#ofwilliamandwalter

🍸 Spencer's Sauvignon Blanc - send me a character + prompt and i'll write you a small blurb!

"Is this OK?" Spencer asked quietly, his fingers freshly entwined with mine.

I giggled. "What? You holding my hand or you taking me out for sushi for our first official date?"

His cheeks blushed crimson, a tone to match the wrapper of the chopsticks he'd been fiddling with since we sat down. "Both."

I gave him a small smile, but nodded. "It's perfect."

The waiter appeared, one menu in hand. "My apologies. It's a very busy night. This was the only menu I could find," he said, a nervous sigh settling on his tongue.

Spencer blushed even darker at this, avoiding eye contact with both me and the waiter.

After taking our drink order, the waiter left us alone once again. I stood, sliding myself into Spencer's side of the booth. "Is this OK?" I said, a giggle nearly falling from my tongue.

He simply nodded, turning his attention to the menu and away from me. His breathing became heavy as he looked over the menu, something it had been doing a lot since he finally told me he liked me.

The rest of the date went similarly to this, the two of us making awkward small talk until our food arrived, eating in a silence that was almost as awkward as the small talk, and quite frankly, an even more awkward walk around the park near my apartment.

It wasn't until the last five minutes of our walk that I finally convinced him to lace his fingers between mine again, his breath shaky at the sensation.

We continued the walk back to my apartment in silence, though this time, it was a much more comfortable silence.

"So, this is your building," he said, looking down at his shoes as he removed his hand from mine.

"Yep," I answered, popping the p a little harder than I'd meant to.

"It's a very nice building. Much nicer than my old, run-down building. I'm surprised the elevator hasn't broken down on my ride up to my apartment," he uttered, an expression on his face that announced he was being betrayed by his lips.

We both stayed silent for a beat, until he mentioned, "But you already knew that because you've visited my apartment before."

"Spencer-"

"Is it- is it hot out here or is it just me?" he asked, adjusting his scarf. "The temperature was supposed to be 65° tonight but I'm still extremely hot. Are you hot?" His eyes widened. "I-I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you are hot. Not hot but pretty. Oh, my God-"

"Spencer, will you please just shut up and kiss me goodnight?" I asked.

His cheeks went red, a maroon shade almost as red as the lipstick I wore, a color that was twice as dark as his cheeks had been earlier. "Are you sure?"

I placed both my hands on either side of his face, pulling him toward me. "Yes, I'm sure." And with that, our lips met, a sensation that not even a romance novel could ever describe.

He pulled away first, those hazel eyes expanding so wide, I wasn't sure they wouldn't reach his hairline. "I'm sorry."

I chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Why are you sorry?"

"Ever since I realized I like you, I get this weird feeling in my stomach. It's kinda like I wanna throw up. Not in a bad way! In an exciting way. Sorta like when you're in line for a roller-coaster. Not that I've ever done that because roller-coasters scare me. Anyway, it makes my hands shake and I get all sweaty. That's gross. Anyway-"

"Spencer, what you're experiencing is called butterflies."

"What?" he asked, his brows furrowing.

"You've got butterflies in your tummy."

"Butterflies don't just appear in your stomach. That's not scientifically possi-"

"Spencer Reid, you have butterflies in your tummy. Would you like me to make them go away?"

"I don't under-"

I cut him off with another kiss, his breath hitching as my hands moved back to his face. Once again, he pulled away first, his cheeks heating up yet again.

He scratched at the base of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can you do it again? I'm not sure it fully worked."

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☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆

You weren't quite sure how you found yourself in this position, but one way or another, you were stuck at the BAU… with Spencer Reid. Only Spencer Reid.

It wouldn't have been the worst thing in the world if you didn't have the biggest (and probably most unrequited) crush on the man.

You'd been working together for two years, straight out of the Training Academy. He must've been so smart he skipped training, you reckoned, because you were sure you would've seen someone as beautiful as him around and probably would've failed from being distracted by him.

Spencer looked much different now then when you'd first met, and if he'd looked like that in training, you were sure you would've tripped during your high speed chase at Hogan's Alley. His shaggy hair was replaced with neatly trimmed waves, his contacts were replaced with glasses that made him carry himself with a confidence you hadn't seen when you first met, and his shy, questioning smile was replaced with one of certainty. He seemed much more like his true self.

Any other time, you might've not minded being snowed in at the BAU. After all, it was a big enough building—a library on the second floor, a coffee shop on the first. But tonight was Christmas Eve, and you cursed yourself for insisting that you could finish up your paperwork and have time to make it to Penelope's apartment for a Christmas movie night.

Only five pages remained of your work when Spencer stepped toward your desk. "The Weather Channel says we might be snowed in." he'd said, his voice stupidly sweet, his expression stupidly concerned, his face stupidly beautiful.

Here you were, three hours later, sipping on some hot chocolate in your favorite work mug and avoiding Spencer like a plague. This was especially hard considering you were the only two people on this floor.

"You OK?" he asked, breaking you from your online shopping trance. "Well," he chuckled, "all things considered."

No. I'm trapped in here with the person I find most attractive who probably doesn't find me the least bit attractive. "All good," you smiled before taking another sip of hot chocolate.

He sat down in the chair next to yours, (Derek's, but it wasn't like he was there to use it anyway). A sideways smile stretched across his face as he said, "Well, please don't take offense when I say this, but I am a profiler and I can tell when something seems wrong. You've been avoiding me for one thing and every time we have spoken, you say three words or less."

"Not true," you pouted, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Your words reverberated in your ears, realization hitting you like a bus. "Sorry," you said, looking away. "I'm just not having the best night. I mean, I am stuck in the BAU with-"

You stopped abruptly, not sure how you'd let that much slip. Great, Y/N. Just great.

"With what?" he asked. Of course he caught that.

"Without Piper. She's my tabby cat." Well, at least he knows how much you love animals.

His mouth twisted. "You have a cat? That's so cool. I've always wanted a cat but I couldn't own one because my mom and I both have cat allergies." Of course he has cat allergies. How could I possibly make this worse?

Luckily, you stopped yourself before any more embarrassing things could slip from your tongue. Instead you took another sip of chocolatey goodness, thankful that it was the last one. "I'm gonna go make some more hot chocolate," you managed to say.

Much to your dismay, Spencer followed behind, reaching up into the shelf directly above you. His chest gently nudged your back, though his body felt rock solid. When did Spencer get so buff under those sweater vests?

"Sorry," he said with a blush.

You shook your head, perhaps a tad too fast. "It's all good." You turned your attention back to the fridge, grabbing the milk for your cocoa. Thank goodness Penelope stocks this fridge like she owns it.

A couple minutes had passed and you'd finished making your cocoa just as Spencer finished making his cup of coffee. You turned to walk back to the bullpen, but he grabbed your wrist with his free hand. Damn those hands. "Hey, are you sure you're OK?"

You set your mug back on the counter, your arms crossing tightly in front of your chest. "I am fine, Reid."

His eyes softened and his brows furrowed. "Did I do something?"

Your stomach churned at the thought of ever making Spencer sad or distressed. "Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"You keep avoiding me. You tensed up when I reached around you for my mug. You won't make eye contact with me. I'm just scared I've done something."

You shook your head, giving him a reassuring smile. "Spencer, you could never. I promise. I love you too much to ever-"

"You what?"

You froze in your tracks. If it hadn't been for hearing your slip of the tongue, Spencer might've thought you'd been seen a ghost.

"You love me?" he asked.

You couldn't move, you couldn't breathe, and the only thing you were sure you could do was hear because his question echoed in your head like he'd screamed it at the Grand Canyon.

"Y/N?" he called, waving a hand in front of your face. It wasn't until you blinked that he was sure you were still alive. You wanted to disappear. When you remembered that Spencer knew magic tricks, you were tempted to ask him how much you'd have to pay to see him make you disappear into thin air.

"If it's any consolation, I think I like you, which I know isn't the same but…" he told you, his voice trailing awkwardly. At least you weren't awkward alone. He chuckled for a moment before examining, "I sound like a seventh grader right now, don't I?"

Some of the heaviness left your chest as his response rang through your eardrums. "You… like me?"

He nodded softly, his cheeks tinged as red as your favorite Christmas mug. "I do. I'm assuming by what you said that you must really like me too."

You let out a deep sigh before looking up at him. "If I have to be honest, I've had the biggest crush on you since the day I met you. Up until about twenty seconds ago, I just assumed it was unrequited. I mean, the way you always looked at Elle before she left-"

He blushed with an awkwardly amused huff. "I suppose I should admit that I always thought Elle was pretty. Doesn't mean I thought she was prettier than you."

This time, a rouge made its way to your own cheeks. "Really? I mean, Elle's got everything. A nice body, she's smart, she's beautiful, and I'm… well, I'm me."

An expression of reassurance overtook his face as he placed a hand on your shoulder. "You are both beautiful in your own ways. You shouldn't compare yourself to others. Yes, I liked you both, but for different reasons. I always thought Elle was pretty. But you… I think you're beautiful. And you've always been kind to me. You're one of the only people here who respects my neurodiversity."

Your eyes darted away awkwardly, up to the roof—or rather, what was hanging from the roof. Why does the universe hate me?

Spencer must've noticed your eyes, widened and focused on whatever was above his head. His head tilted upward, and you were secretly thankful your eyes were stuck to the roof, otherwise you might've melted on the spot after seeing that one stupidly beautiful vein in his neck. "Huh," he said, his tone the most nonchalant you'd ever heard, "mistletoe."

"Yep," you replied, the p popping louder than you'd expected it to.

He looked back down at you, his cheeks redder and hotter than ever. "Hey, traditions are stupid anyway. We don't have to-"

He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed your lips twist the slightest bit downward. Even you hadn't noticed it until he was grabbing your face and pulling your lips into his, forcing them upward again.

He smelled sweet, probably because of the fifteen spoonfuls of creamer and sugar he always put in his coffee. Your stomach turned, probably a mix of nerves from your current position and the sickeningly sweet smell of Spencer Reid (or his coffee, anyway).

His hands stayed on either side of your face as he pulled away. You let out a giggle as you saw the remnants of your favorite lipstick coating his lips.

Spencer's wristwatch beeped loudly, breaking you away from your trance. He glanced down at his wrist while his other hand darted up to the nape of his neck. "Merry Christmas?" he said, cringing.

You giggled once more, pulling him in for another kiss. "Merry Christmas, sweet boy."

Rups, my dear!!!! This was such a cute request and I am so glad with how it turned out!

I wrote this probably ten times and nothing ever seemed good enough. I'm sure you as a writer understand that sometimes, you make your standards way too high for your own self 🤣 But, finally, one last time I deleted the document and started anew... and this is what happened! I love it so so much and I hope you do too!!

As always, thank you for being so patient with me. Sometimes requests take me a little while because I want to have the vision as beautiful as the requester has made it out to be so it does take me a lil bit longer sometimes to do that. Thank you for your patience, my dear!!!

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☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆

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Hotch wiped the sleep from his eyes as he let out a loud yawn. "Alright, everyone, it's been a long day. Head back to the hotel and get some rest. We'll meet back here in the morning," he instructed, followed by another yawn.

Everyone headed toward the door sluggishly, being hit with a whiff of night air as Derek opened the door.

"Shoot," Spencer exhaled as his foot hit the second stair.

"What is it?" I managed to ask through a yawn of my own.

"I forgot my bag," he explained, heading back toward the door.

"I can wait here."

A crimson color flushed over his cheeks. "No, that's OK. You go ahead with everyone else. I'll be right behind you guys."

I shrugged my shoulders in response, watching as he disappeared back into the police station. Little did he know I wasn't taking no for an answer, promptly sitting down on the brick steps and pulling my windbreaker tighter to my arms to shield them from the coldness of the October night air.

I nearly fell asleep on the steps as I waited for him, checking my watch just to see how long I'd been waiting. "Twenty minutes is a long time to search for a bag," I thought, pushing myself up.

I wandered through the precinct, eventually pacing into the office we'd been previously working in. I immediately spotted Spencer, who was writing something on the whiteboard and Hotch, who was looking over some files at the desk.

"What are you two doing in here?" I asked, one of my eyebrows cocking upward.

"I'm working," Hotch answered, "He's supposed to be searching for his bag but apparently he's decided to work as well."

My hands flew to my hips. "I thought you were right behind us," I mentioned, directed at Spencer.

He had the face of a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. "I was…" his voice dragged off.

"Then what are you doing in here?"

"Well, I figured if Hotch was staying all night that he might need some help," he answered, his puppy-dog eyes prominent. "Honestly, I didn't think anyone would notice if I stayed behind."

A pang stung my heart as I listened to his answer. "Of course I'd notice. I promised I'd wait for you."

His brows furrowed as he asked, "You've been waiting out in the cold for me for almost a half hour?"

"Yes, I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me," I answered deadpan.

"Never," he chuckled, "I honestly thought you'd gone with everyone else."

Hotch walked toward the doorway, fist tight around the files he carried. "Well, if the two of you are going to stay, could you actually work and stop gabbing?" he sassed, stalking out the door.

Spencer's cheeks blushed red as he turned back to the board in front of him. He quickly put his attention back on the geographical profile.

I couldn't help but giggle as I placed my bag down and promptly got back to work.

A couple hours came and went, I wasn't sure how long it had been exactly. I found myself combing through the suspect list, my eyes growing heavy as I scanned over each page.

I let out a long yawn as I glanced at my watch. "How is there only a half an hour 'til midnight?" I grumbled, looking up at Spencer from my spot in the office chair.

"This is not how I imagined I'd be spending my birthday this year," Spencer commented nonchalantly.

My mouth fell agape in disbelief. "Tomorrow's your birthday and you didn't remind me?"

He shrugged his shoulders before turning to face me. "I didn't think it was all that important."

"We have to celebrate!" I told him. "I'm not quite sure where I could get a birthday cake at this time of night but I'm sure I could find something."

"You aren't going anywhere," he insisted. "If you leave, I swear my ghost will haunt you forever."

I pouted, the same pout a kid would give their parent when they told them "no" to eating sweets before dinner. "But I wanna celebrate you!"

He rolled his eyes, turning back around. "You act like a child when you're sleep deprived," he commented.

"How about this? I won't leave, but I will treat you to whatever snack you want from the vending machine."

He mumbled something under his breath, just loud enough for me to understand his aggravation. "You aren't going to let this go, are you?" he commented at full volume.

"Nope," I answered, the p popping loudly.

"OK, fine," he muttered, "but you aren't allowed to celebrate until after midnight."

"I'll have my alarm set."

And with that, I turned my attention back to the files in front of me, most of my strength being put into the act of holding my eyes open.

I wasn't quite sure how it happened, but just as soon as I'd closed my eyes to blink, I was awakening from a short slumber.

Or what I thought was a short slumber.

I frantically rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I pushed myself up from my previous position of resting my head on the hard, wooden desk. I looked down at my watch, registering that the clock had somehow magically skipped from 11:45 to 2:15.

"You let me sleep for two and a half hours? And miss your birthday?" I whined, sleep heavily coating my throat.

"To be fair," he answered, pausing for a yawn, "I wasn't born until the afternoon so technically you didn't miss it."

I pushed myself up from the office chair, stretching out my arms as I plodded toward him. "What would you like from the machine?" I asked, pulling my wallet out of my purse.

His mouth scrunched as he thought, presumably attempting to figure out his answer. "What's your favorite?"

"No," I argued, "it's your birthday. I wanna buy you a snack."

"Buy something we can share," he instructed.

And with that, I trudged out of the office and over to the vending machine. My eyes scanned all the options, contemplating what he'd like most.

My eyes landed on a bag of those mini chocolate muffins. Bingo. Sure, it wasn't a traditional cake or cupcake, but Spencer liked chocolate more than anyone I'd ever met.

I punched in the number, watching eagerly as the bag slid down to the bottom of the machine. After marching back to the meeting room, I held out the muffins in front of the birthday boy himself.

"You like these?" he inquired, his eyebrows ruffling.

"Why? Do you not like them?" I fretted, my eyes darting away from him.

"No, they're my favorite," he answered reassuringly. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't buy them just for me."

I shook my head. "They're for us to share. If you want to share them, that is."

"Of course."

And with that, he ripped open the package, placing a muffin in my hand before popping one into his mouth.

I tossed the muffin into my mouth, savoring the taste of chocolate and sugar. I watched as Spencer turned his attention away from the muffins and back to the files in his hand, mentally deciding that he worked himself too hard.

"Coffee delivery," Hotch said as he paced through the door with a drink carrier, three steaming hot cups of coffee being held in place.

"Where the hell did you find coffee at this hour of the night?" I asked, taking the cup marked pumpkin spice latte from the cardboard carrier.

"You'd be surprised how many twenty-four-hour coffee shops New York City has to offer," he chuckled, taking his presumably plain black coffee from the container and pressing it to his lips.

Spencer took the last drink, looking over the label on the side. I assumed it was most likely a caramel latte—Spencer's favorite—my suspicions being confirmed when he commented, "Thank you for remembering my order. Morgan and JJ usually get it wrong."

My heart felt heavy when I considered Spencer's comments throughout the night—his comment about nobody caring if he stayed behind, his comment about how his birthday wasn't important, and now his comment about everyone forgetting his coffee order. If it hadn't been considered weird, I might've given him a reassuring kiss just to let him know that even if no one else did, I cared.

I pushed my feelings to the back of my mind, placing them in the "to figure out later" box in my mind. One good thing that came from this job was learning how to be good at compartmentalization.

One hour turned into two, two turned into three, and before we knew it, the sun was on the brink of rising, light orange colors painting the sky outside the slightly ajar window (Spencer had claimed the fresh air from the window helped him think better).

"You two head back to the hotel," Hotch instructed.

"What about this?" Spencer fretted, motioning to the stack of files that sat on the edge of the desk.

"I've got this. The others will be here in about an hour. You two go rest up. Enjoy your day off."

"Day off?" I questioned. "Hotch, we don't-"

"Go," he commanded, "you two have worked harder than I've seen anyone work in a long time. If I see you come back within the next twenty-four hours, I'll have to write you up and then Strauss will get involved. Do you guys really want that?"

The two of us shook our heads, managed a quick, "Thank you," before heading out into the coolness of the morning air.

Luckily, our hotel was only a ten-minute walk from the precinct, prompting us to not drive in our exhausted state.

I watched as the sunrise glistened over Spencer's skin, the rays practically sparkling on the dark freckles of his arms. The oranges and pinks in the sky nearly illuminated his lips, making them look even more plump and pink than they did before. He looked pretty like this.

"What?" he said, a chuckle sitting at the edge of his tongue.

"Nothing," I answered, internally embarrassed that he'd caught me staring.

We walked a few more feet in silence, a comfortable kind of silence that I'd probably only enjoy with Spencer.

He ended up being the one to break the silence, initially letting out a verbal yawn before saying, "Thank you, by the way."

"You're welcome," I replied, lightly nudging his shoulder with mine, "It's the least I could do. I'm sorry you had to spend your birthday pulling an all-nighter and sifting through suspect files."

"Eh, it's OK. At least I got to do it with you."

For a second, I thought he might kiss me. To be honest, I was hoping he would. Instead, he just looked down at my hand for a moment before looking back up so as to ask for permission.

I nodded in approval, a half-smile finding its way to my lips as he wrapped his fingers around mine. He caressed the back of my hand with his thumb, his silent way of saying, "Thank you again."

I lay my head against his shoulder as we continued our trek, my silent way of replying, "You didn't even have to ask."

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Happy birthday, my favorite libra boy!! You really have completed 41 trips around the sun!

Alright, I know you aren't real in this universe 🥲 but someday, I'm gonna shift and get to tell you all this in person.

I love you so much Spencer Reid, happy birthday my chocolate-loving genius 🫶🏻

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"Where did you take him?" she growled, grip tight around the gun in her hand.

"For the last time, Ruby, we don't know where your son is," I huffed. "Oliver was placed in foster care after your arrest. We don't know where he went or if he even has the same name."

My eyes darted over to Spencer. His chest heaved, tears brimmed his eyes, and his leg bounced as best it could through the restraints around his ankles.

I could tell Spencer was headed toward sensory overload, most likely caused by both the flex cuffs around his wrists and ankles and the volume of her shouting. One of Spencer's many sensory triggers was plastic, the texture he hated most. He had a couple sensory overload tells, but his most dominant tell was his fidgeting leg.

My face softened as I looked over him. I craved Spencer's touch constantly, but when I saw him in situations like this, I wanted to wrap him up tight and prove to him that things would be OK.

Ruby must've noticed my look of sympathy, prompting her to shout, "Hey, don't look at him! Look at me!"

My eyes flickered over to her, watching as she paced. Her face contorted from a look of anger to a look of curiosity as she paced over to Spencer.

"If you won't tell me where Ollie is," she said, sliding a singular bullet into the chamber, "then I'll just have to make you tell me."

Click!

"Ruby, don't do this," I pleaded. "What will Oliver think of his mother when he finds out she killed a federal agent?"

Spencer's chest heaved five times harder than it already was. "Please," he managed weakly, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Tell me where he is."

I couldn’t take it anymore. "Ruby, I already told you a hundred times-"

Click!

"Y/N, please make her stop!" Spencer begged.

My mind raced as I attempted to find some way to calm them both. I thought through my options, trying to find something to give me leverage over her.

I knew I shouldn't, it was the one thing Spencer hated telling people about himself, but I knew it might work. I knew it might make Ruby take a step back and consider her son. "Ruby, he has autism."

She pressed the barrel to his skin, surely hard enough to cause an imprint. "No, he doesn't. You're lying."

"I'm not lying. He has autism, just like Oliver," I told her. "He’s going into sensory overload. You wouldn't do that to Oliver, would you? So please don’t do it to Spencer either."

She scoffed, her eyes rolling sarcastically. "You're just saying that so I'll feel bad."

"It's true," Spencer whimpered, "I got diagnosed last year, not long after you lost Oliver."

Click!

"Tell me where Ollie is," she demanded once more, still holding the gun close to Spencer's forehead.

"I already told you a million times, Ruby. We don't-"

"'Know where he is.' Yeah, I know. We've been over that song and dance before," she antagonized. "I'll put the gun down when you tell me where my son is."

I rolled my eyes at her, throwing my head back in frustration. "You wanna know where he is, Ruby?"

Her eyes lit up, her expression filled with sarcasm. "I was wondering when you'd get the message."

My eyes narrowed as she walked closer to me. I leaned up close to her face once she was close enough. "He's living with a nice family who could take way better care of him than your sorry ass ever could," I spat. "He's living with a nice family where the mom isn't a hit woman and the dad is actually in the picture."

BOOM!!!

My ears rang as a gunshot sounded off throughout the room. My eyes screwed shut as tears slid down my face.

"Are you two OK?" I heard a familiar voice ask from across the room.

I slowly opened my eyes, spotting Rossi and Morgan as they walked over to untie us. My mouth fell agape as I registered the fact that Spencer was still alive and breathing. "You're OK," I managed through shallow breaths.

"I'm OK," he confirmed. "What about you?"

Once Rossi had successfully untied me and Morgan had untied Spencer, we rushed over to each other, falling into each other's arms. "I'm OK now," I answered.

Spencer kept his distance during the ambulance ride to the hospital. Luckily, I was able to plead with the driver to keep the siren turned off for Spencer's sake, though I could tell the flashing of the light did nothing to ease his overstimulation.

Once we reached the hospital, I stayed close enough to Spencer to let him know I wasn't leaving his side. The nurse allowed me to share an exam room with him too after I explained our situation.

The room stayed mostly silent, save for us answering the doctors' questions. Spencer's heart rate was still extremely high, probably the result of him having difficulties with calming down after such high stakes situations.

Slowly, I stood from my seat, sitting down beside him on the exam table. "Are you OK?" I whispered.

He nodded slowly, avoiding eye contact with me. "Hey, do you think Rossi and Morgan heard what you said? A-about my diagnosis, I mean."

I exhaled, attempting to figure out how to answer his question. "I'm not sure."

"You don't think they'll make fun of me, do you?" he asked, his volume matching that of mine. "I don't want them to think I'm less capable in the field now that everyone's suspicions have been confirmed."

I held my hand close to his face, not touching him quite yet. "May I?"

He swallowed hard, but nodded nonetheless.

I pressed my hand to his cheek, wiping the remnants of his tears. "No one is going to think you're less capable. And if they did, I'd beat their ass for being ableist."

He cracked a small smile, his eyes finally fluttering up to meet mine. "Thank you."

"I love you, Spencer. I would've never said that if I hadn't thought it would help the situation. I thought telling her about your diagnosis might make her take a step back and think about her actions," I explained. "I'm sorry it didn't work as well as I'd hoped."

"I love you too," he whispered, leaning into my touch.

The room stayed silent for a moment, a comfortable silence I'd craved ever since we'd been taken hostage in the first place. I listened to his breathing, feeling a sense of serenity wash over me as I heard shallow breaths turn into deeper, calmer breaths.

"Y/N?" he spoke again after a couple minutes.

"Hmm?" I hummed, still running my thumb across the soft skin of his cheek.

"Can you kiss me?" he asked, his eyes immediately darting away. "I think it might help distract me."

I gave him a soft smile before leaning in, placing my lips on his. His lips were slightly cracked and dry, but I didn't care.

"Thank you," he whispered as he broke away.

"Of course," I smiled. "Kisses make everything better."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

i don't wanna talk about how much i hate the title of this aldjslshsksgajs

you know what i do wanna talk about tho? how much i love georgia and gracie 🫶🏻

bc they both saw the potential in this fic and gave me so many pointers on making this better for you guys. i just wanna give them both a lil shoutout. love u guys 🥰

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"Babe, don't you think that's a little much?" I giggled from my bed, watching Spencer as he struggled to make it through the door with three suitcases, a duffel bag, and his messenger bag.

"You never know how long we're gonna be here," he commented.

"Do not curse me like that!" I held up a playfully scolding finger. "We're here for antibiotics and antibiotics only. This time tomorrow, we'll be signing discharge papers."

His lips pressed into a tight smile as he kissed me quickly. "I hope so," he replied, placing the duffel bag and his messenger bag on the end of my bed.

My eyes watched as he turned back to the suitcases, scooting them into the corner neatly. This man and his organization.

After a moment, I finally spoke up again, guilt filling my voice. "Hey, I'm sorry I made you come back early."

He laughed, sitting down lightly near my feet. "Are you kidding me? I'd much rather be here with you than in Chicago mapping out a geographical profile."

My lips curved into a small pout. "I don't wanna let the team down by taking you away from them."

"Love," he said, placing a hand gently on my leg, "your health and your wellbeing matters way more to me than the team. They've worked without me before. I have no doubt they'll be able to do it again."

In true "turn that frown upside down" fashion, my pout quickly contorted into a small smile. My voice was light as I told him, "That is one of the many reasons I love you."

He gave me a grin to match the one I'd given him. "For better or for worse, right?"

Leave it to the universe to pick worse…

Twenty-four hours later, instead of signing discharge papers, I found myself signing consent papers for surgery.

"Dr. Summers will be in shortly with your anesthesia," the nurse smiled, taking the clipboard from my hands.

I gave her a smile as best I could, my leg beginning to nervously bounce as soon as she pulled the curtain closed. My mind was racing. Anxious thought after anxious thought filled every crevice of my brain.

Spencer must've caught onto my anxiety, seeing as he pulled his chair closer to my bedside. "You've got this," he said, like a declaration that everything would be OK.

Still, my mind couldn't possibly compute the idea of me being fine after finding out I'd need emergency surgery. My hands trembled as they made their way to his, continuing to shake as I held on tight to his hands.

"Atrium."

My brows creased as I finally made eye contact with him. "What?"

"When I get nervous, I list my favorite word for each letter of the alphabet. I call it 'The Alphabet Game.' Atrium is my favorite 'A' word," he explained. "I just think it's a fun word to say."

My eyebrows un-ruffled as I let out a huff. "We've been together for how long and you've never told me that?"

In what I assumed was an attempt to distract me, he turned our attention back to his game. "Come on, try it. It's fun," he said. "What's your favorite 'A' word?"

"Uh…" my voice trailed as I racked my brain. "Apple?"

He scoffed playfully. "That's a boring one. Surely, you have a better one."

I attempted to brainstorm more words, coming up mostly empty. "Um, authentic."

"That's a good one," he told me. "Alright, B… bibliophile."

For the first time in over twenty-four hours, I finally cracked a grin. "I should've known," I commented, reaching up to run a hand through his slightly messy hair. "Hmmm, I like badass."

"Does that count?" he inquired, "Isn't that technically two words?"

My mouth fell agape in playful disbelief. "Now, Spencer Reid, you didn't tell me there were rules to this game."

He chuckled once more, leaning over to peck my forehead. "You're right, I'm sorry.

"Besides, badass is one word. You just don't use your sentence enhancers enough to know."

He shook his head playfully. "Alright, for C, I'll say cacomistle."

"What the hell is that?"

"It's kind of like a raccoon. They live in Central America. Really anywhere between Mexico and Panama."

My eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Interesting," I commented, slightly amused at his nerdiness. "Cauliflower."

"Why cauliflower?" he inquired, a laugh threatening to spill off his tongue.

"I just think it's a fun word to say."

This game went on for quite some time, the two of us tossing random words at each other. Just an innocent game between two lovers… until it wasn't innocent anymore.

"Hmmm, I can't think of anything for K. You got anything?" he asked.

"Hmmm," I hummed, considering all the possibilities. "Koala? That one's kinda boring though."

Just then, he let out a small string of snickers. "Sorry," he managed, followed by another quiet laugh.

My eyebrows furrowed once again. "What?"

"I, uh… I thought of a slightly inappropriate word," he said through a fit of chuckles.

My arms crossed tightly in front of my chest as I rebutted, "Well, now you have to tell me."

He snickered once more, covering his mouth in what I assumed was embarrassment. "I am ashamed to say I thought of the word knockers."

My eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets in disbelief as I laughed so hard. I was surprised when the nurses didn't show up to shush me. "Spencer Reid!" I scolded through my laughter.

He laughed right back as he added, "This game went in a much different direction than I'd expected."

"OK, moving on," I giggled. "What about L?"

His mouth scrunched as he began to hold in another laugh. "Lube."

I rolled my eyes, holding in a simper of my own. "We're getting a divorce," I joked. "I can't believe you right now."

"OK, do you have a better one?"

I thought for a moment before my brain drew a blank. "I suppose not. I think you fried my brain," I giggled. "OK, let's move on. The next letter is M, and I swear if you say mas-"

"I'm not gonna say it," he said, almost like a dare to himself. "I can do better than that."

The room stayed silent for a beat, save for the light sound of snickers as we both attempted to think of a new word.

I could've sworn I actually saw Spencer's eyes light up as he exclaimed, "I got it! Missionary."

"You know I can't have sex for at least two weeks after I have these setons placed, right?"

"Damn, that long?" he pouted. "I guess the other word works better after all, huh?"

"I'm going to kill you," I said, letting out a short string of tickled huffs.

As both a nurse and the anesthesiologist slipped past the curtain, Spencer and I found ourselves struggling to act casually.

"OK, Mrs. Reid, are you ready?" Dr. Summers greeted me with a small smile.

I could tell from Spencer's breaths that he was struggling not to burst out laughing right there.

Spencer had one of the most contagious laughs I'd ever come across. So, it was no surprise that I found myself struggling to hold back a string of giggles. I felt tears brimming my eyes as I managed to answer, "Mhm."

"Now, unfortunately this is when you have to part with your husband," she said with a half-frown.

Spencer leaned over, leaving a long kiss on my lips. I took in his familiar scent one last time, trying to remind myself that it would be the first thing I smelled when I woke up.

Once our lips had parted, he leaned in close to my ear, a smirk almost audible in his tone as he whispered, "Nuts."

As if the floodgates of laughter had finally been opened, the chain of snickers I'd been holding back finally fell from my lips. Through my giggles, I managed to apologize. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's perfectly OK," the nurse from before smiled. "It's nice to see someone with a happy spirit in conditions like these," she commented as she began to wheel me off.

Spencer walked behind us for a few feet, until he reached the point where he couldn't follow anymore.

"I love you," he made sure I heard. "You've got this."

I watched as the double doors closed behind us, shaking my head in both pure disbelief and pure love for my husband. "I love you too, you big nut."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

OK so I clearly have to address the elephant in the room

This idea came to me when I was lying in my own hospital bed waiting for my own setons to be placed. I just randomly started listing words and I was like, "This is so Spencer Reid of me." And then my brain just kinda spiraled and at some point, I started thinking of less NSFW words and then this idea came about. It's very special to me, it's definitely helped me cope with everything that happened.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed part two of Whumptober! i look forward to seeing you guys again on Saturday for part three! 🫶🏻

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☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆

🍸 Ale for Aaron Hotchner - send me a character + a scenario/au and i'll tell you some headcanons i have!

Spencer had been the first to know when Hugo had passed.

Hugo was your 17-year-old brown tabby cat, who'd been with you since you were a kid.

When you moved out on your own, your parents had even let you take him with you, seeing as they knew he was your best friend, above any human.

And Spencer knew this fact. One of the first things that was established when he asked you to be his girlfriend was that Hugo was the sole most important thing in your life. He was like your child, almost like your soulmate (if cats could have soulmates)

So when you called him, your voice thick with tears, and said, "Hugo's gone," his heart began to ache along with yours.

He became a little extra clingy in the weeks that followed Hugo's death, his silent way of telling you he was right there if and when you needed him.

You slowly eased into your new routine, though life didn't get any easier when you came home and spotted his old toys sticking out from underneath the sofa or when you remembered his food bowl in the corner of the kitchen.

Little did you know, Spencer had the perfect idea to cheer you up.

He'd been in talks with Penelope and Emily to see if Sergio's breeder had any kittens available, and when the breeder finally contacted Spencer, his heart nearly melted when he found out there was one left.

It turned out to be a little girl, pitch black with tiny, white paws and the smallest patch of white on her belly, and green eyes that rivaled an emerald.

He nearly begged you to let him and Penelope come over after work that day. You can't say you didn't have your suspicions on why he was so adamant about both of them visiting that night, but you reluctantly agreed, nearly sobbing as you cleaned up the last of Hugo's things before they arrived.

Penelope drove, leaving Spencer to hold the kitten, the pink blanket he'd bought for her nearly swallowing the tiny thing.

The two made their way into your apartment, and as soon as you spotted the bundle in Spencer's arms, you knew.

That son of a bitch (affectionate)

Soft mews sounded from the blanket as her head popped up, her eyes landing directly on you.

Spencer nearly cried when he saw you crack a smile for the first time in a month.

You took the tiny kitten from his hands, nuzzling her against your chest.

"She's so little!" you squeaked, rubbing tiny circles on her back with the pad of your thumb.

He nodded. "She's the runt so she'll most likely always be on the smaller side," he told you.

"What do you wanna name her?"

His cheeks lit up. "Me?"

"Yeah. She's gonna be yours too. We'll co-parent. Better yet, we'll just move in together and share her all the time."

Spencer couldn't say he hadn't thought about it. He loved the idea of waking up next to you, the kitten curled up at the foot of the bed.

"Well, what were you thinking?" he asked, scratching at the nape of his neck.

"Hmmm, maybe something similar to Hugo? In honor of him?"

He racked his brain for ideas, but nothing seemed accurate. Harriette? Helena? Some other fancy name that starts with H?

But then, it clicked. All of his PhDs and years of training had finally paid off.

"Well, Hugo means intelligent. We could give her a name that means the same as his name."

The room stayed silent as the both of you thought, though you weren't too familiar with many names that had that meaning.

"Ooh, I got one!" Penelope squealed, a smile overtaking her lips. "Ramona! It means wise!"

"Do I wanna know-" Spencer started.

"Look, I have a lot of free time. I like to look up what our unsubs names mean to know how truly cursed they are."

You both giggled at her explanation before looking back down at the tiny bundle of raven-colored fur in your hands.

"Do you like that name? Ramona?" you cooed, scratching at her chin.

She purred, the first Spencer had heard since they'd picked her up from the breeder.

"I think that's a yes," he smiled.

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☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆

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Spencer made his way down the stairs nervously, somehow hoping to avoid his partner, or at least avoid her opinion of his impromptu Halloween costume change.

Unfortunately, she noticed immediately. After all, she’d been putting together her Bride of Frankenstein costume for weeks, what with perfecting her makeup and spending hours thrifting the perfect dress.

“Now, where is your costume?” she sassed, hands on her hips.

He pouted, his lips scrunched tight together. “This is my costume,” he answered, fidgeting with the ends of his scarf.

“Spence, we’ve been talking about going as Frankenstein and his Bride for months now,” she reminded him. “Why are you recycling your Doctor Who costume?”

“First of all, it’s a cosplay, not a costume,” he rebutted, his hands flying to his own hips.

She huffed lightly, “Sorry, my bad. Cosplay.”

“Second of all,” he continued, “this just feels more like me.”

One of her eyebrows cocked upward. She saw right through him. “You begged to be Frankenstein this year and now all of a sudden, you wanna go as the Sixth Doctor?”

“It’s the Fourth Doctor,” he whined, a frown pulling his lips downward.

“Look, I don’t care if you’re supposed to be the Millionth Doctor, you aren’t fooling me, Spencer Walter Reid. I’ve known you since we were cadets. I know when you’re lying.”

“Nuh-uh!” His tone sounded similar to a four-year-old who’d be accused of stealing candy.

His partner saw past all of this though. She noticed the way he tugged at his scarf, pulling it the teeniest bit tighter around his neck. She noticed the saddened, almost embarrassed look in his eyes, and suddenly understood his behavior.

“Spencer,” was all she had to say before he was coming undone. Every bottled up tear he’d been holding in throughout the day suddenly slid down his cheeks.

Spencer didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. He just sat down on the bottom stair and cried nearly silent into his palms. His body shook as sobs wrecked him, every ounce of insecurity attempting to shed its way out of his body through his tears.

She silently sat down beside him, her white dress cascading down the floor. “I know it’s hard to take me seriously when I have this giant ass wig on my head,” she started, managing to earn herself an amused sniffle from the man beside her, “but it would help me immensely if you’d tell me what’s going on in that big, smart, and evidently, sad brain of yours.”

He looked up, finally making eye contact with her again. “I don’t want anyone to see my new scar,” he answered, tears stilling on the edges of his bottom lids.

Her hand slid up to his hair, brushing through those signature cinnamon-brown curls of his. “Spencer, if there’s one thing I’ve learned throughout my many years as an insecure woman, it’s that no one is paying attention to any of your flaws, even the thing you think is your biggest imperfection.”

“But what if they say it’s ugly? Or what if they think it’s scary?”

Her arm wrapped around the back of his shoulders, pulling him close to her side. “Spencer, if anyone says anything, I’ll kick their ass. Because that—getting shot in the neck and living to tell the tale—is possibly the most badass thing you’ve done in your whole career. And trust me, babe, you’ve done some pretty badass things.”

He wiped away the remaining drops of water as his cries stilled, managing to choke out a chuckle as he settled into his lover’s embrace.

“But if I have to be honest, I doubt anyone will say anything. It’s just the BAU and their partners. The worst that could happen would be Rossi making some sort of offhand comment and, while I'm not trying to make excuses for Rossi’s demented sense of humor, you know he means well.”

Spencer looked to the floor, fidgeting with his hands. “Are you sure no one will say anything? He whispered, just barely loud enough for his lover to make out his words.

She tapped a finger against her chin, racking her brain for some way to help him through his insecurity. Suddenly, an idea popped into her brain, almost like a light switch being flipped. “Oh, my goodness. Why didn't I think of this sooner?”

He looked back up, eyes filled with curiosity. “What?” he asked, his voice rumbling with the remnants of his previous cries.

“What is one of Frankenstein’s monster’s most memorable features?” she inquired, arms crossed tight in front of her chest.

Spencer’s eyebrows ruffled together as he analyzed her question. “His green skin?”

She giggled, “Well, yes, but what about his neck?”

His eyes lit up as he figured out what she had reference to. “His bolts and stitches!”

She nodded with a small hum. “I could draw on some stitches with some makeup and cover up your scar, if that’s what you’d like.”

He nodded with a half-smile, his eyes crinkling near the corners. “I’d like that a lot.”

That was how Spencer ended up on the bathroom counter, swinging his legs back and forth as his girlfriend decorated his face and neck with green face paint and eyeliner.

“Are you sure no one’s gonna think it’s scary?” he fretted. “I mean, what if JJ brings Henry? You don’t think it’ll scare him off, do you?”

“Spencer,” she sighed, dabbing at the makeup on his neck, “I have never seen someone who adores you as much as Henry. I doubt you’ll have anything to worry about.”

Still, Spencer internally worried, his stomach bubbling with anxiety with every second that the party got closer.

His apprehension only became worse as he and his partner made their way up the stairwell to Penelope’s apartment. His girlfriend’s fingers interlocked tightly around Spencer’s as the two wandered their way into Penelope’s apartment, their ears immediately being overtaken by The Clovers’ Love Potion No. 9.

The stampers of tiny feet were barely heard over the music as an all-too-excited Henry made his way over to the couple. “Uncle Spencer!” he shouted with a smile, showing off every tooth in his mouth.

“Henry!” Spencer exclaimed, bending down to the five-year-old’s level. His lover subconsciously noticed his anxiety melting away as he interacted with the boy, a smile sitting lightly on her face.

The boy shook his head. “I’m not Henry tonight, Uncle Spencer. I’m a lion.”

Spencer nodded in understanding, holding in a small chuckle. “Oh, well in that case, you can call me Uncle Frankenstein tonight.”

Henry’s eyes wandered over Spencer, taking in every detail of the man’s costume. As he looked over Spencer’s face paint, his eyes twinkled like stars in the night sky. “Woah!” he nearly screamed, leaning in for a better look. “Those stitches on your neck are super cool, Uncle Frankenstein!”

Spencer looked over to his partner, who simply gave him an “I told you so” grin. She watched as the two interacted, chatting for a moment about their costumes.

After a moment of Henry being absolutely mesmerized by Spencer’s makeup, he stepped away. “I’m gonna find Mommy and Dad- I mean,” he corrected himself, “Mama Dorothy and Daddy Tin-Man. I’m hungry.”

Spencer stood up, chuckling deeply as the boy ran off toward his parents, who were happily chatting with Penelope, who was dressed as quite possibly the prettiest fairy anyone had ever seen.

Suddenly, a hand made its way to the curls near Spencer’s neck. He turned, looking over the smile that still sat on his lover’s lips.

“See? What did I tell you?” she giggled, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

He sighed, leaning into her embrace. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

Her eyebrows furrowed together. “For what?”

“For worrying all the time.”

She shook her head with a giggle. “You wouldn’t be Spencer without it.”

He huffed lightly, a half-smile making its way to his lips. “I suppose you’re right about that,” he said, leaning down for a quick kiss. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” she smiled, her hand still tangled in his curls, “all part of the job, Uncle Frankenstein.”

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So... this was supposed to be up Saturday?? Obviously that did not happen 💀

I feel like I owe you guys a little bit of an explanation for what happened during Whumptober.

So, I guess the easiest way to explain it would be health problems? I know that seems to be what I always say but I genuinely have had some of the worst fatigue, which led to brain fog, which lead to unproductivity, which led to me not finishing Whumptober on time.

However, as I stated on my Stranger Things blog (@honeysuckleharringtons) I will be posting the rest of the Whumptober fics in due time. I have a lot of plans for the month of November (what with nanowrimo starting and a ✨️secret surprise✨️ for you guys) so they may not all be posted this month. Some of them may end up getting posted in December.

Anyway, to make a long story short, I do apologize for getting behind again but I promise, you guys will be getting the rest of the Whumptober fics 🫶🏻

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Liked by lukealvez and 127 others

yn.yln he tried to jab my eye out with that stick 15 seconds after this was taken

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emprentiss not u giving us free foot pics

↳ yn.yln why u lookin at my man's feet 🤨

↳ reiditandweep @/emprentiss @/yn.yln why are we discussing my feet on the internet

missgreenaway why did u take a picture of two random sticks in a random river 😭

↳ yn.yln LMAO guess I'm just a stick person 😌

Liked by thesimmonsfam and 204 others

yn.yln they're gonna hate me when i tell them the store was out of dinosaur nuggets

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aaronhotch hold on, i think Jack might have some in the freezer 🚘🏃🏻‍♂️

↳ yn.yln do i even wanna know who taught you that

↳ bbygirlpg @/yn.yln *slowly raises hand*

jenjareau gosh, i miss my boy 😭

↳ yn.yln he misses you too!! he's coping by watching Spiderman with his fav uncle

↳ thedavidrossi @/yn.yln but i'm not there 🙄

morgan.derek a rare sighting of the spencestache

↳ reiditandweep i'm thinking about keeping it

↳ yn.yln @/reiditandweep alsgaksgkafaja really???

↳ reiditandweep @/yn.yln no

Liked by kcallahan and 216 others

yn.yln not sure converse is accurate attire for a ren faire but go off ig

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jenjareau didn't think today would be the day i saw Spence in a pirate hat but here we are

↳ yn.yln me either tbh

reiditandweep me thinks i look muttontastic

↳ lukealvez nawt the spongebob reference

Liked by thedavidrossi and 154 others

yn.yln ok but who sits in a chair like that

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emprentiss dying over hotch's legs in the bg

morgan.derek what's pretty boy thinking about? (wrong answers only)

↳ reiditandweep not this game again

↳ yn.yln that chicken tandoori he had two nights ago

↳ dralexblake the pythagorean theorem

↳ morgan.derek @/yn.yln @/dralexblake y'all suck at this game

yn.yln ok afterthought but i just noticed his hands and aldgaksfajfa

↳ missgreenaway gonna pretend i didn't see this

↳ yn.yln @/missgreenaway ur just mad u don't have a boyf with nice hands 🙄

Liked by aaronhotch and 96 others

yn.yln "drink the green fairy" they said. "it's delicious" they said.

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bbygirlpg WHAT ITS GOOD (also idk who made that green fairy frappe but it is NOT supposed to be that green)

↳ yn.yln now u tell us that 😃🔫

kcallahan the way they gave him a spoon too LOL

Liked by doclewis and 275 others

yn.yln "why do i have to smile? i'm using all my strength to stay awake right now" - S. Reid

view 38 comments

bbygirlpg omg say hi to @/emprentiss for me while you're across the pond!

morgan.derek have fun in Paris! but not too much fun 😉

↳ morgan.derek i realize now how wrong this sounds

↳ yn.yln LMFAO we are def not going to see the eiffel tower while we're here

↳ reiditandweep @/yn.yln i thought we were 😭

↳ yn.yln @/reiditandweep baby that's not... you know what nvm

Liked by jenjareau and 282 others

yn.yln caught on film in Florence

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thedavidrossi tell my kinfolk buongiorno for me!

↳ emprentiss this is the most white man thing u have ever said

reiditandweep honey, we've talked about how i feel about you posting pics of me in my pajamas

↳ yn.yln but do i look like i care 😐

aaronhotch nice view! too bad Reid is blocking it

Liked by thesimmonsfam and 103 others

yn.yln if you were to ask me how i thought Spencer was going to cope with going back to work, i would've never expected to tell you that it would be by doing... whatever that is

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lukealvez should i ask?

↳ yn.yln i was hoping you'd know 😭 ya know, himbo to himbo communication

↳ lukealvez @/yn.yln i am not a himbo 🙄✋🏼

↳ bbygirlpg @/lukealvez yeah newbie u kinda are

missgreenaway why is he 80% just legs

↳ yn.yln just the way i like it 😌

↳ reiditandweep i'll have you know i'm only 17% leg which is just above the average leg percentage for the average man

Liked by doclewis and 85 others

yn.yln alexa, play hungover by mothica

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reiditandweep i didn't have THAT much to drink

↳ yn.yln babe, you asked @/dralexblake how many patients she sees on average in a week

↳ reiditandweep @/yn.yln ... it's a legitimate question

↳ yn.yln @/reiditandweep not when she's not a medical doctor 😭

jenjareau i'll have what he had

kcallahan i have so many questions. why is wearing sunglasses in the office? why is his watch on backwards? whose ring is that? just how much did he drink? what did he drink? so many questions 😂

↳ yn.yln (1) to block the sun because he did, indeed, have a hangover. (2) he's weird like that. (3) very good question. (4) i lost count after six shots. (5) ✨️pink whitney✨️

↳ reiditandweep @/yn.yln i did NOT have six shots

↳ yn.yln @/reiditandweep how would you know? you were drunk 😒

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Hi, lovely ppl! ik it's v late but i wanted to come on and give you guys a lil fun post to make up for lack of an imagine this week!

as always, i must give credit where credit is due. this was very much inspired by this post by @hotchaways (i'm obsessed with this series btw)

anyway, hope you guys enjoyed! lmk if you want any more of these bc this was super fun to make! even if it did take over 2 hours 🥴

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