#bookstore owner!spencer reid x reader

[boldlyvoid]

Falling For You.

[REQUEST] spencer reid x BAU!reader but they're in a secret relationship, and basically she gets him to watch all these romcoms, so when he makes a reference to something like Notting Hill or You've Got Mail and then the whole secret is blown.

warnings: mentions of lila archer, spoilers for 90s/2000s rom-coms, co-workers to lovers, love confessions, implied smut, secret relationships.

word count: 2.4k

It was no secret that the newest team member had a thing for romantic comedies. From the little jokes she made with Penelope to the quote from Pretty Woman on her travel mug, she was a walking Rom-Com reference.

Hotch understood some of the references, JJ would talk her ear off about her favourites, and even Emily and Derek would jokingly re-enact that scene from When Harry Met Sally every time they had a team lunch. It was only Spencer who didn’t get the jokes, and after having to explain them all to him 1 too many times, she finally invited him over to watch some. 

The first one they watched together was Can’t Buy Me Love. Patrick Dempsey, a loveable nerd has been saving up all summer to buy the telescope of his dreams when the girl next door accidentally ruins her mom's favourite dress and needs to buy a replacement… he ends up buying it for her on the condition that she pretends to date him so his Senior Year can be his best year yet. Spencer likes the movie overall, he wishes someone in his high school took enough pity on him to make him popular. But his favourite scene is when they go to the abandoned airplane graveyard and watch the stars in his homemade telescope. 

“I can make one of those,” Spencer whispers to her. 

“Really?” 

He nods, “It would be pretty easy… maybe we could go star gazing someday too?” He asks, biting the bullet and making this movie date the first of many dates they’d go on. 

—

The next movie they watch is Never Been Kissed. Drew Barrymore is a nerdy reporter who goes undercover at a high school and gets to relive her teen years while falling in love for the first time. Spencer likes this one because he can relate, he never had his first kiss until well into his 20s… and she was an actress, too. When he explains that to Y/N she can’t believe it, but he has the magazine photos of them saying goodbye after the case to prove it. 

“Have you kissed many people since then?” She asks, wishing he’d move a little closer to her and steal one. 

He nods, “a few.” 

“anyone good?” 

He shakes his head, “no, I’m saving the best kiss for last.” 

She looks puzzled? “What?” 

“My best kiss will be from the girl I end up marrying,” he gives her a smile and moves his hand over to hold hers. 

“Oh,” she bites back a smile and looks down at their interlocked fingers. “Have you at least met her yet?” 

“I think so…” 

“Well, then shouldn’t you kiss her to find out if she’s the right one?” She teases, leaning into his space even more. 

“I suppose you’re right,” he teases, he cups her face with his free hand and rubs his thumb over her cheek, “are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

She nods and leans in all the way this time. Effectively pressing their lips together. And even for a first kiss, it sure does feel different. It feels like her last first kiss ever. 

—

Keeping it a secret at work is hard when all they want to do is stare at each other with googly-eyes, they’ve fallen head over heels for each other and not told a single soul. No one knows about their movie dates or their real dates either. No one knows they’ve spent a whole night kissing or that they really, really, don’t mind sharing the hotel room with the two queen beds. And they definitely don’t know that they only slept in the one. Together. The whole week they were away. 

After the case ends, they head back to her apartment for their mandated 48 hours off with the pan to watch as many movies as they can. 

The third movie they watch is You’ve Got Mail. 

“Rival bookstore owners hate each other in real life, yet on the internet manage to fall madly in love with one another. Based on an older movie called The Shop Around The Corner, it’s a beloved story brought to life once again by the one and only Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.” 

She explains every movie like this before they put it on. He’s honestly only watching them because he loves listening to her talk about them. 

“You see, they both have partners in real life but they email each other every day, as friends… but you know what it's like in movies like these,” she smirks. “Best friends who have a lot in common find it easy to fall in love.” 

“That they do,” he agrees. 

He raises his arm over the back of the couch and she sits back, leaning into his side just as his hand lands on her shoulder. They snuggle up close, she hits play and he watches with glee, not knowing this was going to become his favourite movie by the time it’s over. 

His favourite line is when two cars honk at each other and their drivers get out to argue, followed by Meg Ryan saying “Don’t you love New York in the fall?” Which is something Tom Hanks says to her in an email earlier that morning.

He loves the way the old man recalls a woman of his past and called her “enchanting” because what a wonderful thing to say about a woman.

He giggles when Tom Hanks tosses aside Pride and Prejudice cause he just doesn’t get it the way Meg's character does. But ultimately, he picks it back up because he wants to get to know her through her reading history. 

“I sympathize with Frank,” Spencer whispers as he brings out a typewriter when they have a perfectly good computer at her house. 

“I know,” she laughs. “I love the tablets at work, I can’t believe you still have Penny paint the files out for you.” 

You are a lone reed standing tall, waving boldly in the curet sands of commerce. Frank compliments Kathleen, or at least he tries to. 

Spencer giggles again. “I remember what it was like being a lone Reid,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

She gets all flustered, so madly in love with him that she wants to scream it from the rooftops but it feels way too soon. They’re only 3 movies into their relationship. Maybe at 10, she’ll tell him. Till then, she looks over at him and steals a real kiss. 

Kathleen is so passionate about her books in the same way that Y/N loves her movies. Spencer sees so many similarities between them that it’s really no wonder that Tom Hanks’ character falls in love with her. Passionate, kind, beautiful women will always have a place in Spencer's heart. 

Their 4th movie is another Meg Ryan classic; When Harry Met Sally, and now Spencer understands why Derek pretends to have an orgasm when he eats a good salad… 

Their 5th movie is Notting Hill and Y/N can tell he doesn’t like it very much because unlike William Tucker, the actress who kissed Spencer never talked to him again after that. 

Their 6th movie, however, is Pretty Woman. And while they shared a bed all through the last case, they’ve never really slept together. So watching a movie all about sex and falling in love really didn’t help the frustration they were both feelings. By the time the movie ended, it was almost midnight and they should’ve been getting ready for bed. 

She gets up and heads to her room, expecting him to follow but he just stands in her doorway, watching with a bit of anxiety in his gut. 

“So…” Spencer asks. “What happens after he climbs up and rescues her?” 

She stills, her heart fills with love and she quickly makes his way to him. She cups his face in her hands, staring up at him. “She rescues him right back.” 

“Indeed you have,” he leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips. “You know what all these movies have in common?” 

“What?” She has no idea where he’s going with this.

“They all fell in love pretty quickly, I mean just look at Vivian and Edward, it took them less than a week,” he explains. “So I don’t feel too crazy when I say… I love you, Y/N. I love you so very much.” 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she whispers between kisses. 

They kiss and kiss and he walks with her, leading her toward the bed where they fall in and make love for the first time. It's hot and close and emotional. It's slow and steady and perfect. It’s everything both of them have dreamed of when they finally met the one. 

— 

On their second day off they watch How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, 13 Going On 30, 50 First Dates, A Walk to Remember, 10 Things I Hate About You, and The Holiday. They would’ve gotten to more if they weren’t so wrapped up in one another. By the time they go back to work, they’ve gotten through half of her list of favourite movies. 

He’s not sure if it’s luck or coincidence or what… but their next case happens to be in New York. 

When they land, they get into their Bureau-issued SUVs and weave in and out of traffic on their way to the scene. They’re honked at multiple times and Spencer just smirks to himself. It’s not until they get out and they’re honked at once again, with some guy yelling at them to get out of his way, that Spencer turns to her and says. “Don’t you love New York in the fall?” 

She giggles and shoves him, “Shut up.” 

“It’s not the fall?” JJ remarks, not knowing why he’d say such a thing or why she’d react like that. 

“Hey, isn’t that…” Emily thinks it over for a second. “That’s a line from you’ve got mail!” 

“How would Spencer know that movie?” JJ laughs it off. 

Spencer turns to beat red with embarrassment. “I’ve seen it…” 

“You’ve seen you’ve got mail?” Derek even rides him for this slip-up. “And when do you have time to watch rom-coms?” 

“I’ve seen the original,” he lies. “It’s based on The Shop Around The Corner. My mom liked it before she got sick.” 

“Okay,” they drop it there. 

Thankfully. 

And by the time the case ends, 3 days have passed, the unsub has been booked into Jail at 9am and they’re free to go home. If they want to. Derek suggests they all go out for breakfast, and Hotch says he rather go home and sleep. JJ wants to go shopping and Emily’s right there with her. 

Spencer on the other hand, he opens his phone and sends Y/N a message. 

“There’s a place in Riverside Park at 91st street where the path curves and there’s a garden. I’ll be waiting there for you.” 

She digs her phone out of her pocket seconds later and smiles, a small sigh leaves her as her shoulders slump. She’s so in love with him it's unreal. 

“What about you, Y/N?” Emily asks her. “Do you want to come with us?” 

“No… no, I have a friend in town I want to meet up with.” 

“Looks like it’s just me and you for breakfast, pretty boy,” Derek teased, wrapping his arm around Spencer. 

He shakes his head, “Actually, I was thinking about going on a little sightseeing adventure, you know I only come to new york for work.” 

“Fine then,” Derek drops it and he, Emily and JJ watch as Spencer and Y/N head off, out of the precinct and in different directions. “I bet you ten bucks they’re meeting up.” 

“Hold on,” JJ says as she calls up Penelope. “Hey, yeah, can you tell me where Spencer and Y/N’s GPS pings in 20 minutes?” 

“I can… why?” Penny asks nervously. 

“No reason. Just a hunch.” 

When Penelope eventually calls her back all she has to say is Riverside Park at 91st Street and they know. 

—

Y/N gets there first, she’s never seen this place in person before. The flowers are even more vibrant than in the movie. There are bees dancing around every other flower, couples walking around hand in hand, people on dog walks and moms with their strollers. It’s just an average early morning in New York. 

And then she sees him. He comes rounding the corner, he’s carrying a bouquet of flowers wrapped in newspaper… at least she thinks they’re flowers. 

What they don’t notice is their friends on the other side of the garden, watching them get closer and closer until they’re chest to chest. He wraps his free hand around her waist, she cups his face in her own hands, and she stares up at him like he hung the stars just for her.  

“I wanted it to be you,” Spencer whispers what was originally Meg Ryan's line. “I wanted it to be you so badly.” 

“You sure did save the best for last,” she knows exactly what he means. 

Just as they lean in to kiss, as his lips meet hers, they hear it. Someone is playing “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” just for them. They smile into the kiss, shocked that their life is playing out like a perfectly written movie and then they see them.

It’s their own friends who played it. They’re clapping in the distance, “Woo!!” Emily cheers.

“We knew this would happen!” Derek throws in for good measure. 

They can’t help but laugh, Spencer pulls her in for another kiss, a longer, more hearty kiss. He loves her and he wants everyone to know. 

When she pulls back, she looks as though she could cry, so he extends the bouquet to her. It’s a bunch of yellow, newly sharpened number 2 pencils tied up with string. 

“Don’t you love New York in the fall?” 

“Not as much as I love you,” she says as she takes them, gladly. “Not even close.” 

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

[paisleypens]

Unexpected Encounters

fem!reader x spencer

super cutsie bakery bookstore drabble :)

~~~~

Dr. Spencer Reid stepped out of the bustling FBI office, his mind still processing the details of the latest case they had been working on. As an integral part of the BAU, he was used to diving deep into the darkest corners of the human mind, but today's case had left him particularly introspective.

In need of a break, Spencer decided to take a walk through the streets nearby, wandering aimlessly as he let his thoughts wander. As he passed by a quaint bookshop, the inviting aroma of freshly baked pastries caught his attention, drawing him inside.

The bell above the door chimed softly as Spencer entered the cozy bookshop bakery, his eyes immediately drawn to the rows of books lining the shelves and the display of treats behind the counter. He couldn't help but smile at the charming ambiance of the place.

"Welcome to Storybook Sweets," a warm voice greeted him, pulling his gaze to the counter where a woman with a frenzied smile stood. She had a dusting of flour on her apron, giving her a flustered, adorable look.

"Hi," Spencer replied, his curiosity piqued by the combination of books, bakeds goods and her. "This place seems… like a hidden gem."

The woman chuckled. "It is, in a way. I'm Y/N, the owner of this ‘gem’."

Spencer nodded, forcing his focus away from her and onto the books. As he perused the shelves, Y/N moved away to help another customer, leaving him to explore the bookshop at his own pace.

Lost in the world of literature, Spencer found himself engrossed in a book on mythology. Time seemed to slip away as he delved deeper into the pages, unaware of Y/N's occasional glances in his direction.

When he finished the book, Spencer realized that the afternoon had turned into evening, and the bookshop bakery had become quieter as customers trickled out. Y/N approached him with a warm smile, noticing his engagement with the book.

"Finding something intriguing?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Spencer nodded, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Your selection is quite impressive. It's refreshing to find a place that combines intellectual stimulation with, well, food."

Y/N chuckled softly. "I'm glad you think so. Books have a way of captivating our minds, and pastries have a way of captivating our souls. It's the best in the world."

As they continued their friendly conversation, Spencer found himself drawn to Y/N's intelligence, warmth, and passion for her store. Little did he know that this chance encounter would mark the beginning of a delightful experience filled with warm croissants and even warmer feelings.

~~~~

thanks for reading!! let me know if you want a part 2!! requests are open!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds #bakery #spencer reid fanfiction #paisleypens

[wheelsupimagine]

Meant to be -Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x FemReader

Word count: 3.2k words

Warnings: mentions of s3 e16 and s4 e24, angst and fluff

Summary: A case reminded Spencer of his past and you the only friend he had in high school, what if one day you two meet again in DC.

Being a resident genius had its favors, the team bets everything on him and he could always retrieve this but this case was different, it was difficult it got personal.

His edict memory is a blessing but not when a case like this reminded him of his past - Alexa Lisbon.

Then he wished he could forget everything for once in his life, but he will always remember.

When Spencer stepped out of the plane, he felt like he could breathe again, but his mind still raced - this case was an emotional roller coaster for him and the best way for Spencer to calm down was to go to his favorite bookstore.

The moment Spencer stepped into the bookstore he felt relieved, the familiar smell of old books and fresh coffee felt like home and no other person was in sight.

"Hey Spencer though case?!" Miranda the owner of the shop asked.

"Hey Miranda, yeah it was."

"Okay, your coffee will be ready in a bit, the bookstore is almost empty just one more person is here."

Spencer nodded but he was surprised that someone else would be here at this time still Spencer didn’t let himself bother knowing he would probably not even find this person.

Spencer left Miranda and made his way deeper into the bookstore. He was so invested in finding a new book, that he totally forgot about his coffee till he heard his name being called.

"Spencer Reid?" A stranger called his name

He turned his head and then he saw you.

Y/N Y/L/N.

What Spencer didn’t tell Derek was, who got him down from the goalpost back then - it was y/n, after that night you two spent more time together - Spencer could always come to you, and you two never talked about his problems and struggles because when he was with you it didn’t matter, once or twice he talked with you about his mom but mostly he just enjoyed your company and felt like a decent kid with a friend.

When he graduated high school, he never looked back but after 14 years you stand now in front of him right here in this bookstore in DC.

"Miranda asked me if I could bring you your coffee before it gets cold." You said and pointed at his coffee in your hand.

"My god Spencer, I can’t believe it’s you." You continued.

"Thank you y/n." Spencer took the coffee from you.

"It’s been a while, you look good by the way."

Spencer blushed, but he didn’t say anything back.

"Ähm yeah it was nice to see you again, I don’t want to bother much longer." As you attempted to leave, Spencer stopped you.

"Actually I could use some company if you like… Only if you want to obviously, I would understand if you don’t want to…" Spencer

rambled, but you stopped him.

"I would love to keep you company Spencer."

You two sat down and drank your coffee and talked. Spencer found out that you moved here two years ago because you got a job offer at the Walter Reed hospital and nothing held you in Las Vegas. Spencer talked to you about his job in the FBI, you asked him about Diana and it surprised him that you still knew her name, you two had a great time together until you caught Spencer off guard.

"Spencer, how are you really? You have very dark circles under your eyes."

"I…I haven’t slept really, it was this case that reminded me of something in the past." Spencer sighed and didn’t dare to look you in the eyes.

You knew where his mind went, you rubbed Spencer’s arm.

"But look at you now, these High school jerks and Alexa are definitely regretting this now." You looked at your clock.

"Hey Spencer it’s getting late, I have to wake up early and honestly you need some sleep too."

Spencer's mimic changed from happy to sad in one motion.

"Oh, I understand. Yeah yeah, you should leave you need your sleep." Spencer took his distance from you, thinking you wanted to leave because you already had enough of him.

"Spencer hey, if you want we can exchange phone numbers so we could meet again."

Spencer’s lips curved into a smile.

"Yeah, I would like that."You exchanged numbers and you both left the shop together.

Sadly you two had to split ways, Spencer insisted on walking you home but you promised him that it wouldn’t even take 10 minutes till you were home. Spencer started rambling about unsafety and what everything could happen in 10 minutes.

"Wow, now I might think I have to stay with you forever." You joked

but Spencer was stunned and it caused his cheeks to turn slightly pink.

"I just made a joke Dr. Reid, okay. Would you feel better if I wrote you when I made it home save in 10 minutes?" You asked him.

"This would make it slightly better. But.."

"But?" You asked confused.

"You lied," Spencer said.

"What?"

"You first said you would be home in less than 10 minutes now it’s exactly 10 minutes." Spencer smiled and you laughed.

"Come home safe Dr. Reid."You smiled and turned around making your way home.

When Spencer arrived home, he thought about going to bed immediately but you crossed his mind again and when he looked at his phone he saw that you hadn’t wrote him yet. So instead of getting in his pyjamas he sat on his couch and waited for your text.

After 10 minutes and 45 seconds, you texted him letting him know you made it home safe.

Spencer:You are too late.

Y/n:What?!

Spencer:You are exactly 45 seconds too late. Next time I call the FBI.

Y/n:haha. I am so sorry dr Reid, I changed into my pajamas first.

Y/n:You didn’t need to stay awake for me

Spencer:But I wanted to make sure that you save.

Y/n:Thank you Spencer but you also need to sleep.

Spencer:Good night Y/n sleep well.

Y/n:Sleep well genius.

Over the last few months, Spencer and you met at the bookstore when your jobs allowed it. Otherwise, you two stay connected through messages and phone calls. Even the team noticed a shift in Spencer’s mood and as the man Derek is he asks him about it.

"Hey, pretty boy, who’s got you on the phone like this?"

"What do you mean, I use my phone like I always do."

"No boy wonder, for someone who rarely uses his phone in his free time, you are really caught up in it now." Derek laughed.

"Is pretty boy in love?" Derek asked and wiggled with his brows.

"Derek please can you leave it, it’s nothing," Spencer answered and didn’t dare to look Derek in the eyes.

"Okay Spencer, I let it slide for now but just so you know I care about you and if there is someone in your life that makes you happy, I just want to know."

Paperwork days for Spencer were never a problem, he accepted it cause it needed to be done but now with you in his life, he loved paperwork because it meant he wasn’t away on a case and with you having the morning shift, it gave you two the chance to meet up after work and he enjoyed your time together, he feels like he can be like himself with you and he hasn’t laughed so much since he met you.

But your jobs didn't allow this too much, either you had the night shift or Spencer was out of town for a case and he hated this, he hated when you weren’t around, he hated it when you two were in the same city but didn’t get to see each other and even though he loves his job, he couldn’t wait to come home, to see you - he missed you.

Cases also mean for him that he barely has time to call you.

Currently, Spencer has been away for a week already, this case going longer than he thought it would take, Spencer lay on his motel bed and tried to find the breakthrough for the case but nothing came to his mind.

He put the papers aside and looked at the clock, it wasn’t too late in DC yet, and he was unsure if he should call you, it’s nothing you usually do so that Spencer could stay focused on the case but honestly, he needed to hear your voice tonight, so he tried to call you hoping you aren’t already asleep.

"Spencer? Is everything okay?" Your voice sounds raw.

"Hey, yeah everything is okay. Did I wake you up? I am so sorry, I really didn’t mean to, it was a stupid idea to call you, you obviously slept, and your voice sounds raw. I should-."

"Spencer, breath, everything is fine. I didn’t sleep, I - I just rolled around, I was thinking about you."

Spencer was stunned by your confession, he stayed silent but his heart was beating very fast.

"So yeah, what’s on your mind, Spencer?" You asked breaking the silence.

"We don’t come forward with the case and I...I wanted to hear your voice." Spencer confessed.

"Sometimes it takes more time to find the perpetrator but the only thing that matters is that you will find him. I miss you but please stay safe there."

"I will y/n, I promise."

"Hey, Spencer."

"Yes, y/n."

"Why don’t we meet when you come back, we could order takeout and make a movie marathon at my place nothing fancy." You suggested.

"Yeah, yeah I would like that."

"Good, I will see you soon, good night Spencer."

"Good night y/n."

A few days later the team finally caught the unsub.

As the team flew back to Virginia, Spencer wrote you to let you know that he would land in the late afternoon and asked you if you two wanted to have the movie marathon tonight which you accepted.

Spencer didn’t even realize that he smiled like an idiot until Derek pulled him out of his thoughts.

"You pretty boy what got your smile like that?" Derek asked Spencer.

"Uh n-no-nothing," Spencer said but his cheeks turned 10 times darker every second.

"Sureee Spencer."

Spencer didn’t say anything.

"Hey Spencer," Derek said.

"Yeah."

"It’s good to see you like this," Derek replied. He left Spencer alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t wait to see you tonight.

Spencer arrived at your apartment complex 10 minutes too early, he first waited in his car, drumming his fingers on his bouncing leg, trying to calm himself down but he failed miserably, so he stood in front of your door 7 minutes and 43 seconds too early but it was okay, in that time he tried to get his breath under control.

But before Spencer got his breath under control, you already opened the door.

"Man, I thought you would never knock at my door." You greeted him.

"How-how did you know I stood in front of your door?" Spencer asked.

"I saw you parking your car 5 minutes ago, I waited for you.”

"Oh yeah I didn’t want to be late here but I also didn’t want to be too early, I didn’t know if you were ready yet," Spencer explained.

"It’s okay Spencer but next time just knock you could never be annoying to me, even if you're too early you can sit on my couch like right now."

"I will quickly make the popcorn, you can look for a movie we could watch." You suggested and Spencer sat down and looked for a good movie to watch that you also liked, when you returned with the popcorn and other snacks, you sat down next to him but not too close, Spencer still didn’t decide what to watch.

"I-I don’t know what to watch, movies that I like are mostly not the type from others," Spencer admitted.

"Okay mhm, what do you think of Star Trek?"

"What?!" Spencer was completely shocked.

"Ähm okay was that a bad request?"

"No, no it’s- it’s great actually, I love it, I didn’t think you would like these types of movies," Spencer admitted.

"I am full of surprises Spencer."

So you watched the Star Trek series and after some time you both fell asleep, no one knows who fell asleep first maybe it was you or him but for sure was that you both bumped your heads, after a phone went off - it was Spencer’s.

"I’m sorry, I’ve got a case, is your head okay?"

"Yeah, yeah is there enough time for coffee or do you have to leave immediately?"

"No, it looks really important I have to leave now, but at least the case is here."

"Okay, good luck, be safe."

"I will be." As Spencer was about to leave he turned around once more.

"Hey y/n?"

"Yes, Spencer."

"I had a lot of fun last night."

"Me too, maybe we couldn’t do it again sometime?"

"I would love to, bye y/n."

"See you soon doctor, come home to me in one piece."

Just when the door felt shut, your phone started ringing, it was the hospital.

"Hey, y/n. Is it possible for you to fill in today, maya is sick."

"Yeah sure, I am on my way."

Spencer just visited Abby one of the remaining survivors, in the middle of their conversation Abby got aphasia, which scared Spencer, this stain kills people in a short amount of time and right now he couldn’t do anything.

Then he thought about you, and he had the urge to talk to you, even though he may get in trouble for this he needed to know you were okay.

"Spencer, is everything okay?" You said quite in panic.

"Yeah, yeah sure why wouldn’t it be… I.. I just wanted to hear your voice and I wanted to know if you are okay."

"Everything is okay, besides I have to work today."

"What !! I thought it was your free day?"

"Yeah, change in plans, one of my colleagues is sick and they asked me to fill in, but it’s fine, it’s a quiet day." You lied to Spencer, nothing was quiet on this day.

Hey, Spencer, it looks like I’ve got to go out there again. Look out for yourself and maybe if you’d like we could out soon.. like on a real date, maybe?"

"..I would like it, yeah, that would be great."

"Good, stay safe Spencer. Bye"

"Goodbye, Y/n. Take care of yourself. See you soon."

You both hung up with a smile and at least forgot the scary situation for a few seconds, before you got out again and took care of the anthrax-infected patients.

Spencer and Derek made their way to Nichols a possible suspect in the anthrax case. When they arrived Spencer had cut himself briefly on the thorn bush but it didn't stop him and continued to walk with Derek closer to the house.

Before Morgan and Reid entered Nichols's private lap, Derek got a phone call, Reid made his way into the lab and left Derek behind.

As Derek ended the call, he realized Spencer was not behind him. Derek ran towards the house calling for Reid and just when he arrived at the house, Spencer closed the door from the lab and told Derek he couldn’t get in there just then Derek saw the broken test tube with Anthrax in it.

Spencer was a step closer to death.

You took the mask from your face and took a deep breath and you finally broke down, you started crying, it was too much for you, seeing all those vulnerable people and you can’t do anything to help them, you can only try to make this stay as comfortable as possible.

You knew what this job meant, you can’t save everybody but this is not fair, how can a human being so heartless and let these people perish?

You took another deep breath and then you thought about Spencer, hopefully was okay, far away from this situation but deep down you knew he wasn’t, he is in the FBI of course he is involved but please let him be okay.

You needed to hear Spencer's voice, so you called him.

"Y/n…" Spencer began to cough.

"Spencer.. what's happening. You don’t sound okay."

"Everything is fine." Spencer coughed again.

"Spencer…no matter what is happening…"

"Y/n listen." Spencer cut you off.

"I love you Y/n… everything is gonna be okay but I've got to go now. Then Spencer hung up and you didn’t get to answer him.

You tried it a few more times but he didn’t pick and now it felt like your world broke down, you burst into tears knowing couldn’t do anything.

After Spencer and Dr. Kimura may have found the cure for this anthrax, Spencer finally gets to go out of the lab and go to the shower, but as Spencer untied his tie, Dr. Kimura sees the cut Spencer got from the bush and the situation just got more dangerous, hopefully, the cure was in the inhaler.

When Dr. Kimura came in with a newly infected anthrax patient your heart skipped a beat - it was Spencer.

He was in an awful state and for a moment you didn’t know if he would survive this.

The situation finally got under control with the confirmation from the lab that the cure was in the inhaler, the last survivors and Spencer were able to be cured and now it was a matter of time before Spencer woke up.

When you walked towards Spencer’s room, you saw a man sitting by Spencer and eating his jello that you put on his table, just then Spencer woke up and immediately asked if there would be more jello.

As you arrived at Spencer's room you couldn’t hold back anymore.

"Hey." You've said as if a stone fell from your heart.

"Hi." Said Spencer with a smile on his face.

You both wanted to say so much more but with this muscular man in the room who you didn’t know - there was an awkward silence there.

"Okay, I think it’s my time to leave. Have fun lover boy." The man said and left you too alone.

"You’ve scared me, Spencer." You sat down on the bed and took his hand in yours.

"I didn’t mean to do this and I am sorry for what I said, I would understand if you don’t want to see me anymore, I mean with what I said I took this.." Spencer rambled.

"I love you too Spencer."

"WHAT?! Really?"

"Yes Spencer, of course I do, I've loved you since we first met back in Las Vegas."

Spencer cupped with both hands your face and you leaned in and then you two kissed for the first time.

"So you still want to go out with me?" You asked.

"Of course Y/n." You both hugged and Spencer's face was crooked in your neck.

"Hey, Y/n?"

"Yes, Spencer."

"Before we go out on the date, can I have some of this jello?" Spencer asked shyly but you just started laughing.

"Of course, my love, you can have as much jello as you want."

Man - when I wrote this it felt from length okay but now I feel like it’s a little rushed maybe you could give me feedback if I should get more in detail with the story and the conversations.

I am still very new to writing and it feels super though to write Spencer so that he still has his character traits and doesn’t sound like a totally different Spencer.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[hyperfixationstati0n]

When you know, you know

An: so… I got very carried away and didn’t realize I was taking so long to get to the romance stuff that I barely had any time for romance stuff!! so the promise is if you like this pretty please tell me and I’ll make a part two (also I wrote this in first person by accident and it was too late to change it and I kinda like it more) 

Pairing: Spencer x bookstore owner!reader

Content warnings: I tried to make it gender neutral but it could come across as more fem if you squint, lowkey slow burn, both Spencer and reader are socially awkward (but reader is more than Spencer), there is A swear

Word count: 1,106

Summary: When Spencer Reid walks into your bookstore, you’re stunned and speechless, yet also too afraid to talk to him. But fate brings people together in odd ways.

When I made the biggest decision of my life to drop most of my savings on a rundown shop at the edge of town, the regret was almost instant. The anxiety seeped down from my brain to deep in my body, settling in my bones before reaching my heart. As progress was made and it started to look like the bookshop of my dreams, the anxiety lessened, but not by much.

For the first few months, it was just me. There weren’t many customers, which I was fine with. Since I was the only one there, that meant I had to work the register. Every time someone walked in and I heard the little chime of the bell I had on the door, my knees started feeling like jelly. I got nervous talking to people.

So when I was finally able to hire some help, it was like the weight of the world had been lifted off my chest. I had two employees, one older woman who lived in the apartment building next door. Her name was Rose and she smelled like vanilla she always brought in baked goods. She helped me keep the store organized. Then there was Lennon, a 21-year-old college student who was looking to make some extra money before graduation. Lennon's whole existence was working the register. It worked. Our little trio soon caused the bookstore to grow. not by much, but at least now I was making more than I was spending.

About a year and a half into this endeavor was the first time he came in. I was restocking the fantasy section. The chime of the bell made my head turn-that’s when I was met with this feeling I could only describe as fate. He had these hazel eyes, golden curly hair, and such an awkward demeanor that it almost rivaled my own. I felt a tinge of pink cross my cheeks and I immediately turned my attention back to the copy of “The Lord of the Rings” lying in my hand. I put it back on the clean wooden shelf as I heard Lennon greet the man who had just walked in. As much as I tried to keep to myself and focus on my task, I was listening out for where he went in the store. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, he didn’t go down the fantasy aisle. I see his tall figure through the space in the books as he checks out and leaves. It felt like I had just had the wind knocked out of me just by him standing there, my heart rate a little elevated and a clear amount of blood rushing to my cheeks.

Lennon never let me live it down.

It only got worse over the next coming weeks, when this mystery man I was swooning over kept coming in. And I avoided him every time. I learned through Lennon (my little stalker) that his name was Spencer Reid. Spencer was always very kind to Rose whenever he was there, oftentimes humoring the old woman’s ramblings with some of his own. I mean, it was like he wanted me to fall for him. His presence made the once dusty and desolate bookstore more warm and lively than it had ever been.

But he never spoke to me.

Or I didn’t speak to him, rather. I was too scared I’d stumble over my own words and lose him before I even had him.

But like clockwork, with the chime of the bell, Spencer was in my store again. Only there was an issue. It was close to closing time, and I had let Lennon go home early that day as he had a nasty cold and I was too much of a germaphobe to approve of him being in the store. And not just that, Rose had gone home too because her daughter was visiting for the weekend. So there I was, standing at my least favorite place in the world, the cash register, making brief eye contact with the man I had been gushing over (but never actually talked to) for almost 3 months, completely alone. I was fucked.

He flashed me an awkward smile and a wave before going down the small science and math section we had. As soon as he was out of sight, I was frantically texting Lennon who told me to: 

“Grow some balls”

Good advice, actually. I waited, tapping my nails on the register as I debated going to see if he needed help with anything. But before I could even finish that thought, there he was, with a stack of maybe 4 or 5 books in his hand. How my mystery man went through books so fast, I didn’t know. But I wanted to know.

I smiled at him and started scanning one of the books-“Cosmos” by Carl Sagan. Then, I went for it. Months of pining and crushing had led up to this moment. 

“Did you find everything alright today?”

Well…at least I said something.

His eyes, one of the many things about him that entranced me, met mine. He nodded and smiled softly. I swear I could’ve died happy right then and there.

“Yeah…you guys have a great store here.” 

I smile and scan another book.

“Thank you! It’s-well, I’m the owner.” 

“Really? Wow-I didn’t know. I never usually see you when i come in.”

I smile more awkwardly as I scan another book from his stack.

“Yeah, yeah. Usually, I keep to the back. The register is not my thing.”

“Well, you’re doing great. With everything. Seriously, this is the best bookstore in town. I’m surprised you don’t get more customers.”

I blush more obviously than I would’ve liked. I scan the last book and start ringing him up. He pays in cash. 

“You’re very kind. I-we, love seeing you in here.”

Nice save. 

He takes his bag, full to the brim with books, and looks at me for a moment. Just looks. Suddenly I was very aware of how I looked, My jeans were a little too worn, my sweater had a small paint stain on it, and my hair slicked back into a bun as I hadn’t washed it yet. But his eyes were kind, not judging. My heart was beating and all of a sudden, I knew something. Something I couldn’t quite place my finger in. 

He gives a small wave, and I give one back, offering a quiet goodbye. 

But just as he’s about to leave, I hear a sentence that would haunt me forever.

“You should work the register more often instead of hiding behind the bookshelves.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #x reader #spencer x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #mgg #multi chapter #multi chap fic #first chapter #spencer reid fluff #Spencer reid #☆wykyk

[haee-elia]

spence-tober: day 31 - bookshop owner

pairing: bookshop owner!spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: in which you bring your newborn son to your husband's bookshop as a midday surprise

word count: 1292

warnings: fluff, talks of children, pregnancy, mentions of labor, bedrest, formula, pump for breastfeeding

spence-tober masterlist

The familiar ding alert of the bell above the door as you opened it was like music to your ears. It had been far too long since you had stepped foot into the homey feeling bookshop and you didn’t realise how much you missed it until you took in the sight you’d seen so many times before.

The lines and aisles of bookshelves to the right and left of you are abundant, but not overcrowding the space in the small storefront. There’s a small lending library in the front window next to the children’s reading space and a counter in the middle with curtains hanging on the wall, leading to the back where you know categorizing and inventory goes on.

“Welco-” The voice belonging to your husband starts to say, his voice ringing out in the room for everyone to hear. 

Spencer had his nose in a book, sitting behind the counter on a comfortable stool waiting for customers or anyone else who needed assistance in the store. When he looked up to greet the patron of the store, his eyes instead met yours. His darling wife of six years. 

However, his eyes didn’t stay on your form for very long, straying to the bundle all swaddled up in a travel car seat that hung from your arms. 

Your’s and Spencer’s newborn son, Gideon Reid, sleeping away in a swaddle unknown to his new surroundings. The tiny small baby with a little hat around tucked at his ears to keep him warm and a cute outfit that you had dressed him in just before leaving the house.

“Oh!” Spencer says in an adoring tone. Quickly he puts down his book and moves around the counter to come towards the two of you. 

“What are you doing here?” He whispers as he reaches you at the front of the store. Spencer pulls you in for a sweet kiss and then moves his attention to the car seat, taking it gently in his arms and gazing down at his son. He’s switched to a lower volume to not disturb the sleeping newborn.

In the last stage of your pregnancy, it was getting harder and harder for you to travel to the bookstore which you hated. But when your doctor prescribed bedrest for the last month of your pregnancy, Spencer had put his foot down and practically bound you to the bed, getting everything you need so you wouldn’t wear yourself out or go into early labor.

You smile at your husband who’s looked back to you, a large teethy grin, “I wanted to surprise you.” 

Spencer presses another sweet kiss to your lips before reaching behind you to flip the sign hanging at the front of the door to ‘closed’ before taking your hand and Gideon in his car seat and leading the both of you to the back of the store.

The bedrest had worked. You had a relatively fine labor, for how fine labor could be. Your recovery was okay and Spencer had been a big help with taking care of you and Gideon when you first came home from the hospital. Even though Gideon is your first baby, Spencer’s dad instincts kicked in and he instantly was so good with baby Gideon.

“Thank you for the surprise.” Spencer says genuinely before scooping his large hands into the car seat and gently hoisting the still sleeping Gideon to his chest, coddling him close.

You take your phone out of the large diaper bag you carry with you and snap a quick photo of your husband and your son together. Then, you take in the rest of the familiar sight that is Diana’s Library, the bookshop your husband had bought had renovated over the past four years. His former mentor and your son’s namesake, Jason Gideon, had retired and given his best employee, your husband, first right to buy what was the previous space known as Jason’s Library. Since then, Spencer had dedicated it to his mother and worked to make the bookshop of his dreams. 

You had contributed as well, putting together bookshelves and cabinets on your free weekends and scouring old second hand books online to add to the library. And when you and Spencer discovered you were pregnant, you also did most of the revamping of the old reading nook to a child friendly reading space. All of this is why you were so pouty when you were placed on bedrest and you couldn’t return to the warm and cozy environment you had grown to love so much.

“I thought it would be nice to visit.” You comment as Spencer rocks back and forth with your sleeping son on his chest. You reach your hand and fix your husband’s glasses that have slid down on his nose.

Spencer smiles back at you, his eyes gleaming with delight, “And you’re feeling okay?” he checks in.

You nod, “Yeah, I am. Took a shower, did some chores around the house.” You list.

“Don’t strain yourself.” Spencer warns, concern in his voice.

“I won’t.” You promise to him, “Besides, I just wanted to get out of the house.”

“You mean that you missed your chair here.” Spencer corrects, a joking tone in his voice and a matching visage in his eyes.

You scoff at his remark, though not denying it, “I don’t know why you couldn’t have asked Derek for his truck so we could bring it to the house.”

“Because you ordered one for the house! We’d have to move it back here!” He laughs. The laughter has jostled Gideon and he slowly wakens from his peaceful slumber despite the small pats Spencer gives on his back. 

You purse your lips, “But it’s on backorder and won’t be in for another five months.” You complain and pout. 

Spencer laughs at your not-so-serious expression. You take your hand and reach out again, this time adjusting the knit cap on your son’s head to not cover over his eyes. It let’s your son, for the very first time, take in the surroundings that you know he’ll get to know very well in his childhood to come.

Gideon, now awake and alert, moves his head around and by the look on his face, isn’t very happy. Both Spencer and you clock this.

“I just changed his diaper before leaving the house, so he should be good.” You inform your husband.

“Is he maybe hungry?” Spencer says, rocking him back and forth more quickly now. He looks at his son inquisitively, trying to figure out the solution to his grump face that you both know will turn into a shrill cry very quickly unless handled. The rocking holds his cry at bay for now, but its only a temporary solution.

“Hm, maybe.” You say uncertain.

Spencer’s ready though, he takes the diaper bag from your hand and puts in on a clean countertop behind him. Then he opens the cabinets above and you smile to yourself at the sight you see.

“You have a spare pump and formula here?” You say, your heart warming at the sweet sight in front of you. This just confirms to you that you have the best partner ever.

“Of course!” Your husband responds, bringing both down from the cabinet to the counter for you, “This is like our second home. I have a travel crib too if he gets sleepy.”

You pull him in again for a kiss, a longer one this time, and you make sure that you put all the love and emotion you hold for him. As you pull back, you instantly get a gratifying feeling. Being with your husband and your son in your favorite place in the world.

“You are simply the best, Spencer Reid.”

a/n: and this concludes the end of spence-tober 2023! thanks for coming along for the ride, whether this is the first one you've read (check back at the masterlist for more), if you've joined midway, or if you've been here since the beginning!

i'll admit, writing and posting every single day has been a little stressful and finishing writing challenges like these can be hard and taxing, especially with how unexpected life can get. i'll be posting some behind the scenes sometime later this week or next and then i might announce some new things coming soon too!

#criminal minds #criminalminds #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fluff #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid au #spencer reid fanfic

[sailortongue]

As YOU Wish

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

wc: 1.1k

summary: on the search for a particular book, you have a brief encounter with the owner of a local bookstore. But perhaps the ex-FBI agent also finds himself in search of something more after meeting you

cw: based on the netflix show You so Spencer is a red flag here

an: my cousin wrote the summary and it sounds so cute i had half a mind to rewrite this to just be an innocent meet cute

--------

The bell above the door chimed, signaling to Spencer that a customer had arrived—the first of the day, actually. He glanced up from the register to see a young woman about his age enter. Beautiful, he thought. He was taking in every aspect of your appearance as quickly as he could. The way you styled your hair, the color of your eyes, the worn-out pair of Converse that rivaled his own pair. He shook his head once to clear his thoughts, not wanting to embarrass himself before he even had the chance to ask for your name.

He plastered a smile on his face and greeted you with a “good morning”.

“Good morning,” you said, returning the smile.

Spencer watched you roam around the store, seemingly browsing more than looking for anything in particular. He noticed the way you gently ran your fingers over the spines of some of the books before pulling them from the shelves to read their summaries. Definitely cherishes her books. But no matter what book you pulled, it was always returned to its place. Spencer began taking notice of the way your eyes roved the many titles available, a small frown becoming more and more prominent the more you looked. Maybe you are looking for something. He voiced his thoughts aloud and called out, “Can I help you find anything?”

You turned to face the admittedly very handsome employee. The smile you gave him this time was one of embarrassment, feeling unreasonably foolish that he’d noticed you struggling to find what you were looking for. From Spencer’s point of view though, that embarrassment looked an awful lot like shyness, which was easily interpreted as interest. Hopefully as much as he had in you.

“Yes, please. I’m trying to find The Princess Bride,” you answered.

Spencer thought about it for a moment, trying to remember if it was in the fantasy, adventure, or romance section. “It is . . .” he started, dragging out the last syllable as he walked farther into the shelves with you following close behind. “right here,” he finished, gesturing to the book in question.

“Thank you!” you exclaimed excitedly. Just before you were going to reach for it, an idea struck you. You hoped and prayed that he’d understand, otherwise you’d just be embarrassing yourself again. Should that happen, you'd simply never come back to this store and would probably dwell on it for the rest of your life. You decided to take the chance anyway. “Fetch me that book?” you asked him.

Spencer looked at you incredulously. Is she serious? The shelf is barely above her head, she could reach it with no pro— 

He chuckled as he realized what you were referencing. He grinned down at you as he pulled the book from the shelf. “As you wish.”

You giggled as he handed it to you. “So happy you understood that. I think I would have died of shame if you didn’t.”

That got a true laugh out of the handsome man.  “I’ll admit it took me a second to get it, but that was perfect. Have you read it before or just watched the movie?”

“I’ve read it before, but my copy has up and vanished. It’s one of my favorites, so it was imperative that I get another one.”

He nods as if in understanding but his expression is one of confusion. “If it’s one of your favorites, then how did you lose it?”

“I just moved here recently. Went through all of my boxes but still can’t find it, so I’ve chalked it up to it getting lost in the move.”

“Well then, I’m glad to have been of assistance. Is that all you were looking for today?”

“For today, yes, but I’ll definitely be back. I don't think I’ve ever been in a bookstore as cozy as this one.”

Spencer beamed at you, pleased with your praise of the shop he’d worked so hard to establish. “Thank you. I worked very hard to make it that way.”

You looked at him quizzically. “You designed the shop?”

“No, I own it,” he said humorously. “Spencer Reid, owner of Reid’s Reads. It’s nice to meet you,” he introduced himself, even going as far as to offer you his hand, which ordinarily he’d never do. But the thought of initiating any kind of skin-to-skin contact was too thrilling to pass up.

“I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you, too,” you said, shaking the hand he’d offered.

“If that’s all you need then I can go ahead and get you checked out?” His eyes were wide and expressive as he looked to you for confirmation.

“Oh. Right.” Heat rose to your cheeks unbidden and you tried your best to keep your emotions in check. But unbeknownst to you, Spencer was a former FBI agent that specialized in such things, not to mention a certified genius. How cute. She’s blushing again. He also took note of the poorly hidden upturn of your lips. Why so shy? Just smile at me, sweetheart. 

He gestured for you to walk ahead of him. “Ladies first.”

He followed behind you to the register, glad for the opportunity to check you out in more ways than one.

You placed the book on the counter, and Spencer resumed his position behind the register. He scanned the book and read out the price to you. Pay with a card. Pay with a card. Pay with a card. he chanted mentally. 

Bingo. You pulled the piece of plastic from your wallet and handed it to him. He read the name as subtly as he could. You’d given him your first name, but a first name wouldn't be enough to find you online. He swiped your card and bagged your book, making sure to let his hand brush against yours as he handed the items to you.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/n. Do come again.”

“Oh, I will. Have a good day!” you said as you were leaving, giving him a small wave. The bell chimed as the door was opened again, and his eyes remained on your figure as he watched you through the large windows at the front of the store until you were out of sight.

With your full name now committed to memory, he planned on finding every trace of you online that he could as soon as he was home from work. He was no Penelope Garcia, but this wasn't something he particularly wanted the FBI involved in.

And so, for the rest of the day, his thoughts were consumed with only one thing: you.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Amplification: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Summary: A deadly spread of Anthrax is going around infecting and killing people. One of your own is affected that completely tears your world into two. How will you over come this?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

The bookstore has been closed ever since Albert died, and Gayle's purchase happened right before it closed down. It would explain why only three people were hit, and when General Whitworth sent his men in for testing, they came back positive for Anthrax.

Albert's bookstore was the unsub's test run. He's gotta have a history with the place, so Penelope needs to come up with a list of present and past employees of the place, customers with grievances against the owner, and if any of them had a science background.

An attack of Anthrax isn't meant to kill three people inside a bookstore, it wants to be out in the open where it can feed and multiply in the way that it wants to. Just a small amount can wipe everyone out, and they'd never see it coming.

Another hour goes by and the six survivors of the attack are now down to four. This attack is killing people left and right and there is nothing you can do about it. The more they die off, the more family members demand answers for what's happening.

"It feels like the plague of Egypt," Linda says.

"Ten scourges created by God. Plague six was unhealable boils believed by biblical scholars to be caused by Anthrax."

"You never missed Sunday school, did you?"

"Actually, I've never been before. How is she doing?" Spencer asks about Abby.

"She's a fighter. She's held on this long because she's young and strong, but she's started to bleed into her lungs. We're running into another problem, though. When the next of kin have questions, what do we tell them about the cause of death?"

That is a question only Hotch and General Whitworth can answer. You can't tell anyone anything without punishment if it didn't come from Hotch. Instead of thinking things like that, you can try and think of the unsub and profile you have on him. It might help your team catch whoever is doing this.

Because the locations aren't symbolically significant, the attacks are personal. Understanding the significance of the locations will be the key to identifying the unsub.

This personal element strongly indicates a home-grown terrorist like the Amerithrax case. This is someone from the science or defense community. That's why the CIA is here. Hotch thinks they may know him. These home-grown terrorists are myopic zealots that believe that their work is of the greatest importance.

He may have preached about the threat of an attack on America. His coworkers would describe him as histrionic, paranoid, and secretive. He may have logged excess hours at work in the past weeks preparing for the attack. He even might have taken the full dosage of Anthrax vaccines over the recommended eighteen-month schedule and had yearly boosters.

This guy has his own workspace where he makes his product in privacy. He also has access to large, expensive, industrial-grade equipment at work. He's written about the threats of Anthrax attacks and published papers about it, yet he feels no one is listening, and that angers him. Now, he may have recently experienced some sort of professional humiliation like being demoted or fired. Now, that would have been his trigger, the moment he decided to go rogue.

He may have betrayed his loved ones to his cause and may be recently separated or divorced. This is somebody who knows every detail of the 2001 Anthrax attack and has talked about what that suspect did right or wrong. He's watching the news very closely to see how the country reacts, and it's not a good one.

The CIA dug deep into their records and found a video of a classified hearing with the Subcommittee on Defense and Homeland Security in January of 2002. Dr. Lawrence Nichols used to work at the institution and left in 2002. The video is sent to your team at the hospital, Derek's team in Maryland, and the main office with everyone else. You and Spencer go into an empty hospital room to watch the video. Dr. Nichols went to the Senator to ask for money for a project he wanted to do with dangerous chemicals. He went to talk to the Senator about the attack in 2001 and why he should have funding for his project.

"Five people died. If you ask me, we're lucky it was just five. We're lucky that whoever sent these letters used cheap porous envelopes and not a crop duster. America's enemies are capable of wiping out entire cities, and we are woefully unprepared."

"I'm looking at your proposal--"

"Yes, sir," Dr. Nichols cuts the Senator off. "Every household needs gas masks and a two-month supply of Cipro for each resident. Every major city needs hospitals with bio-safety decontamination capabilities."

"Regarding the budget you propose for this operation--"

"Anything short of fifty billion would be grossly negligent."

"Dr. Nichols, you've got to realize how unrealistic that is. We can't justify spending that kind of money on an attack that may not happen."

"You people are in denial!" Dr. Nichols exclaims.

"Doing this would incite fear and panic among the public."

"This country should be panicked! We should live in utter fear of being attacked! We live in a time of war and WMD proliferation. If you continue to be blind to our lack of preparedness, then Americans will die, and I will have no problem in pointing the blame at you!"

The committee didn't fund his project and rejected him because he was becoming unstable and fanatical, which is why they removed him from Fort Detrick and blacklisted him from other prominent positions. Even though he believes in preparedness, he felt like people weren't listening. He might have done this to prove a point.

He fits the profile of the unsub to a T. He had access to research on Anthrax, had the resources available to do something like this, lost a highly respected job, and got divorced in the process. The job he has now is through a company called Bio-Design Technology that doesn't deal with Anthrax but with the Flu. If he got demoted from working with such deadly diseases to working with the flu, he might be angry enough to use Anthrax as a weapon.

Either way, you need to bring him in.

Derek pulled you and Spencer from the hospital to go to his house while Emily and Rossi went to his work to see if he was there. Along with you, Spencer, and Derek, a hazmat team joined you so they can clear the inside of his house. You have to wait outside until they're done with their investigation.

"It's clear so far," one of the members says when he hears from one of his men inside.

"Alright, keep me posted." Derek turns to you and Spencer. "This guy just had people over for a charity event last month."

"We should probably take a look around anyway."

You three walk to the backside of the property when Spencer hisses in pain. You look over to see rose bushes with thorns sticking out of the stems. He must have cut himself on the thorns but isn't too concerned about it. For someone who messes with Anthrax, his backyard isn't too sketchy. There is a pool with a beautiful gazebo area and lots of blooming flowers. Derek's phone rings and he answers whoever it is.

"Yeah, Princess, what's up? ... Uh-huh. Yeah, we're here now. ... Sorry. what? The lab is clean? ... You're sure? ... All right." You watch Derek as he talks to Emily. You're not paying attention to Spencer who goes off on his own. He turns to you and Spencer to tell you what she said. "They got nothin'--Where's Reid?"

You look behind you to see Spencer run into the large shed in the backyard. You and Derek quickly follow after him, but he slams the glass door to keep you and Derek out of some kind of lab.

"Spencer!" you gasp.

"Morgan! Y/N! Get back!"

"What the hell are you doing? What's wrong?"

"Believe me, get back."

"Reid, open this door!"

"Spencer, open the damn door!" you yell and slam your hands on the glass.

"I'm sorry. You can't come in here."

"No, open the door," you whimper. The only reason he would be trapped inside there and refuses to let anyone inside is that this is the place where Dr. Nichols created his Anthrax poison. "Spencer, no, open the door."

"I'm sorry," he sighs.

"Come on," Derek says and puts his hands on your shoulders.

"No!" you gasp. "I can't leave him. I'm not leaving him. Call Hotch and get people out here now! I'm not going anywhere!"

Derek has no choice but to listen to you. He needs people out here now if Spencer has any hope of making it out of this alive. Derek leaves and gets Hotch on the phone, and you look at your boyfriend with tears in your eyes.

"Open this door, Spencer, or I'm gonna break it."

"Don't, Y/N. There is white powder in here, and the air is blasting."

You let out a heartbreaking sob and put your hands to your mouth to quiet them. Spencer's heart breaks at the sight of you crying for him. Hotch and the biohazard team arrive quicker than you thought they would, and Derek tells Hotch where you are.

"Y/N, get out of there."

"I can't leave him," you cry. "I'm not leaving him alone!"

"Please don't cry."

"Spencer, I've seen what this does to people. There has not been one survivor and you're infected now. If the cure is not in there, then you're gonna..." You can't even say it. "I can't lose you. I love you so much."

You place your hand flat on the glass and Spencer puts his hand over yours.

"You need to get out of here."

"I can't leave you!"

"I will be fine."

He doesn't believe what he's telling you because he doesn't know if he's going to make it out of here alive or not. He's lying to protect your feelings but he forgets that you can tell when someone is lying. Your chest feels heavy and your whole body is shaking from fear. Your legs can't hold you up any longer so you fall to the ground in a heap of tears. Someone from the biohazard team comes in and places their hand on your shoulder.

"Ma'am, you need to leave."

"Y/N, listen to them."

"Spencer," you gasp.

The man practically forces you out of the shed to where Hotch and Derek are. Derek catches you when your legs wobble.

"I need to be in there, please. I can't leave him alone. He's scared, Hotch," you cry.

"Y/N, you need to calm down."

"I can't," you hiccup. "I can't lose him."

Hotch needs you to calm down so he calls Spencer and places him on speakerphone so you can hear his voice.

"Hotch, I really messed up this time," Spencer sighs.

"Reid, we need to get you out and to the hospital."

"No, I'm staying right here."

The tears won't stop rolling down your cheeks.

"No, Spencer, please leave. You need medical attention," you cry. "Please!"

"Y/N, I'm already exposed. It's not gonna do me any good to stop working on the case."

"He's already infected," General Whitworth says. "If Nichols created the strain, he may have also created the cure."

"Look, Dr. Nichols is in here but he's dead. Someone must have bashed something in his head. My best chance is to stay here, see if there's a cure, and try to figure out who killed Dr. Nichols."

"Hotch, say something to him!"

"He's right. His best chance is inside. We're gonna get a suit and mask into you right away."

"Don't bother. it's not gonna do me any good. I'm already infected."

This thing killed the first three victims within hours.

The thought of losing Spencer is something you can't even fathom. The thought hurts too much, and your chest starts closing up.

x

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #series rewrite #cm season 4

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

In The Middle Of The Night

Summary: Spencer has an unforgettable encounter with the bookstore owner after hours.

Minors DNI/NSFW Content Warnings: Daddy Kink, penetrative sex without a condom, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink, spitting kink, mention of Shibari

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (She/Her) | SMUT 18+

Word Count: 3300

Note: This is my first time writing daddy kink so please don’t make fun of me (im being serious…) But I hope you enjoy this!

In The Middle Of The Night...

Cleaning up for a bookstore that found itself filled with people of all walks of life was surprisingly peaceful. She reshelved the stray books, returning them to their designated place and taking a couple moments to collect inventory for her next ordering day. Recently, teenagers are liking fantasy books about immortal vampires and the elderly couple that came in every Thursday favored travel books about South East Asia. 

The Corner Book Shoppe, passed down from mother to daughter for the last four generations, was Y/N’s favorite place to be. Despite the sign on the door instructing customers that the store was closed for the night, a tall and ridiculously attractive man with shaggy brown hair knocked on the glass door. 

“We’re closed.” Y/N told the man, taking in his disheveled handsome appearance. A once five-o’clock shadow, now well into stubble, dusted his face. His eyes looked tired, but there was something else hidden behind the way he gazed down at her. “You can come back tomorrow.” 

The man smirked, leaning against the wooden door frame at the entrance. “What? You can’t make an exception for me?” 

Her resolve, unsurprisingly, was melting. The man’s soulful brown eyes bore fire straight into her heart. He knew, somehow, just the way to look at her to make her completely weak in the knees. His eyes were like liquor and his body shimmering with a golden hue from the bookstore’s golden light. 

“Make it quick.” 

“I’m just here to come and go.” The man teased, the playfulness in his voice making her entire body flush under the spotlight of his glare. “Do you have any books on shibari? I really don’t like shopping at the chain bookstore. You really gotta keep little gems like these alive.” 

“Shibari?” she asked, eyes daring to meet his observant gaze, “You mean like the–” 

“Japanese bondage? Yeah.” He explained, following Y/N down through the stacks and stacks of books. She kept the second-hand books near the front, since she always did discounts on them throughout the week. 

“I’m Y/N, by the way. I mean if I know you’re trying to get into shibari, I mean I should at least know your name.” 

“Spencer. And I promise it’s for a work thing.” 

“Do I even want to know what you do for work?” Y/N asked, looking back and meeting her eyes with the man’s. He chuckled, the rich, silky sound echoing in the tall stacks of books. The sound went straight through her, making her yearn for something that she didn’t even think she could want. 

“It’s not for me,” The man explained, “It’s for my coworker. I don’t need the book to know the basics about shibari.” 

“Is that so?” she asked, back now flush against the bookcase. An armchair was to her left and the vintage lamp casted dark shadows on Spencer’s golden face. He looked like he was preserved in time, his features tranquil and peaceful, yet smoldering with desire and passion. “You don’t look like the type to know much about that.” 

“Is that so, sweetheart?” Spencer whispered, his hands hovered over her hip bones, waiting for her permission to touch her. His face dipped down, so his breath was hot against her neck, drawing her in with every chuckle and calculated smirk. “You don’t seem like the type either, but I have a feeling you’re quite the little minx.” 

“Are you going to do anything about it?” She challenged, eyes finally daring to stare down Spencer’s eyes. The yellow light from the lamp lit their night cloaked encounter. Spencer’s lips floated above her’s, daring her to beg him for her. He leaned forward, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume on her skin, and pressed his lips lightly against her’s. Spencer’s feather light kisses only proved to increase her need for him to touch her. 

“Come sit on my lap, sweetheart,” Spencer whispered, leaving a trail of wet, opened mouth kisses along her neck and jawline. Y/N could feel him smirk against her skin as she groaned at his words. Her hands knotted his hair, listening to him as he guided them to the armchair. 

Settled in the chair, Spencer’s fingers ghosted against her neck before they caught on the glittering gold necklace that rested against her collarbone. He pulled the necklace forward, marveling at her whimper as her body fell towards him. His lips slotted against hers again, capturing her in yet another searing kiss. Y/N melted into the kiss, losing herself in the way Spencer’s hands crawled up her back, claiming the expanse of her skin for his and his alone. 

“That’s a good girl.” Spencer hummed into her ear, “One kiss and you’re a good little girl for me. So pilant. So perfect.” 

She whined into Spencer’s neck, leaving kisses and marks of her own making against his flushed skin. His stubble was rough against her smooth skin, making her feel more raw and vulnerable under his already blistering gaze. His hands spread out across her neck, fingertips leaving heat-soaked touches that were followed by open mouthed kisses. She could feel his breath in her ear, counting the times his chest rose, forcing their two bodies to arch closer than before.

“Daddy please,” she whimpered, her hands forming fists around the fabric of Spencer's shirt. She could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest, beckoning her toward him like a light at the end of a dark and deep tunnel. She wrinkled his shirt, secretly like the way his appearance grew more and more disheveled as time unfolded. 

“Daddy, huh,” Spencer whispered. His voice was charismatic, an aphrodisiac that threatened to make her head spin around and around again. Spencer’s lips melted the walls she put up, breaking them down in one kiss to her temple. His lips are like fire, like molten lava that drips down the curve of her lip, over the slope of her neck, and the sharpness of her collarbone. He’s everywhere and nowhere at once. 

“Yeah,” she confirmed, a shyness patablable in her timid tone. It was like every nerve in her body was lit on fire. She felt it build and build like an orchestra’s crescendo in her belly as Spencer’s nimble fingers twisted around her hips and ventured lower and lower to her thighs. 

Spencer’s hands slapped against her legs lightly, silently instructing her to stand. On wobbly legs, she followed his directions, earning a sly, yet devilishly charming smirk. His hands worked her jean’s button fly, undoing them and dragging them to her ankles. Spencer’s eyes ranked over her legs, scanning and taking in the bareness of her soft skin. He trailed a single finger from her ankle. It was like her spine was electrified, watching his long, most-definitely skilled finger travel up her kneecaps, her thighs and wrap around, deliciously, her waistband. 

“Already soaked for me,” Spencer tutted, his tongue peaking out from in between his teeth. An air of confidence radiated off him as he tugged off her underwear. “Let’s see how pretty you look sitting on my cock,”

She bit her lip, a cautionary measure to prevent herself from sounding as desperate as her mind and body felt. Spencer’s hands, warm and large, gripped the fleshy part of her hips, hauling her back towards his lap. He had already undid his pants, his belt lying forgotten at his side. Hungry, Spencer licked his lips, pink tongue jutting out again as a sinful promise of what was to come. He winked and it was like they had a secret world together with words and languages and colors they couldn’t hear or see without anyone else. 

“Please hurry, daddy,” she whimpered, the crude name sounding playful and teasing from her mouth. He pressed kisses against her soft stomach, face and hands hidden under her tee-shirt. She took it off, revealing his messy hair even more disheveled from the fabric of her shirt. 

“Good girls are patient,” Spencer reminded her, “Are you going to be a good girl for me? Or am I going to have to make you be a good girl for me?” he asked, not really giving her a choice in the matter. Her heart rose to her throat and butterflies took home in her belly as Spencer’s hands guided her to his lap again. She felt him against her thighs, hard and warm, desiring her like no one else ever had and perhaps ever will. 

“I’m gonna be a good girl, daddy,” she promised, sin dripping from her lips as she took his face in between her hands and kissed his temples. 

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you.” Spencer gathered, his hands wrapping around her waist, finally bringing their two bodies together in a motion that was too godly to be considered a sin. Him touching her was like reaching Heaven itself. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne. “That’s it, pretty girl. Fuck youself on my cock.” 

Her heart skipped a beat as his dirty words contrasted the soft pecks he placed at the base of her throat. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” Y/N complained, the slight whine in her voice making Spencer dig his fingers so deep into her skin he’s bound to leave bruises, “so fucking crazy.” She cursed, leaning into kiss Spencer, already craving the pressure of his mouth against her mouth. 

“Language.” Spencer corrected, confidence and certainty coloring his beautiful face. “Or am I going to have to punish you for being a wanton little slut?” 

“No, no, please I’ll be a good girl, I’ll be a good girl for you, daddy.” Y/N said, the desperation in her voice hung tense in the air between them. 

“I know you will, sweet girl. You make me very happy seeing you bounce on my cock like a cute little bunny.” 

He stroked her cheek with the back of his right hand, the left hand slid between where they bodies met, finally giving into the fiery desire that drove her to the edge of desperation. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed, finding intimacy and safety in the small gesture. She groaned at the feeling of Spencer’s long fingers casting shockwaves of pleasure and tilted her head to place kisses against the palm of his hand. 

“See? Now that’s a good girl. So soft and good for me.” Spencer praised. His eyebrow raised cockily as he slid himself into her without a second thought. “What a slut, letting me fuck you without a condom. I’m sure you like this, you filthy cumslut. Getting me to fill you up,” 

His words made her face flush as she continued her momentum. Y/N looked down, taken aback at the sordid site before her. Spencer caught on, snaking his hand around the base of her throat forcing her to watch every time he disappeared inside her. 

“You-you’re so deep.” She moaned. She tried to come up with something else to say, but from the way Spencer’s hands dictated her movements and his words left bruising thumbprints against her mind, she was a puddle lacking any form of resolve. “You fill me up so good, so full.” 

She felt the familiar feeling of warmth and impatience build inside her body, threatening to release untamed and relentless. Spencer's thumb and index finger circled her clit, bringing her closer and closer to release. His hand gripped her jaw, forcing her face to morph into a look of bewilderment. 

“Come on pretty girl, let daddy see your tongue.” He requested, chuckling darkly as she compiled without hesitation. “So fucking greedy.” He added, mostly to himself as their eyes met in the dimly lit backroom. 

Y/N groaned shamelessly as she watched the string of saliva leave Spencer’s mouth and land on her waiting tongue. Spencer took advantage of her moment of deep desire, pressing wet, open mouth kisses to her espoused throat. She could feel his hot mouth and sharp teeth suck and scrap against her pulse points. His ministrations made her yelp with pleasure, which, in turn earned a confident smirk from Spencer. 

“That feels good doesn't it, sweet thing?” Spencer tutted, “You ready to come on my cock? Hmm..” 

The world, their little world filled with antique lamps that casted a warm yellow light and used books from floor to ceiling, grew fussy around the edges as Spencer’s hands and tongue and lips and just about everything about him drove her completely mad. She felt her release come, she felt the high build and build until her legs felt like uncaptured Jello and her throat raw from holding in the noises she stifled.

“That’s it. That’s how a good girl comes fucking herself silly on my cock.” Spencer said, his voice raspier than before, a hint that he too was reaching his climax. She took it upon herself to help Spencer reach that high faster than he may have anticipated. Holding him by the waist, Y/N planted kisses along Spencer’s jawbone, revealing how his blush matched the pink lipstick that rubbed off on his face. His eyes were heavy with pleasure and his breathy moans threatened to make her beg for another orgasm, even if she knew he’d split her in half if she asked. 

“You’re so….you fill me up so good, daddy.” She encouraged her sweet, saccharine voice pushing Spencer further and further to his release. “Daddy fucks me so well, he’s going to make me a mommy.” 

“You’re a little minx, you know that right?” Spencer smirked, his thrusts completely calculated as Y/N returned the cocky look. “So fucking greedy for me to come into my pussy. You’ll say anything to get your way.” 

“Don’t you want to see my pussy dripping with your cum?” Y/N asked, her skin unbearably hot and sweaty pressed up against Spencer’s torso. His hands pawed at her breasts, exploring the softness of her body with the tenderness of a devout man. “Don’t you want to fuck it back into me, making sure there’s not a drop leftover?” 

Stunned into silence, Spencer’s mouth hung open much to Y/N’s enjoyment. He let out a guttural groan as she continued to bounce up and down on his cock, clearly chasing another orgasm. Spencer looked up grinning like the devil, a sign to Y/N that he wasn’t going to take it easy on her. He held himself deep inside her, casting circles around and around her clit. She bit her lip, attempting to contain her pleasure.  

“If you’re going to act like a greedy fucking whore, I’m goint to treat you like a greedy fucking whore. You can give me one more, can’t you?” 

She knew it was impossible, she knew it was a little fantastical to think so, but it was like time, for a moment simply stopped. All she felt was the burn of her exhausted muscles, Spencer’s soft, yet strong thighs against her skin, his hands burrowing so deep into her hip she thought he might just disappear all together. He kissed. Once. Twice. Thrice. Many times. So many times that she lost count. 

Y/N held her breath, observing with reverence as the tension built till it could no longer handle the inevitable crash. Spencer’s hair, unruly and sweaty, stuck to his forehead. With a moan half crazed with desire half laden with arousal is like an electric shock to her entire system. She whispers words that she knew would make him swat at her ass if he wasn’t carried away by pleasure and bliss. 

“That’s it, daddy. Filling me up so good.” 

Spencer placed his hand on her lower stomach as if he could feel himself through her. His calloused thumbs drew stars against her skin, marking the vulnerable spots of her body as something beautiful, something deserving of tenderness. 

“Fucking hell–” 

Her breath hitched in her throat, caught off when she felt the warmth spreading between their bodies. It was like gentle waves from the ocean that lapped the soft sand. Y/N’s body slumped forward against Spencer. Exhaustion flooded her limbs, making them feel numb. Spencer’s deep chuckle vibrated against her chest as they laid in the chair together, a pile of twisted limbs and muscles fated to be sore by morning. 

“You alright?” Spencer asked, “Let me help you clean up. You put washcloths in the bathroom last week, right?” 

“Yeah.” Y/N mumbled, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath that ricocheted off her lips to Spencer’s heart. “I just wanna cuddle my husband for a minute before he’s off cleaning up a mess. But I know. Germs. Even if they’re my germs.” 

“You know me too well.” Spencer deadpanned. The silence filling up the room in a way that said more than words ever could attempt to. 

He helped Y/N to her feet, biting his lips with worry as she winced when she stood. His worry continued as he guided her to the chair he sat at moments before. 

“Right back.” Spencer said, kissing the top of her head as he adjusted his pants and scooped up her clothes. 

He disappeared into the tiny bathroom and Y/N knew him well enough to read the nervousness in his gait. She decided to fix her hair, thinking that she probably looked like she’d be through the ringer, which of course was Spencer’s doing. Even if she enjoyed their more salacious encounters, she knew they usually ended with Spencer dealing with feelings of guilt and worry. 

“And you called me a nerd for bringing PJs to change into.” He walked out from the bathroom, carrying two piles of pajamas in one hand and a wet washcloth in the other. 

“No, my sweet husband. I called you an old man for bringing PJs and a nerd for wanting roleplay by lecturing me about quantum physics.” 

Spencer’s tight-lipped smile broke out into something so goofy and charming, it was hard for Y/N to remain composure. She grabbed Spencer’s hand as he cleaned her inner thighs, bringing his palm to rest against her cheek. 

“I love you.” 

Spencer kissed her once on the middle of her forehead. Two times on each cheek. And then three times on her lips. 

“You’re not a cockslut. Or whatever I called. I–I’m sorry if I got carried away. It’s just. I’m still exploring that part of myself. And with what I see at–” 

“Spencer.” Y/N interjected, wincing because she could hardly remember a time when she interrupted him. She knew he hated that. “Listen to me when I say: I really liked it. I was so into it. It’s hot seeing this side of you. Everyone else gets Dr. Reid the agent. Or Spencer the sweet nerd with sweater vests. But, somehow, I get all the sides of you.”

Spencer nodded, taking in the silence that hung in the air. 

“Besides,” she whispered, getting closer to Spencer though they were the only two people in the store at that hour, “I am a cockslut. Your cockslut.”

Spencer’s lips twitched into an unwilling smile, “Y/N.” He sounded half distressed, half aroused.

And she decided that keeping him on his toes in more than one way was exactly what she wanted for their marriage. 

@reidslovely @reidsbookclub @spencerreidat3am @fightingdragonswithwho @reidslibrarybook @hotchandspencearedilfs @sadgirlml @spencerslibrary @foxy-eva @paperbackprettyboy @alexxavicry @justlivinginadaydream @reidsmilf @mrs-dr-reid @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencerreidsmommy

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut

[ddejavvu]

m.list - spencer reid

❥ - mei’s favorites

☼ - fluff

☾ - angst

✘ - nsfw content, minors please dni

fics:

Passive Aggressive

Souvenirs vs Signatures ✘❥

All I’ve Ever Wanted

Clingy

First Time Jitters

blurbs:

mafia!spencer ✘❥

spencer taking care of reader on her period ☼

office romance with spencer ☼❥

sub!spencer + orgasm denial ✘

spencer + thigh riding ✘❥

enemies to lovers with spencer ☼☾

dom!spencer hcs ✘❥

sub!spencer + degradation ✘

shy sub!spencer ☼

sub!spencer + cockwarming ✘❥

sub!spencer being punished ✘

spencer + period sex ☼✘

sub!spencer + dumbification ✘❥

sub!spencer’s first time ✘❥

reader teaching sub!spencer how to eat her out ✘❥

waking up to spencer grinding on you ✘❥

babysitting with early season spencer ☼❥

types of hugs you’d get from spencer ☾☼❥

spencer + moaning | 2 ✘❥

cottagecore!spencer | 2 | 3 ☼❥

grumpy!reader x sunshine!spencer | 2 ☾☼❥

medical doctor!spencer | 2 | 3 ☾☼

‘I just want to be held for a little while’ with spencer ☼❥

secret relationship with spencer ☼

spencer + spanking ✘

‘I know you hate me, but don’t let me die alone’ with spencer ☾❥

spencer visiting your kindergarten class ☼❥

broadway performer!spencer ☼

heathers au with spencer ☾☼❥

sub!spencer x camgirl!reader ✘❥

regency au with spencer ☼❥

spencer finds out you’re pregnant ☼❥

spencer comforting reader after a bad night ☾☼

spencer comforting reader after a bad day ☾☼

spencer + boobs | 2 ✘❥

being jealous of lila ☾☼❥

friends to lovers with spencer ☼❥

spencer x camgirl!reader ✘

spencer overhears reader singing ☼✘

camboy!spencer ✘❥

unsub!spencer | 2 ☾

‘i just like proving you wrong’ with spencer ☼❥

touch starved spencer ☼❥

spencer being insecure before sex ☾☼✘❥

‘are you jealous?’ with spencer ☾☼❥

reader using their safe word ☾☼✘

spencer + cockwarming ☼✘❥

rockstar!spencer ☼❥

spencer coaxing reader out of subspace ☼✘❥

fairy!spencer ☼❥

dom!spencer + size kink/dumbification ✘

bookstore owner!spencer

scientist!spencer

studio ghibli au with spencer

grumpy!spencer x sunshine!reader | 2

apocalypse au with spencer

brother’s best friend!spencer

spencer + creampie

spencer takes care of you when you get a concussion

spencer x bimbo!reader

falling asleep on the jet with spencer

farmer!spencer

you have narcolepsy

you take spencer to the container store

spencer reads to you when you can’t sleep

spencer helping you with your depression

going undercover with spencer

professor!spencer

spencer’s tall and sweet but you’re short and tough

family friend!spencer

you start your period in spencer’s bed

sending spencer nudes

dad!spencer x daughter!reader

spencer taking care of you when you have a migraine

alpha!spencer

mermaid!spencer

spencer + casual dominance

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

[reidingmelodies]

Finders Keepers

A/N:  It’s been ages since I’ve written anything, so I figured it was about time I got back into it!  Hope you enjoy, any feedback is appreciated :) Warnings: None Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7K

“What’s wrong with you, Pretty Boy?” Morgan questioned as Spencer rushed into the BAU Tuesday morning, fingers threading through his curls and a look of pure agitation gracing his features.  As if he didn’t hear the question directed towards him, Spencer continued to storm through the room, nearly stumbling into Morgan in his quest to reach his desk.

Pupils dilating, Morgan looked towards JJ who had taken stock of the scene from her chair, brows already furrowed and legs moving to stand and head towards her fellow colleague.

Taking the lead, JJ swiftly headed to Spencer’s side, moving to place a hand on his shoulder before thinking better of it and placing both hands on the edge of his desk instead, Mama Bear instincts dialed all the way up.  “Everything okay, Spence?  You seem annoyed.”  

Morgan scoffed before thinking better of it, “I’d say he’s a bit more than annoyed, JJ”.  No sooner than the words had left his mouth he was given a swift elbow in his side from JJ and an eye roll from Spencer and all that was left for Morgan to do was raise his hands in defeat.

Sighing, Spencer turned back to his desk before mumbling a response back to them, “I’m fine, guys.  I think I lost my copy of War and Peace on the Metro this morning.  It was in my bag when I left my place, it must have fallen out when I was trying to grab my umbrella.  I thought maybe I just forgot and left it here, but apparently not”.

“You and I both know you don’t forget anything, Pretty Boy,” Morgan chimed in, visibly less tense now that he knew there wasn’t any immediate danger.

“Actually Morgan that’s not entirely true.  I have an eidetic memory which means-”

“There’s the Reid we all know and love,” JJ chuckled, heading back to her desk to get ready for the day ahead of them.  Morgan followed, leaving the bullpen in search of Garcia and Spencer sighed, trying to move past the fact that one of his favorite books was no longer in his possession.  Logically, he knew he could buy a replacement copy after work, but deep down he knew it wasn’t the same.

The words dancing across the page would be the same ones that brought him entertainment and the comfort found in familiarity throughout his life, but the book within his hands wouldn’t hold the same nostalgic memories.  He wouldn’t look down at the tattered cover and reminisce on his first jet ride with the BAU, thinking back on how he brushed his fingers against the book’s familiar spine while trying to calm his stomach filled with nervous jitters at the prospect of working with unfamiliar people.  He wouldn’t look at the dog-eared pages and remember how the words on those exact pages brought him comfort on nights he would escape to his bedroom and try to leave memories of aggressive classmates and whispering peers behind.  

Any thought of potentially buying a new copy of the book after the workday was dispelled though as Garcia called everyone into the conference room to discuss a pending case in Phoenix, no sooner followed by a “wheels up in thirty” announcement from Hotch.  Grabbing his go-bag and leaving the bullpen, Spencer filled his head with thoughts of the case, half of his brain racing ahead to connect victimology and significant locations while the other half was stuck repeating a never-ending mantra of “it’s just a book” in the back of his mind.

***

As Spencer was boarding a jet to head 468 miles north, Y/N was playing with a loose thread on her sweater, thinking about the long day of work ahead of her.  Breaking her trance, she looked up and instead glanced up at the now empty row of seats in front of her.  Her brows furrowed as she saw a book stuck in the crack between the far left seat cushion and the back of the chair, and before she knew it her curiosity overtook her.  Y/N found herself standing from the seat, travel mug and bag in tow, before reaching for the dictionary-like book that was calling to her.  The title War and Peace glared back at her, and a quick turn of the cover revealed faded words written in blue ink proclaiming that the book was the “Property of Spencer Reid”.   With the announcement of her stop blaring over the loudspeaker and the weight of someone else’s book in their hand, Y/N made a split second decision to stuff the book into her bag, leaving the Metro with not only thoughts of the upcoming workday but visions of whom the mysterious Spencer Reid could be.

The workday passed by slowly, each passing second filled with the overwhelming desire to search for Spencer Reid on Google.  By the time Y/N was on the Metro ride home, any and all motivation to search for the book’s rightful owner went out the door as her irritation grew with the rising heat of the increasingly packed subway car.  Needing a distraction, her hand reached into her bag, initially moving for her cell phone but making a last second switch as her hand brushed the spine of the book.  May as well spend my time doing something productive, she thought as she gently pulled the book out of it’s temporary home.  With a final sigh, she turned to the first page and began to read.

As Y/N was tearing through the pages of War and Peace at an alarmingly quicker rate than she anticipated that night, Spencer was filling out a WMTA lost and found form in the hopes that someone had the decency to return his book.  Knowing his luck, he assumed it was long gone and in the trash somewhere, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to make one last ditch effort at finding it.  Groaning, Spencer called it a night and went to bed, silently vowing to find his book the second he stepped foot off the BAU jet again.        

***

Six days later the BAU team landed in Quantico, making plans to head to a bar for a drink before a well deserved day off.  As designated drivers were assigned and phone calls home were made Spencer gathered his things, making a beeline to the door in the hopes of reaching the WMTA’s designated lost and found area before it closed for the night.  He was a foot away from the door before a soft hand grasped his wrist, immediately stopping him in his tracks.

“Skipping out on the bar tonight, Reid?” Emily questioned, head tilted as she noticed how frazzled her friend was.

“I’m just gonna go home and watch a bit of Dr.Who” Spencer began, desperately trying to think of something that would let him out the door without further questions.  “Speaking of Dr. Who, did you know that it was originally created to be an educational show for kids?  It’s actually really interesting-”

“Say no more, Dr. Reid,” Emily laughed, letting go of his wrist and heading back towards the others, “enjoy your night”.  Spencer tightly smiled, leaving the bullpen and making his way to downtown DC in search of his book.  An hour later and he wasn’t any closer to finding his book, ultimately giving up and heading to the bookstore to buy himself another copy.

It was at that same time JJ and Derek found themselves hysterically laughing at a corner booth in the bar, thinking about how Spencer probably missed out on meeting the love of his life that night- a woman sitting in the booth directly across from them, War and Peace open on the table in front of her and a pen and highlighter busy at work marking up post its that were being meticulously placed on the book’s pages.

***

A month and a half went by and Spencer had officially given up hope on finding his lost book.  In the six weeks since he had last seen it he refrained from reading his new copy, not willing to give up the small amount of hope he had that he would be reunited with his original book.  That evening though, as the Metro had yet another delay and the subway car continued to get hotter and hotter, he figured there was no better time than the present and pulled out his new copy of War and Peace.  A few pages in, a sudden jolt of the car made him glance up and almost immediately he locked eyes with the woman across from him.  In the span of ten seconds, his thoughts ranged from she’s beautiful to hold on- she’s holding my book and before his legs fully alerted his brain what was happening he found himself on his feet and sitting in the empty seat directly next to her.

As Spencer’s brain began to register just how bad of an idea it was to sit next to a stranger as abruptly as he just did, the woman next to him gripped her bag slightly tighter, tilting her head to the side as she peaked a look at the man next to her.

Her mouth opened to speak, but before she could do so Spencer interrupted her, desperately trying to save himself from any embarrassment her words could bring.

“That’s my book,” he bluntly stated, mentally hitting himself as he watched her adorably confused features morph into a look of defense.

“No.. that’s your book,” she pointed down to his lap, where his new copy of War and Peace was resting between his palms.

“No it’s not- well, it is but it isn’t really?” Spencer tried to explain, his face growing more and more red with each word that left his mouth.

“So it’s your book, but not your book?” She questioned, lips curling up into a slight smile as she witnessed the sweet agitation of the man in front of her.

“Yes!  I lost my book on the metro almost two months ago.  This is just my replacement copy, and I don’t know how I know, but I’m positive the book in your hands right now is the one that I lost.”  Spencer finished his spiel, watching as the woman’s eyes widened in realization and her mouth formed an “o” shape.

“You’re Spencer Reid?” she asked, and now it was his turn to play the part of the confused companion.

“I- yes? But, how do you know my name?” As soon as the question left his mouth the image of the title page of his book filled his head and all too soon he was practically yelling with joy in the poor woman’s face.  “Wait, that is my book then!  Does it say Property of Spencer Reid on the cover page?”

The woman laughed, and Spencer watched as any traces of tension left her body.  “I’m so sorry!  I found it on the Metro on my way to work, and I meant to look you up- not in a creepy way,” she continued, growing more flustered with each passing second.  “I was gonna try and find you to return it but then I started reading it and I liked it more than I thought I would and I just,” She stooped, taking a breath and giving him the most adorable set of puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen.  “I’m just really sorry, I shouldn’t have held onto it as long as I did”.  She finished, and held the book up, holding it out towards Spencer’s hands.  “I think this belongs to you”.

“It’s not a problem at all, I promise,” Spencer reassured her with a warm smile on his face, “thanks for keeping it safe”.  Something about her filled his stomach with joy, and as he looked at her he saw a similar smile mirrored back at him.  It was at that moment he knew he would do anything to keep that look of happiness on her face, stranger or not.  “You know what,” he continued, “you should keep it- finders keepers and all that”.

Y/N laughed in disbelief, immediately shaking her head and pushing the book closer to its rightful owner.  “It’s bad enough I’ve had it this long,” she admitted.  “It belongs with you”.

“At least take this one then?”  Spencer’s brain continued to be a few steps ahead of him, and before he knew it he was taking the book in the stranger’s outstretched hands and placing his new copy in her grasp.  “It looks like you still have a hundred pages or so left and I wouldn’t want to keep you from finishing it.  Besides, I definitely don’t need two copies”.

The woman smiled and gave him an enthusiastic nod, and Spencer couldn’t help but think he just made the best decision of his life.  The speaker above them announced the next stop, and with a sudden jump she left her seat, discarding the new book into her bag and turning towards Spencer on her way to the door.  “Thanks, Spencer!” she exclaimed, “maybe I’ll see you around sometime”.  Another smile was sent his way, and before he earned up the nerve to ask for her name she was gone, disappearing into a growing crowd of commuters desperate to get back to the comfort of their homes and begin the weekend ahead.

***

The following morning, Spencer found himself in his living room with a mug of coffee in his hand, completely lost in his thoughts.  He was trying to calculate the chances of seeing the mystery woman again, considering it took six weeks after losing his book to see her for the first time at all.  

He groaned, inwardly cursing himself for his lack of courage the day before and wishing he at least had a name to match to the face that wouldn’t leave his mind.  As the coffee cooled, he found his gaze wandering to the coffee table where he had laid the book and his satchel the previous night.  With a sigh, Spencer picked up the book only to notice a bright orange post-it sticking out of one of the pages.

“The strongest of all warriors are these two- time and patience” was written in loopy writing, highlighted in yellow with exactly twelve exclamation points in red ink under it.  He was a man of science, but he couldn’t help but feel as though finding one of his favorite quotes from the novel staring up at him was a sign.

As he continued to skim the pages, he found note after note filled with quotes, reactions, and doodles and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration for the stranger who put them all there.  It was a book that held countless memories for Spencer, but already he could tell that this was going to be his ultimate favorite.  

Backtracking to the front page, Spencer saw his familiar scrawl had been slightly covered by a light blue post it note.  “If this book gets lost a second time I don’t want to make the same mistake as the first guy… please call Y/N at-” Spencer laughed, immediately grabbing his phone to dial the number before he has time to talk himself out of it.

As the phone began to ring, he thought about how he couldn’t picture her name being anything else.  It was as beautiful as she was, and he longed to properly meet the woman who managed to get his heart racing with just a few post-it notes.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end of his phone answered, and Spencer could immediately tell it was the same woman from the subway.

“Hi, is this Y/N?” he began, fingers nervously twiddling together.  At her hum of acknowledgement he continues, “This is Spencer, the guy who’s book you had?  I was just looking through the post-its you left behind and I love the perspective you have on the book.  Plus, it was so nice of you to even hold onto it in the first place so I was wondering if you’d wanna get coffee, maybe?  So I can say thank you for everything and talk about the book with you?”

The opposite end of the phone was silent and Spencer’s face grew red, his hands moving to his hair because how could he possibly think she wanted to meet him, she didn’t even know him and-

“I was hoping you’d find that post-it note,” she giggled, and with the sound all of Spencer’s worries completely washed away.  “Absolutely”.

***

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[reidscanehand]

soooo happy for you reaching 3k, you’re amazing ! 😁

can i request “You’re my favourite know-it-all” and “I don’t think you realise just how many people want to date you…I mean you’ve got a queue longer than the one to get into Glastonbury.” from the prompt list please? i think they fit spencer so well 🥰

Not to Be Unprofessional

RCH 3K Celebration

Prompts: 9. “I don’t think you realise just how many people want to date you…I mean you’ve got a queue longer than the one to get into Glastonbury”; 12. "You're my favorite know-it-all."

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

TW: cursing, Spencer's father dies

Word Count: 1470

Is this inspired by the fact that I work in a bookstore? Absolutely, 1000%. Thank you so much for the request, darling; you're also amazing! Hope you like it xx

Leaving the BAU had been a shockingly easy decision. He still lectured from time to time, but Spencer found that the longer he was out of the FBI, the happier and more content he felt. He still saw his former teammates from time to time, but he didn't regret it, not even for a moment. The only problem, really, was that he began to get rather bored, which was an odd feeling for Spencer.

Then his father passed away. The funeral was fine, if not somewhat awkward. He fully did not anticipate being made executor of his father’s will. But, upon his father’s passing, he received a sizeable amount of money. Saving most of it, and using some of it to make sure his mother was comfortable in her facility, he was still left with a rather large amount of money. It was then that he decided to do something he’d always wanted to do, but had never had the time or the money to make happen. 

He bought a bookstore. Luckily for Spencer, an older bookstore owner, Mr. Bakeman, just a little ways from Quantico wanted to retire and Spencer bought the store from him. It was also lucky for Spencer that you are part of the bargain - or, rather, you agreed to keep your job as the manager and main bookseller when Mr. Bakeman and his wife moved into retirement. It was lucky because, obviously, you already know the layout of the store, the way the finances work, how to order and restock, and how to assist in running the bookstore. There’s also the small fact that Spencer’s pretty sure that, given the opportunity, he will simply fall madly in love with you.

Mr. Bakeman, a very kind man, seemed to be fully aware of this, unnecessarily reassuring Spencer over and over that you were an asset to the store. Spencer wanted to meet you, to see you for himself and speak to you, but that had proven unnecessary as well. If it’s at all possible, you’re a credit to your profession. You’re kind and funny, good at the business part of the job, as well as the bookselling aspect - a good reader and a people person to boot. The moment you’d first entered the store, Spencer could practically feel hearts forming in his eyes. And while you’d quickly developed an easy, kind rapport with Spencer, you make him feel like the awkward boy he once was, rather than the man he’s become. Even now, six months into running the store with you, any confidence Spencer has cuts to nothing when you’re around. 

And to make it even more shocking and nerve-wracking, he’s about 86% sure you might...like him too? If that’s possible? It’s only occasional, but he sometimes thinks that you might be watching him - the same way he watches you. You go out of your way to talk to him, to make sure he’s comfortable and happy. You’d quickly picked up on his eccentricities and seem not to mind them. And you’re so kind to him it almost hurts his heart.

This morning, he enters the store as usual, coffee in hand and newspaper tucked under his arm, which he would complete with the slightly nicer pen in his back office. However, as he passes the front display table just inside the entrance, he freezes, stepping back two steps and looking over the contents of the table in confusion. Something is different. Call it intuition or the result of his eidetic memory, but he knew something had changed since he'd put the table out yesterday. The bell of the front door cues him to the fact that he's been staring at the table for quite a while. As he looks up and sees you walking in, he realizes how much he's missed out on by hiding in his office over the crossword every morning: the morning sun shining behind you as you enter the building truly is a sight to behold.

"You're not mad, are you?" you ask by way of greeting.

"W-what?" he manages to ask, his throat suddenly insanely dry.

"The table," you gesture to it. "I saw the theme and there was a blank spot? You'd missed the new book about Dickens and his mistress and I thought that it would-"

"Oh," he says, realizing what he'd missed about the table. "No, that's perfectly fine, Y/N."

"Are you sure?" When he nods in response, you smile, "I thought you might not notice, but you are a genius after all."

"Sorry to be such a know-it-all," he mumbles, feeling a blush heating his cheeks.

You meet his eyes again, fixing him with a gentle look that nearly does his heart in, "You're my favorite know-it-all."

He’s a tad overwhelmed by the compliment. Most compliments overwhelm him, but one of this variety - so genuinely kind and well-meaning - is a bit too much for him to handle. 

His brain eventually settles on a rather awkward, “Th-thank you.” 

As he leaves you to your morning work, he inwardly cringes at his own bumbling behavior. It’s rare that he closes his office door, but such as awkward interaction deems it necessary. About half an hour later you knock on the door before entering, a cup of coffee in your hands. 

“Hi,” you say, crossing to the other side of his desk and placing the coffee in front of him. 

“Thank you,” he replies, nodding towards the coffee. “You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to apologize,” you cut him off suddenly. 

“Apologize?” Spencer’s genuinely confused. 

“For what I said,” you clarify, “earlier.”

“For what you said?” Spencer’s still lost, a rare thing for him. 

“I didn’t mean to...I mean...if I made you uncomfortable,” you answer, looking at your hands. “I...you...you’re my boss, obviously, and I don’t...I never want you to think I’m trying to suck up to you or anything, but I just...”

“Y/N,” Spencer leans forward, reaching over his desk to take your hand in his, a shock of confidence burning through him, “it’s okay. I wasn’t offended. I never think you’re sucking up to me, I promise. You make me smile all the time and I...I’m delighted to be your favorite know-it-all. I was just surprised.”

You stare at him then, head cocked to the side, but never letting go of his hand, “Spencer, not to...not to make you uncomfortable, but, um, have you seen yourself? Spent time with yourself?”

“Wh-what do you...what do you m-mean?” he stammers. 

“It’s just...you’re so gorgeous and wonderful and....and...I just would think that you’d be used to compliments like that.”

Spencer can feel a blush growing up his neck and hitting his cheeks, “Um...uh...th-thank you, but, um, no...not-not really the usual thing that people think of when they meet me, I’m afraid.”

Without warning and without letting go of his hand, you cross to his side of the desk, standing before him. Hands slightly shaking, you drop his hand only to timidly cup his face in your hands, thumbs running along his jaw. Spencer practically leans into your touch, barely abating a moan at the contact. 

“You can’t be serious,” you finally whisper, staring at him with such admiration as he’s never seen before. 

“I don’t think I’m anyone’s cup of tea,” he replies quietly, self-deprecatingly.

Your eyes narrow in concern, “I don’t think that at all.”

“Y/N, that’s kind of you, but-”

“I don’t think you realise just how many people want to date you…I mean you’ve got a queue longer than the one to get into Glastonbury,” you tease softly tracing your thumbs against his jaw again.

“W-what’s Glastonbury?” Spencer manages to rasp.

“It’s not important,” you giggle quietly, “what is important is that you’re stunning and amazing and a wonderful person and I wish you would recognize it.”

You start to move away, but Spencer grabs your hands, standing suddenly and pulling you to him. You stare up at him, eyes surprised, but warm and soft. 

“That queue,” he whispers, “the one to Glastonbury?”

“Yes?” you reply, looking up at him hopefully.

“I don’t care about them,” he smiles. “Because, not to be unprofessional, but I only want you.”

The most beautiful smile he’s ever seen grows on your lips, “Really?”

Spencer smirks down at you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you impossibly closer, “I assure you that the queue for you is much longer.”

“Doubtful,” you scoff. “I wouldn’t care if it was anyway.”

“Really?” Spencer asks, breath hitching as your arms wrap around his neck and your lips venture closer to his.

“Uh-huh,” you nod, your lips only a breath away from his, “because not to be unprofessional, but I only care about you, too.”  

~~~

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[mrs-dr-reid]

I Swear

(A Spencer Reid Fic)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Platonic-ish Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader decides to clean the apartment, but she finds something of Spencer's that she was never supposed to see

Genre: Pretty angsty right in the middle, but it gets sweet and fluffy at the end, I promise

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of Spencer's no-no juice arc, mentions of the circumstances that CAUSED said no-no juice arc, crying, general ouchies.

A/N: This is for @imagining-in-the-margins' Roommate Challenge. I apologize in advance for any pain this may cause. And this is post-finale, but Reader doesn't meet Spencer until around the middle of Season 13, so she isn't fully aware of all the crap our favorite boi went through

Word Count: 1121

———————————————————————

When Y/N set out on her spring cleaning mission, she was not expecting it to end in tears. Well, she usually doesn't expect anything to end in tears, but especially not tidying up her shared apartment with her best friend.

Y/N is the owner of a very small and homey second-hand bookstore that just so happened to be Spencer Reid's very favorite place to go when he needed to de-stress after a rough day at work. One day while he was in about two and a half years ago, she helped him find a book he was looking for, they struck up a conversation, and they've been friends ever since.

About 6 months ago, Y/N's apartment building got condemned for a multitude of health and safety violations, and she didn't have anywhere else to go because all the apartments available for rent were too far away from her shop. She vented all of her frustrations to Spencer when he came into the shop that day, and he very generously offered to let her live with him in his apartment.

Anyways, Spencer was off at Quantico for what he assured her was only going to be a cut-and-dry paperwork day, so she decided to get some cleaning done, because between him being an avid reader, her making a living collecting and selling second-hand books, and both of them working so much, the apartment was starting to resemble a small post-apocalyptic library.

She reorganized the two large bookshelves (one for him and one for her), scrubbed the kitchen counters until they were spotless, emptied the fridge of any spoiled food, and wiped down all the surfaces in the bathroom. And she had to admit to herself that she did a pretty good job at making the apartment look habitable again.

Then Y/N started cleaning up the floors of her and Spencer's bedrooms so she could vacuum, and while she was picking up all of the mismatched socks strewn about in Spencer's room, she knelt down to make sure there wasn't anything under his bed, and she found a small wooden box with a clasp on it. She dumped all the socks into his hamper (while reminding herself to start on laundry later), then grabbed the box from under the bed to investigate.

She sat on the end of his bed, then undid the clasp and opened the box to find three small glass vials filled with clear liquid. Y/N's eyebrows furrowed, then she picked up one of the vials and turned it around to read the label. She almost dropped the box when she read the word "dilaudid" on the little sticker, and tears started coming to her eyes. Y/N knew that Spencer had been through a lot from when she first became friends with him, but she had no idea that he'd had these kind of issues, and that was probably on purpose on Spencer's part.

The front door opened, and she heard Spencer call out, "Y/N/N? I'm home!", so she used all of her resolve to contain more tears and slowly left his room while holding the little box. He hadn't noticed her come out of the room, and he continued hanging up his jacket while saying, "Hey, did you clean the apartment? It looks great! You know you didn't have to do that ri-...?", but he cut himself off when he saw Y/N standing in the living room with tear streaks on her face holding the object he hadn't even thought about in almost 3 years.

Spencer's face immediately fell, and he said, "You were never supposed to see that," which only made Y/N want to cry even more. She tried to fight it, but she broke down sobbing, and had to grab the back of the couch to stop herself from sinking onto the floor, because she knew that if she did, it would break Spencer's heart even more.

Spencer ran forward, gently took the box from her hands, then scooped her into his arms bridal style before carrying her to the couch and sat down with her. Y/N buried her face in his neck and cried harder than when her family had to send the dog they had since she was four across the Rainbow Bridge right before she graduated from high school, and Spencer could feel tears welling up in his eyes as well, because he'd never imagined seeing her this broken up over him.

After she had calmed down a little, she whispered, "Why didn't you tell me?", so he replied, "Because I didn't want you to see me as some fragile broken former addict. I just wanted you to see me as Spencer, the guy who nabs all the good books from your store before anyone else can get them, the guy who makes you watch Doctor Who with him all the time, the guy who teases you for not being able to handle Indian food, just... your Spence," his voice breaking at the very end.

Y/N looked up at him and said, "You'd still be my Spence if you had told me. Your past mistakes don't define the kind of person you are," before wiping her eyes and letting out a tiny sniffle. Spencer nodded and said, "It's a long story, but I know you won't judge me now, so... here goes nothing," with tears in his eyes.

He told her his whole story, about Tobias Hankle and his multiple personalities, about his kidnapping, about his struggle with substances, and about how ten years of sobriety were ripped from him when he was drugged and framed for murder in Mexico, and Y/N listened intently the whole time.

When he was finished, she asked, "And the box I found under your bed?", so he said, "I haven't even thought about it since before we met. I've been sober again for almost 3 years, and I'm not planning on giving that up again anytime soon, I swear," which made her smile before throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. He hugged her back, then kissed the top of her head before saying, "Thank you for being my friend," so she squeezed him even tighter and said, "Thank you for being mine," and they just stayed like that for a while.

Y/N said, "Wanna watch Doctor Who?", and he said, "I swear you can read minds sometimes," before grabbing the remote off the coffee table and going into HBO Max. Y/N snuggled into his side, and they watched the show peacefully for a few hours before falling asleep that way on the couch, more in sync than they ever have been before.

———————————————————————

CM Taglist: @homoose, @libraryofloveletters, @hurricanejjareau, @xgoldentigerlilyx, @less-intelligent-spencerreid, @boketto2-0, @aryaarathornson, @houseofhotch, @spoookymuulders

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#mentioningmargins #logan writes #criminal minds #spencer reid #reader insert

[pretty-boys-book-club]

Bylines to my heart - Chapter 2

Summary: You are a young journalist navigating the turbulent job of reporting for a local newspaper in D.C. What happens when you constantly bump into a cute boy genius? Can FBI agents befriend journalists? Can they fall in love with one?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x journalist!Reader, Spencer Reid x y/n, Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Word Count: around 5k

Trigger Warning: Reference’s to Maeve Donovan’s death, Canon-Typical Violence, Mostly Fluff.

A/N: It's my first published fanfic, so feel free to send me any tips on how I can improve! I'm loosely following what happens at season 11, but with adaptations for the story. Overall, some of the themes used for Joy's story. The team in this version includes Emily and Derek, plus all the members that appear in season 11. Joy Rossi is mentioned slightly, but you can decide if she is a journalist as well or not. 

Special mention to my beta reader, @sweetandsunny​ who is an absolute angel and has helped tremendously with this fic! 

Chapter 1

Parallel lives

“Wanting connections, we found connections — always, everywhere, and between everything. The world exploded in a whirling network of kinships, where everything pointed to everything else, everything explained everything else...”

― Umberto Eco

“Y/N? Can I see you at my office?” your editor calls you. Standing up, you turning off your computer screen – not even getting the chance to read your emails before being called to your boss's office. Great, we're gonna have a long day. 

It's been over a month since you had to cover the beekeepers' fair in Washington and since you met Spencer at the bookstore. You went back to the shop a few times after that, but you didn't see him. After questioning the owner, you found out that he didn't work at the store (what a shame to have thought that) but that he was one of the most loyal customers. You searched the web, looking for any clues for a social media presence, but gave up the search after finding nothing - Spencer is a pretty common name, #269 on the list of most popular names in the US, and without a last name your search is pointless. There’s no chance you’ll ever see the man again. 

After a few days, you let it go, concentrating on work and mundane tasks. But much as you try to avoid it, Spencer crosses your mind from time to time, more often than you'd like to admit. You swear you see someone who looks like him in the metro. Once, being so sure that it was him, you followed a poor innocent boy to a café, only to find that it was a random teenager with a similar haircut and not the man you're desperately searching for. 

It helps that you've kept busy, settling into your new role a bit better. But with so much work in the past weeks (you are now covering so many events that you slept through a ping-pong competition last week) - you've barely had enough time to think about anything other than your job.

You enter your editor’s office. John Williams is a man in his late fifties, with deep expression lines and thinning hair, something you attribute to the stressful profession. You can't picture what he must have looked like as a young man, without the beard or the smoky voice he has after years of smoking cigarettes in the newspaper office. You assume that this is a consequence of having worked as a journalist long before health laws prohibited smoking indoors.

“Hi boss, what do you need?", you use your most pleasant voice to avoid seeming rude to your boss. 

“Sit down.”

“Okay…”

“So, I gather you’ve heard of the homicide at northwest D.C.?”

“Yeah, I did. It sounded very grisly… Does that... Does that mean what I think it means? You want me to go over there and interview the authorities?” you say, almost not believing that your editor might ask something like that of you. It’s so outside your field of expertise, you have zero experience covering crime scenes and tragedies in general. 

“Yeah, I want you to go there, but not only to talk to the authorities, the FBI and local PD will be there, but I want you to talk to the families of the victims.”

“You want me to talk to the families? Sir, they are just going through what is most likely the worst moment in their lives, are you sure I’m the person for the job?”

“As much as I hate to send a reporter with no previous crime experience to write about a case like this, we need an interview for an article. These kinds of things drive our readership through the roof, since the big papers will be more focused on the President’s speech tomorrow than on a local crime. Y/N, all the locals will want to know more about this horrible thing happening in their backyard. I need you to get enough material for a story on this.”

“Okay, but are you sure-” You look into your editor’s eyes, trying to think of a single argument to convince him that someone else should do it. The man looks so tired, overworked, like most of your colleagues, you suppose. It doesn’t help that you're part of a local newspaper in a city like D.C., having to compete with big papers like The Post.

“Look, kid, we hired you because you have a very impressive CV, having worked at the Times-“ John tries to reason. 

“Correction: interned, and only for a year.”

“Well, having interned at the New York Times, so this shouldn’t be something a big shot reporter like you can’t handle.” He pleads. Well, he's really trying to butter you up today, huh?

“But I'm not a big shot reporter at all! I interned at the Times' entertainment section for a year, and then worked for a magazine in the retail industry for five! I’m not exactly a crime reporter, John. And you know it!” 

“Look, we’ve got Mark covering the game tonight and Janet is on sick leave, so that leaves you as the only one available. I wouldn’t ask you to do it if I didn’t think you had it in you.” He gives you a look as if to make sure you're actually okay with it, even if his words aren’t the most comforting. 

“Okay, yeah, I suppose I can interview the families or something like that. But you know I’m not a crime specialist and I can’t promise that I’ll get enough for a feature.” 

“Just get some quote from them saying how horrible it all is and we’ll be okay. The press conference is at the precinct at Tenleytown in two hours, so you have some time to get acquainted with the story. Try to meet with Agent Jareau or Agent Hotchner there, they are usually the ones we use as sources when these kinds of things happen.” He gets up from his desk, signaling that his decision is final. “And, Y/N, just to follow your journalistic instinct, it never failed me and you’ll see that it won’t fail you either. You’ll do great." He gives you a little pat on the back, as if this will stop you from panicking. "I don’t care what you have to do, just get me enough to run something about it, ok?” The editor says loudly, his voice booming at the office, making sure that everyone outside the room could also hear your conversation. You know he doesn't mean any harm, so you nod. 

—

Spencer is using all his energy to go through all the possible reasons for the UnSub killing his victims. It has been a few weeks since the BAU has had a day off, with cases demanding them to travel across the country. Once they arrived at D.C., a local police department asked them to consult on a serial murder case, and here they found themselves, in a police precinct at the north of the capital city. The team is tired, he can feel the exhausted energy in the air. Rossi and Emily are out getting something to eat, while Morgan is with him in the conference room, looking through files again to make sure they have missed no clues. Hotch and JJ are somewhere else, getting ready for a press conference that is about to start. Tara is talking to the families, who have been notified a few hours ago, taking their statements. 

No wonder Garcia is more than happy to call him and let him know that she's had a breakthrough on her "special assignment".  As soon as he sees Penelope's name on his screen, he excuses himself and enters a separate room from the rest of the team. 

"I found her, Reid!" She talks so loudly on the phone that Spencer has to put his phone away from his ear, her excitement apparent. He can picture her jumping up and down in her seat with a sparkly pen in her hand. “I almost thought your pretty girl was made-up, but I found her! Not to brag, but you know it would usually take my cute little fingers only a couple of minutes to search for her if you had anything more than a name to go on, but I'm pretty sure I found her." she giggles, happy to help him however she can. "Oh, you never said she was so gorgeous, remind me again why you’re having me stalk this poor girl online instead of going after her yourself?”

“It’s…It’s complicated, Garcia.” he almost whispers, earning a concerned look from Morgan, who’s staring through the window from the conference room. "Have you found where she works?"

"Yeah, she's a reporter for WTOP, I have an article here about a theater production she wrote last Tuesday and another about a student protest at Howard, and she's really good, Reid. I like her." 

Penelope's opinion is something Spencer trusts, so hearing her say that she likes the articles lets a smile escape his lips. "I'm glad to hear that," he says, before realizing that he has done so.

"I bet you are, pretty boy. What do you want me to do with the information? I can forward it to you in five minutes..."

Spencer cuts her off: “Just, just keep this between us for now. You don’t need to send this to me right away, I’ll check what you have once we’re back at the building, okay?”

“Afraid someone might find out that you are crushing H-A-R-D-” Garcia’s singsong voice rings through his ears. He feels his neck and ears heat up, hiding his face in his hands. 

“Thanks, Penelope, I have to go. Bye.” Spencer cuts her off briefly. He has bigger worries than a stupid crush at the moment. He goes back to the conference room, only to be met by Morgan with a smug smile on his face.

“Who was that, pretty boy?”

“It's just Garcia, she’s helping me with a consultation.” 

"If you say so."

"What do you mean?"

“Nothing, kid, nothing." Spencer hides his cell phone in his pocket, noticing that Derek is looking at him intently. He feels a bit self-conscious under the older agent's gaze, knowing he can't disguise the dark circles under his eyes, or the fact that his hair is totally disheveled.   

"Listen, try not to overwork yourself so much. You know, most of us have someone or something waiting for us at home to help us unload after a case, you, on the other hand, have been working non-stop since…”

“I know, I know, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“But we do. We all worry about you, Reid.” Morgan seems to have good intentions, but Spencer can’t help but feel peeved that they all try to intrude in his personal life so frequently. “Look, I need to get these files to Hotch before the conference starts, you keep working on the geographical profile for now. But please, once this is all over, you need to catch a break.”

“I’ll let you know if I have any news.” Spencer knows that everything Derek says is true, but he won't allow himself to confess anything. He hates that they see him as fragile. 

Morgan leaves him alone. Even as he tries to focus on the case, his mind is quicker, moving to the subject he is trying to avoid. Could Garcia really have found her? And if so, how would he approach her? Now that it seemed more real, he felt stupid for not having a plan. Morgan and Emily made flirting and dating look so easy, and he was still afraid of even asking a girl out for a date. 

—

You clutch your notebook in one hand and your phone in the other. You see your own calligraphy, words scribbled in a way that even you have trouble reading them, a result of writing way too fast. Whether it’s an iconic quote scribbled in a notepad or a detailed scene describing a moment in time, the notes that reporters take are an early, but crucial, step in the process of journalism.

Each journalist has their own process for recording the details that make up their report, which can vary widely depending on their beat. But the goal remains the same: to document the truth.

You like to think that the truth is in the details, the unspoken things, the silences. That is why, while other journalists are focused on finding the right angle to make themselves look good on camera, you are sitting in your seat, your phone ready to record in the press of a button, more concerned about watching the flow of policemen entering and leaving the station.You have a good view of the office through the glass and notice the team of people going in and out of a room across the hall. 

They are all wearing suits, rather than the uniforms that the other officers wear, making them stand out in the ocean of blue shirts. You deduce they must be with the FBI, and when two of them, a blonde woman and a man with dark hair and furrowed eyebrows, walk towards the auditorium you are in, you are sure that they are the two agents your editor mentioned earlier.

The other journalists, being more accustomed to this routine, settle down and begin preparing their cameras when the agents enter the room. You have arrived very early and got a good seat in front of the audience, so you can pay close attention to all that is said. 

"I'm Agent Hotchner and this is Agent Jareau, we are here to give a brief description of the type of person we are looking for and ask for all of your outlet's cooperation," he begins, with a deep voice and a serious expression. You sense that he is the ideal type of person for a job like this. 

"We are looking for a man in his late thirties to early forties, who can blend in with the people in the neighborhood. He's probably well dressed, charismatic, and we think he's going into people's homes posing as some kind of service provider. Since most of the victims are college students who live with their parents, this means that he is acting at times when young people are alone and that he knows how to make people feel safe around him. That means we are talking about a dangerous criminal" the blonde, Agent Jareau, adds. 

"So we are asking all residents of Tenleytown to be extremely cautious. Students should avoid being alone at home. Confirm the identities of all persons entering your residences and report if you see any suspicious cars on your streets." Agent Hotchner concludes. He watches the rest of the room, "Any questions?” Hands go up around the room.

A woman with dark skin and curly hair stands up, holding a microphone: “Mary Coulson with the Washington Spark. Are you going to release any more details about the victims? What university did they go to?”

“We’ve already made all available data public as of last night. We can’t confirm which campus they went to in order to keep the attacks from escalating. We don't wish to cause a social media uproar. From what we can tell, the suspect has a very specific killing zone, so we have no reason to think people outside of Tenleytown are in danger.” the female agent answers. She has a soothing tone, which comes very handy when dealing with this type of situation.

“Lewis Parker, Washington City Paper. Has something similar to this happened somewhere else? Why is the FBI involved?”

“We have reason to believe this is a serial case.” Agent Hotchner responds. “That is all for now, please reach out to me or Agent Jareau if you have any further questions.” 

The rest of the journalists get up, ready to leave the police station in a hurry. You notice that the older agent leaves the room while the commotion takes place, as the younger agent stays to pack up some papers in front of the auditorium where the two were speaking moments ago. You notice an opening to go talk to her and see if you have any chances of getting something from the families. After all, even though you recorded everything that has been said, you still haven't gotten the interview you need.

 "Agent Jareau? Hi, I'm Y/N, from WTOP. My editor, John Williams, said you could help me." you extend your hand to greet her, and she quickly accepts. 

"Nice to meet you, I usually deal with Janet from your website, is everything okay with her?"

"Oh yeah, she's sick so they sent me to cover the press conference instead. I was wondering if I could ask some questions to the victims' families."

The blonde looks around, making sure there are no other journalists besides you. It's noticeable that she's contemplating the best course of action. You look at her with pleading eyes, hoping that she takes that as a sign that you have no hidden intention of making this request. ”Look, I wouldn't normally let the press get in touch with the families so quickly, but it might raise awareness about the case and help us catch this guy before he strikes again. I can't promise you anything. If they talk to you, it's on their own free will."

"Sure, I understand," you nod. "Thank you so much, really. Can I ask you something?"

She looks surprised. You reflect, realizing that more experienced journalists probably wouldn't have such a hard time navigating a situation like this.

"Okay."

"It's my first time covering a case like this, any tips on how I can ask them things without sounding insensitive, since the murder are so fresh in their minds?"

"I think judging by the fact that you asked this question, you won't have a hard time. Just try to imagine how you would feel if you were in their shoes." That's a hard thing. You can't begin to imagine the feeling of shock, pain and anger they must've felt after receiving news of the brutal murder of their loved one. Agent Jareau continues, "I will let them know that a reporter is waiting to talk to them."

"Sure, I'll just wait here.”

—

He's been at the police station for hours now, finally deciding to leave the conference room, feeling the dire need of having caffeine in his body. Preferably in large quantities, with an exorbitant proportion of sugar, scalding hot. Better coffee than is available at the precinct. And maybe something sweet to digest the sandwich Emily brought him an hour ago. 

"I'm going out to buy some coffee. Anyone want anything?" he asks Prentiss, Rossi and Lewis, the only ones also in the room. They all answer in the negative, only Emily raising her gaze from the file she's flipping through.

"If I didn't know you, I'd be worried about that much coffee."

"I just need something that isn't made in an old police station coffee pot."

"I understand you. Go ahead, we'll manage around here."

He leaves the room, nodding at them as a response. He's exhausted from the countless sleepless nights spent to solve murders. Glancing around the precinct, his eyes land on something. Much rather someone. He swears that his eyes are deceiving him. 

It can't be. 

He rubs his eyes, convinced that he must be hallucinating from exhaustion. But there she is, taking notes as she talks to the family of one of the victims. She looks so beautiful concentrating like that. Spencer is lost in thoughts of how she looks for a moment, until an officer bumps into him, reminding him where he is. He quickly pulls himself together, walking faster towards the exit. 

Before he gets through the doors, he hears what he could never dream of: "Spencer?"

—

You can hardly believe it. 

“Spencer? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I can explain.” 

“Are you in trouble?” you look around as you speak, genuinely concerned for this man you hardly know and imagining that he might need your help.

“It’s not that…” he bashfully replies. 

Agent Jareau appears at this instant, with a glass of water in each of her hands. "There you are, Y/N, the water you asked me for.” She looks at you and Spencer, a ghost of a smile leaving her lips. Then she looks at you, "Were you able to talk to the families?"

You are so confused that it takes you a minute to answer. "Yes, I think… I think I have enough material to do the story, thanks…" you say, not taking your eyes off the man in front of you. He looks gorgeous, in a slightly more formal attire than the last time you met. The other thing you notice is how tired he looks too. 

"Oh, how rude of me, I see you have met Dr. Reid?” she extends her hand toward the guy you’ve daydreamed about for the past weeks.

"Doctor?" you still don't understand what is going on, making your voice crack a little bit. 

"Yes, Doctor. And one of the best - and youngest - profilers we have on our team." The blonde complements, with a smile on her face, as if she sees something they don't.

Oh. Okay. No freaking out. Oh my, is Spencer an FBI agent? But he looks so young. A part of you short-circuits, you try to speak but your voice goes up an octave: "You're a doctor and an FBI agent?!"

"I am an FBI agent.” he says matter of fact. "The Doctor is because of my PhDs, not an MD.” he looks down at the ground. 

You continue to stare at him, incredulously, only snapping out of whatever trance you're in when Agent Jareau coughs. You realize that you are abusing the poor woman's generosity and quickly hand her your press pass. 

"Thanks again." you smile, trying to pass on the gratitude you feel to her. She has a broad smile on her face, looking at Spencer and the way he is clearly embarrassed. He looks at her with a face that says to not make the situation any worse.

"You're welcome. And I'll leave you two to it, I see you clearly already know each other.”

"I'm sorry."

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong."

"I didn't correct you when you thought I worked in the bookstore." He is red, clearly feeling bad for giving you the wrong impression. You think you're going to explode due to his sheer adorableness.

"Well, I'm the one who should apologize for making an assumption," you try to calm him down. “I even had you waste your time walking me to the other side of the store! I'm such an idiot.”

He looks at you with a funny expression, wrinkling his nose.

"How did you know my name?"

"The checkout lady."

"Oh."

"She asked me if anyone in the store helped me, and you did, so I told her that a tall guy had helped me, and she said ‘Oh, Spencer?’ and I just said yes.” you try to explain, your words stumbling together. 

“Of course…” he says, a smile on his face. “Can we, maybe, start over?” he says, holding out his hand. You take it and feel how warm his hand is against yours. You look up to him, your eyes meeting once again. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I work at WTOP as a reporter.”

“Hi, Y/N, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m with the FBI.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Reid.”

“Oh, Spencer’s fine.” he laughs, still holding your hand.

“Would you like to grab some coffee sometime?”

“I was really hoping you’d ask. I’m actually on my way to a café right now.” 

—

“I thought Reid didn’t do handshakes", Emily says, watching the interaction from afar with her arms crossed. JJ walks up to her, both of them smiling, rooting for Spencer. 

“Well, apparently there are some exceptions.” JJ replies, sliding up to the brunette. 

“Clearly.” Tara concludes. 

“What are you all doing here?” Hotch walks into the scene, looking confused at the smiling BAU ladies. He doesn’t mean to intrude, but they should all be working on the profile. He looks in the same direction as the three women, seeing Reid talking to a girl he recognizes as a reporter from the press conference before. "What is going on?"

“Nothing”, the ladies say in unison. 

“Nothing at all”, Emily whispers to herself, as she sees both of you walking out of the station with Spencer laughing at something you’ve said. It seems they’re letting Spencer keep this a secret. 

For now.

A/N: This chapter came to me in a burst of inspiration after all the extremely supportive comments. Next one might take a bit longer as I’ll be taking a much needed break during the weekend and will only have time to write next week. So hope you’ve enjoyed so far :) Hope you liked the little guest appearances of all the BAU members. Thank you for reading this far! More chapters on their way. – Cat

Taglist: @lil-stark @beeblisss @rexorangecouny @writer-in-theory

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #cbs criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer x y/n #dr reid #dr reid x reader #dr reid x you #spencer reid #dr spencer reid

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Mystery Writer (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer finds books at a second hand bookstore that are annotated and he falls the person writing the notes. 

AN: This was part of a fic swap on @imagining-in-the-margins​ server! This is for the marvellous @definitelynotkatesblog​ <3 I really hope you like it! I had to delete the original post because it didn't show up in the tags. This will be staying up regardless of that now.

Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

“If you need anything, just let me know!”

Spencer pressed his lips together at the person behind the till before heading deeper into the rows of second-hand books. Familiar titles, old and new, printed on spines in various states of pristine/decay, they tempted him to select and bring them home with him. The clear sections between biographies and fiction guided him deeper into the forest, deeper into finding his way out. He was hoping to adopt one such book for a day off, when he could revisit it with a fresh eye. It would be like seeing an old friend again, remembering why they were friends in the first place with a hint of that initial read through from years ago, and perhaps he would learn something new in the process.

A dull ache in his chest at the sight of The Sign of Four by Arthur Conan Doyle. But he had long since recovered from that heartbreak and he would be able to read this story without feeling that again.

Still. It had been several years since he read this book.

His nervous fingers plucked it off the shelf and the pages fell open for him. A flattened gum wrapper parted the pages like the Red Sea. Spencer lifted it out tentatively. Its creases were ironed in from its role as a temporary bookmark, an impression of scribbled black ink flattened after it was made.

Spencer’s eyes scanned over the page in search of what this gum wrapper might have been guarding.

“Women are never to be entirely trusted – not the best of them.”

In the margins was scribbled:

Product of the time, but still a prick, rude smartarse role a bit dull

Spencer found himself exhaling in light laughter. That a lack of empathy was considered “dull” by this person, when it was something he dealt with in his job almost every day. The confidence in this commentary too, this brazen critique of a much beloved fictional character was left for someone else to find.

His gaze found Watson’s opinion of Holmes’ casual sexism: “atrocious sentiment”. It was circled twice in the same black biro.

Spencer dug his thumb against the text block and flicked through the book. A waft of that book smell lifted from the paper, accompanied by the bold notes of the previous owner dotted across the text until he finally landed on the reverse of the front cover. Two letters – initials - were scratched onto it.

It was with bridled exhilaration that Spencer approached the till and held up the book with a half-smile. His hands were quick to place it down on the counter so that the shop assistant could type the price into the till. His mood was apparently palpable because they seemed just as happy as Spencer to hand him back the novel in a brown paper bag – the receipt tucked inside.

 --->--->--->--->--->

 “Love is an emotional thing, and whatever emotional is opposed to what is true, cold reason, which I place above all things. I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgement.”  

What a lonely existence and also a lie. See: entire relationship w/ Dr. Watson!

Spencer smiled at this comment. Now all the other instances of a double underlining made sense. Each one produced itself in his mind as evidence that Mr Sherlock Holmes did in fact love. Maybe not marry, but it would have been terribly unconventional for him to wed Doctor John Watson. The unknown author seemed to understand this. They never emphasised if this love was platonic or romantic. But the way in which they proved love existed within this character oft portrayed as emotionless, Spencer simply adored. They were a romantic reader, who still enjoyed reading about the cynic

He grew quite aware of his posture in that moment and he straightened his back. A few clicks of complaint emitted as he stretched, his head twisting from side to side. Screwing his eyes open and shut behind his glasses, he revisited your deduction.

On the dot of the “i” in “lie”, there was a sprinkle of graphite around the indent from where a pencil’s lead had snapped from the effort put into topping off this point. A sprinkle of graphite smudged where the pages pressed together.

Spencer moved on to where a sentence in black biro tried to blend in with the printed words. A memory appeared at the front of his mind: when Rossi was bewildered to learn Spencer and Dr. Alex Blake wrote the newspaper crossword in pen.

The pencil markings were like mini brainstorms, something to revisit and make a solid theory with the black biro. But the planning was never rubbed out.

Little quotes were circled. This mystery critic spent half the book roasting the characters and the other half leaving little exclamation marks and circles around phrases and words when they couldn’t think of something to say. Spencer found it sweet, picturing the thrilling unfolding of events for the reader to revisit.

His heart ached in bittersweet memory as he recalled the contents of Dr Alex Blake’s book The Route of Linguistics. It was necessary pain to create a profile of who this mystery critic was. Yes, he was profiling out of work hours. His evenings were now spent trying to picture the voice behind the notes. The sarcasm, the witty blows to the character’s and author’s ego. He almost wished that he couldn’t read so fast because he finished the book, even with its additional notations, all too quickly. But there was one bonus.

Spencer traced the pad of his fingertip over the exclamation marks describing Mary Morstan. What else might a detractor of the great Sherlock Holmes read?

--->--->--->--->---> 

He had returned to the bookshop in favour of adopting another. Yet he could not find one that satisfied his unknown criteria. It was not until he found himself checking the front pages of the fifth book he had selected, that he realised he was looking for a pair of initials.

Sighing, he placed My Dear Bessie, with its empty front page, back on the shelf. The chances of finding another book containing this mystery critic were so minute. He could probably calculate them if he wanted to dedicate himself to such a disheartening statistic. He’d rather not spend his lunch break doing that, as much as he loved statistics. This once, they did not assure his safety and he remained unsupported by the fact that he could not find any other Arthur Conan Doyle books.

His desperation became most apparent when he thought that perhaps fate should just decide for him. If anything, he would come away with a random book to read through in about ten minutes on a flight back home.

He peeked around the corner of the shelves. The shop assistant at the till was busy writing something down, not paying any mind to the shop’s only customer.

“A random shot had no better odds than just picking books off one by one” is what he told himself as he closed his eyes and placed his fingers on the end of the shelf, just over the first book’s spine. In an “S” pattern, his arm moved up and down, over the books and shelves and gaps between units. His feet stepped forwards into the space he knew was clear.

Spencer stopped and opened his eyes, his finger shifting just an inch out of the way of his new book’s title.

Circe. Madeline Miller.

He tapped the top and the book fell forwards, where he caught it. Its shining dust jacket was serving its purpose, a few tears along the edges from where it had protected the hardcover. He checked the front page. A map of Aiaia in orange and brown filled it to the corners. On the next page, his heart stuttered at the sight of two initials in the same handwriting and the same biro. There was also a scribble - invisible to start with then a ball of black.

The first page with the story’s text held a scribble just above its opening line:

the power of the name

“When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.”

He could see that the first was in a blunt pencil, but the addition was a sharpened point carving into the paper. A secondary thought that was provided after completing the novel, they had added it. Spencer lifted it to his face, his eyes crossing to keep the stipple in focus. The scent of the paper and the graphite reached him easily; the note must have been made just before Circe was gifted to him. How lucky he was to find such a treasure.

The shop assistant was cutting out a new sign for “BUY ONE GET ONE HALF PRICE!”. By the time Spencer made it to them, the sign was placed upon the pile besides him. The shop assistant smoothed out a crease on the dust jacket, ineffectively but Spencer admitted the gesture. He was glad that someone who loved books as much as him got to work in a place like this.

--->--->--->--->--->

Spencer’s mind, definitely for worse, echoed the words off the tabloids around his head the split second he made eye contact with the headlines. He paced the shelves to somewhere a little quieter. When he found the chocolate aisle, he pretended to peruse. Ever half a minute or so, his gaze drifted up to the till area where the shop owner was on a phone call and clearly not paying attention to him.

It was not long before Spencer grew bored of looking at KitKats, and he pulled out One Thousand And One Nights. The book’s pages fell again to page 57. This shop’s receipt stood above them, still holding its place from the previous owner. It felt wrong to part the two.

No new people had entered this corner shop for 8 minutes. He’d even given the time at the receipt’s end a fifteen-minute margin either side. Given that this mystery critic took a break from work at the same time on the same day of the week – and that they worked during the day – he should have seen them. Maybe he had, and they were that man in the baggy hoodie who stunk of weed. Probably not. Hopefully not. Not that Spencer was judging him for his… recreational activities. He just wanted the mystery critic to be someone he could realistically spend time with.

Just then, Spencer’s phone trilled annoyingly loud. He received a glare from the shop manager and Spencer sent an awkward apologetic expression his way before answering JJ quickly.

“Spencer, we’ve got a case. We need you here ASAP.”

His response was immediate. “Ok, be there in ten.” Hanging up, Spencer dithered on the spot then grabbed a packet of Cheetos. He’d been there for nearly twenty minutes; he had to get something.

“Three dollars,” the manager said before returning to his call. But not before he rolled his eyes at Spencer. Spencer dropped the bills onto the counter and dashed out before he could be offered a receipt.

--->--->--->--->---> 

  An outlier in the usual length of case work had passed by in five long days. Spencer hardly ever regretted the time he put into this job. Every unsub caught was lives saved. But the absence of his mystery commentator had been niggling at the back of his busy mind and he was glad to finally reunite with them on this long flight back.

From his satchel, he recovered the copy of One Thousand And One Nights and began rereading the notes to ground himself in the story. His focus lingered on the page as if he were reading it at the average 250 words per minute. It allowed him to block out the humming of the engine.

Spencer did not take his eyes off the page as he pulled open his desk drawer and popped a piece of overpriced gum into his mouth. Half-hearted reminders bounced in his head, from when he tried smoking and chewing gum to ease his cravings. The fruit flavour was very clearly artificial and it faded within six minutes. Why his mystery critic would pick such a pathetic packet of gum to chew, he didn’t know. But hopefully the fact of its flavour disappearing fast would mean they get through the packet quicker and buy another soon. Even if today, and the days before, spent in that shop did not lean in favour of that hypothesis.

--->--->--->--->--->

The Five People You Meet In Heaven was in the Recently Donated pile. It was near the top, slid towards the edge of the container after being placed wonkily on a copy of some sports autobiography.

Within the pages was more than Spencer could have ever hoped for. Entire paragraphs were circled, quotes underlined. A squashed mini post-it note tabbed the page and a whole paragraph was scrawled on it, about Tala. An arrow pointing to the underside, Spencer lifted the flap and saw more to read, like an interactive pop-up book that he’d gotten Henry for his second birthday. Spencer closed his eyes quick and snapped the book shut. He wanted to save it for when he was sitting comfortably, not while he was rushing back to work in time for JJ to get to her lunch break on time.

The shop assistant had just clipped the lid back onto a green highlighter when Spencer drew up to their counter. With careful fingers, he placed the book upon it. There was a twitch of the assistant’s mouth; their eyes brightened. They looked like they wanted to say something, but something else held them back from making the first move. Spencer recognised it from his school days.

“It’s a good read.” He spoke after they had typed the price into the till.

“I know,” The assistant replied instantly, a relieved smile on their lips, “What part are you on?”

“I’ve already read it, but I wanted to revisit the passage at the diner.”

“Ahh, that’s a good bit. One of my favourites.”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed a fraction of an inch. His gaze dropped to the nametag on the left side of their chest. Y/N, their name’s first initial. It couldn’t be.

“What did you think about the final person, Tala?”

“Oh,” The shop assistant clutched at their heart, “I was an emotional wreck before and it hit me hard just as the rest did. So bittersweet to hear her forgiveness. It took me a few times to finish reading the end, but it was all worth it.”

He couldn’t be this lucky, to get this many books from the same person and to have them standing in front of him. Spencer didn’t believe in luck.

As he reached across for his new book, he turned over the cover, “Was this yours?”

Twisting their head around to read the publication details, the assistant – Y/N - smiled sheepishly at the initials. “Yes, and I’m glad to see it go to a new home.”

Apparently luck believed in him.

“But,” Spencer felt his brows knit automatically as he looked between the book and their previous owner, “You love it. I-I’ve seen your notes.”

A hand clapped over Y/N’s mouth, “Oh God, you must have. I mean, it wasn’t the intention initially, but I thought they might be a little entertaining for anyone who picks it up to leave them in there.”

“Oh, they were! I’d love to read more of your thoughts. Hear, hear them, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Y/N checked the door to the shop, still shut, and back to Spencer. They dropped their elbows onto the countertop with their chin in their palms. “What did you wanna know?”

From his bag, Spencer procured his – their – copy of The Sign of Four and flicked through the pages. So many places to choose, but he wanted to open with what had introduced him to Y/N’s analysis.

The pair put their heads together, leaning on the counter. Spencer could smell the chewing gum on their breath. Y/N never cut him off, and he never wanted to cut them off. There were little pauses at the end of each of their turns to speak before the other picked up where they had left off. Their voices leapt from secretive whispers to passionate orations of their favourite passages, rebounding evidence and analysis off each other like a bouncy ball. Spencer finally had a voice to put to the sarcasm, the one his mind had conjured long forgotten in the wake of Y/N’s enthusiasm.

The shop’s door swung open. Spencer leapt to attention as an older woman swept in, past the two of them towards the non-fiction section. Y/N adjusted their name tag, their back straight too. The clock behind the till announced that it was now twenty minutes after the end of Spencer’s lunch break.

Running on the rush of his hobby meeting a potential friend, Spencer asked, “Can I get your number? So we can talk more, maybe swap some more books, when you’re not working?”

His luck was still by his side as Y/N wrote out their number on his receipt, written in their infamous black biro.

--->--->--->--->---> 

  Spencer leapt over to the door of his apartment, took a deep breath, and unlocked it. Stood behind where it had been was Y/N and they too were still wearing the uniform from work. Their nametag was still on their polo shirt, the same spot that Spencer wore his FBI tag.

“Can I get you a drink?” He asked the second they made a step inside his abode.

“Tea would be great. Milk and one sugar please.”

And while he was in the kitchen, Y/N rushed over to the bookshelves, their eyes wide to take in Spencer’s collection. “Oh wow! You weren’t joking!” Their finger indicated to a hard cover copy of Mean Time by Carol Ann Duffy, “That’s one of mine. Well, yours now.”

Plucking it from the shelf, they opened it up. Spencer had written his initials beside theirs.

Spencer stuck his head out in the partition, “Ours. If we’re going to be sharing.” Y/N stood on tiptoes, teeming with delight, their hands cradling the book with all the care Spencer could hope for in a fellow reader. Joint custody of their books and their passion? What a dream.

“I just have to write a little more about the epilogue, and I’ll be with you,” Y/N took their place on his couch. A pencil began scribbling away their thoughts onto the last few pages. Their knees were their desk.

Spencer finished brewing and placed the mug in front of Y/N, who mumbled a quick thank you to him. He joined them in writing his final notes. It slowed him down a considerable amount, but he was glad to take things at a casual pace, especially considering the way that Y/N almost broke their pencil as they scrawled out their thoughts for Spencer to hear later.

“Have you thought about the next one you’d like to try?” Spencer asked tentatively. He wasn’t so sure if Y/N would want to be interrupted.

Luckily for him, Y/N paused their stream of consciousness to look back at his books, “Hmm. So much to choose from.”

Stood up, their book left in Spencer’s care. They took a deep breath, closed their eyes and used their forefinger to draw a zigzag over the spines. Spencer felt that he was almost sick with joy.

Y/N stilled their wandering hand and opened their eyes, already drawing out the selected novel, “This one.”

“And what have you chosen for me next time?”

Y/N handed over The Butterfly Lion from their bag, “Ok, I can’t wait any longer, what do you think?”

They sat back on the couch. Their legs now hung over the arm of the couch, elbows either side and face cupped in their palms. The book rested in their lap. Shifting so that he faced them completely, Spencer returned to the first page and his analysis began.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #my writing

[reidsconverse]

bookstore • spencer reid

Spencer x Reader

Warnings: None

Based off of this request: reid,, falling in love w the reader bcos he sees them constantly in a bookstore reading his favourite fiction author (perhaps,,, stephen king,,,?) but he’s too shy to talk to them

It all started when his usual used bookstore closed for renovations, which was slightly more than an inconvenience seeing as the second closest used book store was a 30 minute drive away. He’d finished work early one day and decided it was time to stock up on some books to last him a week.

He got to the store about an hour before closing, just enough time to browse the shelves and see what this place had to offer, on the outside it looked bigger than his usual store which he thought could be a good thing considering his ability to fly through books at such a fast pace.

A small bell rang as he entered the store, the door that was slightly stiff with age closing behind him, there was one person at the desk who he assumed was the owner, they shared a quick smile as an acknowledgment of the presence of each other before returning back their original tasks. Spencer set out to find a copy of IT by Stephen King, Garcia had made them watch the movie at their last BAU movie night and it had sparked his intrigue to reread the novel.

The store wasn’t difficult to navigate and he easily found his way to where the book should have been, except it wasn’t there. He had called ahead earlier to confirm they had it to avoid a wasted trip. He quickly turned the corner to go and ask the person at the desk what had happened to the copy when he saw her.

Now truthfully, Spencer didn’t think he believed in love at first sight... until he saw her. Tucked away in the corner, wearing a beautiful yellow dress paired with a pair of yellow converse, she looked ethereal and Spencer almost forgot where he was and what he was doing. But then he saw it, no literally IT...the book he needed sitting in her lap and currently the owner of her attention.

Just as he was about to approach her to question her about the book, he saw her check her phone and sigh before getting up to put the book away. Spencer couldn’t help but watch her as she collected her things and prepared to leave, he wanted so desperately to stop her, ask her her name or even about the book. He just stood there frozen, pretending to look at the shelf of books.

“Are you lost?” He heard a small voice pipe up shaking him out of his trance, quickly turning around to see you looking up at him with wide eyes. “I know this store pretty well, I could help you find what you’re looking for.”

He stared at you for a few seconds before clearing his throat, “Uh no I’m ok thank you.” He regretted it the minute he said it, here you were offering to help him, to spend time with him and he had said no.

“Oh, ok, I hope you find what you’re looking for then!” The girl said, giving Spencer a wide grin. “This store has an amazing collection of works, I’ve been coming here for years although I never buy anything, I prefer to sit here and…,” She paused when she saw Spencer staring at her, she grinned sheepishly and pushed a strand of hair out of her face, "and I’m rambling I’m so sorry.”

“I-its fine, it's nice to see I’m not the only one who appreciates the vibe of bookstores, and I’m the worst when it comes to rambling I could talk for hours, my friends hate it when I start to go off on a tangent…” Now it was his turn to grin sheepishly, “as I’m doing right now.” He finished.

The girl giggled and looked up at him before saying, “You’re cute,” Her face quickly matching his in flushing red when she realised what she had said, “oh my god I’m so sorry I didn't mean to say that out loud.”

Spencer thought he’d died and gone to heaven. "No it's fine, thank you." He hated how awkward he was, why couldn't he be more like Derek with his smooth pick up lines and charms, maybe if he was less him he might've had the courage to continue the conversation and get her number, but no all he did was smile at her .

"I'm Y/N." She said, holding her hand out for him to shake.

He quickly looked down at her hand and before he could stop himself he blurted out, "The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss." He saw her purse her lips in confusion before retracting her hand and he immediately felt awful, "I'm sorry I don't know why I said that, I'm Spencer."

She smiled at him gently and nodded, "It's ok...It was nice to meet you, Spencer... I uh, I have to go but I hope I see you around here again." She gave him a quick wave before walking over to the front desk, smiling brightly.

“I’m almost done with the book Laurel, it's incredible. Stephen King is so talented.” He heard her say.

“Oh y/n, I didn’t tell you, someone called ahead and placed a hold on the book.” Laurel, who Spencer presumed was the guy at the desk, told the girl with a sad smile.

Spencer felt his heart physically hurt at the smile dropping from the girl's face, a small adorable pout forming on her face and she let out a small, “Oh…that's a shame, hopefully, you get another copy soon. I'll see you next week!”

He heard her bid goodbye to Laurel followed by the bell ringing out through the store, indicating she had left. He quickly walked over to pick out the book he had come for, however, his intentions had changed in the short period of time he'd been in the store. He took out his pen and began to write on the title page, something he would never normally do but he had to see her again and this seemed to be the only way.

He took the book to the front desk informing Laurel he had been the one to call ahead and put it on hold, before paying for it. He looked up at Laurel and said "Actually, could you keep that safe and give it to the girl that was in here before...her name was Y/N. I overheard her saying that she was almost done and I've read it more than enough times."

Laurel smiled at the awkward man standing in front of him and nodded, "Of course, she'll be so pleased, she's been coming in once a week to read it and it would've been such a shame if she couldn't finish. You're so kind for doing this, I know she'll appreciate it."

Spencer smiled before glancing down at his watch, taking in the time and knowing he had to leave now in order to avoid the traffic back, he quickly bid farewell to Laurel and made his way back to his car before beginning his journey back.

- one week later -

Y/N made her way back to the bookstore a small spring in her step despite her disappoitment that she was to be unable to finish the book she had been reading for the past few weeks, she was excited to select a new book.

The bell rang as she walked into the store and she smiled brightly when she saw Laurel at the desk, "Hey L, how are you?" She said, walking over to him.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm great and I have a gift for you." He said grinning at the young girl.  

Her ears perked up at the mention of a gift. "A gift? Laurel you shouldnt have."

He chuckled before handing her a copy of the book she had been intently reading for the past few weeks, "Oh honey, this was nothing to with me... I think you should take a look inside." He said with a small smirk before going to the backroom to do whatever it was he needed to do.

She slowly walked over to her usual seat in the store and sat down before opening up the book,  she let out a small gasp as she saw the note Spencer had written the week before.

Dear Y/N,

I hope you don't find this strange or too forthcoming but after our brief meeting last week I knew that couldnt be the last time I spoke to you. I overheard you (I promise I wasn't purposely eavesdropping, its just a small store) mention how you love this book and how you hadn't yet finished it, I also heard how disappointed you were when Laurel told you someone had reserved it. That person was me but I realised that I'd much rather allow you to finish the incredible book than reread it for the 5th time. I hope you enjoy the ending of this book, if you would like to discuss it with me and share other book recommendations please feel free to text me. I'm not the best at technology but I am good at talking about books.

Here's my number: xxx-xxx-xxx

Kind Regards,

Spencer

She closed the book quickly, pulling out her phone and typing in the number.

Y/N: Hey Spencer, this is Y/N from the bookstore, I got your note. Would you like to meet up for coffee soon and we could discuss the book?

He replied back almost instantaneously which took Y/N by surprise.

Spencer: Hello, I'm so glad you weren't weirded out by the note I left, my friend told me it was a little creepy and I was worried. Coffee sounds great, shall we meet at the coffee shop opposite the book store tomorrow at 5?

Y/N: Sounds great! Its a date! :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x you #my works!

[yourmidnightlover]

Dreams of Iris - Chapter 1

chapter 1 - sealed with a kiss

series masterlist

spencer reid x fem!reader

series overview: when introduced by penelope, reader and spencer take on a sexual bdsm relationship. secrets are discovered as time goes by. what happens when they both try to discover who the other is within themselves?

series warnings: bdsm themes, smut (rough sex, penetrative sex, spitting, choking, cum play, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), bondage, overstimulation, edging, grinding, thigh riding, handjob, aftercare), talk about/illuding to previous abusive relationship, angst, crying. this series is 18+

chapter summary: when spencer and reader are at penelope’s birthday party, their paths cross, and they’re able to get to know each other.

chapter warnings: mostly fluff, mild sexual innuendoes

A/N: hi!! i’ve been pretty mia the past few days, i know. i’m sorry for the constant breaks i’ve been having. my mental and physical health has been slowly declining over the past month but we’re finally getting back uphill! i’ve been thinking about making this series for a while now, but never truly started it. i hope you enjoy this and the future chapters!

“i’m so sorry i’m late, pen,” you rushed out with a smile. “after i played with him, my dog wouldn’t come back inside.”

“oh, gosh it’s alright!” she assured you with a wave as if she were actively brushing it away. “anything for charlie.”

“he’s a handful, alright,” you laughed once more as you entered her apartment.

the place was decked out with color, and you expected nothing less from the dazzling woman. there were neon balloons, a few streamers, and you could see the cake she placed on the counter.

“so where’s the fiancé?” you gently nudged her shoulder.

“he’s somewhere in the kitchen making small talk,” she rolled her eyes. “even though i told him to refill the punch bowl!” she directed her gaze to where luke was talking to emily in the kitchen.

“poor guy,” you winced as he looked towards penelope, surely remembering what she had asked of him before he jumped into action and opened the fridge door.

“sorry, princess,” he chuckled as he walked towards penelope after refilling the bowl, placing a chaste peck on her cheek.

“what happened to queen, huh?” she chuckled while trying to keep a straight face on, pretending to scold the man.

“oh, you’re right,” he sighed. “you’ll always be my queen - mainly of ice, but i digress,” he laughed before turning his attention towards you. “hey, y/n. it’s so good to see you again,” he reached for a hug which you gladly embraced.

“you too, man,” you smiled before releasing him from your grasp. “how’s the almost-married life treating you?”

“it’s going amazing with this one,” the couple looked at each other with the epitome of heart eyes.

“he’s so cheesy, i know,” penny grinned with a fake scoff thrown his way.

you could only hope to find a love so enchanting one day. a love that stole your heart and mind all the while allowing you to grow as your own person with them. a love that would emphasize all the best qualities you had and helped you find your best self.

“it’s mostly just the team here, so if you’d like i could introduce you to the ones you don’t already know?”

“that’d be great, actually!” you nodded as she looped your arm into hers, beginning to lead you around the place.

“so you’ve met emily and jj, right?”

“yea, at karaoke night,” you clarified as you waved at the two of them in the kitchen where luke was once talking. “and i met rossi at one of his book signings.”

“right! i forgot you read those books,” she bit her lower lip. “tara? matt?”

“tara i also met at karaoke night, she can get pretty wild. i’m pretty sure matt was with his family that time, though,” you informed her as she approached matt and his wife, the two being very attractive.

“matt, kristy, this is y/n y/l/n, one of my best friends,” she kindly introduced you, placing a hand on your back as you smiled at the couple.

“hi, y/n,” matt extended his hand to shake. “it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“you as well,” you replied. “i’ve heard only great things about pen’s team.”

“this one included?” kristy joked as she nudged her husband. “i’m kidding, he’s truly great. it’s so nice to meet you,” she shook your hand as well.

“alright, we have one more stop to make,” penny whispered in your ear before taking your arm in hers once more and guiding you to where spencer, as she’s shown you in pictures, was sitting on the couch.

he’s much more beautiful in person. the photos didn’t seem to do him justice, especially that jawline of his.

“spencer, this is y/n y/l/n,” he looked up from his book to greet you, his eyes going wide before he cleared his throat.

“um… hi, y/n,” he smiled. “i’m doctor rei-spencer reid, but you can call me spencer or reid or whatever you’d prefer, really,” he stumbled out.

“hi, spencer,” you nodded, extending your hand to shake. “you can call me y/n,” you joked, a soft laugh leaving the both of you as your eye contact continued.

“okay, so i believe you’ve now met the full team!” penny interrupted, giving you a pat on the back before having you sit beside spencer.

“so…” you trailed on after pen walked away. “i’m assuming it’s phd and not md.”

“oh, yes,” he laughed as he closed the book, home turning his body to face you. “i have three phd’s.”

“pen did say you were the genius of the team,” you nudged his shoulder gently.

“i uhm-garcia tends to brag a bit on her friends,” he humbly explained, trying to bite back the persistent grin.

“oh come on,” you egged him on. “it’s alright to admit when you’re above average. i mean, 3 phds? she told me how you can read like a billion words a minute and have an eidetic memory.”

“i-i mean… in a way that’s all true,” he blushed. “i can only read 20,000 words a minute.”

“you say that as if it’s still not incredibly impressive, doctor,” you compliment him, chuckling as you place your hands in your lap and begin to twiddle them.

“thank you, y/n,” he placed his hand atop your fidgeting ones, forcing your attention into himself. “so,” he cleared his throat, “penelope says that you own a bookstore?”

“i do,” you nodded. “it’s a bit quaint and homely, which is how i wanted it. i like the comfortability that comes with the place. people have told me the ambiance is soothing.”

“seems pretty accomplished,” he added. “i suppose i’ll have to stop by sometime, check it out.”

“i suppose you will,” you smiled.

there was just something that drew you to him. perhaps it was his smile, or his curly hair. or maybe it was the way he was so welcoming and comforting. the energy he gave off while simply sitting on a couch was able to calm your nerves.

it was gentle, warm, and tender. you could tell he’d been through a lot - and not just because pen had told you he’d been through a lot. the way he presented himself made it seem as though he took every day as a blessing. he made sure to make the most of every day he was given and to take chances.

and maybe he’d take a chance with you.

he, in fact, did stop by your bookstore the next day. you saw him enter on the cameras you had set up, and it was quite odd knowing he wasn’t aware of your presence.

he began by browsing the nonfiction section, eyeing some old historical books before moving to the ‘owner recommendation’ section. he pulled a couple of books from the shelf, smiling as he admired the cover. it was clear he recognized each one he pulled, as if he was the one who made the shelf in the first place.

eventually, he made his way to the front desk. he looked a bit… disappointed when he saw that you weren’t the one at the front desk. you chuckled to yourself before opening the door from your office, making your way to greet spencer yourself.

“hey, stranger,” you tapped his shoulder, hiding your hands behind your back immediately after with a sly grin.

“y/n! hi,” he smiled, the disappointment no longer comprehensible on his face as he embraced you in a hug. “i was hoping i’d run into you.”

“were you, now?” you pulled back from his arms and bit your lower lip.

“um-yea-yes. i was,” he nodded, sticking firm with his answer. “i wanted to get to know you more? i really enjoyed talking to you the other day and thought that maybe we could finish our conversation?” he raised his eyebrows, waiting for the other ball to drop.

“i would like that,” you nodded before glancing at your employee who gave you raised brows himself, two thumbs up displayed as he mouthed ‘he’s hot’ behind his back. you stifled a laugh and rolled your eyes before adding, “would you want to grab a cup of coffee? i actually have a room in the back that has all the fixin’s.”

“i think i would like that very much,” he agreed before you grabbed his hand, leading him to your office.

“have a seat,” you motioned to the couch as you made your way to the coffee station. “how do you take it?”

he bit his lip at the innuendo before answering , “sweet.”

“seems fitting,” you sighed as you placed a pod in the keurig.

you placed a couple pumps of vanilla syrup in both of the cups along with two scoops of sugar in one, only one in the other. you took one mug and put it under the stream, letting the hot liquid flow into the cup before stirring it and handing the mug to spencer, doing the same thing for your own.

“thank you,” he muttered before taking a cautious sip of the coffee. “you didn’t mention how successful your bookstore is.”

you shrugged, “i didn’t think that was really important. i mean, what really deems something as successful?”

“that’s a good way of looking at it,” he added as you took a seat beside him on the couch. “did i interrupt something when i came?” he furrowed his brows.

“no, no need to worry,” you placed a calming hand on his forearm. “nothing that i can’t do later. it’s just bills and everything.”

“right,” he smiled. “have you always wanted to open a bookstore?”

“well, i always wanted to be self employed so i guess? i just wanted to make sure i was secure since i was a little girl,” you revealed. “my dad was always out of work and my mom had to stay home to take care of us. stability was something our lives always lacked, so i knew it was a main priority for me when i would grow up.”

you didn’t expect to reveal so much of your past so soon. a part of you was ashamed of it and tried your best to keep it hidden. but you could tell that spencer would never judge you for your past like other people have.

“and you accomplished that,” the accolade made you blush, or maybe it was the way his free hand made its way to your thigh.

“so,” you sighed. “did you always want to join the bau?”

“no, not really,” he chuckled, his thumb beginning to rub circles on your skin. “when i was little i wanted to be a cowboy, but before that a magician.”

“a magician?” you giggled at the thought.

spencer in a black cape, you at his side in a sparkly purple leotard, clinging to his arm with a wide smile.

“yea! i know a bit of sleight of hand,” he added.

“i wanna see!” your eyes lit up, all wonder entering them in the most innocent, beautiful way spencer had ever seen.

“alright,” he sighed as he looked around the room. “see my hands?” you nodded eagerly. “completely empty, right?” you nodded once more as you bit your lip. “so… how did i do…” you looked at him quizzically for a brief moment, “this?!” he reached behind you and picked out a single red rose from your hair.

you reached your hand out as he presented the rose to you, placing it in your hands. you looked at the flower with admiration, as if he had just handed you the world. he hugged your hands with his own, bringing them to his lips to place the softest kiss to them. his lips felt like clouds on your skin, and you could only imagine what they would feel like elsewhere, traveling down your body and exploring your own mouth.

“that was so cool!” you decided to say, rather than displaying your own internal monologue so soon.

“thank you, thank you,” he blushed as he waved to a faux crowd. “i’ll be here as long as the owner wants me to be.”

forever, you thought.

“can you teach me?!” you asked, now sitting on your feet and nearly launching yourself on top of the poor man.

“a magician never reveals his secrets,” he rose his hands in defense.

“i want to know all of your secrets,” you said in a low, innocent voice.

“all in due time, angel,” he compromised. “all in due time.”

you shivered at the nickname, partially wondering where he had gotten it from all the while hoping he’d call you it again.

“promise?” you were now a mere inches away from the man, your thighs touching as his hand wrapped around one of them.

“promise,” he whispered as you closed the gap, he pressed his lips to yours softly, not wanting to go too far so soon.

the kiss was a seal to the promise he had made. one day, he’d let his guard down for you. one day, he’d let you knock his walls down. one day, he’d be rescued by his princess from the tall tower he had built to protect himself. one day, he would let you see how he was both the victim, and the monster.

#spencer reid x reader #dreams of iris #spencer reid fluff