#i just keep getting phds: spencer reid

[torturedheart]

@hiddenstarters || open starter

Spencer knew what DC was like, this- although exact in look was not DC. Something was off, no matter how much the blue skies dared to lure him into a false sense of security. Not when he had been in Oregon just the night before on a case. He looks up then down the street, trying to make sense of it all. “What…is going on here?” He questions before finding a sign for Rock Creek Park. The park, that would be a good place for him to make sense of everything. He sets off, converse covered feet moving quickly as he scanned the area, everything was as it should be. Although his mind flashed danger lights in his head.

#Muse: Spencer Reid #I just keep getting PhDs: Spencer Reid #hw: starter

[reiderwriter]

♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡

Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡

Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)

A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence. 

“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried. 

“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly. 

“But I'm not a woman.” 

“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again. 

“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.” 

“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter. 

It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.

The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down. 

Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again. 

“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter. 

“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise. 

“And your name is?” 

“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.” 

You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body. 

“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?” 

Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up. 

With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub. 

He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could  bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason. 

“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest. 

“Good observation, Spencer.” 

“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head. 

“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor. 

His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again. 

Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him. 

A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that. 

When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours. 

You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election. 

You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.” 

Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you. 

He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together. 

You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet. 

So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway. 

“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him. 

“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin. 

He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him. 

“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-” 

“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?” 

His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape. 

“I-I'm not a student, and-” 

“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.” 

His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist. 

His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex. 

Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you,  desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you. 

Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper. 

He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him. 

His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley. 

“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?” 

“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him. 

“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.” 

His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin. 

You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation  had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched. 

You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him. 

He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth  grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust. 

You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin. 

“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock. 

“Did it hurt?” 

“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.” 

He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving. 

He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for. 

With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to. 

“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him. 

“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure. 

“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.” 

“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier. 

He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you. 

You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there. 

You weren't. 

“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?” 

You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today. 

There was always tomorrow. 

He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed. 

“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder. 

He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there. 

Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up. 

He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.

“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.” 

You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words. 

The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs. 

It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.

“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?” 

He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely. 

Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened. 

“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.

“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs. 

He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head. 

Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch. 

“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out. 

“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug. 

“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.” 

“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer. 

“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.” 

You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him. 

“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.” 

The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal. 

Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake. 

“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.” 

He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts. 

“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?” 

“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be. 

“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?” 

Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there. 

“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?” 

His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct. 

You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer. 

“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again. 

His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning. 

“You knew the entire time? Who I was?” 

“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”

“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.” 

You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest. 

“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled. 

“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.” 

He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again. 

“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his. 

“Y/N, please let's be sensible.” 

“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?” 

“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans. 

“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.” 

His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit. 

“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut. 

He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly. 

“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.” 

He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him. 

“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?” 

“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue. 

“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?” 

He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them. 

“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth. 

“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.” 

But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry. 

“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again. 

This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock. 

You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock. 

It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so. 

“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time. 

Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair. 

“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.” 

His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for. 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

WC: 1.8k

TW: Serial killers, murders, blood, referencing to infidelity,

A/N: This has been something I have been thinking about for a while. I hope y'all enjoy it!

Spencer did not realize that someone could know more about anything intellectual than he did. It honestly baffled him, when Hotch called him into the office, to introduce the two of you. 

“Spencer this is Doctor Y/N Y/L/N, Doctor Y/L/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” 

He gave you a small smile, and a slightly awkward wave. You were beautiful, there was no doubt about it, an absolute plus to the fact that you were intelligent. He was captivated by your eyes but quickly coughed and looked back at Hotch. 

“Doctor Y/L/N—”

“Please Agent, call me by my first name after the initial introductions, Doctor makes me feel a tad bit ridiculous after like the second time.” You couldn’t have been more than twenty four, Reid deduced. 

Hotch smiled at you, nodding. “Please, call me Aaron, or Hotch, I feel the same way about agent. Reid,” He turned towards Reid. “Y/N, is going to be a consultant on this next case, and you two will be working closely together.”

Reid was suddenly excited by the prospect of working with a consultant. He usually dreaded them, but something about you made him excited to actually be able to converse intellectually with someone on the team. 

But luckily for Morgan, you were not what anyone was expecting. You all had boarded the jet, sitting around and chatting since you had a long flight from DC to Oregon, not really willing to get into the details of the case just yet. 

“So, Doctor Y/L/N, what made you choose Shakespeare?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Agent Morgan, if you keep using my official title, you’re going to be talking to the wall. Wanna try again?” 

His jaw dropped slightly, enjoying the banter you were providing. Derek Morgan was far from ugly, far from it. But he simply wasn’t your type. But that did not mean you couldn’t flirt back. 

“Well then, Miss Y/N, why Shakespeare.” 

You smiled, “Shakespeare is just another language. And I already speak French, Arabic, Spanish, some Latin, a little Greek, and I’m learning enough Mandarin and Cantonese to get by on my next trip to China. So understanding Shakespeare from a linguistic point, I’ve already got covered. Especially since it was something I could read easily from a young age.” 

JJ and Emily had stopped their conversation and turned to face you, eagerly listening in to what you have to say. 

“But, from a theatrical point, his writing is so incredibly intricate. There are layers upon layers of text and context and subtext throughout all of his plays and sonnets, not to mention the fact that Shakespeare can be transformed, moved from one thing to another incredibly easily. You have to factor in that he was a misogynist, anti semitic, probably-most-definitely racist, among all of the other things, but adapting his works throughout time is something I have a special interest in, particularly his portrayal of woman and how that has been changed throughout productions over the years, mainly focusing in comedies and this strange need for him to have happy endings end in weddings.”

The jet was all staring at you, while a smirk slowly slid onto Derek’s face. “Looks like you got some competition here, Pretty Boy.” 

You shrugged at Derek, and looked back at your phone. “I appreciate competition more than meaningless run-around conversations Derek. If you’re going to profile me, then just profile me. Or google me really. There’s no need to prod and pretend like you’re not trying to find out whether or not I’m single. If you wanted to ask me out, you should just ask me out.” 

Jaws on the plane dropped. Derek tried to stutter out a response but was cut off by Emily, smirking over at him. “Besides consulting on murder cases, what do you actually do with a PhD in Shakespeare?”

You looked up at Emily and shrugged. “Whatever I really want to do. It’s just flexible enough that I can bullshit a job I want and take it, excluding present company. Usually I consult in England with the Globe Theatre and the Royal Shakespeare Company, I also guest lecture Shakespeare for younger audiences, like high schoolers and first years in college because I’m still young enough that I could be considered nerdy by a high schooler, but have college freshmen not be able to talk to me because I’m just good enough to get away with it.”

“What did you get your undergrad in?” Spencer spoke for the first time to you since you met him, you smiled a little bit. 

“No one really asks me that.” You looked over at Spencer. “I have a bachelors in Directing with minors in English Literature, French, and Classics, and then I went on and got my Masters in Art History, since the visual aspect of the Arts is what interests me so much.” 

Rossi nodded, “Makes sense considering I’ve seen your thesis–very impressive.” 

“What did you write about?” JJ looked over at you. 

“I–” You started but Rossi interrupted you. “Actually, if any of you had done any research, or were familiar with the Theatrical Arts, you would know that her thesis was an incredibly well-received production of Hamlet that delved into the female psyche and experience.” 

Your jaw dropped slightly. “I-I didn’t think you, any of you would have even known that. Let alone had time to go and see my production?”

“Well, I have a fondness for the arts.” 

You shook your head. “Or incredible timing.” 

“Wha–timing?” JJ scoffed. 

“Well,it’s— the program was in London, and it was only running for a few weeks…”

“Rossi when the hell did you go to London?” Derek finally spoke up, slightly captivated by you, but not in the way Reid was. You were something else, something completely new, which meant he could learn, and you were something he wanted to learn everything about. 

“Well, right before I rejoined the BAU, I did a lecturing series over at Scotland Yard, and everyone had been discussing this production by the youngest female director to ever direct at the Bridge Theatre. I loved your use of, what were they, silks?” 

You nodded, slightly embarrassed, mostly in awe. 

“Ah yes, your usage of silks and the columns. I was on the floor, part of the cattle that was moved around. Very innovative use of that space, very impressive.” 

“I’d have to agree.” Hotch spoke up, and you turned to look at him, eyes even wider than before. He smiled at the look on your face. “When we got this case, and we were requesting you as a consultant, I watched the recording. Very good work Y/n.”

“W-wow, um, thank you so much Age–Hotch. I really appreciate it–from the both of you.” You smiled at him and Rossi. 

“I would love to hear all about this production, if you don’t mind me asking.” Emily slid across the aisle, taking the seat across from you, JJ doing the same, crowding Derek. 

“Well, as Rossi said, it was about the female experience, and my Hamlet, was absolutely incredible, really took on the queer aspect of the role since Ophelia was still a woman, and–” You explained the concept, the design, the thought behind all of it. Every single person on the plane was simply obsessed with you by the time you were done, asking questions when they were curious. It confounded Spencer how he had never really paid attention to that section of the world of academia, and he was almost beating himself up over it, because he had missed you this whole time. 

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“Eyes look your last, Arms take your—this is Romeo’s death monologue before he stabs himself. And this other one, is ‘Be buried quick with her, and so will I’, which is Hamlet trying to fight Laertes after he learns of Ophelia’s death…And..this is the one from this morning ” You turned to the sheriff who was just trying to make sense of the fact that you just were able to comprehend and relay Shakespearean information after reading the images of the victim's blood used on the walls, so calmly. “Sheriff?”

“Sorry, yes. Yes” 

You frowned a bit, “They’re getting more violent. This is Brutus finding out Portia is dead–’with meditating that she must die once, I have the patience to endure it now…”

Reid looked over at you, “All of them are the men’s reactions to the death of their beloved.” 

You nodded and sighed. “That means, uh…If he has a list,” You walked over to the white board and started writing the names of the fictional couples on it. “He still has Antony and Cleopatra…Macbeth and Lady Macbeth,,,,and….”

“And what?” The sheriff looked between you and Reid, as you turned a little white. “The um. The last couple dealing with murder/suicide of each other is, uh, Othello.”

Hotch gave you a look. “Explain.” 

“What do you know about Othello?” 

Hotch furrowed his brow.

You took his silence as permission to ramble. “It’s just a theory but, it’s regarded as not only one of the most tragic endings to lovers, even beyond the stupid miscommunications of Romeo and Juliet, because Othello kills his wife, believing she had cheated on him, suffocating her to death on their marriage bed, and then once he realizes he’s been tricked by Iago, he kills himself next to her body. It’s horrendous.”

“If I had to guess, He’s forcing the husbands to kill their wives, and then he kills them..” Spencer followed up, analyzing the pictures across the tables. “Based on the way they were positioned—he’s setting them up as a series of muder-suicides, just like Shakespeare.” 

“Actually.” You picked up one of the pictures and handed it to Hotch. “I think it’s a woman.” 

“You just stole Reid’s line.” Derek mused from the doorway, handing you a cup of coffee, which you gratefully accepted. 

Reid huffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not my line.” 

“It is.” Hotch said dryly as he analyzed what you had just told him. “Y/n, can you please get me a list of the monologues left, so we can try and figure out who might be his next victims, so we can try and link the victims we do have.” 

You nodded and sat down at your laptop. It was bugging you slightly at how much you enjoyed working on this case, working with the BAU, working with Doctor Reid. 

This was the most action your PhD had seen since you had written it. 

Part 2

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #Spencer reid x y/n angst #Dr Spencer reid x dr!reader

[just-wrting]

Secret Admirer

Title: Secret Admirer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: You've been trying to figure out who keeps leaving you little notes and gifts. Despite everyone else knowing, you keep denying the obvious answer.

Word Count: 1721

Master List

A/N: This will probably be the only thing I write for Reid. I'm not super into him but when the List Randomizer spat out secret admirer I weirdly thought of him. I plan on trying to write a bunch of different characters from a bunch of different fandoms. Just whoever pops into my head I guess. Two will probably be posted Friday.

You aren’t sure when you noticed it. Maybe it was the fact that your desk was always clean. Maybe it was the little extra things that started to appear. Slowly but surely, you realized you had someone who was leaving you gifts and notes. You had a secret admirer.

Despite your efforts, no one on the team would say anything. For several weeks, you pressed the issue with the other BAU members, yet no one cracked. In fact, you were teased about being unable to figure it out. How could a member of the BAU not figure out their mystery admirer?

“Come on Garcia! I know you know. You have to tell me,” you plead with the tech genius. “You’ve literally been avoiding me. I know you know.”

She lets out a squeak before running to the safety of her lair. Morgan is giving you a smirk and shaking his head. Despite your scowl, he chooses to tease you.

“Come on, (L/N), can’t you figure it out? Who could be this mystery man leaving you gifts and fancy letters?” He laughs as he pokes the latest gift, a small stuffed version of your favorite animal.

“Hey, leave my new son out of this. What did he ever do to you?” you grumble, pulling it closer to you. “I didn’t even realize someone remembered such a little detail.”

“Maybe that means it’s been a long time crush.”

At that moment, Reid sets his bag down and takes a seat at his desk. You think you see Morgan’s grin get wider, but it’s hard to tell given how wide his smile usually is. It’s a picture perfect smile.

“That’s a relatively cute stuffed animal. I’ve actually been reading up on that one recently if you’d like to know more,” he offers. “Only if you’re interested of course.”

Reid gives you his charming boyish smile. It goes well with demeanor and you can’t help but find it cute.

“As long as you’re willing to leave out the creepy facts. I don’t even remember telling anyone my favorite animal,” you say with a smile. “Who would remember such a little detail?”

Morgan chimes back in, “Maybe someone with a perfect memory. Like what the kid has.”

You sigh. “Reid seems to like highly intelligent women with PhDs. I may be smart, but I’m not smart enough.”

Before anyone can protest, Hotch calls you all to the conference room for a case. While you’re sure Reid is nice enough to help whoever has a crush on you, you doubt you’d be his type. Maybe Reid is the perfect person to question about the mystery man.

—-

“Reid, (L/N), you two stay here and look through the papers,” Hotch orders before leaving the precinct.

You frown. What’s the point of having you here? Reid can read faster than you can. It’s almost like you’re just here for moral support in case he gets tired.

“Well now I feel useless,” you groan. “What am I even supposed to do?”

Reid doesn’t look up as he speaks. “Maybe today you’re our mascot. After all, mascots are supposed to be cute.”

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh. “Not all mascots are cute. Recognizable is definitely more important than cute. Besides, am I really that cute?

“I meant to say that compared to Morgan, you’re cute.” Reid buries his head further into the papers.

You ponder for a moment. “Well, you’ve got some charm. Morgan has the charm of he’s good with women so that’s why he gets hit on. Hotch is mature and a leader so that’s why women are into him. You’re cute though. You’ve got this soft sort of shyness that makes you adorable.”

You don’t catch Reid’s reply. His face is completely hidden behind various files. Maybe he’s just embarrassed, given that he’s always been a bit bad with taking compliments. That doesn’t stop you from thinking that it’s adorable.

“Speaking of your charms. I like the fact that you’ve got a good memory. You wouldn’t happen to know who’s got a crush on me, would you?”

He doesn’t look up. “I can pass along a message if you’d like.”

“Well then, I suppose you should tell this guy to ask me out. I can say for certain that if he’s this considerate, that he’s already got my interest.”

“I’ll do that,” he mumbles before handing you a file. “Take a look at this. I think I’ve found what we’ve been missing.”

—-

You peer into the lecture hall. It took some convincing, but you have successfully dragged J.J. to one of Lewis’ classes. You gesture vaguely into the room.

“See! That’s what normal Reid is. Dorky jokes, random facts, and the rambling on for ages is what makes him Reid. That’s not what he’s like around me anymore,” you hiss.

She makes a face and shakes her head. “So you have a different Reid? I don’t think he’s been replaced (L/N). Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard.”

You scoff. “No I’m not. Reid just seems so nervous around me. Did I do something? He barely looks at me anymore.”

With a shrug, she leads you away. “Have you tried asking him?”

You toss your empty coffee cup in a trash can. Part of you wants to throw up your hands and be done. Why is everyone treating this like it’s normal? No one is giving you any answers.

“Of course I have J.J. It would be weirder if I hadn’t. He clearly knows something about this secret admirer of mine, but won’t tell.”

J.J. pats your arm comfortingly. “Maybe it’s because he’s your secret admirer. Perhaps you need to ask him out.”

“Yeah sure. I’ll ask him out once I have the evidence that he’s the person leaving me these gifts.”

J.J. raises her eyebrows as she drinks from her coffee. Her face says she has other thoughts, but she won’t press the matter further. Your gut tells you to trust her, but you’d rather not make a fool of yourself. Sure, she knows Reid better than you do, but Reid can be difficult to read.

—-

After reading the latest note, you search your desk for your stapler. You’ve been stapling the date and time to each note before tucking it in your desk. However, it’s missing.

You let out a groan. This isn’t the first time it’s been in the wrong spot, and you’re sick of it. You opt to beg Garcia to look at the camera footage to see who’s been using it.

“Hey Garcia? Can you please pull up the footage of my desk this morning? Someone’s been using my stapler, and today they stole it,” you grumble with a scowl. “Whoever took it is going to get some very strong words.”

As she speeds through the footage, you watch the people who got there before you. At first, you see Reid pause at your desk and fiddle with something. You note that he’s the only person in the office at the time, but after he pulls away, you see your stapler still on the desk.

The next person to stop at your desk is Morgan. He pulls your stapler off your desk and staples his paperwork together as he heads to Hotch’s office. He never sets it back on your desk.

“Garcia? Can you please get my stapler from that idiot?”

She laughs. “Has he been using your stapler this whole time? He said there wasn’t any more in the supply room.”

You shake your head. “You like him so much, you can retrieve my stolen goods from him.”

Garcia nods. “I’m on it. You can count on me.”

You leave her to her planning. You don’t comment on the fact that Reid had been at your desk. If you ask her about it, she’ll just  leave you alone to go get your stapler. This is enough evidence for you though. It’s time to confront Reid.

Thankfully, he’s made his way to the conference room to look for something. You sneak in behind him and stand between him and the door.

“So, what did you need from my desk this morning?”

You watch him jump and spin around. He looks shocked, but quickly covers it up.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, (L/N).”

You frown. “I found out my stapler was missing. Garcia showed me the footage and before it went missing, you were at my desk. What did you do?”

Reid opens and closes his mouth a few times. He doesn’t look at you. His hands keep fiddling with whatever he’s holding.

“Forget about it, I’m sure there was just some trash leftover that you cleaned up.”

He swallows hard. “Yeah. I didn’t want you to have to worry about it.”

You give him a smile. “Thanks. Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you about something else. The others seem to think I’m just talking myself out of it, but I think I can't put it off any longer.”

You make your way towards him, your smile still plastered on your face. You can tell he’s even more nervous now.

“Reid, are you my secret admirer?”

This time, Reid looks you in the eyes. You hear his breath hitch in his throat.

“What if I am?”

You’re a bit taken aback. Despite the determination you had walking into this, you aren’t sure what to say.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your voice is a whisper now. It feels like some sort of dream. It’s almost like if you talk too loud, this whole thing will shatter and you’ll be left in pieces.

“I didn’t think you’d like me back. Your type just didn’t seem to include me.”

Reid hesitantly pushes a strand of hair out of your face.

“You’re more my type than you realize.”

“Then do you want to get dinner tonight?”

Now you’re the one who's acting nervous. Your palms are sweaty. It’s more difficult to breathe. You can’t help but bite your lip.

“I’d like that. If you’re willing to get dinner with me.”

Reid leans down, and gives you a quick kiss. It barely lasts a second, but you can feel your skin heat up. When he pulls away, he stays close.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

#reader insert #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic

[radiant-reid]

hiii Cate!

Ok I think I have officially read everything you’ve ever written ( disregard the mini spam I went on yesterday) but i just came to the realization that I have never requested or like once requested something. So fell free to disregard this but your hot wife blurbs got me thinking. Can you do one where she’s new to the BAU and everyone is placing bets on who she would date but everyone strikes out until they find out that she’s a lil nerd which phds and everything and they do so by Spencer going “well Mrs Reid you working here now will be the best ever” and Hotch or someone just goes “yeah if you morons would listen to Penelope instead of placing bets you would realize he’s hyperventilating having noticed that Spencer and her are married.

ANYWAYS HII I LOVE YOUR WRITING AND I HOPE YOURE HAVING A GOOD DAY.

i am SO sorry it took me so long to write this grecy and i kinda switched this up a little as well !! i hope you're doing well

"It's going to be me," Morgan declares, leaning back in his chair as the three of them not-so-subtly stare into Hotch's window and at the new woman sitting in front of him. She had been in there since they got into the bullpen that morning.

Emily and JJ scoff at him. "It'll be me. JJ agrees." Emily disagrees. They're arguing- without even having met her- over who's going to date her.

"No." JJ shakes her head. "I didn't say that. Hotch is single, you know?"

"That's what I'd be betting on." Spencer chimes in, somehow managing to hide his smirk.

"Seriously?" Morgan asks, frowning at Spencer in the way he does whenever dating or relationships are brought up. "She's way too hot to be Hotch's girlfriend."

Spencer can't keep everything he knows in for much longer. "I heard she's got a Ph.D. so she's probably too smart to be yours."

"Hey," Morgan complains, whining. "I could date a doctor."

They all frown, tipping their heads to the side and silently asking him if he's serious. Before Morgan can defend himself, Penelope gets their attention, practically buzzing with her iPad in her hand.

And before they can ask her what's got her so excited- something Spencer can guess since she's pointing at him- Hotch and the mystery woman walk, shaking hands, and where they can all hear them. "We're excited to have you on the team, Doctor Reid."

They all catch that, their heads quickly switching between Spencer and his...wife?

"I think someone already figured it out." She jokes, looking at Penelope, who's freaking out. "I'm Y/n Reid, Spencer's wife." She holds out the back of her hand, showing off the rings on her finger.

"And she's not going to date any of you," Spencer adds, glaring playfully at speechless Morgan and Emily.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb

[the-guilty-writer]

Valid

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After experiencing a non-epileptic seizure, Spencer refuses to leave your side.

A/N: Oh you know… just me writing to try to help heal from medical trauma.

CW: reader experiences a non-epileptic seizure, mentions of medical gaslighting.

---

For once, you found a doctor that you didn’t hate. Of course, most of the doctors you hated were MDs and Spencer had three PhDs, so he wasn’t a medical doctor, but sometimes just the Dr. abbreviation in front of the name was enough to make you upset.

You wondered, sometimes, if those doctors would have a different opinion about the cause of your so-called “psychogenic” seizure condition if they knew that you didn’t have seizures when you thought about how angry you were at them, despite their insistence that strong emotions were surely the cause of your episodes. If it wasn’t that, then they’d say it was repressed trauma, despite having therapists and psychological evaluators tell you that they didn’t see anything concerning. In the early days, you’d kept track of everything, hoping to find a trigger that was avoidable or something that you could work through, but you never did. And medical professionals never believed you.

There was nothing they could do.

You worked at the BAU, but not on the team. Your job was all about VICAP- analyzing the data to help look for any serial crimes that crossed state lines to give the FBI jurisdiction, and to evaluate if any of them required the expertise of the BAU. As soon as your position was added to the unit, Spencer had become intrigued with your job.

“You’re doing a geographical profile on the whole nation, essentially,” he had said.

“Essentially,” you had replied.

Because of safety reasons, everyone you worked with knew about your condition, but you didn’t make a big deal out of it. If anything, you tried to hide it as much as possible. When you did have seizures, you usually caught an aura in time that you could close your office door, lay down to make sure you were safe, and recover in peace. That was the only reason you were thankful that your office, which was previously JJ’s, wasn’t in the bullpen.

Most of the time, however, you were in the bullpen- sitting at a spare desk with at least two computers and a stack of spreadsheets. That’s exactly where you were today.

“Anything interesting?” Spencer asked as he came by your desk, leaning against it and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Possibly,” you replied. “And by possibly I mean there is about a-” you typed in a few numbers on your computer. “0.0032% chance that there’s a serial killer crossing between Texas, Oklahoma, and Kansas.”

“You know,” Spencer started. You probably did know, but you let him keep talking anyway. “For an organized killer that would be a great way to evade detection considering all the jurisdiction lines that would be crossed.”

“That’s why I check it every week,” you told him. “I might not be a profiler, but I do know my statistics and geography.”

“Oh, that reminds me of…” Spencer began to ramble on about a new paper that had just been published. “I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” you went to smile, but it faltered slightly as the wave of an aura washed over you. And this time it was the kind that you knew was coming hard and fast. “I’ll be back-”

You got out of your chair and began to walk towards the bathroom. You wouldn’t make it to your office, but maybe you could save yourself the embarrassment of having to explain your unexplainable condition. Weakly, you opened up the bathroom door and stumbled inside.

Even thought it hadn’t stopped a seizure in the past, you leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on your face with the hope that it might work just this once. You felt the aura get stronger, more intense, and your body began to give out.

You crumbled to the bathroom floor- your vision leaving you and your control over your body gone. It felt like your brain had turned to mush. There was a faint sound of a door opening, but you weren’t sure if it was real or not, because the next thing you knew, you were out cold.

---

When you started to come too- the liquified world becoming solid once again- you smelled Spencer. It was his cardigan, balled up under your head. The next thing that cleared up was your hearing, but the only thing you could hear was the soft buzzing of the bathroom lights that needed to be replaced. And then there was your vision. It always came back last and was the slowest to clear, but when it did come back to you, you were met by the sight of Spencer.

There was a sort of panicked calm about him- his eyes wide with worry, but his voice soothing as he talked.

“Hey,” Spencer said calmly. “It’s Spencer. You had a seizure. Just relax.”

You took a deep breath. It could be hard to speak after a seizure sometimes, but you were able to get some words out. You started to focus on your breathing, letting the world come back to you slowly. “I’m fine.”

“You had a seizure,” Spencer said again. “Please relax. I don’t think you’re fully coherent yet.”

“I’m fine, Spencer,” you said. You carefully tried to sit up, but your head was still fuzzy and your body was still weak. Slowly, you pulled your torso upward and leaned against the wall for support before handing Spencer’s cardigan back to him and closing your eyes. “Please, just leave.” You felt heavy with embarrassment.

“I’m not going to leave you,” Spencer said gently. He sat down next to you on the floor. “You shouldn’t be alone after that.”

You opened your eyes a bit, trying to get used to the lights. “Spencer, please-”

“No,” this time he said it far more firmly. “I’m going to stay with you until you’ve recovered.”

Tears began to well in your eyes and you felt yourself wanting to sob. “They’re not even real,” you whispered. Those were the words the doctors had told you. Even after years of trying everything from CBT to biofeedback to mediation… they all just believed you were hysterical or looking for attention. “They’re not a big deal.”

“I saw it,” Spencer said, his voice taking on a higher tone. “It was real, and it was scary, and it is a big deal.”

“Then why don’t the doctors think it’s real? Why do they say it’s all in my head?” you said quietly. A tear slipped down your cheek, but you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the humiliating feeling that a coworker had seen you at your worst, or the echoes of the voices of all the specialists that told you that you were crazy over and over again.

Spencer took your hand gently, trying to comfort you. “It’s not all in your head. There’s so much about the brain that we don’t know- it’s possible that what causes your seizures scientists don’t even know exist yet. Just because they can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t real. It isn’t your fault that medical professionals feel the need to blame things they can’t see on psychiatric issues instead of being open minded,” Spencer tripped over his words just a little. You hadn’t spent months hanging around profilers to have caught onto nothing.

“You sound like you speak from experience,” you said quietly. There was a pause. “But you don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I-” Spencer said. “I want to tell you.” He sighed. “A few years ago I was having headaches. They’d last days at a time. I couldn’t focus at work and it cut my reading speed in half.” If you had the strength you would have laughed at that- even at half the speed, Spencer could still read about five times as fast as the average person. “And I got every test and image done imaginable, but the doctors told me it was all in my head.”

His hand was still in yours and you squeezed it gently in support. He smiled gently. “I ended up finding a geneticist that helped me. She had me superdosing with a few vitamins at certain intervals and they cleared up eventually.”

“I’m happy for you,” you told him. It was sincere. As hard as it was to watch other people get better while you still suffered, you were always glad they didn’t have to continually experience pain.

“I wish I could help you,” he said.

“You’re the only doctor I know who hasn’t minimized my experience and told me that yoga and therapy will make it go away. That’s more help than an MD has given me in years.” You opened your eyes fully, having started to recover more.

Spencer’s eyes were wide and longing, like if he looked at you with enough sympathy it would take all the trauma of being gaslit for years taken away. “You’re not crazy. Your condition is real, No matter what anyone says.” He squeezed your hand again. “You’re valid.”

There weren’t words to express the relief his words gave you, so you had to settle and hope that he could feel, through the touch of your hands, how impactful his acknowledgement was.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Really. Thank you.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x platonic!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

[cloudy-em]

Bad Cop - Badass!Confident!reader x Soft!Shy!Spencer Reid

gender neutral reader!!

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When Y/N first walked into the BAU, they had a chilled confidence surrounding them that made me nearly cower at my desk. Hotch had told the team we were getting a new member, but I expected some bright-eyed newly recruited agent to walk through our doors. Y/N held themself with such grace and confidence. They made eye contact with me, and I looked away immediately, flipping through a file on my desk and pretending to read it slowly. The next thing I knew, Y/N was in front of me, introducing themself before practically strutting away. They showed no signs of overexcitement or nervousness that every newcomer in the BAU holds. It was mildly intimidating that Y/N lacked that. 

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It’s been 6 months, 13 days, and 44 minutes since Y/N first joined our team. They’ve been more helpful than I initially expected. They hold their PhD in human behavior studies and had previously worked in the Crimes Against Children Unit for 3 years before being sent up to the BAU. Y/N is very intelligent and always plays the “bad cop” role (incredibly effectively, might I add) whenever we have to interview suspects. They show no fear in the field, either, and they have not lost the confident energy surrounding their presence. I wish I could hang out with Y/N more often. I talk to them enough to do my job, but whenever drinks with the team or a game night comes up, I find myself stuttering out a lame excuse. It’s just that Y/N is cool and I don’t want to embarrass myself. I find my thoughts drifting to them often, even in the SUV as we’re on our way to an unsub’s warehouse, where he’s keeping a 15 year old girl prisoner. The SUV slows to a stop, hidden from view of the warehouse by tree cover and distance. We pile out of the cars, reviewing what we discussed at the local police station. 

“Remember, he wants as much time with her as he can get, which is why he’s turned his warehouse into a maze. He doesn’t think he can outsmart us; he just needs to delay us so he can finish his ritual. We move quickly in pairs. Clear the rooms, but don’t spend long getting distracted or held up by his puzzles. Our goal is to get to Mariah as quickly as possible,” Hotch states, the team and additional police officers nod. 

“Prentiss, Morgan take the south entrance and move around the perimeter. Reid, L/N take the south entrance and move towards the center,” Hotch’s voice trails off as he continues giving assignments for the warehouse maze, but all I can focus on is the fact that Y/N and I are going to be partners for this. I can hold my own, sure, but Y/N? They could probably take out 10 people by themself! I don’t want them to see me as incapable, because I’m not. I’ve passed all of my tests, written and physical. But by comparison, I’m a mouse and Y/N is a falcon. 

I’m brought back into reality by Y/N. “You ready?” they ask genuinely. I’ve never had the pleasure of being partnered with Y/N, but I’ve heard Emily say they take partner work very seriously. They’re committed. I nod at them for fear my voice would crack due to how dry my throat is. They nod back before turning around and calling a “let’s go” over their shoulder. The team jogs towards our respective entrances, Morgan and Prentiss in front of Y/N and I. We arrive at our destination, the south entrance, and Morgan tries the rusted metal door. Emily and Y/N both have their firearms raised, ready to enter and clear when Derek opens the door. He nods at them and they nod back. They clear and Derek and I enter before splitting up to join our partners. 

“You guys go left, that will lead you around the perimeter and those rooms. L/N and I are gonna go right so we can work our way towards the center,” I say, my eidetic memory not failing me as I recall the warehouse map from earlier. The other three nod before we begin to move. Y/N and I are quiet as we walk down the concrete corridor, guns raised and clearing each room as we move. 

Y/N pauses and I glance at them, questioning the sudden stop. “I hear something,” they whisper to me. Sure enough, there’s a sound ahead. Y/N points down the corridor and we walk towards the sound, picking up our pace as the sound grows in volume. I whisper into my mic where we are, letting the rest of the team know we’re onto something. Before it can even register, Y/N runs to the end of the hall with their guns raised, bursting into the room.

“FBI, drop your weapon!” I hear them announce firmly, as I enter the room with my firearm at the ready as well, I see our unsub kneeled in front of Mariah. She’s chained to the wall and the unsub has a knife in his hand. 

“Did you not hear me, dumbass, I said drop it!” They shout this time. The male laughs and he brings the knife closer to Mariah slowly, like he’s teasing the idea of whether he should hurt her or not. Y/N doesn’t hesitate. 

They launch themself across the room and onto the unsub, gun sliding across the room, and their sudden weight forcing his body to the floor. They twist his arm, causing him to drop the knife. “I don’t give third chances,” Y/N says. “On your stomach!” they order. He doesn’t listen. Y/N forces him onto his stomach, cuffing him and patting him down. As they move to press on his shoulders and biceps, ensuring he has nothing hidden there, he moves his head down to bite their finger. 

“Motherfucker!” Y/N yells, reactively punching him. “Where’s the key for Mariah’s restraints, huh?” they ask. He’s silent. “Tell me or I’ll hit you again!” he sighs and mutters that the key is around his neck. They pull it off of him throwing it across the room for me to catch (I did!) and I approach Mariah, trying to be as gentle as I can with her as I unlock the cuffs from around her wrists. She thanks me, throwing herself onto me in a hug. I pat her back, helping her stand up so we can walk her out of the building to her family and the waiting EMTs. 

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“Successful op, huh Reid?” I hear Y/N approach as I’m standing by the ambulance, waiting for the EMTs to finish checking on Mariah. I’m a bit surprised. “Oh, um, yeah, except for you I guess.” Y/N raises an eyebrow in question. “He bit you, that’s gotta hurt, right?” I ask. Y/N shrugs. 

“Not really. It bled, sure, but it’s okay,” they tell me. I suddenly feel myself worried over their well-being. I place my hand between their shoulder blades, a silent request for them to follow me to the SUV. 

“Sit, please,” I mutter, grabbing one of the first aid kits we keep in the glovebox. Y/N smiles at me, and I try to keep my blush as bay when I smile back. I use hand sanitizer to clean my own hands before rubbing some into Y/N’s hands. “We’ll wash them and reapply the bandage when we’re back at the station, but this is okay for now,” I tell them and they nod in response. I place a bandage and antibacterial ointment on the wound, wrapping their finger snugly. 

“Oh, thank you, Doctor! You’ve saved me!” Y/N says, laughing at their own antics. I smile back, ready to remind them for the nth time that I’m not a medical doctor, but I think better of it and opt with a simple, “you’re welcome”. I turn to walk away, to check in with the rest of the team before I hear Y/N call to me. 

“Wait! Doctor Reid!” I turn to face them again, wondering if something else is wrong. Instead of wearing a concerned facial expression, Y/N wears a smirk. “You gonna kiss it better?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

thank you for reading! next up in order for my writing:

lip gallagher x fem!reader fake relationship

emily prentiss x fem!reader smut

chef luca x fem!reader smut

feel free to send me any messages with requests or if you'd like to join my taglists!!

#fanfic #writing #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer x reader #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #reid #bau #spencer reid fic #aj cook #dr spencer reid #derek morgan #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #criminal minds fanfic #badass #shy

[alovesongtheywrote]

holy fuckin shit girl nighmare academia 🤌🤌🤌

thank god for that person who asked for a pt.2, but I must ask for a pt.3 loll

♥ Summary:  here you go, 1000 words of reid scheming against the reader with the help of some familiar faces! [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: morgan and garcia being morgan and garcia, vague mentions of spencer wanting kids, threats of bodily harm at the very end

♥ A/N: yeah, ik the last one of these came out like. today. but im having a lot of fun, so until that stops. have fun with the enemies to lovers professor au

♥ Word Count: 1200

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

“Alright, my sweet brain boy, I’ve got the dirt on the Doctor- not you, the other Doctor.  You know what I mean.”

Spencer nodded- then he, in all of his genius, remembered that Penelope could not see him.

“What did you find?” he asked, pulling his legs up on his office chair.  He hadn’t left the university grounds after his fight with you and his call with Garcia.  You had left.  He was sure of it.  His office window gave him a great view of the parking lot, and hence, a great view of you leaving.  Reid, on the other hand, had stayed inside his office waiting for this second call.

“Well, it looks like you may have some competition in the doctorate department.  Doctor (L/N),” she stressed your title, “Also has three PhDs- one in criminology, one in law, and one in- get this- English Literature.  They’ve written a few really good articles, mostly on crime stuff, but also on Pride and Prejudice.  And oh, their takes on Elizabeth and Darcy- it’s enough to make a girl swoon.”

“Okay,” Spencer sighed.  None of this would help him get back at you- most of it was knowledge he could attain with a casual google search, “What else do you have for me?”

“Well, our dear Doctor is active in the community.  They help ex-cons get GEDs in their spare time, they donate to various charities and nonprofits, they support the local arts. They've got a lot of hobbies, they enjoy Halloween a lot- oh, and their mom is super proud of them.”

“What else, Garcia?”

“They have two cats, a couple siblings, a few nieces and nephews- it looks like they’re good with kids.”

“This isn’t relevant,” Spencer groaned, trying to hide his frustration.  He was looking for ways to get under your skin the way you had gotten under his.  He didn’t need to know every nice thing about you.

“Hey, you want kids, don’t you pretty boy?”  A deep voice that was very much not Garcia’s came over the line.

“Morgan is here, by the way,” at the very least, Penelope had the decency to sound a little embarrassed.

“I can hear that.  How long has he been listening?”

“Long enough to hear that you and this Mystery Professor would make a good match.  I mean, where else are you gonna find someone with three PhDs and a face like that?”

Spencer could hear Garcia’s gasp, even though she had pulled away from the phone.  When she spoke again, her voice was playful, “We’re looking for him, not for you.  What would Savannah say?  What should I say?”

“Easy baby girl, I’m just letting our boy know that I approve.”

“Hold on,” Spencer’s voice broke through the bickering of his former co-workers, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.  I am not interested in (Y/N) (L/N).”

“Oh?  Then whyfore the background check, boy genius?”

“Is something wrong, Reid?”

“No, no, it’s nothing- it’s not like they’re a threat to my safety or anyone’s safety.  They’re just…”

“Just what, kid?”

Spencer drew in a sharp breath, trying to keep his cool.  He had to be calm- collected.  He couldn’t let Derek and Penelope know that you were so deep under his skin, inside the tissue of his brain, that he couldn’t stop thinking about you.  He couldn’t keep his mind from running back to the image of your face, glaring at him as you took the typewriter from his hands.  They would get the wrong idea.  The entire wrong idea.  So, Spencer had to remain cool.

He immediately failed.

“They’re just really fucking annoying, okay!?”

“Damn, kid!  Okay!  What did they do, tell you that Doctor Who was just okay?”

“No, you don’t get it-” Spencer hissed, flopping further into his chair as he proceeded to rant about the entire typewriter thing.  He quoted you word for word, too- of course he did, eidetic memory.  Once he finished, Morgan and Garcia seemed to take on a new understanding of the situation.

“I see!  This wasn’t a love call, but one for information!!  A stockpile of knowledge for devious pranks- that is why you called, right?  You need info for getting back at the lovely Professor?”

“Yes-!  They aren’t lovely, but yes.”

“Kid, anyone who can make you write emails is lovely in Garcia’s book.”

“Listen to your local Morgan, Reid- now, do you have a revenge plot already?”

“Sort of?”  Spencer shared his plans with Garcia, smiling to himself at the sound of her laugh.  His brand of humor didn’t usually get that reaction. 

“Sounds perfect, Reid- I can help with that, but I’m gonna need a secure connection, Dr. (L/N)’s email address, and everything you know about the benefits of handwritten notes.”

Once the plan was fully fleshed out, Spencer hung up the phone and finally, finally made his way out of his office with a rare spring in his step.  His plan was set.  The trap was in place.  Your beloved technology would be your downfall.  As he stepped onto the Metro, he had to keep from cackling like an overdramatic villain.  He was at a high point, and he really didn’t want to be arrested for causing a disturbance.  

Meanwhile, back at Quantico, Morgan and Garica looked at each other, the now silent phone placed between them.

“So, those two are-”

“They are perfect for each other, yes.”

“We’ve gotta help him.”

“Absolutely.  Hey, once they get together, do you think he’ll introduce me?  I want to talk to Dr. (L/N) about their Pride and Prejudice hot takes.”

“Careful, Garcia.  We’re shopping for him, not for you.”

“Hey, I just appreciate a person who can see the true nuances in one Fitzwilliam Darcy!  And I wanna know which film adaptation is their favourite.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Rossi’s voice came from the door of Garcia’s office, “The rest of us have been ready to go for fifteen minutes.  What’s the hold up?”

“Nothing, Rossi.”

“We just found a perfect match for one Spencer Reid.”

“Really?  Interesting.  Tell me more later.  Let’s go.”

-

Two days later, you opened your PowerPoint slides only to find a presentation about the benefits of handwritten notes.  Everything you had in place for that day was gone.  All that was in its place was a genuinely well-crafted presentation about how writing notes by hand was better for attention retention and memorization.  

Honestly, you couldn’t even get that mad.  It was a good presentation.  

Still, you had a reputation to maintain.

You bit your lip and crossed your arms, becoming the picture of barely contained rage.  You took a deep breath, turning to your students and slapping a strained smile across your lips.

“Forgive me, my lovely students, but given this sudden turn of events, I’m just going to cancel class for today.  The correct notes will be on the class website later.”

You made your way to the door, leaving all your belongings behind in your haste, “Enjoy your afternoons, I’m going to go stab Dr. Spencer Reid.  In the throat.  Have a good day!”

A few students gave quiet, confused farewells.  Others leaned over to each other and whispered, “Stabbing is a sex thing, right?”

Technically, they were correct.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #nightmare academia

[lechemoon]

the one where you learn the acronym R.I.C.E.

spencer reid x f reader

wc: ~1.5k

mentions of/warnings: swollen ankles, falling, small mentions of pain, spencer thinking he's a doctor that's medically trained kinda, just something silly

a/n: still doing a slow slow sloooow rewatch <3 im well into season 6 currently. hope you guys like this one!

-

“please don’t touch it, reid,” you whine from your place on the floor.

you’ve got both legs splayed out, and your palms are flat on the ground to keep yourself sitting up right. but any slight movement in the area of your right ankle tells your brain i’m hurting! don’t move! i’m hurting! don’t move! i’m hurting! don’t move!

thankfully you land on, though rough and scratchy, carpet instead of something like a hardwood floor. and thankfully you have an audience of three- aaron hotchner, spencer reid, and emily prentiss- to help you through the difficult time.

the difficult time of you misstepping and twisting your ankle on the last step of the stairs to get from hotch’s office upstairs to your cubicle downstairs.

“you know, i’m a doctor so technically speaking i can examine you and come up with a diagnosis. a-and it looks to me like,” spencer stops his ranting a few seconds to pretend like he’s examining your ankle through your pant leg and socks, “like you’ve rolled your ankle. i can help with that!”

“but are you a medical doctor?” you balk, wearing a worried expression on your face and knitting your brows together. you look to your ankle, then to spencer’s eyes, back to your ankle, then back to spencer.

your co-worker is many things. he’s smart, a magician, handsome. he has three PhDs. but you know he is definitely not an actual doctor in the medical field. 

from your side, you hear disapproval from both hotch and emily. “spencer, i don’t think you should be touching her ankle,” emily chides in, sucking in her teeth for added scold. “i mean, we can hold her up and-“

“reid! ow!” you hiss, bending your left leg all the way and slightly bending your right. “she just said to not touch it!” you bend forward as much as your body will allow, and begin swatting his hands away. “do not!”

he respects your wishes in that moment, leaning back on the heels of his feet to keep him supported. he’s sporting that look that he gets when he’s trying to recall something, and then you see a twinkle in his eye. “rice!”

while you and emily both raise a brow and look at each other in confusion, hotch nods. “rest, ice, compression, elevate. rice. nice one, reid.” hotch gestures to emily to follow him as he makes his way to the kitchenette.

“prentiss, go find some bandages in any of our first aid kits. we’ll need to wrap it up,” he waits for emily’s nod of approval before continuing. “i’ll go get some ice. and reid-“

“on it,” spencer says almost automatically- like how he says it when hotch tells him to come up with a geographical profile. 

spencer takes a knee in front of you once again again, and begins to reach for your ankle when you stop him with a, “ill step on your tie if you move any closer.”

he smirks at you and tucks the end of his tie into his shirt pocket. “you’re right,” he says like you just asked him a yes or no question instead of threatening to sully his clothes. “i can’t elevate without something…”

he stands up and looks around. you start thinking how odd it would be to just keep pillows around the office. you then start thinking that there probably isn’t anything to put your feet up with that isn’t uncomfortable.

you gaze up when spencer asks, “can you stand okay and take a few steps to your chair?” 

“uh,” you bend your left leg a little more, enough so that your feet lay flat against the floor. “yeah,” your hand hovers above your head. “i just need… help? please?”

he grabs your hand with his and places it on his shoulder, maneuvering your bodies so that his arm is behind you and his hand holds you just above your waist to keep you steady. “good to go?” he asks, looking down at you.

you take this time to look up at him again to nod. “thanks, spencer,” you say, squeezing his shoulder in gratitude.

and whether he means to do it or not, the hand holding you up squeezes in response. you freeze for a second in surprise, and you feel your face warm up. you know he feels you do so, because he clears his throat. “sorry. re… reflex?” he tells you with a sheepish grin on his face, and he slowly starts his tread to your desk.

“i believe you,” you hold back a laugh but can’t bite back your own grin. “thanks for helping me up.”

he sets you on your chair and you watch him dust himself off by way of habit. “it’s not a problem,” this time, he smiles genuinely. as if he’s always happy to help you. and of course he is- he loves helping others in need.

he holds up his index finger at you for you to stay put. “stay right there,” he says, knowing you actually can’t move anywhere right now due to your increasingly swollen ankle. where’s that ice hotch promised? 

you hoist your right knee up the best you can to examine your ankle- though it’s hard to do so since you can’t see the damage. as carefully as you can manage, you slip off your shoe. you bite your lips to hold back a wince that was attempting to escape, and you exhale with relief when the shoe part is over.

even under your sock, you can tell your ankle is bad. “looks like the world's biggest bee got to you,” you hear spencer comment, his voice accompanied by the sound of the squeaky wheels of the rolling chair he drags towards you.

“i wish,” you scoff. you’re now attempting to stretch your socks by the band to make as little contact with the injured area as possible. “maybe i could walk better with a bee sting.” when your sock is finally over your ankle, you slide the rest off quickly.

spencer takes this time to sit directly across from you while you work on the final act: rolling up your pant leg. “almost done, doctor?” he teases, recalling earlier when you alluded to him not being a medical doctor.

“just a little more over my calf, doctor,” you say, sticking your tongue out of the corner of your mouth in concentration while you make a fake pleat and fold over it to keep the pant up. you take a beat to look at your handy work before deciding it’ll stay up. “and we’re done.”

“excellent,” he says and gets up from the chair. he kneels down again, and you think you like the look of an over-attentive spencer reid. it suits him well somehow.

before making the move to touch you once again, both his hands gesture to your ankle. “may i?” he asks, and you nod.

“you may,” and you add in quickly right before his skin connects with yours, “but please be gentle! it really does hurt.”

“don’t worry,” he gives you a reassuring look, “i’m always gentle.”

before you can comment (and before anything can be made inappropriate), he verbally back tracks. “a magician’s got to be.” you can see his ears turn red. “it’s a saying. a magician needs gentle hands.”

no it’s not.

not that you know magic or any magicians personally, but that sounds too silly to be a common saying. 

he takes your ankle in both hands, gently like he promised, but you still wince. you brace yourself by gripping the seat of your chair. “ow ow ow-“

“i know, i know, i know,” he says in the same cadence, biting his lip as he carefully sets your foot on the chair across from you. and it’s still slightly warm from where he sat before. you notice that it’s his jacket hanging on the back of the chair. he’s given you the best seat in the house.“sorry about that,” he turns to frown at you. “one more thing and we’re done elevating.”

he stays on one knee and pumps the seats lever up three times so that your ankle is truly elevated. he looks up to you again, adjusting his still-kneeling body to turn completely towards you, “does it feel elevated?”

“pretty elevated to me- your seats definitely not as hard as our floors,” you approve, giving reid the thumbs up. 

he claps his hand together, “great! now we should talk about office safety when everyone is here,” he suggests playfully, patting the knee on your good leg. “you can be our example,” he finished off, squeezing your knee, but not exactly making any movements to signal he was going to get his hand off you any time soon.

not that you minded one bit.

“i can do that.” you purse your lips together and look around. “where’s the rest of our rice team?”

“o-oh, the ice and compression,” his hand leaves your knee and he stands up for a better view of the office. your knee feels chilly, and you blame it on the warm palm that spencer reid has.

“i, uh,” he looks towards the kitchenette. “i’ll go look for them,” and he walks towards it.

but he spins around to walk back to you to give you one more warning. “don’t move,” he says. and then, he points a finger at you while walking away, “doctor’s orders!”

-

a/n: hope you enjoyed! if you feel compelled to, let me know which spencer reid you thought of while reading :)

#criminal minds #my fic #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #mgg #spencer reid x you #matthew gray gubler

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Why We Do What We Do

Season One Episode Three

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 3672

Series Masterlist

Summary: Nearly four months go by and the reader still hasn’t told Spencer about her past. Spence starts to wonder if ‘taking it slow’ is what has made you seem distant. 

Notes: No, I don’t know the process for getting a doctorate or the official terminology, so I’m sorry. 

Warnings: Death, trauma, mentions of abuse, mentions of sexual content

-

Cases came and went while the school year ticked on. Your PhDs were nearly complete and your main instructor expected you to graduate in May. Spencer was more excited for you than you’d ever seen him. He helped you through late night writing sessions, cramming research, and even offered to help you grade papers for your courses at one of the local community colleges. But your favorite was times like this. 

Spencer’s voice soothed you as he read from one of your shared favorite authors. While he had already gone through your bookshelf three times over, he was still introducing you to some of his personal favorites. You laid with your head on his shoulder and tried not to fall asleep. He’d been gone a case for the past few days and you wanted to cherish the time you had with him, not spend it napping on your couch. 

“I can stop if you want,” he said, smirking at your sleepiness. 

“No, keep going. I’m…” . Betrayed by a yawn. 

He just laughed and kissed the top of your head. “Okay, I think that’s enough for tonight.” He looked down at your pouting lips and brought them up to his. Your complaints silenced themselves with a content sigh against the kiss. You sat up. Spencer’s hands found your waist and pulled you closer. 

Tell him.

The voice in your head ruined the moment. 

You pushed away. Damnit. 

“Did I do something?” Spencer asked. The sweet, worried tone in his voice making the guilty feeling in your chest ache even more. 

Just tell him. 

“I’m just tired.” You ran your fingers through your hair and sat back against the couch. “I think I should probably get going. We both have work tomorrow.” 

“Let me give you a ride home.” 

“You really don’t have to do that.” 

“Please?” He traced his finger down your arm. “You shouldn’t drive when you’re this tired. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” 

You knew if you tried to argue, he’d give you a line of statistics about sleep deprivation and car accidents so you just nodded. He tried to hide the hurt and confusion plaguing his thoughts, but you could see right through. He thought this was his fault. That he was doing something wrong. 

You wanted more. Having been together over six months, you wanted more than anything to take the next step in your relationship. Every time his fingers grazed your skin or lips connected with yours, you knew how much you wanted him. 

But something was holding you back. Maybe it was the scar on your chest or maybe it was the memories that came with it. Hell, maybe some of it was the idea of opening up to someone in that way again. Even the thought of your past relationship made you shudder. 

“Are you cold?” Spence asked. He unbuttoned his sweater and put it around your shoulders. His hands brushing against your arms made you shiver in a different way. 

You swallowed. “Thanks.” 

Spencer held the car door for you. As you started to climb in, you paused. 

“Do you ever wish that you could change yourself?” 

His eyebrows drew together, forming the little wrinkle over his nose he got when he was thinking. “What do you mean?” 

You looked into his soft eyes and sighed, giving him a somewhat convincing smile. “Nevermind.” 

You climbed into the car and said nothing else. 

-

He was doing something wrong. Or there was just something wrong with him. Either way, it made his mind trip over itself searching for solutions. But Spencer had never been great with women. He didn’t even know where to begin. And he certainly wasn’t going to ask Morgan for this kind of advice. But he did have one friend he could trust with something like this. 

His knuckles rapped gently against the doorframe. The friendly blonde looked up from her mountain of paperwork and smiled. 

“Hey, Spence.” 

“Do you have a minute?” His tone held the nervousness that he couldn’t hide and also hinted at the embarrassment coloring his cheeks. He closed her door behind him. 

JJ put the file she was looking at aside. “Sure. What’s up?” 

Reid took a seat across from her and fidgeted with the sleeves of his shirt. Maybe this was a bad idea. 

“I need your advice about something.” 

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “Okay.” 

“About… women.” 

JJ’s mouth fell open. “Oh.” 

“I just,” he took a deep breath, “I’m not really good at this kind of thing.” 

“Is it about the one Morgan and Prentiss have been teasing you about?” 

He gulped and nodded. 

“I’m worried that she’s pushing away because…” He trailed off. 

“Because of what?” She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her desk. 

“Because we haven’t…” Reid cleared his throat. “We haven’t, you know.” Her eyes widened with understanding. “We’ve been seeing each other for six months now. That’s not normal, right?” 

“Well,” she took a deep breath. This was definitely not where she thought this conversation was going. “It really depends on the couple. Some people- um- connect intimately on the first date. Others wait until marriage. I don’t think it necessarily means something is wrong.” 

“But what if there is something wrong? Think about it. I haven’t been with anyone since Lila. What if me being, well, me has ruined it?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “I highly doubt that.” She leaned back in her chair and tried to keep her tone as even as possible so she didn’t sound as uncomfortable as she felt. Of course, she loved Reid and wanted to help her friend, but this wasn’t a subject they’d ever addressed before. She spoke slowly and carefully. “Do you want to… connect intimately with her.” 

“Of course I do.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “She’s amazing. I mean, she’s smart and-and she makes me laugh. I can talk to her for hours and not get bored and when I’m with her I get this feeling in my whole body that-”

“Alright, Romeo, slow down,” she said. 

“But that’s the problem. What if I’ve taken things so slow that she doesn’t want to have sex because she wants to break things off?” His voice jumped to an embarrassingly high octave. JJ grimaced. 

“Okay,” she sighed. She moved around to the front of her desk so that she could put a hand on his shoulder. “Spence, sweetie, the only way you’re going to be able to figure this out is if you talk to her.” 

He pursed his lips. “But what if I mess everything up and she does want to end things?” 

“Then it will be her loss.” JJ gave him a reassuring smile. She reached her hand up and ruffled his hair. “This girl must be pretty special to have you this worked up.” 

Spencer’s demeanor changed and his lips spread into a sheepish smile. “I’ve never felt this way before.” He stood and gave her a hug. “Thanks JJ.” 

“Hey,” she laughed, “if I’m going to be giving you advice on your sex life, do I at least get to know who the lucky lady is?” 

He pulled away and clicked his tongue. “I don’t know. I’m sworn to secrecy.” 

“Come on, Spence,” she begged. “The mystery has been killing me for months.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “Promise you won’t tell anybody?” 

She made the motion of zipping her lips. He grinned. 

“Her name is Y/N.” 

-

You stabbed at your pasta, feeling your fork pierce through the tomato coated carbohydrate. Popping that bite into your mouth, you jabbed at another. 

“What did those ravioli do to you?” Aaron snickered. 

You set your fork down with a huff. Your brother’s expression softened. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. “Is this about Hardwick?” 

A little over a week ago, Aaron and Spencer went to an interview at the request of a serial killer. Aaron allowed the guards to remove the prisoner’s restraints for the interview and things got a little hairy. The killer, Chester Hardwick, had planned to use the interview to delay his execution. He figured if he killed two FBI agents, he’d have more time. If it wasn’t for Spencer’s quick thinking… you didn’t like to think what could have happened. 

But that wasn’t what was bothering you now, and with just a few seconds of observing, he could tell. You didn’t have to say anything. You just looked up at him and he knew. 

“You still haven’t told him, have you?” 

“I don’t know how!” You exclaimed. “I’ve tried, but every time I feel like I’m choking all over again and I can’t breathe and-” Just thinking about it made your breathing ragged. 

“Okay, hey, slow down.” He put a hand on your arm and waited for you to take a deep breath.

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” He let you take a few more breaths before continuing. “Is he making you uncomfortable?” 

“No, Spencer is great. He’s sweet and patient- by far the nicest guy I’ve ever been with.” Your hand moved to your chest, tracing the line of the scar there. 

Aaron nodded. “You’re afraid of becoming a case to him.” 

You froze. He watched you intently with a look in his eyes that could only be described as the paternal desire to protect. You knew this look well after the past few years. 

“I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?”

You scoffed. “Figure things out about myself before I do.” You both laughed, which helped you relax a little. 

“You won’t be ‘just another case,’ Y/N,” he sighed. “I know that Reid has a tendency to talk in a code of facts and data, but it’s because when he cares about something,” Aaron motioned towards you, “he puts his mind and heart into it. You’ve already taken over both.”

You were speechless. All you could do was sit there, internalizing every syllable. 

Aaron shrugged. “Or I could be making that up. We just work together.” He chuckled as you smacked his arm. 

“I know you better than that, Hotch,” you said and gave him an understanding smirk. “You care more about that team than any of them will ever know.” 

He looked down at the table, but you could still see him smiling. 

-

The door seemed to laugh at him. It mocked him with its silence. Of course, he could call you to see if you were on your way, but he couldn’t move from his spot on the couch. 

“Alright Spencer,” he mumbled. “She’s your girlfriend. She isn’t a murderer. She’s just a woman that you are dating. What would Morgan do?” He covered his face with his hands. “Wait, no. Don’t do that. Definitely don’t do that.” 

The knock had him crossing his living room so quickly he almost fell on his face. There you were, with your arms wrapped around yourself, waiting for him.

“Hi,” he greeted. His heart was pounding so hard he was afraid it would burst. Even though he knew that wouldn't happen. 

“I take it you got my message.” 

“Y-yeah, you said you wanted me to finish the chapter from last night?” His voice was shaking from nerves. He felt so stupid. 

You inhaled deeply. “Can I have a hug first?” 

His stomach dropped. Oh god. You were breaking up with him. 

“Sure.” The word came out like he was a goddamn mouse. 

He pulled you into his arms and closed the door behind you with one quick motion. You pressed your head against his chest and your hands locked together behind his back. He rested  his chin on your head and thanked his eidetic memory. Even though you were ending things, he would never forget how it felt to hold you. 

You bit your lip, trying to keep yourself together. You could do this. You could tell him. 

Remember what he did when you told him. 

Why did Aaron have to be right? Now you were realizing all of the dark, hidden reasons your subconscious was generating. 

You weren’t a study or a research subject. You weren’t a case. 

You were simply his. 

“Ready?” You coughed to cover the crack in your voice. 

Spence just smiled sadly and nodded. You both went over to his couch. Instead of cuddling up beside him like you usually did, you sat against the opposite arm, leaning against it for support. Spencer picked up the book but didn’t open it. 

And you both. 

Just. 

Sat.

There. 

Agitated and afraid, your knee started to shake. His hands toyed with the tassel of the bookmark. You turned to face each other. 

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“I need to talk to you about something.” 

Your words tangled together, speaking at the same time, but you knew you said the same thing. 

“You go first,” he said. 

You shook your head. “Mine isn’t an act you want to follow.” With some effort, you gave him a half smile. 

Spencer swallowed hard. You realized for the first time that he looked as scared as you were. 

“Why don’t we play chess?” You suggested. “It’ll give us something to do with our hands- and our minds- while we talk.” 

He nodded in agreement and got up from the couch to get his board. You helped him set up the pieces. He let you make the first move. 

“Are you breaking up with me?” 

The surprise caught in your throat. You nearly knocked over your piece. Your eyes went wide and your brows drew together.

“What?” 

“I’ve noticed that you’ve been distancing yourself for a while and when you came in here, you had your arms wrapped around yourself like you were holding something back. I know that I am not exactly a conventional boyfriend. I’m never around. I’ve taken everything very slowly, but that’s only because I don’t want to do anything you don’t but I don’t know how to ask you because sometimes I don’t know how to talk to women and unfortunately that includes you-”

“Spencer.” You held up your hands, staring at him from across the board. “Do you think…” You sighed. “Do you think this is because we haven’t slept together?” 

He moved a pawn. “Isn’t it?” 

You laughed. Really laughed. The feeling rattled through your tense form. You reached over the board and took his face in your hands. 

“I love you.” You leaned across, careful to not to bump the pieces, and kissed him. 

Spencer couldn’t stop the electricity in his chest. His heart beat faster, but this time it was a welcome feeling. You said you loved him. 

“I love you too,” he breathed against your lips. He started to move the board out of the way, deepening the kiss with his hand on the back of your head. 

“Wait wait wait,” you said, putting your hands on his chest. “I still need to talk to you about something.” 

“Okay,” he muttered, his forehead still pressed against yours. 

You took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Your fingers went from his chest to yours, unbuttoning your shirt. His eyes widened. It took him a moment to process you sitting there in front of him in just your bra before he saw what you were motioning towards. Just below your collarbone was a thin white scar. 

“What is it from?” 

“Hockey skate,” you said. It should have been a memory you looked back on fondly. Now, it was a physical marker of what followed. “I started seeing a guy on the hockey team during the summer before my freshman year. Colby. My best friend Tabby Cunningham and I went to all of his games. After one, we were all kind of messing around and Colby had his skates slung over his shoulder.” You traced the mark with your fingers. “I had to get stitches. I was so upset because you could see them under the dress I got for my birthday party. I was turning fifteen.” 

“Have you… looked Y/N up yet?” Hotch’s words echoed in his head. “There’s just some things I think she’d rather tell you herself.”

She didn’t meet Hotch until she was fifteen. 

It was her birthday.

She went by her mother’s last name. 

Y/L/N. 

Of course. 

As his mind connected the pieces, he remained silent. This was something that needed to come from you. 

“My mom planned this big party, but there was one rule. No boys. She said I was becoming a woman so I should celebrate with my girl friends.” You moved another piece. “I didn’t think anything of it.”

Spencer braced himself. He knew what came next. 

“She made this big, ridiculous cake that we all couldn’t wait to dig into.” That awful choking feeling clenched at your throat. You didn’t realize you were crying until a tear landed on the chess board. “I remember the shaking and my muscles feeling like they were trying to tear out of my body. I don’t remember anything after that. Not until I woke up.” 

You tried to continue, but the words wouldn’t come. Spencer put a hand on yours. 

“Strychnine,” he whispered. 

You nodded. “They said she put it in the frosting.” You used your sleeve to dab at the moisture on your face. “During the trial, they said that she just stood there. My mother stood there while seven highschool girls choked on their life.” The anger in your voice wasn’t only for her. It mixed with the guilt you’d carried with you. “I was the only survivor.” 

You expected the sobs to take over, but they didn’t. After all these years, after all the therapy and the years of studying, you just felt numb. 

“The press called it ‘The Birthday Cake Killings,’” you scoffed. “Such a stupid name.” Your hands shook as you reached for your knight. 

“Here,” Spence said, starting to put the board aside again. You shook your head. 

“No, I want to finish the game.” It helped you focus on something that wasn’t the sympathy in his eyes. If you looked at his face, you were afraid you’d lose it. 

He nodded. “Okay.” Spencer looked over the board, his brain calculating a strategy. He chose the opposite. 

You moved your knight and took his bishop. “That’s how Aaron found out about me. He heard about the case and heard about my mother. He interviewed her and she told him she did it because of my dad. Because he used to beat her before he went back to his family. Back to him.”

“That wasn’t in the report,” he noted. 

“Aaron didn’t put it in. I think he felt that I didn’t need to be put through even more. It’s why he never talked to me about you before. He always thought telling me about his job would bring it all back.” You paused for a moment. You could still remember the first time you met. God, you were so scared of him. “My uncle became my legal guardian, but he was a truck driver and never around, so Aaron kind of took me in after that. He helped pay for my medical bills and years of therapy. He’s always kind of been like the dad I never got.” 

Spencer knew the feeling. He moved his queen to take your knight, leaving him vulnerable to your tower. 

“They all just said that she snapped. That the stress of her past had finally caught up with her.” You shook your head. “I’ve spent the past nine years proving them wrong. Learning how to understand her.” You took his queen. “When she saw what Colby’s skate did, something about it took her back to what Aaron and I’s dad did to her. She didn’t see it as an accident. Somewhere in her mind, it twisted her desire to protect me.” 

He moved his king out of check. 

You stared at the piece and slid your own into place. “She really believed she was saving us.” 

He repositioned his king again, but knew it was in vain. You finally looked up at him. 

“Checkmate.” 

You stared at each other for a moment. He took in everything you said while you worked through it in your head. He set the board on the table and you didn’t stop him. You fell forward, laying in his arms as the two of you sat in heavy silence. Spencer ran his hand over your back so slowly it almost made you fall asleep. But his fingers against your bare skin made you feel too awake to rest now. 

“I meant it,” you said into his button-up. You sat up so you could look into his eyes. “I love you, Spencer. You’re the first person to ever make me feel… whole.” 

The corner of his lips tilted into a smile. 

“I’ve been so afraid that I’m not enough for you,” he admitted. “Because you deserve everything you could ever possibly want.” He beamed, tears forming in his eyes. “But you make me feel like I’m enough.” Spencer placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your lips. “I meant it too.” 

When you kissed now, everything was different. The weight on your chest was gone and you felt like you could finally breathe. You moved so your legs were on either side of his waist while his hands traveled up and down your back, catching on the back of your bra. God, his hands. This kiss was wanting, needing, and hungry. 

Spencer stood up, bringing you with him in his arms, making you squeal. He laughed, never separating his lips from yours. You clung to him, fingers deeply entangled with his hair. He kicked open the door to his bedroom. 

This was definitely worth six months.

-

As you laid with your bodies so close it was difficult to tell where he began and you ended, you came to a sudden realization. You looked up at Spencer from your place on his chest and glowered. 

“You let me win, didn’t you?”

He lifted his head. “... no.” 

Your jaw dropped and you let out a frustrated laugh. “You cocky little-” He silenced you with a kiss and the two of you started all over again. 

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216; @yellowbubblewrap

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt;  hereforsmutbcicantgetenough;  violetbossler;  hyper-half-blood

On to episode Four->

#dr. spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner family #matthew gray gubler #the in betweens

[torturedheart]

Event starter between Spencer and Kono ( @devilsmenu )

Prompt 14: Monster- Vampire

Another dead end sends the genius back the way he came, he certainly can’t keep up with what path he’s already taken when everything looks the same. A noise in the far distance has him slowing his pace further until he comes to a full stop, a sigh falling from his lips. “I just want to get out of here.” He mutters, eyes scanning the end of the pathway that he could see. “Huh, that’s really cool…nope, not fake-that’s real.” He takes off in a run, muttering under his breath.

#i just keep getting phds: spencer reid #Muse: Spencer Reid #hwevent16 #Spencer || Kono

[reiderwriter]

For some reason my comments don't come through on your posts, but I want to first say I absolutely love your writing and I'm so happy your requests are open!! 🥰😭 So I've had this idea of a fluff mixed with spencer angst where reader is maybe interning at Diana's facility (not a dr yet, studying) and becomes close with Diana by reading, chatting, etc and Spencer over hears it from time to time and the dialogue between spencer and reader gets too close for Spencers comfort, but Diana wants her around more. Thank you again for your hard work okay bye!

A/N: I've never written a fic with Diana in it before, so this was a bit of a challenge for me, bit I enjoyed writing it a lot! Hopefully, this is somewhat like what you wanted!! ❤️

Warnings: Spencer is a bit dense (real) and puts his foot in his mouth (metaphorically, of course).

Diana Reid's son was exactly the way she described him, down to the tiny curls at the base of his neck and the glimmer of intelligence in his eye. 

After four weeks interning at the care facility while working on your medical degree, you'd spent a considerable amount of time with your favorite patient, and her stories about her son were legendary. 

At first, you weren't sure whether to believe the woman when she said her son was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs, and a job in the FBI. She wouldn't be the first schizophrenic patient to muddle up her facts, but she certainly was the sweetest. 

So when you recalled your conversation with the head nurse later that day, she laughed and confirmed every story about Doctor Spencer Reid. Your mouth hung open in shock because surely nobody that incredible could just be out walking the streets. 

Another month of conversations about the man, and you were half in love with him. He wrote his mother letters every day - hand wrote them, even - and she's shown you a few. He'd talked about his friends, his team, his jobs, and how he was saving lives. And when one of the latest ones dropped in the news that he'd be free for a visit soon, you found yourself overflowing with anticipation. 

Of course, you felt like you already knew the man. You knew what his first words were, what his favorite toy was growing up, and even about the exploits of his first date, as pitiful as it was. What you didn't know was if Diana was passing along similar information about you. 

The day Spencer Reid finally showed up, he took your breath away. You were mostly in awe of Diana's ability to describe her son perfectly, though you'd grown fond of her perfectly professional English Lecturer tone of speaking over the last few weeks. She was practically lyrical when talking her son into existence. 

“His hair curls beautifully. He's my little adonis. He keeps it too long though, I'm always telling him he needs to cut it because it hides too much of his face,” she'd told you one day before picking her book up and ignoring you for the next half hour. 

“My Spencer is delightfully tall. He's a little bit spindly like a spider. He's not the most grateful, that's for sure, we used to call him crash because he was always bumping into things. Poetic, right?” 

You knew from the second he walked through the door that this man was him. 

Tall, slightly hunched, clutching his satchel strap in his hand, terrifyingly handsome and making your hand jump into your throat. Definitely him, and definitely a problem. You'd have to check the code of conduct about falling hopelessly for a patient's beautiful son. 

If you had any doubts, this was Spencer in front of you though, when he bumped into a chair just as he was about to reach his mother, it was confirmed. 

“Diana, I believe your Crash is here,” you smiled and giggled, watching her turn quickly to greet her son. 

You, too, gave him a warm smile, but he seemed a little hesitant to return it, instead greeting his mother softly and sitting with her while you retreated slightly to give them some privacy. 

You hovered in the space, as Diana had been talking about introducing the two of you all week, and you didn't want to distress her if she couldn't find you close by. 

But though Spencer was closely attentive and soft with his mother, he took brief pauses to stare almost frustratedly at you. You weren't sure what it was, but something about you was setting Spencer on edge, and that in itself was unsettling you as well. 

“Oh, Spencer, you must meet our Y/N. Y/N, come here, this is my son, Spencer.”

Slightly more apprehensive now, you held out your hand to shake his, “I've heard so much about you  it's nice to finally be seeing you in person, Doctor Reid.” 

He didn't shake your hand, though, but awkwardly waved it off quickly, leaving you to awkwardly replace it by your side. 

“Nice to meet you. Are you a new attendant? I asked all updates about my mother's companions to be confirmed and passed on to me, patient and carers included.” 

His tone was business-like and clipped, and you could see a gentle annoyance settling on his features. 

“I'm sorry, Doctor Reid, I thought Diana would have told you in a letter, or the administration would've passed it on. I'm a medical student on an internship.” You felt like you'd been chastised by an irate parent though he'd at no point raised his voice or indicated in his words any sense of anger at all. His eyes burned across your skin, though, and you felt a flame heat your skin under the weight of his stare. 

“You're mother has told me a lot about you though, she reads me your letters sometimes, between our discussions of Marjorie Kempe.” 

“My letters? Mom, we've talked about this. Those are private.” You looked at the quiet disappointment on Diana's face and felt protective over the woman all of a sudden.

“Please, I'm sorry for overstepping, but your mother is just very proud of you. She talks about you a lot actually, and your job-” 

“With all due respect, Y/N, the last time my mother talked to a new friend about me, he traveled to Virginia and shot one of my friends, so this really is a conversation I'd rather not be having.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as he turned back to his mother and started talking to her gently again about personal security, effectively dismissing you from the conversation. 

You'd had stupid hopes for Spencer Reid, and that's all they would ever be. 

Reid talked on, and you left him alone with his mother, though she seemed distracted by your departure. 

“Spencer, that wasn't nice. Look at that poor girl. She's close to tears.”

“What? Mom, are you even listening to me?” 

“No, and I likely won't until you go and apologize to Y/N. She's a pretty girl, Spencer, and she was very excited to meet you.” 

“Pretty…. Mom, please.” 

“What, do you disagree? You think I don't know you well enough to know when a girl would suit you well? Or do you think I'm blind to the fact that you were stealing glances at her before she introduced herself.” 

Spencer went quiet at having been caught, and he hated to accept that maybe his mother was right. 

It was true as well that the care facility had informed him of medical interns coming and going in the next few months, and really, she wasn't to blame for his mother being fond of him. 

He was glad, though, that neither of them had noticed the ten minutes he'd spent just outside the large sitting area watching them talk. He'd been obviously taken aback to see someone new so close to his mom and his mom similarly comfortable. He felt even worse for the fact that for a solid minute and a half, he'd stared at the girl with no other thought in his head than the sound of his heart skipping a questioning beat. 

He'd pulled himself out of it eventually, but only when another nurse had come along to ask him if he'd actually be visiting his mother today or just dropping in to check on her. 

And then he'd bumped into that infernal chair when he was so fixated on getting to them, and she'd opened her mouth and called him crash, and his heart had sank. 

He reminded himself it was neither of their faults and inwardly cursed himself for being so unfriendly with someone who'd taken such good care of his mother recently. 

He promised himself that he'd talk with his mom and then go and find the woman, and apologising for being such a brute. 

“Spencer, are you listening to me, or are you busy daydreaming about my nurse?” 

“Mom!” 

“You're plain as day, kiddo, you'll never get anything past me. Now please, leave me be, I'm reading. Come back later if you must, but for now, take this to Y/N for me, please. She left it with me to read this morning, but I'm not in the mood for Medieval Romance right now.” 

It was a blatant lie, but a dismissal nonetheless, and Spencer quietly took his chance to search for you in the halls. 

The head nurse humorously pointed him in the right direction without him asking, much to his annoyance, but he persisted and lightly tapped on your shoulder to greet you. 

“Oh, Doctor Reid, hello again.” You smiled a little smaller this time, still polite, but he watched the way it didn't reach your eyes and felt like a jackass all over again. 

“My mom told me to come return this book to you.” He held out the book, and you quietly took it, folding it into your arms and hugging it tightly against your chest as you both stood there silently after the exchange. 

“I'm sorry, as well. I wasn't exactly very friendly back there, because-” 

“It's okay, Doctor Reid, you really don't have to explain. I overstepped, it's my fault and it won't happen again.”

“Are you kidding? My mom hasn't looked that relaxed in years. Please keep overstepping.” 

Your smile widened slightly at the compliment, and Spencer's tongue kicked into hyper drive immediately at the sight, even as his brain powered off. 

“You're pretty,” he blurted out, stopping only as his brain caught up with his tongue before firing off again. “My mom said you're pretty. I agree as well, though, you have a nice smile, and it's better when you don't force it. Not that I'm telling you how to smile, though. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but my mom made me come over here and talk to you, even though I'm pretty sure that's her book and not one you loaned her.” 

He took a moment to catch his breath as you blinked at him in confusion, heart beating rapidly even as you heard the blood rushing through your ears. 

“If you're free now, would you want to grab a coffee? Unless you have a boyfriend. Or husband. Or girlfriend or wife, I guess, I don't mean to presume. But if you're free, as in time, and free as in, like, relationship wise, I'd like to buy you a coffee to thank you for listening to my mom.” 

He finally stopped, and you stared wondrously at the reddened skin of his cheeks as he held his breath, waiting for your reply. 

“You want to take me out for coffee to thank me?” 

“Yes.” 

“And on a separate note, I'm pretty, and you want to know if I'm in a relationship?” 

“I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me, I'll just see myself out. It was a stupid idea anyway-” 

“No, wait, Spencer! Let me… let me grab my coat. My lunch break is in half an hour, and I'm sure it'll be okay to take it early.” You held his arm for a second, stepping slightly too close for comfort before realising yourself and taking a tiny step back.

He stood and blinked in your direction, as though wondering seriously for a moment what your lunch break had to do with him. 

“Are you going to stand there staring at me, or are we going to go out?” 

“You're serious?” 

“I guess…. I guess I am.”

“And you're… you're single.” 

Your mouth went dry as his skin finally completed its transformation from vampiric to tomato red. You desperately hoped your own embarrassment wasn't equally as readable on your face. 

“Quite single. Medical students don't have that much time to date.”

“Neither do FBI agents.” 

“Perhaps a subject we could talk more about later?” 

“Definitely.” 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[mandarinmoons]

Maybe that's the reasoning for it from JJ - but yeah I don't get how we're supposed to buy them being bffs. I feel like Morgan, Garcia or Prentiss could easily take that spot before JJ. He does seem to make a damn fine dad though. I also need to say how sad it is that Reid isn't thought of as funny (or maybe he is and I'm too new here lol), but he makes these little quips that are hilarious. Like when he's got a headache and Derek asks how he is, he goes 'a lot better than that goat' - camera cuts to skinned goat's head

Ohh how I wish we were given more interactions w Spencer and Penelope. I said it in a previous post and I'll say it again, they're completely different but they also share a lot im common and compliment each other in that aspect. Plus Penelope is someone to never judge so she'd listen to Spencer's ramblings in a heartbeat (I would too).

Spencer can be so funny and it comes out more in the show as he gets more confident.

My fave moments that I can think of

1. Early on in the show Spencer is w Penelope and they're searching for info and Spencer goes

"What're you implying Reid?"

"That everyone is medicated."

"Did you just make a joke?"

2. Derek gets beaten up by a bad guy and Spencer goes "You should work out more."

"Oh you got jokes now?"

And Spencer just smiles and nods

3. Hotch: "There's lot of ways that sons defeat their fathers."

Spencer: "I just keep getting PhD's"

4. THE PRANK WAR OMG

I'm sorry if you haven't heard some of these but they'll be so worth it once you do 😂

#criminal minds #ket's asks

[imagines--galore]

||Mind Over Matter|| Part Four

Summary: Evelyn is Penelope Garcia’s protegé. She is a tech  wiz, and knows her way around any kind of security and just like her  mentor knows how to dig deep and get into the past of anyone and has a  knack for anything with a chip in it. Including potato chips. The one  thing she fails at is figuring out is the mind and how it works. Rated T  for blood and language.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Evelyn Richardson(OC)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure. Family. Some language, blood and violence in later installments.

Previously - Part One, Part Two, Part Three

A/N: And here is the second part of the previous chapter!

Continued from Previous Chapter.

Closing the lid of her laptop, and placing it on the table next to her Evelyn took off her glasses. She sighed as she rubbed her eyes. The red head had been staring at the screen for a very long time and whenever she did, her eyes would start to ache. On the bright side she could operate her laptop while walking and she had chosen to walk along the length of the small dining room, just to stretch her legs a little, while still working on trying to find a signal. When the black spots had vanished from her vision and she placed her glasses back in their place, her blurred vision was replaced by an unblurred version of a water bottle. The red head, smiled up at the doctor who was holding it out for her.

"Thanks." She muttered, gripping the bottle and taking a gulp. Gripping the water bottle in both hands she looked at her friend who was still standing next to her.

"No luck with the phone then?" He asked. Evelyn shook her head.

"No. He's using a disposable cell. Those bastards are tricky to nail." She grumbled, taking another sip of water, more from to do something then out of necessity. Reid knew she was frustrated at not being able to detect the phone signal. If there was one thing Evelyn hated it was being played by these monsters, as she called them. He placed a hand on her shoulder, noticing, not for the first time, just how large his hand was in contrast with her shoulder.

"We'll catch the guy." He reassured her. His friend only responded with a nod. Spencer waited a few more seconds before he leaned forward, his face serious. He had to lean quite further down because Evelyn only came up to his chest. He was a six at the very least while she was a five.

"Gideon has a plan but it'll be really difficult."

The red head frowned, gripping her water bottle.

"Whats the plan?"

He told her, blue eyes widening with every word behind her glasses. She bit down on her lower lip when Spencer had finished. She sighed, moving to pick up her laptop and hugging it to her chest.

"This is why I prefer technology over profiling. At least I can understand the mind of anything electric." She patted the top of the laptop. "Humans not so much."

Spencer gave a small smile. "Well the human mind is a very tricky thing. It all depends on how good you are at reading a person." He looked like he was about to delve further into the topic, but Evelyn held up her hand.

"Save the lecture Doctor Spencer Reid with the three PhDs." He rolled her eyes at the nickname she had for him. She had used it on several occasions whenever she wanted to get out of a conversation she would think were heading towards a lecture. Evelyn glanced in the direction of the living room, worrying her bottom lip again.

"Davenport is not going to like it." The red head muttered.

Spencer nodded in agreement while Hotch, who had entered the room just then voiced his agreement.

"Agreed. But there isn't any other way." He nodded towards the laptop. "Any luck with the trace?"

Evelyn shook her head. "No. He's using a disposable cell. Can't get a lockdown on it." Hotch nodded in understanding.

"Doesn't matter. Keep trying while we go with the plan." He said, before exiting the room. As soon as he was gone Morgan poked his head in.

"Come on kids!" He called, a slight teasing glint in his eye. "You can play later." Evelyn and Spencer rolled their eyes simultaneously at the joint nickname.

"Just because we're both the youngest." The red head, muttered under her breath as they walked back into the living room. Elle, who had heard the comment patted Evelyn's hand in a sympathetic gesture, her tanned skin a great contrast with Evelyn's paler skin.

                                              ————————–

The phone began to ring.

The B.A.U. Team glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes, but none of them made any movement or gave any indication for Davenport to pick up the phone. Davenport moved forward to answer but Gideon who had taken his place right behind Evelyn, his hand resting on her shoulder, stopped him.

"Hold on. Hold on. Hold on."

Davenport paused confused, glancing around nervously, as he did, hoping one of the Agents would explain what was going on. Neither of them looked at him. Gideon reached over Evelyn and flipped the switch declining the call.

"What are you doing?" Davenport asked, clearly astounded that Gideon would do something like that. Panic was setting in his tone, even Evelyn could see that and she wasn't even a profiler.

The phone started to ring again.

"Agent Gideon?" Davenport called out, worry lacing his voice.

There was a click as Gideon leaned forward and accepted the call.

"Hello?" He said, his voice low and polite.

"Tell me there was a technical issue with the line." The guy sounded pissed, which was exactly what they wanted according to the plan. "Because if you actually just hung up on m-" Evelyn quickly reached forward and ended the call.

"What the hell are you doing?" Davenport cried out, voice filled with outrage as he glared at the young bespectacled red head.

Almost immediately the phone started to ring.

"Are you gonna answer it?" Cheryl asked. She was torn between curiosity at what the Agents were doing and talking to the kidnapper to try and save her sister.

"Why is he doing this?" Her father glanced from one agent to the other, panic setting in. "What is he-what-you're gonna drive this guy crazy." He cried out, trying to move forward but Morgan and Hotch stopped him.

"Quiet. Please, quiet." Gideon requested.

The ringing began again.

As soon as it did, Cheryl cried out. "Somebody has to answer it!" She looked as if she were about to answer the call but Elle stopped her, pulling her back.

Davenport however all but lunged for the accept button, slapping away Evelyn's hand in the process as she reached forward to stop him. The slap stung but the red head wasn't even phased by the sting as she grasped the man's hand in a tight grip, pushing it away.

"Just answer the phone, for god's sake! Pick up the phone!" He all but screamed as Evelyn pushed his hand away. For someone with a small physique she was quite strong.

"Don't touch it!" Gideon commanded, pushing Davenport back where Morgan and Hotch pulled him back once again.

"He knows what he's doing." Morgan tried to get the man to calm down. Behind him Gideon accepted the phone call.

"Davenport residence." He began his voice pleasant.

"Are you out of your mind?" The kidnapper screamed over the line. "You do realize, you do understand, that I'll kill her?! Do you-" He was cut off again when Evelyn reached forward and disconnected the call.

This time the ringing started almost as soon as the call had disconnected.

"You're killing my daughter! Pick up that phone!" Davenport screamed, trying to throw off Morgan and Hotch. Of course he couldn't do anything about that. They were both highly trained FBI Agents. It would take more then just a push from him to get them to let go.

"Keep him quiet." Gideon asked of Morgan and Hotch while turning his attention to the distressed father.

"Get a hold of yourself." He advised, before picking up the call.

"She is dead!" Cheryl started to sob hysterically as soon as she heard the words. Elle pulled the girl to her chest, letting the sister cry. Evelyn's raised her eyes to look at Gideon who met her eyes briefly, giving her the confirmation that the plan was working before turning back to the phone.

"You hang up on me again, and I rip her open!" The kidnapper screamed. He sounded mad now.

Which was exactly what they had wanted all along.

"I'm sorry. You must have the wrong number." Gideon said, his voice soothing and pleasant as always, before he ended the call with a click.

"You killed her." Mr. Davenport said, his face stricken with grief his voice broken and choking as he held back his tears.

"No, sir." The Agent assured, turning his head to look at the father.

"Oh, yeah?" He growled out, standing up straight, while Morgan and Hotch hovered on either side ready to catch him if he tried to do anything. "Then what-what the hell do you think you're doing?" He asked, gesturing towards the equipment set up in front of them.

"I'm saving your daughter, ." The agent reassured him. "Have a little faith."

Again the phone started ringing. Evelyn reached forward and accepted the call after seeing Elle nod in her direction.

"Put Cheryl on the phone." The kidnapper requested. He seemed to have calmed down, he wasn't shouting anymore but Evelyn knew better. She may not know much about the human mind but she knew that the calm that he was projecting was certainly not normal. Gideon stepped forward as he answered.

"No. You're finished talking to Cheryl." He had adopted his authoritative tone now and the kidnapper noticed it as well.

"Listen to that tone of authority." He snarled through the phone. "Just like your published work, Agent Gideon. Fascinating to hear the same arrogant quality in your own voice. You are a bit of a pedant, Jason, a bit didactic?"

How in the world did the man know his first name? Evelyn glanced up to see her team members looking grim. Her own face was emotionless as she stared at the equipment in front of her, as Gideon spoke to the kidnapper.

"Well, that's a very interesting conclusion. You sound intelligent, and you certainly sound educated, and we both know that's not true."

"Oh, I know all about all of you." The man seemed to be enjoying this now.

"The ambitious Agent Hotchner?"

All eyes turned to look at the Agent who looked as grim as ever.

"Do you wanna be director of the FBI someday, Agent Hotchner?" The kidnapper asked, his voice getting louder and, if anything to Evelyn it sounded as if he were boasting. Which he was, she figured.

"Would you step on Jason Gideon to get there?" He continued, pausing for a second before continuing.

"I think you would. Post-traumatic stress is a very good excuse. Even your sick, pregnant wife can't get you to leave your post."

How in the world would he have known that?! Evelyn sat up straighter in her seat, a frown creasing her brow, lips pursed in a thin line. The man continued to talk.

"Jason Gideon, an expert in the criminal psyche yet unable to diagnose the autistic leanings of the very insecure Dr. Reid." Spencer seemed startled at the mention of his name but didn't say anything as the man went on with his little speech.

"Well, maybe he can make money counting cards in Las Vegas." He seemed to be spitting out the words then saying them.

"The lovely Elle was promoted too soon." Evelyn's eyes flicked towards Elle before going back to the equipment.

"She doesn't have what it takes to make it in the B.A.U. Boys club. You're no threat to me, you're no threat to anyone. And then there's little Evelyn Richardson." Different sets of eyes turned towards her but she ignored them as her eyes narrowed at the speaker where the voice was coming from.

"A stupid little girl who had no idea what to do with her life after daddy dearest died. Luckily she was saved by Agents Gideon and Hotchner who took her under their wing." He gave a loud snort, before continuing.

"How weak and pathetic. Are these the kind of people you're taking into the FBI now Agents?"

Evelyn was boiling with anger now, and it took all the self control she had to not smash the speaker with her bare hands. The kidnapper wasn't finished though.

"Token Derek Morgan wants to be taken seriously but he is just a pumped-up side of beef." Evelyn gripped the arms of her chair so tightly her knuckles turned paler then they already were. That was her family the bastard was talking about!

"I know who you are! I know how you think and I know what to do next! Do you?" The kidnapper screamed with a tone of finality in his voice before something clicked and the line went dead.

There was a moment of silence, which was broke by Evelyn who muttered under her breath.

"Pleasant fellow."

The words seemed to break the trance Davenport was under as he turned to look at each Agent in turn. "What the hell was that? Why did he say that he knows what to do next? Is he gonna hurt my daughter?" He asked, questions spilling out of his mouth like water out of a faucet.

"He was grandstanding." Gideon muttered, loud enough to be heard by everyone.

"You don't know that." Davenport said, standing up but was stopped by Morgan. "You-you can't possibly know that."

Gideon sighed before turing to look at the father. " , I have learned more in the last 5 minutes than in the last 24 hours."

"Oh, really?" The retired attorney said, before looking at each agent in turn. "Well, I don't understand. Why is he focused on you right now?"

"Because we are interfering in his relationship with the girls." Morgan answered the man.

"He said he knows all about you." Davenport commented, recalling what the man had said.

"Yes, apparently." Hotch said, calm about the whole situation, as always.

"He profiled us." Gideon explained as he began to pace.

"Why would he do that?" Cheryl asked, stepping forward.

"To show us how smart he is." Elle replied, her expression unfazed and tone neutral.

Spencer took over to explain the situation a in detail. "Often times the best profilers are the unsubs themselves. They're the ones able to walk into an arcade full of children and pinpoint the boy or girl that can be led out quietly."

Elle nodded slightly in agreement with Spencer's explanation. "But he made a mistake, because he gave us something he didn't expect." She commented, not helping the tone of amusement that crept into her words.

"Which is?" Davenport inquired, slightly hopeful, turning his attention towards Agent Gideon who gave a small nod of satisfaction.

"He told us how to find him."

                                              ————————–

The B.A.U. Team stood around the equipment that had been set up while talking amongst themselves.

"For the suspect to know that much about us he has to be one of us." Morgan reasoned looking at his Team members in turn. Humming under her breath, folding her arms across her chest Evelyn stepped forward.

"I can do a search of the New Haven FBI field office?" She offered, her blue eyes trained towards Hotch who nodded.

"Do that." He said before continuing. "The guy we're looking for knows this house, he knows the family." Evelyn immediately picked up her laptop and flipped open the lid her fingers flying over the keyboard almost immediately.

Spencer took the moment to speak up. "There's 700 agents in New Haven and another 70 in satellite offices. Davenport knows quite a few of them."

"I can narrow down the list but I'm gonna need help." Evelyn muttered as her screen lit up with the list of all the Agents in New Haven, her blue eyes trained towards Spencer who nodded and walked over to sit next to her.

"While we're narrowing the list, Cheryl can't stay here." Elle said, after the tech-wiz and genius had settled and started going through the names. "If he's one of us, he has access, weapons and you bet he's got a strategy."

Morgan shifted where he stood, frowning slightly. "So who can we trust?" He asked.

"No one." Hotch replied simply, before glancing at the staff and FBI Agents walking about.

"We need to get Cheryl to a safe house." He muttered under his breath.

"And limit the amount of agents she comes in contact with." Morgan commented, his eyes going over the agents and staff as well.

                                              ————————–

"Alright. Do we have a Meredith Goldman on the list?" Evelyn asked, pushing her glasses up her nose where they kept slipping down every now and then. Spencer frowned shaking his head as he quickly scanned the list of agents Davenport had been in contact with.

"No. She's not here either." Evelyn nodded, before clicking to exit the file and leaned back against her chair.

"Call Elle. We have the list." Spencer nodded fishing his phone out of his pocket and dialing Elle's number, putting the phone on speaker. He started to speak as soon as Elle picked up the phone.

"Hey! Evelyn and I have the list. And there are about twenty people here."

"How long will it take to dig up the dirt on all of them?" Elle asked. Evelyn hummed under her breath.

"At least half an hour if I go through the files by myself but twenty minutes if Spencer does it with me." The red head nudged the genius sitting next to her. Elle's chuckle crackled over the phone making Evelyn frown.

"Elle? Are you there?" She asked, voice low eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Yeah, I'm here why?" The reply came back crackle free. Evelyn frowned as she glanced up at Spencer who was looking at her in confusion.

"You kinda broke up there and that shouldn't happen because I made sure to put in a cleaner so that no line would crackle or break. But yours did." The young tech turned to her computer, bringing up a blueprint of the house sitting in front of her and hitting enter.

"What're you doing?" Spencer asked, leaning forward to look at the screen.

"Scanning the house. There might be a bug." She replied, eyes focused on the screen in front of her.

"They did a bug sweep, right when we arrived." Elle reminded over the phone, but her voice sounded uncertain.

"Yeah, I remember." Spencer replied not taking his eyes off the screen where the timer said there were only a couple of minutes remaining.

"And yet the Unsub seems to know all about us." Evelyn pointed out, tapping the arm of her chair impatiently. The three agents lapsed into silence for a few seconds before Elle spoke up.

"Hey, Reid? Evelyn? Do you two know what non-local interaction is?" Evelyn hummed under her breath as the screen started to show the blueprint of the house again, the image getting clearer and clearer by the second.

"What are you getting at?" Reid asked, turning his attention away from the computer screen.

"How can he be holding Trish prisoner and still know exactly what we're talking about?" Elle asked.

"I know what you're saying. It seems like he knows what's going on here the moment that it happens." Reid muttered as the pieces of the puzzle began to form a picture in his mind.

"There's gotta be a listening device." The agent over the phone said with a tone of finality.

"They swept the room when we got here." Reid reminded her.

"Yeah. And then they brought in their own equipment." Elle countered his reminder.

Spencer was about to reply when he felt Evelyn stiffen beside him. He turned to look at her just in time to see her grab the laptop and dash over to the study where Gideon and Mr. Davenport were sitting and talking.

"Check the equipment!" Evelyn called out, turning the screen to her older agent and pointing at a red dot. Gideon looked up in confusion.

"We have a bug!" She said, her voice and face grim.

                                              ————————–

It was a very close call.

As soon as Evelyn had discovered the bug in one of the pieces of equipment, she had very nearly taken apart the whole thing in her haste, Spencer had told Elle who had immediately rushed off to check on Cheryl. The rest of them had piled up into cars, racing towards the safe house where Cheryl had been relocated.

The kidnapper had been caught and apprehended by Elle.

Agent Vincent Shyer. The man in charge of security for Davenport himself.

Morgan was a little injured. He had been taken down by a taser to the side of his stomach. Evelyn heaved a sigh when she saw him limping out of the building, grimacing with each step. It could've been worse. Shyer could've stabbed him or shot him. Evelyn was just glad it wasn't anything worse. After getting Patricia from where she had been held, Evelyn heaved a sigh of relief.

Their work here was done.

Now all they had to look forward to was the paperwork.

"Evelyn? You alright?"

A blue eye opened to see a concerned Morgan looking at her from across his seat. She nodded turning in her chair so that she was facing him.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" She said, gesturing towards his injury which was all bandaged up now. He only chuckled in response, grimacing slightly as the movement tugged at his injury.

"I'll be alright Ginger. Its just a little scratch." Evelyn raised an eyebrow at his comment.

"Which resulted in a blood wound and you being temporarily paralyzed?" She shot back, sitting up in her chair as she did, making sure to keep her voice down so as not to disturb Reid and Elle who were asleep and Gideon and Hotch who were doing last minute background checks on Shyer from the files she had dug up. Morgan smirked at her, leaning back into his chair and closing his eyes.

"Touché Ginger."

Evelyn gave a small smile, reaching into her bag and pulling out her small MP3 player. Finding the song she wanted to play, she was about to place her headphones over her ears when she remembered something.

"Hey Agent Gideon? Hotch?"

The two older agents looked up from their files at her soft call, from where they had been sitting on the other side of the plane.

"Next time I take my own equipment." She said, fighting the smile that threatened to take over her face. Although she lost the battle since she was grinning from ear to ear as she placed her headphones over her ears, while Hotch and Gideon shook their heads at her, going back to reading their files, both with a slight smile on their face.

                                              ————————–

Tag List: @lovelyygirl8

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid x oc #criminal minds imagine #mind over matter

[cwritesforfun]

(Criminal Minds) Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader: Lunch Date

Based on 1st Season Spencer Reid Spencer met Y/N at a bookstore. He asked her out and his date is tomorrow.  Got facts Spencer will day from these websites - Wikipedia, PubMed, Journal of Sleep Research, and college grad program website **I don't own these characters except for Y/N and the waiter, Alex** **Y/N = Your Name**

Master list

Spencer's POV

We just got back to Quantico from our last case in Florida.

I pack up my things to go home and Morgan walks over. He asks "Doing anything this weekend?" I answer "Reading Lord Of The Rings, a date, and catching up on my soap shows." Morgan nods and then his jaw drops. He asks "A date? Damn with who pretty boy?" I laugh and answer "A girl from a bookstore." He replies "Don't do anything I would do. Actually scratch that man, do what I would do. Enjoy yourself." Garcia stops by and asks "Enjoy himself? Hey, remember when Reid did his physics magic and it exploded at Hotchner's feet? He was enjoying himself then." We all laugh. Morgan says "He's going on a date." Garcia smiles and hugs me. She says "Omg I can't believe it. Tell me everything." I reply "There's really not much to tell. She was in the fantasy genre section of the bookstore on 5th Street named BooksAMillion. It was actually row 16. I was browsing nearby and I thought she looked pretty. I walked over and we talked about books for a little bit before I asked her out. The bookstore worker wasn't happy about us talking semi-loudly, but I could tell she likes to see a relationship blossom at her store. She let it pass. That's it." Garcia laughs and replies "Of course, you met her at a bookstore and remember exactly where you met. Please invite me to the wedding and the proposal you should have there." I reply "Garcia, I haven't even gone out with her yet." She laughs and replies “You always know when it’s the one.”

Y/N's POV - Next Day!

I'm meeting Dr. Spencer Reid for our date tonight. He's literally the same age as me and has multiple PHD’s. I feel so unaccomplished. It's fine though. After getting a double Master's, I was done with school.

We're going to lunch at some random place he picked then we planned on picking a book out for each other at the bookstore we met at. I think it'll be cute. I'm very excited.

I arrive at the lunch place on time and see Dr. Reid sitting on the bench outside. He sees me, waves, and stands. I walk up and exclaim "Hi Dr. Reid! How are you doing today?" He replies "Please call me Spencer. I've had a good day so far. I finished rereading the entire Lord of the Rings Trilogy and started rewatching episodes of my soaps."

We head inside the restaurant and we take a seat at an empty table.

I ask "Finish the trilogy again? Wait did you read all 3 today or just the last one?" He answers "All 3. I can read 20,000 words per minute." I reply "Damn I wish I was you. That would've made school so much easier." He replies "Not for me. I was bullied in school. I reply “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m glad you made it out in one piece.” He smiles and says “Yeah, I made it out one piece physically. My reading speed did help with my 3 BAs and 3 PHDs that my bullies don’t have." I smile and reply "Wow what a flex. I was wondering why you were called a Doctor. Personally, I only got two Master's and then I was done with school." He replies "More than 16 million people have a Master's in the U.S. That is roughly 8% of the population. Did you know that the amount of students in college now who are pursuing their Master's is higher than in the past decade?" I answer "That's so interesting. Huh well, I think it personally helped me get the job I have, which is good."

A waiter walks up and exclaims "Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Alex. I'll be your server this afternoon. What can I get for both of you to drink?" We both tell him our drink orders then he swiftly returns with drinks. We tell him our food order and he leaves.

I ask "Have you ever been here before?" He shakes his head and answers "My friend, Morgan, told me about it. He goes on a lot of dates. It seemed to have a good selection from the menu, so I'm glad he suggested it." I smile and nod. He asks "Any plans for the rest of the weekend?" I answer "Get some sleep tonight to be ready for the week and maybe bake some kind of bread to eat for breakfast this week." He replies "Oh... According to PubMed, people don't just adjust to a routinely disparate weekday and weekend sleep schedule. You think you do, but you don't. Not to mention, the Journal of Sleep Research says we get about 30 minutes less sleep than we would ideally need on each night of the working week... sorry I got a little carried away there." I smile and reply "No problem at all. It's super interesting. Did any of those articles ever say what to do instead? Because if you aren't catching up with your sleep, then what? He answers "Mainly it said to keep a normal sleep schedule and not to change anything." I reply "Is that cool? Yes. Will I try it? Maybe not. I love not having a healthy sleeping pattern." He laughs.

Food arrives and we eat.

After lunch, we walk down the street to BooksAMillion for the next part of our date.

I ask "So do we have a time limit or book limit or price limit or anything?" He asks "Do you have an idea of what you want to get already?" I nod. He says "Ok so do I. We can do 15 minutes and a 2-book limit." I reply "Deal!"

We separate and I start walking to fantasy. He seems like a Star Trek & adventure-loving guy, so time for my first book. I grab my first book and then head to the nonfiction section for my second one. I pick it up and head to the checkout line. I wait in it and checkout.

As I walk towards the exit, I see Spencer by the entrance holding a bag plus two cups. He hands me one and says "I got you a coffee. You seem like a two-sugar and half-n-half girl to me. I hope you don't mind and I hope I got your order right." I reply "Omg wow yes that is my order. Thanks, Spencer. Shall we?" I motion to the door and he nods.

We leave and head to the park across the street. We sit on a bench and I ask "Who first?" He answers "You seem excited. You start." I smile and say "Ok... here ya go. I shall explain why as soon as you see them." I hand him the bag and he sets his coffee down. He takes the bag and opens it. He pulls out the first one. I exclaim "Ok so my first one. Now based on our one conversation from last time, you gave me Trekkie vibes like you just seem like Star Trek would be your thing. Am I right?" He nods and I continue "Awesomeness wow! So my first one is Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik gives me very much Kathryn Janeway vibes. Ooh I hate that I've said vibes twice in the span of 5 minutes. Ew. Sorry ok so... Kathryn was the first Federation captain to successfully traverse the Delta Quadrant, encountering dozens of new planets and civilizations over the course of seven years. Then in the book, the plot revolves around three amazing women and a stubborn resistance to cultural norms. Have you read it before?" He shakes his head and replies "No I can't say I have. Nice call on Star Trek. So now book 2!" He pulls it out and I exclaim "Ahh ok so book two is The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. I recommend it to so many people because I think there's something in there that will resonate with everybody. It makes you believe in yourself and not feel so uninspired by work. I don't even know if you feel that way, but it's helped me and I thought hey why not?" He replies "Well thank you. I'm sure I'll like it. I'm excited to read them." I smile.

I set my coffee down and he hands me my bag. He picks his coffee back up, sips it, then exclaims "So the first one is a classic, so I really hope you haven't read it yet. The Once And Future King by T.H. White is a retelling of King Arthur and his life. The book is divided into four parts, which are The Sword in the Stone detailing the youth of Arthur. Then, The Queen of Air and Darkness was published separately in a somewhat different form as The Witch in the Wood. Next is The Ill-Made Knight (1940), dealing mainly with the character of Lancelot. Lastly is The Candle in the Wind. I hope you like it as much as I do. My second book is quite the craze among people at the moment. It is The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. It was originally written in Portuguese, but I picked the English version for you. It follows a young Andalusian shepherd on his journey to the pyramids of Egypt, after having a recurring dream of finding a treasure there. I hope you like them." I smile and reply "I'm excited to read them. Thank you so much, Spencer." His phone rings and he says "Oh... one minute." He walks off with his phone.

Spencer shortly returns and says "This was a fun date. Thank you for coming. I hope we can do this again. Unfortunately, I have to head to work." I reply "Aww yeah I had fun too. This was a great date! Well, I guess I'll see ya Spencer!" He grabs his bag and coffee then he leans forward to kiss me on the cheek. He says "Bye Y/N." I wave bye and he walks off.

I head home right after to start reading my books.

Spencer's POV

On the jet, I pull out my books and set them on the table. Morgan asks "You got new books? What about that date? Did you miss it?" I answer "No. In fact, she picked these books out for me. One was because she guessed I was a Star Trek fan and one was to inspire me plus it's one of her favorite books. I gave her The Once And Future King plus The Alchemist." He laughs and replies "Nerds. Geez. So you had fun?" I answer "Technically fun is enjoyment, amusement, or lighthearted pleasure. I have fun all the time. If you mean, do I think we'll go on another date? I kissed her on the cheek and she let me ramble. I'd say yes." He laughs.

........................................................................... THANK YOU FOR READING!!!! :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #imagines

[buckybarnes-1917]

SPENCER REID~ IMAGINE

Dad!Spencer; Husband!Spencer

Summary:

You walk in on Spencer playing dress up with your daughter.

Warnings:

None!

Contains:

Fluff!

*I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF*

~

Getting off of work after a long day was always amazing, especially knowing what awaits you at home: your daughter and sometimes your husband, Spencer, if he wasn’t off working on a case for work.

You call Spence to let him know you were on the way home, something the two of you have made a habit after being married for 10 years and being best friends since the two of you met. He was your tutor in high school while he going on to get his PhD, crazy right? You married a man with an IQ of 187, something you were still mesmerized to this day.

After calling him twice and receiving no answer, you get worried. You knew Spence was off today and spent the day with your daughter, Rose Marie Reid. He normally is really good about answering his phone, even when he was busy at work, insisting that you and Rose Marie were more important than work and would always answer no matter what.

A grueling 20 minutes later of fast driving and lane swerving to get home, you finally reach your destination. You see the lights on in the house, as well as Spencer’s car in the driveway.

You get walk through the door and announce your arrival, but no response. Now you were definitely worried.

Rushing up to your daughter’s room, you hear Spence and Rose laughing loudly which instantly brings a smile to your face. Knowing they were okay, for one, made you happy but also hearing the sound of them laughing warmed your heart.

You peak your head into the room and see you husband crouching down to the 4 year old’s height while she applies makeup to his face. Not only is this a funny sight, but you see him in an old dress you used to wear that was stuffed into the back of your closet. He had to have really dug for that one, you thought.

“Daddy be still! You move too much!” Rose Marie cried out, causing Spencer to chuckle, frustrating her more.

“Well, if you didn’t keep stabbing my eyes I wouldn’t move!” he exclaimed back jokingly. Spencer had the widest grin on his face as he looked at his little girl in adoration.

To say you were lucky is to say the least.

You watched in on Spence and Rose for a few for minutes, laughing quietly to yourself when they would start to ‘argue’ over a plethora of things: him moving, her stabbing his eyes, him breathing too much and his breath ‘stinking’, and her taking forever with the makeup.

“Daddy if you move one more time, I will tell mommy that you weren’t playing princess with me like you promised,” Rose Marie spoke, a hand going on her hip in the process. Lord, did she have your attitude.

Spencer’s eyebrows lifted in confusion,”But I am playing? I don’t just wear dresses and makeups for anyone, you know.”

She gave him a mischievous smile before speaking,”I’ll still tell her on you. Mommy will get onto you,” after saying this she stuck her tongue out at him.

Now was your time to make you presence known, confused as to how it went this long, but nonetheless. “So you were going to tell on daddy for no reason?”

The other two Reids’ heads snapped to you, Spencer’s smile brightened as he noticed you were finally home. He missed you a lot today, even though he enjoyed his time ‘Father-Daughter’ bonding with Rose Marie, Spencer loved the three of you spending time together more than anything in the world-aside from his alone time with you of course. *insert Debbie Ryan meme*

“Mommy!” Rose screamed as she ran up to you. You bent down to her level and caught her as she ran into, throwing her arms around your neck, “I missed you so much today!” she pulled away from you and began speaking again,” Daddy and I had lots of fun though, he took me…”

As Rose was continuing on to you about her day with Spencer, he walked over to you and crouched down next to you, smiling over at you as he watched you listen to the daughter the two of you shared.

Spencer never thought his life could be as perfect as it was in this moment. He has all he could ever ask for, you and Rose. His perfect little family. Spencer reached his hand out to your back and began rubbing circles on it while Rose continued to babble, much like he did with his facts.

A small smile graced your lips as you felt Spencer’s hand on your back and you side-eyed him as Rose kept talking. You were struggling to hold back laughter as you looked at him, completely forgetting his face was covered in multiple different shades of makeup and wearing your dress. The things he’d do for Rose, you thought to yourself.

Later that night after the four year old was put to sleep, you were in the kitchen cleaning up from supper while Spence was upstairs struggling to get the makeup off.

“Hey, Y/N?” he questioned as he rounded the corner from the hallway. He had gotten majority of the makeup off, though you’d hope so after him being in the bathroom for 20 minutes with your makeup wipes.

You hummed in response, locking eyes with him as he got closer to you, his tall frame towering over you more and more as the distance between you two closed.

Spencer walked up and gave you a loving kiss on the lips, before pecking your lips three times and pulling away. The two of you smiling as you did so,

“How was your day, sweetheart?” Spencer asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist, looking down to you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck,”It was good, I had two court cases today and won both of them. I just wish I could’ve been home with you and Rosey. Help her get you all dolled up and what not.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, still smiling,” Haha. Laugh it up. You’re just mad that I looked amazing in your dress.” With that, he proceeded to take one of his hands ‘flip’ his hair back in a diva like fashion.

You both laughed, and talked for a few minutes longer before making your way to the bedroom. The two of you showered together that night, in a non sexual way, but still admired each other’s bodies. Both of you wondering how in the world y’all got so lucky with one another.

~

Thank you so much for reading! Send requests if you want another Spencer or whatever character you want that can be found on my page!

Love each and every one of you lots❤️

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #criminal minds #romance #fluff #dr. spencer reid #dr reid