#dr spencer reid
Luke: Hey, Reid. I need dating advice. *for Garcia*
Spencer, looking up from his paperwork: Just because I'm dating Y/N doesn't mean I know how I did it.
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ok should I post the Emily coming out fic in parts around 1k each part more or less or all together?
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I Can’t Say Anything to Your Face
Summary: Lunchtime is Spencer Reid’s favorite time of day and not because of the crappy endless coffee, dry sandwiches, or the occasional chocolate donut. Spencer’s favorite time of day comes in the shape of a little post it notes and fits perfectly into his heart.
Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader
Content: Fluff (1 use of a$$)
Author’s Note: The idea of for this came from @shemarmooresfedora for giving Spencer compliment cards
Word Count: 2.6 K
I Can't Say Anything To Your Face
When Spencer checks his watch for the twelfth time that day, he can practically feel Derek’s eyes roll. He tries to cover up his action by picking at his sleeve, but that just seems to draw attention to the situation. Derek raises his eyebrows at Spencer, as if to tell him, I saw that.
When it comes to teasing Spencer, Derek doesn’t miss a beat.
The team, minus Derek and Spencer, continue to work diligently. JJ walks back and forth from her office to Hotch’s, constantly shuffling through piles and piles of paperwork. Emily seems to keep herself busy with the 33 tabs that she has open on her screen. Y/N, who’s tongue slips out of her teeth in concentration, doesn’t look up from her mound of case files. Spencer likes studying how each of the members of his team works, but he particularly likes to watch Y/N. She always sticks her tongue out when she’s deep in thought. Sometimes she’ll close her eyes and rub the butt of her palm against them. Other times she’ll push her glasses up on top of her head and her hair frames her face perfectly. Spencer couldn’t care less what she looked like or how she wore her hair, but watching her was his favorite part of the day.
In a totally platonic, non-creepy way.
A beep distracts Spencer from being distracted by Y/N. It’s an IM from Derek, telling him something to the effect of asking Y/N out. Instead of responding, Spencer decides to send Derek a more direct message. He shuts off his computer, which isn’t really used, besides for Y/N to send Spencer requests for online scrabble.
Spencer, ignoring Derek’s gloating, walks from the bullpen into the team’s lunch room. It’s a small kitchenette with a couple tables, a very old coffee machine, and an even older refrigerator. Peeking into the refrigerator, Spencer takes out two lunch boxes. One is light green with patterned purple and orange dinosaurs all over and the other is a light blue with green plants. Like clockwork, Y/N rounds the corner with a smile plastered to her face.
“What’s got you smiling like that?” Spencer asks, placing his lunch box down across from Y/N’s seat.
“It’s just my favorite time of day,” Y/N responds, unzipping her bag and taking out her banana, water bottle, granola, and turkey sandwich.
Spencer tries to hold back his smile at Y/N saying that lunch is her favorite time of day. He likes to believe that it’s because of him and not because of the top tier kitchen facility the government provides for them. But who’s he kidding, there’s no way that lunch is Y/N favorite part of the day because of Spencer when he’s up against a crappy coffee maker.
“Did you know that sandwiches were only called sandwiches because the Earl of Sandwich ate his meals with bread, meat and cheese like modern day sandwiches? However, there’s much debate if sandwiches existed prior to this. Researchers actually believe that sandwiches were simply referred to as bread and meat or bread cheese, depending on the ingredients. There’s hundreds of works of literature that help to determine this,” Spencer says, as he unwraps his leftovers from dinner the previous night.
Y/N, who takes a bite of her turkey sandwich, listens intently to Spencer’s oral history of sandwiches. She starts to respond to Spencer, but before she can even get the chance, Derek interjects into the conversation.
“Hold your horses, there Reid,” Derek says, his voice tainted with sarcasm and Spencer braces himself for a clipping comment, “you don’t want to scare away the newbie,”
Y/N, ever quick witted, rolls her eyes dramatically at Derek. She gets up and moves her seat closer to Spencer who’s heart rate, at the thought of her sitting even closer to him, speeds up. He knows that it's just an effort to tease Derek. That she'd rather suffer next to Spencer, than to have to entertain the idea of sitting next to Derek. But still, Spencer is a dreamer; he'd like to think she'd sit next to him even without the added bonus at avoiding Derek's playful teasing.
“Derek, leave Spencer alone, I happen to adore his facts. You know, I’ve seen I’ve been here I’ve been a Jeopardy beast. And when are you going to realize that I’m not a newbie, I’ve been here for what 2 years-”
“2 years, 4 months, and 4 days,” Spencer says, cursing himself silently for interrupting Y/N.
Derek grabs his lunch from the refrigerator, and sits down across from Spencer and Y/N.
“You remember the day I started?” Y/N asks, turning her attention from Derek to Spencer, whose face is twisted in what he can only assume is an extremely unattractive deer-in-head-lights look. He shrugs off Y/N’s comment, as if to say it’s just normal for him.
"Of course I do, I remember how long each of us has been here,"
"Oh, right. Eidetic Memory," Y/N mumbles, almost like she's slightly disappointed in something.
Suddenly Spencer’s mouth is quite dry; he reaches into his lunch bag to grab his water bottle, but his fingers brush across a small card taped to the outside. Forgetting that showing the card to Morgan would give him enough ammunition for the rest of day, Spencer quickly scans the card. It’s a small piece of paper, but it suddenly has become Spencer’s most treasured object. More than the set of Chaucer tales that his mother gave him, or Gideon’s watch, or his first microscope that his biology teacher in high school gave him at his graduation.
The one side of the card is decorated in small hearts and there’s a sketch of a dinosaur on the other side. In careful handwriting, the giver of the card wrote “Are you made of Nickel, Cerium, Arsenic, and Sulfur? Because you got a NiCe AsS!”
Spencer’s eyes grow a couple sizes once his brain registers the meaning of the card. Handling it less than gracefully, he chokes on his water, which catches Derek and Y/N’s attention.
“You okay there, Spence?’ Derek asks, questioning what sent Spencer coughing and choking on water like that.
Spencer, not wanting Y/N or Derek, especially Derek, to read the card, attempts to put it in the front pocket of his lunch box. Unfortunately, Derek catches sight of the card and snatches it out of Spencer’s hand.
“Derek!” Spencer whines.
He can feel his embarrassment deepen as Morgan’s smile grows. Spencer seriously thinks that this is how he’s going to die. His death, being in his line of work, is something that plagues his thoughts from time to time, but any gory hero’s death pales in comparison to Derek Morgan reading Spencer’s love notes about his ass.
“Nice ass? I’m not too sure about this, Reid, but looks like your secret lover likes your ass just as much as your brains,” Derek teases, handing back Spencer his card.
“Those are private,” Spencer says, grateful that Derek’s going to leave him alone, places the card back in it’s temporary resting spot near his driver’s license and photographs of him and Y/N at the arcade.
“Hey man, I was just going to put in that shoe box you have tucked under your desk, you must have hundreds of them by now,” Derek says, taking a bite of his ham and cheese wrap. His eyes dash between Spencer and Y/N, like the pair of them is the most entertaining reality show he could think of.
“I have 645, now,” Spencer says, unable to help himself much to Derek’s amusement. Spencer hears the chair next to him screech and Y/N rushes to pack up her half eaten lunch.
“I completely forgot, Anderson needs me to uh, help him with something,” Y/N says, stuffing her water bottle into her lunch box in a flustered state. Spencer watches as she rushes, her need to leave the kitchenette quite evident. Spencer is left wondering why she has to go see Anderson, of all people.
“Anderson? What does he want with you? I don’t remember Hotch saying anything about that,” Spencer says, his voice comes off a little more bitter than he indented.
“Maybe Anderson has some extracurriculars that he needs Y/N’s help with Spencer,” Derek says with a wink. Spencer’s brow tightens and his blush deepens as if he’s trying to decipher the way that Derek’s voice is laced with suggestion. The only logical conclusion is that Y/N is flustered because she’s sneaking off to see Anderson, because she likes him.
Y/N likes Anderson? Something about that doesn’t taste right in Spencer’s mouth.
Like the wind, Y/N is gone and all that remains is Derek’s sly chuckle.
“What!” Spencer says, much too loud for him to continue the coy and unassuming demeanor he usually produces when Y/N gets hit on at the bar or on case by local cops.
“Nothing, Reid. You're just clueless. Just think about how many of those little compliment cards you’ve gotten,” Derek says. He reaches into Spencer’s lunch box and takes his brownie. Usually, Spencer would have protested, but Derek’s words sent him into a confused spiral.
“645,” Spencer responds.
“Okay,” Derek continues, “645 days you’ve gotten those cute little cards in your lunch box or taped to your hotel room door on cases. Now, Reid think. How many years, months, and days, is 645 days”
“That’s 2 years, 4 months, and 3 days,” Spencer starts, “now given if it’s a Leap Year that could change it a little bit bit-”
“Think about it Reid,” Derek says, talking slowly to get the words sink in and hoping that he doesn’t have to spell it out for him.
“Y/N?” Spencer asks, kind of like he can’t believe it, but desperately wants to believe it at the same time.
“Y/N,” Derek repeats, “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long, Reid. She’s been making eyes at you the day she’s gotten here. It’s almost sickening to watch you to dance around each other,”
“Y/N,” Spencer says, it’s like he’s saying her name for the first time. It’s the most beautiful string of syllables to ever come from his lips.
Spencer pushes back the chair and swings the door open. As he walks to Y/N’s desk he gets distracted by the little brown shoe box that sticks out slightly from under his desk. He crouches down and picks it up, hoping that it can be helpful. He approaches Y/N’s desk, but JJ stops him before he can go closer.
“Stairwell,” Is all she says before she brushes past with an armful of case files. Spencer, heading JJ’s advice, practically runs to the stairwell. As he approaches he can hear quiet sobs, which he can only imagine are Y/N’s.
Spencer opens the door and Y/N, startled, stands up and tries to mop the tears away from her face.
“Spencer, oh god, I didn’t know you were here, I’m okay, it’s just me being a little silly,” she says, trying to laugh through what she can only assume is going to be rejection.
“I really hope you don’t think these are silly, well some are kind of silly, but others were very poetic,” Spencer says, taking a step forward and gesturing with the shoe box to make it obvious to Y/N that he’s talking about the compliment cards.
“What are you talking about, Spencer?” Y/N says, feigning ignorance.
“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. You're much too smart to play dumb,” Spencer says, moving closer to Y/N so he can wipe her tear-stricken face with the sleeve of his soft cardigan. He tries not to focus on the way that Y/N seems to melt into his touch. He knows that if he can get another touch of that, he’ll never want to touch another person ever again.
“I’m not playing dumb, Spence. I just never planned for you to find out,” Y/N mumbles. Spencer’s face resembles a mix between shock and confusion.
“Why would you not tell me, I don’t think I made it anything but obvious that I’m crazy about you,” Spencer says, deeply wondering why Y/N would ever hide something like this from him.
“God Spencer, have you ever looked in a mirror?” Y/N asks him, sitting down on the third step, “you’re so gorgeous, Spencer, I can’t say anything to your face. So the next best thing was to write down everything that I wanted to say to you,” Y/N finishes, a little embarrassed. She tries to hide that embarrassment by not making eye contact with Spencer, who sits down next to her.
“You think I’m gorgeous?” Spencer asks, not entirely sure that he heard her correctly.
Y/N peaks at him with teary eyes and a runny nose. Spencer thanks science and the universe for his Eidetic Memory. He knows that there won’t be a single day of his life that he won’t want to think back to this day and remember the way that Y/N looked when she first told him that she thinks he’s gorgeous.
“I think you’re the most beautiful person that I’ve ever seen,” Y/N says breathily, her voice laced with restraint. She’s terrified of
rejection, terrified that Spencer will turn her down still.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard that,” Spencer says, equally as quiet and equally as terrified. He notices that Y/N’s hand creeps closer to his. Spencer is itching to intertwine it to his and never let go.
“You deserve to hear it more often, hence the cards,” Y/N explains, moving her hand even more closer to Spencer’s. He has no choice but to wrap his much larger one in Y/N’s smaller one.
“You meant it, right?” Spencer asks, bravely putting her heart out there on the line, “because if you did Y/N, that I’d really like to kiss you right now. But if you didn’t then that’s-”
Spencer tries to finish the sentence, to give Y/N an out, but somehow she doesn’t take it. Somehow she decides to kiss him.
Spencer has kissed a total of three people in his entire life, but none of them ever mattered again the second he feels Y/N’s lips against his and her hands in his hair. Spencer doesn’t complain when Y/N starts to set the pace. Her lips roam across his face. They venture across his jaw, up closer to his nose and then back down to his lips. Spencer had no clue Y/N can kiss like this. It's a little passionate for a first kiss, but maybe it's just the pent up tension and frustration 2 years in the making finally being let out. He's dreamt of the way that Y/N's pillowy lips would feel when they were finally pressed up against his. Spencer, from the fibers that make him up to the hormones that surge throughout his body, tries to be brave. He places his hands so they rest on Y/N’s neck. He’s not passive, but he’s happy to sit back and let Y/N have her way as she continues her feverish assault on his lips.
Her ministrations are interrupted, however, when the box of cards falls from Spencer’s lap. It seems to remind both of them that they are in the stairwell of the FBI making out like over zealous teenagers for the first time. Y/N lets out a small giggle. Spencer wishes he can write down the feeling it gives him and tuck it away safely in a shoe box.
“I hope you know that those compliments aren’t platonic, Spencer. I really do think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Y/N says, her fingers gravitating to the brown curls behind Spencer’s ears. He has the softest, silkiest hair she’s ever felt.
“That’s a good thing, Y/N, because you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,”
Standing up, Y/N winks and pecks Spencer on the cheek, “I hate to break it to you, darling, but I think I win when it comes compliments,”
--Thank you for reading--
Taglist (Comment & I'll Happily Add You)
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Spencer, on the phone: let me talk to Morgan
Emily: Morgan your boyfriend wants to talk to you
Derek: he's not my boyfriend!
Derek, taking the phone: hey babe
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Just for the record...
Pairing: Spencer x GN!Reader
Warnings: none that i can think of:)
a/n: heyo! this fic is very loosely based on me. mostly the fact that my first job was in a local record store and my music taste. there are no physical descriptions of reader at all. okok i have to finish writing this now but um i hope you like it!<3
(oh and it’s lightly inspired by this post and this one)
Spencer didn’t leave his house often. For many reasons. Germaphobia, social awkwardness, and the whole ‘anyone could be a serial killer and could be targeting me’ thing, just to name a few. But this, this he could handle. After all, he’s been here before. And it was a painless process. Nice, even. Going to a record store is like going to a book store, right? Well, maybe not. But as far as he’s concerned, investing in vinyls was one more easy way to reject modern technology. So, he covered his hand with the sleeve of his cardigan quickly before pulling the door open. The store wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t packed either. Though, it was crowded enough to turn Spencer off of the idea of wandering aimlessly through the aisles of stacked up records. He hesitantly walked up to the counter with an older man standing behind it.
“E-excuse me? I was wondering where I could find um--”
The man cut him off with a shout, “Y/N?!”
The door of what he could only assume was a storage room swung open and Y/N stepped out carrying a box.
“Do me a favor, help this guy out, alright?”, he explained while they tripped slightly over their Docs.
“You got it, boss.”, they smiled with a click of their tongue.
Spencer’s mind raced a million miles a minute looking at the person standing in front of him. Because they were definitely not here the last time he was. And now, he knew his face was probably bright red and that did not help with the seemingly awkward silence or the stuttering.
“Y-you know what? I-i-it’s fine, I c-can find it myself. You ju--um, y-you loo-k busy.”, the words struggled to fall from his lips.
But instead of laughing or brushing him off, Y/N just smiled and tried to reassure him, “No, it’s totally fine. In fact, it’s uh kinda my job.”, they giggled.
And even though he had just met this magnificent stranger thirty seconds ago, he would do anything to hear them laugh again. But instead, like the idiot he had deemed himself as, he choked up and all the words died on his tongue.
“Soooo, what’s up? How can I help?”
“Right--um I’m looking for ‘Metallica’.”
“Like, just the band in general or the album?”
“T-the album. But it’s f-fine if you guys don’t have it or something!”
“Don’t worry, we totally have it. And I know we do because I just stocked ‘em up an hour ago.”, they drummed their fingers on the edge of the counter happily before hopping over it. They motioned for Spencer to follow as they began to walk to the back of the store.
“Metallica, huh?”, those two little words broke Spencer out of his trance, and now that they had, he felt like an absolute creep for just staring at them.
“Oh no, you just--don’t seem like the type. You strike me as more of a...Mozart type of guy."
"Really? Then what makes today so...unusual, Doc?", they turned around for a split second to see the confusion on his face, "You're wearing an ID badge on your shirt.", Y/N smiled and pointed in the general direction.
"Oh.", he looked down at his badge from over two years ago and was now horribly embarrassed by the photo on it, "Well, nothing's unusual per se, I just thought I could try something new--or not new, but something I haven't heard in a while."
They finally stopped at the very back wall of the shop and Y/N pulled a small ladder towards themselves so that they could reach the higher shelves. They pulled one of the records down, stepping off of the ladder and handing it to Spencer with a smile. Y/N's banter came to a sudden stop as they heard a few notes echoe through the store, granted, they were faint, but there nonetheless. Spencer watched as they turned down another one of the aisles.
"Hon, you know I love seeing you come in every day, but we've been over this. We have headphones next to the players for a reason, ok?", they handed a pair of headphones to the man and patted him on the shoulder before leading Spencer back up to the front.
Spencer could feel his anxiety building more and more as Y/N shuffled some things around on the counter in attempt to clear some space and organize at the same time. He wasn't sure why he felt so nervous around them--yes he did. Even with his eidetic memory, he couldn't think of anyone who was as beautiful and captivating as them. And in attempt to ease his anxiety, he did what he does best, share his infinite amount of knowledge.
"Did you know that an early mechanical cash register was invented following the American Civil War?"
"No, no I did not. I am intrigued though, tell me more?"
"It was invented by two men--James Ritty and John Birch to be specific. James was the owner of a saloon in Dayton, Ohio and wanted to stop his employees from pilfering his profits. So, 'The Ritty Model' was invented in 1879 after he saw a tool that counted the revolutions of propellers on steamships. And with the help of John, who also happened to be his brother, they patented it in 1883, calling it 'Ritty's Incorruptible Cashier. The uh--the one you guys have here doesn't seem too much older, it was probably made around 1909, if I had to guess."
"Wow--", Y/N smiled and took the cash from his hand, "You must come here often if you recognize our cash register."
"You'd think so, right?", he huffed out a laugh, "This is only my second time here actually, I've just never seen one like that in D.C. before, and I--um-I have a lot of random facts floating around.", as he spoke, he watched Y/N scribble something down on a piece of paper and then carefully place the bills in the register.
"Well, hopefully I see you here more often.", they beamed and handed him the album.
They exchanged a 'thank you' and goodbyes before Spencer started his walk home. As he pulled his cardigan closer to his body, he noticed a small paper that was tucked inside the cover, flapping in the wind. He pulled the paper out slowly, written on it was ten digits and a small message scribbled beneath them.
‘Call me sometime:), xo--Y/N’
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Spencer, using trends to try and convince the team to read books he likes: Jurassic Park is dark academia!! There’s science stuff in it... and a lot of people die!
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Spencer, reading a joke off a popsicle stick: How does the ocean like to paint?
Derek, half-listening: I don’t know, why?
Spencer: It was a how question????
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"People tell me their secrets. I think it's because they know I have no on to betray them to."
- Spencer Reid.
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I really need to stop writing Spencer Reid fanfics during class or I'm going to get in a lot of trouble. I was supposed to be doing my work.
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Me too Spence me too.
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"It doesn't matter what she looks like, I mean she's already the most beautiful girl in the world to me."
And this is why I love Spencer Reid ❤
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someone please go request something for me to write!
reminder I write:
-Spencer Reid fics/blurbs/imagines/headcanons in most genres!
-Emily Prentiss fics/blurbs/imagines/headcanons in most genres!
-Evan Peters characters in AHS (emphasis on Kit) fics/blurbs/imagines/headcanons in most genres!
-MARVEL! (MCU/XMEN)- focus on Peter Maximoff- fics/blurbs/imagines/headcanons in most genres!
-occasional, mild smut
-you may also ask me for small headcanons about characters and scenarios <3
-I write requests based off of how I interpret songs! Give me a character, genre, song, etc. and I'll write a fic based on where that song leads my mind. You can also submit a character, song, and a general idea for the fic too. r
and I will also answer a few questions about myself if you have any
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Y/N is sleeping
Spencer, bursts into her room*: Y/N! It's time for work! We have mission!
You: *murmurs and still sleeping, cuddle with your blanket*
Spencer: Aww she is sleeping... How cute...
Spencer, smirks: *starts banging on a table* WAKE UP YOU LAZY ASS!!!
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Dodging a Bullet
Spencer x GN!Reader, Derek x GN!Reader (platonic)
Summary: Spencer’s nonchalance in reaction to you taking a bullet for him is the final straw in you and he’s relationship.
Warnings: Cussing. Talk of getting shot. Vile arguments.
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: I thought about writing some from Spencer and Derek’s perspective, but I felt like it didn’t fit. In this situation, you wouldn’t know what they were thinking, what explanation they had, or what they knew, so I kept authentic to that idea.
It was a rough way to wake up, a gunshot wound in your side and a stab wound in your heart. Despite both, you were still alive, more awake than you’d like, and metaphorically kicking. The doctors wanted you on bedrest so as to not further damage your ribs or tear open the stitches across your side. Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do for the pain in your chest.
You’d been out for about a week, the team calling you for your input, not like they really needed it, they just knew you’d drive yourself crazy if you felt like you weren’t helping, and you appreciated the distraction.
Everyone called, everyone texted, and everyone had come over to visit you, some more than others. Well, everyone wasn’t accurate. Everyone but one.
You initially thought he was avoiding you out of guilt. You’d taken the bullet for him, and you thought that he might feel bad coming to see you when you could barely walk and he was perfectly fine, physically at least.
You were sure he was still having trouble with nightmares and ptsd from being kidnapped. Spencer Reid had already been through a hell of a lot in his life, and you were sure this last stunt wasn’t exactly helping his mental state. Not to be selfish, but yours wasn’t doing too hot either. It takes a lot to stand by and listen to the person you loved say all the shittiest things they could think of, then step in front of a bullet for them, then never hear from them again. Not even at the hospital.
Everyone was walking on eggshells around you, and you couldn’t blame them no matter how irritating it was. Of course, Spencer was the only one oblivious one to your feelings, the rest of the team knowing damn well how much extra this hurt.
But the longer you stewed on it, the more you felt like he did know, and was just ignoring you. Just ignoring your presence, the fact that you were always there for him, how you would defend him against any ignorant police chief, and how you would literally take a bullet for him. How you’d die for him and almost did. But all of it seemed ignored. Brushed off. Overlooked.
Because it didn’t matter what you did, what you said. He didn’t care about you. He seemed to barely notice you anymore.
It wasn’t always like that. You used to talk, and laugh, and spend time together, once upon a time. Then some geneticist came along, and you were happy for him, you were, but things were never the same. And after she died, he never came back to you. He slowly, very slowly, crawled back to the rest of the team, but never to you. You were the first one at his apartment and the last one to leave, and the easiest person to talk to, or you should have been. But he made you feel like the barrier between you was made of bulletproof titanium rather than just a simple wooden door.
You accepted it, though. You had to. His feelings for you were less than non-existent, having barely glanced your way over the past five months, barely spoken a word to you over the past year.
So you were done. So fucking done.
But you needed him to know it too.
You got cleared to return to some normal activities, like walking and driving, but nothing field related. Walking and driving was all you needed, though, taking the opportunity to drive to Spencer’s apartment. Even after all this time, the car knew how to get to his place on autopilot.
You knocked twice, more aggressively than you’d intended, but you were fuming. You were telling yourself to keep it together, but you knew yourself better than that.
He answered the door cautiously, as if he was prepared for a lion to pounce on him the moment he opened the door. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, which for some reason made you more irritated. How dare he size you up after not acknowledging you for months on end?
Without a greeting, you asked, “Can I come in?”
Spencer hesitated for a moment, eyes squinting just slightly before he stepped aside and let you in. You strode with confidence into his apartment, and noticed how much things had changed since you’d last been there. Books were no longer on shelves, instead in messy piles around the room, almost as messy as the papers on his desk. There seemed to be some thin layer of dust followed by a thicker layer of gloom setting into the walls around you, the curtains preventing the natural light from sneaking through. It didn’t feel like the Spencer you knew before, didn’t fit him.
As you turned to face the man before you, you remembered why. The Spencer before you had morphed into the type of man that fit his surroundings, seeming to carry the same layer of gloom as his apartment, spreading it wherever he went.
He looked at you expectantly, your cue to start talking. You cleared your throat before you began, “I just wanted to come over and see you. I wanted to let you know that I’m sorry for whatever happened between us. I’m not really sure what happened, exactly, but I’m sorry and… and I’m done. Spencer, I’m just done. So if you need anything, of course I’ll be here for you, but otherwise I just-”
“Done?” Spencer cut you off, a harsh question on his tongue. “What does that even mean?”
You were caught off guard by his change in attitude, expecting him to just shrug you off like he had for the past year. You collected your thoughts before answering, “Yes, done. I’m tired of trying so hard to be a good teammate and friend to you, when I don’t get anything in return. So I’m done trying.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing for the last year? Trying to be a good teammate? It’s taken that much effort?” Spencer questioned, voice dropping to that threatening octave he usually reserved for interrogations.
If your blood hadn’t been boiling before, it was now. “Effort? As a matter of fact, it has. And don’t talk to me about effort, Spencer, I took a bullet for you!”
His facial expression looked disinterested when replying, “I never asked you to do that.”
“Unbelievable,” you felt like you were in some sick nightmare, “Don’t pull that shit on me.”
He shrugged, returning to that same passive nonchalance he regularly exuded around you. “Well it’s true.”
“So I should’ve just let her shoot you in the head then?” you sarcastically asked. “I should’ve just stood by and watched as she killed you?”
Your questions caught him off guard, and you were sure the venom in your voice had stunned him as well, having never heard that tone of voice directed at him before. He stuttered, “No, n-no that’s not-”
You didn't give him the chance to finish, going to a place you never thought you would with him. Promised yourself you wouldn’t go, no matter how hurt you were. But this, his not caring about your life, and clearly not caring about his own, was too much. “Or what? You wanted to die, is that it? You wanted her to kill you because living without Maeve is too painful and the rest of us aren’t even worth it, so you’re just over it? You were willing to let all of us go through the same pain of watching someone we love die in front of us without being able to do anything because that’s what you went through and you can’t deal with it? Is that what I missed or is it something else Spencer, because I’m confused and tired of trying to earn your trust or respect or whatever, because I know it’s not coming. It’s never coming. Because nothing I do, nothing any of us do, not even save your goddamned life, is good enough, so please, just tell me what it is I’ve done or haven’t done that makes you hate me so much. Once I know, I’ll be sure to try my best at changing that around you and staying very far away from you.”
You took a sharp inhale of breath, having just used all of your air reserves to get that all out in one go. Spencer looked genuinely dejected, but for once, you didn’t care. He had the audacity to whisper, “Hate you? You think I hate you?”
You gave a bitter laugh, crossing your arms in front of your body. “Come on, I’m not gonna play that game. We’re way beyond that. You have not shown me a single ounce of decency to suggest otherwise, so yes, Spencer, that’s what I think you think of me.”
“That is not true,” he meekly replied, looking down, a sharp contrast to the rage you’d seen in his eyes only moments ago.
“Save it okay? I've heard this one before, and I’m not gonna do it again. I’m tired of being so fake and lying to each other when we’re both profilers and know damn well what’s really going on. Actually, I think anyone with eyes could tell how you really feel, so we’re not doing the whole ‘no I don’t hate you’ thing. Just tell me the truth about what you need from me so we can work as civilly as possible, and then I’ll get out of your hair. Permanently.”
He was now staring at his fidgeting hands as he choked out, “It’s just… I don’t, I-I”
“Look me in the eyes and just tell me, you coward!” God, you were so sick of him never looking at you, especially when you spoke.
For the first time in a year, as far as you can remember, he did what you demanded and looked you in the eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with you, okay!?”
You sighed, defeated. “Fantastic. If you ever decide to man up and tell me what your deal is, go right ahead, but until then, we work together and will cooperate to save lives, but after that, we are nothing. We can ignore the other’s existence.” You both stood there, skin-searing tension whirring around you, before you marched toward the door. “Bye, Reid.”
You made sure to slam the door on your way out.
You stormed to your car, slamming that door shut too, before furiously whipping out of the parking lot. What were you thinking? You knew that was never going to go well. But you just needed him to know that you were tired of trying to be there for him and earn his attention back. If he ever wanted to make things right, or tell you what was wrong in the first place, he could, the door was open, but otherwise, you were over him.
You plopped onto your couch, deflated. Nothing seemed to be going right, as of late. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so naturally, there was a knock at your door.
You groaned as you got up to answer it, barely looking through the peephole before yanking the door open. “Yes, Derek?”
“Hello to you too,” he smirked, snaking past you into your apartment.
You turned around and saw him walking straight toward your kitchen, opening up the fridge for a drink, and the pantry for chips.
“Yes, please come in and eat my food,” you mumbled. He’d heard you and laughed. The two of you had been pretty close since you first joined the team, having an immediate connection. You were both close to Spencer as well, and sometimes just needed someone else to talk to when things got complicated with him and everyone else wanted to ignore what was right in front of their faces. After all, it was the two of you that helped him out of his addiction. Yet another thing to add to the list of things you’d done for Spencer that he clearly didn’t care about.
“So,” Derek started in, “What’s happened?”
You shrugged, “Nothing really. I talk to Spencer, he ignores me, the usual.” Derek gave you a pointed look and you released a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “I almost died for him, Derek, and he doesn’t care. Actually, it seems like he couldn’t care less.”
“We both know that’s not true,” he casually stated.
“Do we?” you questioned harshly. “Because he hasn’t talked to me in over a year, has barely looked at me in the last few months. He couldn’t even face me back in the hospital.” Your voice got quieter as you finished.
A look of understanding flashed across Derek’s features. “You know everything he said about you was to save his life, right? He had no choice.”
“Yeah, sure, but he was pretty damn convincing. And if you’re right, say he was just saying those things to save his life, why not apologize to me? Why not come to me and tell me that? I know for a fact had that been you, or Emily, or JJ, or literally anyone else, you would have come and apologized to me about it. We would have talked it out, and I would have told you that I understood and maybe we could have eventually laughed about it. But he didn’t do that. Didn’t apologize or even fucking acknowledge the fact that I risked my life for him, even after hearing him say all that! He just ignored me. What does that tell you?” Derek opened his mouth but you cut him off, “And I know what you’re going to say, but I am done giving him chances.”
Derek was silent for a while, having long ago stopped his munching in lieu of intensely analyzing you and the situation. When he still didn’t say anything, you huffed and went to sit down on the couch next to him, your feet all the sudden feeling too tired to continue holding you upright. You looked over at Derek who sucked in a deep breath before calmly asking, “So what does that mean for you?”
“I can’t keep being there for someone who won’t even look at me, let alone talk to me. I can’t keep setting myself up to get beat down.”
“How about… what about your feelings for him?” he asked cautiously.
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. We work together and that’s it. That’s all I can take.”
“What about his feelings for you?” You could tell Derek was making a last-ditch effort to save whatever you and Spencer had left.
But it was far too late for saving. “If this is how he’s going to be, then I guess I dodged a bullet.”
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✨Chapter 38 is up✨
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
Aria DiMaggio hadn’t planned on uprooting her life to move to Quantico, but those things just sort of happen when Jason Gideon sets his mind to something. Trying to put her broken past behind her, the life as an intern for the BAU turns out to be exactly what she needed. It’s a constant whirlwind of chaos and crime, but with her unique set of skills and a fiery temper to boot, Aria has no problem fitting in with the team. Especially when it comes to the adorably attractive Dr. Reid and the growing crush she’s trying to ignore.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female OC
Tags: Slow burn, Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Soulmate/OTP
TW: Domestic Violence, Domestic Abuse
Read: AO3 | FF.NET
Tag List: @eternityofaxiom @rainsong01 @dreamer7black @sighaleksander @averyhotchner (if you’d like to be tagged, ask!)
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Sugar (Chapter 8)
Summary: After prison Spencer realizes how lonely he is. Afraid of the intimacy of a real relationship he decides to become a Sugar Daddy. After all, nobody ever fell in love that way, right?
Pairing: postprison!Spencer x fem!OC
Also to read on AO3 and Wattpad
Content Warning: Mentions of Loss, loss of virginity, kidnapping, guilt, death, Cancer, Depression, PTSD, Sugar Daddy/Baby relationship
✨click here for chapter seven✨
🦋click here for the masterlist🦋
🌸click here for the soundtrack🌸
Her mother had always taught her to be strong. To be independent.
Liz always worked.
She, although always having to put herself last, gave Katharina everything possible. She just had to wish for something and Liz went out of her way to make it possible. No matter how many shifts in a row she had to work, no matter how exhausting it was. Even when she got ill, she would work.
The older Katharina got, the more she realized this and when her mother had become sick she knew that she was now the one having to make sacrifices.
She had renounced her chance of going to college, so she could work. The money Liz had put aside for her, although never enough to completely pay for her education, they used instead for Liz´ treatment. Katharina never had friends, since the time she wasn’t at school, she had spend working in a fast food restaurant. When she came home at night, smelling like the deep fryer, she sat down on her bed and did her homework.
When the bills then got to high, the saved money was used up and the jobs got to much, Katharina had to think of something knew. Having already three jobs, plus the babysitting on the side, was too time consuming and brought in way too little.
Then, one night, she was just about to close the restaurant for her manager, an middle aged woman had knocked on the door. She offered twenty bucks as tip, if Katharina would quickly prepare her order. While Katharina did so the woman conducted small talk with her, making her complements for her looks and asking her why such a pretty girl was working so late at night instead of going out. She mentioned that money was tight at the moment and the woman told her about her business.
An marriage agency called ‘Happy Endings’.
Katharina told her she wasn’t looking for a husband and the woman had laughed. She told her that nobody in her agency was and explained her how she was helping Sugar Daddies to find sugar babies. Katharina then asked what a Sugar Daddy was and after the explanation told the woman that she didn’t want to be a prostitute.
The woman looked a little hurt, but explained that there were plenty of man not insisting on sex and their main focus was to have somebody to talk to. She had left her business card with Katharina after leaving and a one-hundred dollar tip. Telling her that she should think about her offer of becoming a sugar baby. Money made the world go round and what would her good looks be for, when not used to her advantage.
Two weeks later, when Katharina had to pay seven hundred dollars for her mother pain medication and desperately searched for her debit card in her bag, she found the woman’s business card again. And at night, when Katharina got home from work, her mother already sleeping, nothing at home to eat then a peanut butter sandwich, she had made her decision.
After four months and countless dates, while still working, she then had met Spencer. A man so nice and good looking that there needed to be a catch.
Another catch, except him being over fifteen years older than her. And there kind of was. He had severe PTSD, he tried playing his suffering down and pretended to be fine, but life hadn’t been kind to Spencer. He was a broken man and she recognized his pain. Sure, she didn’t suffer from PTSD, luckily, but the helplessness in his voice, in his eyes, when he let her into the darkness in his mind. She felt it. She knew the feeling of helplessness, although different than his, it was still the same.
She still wanted to be with to him, seeing his eyes light up when she did something for him made her heart swell with happiness. Normal things she would do for everybody she liked and loved, he did not take for granted. That only made her want to do them for him even more.
Katharina gave her virginity to him.
Weird. She never really hung on the concept of virginity. Yes, she kind of saved herself for something or someone special. But that also had to do with the fact that she never really had time for dating or meeting someone she actually wanted in that way.
When she then met Spencer, she felt so attracted to him that she would have slept with him even without becoming his sugar baby. It wasn’t his looks, although…damn. It was his character, the way he was, the way he laughed, the way he started rambling about the weirdest topics and found joy in every bit of information. When he then said he didn’t want to take her virginity, not wanting her to regret it, wanting her to be with someone she loved, she had already sold her soul to him. She would NEVER want somebody more than him. He was perfect in her eyes.
And after there first time, after their second time and after their third time of having sex, he had proven himself to be perfect. Every move, every touch, every spoken word. Every second after it, when he just held her and told her he loved her.
She never really knew love in that way, he didn’t seem to either, only ever having suffered loss.
So when they started saying ‘I love you’ she also started to feel it.
Knowing he felt it too.
But there would probably not be a conversation about it in a long while, she knew he was afraid of changing anything in their dynamic, she kinda was too. So for now they just where themselves.
No label necessary.
When she opened her eyes on that day, feeling like shit, knowing her mothers time was running out, she opened them to Spencer. He sat on her bed, reading one of her books. If that was even reading. She had needed two months to finish ‘Eclipse’ when she was younger. He, before she even woke up completely, had read it through. Katharina couldn’t help but laugh a little. Making him look at her a little startled. Then he closed the book and pulled her into a hug.
“Good morning.”, he whispered, kissing the top of her head.
“Morning.”, she looked up to him and kissed his soft lips. “How long have you been awake for?”
“About an hour. I couldn’t go outside tough. Your moms awake.”
“So you just read Twilight?”, he nodded. “Team Edward or Team Jacob?”
“Pardon?”, he looked a little confused.
“Which one do you want Bella to end up with?”, Katharina explained and he nodded.
“Jacob. Out of personal interest.”
“Because she doesn’t want him in that way. The friendzone is something I am quite familiar with.”
“How could somebody not want you?”, a frown appeared on his face and he kissed her forehead.
“You´re a charmer. But believe it or not. There are plenty woman I wanted, that just wanted to be friends.”, Katharina sat up and cocked her head.
“Lila Archer.”, her eyes grew wide.
“The actress?”, he nodded. “No way.”
“When she starred in this beach-teen TV show, before the Rom-Com with Dean Havans, she had a stalker.”, Katharina nodded.
“Yeah, her friend from Julliard, mom watched Lila´s interview with ’60 seconds’ on the news when I was…I think nine or ten.”
“The BAU was working on that case and I, with twenty-four, was her bodyguard.”
“Quit it!”, she hit him playfully and he threw his hands up in the air.
“And you wanted her and she just friendzoned you?”
“No, first she kissed me, making me want her and then she friendzoned me. Bodyguard-movie-effect didn’t last really long.”, she pouted.
“Her loss. And the other?”
“You remember JJ?”, her eyes grew big again.
“You had a thing for her?”
“Big crush. Gideon even bought me VIP tickets for a football game of her favorite team, so I could go there with her. Half way through the game she called me cute and a great friend and that was the official end of our love story.”, Katharina giggled and sat on his lap.
“Oh, poor baby!”, she cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead. “On behalf of every woman on this earth, I want to apologize for these woman not having enough taste to appreciate a masterpiece like you.”, Spencer looked away, his face completely red from blushing. He didn’t seem to know how to handle compliments.
“I´m not that great.”
“The more you try to put yourself down, the more I´m going to praise you.”, he wrapped his arms around her.
“I always wanted my own cheerleader, little girl.”, he whispered, kissing the tip of her nose.
“Then I shall buy myself a cheerleader outfit and some pompoms for your entertainment.”, they heard someone rattle in the kitchen. “Ah. The mother is searching for food. I should help her before she messes up my system. By the way, pink.”
“What?”, he raised his eyebrows.
“My room. I´m gonna make it pastel pink. As cute and pretty as possible. You wanted me to tell you first. Remember, wall colors and mental health?”
He nodded, remembering the conversation that was quickly ended by Penelope and Emily showing up.
“We should buy you some paint then, huh?”
“I can buy it with the money you´ve send, Spencer. You don-“, he shushed her.
“That´s your pocket money. For you to buy nice stuff. Necessities are on me. Plus, I insist on buying you a good bed.”, she kissed his neck, playfully biting him, before looking at him.
“For us to play in?”
“I wanted to say, so that you´re well rested, but when you want me to come over and fuck you into your mattress like a litt-“, Katharina put her hand over his mouth.
“Okay, okay. I´ll stop.”
His giggles and cocky grin caused butterflies in her stomach, making her once again appreciate this perfect man.
“Thanks, by the way. You were there for me even though I didn’t ask you to.”
“You don’t need to ask. I´ll always be there for you.”, his honest words made her giggle. Perfect.
“I am so going to buy a cheerleader uniform.”, they again heard Liz in the kitchen. “When she asks, you came over to look if I´m okay, since I forgot we wanted to spend the evening together and we fell asleep.”
“That’s exactly what happened, Babydoll.”, he chuckled and she thought a little before giggling.
“Oh, right…At least we don’t have to lie then. Do I look like I cried myself to sleep?”, he shook his head.
“Just a little tired.”
“Good. Gotta be happy.”
Katharina got up and walked outside, Spencer following her quietly, taking his gun from her vanity. At the kitchen isle of stood Liz, cutting something with a large knife. When she looked up her eyes got wide.
“Good mo- Kitty. I- I didn’t know you had a visitor.”, she put the knife away, making Spencer sigh in relieve, and walked up to him. “We know each other, right? The man from the FBI. Spencer, right?”, he shook her hand while nodding.
“Y-Yeah. Hello.”, Liz playfully hit Katharina´s shoulder.
“Why didn’t you tell me, you have someone over?”, Katharina walked over to the isle and continued cutting the avocado and putting it on the already toasted bread.
“You were asleep.”, she answered handing the toast to her mom. “Coffee?”, Spencer nodded.
“Still, it would be embarrassing to run into your half naked boyfriend at night.”, Liz sat down on the dinner table and began eating, waving Spencer over to sit next to her.
“He´s not- Spencer is a friend who came over after I accidentally forgot about him yesterday. We wanted to hang out.”, the redhead handed Spencer a cup and sat across from him with a cup of tea.
“And then he just comes over in the middle of the night?”, Spencer nodded.
“I apologize for coming unannounced. After Katharina didn’t show up and me, trying to call her for seven hours, didn’t work, I got worried something might have happened. A habit that comes with working at the FBI, I guess.“, Liz waved him off.
“After seven hours I would´ve done the same. I completely understand that.”
“Mom even waits till I´m in a building, before leaving.”, she gave her mother a teasing look.
“That is one of my habits. Thanks to your father.”, Katharina looked confused and Liz turned to Spencer. “When she was ten, he tried kidnapping her and taking her to Russia with him.”
“Really?”, Spencer looked at Katharina shocked, who couldn’t remember a thing about that.
“No. No, he just left us.”
“No, Kitty. We broke up when you were ten and he moved out but came around all the time, to be with you. Something work-related happened and he wanted us all to move to Russia. I said no and he left for a few weeks.”, she took another bite of her toast. “One day, I had just dropped you off at school, I had to turn around because you forgot your lunch box in the car. When I arrived I saw him as he tried getting you to go to his car with him. That bastard had waited for you outside of your school.”, Katharina looked at Spencer frowning. “When he saw me he just grabbed you and ran to his car. I ran up to him with my taser and electrocuted the hell out of him. He had broken your wrist with the force he had grabbed you with. I then told him, that if he´d ever try to get near you again, I would kill him.”
Katharina thought of every moment she was able to remember with her father. She couldn’t remember him ever being near her school. Had he really tried getting her to live in Russia with him? Her head felt like it was spinning. She decided not to tell her mother about Dimitri showing up at the BAU, he didn’t seem to be a threat like that anymore and it would only worry Liz. His idea of them both in Russia probably died after her mom had grilled him like chicken.
“I- I….Why don’t I remember that?”, Spencer took a sip from his coffee and began gesturing.
“Most likely due to the trauma. Especially given that you also were also physically hurt. It often happens that if a young child is put through something terrifying that is much for them to handle, that the mind just suppresses the incident to protect the child´s mental health. When I asked you about your father you couldn’t really answer and just told me that he left you both.”
“Because it felt like that. I mean, I remember that I had a cast when I was ten, but I always thought that happened while riding a bike or something like that…and there I was thinking I had no trauma.”
“However, that was the reason I started to always wait till you´re inside a building, before leaving.”
“Huh, and you really told him you would kill him?”, Liz nodded.
“Not gonna let that guy take my baby to Russia.”
The brown haired woman answered cold, before getting up to clean her plate.
“And what are you two doing today?”, she asked smiling sweetly again.
“Since we have the day off, I offered Katharina to buy paint and things for her room today.”
“Kitty, I wanted to talk with you about it anyway. I think we should switch rooms.”
“Why?”, the girl raised her eyebrows.
“I´ll only have a few months left. You should get the master bedroom. I´m okay with the smaller one. Mine even has a bathroom.”, Katharina shook her head.
“Don´t ‘Kitty’ me. You´re gonna stay in your room and that´s it.”, she looked at Spencer. “I´m gonna get changed, so we can leave.”
“But when you live alo-“
Katharina got up and walked into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Liz looked at Spencer who sat awkwardly at the dinner table and shrugged, more to herself than him.
“The stubbornness is from my side of the family. Did she tell you…?”, he nodded.
“I know, yes.”
“How is she handling it?”, Spencer only shook his head. “Yes, kinda thought she was to calm yesterday.”
“How are you handling it?”, she sighed.
Liz gave spencer a gentle smile and set across him at the table.
“I´ve made my peace with it a long time ago. I just thought I had a little longer.... Do you have a girlfriend?”, he shook his head. “FBI or personal?”
“A bit of both. Life becomes difficult, when all you do since you were twenty-two, is to catch serial killers.”, including him being a dumpster fire, but that wasn’t something he should tell her.
“You like Katharina, don´t you?”
“I- I- Not like-“, Spencer couldn’t help but studder.
“I´m not easy to fool, Spencer. So don’t even try it. How old are you?”, she chuckled.
“Means I´m closer to you in age than Katharina.”, he sighed.
“I- I know.”
“She said no, but are you two…”, he shook his head.
“No, ma’am…We´re just best friends.”, and she was his sugar baby. Lying to a dying woman, not Spencer best move, but telling her the truth would´ve probably been worse.
“You should leave it like that. She´s too young for you, you´d only hurt each other.”
“I know.”, he couldn’t help but feel bad.
“How is your relationship with your mother, Spencer?”, her question caught him off-guard.
“Technically good, but…I- I don’t think it´s comparable to yours. S-She has paranoid schizophrenia and suffers from alzheimer´s. She often doesn’t recognize me anymore.”
“Must be terrible, but you know that deep down she still loves you more than anything, right?”, Spencer swallowed hard, he knew.
“Would you do something for a dying mother, that has to leave her baby alone in this world?”, her voice got serious and her look on him stern.
“See, I thought I did the right thing by raising her as a dutiful, compassionate, strong woman.”
“You did. She´s amazing.”
“But she sacrificed so much in her life. Her teen years, having friends, going to college. She thinks I take all of this too light hearted, but trust me, it breaks my heart. Knowing I won’t be there when she finally meets somebody, when she becomes a mother herself, when she finds the happiness she deserves…and oh god, does this girl deserve to be happy…When I die, she will hit rock bottom. She dedicated her entire life to caring for me. When I, as a mother, should have cared for her. And all I am able to leave her behind, are my depts.”, tears started running down her face and Spencer took her hand.
“I just wanna know that somebody will be there to pick her up again, to be there for her, when I am no longer able to. You are the first person I see, having a deeper connection with her. Promise me, you´ll be that somebody for her.”
Spencer would´ve loved to say no. He wasn’t good at something like that. He neither deserved this amount of trust nor was good enough to live up to Liz expectations. He was a mess. Nothing more than a man that paid Katharina to be his girlfriend. But what was he going to do? Deny a dying woman her wish? Of course not.
“I´ll promise, Liz.”, he promised with a serious tone. Liz stood up and hugged Spencer, he normally would´ve felt uncomfortable, but the sheer thankfulness in her doing made it unable for him to do so.
“Don’t tell her about this conversation tough. She´ll ground us both”, a bittersweet laugh left her lips.
“My lips are sealed.”, still he felt not worth her trust. When Katharina came out of her room she looked it, putting the key in her purse. She gave her mother a stern look.
“When I come home and you tried to move rooms I am gonna burn this apartment to the ground, got it?”
Liz laughed and Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle. Katharina, in her babypink, cropped, teddy hoodie, high-waisted, light-blue jeans and white converse was pretty…but far from intimidating. She just didn’t seem to know that.
“Calm down, my little fire devil. You can keep your room.”, she walked up and hugged her mom, burying her face in her shoulder.
“I love you, mom.”
“Oh, I love you too, Kitty.”, Liz kissed the top of Katharina´s head and said her goodbyes to Spencer as Katharina was pulling him out of the apartment.
They drove to Spencer´s where he took a shower and put on some fresh clothes, while watching her unpack the grey duffle bag she had brought. When he glanced over the things, he could see the tags on some of them still attached. This gave him a happy feeling, knowing that she actually bought new clothes. Then he looked at a small pile of bra´s and underwear. Most of it was lace and pink, but there where also some simple once in basic colors. Katharina grinned at him, when she caught him starring.
“Perv…”, she snickered, making him walk around the bed and smack her butt slightly. “You like my new stuff?”
“Mhm…Can´t wait to help you take it off.”, he kissed her forehead. “So…babypink seems to be your favorite color.”, she nodded.
“It´s nice and girly. I like girly stuff.”
“You and Penelope would get along great then. By the way…I think we need to talk.”, Katharina´s eyes widened and she looked at him concerned.
“Did I do something wrong?”, she asked with a nervous voice. Spencer quickly put on a loving tone.
“What. No, Babydoll.”, he sat on the bed and pulled her on his lap. “There was a problem yesterday at work.”
“A problem?”, he nodded.
“Penelope did some deep diving at your fathers history and when she found out about you moving here and getting a lot of money since we met…”
“She knows I´m a sugar baby?”, she started to frown.
“Well, yeah. I had to tell her, because first she thought you were a russian spy, trying to seduce me to get information’s from me. She promised not to tell anybody though.”, he started placing little butterfly kisses on her neck and cheeks.
“A spy?”, he nodded. “Is a fear like that normal in your job?”
“Not always, but it´s still the FBI we´re talking about, little girl.”
“I wouldn’t even be a good spy.”, Spencer was surprised, she seemed to be more annoyed about being called a spy than a sugar baby.
“What makes you think that? I would love nothing more than to surrender to you and give you all I have.”
“I´m basically a pet.”, she said after a little thinking.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. What was going on inside her pretty little head, that made her think of something like that.
“What?”, she wrapped her arms around his neck and started to explain.
“Think about it. You´re the one who pays for all of my necessities and all I do is sit on your couch and wait for you to get home and spend time with me.”
“That´s not true. You cook, we talk, you buy groceries, you care for me and your mom…Your like my cuddle therapist.”
“That´s cute, but I still feel useless.”
“What can we do to make that change?”
“I don’t know.”, she shrugged.
“How about you really start going to college? I´d love to pay for your education, plus, I am the world’s best tutor. Maybe I´m even going to be one of your professors. Of course that depends on which college you chose and which subjects…”, she made big eyes.
“You´re a professor?”, he nodded.
“Part-time, yeah. Since prison I have to take thirty days off for every hundred I work. That´s why I decided to teach. Semester starts in a couple weeks, if you want, we can check if we find something you´d like.”, she kissed him and gave him a dirty grin.
“Sounds like you wanna play with a teacher and student fantasy?”, Spencer chuckled.
“Maybe a little, but mainly I want you to be happy.”
“Given the talk about me being a pet…”, she started to giggle.
“Yes, you´re probably going to be my teacher´s pet, kitten.”, he kissed her.
“Hey, let´s say I really start going to college…”
“Then I´m gonna need you to buy me a desk to do my homework at, daddy.”, she giggled while playing with his tie. “Okay, that was kinda hot.”, Spencer helped her up.
“It sure was, little girl. Better buy you a stable one, I have some ideas and it would be a shame if the desk would collapse underneath you.”, he clapped her butt and walked out of the room. “Let´s go.”
Give me your feedback [also anonymous!]
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed)
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Spencer: friends with benefits is a scam! Turns out the benefit is sex. I was mislead.
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The BAU as Chaotic Cakes:
Because I have therapy at nine in the morning and I must project as much mental illness as I can into the world before it changes me into an emotionless neurotypical robot <3
Penelope (she gets two):
thank you all <3
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pain: gone, gone
description: reader escapes from abductor.
warnings: mention of wounds, blood, and sexual assault
the cold breeze blows your already tangled hair. your vision blurs at the edges, and your long t-shirt provides little warmth.
you have been running for what feels like years. you know you lost him, but you have to keep going.
you have no idea where you are. the only visual recognition you have of the small, quiet town is a starbucks. but it’s closed, like everything else. and even if it was open, you wouldn’t be allowed to go in looking the way you do.
you wear nothing but your underclothes and a long t-shirt. your hair is a knotted mess, and your eyes are wild and large. cuts and bruises decorate you’re body, and blood covers any exposed skin. the only place where the blood isn’t present are your cheeks, where tears pushed the blood away.
you have no idea what time it is, only the understanding that it’s late. the sky’s dark, and everything’s closed. if you’re vision and head would stop spinning, you would have been able to guess that it was about 3am, based on the position of the moon in the sky.
your breath is ragged as you search for an open shop, anywhere to get help.
the night and fog seems to swallow you. you don’t have time to wait around for morning. you are about to give up, curl into a ball and wish for death because you should have died weeks ago, but then you see a red beacon of hope.
a telephone booth.
seven weeks and seven hours earlier.
the moonlight casts an eerie glow on the corn maze. you hold your gun out in front of you, your flashlight under it.
your breath creates small clouds, and the stalks of corn rustle as you prowl through them.
the unsub abducts women in their twenties, sexually abuses them, and tortures them in a variety of ways, all over a span of one to two weeks. and you and the team have tracked him to this small farmhouse. it’s not where he performs the murders, but it’s where he resides.
you lost spencer a few minutes when he took a different turn, but you’re confident in your ability to take down the unsub alone.
a rustling in the distance catches your attention. your body tenses, and you slowly and silently follow the sound. you hold your flashlight out, keeping your hand steady as you turn a corner, two fingers on the trigger of the gun.
but in the next few seconds, your gun will do you no good.
because as you turn the corner, your head collides with cold metal. and you collapse.
your shakily dial the number etched into your brain. it takes a few tries, because your hands are wobbly and stiff, but the phone eventually begins to ring.
and it rings.
and then stops.
“hello, this is penelope garcia, technical analyst for the behavioral analysis unit of the fbi, how can i assist you?”
and the familiar voice clogs your throat. a tear spills from your eyes.
“hello, how can i assist you”
and for the first time in weeks your lips part and almost form a smile.
“hello, is anyone there?”
and you try and control your breathing, try and talk.
“p-p-penel...penelope.” you breathe, your voice hoarse and scratchy from the weeks of silence, and little water.
“oh my god! oh my god! y/n!” she gasps, and you can hear her voice break. but you know she’s happy.
“penel- penelope....please” you choke out, collapsing against the wall of the booth due to exhaustion.
“hold on y/n, i’m locating you.” you hear frantic typing, and penelope speaks again. “we were so worried, we thought you were... we’ve been trying to find you, i can’t believe it’s you!”
they thought i was dead. and the funny thing is, you think you were too. you felt dead. after weeks of laying in a small cell, being repeatedly violated and tortured, you started to feel dead.
“ok y/n, i have your location. we’ll be there as soon as we can. i’m going to hang up now, please be safe”
two-thousand, five-hundred eighty-five miles away.
the team, minus you, sits in the briefing room. sloppy outfits, eye bags, and a hopeless expression is one thing they all share. the common denominator.
everyone has dressed in dark tones, even garcia, like you’re already dead, and they’re attending one big, long funeral.
at first, garcia tried to keep up her usual quirky, colorful outfits, but after two weeks, it started to become hard.
in the past seven weeks, most of the teams time has been spent in the briefing room, looking over files and trying to find leads. the case was closed after a month of silence from the unsub, but the team is still desperately trying to find you.
emily is about to share an idea about where you could be (that is rather far-fetched) but garcia swiftly enters the room.
everyone knows what the wide smile on her face means.
back to y/n.
you’ve been on the phone with garcia for an hour. she says the team is coming. she says you’re in gabbs, nevada.
now she says they’ll be within 200 yards of you in 5 minutes.
the breath leaves your body.
seven weeks. seven weeks with seeing no one but your abuser.
and now your team is coming. your friends are coming to save you.
a few tears slip out of your eyes, and you look at the sky as a joyful sob leaves your body.
“you’re going to be ok, y/n” penelope says.
the sound of speeding vehicles fills your ears. the quiet that you’ve grown accustomed to is gone, replaced with the sounds of your saviors.
you drop the phone, leaving it dangling from the cord, and rush out of the telephone booth into the street. about two-hundred yards away, you see a black suv pull over, and a group of people get out.
“i’m here....help!” you try to yell, but it comes out hoarsely, and quiet.
they don’t see you.
but then, someone turns.
a tall, skinny figure. with a mess of brown hair.
and he stands there, shocked.
you run toward him, limping slightly.
“spencer,” you cry, and he runs toward you.
you crash into him, and he pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead. he’s calling the team on his radio, and he’s crying, and he’s blaming himself, and your tears are mixing, but you don’t feel dead anymore. you’re going to be ok.
you and spencer are silent. just embracing each other, and crying.
the rest of the team comes, followed by an ambulance. emily’s and jj’s and derek’s and hotch’s and rossi’s voices all mix, but the only voice you notice is spencer.
“i thought i lost you,” he says, resting his head on mine. i shake my head feebly, my tears blurring my vision.
“i love you,” he whispers into my head, and i feel my heart stop.
he loves me. and i love him.
“i love you too.”
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