just getting to you in the heat of the moment. 

“No! I can’t! What the absolute fuck is happening with the two of you?” he’s yelling at this point, and you see the curious and confused faces of the team through the windows, staring over at the three of you. 

“Reid, chill out, and really man, you need to watch what you’re saying. There’s nothing going on between the two of us, I’m just being extra careful with her and making sure she’s okay”. 

He’s fuming at this point, and you step towards him, palms up in a sign of peace and calm. 

“But why, Derek? Is there something I can’t handle? Something I’m not doing? Why won’t you just tell me, Jesus Christ!” his arms are flying around, exaggerating his anger, and you finally snap. 

“Would you watch your language Spencer? Or would you like our baby to hear how foul mouthed their father is when he’s mad? Huh? Maybe that’s why Derek has been watching over me! Because we ARE HAVING A BABY!” you yell the last the four words, and everything seems to come to a screeching halt. 

The look on the faces of those around you could be memorialized in stone, and they still wouldn’t capture all of the emotion. 

“Wait.. Y/N..” Spencer comes toward you, and rests his hands on yours, squeezing your fingers. 

“You’re pregnant?” Hotch is the first to admit to hearing what they heard, and you just sigh, nodding your head. 

“I had this plan and it was going to be so much nicer than screaming it.. But you all know now.. I am expecting in eight months” you’re a little emotional at finally letting it be known, and Spence pulls you into him, holding you tightly against his body. 

Derek just pats your back, as Rossi grins, and JJ comes forward, next in line to give you a hug. “Two pregnant ladies at the BAU, we’re pretty badass mommies, huh?” she holds on for long enough that you feel at home, and calmed down by the time she lets go. 

A/N: Hey, I’ve been trying to keep up my activity by answering questions from that numbered post, but I only got one ask for them (THANK YOU TO THAT ANON!) So I decided to step up, and do some writing! This is for Derek and Y/N relaxing after a case - Fuckeree

Rating: PG13

Warnings: None that I can think of! 

Imagine…

There was nothing more enticing then the love of your life on the couch, arms open, quiet and gentle, eyes half closed as the television plays away to nobody in particular. 

The smell of dessert still wafts throughout the house, homemade red velvet cake, with cream cheese icing. 

Coming home from a case that had been as tasking as this one had usually meant a lot of sleep, a good home cooked meal, and endless moments of just being together. That was life, and you wouldn’t throw it away for anything else, even if somebody said it was better. 

You pick up the dishes, the table was otherwise clean, and take your time going about the kitchen, taking in every little crack and corner of home. It was sometimes hard to keep track of, especially the little things, when you’re away from it so often. 

Setting them down quietly in the sink, you run some warm water over them to make sure nothing sticks, and take in a deep breath, inhaling everything that you missed. 

The distant sound of Derek snoring infiltrates your silent thoughts, and at the same time it makes everything almost even quieter, as ridiculous as that sounds. 

With a calmed grin on your face, you push your hair back from your forehead and sigh, not realizing how tired you were until he gave in to how exhausted he was. 

You try to be almost silent as you creep back into the living room, and pick up a blanket off of the back of the reclining chair. With slow movements, you pivot back over toward him and lay the blanket over his body, watching as he stirs, before his hands take grip of it and pull it up to his chin. 

His snoring stops for a mere moment, and his eyelids flutter, so you step back and stay as quiet as you possibly can, but it just doesn’t work. 

His dark eyes look up at you, still sleepy and dazed but wide and welcoming. 

“Trying to sneak away on me?” his voice is that gravelly, soft and low toned voice that he always has when he’s just waking up, and it makes you melt every time. 

“Just trying not to wake you up is all” his smile is lazy and small, but it’s there, as he lifts the blanket back some and gestures to the small space left on the couch.

“Come here” he grumbles, and you watch as he pats the spot, his arms so welcoming, as if they were your home within a home. 

You pull your hair around your shoulder so that it won’t fall on his face, and kick off your slippers. “Bring that fine ass over here” he teases, and you can’t help but shake it at him as you crawl onto the sofa. 

You’re careful not to elbow or knee him as you wriggle yourself into the small area, as he patiently waits to pull the blanket over you. 

“How are you?” he asks, his chin nuzzled into your neck as his bristled beard tickles and scratches your skin. 

“I’m okay, I’m tired, and cold” he presses his lips to your cheek, and down your jaw to your collarbone as he tightens his grip, pulling you closer to him and tucks the blanket around your body. 

“Well we can’t have that, can we baby?” he reaches up and pulls his sweater down from the top of the couch. “Here, sit up for a second” he helps you up and and drapes his sweater over the front of you, tying the sleeves behind your back. 

“There, now you’re layered, and you’re mine” it smells of him, the way he smelled before he kissed you passionately, the way he smelled when he came home from running, the way he smelled as he stood in the kitchen with your breakfast on the way. 

“I couldn’t ask for anything else” you breath, turning your head so that you can see him, all of him, and your breath hitches as you see the way he looks back down at you. 

You act instinctively, laying your hand on his cheek and pulling him in, your lips on his as his massive hands wrap around your sides, his body warmth enough to make you feel ablaze. 

He smiles into it, pulling back before kissing your forehead, his breath hot against your skin. 

“I think the warmth is coming back now” you tease, hands on his toned stomach, as he laughs.