shifting things about spencer reid

btw everyone’s reality is entirely different, so everyone’s cm interactions will be different! these are just little stories that i heard more that i hear more often than other stories :) also these are from tiktok!!
if you don’t know what shifting is, shifting is a way for people to shift to different realities!
lastly, these are all real stories from real people. shifting is real.

spencer loves it when you listen to him ramble even if you’re the least interested. he likes to be listened to because he feels loved and appreciated
contrary to popular belief, spencer loves touch. it’s his main love language & he loves cuddles
he loves museum & picnic dates
MANY people say he smells like coffee and lavender
(i heard this twice) he doesn’t like dinosaur chicken nuggets because they’re not “accurate”
spencer would hold you if a case hit too close to home
^ and he LOVES to be held
he loves holding hands & playing with them
i know we know this, but he’s insanely good with kids. he even reads to kids (there was one where they read to kids at the hospital and one at the library 🥺)
he’s self-conscious
he uses vanilla chapstick
he likes the color green a lot
he’s obsessed with harry potter
he likes going on roofs
he loves reassurance/affirmations (like saying everything’s okay, he’s perfectly fine the way he is, etc.)
he knows how to braid
movie days 24/7
he likes dancing (either w/o music, in the kitchen, in the rain, whatever)
he 100% would read you to sleep
he gives massages
he makes it obvious when he’s falling for someone
he deeply cares about people
(heard this twice) he buried a spider because he felt bad for it
yes, he’d brush your hair
he’s shy asf
when he feels guilty over the smallest things he’d either cry about it or apologize for 84373637 hours
loves sunsets
he would have ice cream with you
he’s the softest dad ever, like EVER
he fidgets a lot
& loves to go on walks either to clear his mind or after a long/rough case

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

331 notes

jemilyschild

Text

one last dance

spencer reid x fem! reader

summary;

instead of maeve, its you who has last dance with spencer before he moves on from your death for good

warnings !

angst, mentions of death (graphic), blood, guns

The soft movements of Spencer’s body shuffled around the crinkled bedsheets, his legs shifted; tucking under his calfs into a form of a ball, his arms neatly wrapped around a pillow — your pillow, his arms collapsed tightly over the thin-white material; the softness of the pillow had deflated due to his grip and smushing it against his face. He dug his nose deeply into the pillow; searching for the smell he was almost forgetting, the scent of you on the only thing he had left to remember you by, a pillow. He clung onto it for dear life, almost suffocating himself to inhale the scent that once lingered everywhere in the place you once called home together.

He used to sleep peacefully at night, with you on the left side of the bed, his arms hugged around your waist while your feet intertwined to keep each other warm. Spencer would create circular motions on your spine with his fingers, persuading you into sleep, (he knew you needed sleep any chance you could get) And he’d watch, his eyes concentrating on your closed ones as you fell deeper into unconsciousness, even with an eidetic memory; he could never fully remember what it looked like when you sleep, perhaps by the numerous positions you would be in when you fell asleep each night, there was too many to re call for his brain. Although now, he wished he could remember; because instead, Spencer was wrapped around a pillow, dried splotches of wetness imprinted into the material — his tears, drenched, each having a different meaning.

Some were caused with distraught; especially the first night with you gone. The second he stepped into the apartment he fell apart; with the walls he had built around himself through the mission and all the way to the hospital were tarnishing down, crumbling to the ground into nothing but rubble, they were laid by his feet and he watched as everything was tumbling down. Tears sparked the corners of his eyes; already spilling over the borders and slipping down his cheeks, the sudden movements of his emotions were overwhelming — his skin flared up, slowly becoming puffy, wet and stinging with a raw texture; distraught erupted in his throat, not even trying to quiet down the havoc his emotions were causing through the thin walls of the apartment, his world crashed, tore into pieces that wouldn’t be able to be put back together — you were gone, there was no going back, there wasn’t a time machine, there was nothing. Spencer remembered the way his knees hit the ground, his breathing stuttered, it was like his lungs were on fire as they pounded against his chest, igniting with an unforgettable pain, his shoulders hunched forwards when his hands touched the ground with his knees; he dug his fingers into the loose carpet; tugging, pulling and yanking on the stubby material until he could feel the glue start to deteriorate from underneath.

The physical pain was nothing, it was numbing the more he thought of it. It was the emotional pain that he endured, the mental image that imprinted itself into his brain; the gut wrenching image of you in his arms. He remembers the outfit you were wearing, a black-long sleeved shirt that had a turtle neck-like collar and a pair of blue jeans with torn edges on the sides from how much physical activity you used in them, and of course, you had a FBI bullet-proof vest on. Now looking back, the image of you was nothing but a nightmare, the neatly put outfit was now gone, being smothered in splatters of blood, your own blood, the black material along your neck had been replaced with the crimson ooze flowing from your neck, imprinting onto the material, making it an even darker shader than before if possible. — Spencer had to bite back a shuddering sob, picturing himself looking up into the eyes of the deceased. It was something that would haunt him, forever, not ever escaping the brain, the mind, or his eyes every time he would blink. The cold dead eyes were staring directly into Spencer’s glossed ones, he knew your eyes weren’t actually looking at him, but it felt like it, he felt your gaze fixated onto his, pouring the rest of the pain and fear you had as you died.

But as the days continued on from then, Spencer learned how to cope with it. With you being gone, the team had helped Spencer in the apartment; packing away your stuff in boxes, folding each particle of clothing you had neatly, they held back their own emotions for the sake of Spencer’s fragile mental health — not wanting to upset him more, but he kept stable, packing along with the team, and at the end of the night, they individually hugged Spencer tightly; giving him a sympathetic stare and a murmured “Sorry” or “It’ll get better.” It wouldn’t, but he had some hope in the words.

The nights started getting better three months after you had died, Spencer was finally able to close his eyes at night without seeing the vivid picture of you laid in his arms and on your last breath. He was able to push it into the back of his head for a couple decent hours of sleep until the nightmares would settle in and he’d be up at the crack of dawn. Before, you would be up by his side, arms wrapped around his torso as you nudged your face closer into the corner of his neck, peppering small kisses on his warm skin; it was your comfort, to help him forget the nightmares he would frequently have after certain cases that hit too close to home.

Now you were the nightmare.

Spencer shifted in the bed once more, feeling awake and frustrated. His brows churned with irritation, the dimples on his face turning into a frown, whilst a hand snaked through his hair lazily. He looked over at the time, the green lighting flashed ‘four o’five’ brightly, the colors reflected onto Spencer’s glossed eyes from exhaustion, he breathed heavily at the time and leaned his head back into the pillow knowing he wasn’t going back to bed anytime soon.

With his eyelids drooping and his breathing becoming faint, Spencer heard the light echoes of footsteps approaching; the steps collided with a small creak from the wooden flooring, Spencer swore he was having another nightmare — though, that was until the door to his bedroom had cracked open, with the faintest moonlight fixated on the person before him, his lips parted slowly before squinting — first glance, he was sure it wasn’t you, second glance, you were a couple steps from his sleepy state.

The sight laid before him was unimaginable, the corner of your lips twitched up into a smile — narrowing your eyes down onto Spencer.

“Well are you just gonna lay there or are you gonna say hello?” Teasing, his former lover sat down neatly onto his bed whilst he looked up at you.

“Wh— That doesn’t make any se—sense, Y/N?” With his words tumbling off his tongue with shock, the way he said your name felt foreign; like he hadn’t said it in months. You reached out with your hand and steadily placed it along Spencer’s cheek, your thumb caressing his cheekbones as you rubbed gently onto his skin.

“Well I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye right? After all, it took me a while to come to you, all you did was block the memory of me from your brain so I couldn’t get to you sooner to do this.” You tried your best to make your words comforting, after all — Spencer was still in audible shock from you being in front of him, touching him for the first time in six months of him craving for the warmth of your skin on his.

“How?” He found himself asking — you only shrugged before standing up from the bed, “Dance with me.” Running a hand down Spencer’s chest, until you reached down onto his palm; you linked your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb delicately over the back of his hand — he felt a spark of electricity maneuver his veins, then you tugged him upwards, sending him forward into your arms — out of instinct, he latched his free hand onto your waist, gripping it with small pressure.

“I don’t understand—“ Falling silent whilst you pressed your finger against his lips, shushing him, he glanced down onto you; the words he wanted to say disappearing from his tongue.

“You can’t keep asking someone the same question when they don’t know the answer, I wanna dance.” With you changing the subject swiftly, Spencer had kept quiet; allowing your words to settle into his brain.

“What song should we play?” He manages to splutter out, glancing down your body to where his hands were laid carelessly on your hips; tightening his grip ever so slightly to see if this was real.

“We don’t need a song, your breathing is already music to me.” Whispering, your hands went from his arms to the broad of his shoulders, you massaged them gently before placing your palms flat down onto his shoulders.

With his grip trembling around your hips, his bottom lip pouted and quivered. You watched his eyes gloss up, him looking down as Spencer mustered a sigh, slowly beginning to move along to the stagnant silence in the room.

The tears that desperately wanted to spill down his cheeks kept surface behind the brim of his eyes, his blood flooded his pale skin, they painted crimson and blended into the harsh light hues of the curtains reflected against the sky of misty gray and blue — the moon starting to lower into the smeared clouds whisked like a paint brush.

“Why’d you do it?” Speaking quietly, he tried to keep his voice from cracking and shaking, whilst having all reasons to do so — Spencer didn’t want to look like a coward in front of you.

You bit your lip momentarily, the skin latching between your teeth as you bit down ever so softly. “I did it to protect you.”

“To protect me? How was — How was sacrificing yourself protecting me?” The two of you still swayed across the wooden flooring of Spencer’s room, although, with his grip only tightening onto your delicate skin; it would almost seem like it was bruising the longer his hand was kept there, though, you were still a hallucination, an imagination from Spencer’s mind. A comfort for his timing, so you didn’t actually feel any given pain.

“Spencer if there’s one thing I will never regret in my life time of knowing you, is saving your life. Your life is so much more valuable than mine ever was, the team needed you more than they did me. Not ever would I go back in time to change that, so yes, it was to protect you and I will never be sorry for it.” Spencer’s grip loosened on your hips, a cold sting kissed your skin from the lack of warmth from where his hand was placed before — yet all was forgotten by the time his hands laced between yours, a gasp lodged in your throat as you felt a cooling grasp cradled behind your head as Spencer’s other arm scooped behind your lower back and dipped you slightly, the locks of your hair almost touching the floor as you swung your head back further, revealing only your neck to Spencer’s view.

“Can’t you stay forever? Can’t I —“ With his tone growing fragmented, the overwhelming emotions raised higher and you were back on your two feet, his brows churned whilst his eyes were shut tightly. Your dimples frowned with your forehead creasing, you noticed the tears slowly spilling from his eyes, little drops slid down his rosy cheeks as your index finger swiped them away. “You know I can’t stay forever, it’s just how it was meant to be.”

“This is how our story was supposed to go.”

Spencer’s drops of tears had dried partially on his face, they creased and melted into the olive tone of him, he could feel his cheeks tighten. “What if our story doesn’t have to go like this?”

You looked up, the fingertips of your hand tracing up his jawline; a small stubble of hair scratched against your finger, a soft chuckle came from your lips as you remembered how much he hated facial hair, something about how it made him look messy and non professional, you thought otherwise but supported his choices nonetheless. “You have to let me go, Spence.”

You parted your lips once more to continue, only to be cut short when you felt his arms wrap around yours, Spencer’s body initially tensed up at the unfamiliar feeling his body experienced, it was like a newborn emotion that he hasn’t felt in months. Comfort, warmth, happiness. Euphoria. The gathering of emotions flowed threw his body at a rapid pace, his heart even raced at the feeling of your chest against his.

Threading your hand behind his head, you curled your fingers through his messy curls, tangling your fingertips through the dark shades of bronze. You couldn’t feel what Spencer was feeling during this moment, all you could feel was his body pressure against yours, nothing but cold and pressure was greeted to you.

“I love you.” With his words muffled between your shoulder blades, Spencer’s body shook and collapsed more against your small frame, surprisingly holding up his weight gracefully.

You never said it back, instead you pulled him tighter. With your eyes fluttering shut and digging your face into the crook of his neck, the tension of his muscles lessened and melted into your arms more freely whilst his breathing became more calming, stable.

“Promise me something.” You whispered into his skin. He nodded gently, words no longer being spoken.

“Promise you’ll love someone other than me.”

The words you hoped to hear never came, instead, his arms flexed whilst his fingers curled in the material of your shirt, and the two of you stood there in the middle of his room until the sun started to make an appearance behind the series of clouds in the skyline, a hue of oranges, reds, and yellows glossed in Spencer’s vision as the imagination of you slowly faded into the night, leaving Spencer hugging nothing but thin air.

“I promise.”