#spencer reid imagine
hey love, i have a request! i thought of something, spencer x fem reader smut in which the reader had to user her safe word (for whatever reason, i leave the plot to you) and the end is rlly fluffy and comforting <3333 if u dont feel like writing this its 100% okay, have a nice day/ night :)))
Safe Word: Red
Summary: After a rough night, y/n uses her safe word in the morning calling for aftercare.
Characters: Spencer x reader
Word Count: 632
Author’s Note: THANK YOU FOR A REQUEST!! I hope this is what you wanted! If not, just let me know and I can try again! Sorry it is a little short, very exhausting day!
Warnings: daddy Spence, safe word, fingering
The smell of fresh pancakes filled the air as soft music played in another room.Y/n was rolled over and was disappointed at the feeling of an empty bed. She slowly made her way to the bathroom sore from last night. Spence had just gotten back from a case and the “I missed you sex” was always a bit rougher then normal. She couldn’t complain because it was always the best. After finishing in the bathroom, she made her way to the kitchen and saw her lover plating breakfast for the two of them.
“Good morning, my love. Just in time for pancakes. Juice or milk?”
Y/n smiled softly. “I can get it, Spence.”
“Nope, I got it.”
“Chocolate milk please!” Y/n made her way to the table, not wanting to protest Spencer.
** After breakfast **
“That was amazing, thank you Spence.”
“Of course my love. You know, I think I might need some dessert.”
The look of lust was present in Spencer’s eyes as y/n giggled.
“Is that so?”
Before she knew it, y/n was bent over the table with her hands behind her back. She just smiled.
Y/n felt her pajamas slowly being slid down her legs; shivering as a cold breeze hit her legs. She jumped as Spencer spanked her without warning. She was a little more sore than she usually was. Another smack landed on the other cheek. She moaned as his middle finger made it way inside of her. She squirmed but was stopped as his unoccupied hand found its way to her hips holding her still. He added another and his thumb found his way to her already sensitive clit. Y/n felt the alll too familiar knot building in her stomach.
“Cum for me Princess. Cum for Daddy.” Spencer helped her ride the high but she was shocked by the continuation of his movements after her orgasm.
She was so sore from last night and one orgasm was enough to drain all her energy.
“Red, Spence, Red.”
Immediately Spencer stopped all actions and pulled her into a hug.
“Y/n, what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry Spen…”
“No, love, you do not have to apologize. That’s what we have safe words for. Why don’t we go wash up and relax a little? Does that sound good??”
Y/n nodded as she felt his hands snake to the back of her thighs pulling her up to carry her. Spence sat her on the bathroom counter, leaning her against the wall, as he started a warm bath for her. He slowly took off her shirt and sat her in the tub. A tired, very tired y/n made grabby hands for him to join and he couldn’t say no.
Spencer helped y/n wash off and get out of the tub; him doing the same. He could see the exhaustion in her eyes and knew she needed to sleep. Spencer helped y/n get dressed in one of his sweatshirts and some pj shorts. Spencer opted for some sweatpants and no shirt. Y/n always loved when she could lay on his chest.
“Y/n, do you want to cuddle and watch a movie?”
She only smiled and nodded, no words. Spencer knew she would protest taking a nap, but he also knew she would fall fast asleep with cuddles and a movie. Y/n climbed into bed snatching all the covers and waiting for Spencer to get in bed too. Spencer complied and was soon in bed holding y/n close.
“What do you want to watch, love?”
He was confused when there was no answer, only a soft snore. Spencer chuckled as he turned off the TV and cuddled y/n closer.
“I love you y/n.”
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do you think spencer reid is a dog person? or cat person? or bird person??? reptile person????
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So there is this cute little dress shop directly next to my college and I always peek at the dresses they have displayed as I walk by. And today they had a display of a simple wedding dress with two light brown bridesmaids dresses and I’m such a fucken simp for Spencer Reid that I looked at them and instantly thought how they’d look better in a lilac colour. And then how beautiful Spence would be in a suit with a lilac tie on his wedding day...?!? Like?!? Ugh. I’m constantly soft for Spencer fucken Reid man.
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (gn <3)
Summary: Spencer takes a bullet for Reader who then gets mad and confesses their feelings during an emotional argument (inspired by Taylor Swift)
Category: angst with fluff at the end.
Warnings: criminal minds typical stuff such as death, blood, mention of suicide, guns, alcohol. (please let me know if I forgot something)
The team has always been aware of the spark between you and Spencer before you two even knew it was reciprocated. Spencer’s love language was subtle despite him being head over heels for you. He is often afraid of being unprofessional since this job already made him cross too many personal boundaries for his own good. Dating you in such a serious work place was not forbidden but highly advised against. And you would completely understand, the entire team made the promise to not let their personal feelings jeopardise an investigation.
Either way, he didn’t expect you to love him back. He was already grateful for your friendship and how could someone so beautiful, so special could love someone so awkward and weird? he thought. However, him being madly in love with you, (which you didn’t know), made it hard to hold back especially when seeing you in distress. So he would secretly hold hands with you under the table, bring you coffee in the morning. Just like sharing his blanket with you on the jet; a reminder you were on your way to California for a case.
“The unsub held captive his victims for a couple of days before killing them. It seems he kills people from the same social circle.” Emily spoke up reading from her files making an observation.
“I’m thinking this is personal. He may be someone highly sensitive who struggles to handle rejection.” You added.
“I agree but how do you explain the fact that they’re all men ? Usually, men seek revenge against women that turn them down.” Morgan retorted.
“Ugh men and we’re the ones they call dramatic.” You nodded knowingly at JJ’s remark.
“It could be because he feels threatened by those Alpha males.” Hotch said answering Morgan’s question.
As soon as you landed you made your way to the SUVs already waiting for you under the californian setting sun. As you drove away you admired the pink sky, the palm trees, the neon signs and the street lights. The more the sun was setting the less the glimmers of the stars were shy. Glimpses of blue and purple melting together caught your eye.
Once you arrived at the hotel, you paired up with JJ for a change which was slightly surprising but not too overlooked since you and JJ went along well. Spencer paired up with Emily and that left Morgan and Hotch together. After drinking a bit from the mini bar and laughing a bit too much at your funny anecdotes JJ sighed in a somewhat dramatic way.
“What?” You asked. “He really does love you.” she nodded nostalgically, a little teary like a proud mom or maybe that was the alcohol or maybe both. You shook your index finger, climbing out of bed disagreeing; “huh huh.”
“What’s wrong, Y/n ?”
“Yes, way yes!” she dumbly responded her speech slurred.
“And how would you know ?”
“I just see it in the way he looks at you. Like…”
“Like what?!” You opened your arms and hands shaking your face like a mad person.
“Like you’re his entire world! Why are you reluctant anyways ?”
“I just don’t want to get my hopes too high.”
“Trust me, you’re not.” You hugged her and both went to bed. You still didn’t believe he loved you like JJ said. She probably confused his affection for love. You couldn’t believe someone was in love with you because you’ve been hurt too many times in the past. Your ex boyfriend was so shitty he seriously made you doubt if you were even loveable by a man.
The next day was spent in the police department raking on your brain drinking coffee until you shook and had cold sweats. Of course, you were determined to find who that unsub was but let’s say you were killing two birds with one stone. Not only were you helping saving lives but you were also distracting yourself from the night before’s conversation still echoing in your mind.
“Hey, Y/n, maybe you should take a break…” Emily suggested pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Why ? I’m perfectly fine.” You answered a little too quickly for her taste.
“Well, you don’t look fine.” You didn’t need words to interrupt her, the look on your face was enough. You found a lead! You saw a pattern in the mutilated bodies linking it with religion which added an element to the profile. You explained your discovery to Emily who gathered the team. Penelope with the help of Morgan, was able to narrow down the profile to find a location.
You hurried out, time was limited and someone had been missing for almost 48 hours; the next kill was near. The location was in the workplace of the unsub, a butchery not to your surprise but much to your disgust. That’s where he would sequestrate his victims. You and Spencer went through the main entrance to talk the unsub out of it. It was not exactly convenient for you but you were too busy trying to stop a killer on the loose to worry about your own personal problems. You made a great team enhance it was obvious you were going to pair up. The rest of the team surrounded the building, JJ and Hotch at the back in case he tried to escape and to provide back up. Morgan and Emily at the side where there was another entrance.
The unsub had a gun, quite ironic considering the setting, pointed at the head of the victim. Spencer was trying to dissuade the unsub from killing his victim just like you unless he was more devoted if not too optimistic.
“Spencer.” You sharply called his name as he put his gun down on the floor. He wanted to make an exchange; him over the victim. “Back down.” Instead of listening to you, he slowly took a step forward. You felt a pinch in your guts, this offer displeased you to the highest level. Therefore, you raised your gun pulling the trigger to signal you were not having it but neither did the unsub who shot at your direction. You did not have time to think. You expected to feel pain in your abdomen but Spencer took a bullet for you. In shock and indignation you fired multiple times at the monster before your eyes with pure hatred. He dropped on the floor in a pool of blood. You got down to Spencer’s level holding his head. After hearing gunshots, the team ran in. Everything around you was spinning, the shot was fired at his stomach being an area covered by his bulletproof vest. Despite that, he was barely conscious, you knew it was probably because of shock or due to the fact he banged his head but fear, scratch that you were terrified, overcame you as you whined for him to wake up shaking him.
“Spencer, please, please, please wake up.” You begged. His eyes fluttered, too suffocated to speak he squeezed your hand. You held his torso with a hand resting on his head. “Oh thank god, you’re alive.” You said more at whatever was above you than him. To say you were grateful he was okay was an understatement. As you raised your head, you noticed the victim was taken care of since they weren’t inside anymore and the body was covered in plastic. The medics came in with Emily who showed the way to the room and lifted Spencer.
After that, you didn’t visit him at the hospital. You didn’t call, you didn’t send him a “get better soon” card, nada. He was upset about it, sad and angry but mostly confused. You are willing to protect him at all cost, this was proved when you shot that guy as much times as they were bullets in your gun. You felt guilty for ignoring him but you were mad at him for endangering his life so stupidly. You would ask the team how he was after each visit but that was all.
Back in Quantico, Penelope decided to throw him a surprise welcome party at his apartment which you helped her with feeling the guilt crush your conscience. Plus you had a double of his keys which no one else did. You didn’t know that before and that only made you feel like a cruel, undeserving…person. Suddenly, the door opened. Spencer walked in with Rossi. Helium balloons with golden threads were hanging in the air, a whole crowd was there but he only looked for your face. You hid at a corner chugging straight from the rosé bottle; this evening was going to be long. The whole team circled him with love and affection.
“Wait, let me find Y/n. Where is she ?” Penelope asked.
“It’s okay, another time.” Spencer responded. “I’m so glad to be back with you guys,” he admitted gratefully still blushing from the pda he just received. By the time the party was dying down you were drunk. You tripped like a newborn deer trying to learn how to walk almost taking the monster plant with you. “God, she is drunk, huh?” Stated Morgan. “Yep.” said Rossi.
“It’s okay, I’ll drive her back. It’ll give us an occasion to talk.” Spencer affirmed.
“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay driving right out the hospital so late ?” Rossi asked like the concerned rich uncle he secretly was.
“Yeah, don’t worry. I didn’t drink and her apartment is only two miles away.”
“Alright, drive safe, kid.”
He made his way to you, “Hey Y/n, um, I’m gonna take you home.” His tone was a bit cold as if you were strangers.
He helped you up leading you to his car. You lied in the backseat as he started driving.
“Why did you do that ?”
“Do what ? Save your life ?” He answered dryly.
“Almost kill yourself.” You said just as sharply. He pulled up to a parking lot right across a bar ready to take on whatever you had to say to him. “Why do you have to be like this ?” You started sobbing playing with the cardigan on your lap you found in his car. He turned to you touched by the hurt in your voice. “Y/n, what are you talking about ?”
“I keep putting up all these walls, I keep fucking things up and still you almost died for me. I am literally the most unlovable person on the planet yet you still love me. Well, loved because I was a total jerk to you.” You screamed in tears. After a long beat full of sobs you spoke again but more quietly this time; “You’re so selfish, it’s sickening.”
“Me? Selfish?! You wanna talk about you never visiting me at the hospital?”
“Because I couldn’t bring myself to look at what I did to you! You didn’t think one second of what it would make me feel to see you die right in front of my eyes. Did you think of all the people who love you ?”
“I don’t understand-“
“I’m in love with you, you idiot! Isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard ?”
You wiped your tears regaining your breathe or hyperventilating, you weren’t quite sure.
“Y/n, are you sure this isn’t the alcohol talking?”
“No! I know who I’m talking to, okay? I love you, you, you, you! I love your stupid brain, I love your stupid face, your stupid voice, your stupid smile. It’s you that I love you, Dr Spencer Walter Reid!” This time you were the one rambling making your point across. His eyes went from being dark from anger to soft reflecting tenderness with a tint of sadness. He got out of the car to come back in to sit next to you on the backseat. You were shaking, he thought it was from the cold so he put the cardigan on your shoulders. And it did cure your shivering just not in the way he thought.
He put his hand under your chin to make you have eye contact with him. All of his inhibitions melting away just like yours were about to. He smiled licking his lips to make the words softly glide over his tongue. “Y/n, I’m in love with you too.” You chuckled as he pulled you in to his side making friction on your arm with his hand. “And I’m never going to leave. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes because you’re spectacular. You care so much about others, you’re so dedicated to your job. And I mean, look at that face.” He made you laugh a bit more. You rest your head on his shoulder the time for you to regain your composure and to enjoy each other’s company while looking at the neon signs and the street lights. You talked in the dark resolving your issues. Putting away your self loathing idiotic assumptions, breaking your chains to love each other, to be free.
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fanfic writers: *make an x reader fic that's meant to be inclusive to everyone because the reader can be literally anybody*
fanfic writers: *include a visual/fanfic cover of a white, model thin woman with long blonde or dark hair that is the stereotypical ideal of attractiveness that most people don't fit that is the character they want you to be imagining while you are reading the fic*
fanfic writers: enjoy :)
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Constellation | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic
A/N: A cheeky little Galaxy post :)
WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR 13x01, hospitals, general CM stuff, descriptions of panic attacks and PTSD (fictional so possibly not accurate and DEFINITELY not how everyone might experience it)
This is part of my GALAXY universe! If you liked this relationship, check out the MASTERLIST for more content!
You had only just been allowed to resume field work after an extended medical leave when Cat Adams resurfaced, leading Emily to sideline you once again.
“I’m not having this fight with you, (y/n).”
“I’m cleared for field work.”
“I know, but you’ve been cleared for less than a week and I don’t want your first case back to be this one.”
“Why, because it’s Cat Adams? I’m not afraid of her.”
“Because you’re not afraid of her, that’s why.”
“I told you, I’m not having this fight. You’re going to stay here and work the case with us. JJ will go with Reid.”
As much as you resented Emily for not letting you go to the prison with Spencer, you were glad she was at least sending JJ. At least he wouldn’t be alone. It was enough to keep your head on straight, and Emily even let you go with the team to collect Diana. It made you feel more useful, especially when Spencer’s mom recognized you among the team.
When you got back to the BAU, you planned to make sure Spencer and his mom had everything they needed to resume normal life. Instead, you were greeted by Morgan, who had a lead on Scratch.
You expected Emily to tell you to stay, Scratch was just as big of a threat as Cat Adams, but she handed you a kevlar vest and didn’t say anything about it when you joined the team in the SUV’s.
It was thrilling, being back in the field. You understood why you hadn’t been allowed to be there in so long, your mind kept flickering to Spencer and his wellbeing. For the past three months, the thought was loaded and often lead to panic attacks. Now that he was released, you had to keep reminding yourself that he was safe before your worries got that far.
The speed of the drive was enough to fuel your adrenaline, but it was amped up quickly when the spikes took out your small caravan.
The truck came out of nowhere, smashing into your vehicle and immediately disorienting you more than you already were. When you finally came to, the first thing you noticed was the pain in your left arm. There was a woman next to you, she didn’t look physically injured but her behavior told you otherwise. She clearly had something internal going on.
You tried to exit the vehicle, but the side was smashed into your leg. While you didn’t think your leg was broken, you surely wouldn't be able to get it out on your own. Your hands found your gun instead, and on autopilot you double checked that it was loaded. You couldn't figure out where the rest of your gear was, or your platoon. You started whispering their names, trying to locate them.
“Smith… sound off. Marcos… sound off… Taylor… sound off. Taylor… sound off.”
“(y/n)?” a strangely familiar voice called. You tried to melt into the seat as much as you could, keeping your gun drawn towards the door on the other side of the woman. It opened, revealing a man you felt like you knew in another life.
“(y/n), it’s Matt Simmons. Are you hurt?”
“I don’t know who you are,” you kept your gun trained on his forehead. He paused for a moment, noticing the state that the woman next to you was in.
“Ok, ok. I’m going to take Tara, you stay where you are and I’ll help you next.”
“Where’s my platoon?” you asked. The flicker of realization that briefly crossed his face confused you, but instead of acting on it he took the woman he called Tara out of the SUV and started calling for someone named Luke.
“Sergeant (y/l/n), I’m Luke Alvez with the 75th Rangers. I’m going to help you get out, ok?” A new voice, also familiar, said to you calmly, “can you put the gun down?”
“Where's my platoon, Alvez?” you asked again.
“You were in an accident,” he slid onto the seat next to you when you lowered your weapon, though you kept your finger on the trigger.
“They ambushed us,” you whispered quietly when he got to working on freeing your leg.
“I know. Do you know where you are?”
“Afghanistan,” you answered incredulously, “where are the helicopters? How are you going to extract us without helicopters?” You were starting to panic more than you already had been, breathing increasing rapidly. You held your arm at a funny angle, trying to keep it where it would hurt the least. Your best guess was at least one broken bone in your arm and also a broken collarbone on that side.
“Hey, hey, it’s ok. You’re having a flashback. I can’t get your leg out from here. The first responders are going to have to help, but I can’t have you shooting them.”
“No,” you pushed back on him with your good arm, “If I can’t move you need to find Taylor first.”
“Who is Taylor?”
“You’re no help to me,” your hand flew to your left wrist, fiddling with the bracelet you wore.
“Ok, I’ll be right back,” he stepped out of the SUV and back to Simmons. Despite the clamor of first responders around you, you could still hear what the two men were saying.
“They’re deep in a flashback. We can’t get power tools in here until they’ve calmed down or they will start fighting and hurt a lot of people including themselves,” Luke said.
“So how do we do that?”
“They keep asking about their platoon, about someone named Taylor. I know (y/n) got into a humvee accident while they were overseas, I think they’re reliving it. I don’t know all the details though.”
“Who does? Does (y/n) have a therapist we can call?”
“Yeah, but it’s three in the morning,” Luke fell silent for a minute before speaking again, “I’ll call Reid. He might know something.
You had an inkling that those words were supposed to mean something to you, and it only frustrated you more when they didn’t. Alvez announced that he was rejoining you in the SUV, then pulled out his cell phone, a move that confused you because phones like that didn’t work in the desert.
It confused you even more when the call seemingly connected, Alvez giving the person on the other line information about being ambushed by Scratch, Steven being dead, and Emily missing. Though familiar, none of those names made sense to you, or your situation.
“No,” you hissed, “Taylor. I can’t find Taylor.”
“(y/n) is ok. Their arm is broken, and they're deep in a flashback. They keep asking about someone named Taylor. They never talked about a Taylor in group, what can I do to help them?” Alvez listened for a minute, then handed you the phone, “it’s for you.”
“Where did you take Taylor,” you asked harshly as soon as you had the phone in your hand.
“Listen to me, (y/n). It’s Spencer. Your mind is playing tricks on you, you’re not in Afghanistan anymore. Look around,” you finally took a minute to observe your surroundings. There were too many trees for you to be in the desert, he was right. Of all the things that weren’t making sense to you right now, he was the most familiar. He had the answers you were looking for.
“Where am I? What is happening to me?"
“You’re with the FBI in Virginia. You can trust Luke, he’s going to make sure they take you to the hospital and I’ll meet you there.”
“Is Taylor ok?”
“Yes. I’ll tell you where Taylor is when I see you at the hospital, ok? I know you’re scared and hurt, (y/n), but listen to me. It’s only rain. Can you picture the rain for me?”
A single memory jumped to the forefront of your mind, standing in the rain with a curly-headed man you were certain was Spencer. You could feel the way the droplets hit your skin, you could feel the comfort you had with the man you knew was your best friend. You could feel your lungs opening up and your breathing get easier.
“Spencer,” you exhaled, finally finding footing in your brain, “it’s only rain.”
“Keep breathing, Luke is going to get you out and I’ll meet you at the hospital, ok?”
“Yeah,” you fought to keep your breathing steady, “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
You hung up and handed the phone back to Luke, counting your breaths.
“Give me another minute, Luke,” you could still feel your heart racing, though your mind was fighting to come back to reality. Once you felt like you had a better grip on it, you gave Luke the go-ahead and braced yourself while the crushed door of the SUV was cut off of the vehicle. It took every grounding technique you had to keep your head in the right place, and more than once you felt yourself start to panic about where Taylor was.
Luke rode in the ambulance with you, reassuring you multiple times that it was ok when you apologized for pointing a gun at him and Matt. You could feel your body crashing from the loss of adrenaline, the usual post-episode exhaustion coupled with the almost excruciating pain coming from your left side.
When Spencer arrived at the hospital, your brain was still cloudy from the exhaustion and various pain meds you had been given when the orthopedist had set your arm.
“How are you feeling?” he took a quick glance at your medical chart before actually making eye contact.
“Just tired, and still not… still not all the way here. Taylor… I still can’t figure out what happened to Taylor…”
Spencer sat down on the edge of the hospital bed, eyes soft, “Taylor was killed in the accident ten years ago. Your humvee was ambushed, do you remember?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, “I remember. Ten years ago when I was in the military. Now I’m a Supervisory Special Agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. We were chasing a lead when we were ambushed by Mr. Scratch, Peter Lewis,” Spencer nodded, “is the rest of the team ok? I haven’t seen them.”
“I haven’t seen anyone yet either,” he hesitated, and your knowledge of the man clued you in to the fact that he was calculating the probability of declining your condition if he told you everything he knew. The odds were in your favor, because after a moment he spoke again, “but Steven is dead and Emily is missing.”
“I don’t know much about it, I have to talk to everyone else.”
“Then go talk to them, I promise I won’t go anywhere until you come back,” you reassured him. He made his rounds to JJ and Rossi in their rooms, then returned to yours with Luke on his heels. The other man stopped at the doorway when Spencer re-entered your room.
“I have to go take care of something for Rossi. You’re going to be ok here,” he said quickly before you could protest.
“I’m coming with you,” you started to get up. Spencer caught you gingerly when you practically fell into his grasp, still fatigued from your earlier episode.
“You can’t, not like this,” he whispered, lowering you back down onto the bed, “stay here a little longer. Will is in the next room with JJ, he said he’d take you home when they discharge you.”
“I don’t want to go home, Spence. I want to help find Emily.”
“I know, you can’t go into the field like this though. Tell me you’ll be good for the doctors so I can leave here without worrying more about you.”
You couldn't say no to this man you cared so much about, not when he was looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes you had ever seen from him.
"I'll try my best," you sighed, leaning back onto the pillow.
"Thank you," he gave your good hand a squeeze before heading back towards the door where Luke was waiting.
"Luke," you called before they could leave. He stopped in his tracks, inquisitively making eye contact with you to show you he was listening, "don't let him get lost in that big brain of his, ok?"
"I won't. Rest up, we need you back at full strength as soon as possible."
"Thank you," you whispered after him as he followed Spencer out of the hospital. You tried to get some sleep, but it didn't come easy as your brain tried to make sense of the events that had transpired the past few days. First Spencer's mom was taken, Spencer was released from prison, then Cat Adams showed up claiming to be pregnant with his baby, and now Scratch had literally ran a truck into your team- your family. It was a lot for one person to process, especially since your brain had taken an unwanted break from reality earlier in the evening.
You managed to doze off for a little bit, flitting in and out of sleep until exhaustion finally took over and pulled you deeper into its throws.
You were woken by a nurse who cheerfully informed you that you could go home. Will came to collect you and held your bag of belongings for you when he walked you out to his car.
He answered all of your questions to the best of his ability and even offered to bring you back to his home when you expressed how much you didn’t want to go back to your apartment.
Henry and Michael were enough to distract you from your reeling worries and keep you grounded while you waited to hear from the rest of the team. You let the boys draw on your cast, leaving the hard plaster full of colorful artwork.
As you were eating breakfast that Will had made, your phone finally rang.
“Emily is safe, Scratch is dead,” Spencer said when you answered.
“Thank goodness,” you sighed.
“Are you at home?” He asked next.
“No, I’m at JJ and Will’s. I wasn’t ready to be alone just yet,” you told him honestly.
“How’s your head?”
“Clearer now that I’ve gotten some sleep and some food. How’s yours?”
“Still getting back up to speed. Why don’t I pick you up and we can have a quiet day with my mom? We could all use the rest.”
“Sure, Spence. I’d love to spend some time with your mom.”
When Spencer came to pick you up, you noticed a soft smile playing on his lips when he saw the way you were curled up on the couch watching tv with the boys tucked into your side.
You let them greet him first, they hadn’t seen him since before he had gone to prison. Once they released him he finally wrapped his arms around you tightly.
Your relationship had never been very physical. In fact, you could count the number of times you had hugged Spencer Reid on one hand. Standing in Will and JJ’s entryway, though, embracing him for the first time since he had been arrested, you didn’t want to let go.
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Ship: Fem!Bau Reader x Spencer Reid
Summary: The team finds out about yours and Spencer’s relationship.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Mentions of food, mentions of cases,
A/N: The ending took ME by surprise, I didn’t know what was going to happen until it just ... happened, so I hope that plays as organic to you! As always, please let me know what you think!!
This one is for the anon on the suggestion sheet that requested more team interactions!!!
Part of the A-Z of Spencer Reid series, but works as a stand alone :)
“Hotch,” You say, popping your head round your boss’ door, “Could I talk to you for a minute?”
He puts down the pen he’s holding, hands crossing over in his lap. He raises an eyebrow at you, just barely, and the look on his face has you sure he already knows what you’re about to say.
“Could I get uhm-” You start.
He interrupts, opening his top drawer and pulling out two sheets of paper, “One for you and one for Reid.”
You're not surprised that he knows, using your annual leave to take care of him after the anthrax scare was far from subtle. However you are surprised he's so casual about it, you'd half been expecting some kind of lecture, something he seems to sense.
“I might have to keep you separated in the field. And if your relationship starts affecting your performance at work that’s something we’ll have to discuss,” He says, standing up to hand the papers to you, “So far I’ve seen no cause to be concerned.”
Highest praise you’re going to get.
Nodding, you accept the forms off him and move to leave his office.
“____” The way he says your name is too flat to be a question.
You turn to face him anyway.
The corners of his mouth quirk upwards in an almost smile, “I’m glad you have each other.”
You and Spencer wait until the administrative work is taken care of which, given the perpetually stressed nature of one Erin Strauss, only takes two days.
Following that, your relationship is all above board. It’s a gloomy Monday morning, and you’re just putting the car in park when Spencer clears his throat.
“How are we going to tell them?” He asks.
It’s a question you’d been putting off. Neither of you wanted it to be anything too grand or too big of a deal. You’d considered your options thoroughly: A dinner? That felt too much. A text to the groupchat? That felt too minor. However, extending your hand across the console? That feels just right.
He smiles, accepting it.
“You might have to let go to get out of the car,” He says.
“Nope, you have to clamber over to my side,” You tease.
He raises his eyebrows, “I’m not sure I have the agility.”
“Oh so you wait until our relationship is federally approved to drop that nugget of information?”
“I'm sorry if my credentials have been misleading."
"I'll forgive you," You tell him, "On one condition."
He quirks a brow. You giggle, puckering your lips. With no hesitation, he leans across. Using his free hand for leverage, he grips your cheek, deepening the kiss. He tastes like mint and coffee and happiness and you're lost in it, completely wrapped up in the feel of anything that isn't him.
Until there’s a rap on the window. You jolt apart to find Emily smirking, "Oh there's no way to play that off."
Emily is grinning all the way to the bull-pen. Surprisingly, she doesn’t interrogate you, but you have a sneaky feeling she’s saving that for in front of everyone, where it’ll be most opportune. Spencer holds your hand, rubbing small circles on the back of your knuckles.
Really, it’s kind of exciting.
You’re in the lift when Emily checks her watch, “7:54,” She muses, “Six minutes before we’re technically on bureau time.”
By the smirk on her face, you know your sneaky feeling was right.
The elevator door pops open with a ding. It’s just your luck that everybody is in early: Hotch leaning against Rossi’s desk as he speaks to him, Garcia engaged in a very animated conversation with JJ and Morgan. Emily clears her throat, and they all, in turn, scoot to see what she wants.
She steps to the side, revealing Spencer’s hand clasped in yours.
Spencer squeezes your hand three times, and you return it.
“Oh my babies!” Garcia squeals, balling her hand into tiny fists and shaking them, “I knew it!!”
Of course you did
“Well well well,” Derek grins, pulling out his phone and checking it, “Looks like you all owe me some money.”
Rossi shakes his head, “No way, this has been going on for months now.”
J.J looks at you for confirmation.
“Well technically, we made it official three days ago.”
Emily laughs out a victorious ‘ha’, “I had last week!”
Spencer shakes his head, “What exactly did you bet on?”
“When you two would actually get together,” J.J confirms, “We made the bet at the Christmas party after you left.”
“Yeah, that was when everybody else finally caught on,” Emily says, rolling her eyes.
“Finally caught on?” You ask.
“Well, we’ve all known for a while-” J.J starts.
Morgan cuts her off, “I think I called it first.”
“You so did not!” Emily objects, crossing her arms.
“I called it first day!” Morgan insists, “I said to Spencer, oh look, pretty girl got you a coffee.”
“That does not count as calling it,” Emily huffs, “Calling it means realising that one of them liked the other.”
“Well I noticed in December,” J.J says, “When I came back for the Christmas party, ____ shouted out for Reid when she fell.”
Morgan laughs, “You’re playing with profilers JJ.”
She rolls her eyes. Something in your heart pulls, and you squeeze Spencer’s hand again. He inches closer to you, not holding you, but just letting his body rest against yours. He seems amused by the theatrics, although something in his smile tells you he already knows all of this.
Of course he knew.
“I realised in September,” Rossi says proudly, “___ got him socks when he ran out.”
“Oh please!” Garcia cuts in, “It was obvious way before that, what about last year when ___ went on that date and Reid stress ate that box of doughnuts?”
Rossi shrugs with a roll of his eyes, conceding a tad ungraciously.
“That was June,” Spencer supplies helpfully, blushing a bit.
You exchange a glance, murmuring while keeping your mouth as still as possible so nobody else hears, “You ate a box of doughnuts?”
His voice is a squeak, “There were only four.”
“May,” Emily announces, interrupting before you got the chance to tease him, “He stole two of the files off her desk when she went to the bathroom. Right after we got back from an eight day case. He voluntarily stayed an extra hour.”
Your look at him is a bit accusing, and he shrugs as if to say: so what?
Your eyes narrow a bit, but your private conversation is again interrupted, this time by Morgan.
“Obviously none of you are as good as your jobs as me,” He says, grinning widely, “Do you not remember last year when we got called down to Florida over spring break? That beach chick asked for his number and I thought ____ was gonna explode.”
It’s your turn to look embarassed, especially because you can see Spencer’s smile out of the corner of your eye, “Well she wasn’t even very helpful.”
“That doesn’t count, the rest of us weren’t there,” Emily objects, “So that means I win.”
Hotch cuts in, a tiny smile quirking the corners of his mouth, “Who assigned them together in the field?”
Emily turns to face Hotch, eyebrows raised, “You did this on purpose?”
He shrugs, looking serious, “I made a series of tactical choices I thought were most beneficial to the team. Including choosing her for the team.”
That’s all he says, smiling again as he rises off Rossi’s desk, “You have two minutes before I’ll be dumping a pile of consults on all of your desks so, enjoy it.”
You look up at Spencer, noting that he’s wearing the same mildly confused expression as you. Hotch the matchmaker? A flood of questions surround you, but it doesn’t even matter. This is your found family, and standing there, holding hands with your boyfriend, you’re happy to answer all the intrusive questions in the world. They’re asking because they love you, after all. Well, that and the fact they’ll never pass up any opportunity to tease you mercilessly.
Technically you’re on bureau time, but since you’ve offered to make coffee for everyone, nobody does anything but smirk when you stop by Spencer’s desk to ask if he wants to accompany you to the kitchenette.
“It’s interesting how everybody noticed it at different times,” He observes, “I wonder if that says something specific about how their perception skills are altered in their comfort environment.”
There’s something about Spencer making hypotheses’ about your relationship that makes your heart ache.
Favourite kind of hypothesis for him to make
“I called it first day,” You tell him, getting your coffee mugs out of the cupboard, “I called it for me first day anyway. It was um, it was when I asked you to show me to the file room.”
His face pulls into a strange confused expression, obviously running over the same memory as you are.
“You seemed really nervous-”
“I was really nervous,” He admits.
You smile, continuing, “Well yeah. You seemed really nervous, and you were telling me facts about Quantico. You were so focused that you tripped and fell on your shoe laces. And I just, I knew then that you were so endearing I’d end up falling in love with you.”
His mouth opens, then closes, “Falling in love with me?”
You fluster a bit, wincing internally as you realise what you’ve just said.
His arms are on your waist in no time at all, “Look at me,” He murmurs, and you do. Turning around to face him, seeing his eyes filled with complete sincerity. Joy. You could sustain your blood sugar for a week on the sweet honey happiness of them.
“I realised on our first case, that first week,” He says, clearing his throat before continuing, “I was um. That whole week, I think I was realising. When I got interrupted, I was talking about honey badgers, and I got cut off. And you came up to me and asked me to finish what I was saying,” He smiles, and it’s so sweet it’s almost painful, “And then we were on the jet home, and everyone else was asleep. It was when you asked me to show you how to play chess. You were so proud of yourself whenever you got a move right. I just, I knew then that I was going to fall in love with you.”
“Fall in love with me?” Your voice is breathy, barely above a whisper.
“I am in love with you,” His voice matches it.
“I’m in love with you too.”
Morgan’s rap on the door makes you jolt, “Am I gonna be scarred for life if I open this door?”
You squeak, “No!”
Spencer moves his hands off your waist, fiddling with the rest of the coffee mugs. You start to pour out the coffee, grateful for the way he presses his lips into a thin-lipped smile to keep himself composed. It’s hard to keep yourself from giggling, with sheer happiness and joy.
He’s in love with me.
I’m in love with him.
“If this is how long it’s gonna take for me to get coffee from now on, I’ll have to start making my own,” Morgan says, accepting the cup you hold out for him, “We have a case by the way, Hotch just got the call.”
You sigh, “Be right out.”
He exits the room, affording you one tiny moment.
A tiny moment that you take to, even though you’re technically on bureau time, perch up to your tiptoes and press the lightest of kisses to your boyfriend’s mouth. Your boyfriend who you are in love with. Your boyfriend who is in love with you.
Tagslist: @ssa-m-187 @altsvu @reidingmelodies @muffin-cup @reidscanehand @bvttercupbby @jessicarabbit09 @lukewearingbeanies @lady-anon-x @aperrywilliams @southsidemistress @a-broken-pact @jjongs-tae-and-biscuits @reidsnose @amesandpineapples @spaghettinudes @quillanpie @blue-space-porgs @lhgublereid @ateez-star @takeyourleap-of-faith @mercy-burning @sapphic-prentiss @joyclubie @random-human-person @averyhotchner @cat-power6 @junipersenvelope @blameitonthenight21 @mggsprettygirl @spookydrreid @brown-eyedshell @underscorecourt @drspencerreidd @lady-loves-a-lot @spencerreidat3am @singularityjc @rem-ariiana @laurakirsten0502 @starsandshit90 @spoonielivingfree @kathrynisadogperson @geostarr @shesalatesh @cyanide-mustard @youhaveabadconnection @therealchickenjoe @sunlitspence @spencerreid9 @s5spencerreid @drspencerreidd @ssavanessa22 @laurnrnlds @death-becomes-her @amoeebaa
OKAY i know there were some problems with the tagslist (i honestly don’t understand how this happens because i swear i update it) but everybody whose let me know they want to be on here should be! if you aren’t, please shoot me a message!!!
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This Didn’t End Well
Pairing; Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary; everything seemed prettier than rose petals until the reality of their job hit them hard
A/N; uh, death. sorry. and i don’t think this was written that well but yk
There was just something about her. Maybe it was her confidence, maybe it was the way she carried herself, or maybe it was the way she'd walk into the room with her head held high that'd catch everyone's attention. It could have been her smile, the way it'd twinkle in her eyes no matter how hard she tried hiding it... or could it have been her compassion, her selfless priorities and preferences.
There was just something about Y/N that caught Spencer Reid's eyes the day Jason Gideon introduced her to the BAU. In all honesty, it could have been the shirt that made him pay extra attention to her. The way he could practically trace his gaze over her bra straps and the way the first two buttons were undone... yet to top it all off, it looked completely formal. No one ever complained.
It was safe to say everyone's jaw dropped, including Aaron Hotchner's, when she worked on her first case with them. With one look at the pictures and a couple of questions answered by JJ, she was able to figure out everything.
"The victims are all the same age, birthdays are days apart, all women with dark hair and blue eyes. The un-sub is probably looking for revenge of some sort. Maybe a recent breakup or a broken engagement. And since he can't kill his stresser, he's taking his rage out on similar-looking women. There's no sight of forced entry, so he either was invited in or he stalked them and knew his way in. Based on the crime scenes, you can tell that he's playing out a fantasy. The candles and cake can mean that he's recreating an anniversary. It makes sense because each murder takes place exactly a month apart, always on the fifteenth. It's the tenth today, so we have five days to find this man."
Though Hotch was impressed, he still looked at her like she'd just committed a crime. Yet, Y/N wasn't intimidated at all. She just raised her brows at him and waited for him to say something while everyone else just stared and blinked.
"What can you tell us about the un-sub?"
"Most probably caucasian, male in his mid-thirties and is crazy. Works a common job. Maybe has hallucinations or has been admitted to a psychiatric facility before. It's also likely that he's a psychopath or even, sociopathic. I mean, if anyone had seen anybody looking suspicious, he'd be in jail by now. And if he was invited into these women's homes, he must be a smooth talker."
They might as well have released their profile right then and there.
It was apparent, within the first week of her working in the BAU, that she was always on top of her game. She was the best at what she did and quickly became a permanent asset to the team. Yet as much as Spencer wished she'd stay forever, he also wanted her to leave.
Whenever he was around Y/N, competition would follow. The pair were always debating when they were paired up during the case, either pushing each other to ask the interview questions or betting on who'd be man enough to shoot the first bullet.
It was dangerous to act like egotistical teenagers while out on the field... but according to Hotch, they'd always do the best work around each other. So the pair accepted it and each other. Spencer accepted it since working with her somehow satisfied him because, despite the plethora of arguments, she still cared. She was willing to put aside her ego and listen to his rambling in hopes of finding something new to work off of.
Y/N, on the other hand, had no complaints, to begin with. She had always liked working with Spencer, claiming that she had fun arguing with him and that it was a nice ego boost when she'd prove him wrong. Spencer just rolled his eyes when she grinned at him.
As time passed and Y/N's skills seemed to excel more than anyone could imagine, Spencer learned a lot about her- and it wasn't just from profiling her. Sure, he learned that she was defensive, empathetic and driven the first day he met her, but it was her little habits that he liked paying most attention to.
Like, for example, she always chewed gum- which told him that it was her way of silently relieving stress. Even when she was out on the field, chasing a killer with a gun, she always had gum lapping between her teeth. It was a must; there's no Y/N without gum.
When Garcia wasn't the one making inappropriate jokes, Y/N always had one ready to pull out of her sleeve. It made sense why she got along with everyone. She had this calming aura around her that'd distract them yet have their heads looking for the right answer. She was a psychology major, it made sense.
It wasn't until two years later that Spencer would bond with Y/N. It was the night Tobias Hankle had abducted him and maybe it was the wrong time for Spencer to seek out attention when he didn't need it but it was Y/N. She was kind enough to show up at his door in the middle of the night with a pillow of her own and a bag with rented movies, snacks and popcorn.
Spencer didn't know how to decline her offer, mostly because he didn't want to. So that night, they were huddled up on his couch while talked about every stupid theory she believed in about the universe to distract him and Spencer listened to her like she was telling him a bedtime story. Well, it wasn't the first time he'd heard these theories... he just found that he liked it when she explained them.
And after that night, Spencer wished that she'd never leave.
Y/N quickly became Spencer's best friend and neither of them had seen it coming. Hell, the only thing they had in common was their job. But it could have been their differences that brought them closer together. While Spencer could enlighten her on things she'd always wanted to learn about, Y/N brought a light of excitement into his life.
Somewhere along the line, Spencer had developed... feelings. He hated to admit it, he didn't want to either but he was infatuated. He was infatuated by the way she'd laugh or by the way she'd argue with Emily about which food to order and he was infatuated by her hair and lips and nose and eyes. Then came the rest of her body but he'd rather not get into it.
There were times when Spencer almost felt guilty for liking her because she was his colleague, his best friend, someone who he talked to every day and she was walking around having no idea what she was capable of doing to his weak little heart. Yet, he wasn't really afraid.
Because there was a level of security between them that they knew they wouldn't let each other slip away and that was all they ever needed from each other. And he knew she'd never leave. No matter what. Because she'd rather work it out rather than completely dissociate but... why? What was it that drove her to be that way?
So, while Spencer contemplated more about his best friend and her way of life, Y/N was having a mundane conversation with the rest of the team over drinks. The music was loud and the smell of alcohol was thick and Spencer was able to ignore all of it.
Yet he remembered how the conversation jumped from his godson to JJ's soon to come wedding and Rossi's spaghetti and somehow they were pent up on talking about each other's love life which, to which Spencer would usually argue, was inappropriate. But they weren't at work, and they were all tipsy.
"How long has it been since you were laid?" Garcia wiggled her brows and leaned against Derek, both their eyes trained on Y/N like she was the answer to all their issues in life.
Spencer's ears twitched when he heard Y/N's wavering hum and his eyes were unwantedly drawing to where her fingers were placed, tapping against the base of her skin. "I think a year." Both Y/N and Spencer flinched when she replied. While Y/N was embarrassed by her answer, Spencer had been put off by the idea of her sleeping with someone else and he didn't even know and he wondered why she never mentioned it because a year ago, they were still best friends, as they are now. But she didn't tell him.
"That's not that bad," Derek grinned widely as he approached Spencer, heavy arm wrapping around his shoulders while a teasing grin spread on his lips. "I bet Pretty Boy here is still inexperienced."
Spencer's heart dropped when Y/N laughed with the rest of the group because it was embarrassing.
"I would agree with you but please tell me he's wrong Spencer," Y/N tried her best not to choke on her drink or her laughter and Spencer crinkled his nose for a brief second.
"He's wrong," was a good enough answer for them to stick to and Derek was stumbling towards Garcia again and Y/N was wiggling her brows at Spencer.
To be fair, Spencer had never talked about his sex life with her either. He'd brought up Lila once, the actress that he'd ended up making out with in the middle of a swimming pool, but beyond that, he refused to discuss it. Y/N respected that, and though her curiosity ate at her head, she never asked him.
"Pretty Boy isn't as innocent as I thought," Y/N was fanning into his ear, face close enough for her lashes to brush against his temple- yet her warmth left as fast it came because Derek and Garcia were laughing again and JJ and Emily were asking about their topic of conversation.
As frustrating as the conversation had been, nothing frustrated him more than her fingers drumming against his hand as she talked to Emily and JJ about some gossip Garcia had graced them with and though Spencer was hearing everything, he wished she'd stop talking and stop tapping her fingers on his hand.
Every touch ignited something in him, and he couldn't tell if it was good or bad. It wasn't the first time she'd touched him. There was the occasional hug or high-five and it wasn't uncommon for her to reach for his hand when she was stressed and she'd trace every dip and curve and nerve that she could find until both of them were calm.
But this time was different because she wasn't stressed.
"You alright, Spencer?" she asked when JJ and Emily were caught up in their conversation. Spencer simply nodded, lips disappearing into his mouth as his gaze stayed on his untouched drink.
"I don't buy it," she continued and now, her hand was placed flat on his, telling him that she was ready to listen to whatever it was that was bothering him.
Spencer, for the first time in a long time, declined her offer to talk and that shocked her. Y/N stared at him with a gaped mouth until Spencer told her that everything was fine. "You still want me to come over for the night?" to which she nodded and looked away and Spencer excused himself to the washroom.
Spencer was driving and it was around one in the night and the street lights were shining bright and the stars were twinkling. Instead of staring at the stars like she normally would, she was staring at Spencer, confused and not admiring because his jaw was clenched and his knuckles were white.
"You're mad at me."
"Nice work, Sherlock."
Y/N rolled her eyes and groaned. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you."
"Thanks for the tip."
She wondered why he was even sleeping over at her place when he was angry. He was angry at her and she didn't feel guilty because she didn't know what it was that bothered him. She stayed angry for the moment, bugging him every once in a while to check if he was finally ready to talk.
But by the time they got to her apartment, they were shouting at eat other and the door slammed behind them and the windows shook and Y/N was gripping the roots of her hair trying to get Spencer to just spit it out.
"I thought you were smart!" Spencer was pointing fingers and loosening his tie at the same time. His jacket was thrown on the couch and Y/N's shoes had landed in the kitchen.
"Spencer, I don't know what I did!" she groaned and whined and even begged of him to tell her and when she thought he'd finally tell her, he was speaking in riddles.
"You of all people should know that there are some things I don't like to talk about because it's embarrassing."
Y/N's eyes were softening and her arms fell limp to her sides as she realised what he was talking about and it all seemed so immature to her. Instead of starting a whole fight, he could have just told her but he was expecting more and she should have realised.
Because she of all people should know.
"Was this about what Derek said?" she let out a breath as Spencer nodded and clenched his jaw again. "Spence-"
"It isn't just about that!" he insisted. "It's about you!"
Her brows furrowed and guilt was creeping into her chest like a pest and she, once again, didn't know what it was. She'd been normal around him the entire night and she was tipsy. If anything, she was on her best behaviour.
"What about me?" she dared. Spencer gulped. "Spit it out," she demanded and his hands were buried in his hair.
"You- it's you," he whined. "It's you, you're Y/N and no matter what you do, I'm always mesmerized. And I can't help it and it eats me from the inside out because you're my best friend and it's not okay and... and," he was at a loss of words just like Y/N and she was dumbfounded because the last thing she was expecting was for him to declare his love for her.
"And you're so excited to be around and you do something to me that makes me feel so much better and I get scared that you'll leave and I could never live with myself but then I remember that you're Y/N and you never leave so why... why am I so scared?"
By the time Spencer was done speaking, Y/N was taking cautious steps towards him, eyes glassier than before, breath heavier than before. "I'm sorry that I made you uncomfortable before," she whispered.
Spencer was looking at her with wide, terrified eyes and he was sure he'd stay that way unless she said something that'd make him feel better. His heart raced just as fast as the wheels in his head did and as Y/N's hand fell on his cheek, his breath was caught in his throat.
"I really am sorry," she soothed. "But guess what?"
That night, Y/N and Spencer had wound up sitting on her bay window, bare bodies covered with a thin blanket while she admired the stars and he blabbered out everything he knew about the constellations and she listened to him. She liked listening to him.
Spener didn't feel guilty about playing with the straps of her bra or dribbling his fingers down her stomach because she liked it, she allowed it, she wanted it and Spencer enjoyed it as much as she did. And he didn't feel guilty about whispering the words 'I love you' because she said it back and he didn't feel guilty about burying his lips in her neck or her hair because she kissed him back.
When the pair walked into the bullpen the next morning, everyone had noticed the difference because they were smiling wider. Spencer was happier than usual and Y/N was more talkative than usual and Garcia was the first to find out that Y/N and Spencer were together.
Then Derek was teasing them about it and Emily was laughing in surprise and JJ was passing them glances and Rossi and Hotch were just... congratulating them. Y/N never understood what it was that sent a buzz through everyone with the newfound information but considering it involved Pretty Boy, she accepted it.
It wasn't until later in the day when she overheard JJ and Emily talking that she laughed.
"Spencer has a girlfriend," JJ fawned and her expression was equally filled with surprise and pride.
"And it's Y/N," Emily chuckled while stacking away papers. "You'd think someone like her would want someone more...," she didn't have to finish her sentence because JJ already knew what she meant.
"I know," JJ placed a hand on her hip. "Did you see it coming?"
"Sorta," she shrugged.
"Really?" JJ was perplexed and cringed at herself. "I didn't."
"They're always around each other and they're a perfect match. They need each other," Emily offered as Derek walked past them, holding to cups of coffee and a wide cocky grin.
"I saw it coming," he crooned and walked away.
A year passed, just like that, and nothing changed except Y/N and Spencer were growing stronger by the day. No one would change anything about it because they were getting better at the job and it wasn't like BAU's favourite couple were distracting each other. They knew their priorities and they never once slipped. Hotch would say they were getting better.
Of course, by then everyone had figured out the little habits they had like tapping each other's feet when as a way of communication or giving each other different glances depending on the situation. They were once caught holding hands but it was such an innocent gesture that everyone just laughed it off.
Spencer remembered thinking to himself if they only knew what happens behind closed doors.
Spencer had moved into her apartment soon because Y/N refused to leave her apartment. She said there were too many strings tied to the place, too many pictures to take down and too many memories to let go of and Spencer understood. He knew how attached she could get for mundane things and this was no different.
It just felt right, to live with her and be around her every waking second of their day and to end it by falling asleep in each other's arms. It just felt right, as though this was home. And they wouldn't have it any other way.
Like most nights, Y/N was laying on their bed, head on Spencer's chest as his arms wrapped around her shoulders, hands holding up a copy of The Great Gatsby as he read aloud for her. It was a nightly routine, to read something before falling asleep and Spencer knew how much she loved listening to his voice as he read.
With the occasional comment from Y/N and the occasional kiss on the head from Spencer, they'd spend hours bonding over something they both enjoyed and this night was no different. Except, this time, Y/N wasn't feeling very normal.
Well, she wasn't sick, she was completely fine and she knew that because Spencer insisted on going to a monthly doctor's check-up. No, she was feeling weird because there was a rock weighing down on her stomach and her throat kept drying up-but she wouldn't dare tell Spencer. She wouldn't want to worry him.
When Y/N could feel herself falling asleep, Spencer was ready to call it a night but their moment of peace was quickly ruined when Y/N's phone rang- Rossi.
She didn't even have to answer to know that they were being called for work and the pair were groaning out of bed, utterly frustrated about the fact that it was the middle of the night and they were really hoping for a good night's sleep.
"Talk about timing," Spencer heard her groan as she buttoned up her shirt and that was the first time he ever heard her complain about work.
She never complained about work.
After JJ had briefed them and after they were individually handed case files, Y/N found herself sitting across Spencer and Derek on the jet, examining each picture ever so carefully, trying to scrape out every detail they could find and granted, they were doing a pretty good job.
But Y/N kept tutting every five minutes, groaning about something even Spencer couldn't figure out.
"Something feels off," she sloshed her gum between her teeth, tilting her head as the rock in her stomach buried deeper.
"What feels off?" Derek glanced between her and the images sprawled in front of them and Spencer instinctively tapped his foot against hers.
"I don't know," she passed Spencer a solemn smile and crinkled her nose. "Doesn't feel like this is gonna end well," she said and Derek softly took her hands in his. Spencer stared at her concerned, fingers finding their way to land on her thigh as a way of comfort.
"It's gonna be fine, Gumdrop," Derek promised and they were back to profiling and all the while, Spencer drew comforting circles on her knee.
They didn't understand how their case had gone awry so quickly. One minute, Y/N and Emily were chasing down their killer and then they were being knocked right in the head unconscious and were missing and it took twelve hours for Garcia to track them down and by the thirteenth house, Derek and Hotch were yelling "FBI! Drop your weapon!"
And Spencer was untying Y/N and Emily and he cringed at the fact that Y/N had been bashed left and right while Emily escaped with a couple of scratches and bruises and-
She was unconscious. Y/N was unconscious with blood gushing out of her waist and her shoulder bone was sliced and god knew what other injuries she held and Spencer sobbing and he was yelling for an ambulance and Emily helped him as much as she could with trembling hands while Rossi and JJ were calling for medical help.
"She kept going at him- she kept trying to hurt his ego so he'd hurt her and not me- I, I don't know- I kept telling her to stop but he gutted her and shot her and I kept yelling and-" Emily was going batshit crazy by the time they reached the hospital and Spencer held on to her like his life depended on it.
When they reached the hospital, Emily and Hotch took full responsibility for her. Because they knew her family was estranged from her and they knew she had no contact with anyone but them and the only family she had was them. So they gave in their names and personal phone numbers and ordered the front desk to call them for only formalities.
If it wasn't for Derek, Hotch would have pulled his gun out to threaten the staff.
Emily was still consoling Spencer. He clung to her arm, face buried in her shoulder as he kept repeating: "Why is she like this? Why does she risk it?" Emily couldn't even feel bad because she asked herself the same questions.
All Y/N ever knew was to protect the people she loved and she called the BAU her family... they shouldn't have expected anything else but it was concerning. It was concerning because they knew she was being someone she never had. They thought about what exactly they could do to ever make it up to her.
JJ and Rossi, though, stood right outside the Emergency Room because Spencer told them to. He couldn't possibly lay eyes on her when he was panicking and when she was in critical condition- seeing her hurt dug a stick through his heart and it burned. So while JJ and Rossi paid close attention to Y/N, they simultaneously dug through her phone to find the numbers of her friends from high school or college or anything.
She'd mentioned a best friend before and they were determined to find whoever it was that could make her happy.
All those years ago, when Garcia was shot, Y/N was the first to bust through the hospital doors and ask about, "Penelope Garcia, she'd been shot and she was admitted thirty minutes ago." So when Garcia heard what happened and when Derek refused to share details with her on the phone, her first instinct was to cry. She cried and wept and almost mourned until Derek told her to just calm down and hope for the best.
"Babygirl, just come down to the hospital."
And she did. When she found the rest of the team anticipated for an answer from the doctors, Garcia found Derek and held onto his arm for dear life, hoping and praying like he told her to. And she kissed Spencer on the head and pulled Emily in for a hug and then she was back to sobbing with Derek.
"Do you know anything? Anything at all?" she tried.
Derek nodded and crossed his arms, almost solely looking at his feet as he thought about the words forming in his head. Garcia was growing impatient and she was ready to threaten him but then he sighed and she gaped for an answer.
"She lost a lot of blood, Garcia." he heaved. "The guy messed with her shoulder bone, shot her thrice, gave her a punctured lung and gutted her in two places. I don't know how she hasn't broken a bone but-"
"Just get to the point!" Garcia snapped at him with pleading, wide eyes and the rate of her heart beating was faster than the speed her fingers moved across a keyboard. She couldn't possibly listen to all the horrible things that happened to her beloved.
"We don't know if she's gonna make it."
It would be three in the night when the surgery got over and Y/N was still unconscious with all the sedatives pumping in her body. Derek, being the only one awake, made sure to request a personal room for Y/N and he made sure to ask for the best care available.
Spencer was jumping awake when he heard wheels rusting past him and he rubbed his eyes and patted his shirt down and followed Y/N into the room with Derek and Emily. Hotch, JJ, Rossi and Garcia were passed out on the couches and when Derek woke them up to let them know that Y/N made it out, they were begging to pile into the room.
Derek stopped them, though.
"You need to go home and freshen up," he told them. "I'll call you when she's conscious," and he didn't let anyone protest.
Finally, around two hours later, as Spencer held Y/N's hand in his while dozing off to sleep and while Derek was recounting the conversation he had with her on the jet and while Emily was already fast asleep, Y/N fluttered her eyes open.
She was finally awake, and her first instinct wasn't even to look around the room. She just kept calling out for Emily and the shrill of her soft voice was enough to wake them up. Then, she was holding Spencer's hand with an iron grip, and he wondered if she was even supposed to have so much strength in her after a three-hour surgery.
Derek called for a doctor and Spencer was trying his best to calm her down but she only seemed to regain her sanity when she saw Emily standing above her, soft eyes telling her that everything was alright and supple hands brushing her hair away from her face.
Emily had a bandaid across her left cheek and bandages wrapped around her wrist, a small scratch across her neck and that was pretty much it- Y/N sighed.
"You're okay," Y/N smiled so softly, it was almost minuscule enough for them to miss it. She was squeezing Spencer's hand now, tracing her index on the vein below his thumb and Spencer knew that she was alright now.
"Of course I am," she said. "Thanks to your dumb ass," she continued to add and Y/N found enough strength to chuckle.
Derek appeared beside her with a proud smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he said: "Gumbrop can laugh now, can she?" and Emily slapped his arm and the nurses and doctor finally appeared and did their routine check-up, just a formality.
"You thought you could get rid of me so easily," she teased and Spencer wondered how she was in the mood for making jokes while she was... in pain.
"You better not let us," Derek laughed.
"Of course not."
"I'm gonna call Hot-"
"Don't," Y/N was quick to stop Derek as he stepped out of the room. "Let them sleep," she insisted and soon, she was pressuring the three to go home, too.
Emily and Derek left within half an hour but Spencer stayed, right at her foot, hands still clasped around her. His eyes refused to leave her sight despite his stomach clenching as he saw the bandages around her shoulder and torso and legs. Her cheek sported a small bruise and a cut burned below her brow- she said she considered herself lucky.
Spencer would normally argue otherwise but... he'd let her win the argument this time.
"You never listen to me, do you?" Y/N smiled softly at him, hooded eyes struggling to stay focused on him under the dim light.
Spencer shook his head with a cheesy smile across his face and his lips buried into her hands, peppering kisses across her knuckles and she was laughing again- but so slowly and softly that Spencer thought she must have been in pain. Because he knew her entire thorax must have been hurting and it was a miracle that she was even awake.
Y/N started drifting to sleep and she whined for Spencer to sleep beside her, on the hospital bed. She didn't care if it'd hurt her or if it were too congested. She said she'd sleep at the very edge if it meant he'd be able to stay beside her-
Because it was either that or forcing him to go back home and sleep comfortably.
And Spencer refused to go home.
So despite his concern, he squeezed himself beside her and wrapped his arm around her bandaged waist and fell asleep with her.
Garcia and Derek were the first few to show up the next morning and Spencer had never left. It didn't take a profiler to figure it out. Garcia had brought in flowers and Y/N couldn't help but laugh and ask for a hug because it was adorable.
"I love red roses," Y/N cooed as Garcia played with the ends of her hair, a solemn smile spread across her lips.
"I know, sugar," she cooed back.
Rossi, Hotch and Emily showed up next, expressions a mix of relief and fear altogether. As much as it confused Y/N, she shrugged it off. Hotch didn't dare ask any questions and Rossi didn't dare bring up food around her because she wasn't allowed to each anything unauthorized and Y/N was the biggest foodie they knew.
"You know, I get why Garcia gets annoyed when we treat her like a victim," she remembered mumbling to Hotch and he brushed her off and deadpanned.
Finally, JJ had arrived with Henry and a bouquet of their own and despite the oohs and ahhs, Y/N was the first one that got to greet the little boy.
"You brought a bouquet, too?" she pouted and her arms extended as a basket of purple cyclamens landed on the table beside her. JJ held Henry close to her because Y/N couldn't carry him and everyone watched as they interacted.
"Henry picked it out," JJ smiled at her and her son.
"Really?" Y/N gasped. "How'd you know my favourite colour was purple?" she cooed and Henry giggled and wadded his arms. "I usually hate kids, but you're an exception," she whispered to him and JJ laughed smugly.
YY/N caught Hotch's gaze and she quickly bit her tongue. "And Jack, of course," and everyone burst into a fit of laughter.
You'd think that Y/N was getting better day by day but she wasn't. She got weaker, her chest pains were unbearable and her eyes were droopier and her voice was on the brink of disappearing.
She wrote a lot. She had a diary on her lap and a pencil between her fingers almost every day. She was writing if the BAU team wasn't there to keep her company and she was writing if she wasn't eating and she was writing if she was bored. That's all she knew to do these days.
Garcia came to visit a lot and Spencer usually stayed the nights. He'd read her The Great Gatsby or she'd just ask for him to have a normal conversation with him. Hotch brought Jack for a visit once, said that maybe the sight of hyperactive kids would boost her energy too.
It didn't. Nothing seemed to help.
The doctors said there was nothing they could do.
Y/N's friend came to visit, one day. Her and her family. Derek had even stopped them but then Y/N peeked through the windows and saw Brooke and she was almost squeaking with joy. Derek apologized to them and gave them their space.
It seemed like they were having a normal conversation one second, then the next, Brooke was screaming and her parents were telling her to calm down and Y/N was praying for her to not freak out because it wasn't a big deal. What wasn't a big deal?
And when they came out again, Brooke with flushed cheeks and her parents with solemn stares, Spencer approached them and shamelessly asked: "What did she tell you?"
"She told me not to say," Brooke sniffled. "You're... Spencer Reid?"
Nodding, Spencer stood with his head high and gulped. He didn't know his girlfriend talked about him to her friends. Well, it was quite inevitable but... he wasn't expecting it.
"I'm glad she met you," she whispered. "Back in high school, all she ever wanted to find love and she never stopped looking for it and... and now she has you."
A little while later, Spencer was wandering into her room. She was writing again, which he expected. She held a small smile, eyes twinkling under dim lights and he wondered what it could have been that drove her to be positive about this whole situation. It frustrated him, even.
"What do you write in that?" he nodded towards the diary and Y/N smiled coyly.
"You'll find out soon enough," she whispered as Spencer's fingers trailed across the foot of the bed.
"That doesn't sound as good as it's supposed to," Y/N didn't respond to him. She stared at her pen and bit her lip and easily his her emotion because she was tired. Spencer cringed. "That was some argument with your friend, huh?"
"Yeah," Y/N nodded ever so slightly and flashed a guilty smile but it was gone as soon as it came.
"What did you say?"
There was a long pause accompanied by his question, fear and anticipation hung in the air between them and Y/N... she didn't want to answer it. Tears pooled in her eyes and a quiet sob left her lips and she was suddenly aware of the people that stared through the window and the pleading eyes of her boyfriend.
She felt guilty, oh so guilty for even wanting to respond because, fuck, it wasn't going to end well. She knew it wasn't going to end well.
"Spencer," she whispered. "I'm dying."
And Spencer choked on air and his fear settled into every nook and cranny of his body and he couldn't take it anymore. The reality of it all was... it was real. Her words held so much truth that it knocked the sanity out of him and he was leaping towards Y/N and holding her limp body in his arms and she was sobbing into his shoulder because there was nothing either of them could do.
She'd slip into a coma two days later. The doctors said there's no telling what could happen. Hotch didn't say much. Derek was moody. Emily was beating herself up. JJ and Garcia were crying. Rossi was the only person that gave hope to the team.
Spencer went into autopilot.
Every day, he'd buy himself a coffee and a doughnut and spend the rest of his time in the hospital. They worked two cases in her absence and that... was pretty much it.
Brooke and Veronica came to visit two days after she slipped into a coma. Spencer didn't bother to greet them. They just sat there, pure silence, staring at the one person that normally knew what to do. But she wasn't even... here. They didn't have anything better to do. They didn't know what else to do.
So mostly, they just visited; talked to her about their day even if it felt pathetic to not get a response back.
Until finally, the end came too soon. She was right, this didn't end well.
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The Five Senses
Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader
Word Count: .4k
A/N: I have more WIPs than I know what to do with, but this popped into my head and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Long story short, here’s a quick ten minute drabble for you guys- happy Wednesday <3
He could tell you loved him each time you made him a cup of coffee the exact way he liked it. With each sip he found the peace and comfort that served as your signature, the joy he only felt when you were around expanding. Sugary sweet and oh so necessary, he was reminded of you as it made its way through his body, the warmth fully encapsulating his being the same way your hugs did.
He could tell you loved him with each gentle brush of your fingers on his skin. Whether he was scared, tired, or joyful your fingers were there to trace patterns on his skin and remind him to breathe. To remind him you were there, that you would always be there. The feel of your skin against his caused fireworks to ignite in his veins, reminding him to thank the powers that be for blessing him with someone as wonderful as you.
He could tell you loved him in the way you listened, your laughs and intriguing questions filling the space between his regaling tales. A lifetime of being told he was too much had etched permanent scars on his soul, lines of worry often slipping through his façade with the concern that one day, you would think he was too much, too. Those fears washed away with your gentle reassurance that it would never happen, your laughs and continuation of dialogue serving to remind him that you were his and he was yours, and he didn’t have anything to worry about so long as you were by his side.
He could tell you loved him in the way your joint home always smelled inviting and lived in and perfect. In the days before you, he would come home to a dreary apartment, serving only as a place to rest his head in the handful of hours he wasn’t away on a case or attached to the stack of paperwork on his desk. It wasn’t a home by any means, but then along came you and everything changed for the better. Now, he was greeted with the smell of vanilla and cinnamon each time he walked in the door, be it through the candles gracing the bookshelves or a recipe you were attempting to make. Whatever it was, one thing was for certain- it smelled like home.
Most importantly, he could tell you loved him in the way you looked at him like he was the center of the world, like he was the sole source of gravity keeping your feet on the ground.
He shouldn’t be surprised, really.
He looked at you the very same way.
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now look at this
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...watching crime shows with spencer would include...
Spencer... where do I even begin with this
you've always wanted to watch him react to some of the crime series on tv
you're a true crime geek but you also love shows like Law and Order, etc.
Spencer knows this and has a love hate relationship with that side of you
he knows you follow all of his cases really closely, partially bc you love him but mainly bc you want all the details
he's impressed by your surveillance skills
he's joked that you should join the team bc you're so dedicated
anyways, one day you were enjoying a rare day off with your boyfriend when you stumbled on an episode of Law and Order
"Spencerrrrrrrr. We should watch this."
"What? Baby, it's my day off. I don't really want to look at more crime scenes. Besides, these shows are wildly inaccurate."
after a few minutes of back and forth, he finally caves
the first two episodes are a full blown cringe fest, but by the third, Spencer starts to shut up and enjoy it
this is just the beginning
you thought he was only tolerating the show for you, but if he gets home before you, you notice that he scrambles to turn off the tv
it worries you at first, but then you and JJ have a phone call
"JJ, Spencer has been acting really strange lately, has he said anything to you?"
"Yeah he has, I caught him watching CSI at his desk and he hid it so fast when I came by. I thought it was something else for a minute."
there it was
now you wanted to try and catch him asap
one day he comes home from a case and you're dead tired, so you suggest watching some late night tv before hitting the hay
Spencer agrees, but has a slight air of disappointment when you settle for South Park instead of your usual crime shows
slowly, you start to "fall asleep" next to him on the couch
you must have been really convincing bc he grabs the remote after nudging you and frantically searches for something
as soon as you here the dialogue, you knew
"AH HA! I caught you red-handed Spencer!"
"Alright, you got me. But I can't help it. These make my job look so cool."
"Your job is cool. The whole reason I got into these shows was because we started dating."
and for the rest of the night, the two of you cuddled on the couch and fell asleep the descriptions of crime scenes and the sounds of sirens
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I Can't Help It If You Look Like an Angel
Summary: Spencer is not that kind of doctor, but he'll always come when Y/N needs him, even if germs are involved.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
Warnings: One cuss (sh!t), kisses, small insecurities
Word Count: 2.5 k (was not supposed to be this long but I'm a monster)
Author's Note: From this list (3, 12, 14) since I hit 300 followers! Thank you! This request is from @willowrose99 (look for the bold)
I Can't Help It If You Look Like an Angel
Spencer’s half done with his third book that weekend when his phone rang. A weekend spent in the company of Nietzsche and Sartre is, according to Spencer at least, a weekend well spent. He can feel the relaxation that settles in his bones come crashing down as he phone rings.
Thinking it’s Hotch calling the team in for an unexpected case, Spencer, lethargically, walks over to answer the phone. However, realizing the caller is not his boss pulling him away from a restful weekend, but Y/N, his heart rushes with a sudden urge of excitement.
“Y/N,” Spencer starts. He’s more than happy to have Y/N interrupt his weekend; they even made plans for a day out on Saturday at the new Anthropology museum that opened downtown. But all of Spencer’s made up plans fall in front of his face, as he hears Y/N’s quiet sniffles.
“Spencer, I’m so sorry to bother you. I know that you’re probably enjoying your rest, but I guess I have a cold. One of the kids at school, I suppose,” Y/N tells him in between sniffles. Her voice is scratchy and Spencer tries not to think about how his brain seems to short circuit at the way his name sounds.
“I’m coming over,” Spencer says, cutting her off. He doesn’t like doing that, in fact he hates when that happens to him, but right now he knows that Y/N is going to try her hardest to stop him from coming over.
“No Spence, it’s germs. You hate germs and I’m really gross and snotty and—”
“Stop, Y/N. Don’t say another word. I’m on my way” Spencer says. He feels a little guilty for hanging up on her, but he knows that if he stayed on the line any longer she’d end up convincing him that he didn’t need to rush over. There’s not a lot of people in this world that can convince Spencer to change his mind, and he’s pretty sure that Y/N is one of them.
Spencer walks into his bedroom, looking for some supplies like a man on a mission. He decides to pack a small bag for the next three days. He’s off from work anyway, why not spend that time making sure Y/N gets better. Spencer packs away a couple of sweaters, flannel pajama pants and two thermal shirts. In the back of his drawer he spots a very old college tee shirt.
A memory, an early memory with Y/N, comes flooding to the surface. They got caught in a rainstorm after a picnic in the nearby park. Spencer changed into his comfortable tee shirt and pajamas. He would never forget the look on Y/N’s face; the way the rain collected on her glasses and for some reason she had yet to wipe them off. She called him an angel. Maybe it’s for bringing her some warm clothes or maybe she’s slightly on edge from their dash into Spencer’s apartment. Whatever it was that made her call him an angel, Spencer never wanted her to call him anything else. Besides his own name, in that scratchy sick voice that made him feel a little guilty for liking so much.
Spencer collects some other things he needs for his stay. A toothbrush, toothpaste, a hair brush, and his hair serum that Y/N says she likes the way it smells. When she told him that, Spencer could hardly wait to buy the entire supply from the CVS down the street. He tucks away in this bag with a small smile.
Walking out of his apartment, Spencer locks up and makes his way down to his car. He glances at his watch, realizing that it only took him a couple of minutes to get ready for Y/N. Quicker than what it takes for him to get ready for an emergency case. Then again, tending to a sick Y/N seems much pleasurable then looking at served bodies and mangled limbs.
After making a pit stop at a small convenience store near Y/N’s apartment, Spencer pulls into the guest parking spot near her complex. He attempts to shoulder the weight of his go bag; even though he only packed a couple philosophy books, they are quite dense. In his hands, he grasps the grocery bags.
Y/N’s apartment, thankfully, is on the first floor. Spencer approaches the door and thinks twice about knocking or ringing the doorbell. The last thing he wants to do is wake a sick Y/N up. He rummages in his pants for his car keys. Attached to the keys is a cat keychain with a spare key to Y/N’s apartment. Balancing the groceries and his own bag, Spencer quietly attempts to open Y/N’s door without possibly waking her up.
Once he finally gets the door open, Spencer realizes all too late that a large orange cat guards the tight hallway entrance. Spencer Reid, though a genius in his own right, is completely aware of the fact that he has two left feet.
“Oh, Zelda! Oh shit!,” Spencer yells as he trips over Zelda, Y/N’s orange cat. Zelda, scared from the noise, leaps from her spot guarding the hallway to the kitchen. Spencer brushes himself from his fall and picks up the groceries that fell during his tumble.
“Zelda, baby?” Y/N calls from what sounds like the couch from the other side of the wall.
“Hi Y/N, it’s just me. It’s just Spencer,” He says, placing the oranges back in his canvas bag and on the kitchen table. He sees Y/N laying on the couch. Surrounded by a pile of crumpled tissues, she smiles weakly at Spencer. He walks over to her and like an involuntary muscle, she scoots her feet so Spencer has room to sit.
Spencer, setting the beg on the floor, tucks Y/N’s legs over his. He rests a comforting hand on her calf that’s covered by a worn quilt.
“You didn’t have to come Spencer. I’m really okay, I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t ghosting you this weekend,” Y/N explains. The TV has been left on, but on mute. The colorful lights illuminate Y/N’s face in her dimly lit apartment.
“Nonsense, Y/N. What are friends for,” Spencer offers, wondering beyond belief if he messed up calling them friends. Their relationship had been quite strange for the past couple of weeks. Intense moments of silence where Spencer thinks he’d have the time to memorize every freckle on her nose or small grazes from fingers to wrists where Spencer swears she left scars that he hope would never heal.
“Friends,” Y/N says quietly. Spencer, offering a tight lipped smile, leans forward to straighten the blankets under Y/N’s chin. He presses the back of his hand towards Y/N’s forehead, feeling her warm skin under his knuckles. He’s not sure if the heat he feels is from her bug or from the adrenaline coursing through his veins at being this close to Y/N.
“You’re hot,” Spencer says, not moving his hand from Y/N’s forehead. She, loving the way his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed, uncovers her arm from under the blankets and holds onto his wrist, keeping him attached to her forehead. Not that he’d want it any other way.
“So are you,” Y/N says. Spencer flinches and moves his hand from her forehead like she scorched his hand. In reality, her comment pierced his heart with hope.
“How much cough syrup did you take?” Spencer asks, choosing to face the situation with humor. There’s no way in the world Y/N could ever find him “hot” without the aid of cough syrup or another mind numbing substance.
“None,” Y/N says, reaching around to turn off the television. Spencer, getting increasingly nervous as the minutes of that intense silence passed, mentions to Y/N that he needs to put the groceries away.
“You really didn’t need to do that, Spence. I feel bad enough that you came here just to get sick yourself,” Y/N says. She’s folding the blankets that she was just resting under.
“I’ll always come when you need me to, Y/N” Spencer says, his breath catching and his eyes latching onto Y/N. He looks at her too long and there’s that intense silence again. Silence that is as thick as fog. Spencer can’t see facts through all the love that swallows him whole looking at Y/N.
“Maybe I knew that, and maybe that’s why I called you,” Y/N murmurs quietly, almost like she’s more scared to admit it to herself than to Spencer.
“Maybe,” Spencer says, breaking her gaze to put the half melted tub of green tea ice cream in the freezer.
“I think I’m going to shower, I need to put a fresh pair of pajamas on. I’ll be right out,” Y/N tells him, turning on her heel and leaving Spencer along with his thoughts.
Spencer can hear the water from the shower turn on. He estimates that Y/N will take at least 5 minutes in the shower, accounting for a margin of error, he supposes that he should start to heat the soup he bought from the store now, so it’s ready for Y/N when she’s done in the shower. Too bad all Spencer’s brain power is good for his statistics and numbers, not recipes and romance.
As it turns out, not a single statistic, nor a single digit could account for the possibility of Y/N walking out her bedroom, her hair damp and skin practically glowing, wearing Spencer’s worn college tee shirt. Spencer reckons that his eyes must have been bugging out from his head, given the spirited smile Y/N wears.
“I’m sorry, Spence, you know how much I love this tee shirt. I was putting some of your stuff away in your drawer and I saw this and I just couldn’t help myself. God it even smells a little bit like that hair gunk you wear,” Y/N rambles. She stands, leaning on her door frame, staring at Spencer who holds a wooden spoon that he used to stir the soup.
“You look like an angel,” Spencer says before he can stop himself. He just knows that his face is flaming red.
“You remember that?” Y/N asks, her voice light and hopeful. Spencer recognizes something in it. It’s the way his voice sounds when he talks to her, about her, with her. He can only hope that this is the way she always talks to him. He hopes with every fiber of his being that she uses that light and hopeful voice with him and only him.
“Of course Y/N. Then again, even if I didn’t have an eidetic memory, I’d still remember every single detail about you,”
“Now you’re making me feel guilty about stealing your shirt. You’re being all sweet and kind with me, it makes me fuzzy in the head,” Y/N confesses. She walks to her kitchen table, slowly closing the gap between her and Spencer.
“Keep it, it looks better on you anyway,” Spencer tells her. Her eyes grow big at his words and she presses her lips together like she’s holding something in. But something in her switches. Something in her grows a little sad and Spencer watches before his eyes as Y/N withdraws into herself.
“You can’t say that stuff to me, Spencer. You can’t say that stuff to me and not expect me to love you more than I already do,” Y/N says, her eyes shut and her lips pinched so tightly that it almost looks painful.
“Y/N,” Spencer starts, unsure what he’s supposed to say. His brain always seems to be playing catch up around Y/N. “Can I say it if I do love you back?”
Y/N eyes flutter open and narrow at Spencer, as if she’s reading him. Her eyes scan for any sign of a joke, of a prank, of Spencer trying to trick her. Maybe he should be upset that Y/N is doubting him, but all Spencer can feel is hatred for the person that made her doubt herself so much to not believe him.
“I’ve never felt what I feel when I’m with you, Y/N. No one else has made me feel truly me except you, Y/N,” Spencer professes, setting down the wooden spoon on the counter to reach Y/N’s hand.
“I never thought you’d feel the same way, Spence. I love you, God. That feels so good to say,” Y/N says, letting out a strained laugh. Spencer standing up next to her, places his hands on Y/N cheeks, and tries to lean in lower to kiss her, but Y/N’s finger on his lips stops his movement.
“I’m so sorry, I should have asked. I thought that this is-” Spencer stammers, suddenly very concerned that he violated Y/N in some way.
“Shhh, angel. It’s okay. I want you to kiss me. I really do, but I just want you to tell the facts on you getting sick if you kiss me,” Y/N says, not moving her finger from Spencer’s soft lips. He kisses her finger and grasps her hand with his.
“Sorry, I just had to do that,” Spencer smirks, “but to answer your question, unless you have a bad cough, and some of the respiratory mucus has made its way into your saliva, the cold virus will not be transmitted by kissing,”
“That’s good, so please kiss me, Spencer,” Y/N practically begs, eager for Spencer to leave pieces of him all over her. Eager for him to leave physical evidence of the marking he’s already left on her heart.
“You just might have to take care of me next week,” Spencer counters, peppering kisses over her jaw, knowing he’s purposely avoiding her lips.
“Spencer, I’m sick! Don’t tease me, just kiss me,” Y/N whines, and Spencer caves. He leans in slowly, meeting his lips to Y/N’s. It was the kiss that Spencer knew he’d be waiting for. A kiss that seals fate without a return address. A kiss that reminds him that he’s alive. A kiss that says forever and always.
Spencer, resting his chin against Y/N’s head, closes his eyes. The intense silence that existed between them, now is this light and hopeful air.
“Y/N, do you use my hair gunk?” Spencer asks. He can’t help but giggle with her and breathe in the familiar scent of her hair. He places three kisses on Y/N’s head and gently pushes her hair to the side to kiss down the back of her neck.
“I’m not sure what I love more, the smell of your hair gunk or the man that wears it,”
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What's love? - 505 interlude
THIS ISN'T A FIC. IT'S JUST SOME WORD VOMIT ON THE PRETTIEST BOY IN THE WORLD. I HOPE YALL LIKE IT.
ALSO I'M NOT PLANNING ON REREADING IT. I JUST WROTE IT. AND NOW IM POSTING IT (I CAN'T PUT MYSELF THROUGH THOSE FEELINGS AGAIN LOL).
In my brain this is an interlude to 505. A way of understanding the character within this concept, and not just as the TV show depicts him.
masterlist // 505 series
Spencer is a genius.
Spencer has an IQ of 187. He's a certified genius. He reads 20.000 words per minute. He has three PHDs and thee MDs, graduated from high school and was accepted into MIT at age 13. He works for the behavioural analysis unit of the FBI. He is a high ranking federal agent.
Spencer has read every single government document, and still stays up to date with each document that is published. He plays chess, and it's nearly impossible to beat him. Spencer reads investigation essays on any topic, ranging from physics to philosophy and everything in between. Spencer solves case after case. With the help of his team, he puts away bad guy after bad guy. Spencer makes connections between locations to understand the behaviour, motivations and possible future victims of an unsub.
And while these traits make Spencer Reid who he is, he's so much more.
Spencer loves with a mending heart, one which is shattered way too often. Spencer cares for his friends, does their paperwork because he's "faster doing it". He brings coffee for his teammates when they're working consecutive cases. He stops at the cute shop around the corner from his apartment to buy Penelope small things to fidget with. He goes into baby's clothing stores to look at small shoes to buy for JJ's kids, even though those places are always downright filthy. Spencer watches in awe, as if he were documenting an experiment, as Derek talks to him about what he's learned on women - he talks about love, and how easy it is to slip and shield yourself from rejection, and sometimes even about sex, and how weird or amazing it can be. Spencer always tries to sit near Emily or Hotch on the flights back because they always talk about something interesting, usually relating to human behaviour.
He has trouble understanding human behaviour. That's probably why he is so interested in studying psychology, behaviour and philosophy. He fidgets nervously, submerges himself in the peripheral to ignore what confuses him. He is amazed by numbers, and finding the connection between them. He memorises statistic after statistic, percentage after percentage, to make sense of the senseless.
Spencer doesn't understand love. In the simplest way possible, too. He is completely aware of what people say it is: a tingly feeling in the pit of your stomach when the person is close. It was enjoying proximity (though he didn't know if this would apply to him too).
Until he met her.
Now, he knows how knowledge is acquired. He knows that the only way of truly learning something is if you push yourself, you read, you study and, eventually, you know. He knows there is on way to learn about something by mere proximity.
But when he met her he suddenly understood. He understood that love is wanting to wake up early to make them coffee, but staying in bed for five more minutes to be able to properly inhale their presence. It's hugging the pillow when they're not home, closing your eyes tightly and knowing that they will be coming back. It's not being able to take the distance, no matter what you tell yourself.
Love is worrying about them every single second of your life - no matter where they were. It's wanting to wrap them in bubble wrap, the indestructible kind. The kind that doesn't allow for any injury - either physical or emotional.
And that's the thing. Because He would never imagine he could hurt you. So the first time he comes back home from a case, exactly the case you'd taken a break from because the last one had hit a little too close to home, he had lashed out. He had called you everything short of lazy and annoying. He had criticised you for taking a much-needed break. "If you had been there we would've been able to stop Michaelson before he killed the second victim! How can you not see that?". He was incapable of stopping his words as the pain and exhaustion from the case got the best of him. Spencer had hurt you.
And, as Spencer spewed his words, unable to stop them, he felt nothing more than absolute fear. Fear because of how scared he was. Fear because of the pain he saw in your tired eyes.
Love is questioning everything. Everything pushing your emotions towards fear and worry of loss. Of deceit.
When she told Spencer she was ready to have sex with him, he felt that feeling at the pit of his stomach. But this time, it was mixed with the same fear that had hurt her mere months ago. Because the idea of his filthy hands roaming around her body, corrupting her saint-like spirit, it was too much to handle.
She had let him in, broken her walls. She had made him her own, and, in doing so, she became his, too. They became one, like a sculpture that's carefully being crafted. The creation of the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa by Bernini, a beautiful piece where Saint Teresa is depicted just minutes before the angel plunges an arrow in her heart. Their pieces were mended together, creating the prettiest, most heartbreaking piece of art humanity had had the chance of witnessing.
Spencer was a genius. Yet, he knew no amount of books could teach him anything about the incredible woman with whom he had the opportunity of approximating his time-space continuum with.
Super special, cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x @inlovewithbabygirl @username2002 @spencerreid-mgg @eoupe @galaxydefenderjulia
@urie-bowie-mercury @huntheimpossible @onyourfingertips
tags not working: @s1utformgg
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I'm reviewing Criminal Minds, and, dude, I still CANNOT swallow Reid and JJ.
Like, I love JJ. But, dude, you are married to a wonderful man, you have a beautiful family, and that happens ??? She says "I always loved you" ???? but everyone knew that Reid liked her and she never did anything about it.
I don't know, maybe I'm the one who's too indignant, but it pisses me of. Reid never had a romance that really worked, he was the most vulnerable and suffered the most, and instead of letting him try to find someone good and stop waiting for she all life, what does JJ do ?? keeps his hope alive. I don't know, I'm really pissed about it
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u sprained your ankle so spencer takes the day off to take care of you
yeast was going to kill you. actually, it would be spencer, not the yeast, but that was certainly a defining factor.
hopping up on the counter to grab it from that unreasonably high shelf had been fine, and then you started to get down. you winced as you shifted your weight, attempting to keep it off your injured foot.
“now just what do you think you’re doing?”
you jumped, stumbling back into the counter. while spencer’s voice was stern, his hands were gentle when they came to rest on your waist.
“slipping, apparently.” you scoffed and leaned up into spencer’s touch. he didn’t take humor in your statement; his eyebrows shot up toward his hairline.
“you told me you would be careful.”
“i am! you just scared me.”
“climbing up on the counter is not careful.”
you threw up your hands— he had a point, but you still felt indignant. you were fine now, one hand on the granite to steady you, but spencer’s hold on your waist was firm anyway.
“well...” you looked up at him, “i wanted to make bread.”
you held up the package of yeast to prove your point. spencer gently snatched it away and put it on the counter.
“so, come get me,” he countered. “you promised me if i didn’t take off work that you would be careful and take it easy.”
“i sprained my ankle, i didn’t get shot.” you poked his chest for emphasis, as if to say ‘like somebody i know.’
he slid his arm around the small of your back, tapping your hip until you got the hint to move. the two of you shuffled out of the kitchen to the couch, you leaning on spencer more than you would admit to him. it was just a sprained ankle, but in the way that a paper cut was just a paper cut. you leaned into your boyfriend until he helped you settle against the cushions.
“it’s just a sprained ankle now but it’s going to get worse if you don’t rest.”
he fussed with the pillows behind you until you lovingly pushed his hands away. he settled in next to you instead.
“do you ever stop worrying?” you asked, poking at his arm. he smiled in spite of himself.
“no. and, you know what?”
he brushed your hair behind your ear, watching the quirk of your eyebrows in response to his question. just as he opened his mouth again, he tapped your nose.
“i... am staying home with you today.”
your brow furrowed. “spencer-“
he shook his head, shushing you with a kiss on the temple. “nope, none of that.”
“you’re not calling out of work for me.”
“too late, already did.” his voice was a sing-song, practically teasing you. “i had a feeling you wouldn’t take my very serious instructions seriously.”
your mouth dropped open– you and your damn stress fractures.
“but what about-“
“they’ll live without me for a day, they have before.”
you weren’t sure what to say, but you still felt bad; it didn’t feel fair for him to take off just because you were stubborn and couldn’t sit on your ass the one time your body needed you to. spencer must’ve seen the conflict in your eyes because he gently gripped your jaw, guiding your gaze toward him.
“if they really need me, i’ll go in, okay? but i wanna take care of you.”
you pursed your lips and mulled over his words, whether he was telling the truth or not, but his touch was so soft that you didn’t have the heart to tell him no. not that you even wanted to...
“okay,” you sighed. you placed your hand on top of his and turned to kiss his palm.
“but only because you could use a day off.”
his laughter came in a delightful giggle, apparently quite amused by that. he let go of your face in favor of messing with your leg (aka propping it up on his lap).
“you’re a full time job anyway, bug.”
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Most of my imagines are gender neutral unless if stated at the beginning. All the trigger warnings are at the introductory section of the fic post <3
Unveiled Scars : in which Spencer comes home from a case and discovers Reader self harms. (fluff at the end)
Aftermath: Reader comforts Spencer after a heartbreaking event occurring on the field. (fluff at the end)
Cruel summer: Spencer takes a bullet for Reader who then gets mad and confesses their feelings during an emotional argument (inspired by Taylor Swift)
Museum Date: Spencer Reid confesses his feelings for you at a nocturne exhibition in a museum
Museum Dates part two: Reader surprises Spencer for their first year anniversary, the same way he did with Reader, at an art gallery at night.
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Museum Dates: part 2
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (no specific pronouns used, Reader wears a dress)
Resume: Reader surprises Spencer for their first year anniversary, the same way he did with Reader, at an art gallery at night. They dance and it’s just too romantic (dream with me💕).
Category: so fluffy!
Trigger warnings: mention of alcohol (please let me know if i forgot something)
It has been one year since you and Spencer have been together. You have been together ever since you went on a date at that nocturne exhibition. To honour your love, he gifted you a bracelet with the time of when you first kissed engraved on it with a heart. This time you were the one who decided to surprise him. Your friend has this art gallery in the historic center; therefore, close to the historical museum where you originally went on your first date. You made her an offer to rent the gallery for the night, an offer she gladly accepted excited to hear your updates the next morning.
It took weeks of preparation since you wanted it to be perfect. It was highly challenging for you to keep this surprise a surprise; you were dating a profiler! He asked you to move in with him which you half declined. It would have been impossible to plan your surprise and move in with him at the same time especially if he gave you a hand, which he most definitely would’ve. He would’ve noticed all of the evidence therefore it would’ve been ruined! No body, no crime… Plus him feeling disappointed or left out was perfect to amplify the joy overcoming him when he discovers your entire mascarade just like in movies when the characters would pretend to forget someone’s birthday to surprise them later on. You told him you simply weren’t ready to move in with him which he completely understood.
However, since you were scared of getting profiled by him at work, you would make excuses to decline plans, you would panic and avoid to answer questions. It most definitely did not go unnoticed by him who took it as a clue you didn’t trust him or worse. Each time you lied to him a little piece of his heart broke. So he sat there at the edge of his desk hands in his pocket staring blankly at the ground, the last one in the bureau illuminated by the static flickering light above him. Those lights reminded him of hospitals, specifically the one where he stayed after getting shot, you would bring him jello and would read to him his favorite books.
He sat there, deep in thoughts, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes slightly open as if the truth was right in front of his eyes but he just couldn’t see it clearly and it was. His phone buzzed, it was you; “John Keats, p113.” He rose to his feet to grab the copy of poetry collection on his desk. The title of the poem was “An ode to autumn” and that’s when it hit him. In between the pages was a raven wax sealed envelope. He opened it full of apprehension, it read in your beautiful italic handwriting; “Meet me at the Melrose art gallery at 10PM sharp.” He grabbed his coat hurrying out of the office, a small smile displayed on his face as the elevator door slowly shut.
Once Spencer arrived he texted you because there was no way in, the doors were locked (safety measures). You started panicking adjusting the lights so they were dimmed. You checked your reflection, you were stunning. You wore a black dress with some sultry perfume that could be smelled from across the room. He waited in front of the door hearing your Mary Jane clicks progressively louder as you made your way to the door opening it up for him.
He walked in his eyes fixated on you, his cheeks flushed, you flet the tip of his nose cold on your cheek when he leaned in to kiss you. You turned your head grabbing his hand to lead him toward the biggest room in the entire gallery. There were peonies in white and blue vases along with many vanilla candles. The record player played soft muffled sounds, the song it was on was “Old enough to love” by Ricky Nelson. It matched you well, being the babies of the BAU.
“Will you dance with me ?” he responded by nodding because he was smiling too hard to be able to form any word. There you were slow dancing in the dimly lit room. He held your hand squeezing it from time to time, you felt his warm breathe fan over your neck. He pulled you in closer thanks to his arm being snaked around your waist. The next song to play was “Say Yes To Heaven” by Lana Del Rey. It reminded you of him, you found the lyrics quite touching; if you fight, I’ll fight//Give peace a chance, let the fear you have fall away. Spencer made you twirl watching your dress move gracefully in sink with your body. You almost fell from tripping on your shoes but he reaffirmed his gentle grip on you. You both chuckled.
Once the music stopped, the one you carefully chose since each part of your romantic evening was planned. You sat down on a pile of pillows while sipping on peach white wine. You handed him a heart shaped box that recollected all your favorite memories, from the museum tickets, to pressed flowers you made with the bouquets he would gift you (you made a journal of them where you would analyse them: the etymology behind their names, what they meant, for example lilies were symbolised death), to pictures, to love letters. Until he found a remote, you asked him to click on it, nothing happened.
You got up helping him up as well. You hand turned the lights off. The room didn’t have a ceiling but tinted windows in a sphere shape which was perfect for what he turned on; a projection of the sky on the night you first kissed. He looked up at the stars in awe of the beauty right in front of his eyes. You explained to him where this sky was from and why you were projecting it.
“Spencer, what time is it ?” You asked.
“11:29PM” he shut his eyes a second too long; again, it hit him, you first kissed at 11:31PM. He made his way toward you cupping your cheeks in hands while your hands rested on his waist. The kiss was passionate, slow, harmonious; everything you wanted it to be. You smiled out of it pointing at a constellation; “Look, it’s Cygnus!” Purposely expecting him to start his rambling.
“Cygnus is a northern constellation lying on the plane of the Milky Way, deriving its name from the Latinized Greek word for swan. Cygnus is one of the most recognizable constellations of the northern summer and autumn. It is symbolises weddings, romance, love, anniversaries…” his gaze drifted back to you. You were already staring at him an eyebrow cocked smirking at him. Again, it hit him. This date night was a game of chess which you were many moves ahead of him.
“I have to say, I’m impressed.”
“Oh but I’m not done yet!”
You nodded leaving, he froze for a second before trotting to you like a lost puppy. He followed you to a staircase which led to the roof. There was not much space on the roof since it was mostly occupied by the sphere like windows but the edges were big enough to let you walk through them, sit and even for a telescope…
“See the sparkly dot right next to Scorpio ?”
“Here take a look” you said to him gesturing toward the telescope.
“It is beautiful, Y/n, it truly is but what about it ?” He knew you weren’t the one that was going to give him a class on the universe. Spencer was one of kind, the most brilliant scientist you’ve ever met, he gave you the scientific facts about the stars and constellations, you would give him the spiritual meanings behind them. You would complete each other in knowledge just like that. You fished out a tube of paper with a bow tied around it. He took it and after a split second of shock which showed on his face started freaking out. He squeezed you so tight.
“Oh my god, Y/n, I can’t believe you got me a star! This is the best gift I’ve ever received!” His voice was so high from the excitement he almost squealed.
“The brightest star for the brightest mind.”
To top it off, you saw a shooting star and you could swear in this instance you both made the same wish.
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at least i’m trying ; spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x reader (sorta, more just a slice of life fic).
summary: spencer is trying. he tries everyday to be a better friend, a better partner and a better person. sometimes, the good days win. honestly just spencer fluff.
warnings: mentioning of mental health, canon typical violence.
authors note: did i accidently disappear for months? yes, oops. i blame my anxiety and imposter syndrome. anyway, i’m back! i hope you all like this <3
Sometimes, Spencer finds it incredibly difficult to get out of bed. The sunlight is too bright, the city streets beneath him too loud and his own mind is too busy. He wants to crawl back under the warmth and safety of his covers and ignore the world for a while.
Almost as if his friends know, on days like this he receives morning texts from Penelope. Well, Penelope texts him every morning. But those texts mean infinitely more on the bad mornings. So, he gets up, texts Penelope back and makes sure to grab her a coffee on his way into work.
Penelope will greet him with a hug and although he struggles to admit it, her hugs are his favourite. He wishes he could tell Penelope how much she means to him, but words often fail him. For someone who knows multiple ways to say I love you and can speak in long forgotten, dead languages, they all die on his tongue when he needs them most. He hopes the way he hugs Penelope back, hugging her a bit tighter, conveys everything he can’t say.
Sometimes, Spencer doesn’t want to leave the house. It first happened a year into your relationship, you showed up at his apartment for a date but were greeted with a sleep deprived, exhausted Spencer. He says it’s just the case he’s working on, but you know him better than that.
So, you follow him into his apartment. Make him and yourself a cup of tea and settle on his worn couch, in the darkness. The curtains hadn’t been opened all day, Spencer was still in his pyjamas. But you silently hand him his cup of tea, waiting for him to talk. He eventually opens up about the bad days, the days where everything seems dark and scary and awful. And when he eventually falls asleep, his head in your lap, you wish you could take away all the pain and heaviness in his soul.
When Spencer wakes the next morning, on his couch, with you asleep next to him, he thinks he’s the luckiest man alive. He tries to tell you in little ways that he loves you before he actually says those three words. He remembers your favourite book, your coffee order and your least favourite drink. He holds your hand in busy streets and leaves his cardigans scattered around your apartment. He even dedicates a few of his research papers to you, and you read them, despite knowing nothing about forensic linguistics or mathematics. He thinks that he’s known that he loves you for a very long time. It just takes a while for his brain to catch up with his heart.
Sometimes, Spencer wants to scream at the world. About how slow everything is, about the weird looks he’ll get from strangers when he refuses to shake their hand, about everything.
But Spencer remembers the good things. The way Derek will come to him first when he wants to talk. The smile Emily gives him when they both realise something at the same time. The hugs you give. It’s these small acts of kindness that makes him want to try.
And he tries to be a better person. A kinder person. Although the world hasn’t always been kind to him, he’s determined to be better than that. He smiles at strangers, holds doors open for people, and most importantly, he loves. He loves everyone in his life fiercely, with every ounce of his being. He tries every morning to leave a little more love in the world than the day before.
Sometimes, Spencer wakes up in a good mood. The sun is shining, you’re sleeping next to him, he has texts from his friends on his phone that remind him that he’s loved. And sometimes Spencer doesn’t have to try very hard to see the light in the world.
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Baby Mine [Spencer Reid]
pairing - dad!spencer reid x fem!reader
type - fluff
summary - you find spencer singing to your baby boy for the first time
warnings / includes - none
*gif isn’t mine* (got it from a google search)
“Come here, Dean,” you cooed at your baby boy. You picked him up, bouncing him up and down gently as you walked him to Spencer.
“Why don’t you hold him,” you suggested. Spencer looked at his child, hands beginning to shake at the thought of holding the baby.
He was nervous, to say the least. He wasn’t very good with Dean, despite being great with JJ’s kids. You guessed that it was because it was his own child. If he did something wrong, then he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself or you wouldn’t be able to forgive him, like JJ and his other co-workers could, because it was your guys’s baby.
You thought he was just being dramatic. You knew he couldn’t hurt the baby, not even if he tried - not like he would. He still was wary about carrying for the baby. He still helped you out when the baby needed to be fed, changed, burped. But otherwise, he wouldn’t hold him just to hold him like you. It made you sad. So, you tried to get him more accustomed to holding and playing with Dean, but so far, you hadn’t been very successful.
“I-I… What if I drop him?” Spencer asked.
You chuckled, “You won't drop him. C’mon, why don’t you put him to bed,” you urged, holding out Dean.
Spencer gulped and held his hands out. They were shaking furiously and you knew that if he did hold the baby with shaky hands, then he would definitely drop Dean. You sighed and pulled back.
“It’s alright. We can try tomorrow,” you smiled. You then turned to go to nursery.
Spencer followed you, a frown weighing down his lips. “I’m sorry. I-I do want to hold him, I swear. I just… I’m nervous.”
You set Dean down in the crib, smiling down at him before turning to Spencer. Your heart broke as you saw Spencer with tears in his eyes, biting his lip and looking at you like a child that was about to receive scolding. You gave him a soft, assuring smile, walking over and wrapping your arms around him. You set your head on his chest, breathing in deeply and leaning into him.
“It’s okay, Spence,” you hummed.
Spencer shook his head and pulled away from you. “No, it’s not okay. He’s my son, I shouldn’t be scared to hold him.”
You took his face in your hands, pulling him close to you gently. You set your forehead on his, looking at him in the eyes.
“It is okay. I know you love him, I can see it in your eyes. You just have to ease up to him. As long as he knows that you love him, it’ll all be okay,” you spoke.
Spencer sighed, “I shouldn't have to ease up to him.” “Some parents just have to. Just…” you let out a breathy chuckle, “Just try and ease up to him before he moves out, alright?”
Spencer laugend with you, nodding and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”
“Good. And hey, I love you. And so does Dean.”
“I love you guys, too. So much.”
“I know,” you grinned. You leaned in and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Spencer’s lips. He kissed you back with the same tenderness, putting his hands on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. You giggled into the kiss, then pulling away after a few moments.
“Let’s let Dean keep his innocence while he can,” you joked.
“I don’t think we have to worry about that.” Spencer pointed to Dean who was already asleep and snoring soundly.
“Wow,” you raised your brows. “He doesn’t go to sleep that easily, usually.”
“Maybe it’s because he had the best mom in the world put him to bed,” Spencer smiled.
“Oh, I always put him to bed,” you rolled your eyes. “Maybe it’s because you’re in the room and he likes your presence,” you poked Spencer’s chest.
“Oh, I highly doubt that,” Spencer sighed. “Alright, you ready to go to bed?”
“Do you even have to ask that?” You gave him a tired, lopsided smile.
Spencer smiled in reply, taking your hand and leading you to your bedroom. You jumped into bed immediately, snuggling up with the blanket and Spencer. You fell asleep on his chest, Spencer’s arm around you lazily.
It was about two in the morning when Spencer woke up to Dean’s wails. He sat up straight in bed, first feeling panic, but then remembering that Dean was just hungry and lonely, and was safe. Spencer sighed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, turning his head to see you sleeping soundly. Spencer smiled at the sight, putting his hand up to run his thumb along your cheek.
Dean’s wails continued in the background and Spencer knew he had to get up and tend to him. You had been doing most of the work the past few weeks and now that you were finally sleeping soundly, Spencer had to pick up some of the slack. He didn’t mind at all, but his anxiety started to pick up once he entered the nursery.
“H-Hey, Dean,” he whispered, approaching the crib slowly.
Dean was rolling around in his crib, his little face scrunched up and loud cries coming out from his mouth.
“Um…” Spencer muttered. “Are you hungry? Let me go and get some milk.”
He rushed out of the room, his feet padding softly against the floor as he went to the fridge. He poured some of your breast milk into a bottle, screwing on the cap and putting it in the microwave. He warmed in up for a few moments before taking it out. He checked the milk temperature and once he was satisfied, he went back to the nursery. He set the bottle down next to the rocking chair, approaching Dean with caution.
“I’m back,” Spencer smiled. “U-Um,” Spencer’s smile faltered as he realised he had to pick him up. “I’m going to pick you up. I apologise if I um, mess this up.”
He reached his hands down and set them under Dean’s armpits, lifting him up slowly.
“You’re heavier than I remember,” Spencer chuckled, lifting Dean out of his crib. He quickly positioned Dean so he was cradling him. Spencer smiled as he had successfully gotten him out of his crib.
“Hey! That wasn’t so hard, huh? Yeah, I didn’t know what I was scared of.”
Dean’s cries only got louder and Spencer stopped congratulating himself, quickly going over to the rocking chair and sitting down.
“Alright, let’s uh, get you some food,” he muttered, picking up the bottle.
He set Dean up in his left arm, his right being preoccupied with the bottle. He steadily placed the bottle to Dean’s lips. Spencer watched with hopeful eyes as Dean grabbed the bottle. But at the last moment, Dean pushed the bottle away. Spencer furrowed his brows, not understanding why he wouldn't eat.
“C’mon, aren’t you hungry? I-I know this isn’t the same as feeding from Y/n’s breast, but she’s sleeping right now.”
Dean just cried in repose, louder this time.
“O-Oh, okay. Not hungry? That’s um, that’s fine. What do you want then?” Spencer asked, beginning to get nervous and shaky again.
He set the bottle down on the floor, sitting back in the rocking chair and looking at the crying baby.
“C’mon, you gotta give me something,” Spencer begged.
Dean then reached his head out and grabbed Spencer shirt. Spencer looked down in confusion, then back at Dean.
“Y-You want my shirt? I’m afraid it’s just a little too big for you,” Spencer chuckled.
Dean kept crying and grabbing at Spencer shirt. Spencer looked at the baby in distress, trying to figure out what he wanted. It wasn’t until he remembered last week when Dean was crying, all you had to do was hold him close and cuddle him and he calmed down.
“Do you want to be held?” Spencer asked hopefully. He wasted no time in cradling Dean, leaning back in the rocking chair and setting him close to him chest.
Spencer also remembered you singing a song to Dean. It was the ‘Tale as old as Time’ song from Beauty and the Beast, which happened to be Dean’s favourite Disney princess movie. Spencer opened his mouth to sing, but his mind suddenly went blank.
“Dang it,” he muttered. He racked his brain for the lyrics, but it was no use. He looked back down at Dean, who was still crying. It had gone down a little, though, which Spencer was thankful for. He just wished he remembered the song lyrics.
As he searched his brain for the tune, another song entered his head. It was ‘Baby Mine’ from Dumbo. Spencer didn’t understand why that song popped into his head, but he knew that he would just have to work with it, otherwise Dean might never stop crying.
Spencer took a deep breath before singing, beginning to rock Dean. back and forth.
“Baby mine, don’t you cry,” Spencer sang. “Baby mine, dry your eyes. Rest your head close to my heart. Never to part, baby of mine.”
Spencer looked down at Dean, smiling widely as Dean laid his little head against his chest, gripping his shirt with his hand. Spencer’s heart swelled at the gesture. He felt himself begin to relax and become less nervous.
“Little one, will you play. Don't you mind what they say. Let those eyes sparkle and shine. Never a tear, baby of mine,” he continued singing.
Dean’s cries stopped gradually, the only sound coming from his mouth were little giggles and gargles. As Spencer continued to sing the next verse, he looked into Dean’s eyes. They were big and bright, looking at Spencer with love and wonder. Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the sight. He had your eyes, which made Dean all the more beautiful. And Spencer stared down at Dean, the same loving, caring expression shining in his eyes.
Back in the bedroom, you awoke to the soft hum that was Spencer’s voice coming from the room next to yours. You sat up in bed, looking around, confused that you couldn’t find Spencer. You yawned and got up, slipping on your slippers and trudging out of your room. You followed the low hum, surprised that it was coming Dean’s room.
As you approached the room, you body stopped at a halt. Your heart swelled at the sight. Spencer was rocking Dean back and forth, singing to him. His arms around Dean, holding him close. Dean’s head was resting against his chest, eyes closed and soft snores escaping his mouth. You smiled proudly, leaning against the doorframe to watch. You listened in to Spencer’s song, your smile getting impossibly better as you realised the song he was singing was ‘Baby Mine’. The sight was so sweet and adorable, you hoped to remember it forever.
Spencer didn’t hear you approach, too focused on his baby.
“From your head down to your toes. You're not much, goodness knows. But you're so precious to me. Sweet as can be, baby of mine. Baby of mine.” Spencer sang the last lines softly, reaching his first finger up to bop Dean’s nose.
You watched for a few more moments, drinking in the sight of Spencer spending time with Dean. You then began to clap softly, causing Spencer to jump slightly. Thankfully, Dean didn’t wake up. Spencer turned to you, his face immediately going red.
“H-Hi. Did I wake you?” He whispered. “No, not at all,” you shook your head.
You walked over to him, dropping down to your knees by the rocking chair. You smiled at Dean, then up at Spencer.
“Finally held him for longer than two minutes, huh?” You teased.
“Yeah,” Spencer chuckled sheepishly. “I heard him crying and I know how much work you’ve been doing. I knew it would only be fair to take the night shift tonight.”
“You think you could take the night shift more often?” You suggested.
“Definitely,” he nodded. “Good. Gosh, that was so cute,” you giggled.
“What? Me singing?”
“Yes. But also you spending time with Dean. I wish I brought my phone to take a picture,” you chuckled.
“Go ahead and get it,” Spencer said. You nodded and got up, returning quickly. You stood in the doorframe, snapping a few pictures of Spencer and the baby.
Spencer looked down at the baby, smiling fondly at him, then back at the picture. You squealed quietly, going back to Spencer to show him.
“My two beautiful boys,” you sighed contently.
“And my beautiful wife,” Spencer smiled loving at you.
Your eyes met his and you grinned from ear-to-ear. “Wanna get Dean tucked in then go back to bed?”
Spencer nodded, getting up slowly and gently, placing Dean back in his crib. Dean stayed asleep soundly, sucking on his thumb as Spencer set him down. You went close to Spencer, wrapping your arm around him and setting your head on his shoulder while looking at Dean.
“What a beautiful family we make,” you gushed.
Spencer tore his eyes off of Dean and looked at you. His heart soared with joy and pride at the little family you two managed to make. He knew he was the luckiest man alive. No one put up with his weirdness like you did, and he was positive no other girl would understand his job like you did. He couldn’t, for the life of him, understand how he managed to get you. But he knew for a fact, that he was never going to let you go.
You noticed his stare and looked up, furrowing your brows. “What is it?”
“I just love you. So much,” he whispered. You grinned, taking his hand into yours and pressing your forehead against his. You looked into his eyes. Nothing was more perfect than this moment.
“I love you, Spence.” You turned your head to Dean. “And you, baby of mine.”
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Shall I Count the Ways: XXXVII
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader
Summary: You and Spencer are best friends. You’re in love with him and he’s in love with you, but neither of you know it nor decide to tell the other about their feelings. All the love is there, just hidden in the things you say and the things you do with one another.
A/N: From the this 50 Ways to Say I Love You list
Shall I Count the Ways Masterlist
37. “You’re the only reason I’m coming back”
"Your mission is in California? That sounds fun."
"Yes, because dealing with killer stalkers is a thing of fun, Y/N." you roll your eyes as you typed out an article, "Okay, okay, no need to be sassy with me Doc."
Spencer hums but then says, "So, yeah, I'm sorry I have to cancel our dinner plans."
"Spencer, you really don't have to apologize. This is out of your control. I do want you to come back though."
"What?" you could practically hear the confusion on Spencer's face, you imagine his brows furrowing and lips pursed, "Y/N, why wouldn't I come back?"
You shrug, even though he can't see you, "I don't know! California is where all the cool people are! There weather is great, they have beautiful people and beaches. Who knows, you just might like it enough to stay!" you exclaim playfully but a part of you is actually worried.
"Y/N, I'm coming back to Virginia after this. And you’re the only reason I’m coming back.”
You smirk to yourself, "Only reason, you say?"
"Okay, maybe not only, but one of many. Anyways, I have to go. I'll talk to you whenever I can, okay?"
"Alright. Go be a hero or whatever. Stay safe, Spencer!"
"Will do. Bye."
When Spencer came back from his case, he called you up immediately. It wasn't too late in the day, so you figured you two would grab dinner. You promptly picked him up at Quantico. You entered the bullpen and Spencer stood to greet you, but only to knock his satchel over, some papers spilling out.
You go to help them and then grab...a tabloid?
Your eyes widen and jaw drop, "Spencer! You're on the cover of a tabloid! With a celebrity?!"
He quickly grabs it and stuffs it back in satchel and, despite a slight pang in your heart, you smirk as you stood, "Guess California was a lot more interesting that you expected, huh?"
He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair, "Anyway, dinner?"
"Okay," you let his dismissal go, but the curiosity is eating you up...just a little bit.
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