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fxcking-anon · 4 years

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Fallingforyou

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

TW: Alcohol

Word Count: 3,749

A/N: I’m not sure what it is about this song but I’ve had it on repeat for the past few months. There’s something about it. Part of it definitely stems from the fact that no one has kissed me as the 1975 plays in the background. I wasn’t sure when I wanted this to happen but I just watched the episode where JJ and Will get married and it finally clicked. This is the perfect moment for that with Spence. Soft and romantic, that feeling you get after leaving a wedding and knowing that love is real because you’ve just been surrounded by so much of it.

lol so through the course of writing this, it just got longer and longer oops.

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You tilted your head back laughing as Derek and Spencer spun you back and forth between the two of them as “I’ve Had the Time of My Life” played in the background. Penelope was singing drunkenly along, holding on to Rossi as she forced him to sway back and forth with her.

“Hey babygirl,” Derek called out to Penelope, twirling you back into Spencer’s arms, “You wanna do the lift?” He started to back up, gesturing at her to run at him.

“Oh no, I’m not that drunk. These heels are not meant for running. Or sticking a landing. No way,” she said, opting instead to take Rossi’s hand and let him spin her into a slightly offbeat, step together move.

You leaned your head on Spencer’s chest as you rocked slowly to the beat. All around you, your closest friends smiled and laughed and danced together. Despite the hell of the day before, everyone managed to pull through for JJ and Will. The happy couple were whispering to each other in the middle of the dance floor, caught up in their own little world. JJ’s fingers curled tightly around Will’s. It didn’t seem like either of them would be letting go for a long time. The events of yesterday seemed to remind them of that.

“What’s going on up there?” Spencer asked you, lightly tapping your temple to get your attention.

“Hmm?” You looked up at him, jostled slightly from your musings by the tap to your head.

“You okay?” He reiterated, searching your face for micro-expressions.

You smiled up at him. “I’m really happy Spencer,” you told him, “It’s hard not to be. I’m with my family, aren’t I?” You giggled, unable to contain the unbridled happiness that was coursing through you.

You looked around you. Over to one side, Beth was dancing with Jack as Hotch looked on fondly. Next to them, Henry had wriggled his way between Will and JJ. Will picked him up and the family started swaying and spinning together, laughing at Henry’s fist pumps to the slow music. On the other side, Penelope and Derek were (lousily) attempting a grapevine as Rossi and Emily seemed to pull out all the stops as they waltzed gracefully. Show offs.

“You know, you guys are my best friends,” you said, looking back up at Spencer. “Truly, best in the whole world.”

As much as he tried to hide it, you clocked the millisecond of discomfort in his expression before he smiled at you again. You pushed it to the back of your mind. You weren’t going to let yourself go full profiler and ruin tonight for yourself. Tonight you were going to enjoy this moment with the people you held closest to your heart. Tomorrow you could analyze why Spencer didn’t like you referring to him so fondly.

----------

You couldn’t guess the time if you tried as everyone started stumbling out of Rossi’s mansion. You could however, tell that you, along with most of the team, had a little bit too much to drink.

“I’m calling cabs for all of you, you can come collect your keys tomorrow,” Rossi said, jangling Derek, Penelope, Emily and your keys in his hand.

“I’ll take them,” Spencer fake sighed, rolling his eyes before revealing a grin. “Okay, everyone in,” he said, unlocking his Volvo and waiting for everyone to situate themselves. You found yourself squished in between Emily and Derek as Penelope eagerly hopped in the passenger seat. “You aren’t buckled Y/N,” Spencer scolded, staring you down in the rear view window, waiting for you to secure yourself in the seat.

You looked behind you, trying to find the seat belt. Coming up empty, you shot Spencer a quizzical look in the mirror. He unfastened his own belt to turn around towards you, reaching back to pull out the belt before securing it gently across you.

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol, but Spencer’s hand seemed to linger at the point where the seat belt touched your hip. And for whatever reason, probably the alcohol, you wanted more contact. Sadly, Spencer turned back around abruptly to wrestle the volume dial away Penelope.

“But this is my jam!” Penelope whined as Spencer lowered the volume back to where you could hear your own thoughts again.

“I can’t drive if I can’t hear. Distracted driving is incredibly dangerous-”

“Just drive Pretty Boy, I’ve got a hot lady waiting for me at home,” Derek interrupted Spencer’s tangent and coincidentally caught the attention of the three women in the car.

“Who? What woman? Who?” Penelope instantly asks, poking Derek in the leg as best she could from her position in the passenger seat. You and Emily both stared at him quizzically. You brought out your ‘tell me more’ elbow as Emily wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Her name is My Bed and her friend, My Pillow, is also anxiously awaiting my return so please, step on it,” Derek said, leaving the girls in various states of shock and giggles.

Spencer shifted the car into drive and slowly pulled out, stepping on it as much as one can while staying within the 25 mile per hour residential limit of the law.

----------

You waved goodbye to Penelope as she stepped into the doorway of her apartment complex before settling yourself in the front seat. As you buckled and reclined your seat a few degrees, you felt Spencer’s eyes on you. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, “I just get a little bit sick in the back of cars. It’s a little worse from the drinks.” You noticed Spencer immediately tense. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to be sick. I’m a big girl, I can hold my liquor.”

You watched as his shoulders relaxed as he turned back towards the road. For as uptight as Spencer seemed about following the rules of the road, he looked surprisingly relaxed as he drove through the city streets. You attributed part of it to the lack of traffic at this early hour of the morning. Even so, seeing Spencer doing something as simple as driving one handed as the other rested on the gear shift sent a slight shiver down your spine. It was wildly attractive.

As he slowed down for a stop light, he looked over at you again. “What’s going on up there?” he asked, repeating his words from earlier that night. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or if his gaze was really as intense as it felt, boring holes into you.

“It’s just...” you start, trailing off for a moment, trying to find the right words. “We don’t get a lot of happy time. As tired as I am and as much as these shoes are killing me, I’d do anything to be able to live in tonight forever. With all of you. You guys are my closest friends in the world and I watch as we all struggle to find the light after day in and day out of tragedy. When we get moments like this, it’s hard when they’re over.” You hadn’t meant to get so deep so quickly. You hadn’t meant to bare your soul like that in front of Spencer. Not that you didn’t trust him implicitly, you just knew that intense emotional expression could sometimes overwhelm him. Leave him unsure of how to proceed.

“Yeah, I know,” he agreed simply, turning back to the road as the light turned green. “It’s nice to forget for a while.”

The drive continued in comfortable silence. Your eyes closed, the streetlamps agitating your oncoming migraine as soft classical music played through the sound system.

“What song is this? I’m assuming Beethoven, right?” you asked.

“You would be correct,” you could hear Spencer’s smile in his response and almost opened your eyes to see it. “It’s Piano Concerto Number 5 in E flat major.” The music swelled as he spoke before a decrescendo to a soft, simplistic melody again. It took everything in your power to subdue your Drunk Brain. Between the music, his one hand grip of the steering wheel, the neon lights of downtown and the alcohol in your system you wanted to just lean over and-

No. This was Spencer. Spencer deserved better than subpar drunk roadhead.

You opened your eyes wide at that realization, sitting up straight before being choked out by the seat belt's emergency locking mechanism. Spencer’s attention snapped to you as you coughed violently, attempting to unlock the mechanism so you could lean forward onto your knees.

“Woah, woah, Y/N what happened?” The concern was clear in Spencer’s voice. “We’re at your apartment, are you okay to go up?”

“I’m-” you choked out another cough, finally feeling clear enough to take a normal breath in. “I’m okay. I just…” you trailed off, trying to think of anything to say besides ‘I got freaked out by how much I wanted to suck you off because I know we aren’t like that’.

Spencer placed the car in park and turned off the engine before stepping out of the vehicle. He rounded the front of the car before opening your door and squatting besides you. “Let me get that,” he said, releasing you from your seat belt. Your chest was still heaving which certainly didn’t help how flustered you could feel yourself getting from how close Spencer was to you. The concern in his eyes only made you more attracted in that moment and it took everything you had to remind yourself that you are part of a team of profilers. There was no getting out of this hole you dug yourself into tonight.

“Thank you,” you managed to whisper as you took his hand and stepped out of the car. You hadn’t realized how much Spencer had allowed skin to skin contact tonight. You knew that it was hard for him to avoid hyperfixation on how many germs were passed every time someone initiated skin to skin contact. Yet he danced with you, touched your face, and was now taking your hand. You wanted to read deeper, to profile this simple change, but your addled brain would not cooperate with you at the moment.

As you stood up, the world spun. Sitting, you felt buzzed. Standing, however, it took you a moment to realize that Spencer had wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you back to an upright position. Staring hard, his face came into clearer focus.

“You’re drunk,” he stated simply. You couldn’t help but giggle. He wasn’t wrong. You caught him smiling back at you before turning his face away and replacing it with a more impassive stare.

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Lucky for the two of you, your apartment complex had recently fixed the elevator that had been broken for the past six months. Otherwise, maneuvering you back to your apartment would have been far more difficult. As you approached your door, you felt a tug on your handbag. Spencer gently removed it from your grip and fished out your keys, unlocking the apartment door before guiding you inside.

Spencer had never been inside your space before. There was no reason for him to. Hotch had stopped by once before to drop off case files when you were sick but other than that, no one from the team had been here. And Hotch didn’t even come inside.

You studied his face, doing your best to pick up his micro-expressions as he looked around your small living space. There wasn’t much. A worn, cushy couch, two oversized arm chairs, a stack of books on an end table and a large collection of half dead plants. Spencer guided you to one of the arm chairs before taking a closer look at one of your ivy plants.

“You do know that overwatering kills just as much as underwatering, right?” Spencer said, clearly messing with you.

You turned to look at him as he took one of the ivy leaves between his fingers.

“Eugene is just temperamental,” you countered, frowning at the plant.

“You named them?”

“Of course,” you huffed, pulling yourself up to grab a glass of water, “I can’t just refer to it as Hedera Helix all the time. I have another, they need a distinction. So I name them.” You made your way slowly to the kitchen, hearing Spencer follow you just closely enough that he could stabilize you if you teetered again. You pulled your favorite mug out of the cupboard before filling it with water.

“It’s late,” Spencer said, nodding his head to the time displayed on your stove. 3:37.

You immediately felt a wave of regret crash into you. You hadn’t intended on being so needy tonight. It was late. And here Spencer was, watching over your drunk, bumbling self instead of going home and getting some sleep.

“I probably wouldn’t be asleep anyways, really, don’t worry about it,” Spencer said, taking quick note of your change in demeanor.

“You can go,” you said, turning your attention back to your mug. “Really, thank you for everything tonight but it is late.”

“Y/N…” Spencer started, crouching a bit to get back in your line of vision, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. If you want me to leave, I will. But don’t think that I’m here against my will. Okay?”

You nodded softly. You wanted him to stay. You wanted him to be here in the morning when you woke up. You wanted so very much more from him in that moment. “Would you…” you faltered, second guessing your decision.

“Would I what, Y/N?” Spencer asked softly.

“Would you stay? I have a guest room and the sheets are clean and I understand if it’s weird because you’ve never been here before and now I’m trying to drag you into an unwanted weird sleepover and I’m drunk and you’re not and it’s late and you should really-”

You froze as Spencer let out a little laugh.

“I don’t mind staying. Sometimes it’s nice not to have to go home to an empty apartment after nights like this,” he said. Your eyes widened for a moment and you could tell he realized the unintentional subtext of his comment. “No! Not like that! I just meant that- I mean- Tonight was nice! And happy! And sometimes, being alone…” he trailed off.

You knew what he meant. Sometimes, being alone just brings all the terror back. And sometimes, after a night with the people who mean the most to you, who remind you that there’s good in this world, you just aren’t ready for that to end.

“I have some men’s sweats if you want to change,” you offered. Spencer raised his eyebrows at you. “I bought them. I like sleeping in oversized sweats, I don’t have enough time to be collecting them from random guys. Get your head out of the gutter Dr. Reid,” you scolded him, laughing.

You made your way to your bedroom, only stumbling slightly, and retrieved a pair of grey sweats along with an old, 2xl 5k t-shirt you got when you used to run. You handed them to Spencer before showing him to the guest bedroom. “Goodnight Spence,” you said.

“Goodnight Y/N, sleep well,” he replied, waiting for you to shut the door before he started changing.

You closed the door before returning to your own bedroom. You closed the door and leaned against it, doing everything in your power not to walk back into the guest room and kiss him. Or ask him to do unspeakable things to you. You knew he wouldn’t, mostly because he’d ramble off that intoxicated consent is not consent and probably something about respecting you and your professional relationship too much blah blah blah. Sighing, you went to unzip your dress to change into pajamas.

No matter how much you twisted your body, the zipper was just out of reach, laying directly in the space between your flailing hands. Shit.

Moments later, you found yourself outside of the guest bedroom, knocking gently on the door.

“Spence?”

The door swung open and it took everything you had not to gasp. The grey sweatpants hung low on his hips and the t-shirt clung ever so slightly to his frame. You heard Spencer clear his throat and your eyes shot up to meet his. He caught you staring.

“Can you help me?” you asked, trying to distract from your staring. You turned around and lifted your hair, hoping he’d get the message and help with the zipper. Luckily, he did. Chills ran up your spine as he slowly pulled it down, just enough so you could reach it yourself. He was always so respectful, especially when you were as drunk as you currently were.

“Thanks,” you whispered, moving towards your bedroom door.

“Sweet dreams,”

Your heart fluttered again as you made it back to your room without embarrassing yourself any further. Now freed from the cursed dress, you took no time in removing your makeup and throwing on an old shirt. Almost as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were drifting off to sleep.

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A small crash in the kitchen woke you up. You sat straight up in bed, reaching for the gun in your bedside table drawer. Slowly, you peaked your head out of your room, keeping your gun extended as you swept the hallway. Your head was pounding and fuzzy, definitely from the alcohol. Penelope and you should never be allowed to drink together again. She always talks you into doing too many shots. Quietly, you maneuvered yourself into the living space of the apartment, squinting against the bright light streaming in your curtains. And then you smelled...coffee? You lowered your gun as you crept towards the kitchen.

“Oh shoot. Shoot shoot shoot son of a-” a hushed voice came from the kitchen, freezing as you rounded the corner. Spencer sat on the floor, picking up the remains of an old coffee mug.

“Spencer?” you said, trying to piece together the flashes of memory you had from the night before.

“I’m so sorry!” he blurted out. “I was trying to be quiet and then I knocked over the mug. I just know coffee usually helps with hangovers and you had a lot to drink last night and-you have a gun?”

“You’re in my apartment?” you asked, attempting to process what he was saying along with the scene in front of you. Spencer stood up, stretching slightly and revealing a small strip of skin in between one of your old t-shirts and a pair of your oversized sweats. That certainly didn’t help you focus on deciphering what was going on.

“You asked me to stay last night. I hope it’s okay that I did?” Spencer’s eyes were trained on your face, attempting to analyze your reaction. You sighed, a few pieces of last night fitting together. You secured the safety on your glock before sitting it on the counter.

“Of course it’s okay Spence. I’m just trying to put everything together, that’s all,” you assured him, moving to grab the dustpan out of a cabinet and sweep up the mug remains.

“I’m sorry about the mug,” he repeated. You laughed. It was one of the generic FBI mugs they gave out when they forced you to go to seminars.

“Spence, it’s fine. Trust me, it wasn’t even in my top ten favorite mugs,” you said, reaching into the cupboard for another. “Here, try not to drop this one.” You handed him a different mug.

You watched as he read the text under his breath. “How does Pavlov keep his hair so shiny? He conditions it…” Spencer looked at you with a very dry expression as he tried not to laugh. “Pavlov puns? Really?”

“You’re not the only one who can make bad jokes. Now, the creamer should be on the door, spoons are in that drawer,” you said, pointing to the drawer a little to his left, “and I keep sugar cubes in that cabinet, look to the right.” You poured yourself a cup of black coffee before leaning against the counter and taking a sip. Spencer made his coffee too and you both stood in comfortable silence, drinking your coffee.

“Thank you,” you finally said, avoiding Spencer’s eyes as you swirled your coffee around the mug. “You didn’t have to do any of that last night, you’re a really good friend. I’m so lucky to have you.” You met his eyes, noting...something off? You couldn’t place it. You raised a brow at him.

He sighed and looked away, trying to brush off the subject. You weren’t having it.

“Talk to me,” you coaxed, placing your hand over his. You expected him to move. You realized after you did it that you were pushing a physical boundary with him. Guilt began to flood you until you realized, he didn’t move. You didn’t withdraw his hand or flinch. Instead, he stretched his fingers ever so slightly under your touch so they brushed against your palm. “Spence?”

“I- Y/N, I value you so much,” he started.

“Spence, I know you do-”

“And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to make you feel like you owe me or anything for being nice to you last night-”

“Spence…?”

“I don’t want to just be your friend,” he sputtered out.

Oh. Oh. You looked at him, wide eyed, trying to figure out if he really meant what you thought he meant.

“I’m sorry, forget it,” he immediately recanted, placing his mug down on the counter. “I should go,”

You caught his arm as he tried to move past you. Your hand ran gently up his chest, causing little goosebumps to pop up on his arms. His fingers barely brushed your thighs as they ghosted up them. His head leaned into the crook of your neck. “I don’t want to be your friend, Y/N,” he breathed against the sensitive skin of your neck. “I want to be able to do this instead.” He pressed his lips gently to your neck, kissing it once.

It felt like all the air left your lungs the moment his lips touched you. You could feel him chuckle against your neck at your reaction. He kissed your neck again, more intensely this time. You melted into his arms as he peppered your neck with kisses.

“Spencer,” you breathed out, causing him to lift his head from your neck.

“Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds #reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #fallingforyou #the1975

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cherrybracelets · 4 years

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Star Shopping

spencer reid x reader

word count: 1.6k | warnings: alcohol consumption. other than that, no smut, all fluff

song inspo: star shopping by lil peep (i highly recommend listening to this song before or during reading this fic)

Look at the sky tonight, all of the stars have a reason A reason to shine, a reason like mine and I'm fallin' to pieces

masterlist | requests

Seven hours in the car with Dr. Spencer Reid would be most people's worst nightmare. He spewed nonstop facts about every town you drove by, had an undeniable caffeine addiction that made you stop every ten minutes so he could pee and buy another coffee, and had terrible taste in road trip music. Mozart was not who you would’ve picked to pass the time as you drove up I-95.

You were accompanying Spencer to Harvard this weekend, to attend a class as guest lecturers from the BAU. They called Dr. Reid personally, and told him to bring one other profiler of his choice. You weren’t exactly sure why he picked you, you weren’t nearly as close as he was with the others. But he swayed you with compliments about how wonderful of a speaker you were, and how the students would be engrossed with my lecturing skills. You couldn’t say no to him, but you were highly regretting it now as he went on about all the fun facts of White Plains, NY.

“I can’t handle this music anymore, Spence. I feel like I’m at a funeral,” you groaned, staring out the window at the moon, that was now shining high in the sky.

“Fun fact, the most popular road trip song in the US is On the Road Again by Willie Nelson,” Spencer laughed, excitement pouring out of him as he shared his knowledge.

“Wonderful, maybe we can listen to that then?”

“Hmm… no, I don’t like that.”

You rolled your eyes, and curled into a ball on the passenger seat. You continued to stare out the window, watching the world fly by around you. It was a quiet night, few other cars on the road. It was nearing 11PM, and you were still about two hours away from Boston. Spencer was humming along to the music, staring ahead at the empty road. You watched the way the darkness enveloped him, his features prominent in the low light.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“What?” You asked, confused. You had completely zoned out, lost in your own head.

“You were staring right at me!” Spencer laughed, looking over at you and making sure you were okay. He had always thought you were beautiful, especially when you weren’t trying to be. He found himself getting lost in your features, the softness of your lips, the golden aura of radiance surrounding you.

You weren’t paying much attention to the road, staring at your phone in boredom. A sudden jolt of the car and the loud and undeniable sound of a tire popping. Spencer looked shocked and apologetic, his face scrunched in guilt as he put the car in park on the side of the highway. He turned towards you slowly, as you were trying to gather your words without yelling.

“Oops,” he whispered, closing his eyes to prepare for your wrath.

You took a deep breath, calming yourself before speaking. You were known to have a bit of a temper, and you were desperately trying to overcome that personality trait. You looked down at the floor, silently praying to whatever god would listen.

“Is there a spare tire?” You crossed your fingers, a dumb superstition that you did instinctively. You could tell by the long silence before his response that the answer was no.

“Listen, I have Triple A. I’ll call them right now!” He promised, assuring you that everything would be fine.

“We have to be at the college tomorrow morning! We need to get to Boston tonight!” You groaned, putting your face in your hands as you started to feel yourself panic. It was pitch black out, the car was almost out of gas anyways, and it was freezing out. Your stomach turned as you dug your nails into your palms, trying to ground yourself.

“Okay, I’ll call Hotch and see if he can pull a few strings.” Spencer said quietly, immediately noticing your shift in mood. He stepped out of the car to call Hotch, hoping that a few minutes of silence would calm you down.

He was right, of course. You felt better after only 60 seconds of quiet, your heart rate slowing down and your breathing returning back to it’s normal pace. You could hear Spencer mumbling faintly on the phone, unable to make out any of his words.

You looked around and realized the severity of the situation, stranded on an empty road in the middle of the night. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your hand reaching for your gun to make sure it was still in your place.

“Alright, I have some good news and bad news. What would you like first?” Spencer said awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as he got back in the car. You saw his gun on his hip, making you feel even safer knowing he could protect you, too.

“Good news, I guess.”

“Hotch is calling a tow truck who will bring us to Boston. They’ll fix the car in the morning and another car will pick us up to bring us to campus.”

“All of that sounds pretty good, what is the bad news?” You groaned, hoping it was something small enough to not cause another panic attack.

“The tow truck is coming from Boston so… we’re stuck here for about two hours…”

“Oh, god damn it Spence!” You threw your head back on the seat, sighing loudly as you stared up at the ceiling of the car.

“No worries though, we’ll make it fun. I have a few bottles of wine in the back. They were gifts for the professors but… fuck it.” Spencer got out of the car and walked to the trunk, opening it. He searched through the bags, rummaging around loudly and for what seemed like way too long. Finally he found what he was looking for, zipping up the bags and closing the trunk.

“Come out here! The stars look amazing!” He opened up your door and you walked out, leaning against the side of the car and staring at the sky.

“Isn’t it so clear out here?” He asked, opening up a bottle of cheap red wine and taking a swig. He handed you the bottle, and you grabbed it excitedly, downing multiple gulps in hopes that the alcohol would calm you down.

“It’s pretty beautiful,” you whispered, staring mesmerized into the night sky, each star it’s own shining life force in the otherwise black sky.

“Look at that, right there,” he whispered, getting close to you and pointing up at an exceptionally large and bright star in the sky. His face was almost touching yours, the warmth of his body drawing you in.

“What is it?”

“Venus. Isn’t that cool? A whole planet, right there for us to see.”

“Why does it glow like a star if it’s a planet? Like, stars are on fire, right? So that’s why they glow. Why do planets glow?”

“Ah, well actually, planets are reflecting the light of stars.” Spencer looked down at you, smiling as he shared his knowledge. There was nothing he loved more than somebody actually listening to his facts.

He continued to point out planets and stars, showing you constellations. The two of you even found a shooting star, the alcohol causing you to giggle as you both made funny wishes.

“I wish for… bigger boobs,” you giggled, grabbing your breasts and frowning. Spencer took another long swig in wine, shaking the bottle around as he realized it was almost empty.

“I wish for more wine… and bigger boobs,” he laughed, taking the final swig from the bottle and throwing it on the ground.

“Jeez, Spence, be careful,” you laughed, stepping away from the shattered glass. You got closer to Spencer, your body clumsily bumping into his as you backed away from the bottle.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, turning around and facing him directly. You were inches from each other, the smell of wine hanging strongly in the air.

“Hmm…” he mumbled, tilting his head slightly as he stared down at you.

“What?”

“I think you have really nice boobs.” He stared at your cleavage for a few more seconds, before looking back up to your face. He smiled goofily at you, his eyes glossy and cheeks red as the alcohol flushed through him.

“That is extremely inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” you giggled, his eyes still locked on your chest.

“Sorry…” he muttered, stumbling awkwardly away from you.

“No, no, it’s okay. I just didn’t realize you looked at me like that, I guess.”

“Are you kidding? I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

“You’re joking,” you laughed, shaking your head in amusement, convincing yourself there was no way someone like him could ever be interested in someone like you.

“I mean, I am a little drunk, but I still know how I feel.”

“How do you feel, Spencer?”

“Like I’d like to ask you on a date.”

“Is this not a date already? I mean, we split a bottle of wine, we’re staring at the stars… seems a little romantic.” You smiled up at Spencer, happiness flooding you as you looked at the way the moonlight reflected in his eyes.

“Okay, fine. I’d like to ask you on a second date.”

“Spencer Reid- I would love to go on a second date with you.”

“But, you know, I kind of have a first date routine, and we haven’t really stuck with it.”

“Well, what’s in the routine?”

“This…” he whispered, walking towards you and taking your face in his hands, kissing you passionately under the stars. The sweet taste of Pinot Noir clung to your lips, sloppy drunk kisses and giggles exchanging between you.

“Oh, I guess now is a good time to tell you the hotel we’re staying at only has one-bed rooms available,” Spencer giggled, getting out his words between kisses.

“Oh, damn. What are we gonna do about that?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #mgg #matthew gray gubler #dr spencer reid

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spencer-reid-in-a-pool · 3 years

Note

A - Z 🤍🤍

I’m assuming this means all the asks! So buckle up LOL. And thank you for taking an interest in lil ole me.

A: How did you come up with the title to [insert fic]?

Since you didn’t specify which title, I’m just going to talk about how I come up with titles in general. Normally, they happen one of two ways. Either I will come up with a title I think sounds cool out of the blue and then base a fic of its vibes, or I will write a fic to completion before deciding on a title. I like to use something that one of the characters say in this situation. It feels very full circle to me, if you will.

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

Unfortunately, my life is nowhere near as cool as the characters’ lives I write about. So no, I can’t say that my stories are based off personal experience. Unless you count me naming side characters my middle name every so often to indulge myself oops.

C: What member do you identify with most?

I guess by member it means character? And to be honest, I’m not really sure. I relate a lot to Spencer Reid I suppose, because I have never been popular and have always been a target for whatever shit life throws at me. I also like to think I’m kinda intelligent? Although if you look at my grade in my stats class right now, idk what to tell you-

D: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with [insert fic]?

Since there was no specific fic asked about, I can’t really answer this one! But to be honest, I don’t think there are any fics that I have written that I associated with songs.

E: If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it be about?

The first one that came to mind is Guest Speaker. If I wrote a part three for that, it would probably be fluffy domestic cute stuff with Spencer.

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

“I don’t even know what it was…it happened so fast. Did you kill it, Geralt?” Jaskier asked in a huff. Geralt crossed his arms, and shook his head. “I figured I should make sure you didn’t die first, bard.” Jaskier nodded, a simple “Ah,” leaving his lips. “Well, no matter. You can fix me right?”

He sounded like he was poking fun at the situation, but I could hear the fear in his words. I decided to try and make him smile before I did this next part. It would be painful.

“Anything for Geralt of Rivia and his emotional support bard.”

(This was just really funny to me for some reason, and I feel like I did a good job with their characterizations! And then Y/N comes back with the emotional support bard comment and it’s something I would say in real life. From this fic.)

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

It depends on my mood! Sometimes if I’m frustrated with a story or a scene, I’ll write them out of order based on what type of thing I feel like writing. But I would say 75% of the time I write my fics in order.

H: How would you describe your style?

To be honest, I have no idea. Do I even have a style? I just write stuff and hope that people read it and like it.

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

Happy endings pfft. So cliche, but like- they make me happy. Unless I am feeling particularly angsty that day and want to make an ending a complete train wreck >:)

J: Write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic].

In this fic...I would let reader live LMAO. But like- I was feeling angsty that day okay-

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Reader dying at the end of the fic LMAO, in the fic linked in the previous one above this one.

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Uhh 😬 Maybe once? If that 😅 I’m usually so excited to post that I just kinda go ahead and click post and hope for the best. I rely on spell check and grammar check a lot 💀And I just hope my story flows well.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I don’t think so! I keep my to do list public so everyone can see what fics I have planned. The only two I don’t have on there are the ones for the upcoming fic swap on @imagining-in-the-margins ‘s discord! But that’s cuz they’re secret :)

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

I wish that I would finish the 85486824 WIPS I have, does that count? And that I would write down all the ideas I have in my head that I haven’t even given words yet.

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?

Ooh this is a tough one. I’m not really sure how to answer it actually. There have been fics that I come up with a general idea for a plot for first, and then others I will decide what characters I wanna write for before I have any clue as to what the plot might be.

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

Oh I am 100% the type of writer to let the story unfold as I go. I have outlined two, maybe three of my fics? And then I didn’t even follow through with them because I had more ideas come to me as I was writing.

Q: How do you feel about collaborations?

I would literally LOVE to collab with someone!

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

There are a ton, and I am so sorry if I missed any! @imagining-in-the-margins @randomfandomimagine @reidetic @lexieshuntingsstuff @writing-in-april @reidgraygubler @zhuzhubii @dreatine @andiebeaword @dontkissthewriter @spencers-dria @sunlight-moonrise @personofsinterest @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff @reidlusts @itslatinamagia

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Oh boy! 😅 There was only one bed, mutual pining, manic pixie dream girl, kissed to keep quiet, just to name a few!

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

Not that I can think of!

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

But I have way more than three :’( @imagining-in-the-margins is definitely the first one off the top of my head. Last year I was in a really bad spot, and she invited me to her Discord, and it helped me get back into writing. Plus I made some life long friends in the server. @writing-in-april I love her sm because she is always around when I need her, and it’s nice to have a friend that thinks fairly similarly to me. @lexieshuntingsstuff and @reidgraygubler go hand in hand! They are the best sprinting buddies a girl could ask for.

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Ooh this is a tough one. I can’t think of any off the top of my head! Lame answer, I know 😅

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

Definitely more specific ones lol. It makes it a lot easier on me.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

Reader >:))

Y: A character you want to protect.

SPENCER REID AND JASKIER OKAY THEY DESERVE THE WORLD

Z: Major character death–do you ever write/read it? Is there a character whose death you can’t tolerate?

Again- Spencer and Jaskier. I will not TOLERATE THEIR ERASURE !!

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jpegjade · 4 years

Text

Song prompts: Spencer

Song: Too Far Gone - Sir Sly

Warnings: loneliness and yearning and fluff and talks of mental illness ((barely touching on it tbh but we’ll come back to that in a different episode folks)) also this is long as fuck (oops sorry mom) so be prepared for a long one.

________________

Spencer watched the fan spin in the dark for the past hour, although it didn’t feel like that long. It felt like eternity. Hands folded on his chest, he tried to focus on his breathing for a while. But the more he focused on his breathing, the more he noticed how quiet everything was outside. While he typically enjoyed silence after a long day, there were nights when he couldn’t stand being alone in the silence. There were nights like tonight where all he wanted was for the silence to be filled with another set of lungs expelling air. He wanted anything other than to be alone right now, especially right now.

“Hello?” You said, groggy. It was god knows what time when he called to wake you up. He hated that he woke you up but you always reassured him that he wasn’t a bother. You would rather lose a little sleep and have an excuse to take a nap later than for him to lose sleep and feel alone. You knew what it felt like to be alone and when two people found each other, there was no going back to that place.

“Hey, darling.” He said into the phone. Even half asleep, your heart melted. His voice was so soft, so small. You could immediately tell something was wrong, but it wasn’t a nightmare. This type of softness was reserved for a different conversation. “Can’t sleep?” You said, already flipping off the cover to roll out of bed and get your version of a “go bag,” as Spencer once explained to you. “Yeah...” He said, trailing off. “Be there in a few.” You said, swinging open the door.

You didn’t have time to react when you smacked right into the middle of his chest. “Oof.” He said, instinctively grabbing onto your arms so you didn’t fall over. You looked stunned, and hald asleep, when you came to the relization of what was happening. “You’re here?” You asked, although you didn’t mean to have it sound like a question. It was obvious that he was right there but you didn’t know why. You always went to his place, whether he called you or you called him. It was just how it worked.

“Yeah, I thought I’d come to you for once. I missed your...” He looked around the dark room. “You. I just missed you.” He said, not even bothering to try to be clever. You dropped your bag and grabbed onto him. His rigid shoulders relaxed after he let out a big sigh. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in tighter. You just stood there, enveloped in each other for a moment.

“Let’s go to bed.” You said, begrudgingly letting go of him. He nodded his head and rubbed his eyes with a sweater paw. You pulled your excessively tall friend to the bed, leading him in the darkness, and you both climbed in slowly. He paused for a second, ditching his sweater and handing it to you as he got into bed. Like many nights before, you slipped it on and gor into bed. You didn’t need to lights on to attach to each other like magnets. The two of you had done this so many times, so many horrible nights, that you just new what worked best.

“What’s brought you here tonight, Spence?” You said, listening to his heartbeat. It was faster than it should’ve been. You knew because you knew his resting heartbeat and he was far from resting right now.

“Can I ever be too far gone for you to save me?” He said, his fingers lightly dragging themselves up and down your back, absentmindedly. He was trying to slow his thoughts but they were racing and even in the dark, you knew that he was thinking.

“No.” You said, not missing a beat. There was a quiet pause and you heard his heart speed up a little bit and his breath hitched. He was trying to stay calm. “You know why? Because you don’t give up on anyone. So why would I give up on you? Especially now, when you’re just getting back on your feet. It’s okay to not feel your best or be on top all of the time. You can be elated or catatonic and I will be there, Spencer. Now, you want to tell me what’s going through that head of yours?”

He kissed the top of your head, his hand continuing to lazily make its way up and down your back. You were getting sleepy but you had to fight it. This was important, to both of you.

“The headaches are back...” He said. “I don’t think it’s going to be fixed as easily as before. Between that and the nightmares about...” He inhaled a shakey breath, slowly letting it out. You reached up and wiped away his tears with the sweater that was incredibly too large for you. “But I shouldn’t talk about that right now. God, it’s basically 3 in the morning. You have work in a couple hours... Here, come closer.” He said, feeling your body relax as it grew heavier. His arm was going to be asleep in the morning but as long as you were still there, he could care less.

“You can say whatever is on your mind. I’m here for you, no matter what it is.” You knew that he was right but you also knew he was trying to hide his emotions again.

“They all leave...Or they get taken away from me. I just want stability. I want to know that I can count on someone to be here. I don’t even know if I can count on myself to be here and present when I don’t know if I’m... It’s passed down. And I thought I saw...” Shadow figures. Spencer had mentioned this to you before, causing him to go to the optomitrist.

“Baby. Listen to me. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere but possibly to sleep because damn, you’re comfortable and this sweater is soft.” You chuckled and heard him chuckle lightly. It wasnt forced. You heard the bass in his voice. “Yeah,” he started, “I knew you were going to steal it when I bought it so I really bought it for you and just put my scent on it.” He said, giving you another kiss on the top of your head.

“We’re going to get you figured out, Spence. And for better or worse, your best friend is right here. I’m right here. I will always be right here because you’re my person.” You said, wincing. “You’ve been watching Grey’s Anatomy without me.” He said, knowing. He had his suspicions earlier but you confirmed it.

“Okay, okay!” You heard him laugh a little and you relaxed. “I’ll rewatch with you after work tomorrow. Or today. I’m not sure. But only if you promise me that you’ll trust me to be here. Because I’m not going anywhere. Except to your bed tomorrow because mine is a little small for someone so long and lanky.” You said snuggling up to Spencer one last time.

“I trust you with my life...” He said, trailing off. The room was silent until you heard his soft snores filling the room. You always tried to wait him out when it came to tough conversations because you knew that he would just continue to think while you slept. “Spence, if you can hear me, squeeze my butt.” You whispered to him, just to test it. He didn’t move.

“I love you, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, closing your eyes. You had never said that out loud before but it had a nice ring to it. You would have to tell him when he woke up, if you ever got the courage...

“I love you too.” He said before nodding off to sleep again.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #oh my god im so lonely

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stunudo · 7 years

Photo

That Got Away: A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction Part 6

Inspiration: Katy Perry’s “The One That Got Away”

Union Pulse’s Better Days

Rating: Teen Featuring: Spencer x Reader

A/N: I am getting too caught up in this guys, thanks for all the love! You may notice something different about this bit… (The other song is from an old friend of mine’s old band, check them out on Spotify if you get a chance.) Oops this was supposed to be up tonight/ tomorrow. Still figuring out the delayed posts. I do not own any of the characters/ images/ lyrics. xoxo Stu

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

After Rossi and Prentiss had headed over to the campus, Hotch was going over the list of expected attendees to the late Dr. Y/L/N’s funeral. Garcia was on speaker, attempting to cross reference who was also in attendance at the gala the unsub had alluded to in their note to Spencer and Y/N.

“I can tell you everyone who was invited to the re-dedication ceremony initially,” Spencer interjected.

“Reid,” Hotch clarified, “This was over ten years ago. You would be able to remember the entire guest list?”

Morgan shook his head, amused. Spencer sat down with a yellow legal pad and began transcribing the original invite list that he helped develop in 1999. Morgan and Hotch just sat back, proud of their Boy Wonder, like always.

“Hotch, once I finish up with Y/N’s cognitive. What’s the play?”

“I’m planning on keeping some locals on her until we get our unsub,” Hotch admitted.”But we need to keep an eye on Reid. This is way more complicated than he had let on.”

Derek nodded in agreement, “I feel for the kid, Hotch.”

“We all do, but this unsub is cocky and organized. Reid is now a target and his emotions are involved.” Hotch leaned in and continued whispering, “Morgan we can’t have him putting himself or the team in danger.”

“Whoa, Hotch, enough,” Derek emphasized, his dark eyes boring into his supervisor’s cold stare.

Spencer timidly approached the pair, clearly at a stand off. He set the notepad down with a light thwack. “Let’s get this to Garcia, so she can narrow it down further. But this is everyone who was on the list.”

JJ woke up in a cement room. There was sunlight streaming through small windows on two of the walls, high above her head. She had lost her gun, cell, and consciousness, apparently. She tried to remember what happened before she blacked out, but she only recalled entering Y/N’s penthouse suite. She looked around for the professor. The room was a perfect square, twenty paces by twenty paces. The heavy metal door was locked from the outside without any sight glass or windows to investigate. JJ was furious she had been blindsided, endangering Y/N in the process. Where was she now?

Once in the rain with a real pretty girl I was so high that I thought I owned the world But I’m not a king, and she’s not around So that summer high is coming down It’s funny how we’re older every time I’m leaning on the shoulders that I once was Lifting high

Seeing Spencer had calmed your worry, but it hadn’t stopped your mind from wandering to him. After two more days, your dad mentioned that Spencer had made it back into the department after his “family emergency”. Yes, your goofy dad actually used the air quotes, not realizing it made it seem sarcastic. His social faux pas made you giggle in hindsight. After you had cleaned up from dinner and your dad had beat you in Backgammon. You sneaked into the study to call Spencer.

The pause between rings seemed to be a living taunt. Your thoughts a swirl of anticipation and concern. On the fourth ring you prepared yourself for the inevitable mechanical buzzing of the answering machine, but the ring came to an abrupt stop as a faint cracking voice, “Hello?”

“Hello, may I please speak to Spencer?” You asked snarkily.

“Y/N/N?,” Spencer answered surprised. “Hi, wow, hi.”

“Sir-sir, can I ask you a favor?” You whispered hastily into the phone, pacing through the empty room.

“Sure?” He seemed suspicious. “I mean, I can try to help.”

“Meet me outside your house in twenty minutes.” You told him, there was no possibility of refusal when you put your mind to it. After a moment of listening to each other breathe, Spencer resurfaced.

“Do I need to bring anything?” He asked concerned.

“A flashlight?” You guessed, you were winging it after all. “Oh, and a blanket.”

“Y/N, I don’t think this is a well thought out plan…” Spencer chided.

“You’re not wrong, but it is a very good idea.” You smiled smugly at yourself, picturing his judgemental face.

A knock to the conference room door distracted the remaining BAU agents.

“Come in,” Hotch bade. The head of security appeared winded, burst in.

“Sir?” He peeked inside the room, not wanting to waste time. “You need to come up to the Penthouse floor, there has been some kind of break-in. We think it is the room that Dr. Y/L/N was staying in.”

“Show me!” Spencer barked at the useless man as he led the way to the elevators.

“We got a call about a door being left open, routine stuff.” Security Guy explained, jamming the door close button behind Morgan and Hotch. “But when one of my guys checks it out, the door is broken down. Like police raid style. There was no one inside, but there is potential signs of struggle. And this.“ He hands a flip wallet to Hotch from his pocket. It was JJ credentials.

“You touched this?” Hotch amazed at the man, using a handkerchief to take it from the security guard.

“Sorry, sir, not used to real crime scenes.” The Security Guy mumbled.

Morgan was already on his phone, calling Detective Chang. Spencer was twitching with frustration at the man. ‘Don’t kill the messenger, Spencer’ he kept telling himself. The elevator ride to Y/N’s suite was a dirge through a bog in winter.

Finally the professionals were on the scene. “Alright, everybody, I need you to stop whatever it is you think you are doing right now!” Morgan barked at the two security guards waiting for their boss and the FBI. “Back out of the room, this is now a federal crime scene and you have tampered with evidence.”

Hotch tipped his head in annoyance and entered the room. It was grandiose, a kitchenette, walk in closet, a dinning room table which could seat four, despite the only one king sized bed. It had the air of a room someone had just popped out of, nothing stood out as being signs of a struggle. Well, except the broken chair, but that was neatly set aside.

“What’s with the chair?” Morgan asked, “It seems too obvious to be relevant.”

“That’s because it didn’t happen today.” Spencer confided, coolly.

“Now, how do you….” Morgan looked at the young doctor and back at the chair, shaking his bald head in disbelief. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” He raised his hands denying involvement. “Do you guys smell that?”

Spencer eyed Morgan suspiciously, expecting a bad joke. But he did catch something off about the air quality in the room. Hotch crossed the room back to where Morgan and Reid were talking. “It’s ether.”

Garcia was working her magic back home in Virginia, the clicking of her keyboard drowning out all the fans she had to keep her and her equipment cool. The searches she was running were going to take awhile, so she kept busy watching the security footage in front of her team’s hallway the night before the mystery letter arrived.

She saw Derek escorting a smartly dressed woman up to a door, but left her there to wait. “Good,” Penelope thought, “He doesn’t need to be distracted while on a case.” Slowly the door opened to reveal Reid who was very awkwardly inviting the vixen in to his room for the night, who Garcia finally realized must be Dr. Y/L/N, the daughter.

The footage was clear the rest of the night. JJ was up ungodly early, Garcia attributed it to the time change and baby routines. About ten minutes after JJ passed, a bellhop dropped off the envelope in front of Reid’s door. He left a gentle knock and returned to the elevator. Using her mad skills, she zoomed in on the name tag “Kurt”. Within minutes she had everything she could possible need to know about “Kurt”, such as he had nothing to do with the new threatening letter.

“What?” Rossi barked into his phone. He made a grim face at Emily from across the office of Olivia Madison.

“Dr. Madison,” Emily continued, nodding at Rossi’s concerned face. “Do you know if Dr. Y/L/N was having anyone over on Friday night? It appears that he knew his attacker.”

“Graham hadn’t said anything about having plans” the youngish professor answered calmly, “Other than wanting to grab lunch once his daughter was in town. We were going to meet yesterday, but that of course didn’t happen.”

“Do you know Y/N well?” Prentiss continued.

“Yes, I have known her almost as long as I have known Graham.” Olivia smiled.”She still lived at home when I began my doctoral studies here.”

“Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt her?” Emily pressed.

“Y/N?” Dr. Madison asked surprised. “No, why?”

“We are just covering all our bases here,” Emily brushed off the concern. “Please let us know if you hear or see anything that might involve Graham’s death.” Prentiss handed the Mathematics professor her card, smiling without teeth. After closing the uninformative interview, Emily approached Rossi.

“JJ and Dr. Y/L/N are missing.” The senior agent intimated discreetly.

“What?!” Emily’s face turned. “When? How?”

“It appears the unsub blindsided them in Y/N’s suite.” Rossi continued. “Hotch says he could still smell the ether.”

“How’s Reid?” Emily wondered out loud.

“How would you be?” Rossi countered.

All this money can’t buy me a time machine Can’t replace you with a million rings I should’ve told you what you meant to me ‘Cause now I pay the price

Spencer Reid was wearing sweat pants. You did not know the man-child owned anything besides pressed khaki and slacks. When you pulled up to the curb in front of his apartment building, it was just after 9 o’clock. He was waiting with a rolled up quilt and two, count them, two flashlights. What a boy scout, you thought, honking at your boyfriend.

He tried the door, but his hands were full. He dropped one of the flashlights and it rolled beneath the idling Volkswagen. You shook your head, this was going to be a longer night than your whimsy indicated. You unbuckled your seat belt and got out of the driver’s side.

“Need a hand, Spencer?” You asked over the hood. He dropped his entire bundle and laid down on his stomach to retrieve the first torch. His long arms were up to the task, deftly reaching the rolling beacon. After all the preparations were thrown in the backseat, you and Spencer buckled in for your evening of adventure.

You drove down to the beach, but not to be cliche. You wanted to distract Spencer for awhile, so you made him get into the driver’s seat. “I know you are amazing on your bike, but eventually you will need to use one of these beasts.” You patted the dashboard affectionately.

“I understand the mechanics of driving, Y/N/N.” Spencer muttered underneath his breath. “I just don’t like the idea of controlling something with such momentous force.”

“Hey,” You cooed, “You’ve got this! Besides, I am practically a professional driving as far as I do every semester.” You placed your hand on his, explaining each gear shift. After a few kills of the engine and squeals of the transmission, Spencer moved between gears fairly fluidly. You were pleased with your pupil and he was gaining confidence with you as well.

The night was growing cloudy when you drove down to the pier. You stole Spencer’s blanket and wore it like Little Red Riding Hood. He was on flashlight duty, since you refused to carry one. The lights of the city were enough. Finally you found a pylon to push Spencer into, kissing him with abandon. His shocked mouth still open once you found it. His arms held you to his warm torso, his soft clothing leaving little to your imagination.

The surf splashed around your feet as you found a comfortable kissing pace. After three very brief interactions with Spencer’s mouth, you had discovered another teenage rite of passage: the make out session. You could get used to this, even if it was a bit sloppy.

Part 7

@reid-my-fortune

@sparkle-dinosaur

@reiding-and-writing

@dontshootmespence

@holagubler

@imagicana

@speedreiding

@criminal-minds-fanfiction

@hotchnerfuckmeup

@lookingforgalifrey @cherry-loves-fanfic

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfictions #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer imagine #fluff #flashbacks #katy perry #union pulse #sorry james #where's y/n #ugh what is happening #teen angst #jj #ssa jennifer #bau #stu

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