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weird-is-life · 3 days

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Shouldn't I want you?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: Spencer lets you break up with him, thinking he is not enough for you

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: angst, happy ending, arguments, mentions of ice-cream, lots of tears, swear words, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of Spencer being in prison

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Spencer has been acting weird lately. And you don't know why. He's been so distant. Making different excuses on why he couldn't make it to the dates.

He's also started texting you less and less. And the calls just seem forced from your side, like he doesn't even want to speak with you while away on cases.

It's honestly breaking your heart, and maybe that's Spencer's plan. To just break your heart so you would break up with him.

It's making you so anxious that you wait everyday for the text from him that will say 'It's over. I'm breaking up with you.' But it doesn't come, and you don't know what to think of it. You don't even know why would he want to break up. You don't think that you've done anything wrong, and you are very certain that Spencer hasn't done anything wrong either. This whole thing is just so unusual.

On the one hand, Spencer is almost ghosting you, but on the other hand he doesn't want to break up? You are so confused about the whole situation.

You are crying over the break-up that hasn't even happened yet, watching your tv with a big bowl of ice cream in your lap. Spencer's supposed to come home today from a case, but you know he's not going to come to your apartment. He hasn't done that in the last few weeks, not since he's started being so distant.

So you sit in a pit of your tears, cheesy rom-coms and a bucket of ice cream. Suddenly, there's a knock on your door, and looking at the clock you know exactly who it is.

You panic, you didn't expect him to come. You quickly wipe your tears away, and hide the ice cream in the freezer. You know that you look puffy anyways as you open the door with a big sigh and a fake smile.

Spencer, of course, sees right through it.

"Hi- what's wrong?" Spencer immediately asks with a frown. He pushes you gently out of the doorway, and steps inside too as he closes the door.

"N-nothing," you lie, trying to force a smile on your face, "what...what are you doing here?"

A quick flash of hurt and confusion passes over Spencer's face, "I wanted to see you."

You suck in a shaky breath,"oh."

"Oh?" Spencer asks, baffled. "Seriously sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Don't-Don't call me that," you whisper, eyes on the ground.

"What?" Spencer's eyes go wide, "I shouldn't call you sweetheart?"

You sigh, and look up at Spencer. He looks so lost by what you mean, and for a split of a second you think good, let him be confused. You've been confused for the last few weeks because of him. But then you remember that it's Spencer, still very much the Spencer you love.

"Yes, you shouldn't," you sniffle a little, "because it's only hurting me more."

"I-" Spencer starts.

"Spencer, just let me finish. I think that we both know that you don't want to be in a relationship with me anymore. So please Spencer, let's just not do this anymore. I can't keep going on like this, it's-it's just too much. It hurts too much," you say, your cheeks wet with tears yet again.

Spencer stays quiet, it's actually one of the rare times that he doesn't know what to say, and it just breaks your heart even more.

"Y-you won't even say anything? No reason why?" your voice breaks in the middle of the sentence. But looking at Spencer's teary eyes and completely shut mouth, you know, you two are done.

"I-It's over, Spencer. Please just go, you can come take your things some other day," you don't even wait for him to say anything. You go open the door and look anywhere, but him while he slowly leaves.

You don't have the courage to look at him. You hear him sniffle, but don't look. You can't see his broken face, it would be even worse than it already is.

Spencer leaves, and you slam the door shut behind him. It feels like your heart is being cut open by millions of tiny glass pieces as soon as the door closes.

You barely manage to walk towards the couch before you break down. Sobs violently shaking with your body.

A few days go by, and it's only when you don't pick up your phone on like the 20th try does Penelope march into your apartment.

You reluctantly open the door after she knocks, and knocks, insisting she's not leaving until you open the door.

"Hi," you greet her, and you immediately notice her slightly shocked face at the sight of you. And you get it. You haven't slept properly for the last few days, and the almost constant tears can't help either.

"Oh my gosh, honey, come here," Penelope instantly pulls you into an embrace, and you melt into it like a puddle.

She squeezes you tightly until you're ready to let go. "Pen, what...what are you doing here? Did Spencer send you?"

"Don't even say his name. He's in big, big trouble," she says in her own angry way. A small smile appears on your face when she says it.

"I can't believe he's done this. He can be such an idiot sometimes even if he really is a genius," you don't argue with that, but you don't want to talk about Spencer either. He's been on your mind enough as it is right now.

"Can we...can we not talk about it? I just want to get over it, and move on as soon as possible, "you sigh. You let Penelope in, and you want to make her go sit down to the living room while you make the tea, but she insists on staying in the kitchen with you.

"Believe me, honey, I wouldn't want to talk about Spencer if it wasn't important," she starts, and your mind immediately goes to the worst possible scenario.

Seeing your wide, worried eyes she adds, "he's okay. He's just stupid, that's all."

"Yeah," you agree quietly, even if you know that it's not true. Spencer maybe used to be clueless about things like relationships, but that has changed. He was never clueless in your relationship.

"Oh sweetheart, " Penelope rubs your shoulder in comfort, "I could beat him up for making you so sad."

Her very serious tone makes you let out a small chuckle. You and her both know that she wouldn't even hurt a fly let alone Spencer, her dear friend.

"Thanks, Penny, but it's okay, I'm okay. Spencer didn't want to be with me anymore, and i-i made my peace with that or-or at least i will eventually."

"But that's just it. That's what I came here to tell you. Spencer loves you, and he just let dumb people with dumb opinions get to his head," you almost burn yourself with the warm water for the tea when you hear her words.

"What do you mean?" you quizz. You forget about the tea, and turn to her.

"He'd heard some people talk about you and him. Some colleagues saw you two together somewhere, and started gossiping. He heard them say that you're too good for him with him being in prison and all-"

"What? That's just ridiculous," you exclaim, you've never heard such a bullshit before.

Of course, you know that Spencer was in prison, but you also know he was innocent. You knew Spencer even before he went to prison, and maybe he did change a bit, but he was still the same Spencer. The Spencer you've always been in love with.

"Exactly, I told him the same, but he wouldn't listen, " she looks sympathetically at you, "I think that Spencer just loves you so much that he's willing to let you go for better or worse."

You are stunned. You stand there absolutely baffled, and Penelope just looks at you with understanding. It takes you good few minutes to finally say something.

"You knew about this?" you question as you head towards the door with Penelope on your heels.

"No, I found out yesterday otherwise I would have told you sooner," you quickly put on your shoes as you listen to her.

"I know you would. Thank you for telling me this, Pen. You're the best," you give her a tight hug.

"He's at home right now," she tells you, you appreciatively smile at her, and basically run to your car with Spencer on your mind.

When Spencer opens his door, you instantly push yourself inside. You don't give him even a second to react, protest or say anything.

"Spencer Reid!" you start angrily. "I can't fucking believe you. You let us break up over some stupid gossip? And you didn't even tell me?" You say, hurt.

"It's not stupid, it's true-" Spencer starts calmly, a complete contrast to you. But on the inside he feels like he's going to pass out. It was already hard for him without seeing you, but now it feels like hundred times worse.

"Like hell it is!" you argue. "Spencer of course you're enough for me. I don't care what anyone says. It's not even true anyways. I don't care that you've been in prison, i don't care about any of it."

"But it is true. I'm no good for you. You can do so much better, sweetheart. Like look at me," he gestures towards himself, " I'm such a mess, my life is always messy. You don't deserve this kind of life, you deserve so so much better. You don't deserve to be waiting late at night for me to come home, wondering if i even come home. I can't let you have that kind of life. I'm not worth it."

Finally, Spencer lets the tears go down his cheeks freely. He knows what he is giving up by breaking up with you. He'd planned his whole life with you by his side. But it's better this way. Well that's at least what he is telling himself anyway.

"Don't you get it, Spencer?" you laugh dryly from the frustration, "I don't want better. I don't want anyone else. I just want you. I want you, Spence."

You sniffle slightly, and look at Spencer with hopeless eyes begging him to understand.

"You shouldn't, sweetheart, you shouldn't want me," Spencer tells you helplessly, running his hands through his hair.

You take a brave step towards him.

"Why shouldn't I?" you start. "Shouldn't I want the sweetest, the kindest person I know in my life? Shouldn't I want to be with the person that makes me smile, and makes my heart go fast? Shouldn't I want to be with somebody I completely trust? Shouldn't I want my best friend in my life forever? Shouldn't I want somebody who I feel safe with? Shouldn't I be with somebody I love the most?"

"So Spencer you tell me? Shouldn't i? Shouldn't i want you?" your cheeks are wet from the flowing tears, too.

Spencer shakes his head. You're impossible. How could he ever think that you'd just get over him without questioning why. He should have known better than that.

Spencer takes the final step that's between you two, and softly wipes away the tears from your puffy cheeks.

"I just want what's best for you," he whispers with a broken voice. Looking right into your watery eyes.

"Then let me have you!" You point at his chest with a sniffle. You see Spencer's face soften, like he finally understands.

Spencer's hands move from your cheeks to your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. "A-are you sure?"

"Spencer, you're unbelievable, " you say, vexed, "there's no one else for me Spence. No one."

Your words are the final thing for Spencer to breakdown, to allow himself to be with you. He pulls you towards him, hugging you oh so tightly. He hides his face into the space between your neck and shoulder. You feel the wetness of his tears run down your skin.

"There's no one else for me, too," he whispers into your shoulder. You hum in agreement, not ready to say anything yet.

After a few minutes you pull away, caressing Spencer's cheek you smile at him. "I love you," you mumble, "Please don't ever let people get to your head like this. At least not without telling me, yeah?"

"Yeah," Spencer says in hushed voice, leaning into your gentle touch. "I love you, thank you for not letting me be an idiot."

You both chuckle, sniffling, and it finally feels like it's all going to be okay. Like your worlds won't be ending after all.

You and Spencer go snuggle on his couch, content to be near each other again after the few days apart, and even if you know that there's still a conversation to be held tomorrow, you feel happy.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid

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incognit0slut · 10 months

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Right Kind of Wrong (9)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: A shocking call has Spencer questioning her involvement in the case. wc: 3.7k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

MASTERLIST

SPENCER COULDN'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME HE FELT AT PEACE. Although protecting people and making them safe gave him a certain comfort, the pressure of being involved in harrowing cases took a toll on him more than he expected. But amid the ongoing investigation, he felt rather...calm.

He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly the reason why, between his responsibilities and obligations, he found himself embraced by this unexpected peace. It certainly had to do with the woman still nestled in his bed as he now stood in his kitchen, contemplating whether she preferred drinking coffee or perhaps something sweeter to start her day.

He couldn't believe it. He never imagined himself debating on another person's choice of beverage. Yet here he was, making a new pot of fresh coffee and setting out another mug to prepare a nice, warm cup of hot chocolate because its rich sweetness reminded him of her. If he didn't know which one she preferred between the two, he was going to make both.

He let out a sigh. He was a fool, wasn't he? Spencer was never one to indulge himself in romance. It wasn't easy for him to get swept away by any potential relationships. Falling in love again seemed like an illusion for him, something so far out of his reach. It seemed impossible to find someone he genuinely liked after losing the only person he ever considered spending the rest of his life with.

But look at him now, falling for somebody he met less than two weeks ago. For a smart person with an IQ of 187, he certainly was a fool.

Although having to know her for a mere fraction of time, Spencer had never fathomed that he could harbor such feelings. Having her soft body pressed against his side let him understand how much her presence stirred his heart.

And it wasn't just the physical aspect. The night wasn't simply spent with the warm feeling of her bare skin, but it was also filled with her laughter. Their late-night conversations delved into the realms of dreams and vulnerabilities, effortlessly bridging the gap between two strangers. With each passing conversation, he discovered the captivating intricacies of her mind which he wanted to understand better.

He liked her. He really did.

Maybe after all this ordeal, after he could disclose this current case, he could ask her out on a proper date. When there was no more boundary between them, when he wasn't an authority and she wasn't someone linked to a case, he would finally enjoy her company without feeling guilty.

He was pouring the fresh pot of coffee into a mug when his phone suddenly rang. He let out a groan, knowing what was waiting for him as he noticed Garcia's name plastered on the screen.

"Hey, Garcia," he greeted, slipping his phone between his face and his shoulder. "New update?"

"Reid."

He froze, noticing the strain in her voice. He quickly stopped what he was doing and straightened himself, pressing his phone against his ear. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sitting down?"

"Uh—no." He frowned at her question. "Why?"

"You might want to sit down."

He didn't, of course. But his mind was already buzzing with curiosity. "What is it?"

"Reid," she whispered, her voice dropping low as if trying to keep quiet. "You're the first person I called which means nobody else knows about this...yet."

"Garcia," he probed, suddenly feeling anxious. "What is it?"

There was a shuffling at the end of the line before her voice filled his ear again.

"Okay, so I crossed references that could help me find any articles Jamison Lynch wrote that might involve Kevin Marshall, and it turns out, there are none. Nothing. Nada." There was an unsettling pause before she continued, "Although there is one article mentioning Mr. Marshall by a journalist, who as of now, is an active employee at the publishing firm Jamison worked at. Guess who it is?"

He clutched the phone tighter as a tumultuous mix of emotions churned in his gut. In that moment, time seemed to stretch, waiting for his response. He paused, his mind spiraling into a web of confusion and disbelief as he pieced together the verity of this call.

"I'm guessing by your silence you already know why I wanted to call you first."

He did. He knew why it was important for Garcia to be informing him before anyone else. His eyes then glanced towards his bedroom door. Gone was the peaceful bliss he had felt, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease. Confusion suddenly swirled within him, clouding his thoughts and casting shadows upon the woman who still lay peacefully on the other side of the wall.

The warmth he relished this morning was now replaced by a chill of uncertainty that seeped into his veins.

"What—" He suddenly cleared his throat, hating how his voice sounded so foreign to him. He took a deep breath. "What else did you find?"

"I did more sleuthing and found Y/n's name as one of the people who filed a complaint against Jamison—which meant nothing, really, since he was known as a complete douchebag." Garcia then stopped. "May he rest in peace."

"Is there anything else?"

"Well, as it turns out, Jamison Lynch wasn't the first person Y/n filed a complaint for. There was also a complaint against Mr. Marshall."

"I thought Kevin Marshall was clean?"

"He was until I hacked into his company's database system and found this single complaint sent by her, which by the looks of it, seemed to be buried under a lot of firewalls." The clicking sound of a keyboard played in the background. "It was as if the company he worked for, or even Mr. Marshall himself, tried to hide it."

His burrows furrowed. "What was the complaint for?"

"Sexual Harassment."

His heart pounded in his chest, a fiery rage suddenly coursing through his body. The revelation he had just uncovered struck him like a thunderbolt, leaving him torn between seething anger and a torrent of conflicting emotions. The person he came to like had once suffered the unimaginable—a vile act of assault perpetrated by the man who now lay lifeless, a victim of murder.

Yet beneath the simmering rage, doubt festered like a poisonous seed. He was suddenly questioning the nature of her involvement. Not only did she know one of the victims, but she was also acquainted with both of them. His thoughts churned, torn between the desire to dismiss this uncertainty and the nagging voice of suspicion that echoed in the depths of his mind.

"Reid," Garcia called out when she was met with silence. "I don't what this means. I don't understand how or why she's linked between these two victims but please, please, don't do anything stupid."

His eyes drew back to his bedroom. Even when he was stuck between the depths of his emotions, the rational part of his brain managed to turn its gear. "Garcia, I need you to find out whether she knew the third victim."

"You mean the suicidal case that doesn't seem like suicide?"

"Harvey Webb," he confirmed, the name printed in his brain.

"Alright, I will. Oh—and Reid?" He hummed a reply. "Don't act on impulse. Please don't go concluding stuff on your own when you're obviously involved with her."

"I..." He took a deep breath. "I'm not involved with her."

"You're telling me you asked for her address and you didn't do anything about it?" When he didn't respond, she clicked her tongue. "Exactly. Now listen, I need to go and tell the others this, so come by the office and we'll deal with it together, okay?"

He glanced towards the cup of coffee now sitting cold by the counter. "Thanks, Garcia."

"You're welcome, boy genius."

As the phone call ended, Spencer found himself adrift in a sea of swirling emotions. This information was a step further into the investigation now that he found a link between the victims. But as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, a cloud of doubt descended upon his thoughts.

The deeper he delved into the complexities of the situation, the more elusive the truth became. Was it really possible she had anything to do with the murder? Could the trauma she had endured have pushed her to take matters into her own hands?

The questions lingered like a toxic fog, polluting his mind.

"Good morning."

Spencer looked up to see Y/n padding across the room wearing nothing but his shirt. The way the material draped over her form accentuated her curves, holding an allure that was impossible to ignore. His eyes traced the lines of her body, from the tousled strands of her hair to the subtle curve of her hip. It was an intimate sight that would have once mesmerized him completely.

But his mind was too clouded with his doubt.

"I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt—" She stopped when her eyes fell on him. "What's wrong? Is it the shirt?" She looked down at herself. "Should I change out of it?"

As quickly as the enchantment had taken hold, the weight of his doubts resurfaced. At that moment, the air crackled with unspoken words, an invisible barrier separating them. Spencer's heart ached with the weight of uncertainty.

How could the woman he had fallen for potentially be connected to a heinous crime? It seemed inconceivable, yet the voice at the back of his head urged him to question his doubt.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew Kevin Marshall?"

The unexpected question startled her, her feet instinctively taking a step back. "What?"

"When I questioned you that day, why didn't you mention that you knew him?"

She studied him, wondering where this was suddenly coming from. "I didn't think it was important," she finally responded. "And technically, I didn't know him personally. I interviewed him once for work."

"What happened that day?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you interviewed him, what happened?"

She felt his gaze upon her, intense and penetrating, and a shiver ran down her spine. It was as though he had glimpsed into the depths of her soul, unraveling something not many people were aware of.

"You know." It was more of a statement rather than a question. She took another step back. "Nobody else knows except a few of my closest friends but—" She shook her head. "That doesn't matter. What matters is how you know. I don't even think that company kept the files, they practically ignored my complaint."

"They kept it," he mused.

"And how do you know this?"

"The technical analyst in our team managed to find your files hidden."

"Technical analyst—why were you even searching for it?" She crossed her arms across her chest, focusing her attention on him. "Answer me. Why was your technical analyst searching for my complaint?"

Her heart was pounding against her chest as she waited for his answer.

"Because you're currently the only person linked between the two cases we're working on."

She frowned. "You mean the cases you think are done by the same killer? The death between my late boss and Kevin Marshall?"

"Yes. But this is only procedure, we do an investigation on any leads that we find."

"Investigation?" Then it dawned on her. It fucking dawned on her. Offense suddenly surged through her while his words, accusing and laced with suspicion, struck her with a sense of betrayal. "You think I have to do something with the murders."

The atmosphere, once a sanctuary of shared affection, now felt suffocating, closing in around her as the weight of his accusations settled heavily on her shoulders. His silence spoke louder than words.

"Unbelievable." Her eyes blazed with anger, her voice sharp and defensive. She turned away and stalked back to his room. "Unbelievable."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving," she hissed, noticing him trailing behind her. "Did you expect me to stay here and let you interrogate me like I'm some kind of criminal?"

His face twisted in frustration. "I just want to know what happened the day you interviewed Kevin Marshall."

"Why? So you can accuse me even further?”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“You’re questioning me. You want to know whether I have some kind of vendetta against him."

"I'm not trying to accuse you of anything."

"But you are." Without any warning, she gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over her head. "You're practically cornering me with all the questioning, especially with that look on your face."

He quickly looked away and she stopped herself from scoffing at the absurdity of it. She was about to divulge how his sudden modesty was unnecessary when he spoke, "I wouldn't have to constantly ask you if you had answered me sooner."

This time she did scoff, grabbing onto her own pair of clothes. "You caught me off guard. What was I supposed to do?"

"Answer the question and not avoid it like what you're doing now."

"You think I'm avoiding the question on purpose?"

He drew his eyes back to her. "A study shows that body language plays a crucial role in interpersonal communication, and based on its verbal indicator, an attempt to avoid answering the question is notable by your vague response."

"And you're analyzing me based on that?"

"It's my job to analyze anyone involved in the case.”

"Anyone involved?" She screeched, dumbfounded by his judgment of her. "I trusted you last night, I opened up to you, and now you're throwing these baseless accusations at me?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm trying to make some sense of where you're connected in all of this."

"You don't even know how I'm involved!"

"That's what I'm trying to find out!"

The air crackled with tension, heavy with the echoes of their heated words. The silence that followed was almost deafening, a palpable strain that hung in the air like a fragile thread. The once intimate space now felt hollow, as if drained of its energy by the intensity of their emotions.

Breathless and emotionally drained, they stared at each other, their eyes mirroring a mix of regret, hurt, and lingering anger. But as the echoes of their heated argument faded, she felt a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over her. The adrenaline that had fueled her anger now deserted her, leaving her drained.

"You know what was on my mind this morning?" She suddenly spoke. "I woke up thinking I was happy to run into you again. It didn't take long for me to understand that, albeit the circumstances, I actually came to like you."

As the words spilled from her trembling lips, her voice quivered with vulnerability. But then a shadow of doubt danced in her eyes. A new wave of anger surfaced, overpowering the fragility of her confession.

"But the person I like is not this version of you. Who I like is Spencer Reid, not Doctor Reid."

He frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, right now, you're not the same guy I spent the night with. You're scrutinizing me, you're—what is it that you do again? Ah, yes, a profiler." She pointed a finger at him. "You're trying to profile me, you're trying to read my mind in my most vulnerable state because if you haven't noticed, Spencer, I'm standing here half naked while you're pestering me with your questions."

He quickly glanced away, noticing the truth in her words. He had let his anger and suspicion cloud his judgment of her, something Garcia had warned him not to do. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I'll go wait outside."

"Don't bother, I'm almost done."

But he was already out of her vision, and when she heard the soft click of the door closing behind her, she let out a shaking breath.

She stood there, her heart aching with a mix of disappointment and betrayal. His accusations had cut deep, searing through the bliss they had nurtured the past night. The warmth that once enveloped them had been replaced by a cold emptiness, leaving her feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Her eyes drifted to the unmade bed before her. The memory of the night lingered in her mind like a bittersweet melody, playing on the strings of her heart. The tender moments they had shared, the warmth that had enveloped them seemed so distant now, overshadowed by the disappointment and anger that colored her mind.

She had hoped for a peaceful morning, a continuation of the intimacy they had shared under the cover of darkness. Instead, she found herself faced with the harsh truth of their current reality, the dissonance of their unspoken tensions. His doubt had tarnished the tender memories, leaving a bitter taste on her lips.

With a heavy sigh, she let the memories of last night linger for a moment longer before gathering her strength. She walked out of the room once she was fully clothed to find him standing by his couch, his body turning at the sound of her footsteps.

"Y/n."

“Thanks for listening to me last night."

"Y/n."

"Thank you for letting me stay too."

"Y/n."

"Stop."

Her hands clenched into fists, a physical manifestation of the conflicting emotions raging within her. He watched her, and as the silence stretched between them, she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a recognition of the hurt he had inflicted. Perhaps he had acted out of fear, allowing the shadows of the investigation to cast doubt on her. But the betrayal still lingered too deeply.

"You know what frustrates me?" She wondered. His silence was a sign for her to continue. "You're questioning me not because you genuinely want to know, you're doing it out of your obligation because you think it's your job to do so."

She held out a hand when he took a step closer.

"And it's fine," she went on. "It is your job. You're the federal agent here and I'm merely someone whose name is linked to the case."

"Y/n, I didn't mean to—"

"With that being said, we should keep our relationship strictly that way."

Her words hung heavy in the air, each syllable an arrow piercing his heart. He stood there, frozen, his eyes fixed on her as if searching for a flicker of hesitation, a glimmer of doubt. But her resolve was unwavering. With a deep breath, she mustered the courage to speak once more, her voice steady and resolute.

“If you really want to know what happened, call me into your office, I'll answer your questions then.”

Her expression dulled as she held his gaze, and with one last jaded look etched in her somber eyes, she finally turned around without sparing another glance, excusing herself from his apartment.

He watched as the door closed behind her.

Spencer stood there, surrounded by an oppressive silence that echoed the void she had left behind. Time seemed to stand still as he grappled with the overwhelming flood of emotions. The truth of the situation settled upon his shoulders, the reality that their paths had diverged and the bliss they had once shared had transformed into something unrecognizable.

Just as the weight of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him entirely, his phone suddenly pinged with a new alert. Startled, he reached for it, his fingers trembling as he unlocked the screen. The digital glow illuminated his face, casting a pale light upon his features as he read the message.

PENELOPE: THEY'RE CALLING HER IN. SHE KNEW THE THIRD VICTIM.

Spencer stood frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the words. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat reverberating through his entire being. He dialed Garcia’s number only to be rejected as soon as the first ring echoed in his ear.

PENELOPE: CAN'T TALK. HOTCH IS BESIDE ME.

His heart raced, his breath quickened, and a mixture of anger, confusion, and fear surged through his veins. Spencer quickly walked over towards his window and saw a glimpse of Y/n climbing into a cab, her phone pressed against her ear. He ran a hand through his curls in frustration as his phone alerted a new message.

PENELOPE: GET YOUR ASS HERE, REID.

SPENCER: I'm on my way.

Confusion clouded him, the lines between truth and lies blurring in his head. And beneath it all, fear lurked, whispering doubts about his judgment.

A heaviness settled upon his chest, constricting his breath and swarming his thoughts. The calm that had graced his waking moments seemed like a distant memory now—his peace only lasted briefly.

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plutoispurplw · 11 hours

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Fresh Out The Slammer

Summary: You're going to see Spencer after he spent three months on the prision.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Little angst, mention of prision and murder.

A/N: Hi everyone, guess who is back to write like is running out of time! Someone has to take TTPD away from me, now this is an addiction.

Sorry if this doesn't have to much to do wuth the song and remember, english is not my first language, so please tell me if I have an error.

When Spencer was being held in custody in Mexico, you were anxious, you visited him and he was completely different from who you were accustomed to.

It was like he wasn’t mentally there, he looked like a mess and his mental stability was almost inexistent, you almost broke down when you saw him in that state.

After that visit, he didn’t let you go again to see him, he didn’t want you to see him in that state and was worried about your mental health even if he was worse in that matter.

You felt hurt at that moment but you decided to understand him and didn’t visit him again but you sent him letters, the first few letters he didn't respond to you, after some time he started to respond to your letters.

You have been feeling down all the time, being in your apartment made you feel miserable knowing he wasn't there, it felt lifeless there without his presence.

Your bed that once was your favorite place in the world became the worst place to be without his arms around you holding you and protecting you from all the things that happen out there.

You were cleaning the apartment when your phone started to ring, you took it to check who it was and when you saw his name you let out a scream. You quickly answer the call.

“Spencer, are you okay?” You said immediately when the call started, your voice was full of worry for him.

“Yes, I’m already out and I’m alright, don’t worry angel.” His voice sounded reassuring, even if he wasn’t alright he wouldn’t have told you but something inside you told you to believe him.

That calmed you instantly, knowing he was alright made your mind at peace, and the overthinking in your mind stopped even if it was for a moment.

“I’m going to be there in a couple of hours.” His voice sounded tired, knowing him you know that he hadn’t slept more than two hours or less in those three months

Now you were waiting for him in your apartment, sitting on your couch trying to read a book, but that task seemed impossible right now, your mind was only focused on the clock in the living room, checking it every few minutes.

It felt like the minutes were slowly becoming eternal, your heart was beating like it was going to get out of your chest, and your mind was running through a million thoughts at the same time.

Then you heard the door opening and you ran towards the entrance just like a little kid, when you saw him you just hugged him while tears began to spill from you’re eyes.

“I missed you so much.” You whispered against his neck, your voice breaking with every word you spoke. His hands were rubbing your back in a calming notion.

When you pulled back enough to see his face, you noticed that his face had tears spilling from his beautiful eyes, you removed them with your thumbs while you held his face in your hands.

“You don’t have any idea of how much I thought about you, All those nights, you kept me going. I read every letter you sent.” He pulled you towards him for a kiss. When his lips touched yours it was like being in heaven again.

You pulled away a little and put your head on his chest “I’m sorry that you had to go through all of that.” Your voice was weak and filled with sadness thinking about all the things that he had suffered, you looked to another side.

He pulled away a little and took you by the chin to make you see him, he started to speak again. “Even if I go through all of that, knowing that you were here is enough compensation for all the things that I had suffered in my life.”

You kissed again but with time it was more slowly and gently, the kiss was filled with the love that the two of you had for each other. You were sure that the love would never end between you two.

He was the one who you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

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radiant-reid · 2 years

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Little Touches

Summary: Just a few moments where Spencer learns how much he loves touches

could you do one where BAU! Reader and Spencer are dating, and they know each other like the backs of their own hands, so whenever he gets either anxious, overwhelmed, or is just having a bad time on a case, she knows exactly how to calm him?

spencer getting into a relationship where the other person is aware of how much he doesn’t like physical touch but he doesn’t know how to tell them that he wants to be touched, so slowly, over time, he sneaks little touches and kisses (maybe even some PDA?!)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Content Warning: Spencer gets a couple of minor injuries

Word Count: 2.6k

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Spencer had never understood touches. Scientifically, he understood why people needed to feel physical, but he didn’t have enough experiences to be agreeing that it helped him personally. He felt okay getting enough oxytocin from spending time with his friends and getting hugs from Henry.

Things were different with Y/n. From the first time he kissed her, he knew things weren’t going to stay the way they were.

Y/n was cautious going into it, concerned he’d find her level of physical affection alarming when she’d only seen him hug four people since the start of her time at the BAU.

The very first day after they got together, they were called in for a case early in the morning. Spencer was there only second to Hotch, and he'd already made two coffees when Y/n walked in.

"Here." He offered her designated mug out to her with a sheepish smile. Her coffee order had been memorized in his head since she joined the team, but he didn't have a reason to make it until now.

It was odd to see him at work when she'd just been on the phone with him the night before for two hours. Even though she'd had a crush on him for months while working alongside him, something felt different.

"You made me a coffee?" She asked once she took it, eyes darting around the quiet office.

There was a spoken agreement that they wouldn't tell the rest of the team for a while because it was so new, and things were much less messy when no one else knew.

Spencer nodded, his cheeks reddening as he looked down at the liquid in his mug. "It's my job now." He asserted before his voice got quieter. "As your boyfriend."

"Well then, I'll see you in there, boyfriend." Y/n teased a little, adoring the way the official title rolled off her tongue. Testing the boundary, she reached out to touch his forearm, letting her hand linger there for a moment before she turned off to walk up the stairs. It left that tingling feeling inside of Spencer that he didn't know was possible because of something physical rather than emotional.

They fell in love with the physical connection they got to have when they weren't masquerading as colleagues as quickly as they fell in love with each other. The early morning walks to the coffee shop before work where they could walk hand in hand and sit close to each other. The dates to the movie theater where they could sit right next to each other and Y/n could rest her head on his shoulder.

All the cases had made it difficult for them to find any time to spend together. It was something they knew would happen, but even a month in and it was hard to hang out.

So, when Spencer invited her to a French film festival, she agreed despite not being able to speak French. It was a drive-in theatre so Y/n drove so they could sit in the back of her car.

Because Spencer had to give her a whisper translated, they sat close together, but they both wanted to be just a little bit closer. His voice had been right in her ear all night, and she was ready to do something about it.

When she shifted away from him, he was worried that he'd gone too far by holding her hand. "What's wrong?" He asked, turning away from the movie to look at her.

"Nothing, but can you sit against there?" She asked, gesturing to the side of the car.

Spencer obliged her request, shuffling over so his back rested against the side instead of the back of the seats. She moved closer to him, crawling between his legs when they spread on instinct.

When she finally settled, it was with her head on his chest, her body between his legs, and her arms wrapped around him. Spencer immediately relaxed, holding her tighter to him and stroking her back. He could feel the instant effect that all those positive studies had detailed, and he wondered why he missed out on this, on her, for so long.

"Is this alright?" She checked, head tilting up to meet his fond gaze.

It was so much more than alright to him, feeling her weight on top of him like it was an anchor. "Yeah, this is really good."

Touches only became a more common part of their lives as their relationship progressed. Cuddling on the couch was much more prominent whenever they had a free evening. Outside of work, his hands were always on her. She knew it was only a matter of time before they weren't able to keep their 3-month long relationship a secret.

But Sunday mornings were not a time for that concern. Sunday mornings were a time for sleeping late and one trying to kick the other out of bed to make breakfast.

Y/n volunteered that morning since he had the last 2 times. Once she brought him coffee in bed, she got started on some pancakes. But before she could even start cooking them, two surprisingly thick, tanned forearms wrapped their way around her waist. The veins looked delicious and he struggled to not His scent engulfed her, heavy cologne in the air.

"What's this?" She asked, no longer focused on what she was doing as she tilted her head up to look into his beautiful brown eyes. The touches of gold flickered in the late morning sunshine.

"Missed you," Spencer claimed, eyes fixed on admiring the color in hers. Gently, he rocked them side to side when she turned back around to focus on breakfast, keeping his head tucked tightly into her neck.

Y/n giggled lightly, her face breaking out in a grin. "Been away from you for, like, five minutes." She reminded him but he was hardly paying attention as he peppered kisses on her cheeks.

Before she could keep cooking, Spencer spun her around and sat her up on the counter so he could stand in between her knees, keeping his face only inches away from hers.

"So? Every minute I don't get to see your face is terrible." He told her dramatically.

"What do you do when you're sleeping then?" She asked, trying to find a question to trick him.

But alas, her genius boyfriend couldn't be tricked, and his romantic wooing only came out more intense. "Not a problem because I dream about you."

"Stop" She squealed, hitting him on the shoulder. "You're the absolute sappiest."

"Never going to stop." He promised her, clearly meaning something more serious than a casual retort.

The way he looked with the sun streaming through the big windows in his apartment was criminal. So insanely attractive it was unfair. Like he was made to stand in the sun with his cheekbones pronounced and his eyes a shade lighter.

"I love you." He said, beating her to it.

"I love you." She smiled back, leaning forward an extra inch to rest her forehead against and letting her eyelids flutter closed. Spencer did the same thing, breathing in and out calmly and in sync with her.

There was something so grounding about it, being so close to someone you love with your whole heart, and it took away so much of the stress they had placed on them due to their jobs. She could feel his breath against her skin with every exhale, warm and comforting.

They only pulled away when Spencer's stomach rumbled, making her giggle. "So, pancakes?" He asked, eyes flicking to the bowl.

"Your favorite." She answered. "But I'm just going to sit here looking pretty while you cook them."

He chuckled, eyes drifting down to her figure covered by just one of his shirts and a pair of panties. It was his favorite sight in the world. "You absolutely need to just sit there and look pretty." He assured her.

Happily, she agreed, letting him cook before eventually sitting next to him at the kitchen island to eat, which always led to Spencer spinning the barstool she was sitting on with his foot playfully and unexpectedly. They spent all morning there, talking, reading the newspaper, and getting impossibly closer.

Then the phone rang, and, separately, they were being invited to dinner at Rossi's.

"Always look pretty in that dress," Spencer told her later that evening as they changed. Even if they had to go separately and pretend they weren't a couple there, they were going to spend the whole day together.

Y/n spun around from where she was critiquing herself in the mirror, taking in her incredibly beautiful boyfriend in his dark blue suit. "Thank you." She replied, stepping closer to kiss his cheek. Her lipstick left a bright pink mark on his cheek.

"Lovely, I can't go like this." He joked, reaching across the counter for a makeup wipe.

Sitting up on the countertop, she looked at his skillful fingers as they wiped off the mark. "I like marking you up, though." She countered, earning an immediate blush on his cheeks.

He stopped what he was doing, turning his head to look at her. "Do you mean that as something different?" He asked, trying to stop himself from reading into what felt like a lighthearted comment.

Y/n had only meant it jokingly, not about revealing their whole life, but his question made her think harder about it. "Yeah... yes, I do." She stated a bit more firmly. "I want everyone to know."

"Not as much as I want everyone to know." He stated, stepping closer to her where he could place his hands on the counter on either side of her body. "Tonight?" He asked, dropping his head down, so they were face to face, just inches apart.

"Tonight," Y/n confirmed, leaning forward to kiss him. She ran her finger along his lipstick-covered bottom lip. "Oh, yeah, they'll know now definitely."

He grinned while blushing, moving out of her way so she could hop down. "Let's go then." He grabbed her hand as soon as he could, leading her through the house to the car.

His hand stayed on her thigh the whole drive to Rossi's, reassuring her that everything would be okay because she was nervous even if she wasn't showing it.

When he parked the car, and she realized everyone else was there, her concerns about what they would think doubled. "We'll be alright." He assured her, placing a kiss on her cheek before dragging her out of the car.

"So we're just going to knock on the door and do this?" She asked, tightening her grip on his hand.

"Sure." Spencer agreed, surprisingly more calm than she thought he would be. He knocked when she couldn't, eyes darting to her while they waited for someone to come open it.

Penelope was there first, and her squeal quickly brought everyone else to the foyer, earning Y/n and Spencer a round of hugs and congratulations from everyone. There was nothing but excitement from all of their friends. Spencer's knee rested against hers for the whole dinner, and the smiles that were plastered on both of their faces only grew each time they looked at each other.

Round table meetings had always had a seating plan, even if it wasn't official, and Y/n's designated spot was right next to her boyfriend. But it was difficult for her to be so close to him without touching him, so they settled for something smaller.

They'd fallen into a routine of touches, and that morning wasn't any different. After he walked in with her coffee, he sat next to her, and when the case presentation started, his pinky finger came to rest against hers, touching her just enough that she could deal with everything she was about to hear.

The case wasn't any worse than usual, but Y/n could tell Spencer had a bad feeling about it, just from how he was a little more flustered than usual.

His stressing didn't stop at the precinct in Miami, and he was struggling to make the proper connections as he looked at the board.

"Here." Y/n handed him a cup of coffee when she walked in, failing to tell him it was decaf. Hotch and Morgan were watching the interaction from the table where they were going over some of the suspect files.

"Thanks," Spencer said, taking it from her.

While they looked at the board, she reached down to wrap her fingers around his wrist, touching her fingers to his pulse point. It was fast, far too quick. "You've gotta breathe, baby." She whispered quiet enough that no one could hear. "Your big brain can't work if you're so tense."

He understood by the nod he gave her, looking at her just for a moment before going back to the board with much more relaxed shoulders.

Two minutes later, he was rushing out of the room, throwing some instructions to Y/n and Hotch and taking Morgan with him. "How do you do that?" Hotch asked as she sat down across from him.

"What?" She asked, looking up at him, a little nervously like she was about to get in trouble.

"I've worked with him for 7 years, and I've never seen him relax as quickly as he does whenever you do that thing that you do." He explained.

Y/n smiled a little, grateful she could help him. "I don't know, but I'm glad I can."

"So am I." He replied, breaking his stoic expression to smile at her.

Somehow, it went wrong. Terribly wrong, and by the time Y/n and Hotch ended up at the crime scene, Spencer was sitting in the back of an ambulance.

As soon as the SUV stopped, she was jumping out to race over to his side. "What happened?" She asked, concern filling her voice.

Spencer was holding an icepack to his eye while a medic shone a light in the other. "Got my ass kicked." He joked, trying not to let her worry too much.

"Baby." She cooed, sitting next to him when the medic, not worried about anything more than superficial damage, left them. "Your pretty face." She pouted, reaching out to cup his cheeks and running her thumbs over his cheekbones. There were stitches on one side, skin red.

"Not just my face," Spencer admitted, pulling up his shirt so she could see the bruise that was already forming on his lower stomach.

It looked really bad and she reached out to touch his side, trying to be gentle but he still winced. She moved back to sitting next to him, cupping his cheeks again. His bottom lip was split, he had a black eye forming, and there was a cut above his eyebrow. She leaned forward, peppering a few kisses around his cheeks and jawline, anywhere she could get them without causing him pain.

"Stop looking at me like that." He complained, a little red.

"Nuh-uh. You're too hurt for that baby." She reasoned, maintaining eye contact with him. "And don't be pretending that you do like these little touches."

He chuckled out a breath, immediately wishing he hadn't when his ribs started hurting. "I do. More than you could ever know."

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snarkylinda · 6 months

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Derek check-in on Spencer after prison always fucks me up, y'know? I mean putting aside the fact we didn't actually see it (shaking my fist at the studio as we speak), Spencer literally had to stab himself to survive. The first thing he did when J.J told him they were getting him out was literally breath. Not cry, just fucking breath because the level of unsafety he constantly was under caused an whole dissociation onto a dissociation. That is all he felt for months- unsafe. Relying on himself alone to survive.

And like there is a reason why that crazy woman called Derek his "protector"- he literally was. Not only making sure that Spencer doesn't get himself killed at the field cause that is given -I mean look at him babygirl don't even wear a proper vest- but on the small things like putting him aside when Spencer spirals -too many examples to put here but think of that scene in Zugwang where Diane aka the Unsub is trying to talk to him but he is too anxious to even look at her and Derek comes behind to dismiss her- he was there whenever Spencer wanted to do his own little thing on the background as everyone else just stared at him weirdly to go full "hey hey, let him cook"- he literally was his rock, Spencer seeked him out ON DREAMS (The Instincts) cause he is a mess and having someone constantly on your corner just feels good, y'know?

I always joke about the fact that this grow ass man acts as his friend died when this random psychopath mentions his name when he literally saw him 6 episodes ago-and I still will because lmao 💀 honey go to therapy please- but....yeah he has every reason to fall fucking apart, less than a year away from the person that always was by his side and he ends up literally fearing for his life every single fucking day.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #i choose to believe Derek was still there when the whlle Scratch mess was over #cause *vague gesturing toward Spencer literally falling apart and wearing the same suit for like 3 days*

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hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds · 7 months

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Emily Prentiss X Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau X Autistic Teen Reader

Request: hiii! could i request one where the reader is the child (they/them pronouns please!) of JJ and Emily and they're autistic and have a meltdown and jemily helps them through it? preferably the reader being an older teen. thank youuu :))

Third person pov...

It was Y/N Jareau-Prentiss first day at their new high school, the 16 year old was nervous to start the new year in a new classroom, with a new teacher and completely new classmates.

JJ and Emily knowing their child gets overwhelmed a lot with things like this met their child's teacher before hand and explained to him how Y/N is autistic and gets overwhelmed easily and will need support.

The teacher was happy to accommodate which helped relax the mothers, at 7am Emily woke up and turned off her alarm she then, shook her wife awake, the blonde woman groaned and turned away making her wife sigh.

Emily then yawned and kisses her wife on the cheek before getting out from the warm covers and wonders into wake-up Y/N, currently the 16 year old was asleep, they hadn't slept well because of how nervous they were for the new school year.

Emily smiles and gently wakes them up, being a light sleeper Y/N wakes up when she shakes them, they give their Mum and sleepy smile. "Good morning honey" she smiled; "Mum" yawns the teen stretching.

Emily smiles and places their clothes on their bed to get dressed in. "you ger dressed honey, I'll go wake Momma up again" says the black haired woman before leaving, the 16 year old then gets up out of bed and into their clothes.

This is their routine in the morning, their Mums wakes them up at 7, then they get dressed and have breakfast downstairs. Since finding out their kid was autistic the two women spent every waking moment researching to help understand their child and listen to them.

While Y/N was getting dressed Emily walked back into her room to wake up her sleeping wife, JJ had definitely fallen back to sleep making her wife sigh, suddenly an idea forms.

Emily walks back into her childs room and devious grin on her face. "hey N/N wanna wake up mum with me?" she askes the kid, Y/N sees the look on her face and grins. "Definitely" "okayy lets go!" Yells Emily.

The two then run to Emily and JJS room grins on their faces, Y/N peaks their head in and sees their Mum still asleep with a pillow over her head.

Emily and Y/N grin evilly before jumping onto the bed shaking JJ effectively awake. The blonde woman groans at the assault on her sleep but smiles at her family none the less.

"Morning guys" she grins at the duo on her bed, they grin identical grins back. "Time to get up I suppose" she questions, "yet sleepy head, come on N/N let's makes breakfast" Says Emily, the mother and Teen then run of to the kitchen leaving the blonde behind to get dressed and wake up.

Hours later the family of three are getting out of the car outside Y/Ns high school, the Teen was nervously flapping their hands (stimming) and swaying as they wait for their parents to get out of the car.

JJ and Emily soon get out and lock the car, they stand beside their obviously anxious child. The teen breathes in and out before bringing their hands to rest by their sides but still flapping them.

They look up at their parents faces before the trio begin walking towards the office, as they stepped foot onto the busy grounds Y/N felt overstimulated, their ears hurt and flight or fight response where telling them to run.

But then it was quiet, JJ patted her childs shoulder she had put their ear defenders on, she noticed the early signs of a meltdown before the teenager did, sighing sofly Y/N felt better not as overwhelmed but it was still there.

For the past couple of years the teen had been homeschooled as they couldn't deal with school, the bullies and the people. For them it was too loud too crowded, which why their Uncle Spencer suggested they get her a diagnosis and of course the genius was right Y/N was autistic, since then they have been learning about having an Autistic child and helping to understand their child a lot more.

As they continue walking Y/N could feel it coming - the creeping sensation of overwhelming anxiety that had been slowly building up all day. Despite their best efforts at controlling their emotions, the feeling of rising panic was too much, and tears began to roll down their cheeks.

As this was happening they made it to the office, JJ speaks to the receptionists asking where the sensory room is, Emily comforts their child, the receptionist spots Y/Ns state and quickly showed them.

Once they were alone Y/N sunk to the floor curling in on themselves, realising it was a meltdown JJ and Emily quickly they jumped into action, JJ gathered her child up in a hug, providing pressure.

while Emily stood protectively by their side, though her leg was pressed against Y/Ns back so they new she was still there.

JJ was almost the more affectionate one while Emily didn't do physical touch but had her owns ways of helping. "shh shh its okay N/N" "its okay Mum is here and so is Mumma" "yeah don't worry kid we wont leave you" the two woman whisper to their distressed child.

With soft words of encouragement and pressure JJ strokes Y/Ns hair and back. They reminded the teen of the things they enjoy and talking about their special interests and the strategies Spencer had taught them for dealing with anxiety and meltdowns.

For the next half hour or so, Y/Ns parents gently guided the H/C teen through their meltdown. They reassured them and tried to look at things from their perspective so that they could gain new insight and understanding. They also gave her new ways to handle her emotions, slowly, very slowly, the feeling of panic began to subside and everything that was overwhelming them before stopped.

Y/Ns breathing evened out, and they were able to start taking in their surroundings again. JJ and Emily stayed close, offering words of support and reassurance once they had fully clamed down Y/N took of their headphones and looked at at their Mums and smiled.

"thank you" the teen mumbled, earning them a smile and hug from their parents making them feel better instantly.

The end!

Hope you liked this so sorry for the wait ive been super busy at college my art class has been super busy working on projects.

Requests are open!

Word count: 1155

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greywritesthings · 2 months

Text

Breath

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

TW : parental death, hints at abuse, panic attacks, mild self harm, burn out, self neglect, just a not very happy fic but happy ish ending

A/N : This took two days to write and I'm still not happy with it but I may do a really fluffy part 2 soon, this can also be read as romantic or platonic.

Masterlist

Spencer reid masterlist

It all felt like too much. The world felt like it was falling apart around her. She couldn't get air in nor out of her lungs. Each attempt took more effort than the last. It felt like an elephant had sat on her chest. The room spun as her panic rose, tears streaming down her cheeks, a sob ripped through her body as she crashed to the floor, dropping her glass in the process.

She couldn't pinpoint what brought it on, it could be the last back to back cases the team had, both involving children, it could be the fact that her mom had died two months ago leaving her alone in the world at 23 and she had had no time to process it, or even tell Hotch. Or it could be the lack of sleeping and eating across these two months. Her ability to think just got cloudier and cloudier, as she clawed at her arms trying to regain some feeling of reality.

A loud knock rang through her apartment “Y/N? You okay?” Spencer calls through the door. He had heard the sound of her hitting the floor and something else crashing too causing him to go up the stairs to her apartment. He had a key to use as she did for him but he never just walked into her apartment. After he heard what he thought was sobbing on the other side of the door he decided to just go in.

He found y/n curled up on the floor, shattered remains of the glass next to her. He decided to deal with the glass later and take care of her first. As he knelt down next to her, covering her hands that were still scratching at her arms with his, holding them to stop her. She looked up at him still crying and hyperventilating but relaxed slightly at the sight of Spencer, feeling safer but no less anxious. “y/n, you need to breathe, in for five out for 5, it's okay, breathe.” He stands back up going into her freezer to grab a long ice pack she kept on hand. He placed it around her neck. He put her hand on his chest and coaxed her to match his breathing pattern. Once he decided she was breathing as close to normal he pulled her up gently and walked over to the couch, once he sat down and threw his legs up on the couch he pulled her down next to him, holding her as she cried herself to the point she fell asleep.

It was only once she had fully settled he decided to slip away from her, deciding he should clear away the glass. He took a moment to notice how dishevelled the apartment looked compared to normal. Cups and plates were strewn across the counter, clothes had been left in the washer, the fridge blackboard hadn't been cleaned off from four weeks ago and when he opened it he noticed the fridge was mostly empty, then when he decided to check the pantry and freezer they were much the same. He knew she had struggled some with the last few cases but it looked like something else had happened aside from them. He decided to clean up, going through the apartment room by room till it was as he remembered. After checking she was still sleeping he wrote her a note and put it on the coffee table that he had just gone out and would be back. He got a small grocery shop, mostly stuff he knew she liked and ingredients for easy to cook meals.

When he got back she was still lying down on the sofa but he knew she was awake, as she didn't look at him he decided to just put the stuff away and then talk to her about what caused this.

“Do you want to hug again? Or can I sit in the armchair?” he offered to her and was confused when she stood up, before she grabbed his hand and walked over to her bedroom, falling onto her bed, dragging him with her as he kicked off his shoes. “Can you tell me what brought it on y/n? That's the worst one I've ever seen you have.” he asks into the quiet. “It's a lot Spence, life's been a lot.” she responds, holding back from opening the floodgates on how her life has pretty much fallen apart in the span of two months. “You can tell me, nothing will scare me off, I promise.” he notices her tense up before she says “My mum died, a month ago, i never really had a relationship with her after everything her and her boyfriend put me through and now she's dead. It's just weird, I have all these feelings towards her and so much I wanted to say but now she's gone and I can't say any of it. And these last few cases have been hell on earth and I ended up not eating, not sleeping. I can barely shower, everything's just too much.” She broke down for the second time today, in Spencer's arms this time. He just held her as she cried, pressing soft kisses into her hair and whispering to her. She slowly stopped crying but they stayed as they were for the rest of the day, aside from getting up to grab Thai and put on a documentary in the late afternoon. He decided to call off work for the pair of them for the rest of the week to give her a break and so he could be there for her if she needed him.

#greyswritings #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Note

since ur taking reid rq.. could u do another grumpy x sunshine w reid !! whoever is grumpy or sunshine is up to you <33 :)

The first hand that landed on your own sent you into a downward spiral of panic. Your chest tightened, your breathing hitched, and your skin felt like it was burning.

The second hand that landed on your own, on the other side, tugged you protectively into a sweater-clad chest, the other man's hand falling away from yours.

"Keep your hands to yourself," Spencer spat, his voice from above you sounding more venomous than you'd ever heard it before, "This is a place of business, and they're clearly not interested."

"You have no seniority here," The officer who'd been making advances on you sneered at Spencer, glancing up and down at the young doctor's outfit, "Do you even have a badge?"

"I don't need seniority to knock your teeth out." Spencer tracked the man's eyes, watching as they raked down your frame next, and stepping in front of you, now ominously closer to the offending officer, "And I can easily report you for harassment."

The officer seemed to suddenly realize how much taller Spencer was than him, fear flashing in his eyes before he schooled his expression back to neutral. He rolled his eyes, feigning disinterest when really, the reason he was walking away was because he was convinced that Spencer would have curb stomped him.

You stood awkwardly behind Spencer, shame heating your cheeks. You were absolutely mortified that Spencer had needed to step in and save you, even though you were insanely grateful for his help. You reined yourself in, trying to feign the bubbly personality that you usually carried yourself with, knowing that your coworkers, especially Spencer, would notice if you weren't as happy as you usually were. You were sure your smile didn't reach your eyes, but maybe it'd work, if he didn't pay too much attention to you.

Spencer watched the man walk away, waiting until he was out of the room before turning to you. His face, usually blank or slightly surly, now oozed concern, his eyes darting around your face to track your expression.

There went your plan.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," You chuckled sheepishly, the sound familiar to him, but the tone foreign and forced, "Thank you Spencer, I'm sorry, uh- well, I'm sorry you had to do that."

"It wasn't your fault," Spencer frowned, setting a hand on your arm once more, "You told him you didn't want anything from him. He just wouldn't stop."

"Can.. Can we go somewhere else? Like, just- another room or something?" You shifted nervously under Spencer's scrutiny, trying to exude less panic than you knew you were exposing. You knew Spencer had never seen you anxious like this, and you hated knowing that your persona had been compromised.

"Of course," Spencer ushered you towards the door, holding it open for you and letting his hand slip to the small of your back.

You hurried back to the central office of the precinct, reveling in the presence of your other coworkers. Spencer guided you to an empty seat, bracing his palms on the back of your chair and leaning over you, his forearms framing your head.

"You sure you're okay?" Spencer murmured, trying to attract as little attention as possible to you. But his concern was just as obvious as it was unusual, and there were several raised eyebrows in your direction.

"I'm fine, I promise." You smiled gratefully at him, this one a little closer to being genuine, "Thank you again."

He studied your expression for only a second longer than he should have, nodding stiffly afterwards. He took his own seat, and even though you'd just reassured him, you felt his eyes flit to you seconds after he'd sat down.

"What was that about?" Emily leaned in to whisper to you, throwing a cautious glance back at Spencer from her seat.

"He helped me back there," You gestured to the room you'd just come from, "That douchey officer tried touching me."

Her eyes shot open in concern and she did the same thing Spencer had done, frantically looking you over, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," You nodded, throwing a quick glance over to Spencer and looking away just as speedily when he met your eyes, "'Just embarrassed, I guess. That he had to help me. I'm usually a little more put-together than this."

"He'd never make fun of you," Emily rolled her eyes, "Especially not for something like that."

"He doesn't make fun of people," You mused, "He just silently judges everyone, and you have no idea what he's thinking, but it's definitely rude. I don't want that to be me."

"Trust me," She scoffed incredulously, "It'll never be you."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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smurphyse · 9 months

Text

Doors I Painted Shut | Spencer Reid

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 7 of Routine Maintenance

Warnings: arguments, mentions of suicidal thoughts, mentions of Spencer's past drug use, bad flirting, makeouts, awkward boners

Summary: Spencer and Emily have a serious talk. Later, Spencer can't keep his eyes off you at a bonfire.

The walk to his room reminded Spencer of the BAU. Every time he'd had to trudge down to the Chief's office, knowing he was about to get yelled at, played through his mind and made his shoulders sink.

He struggled with the sticky door, and eventually Emily opened it for him. She walked in and sat down on his bed, and Spencer plopped down next to her. They sat there awkwardly for a few minutes, all the happiness at seeing one another for the first time in two years dissipating into the anxious pool of memory.

"You look skinny," she finally said. "Are you eating enough?"

Spencer groaned and rubbed his face with his hand, "Ugh, Emily."

"I'm sorry. Sorry," she said softly, holding up her hands in defeat. She pointed to his face, "How are you holding up?"

"I'm just glad it's not broken. I was worried the next time I saw Morgan he wouldn't call me pretty boy anymore." Spencer chuckled weakly, hoping it would make this all less uncomfortable, but Emily didn't.

"So you're planning on coming back to DC sometime?"

Spencer shrugged, "I don't know."

She nodded, looking around the room to quell some of her anxiety as he glowered down at his feet. Emily pointed to the dresser across from the bed. It was littered with bottles from the past few days. "You're drinking again."

"I'm not using. Don't worry," he muttered. He dug through his pocket and pulled out a metal coin, holding it up to her. "I've still got my chip. I go to meetings."

"Of course I'm worried, Spence-," she began, but Spencer didn't want to hear it. He stood sharply and flung out a hand in irritation.

"I didn't ask you to, Emily! I'm a grown man and I can take care of myself!" Spencer didn't know why he was shouting, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Yeah, and you're doing a great job with a busted face and a dislocated arm from a bar fight!" she yelled back, standing with him. "Look at you! You're in the middle of nowhere, getting into fights, going off with strangers. You don't even look like yourself!"

"I'm doing my best," Spencer hissed through gritted teeth. "Did it ever occur to you that I don't want to be myself anymore? Or at least not who I was back then?"

He turned toward the sliding door, making his way toward it. It was still latched shut, the curtains stock still instead of waving in the breeze like his first day. Spencer glared at the lock, but he couldn't bring himself to open it. If he did, he might just take off running for the beach.

"Do you remember how I found you two years ago?" Emily's voice came softly from behind him. "The day before Diana died?"

Of course Spencer remembered. Everything was falling apart. He was having nightmares, failed relationship after failed relationship, arguments with his friends. His mother was dying, a waste of her former self… her brilliant mind was gone. He'd been drinking for days alone in his apartment, existing in a court of horrors led by the ghosts of his past.

Emily came in with her extra key. She found him crying in the other room. Spencer had a 1967 Colt .45 hanging loosely from his fingers, gathering up the courage to put it in his mouth. Emily smiled as she eased the gun from his hand, and he was frozen with joy that someone, anyone, had stopped him.

He looked her straight in the eye as they both cried silent tears. She got to her knees in front of him and held his face so gently his whole being crumbled.

It's been years since I've been low like this, he'd told her. I don't like me.

Emily drove him to his mother's nursing home then, pumping him with coffee to sober him up. He was at her side when she died, and everything became crystal clear. He knew why Gideon left, why he never came back even though he loved Spencer and the team. They were as much ghosts as the people they couldn't save.

"I don't like me," Spencer whispered now as he watched the sun over the ocean. It seemed so peaceful out there, like if he walked into the waves they would carry him where he was supposed to go.

"The next day, when you told me she passed and you gave me your resignation…" Emily's voice cracked as she came up behind him. He had to close his eyes to take the impact of her words. "I thought that was the last time I was ever going to see you until I had to identify your body."

"Yet I'm still here," he said bitterly. Pure venom dripped from his tongue as he said it, and a bit of gratitude. She had saved him so he could spend his mother's last moments on this earth with her, and he would forever be thankful for that. She gave him the courage to make a change and leave instead of ending it all in one final blast of blood and bone and gunpowder.

He thought he'd painted this door shut, but now there was a draft coming from underneath. He didn't want to die, but he was petrified of getting up and facing those demons. That's why he ran away, why he was still running away.

"When you called me from Georgia, I was so proud of you." Emily's hands landed softly on his shoulders, and she pressed her forehead into his spine. "You were alive, you were out there. I thought you were going to find yourself and what makes you happy.

"You were supposed to come back, Spencer."

Spencer turned slowly, taking one of her hands in his. He squeezed her fingers and looked her dead in the eyes, "I'm never coming back to the BAU. I don't belong there anymore."

"You could teach-."

"Teach FBI recruits that the BAU is a rewarding place to work? You and I both know that's not true. Just like the people we hunt, that place destroys people," he growled, baring his teeth. "That job killed me, Emily. I'm out here trying to rise from the fucking ashes, not glue a broken vase and fill it back up with trauma."

"I don't like me," Spencer said brokenly. He passed her and went to the bottle-laden dresser. "I don't want to die… or maybe I do, I don't know."

Spencer licked his lip, looking up to see himself in the mirror on the wall. His hair touched his shoulders, a beard he never would have had at twenty four growing scraggly across his chin. His mottled nose made his eyes look even more sunken in and exhausted, and he even noticed a few gray hairs at his temples.

"I wanted the Spencer Reid you knew to die, and he did, Emily. He's gone."

"I loved that Spencer," she affirmed, but she didn't know what she was talking about. "He was sweet, and so much smarter than we deserved. I've never met anyone so full of love and kindness."

The rage that had been simmering at the back of his heart suddenly went full boil. He hated that Spencer, mostly because he disappeared without him even noticing, replaced by the broken shell of a man he was when he left.

Sweeping his arm, Spencer thrust all the bottles on the dresser to the floor. They crashed on the hardwood in a flurry of glass and plastic, making Emily jump a few steps back.

His chest heaving, Spencer turned to look at her. Hot wet tears soaked his cheeks, grief consuming his soul as he watched his best friend.

"Spencer…" she whispered, her eyes welling.

"I need you to know, I love you still," he told her. "I don't like me. Not this me. The best version of myself is still out there, and I am not coming home until I find him."

Emily's jaw tightened. She nodded in agreement, "I hope he's better than the one in front of me now."

Something in his chest ripped apart at her words. Decades of love and friendship was now the distance between them. Spencer never questioned Emily's love for him, and she was the only one who never treated him like a burden… but she knew the old him too well. He was now used to being a shadow in the night, and here was the light of day exposing him and all of his pain.

"Is everything okay?" Honey's voice came frantically. She rounded the doorframe and into the room, her bare feet coming to a stop just before all the broken glass.

Her eyes flicked warily between Spencer and Emily, and she pointed a thumb over her shoulder, "I'll…go get a broom."

"You don't have to clean this up," Spencer told her quietly. He ran an anxious hand through his hair and gave her an apologetic look.

Honey made a face, "I'm not cleaning up shit. I ain't your maid."

Then she was gone, leaving just Spencer and Emily once more. Emily started laughing, "I really like her, Spence."

He glowered at her, but he couldn't help but chuckle, "You shouldn't."

Honey came back a second later with a bucket and a broom. She set them just inside the doorframe, pointedly ignoring Spencer and flashing Emily a big smile. "You going to the bonfire tonight? Drinks and food on the beach, plus music."

Emily smiled back, then pointed at Spencer. "We'll be there."

Honey tapped the door frame before disappearing again. He turned to her and grumbled, "Why did you do that? I don't want to go to a bonfire."

Emily shrugged, "Old Spencer hated bonfires and parties. Shouldn't new Spencer try them out?"

"Look," she sighed when he gritted his teeth in response. "I'm not going to tell you what to do, even though all I want to do is burden you with sisterly advice. But…"

She stepped around the glass and picked up the broom, handing it to him. The plastic was cool in his hand, light as a feather. "Clean yourself up. Take as long as it takes. Be alone as much as you need to be. But don't you ever forget that if at any moment you need to call me, or I need to get on a plane… I will do that."

Emily's eyes blazed with the weight of her words, and suddenly the broom seemed like a broadsword, the thing he'd use to slay any demon in his path. "I love you, Spencer Reid. I love all the men that you are, that you will be, and that you have been. All these years, all these hurts and loves and losses and I've never stopped. I never will."

Spencer's chin wobbled pitifully as he watched her, his voice shaking, "You promise?"

Emily's hands lashed out, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Spencer's tears quickly turned into sobs of relief. Deep down, he knew her words were true, but hearing them out loud and instead of in the teensy tiny optimist section of his brain made everything better.

"I promise," she swore, clutching him tightly. They swayed back and forth as they held one another, just reveling in the comfort of a lifelong friend

"I promise."

Around seven, Emily went to get changed for the bonfire. They'd cleaned up the glass together and put it in the bucket Honey brought. Spencer wasn't quite sure why, but he couldn't bring himself to throw away the broken pieces just yet, so he left it by the bedside.

They laid on the bed after, talking about the last two years more in depth than he had ever on a Zoom call. At his request, Emily left out most of the nitty gritty things about work, instead telling him about the team and their families. He told her about all the places he'd been, and she was most excited about the World's Largest places like the ball of twine and the rocking chair.

His shoulder was already feeling better, mostly just sore. He was looking forward to taking it off completely, but followed Dr. Altman's direction to keep it on another day. He even managed to dress himself, this time in an old FBI tee Emily brought him and a blue over shirt and khakis. He still wasn't a fan of jeans, and after Mexico likely never would be.

The summer heat soared while they were inside, and even though the sun was close to setting, sweat immediately formed on the back of Spencer's neck. They walked easily to the beach, Spencer pointing out some of the places he'd found to Emily. She told him about her night with Honey, how after a few drinks she'd spilled more than she meant to.

"I shouldn't have told her you worked with the FBI," she apologized. She'd opted for some shorts and a tee, holding some flip flops in her hand as they walked. "I'm sorry."

"Honestly? It's okay," Spencer decided with a small smile. "Last night, I told the guys about some of my work. They were really great to talk to. I think I needed to let some of it out."

"They all served, right? I'm sure they understood where you were coming from."

"They were all Rangers except for Lionel," Spencer agreed, laughing a bit. "I guess he was in the Army Ranger Wing in the Defense Forces of Ireland. You wouldn't think it with all the piercings."

"People aren't what they seem at face value, Spence. You of all people know that," Emily told him as they hit the beach. He could see people playing soccer and hanging around the bonfire. There was already a nice little crowd forming, cheering on the players. "They're like onions. Nothing but layers."

Spencer grunted in agreement, because unfortunately she was right. He'd judged too many of these people too early. He was begrudgingly enjoying them and this little town. Even Honey was growing on him.

He spotted her as they reached the bonfire. She wore a tiny pair of shorts and a sports bra, running around the makeshift soccer field. Her long tanned legs gleamed in the fading light, shining with sweat and flecks of sand. Her wild hair strained to be free from her ponytail, bouncing behind her as she bolted around.

They were using old fishing nets attached to poles as their goals. Honey was lightning fast, faking people out and running circles around them. Even though she was barefoot and on sand, she showed no signs of slowing down. She passed the ball to Rico, who caught it with the side of his foot, tapped it to correct the direction, then bolted for the goal.

Someone blocked his way, and they fumbled for the ball for a moment before Rico spotted Honey at the corner of the box. He kicked it her way, but it caught air and soared over the players in the middle of the field. Honey wasn't deterred, expertly letting it hit her chest and catching it with her foot. One cannon-like swing of her leg later, and it barreled through the goalie and into the net.

"Fuck yes!" Rico roared happily. He and the rest of the team rushed Honey as the crowd cheered.

Spencer watched with a reluctant smile as he picked her up and set her on his hip, all of them far too excited for a beachside pickup game. Emily made a beeline for Collie, who stood with Rose and Mattie May by the drinks cooler. A strong jawed man stood next to Collie with his arm around her waist as they approached, and Spencer assumed he was Augustín.

Collie made some introductions, confirming Spencer's thoughts. Augustín wore a linen white shirt and matching shorts, his dark eyes locking into Spencer's as Collie introduced him.

His grip was strong as he clasped Spencer's hand in both of his, "I want to apologize for my son's hotheadedness. I could blame it on his Latin blood, but in truth he's a boy lost in the woods."

Spencer shook his head, "There's nothing to apologize for. I like Rico. Plus, I think we're all a little lost, right?"

Augustín flashed Collie an approving look, and Spencer hoped that was a good thing. He patted Spencer's cheek and nodded, "You're a good boy. I can tell."

"Uh, thanks," Spencer said as he released his hand from his death grip. The rest of them chuckled and went about passing around drinks.

Rose seemed to have him pegged, handing him a plastic cup with bourbon in it, then giving Emily a beer. Augustín held up his own to the center of the group and proudly declared, "Salúd!"

"Salúd!" they echoed, clinking their drinks together. Spencer savored the burn as it went down, absentmindedly glancing back to Honey.

She was panting, coming down from her excitement and chatting with Rico, Holly, and Michelle from the diner. Spencer hadn't seen her without a shirt on before, and he couldn't help but admire her athletic body. She was well toned from years at sea and working with tools, a nice sheen of sweat glimmering off her skin from running around.

He hadn't seen her smile very much, but it looked good on her. She waved her hands around as she spoke animatedly, making them all laugh. Rico stood a respectable distance away from her, but they seemed to have made up with the way she talked with him. He was happy about that. The thought of being a point of contention between them left a sour feeling in his gut.

"Just like that," Emily murmured as she elbowed him lightly, "an IQ of 187 is slashed to 60."

"Shut up," he growled back playfully, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. She was truly a beautiful woman who held herself with confidence, even if it contained an overwhelming grief. She put on a good front in front of her friends, one she didn't seem to put the effort into showing Spencer.

She caught his eye, trailing off and letting her friends take over the conversation. Excusing herself, she went over to him, and Spencer broke away from Emily and his group to meet her halfway.

"What happened to, 'that doesn't sound like my idea of a good time?'" Honey asked playfully, badly mimicking his voice.

"Maybe I'm tired of being Mr. Buzzkill," he replied easily, making her laugh. Spencer pointed toward the cooler behind him, "Can I get you a drink?"

She shook her head slowly, giving him a soft smile. "I'm gonna stick with water tonight."

"Brave girl," he marveled, taking a cheeky sip of his bourbon. In situations like this, it became his lifeline, something to hold onto.

They stood there for a while, silently sizing one another up. Honey's coy smile set a fire in his belly, though a part of his brain wanted to blame it on the alcohol. She waved a stray hand to his sling.

"How's the arm?" she asked with a wide grin that he couldn't help but return.

"Getting better. I'm looking forward to taking it off tomorrow."

"Good," she murmured, but as stilted as this conversation was she didn't seem uncomfortable. Instead she took a few steps closer until she was at his side, looking off at the ocean. He preferred looking at her.

"You ever sail?"

Spencer shook his head, "I'm not a strong swimmer."

Her eyes trailed the distance to the sunset, stretching far away. A light breeze caught her hair and made it dance in time with the waves, and she made no move to tuck that wildness away.

"I miss it."

Spencer nudged her a bit with his elbow, and she turned to look at him with a soft swell of grief. A quote surfaced in his mind at the sight of her resilience, the gaping wound that would never quite heal. Give your tears back to the ocean. You have no use for them anymore.

He almost said it aloud, but it was too personal. Instead he gave her a weak smile and said, "Good thing it isn't going anywhere anytime soon."

Honey smiled, a pretty shy smile as her bruised cheeks flushed. She rubbed an anxious hand over her neck as she glanced away from him, quickly catching sight of the water and pointing out toward it.

"There's nothing like the smell of the salt water. Chasing the sunset…letting everything go and knowing you're nothing out there." He eyes faded once more, adventure taking over as a memory clicked in her mind. Her voice was soft as she continued, "You're at the mercy of the gods… They'll guide you home, or pull you under."

"That sounds like life," Spencer whispered. "You either give up under the water or fight to break the surface."

Honey cocked her head and watched him softly in the fading light. Her mouth quirked into a thoughtful smile, "What happens if you're too tired of treading water?"

Spencer shrugged, making a face, "You find someone to help hold you up."

"And if they're not a strong swimmer?"

That surprised him, but she couldn't be talking about him. She barely knew him, and didn't seem to want to. Was she just asking for advice? Did she want to know how he'd made it this far with what she now knew of him? Maybe she was testing him.

Spencer's gaze bored into hers, though, his voice strong. "Then you teach them how. You save each other."

Honey seemed satisfied with his answer, and she nodded in reply. She turned to look at her feet, kicking the sand as she gathered her thoughts. Everyone around them chatted happily, focused on one another as Spencer and Honey stood off to the side. He hadn't realized how much they inched together during their conversation until her shoulder brushed his. The final blaze of the sun caught her cheekbones and shoulders, that summer tan the perfect shade. Despite the bruises, Spencer admired the slope of her nose, the way it framed her face so nicely.

He wanted to reach out and touch her, run his fingers along the curve of her jaw and trail them over the back of her neck. Through the bourbon and loneliness, he imagined his palm would fit nicely there, his thumb rubbing that sensitive spot behind her ear. Maybe she'd even close her eyes and sigh at the feeling.

She caught him staring, that gentle curve of her sweet smile reacting to his gaze. Spencer cleared his throat and chose to watch his drink instead. Maybe he should stop while he was ahead.

A call from the group later and they joined them around the bonfire. Honey sat next to Holly and Michelle, Collie and Augustín on her other side. Spencer would look up just in time to see Honey avert her gaze somewhere else, and he couldn't help but do the same each time she did as well.

Eventually someone brought out a guitar, someone else some cymbals. They passed it around, smoking, drinking, and eating and listening to a few songs. In between glances from Honey, Spencer spotted Rico watching them both with his brows furrowed. Spencer tried to stop after that, not wanting to ruin this burgeoning friendship with him, but it was as if his eyes were magnetized to her.

The soft glow of the firelight hugged her cheeks, illuminating her smile every time she laughed at something someone said. She clutched a water bottle tightly in her lap as she sat cross legged in a lawn chair. After the sun went down and the air cooled, she started rubbing her arms and scooting closer to the fire. If all of these people weren't around, he likely would have given her his flannel. It would look good on her.

Emily sat next to him, chatting easily with Mattie May and Rose. She was going to leave in the morning, so he tried to join in where he could, not wanting to waste this time with her. He'd missed her more than he cared to admit, but he glanced over again to catch Honey again quickly averting her eyes from him.

It was a good night of hanging out on the beach, and after a few drinks Spencer found himself comfortable enough to doze. It was strange for him to sleep in a public place. Even on cases, Spencer was restless and awake every hour or so, but with Emily by his side and a group of people who had been nothing but kind to him, he let himself release a bit of tension and fell asleep.

He woke up to a soft hand on his shoulder, sniffling hard and adjusting his tired eyes to the light. Honey kneeled in front of him with a gentle smile, rubbing her palm softly so as not to jolt him awake.

“What time is it?” he asked gruffly. He rubbed his face as she let out a soft chuckle. “Where’s Emily?”

“It’s about one in the morning, and she went to Collie’s with Rose, Mattie May and the De La Cruz’s,” she told him, but she didn’t pull away. The warmth from her hand bled through his shirt, his lonesome skin drinking in every drop of physical touch it could. “C’mon, I’ll take you back to the Inn.”

She held out her hand for him as she stood, and he let his palm slide over hers. He could have sworn her fingers squeezed his for a moment before letting go. Nobody else was around, instead they were off on different sections of the beach, leaving just him and Honey alone by the smothered fire.

"You don't have to leave the party if you don't want to," he said awkwardly, but she just shook her head.

"Everyone's pretty drunk and it's no fun being the sober one," she chuckled, then beckoned for him to follow. He did, and they made their way up the beach. By Spencer's memory he must have fallen asleep around ten, so three hours later he was pretty sobered up. His head hurt a little bit, but other than that he was fine.

The stars shone so brightly that if he reached up his hand Spencer swore he could grab one right out of the sky. The glittering blanket above stretched for miles, kissing the sea behind them. Even the lights from town couldn't drown them out.

"You can see everything out here," Spencer marveled as they walked. They weren't in a hurry, and the night was a nice temperature with the slight breeze, so they went about slowly. "The sky is so clear."

"You don't have that in DC?" Honey asked lightly. She still wore only her sports bra and shorts, her hands rubbing her arms to keep warm.

"There's too much light pollution," he said, shaking his head. Spencer found himself removing the velcro of his arm brace, letting his arm down slowly. Most of the pain was gone, the bruises the only thing left of the fight a few days ago. "It was like that where I grew up too."

She watched him idly as he tucked the brace under his armpit and shrugged off his flannel. He handed it to her without a word, and she slipped it on with a small smile. It nearly swallowed her shorter frame, coming just above her knees. Spencer regretted giving it to her. She was far too cute like that. He just wanted to pick her up and carry her home.

"Where did you grow up?"

"Las Vegas."

She made a pleased noise, “Ahh, so you know how to count cards?”

Spencer squinted her way, chuckling, “Yeah?”

“Good, keep that to yourself,” Honey told him seriously. “There’ll be a poker night one of these days and you and I will clean up.”

Spencer shook his head and laughed, and they walked the rest of the way mostly in silence. It wasn’t a long journey, just up the hill, but at night Spencer had to admit he would have had a harder time finding it than in the day.

He held the door open for Honey as they stepped into the Inn. The walk to his room felt shorter than before all of a sudden, almost unfairly. Honey's door to her apartment was right across from his, and she unlocked the door and pushed it open. Lingering in the doorway, she leaned against the frame. Spencer made no move for his own door, instead content just standing there watching her as she thought of what to say next.

"I'm glad you came out," she said after a bit, giving him another one of those soft smiles that made his chest hot. "And Emily. I like her."

"She likes you," he replied softly. "Thanks for inviting me. I had a good time."

"Good…" She trailed off, tapping the door frame absentmindedly. "Where do you think you'll go after this?"

"Probably Oregon," he said, "it's where I was going anyway."

Honey scoffed, "Oregon doesn't have anything on Thunderbird."

"Funny. That's what Nell said."

She squinted at him playfully, "That guy's crazy, you know."

"So are you."

Spencer was close enough to feel her body heat. His shirt hung open to show off her physique, toned and glistening in the dim light. He could even smell the sweat on her skin, those big eyes of hers watching him and waiting for his next move. Later he would blame it on the bourbon, but realistically Spencer knew he was sober. She just looked so damned good, and it had been so long. He wanted to feel her hands on his skin again, soft fingertips grazing up his back.

“I should give you this back,” Honey decided. She moved to slip the flannel from her shoulders, but Spencer's hands reached out, dropping the arm brace in the doorway.

“No,” he muttered, grabbing it by the lapels and pulling it back over her. Spencer tugged it closed, but he didn’t button it, instead holding it there with his hands as he looked down at her.

Honey swallowed thickly, her eyes hooded. She watched him through her lashes, so soft and sweet like that in his clothes… Spencer didn’t even realize he was stepping forward until her chest brushed against his sternum. His hand slid from the shirt to glide over her shoulder and up her neck, cupping her jaw in his palm. The other wrapped around her waist as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

Honey let out that sigh of relief he’d imagined as he kissed her, but in reality it was so much better than in his head. Her palms brushed their way up his chest until they wrapped around his neck. Her back arched as his thumb brushed her spine. Spencer flattened his palm to pull her hips flush with his.

She didn't fight him, didn't smack or yell like a part of him thought she might. She melted into his embrace, kissing him back fervently. Spencer's fingers tangled into her ponytail, giving a soft tug and pressing his tongue against her bottom lip, demanding entrance. Honey moaned breathily as she let him in, making his chest swell with desire. Her body molded to his as he pressed her against the doorframe, small and strong and pulling just as much as she pushed. She tasted like salt water taffy, a bit like citrus, and he wanted more.

The hand on her back slipped down over her ample backside, giving her ass a rough squeeze before making his way down behind her thigh. She read his mind, hopping up as he lifted her and shoved her inside. His shoulder ached from the strain, but his lonely mind ignored it. Spencer pushed her up against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, grinding himself against her clothed core.

His cock stirred in his pants, her soft moans only making him harder as they made out like horny teenagers. Her scent consumed him, making his head swim with lust. He hadn't been touched like this in so long, and hadn't been able to touch like this either. Spencer squeezed every part of her supple body he could, loving the way her soft skin molded to his hands.

Honey was growing restless, her strong thighs clenching around his waist for friction. Spencer's free hand wandered under the flannel she wore, palming her soft belly and slipping it up to her breasts. She gasped as he ran the pad of his thumb over her nipple through the thin fabric of the sports bra, making him smile in satisfaction against her lips.

He trailed kisses down her jaw to her neck, grazing his teeth along the sensitive flesh. Honey's hands tangled into his hair as he nipped and sucked a line to her collar bone, a shuddering whine escaping her kiss-bitten lips.

"Thanks for walking me back," Emily's voice came from down the hall, making them both still. "I don't know where Spencer got off to."

In a swift movement, Spencer pulled Honey further into the doorway. He shut the door softly, turning the handle so the latch didn't sound out their location. With his nose buried in her neck, they stood there catching their breaths as quietly as they could as the footsteps approached.

Spencer's heart pounded in his chest when he heard Rose's voice, "I'm sure he called it an early night. We kept him up late last night."

Spencer tore himself away from the taste of Honey's skin to look at her. She was watching the crack of the door, still holding tightly to him. Her lips were red and swollen, patches of blush and fresh bite marks littering her neck and chest.

He couldn't help himself, so he pressed his lips to her neck. Spencer kissed his way to her jugular, swiping his tongue over it before giving her a soft bite. She sucked in a sharp breath, whispering through gritted teeth, "Fuck…"

"He said he had a really good time. Thanks for taking him out," Emily told him just as they passed the door Honey and Spencer were sinfully hiding behind. "He deserves to have some fun."

Spencer didn't really want to listen to them talk, instead wanting to bury himself deep inside this girl and feel her shudder around him. He pulled her off the wall and turned to go up to the apartment, but she pinched him.

"The stairs creak," Honey warned him under her breath, so Spencer set her against the wall again and buried his face in her chest, letting out an irritated groan.

Honey chuckled and patted his hair, almost making his leg thump like a dog’s. Her nails grazed his scalp, earning a guttural happy grunt from him. Spencer kissed the tops of her breasts softly, making his way up to her jawline once more before capturing her lips with his.

He didn’t want to lose this momentum. He wanted to barrel toward release, and his mind swam with heady desire. Fuck, all he wanted was to listen to her make those sounds loud enough to crack the windows. She tried to hold back her noises as she kissed him back, but Spencer wanted to rip them from her over and over again… but Rose and Emily had other plans to ruin his night and his boner.

“Honey does too,” Rose muttered, but Honey heard it sure enough. They pulled slowly away from one another as he continued. “Since her husband died she’s just been… stuck. I’ve spent the last decade watching her be miserable and accepting no help.”

“Sounds like you have your own Spencer then,” Emily chuckled as Spencer and Honey had to look away from one another. “Maybe they’ll do one another some good.”

“Goodnight,” Rose said after a moment, and Emily returned it. Spencer listened until they heard the door shut and lock before turning back to her.

Honey swallowed thickly, but unlike before it was with anxiety instead of sexual tension. Her chest heaved, his moving in time. She let her hands fall from him and clenched them in front of her chest, so Spencer lowered her slowly to the floor.

She watched him with those wide eyes as her feet hit the ground, neither of them quite sure what to do. Rose and Emily unknowingly slammed them with a thousand pounds of pressure when ten minutes ago all they were thinking about was getting laid.

“I, uh, I should probably go,” Spencer muttered awkwardly as he took his hands off her tight unbelievably sexy body. “I’ve… been drinking. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Right,” she whispered back, but Spencer could tell it hurt her a bit by the way she looked to the left to avoid his gaze. “Thanks for… walking me home.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, even though she’d walked him back.

She tugged on the sleeve of the flannel. “Do you want this back?”

“No,” he told her again, gripping the lapels and pulling them closed over her scantily clad body. “Goodnight.”

Honey nodded and headed up the stairs without another word or a backward glance. Spencer waited for her to reach the top before heading back to his own room. He picked up the arm brace before opening her door and shutting it behind him. Spencer managed to get his sticky door open, quickly shutting it behind him.

Locking it, Spencer stood with his back against the hardwood, staring wide eyed at the sliding door. He could see people partying in the distance, but all the joy of the night dissipated with his hard-on.

“What the fuck did I just do?”

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Notes: I love how much of a soft hardass Emily can be... as for Spencer and Honey? Oh I want them to screw so badly right now but unfortunately we have to wait ;)

Also, have you guy listened to any of the songs that these chapters are inspired by? Which one is your favorite?

@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo @sebastiansstanswhore

@louderfortheback @pandabiiissh @calebye

@dottirose @lfaewrites @padsfirewhisky @wheels-upin-thirty @f-me-reid @justanothercmblog @academiareid @moyo5653 @comfybabie

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velvetcloxds · 6 months

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delivery failure- this is out there because I'm not sure if you watch this but what about love island! reader and love island!spencer, spencer and her have been friends since the start of the season but haven't admitted they like each other, spencer is not coupled up and reader's man cheated on her so they have a chat in the lover's nook or somewhere private and he comforts her

ooo bestie, BESTIE, I've not watched the show but I have played the game (obsessively = embarrassing) and when I tell you I was sooo intrigued by this- I want to write more asap xxx

"Hey you," Spencer was sort of chuffed that you'd noticed him so quickly even though he was trying to be subtle in checking up on you. You were sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, leaning over the sink to fill your water bottle.

"Hey you too," the smile he gave you was something you sure drove every girl on the other side of the screen wild, so genuine, so soft.

"I'm fine, Spencer, really," he might be the genius in the villa but he was very transparent, you'd seen him stealing little glances at you all throughout dinner as you desperately tried to avoid your partner's gaze. It also didn't help that he'd ask you at least five times if you'd be fine sleeping out on the daybeds alone. "I mean if anything I feel like I owe Derek and Savannah some credit, how they managed to spend the night together on there with all the bugs crawling in that bed is beyond me."

"I'm sorry," he was, truly he was, of all the people in the villa he was sure you deserved this less than anyone, you'd found them that morning, actually everyone found them, fast asleep in each other's arms, clothes scattered by the pool, the writers couldn't have made up something more scandalous if they tried.

"Don't be, it's part of the game, right?" you fiddled with the lid of your bottle, hoping you were more convincing than you felt but when Spencer took your hand in his you knew you weren't. The touch was odd, nervous, he was comforting you but that didn't mean you made him any less anxious than you usually did. "A guy like that, a girl like me, wouldn't work in the real world, don't know why I thought it would work in here."

"Don't say that, him cheating on you is on him, not you," he tugged at your fingers, forcing you to look away from your lap even though the other hand that he placed on your knee made you want to do anything but. "You deserve someone good, you know, someone who'd never even think of looking at someone else- he had you and he screwed it up, that makes him a fool."

"A fool, huh?" you squeezed his hand, smiling as he nodded earnestly. "Thank you for coming to check up on me, Spence."

"I just wanted to come to get a glass of water, actually," he was a terrible liar, awful actually he couldn't even look at you, and when you kissed his cheek so quickly that he wasn't even sure it happened he felt as though he was catching on fire, cheeks a deep shade of rosette.

"Thank you."

"Anytime. Really, I'll always be here for you," he meant it and when he finally worked up the courage to look at you again he was extremely proud of himself to find a sweet smile on your previously frowning lips.

#spencer reid #love island!spencer reid #love island!reader #criminal minds dialogues #dear alice dialogue event #monique's writing events #monique's dialogue days

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carpenoctxrn · 1 year

Text

Doctor. Doctor. (Spencer Reid x FemReader)

Chapter 9: Prove Myself

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You can find Chapter 8 here.

Previously

“..so gorgeous…” His whispered words made my own chaotic and quite anxious thoughts stop.

Snapping my eyes open I looked at him to see he was staring at my sleeping form.

“Did you say something?” I asked him, feigning my ears deaf to the words he had just spoken.

“The tree’s, they look gorgeous with the amber leaves and the dark night sky,” He spoke as he looked out to my side of the windshield.

Smiling, I looked out and agreed with him through a nod of my head.

He probably said amber leaves are gorgeous because of her hair.

That ugly jealousy came back into the pit of my stomach at my own thought. The feeling traveling up my stomach and latching itself painfully to my heart that I could feel breaking at the weight of the new feeling.

“Do you like amber leaves because they remind you of her?” I questioned him.

“I think I like amber leaves because they remind me of you.” He said with a smile back.

WARNING: Its cute, with a little dirty thoughts, light teasing, talk of trauma. Its just a chapter to focus on the relationship between you and Spencer.

Chapter 9: Pinus Taeda

He said those words as he looked at me. His face was graced with a smile but his eyes were laced with something much more intoxicating.

“Elaborate please?” I asked with a smile and tilt of my head to have a friendly and unbothered look to hide the pounding within my chest that numbed the sound of the car driving to my own ears.

“Well the pinus taeda also most commonly known as Loblolly Pine is an interesting tree to me. In nature it behaves much like a human. Its surroundings determine its growth physically, much like how your surroundings determine your emotion, Dr. Monterey, more than it impacts others.” He explained softly as we began to pull up to the apartment. His words shouldn't have held that much wisdom but for some reason it did.

My heart felt a weight lift itself from it as I smiled at him. His words sent jolts of peace and comfort through my body, warming it up. A positivity I felt myself resound with as I basked in the pleasure I felt. It was different. A sense of validation made itself known to my horny body.

“You see the world through a unique lens, Dr. Reid.” I spoke with a small chuckle as he parked the car right next to my spot.

“Hey you park next to me,” I said, amazed more at the idea his car parks next to me than the idea of how we went the car ride without discussing what happened in the grocery store.

“Yea from this spot I had calculated using pythagorean theorem with a little bit of trigonometry and studying the schematics of the apartments and parking structure that I purchased from the library, from there a little bit of math and some calculations for human error and I figured out that parking in this two spots were much efficient for if my purpose was to walk less. So in conclusion I have mathematically proven the walk from this parking space is shorter.” he spoke as he maneuvered his arm around the space of the car to gather things like my grocery bag, his wallet, keys, phone, and his jacket.

“Huh,” I said, getting his attention, “It just felt short enough for me.” The seriousness of my tone and the surprise on his face created a comedic atmosphere.

It wasn’t long until our faces were grinning like the cheshire cat as we laughed at the situation at hand. I laughed because of what had occurred in the past 4 or so hours; My crush on the man next to me, My past is coming back again, My stupid fling going all rough on me in a store, The creepo EMT.

I could feel my face turning red at the end of our minute or so long laughter session. The chiseled faced doctor next to me also had a red tint on his cheeks. Looking at the time that flashed on my phone from receiving the notifications from Phil I looked up into the warm hazel eyes of Spencer.

“Let’s go home?” I asked the statement in a question.

Receiving a smile and a nod from Spencer I grabbed my phone and purse, as I released myself the belt around my stomach and chest, ready to open the door outside a loud WAIT! came out from the man next to me.

Horrified, I looked at him, trying to understand the source of his abrupt scream. As my wide eyes and gaped mouth looked at him he leaned in. And the time around me stopped.

His body leaned closer and closer to me. Every inch he was closer to me I could feel the heat from him much more prominently. His scent was more prominent also. The light notes of salt were like a scent from the ocean, clashing against the sands. His musky sandalwood scent brought forth vivid images of when he was protective towards me a few minutes ago. His eyes were much darker to me now. His pupils dilated as his lips were dry, making him run his tongue over them. The entire situation at hand made it seem like to me that he was going to kiss me.

“A lady should never open her door.” He spoke with a smirk. A smirk on his face because of the look on my face.

Fuck his a tease. I bet he knew what I was thinking.

“For a second there I thought I might have to punch you,” I said with a smirk on my face and a surprised look on his, “because it’s rude to taste something that doesn’t belong to you.” I spoke as I stepped out of the car.

He was still in the car, staring at my back. Walking to the front of the car I turned my head to look at him. My hair that was now open covered my shoulders to provide a bit of warmth. The hair that framed the front of my face was blowing back softly in the small whispers of wind. I made eye contact with Spencer. He was staring back at me with a smile on his face. I nodded towards the building as if to say let's go inside and he got the hint as he began to step out the car.

“It’s also rude to keep a lady waiting in the cold,” I quipped back at him to make him flush red, but instead he just turned around to me as he opened the door to go inside the less cold building of our apartments.

“Good thing all I saw were pinus taeda,” He spoke as we walked towards the elevator.

“I never knew pinus taeda could be such a tease,” I said with a sly grin on my face as I stepped inside the open elevator door.

“It takes one pinus taeda to know another pinus taeda,” The tall man spoke back, teasing back with a sly grin on his face that matches mine. We held each other's gaze as the elevator door closed. The intensity of our gaze mixed in with the adrenaline and serotonin rushing through our body led into another laughter fest at the ding of the elevator closing.

“I’m glad we are getting to know each other,” sincerely the words left Spencer's mouth as he looked at me.

A lot of men have looked at me, but none could have the intensity that shadows over the orbs that belong to the doctor who towers over me so easily. His stare had left me breathless so many times over the past few hours that the entire encounter felt surreal. It felt fabricated as if it was too good to be true.

“Me too,” I replied back to him as I stared back at him, “I feel better knowing that if anyone breaks into my apartment there’ll be a Glock and a FBI agent available right next to me.” I joked at him.

“Actually, I own a SIG P239. It’s a semiautomatic pistol that has better accuracy when I am unable to factor in wind vector,” He spoke casually as we stepped off the elevator and made up the hallway towards our doors to our apartment, “Not to mention, concealment is easy.”

“Interesting,” I said as I listened to his words but my mind thought about something else.

His body was naked above his waist.

His muscles shone in the reflection of the light from some unknown source.

I wore something that made his skin stick to mine like honey against honey. Sitting in his lap. Grinding on his hard cock in between my thighs.

His skin, so slick with sweat that it coated him like a lubricant. Allowing the nozzle of the black gun to travel from his shoulder blade to his throat.

His hands aren’t tied but he feels so helpless under me. Yet his mouth was moving, like he was in control.

The lewd words that left his pink lips married perfectly amongst the sinful praises he said to me.

“And that’s how I realized that the safety lock on that Glock 22 was not really reliable.” Spencer ended as he stopped in front of my door.

“Huh, that’s a very unique story," I said not truly knowing what else to say as I paid no mind to his words. Just the fantasy that I had burned into my memory with hope that it would become true.

“I know when people pretend to listen to me,” He said as I opened the door to my apartment. Making me halt midstep of me entering the confines of my home. He was hurt as he looked at me and spoke his truth.

“I Am truly sorry for doing that, but in all honesty I was listening to you,” I said to him, pausing to take the bag of groceries from his hand before continuing with my words and my voyage inside the house, “ but I was also thinking of something else,” I said truthfully.

“Thinking of something else whilst staring at my lips?” He said with a tone that I knew he had a smirk on his face without looking at him.

“Would you like to know what I was thinking about, Doctor?” I spoke in a breathless manner as I turned to face him. He was still standing by the door, with one hand in his pants pockets and the other carrying my grocery just by his side.

My words made his eyebrows twitch a bit as his eyes focused on my body, trying to read what I was insinuating.

“I was thinking, how could a dashing young man like Dr. Spencer Reid, who has a woman like Dr. Maeve, not see what I saw,” I said as I dropped my grocery bag on my kitchen counter and sauntered back at him. I knew my smirk, my attitude, and the double meaning intention behind my words were catching him in my own net.

“Would you like to know what I saw Dr. Reid?” I questioned him as I made my way to him at the door. Standing so close in front of him. His eyes were blown with dilated pupils. His breath was caught in his throat. The anxiety from this situation was clearly getting to the man in front of me. I paused as I studied him. Watching his feet twitch a bit, his lips quiver slightly, and his breathing becoming subtly erratic. He was squirming in front of me, and he was trying his best to hide it.

Hide that in this moment I was in control. I wondered if he knew I could see through his little facade and knew what he knew.

I stared at him, waiting for him to break the ice that I layed and created between us. The awkward atmosphere that was making him fidget. I wanted to see how he’d reign control or even if he could.

“And what did you see, Doctor?” He questioned back in a voice low enough to be deep. A new tone of his words that should have been foreign to my ears but were instead familiar.

Looking up at him whilst biting my lips to stop myself from spilling a huge grin at my own “joke”, I stepped a bit closer to him. I got on my tip toys and leaned towards his shoulder. Making sure our bodies were not touching but close enough for it to be uncomfortable.

“Brassica Oleracea,” I said sweetly in a whispered tone. Making sure my breath hit his ears delicately to leave behind goosebumps. Stepping away from him, I observed the confused look he had on his face. It reminded me of someone thinking they knew the truth only for it to be known later to them a lie.

“Broccoli?” he questioned me as his eyes squinted, his mouth opened slightly, and his head tilted slightly towards the side. He stepped further inside my apartment as he closed the door behind him.

“Yea it was stuck in your teeth and before I could point it out you had already gotten to it,” I said casually as I motioned to my own teeth before turning my back to him as I walked to my kitchen area passing my couch and T.V.

I collected my loose open hair in a bundle with my own heads. Touching the threads of cold that was an extension of me, as I pulled my hair to the right side of my body. Baring my naked shoulder at the unsuspecting eyes of Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Did my answer really catch a profiler off guard?” I teased back the confused looking Doctor.

“Truthfully, yea a little bit,” He said with a serious tone. My mischievous smile that was on my faltered as I turned my entire body to face him as I slowly made my way to his figure by the couch. I began to fear that maybe I crossed a boundary or pushed him to a limit.

“It’s just when I first saw you, I didn’t expect you to,” he paused his words as he took a deep breath and sat on the couch. His eyes avoided mine as he fidgeted with his hands. He swallowed deeply, his Adam's apple bobbing painfully.

He became quiet as he fidgeted a bit. It had been a minute passed and he hadn’t said anything. I refused to move in fear of scaring him or making the present situation worse. Another minute passed, and so did another. At this point my skin was crawling with small ant-like jitters. My throat felt dry and my head felt slightly dizzy from standing straight up, as stiff as a board, for as long as I had.

“...didn’t expect me to?” I asked so softly that my own words were deaf to my ears.

“I didn't expect,” he said as he breathed out. His chest exaggerated from such a deep exhalation of air. His face fell on his hands that were placed on his thighs to keep his head up.

“Spencer,” I whimpered out his name. It was meant to come out a small whisper but the anxiety pounding through my body scared me to whimper out his name.

As his name leaves my lips he takes in a sharp inhalation of breath.

“...for you to be so much into Lord of The Ring. I mean the classical version is one thing but actually having a physical disk copy of the extended versions seems a bit too nerdy for someone like Dr. Y/N Monterey.” Smuggly Spoke Spencer.

He relished in the beads of sweat that made itself down my forehead, my wide eyes in anticipation, and my fidgety fingers fidgeting on my laps.

“That's big talk from someone who likes to sing along to despacito in broken Spanish,” I retorted back.

“YOU HEARD THAT!!??” screeched the now tall and red flushed man in front of me.

“Thin walls, Dr. Spencer,” I spoke as I made my way to the wall behind my T.V and Lord of the Rings collection, “Thin walls”, I concluded.

“It seems like we have materials that would destroy both of our reputation,” He joked. He clearly knew neither me or him cared for what others thought but to pretend we did was a bit exhilarating. The idea that a dirty secret could ruin us made me realize how much I would love for a dirty secret to be between us.

“Then let's keep it a secret,” I whispered as I imagined the only secret we would keep between us is how we taste.

“Anyways, I’m gonna go turn in the paperwork for the accident,” He said as a goodbye as he turned around to walk out.

“WAIT!” I said suddenly as I grabbed his hands. His soft but hard hands was warm and huge in comparison to mine.

“Sorry, sorry,” I said breathlessly as I remembered he had a thing against hands touching his. I quickly grabbed the bottle of sanitizer from my T.V and offered him some. He looked at me with a quirked eyebrow and stared between me and the sanitizer.

“I’m fine, why’d you stop me?” He said in the same breath.

“Paperwork for what accident?” I asked him softly. The mere thought of being involved with the police just brought back a form of phobia that I had always hid. Many times I believed that I am a good citizen because of the anxiety I would feel being close to blue uniformed humans. If I was a normal human being with no trauma associated with the police, I would have been a stone cold criminal by now. Or at least I choose to believe so.

“Don’t worry, I'll handle everything so that legally all you’ll need to provide is a signature.” He said comfortingly. His eyes were starting to become my own fascination. They held emotions so foreign yet so familiar that the only way to describe what it made me feel was captivated.

“Please don’t be so kind to me Doctor Reid,” I whispered as I looked up at him, “it makes it harder for me to expose your slow little secret.” I joked at him. Hating the seriousness created from the first sentence I uttered.

He just smiled at my words and walked out the door as I followed behind him. As he stood outside his door, he paused a moment before entering his own abode.

“Be safe,” He spoke kindly before he stepped in. I Just closed my door and pondered.

I felt content but I also felt deeply confused. I have had crushes in highschool and their basis was the same as it is now. I would see someone and something about them would attract me. I remember Ryan Reigns from 8th grade was kinda like my first crush. I had barely spoken to him but I had a crush on throughout 8th till 12th grade. What attracted me to him was that he was always quiet. It made me wonder a lot about him, and soon he became my crush.

With Spencer I am attracted to his physical being because that is what I have observed the most in the past hours. His tall towering height, his moss colored iris, his curly hair, his stubble cheeks, and his arms. Oh lord does his arm make me want to be entrapped within them as I could feel him behind. But the way we joked in the car, the way he protected me in the grocery store, the way he could mimic my psychological jokes. It made me harder not to be entranced by his being.

Was it wrong? Yes, he had a girlfriend who it looks like is someday going to be his wife. And here I am, fantasizing about him. I want to say that this will start as a silly crush and end as one, but the truth is I fear that it will end in a heartbreak.

A/N: Yo so like if this is tmi but a cornhub audio artist named RedBOxVO came out with the most cutest and fluffiest but also dirty dirty audio, and I am planning on writing a scene inspired from that audio.

Another note is that a bunch of like bot scam woman who have pics in their lingerie are becoming my followers so shoutout to the humans who follow me. I appreciate your interest in my work!

Also college started for me and its making me a clown at how much I am juggling.

Taglist:

@hopelessromantichopefulthinking @lovemesickly @liidiaaag @kodakmack @strangerintheblur @fairydresses @ohnojessicaa @ohnojessica @savi-02 @chaoticevilbakugo @winkev1 @fx666x @fall-myriad @volatile-violet @yourfavoritefangirl @hellooitsrose @ilovereid21

#Spencer reid x reader #spencer reid xreader #Dr. spencer reid x reader #Dr. spencer reid xreader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x y/n smut #Spencer reid x female #Criminal Minds #Dr. spencer reid x reader smut #Spencer reid smut.

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handicappedbuenchico · 1 year

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Name: Caitlin-Ashley

Pronouns: She/Her

Preference of communication: Tumblr IM's. Those are 10x more reliable in terms of me seeing them, in comparison to Discord, for some reason.

Most active muse: Spencer.

Experience / how many years: I've been roleplaying for about 8 years now! It's been an on-and-off thing really.

Platforms you use: I use both Tumblr and Discord!

Best experience: Meeting @petpsycho for the very first time, roleplaying John and Carlos's first interaction based off of a meme I sent in, and having Carlos and John fuck at damn near 100 notes in. Truly the best experience because it was not only one of my first, but Mina has been an amazing person to talk to and write with.

Rp pet peeves:

Those group/town/app/appless Discord rp types, that don't even do it on Tumblr from what I can tell, spamming their promo so much in the rp tags to the point where they drown out literally anyone else's. I'm not looking to join a fucking off-platform group to rp in a generic town, I'm looking for singular people to write with ON TUMBLR. STOP SPAMMING YOUR SHIT FOR FUCK'S SAKE! That's what bumping on Disboard is for.

Personal blogs that aren't connected to roleplay ones in any way spam liking my roleplay related shit. Like, I can understand if it's like a meta or a headcanon, but personals (that aren't connected to a roleplay blog) liking my starter calls and my promos are a completely different story. PLEASE DON'T FUCKING DO THAT IF YOU ARE NOT A ROLEPLAYER IN ANY CAPACITY. That goes for reblogging too honestly, like don't reblog my roleplaying material/threads either if you aren't actively involved with it/didn't get my permission to do so.

Formatting that is hard to read. Now, I'm not talking about colored text or small text or anything like that. I'm talking about the formatting that looks like either a pure wall of text, or there are so many paragraph breaks that I have to physically drag a reply into Google Docs to "fix it" for my brain. Full disclosure, I am autistic (an Aspie to be specific), and sometimes my brain has trouble with reading comprehension on normal formatted text. Now imagine my brain when trying to read something with either NO paragraph breaks, OR paragraph breaks after every single sentence. It's not fun, and it makes me want to write with you less and less.

I apologize in advance if anyone feels called out by these, as I'm sure you didn't want to hear this from me in this manner. I am polite and nice to a fault, and I fear judgement/being reprimanded due to my own RL trauma, so I was too anxious to tell you personally.

Fluff, angst, or smut: I would like some Fluff with a side of Smut, you can also put a dash of angst on that if it will enhance the thread's flavor.

Plots or memes: Oh I am mostly a meme person, but if I find/think of a plot that our muses can do, you best believe I'm coming into your DM's and tell you about it.

Long or short replies: Depends on my muse, the time that I have at any given moment, my need to stim, and sometimes the thread itself. On a day where I have a lot of muse and a full day to myself, I can do longer replies, like a couple of long paragraphs. On days where I have little muse and or not a lot of time to spare, I tend to write smaller replies.

Best time to write: If I said any other time of day than between 8 PM - 12 AM I would be lying to you all. Writing at night right before you crash just hits different.

Are you like your muses: Y E S.

Carlos has my fear of punishment/being judged. Along with that, he and I sharing being a people-pleaser/peacemaker type of person, due to having it forced upon us by the adults around us that should fucking know how to act right. We both also grew up poor due to circumstances we couldn't control.

Now, Spencer, you wouldn't think I'd share any similarities with, but you would be very wrong. Spencer and I share a sensitivity to touch, but we both also like to touch anything/anyone we see (not in a creepy/perverted way, I'm talking like hugs and shoulder pats or something like that.) We're both also gay as fuck, and we're neuro-divergent (I'm autistic with an anxiety disorder and he has ADHD with Generalized Anxiety Disorder). We both also got daddy issues, so uh, there's that too.

Ted Lockwood is just my experiences as an autistic person incarnate LMFAO. Bro like, we're both nice to everyone, including people who probably don't deserve it. He and I both are socially awkward sometimes, and we can't read a room sometimes to save our damn lives (literally in Ted's case). We both have our own little special interests, his is engineering and space and mine is art and writing.

Crybaby as a character was someone I could relate to on an emotional level. I was saying for many years that my dysfunctional family almost fit Dollhouse to A FUCKING TEE! I also related the song Crybaby because I too was a very emotional little girl who got made fun and taken advantage of for it. I related to all of Crybaby's failed attempts at love in songs such as Carousel, Soap, and Training Wheels. Out of all my muses, Crybaby is the most like me because I already related to her long before I would even take her up as a muse.

Tagged by: @kurtzbergsiblings

Tagging: @bctclgevse @betterto-die-thanto-crawl @bamsidsuperbitch @scribedhorror @depictedblue @depictedmorada and anyone else who wants to!

#ooc 💭i'm awake now💭#dashboard games

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sellieellie · 2 years

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hey guys. since i’m sure everyone is dying for an update on how i’m doing here it is.

i gave myself a few days to feel. a few days to mourn over what could have been. and i tried so hard to act normal over those few days but it was really difficult if i’m being completely honest.

side note: as i was reflecting, i’ve realized that this is the first time since childhood that i’ve allowed myself to fully feel and be dramatic about something. my whole life i feel like i’ve been trying to take the sidelines because, as the youngest child in a broken family, i wanted to be at the same stage as my older siblings which caused me to grow up at the same rate as them. so, after maturing, i didn’t really make things a big deal anymore because other people in my family were doing that and i didn’t want to take away from their feelings. so, i hid my own to allow them the space they needed in order to process their emotions. however, with the spencer situation, my family was not involved and my friend group made sure to tell me that whatever i was feeling was normal and i could always talk to them. so i fully allowed myself to be dramatic with this and i think that’s part of why it hurt so bad. because i was also simultaneously healing a part of myself that said i had to keep quiet about it.

anyways, over the weekend i went to visit my oldest sister, i’ll call her alex. we’ll call my middle sister tessa. so, tessa and i went to visit alex and her boyfriend and we had a pretty fun weekend. alex’s boyfriend, we’ll call him logan, is like a brother so it was a pretty good weekend. however, i told alex and logan about the situation because they didn’t know about it and alex didn’t really seem to understand. logan kept checking up on me throughout the weekend because he could tell that something was off, which i appreciated.

now, on to my feelings. after doing some more reflecting, i’ve realized that i was sad and anxious about more than just spencer. i’m also just anxious about college and moving away from friends and family and i miss my friends constantly because i’m not going to college with any of them. i think i’m also mourning the loss of what could have been but also the loss of what i’ve always wanted. i’ve always been a hopeless romantic and i just got so excited to have someone to give my love to, only for him to leave the second that things got a little more intimate. i’m just in a hard time right now and spencer opened up a wound that i was not ready to deal with, so now i’m just bleeding freely.

during the day, things are okay. although i do often find my mind drifting to him, which reminds me that i need to stay present and try to participate in my conversations. at night, things get a little more rough. i always find myself wishing that i had him with me to cuddle and talk to. not only this, but my mind often drifts and i can’t stop thinking about our final moments before he decided to tell me that it wasn’t gonna work. i know that he said it was because we were going to different colleges, but i still can’t help but feel like i did something that morning when we were cuddling that was the final straw for him, that made him not want to work things out with me. i keep wondering why i wasn’t enough for him. or maybe i was too much. it’s hard to tell. and i’m trying so hard not to spiral into that place but sometimes when i’m sleeping it’s too hard not to.

he keeps showing up in my dreams too which makes things even harder. especially when i know he doesn’t think about me nearly as much as i think about him. i wonder if he’s even thought about me since the last time we saw each other. probably not. and that’s so painful because i’ve thought about him everyday for the past month and a half. it just sucks. because my feelings are never reciprocated. it literally would have hurt less if he never showed interest in me because then i would have never gotten my hopes up and i would know that he didn’t like me.

idk. i think i should stop before i start spiraling again. overall, i’m doing better than i was a week ago. i’m not fully perfect but i feel like i’m over the hump and i’ve dealt with the difficult stuff. i just wish i could talk to him and ask him what was going through his mind during all of it so i could get closure. because i keep picking myself apart wondering what i could have done differently to get him to stay. even though i shouldn’t be thinking about that.

the thing is, this guy isn’t even all that. he’s a former weird kid that cut and bleached his hair and started doing drugs and got a motorcycle and for some reason i like him. so much. and i’m not even sure why. i keep trying to remind myself that he isn’t all that, he’s just a guy. but he’s not just a guy to me. but i won’t get into all of his good qualities right now because that will make things really hurt.

back to my overall, i’m tearing myself up about it still, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as it used to so i’m able to internalize it more. my friends haven’t heard his name in days because i’m not really talking about him anymore to them. i’m just trying to forget about it but i’m still in a stage of wondering what i did wrong. but again, i’m trying not to wonder that because i’m not sure if i’ll ever get an answer. but i am doing better than i was. i am. and i will try to fully heal from it soon.

p.s. everyone is telling me to go after connor but i’m not sure if i will. i would at least need to talk to and clear things up with spencer before doing anything with connor because i would feel guilty because they’re such good friends. but connor and i are both so shy, i don’t think anything would happen. but i’m not gonna completely cut off the possibility. i’m open to it.

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relatablyreid · 5 years

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Breaking Boundaries - LA & SR

Even if this suggestion had sat on his mind for the past month that he’d known his collegue Spencer, didn’t mean he wanted to act on it. To ask out Spencer, even within the building would be weird because on public work grounds he’s looking for love or even a one night exclusive with his work partner. If he asks for his number, he’ll be asked why. Asking Garcia to quite literally confidentially slip it to him isn’t as sly as he desires because then on a need to know basis, he’ll have to explain himself to her. No one around would he be able to ask for advice on the pressing matter because everyone in the Behavioral Analysis Unit would pry, and that’s not only because of their internal curiosity but more so because that’s their job and how they make money. It also wouldn’t be something to let slid under the door when the newbie is asking for information on a long timer of the unit, suspiciously so. Today’s self set mission was to figure out the simplest and easiest way to ask his current work partner, and friend to go out with him to a little restaurant near his own home. Why? Probably because the only thing he ever really smiled at was making others smile, but Spencer’s was one he longed to see again and more often. So as he sat in his box within the bullpen, he scribbled ideas on his yellow standard notepad and hoped no one was looking over his shoulder. It didn’t seem like they would though, deep in argument over some of Cher’s best music. One voice he hadn’t heard speak up too much was his daydream partner Spencer, and he didn’t know where to assume he’d been. Possibly filling out his paperwork, then, considering socially popular music and media didn’t interest him too much. He knew so much about Spencer, and he just wished he could share it to him or tell someone. He had to go somewhere. All this nervous energy, all these bad memories behind his anticipation was killing him. It seemed like it was creating real pressure up in his forehead and-

“Luke? Are you alright?” Spencer asked, and he had been concerningly looking down at his face. It seemed as though if the nature was meant to be mocking to Luke, as if he was rising from the floor in the playground. There he was again, on the the concrete as his nose bled as rapidly as it was onto the cold under his rear end. People were staring, it wasn’t just Spencer. He was being pointed at, and laughed at. Faintly the taunting was audible to him, the random and sporadic way the others were throwing around the words ‘loser’ and ‘faggot’ at him. It was bleeding right into the scene, all around Spencer. Frozen in the scene, Luke stared at Spencer and practically gawked.

“Something’s wrong with him.” Spencer said softly, and he turned his head and looked around. “JJ! Something’s wrong with Luke!” Spencer shouted, and he kept an eye on the man in the chair. This accidentally brought attention to Luke from Prentiss and Rossi. There was now an unintentionally formed crowd around him.

To Luke, it looked so bizarre. His collegues and other students from his classes yelling cuss words at him and rude slang for what they presumed he would fit in regards to common social grouping and clique terms. On the random punch thrown to his face in his flashback, he snaps out of it all.

“I’m not a faggot, I’m not, I-I, just leave me alone please, I’m not a fag, I..” Luke blinked a bit then furiously rubbed at his eyes and then cupped his ears a moment to stop the repeating and echoing of his childhood trauma on the park grounds. “I’m not, I’ll be back, I’m just..” Luke failed to fix what possible mess he’d just made now. “Sorry.” Standing promptly, he made his way to the bahroom. He had a lot to explain and nowhere near any reasonable explanations. The only one he knew was a logical and acceptable explanation or excuse to use to defend his very recent actions would be to tell the truth. Yet, this wasn’t exactly something he’d felt the most comfortable with sharing to all of his collegues. It wasn’t something he’d like to have to say in front of Spencer, that’s for sure. Embarrass himself right in front of his first true love interest, and then probably never fully have a real conversation the same way again afterwards. He made his slow feet take steps towards the main sink in the bathroom, and he turned the cool water on. If he’s being completely honest, this began about two nights ago when in the comfort and as presumed safety of his home, he had fallen asleep on the couch watching some sort of animal planet video and he had woken up shaking and crying over his nightmare. Not necessarily how he’d planned for his evening to go, but certainly and depressingly how it’d ended. He hadn’t even been able to process the possibility of attempting to go back to sleep after that dream. As neatly as possible, he splashed at his face with water right over the sink. Then reached for the towels to dry his dampened face. He needed to talk to someone, he wanted to talk to someone about this. He stared down at his now half dry hands and he sighed. The trip back to the bullpen would be weird, because of what he damn near practically yelled to the whole room.

“Prentiss? How much spanish would you say you know?” Was the first thing he was able to ask once he stepped back into the room beside her and the group. The goal was to get himself in the room alone with Prentiss, in order to confide in her and then make his way back to his desk to sit alone. He intended upon just focusing on her until he got to talk to her, and relax.

“Suficiente para hablar. Que esta mal. ¿Mi oficina o fuera?” Prentiss replied, and Luke raised a brow.* Reminded him to never take the abilities of his little behavioral analysis family for granted.

“Sí, señora, ¿podemos ir a la oficina? Fuera de los libros. Por favor.” Luke requested, and he cleared his throat a bit.* She lead the way right into her room as the other agents glanced around beyond unknowledgable to what sort of route the conversation had taken. All that way easy to read was the yes, and office. On easy assumptions and putting two and two together, you could tell why they’d walked away.

Once he stepped inside the office and heard the door finalize the choice, he exhaled. Now he had to speak his peace, prove his sanity and hope Prentiss didn’t kick him off the team or have him turn his badge and gun in to take a trip of his own to the psychiatric ward down the block.

“Speak fast, they think you’ve really lost it, Luke.” Prentiss suggested, and she sat down at her desk. “Contrary to that popularly believed assumption, I don’t think so though. Speak fast if you’re guilty.”

“I had a flashback.” Luke was fragmenting to prevent throwing himself back into a whirlwind of traumatic memories and terror. It separated who he was talking to now from something that happened in the past. It helped him lay things out in reality as they were and are, not as one lump together.

“Flashback about what? Was it from your time in the Army?” Prentiss asked, making sure she thoroughly got the truth. He wasn’t one to lie and that she knew, but she didn’t know why her teammate had yelled an offensive slang word for homosexual at the top of his lungs in the middle of the professional workspace also known as the bullpen. She doubted that any of that had been for fun.

“When I was a kid. Not from the army.” Luke cleared his throat again, and he kept his eyes from nearing Emily’s desk or belongings. He didn’t want to have to face her after that, afraid that she was feeling embarrassed or ashamed.

“What happened in the flashback?” Emily had to pry a bit more to get the lid of this coffin open.

“Haz las preguntas más sí y no, por favor.“ Luke urged of her, hoping she would apply it so that he could have an easier time answering. “Hasta que me sienta cómodo. Por favor.”*

“Of course. Did you get yelled at in the flashback?” Emily had been narrowing it now, on request of Luke. She just wanted him to feel comfortable for now so she could piece together what just really happened.

“Yes, a lot.” Luke mumbled, realizing how shameful he ought to be for sharing this story with his boss and teammate. Someone he’d have to see on the daily for quite a long time after this.

“By who? Was it by your parents?” Emily thought for a moment that it could have been his parents due to how little he’d ever spoken about them.

“No, by all my classmates.” Luke began to anxiously bounce his left foot on the toes. It didn’t make his shoes obnoxiously squeak when he did so.

“How many kids, Luke?” Emily wanted to understand if it was the crowding of them all that scared him.

“Twenty two.” His eyes glanced around the room a bit scaling upwards in sense of direction. Vertical and right to left, but also from the floor to the ceiling and passing back and forth between Emily a few times. She didn’t look mad. In fact, she looked so gentle that it was incredibly hard to believe.

“What were they yelling?” Maybe they were the ones calling him a faggot. For kids to yell such obscenities to another child made a lot more sense.

“F-Faggot. I held hands with Ethan when I wanted to go to get lunch.” Luke confessed, and he bit his bottom lip briefly and let it slide through his teeth to be free again.

“Now you don’t have to answer, but has this happened again recently in a different yet still root wise similar form?” Emily had to be careful not to break the gained comfortability that Luke built up for the conversation.

“I want to ask someone on a date. My head doesn’t allow me to try, because it’s not right. I’ve been taught that it’s not. I’m not allowed to like him the way I do.” Luke chopped the sentences so he didn’t cry that time around. It was hard to keep a neutral to calmer facial expression when talking about something like that.

“You can love whoever you want, nobody set any rules against it. No one here in the BAU will judge you, Luke.” Emily tried to help out Luke, assure him in ways that a mother would. “Is there more to the flashback?”

“Yes. It’s stupid, though.” Luke’s eyes flashed up at Emily’s to see if she was still calm or reassuring. He didn’t want to upset her, because then he knew that he would be panicking.

“Nothing you say is stupid, Luke. If you didn’t share your feelings or opinions as they come most of the time, then we wouldn’t have saved as many people as we have.” Emily tried to praise him, hoping to coax the rest of the situation out of him but also make sure he knew he was heard and often times a valid component to the conversation.

“I got punched. Went home, my mother didn’t like it either, said I may have deserved it after all.” Luke had admitted to the most heartbreaking part of his story, and he teared up a bit. “I deserved it. It’s not right for me to like boys.” He repeated, as if he was reminding himself now.

“Luke, I hope you know that it’s really common nowadays for people to like the same sex or the same and the opposite. I also want you to know how legally and truthfully non-judgemental the bureau is. If anyone and I mean anyone in our unit decided to treat you different for whatever reason it may be, I’d certainly take care of it. It’s not a sin, or a crime, Luke. You know this. Love is love, and it’s not under your choice or mine. You love whoever it is you do, and that’s perfectly fine by me and the rest of the team. I shouldn’t be saying this regardless of it being off the books or not, but I like girls and I like guys. It’s like how the body is full of water, it-it’s just a part of me. Doesn’t make me bad, or a sinner.” Emily spoke from her heart, truly understanding and just trying to console the man beside her. No one really deserved to feel guilty for the one they decide to love, or date, whatever it may be. Girl, guy or anything in between, it wasn’t her place to judge. As long as the relationship was healthy, she couldn’t care less as to who Luke would prefer dating.

“Thank you, thank you really, Emily.” Luke swallowed his saliva and he cleared his throat a bit. “Thank you. I’m going to go back to my desk. I’m sure you can say something, not too uh, revealing.” Luke nodded a bit, standing and making his way to the door.

“Should I say it was a prompted panic attack, or prompted anxiety attack?” Emily asked before Luke had opened the door. “Puedo mentir, confia en mi Cualquier cosa por su seguridad y confianza.”* In hopes to keep him assured that this was off the books, not for anyone beside the two of them to know.

“Uhm, whichever will bring the least amount of questions. Graciás, señora.” Luke gives a small wave and a small smile to the woman before he makes his way to his desk. He did feel better, surprisingly so. He’d never really spoken about deep rooted traumatic events like that before, not with anyone.

Sitting down at his desk, he flips through and tries to file out his paperwork so that towards the end of his day, he’ll have twenty minutes of free time to use to his advantage. He planned on using that time to just ask the question. If not now, then truly never. No shame was supposed to be behind it, he had to remind himself. No shame behind who he loved, and no shame behind who’s hand he wanted to hold.

After finishing up his last folder, he closed it slowly and he let out a long sigh. Reassuring himself would take a quarter of the time he had out of the twenty minutes, but it’d make this a lot smoother.

Successfully, he makes his way over to Spencer’s corner and he knocks on the framing of it to the right side of the squared off office.

“Hey, Luke. How are you feeling? Emily told me it was a small anxiety attack, but I mean, it looked much like that of a different sort of panic attack. It looked like you were seeing a flashback, and you looked quite upset so I’m assuming it’s safely none of my business but I figured I’d check on you around now anyways.” Spencer had rambled slightly so, not having anyone to talk to for the past thirty minutes.

“I’m alright Spence. I’ll be okay. I got a real serious question for you, okay?” Luke set himself up perfectly now. All he had to do was spit it out.

“Anything. Anything at all, I’ll hope I know the answer to it and try to help you if I can.” Spencer turned to face Luke, except he didn’t have the strength to look him in the eyes directly or consistently.

“Do.. you want to go on a date with me? I was thinking that I could possibly make you some sort of food, I’m not too awful with a skillet and some veggies and noodles. If you don’t like pad thai, then I could always take you to a restaurant in town somewhere. Anywhere you like, really.” Luke finally found the courage and pushed the words out, and topped it with a smile. He had tried his best to look like he wasn’t sort of stressed for an answer.

“Pad thai is alright, I like it with the sweeter soy marinade rather than a soy sauce. I’ll pick some up on my way over there. If you send me your address now, I can rush home and get on something nicer to wear and then pick up a marinade, and be there for eight.” Spencer hadn’t said no. He didn’t disagree, or yell, or hurt him. In fact, he didn’t seem opposed to the idea in even the slightest aspect of things.

“You mean yes? As in yes, you’ll go on a date with me?” Luke asked, and he looked at Spencer in awe. Both of their faces coated in a bright red color, the excitement and realization of what was happening had filled their cheeks nicely with blush.

From her office, Emily had carefully peered through the slit of the blinds to spectate her collegues, brimming eyes over Spencer and Luke. Smiling, she realized who exactly Luke had mentioned when he spoke about liking someone and wanting to ask them out for a date. It was Spencer. Someone reasonable to be anxious towards asking out, in Emily’s personal opinion.

“Yes, Luke Alvez. I’d be pleased to go on a date with you.” Spencer smiled, and he looked up at Luke and into his eyes for a moment. The way his eyes expressed how joyful he was had filled Spencer’s heart, and he smiled a bit brighter just realizing how happy he’d made Luke. He decided to even add to the enjoyment. “Do you want to walk out, together?” He asked, a bit anxious because he was generally scared but newer to the romantic scene than he’d realized.

“Oh, sure, that’ll be cool, that, yeah! Alright!” Much like a school boy would, Luke stammered about as he basked in his excitement and overhwelming positive shock. He went to his desk and grabbed his bag, placing his pens in there and he flipped the overhang cover back where it did it’s job. He closed his drawers all the same, and moved his chair in once he was done. Then ripped out the yellow notebook page he’d used to write about how was going to ask Spencer out. It was all his braindumping, all his sorting out.

Little did he know, he wouldn’t have needed it anyways. Spencer planned on saying yes no matter how the event was presented to him.

Beside Spencer now and leading towards the exit, after holding open the front doors, he’d offered his hand to Spencer. “I’ll save you the fare and drop you home.”

Spencer smiled at the gentle offer, and he took Luke’s hand and nodded. “Two fifty isn’t much, but it is two fifty saved for this evening.” He was very happy to feel Luke’s thumb rubbing small circles into the back of Spencer’s hand. It put stars around his head and had him mentally drooling over how sweet and kind Luke was. It was exactly as he’d expect for Luke. It was perfect for the moment, and it was going to be even nicer to seem him relaxed and in a better mood for tonight. Luke probably didn’t know it, but Spencer adored his smile just as spassionately.

————————

* Emily says; Sufficiently enough to talk. Not too bad. My office or outside?

* Luke says; Yes ma’am, can we go to your office? Off the books, please.

* Luke requests; Ask me questions that are yes and no, please. It will help me feel comfortable. Please.

* Emily assures; I can lie, trust me. Anything for your safety and trust.

#luke alvez #spencer reid #ralvez #this one i wrote to show a more anxious side to luke #and a less anxious side to spencer #something more open to new ideas

19 notes · View notes

sinfulspencer · 2 years

Text

Lost in translation.

Prompt: Y/N is drunk. Spencer is trying to take her home safely.

A love confession might happen... but not in English.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Rating: fluff (sfw)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and throwing up, drunk kisses, love confession

Words: 5.5k

A.N: Y/N is not Italian but she knows how to speak the language. I had this idea in mind for so long because it’s just too cute – in my opinion, at least.

Hope you like it. x

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Maybe I had too many drinks, but that’s just what I needed

I hope that you don’t think that I’m saying sounds conceited

When I look across the room and you’re staring right back at me

Like somebody told a joke and we’re the only ones laughin’

“Nope, that’s enough for me. – whispers Y/N, pushing the wine bottle away from her – I had too much to drink, I don’t want to spend the rest of the weekend puking my brains out.”

Spencer chuckles along with her, taking the last sip of his glass of white wine.

He knows he’s not that drunk, his hands are still steady and his mind is not as hazy as it should be when he’s drunk, so he knows he’s not intoxicated. He’s just a little bit dizzy, his mind is flowing and his body is moving to the rhythm of the music playing through the speakers right behind the table he’s occupying with Y/N, Jennifer, Luke and Emily.

Penelope is on the other side of the bar, trying to convince a guy to buy her another drink just with her charm – and she’s actually succeeding, because Spencer sees the man opening his wallet and paying for something.

Then... drink after drink, everyone starts to feel the fumes of the alcohol.

Y/N is completely wasted.

She gets drunk very easily, probably because she drinks only when she’s in the mood – so almost never, because she doesn’t like the aftertaste of the alcohol, and the consequences of a horrible hangover. After New Year’s Eve’s party, Y/N swore on her life she wouldn’t get as drunk as it happened that night because she spent the next two days after the party hugging the toilet and vomiting everything she could.

But tonight she was in the mood and, accepting Luke’s challenge, she got drunk on shots of tequila.

Spencer has never seen her laugh like this, act like this but he likes this new side of Y/N. She’s much more playful and she’s a tease, which is why Spencer is trying to stay away from her. She is a very dangerous woman, especially when she’s drunk because she tends to touch him a little too much – not that he minds, of course. Spencer loves receiving hugs and kisses from Y/N, but he simply doesn’t want to risk getting hard in the middle of a bar just because Y/N kept grinding on him.

Sure, Spencer knows that alcohol is a disinhibitor – which means it suppresses inhibitions in your brain, leaving you more impulsive, less anxious and less restricted. It amplifies certain personality traits, such as amiability and aggression, but typically won’t create a 180 degree change. Y/N has always been a very friendly person, the kind of woman that immediately jumps next to you and offers you a drink if she wants to get to know you – which is exactly what she’s doing now, tapping Spencer’s thighs and gently pushing her free hand on his chest.

She has a sheepish smile on her lips and she’s looking at him, moving her head to the rhythm of the music as a heat spreads over her cheeks. Spencer doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol running through his bloodstream that shows him a whole different image of Y/N than his sober’s, but he finds her incredibly attractive.

Y/N is beautiful, Spencer can’t deny it, but tonight she’s more gorgeous than usual. He doesn’t know if it’s because she’s wearing make up or because he couldn’t take his eyes off her for the whole night, with just one thought in mind – going home with her – but still.

Spencer is enchanted by her.

“You have the prettiest lips I’ve ever seen. – whispers Y/N, her right hand lifting and her thumb brushing over his bottom lip – I bet you taste like butter cream.”

“Try and see for yourself” – Spencer yells in his mind, his right hand immediately resting on her back before sliding it back down to her hip. He doesn’t know if he should make a move on her right now, mainly because he’s terrified he might forget everything tomorrow morning and create a very awkward situation with her, but Y/N doesn’t seem phased by anything right now but it’s probably the alcohol, making her act as if she’s interested in Spencer. That’s upsetting, because he is interested in her and he knows he won’t be able to make a move on her if he’s sober.

He knows he can get the ladies – Morgan has always told him that (and if he added a name like “Y/N” instead of “ladies”, it’s just a detail no one needs to know about), but that is beside the point. It’s difficult for Spencer to actually tell her about how he truly feels about her.

He tried to talk to her about it a couple of times, but those words couldn’t come out of his mouth – they were stuck in his throat and he ended up telling Y/N he simply had a crush on someone. She was excited for him and she wanted to know who this person was, but Spencer couldn’t bring himself to spit out her name once and for all. So he brushed it off, saying it doesn’t matter and he’ll get over it.

“Maybe it’s better if we get you home, Y/N. – says Spencer, widening his eyes when she sits right on his thighs with her right arm now wrapped around his neck – Hey, what are you doing?”

Maybe this is getting a little bit out of hand.

Spencer thought he’d feel extremely uncomfortable with having her on his body, but he’s actually finding this closeness very comforting. The way her body is just delicately pressed against him, her perfect curves pressing over his chest and how her mouth is brushing against his stubble before travelling back down on his neck. Spencer should feel extremely uncomfortable just because they’ve never been so close before – sure, they slept together a couple of times during cases, but they’ve never been as close as this moment.

She shrugs, leaning her head against his so their foreheads are pressed against each other. “I just really like your eyes, you know? They’re brownish, kinda greenish. Or maybe they’re not, maybe it’s just the lightning in this place. Still, they’re very pretty.”

His heart jumps in his chest and something warm spreads through his body, because Y/N just gave him two compliments. It’s not the first time she tells him he’s pretty or she appreciates something in him – she says it all the time that Spencer is a very attractive young man, which boosts his ego more than it should. But the alcohol in his system is amplifying everything she’s saying and everything he’s feeling, making him blush at her words.

“Ti ho mai detto quanto mi piacerebbe baciarti?”

(Have I ever told you how much I’d love to kiss you?)

Spencer frowns, now more confused than ever by her words. “Y/N, what are you saying?”

She leans closer, her thumb still brushing over his bottom lip. “Le tue labbra sono così soffici, mi fanno venire voglia di morderle.”

(Your lips are so soft, they make me want to bite them.)

He’s completely speechless and he’s pretty sure his heart is ready to jump out of his chest right now.

“I don’t know why you’re talking in Italian to me. – whispers the young doctor, his eyes following her thumb as she drives it back on his cheekbone before leaning even closer – Maybe it’s better if I call you a cab, you’re too wasted.”

But Y/N whines, shaking her head as she hides her face in the crook of his neck. “No, non ancora. Per favore!”

(No, not yet. Please!)

Her lips are now pressed against the tender skin of Spencer’s throat, leaving little kisses that are too dangerous for his own sake – but he can’t pull away, because this feels extremely amazing. He doesn’t care if he’s in the middle of a club – it’s still the alcohol talking for him, even though he didn’t have that much – because he has Y/N sitting on his thighs and kissing his neck, whispering words in Italian that he can’t quite recall. Rossi tried to teach him Italian, Spencer has never had the chance to actually buy books to really learn it.

He knows a few words – most of them as cuss words, actually – but he knows the basics sentences. It’s not much but Y/N told him he had a nice pronunciation, which was the biggest compliment coming from someone who speaks Italian as good as her. She has studied and worked in Italy for a couple of years before starting to work for the FBI. Spencer remembers working on a case in which the unsub left pieces of the Divina Commedia on the victims; Y/N read those papers for him and he immediately fell in love both with the language and her, as well.

Hearing her talk in another language is kinda hot.

Hotter than it should be.

“Va bene, ma ad una condizione: torni a casa con me. – says Y/N, her lips now gently wrapping around his right earlobe – Voglio passare la notte con te, Spencie.”

(Alright, but on one condition: you come home with me. I want to spend the night with you, Spencer.)

Spencer closes his eyes, forcing himself to keep quiet and not release that stupid moan on the tip of his tongue. His earlobe is one of the most sensitive parts of his body and if Y/N doesn’t stop her movements right now, he’s really going to get a boner in the middle of a club – and he can’t really take care of it in a bathroom, where everyone could hear him or walk on him.

“Y/N, sweetheart, I don’t understand a single word you’re saying. – mutters Spencer, gritting his teeth when Y/N gently nibbles on his earlobe – Okay, you need to stop right now or I’ll get hard.”

She giggles at his words, her mouth travelling back down on his neck. She fucking giggled because Spencer told her he’s about to get hard if she doesn’t stop – she’s a fucking tease and Spencer now regrets even getting out of his apartment.

If he hadn’t accepted Penelope’s offer, he’d be safe and sound in his own bed with a good book in his hands and a cup of coffee on the nightstand. Instead, he has a woman sitting on his lap with her arm around his neck and he’s slowly getting hard in his pants.

This is fucked up.

But so fucking hot, as well.

“Let’s go home. – states Spencer, tapping her thigh – I’ll take you home.”

Y/N claps her hands, jumping off his thighs. “Finalmente! È da anni che aspetto questo momento.”

(Finally! I’ve been waiting years for this moment.)

He raises an eyebrow before shaking his head, still not understanding a single world. He doesn’t know if Y/N is doing this on purpose to confuse him or the alcohol has really taken over her body, forcing her to almost forget the spoken English and focus on another language she learned. It would be a fun moment if only Y/N wasn’t deliberately trying to get him hard in the middle of a fucking club.

The young woman leans down to grab her purse but she almost loses her balance, so Spencer grabs her by the hip and pulls her back, preventing her from falling flat on her face and ruining those pretty features of her. Y/N turns around, re-composing herself as she fixes her hair with one hand and uses the other to pat on Spencer’s chest, giggling again at him.

It’s difficult to carry a dead weight around, especially if this dead weight is a drunk woman that keeps giggling and kissing and messing with his head. She doesn’t know what’s happening, she won’t remember anything the day after and luckily Luke didn’t decide to record anyone that night. Spencer doesn’t know if he’ll be able to make it through the night without passing out first if she touches him again – having her hands all over his body, around his neck, pulling on his shirt is hard.

If Y/N was sober, he’s pretty sure they would’ve kissed.

“Put your seatbelt on. – says Spencer, helping the young woman sitting on the car seat – Come on, stop kicking me.”

“Sei così bello.”

(You are so beautiful.)

Okay, he understood that sentence and he doesn’t know what to say. Y/N seems to understand English right now, even though she’s speaking in Italian, and Spencer wonders what kind of magic messed with her mind to bring her second language out of her mouth instead of English.

“Thank you. – mutters Spencer, watching her as she finally puts the seatbelt on – Are you good?”

Y/N nods, grabbing him by the tie around his neck. “Mi sentirei meglio se mi baciassi.”

(I’d feel better if you would kiss me.)

He pulls away before she could do anything and quickly makes his way to the other side of the car, starting the engine. He doesn’t know what to do with a drunk woman, but he’s not going to leave her alone. She keeps trying to touch him throughout the ride home, gently sneaking her hand over his thigh or grasping his biceps.

Spencer is amused by that.

“Y/N, stop it. – he whispers, gently swatting her hand away – I’m trying to drive. I don’t want to crash the car because you keep touching me.”

She whines but retracts, crossing her legs over her seat. Spencer doesn’t know if tomorrow she’ll remember anything that has left her mouth at all, but he’s going to have so much fun teasing her about it. He remembers the last time he repeated Luke’s actions to him the day after... He ended up running away from Luke for at least half an hour before his colleague decided to stop chasing him around.

It was fun but difficult, because Luke is really fast.

And Spencer isn’t.

“Okay, we’re here.”

Y/N manages to open her car door, climbing out of the vehicle before placing a hand over the glass. Spencer follows her and waits for her to get on her feet alone, but she looks at him and furrows her eyebrows, as if she’s staring at something he clearly doesn’t see.

“Perché non mi hai ancora baciato?”

(“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”)

Spencer raises an eyebrow, wishing Rossi would be there to tell him what she has just said. “I don’t know what you’re saying, Y/N. Come on, though, it’s freezing out here.”

He places a hand on the lower part of her back and helps her walk towards the entrance of the building, not wanting her to fall back down. She seems a bit unsteady on her own legs, but that’s why Spencer is there. He wants to make sure she gets inside her bed safely, without tripping or throwing up. She’s not a threat to herself, but he’s terrified something might happen to her.

Spencer pushes the door open for her, watching Y/N step inside and running towards the other end of the hallway right next to the stairs. She’s giggling all by herself, playing with the edge of her skirt before she sprints up the stairs and Spencer has to follow her.

“Y/N, stop running. – he whispers, glancing at his watch – It’s four in the morning, stop laughing. You’ll wake your neighbours up and I’m sure you don’t want to do that, do you?”

Y/N races until she reaches her door, quickly pulling out her keys. She tries to insert the keys into the keyhole, but she can’t seem to get it right, furrowing her eyebrows and whining.

“I think I have the wrong keys.”

Spencer puts his hand on her back, noticing she’s holding the wrong keys. He wants to laugh because it’s actually a funny scene, but he holds back. He’ll tell her about this tomorrow morning, so they can both laugh at her actions. He’s pretty sure she’ll want to know everything, she’s always scared of having done or said weird things.

Well, she has talked to him in another language so...

“These are your office keys, love. – explains Spencer, pointing to another pair of silver keys – Those are the correct ones. If you use them, you’ll be able to open the door. Or do you want me to do it for you?”

She simply nods, keeping her purse open for him. Spencer grabs her keys and rapidly opens the door of her apartment, smiling softly when Y/N sprints back inside while taking off her shoes and throwing them on the floor.

The heels are clicking against the pavement, making very loud sounds that her neighbours are probably not enjoying. Spencer gets closer to her, giving her a hand before she can fall on the ground on her ass.

“I’m so glad I’m drunk right now.”

Spencer catches her when Y/N basically throws herself onto his body, with her arms around his neck. He wants to lift her up, but he knows that she hates it and she would’ve ended up trying to shift away from him, so he backs away with quick steps towards the bedroom.

“Please, don’t throw up on me. – mutters Spencer, kicking the door open – Please.”

Y/N giggles, nuzzling her face into his neck. “Non ti preoccupare, non mi viene da vomitare.”

(“Don’t worry, I don’t feel like throwing up.”)

Spencer lays her down on the mattress, sitting beside her. “Do you need something to drink?”

She shakes her head, whining when she can’t feel him as close as before. “No. Sdraiati con me, per favore.”

(“No. Lay here with me, please.”)

Spencer doesn’t understand what she’s saying, but he manages to get it when she pats the spot beside her on the bed, a silent signal for him to lay down beside her. So he does, not really sure if he should stay there or just head home because she’s safe in her own apartment – and she’s not wandering the streets in the middle of the night.

Y/N rolls on her side, her eyes fixed on Spencer’s face, and she lifts a hand to brush her thumb over his cheek with a soft smile plastering over her lips. Her cheeks are red, her pupils are dilated and she looks like someone who’s really, really drunk. Spencer doesn’t say anything, simply watching her. He doesn’t mind having her touching his face, he actually likes it because he finds it incredibly comforting.

Whenever they are flying back from a case and Spencer is nervous or upset over it, Y/N asks him if she could touch him and he would feel immediately better. There is something so soothing in her touch, something he can’t quite understand what it is but he can’t get enough of it.

“Sono fortunata ad averti nella mia vita.”

(“I’m lucky to have you in my life.”)

Spencer wishes he could understand what she’s saying. “Thank you, I guess.”

She scoots closer to him, her hand now resting over his chest. “Sono così stanca di dover nascondere i miei sentimenti per te, Spencer.”

(“I’m tired of hiding my feelings for you, Spencer.”)

Why didn’t he pay attention to Rossi when he tried to teach him some Italian?

“Sono ubriaca quindi probabilmente domani non ricorderò nulla di quello che sto per dirti, però credo che tu debba sapere la verità. – mutters Y/N, slowly blinking – Ti amo, Spencer.”

(“I’m drunk, so probably tomorrow I won’t remember anything I just said, but I think you deserve to know the truth. I love you, Spencer.”)

It’s like all the air has been sucked out of his body.

He may not speak Italian, he may not have listened to Rossi, but he knows a few words.

And he knows the last two.

Did she just confess her love for him in another language?

“Y/N, I...”

She closes her eyes, pinching her nose with her hand. “Non dire niente. Sono stanca.”

(“Don’t say anything. I’m tired.”)

But before Spencer could open his mouth to say something, Y/N grabs him by the face and presses a loud quick kiss over his lips. Then she pulls away, not saying anything, but simply cuddling up against his chest as if she just didn’t do what she just did.

She kissed him.

She’s drunk and she kissed him.

She’s drunk, she kissed him, she confessed her love for him.

It could easily be the truth, considering all the teasing Emily and JJ had thrown her way throughout these months of work. Spencer didn’t care too much about it because he thought they were joking and just trying to find a way to embarrass Y/N, but after tonight all of those “funny” sentences make sense in his mind.

At the same time, it could easily mean absolutely nothing. Her inhibitions are compromised by the alcohol she ingested throughout the night, so it might mean she feels comfortable with Spencer and has positive feelings towards him.

But?

Spencer shifts over her bed, a low whine coming out of her mouth when he moves.

It’s difficult to focus on falling asleep when he just heard a love confession – a drunk love confession – coming out of her mouth. Should he believe her?

Pushing those thoughts aside, Spencer manages to fall asleep and forget about this for a while.

Until he wakes up and finds himself all alone in her bedroom, Y/N nowhere to be seen.

The images and the whispered words of last night crashing through his mind and flooding his brain with arrogance, leaving him completely breathless. It wasn’t a dream, her sentence wasn’t a dream; she really confessed that she’s in love with him.

Spencer climbs off the bed, hearing the water run inside of the bathroom.

He knocks on the door. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”

Nothing.

Silence ringing inside of his head.

Spencer steps away from the door and sits on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his head. He smells like alcohol and a tinge of lavender coming from Y/N’s perfume, since she has been pressed to his body for the whole night.

It’s weird he hasn’t felt her move at all.

Usually he wakes up at the slightest of sounds, but apparently he was too gone.

Spencer looks around the room. The skirt and top she was wearing the night before are folded over the nightstand, her phone is nowhere to be seen and her purse is completely empty, left by the window inside of the bedroom.

Y/N must have taken a shower.

So he waits for a few more minutes, gasping when the bathroom door opens.

Y/N steps out of her bathroom with a robe on and her hair covered by the towel.

“Hey.”

She waves at him, not opening her mouth.

Spencer is worried. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”

Y/N shakes her head, taking off the robe to reveal a pair of shorts and a top. She’s still not talking and Spencer is scared he might have done or said something in his sleep that has ruined the whole thing with her.

“Y/N?”

She lets out a loud sigh, covering her eyes.

“Listen, about last night...”

She interrupts him. “Did we hook up?”

Spencer almost chokes at words. “No. No, we didn’t. Why?”

Why would she think they hooked up the night before? She was drunk, he was tipsy. He just took her home because he didn’t trust anybody outside, in the middle of night, with her. That’s why he’s there, that’s why he was on her bed; he didn’t touch her, never in the world he would’ve touched her without her consent.

And, okay, maybe he shouldn’t have stayed but he didn’t want to leave her.

He didn’t want her to wake up all alone, with a pounding headache and more questions.

“Okay, good. I thought... I don’t know. – whispers Y/N, biting her bottom lip – Thank you for taking me home and sleeping here.”

Spencer stands up, watching her as she pushes the towel against her hair. He wants to tell her about what actually happened between them, about how she kissed him and told him that she loved him, but he can see how upset and confused she is so he doesn’t want more fuel to the fire. But at the same time, he has to know if she meant it. If she really is in love with me and those words weren’t just drunken words.

It would break his heart.

“Did you mean it?”

Y/N turns around, staying quiet as she looks up at him. Spencer can see she’s trying to think about what she might have said the night before, the rods in her brain turning rapidly to focus on whatever has happened between them before they woke up.

“You said you loved me.”

Her facial expression doesn’t change, her eyes are still fixed on his face.

“Well, you didn’t exactly speak to me in English so I may not have understood correctly what you said, but... Did you mean it?”

Y/N places the towel at the edge of the bed and bites her bottom lip, still pondering about how to answer his question. She remembers something about last night but she doesn’t quite remember what, exactly. She knows she has touched him a little too much and that he laid down on the bed with her, but...

Oh yeah.

She remembers.

“A drunken man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts, they always say. I’m not sure I believe it, though. – mutters Spencer, scratching the back of his head with his eyes on her face – When a person consumes alcohol, it begins to interfere with their brain’s communication pathways so this affects how a person’s brain processes information around them. You were wasted last night. A large amount of alcohol lowers people’s inhibitions, creating a loss of control and basic decision-making processes. Which is why you might have said something because, if you had said it while sober, you were scared of the consequences.”

Y/N doesn’t know how to answer his words. She remembers speaking to him about her feelings for him, but she doesn’t really know what she had said to him.

“It’s not uncommon for people who are drunk to cross their boundaries of social settings and say things they normally wouldn’t. Accountability is necessary, though. – adds Spencer, lowering his eyes for a second – Alcohol is not a truth serum, but there are consequences that come from drunken behaviour and I... I just want to know if you meant it.”

This is the moment of truth, basically.

If she said it while drunk, she shouldn’t have any problem saying it sober.

Spencer has never been in this situation before. He has never had someone confess their love while being drunk and kissing him. So he doesn’t know if he’s handling this as well as he should be, because he understands the pressure he’s putting on Y/N.

“Yes, I meant it.”

Okay, so she remembers. And she meant what she said.

“You love me.”

What’s the point in hiding anymore?

Y/N takes a step back, leaning against the wall behind her. “I mean...”

Spencer’s nose twitches. “As a friend?”

She wants to laugh. Of course she loves him as a friend, he’s her best friend.

“Not only that.”

Spencer is not sure he’s even breathing right.

A smile appears over his lips as he looks down, not sure what to do now. Should he get up and kiss her to officially put a label on them? Should he thank her for making the first move he knew he wouldn’t have made? Should he grab her hand and reassure her that it’s fine and it’s all good between them?

“I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Spencer furrows his eyebrows. “What? No, I...”

Y/N rolls her eyes, her heart throbbing in her chest. “I made things awkward. I... I remember I kissed you and I’m so sorry for that, I shouldn’t have done that. I know that alcohol is not an excuse for my behaviour, but you were there and my feelings were messy and I just...”

He decides it’s time to come clean with everything.

She’s overwhelmed and he didn’t mean to mess her up like this.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m actually very happy you said it first.”

Y/N gasps, covering her mouth with a hand. “So you... Like...”

“Yeah.”

Spencer lets out a soft laugh, getting closer to her before opening his arms. He’s silently asking her to hug him and he hopes she accepts it, because it’s what he has always wanted ever since she stepped out of her bathroom. He wants to kiss her on the forehead, he wants to whisper that of course he likes her back. Now that he knows the truth about her feelings, he’s able to tell her about his as well.

It’s a domino effect.

Drunken words, drunken kisses lead to sober thoughts and soon hopefully sober kisses.

Y/N gets closer to him until her arms are tightly wrapped around his neck, pulling into a bone crushing hug. Her face is hidden in the crook of his neck and he closes his eyes, easing into the hug each second that passes.

“I’m so sorry for getting wasted last night, Spencer.”

He places a hand behind her neck. “I’m glad you did, because you told me the truth.”

She chuckles, not pulling away from him. “I guess. Did I really speak in another language?”

“You did. The main reason why you spoke a foreign language while drunk is that you lowered your affective filter. And as a result of that, you worried less about the grammatical rules and possible mistakes you could make in sober conversations, which resulted in a more relaxed attitude towards verbal communication. – whispers the young doctor, gently pulling away so he can look directly into her eyes – By the way, I like you too.”

Y/N can’t take the eye-contact so she breaks it, blushing hard at his words.

“I… Thank you?”

Spencer goes silent before bursting out laughing.

Those words weren’t what he was expecting, but they’re good anyway.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.”

She stays quiet, biting her bottom lip. He’s staring at her, probably waiting to see if she kisses him first but she can’t bring herself to do so. She’s even sure she wants to kiss him yet because she feels so embarrassed after last night.

Who in the world confesses their love for their best friend while being drunk?

Why did she do it, in the first place?

Sure, he was there and he looked extra handsome in his gorgeous suit in the middle of a club. His smile was breathtaking and he kept smiling, kissing her cheek and touching her hand over the table, but that wasn’t an excuse for her to drink until she couldn’t anymore and reveal her feelings for him.

She would’ve done it while sober, one day.

Or maybe not.

Maybe this was a blessing in disguise.

“I’m never going to get drunk again.”

Spencer chuckles, slowly pulling away from her before shrugging. “That might be a good idea, because next time we kiss, I want us to be sober. It was nice hearing you talk in another language, though.”

Y/N blushes hard, nodding. She’s still confused as to why she was speaking in another language because that has never happened to her – well, maybe it’s because she usually wouldn’t have gotten wasted the same way that happened the night before.

The young woman steps away from him and proceeds to put her clothes away, not really knowing what to do now that he knows the truth. He has expressed his interest in her but she’s not sure if she should say or do something else.

Spencer puts his shoes back on, entering her bathroom to wash his hands. She would love to ask him if he wants to stay for lunch, since it’s almost eleven in the morning, but she knows he has to go home.

“So...”

She’s leaning against the door, biting her bottom lip. She looks so cute with her red cheeks and that sweet pout over her lips, a pout that is obviously caused by the embarrassment of what happened between them. Even though Spencer felt weird at first, when he tried to stop her wandering her hands from touching him the night before, now he’s more than relaxed and can’t wait to be with her.

Now that he knows the truth about how she’s feeling – even though she hadn’t said much – he can’t wait to show her how much he likes her. Spencer stares at her, drying his hands on a towel before crossing his arms to his chest.

“So…”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Straight-forward, thinks Spencer as he grins.

“Yes, I’d love to.”

That’s it.

There’s nothing else to say.

Y/N can’t stop smiling as she follows Spencer to the door of her apartment, watching him as he leaves. They exchange one last long look before he waves at her and disappears behind the main entrance of the building, leaving her questioning whether they’re going to go out together.

She made the first move, now it’s his turn.

It’s not even a week later that Spencer sends her a text and asks her if she’s in the mood for a walk.

He shows up at her place with a red rose in his hands.

Maybe getting drunk on tequila for one night wasn’t such a bad idea.

Tag list: @getyoutmoon, @bookishspencer @calm-and-doctor @reidswhoree @nazifa94 @srhxpci @eevee0722 @reichelhache @aperrywilliams @escapingrealities @beepbooptoop @anime-for-live @alfonsais @lil-stark @muffin-cup @allexthakatt @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @gyllord @winterwhore @sweetandsunny @sykesgublerboy @peterpanouat @softreidx @limerenze @gbaabyyyy @nomajdetective @doctorspenceryeet @hotchandspencearedilfs @matthewgraygublerwife @Jadealicious06 @avocadopenguins @reidsmilf

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Million Dollar Man | chapter two

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)

word count: 3.4K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est

Chapter Two | Masterlist

She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.

Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.

Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.

She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.

All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.

She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.

But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.

He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”

He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”

She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”

He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.

She doesn’t accept it just yet.

It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.

“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”

He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.

Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”

“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”

Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”

She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”

Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.

It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.

“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.

“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”

“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.

She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”

“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.

“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”

“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”

“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”

“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”

“Yes please,” she smiles.

“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”

“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.

—

They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.

Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.

For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.

He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.

He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.

They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.

“How many gifts is this now?”

“We’re at 5 out of 24.”

She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”

“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.

“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.

The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.

“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”

“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.

“He lets her choose,” he whispers.

“He rescues her,” she corrects him.

“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.

It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”

“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.

“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”

“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.

“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”

She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”

“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”

She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”

“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”

“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.

“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”

She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”

He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”

“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.

As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”

He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…

“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”

With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.

“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”

“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”

He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”

She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”

He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”

He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.

She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.

“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”

He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”

“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”

Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.

She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.

“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.

“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”

“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.

“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”

“Daddy’s girl.”

He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.

She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.

He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”

“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.

“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”

For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.

“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.

She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”

“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.

“Only if you let me wash the front too?”

She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.

Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.

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