so this is a song fic for a writing challenge on tumblr, based on the song little bird by ed sheeran. never before in my life have I ever written 2,700 words in one sitting, but there's a first time for everything. this is my baby please be nice to it. and instead of putting the lyrics in italics throughout the story I wove them into actual events. I hope you guys like it ahh 

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For all that he reads, Spencer really didn't think that writing would be so much of a problem for him. Especially for what he's trying to write - his vows to you. But here he is, sitting at his desk with an absolutely blank mind and blank paper.

When he proposed to you a couple months back, he'd already known that you'd want to write your own vows. Easy for you to say, he thought. You're actually a writer. He wonders if you're also using work hours to attempt to come up with something to say at the altar. He knows he shouldn't be, and technically Hotch could get him in trouble for this, but he has no other choice, really. His two states of being are working and spending time with you, and he couldn't exactly ask you to leave him alone to stare at a blank page for hours and hours. That would make it too obvious that he has no idea what to say.

It confuses Spencer, really. He has more love for you than he ever imagined his heart could hold. So why is it so hard for him to write a couple damn verses about it?

"What's eating you, Spence?" JJ asks, startling Spencer. He looks up to see her standing by her desk, and he wonders how long she's been there unnoticed. She tilts her head in concern, seeing right through him. He sighs, dropping his pen and leaning back.

"Wedding vows," is all Spencer says, understanding instantly crossing his friend's face. She smiles sadly, walking over to lean on his desk. She peers over her shoulder and winces when she sees the blank page.

"Nothing, huh?" She asks with a grimace. He nods woefully, and she pats his shoulder.

"I don't understand it. I feel so much love, but I can't seem to find the words," he explains, clearly disappointed in himself. JJ shakes her head, wishing she could help.

"Don't beat yourself up, Spence. Love is hard to put into words. Will and I aren't exactly poets, and I'm sure you remember our vow-less ceremony. I don't know, maybe try... think of your happy memories with her, how about that?" JJ tries. Spencer nods again, and JJ can almost physically see him retreat into his mind. She smiles, patting his shoulder one more time before returning to her desk.

Meanwhile, Spencer flips through his countless memories with you. After bouncing back and forth with no destination, he decides he ought to start from the beginning of his love.

"Come inside, please," Spencer asks you, tugging on the hand intertwined with his to pull you towards his apartment building. You resist, giving him a look he can only describe as bittersweet.

"I can't, Spencer. And besides, I'm tired. I won't be good company," you insist, trying to pull away. Spencer's steel grip keeps you from getting too far, and he studies your face carefully with sadness in his eyes.

"With everything that's been going on recently, you're entitled to a nap. Besides, if you fall asleep... it wouldn't be the worst thing," he says sheepishly. You smile at him, and it's then that he knows he's in love with you. Your smile alone brings warmth to his chest. As sunshine streams onto your face, he crumbles under the weight of how much he wants to tell you he loves you. But he just recently convinced you to go on a couple dates with him, and you haven't even agreed to labels. Despite being friends for years and having mutual feelings, you had consistently said that it would only lead to regret. He might've taken it as an insult if he didn't know better, but even without profiling skills he could tell that you were afraid of commitment.

"Fine, Spencer. I'll come inside," you finally give in. He leads you into his building and up the stairs in silence, terrified that if he tries to say anything he'll blurt out his feelings instead.

Upon entering his apartment, you take the lead instead. You brush past him and curl up on his couch, sitting in a little ball. He gently places himself at your side, wrapping one arm around you. His heart flutters as you snuggle into him, and neither of you say a word. The silence settles comfortably over the two of you, and soon enough Spencer can tell through your breathing that you're asleep. If you had only been awake, you would've seen the love in his droopy eyes before he fell into the same sleep that had enveloped you.

When he wakes up, sunlight no longer peeks through his curtains. His arm is still trapped between your body and the couch, and even though his fingers feel numb he knows he won't dare move. Your eyes stare back at him, and in the dark he can just barely make out that they're full and watery with tears.

"Why are you crying? Don't cry," he whispers, not even thinking before the words leave his mouth. You shake your head a little, sniffling.

"Saying don't cry doesn't actually make it any easier to hold my tears back, Spencer," you tell him, letting your head fall on your shoulder. He breaks his own rule and moves his arm, his hand somehow finding the strength to rub your arm in what he hopes is a soothing manner. Seeing as he can barely feel his fingers, he can't really tell.

"I know. I just- I don't like seeing you sad. I- I don't like seeing the one I love feel-" he doesn't finish. He doesn't have to. You sigh heavily, and if Spencer were more than half-conscious, he'd be freaking out. But in his sleepy state, he doesn't even realize what he's just confessed.

"It's late, love. Get back to sleep," you say, running a hand through his hair to lull him away. The hand previously on your arm falls limp and he's out like a light.

The next time he wakes up, the sun has made a reappearance. You're no longer tucked under his arm, and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Scanning his surroundings, he can see mascara stains on his shoulder along with the tint of color from your other makeup. It makes his heart ache, but as the events of last night come back to him, his heartbeat revs up like never before. Panic in his chest, he forces himself to stand up. Walking in a daze around his apartment, a note on the door catches his eye.

"Be my boyfriend?" is all it reads, written in your scrawling handwriting. He smiles, feeling like it's his turn to cry. It's not an I love you, but for someone so terrified of love, it may as well be. 

"Okay Spence, I have no idea where you just went, but it looked like good writing material," JJ says, laughing. Spencer looks up in surprise again, returning to reality and watching JJ pack her things up. 

"I'm headed home to the boys. If whatever you just remembered doesn't help, maybe call Morgan. I seem to remember sickening sweet vows being read to Savannah," JJ suggests, making Spencer chuckle. He nods and thanks her, still in a bit of a trance. He picks up his phone to call Morgan, but before he can dial, his mind involuntarily takes him back into another memory.

"This cake is so good, oh my god," you murmur, and it's a wonder Spencer understands anything you said through your full mouth. He laughs, feeling happier than he has in a long time. He's at his best friend's wedding with the girl he wants to marry right beside him. He's supposed to be up at the front table, sitting in his Best Man's chair next to Morgan, but when he saw you gorging on so much cake that you gave up on even sitting down in between helpings, he couldn't help himself. You make a grab for some strawberries, because ever the health nut, Morgan put a bowl of fruit on the dessert table. Spencer scrunches up his nose, confused by your choice. He's never seen you eat strawberries for as long as he's known you, but here you are scarfing them down like your life depends on it.

"Strawberries?" he questions, and you nod, barely taking your focus off of the food.

"Yeah. They taste like your lips," you explain absentmindedly. Spencer has no idea how to react. First he's flustered at the mention of the taste of his lips, then confused why on earth strawberries would be that taste, then taken aback by your wording. 

"Don't- don't you mean my lips taste like strawberries? I don't think it works the other way around," he says, half joking but half serious. You shake your head defiantly, still not even sparing him a glance as you scoop up more of the fruit. 

"No, it's definitely them copying you. I know what I said. They taste like you," you answer. Spencer's mind is reeling, so, as usual, he goes to his defense mechanism.

"Did you know that the average strawberry has two hundred seeds and they're the only fruit to bear their seeds on the outside? And despite their name, they aren't technically berries," he rambles. You laugh, finally turning to face him and shaking your head.

"Is there anything you don't know?" you tease him. His mouth opens, but no words come out. The only answer he has to your question is that he doesn't know whether or not you'll ever tell him you love him. He wants to slap the sad thought out of his mind instantly. Not having a clue what's going on in his head, your smile brightens, and you put a dash of icing on his bottom lip with a swipe of your finger.

"Oops, looks like you've got something on your lip, Spencer. Let me help you with that." You lean in to kiss him, and he can't stop the smile that creeps up on his face as he reciprocates the action. Maybe you haven't said the words yet, but he can practically read the love on your lips.

At this point, Spencer is grinning like a mad man. He's lucky Hotch's blinds are closed, because if anyone saw Spencer it wouldn't be hard to tell that he is in no way doing paperwork. Sitting back in his chair, he lets his memories carry him away again. 

You're walking ahead of Spencer, practically skipping as grass brushes up against your bare feet. He had warned you of the dangers of not wearing shoes outside, but you had refused, insisting you wanted to be covered in nature no matter the cost. You couldn't convince him to ditch his own shoes, though, something he almost regrets as he watches the joy crossing your face as you weave around the trees in the wooded area of the park. The sun is just now rising, and because the park is empty Spencer could swear that the sun shines only for the two of you.

"Come on, Spencer, let's lie down," you call to him, practically falling onto your back under an oak tree. He smiles to himself, catching up and clambering to lie beside you. You steal his arm to use as a pillow, curling into his side and letting him hold you. You two find a quiet peace like that, just watching the sun come over the horizon and occasionally looking at each other. After a while, you catch his attention by nudging his shoulder. Once you have eye contact, you take a deep breath.

"I love you too, Spencer."

He scans your face for a moment, not saying anything. Your head is telling you that his silence should be making you nervous, but your heart has no worries. His eyes bore into yours for another moment before he finally speaks.

"I know," he says. And then his strawberry lips capture yours in a kiss.

You've since told Spencer countless times how much you cherished that moment, and thinking of those conversations makes him almost as happy as he feels thinking of the memory itself. You tell him how you've never felt safer than you did in that moment. You tell him you've never felt more loved.

And on that note, Spencer's pen is off, his hands moving at record speed. The words pour out onto the page in the same manner that love pours out of his heart for you.

----

"Spencer and Y/N have written their own vows. Spencer?" the officiant prompts, and you smile at Spencer reassuringly. Your wedding is relatively small, mostly just your closest loved ones, but you can still tell he's nervous. He clears his throat, taking a deep breath and a glance at his shoes.

"I love you, Y/N. And as I was pondering what to write, I had trouble finding the words to express that. So I thought back on our story. I thought about the time I first told you I loved you on my couch in the middle of the night. I thought about how you cried that night and how you finally gave me the privilege of calling you my girlfriend after that. I thought about the time you insisted that strawberries taste how my lips do. I thought about the time you first told me you loved me under an oak tree as the sun rose. I thought about how you looked sliding the ring on your finger after I proposed and how you gave me the honor of calling you my fiance. I thought about how you might smile today, the day I get the pleasure of calling you my wife. And I realized that it was impossible for me to write vows that might properly tell you just how much I love you. I realized that trying to tell our love story was futile. It's impossible to write our love story right now because it's not complete yet. My heart is overflowing with love, Y/N, and it will never run out," Spencer finishes, and you're both crying by now. You grip tightly onto his hands, needing to wipe away your tears of joy but not wanting to let go of him. You smile, shaking your head and mouthing the words I love you. He nods and sniffles a little, not taking his eyes off of how beautiful you look in this moment.

"And Y/N?" the officiant says, turning to you. You glance at him, incredulous, then look out to your guests helplessly.

"How the hell am I supposed to top that?" you ask, laughing in disbelief. Your guests all share a laugh, and you're fairly certain you see Garcia wiping tears of her own as she giggles. Spencer himself chuckles sheepishly, squeezing your hands.

"Spencer, I... God, I had this whole thing memorized. Damn you," you say, blanking on what you're supposed to do. Everyone laughs again, but Spencer's laugh is the loudest and it makes your heart swell.

"Oh, you bastard, I love you more than words. Even if I could remember what I wrote, it doesn't matter. What matters is you and me and spending the rest of our lives together and- and sitting in rocking chairs and still loving each other even though we're wrinkly and having a love story that is never, ever, ever over," you ramble, blinking back more tears. 

"Can you please just tell him to kiss the bride already?" you beg the officiant with a cracking voice, and Spencer nearly bursts with love and happiness and laughter. The officiant has mercy on you, nodding and giving the go ahead.

You grip the sides of Spencer's face tightly, kissing his strawberry lips with an untouchable passion. But somehow, his enthusiasm matches yours, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him. The kiss is full of love, and the entire horde of guests all cheer and clap. You stay attached for perhaps just a tad too long, cheers of happiness turning into jesting whoops.

Finally pulling apart, tears streaking both of your smiling faces, neither of you have a doubt in the world that this is simply the beginning of your perpetually incomplete love story.