Tumgik
#dr.spencerreid
Text
Daydreams Turn to Reality (fluffy/smut)
Tumblr media
Summary: Autistic! Reader has a meltdown at the office.. Thankfully, her teammate Dr. Spencer Reid was nearby to help.
CW: Sensory overload, Autistic meltdown, crying, mentions to weight of reader (spencer picks her up), grinding
AN: Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this one-shot! I have been in a deep depressive state for a few weeks, but I finally am feeling better to start writing again.. Aka start writing more chapters for “Beautifully Broken”! Love you all! <3
Word Count: 4800
--
Spencer’s POV:
Ever since I was young, I have had an active imagination.
Perhaps it was the myriad of books my mother had read to me every night before bed. Or maybe it was the fact that my daydreams had always been better than my real life.
But that’s what daydreams are, right? An escape from the real-world to a better reality.
Up until the moment that I met her, I had only ever found myself dreaming of dragons and aliens. Sure, I had my visions of a happier life, but I really only dreamt of preternatural creatures. However now, I found myself only dreaming of her.
I mean, how could I not?
She was perfect.
Her voice sounded of wind chimes on a warm, breezy summer afternoon. Like soft strings being strung by a violinist. Her voice moved life honey; slow and sweet, and always sticking to me. Her laugh sounded like the most ethereal ring, a certain stubborn blush always rising up my face once I heard the noise. And don’t even get me started on how beautiful she was. She looked like the golden, joyous rays of sunshine that shone through the clouds on a previously rainy and cold day; immediately filling your senses with warmth and light. She smelled of sticky cinnamon buns, sweet Georgia peaches, and laundry just pulled out of the dryer. She lit up any dull room with her alacrity; her energy was palpable.. It was also contagious.
Any aloof person that would never smile, seemed to have a brighter life whenever she entered into their vicinity.
I dreamt of what it would be like to kiss her. How would her lips feel against mine? Would the kiss move like her voice; slow and sweet? Or would it match her giddy energy and be stuttery and erratic? Maybe both?
These thoughts always seemed to take up every square inch of my mind, every minute of every single day.
In the past, I may have dreamt of fictional creatures, but now I was dreaming of fictional scenarios with the angelic woman that sat in front of me at her desk every day.
I tried to show her how much I was falling for her every minute I could, however, she was like me when it came to social cues. Clueless. Completely clueless.
So, I showed her my affection through small plush toys.
They seemed to always comfort the girl whenever her anxiety would peak. Not to mention how excited and cute she got when I gifted her the stuffed animals.
She would let me know how she was feeling through colors, and when she was seemingly having a tough day, for instance when she told me she felt orange, I went out on my lunch break later that day and purchased an orange bunny rabbit plush for her.
Once I gifted her the toy, her face lit into a crimson blush, almost as red as the stuffed animal. She smiled and gave me a hug. That was the first time she initiated contact with me.
Ever since then, she was very touchy-feely towards me, which inevitably fueled my growing love for the beautiful girl.
Today, she walked, no, ran into the bullpen, her headphones resting around her neck as she clutched her bag, walking to her desk.
Butterflies fluttered in my belly and chest as I felt myself beginning to blush.
“Spencer!” she squealed, running to my desk, a smile spread across her face.
“Hello!” I exclaimed.
“Guess what?”
“What?” I laughed at her excitement.
“Garcia brought in homemade muffins!”
I gasped, Y/n giggling at my dramatics.
“Bet you I can beat you to the last blueberry one,” she smirked, a mischievous look glinting in her dazzling eyes.
“Oh, it’s on!” I squinted my eyes at her, standing up from my desk.
She laughed, the sound making my brain fuzzy for a moment as I didn’t even realize she began to run off. I ran after her, grabbing her by the waist and picking her up as I set her down behind me, my name falling from her mouth between giggles as I ran off.
Moments later, we both made it to Garcia’s office, our heavy breathing causing the quirky woman in front of us to widen her eyes in concern. She walked up to Y/n, completely ignoring me as she cradled the giggling girl’s face.
Y/n was only comfortable with Garcia and me touching her--especially me. That’s why Penelope only held her face, Y/n was only comfortable with that sort of contact from her, as well as a hug but nothing more. However I, on the other hand, was allowed to hug, touch, and carry her. The fact that she was completely comfortable with me made my crush grow.
I was happy that I was a comfort person for the young girl. Not only did it make me ecstatic, but it also made her feel over the moon at the fact that she was growing.
“Oh, my goodness! Are you okay?” Garcia asked, her eyebrows drawn together in worry.
Y/n laughed, causing my small smile to stretch into a toothy-grin.
“Yep! We just came for the muffins!” Y/n explained, and Garcia nodded knowingly, a small chuckle escaping her throat as she let go of the girl and picked up the large plate that smelled of delicious, freshly baked sweets.
I grabbed the last blueberry muffin before Y/n, a small whine escaping her throat. She looked up at me with her starry eyes, a pleading look on her face. Truthfully, I was going to give her the muffin in the end. However she didn’t need to know that.
I smiled, presenting her with the muffin as she giggled happily, her arms slinging around my neck as I took in her intoxicatingly sweet scent.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she blabbered, biting into the muffin and humming happily as she skipped away. “Bye, Spencer! Bye, Penny!” she called, waving to me as she turned the corner.
“Bye!” Penelope and I both called back, a smile gracing my lips as I looked fondly at the corner she had just rounded, as if she was still there.
I was so entranced by the girl that I totally forgot Garcia stood in front of me with a smirk on her face.
“What?” I asked.
‘“‘What?’” She mocked my voice, smiling smugly at me. “What do you mean, what? You are in lo-ove with Prettygirl over there!” Garcia sang, and I immediately felt my face get warm.
“Wh-? I am not in-in love!” I squeaked, and Garcia laughs, humming a quick sure.
I walk away quickly, thanking Garcia for the muffin.
I am definitely in love with Y/n.
How could I not be?
Shit.
--
Around lunchtime, I began to notice that Y/n grew anxious, her face strewn together in worry.
The sight made my heart squeeze in my chest.
She mostly kept her head down, except her eyes kept on flicking around the room hastily. She gulped a few times, fidgeting with a rubber band and a pencil; the pencil acting as a pick to strum the stretched band that looped around her fingers in a triangle shape.
I wanted to go up and ask if she needed any assistance, however I didn’t want to make anything worse than it already was... or overwhelm her more.
“Reid! Can I see you in my office for a moment? I just want to make sure you got the correct files from the case last week.” Hotch announced from his office.
I glanced at Y/n, who’s eyes flickered up at mine, a pleading look lacing her facial expressions.
I reluctantly stood up from my desk, nodding my head at Hotch as I walked up the stairs to his office, telephones sounding throughout the BAU.
I could understand how she felt overwhelmed. Heck, I felt overwhelmed a lot of the time. Between the sounds of pencils scratching on paper, the incessant sound of coffee brewing, computers clacking, files being flipped through, phones ringing and people chatting.. It can be very anxiety inducing as well as just an overwhelming environment to work and be in..Especially when you are on the spectrum.
However, Hotch closed the door behind him, separating me from the beautiful--but anxious girl that sat at her desk, fidgeting away, her head twitching slightly.
-
As Hotch and I were about to finish our meeting, we both heard a loud cry. My heart began to race. I knew that cry.
A year ago, Y/n had a meltdown in a cafe. It was really upsetting for her and she struggled to leave her apartment for weeks.
I ran out, Hotch following behind me.
JJ, Morgan, Emily, and Garcia all huddled around Y/n’s desk, however, Y/n was not sitting in her chair, rather, she was huddled underneath the table; her knees pressed up against her chest as she pressed her palms against her ears as she cried.
I ran over, the team’s faces scrunched in concern and confusion.
“Spence! I-I don’t know what happened! One minute she was at her desk, and then I dropped a coffee cup and she started to scream and cry.” JJ stammered, running her fingers through her hair.
As she spoke, I heard the crying girl repeat two words over and over.
Too much, too much, too much.
My heart sank in my chest. “It’s alright, it wasn’t your fault, okay? She was just overwhelmed.” I reassured the blonde, who exhaled shakily, nodding.
I turned back to the girl who began to scream as more people surrounded her.
One man tried to touch her.
Oh, no.
“Hey, get away from her!” I exclaimed, and the man stopped, throwing me a dirty look. People seemed to clear away as they flashed us weird and worried looks.
“Please!” she cried, the word harsh and forced through puckered cheeks.
I got down on my knees, crawling under Y/n’s desk.
“Hey, Y/n,” I said softly, trying my best to calm her. She didn’t look up as expected, instead she kept her hands plastered on her ears. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” I shushed her, shrugging my jacket off of my body and wrapping it around her shaking frame.
I heard her reciting words under her breath.
“Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Connecticut..”
She rocked faster on her tailbone, smacking her head on the inside of her desk repeatedly as she recited the states in alphabetical order.
I remembered reciting the states in alphabetical order was something she did to calm down from last time.
I knew what to do.
I had dealt with similar situations myself.
I knew how to deal with her meltdowns as well.
“Alabama, Alaska, Arizona..!” she sobbed, her eyes shut tightly as she continued on listing the states.
I brought my hand behind her head, keeping her from developing bruising from how hard she was hitting her head.
“Reid..” Morgan spoke, but I ignored him, only turning around to tell everyone to go back to their desks.
I wrapped my arms tightly around her body, shushing her.
She liked when I did this. It was a comfort tactic for her. She felt secure.
Eventually, her cries dissipated as I reached into her bag to grab her black headphones, her body clinging to mine as I put them on over her ears, her right hand fidgeting with the back of her hair and her left clinging to her pant leg as I embraced her tightly.
“Do you want it tighter or looser?” I whispered.
“Tight,” she managed to squeak out, to which I squeezed my arms around her, demonstrating how to take deep breaths as she followed along, her body calming down as well as her cries.
“Is this okay?” I asked, to which she nodded.
I shushed her until she looked up at me, her body still shaking from the aftermath.
“Do you want to go home? It’s close to 9 already,” I offered.
“Mhm. B-but can I go to your apartment? I don’t wan’ be alone.”
My eyes softened. “Of course.. C’mon. Do you have a color of how you’re feeling?” I asked.
“O-orange.” She whimpered, and I grabbed her bag as she clung to my body.
“Okay, how were you feeling earlier?” I asked.
“D-dark red.”
“That’s good, that it’s better. Come on, let’s get home, okay?” She nodded, her feet shuffling as I walked, the side of her torso pressed up against mine.
I would text Hotch when we arrived home, but for now, I was only focused on the girl and her tight grasp on my clothing.
--
It was a silent walk up to my apartment.
She had become mute once I began driving, her upper body swaying forwards and backwards as she repeated the contiguous United States under her breath. I turned off all music and made sure to avoid any speed bumps or potholes that were on the road. I didn’t want to make the situation worse.
Although, when I helped her out of the car her body clung to mine automatically.
I slipped my shoes off once we made it inside, and I noticed how Y/n’s eyes were closed, her breathing calmed.
I knew she wasn’t asleep and that she was just in a shocked after-phase, however, I couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked in the dim lighting.
I mean, she always looked beautiful.. All of the time.
I felt guilty for the butterflies that fluttered in my belly at the sight of her.
“Is it okay if I pick you up?” I asked softly, brushing some of the loose strays of her hair out of her face. She nodded lazily, wrapping her arms around me. I smiled at that.
I picked her up, walking to my room and then setting her down on the pillows gently. I pulled the shoes off of her feet and then loosened the tie around my neck, unbuttoning my white dress shirt a bit. I tucked her in tightly, then began to walk away as I thought she was asleep. I was going to sleep on the couch. However, her hand flew up from the sheet, her doe eyes looking up at me.
“Spencer, p-please don’t leave. Stay with me.”
I smiled softly, contemplating.
If I did this, my love for her would grow and I would ultimately have a broken heart in the end.
However, she needed me.
Thus, I slipped under the covers next to her, her hands grabbing at my clothes and pulling me closer as I chuckled lightly. Butterflies exploded in my stomach and fluttered around in my chest.
My body heat seemed to ebb away any previous anxiety that she withheld. Her breathing slowed and she snuggled up closer to my chest, soft snores sounding from her nose. I smiled, pulling her closer to me as she nuzzled her head in the crook of my neck.
Eventually, my eyelids began to flutter closed as I fell into a deep slumber, the beautiful girl in my arms making my whole entire heart and mind happy. So happy in fact, that my dreams were only about the most beautiful things-- like watching the stars twinkle in the sky as Y/n and I cuddled on a picnic blanket in Zhangye Danxia Geopark, a geological park located in China. I imagined the vast expanse of mountains surrounding us, the air fresh and chilly, prompting Y/n to snuggle up closer to my body for warmth.
Although the view was beautiful and spectacular, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the young woman thats arms were tightly wrapped around my torso.
I was practically hypnotized by her.
--
I woke up the next morning to feather-soft touches over my cheeks and a brightness blooming through my chest and body as a content sigh fell from my lips. I didn’t open my eyes, but my hands began to roam over the unfamiliar-- yet comforting terrain within my grasp.
I felt smooth, warm skin that rippled with goosebumps all over before I could even get to certain patches-- as though the tissue estimated where my fingertips would travel to next. Nimble legs wound around mine upon my insinuation. It felt like a dream--an even better dream than the one I had earlier on the night previous. It was better in that it was real--not made up from the abyss of my imagination. My hand on her lower back brought her closer, pressing her against me before I could even realize that I’d blurred the lines between reality and my dreams and fantasies.
This was real.
Scenarios like these that kept me entertained for so long had now become my actuality.
But I didn’t panic; I had no reason to. I melted into the touch of the beautiful being that laid intertwined limb by limb with my body.
Finally, when I opened my eyes, I saw her tranquil stare. She looked at me with a wide-eyed, yet tired-eyed, fascination from just mere inches away. It took what little breath I had away from me as I stared back at her with all the love that I could muster in my weary expressions.
“Good morning,” I whispered softly, causing her eyes to flicker down to my lips. My hands drew small patterns on her soft, yet chilled skin. It was hard for me to tell how much of her longing was real or imagined, created by my lovesick, oxygen-deprived brain as we stayed wrapped up in each other under the satin covers.
“Clear.”
It was a strange and beautiful thing to say to me in the wee hours of the early morning, however, something about the tone of her voice told me that she felt happy.
To be sure, I asked. “Is that a good thing?”
Again, her eyes flickered to my lips as her pointer finger drew a soft line across my chin, all the way up to my bottom lip as she traced across it in amazement. Something so small, which made my tender lip tingle, lit my skin into a small fire. A small, shy, smile ghosted across her lips.
With a quiet voice she answered. “It's a new one. And technically clear isn't a color. But yes.”
I smiled softly, my eyes raking over her features as I tried to memorize this moment.
She then hoisted herself up on her forearms, my hand dropping from her upper back to the small of her back. My thumb was still drawing soft patterns on her warm skin, that was now unclothed as her shirt rode up. She swung a leg over my waist, now straddling my torso as my hands shifted to lying on her hips. She giggled, the sound hatching the once caterpillars from the cocoons that they slept in in my chest, now fully butterflies that fluttered lovingly around my system as I smiled at the soft hiccups she produced in between each laugh.
She leaned forward, her chest basically pressed against my face, but she was careful not to suffocate me. She toyed with my hair, my hands still on her waist as I was careful to not push boundaries.
“I like your hair. It’s curly and soft.” She sighed, my eyes closing at the feeling of her running her fingers through my bed-head hair.
“Thank you,” I murmured, squeezing her waist softly.
She sat up, taking my left hand from her waist and running her fingers along the pads of mine, then the digits of my knuckles as she wrapped her small, cold hand in mine.
“I like your hands too. They’re big and warm.” she accounted, pressing my hand that was intertwined with hers to her warm cheek that now had a small blush dancing on it.
I smiled, “I appreciate it. I like your hands too.”
“Really?” she asked, her voice small.
I nodded, a light chuckle falling from my lips.
“Yes, really. I like everything about you. I really like you.”
The admittance made my stomach churn with anxiety.
Yet, she beamed with pure joy, falling forward onto my body and hugging my neck as I laughed softly.
She leaned her forehead on mine, my breath hitching in my throat as her eyes flickered down to my lips and her hands played with the bottom of my lavender, silk tie.
“I really like you too,” she whispered, kissing the tip of my nose.
It felt like my heart had burst in my chest-- of course in the best way. The tip of my nose tingled as though her lips were still pressed against it.
My hands rested on her hips as she inched closer to my lips, quickly pressing a kiss on them nervously, slightly pulling away to see my reaction as a small yelp sounded from her throat with anxiety.
However, I diminished her fears as I pressed my hand against her jaw, bringing her back to kiss me again.
The kiss, like her voice, was slow and soft, sticking with me like honey. She brought her hands to my face, squeezing my cheeks together as I laughed into the kiss, my heart fluttering with jubilation. She pulled away with wide eyes. I tried to follow after her lips, but she just laughed.
She bent down and kissed me again, the feeling of her lips against mine better than the myriad of daydreams that I had created in my mind about moments like these.
Soft, slightly lewd noises sounded from our kissing, our tongues twining together as she hummed happily at the feeling.
She pulled away, her hands still pressed against my face.
“I like the feeling of us kissing. The stubble on your face feels weird on mine, but it also feels good. I like the way it makes my skin feel like pins and needles… but much better. It makes me feel happy.”
I laughed.
I was going to shave, but I guess not anymore.
“I’m glad,” I whispered, drawing a small line across her jaw.
“I also like the way my lips feel after we kiss. They feel numb and tingly. But not in a bad way. It’s not like the time that I got my molars extracted and then had to give me seven shots in my gums. My lips felt like a dead fish after. It’s not like that, it feels nice. Really nice. Like I never want to stop. And my stomach gets all queasy--but I love it. I love it a lot.” she whispered.
I laugh softly, holding her chin as I meet my lips with hers for a moment before pulling away.
You’re so cute.” I whisper-laugh.
Her face gets red as her eyes trace over my features before her lips break out into a smile, giggles escaping the back of her throat. My heart flutters at the sound.
She kisses me again, a small whimper leaving her throat and echoing into my mouth as her hips move on my crotch.
I feel myself get hard as her hips move quickly, our lips disconnecting as she giggles, her head being thrown back as my hands stay still on her hips. I’m careful not to squeeze too hard, and to not push boundaries. My hips rut upwards towards hers, and I’m afraid I’ve gone too far as she gasps, but she never stops, the feeling of my pant zipper against her clothed core eliciting a beautiful, sweet and crackly moan to fall from her lips. I groan softly, her face falling from the ceiling to look at me with wide, pleasure-filled eyes as her hips drag across my hard, restrained dick that is pressed against my slacks. The feelings that run through my veins like wildfire make me grunt softly, which only prompts the girl to rock faster on her hips, trying her best to elicit more sounds from me.
Her hands cling onto mine, guiding my lithe fingers to splay out on her as she wraps her fingers in between mine to make me squeeze her clothed skin.
Whines fall from her throat as I squeeze softly, the friction making my orgasm bubble up in the lower depths of my belly.
“Does that feel good, darling?” I ask, now using my hands to drag her slowly up and down my clothed dick as she whines.
She nods, her eyes looking at me through a half-lidded gaze.
I smile softly, her body going limp as I feel her orgasm approaching; as well as mine.
“Sp-Spencer, please don’t make it stop.” she whimpers, yanking onto my tie, extracting a moan to leave my throat.
“I wouldn’t even think of it, love.” I reply, my fingers running up and down her waist as small mewls leave from the back of her throat.
I hear small whispers leave her mouth between her aroused sounds.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you..”
Smiling, I respond. “Are you going to come for me, darling?” I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.
She nods dumbly, her hands dancing around different places to grip my clothing as she looks to stabilize herself. A tear leaves the corner of her eye and I quickly wipe it away, sitting up to kiss her, the new angle at which my pant zipper hits her making her cry out as I press my lips against hers in a breathy kiss. I fall back onto the pillows behind me
Soon, our orgasms hit, and her hips slow as she falls onto my chest.
She laughs, peppering the sensitive tissue of my neck with kisses, and I hum in content.
“I love you, Spencer Reid.” she whispers into my skin, and I feel like I am going to cry.
In fact, I do cry.
She hears sniffling and sits up, inches away from my face as she wipes the fallen tears from my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asks softly, kissing my chin.
“I just- I love you as well.”
A small smile lights up her face.
“Lavender,” she says, kissing my lips and cradling my face. “This is what lavender feels like.”
--
I wake up earlier on Monday morning, before the sleeping angel in my bed wakes.
We spent the whole weekend together, and I’ve never been more happy.
Exchanging our I love you’s was truly something that made my whole entire world glow in a rosey-pink.
Quickly, I run to the store and go through my options; trying to find the perfect one.
Finally, I see it.
A lavender turtle.
I purchase the toy, and drive to my apartment as quickly as possible.
I walk into my room, Y/n’s hair splayed out across the pillows as her soft breathing hums from her nose, her hair and soft skin glowing in the golden, early morning sun.
I smile, my heart practically beating out of my chest with joy.
I kneel next to the bed, running my fingers through her hair and kissing her cheek.
Her eyebrows furrow before she peeks through her half-closed eyelids.
“Spencer?” she murmurs, her voice crackling from just waking up.
“Good morning, love.”
She smiles, suddenly wrapping her hands around my neck and bringing me in for a hug.
I laugh softly.
The bag with the stuffed toy rustles quietly as I lean forward, and she pulls away.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, just something I got for you.” I say nonchalantly, biting my bottom lip down as I try my best not to smile.
“For me?!” She gasps excitedly, trying to grab the bag with her hands.
“Of course for you!” I laugh, running my hand down her arm.
“Oh, please can I have it, Spencer? Please, please, please!” She begs, standing up from bed and I tower over her, Y/n’s hands grasping my shirt.
“Hmm,” I pretended to think, narrowing my eyes at her. She pouts, tugging me down by my shirt to kiss her lips. I pull away. “Oh, alright.”
She giggles excitedly, and I throw the bag away from the toy, pulling the plush from my back, presenting it to her.
She gasps, hugging the toy to her chest as she squeals.
“Spencer! I love it!”
I laugh, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
“I’m glad.” I say, and she wraps her arms around my waist, looking up at me with big eyes.
“Oh my goodness! I love you, so much!”
I smile, looking down at her, small laughs escaping my throat.
“I love you, so much, too.”
She laughs, kissing my lips again, before pulling away slightly.
“Lavender is my favorite color.” she whispers.
“Mine too.” I whisper back, placing my lips on hers softly.
--
415 notes · View notes
huaschengs · 5 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Dr. Spencer Reid Instagram AU Edit
11 notes · View notes
Text
Haircut: A Criminal Minds One Shot
TW: Depictions of self harm (though not too violent, still bear this in mind) and mental illness. Takes place before Reid joins the BAU. Before his mom gets sent to Bennington Sanitorium.
Spencer Reid’s day started off relatively okay. He’d woken up early and had his morning coffee, checked in on his still sleeping mother, and set up some books on the coffee table for her to read when she woke up. He made sure everything was in place, anything pointed or harm inducing was set in a place that would be out of his mother’s reach. He looked one more time at the small apartment, and then exited to go to his humble job at the local bookstore close to home. It was Saturday, so there were no classes.
The day was uneventful, he swept around the shop and made a few sales. Around twelve he had a break for lunch and walked home to check on his mom. He always worried about leaving his mother alone, especially when he was gone for so long. He stopped by a bakery and grabbed a few bagels for his mom and himself, and finally made it to the apartment. He unlocked the door and entered the house,“ Hey mom. I have-” his words caught in his throat as soon as he laid eyes on the room. In the middle of the floor, hair cut and scattered around, drops of blood here and there, his mom was shaking with the scissors in her hands. She was still hacking at her blonde locks, some of which was stained with her own blood from where she had cut herself on her cheeks and ears. Everything fell out of his hands and he rushed to his mom’s side,“ M-mom! Mom put the scissors down! Mom give them to me.” He set a hand on her shoulder and he regretted doing so because soon enough she lashed out, nearly cutting Spencer as well,“ No!” She shrieked. Spencer managed to grab her wrist,“ Mom, mom calm down. It’s Spencer, it’s okay, let go of the scissors.”
“NO! You’re not my son!” She yelled and struggled in her son’s grasp. He shifted to get behind her and hugged her arms to her sides, which made the scissors fall out of her hands. She kicked and Spencer tried whispering soothing words. She didn’t respond, she just kept kicking and screaming, shouting that he w wasn’t her son, that her son would never do this. He tried to not let the words get to him, but each time she said them it felt like she was cutting him with the scissors. He hugged her tighter, continuing to whisper, and eventually started to recite something softly. It was a poem. A poem that she used to read to him. And it worked, she began to calm down, she stopped struggling, and soon she was just hugging her son back. Spencer stood up, his mom still hugging him and walked over the table. He sat her down, a distant look on her face. He stepped back, and walked over to the medicine cabinet. He breathed, realized that he had apparently started crying sometime during the episode and wiped his eyes, and received the proper medication. He poured some juice and brought it over to his mom. Then he picked up the scissors and washed them, washed his hands, and then with a rag, washed his mother’s hands and face. He cleaned her cuts, which she protested every now and then, and sat across from his mom for a few moments. She looked at her hands, wearing a look you would see on a child after they’d disobeyed a parent. He took another breath and spoke,“ Mom, can’t do that. You hurt yourself, that’s not good.”
“But…It was too long.”
“Your hair?”
“Yes, I didn’t want to bother you, so I decided to cut it myself.”
Spencer rubbed his eyes,“ You can’t just do that, Mom. I would have done it of you’d have just asked.” He sighed,“ Where did you find the scissors?”
“In the bathroom. That’s when i saw my hair was too long, and decided to cut it.” Dammit he thought, I…I thought I made sure. He made a mental note to make sure to double check the bathroom from now on.
He was exasperated and she kept her gaze down, some of her still long, jagged bangs falling into her regretful eyes,“ I’m sorry.” He looked back up, and then replied with,“ Please…just don’t do it again.” She nodded solemnly and he sighed once more. He looked at the floor, the blood had started to congeal with some of the hair caught in it. He got up, scrubbed it away, and asked his mom to sit on the bed. He needed to fix her hair. He sat there for thirty minutes. He put on some music, gave her a book to read, and cut away all the ragged edges, all the stray curls, until all that was left was a pixie cut. He sighed, admired his work for a moment and put the scissors safely away and out of reach this time. He checked his watch and realized his lunch break ended about an hour ago. He called his boss nervously, but was told he didn’t have to show up to work. At all, ever again. Well, at least that wasn’t the worst thing to happen that day.
The rest of the day passed, and then it was time for bed. He put his mother to sleep by reading to her, and went into the bathroom. Everything caught up to him in the blink of an eye. All the surprise, the frustration hit him fully all at once. It made him break down, sliding to his knees, face in his hands. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t take care of her. If he left for work or school, she might do it again, but only worse. Even with proper precautions in place. And he couldn’t stay home 24/7. Someone needed to pay for her medicine and the apartment. And he was the only one capable. God, what kind of son was he. He couldn’t do something so simple as make sure his mom didn’t cut herself. He rose to his feet after calming the sobs and cleaned his face with cold water. He thought, and thought. And then it hit him. He opened the door and skulked passed his mother’s room quietly. He reached for their home phone on the coffee table. Second thoughts ran through his head, She’s your mom, your responsibility. You can’t do this to her. She loves it here, she’ll never want to leave. What kind of son does this sort of thing?
But he eventually dialed the number. His finger was twisting the cord of the phone anxiously as it rang three times before a soft, calm voice answered,“ This is Bennington Sanitorium…”
0 notes
fanysantoos · 9 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Imagem através do We Heart It https://weheartit.com/entry/176552330 #dr.spencerreid #hate #her #him #london #love #Reid #spencer #mathewgubbler - https://weheartit.com/entry/176552330
54 notes · View notes
callsignryn · 10 years
Text
do you ever have those times when you go back and forth between your favourite characters and write fanfiction and say "no this is the one I'm going to marry"
0 notes
Text
New ‘Do
Tumblr media
Summary: Reader has a sort of fettish for Spencer's new haircut, and Spencer then explains to the team and reader how he could tell.
CW: talk of hair fettish (obvi lol), describing sexual things, kissing, talk of sex, hair-pulling
AN: hey guys!! So I know this is my second blurby one shot in a row, but idc lol im lazy. i hope you enjoyyy <33
Reader's POV:
Spencer Reid and his hair will officially be the death of me.
Something about the way he styled it always got to me.
During our various sexual encounters, I would always tug his head back with his hair. And of course, he fucking loved it, which only fueled my..fettish for his hair even further.
That's why when he said that he was going to chop off his chestnut locks, I couldn't help but protest.
"But Spencer! I love your long hair!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air dramatically as he chuckled, walking into the kitchen of our apartment to grab a water bottle. He had just told me the news, and I felt like a part of me was going to go missing. I don't care how dramatic I sounded.. It was the truth and only the truth.
"Y/n, I'm just chopping off a few inches! It's gone on to be too long since my last cut.. I look like a nerdy Jesus." he said, opening his water bottle as I crossed my arms in front of my chest.
I walked closer to him, running my fingers through his hair as he took a sip from his water. I looked at his beautiful locks as though they had hypnotized me. "But it's so pretty...I love it. I love to tug on it! Spence, how am I supposed to play with it?" I whined, and Spencer sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he put his hands on my waist.
"Baby, I promise you'll be able to play with my hair once I get it cut. I just need it out of my face for work."
"Then put it in a little bun!" I squeaked, my hands still tangled in his curls. Truthfully, I knew what I was doing was childish, but something about his longer hair made my whole body light into a beautiful flame.
Spencer rolled his eyes jokingly, pulling me to him for a heated kiss to nicely say, shut up. After a moment, he pulled away, leaning his forehead on mine before kissing the tip of my nose.
"I'm getting it cut tomorrow. End of story. So say goodbye to my 'Jesus Reid' haircut," he said, cupping my jaw with his right hand, as he ran his thumb gently along my lips. I sighed in defeat, tugging on Spencer's hair slightly as a whine slipped past his lips.
That's when I got an idea.
I tugged his head all the way back, littering kisses on his neck and sucking on the soft tissue of his skin lightly. Spencer whimpered softly, the sound and his hair woven between my fingers making fire burn course through my veins.
"Aren't you gonna miss me yanking on it?" I asked innocently, showing off my best puppy eyes before I kissed the column of his throat.
"You'll be able to yank on my new hair." he stated simply, gripping my hips with more power.
"But it won't be the same!" I groaned, throwing my arms loosely around his neck. Spencer laughed once more at my dramatics.
"Y/n, I'm getting my haircut tomorrow. There's nothing you can do about it! Now, we have the whole night ahead of us, and if you want to get one last yank on my hair, I suggest we begin now." he said smugly, and I giggled bashfully; following Spencer to the bedroom to begin our fun 'adventures'.
Let's just say: he and I didn't get much sleep that night.
--
The next morning, I awoke to Spencer shutting our apartment door as quietly as possible.
That's when it hit me.
He got his haircut!
I hopped out of bed, rushing into the living room to find Spencer. His beautiful hair had obviously been cut a few inches shorter, giving him a sort of prince look.
And I swear to all things holy, my heart stopped beating.
OH.
MY.
GOD.
I felt heat flood throughout my body as he turned around, his hair sort of messy-- although extremely charming.
I walked up to him, running my fingers through it as he laughed.
"Well good morning to you too." he greeted, planting his hands on my waist before asking me a quick, "How do you like it? I think I'll change it soon but it's good enough for now."
"No!" I squeaked, feeling my cheeks warm up as I pulled him to me, kissing his lips fervently as I whimpered against him.
Spencer was about to put his hands on my face before we heard an incessant ringing from his bag.
"Fuck," he breathed, kissing my lips softly before fishing for his phone that was hidden away in his satchel. He retrieved it, flashing me the screen to show me who was calling. Damn it! It was Hotch. 
Spencer answered it, holding the phone up to his ear as I made my way to him, beginning to suck on his neck and collar bones as he spoke. "O-Okay, yes I-I'll tell her. A-alright. Bye."
He hung up, groaning softly when I sucked on the sweet spot of his neck. "Y-Y/n, we have a case, baby."
I sighed, kissing my way up to his lips.
"So I'm guessing you like my hair?" he chuckled, and I nodded fervently, biting my bottom lip. 
"Good." 
Spencer smiled, bending his neck down a bit to lightly kiss my lips, before telling me we had to go as soon as possible.
I reluctantly agreed, wanting more from him but turned around and walked back to our bedroom as I began to get ready.
A few minutes later, we each grabbed our things and headed out the door to the BAU jet to do the briefing of the case.
Oh, boy.
This was going to be a long one.
--
We had made it on the jet, the team's reactions to Spencer's haircut full of hilarity.
JJ was the first to say something, who did a swift, "Well, hello."
Spencer had pressed his lips into a thin line, a confused look on his face as he looked around; seeing the team member's stare.
Hotch was next to say something, in which he furrowed his bushy eyebrows together to prompt the question that made the whole team burst out laughing: "What, did you join a boyband or something?"
Spencer's eyebrows crinkled together as he spouted, "W- No."
"Awe, come on guys I love it." I said, taking a hold of Spencer's hand under the table as he smiled at me, his cheeks a light pink.
"That's because you're in love with him, pretty girl." Derek teased, flashing a toothy grin at me as I felt my face get warm.
The team laughed a bit more, agreeing with Derek's sentence before Hotch began the briefing.
Our case was based in Boise, Idaho.. Apparently, a serial killer had been revealed to have been posting his murders on the Internet, accumulating quite a collection of fans in the process.
Ew.
Disgusting.
Now, we were about an hour into the plane ride, and I tried distracting myself with my book, but I just couldn't.
I couldn't stop myself from staring.
He was so addicting to look at.
He noticed my gaze on him as he looked back at me. 
"What?" he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.
"I think Y/n likes your new hair, Reid." Emily said, causing the others that weren't asleep to look up from what they were doing to joing in on the conversation.
"Ooh, I think pretty girl has a hair fettish," Derek chuckled, poking me in the ribs as I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Wh-! I do not!" I exclaimed, feeling a blush color my face.
"No, I think you do." JJ smirked, laughing with Emily.
Thank God, Rossi's asleep.
"She definitely does," Spencer piped up, his face and tone completely innocent.. As though he was about to state one of his fun facts. Which I guess in a way this was a fun fact.. Fun for everyone else except me.
I looked at him incredulously, hitting his chest lightly.
"How do you figure?" I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest, daring him to say another word.
"Well when I got home this morning from the parlour and you saw me, you did this thing you do when you are about to orgasm," he explained, beginning to talk with his hands.
"Oh, what does she do, boy genius?" Emily asked, leaning over to get in on the fun. I could not believe what I was hearing.
"Her breathing gets heavy and she has to hold onto something.. Usually that 'something' is my hair, but when she first saw me she gripped the back of the couch. Then she was kissing me alot and running her fingers through my hair. She whimpered a little bit too, which is something she also does when she is about to-"
"O-kay! Can we stop talking about me and orgasms?" I asked, hiding behind my hands in embarrassment.
"You asked me how I knew you had a fettish and I explained." Spencer said in a sing-song tune, the team member's laughing which eventually woke Rossi up.
"Wh-what are we laughing at?" he asked in a dazed state, his eyes barely open.
"I don't think you want to know," Hotch said, arching an eyebrow as he looked back down at his case files.
"No, I want to know." he shrugged, nodding his head. 
My eyes grew wide at Derek's response:
"Apparently, when Prettygirl is about to have an orgasm she whimpers. Oh, and she also has a hair fettish...Specifically with Spencer's hair."
"Dio mio! I did not want to know that!" Rossi cried, making me slap myself in the face as I groaned in embarrassment.
"Oh my God!" I exclaimed, cringing as I realized that Derek had practically told my grandfather about my sex life. "I'm going to get more coffee."
"Ooh, can you get me some?" Spencer asked.
"No." I said simply over my shoulder, throwing Spencer a pointed look.
I poured myself another cup of much needed coffee before Spencer walked up beside me.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I was just explaining facts to the team." he said softly, and I began to feel bad for making him think I was angry at him.
"Spence, it's okay, really," I laughed, and I saw a wave of relief wash over his features. I kissed him gently, tugging on his hair as he whimpered. "I guess I could always just tell the team that you whine and beg when I pull your hair." I whispered, untangling my fingers from his hair as I kissed him softly on the lips, Spencer's face a bright red.
"I must really like your new 'do, Spence."
And with that, I walked away, smirking at Spencer immediately throwing the washroom open, locking the door behind him.
He didn't open it until fifteen minutes later.
273 notes · View notes