Losing Control [ spencer reid x reader ] ✔

24. Family

You yawn, stretching your arms above your head at your desk. The paperwork in front of you shifts as the air hits it, hitting the base of your computer.

"Are you sleepy or something?" Prentiss asks, eyes shifting to you.

"Eh, not really. I think I'm bored," you say, readjusting the paper on your desk.

"I think we're all itching for a case," she mutters.

Standing, you go to the coffee pot, pouring yourself a generous glass. You stir in your sugar, almost jumping out of your skin when Spencer touches your arm.

"Fuck," you whisper, turning to look at him. "A heads up would be nice, Spence."

He smiles lazily, tilting his head. "Sorry." Leaning in, he kisses your cheek softly.

"We're set for Dave's pasta night tonight, right?" You ask him, tapping your left hand against your thigh.

He grabs it, running his thumb over the top of your hand. "Yes. You're ready to tell them?"

You nod. "I think a little team party at Dave's mansion plus his pasta makes for a pretty solid night to tell them we're engaged."

It had been a week since you'd said yes to Spencer's proposal, and it had been a week of pure bliss. Hiding the engagement isn't easy—Spencer was ready to blurt it out the minute the two of you walked into the bullpen the next day. You wanted to wait for the right moment, though, and Spencer obliged—anything to make you happy. Rossi's throwing a little get together tonight, and it seems like the perfect time to spill the beans to the team.

The past week had been filled with unpacking the few boxes you have in his apartment. Moving in with Spencer doesn't feel weird—you'd basically been living with him already, just without all your stuff there. You had already ordered another bookshelf; between your books and Spencer's, his shelves are beginning to overflow. It feels nice—having space in a dresser, a closet, to have your little things occupy his space. Well, it's not his space anymore. It's both of yours. And Spencer is over the moon about it.

You give him a small kiss before going to sit back down, Morgan grumbling to you about PDA as you walk by.

"Give it up, old man," you say to him, plopping down in your seat. "You're just salty because you're not getting any."

"Hey!" He says defensively, a laugh coming from Prentiss.

"Children, behave," JJ warns, not bothering to look up from her desk.

You giggle and go back to your paperwork, joking around with the team throughout the day. Garcia's been on a video game kick—playing Witcher 3 on her Switch every second she isn't working.

"No, see, sugar, a Witcher is just someone who's magically altered to be this like...monster hunting machine," Garcia explains, leaning against your desk. "You have these magic Witcher signs to help you during combat, plus potions and stuff you can brew. Also, the graphics are to die for."