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avis-writeshq · 5 months

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05 — enchanted

summary: “please don’t be in love with someone else”/“please don’t have somebody waiting on you.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn, no use of (Y/N) warnings: alcohol (reader gets drunk lmfao), jealousy, slight miscommunication, austin (aka: bartender girl from s4), special mention to special people wc: 4.9k a/n: everyone say thank you @astrophileous for beta-reading MWAH ilyvm zara <33 SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Although you haven’t been a part of the BAU for more than one year, it didn’t stop you from maintaining the connections that you had in all your years of working there. Sure, the scheduling times could be better, but that didn’t stop the team from spending their rare day off to spend time with you. After all, the adjustment of seeing you every day to once in a blue moon was a difficult one to make.

O’Keefe’s has been the main victim of the team’s shenanigans, its doors open for the seven members of law enforcement, all eager to get their hands on some well earned rest and relaxation. Drinks are passed around the booth and you can’t help but laugh as you watch Derek get his ‘groove thang on’ with a few girls in the bar. Today is one of the rare occasions when the team didn’t have a case, an even rarer day when the team didn’t have to take on any new or incoming cases.

“How’s life treating you?” Emily asks cheerfully, sipping at her strawberry daiquiri. You gather that tonight is one of those nights.

You smile, sipping at your own beverage of choice. “Good! Way less stressful than working at the BAU, that’s for sure. And the hours are good, too.”

JJ snorts from beside you. “Yeah, well, can’t say I’m not jealous. How’re the kids?”

“I can’t say much because of confidentiality and all that, but they’re doing well. A lot better, thank goodness but it just goes to show the aftermath of the things that you guys deal with. I mean, I still think about all the victims we’ve helped and it sucks that we can’t do anything to help them further.” You finish your tangent with a long sip of your drink before leaning back against the booth. “Anyway, how are you guys?”

Penelope comes shuffling past carrying a series of cocktails, her absolutely monstrous platform heels not aiding her in her slightly tipsy task. “Do not even get me started on work. No work! None! We’re having a fun day. Ergo, no work talk.”

You laugh in response, moving to the side to allow her room to sit in the booth. “No, Penny, you’re right. No work talk.”

The drinks are dispersed and your gaze shifts to where Spencer is standing, laughing awkwardly as he tries to follow along to Derek’s dancing and socialising. He looks incredibly out of place in his brown argyle sweater vest, navy tie and freshly pressed slacks, and he pulls at the collar of his shirt.

“Nah, Spencer could definitely be a ladies’ man if he plays his cards right. And I mean that literally,” Emily says, bringing you out of your daydream.

Your head snaps in her direction, trying to calm your facial features and microexpressions. Regardless of your attempts, after a year of not practising, you don’t do as well as you hope. “What?”

JJ grins at you, her eyes lighting up knowingly. “We’re just talking about who’s the biggest hotshot in the BAU.”

“Wouldn’t that be David?” You ask meekly, your finger swirling along the edge of your glass. You had met David Rossi on occasion, once by accident when you were having a night out with the girls and the other during a proper introduction two weeks later. “Didn’t he have, like, five wives?”

“I had three thank you very much,” Rossi intervenes swiftly, holding his glass of whisky on ice.

“Sorry, my bad,” you respond jokingly, snickering as he shakes his head and stalks over to where Hotch is sitting and drinking his rum.

Penelope lets out a loud laugh. “I think we’re forgetting the obvious: our very own Chocolate Thunder.”

“Well, fine,” Emily drawls, waving a hand dismissively, “but Spencer has that innocent vibe to him, y’know? The kind of guy women go crazy over.”

JJ clicks her fingers in remembrance. “Didn’t a bunch of prostitutes try to pick him up in that one case?”

“What?” You ask again, albeit a little shrilly as you try to dismiss the surprise in your tone.

“He didn’t take them,” Emily says quickly in an attempt to ease your discomfort. “But he did pick up a girl a few months ago. Austin?”

Penelope nods at that, putting down her cup. “Oooh, yes! I remember her. He showed me a picture. She’s pretty.”

“I mean, he did pick up Lila too.” JJ reminds the team, shooting you a sly smile. “You remember her, don’t you?”

You force out a laugh and bite the inside of your cheek in the process. “Yeah. Who’s Austin?”

“I think I still have a picture!” Penelope says, brandishing her phone from her coat pocket. She types something in before sliding it in your direction. “Pretty, right?”

Austin is certainly pretty, even in the uncoordinated selfie Penelope shows you of her and Spencer. He’s slightly out of frame, his lips set into a sweet smile while Austin practically glows. Her brilliant green eyes flash in the camera and her dark hair frames her face perfectly. She and Spencer are close in the photo, with him holding the phone clumsily and she has a hand on his arm.

“Uh huh,” you murmur distractedly, averting your gaze from the photo as an ugly feeling creeps into your chest. “Really pretty.”

Emily looks at you curiously. “You didn’t know about her?”

You shrug in response, the smile on your face insincere. “There are a lot of things I don’t know about Spencer.”

The group exchange a couple glances at your tell-tale body language, watching as you scoot past Penelope and out of the booth, making your way to the bar. You’re all too grateful for a reprieve from the teasing as you order another drink and take a seat, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Your mind goes through all the interactions you’ve had with Spencer over the years. Were you really that foolish to think that he would feel that way for you? Maybe you were reading too much into it, you try to reason, running your fingers through your once styled hair. Maybe, in some stupid and twisted way, all of Spencer’s interactions were platonic.

You scoff inwardly to yourself. Right. Because picking someone up at two o’clock in the morning is entirely platonic. Sleeping in the same bed as someone because of nightmares is totally normal between friends. In any case, you could have sworn that he–

“Trouble in paradise?”

An unfamiliar voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin, and you turn to the man who takes a seat beside you. “Uh… something like that.”

The man hums, a smile on his handsome features. His dark brown hair is fluffy and, in its own charming little way, suits him. He reminds you a lot of Spencer, with the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles along with the timbre of his voice. He’s also very different to Spencer, especially with his sweater that has a bright orange pumpkin on it, paired with a matching orange scarf. A pair of red tinted sunglasses hang on the neckline of his sweater, and you doubt that it would do much good to block the sun.

“I’m Matthias,” he says good naturedly, beaming. “I’m with my sister, Laura,” he explains, gesturing to a lady sporting dyed auburn coloured hair, and she waves with a matching smile.

You introduce yourself, pointing to the booth. “My friends are over there.”

Matthias nods, undeterred by your company on the other side of the bar. “Let me buy you a drink.”

***

After what felt like hours of dancing (it was really only fifteen minutes), Spencer and Derek make their way to rejoin the group. The feeling of sweat matting his skin is one of many reasons as to why Spencer hates dancing. That, and the fact that there were far too many people on the dancefloor. What’s worse is the fact that he’s sure that none of them have ever heard of the word ‘deodorant’. He cringes at the thought of all the germs that could be festering on his skin as he sits at the booth, his eyes shifting to wear your bag lays haphazardly on the red cushions.

“Where is she?” He asks instantly, turning to Emily and placing your bag so that it’s in a safer and less hazardous position.

She hums, pointing in the bar’s direction. “Getting a drink. She’s just cooling off.”

“Cooling off?” Spencer echoes, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean she’s ‘cooling off’?”

Penelope offers an apologetic smile, fiddling with the buttons on her coat. “We… might have told her about Austin?”

“You what?” Spencer can barely believe his ears as he looks at the group incredulously. “Why would you do that?”

“We didn’t mean anything bad by it,” JJ says hastily. “We didn’t think she’d react like that.”

“React like what?” Spencer’s voice is strangely stern, his eyes narrowing as he turns to the rest of the team. “I don’t like Austin. She’s nice but I don’t like her.”

Derek’s brows lift in surprise and confusion. “Did you go out with her after the case?”

Spencer’s ears burn in embarrassment and he turns to his friend in offence. “I asked her for help. I don’t like Austin like that. I needed advice.”

“Advice,” Emily repeats, turning in the direction of the bar. “You mean about…?”

Spencer doesn’t stay long enough to head the rest of Emily’s sentence or to answer it, making his way over to you are. Part of him wishes that he stayed put, especially when he sees what you’re doing. In an instant, his nose is scrunched up in distaste as he spies the random stranger chatting you up. His eyes lock with yours and he relishes in the way they light up as you wave him over.

“Hi,” he breathes, standing beside you.

“Hi!” You gush, beaming at him. “Saw you on the dancefloor.”

“You’ll never see it again,” he says honestly, stealing a sip of your drink. It tastes like vodka and the strawberry lipgloss you use (he only know what it tastes like because of its very on the nose packaging: a giant strawberry. He wishes he knew for other reasons).

You laugh, bright and loud, before you gasp excitedly. “Oh, Spencer, this is Matthias! He’s been keeping me company.” Then, you lean closer to him, your voice a very exaggerated whisper as if the person you’re talking about isn’t in the seat next to you as you tell Spencer, “he’s a director.”

Matthias waves off the statement, chuckling along. “Nothing famous though.”

“He’s a liar,” you tell Spencer enthusiastically. “Did you know he went to New York University? Crazy, right? Like, the school of arts or something. Oh! And he’s also from Vegas! You two are so alike.”

Spencer nods half-heartedly as he tells you, “you know, I went to MIT and CalTech.”

“Well I know that, silly!” You say with a drunken laugh, poking at his cheek. You turn to Matthias with a proud grin before reaching for a shot. “Spencer’s a genius. He’s a super smart genius.”

“That’s what ‘genius’ means, angel,” Spencer reminds gently, prying the little cup away from you. “No more. You’re drunk and we don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Your face falls and your lips curl into a frown. “But Spencer I’m thirsty!”

“You have water in your bag,” he prompts, squeezing your shoulder and helping you off the barstool, not paying this Matthias person any mind. “Okay? Let’s go back to the others.”

You nod eagerly, stumbling a little as you wave goodbye. “Bye, Matthias!”

“Uh huh,” Spencer dismisses, leading you back to the table by the small of your back. He leans a little closer to murmur in your ear, “why did you leave the others?”

You shrug dismissively, leaning into his side. “Doesn’t matter.”

“No, angel, it does,” he says carefully, “tell me?”

You huff in your own clumsy drunken way. “You should ask Austin. Or go pick someone else up. Emily says you’re turning into a ‘ladies’ man’.”

Spencer resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course. “I don’t like Austin,” he tells you in earnest, holding you close to his side as you stumble back to the booth. “I mean it, angel.”

“Bet you call everyone angel,” you grumble under your breath. “Bet you let everyone call you ‘Walter’ too.”

“No,” Spencer says immediately, a hand on your waist. “I only call you that. Besides, why would I let someone call me by my middle name if it isn’t you?”

You huff again, slumping in the booth as Penelope shuffles inward to give you more room. Your arms cross over your chest in annoyance and frustration and you turn away from Spencer’s direction. He doesn’t need to be a profiler to know that you’re pissed off at him. Somewhere in your hazy drunk mind, you’ve made it out as him being the bad guy.

Spencer shoots the other girls a pointed glare, gesturing at you as if to say ‘This is your fault’ because, in reality, it is. If they didn’t mention Austin, you wouldn’t be mad at him. If they didn’t mention Austin, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself drunk with some random guy who went to New York University. Spencer mocks Matthias in his head. Stupid Matthias and his stupidly good hair. Spencer runs a hand through his own growing locks, grimacing when he realises that it reaches his shoulders now. Maybe he should get a haircut later.

“Angel,” Spencer tries again, kneeling down next to your chair. “Let’s get you home, alright? Please don’t be mad at me?”

You mutter something incoherent, not bothering to look in his direction.

“I’m not in love with Austin,” he tells you, his tone a mix of firmness and gentleness. “Really, I’m not. We’re just friends, angel, I promise.”

“Liar,” you mutter under your breath as you get out of the booth. JJ guiltily passes you your bag and you take it out of her hands as Spencer grips your arm with one hand, the other on the small of your back.

“Not a lie,” Spencer says, walking you to his car. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. Not after Lila.”

“Lie-la,” you say bitterly as you get into the passenger seat. “Stupid actress.”

He laughs at that, getting behind the wheel. “Yeah, angel. Stupid actress.”

“You kissed her in a pool,” you continue as you fumble drunkenly with the buckle of the seatbelt. “You don’t kiss me in the pool.”

Spencer’s cheeks burn at your words as he puts your seatbelt on, his fingers grazing yours. “It never came up. Besides, I hate pools, you know that.”

“Germ-y,” you respond knowingly, a silly giddy smile on your face. “I know you the best.”

“Exactly,” he hums as starts the car, his words flowing smoothly as he considers how drunk you are. There’s no way you’d remember this, right? “Why would I find another girl when I have you who knows me best?”

Your cheeks glow with pride at his words and you laugh. “Exactly.”

***

It’s late. Far too late and you toss and turn in bed. Your eyes are heavy but your brain won’t shut up, swirling with the memories of the previous night. You’re not really sure what happened after you got to the bar, only remembering snippets of the night. The entire time was a blur: you remember getting upset at the girls (or rather, at the information they were feeding you), meeting someone– Mason? Matthew? You can’t even remember– and then downing three shots. It’s awfully stupid of you, yes but then somehow you got home safe and sound with a note on your kitchen counter from Spencer.

You felt a little silly upon the finding of the note. Of course Spencer would take you home; it’s not like the girls were particularly sober by the time you wanted to leave. Regardless, reading the note made you feel incredibly stupid, more stupid than usual, and you wanted nothing more than to bury yourself six feet underground.

‘Hi angel,’ it read in Spencer’s messy scrawl with chaotic lettering and swirly g’s. ‘You’re probably really hungover right now so there’s a Tylenol on the counter and a sandwich in the fridge. Please drink water; I’m sure you’re also severely dehydrated from the alcohol. I know you’re upset at me but please just forget about what the others said about Austin. I don’t like her like that. Be safe and call me when you wake up.’

The note was fine, nothing out of the ordinary, just Spencer being his usual ridiculously lovely self. You didn’t mind that he took care of you, either. It’s more-so the fact that you genuinely could barely remember what you said that him. You’re betting on it being something exceedingly dumb (you’re making a habit of it, much to your own chagrin), especially considering how much you had to drink that night. Maybe you should start abstaining from drinking from now on, especially if Spencer was in the vicinity.

The note is now pinned securely to your cork board, a pretty lavender thumb tack holding it in place. Your gaze drifts to it for a moment then to your clock and you groan into your pillow. This is dumb. Sleep is dumb. Your clock blinks with the numbers ‘02:01’ in red mocking letters and you resist the urge to scream. After blindly searching for your phone, you step out of bed while rubbing your eyes.

The lingering question keeps you up as you pace back and forth beside you bed. If Spencer doesn’t like Austin, who does he like? It can’t be Lila. You would have known if they kept in contact. Then again, you had no idea who Austin was so who knows what secrets Spencer is keeping? What if there was another girl? What if your entire friendship with Spencer was exactly that– friendship. You slap the palm of your hand to your forehead. Were you really that stupid?

It’s in that moment when your phone begins to ring. The tune plays through the room and you know it all too well; the Doctor Who theme song that you spent a whopping two dollars and thirty-seven cents on to add it as the custom ringtone for Spencer.

“Hello…?” You answer quietly, your voice choking. “Walter?”

“Angel,” he murmurs, and you can hear shuffling in the background. “Why are you still awake?”

You hum, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I could ask you the same question.”

He laughs quietly on the other side of the line, scratchy from the lack of sleep. “Can I come over?”

“Always.”

He hangs up after that and you press the pads of your fingers into the corners of your eyes again. You’re exhausted, far too exhausted to be hosting guests, but this is Spencer. How can you ever say no to him? So, instead of sulking around and spending far too long doing nothing, you fashion yourself a cup of tea and flick the lights on. The book you were reading is thrown haphazardly onto the cushions of your couch but you can’t bring yourself to pick it up.

The jiggling of the door handle brings you out of your little mood, and Spencer lets himself in with the key you gave him, locking it securely and taking his shoes off to reveal his sock choice of the day: one bright green and the other in fuchsia with buttercup yellow spots. He’s wearing a crinkly white t-shirt that hangs over his gangly frame and grey sweatpants. For something so basic, he looks absolutely criminal in it. You pinch yourself as punishment for thinking such a thing.

“Hey,” he breathes, sitting next to you. He runs his fingers through his hair, frowning a little. “Do you think I should get it cut?”

You laugh, almost spilling your tea. “You came to my apartment at two in the morning to ask what I think about your hair?”

“Yes,” he agrees before laughing, “no! Of course not. I just thought of it.”

A hum leaves your lips as you curl a strand of his hair around your finger. “I like long hair on you. Besides, you’d look good in any hair cut.”

Spencer preens at your words, enjoying the feel of your touch in his hair. “You’re a liar. I know what I looked like four years ago. Don’t lie.”

“I’m not!” You insist, beaming at him as you poke his cheek. “You were really cute back then. Like a baby.”

He flushes again at both the compliment and the contact, his mind committing the way you say ‘baby’ to memory. He thinks it again and again; baby, baby, baby.

“I was not a baby,” He tells you, half in jest. “I’m older than you!”

“By a year,” you quip, the sleep deprivation making your head go loopy. “Barely. Doesn’t matter, you’re still baby.”

Spencer scoffs lightly, poking your side. “If I’m a baby, what does that make you? A foetus? A zygote?”

You let out a quiet scream in protest, whacking him over the head with a throw pillow. “Ew, Spencer what the hell?”

He snickers in response, shielding his face with his forearm. “If I’m a baby and you’re younger than me, you must be at an earlier stage of development. So? Which is it, are you a foetus or a zygote? C’mon, angel, you passed eighth grade biology.”

“You’re an ass,” you chastise jokingly, rolling your eyes as you look up at him. Sometime amidst the commotion he must have gotten closer to you. Your noses are almost touching and your breath hitches in your throat.

He smiles sweetly, his own cheeks warm and flushed with embarrassment as he maintains eye contact. “I thought I was ‘baby’.”

What the hell? Is this really Spencer Reid? Silly, awkward, nerdy little Spencer Reid? This must be a very convincing body suit and an even more convincing voice altering machine because this is not Spencer Reid. You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks and ears so quickly that it’s enough to make you go dizzy. Maybe you’re a lot more sleep deprived than you thought.

“Are you drunk?” You croak out meekly as he cages you in, his forearms on either side of your head as he leans you against the couch.

He laughs– he has the actual audacity to laugh– and he shakes his head. “No, angel, I’m not drunk. You know I don’t drink enough to actually get drunk. Besides, I drove here.”

“You drove here,” you repeat, a little dazed from how close he is. “It’s two in the morning.”

“Almost three now but yes,” Spencer agrees, smiling.

“You hate driving,” you remind him, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Especially at night.”

He hums in agreement. “I do. But I wanted to see you.”

“Oh.”

You kick yourself internally. ‘Oh’? Who the hell says ‘Oh’? This is it. Your life is over. Maybe you should move to another state. Change your name, shave your head, and get a different degree because you’re almost certain that it’s the end of the line for you.

Spencer lets out a soft chuckle. “I missed you.”

“You saw me two days ago?” You say it like a question and you suddenly feel yourself sweating. It definitely got hotter in here.

He murmurs your name, his fingers grazing the skin of your jaw gently. “I’m so glad I met you.”

“I ran into you four years ago and almost gave myself a concussion,” you say, averting your gaze as you tried to calm yourself down.

“I’m so glad I met you,” he repeats softly, his nose brushing against your cheek. “Look at me, angel.”

You wet your bottom lip nervously as you look at him, his hazel eyes a little greener in the low light of your apartment. His legs are on either side of your hips and he brushes his thumb against your chin.

“I want to kiss you,” Spencer says lowly, albeit a little breathlessly, and you can hear hoarseness in his words. “Can I?”

You’re dead. You’re either dead or asleep, that is the only explanation you have for this entire situation. You’re either dead and in heaven or asleep and dreaming. It is that plain and simple.

“What?” You croak out, your nails digging into the skin of your thighs.

“I know you wanted to do it in a pool but I’m pretty sure your apartment gym is closed now, angel,” Spencer says, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. “Can I kiss you?”

The only thing you can manage to do is nod, your eyes flickering to his lips for a split second, watching as the corners of his mouth tug upwards. Your brain barely has any time to comprehend the words he said (since when did you say that you wanted to kiss him in the pool?) because in a rush of confidence, Spencer cups your face and presses his lips to yours in a tantalisingly slow kiss. His eyes are closed and his hands are eerily soft, the gentleness in which he holds you reminiscent of one holding porcelain.

He pulls away after a moment, his cheeks burning and a smile on his face. You can’t even breathe as you just stare at him, lips parted in surprise. What do you even say to that?

“Thank you?” You manage to stutter out, heat creeping up your neck.

He laughs again, breathless and beautiful, as he kisses the side of your face. “You’re welcome.”

Spencer brushes an eyelash from your cheek, beaming at you as he does. “It’s late,” he tells you, getting up from the couch and freeing your limbs. “You should get some rest.”

“Uh huh,” you respond, your head spinning. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he says back, trying to hold in a laugh. “I’m free next Friday. Do you want to go out?”

“Go out?” You echo, “we always go out.”

“I know.” He smiles at you again as he makes his way to the door. “I meant– you know. We can go out.”

A beat passes and your head is awfully slow, whether from the kiss or from the sleep deprivation, you’re not entirely sure. “We can go out.”

“Great.” He pauses, taking a step towards you before kissing your cheek. “I’ll text you.”

“You’ll–” you gape at him again as he opens your door to leave. “You hate texting.”

He nods, slipping on his shoes. “I also hate driving at night. Your point?”

“Right,�� you murmur, more to yourself than anything. “Text me when you get home?”

“Of course I will, angel,” he promises, “get some rest.”

Get some rest? How the hell are you supposed to get some rest after all that? With one last wave, Spencer leaves your apartment, leaving you hoping that this wasn’t just some thing. Maybe this was the very first page of your story– a very embarrassing start to your story. There is one thing for certain though: Spencer is not in love with someone else.

***

It’s a Tuesday when Penelope calls you. You had just finished up with a client when your phone begins to ring.

“Penny!” You gush, unable to stop the smile from stretching onto your face. “I am stupid, I said ‘thank you’? Who the hell says thank you after someone kisses you?”

“Who kissed you?” Penelope asks, and if you weren’t so caught up in your own tangent you would have noticed that she sounded tearful.

“Spencer did!” You exclaim, slapping a hand to your forehead. “He’s sitting there and he looks amazing and he smells really good and I am stupid.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Penelope says quickly, and you can imagine her waving her fluffy pen around. “He kissed you and you said thank you?”

“Yes.”

“Well that was very polite of you,” she says, trying to sound happy before her voice cracks.

You frown immediately, taking a seat in the wheelie chair in your office. “Penny? Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“It’s about Spencer,” she says woefully, sniffling. “He wanted me to tell you something. It’s not looking good, honey, but– but he wanted me to give you a message.”

“Penny–” You stop short when you hear Spencer’s voice. It’s a recording from his phone, and you can only really tell because of the crackling audio on the other side of the line.

“Is it on?” Spencer asks before clearing his throat. He sounds breathless, his words breaking off at some parts and you know that it’s not from the bad audio quality. “Hey, angel, it’s me, Spenc– Walter. It’s your Walter. If you’re getting this then something happened and I just wanted you to know that– that I love you. I didn’t get the chance to tell you that before but I do. I love you and I wish it didn’t turn out like this but I am– I am so glad that we had that moment.”

Through the recording you can hear a shuffle, like the sound of a sliding door being opened, along with a quiet, “Prep the victim for transfer,” before the recording cuts out, leaving you with Penelope on the line.

She calls your name quietly, choking on her words. “Are you okay?”

You hang up.

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wispystar · 2 months

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spencer reid . iv

✦ = finished | ✧ = not finished

Feel free to recommend me some more fics! If there is any author that doesn’t want their work on here pls let me know and I’ll remove it. Series are at the bottom. Be warned for spoilers. I will not be adding spoiler warnings so tread lightly. please lmk if links arent working

back to <- spencer reid . iii

—-

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Don't Go to See Her by @aperrywilliams

genre: slight angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: After the team saved Austin, the signs point that she and Spencer are romantically involved. Reader is not amused by the idea. Are her suspicions correct?

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genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Y/N is tired of waiting for Spencer to ask her out… so it’s time to take matters into her own hands

Falling For you. by @boldlyvoid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: spencer reid x BAU!reader but they’re in a secret relationship, and basically she gets him to watch all these romcoms, so when he makes a reference to something like Notting Hill or You’ve Got Mail and then the whole secret is blown.

Forgetmenot by @thepsychewrites

genre: angst, fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: You and Spencer are feeling the aftermath of the biggest fight you have ever gotten in, one that was fueled by Emily’s return, both in life and to the BAU. Will he be able to save your friendship? More importantly, is he finally ready to confess the one lie he has kept from you?

hate by @hercleverboy

genre: slight angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: #36 ↠ “Do you trust me?” “No.” #41 ↠ “You say you hate him but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

honey and glass . ii by @sarcasmandships

genre: angst, fluff, gn reader, fbi reader | summary: i am in love with spencer reid but he only has eyes for jennifer jareau

In Another Life . ii by @ssimagines

genre: angst, slight fluff, fem reader | summary: You and Spencer have been together for nearly a year. In a surprising turn of events, you find yourself looking for a way out.

Lunch Meetings by @spookydrreid

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: surprising reid at work and meeting the team

I love you, please don't break my heart by @unholyobsessions

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: Falling in love is stupid, or it was until you met him.

Maroon . ii by @wtfevenismypage

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: you're all at Rossi's mansion for the weekend for poker, pasta and cigars. Spence is getting Rossi's place ready with him, and the guys and won't shut up about how much he fancies you, and the guys all encourage him to tell you and you're at Emily's with the girls getting in the car for the weekend. They know how you feel about him, and how he feels about you. One evening, you're all super drunk and Spence blurts out his feelings for you.

Not Your Backup by @imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, angst, femr eader | summary: Following JJ’s confession, Spencer and JJ argue about her unwarranted jealousy of his girlfriend.

Reunited by @angelbaugh-writes

genre: angst, fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: coming back to the team after your breakup with spence

Sundays by @definitelynotkatesblog

genre: angst, fem reader | summary: Reader helps Spencer grieve the loss of a loved one, and loses parts of herself in the process.

secret by @avenging-fandoms

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: having a secret relationship with reid bc y'all are both working in the same field

Spencer's Secret by @thatgirlstrawberry

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: In which Spencer doesn't answer his phone and the team goes to check on him and an unfamiliar person answers the door

too little too late . ii by @multiharlot

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader | summary: spencer and y/n have been together for about eight months and she’s beginning to pick up on some things she wish she could remain oblivious to.

The Next Three Years by @think-blot

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: The past three years of your life were the best they could possibly be all because of Spencer Reid. You wish you could take the next step but his job keeps him from making it. Then he comes back from a case, ready for you to finally meet the team, and you’re none the wiser to what he has planned.

Third by @mindfullycriminal

genre: angst, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: A bombing suspect causes Spencer to react without using logic, and you’re forced to accept your place in his life.

touches . ii by @lipstickstainz

genre: fluff, angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer doesn’t like to be touched. But what happens, when he gets comfortable around you? | tw/warnings: normal crimi violence, gun, blood, injury

too late . ii by @reidamancy

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader | summary: Spencer and you never got closure after you broke up. But hidden feelings and confessions reveal themselves when you’ve been abducted. Now Spencer is forced to analyze a voicemail you left for him to try and save you before it’s too late. | tw/warnings: detailed descriptions of kidnapping , knife and gun usage, slight mentions of blood and drugs

Unrequited . ii by @cacoetheswriting

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: feelings are shared in a stressful moment | tw/warnings: normal criminal minds violence, reader being held at g"npoint

Wallpaper by @httpnxtt

genre: fluff, gn reader (derek calls reader princess once), bau reader | summary: reader is determined to make spencer smile even if it means changing his wallpaper to see his smile for a second.

—-

soulmates by @sometimesiwritebadly

genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, soulmates au, established relationship | summary: You and Spencer live in a world where soulmates can read each other’s minds. | notes: this can be read as a series or individual fics

—-

(placeholder link)

#♡ — fics #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine

203 notes · View notes

buckyysdoll · 9 months

Text

❥ @𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲𝐲𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

— marvel —

๋࣭ ⭑ — james b. barnes — ๋࣭ ⭑

╰┈➤ — ⭑ 1940s! bucky

— we’ll meet again

— heavy petting

— drive in show

»»——► fics specifically set in 40s!hydra!assassin!wife! reader fic universe:

• dating 1940s! bucky hcs — part one | part two

• [much more to come soon ♡]

╰┈➤ — ❆ winter soldier! bucky

— [none as of yet, still to come ♡]

╰┈➤ — ✪ tfatws! bucky

— dating bucky hcs

— cuddling with bucky hcs — part one | part two ➵ also has more general dating hcs

— oranges + luck

— early bird

— dad!bucky hcs

— “that’s a good girl”

— body warmth

— john fucking walker

— bucky nsfw headcanons

— 1940s bucky — “sergeant” kink

— soldat

๋࣭ ⭑ — {other} marvel — ๋࣭ ⭑

— sugar daddy! tony stark hcs

— three’s a crowd (bucky x steve x reader)

— when they’re jealous hcs (bucky, steve, nat, wanda, mcu! peter parker)

— natasha romanoff; little blurb — “giving head”

๋࣭ ⭑ — elvis presley/austin! elvis — ๋࣭ ⭑

— elvis; little intimacies hcs (can be read as elvis or austin!elvis, as wished!)

๋࣭ ⭑ — criminal minds — ๋࣭ ⭑

— aaron hotchner; little blurb — “hugs”

— aaron hotchner; little blurb — “ass or tits”

— sick with you (spencer reid x f!reader)

— aaron hotchner; soft spot

— aaron hotchner thoughts; part one |

— aaron hotchner; should’ve been there

๋࣭ ⭑ — miscellaneous — ๋࣭ ⭑

— A COURT OF THORNS AND ROSES; nesta archeron — maybe one day

๋࣭ ⭑ — the last of us — ๋࣭ ⭑

— joel miller; talking you through it

— joel miller; dating/married to him hcs

— joel miller; overstimulation kink hcs

— joel miller; little old piece of heaven

— joel miller; nsfw headcanons

— joel miller; blurb — tennessee whiskey

— joel miller; playing the long game

230 notes · View notes

aperrywilliams · 1 year

Text

Don't Go to See Her (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: After the team saved Austin, the signs point that she and Spencer are romantically involved. Reader is not amused by the idea. Are her suspicions correct?

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Some curse words (maybe more than usual, I don't know). Sleeping together is mentioned but not described. Spoilers for 4x9. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: I wrote this one based on this request. Tell me what you think!

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Founding Robert Parker's location wasn't as difficult as we thought. But we needed to be faster: the clock was ticking, and a girl's life was on the line.

Arriving at the house, we split into two groups—Morgan, Hotch, and Reid leading the first one. With Prentiss and Rossi, we stayed behind.

It was odd, though. I know Spencer doesn't like the takedowns that much, but this time he insisted on going with Morgan in the advanced group.

The commotion lasted a few seconds until Morgan assured us he had got Parker and the girl was safe. As Rossi and Prentiss entered the house to check, I saw Spencer with the girl coming out. As expected, she looked shocked but physically fine. I approached to assist them.

The poor thing was shaking and kept muttering, "I called you, I called you," which seemed strange to me, but Spencer only nodded, saying, "I know, you did very good; now you're safe."

That got my attention, but I didn't give it much thought; it could be the adrenaline of the moment affecting the girl, and Reid was just playing along.

We returned to the precinct with the unsub in custody. After Hotch interrogated him getting a full confession, we needed to finish the paperwork before going home. I couldn't help but notice Spencer wasn't there, though. What happened to him? When I saw Morgan, I asked him.

"Maybe he's with his girlfriend," he pointed, chuckling.

Spencer? Girlfriend? What did I miss?

"His what? Who?" I asked, confused.

"The girl we saved. She's a bartender. Did you know Reid charmed her the other night in the club she works? That's why she had his number and called him when she saw the unsub," Morgan recounted.

I was taken aback. I didn't know that. It made sense, though: that's why Spencer was so adamant about going first into the house. How did I not notice sooner?

"Oh. I didn't know," I mumbled.

"Yeah, it seems pretty boy got game," Morgan teased. "Do you need him for something?" He asked.

"No. Not really. Just curious. Uh - thanks, Morgan," I hastened to say before moving quickly to the precinct's kitchen.

I didn't want Derek to see me… freaking out.

Now, why should I?

Well, maybe because I have been developing a massive crush on Spencer in the past years? And maybe thinking of him with another girl was the fear I wasn't ready to face? Not yet, at least.

Okay, I know it sounds selfish, but either way, I can't bring myself to make a move on him. And I think I will never do it. That would mean ruining our friendship, and keeping Spencer as my friend is more important than this stupid crush.

It has to be.

But it didn't help that Hotch sent us to the hotel for the night, and I couldn't see Spencer in the lobby with Morgan or any team member.

He wasn't there.

Once in my room, I tried to calm down and not overthink the situation. What if they only were talking and hanging out? Maybe in a friendly manner. Nothing to worry about, right?

Or a lot to worry about.

The next morning we were all in the jet, ready to fly back home—all but Spencer.

"Where is Reid?" Hotch asked. As a cue, Spencer rushed in, mumbling apologies for being late.

He sat by my side. It wasn't uncommon for Spencer to do that. When I joined the team two years ago, I started sitting by his side. He didn't complain, and even he found in me someone who didn't bother his rambling, quite the opposite: someone who fueled his habit with delight.

What can I say? I have always felt comfortable around Spencer. We are still the youngest team members, and the flights have been more fun with us talking or just reading next to each other.

This time, Morgan and Rossi were in front of us.

"How was your night, Romeo? I didn't hear you when you came back," Morgan teased. Spencer's face flushed red as he briefly looked at me.

Oh, God. My mind ran wild, and I didn't like what I imagined. I turned my face to the window to not return my gaze to him.

"Leave the kid alone," Rossi told Morgan, maybe because he wanted to spare him the mortification of telling details of his night.

His night with the girl I was jealous of right now.

After Rossi's warning, Morgan dropped the topic and stood to get comfortable on the couch so he could sleep. David did the same but took a seat at the back of the plane. I didn't dare to look at Spencer, so I faked being asleep most of the flight. Even so, I could see from the corner of my eye how he was texting someone. From time to time, his gaze shifted to me, but I pretended not to notice.

My heart ached, but it was my fault. I shouldn't have entertained the idea of having Spencer as someone more than a friend.

For the rest of our flight, I kept my eyes closed. And when we landed, I was the first to descend from the jet to run to the car. I could hear Spencer calling my name, but I didn't turn back. I was overwhelmed, and I wanted to be at home.

It wasn't something I did on purpose, but I couldn't help it. In the following days, I paid extra attention to Spencer's behavior. He seemed happy and relaxed. He focused more on his phone during the day, and it was obvious why.

Fuck. I had lost my chance.

Son of the bitch. I bet they were dating now.

Sadness led to anger. But I knew I had no right to be angry, so I changed my attitude to distant and quiet. Spencer noticed my behavior change, and he obviously wanted to know why. So every chance he got, he asked me something, whatever came to his mind. Spencer looked extra attentive to me, worried when I hadn't eaten or drank enough water during a case. Even he brought me coffee almost every morning.

But for every gesture he made, he only got sourness from me.

The times Spencer asked me something, I gave him curt answers. The times he brought me a coffee in the morning, I usually would leave it untouched.

I know it wasn't an acceptable reaction for a grown-up woman, but I got all bitterness and couldn't help it.

"Are you okay?" He asked me in the BAU's kitchen one afternoon. I didn't even look at him.

"Yep," I replied, grabbing a mug to fill it with coffee. Spencer cleared his throat like when he was hesitant about something.

"You seem- I don't know. We haven't talked that much in the past few days; I-" Spencer stuttered. I knew he was trying to get me talking, but I didn't want it. I didn't want anything but go home a cry my eyes out.

"I guess it's because you have been busy," I muttered bitterly. But Spencer didn't hear what I said.

"What?"

"Nothing. Forget it," I said curtly, passing by him to go back to my desk.

Things between us have become even more distant since that. Spencer stopped asking me questions. The usual morning coffee ceased too. I didn't sit by his side in the jet anymore.

Now the text messages began to turn into phone calls. I could see how Spencer laughed over the phone and blushed whenever she probably said something more spicy to him. I hated perceiving all those things.

The worst part is that the team noticed it too, which was evident. For God's sake, I work surrounded by the best profilers in the country. What else could happen?

First, it was Emily who asked me if everything was okay. I lied, saying everything was just fine. Then it was Morgan telling me that he saw Spencer and me acting differently. I lied again, claiming I didn't know what he was talking about.

Even Garcia questioned me one day about my relationship with Reid.

I don't know if they believed what I told them, but at least they didn't keep asking questions.

Fighting against your own feelings is exhausting and useless to a certain extent. As much as I tried to convince myself that it was best for Spencer to have someone that wasn't me, my inner self continued to mourn for what would never be between us.

That may be why I felt like throwing up when I heard Spencer ask Hotch for days off to go on a trip. It was worse when I saw the plane ticket on his desk: a non-stop flight to Atlanta.

That afternoon we were going through some files in the conference room. Nobody else was there. So I couldn't stop my mouth.

"You never take days off," I pointed out.

Spencer's eyes shifted from the files to meet mine, and I could see his frown. At this point, we had weeks without talking about anything but work-related stuff.

"Pardon?" He asked.

I should have relented, but my lips got life on their own. Better said: my thoughts made their way out before I could stop them.

"I saw your flight ticket. You'll go to see your girlfriend?" I asked, trying to sound like it was nothing.

Spencer's face turned red, his lips pressing tightly and jaw clenched.

"Who?" He questioned, narrowing his eyes.

"The girl from Atlanta, Spencer. Who else?" I said, as it was stupid even asking that.

"Austin," he corrected. "Her name is Austin. And no, she's not my girlfriend," he said curtly.

"Whatever," I muttered, shrugging.

Spencer looked pissed. I didn't know why exactly. I thought it was clear we assumed he had a relationship with the Atlanta girl. But I kind of understood his nuisance: I didn't talk to him in a while, and I was doing it now to show my annoyance for something I didn't have the right to.

"So what if I go? Is there a problem? I have plenty of vacation days," Spencer said defensively, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know that. Since I have known you, you barely took a vacation," I commented. It was the truth. Spencer never takes days off.

It wasn't the important thing, though.

"So what is it (Y/N)? There is an issue for you?"

Spencer's question was the second call for me to let it go, but no.

"Not an issue for me, believe me. I mean, you can do whatever you want with your life," I said in the most deadpan tone possible. That way, I could cover my real feelings.

Spencer's gaze kept on me, barely blinking, waiting for what could come next.

I huffed in annoyance before continuing.

"But how much do you know this woman anyway? How can you be sure she is not playing with your feelings, uh?"

Because, of course, I had to phrase it like I was the concerned friend, not the way it indeed was: as the hurt and jealous girl.

Spencer seemed like he didn't expect what I said.

"What? Is that really what worries you?"

Of course not, genius. But I can't tell you that.

I kept silent, hoping I wouldn't give myself away if I said more words.

"What's wrong with you, people? Now everyone thinks the same fucking thing? First Morgan, then Penelope, and now you. You don't know her!"

Spencer Reid just cursed and yelled? That wasn't good.

I physically took a step back. Maybe I pushed too hard.

"That's because I worry - we worry about you. We don't want you to get hurt," I tried to explain. It was partially true. I would never find a girl who could fulfill all my expectations for Spencer, but even if I tried, I was sure Austin wasn't even at the bottom of the list.

"Get hurt? You don't know what you are talking about!" Spencer shrieked. It was good that the door was closed because, at this point, someone could have heard our argument.

"And you don't know her! What do you think? She surely flirts with a lot of guys! You are another check on her list!" I rebutted, trying to match his tone.

Was I being unfair? Most likely, but I was already on this line of reasoning. I hated myself for it because I should be honest with him. He is my friend, after all.

I was accusing a girl of something without reason, just founded on my bias and compromised judgment.

Spencer scoffed and shook his head.

"Last time I checked, I was a grown-up man (Y/N). I can make my own decisions, you know? And for the record, I could have expected this from anyone but you," he informed sternly. I saw the disappointment written all over his face.

Shit. I fucked it up. I hurt Spencer with my misconstrued speech of 'friend's worry.' It broke my heart to hear him talk that way. I needed to do something to fix it. I closed my eyes and sighed to collect my thoughts. He had the right to be pissed.

"Spencer, I know. I'm sorry. I - I didn't want to sound like you weren't an adult. I have never wanted to hurt or underestimate you. You are my friend," I tried to apologize, softening my voice.

"So why are you so upset? Don't think I didn't notice you've been avoiding me in the past weeks. Did I do something?"

Spencer seemed truly worried about my behavior.

"No, Spencer. You - you did not," I tried to reassure him. Looking at his hurt eyes, I told myself I couldn't lose him for a thing like this. If he feels happy with her, so be it. My role is to support him, not question that. "I - uh. I have been a little out of me recently. But it's not your fault. I guess I'm just a bit stressed after the last cases we had."

Great, keep lying (Y/N). Keep lying.

"It's that so? Are you sure there is not something else?" Spencer asked for confirmation, inspecting my features. What did those eyes mean? Like they were pleading for something that I didn't know.

I nodded regardless. "Yeah. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," I told him with a tiny smile.

I'll be fine. Those words were mostly for me. However, Spencer believed them because that led to stopping our argument. After we hugged, he promised to have a coffee to talk.

The coffee talk never came, though. I used all my excuses to avoid having a heart-to-heart conversation with Spencer. He tried, but I wasn't ready. Maybe I will never be prepared.

Days passed, and Spencer's trip was around the corner.

That last afternoon, he went to my desk to say goodbye. His flight was booked for the following day.

"I get going now," he announced, fidgeting with his satchel's strap. I stood to give him a tight hug.

"Have a good flight. And - uh - have fun, okay?" I mumbled after parting from our embrace and patting his chest. His lips formed a tiny smile.

"That's is what you want for me? I mean, me to have fun?" He asked shyly. I cocked my head. Was he asking for my blessing to do whatever he was thinking of doing with Austin?

"Spencer Reid. You deserve all the good things in this world. Everything that could make you happy. And if this trip is one of them, then it is what I want," I told him reassuringly.

He looked at me with that beautiful hazel eyes of his. I could have melted right there and then.

After kissing my cheek, he left the bullpen.

I stood there as if the world had just ended. Yeah, it sounds dramatic, but tell that to my poor broken heart.

Next step: rush to the bathroom to cry.

The cold tile didn't even matter. I was sitting on the floor, knees to my chest, arms around my legs. The tears ran freely. That was until I heard a knock on the door.

"(Y/N), are you there?" It was Emily.

Shit, not now, please.

"Can I come in?" She tried again. After a few minutes when I realized Emily didn't leave. I sighed in defeat and barely moved to unlock the door so she could get in.

"Hey! Are you okay?" Emily asked. Not a very assertive question. My answer could have done better.

"Ye - yeah," I sniffled, whipping my tears with the back of my hand.

"Uh - sorry, but you don't look like you are," Emily pointed. "If I have to guess, I would say something to do with Reid," she ventured.

"No. It's not like that. I mean -" I trailed off.

How could I ever explain this? Emily sat on the floor, too, by my side.

"This is about his trip to Atlanta?" I hid my head between my legs but nodded nevertheless.

"Do you think they got romantically involved, and that's why he is flying there?"

"I don't know Em. And I wish I could stop thinking about that," I muffled my words between my arms. Emily rubbed my shoulder to comfort me.

"You really like him, uh?" I tilted my head up, an embarrassed look adorning my face.

"Me? What?" Emily chuckled.

"Come on. Everybody knows (Y/N), minus Reid. Which is very unbelievable, but it's Reid. You like him. And it can be an understatement because, at this point, I would say it's more than that," she stated, now crisscrossing her legs and gazing at me for confirmation. I darted my eyes to the floor in resignation.

"Fuck. Is that obvious?" I mumbled.

"Yep," Emily pointed. "That obvious, indeed."

"But Emily. I can't. He's my friend. And I can't lose him."

That was my biggest fear, even if now I felt like I was drowning because of unrequited love.

"So you prefer to lie to him? Pretend it doesn't hurt and play the good friend card? That's not healthy. And you'll end up losing him anyway. Spencer would appreciate it if you were honest with him, and you deserve to be honest with yourself, too. He may not feel the same way, but at least you won't be hiding from your feelings. And if he's not the man for you, then you can move on without the 'what if' plaguing your mind."

I listened to her words in silence, and somehow they made all the sense in the world to me. It was just that even so, pushing myself to do something about it would be a bigger leap.

"Are you sure you didn't work as a therapist in some of your Interpol assignments?" I asked, frowning. Emily laughed.

"None of that. But I know you, and I also know Reid. Your bond, guys? It is stronger than a simple friendship. You both deserve the truth, believe me."

Maybe Emily was right. It was worse to pretend that nothing was happening. But I knew this would end up burying our friendship with Spencer.

My soul ached, but my heart was breaking from keeping my feelings to myself.

Sitting on my couch and watching TV did not help shut down my thoughts. What if I can never get over him?

Fuck it. Emily is right. He has to know.

I took my car keys and drove to his apartment. If I thought about it too much, I would surely regret it, so I just drove. It was already night, and the empty streets gave me the reassurance I needed.

Descending from my car, I noticed that my hands were sweating profusely. My head was pounding, forcing me to close my eyes to relieve some tension. I took the stairs almost on autopilot.

Now I was standing in front of his door without a clear idea of what to say—also feeling the certainty that I would be rejected.

I knocked on the door three times and waited. My mind raced to all possible scenarios.

'Calm down. You can do it.'

Spencer opened the door and saw me standing there. He seemed confused.

"(Y/N)? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He was already in his sleeping outfit. What time is it, anyway? I didn't even check my watch when I decided to come.

"Hi. Uh - sorry, I came here all of a sudden. I-"

I felt like I was going to faint at any moment. I must have looked pale because Spencer's eyes morphed from curiosity to concern.

"Hey, come in. You don't look okay. Come to sit down and tell me what's going on," he offered.

Grabbing my hand gently, he led me to his couch and made me sit.

"Do you want me to bring you a glass of water? I can find you something to eat-" I didn't let him finish.

"Don't go to see her," I blurted out. I didn't plan to say it like this. Not at all.

Spencer's frown deepened.

"What?"

"Don't go to see her before I can tell you what I have to say," I rephrased, my eyes filling with tears.

My lack of explanation led Spencer to think about what had started our argument days before.

"(Y/N), I don't understand. I thought you were okay with it. Are you going to say again that Austin is trying to take advantage of me?" He asked defensively. I shook my head, biting my lower lip.

I can't lie to him anymore. I need to tell him the truth.

"So, what is it?"

"I'm sorry. I know this will sound selfish, but I can't keep this to myself anymore-" I babbled between sobs. Spencer tried to follow my words, but I was a mess in front of him. He sat by my side on the couch, his hands on my shoulder to help me to focus.

"Hey, easy. (Y/N), you need to breathe," he instructed. I just did that. I was freaking out without explaining a word yet.

Once I felt my breathing steady, I dared to look at Spencer.

"Okay. I'll start again," I announced. Spencer nodded. "You see, I thought I would never say this to you, but I need to," I chuckled bitterly. "I - I'm not opposed to the idea of you with Austin because I'm judging her without knowing her, which is what you're thinking I'm doing. I - I'm opposed to the idea because I would have liked to be her."

Spencer's eyes widened. Did he get the message?

"What?"

"I know. It's crazy and lacks rationalism, but I have felt this for a long time. I'm so sorry I'm telling you this now. It's unfair to you. You and Austin are dating now, and I came here to say these things. I'm so sorry, Spencer."

"Wait. Are you saying you… like me?" He hesitatingly asked as if he was afraid of misunderstanding my words.

"Like you? God, I think I love you at this point," I chuckled bitterly. "I know I should have done something earlier, and now it's late, but I was afraid of losing you because of this. I was ready to be buried with this secret if that meant having you close. And I-" Spencer gently rested his hand over mine to stop my rant.

"What changed? Why are you telling me this now?" He asked, looking at me intensively. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

"I - I don't want our friendship standing over a lie. It's not fair to you, and it's not fair to me. Even if you don't want to talk to me again, I would have to live with that," I concluded, averting my gaze.

"Hey," he said softly, with his fingers on my chin, tilting my head to return my look to him. "Why I wouldn't talk to you again?"

"Because I ruined our friendship? I mean, I have been a total bitch with you in the past weeks, and now you are in a relationship with Austin. I-" Spencer didn't let me finish this time.

"Stop saying that. I'm not in any relationship with anyone. Where you got that?" He asked.

What? Wasn't it obvious?

"I - uh. That's why you're flying to Atlanta. Right? Well, maybe you two are not official yet, but there is something between you both," I concluded.

Spencer chuckled, shooking his head.

Wait, what? Why was Spencer chuckling?

"There is nothing between us. I mean, romantically speaking. We get along pretty well; we are friends. That's all."

I looked at him suspiciously. Spencer grabbed my hand and kept talking.

"Believe me. Nothing had happened and never will happen between us. And do you know why? Because I'm already in love with my best friend."

I wonder if I fully registered what he was saying. Was he in love with someone else? With his best friend? Wasn't me his best friend? Oh. Oh!

"You-?"

"Yes,” he nodded. “And not in my wildest dreams did I think you could feel anything close to that for me.”

"How come you never told me anything?" I asked, still in shock.

"I guess I can ask the same thing," he sneered. I chuckled.

"But how? I mean, are you serious? Not because I just confessed my love for you?" I questioned, suddenly feeling anxious that Spencer only felt sorry for me.

"Can I give you proof that I'm serious?" He asked me almost in a whisper, subtly flicking his gaze between my eyes and lips.

I might pass myself out at that point. But I was not going to let this moment go away, which already seemed like a dream. I barely nodded, looking at him expectantly.

He scooted closer to me on the sofa, slowly bringing his hands to each of my cheeks to cup them. Without breaking eye contact, he whispered, "I love you (Y/N). I have been in love with you for a long time.”

"I love you too, Spencer,” I said back. Spencer smiled and leaned to kiss my lips.

The kiss started with us just brushing our lips tentatively. Then it was more determined but soft and sweet, one of his hands behind my head, the other cupping my jaw. My arms around his neck.

Fucking shit, I was kissing Spencer. A kiss that took years in the making.

His lips were warm and plump. A bit chapped, but I didn't care. I would have stayed like this forever, kissing him until my own lips went numb.

Before the kiss turned more heated, we parted—a grin plastered on our faces. But suddenly, my mind brought me to reality.

"Wait. Then what about Austin?" I asked.

It couldn't be that I had imagined everything I'd seen in these last few weeks, right?

"What do you mean?" Spencer questioned, softly stroking my cheek.

"You both-? I mean, the calls? The night you spent together? This trip? Are you sure you didn't-" I trailed off. Spencer giggled, a redness covering his features. After clearing his throat, he spoke.

"Would you believe me if I told you everything you just mentioned has to do with you?"

"Whit me? I don't understand." Spencer nodded, bringing my hand to his lips to kiss my knuckles.

"You'll see. When we arrested Parker, you helped me to lead Austin to the ambulance. Once there, she was calmer and began asking me questions about work, what would happen to Parker, and other stuff. I tried to explain a bit, and that's when you came over to let me know that we were going back to the station. When you turned to the car, I stared at you for a second—enough for her to notice. ‘Uh-oh. FBI Reid has a crush,’ she told me. I don’t know how she knew, but she knew. It’s funny because I have denied that fact for years, but I couldn’t lie to her. So I tell her everything,” Spencer shrugged.

“You told a stranger you loved me?” I asked in shock.

“Sort of? That night, I spent hours with her in the same bar. But mostly, it was me, after drinking several scotches, talking about how wonderful you were and that I didn’t know what to do, that you were my friend, and I was conflicted. She gave me advice, you know? That I needed to do something. To show you I cared. The texts? They were to track my progress with you and give me more ideas to get to you.”

“The gestures. The coffee in the mornings. The snacks. You asking me about anything that could happen to me,” I recounted. Spencer nodded.

That started to make sense now.

“But you seemed upset. You barely talked to me. So I was sad and lost. I already trusted Austin with this. I couldn’t go to JJ or Emily. It was complicated. I couldn’t go to you for obvious reasons.”

“So the trip is-“

“A chance to clear my head and get used to the idea that nothing would happen between us. I was positive when you told me you wanted me to be happy. I understood that doesn’t include being with you romantically,” Spencer admitted, pouting.

“Oh, my God. Spencer. We both were so so wrong. What kind of profilers are we? I was sure you both were dating. I was sure you slept with her that night. I’m so embarrassed now,” I shrieked.

“And I thought you were worried because you didn’t want your dork friend to be tricked by a girl. Because you cared about me, but just like a friend,” he said, shoulders slumped.

This time I grabbed his hands in mine.

“I wasn’t honest with you about my feelings. But I’m not going to make the same mistake again. I promise,” I leaned in to kiss him. Spencer reciprocated right away.

“Me neither,” he whispered, pecking my lips again. “So I guess now I don’t have a flight to catch tomorrow,” Spencer pointed as he wrapped his arms around me. I looked at him.

“Why do you say that?” I asked casually. Spencer raised an eyebrow.

“Weren't you the one who came saying not to go?” I chuckled.

“I said, ‘don’t go to see her.’ But a short vacation trip to Atlanta doesn't sound like a bad idea, only if that includes me,” I suggested cockily. Spencer laughed.

“Oh yeah? And how would we make that work?”

“I have many vacation days, you know? Hotch wouldn’t say no to me,” I winked at Spencer. He looked at me mischievously.

“If that is so, then I have many plans for you on this trip,” Spencer said, leaning in to give me a passionate kiss that left me breathless and seeing stars.

After all, things were not as they seemed to be. Spencer wasn't in a relationship with the girl from Atlanta, my love wasn't unrequited, and Spencer was just as overwhelmed by his feelings as I was. Someone would say, ‘they are made for each other.’ What can I say? I totally agree with that statement.

Oh! and another important thing I need to remember: once in Atlanta, I have to visit Austin to tell her I don't hate her and that I’m kind of grateful she crossed paths with us.

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Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @thebloomingeagle @pauline5525mgg @maltamurdock @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!bau!reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #don’t go to see her #4x9

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caernys · 10 months

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i only dream (when i'm lying down)

relationship: spencer reid x reader, romantic pairing (part one)

summary: you're an agent of the violent crimes division of the fbi and you’ve fallen in love with spencer reid.

notes: part two! also posted on my AO3 account, kitkat_katsuki

warnings: vague mention of dead body (the shooter) and mild use of firearms

part one -> part two

you don’t shake hands. it’s a thing you’ve had since childhood— an aversion to touch and skin to skin contact. it’s stupid, you know, but everytime you go to peel off your gloves another statistic goes clicking through your head (a study conducted by researches at the institute of biological, environmental and rural sciences at aberystwyth university showed that a handshake passed about 124 million colony forming units of e-coli) and you’re pulling back your palm to wipe nervously on the hem of your shirt.

it’s been interpreted a lot of ways. a sense of superiority, some propose. others spit about a god complex, or just a plain old lack of basic etiquette. it doesn’t help that immediately after you’re proudly introduced as a “genius” by your ssa, left to stand there awkwardly while stevens brags about your iq (192), how fast you can read (30,000 words per minute), or your photographic memory (eidetic, you’re always itching to correct).

but you’re used to it. before your mother passed, she used to pull you tight at night and work her hands into your neck, whispering about how you were perfect just the way you were. it wasn’t your fault people got threatened when confronted with someone they perceived to be above them. it didn’t stop the harsh, barbed words that would always be hurled at you, but it did soften the blow.

your mother had always said you were meant for greater things than your dinged up apartment in la and your run down elementary school. she’d urged you time and time again to go where your brilliant mind was taking you, but you always turned her down. just because you could memorize a dictionary in seven minutes didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the fifth grade.

when she got stabbed for refusing to give over her purse in a mugging (and subsequently bled out over the dirty pavement, screaming and alone) you cried for the first time in years. you’d never been one to cry— your father had beat it into you long ago before your mother had managed to whisk you away half across the country. you gave yourself forty eight hours. then you dried your cheeks and took a placement test.

the administrator had been shocked, at first. you knew you had aced it. it hadn’t been that hard. when she had told you with slightly shaking hands that she recommended skipping you all the way to highschool (college was on the table too, she said, but you just shook your head. that was a bit too far of a jump). she enrolled you into your senior year of highschool, and you had rocked back on your heels with a satisfied grin. it was a tribute to your mother, you told yourself. one day you were going to stand at the top of the world and you were going to be able to tell her that you had let your brilliant mind take you all the places she had told you about. (of course, she hadn’t mentioned some things.)

you got thrown into a locker the first day of school. they were seventeen, going on eighteen— you were eleven. as smart as you were, it wasn’t hard to put together the conclusion that harassment like this was always going to be inevitable. unavoidable.

you’d swing by the drug store on the way back from school, buy a tiny tube of concealer to dab on in the denny’s bathroom before heading back to the “flavor of the month” foster home. you got bounced around a lot. couldn’t blame them.

you were three months into your senior year when you met austin. she was pretty. long, auburn hair and natural make up. high cheekbones and sharp, angular lines that made up her face. she told you she had lost her parents young, and she fostered to give other kids the childhood she never had. you didn’t trust her. you never trusted anyone.

she was, surprisingly, the first one who finally got a clue. it doesn’t match your skin tone, she’d told you, rubbing the concealer off your face with a wet rag. you didn’t flinch away from her touch and she smiled all soft at you. she was alright, you guess.

austin offered to step in. she might not be your actual parent, she had vowed, but she could make hell in the school system until those kids were reprimanded. you had laughed, assured her it was fine. it wasn’t, but this was one of those things you had to deal with yourself.

she’d been frustrated, but understood. after a couple more days of you coming back a little rough around the edges, though, she had snapped— and offered to teach you how to fight. you had accepted. seemed like a valuable skill to have, didn't it?

austin owned a gym a twenty minute drive from your house. the mats in there quickly became a safe space for you, a shelter of training and quiet and peace. you took to taekwondo immediately, transitioning from there into hapkido and jiu-jitsu, muay thai and just about anything else you could get your hands on. your frame began to fill in with wiry muscle and you began to catch the punches before they hit you.

after you beat harry summers into a bloody pulp by the water fountain after he tried to reach a hand up your skirt, people began to back off. you’d been suspended for five weeks but austin had squeezed your shoulder proudly on the way to the car. you’d let her. she would adopt you five months, three days, four hours and thirty two seconds later. (an eidetic memory did have its perks.)

the fbi recruited you when you were fifteen and at mit, hacking their servers on a drunk dare. you had done it after eight shots, and they had never been more delighted to their code so mercilessly destroyed.

they couldn’t take you on as an agent until you were of age, so you stayed a shadowed consultant for the three years, sorting through case files between lectures and research papers.

you signed away your life to them when you were eighteen and got a badge and a gun in exchange. it was an even trade, you mused. (the first time you would fire that gun you were quivering and bloody, beaten and scratched, but your hands were steady when you pulled the trigger. grayson davids, a serial murderer, died that day. when you got to hug a mother and tell her the man who had taken her daughter would never hurt anyone again, you found that you didn’t regret it.)

austin would always force you home on weekends. she’d moved to dc to be closer to you, and you would spar for old times sake in the living room, tackling each other over pillows and chasing around the kitchen counter. you found that you loved her, one rainy saturday when you were 19. you called her mom for the first time a week later, and you both cried.

you met penelope garcia at a party and you were instantly enraptured. technology seemed to bow to her will and you’d spent the entire night together, drinking and laughing and dancing. you kissed her in the bathroom and she’d sighed all pretty, leaning forward to snake a hand around your neck.

you’d left the party happy and floating for the first time in years. (though you loved penelope to pieces, you two had parted as friends that night.)

she’d often call you with questions or invite you over with movie nights, though you’d always end up bent over a computer with her, nudging each other and laughing as your fingers flew over the keys. she never asked about your job. you never asked about hers. it was widely understood that penelope garcia’s house was a serial-killer free space.

at least, it had been until she’d gotten shot on the steps of her apartment. you’d gotten a call from her late the next day, and you had flown into a nervous panic. you couldn’t lose her– couldn’t bare to lose anyone ever again. at the hospital, she’d held your hands and cried into your arms, and assured you that there would be police outside of her house. you had dismissed that, offered to stay over, but apparently a member of the fbi had already beat you to it.

you’d asked her if she trusted him. she’d responded, “with my life.”

so you had relented. gone home, took your phone off of silent, set it right next to your bed. she didn’t call, so you assumed everything was alright. (it wasn’t).

the next day you swung by her office with a jar of peanut butter cookies to leave on her desk. she loved them, and you’d figured it was a nice thing to come back to.

instead you found a police officer with a gun pressed to the temple of an fbi agent, and two men from penelope’s team standing in front of him, hands raised. you recognized him from a sketch an artist had made penelope complete the other day at the hospital. you shot him in the back of the head, bullet shattering the glass.

the room was silent. the man was dead. your hands, as always, were steady.

(you would meet spencer reid exactly twenty five minutes and thirteen seconds later.)

#romance #fic #Spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #no yn #x reader #fem reader #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #reader is super smart #smart reider #see what I did there #ok im making a lot of stuff up and its kind of obvious

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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year

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fic recommendations part six!

Hello everyone I am back again with some more fic recommendations! Like last time, here is a fair warning that the list is going to be long because I didn’t realize how many fics I had saved until I went through them looking for a specific one to re-read the other day and was scrolling for a solid five minutes.

Also, I am absolutely not sorry for how many Eddie Munson/Joseph Quinn fics are on this list.

Here’s the links to the first five fic recommendation posts: part one part two part three part four part five

Note: any stories marked * are smutty

distant ~ andy barber* by @cevansbrat0007

swimming lessons ~ thomas shelby* by @vintunnavaa

wet dreams ~ steve harrington* by @judeswhore

steve harrington finds out his girlfriend is pregnant by @gxthicwxrm

don’t move ~ steve harrington by @h4rringt0nswife

scoops and spies ~ steve harrington by @sagewritings

daisy ~ thomas shelby by @peakyswift

table read ~ joseph quinn by @nazifa94

nice fucking try ~ eddie munson by @itsoutrageouss

the color green ~ eddie munson* by @sunflowersteves

eddie munson dating a mean fem!cheerleader who is only nice to him by @kissitbttr

i’ll be gentle ~ eddie munson* by @eddiethebanishedhq

camping ~ eddie munson* by @munson-trashcan

deceiver ~ thomas shelby by @valentine-in-my-quinjet

you. this. us ~ sebastian stan by @time-for-a-library

never too much ~ eminem* by @slimshay-castle

cold ~ geralt of rivia by @mandos-things

spin the bottle ~ maddy perez by @kaicubus

angsty bucky x reader fic by @imyourbratzdoll

lloyd hansen x reader fic by @imyourbratzdoll

the great war ~ harry styles* by @goldengalore

harryween ~ harry styles* by @shroombloomm

candied oranges ~ spencer reid by @spencersawkward

nonsense ~ wednesday addams by @msgorillagripcoochie

it’s not fair ~ eddie munson by @toxic-aries

thirty seconds ~ austin butler* by @sargeant-bxrnes

emeralds and pearls* by @rayslittlekitten

smutty christmas joseph quinn fic* by @choke-me-joey

angsty eddie x reader fic by @forever-rogue

baby bump ~ spencer reid by @michelle-is-writing

blue version 1* and version 2* ~ joseph quinn by @quinnsbower

eyes open ~ joseph quinn by @faithinus

eddie munson x shy!reader by @keeryshouse

#harry styles #spencer reid #steve harrington #joseph quinn #eddie munson #bucky barnes #chris evans #thomas shelby #wednesday addams #maddy perez #imagines #fanfictions #fic recommendations

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strngtsblog · 5 months

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Secrets we keep | part 1

Spencer Reid x Reader

A smart young man and an introvert young woman who connected the day she got into the BAU. This is the story of Y/N Parker and Spencer Reid. What challenges will they face?Is she such an angel like everyone says? Everyone hides demons, but only some will get haunted by those they hide.

October 23rd.

The day I heard a familiar name after so many years. A new case dragged us to Charleston, where 4 children went missing. On our way , Garcia filled us in with information. “4 children went missing in the last 3 weeks. Clarke Benson, Jason Mill, Conrad Ashwell and Noah Evans. Last time they were seen was by their parents before they went to school. No bodies found yet” I think Hotch might have noticed my worried look I tried to hide after hearing it. The name. “ Y/N are you okay?” I just nod and read through the file to get out of this situation.Spencer must have noticed it too because he was looking at me like he wanted to fire holes in me. By the time we got to the police department the parents of Noah Evans were waiting. “Spencer and JJ drive to the other families, Y/N, Morgan and Rossi will get everything ready in our room and Prentiss and I will talk to the Evans.” Hotch says. As we walked the corridor I shortly glanced over them. I think he saw me but I simply looked away and walked into the room.

After Hotch and Emily were done talking to them and the others came back we collected all the information we got and started to create the profile.

“So we know that the unsub goes for 7 year old boys which are more kind of the type that does not get much attention in school” Morgan explains. “Well we also know that all of the boys have a younger sibling I think that’s important as well.” I threw in the room. I can’t stop thinking about it god.I was close to zoning out but a police man barged into the room “A body was found.” I was praying that it was not him. When we got there the body was wrapped in a blue blanket. “Do we know who he is?” I ask “It’s Jason Mill” a police man answers. “It seems like the unsub felt guilty for his actions, Jason also has multiple bruises around his wrists so he might have been tied up.” JJ points out. “Due to his clothing the unsub must have some clothes for change because that weren’t the things he wore the day he went missing.” Spencer tells us. Me and Spencer made our way to Jason’s family to tell them the sad news. In the car, Spencer tries to talk to me. “Could it be that you might know Maxwell Evans?” It came out so dry that I even was surprised he noticed anything. “Why are you asking Spence?” “Just wondering I noticed he looked at you quite a while that’s all.” I bit my lip debating if I should tell him. “Well, uh I’ll tell you but you can’t tell Hotch alright? At least not yet.” He nods. “So Max is my brother, we haven’t seen each other in years, 5 years to be exact.” Spencer just stares at me “So that makes Noah your nephew right?” “Yes” I nervously tap my fingers on the wheel but before Spencer could say anything we were at the Mill’s house. We knocked and when they opened the door we asked if we can come in. “So we unfortunately have bad news” That was all it took for them to burst out in tears. We told them that if they need anything they can call us before we drove back to the police department.

“The autopsy report says that he was tied up with a rope and they found a asbestos in his lungs” Garcia informed us “ Garcia can you look up if there are some old buildings contaminated with asbestos?” Spencer says. “Yes there are two one is at Ashley Avenue and the other one is at Milford Street a guy named Austin Byron bought the buildings before the local health department has decided to close them. ” “Alright Morgan,Prentiss and I drive to Ashley Avenue and the rest to Milford street. We walked into the building as we heard some glass shattering. I walked to the last room when I saw him “Hey stop” I yelled. He ran away with Noah in his arms I wanted to run after him when I saw Clarke and Conrad lazing there. I heard the other appear behind me. “Is that-?” JJ starts. “That’s gas he wants to burn down the whole thing we must get out” Rossi says “You take the boys and go out I will get Noah”I say “Okay” They say as we saw a huge orange light. ”Shit he started the fire Y/N you must come with us” JJ says. I just shake my head and run after him. “Stop right there Austin! I know why you’re doing this.” I shout. He stops dead in tracks.“ Yeah right.“ “our father hurt you and you try to get the control back by doing the same to them but they didn’t deserve this just as you didn’t deserve this” He must feel more guilty now because he lays Noah down. I took the opportunity to shoot him in the lower body to stop him from running. “I will get him out” I hear Spencer behind me. As we walked towards the door and he walked out something exploded and the only exit was now completely on fire.

Dun Dun Dun sorry for the cliffhanger lol.

It’s the first time writing a fanfic so I would appreciate some feedback

Anyways the next chapter might come in the next few days

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #x reader #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #fanfic

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briaroftheroses · 2 months

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Request Rules

I’m finally getting around to writing out my request rules! If you would like to request a fic, hc set, drabble, etc. please read over these rules before submitting. Please also check this post regularly as I will add things as I go.

Things I Will Write For

Fem/GN reader, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, dark themes/fics, praise, degradation, use of strap ons, p in v, creampies, throat fucking, both m and f receiving oral, multiple characters in one fic, choking, impact play, mild pain play, bondage (nothing with legs being restrained though), d/s dynamics, BDSM, dub-con/non-con, piss, boot play/worship.

Things I Will Not Write For

Male reader, character x character with no reader, beastiality, pedophilia, scat, underage characters, heavy blood play, non-canon character death (except for in the case of things like murder house and hotel in which they would become a ghost), gore, real-life people (such as actors), even though I might write for dom reader please do not request it.

If there’s anything not mentioned here, feel free to ask before making a request.

Characters I Write For

Evan Peters

Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Austin Sommers, Peter Maximoff, Warren Lipka, Luke Cooper, feel free to ask about any others that aren’t here (please no spoilers for any season of AHS after Freak Show as I haven’t finished the show yet)

AHS

Vivien Harmon, Violet Harmon (platonically), Billie Dean Howard (only in Murder House currently), Alma Walker, Lana Winters, Sister Mary Eunice McKee, Zoe Benson, Marie Laveau, Madison Montgomery (depending on the request), Cordelia Foxx/Goode, Misty Day, Fiona Goode, young!Fiona Goode, Amazon Eve, Desiree Dupree, Dandy Mott, The Countess, Sally McKenna, Ramona Royale (please no spoilers for Hotel in any requests as I haven’t finished it yet).

Matthew Gray Gubler

Spencer Reid, Chip Taylor, Thorn (King Knight), Raymond (Suburban Gothic), Wes (Dollface), Paul ((500) Days of Summer), feel free to ask about any others that aren’t here

Criminal Minds

Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner, Penelope Garcia, Jennifer Jareau, Elle Greenaway, Cat Adams, feel free to ask about any others that aren’t here

WWE

Rhea Ripley, Dominik Mysterio, TJD (only if including Rhea), Liv Morgan, Becky Lynch.

this list will be updated regularly as i watch more shows/movies/seasons of ahs, so feel free to check regularly :) also feel free to ask about characters not listed, but there is no guarantee i will write for them.

#briars navigation #request rules

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polksaladbutler · 1 year

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[UPDATE] : i scrapped the fic i was working on, there was no point in salvaging it because it was awful😭! my inbox deleted everything in there idk why🙁. pls request something, i am vv desperate as u can see lol

#austin butler x reader #billy hargove x reader #spencer reid x reader #eddie munson x reader #peter parker imagine #billy hargove imagine #austin butler imagine #eddie munson imagine #spencer reid imagine

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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 years

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MASTERLIST

All my Oneshots/Series are listed below:

Most (if not all) are over 1k words.

Eddissy:

Found Family

Steve Harrington:

Talking About It part 1/4 -> Steve Harrington x Henderson!OC

Talking About It part 2/4

Talking About It part 3/4

Talking About It part 4/4

Ride or Die -> Steve Harrington x OC

Dean Winchester:

A Winchester’s Daughter 1/? -> Dean Winchester x Daughter!OC (B99 crossover)

A Winchester’s Daughter 2/?

A Winchester’s Daughter 3/?

Demon In Love -> Dean Winchester x OC

Love In The Bureau 1/? -> Dean Winchester x Steve/Peggy Daughter!OC - AU!Agent Dean

Love In The Bureau 2/?

Love In The Bureau 3/?

Love In The Bureau 4/?

Love In The Bureau 5/?

Love In The Bureau 6/?

Two Hunters and A Baby -> Dean Winchester x OC

Can You Picture It? Us? -> Dean Winchester x OC

Folding Laundry -> Dean Winchester x OC (or fe!reader)

Saying "I Love You" -> Dean Winchester x Fe!reader

Wedding Day Disaster -> Dean Winchester x Fe!OC

Childhood Crush -> Dean Winchester x Fe!OC(Zoey)

Old Friends, Old Cars and New Love -> Dean Winchester x Fe!OC (Peggy)

Spencer Reid:

A Life of Shocks and Promises 1/? -> Spencer Reid x Austin

A Life of Shocks and Promises 2/?

New Recruit -> SR x OC

New Neighbour -> SR x OC

Best-Friends In Love -> SR x JJ (Jeid)

Castiel Novak:

I'm Yours -> Castiel x Fe!Reader

Solider Boy:

A Soldier in Montana -> Solider Boy x Fe!OC

Beau Arlen:

Dance with me, Darlin’ -> Beau Arlen x Reader

I Can Feel You -> Beau Arlen x Fe!OC (reader if you wish)

Last Minute Customer -> Beau Arlen x Reader

Steve Rogers:

Falling In Fall -> Steve Rogers x OC (female - Noelle Harlow)

Tell Me What We Are -> Steve Rogers x OC (Female - Isla)

Peter Parker:

Christmas Movies and Kisses -> Peter Parker x Fe!OC (Alex)

I’m In Love (With My Best Friend) -> Peter Parker x Fe!Reader

The Look Of Terror -> Peter Parker x Fe!Reader

A Moment Of Everything -> Peter Parker x Fe!Reader

Bruce Wayne/Batman:

Drowning In Love -> Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fe!OC (Althea)

Javier Peña:

Durazno -> Javier Peña x Fe!OC/Reader (Last name; Becker)

Secure -> Javier Peña x Fe!Reader

Kiss In Stitches -> Javier Pena x Fe!Reader/OC (Last Name; Jackson)

Blood Washed Away -> Javier Pena x Fe!Reader

To Shitty Days and Shitty Families -> Javier Pena x Fe!Reader

Din Djarin:

Without Logic, or Reasoning -> Din Djarin x Fe!Reader

Anthony Lockwood:

Wake Me Up (And Hold On To Me) -> Lockwood x Fe!Reader

Bloody Pardon -> Lockwood x Fe!Reader

Bloody Pardon 2 -> Lockwood x Fe!Reader

Bloody Pardon 3 -> Lockwood x Fe!Reader

Bloody Pardon 4 -> Lockwood x Fe!Reader

Freak Like Them -> Lockwood x Fe!Reader (more found family with all Lockwood and Co)

Message From Iris -> Lockwood x Fe!Reader

Punch At First Sight -> Lockwood x Fe!Reader

Joel Miller:

To You -> Joel Miller x Fe!Reader

Written In The Stars -> Joel Miller x Reader (is Fe! but no use of pro-nouns in the fic)

Quiet Crushes -> Joel Miller x Fe!Reader

Javi Gutierrez:

Cambiando El Mundo -> Javi G x Reader

Clint Barton:

Out Of Depth (But We’ll Be Okay) -> Clint Barton x Fe!Reader (18+)

In Love -> Clint Barton x Fe!Reader (16+)

Oberyn Martell:

Dove -> Oberyn Martell x Fe!Reader

Loki Laufeyson:

Everything Little Thing (Is Magic) -> Loki x Fe!Reader

Detecting Love -> Loki x Fe!Reader

Billy The Kid:

Don’t Waste A Second -> Billy the Kid x Fe!Reader (16+)

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almostgenerallyalways · 11 months

Text

Far from where we live / I have not learned to forgive (pt 2)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem reader Category: angst / multi-chapter / case / second chance Word count: 2,1k CW: language, canon typical violence pt 2 - Part 1 here

“I was remediated in the academy also... what was my issue? Marksmanship, physical training, obstacle course, Hogan's Alley, you know, pretty much everything that wasn't technically book related. They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field.”

Called to Texas on a case, Spencer is confronted with a ghost.

The downtown Austin Super 8 has the advantage of proximity to the police department, but its charms end there. The view from Spencer’s room is that of the other side of the elevated highway, headlights streaking the limp net curtains as cars speed by. A sign on a telephone pole at the entrance to the oil-stained parking lot proclaims Jesus Saves.

Spencer sighs and gives up trying to fiddle with the air conditioning. Nothing he’s doing seems to make a lick of difference to the stifling temperature of the room. (“I’m sorry we couldn’t put you guys up somewhere nicer,” Nguyen had said, apologetic, “the APD’s budget mostly goes to tricked out golf carts to creep down 6th Street with so the mayor can say we’re doing something about the loud drunks. Homicide gets the scraps.”)

He decides to walk up to the second level, where a deck overlooks a pool that’s seen better days. It looks almost nice in the dark, lit from below the water’s surface, and at least the night air is a relief to feel on his skin. He sits down on a rickety lounger, thinking back to the afternoon.

The case isn’t sitting right with him. Three dead girls in three weeks, no leads. The team had spent the afternoon being briefed on the work done so far, and independently confirming information with Penelope’s help.

Sometimes, just going over the work done by some Podunk police force a second time was enough to unlock a case. Things were missed, leads overlooked, resources sometimes scarce. But everything that passed through Spencer’s hands this afternoon checked out.

He had to give it to you and Nguyen – you knew what you were doing.

Hearing footsteps on the cement stairs, he turns to find Derek rounding the corner. “Hey, kid. Too hot in your room, too?”

Spencer smiles wryly as Derek settles down on a lounger of his own, the metal creaking under his weight. “You know, they called me ‘kid’ back at the Academy too. I hated it, until I didn’t.”

Derek regards him in that pensive way of his, elbows resting on his knees. “So. Wanna tell me what’s up with you and the pretty detective?”

Spencer turns away, letting his gaze focus on some dead leaves at the bottom of the pool. “Ancient history.”

There’s no reply, and Spencer knows the other man is waiting him out, waiting for him to fill the silence. Annoyingly, he finds he wants to.

“Remember how my friend Ethan from school went to the Academy with me and then dropped out immediately?”

Derek nods, giving him space to continue.

He sighs. “That’s when I met her. Detective Valdez,” he mimes air quotes around your name, still not used to it. Truth be told, he’d never imagined you taking a man’s name.

“We all called her Dallas back then, it was kind of a joke.” Despite himself, he smiles. “She and I were some of the youngest in the class and we just sort of bonded, I guess. We’d help each other.” He sighs, folding his hands together. “We got really close.”

Derek’s left eyebrow shoots up, but he still doesn’t say anything. Spencer feels himself coloring and looks away.

He hasn’t thought about you like that in years.

“Anyway,” He clears his throat, “Then two weeks before the end of our training, she up and left. Just like Ethan, except she wouldn’t even explain.”

He shakes his head, hoping to suppress the emotion in his voice. “I didn’t get it. She was so close to graduating, and she was good. I wouldn’t have made it through without her, and she literally just left me.”

“Pretty boy.” Derek keeps his voice low. “She never told you why?”

“No.” He leans his forehead to his clasped hands. “She called me a few times, months later, around the time I was recruited to the BAU, but I was too angry by then to hear it. I picked up one day and told her to go to hell.”

He looks up at Derek, but the other man’s eyes are unreadable. “It may seem ridiculous; the Academy’s twenty weeks, I knew her for less than five months. But at the time she was my only ally in the world. We were inseparable.”

Derek shakes his head slowly. “No, man. That doesn’t seem ridiculous to me at all.”

Spencer gets up, suddenly unable to sit there any longer. “Yeah, well. It broke my heart when she left. And now she’s here, and she’s married, and we have to spend God knows how long together solving a case that seems to be completely deadlocked.”

* * *

10 years ago, MCB Quantico, VA

It’s the Sunday of the first week of training, and Spencer is quietly marveling at the fact that he made it through the week alive.

Well, he may also be quietly marveling at you, stretched out on your stomach in the grass before him. You flip a page in the book you’re reading, propping your chin up with your elbow, which causes your Bureau-issued navy-blue t-shirt to ride up slightly, revealing a stretch of the smooth skin of your back.

Spencer quickly looks back down into his own book.

This Sunday afternoon is the first ‘free’ time the recruits have, though they have to stay on base. Leave privileges aren’t granted until three weeks in, so the two of you had decided to review coursework in a shaded spot on the lawn outside the dormitories.

This morning, the whole class got their first walk-through of Hogan’s Alley, the base’s mock training ground built to look like an actual town. Then, because there had been too much chatter amongst the group, Lemoore had sent them on a five-mile run.

Spencer had heard that people started to enjoy running, eventually. You sure seemed to have no problem with it, even getting up at the crack of dawn to run around the base for fun. For him, it hadn’t happened yet – to the contrary, he seemed to hate each run more than the last.

Suddenly you groan, and it startles him enough that he drops his book. “Spencer. I’m never going to get this. I might as well go back to Texas right now.”

He scoots over, using his hands, to examine the chapter of Forensic DNA Typing: Biology and Technology Behind STR Markers you’re currently faceplanting on. “What, this? This is easy.”

You raise your head at him, your expression miserable. “Thanks, Doctor Three-PhD’s-at-twenty-one. Some of us mere mortals got C’s in biology in high school.”

He chuckles. “No, I mean, I can help you with this. I read this book last year.”

Plucking at a few blades of grass, he adds: “I should be the one panicking, about firearms training tomorrow. You were with the Border Patrol for two years, you’ve got actual experience. I’m not sure I can even lift a gun, let alone shoot one.”

You gasp and roll over onto your back, looking up at him. “Spencer, you genius.”

He freezes, momentarily distracted by the way you look, lying down, eyes shining up at him as you bite your lip to keep from grinning. “What?”

You prop yourself up, leaning back on your elbows planted in the grass. “It’s the perfect solution. I help you with your marksmanship training, the physical requirements, whatever you need. You help me through the forensic science. We can get through this together.”

Spencer nods slowly, mulling it over. It’s not a bad plan. “We can?”

You break into a smile and hold your right hand out to him. “Together. I will do everything in my power to make sure we both see this thing through to the end. Pinky swear.”

He feels a matching grin begin to break out across his face. “I’m not sure FBI agents pinky swear.”

You hook your finger around his, and the small skin-to-skin contact makes the back of his neck tingle. “Good thing we’re only trainees then.”

* * *

Present

A short and clammy night of sleep had been interrupted by a phone call from Hotch at 6 AM, letting the team know that another body had been found.

Spencer looks at her now, strung up against the unforgiving concrete column supporting the overpass. Her head lolls to the side, eyes open but unseeing. Her arms are spread wide, tied up high with her palms up, like a mockery of Jesus on the cross.

The Texas sun is already high in the sky despite the early hour, illuminating particles of dust and pollution in beams of light reaching their feet, slanting under the tar-covered carriageway above.

“He’s mocking us,” Nguyen says. His tone is flat, but Spencer notices the detective is clutching his hands into fists so tight the skin pales. “He’s never left a body this close to downtown before.”

Crime scene technicians and APD uniformed officers move in Spencer’s periphery, giving the detectives and agents space to make their own observations. An ambulance has taken away the gas-station attendant who found the body on his way into work, overcome with shock.

The young woman is naked but for her tennis shoes, which are streaked with blood. Spencer is used to depravity, has seen it all in his 10 years at the BAU – and yet, this scene is turning his stomach.

“No outward signs of sexual assault.” You say beside him. “We’ll have the ME confirm, but if he’s repeating the pattern of the previous three cases, there won’t be.” Your voice is steady, but Spencer still knows you well enough to hear the raw undercurrent.

He watches you roll up the sleeves of your white linen shirt and notes you look tired this morning, more so than yesterday. If he doesn’t look too closely, he can see you exactly as you were ten years ago, but then he blinks and before him is this incongruous woman, you-but-not-quite: A badge and Smith & Wesson at her belt, a semi-permanent worry line etched beside her left brow.

A version of you he doesn’t know anymore.

You haven’t looked straight at him since he got to the scene.

Behind him, Hotch is on the phone to Penelope, who is just getting into the office in Eastern Standard Time. JJ is talking to the crime scene techs further along under the overpass, while Derek comes up next to Spencer, along with two uniformed officers.

You step closer to the body. “I’m not a profiler, but the lack of sexual assault combined with the clear need to humiliate these women and put them on display is telling.” Turning to Spencer and Derek, you ask: “What would you say?”

Derek answers for the both of them: “Classic sexual sadist who can’t perform. He needs to exert control, to feel above them.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer hears you say, but you’re no longer talking to them: You’re addressing the young woman, softly. “I’m sorry we didn’t stop this.” You take a deep breath as you try to maintain composure, and he sees your jaw clench, which was always your tell.

He watches you reach out a latex-gloved hand and close the girl’s eyes, very gently. Before he can think better of it, he says: “Don’t touch her.”

It comes out louder, harsher than he means it to, and he realizes it when you turn towards him, the expression in your eyes already shuttered and closed-off: “It won’t make a difference for the medical exam, Doctor Reid. The photos have been taken. Let her have one modicum of dignity.”

You peel off your gloves and walk away, in the direction of JJ and the crime scene techs, without sparing him another glance.

The uniformed officer to Derek’s right (Castillo, Spencer thinks, he was in the squad room yesterday) fixes him with a disapproving look. “Back off her, man.”

The officer sets off to follow you, his broad 6’4 frame brushing too close to Spencer as he passes by, causing him to step back involuntarily.

* * *

You stand facing the open door on the driver’s side of your truck, hands clutching the frame, trying not to be sick.

It’s too much. A fourth girl killed – on an accelerating timeline – Spencer being here, his presence throwing you off. No leads. No goddamn leads.

Castillo comes up behind you, announcing himself in his gruff voice: “Detective? You OK?”

You turn halfway, pulling yourself together with a deep intake of breath: “I’m fine.” Then, because he looks dubious, you muster a smile: “Thanks, Johnny.”

John Castillo has seen you on the very worst day of your life, got a real close look at it, so he knows to trust you when you say you’re fine.

He nods at you once, squinting against the sun. “We’ll get this bastard, honey. You’ll find him.”

* * *

That night, Spencer is bent over a large table in the APD’s sixth floor bullpen working on the geographical profile when Detective Nguyen walks in with fresh coffee. Beside him, Rossi is rifling through stacks of old case files the Texas Rangers sent over.

“How’s it going?” The tall man asks, as Spencer gratefully accepts a steaming paper cup.

He sighs in response, pointing at the grid-lined paper: “This guy is literally all over the map. The data points of where the victims disappeared, went to school, worked, lived, and where they were found cover almost all of the city. Almost three hundred square miles, which doesn’t really narrow things down.”

Two uniformed officers come up to Nguyen to discuss shift change logistics, and after a few swiftly exchanged words they bid the detective goodnight, nodding their heads at Rossi as well. Spencer receives only a glare before they head off.

Rossi chuckles beside him. “Okay kid, I have to ask, what’d you do to these guys? Since we’ve been here, they’ve mistrusted you on sight.”

Nguyen clears his throat, seemingly embarrassed. “Don’t mind them. It’s not you.” He busies his hands straightening a few file folders. “They got it in their heads there’s some tension between you and Valdez because you used to know each other. I told them it’s nothing.”

Spencer feels himself coloring slightly. “We knew each other at the Academy, but we haven’t spoken for years. Either way it wouldn’t impact the investigation in any sense.”

The taller man sighs. “I know, that’s exactly what Valdez said. Just ignore them and try not to take it personally. They’re just real protective of her since Adrian got killed.”

A bitter sense of foreboding suddenly fills Spencer’s throat. “Adrian?”

If Nguyen seems surprised by his ignorance, he hides it quickly. “Valdez? Her husband. He was a uniformed officer on the force here. He got shot while responding to a domestic disturbance three years ago.”

Authors note: soooo pt 1 of this didn’t really get any response but I have the rest of the story loosely plotted out and i’m having fun writing it so i will probably finish it anyway, just not sure on what timeline. anyway, comments/reblogs always appreciated <3

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine

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