Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.
Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.
A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.
You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!
Despite knowing about your brotherâs impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that youâd promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but youâd yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was âvery real actually, mom, heâs coming to the wedding actually.â
It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you werenât on a case, it wasnât long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.
âOkay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,â Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.
âItâs this wedding I have to go to,â you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.
âWant me to help you get out of it?â Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.
âIâm not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since itâs his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.â
âOkay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.â
You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.
âPromise you wonât tell?â
âOh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,â she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.
âLast year, I was so, I donât know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so itâs hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?â Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.
âI told her I was seeing this guy. Heâs amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and heâs smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.â
âOh sweetheart,â was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.
âI know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I donât want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.â
âAnd this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?â she asked.
âMy invitation read âTo our darling sister and her mystery man,ââ you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. Youâd acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.
âI think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,â Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if sheâd been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didnât trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.
âXâ
Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.
At first, youâd laughed at the suggestion sheâd made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.
âSpencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,â you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.
âGood morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason weâre in a closet right now?â he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.
âYes,â you gumped, afraid to say anymore.
âAre you going to tell me what the reason is?â
âI need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,â you finally blurted out.
âYou need me to⊠Just for a weekend?â He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.
âMy brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.â
âOh. So, you broke up with him and donât want to tell your mom?â
âNo, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! Iâll pay for everything, and Iâll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!â You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didnât have to in the end.
âOh, sure, Iâll go. When did you say it was?â Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.
âThis weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.â You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.
âThis weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?â He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.
âHonestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.â
âWow, we just started fake dating and youâre already trying to bump me off.â His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.
âStop saying weâre dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didnât want weird rumors circulating in the office,â you pouted.
âThen you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think weâre doing something we shouldnât be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.â
With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.
âJust be ready, okay. Iâll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.â
âXâ
The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of âairport dadâ as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.
âSo whatâs our cover story?â He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.
âWhat cover story?â you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.
âWhere did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?â He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. âI need to prepare so we donât get caught out, right?â
âOh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and weâve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didnât give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didnât find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they donât know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things weâve done together.â He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.
âWhat was our first date?â He asked.
âCoffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, itâs called Flondon. Iâm a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.â
âWhat else have we done together?â
âThere was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.â
âWow, so Iâm a really great boyfriend then.â He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didnât get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.
You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.
âY/N, just one last thing before we go in,â he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. âAre we⊠the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and Iâm sure your family will be suspicious if we donât share a room soâŠâ
He didnât have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.
âShit, youâre right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot⊠Itâs fine, right? Weâve roomed together on cases, havenât we?â You asked, looking up at him.
âNo, we havenât. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but weâŠwe havenât shared before.â He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.
âSpencer, itâs okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if youâre not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.â
âNo, no itâs totally fine. I just wanted to make sure youâre comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess Iâm not the best roommate in the world.â He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.
You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didnât like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where youâd thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.
But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, heâd started it.
âSorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? Weâre going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.â He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.
The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.
âHi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.â
âSister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.â She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.
âOh god, sheâs coming now, what do we do?â
âY/N, calm down, itâs okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.â
âYouâre right. Okay, right. Okay.â You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.
âOne of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, sheâs coming over, Spencer act natural,â
âSaying act naturally is actually counter-active-â but he didnât have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencerâs arms as you hugged the woman warmly.
âItâs so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girlâŠâ she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.
âI think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/Nâs boyfriend,â she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.
âYeah, nice to meet you, Iâm Spencer.â You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadnât stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.
âSpencer? Spencer Reid?â You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. âIâve heard so much about you. Itâs so wonderful to finally meet you.â
Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, youâd inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didnât avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.
âMom, how did you knowâŠâ
âYou tell me about your coworkers all the time, Iâm just surprised I didnât work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, heâll tell you that I did.â You rolled your eyes at your motherâs words, doing your best to avoid Spencerâs gaze. Heâd fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.
âItâs so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and itâs so nice to see that youâre actually real. Youâre here!â She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that youâd have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didnât have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,
âSorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so weâll catch up then, sweetheart.â She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.
âXâ
The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. Youâd awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that youâd be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you werenât careful.
Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that heâd need a shower. Youâd unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadnât done before.
What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?
So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.
âHey, Y/N, Iâm really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,â he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.
Youâd assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.
âOh shit, sorry, Iâll just turn around, I guess,â you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.
âNo, no, itâs my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. Itâs okay.â You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.
You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.
âY/N, itâs 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.â He whispered as if he werenât too bothered if you didnât want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.
âThanks for waking me, Spence,â You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours youâd apparently been dead to the world, heâd managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.
He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. âSorry, you looked so tired I didnât want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.â
âItâs okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. Iâm gonna goâŠâ you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.
An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.
âHere, grab my arm.â He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.
âOh yeah that makes sense,â you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.
âItâll also stop you from picking your nails,â he joked.
âI donât pick my nails!â
âYou so do. You do it when youâre nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,â he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.
âYouâre one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase âgo out,â in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.â
âWait, when did that happen? I donât remember any woman trying to ask me out.â
âThen youâre even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.â Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.
âY/N! Over here,â you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.
âItâs been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,â he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.
âNow who is this kid sister youâre talking about because last I checked youâre only 18 months older than me.â
â18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,â he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. âHoly shit, youâre real.â
âHey! Be nice. This is Spencer, heâs my⊠heâs my boyfriend, we work together.â You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.
âSpencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didnât think youâd be so gangly⊠Itâs my wedding, and Iâve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.â
âNo, you donât. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.â You laughed at the man.
âAnd whose fault is that?â
âOh my god, itâs been almost 20 years, I already apologized!â
âApologised for what?â Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.
âThis little rodent,â your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, âbroke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.â
âIt was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!â
âAnd now, youâre a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.â He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.
âSo, Spencer, youâre an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.â
âI am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, theyâre PhDâs not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.â He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.
âWow,â was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with âAll those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?â You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.
âAnyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.â You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.
âThat went well, I think?â you whispered to him, conspiratorially.
âYour family is nice,â he replied. âDoes he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?â
âIf youâre referring to my brother, I think heâs probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, heâs always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.â
âI think itâs nice. They care about you a lot,â his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what youâd been told of Spencerâs own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.
âThank you, Spencer. For being here,â you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didnât let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.
âXâ
âSpencer, you were amazing!â You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.
âThose magic tricks? The little babies couldnât get enough of you,â you spun around, wrapping your arms around the manâs neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.
âY/N, are you drunk?â he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.
âNo! Iâm just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-â He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.
You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didnât come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before youâd hit the ground.
âSorry. I⊠Shit, maybe I am drunk,â you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldnât be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.
âYou should use the bathroom first,â he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. âYou should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?â
You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didnât leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.
âYeah, I should⊠I should go wash up.â You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.
âSpencer, that means you need to move,â you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.
âSorry. Iâll just⊠Iâll just be over there,â he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.
âSpence, whatâs wrong?â
âWe didnât speak any further about the sleeping arrangementsâŠâ he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. âY/N, we have to share the bed.â
âOh.â You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.
âI can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. Itâs probably no worse than some of the motel beds weâve stayed on before,â he offered, but you instantly shook your head.
âNo, I dragged you out here, Iâm not making you sleep on the floor as well,â you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed youâd slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.
âWhat are you doing?â Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.
âIâm getting ready for bed. Itâs late.â You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that heâd spot the blush on your face. âYou should too,â you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.
âOh.â It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.
âCome on, Spence, Iâm tired, Iâm sure youâre tired. Weâre just sharing a bed, itâs not like you have to marry me after this.â You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didnât catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.
âWhat?â he smiled, noticing your stare.
âNothing. Good night, Spence,â you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.
âGood night, Y/N.â He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.
âXâ
You werenât sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasnât your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.
To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.
âSpencer⊠Spencer,â you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.
âY/N, is it time for the wedding?â He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position youâd probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.
âNo, no, itâs justâŠâ You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.
âShit, IâmâŠ.Sorry, I donât know what happened, I mustâve grabbed you when we were sleeping,â he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.
âItâs okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows werenât that comfortableâŠâ you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, heâd see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.
âShit sorry,â he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.
âNo, itâs okay, I didnât move quick enough.â You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.
His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.
âI have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about⊠two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?â
âYou first,â he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. âYou should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?â You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.
âXâ
The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You werenât walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.
Youâd woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people youâd slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That heâd pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.
So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.
You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.
You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.
You kept your distance until you realized youâd not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.
âI know that look,â your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.
âWhat look?â you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.
âYouâre in love with him,â he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.
âHeâs my boyfriend,â you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.
âNo, he isnât. Or at least he wasnât before this weekend,â your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.
âOh, donât act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but Iâll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.â You sighed and leaned back against the table.
âHowâd you figure it out?â
âYou were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesnât take two PhDâs to figure that out.â
âThree.â
âThree what?â
âThree PhDs. He has three of them.â You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.
âHeâs just my coworker. I didnât want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but nowâŠâ You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.
âYou should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.â
âHow are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother Iâm still single?â
âY/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? Thatâs more logic than confidence, and thatâs supposed to be your strong suit.â
You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, heâd finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.
âFuck, what do I do, Iâm not good with⊠any of this.â You turned back to your brother, but heâd left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.
âLadies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.â You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.
You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.
âY/N, may I have this dance?â He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.
âI didnât think you danced, Dr. Reid,â you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.
âI donât really, but it seemed wrong not to,â he smiled. âIâm at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.â You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.
You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.
âI know Iâve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.â You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.
âYou donât have to thank me, Y/N.â He insisted, and you looked up at him again. âActually⊠I didnât exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.â
Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.
âIâve been⊠I thought that maybeâŠâ he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.
âYou promised me those coffees right?â He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.
âYeah, Spence, itâs okay, Iâll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.â You couldnât help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.
âNo, I mean⊠Y/N I donât want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because itâs serious and itâs going to work out between us. I even⊠God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,â he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.
âSpencer,â you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but heâd started speaking and he wasnât going to be stopped so easily.
âAnd if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and Iâll never mention it again. Because I know Iâm not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I donât really get, but-â
âSpencer,â you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.
âSpencer, kiss me.â And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you donât care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until youâre just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.
âSpencer,â you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.
âYes?â
âSpencer, take me to bed.â You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.
But this time, you donât hesitate, donât pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.
âMay I?â He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that heâs about to absolutely build upon.
âYouâre beautiful.â He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.
He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.
âIs this⊠are you sure?â You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.
âSpencer, I love you,â you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.
He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.
âYouâre so perfect, Y/N, youâre doing so good for me,â he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.
âSpencer, I love you,â you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.
âI love you, too,â he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.
Summary: Youâre always absentmindedly touching Spencer, and while he knows it doesnât mean anything to you, it means everything to him.
Alternatively: Five times you touch Spencer (maybe?) unintentionally, and the one time you (definitely) do it on purpose.
Pairings: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader
Word Count: 2k
A/N: This is actually inspired by an anon request I got literally two years ago. Anon, if you happen to still be here, thank you!!
Spencer was pretty sure you were going to be the death of him.
Not intentionally, of course, but it would probably still happen all the same.
You werenât doing it on purposeâhell, he wasnât even sure if you knew you were doing itâand yet it was all he could think about. It consumed his thoughts.
Your hands.
On him.
Case in point: you were currently sitting next to him on the jet, playing mindlessly with the cuff of his shirt sleeve. You folded it up and then down, again and again. He found it somehow soothing, though he didnât know if he could blame that on the steady rhythm of it or just the feel of your skin brushing against his.
As usual, he was fairly certain you didnât even realize you were doing it. Your attention was on Hotch as he doled out the teamâs assignments upon landing. Spencer tried his best to focus, but he was finding it difficult.
âReid?â Hotch asked, an all too knowing look in his eyes.
Spencer blinked. âWhat? Oh, yes, yeah. Geoprofile, got it.â He nodded emphatically, cursing the heat that he could feel rush to his cheeks.
summary: reader opens up a new coffee shop in town, getting daily visits by a handsome customer. until he doesn't show up one day, wondering if he'll ever come back
wc: 2.2k
warnings: fem!reader, use of she/her pronouns, just fluff n stuff
a/n: this is the first time ive written something in months and first time for this character as well, but it was honestly so refreshing. i would love to receive some feedback from people if you enjoyed it!
Standing in front of her very own coffee shop, hands on her hips while sheâs looking up at the sign of the shop. âButterbean Coffee Shop/Biscuit Blissâ She couldnât be more proud of herself, finally being able to make her dream of opening her own shop where she can sell freshly brewed coffee and homemade pastries come true. The inside was filled with different kinds of plants, plenty of books on the wall for people to read with a cup of coffee in their hand, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and other cute decorations on the tables. It looks just like she imagined it to be. Now all thatâs left to do is open the shop and wait for the customers to start coming in.
It took a while before the very first customer came inside, as most people preferred their overpriced Starbucks over a new coffeeshop theyâve never even seen before. But just then, a man walked passed the window. His nose was deep in a book he was holding, he sure has good taste. Looking up from his book, his gaze fell on the coffee shop causing him to halt in his tracks. Slowly he closed the book he was holding, reading the menu that was hung up behind the counter. He turned around and walked inside, giving the woman behind the counter an awkward smile.
âGood morning! What can I get for you today?â, she said enthusiastically unable to hide her excitement.
It stayed silent for a couple seconds, the man just staring at her with his mouth slightly hanging open as if he was trying to say something but the words got lost somewhere on the way out. She blinked a few times, confused as to why the man wasnât saying anything. But after shaking his head and clearing his throat he just ordered a simple black coffee to go. And while she prepared him his order, he looked around the room to take in the new place he found. His eyes land on the pastry display, specifically on a very tasty looking cupcake.
âCan I get that chocolate cupcake as well? It looks really good.â, he pointed to the glass display.
âOf course! Theyâre freshly baked and your officially the first person to try them.â, she says while handing him his coffee and cupcake in a little brown bag. âHave a nice day, sir!â
And with that he left, looking back at her when he walked past the window once more. You wondered if heâll ever come back, secretly hoping he would. There was just something about him that wanted to get to know him better. Or maybe thatâs just what it feels like with all first customers.
But sure enough, the handsome man did return the next morning. He ordered the exact same thing as last time, a coffee and a chocolate cupcake to go.
âI assume you enjoyed the cupcake yesterday?â
âOh yes, honestly one of the best cupcakes Iâve ever had.â
It warmed her heart to hear him say those words. Did he really find her cupcakes that good? She handed him his order, his fingers accidentally touching hers when he was about to take it. He apologized and showed that cute awkward smile again, before turning around and leaving the shop.
âSee you tomorrow!â, he yelled as he walked away past the large window.
It excited her to know heâll be coming back. Just like he said he came back the next morning, and the next one, and the morning after that, and the one after that. On some days he even waited outside the shop before she had even opened yet, patiently standing there until she would let him in. As days went by, she started to get to know him better. His name was Spencer Reid according to the tag hanging from his bag, he was always wearing mismatched socks and he would show up every single day with a different book in his hand. On colder days he would even wear a purple scarf around his neck, which she thought suited him really well. Apparently he comes here every morning because the coffee at his work is terrible, and he has always had a soft spot for chocolate cupcakes. Giving him some sort of comfort.
She got so used to seeing him every day that if felt weird when one morning he didnât show up. Maybe he was just running late for work and didnât have time to stop for coffee. Or perhaps heâs just not in the mood for coffee today. Or what if heâs sick? Did something happen to him? Endless possibilities popped up in her head as to why he wasnât here, and it honestly hurt that he wasnât. She couldnât explain why but every time she saw him, a warm feeling filled her up inside even on the cold winter days. So when he doesnât show up the next day, it breaks her heart. Days went by and still no sign of Spencer, it worried her to not know what happened to him but she just accepted it and went on with her life.
As she was getting ready to close one night, a knock on the window made her turn around and drop the broom in her hand. There he was, standing outside with an pleading look on his face. Basically begging her to let him in. Normally, she wouldnât do this for anyone considering itâs already past closing time and she was about to leave. But Spencer wasnât just anyone. So she walked to the door and turned the key, letting him come in.
âIâm so terribly sorry for coming in so late, I know youâre already closed but I was wondering if maybe I could still get a coffee? If itâs too much I can just go and-â
âJust had a tough week at work, thatâs why I couldnât come in sooner. I just got off the plane and hoped you were still open so I could get one more feel good coffee from my favourite place.â, he said after taking a sip of his hot coffee. His head was hanging low and his eyes had dark circles under them from exhaustion, his week really must have taken a huge toll on him.
âDo you wanna talk about it?â
âOh no, please, Iâm fine. Youâve already done enough for me by letting me in after closing hours, I canât make you listen to my worries as well.â
âItâs really not a big deal, Spencer. I was genuinely worried about you, and to be honest you donât look fine to me.â, she said as she placed her hand on top of his to express her sincerity. He looked up at her, staring at her beautiful eyes. God, she always looked so pretty. Taking a deep breath, he explained the things that happened to him at work, getting a couple gasps from her as he talked about how gruesome it can get sometimes.
The two continue talking until the sun completely sets, the big city being lit by just a couple street lights. They finally had the chance to get the know each other better, and what better way to chat than with a warm cup of coffee in your hand and a piece of cake in the other. They talked and laughed, shared life stories and even showed pictures of their pets. Time flew by and before they knew it, more than an hour has already past. She looked at the clock hanging on the wall above the counter, realizing how late it actually is. Spencer noticed it too, but something in him didnât wanna leave just yet. His full attention was on her, admiring her side profile in silence. He would love to stay here with her forever, but even he knew that wasnât possible. He finally build up the courage to speak up about the thing that has been on his mind all night.
âIs there anything I can do to repay you for doing this?â
âNo, itâs alright. I had a nice evening so itâs on the house.â. She shot him one of her heart warming smiles, tinging something inside him.
âWell, I was thinking.. Maybe I could take you out sometime to talk some more. You know, like a date..?â
She stared at him like a dear in headlights, unsure if she heard him correctly. Was he actually asking her out on a date? The painfully long silence made him want to sink through the floor, thinking she was going to reject him and that the idea disgusted her. But she got up from her chair and flung her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug.
âWould it be alright if I walk you home? Itâs not really safe out here for a woman to walk alone in the dark.â, he asked to break the awkward silence. She was glad he asked her that, not yet wanting to say goodbye to him. They cleaned up the shop together and went on their way to her house, which was just a 15 minute walk from the coffee shop. The walk was still a bit awkward from their interruption earlier, but it soon went back to normal chatter between the two of them. They shared more laughter, hands occasionally brushing against each other as they were walking so closely together. Something about being around the other made them relax, it was as if theyâve known each other for years.
When they arrived in front of her house, the conversation fell flat. Neither of them saying anything to postpone having to say goodbye. Spencer scratched the back of his neck, trying to think of something to tell her while she looked through her back to find her keys.
âSo⊠Guess Iâll see you tomorrow morning?â, her voice had a hint of sadness in it. She looked at him as she stood there in the door opening, the faint street light appearing as little sparkles inside her eyes.
Spencer didnât want to wait till the morning to see her again, he had to hold her just one more time tonight. He stopped in his tracks, turning around and running back towards her house. Knocking on the door frantically, he was greeted with a confused y/n staring at him as she openend the door.
Without warning, Spencer pulled her closer, hand slipping around her waist. Her shoulders tensed as he placed his other hand on her cheek, staring right into her eyes. And in a heartbeat, he closed the space between them by capturing her lips with his, stealing her breath away. Slowly her shoulders relaxed, melting into the kiss. Her hands moved to his vest, pulling him even closer to her. Firework went off inside them, feeling ecstatic to finally express their affection. The kiss lasted for a couple more seconds until they pulled away, admiration spread all over their face.
Before Spencer had the chance to say or do something else, she pulled him inside with her. Closing the door behind them.
Summary: Two batches of brownies were made: one with laced with "maryjane," and one without. Unfortunately, the wrong ones end up in the hands (and mouths) of the BAU. Requested by my lovely mutual @swaggysagiewagie <3
I donât normally make it a habit of putting illegal substances in my baked goods. I actually donât make it a habit of using illegal substances at all, given the FBIâs random drug screenings. But when my college roommate called me in a panic at 11 pm because she had already burnt 3 batches of her attempted âspecialâ brownies, I knew I had no choice but to help her. It was her boyfriendâs birthday tomorrow and he specifically requested the dessert, so we spent the entire night baking our asses off. While I was busy baking the weed brownies, I thought it might be nice to bake some regular ones to take to work. I was extremely careful not to mix them up. I even marked the pan without the weed brownies with a red sharpie so that I wouldnât mix them up in the morning. But after such a late night, I was in such a hurry the next morning that I hadnât even noticed that the only pan left in the kitchen was a batch of pot brownies. And of course, I grabbed the pan without a second thought, and dropped them off in the break room, unaware of what was to come of my little mix up.
As the team trickled in and out of the break room to get their morning coffees, they each helped themselves to a brownie under the impression that it was just another one of my delicious baked treats. It wasnât until Penelope called us all in to the meeting room for a debrief that I noticed something was off.
âLETS GET STARTED BECAUSE WE HAVE A LOT TO COVER PEOPLEâ Penelope said in a much louder voice and with a much quicker pace than usual.
âOurfirstvictimisa32yearoldpoliceofficerandwasfoundstrangledinhercar,aaaaaandoursecondvictimwas40yearsoldandalsoapoliceofficerandOH MY GOD WEâRE NEXTâ she said.
That was odd, even for Penelope.
Just then, I could hear Spencer in the seat next to me trying to stifle his giggles.
âweâre gonna die,â he said, as if that was the funniest thing in the world. âIâve died before it is not fun,â he said between laughs.
Oh no....
It hit me just then that Penelope and Spencer's behavior was no accident, this was a result of my delicious handiwork. I can't believe I actually mixed them up.
Of course I mixed them up.
I was up so late and as luck would have it, I brought the goddamn weed brownies into Quantico.
"Calm down mama, nobody's dying alright," Morgan said. I could tell he had some brownies too because he was talking incredibly slow and he was leaned all the way back in his chair.
"Morgan's right everybody just be cooooool." I'm guessing Prentiss also had some, but she was so relaxed that it seemed like this wasn't the first time she and Morgan have been high.
"JJ you alright?" Morgan asked. She had her head down on the desk and seemed like she was sound asleep.
"OHMYGOD SHE'S DEAD TOO" Garcia yelled.
"Shhhhh it's okay babygirl," Morgan cooed as he wrapped Garcia in an embrace.
"Oh god," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose in both embarrassment and defeat.
"What's going on?" Hotch asked, standing in the doorway and staring in confusion.
"Nothing boss man just hanging around" said Emily.
I knew I had to come clean to Hotch about the brownies. "Sir, I can explain" I said, feeling more embarrassed than ever. "I helped a friend make some brownies that were laced with...a certain substance, and I decided to make a regular batch for the team, but in my haste this morning I must've mixed them up."
âYes! The brownies! You made them (Y/N)!?â Spencer asked bewildered, âthat must be why they were soooo gooood.â
I could feel his hand moving to touch the exposed skin under my skirt, and while I should have immediately swatted his hand away, I let him linger for just a moment.
âSpencer, youâre high, you all need to chill out before we can get back to workâ I said as I gently brushed his hand away.
âCan I give you a kiss?â he asked with a pout, completely ignoring what I had just said
âNo!I meanâŠ.yes. Maybe? But not right now!â
"No one is going to do any work until they are no longer high. I can brief them on the plane once they sober up. As for you, (Y/N), I'd like to speak with you in my office."
Oh no, this was it, I was most likely going to get fired.
"(Y/N), I'll make this brief. I realize this was most likely a mistake on your part. That said, you still drugged our team members with a substance that is illegal in several states. However, given that it's technically legal in ours, I am only going temporarily suspend you from work for the duration of the case."
"I wanted to apologize again sir, I never wanted to cause anyone harm or distract them from work."
"I know (Y/N), just be grateful I'm not reporting any of you or requiring you all to get drug tested."
I nodded profusely and walked out of Hotch's office before he could change his mind. As I rounded the corner, I bumped right into Spencer's chest. He couldn't help but giggle some more as we collided.
"Sorry Spence, not just about bumping into you but also the whole weed brownie thing."
"It's okay (Y/N)," he said as his giggles subsided,"I reeaaaalllyyyy liked those brownies."
Seeing Spencer in this state, I couldn't help but laugh too. "I'll make you some normal ones sometime, Spencie," I said, playfully punching him in the arm.
".....soooo can I still give you that kiss?" he said, gently brushing my arm. He slowly leaned in with his eyes closed, but I couldn't help but smile as I put my index finger to his lips.
"Hotch kinda 'grounded' me at the moment, but I'll let you give me as many kisses as you want when you get back," I said with a wink.
I may have risked losing my job in the process, but I'd bake weed brownies all over again if I knew that it would cause my work crush to finally make a move.
______________________________________
AN: Thank you for all the love on Bang My Line. It really motivated me to write more so hereâs my second criminal minds 1shot. Hope yâall enjoy <3
Summary: Spencerâs vet begrudgingly agrees to an emergency house call.
Request: Spencer finds a stray cat and instantly becomes attached. He ends up falling for Reader, his vet.
A/N: Beware the bubble-pocalypse. No cats were harmed in the making of this production. Â
Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content Warning: None
Word Count: 3.5k
MASTERLIST
Iâd met a lot of pet owners during my admittedly young career, but Iâd never met one as overbearing as Dr. Spencer Reid. Itâd only been a matter of months since heâd first gotten a pet. I knew that because he had been sure to tell me every detail about their life together.
Because of that, Iâd quickly learned that he wasnât joking when heâd said that he had an eidetic memory. He also hadnât been exaggerating when heâd warned me that he tended to overthink things. Within a month, I had received at least 30 phone calls⊠outside of office hours. Iâd like to pretend like he was just trying to find an excuse to talk to me, but those conversations never went further than the cat.
If it had been anyone else, I wouldâve blocked his number. But the incessant calls were alright, because Iâd also never met a pet owner so infuriatingly beautiful as Dr. Spencer Reid.
That was how it happened â with puppy dog eyes and a frustratingly adorable pout. That was how I found myself laying on my stomach on the ground of a strange manâs apartment, staring at a very angry cat.
The room was filled to the brim with tension of varying degree and kind. Because right beside me, close enough that I could almost hear his anxious heart pounding against the hardwood, was Spencer. His arm was pressed against mine like there hadnât been an expanse of space he could have occupied instead.
Iâd wanted to pretend like he wanted to be near me, but the truth was that he was so caught up in his frustrated friend that he barely even noticed when I turned to him. Eventually, though, he dropped his head between crossed arms in front of him and he sighed. Then, he turned to me with so much desperation that I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing.
âWhat?â he asked when he saw the words forming on my tongue.
âWell, I think you might be right, Dr. Reid,â I announced with a deathly seriousness, âThat cat is thoroughly upset with you.â
âI knew it,â he muttered like a curse. âI feel terrible, and I donât know how to fix it.â
âWhat did you do to the poor thing? Step on her tail?â
Iâd only been joking, but I watched as a horror fell over his face. Just a flash of dread before he cleared his throat and answered, âUh⊠Yeah. Yeah, thatâs what I did. I uh⊠stepped on her tail.â
A lie. Probably the first heâd ever told me. It didnât actually matter all that much â cats were resilient creatures â but his secrecy and shame piqued my interest. And it just wasnât fair to ask me not to tease him when heâd done so much to make me miserable.
âI canât help you if you arenât honest with me,â I scolded.
Just enough of a reprimand to guilt him. But it seemed Iâd misjudged just how embarrassing the truth was, because Spencer only answered me with a whine.
âYouâre going to laugh at me,â he mumbled.Â
âYes, I definitely am. Tell me anyway.â
I was torn between my own crushing guilt for having made him sad and the undying urge to make it worse. It was too tempting, too delicious to imagine him with his bottom lip stuck out, parting only to release a soft sigh of defeat.
Just like he did then.
âI was in a rush to leave for work one day and I didnât realize that Iâd grabbed the wrong soap for the dishwasher before I left,â he started cautiously.
But he hadnât been cautious enough. Iâd figured it out, and he was doomed.
With a feigned shock and a gasp, I whispered, âYouâve gotta be joking. Arenât you literally a genius?â
âIt was a simple mistake! I was running on like three hours of sleep!â he squeaked.
Like before, I found myself excited by the sound. Not because of any malicious intent, but because it was so nice to see him seem so⊠human. He wore his vulnerability like a crown of thorns, and I found myself trapped among the thickets.Â
âSo what happened?â I laughed.
Despite breaking my promise almost immediately, he continued, âWell, when I came home there were bubbles everywhere.â
âObviously.â
âShut up!â he laughed, which only made the volume rise.
We tried to remain serious, but it seemed impossible when his cheeks carried that crimson color and his tongue stumbled over itself.
âWhen I found her, she was under the bed! That was three days ago!â
Even when he whined âstop laughing!â it was clear he couldnât follow his own advice. His exhausted giggles continued until we both ran out of air.
With a stuttered breath, he turned back to find his companion staring at him with a terror and anger that knocked any leftover laughter from his chest.
âIâm worried about her,â he sighed.
âOkay, okay. Iâll stop,â I conceded. Not only because I recognized that my laughter might feel like salt in the wound at this point, but also because I felt my lungs drain the same way he had.
I looked at him and I saw the way hazel eyes glistened with tears over something as silly as a scaredy cat. I saw how he looked at the small bundle of fur cowering under his bed frame like he was the worst kind of monster in the world.
He wanted to help her so badly. Badly enough that he was willing to take a scolding, willing to be laughed at if it meant the one that he loved would be okay.
Spencer Reid could be annoying, but my god, could he love.
Even when he looked away, downtrodden and hurt by the sight in front of him, he turned to me with those puppy dog eyes that made my heart skip a beat.
âWe should definitely get off the floor, though,â I offered. Before the words had even finished leaving my mouth, I jumped up from the ground and hoped that he wouldnât hear the rhythm against the hardwood.Â
Innocent as ever, he chirped, âWhere are we going?â
I think he mightâve chastised me for abandoning her, but I had no intention of doing such a thing. Instead, I raised my hands in a shrug.
âWe should just act normal,â I said.
I got the sense that the suggestion was more confusing than Iâd intended. Heâd never been very normal, after all.
Thatâs why it was so easy to fall for him. That, and the way that he loved his cat enough to make me jealous.
âWhy?â he whispered, âIf we leave, sheâll be alone.â
âLord help your girlfriend, Dr. Reid,â I mumbled with my own sigh.
I was only half-joking. Most of me didnât want to hear his response to it because I was terrified that he might tell me the truth. That someone else â someone with less than four legs and hopefully less fur â had already taken what was left of his heart.
Truthfully, I hadnât even considered what I would do if heâd told me the opposite.
And then he did.
âI donât have a girlfriend,â he said matter-of-factly.
So innocent, blinking up at me from his prone position on the floor.
âRight,â was all I could think to say.
Of course you donât, I couldâve teased, but it felt disingenuous. It felt cruel and silly to imply something so blatantly wrong.
How could you not? would be more honest.
But of course, I was as much of a coward as the cat hidden under his bed. So I said nothing about the injustice that was Spencer Reid being single. Instead, I turned my attention back to the one in the room that he was more interested in at present (and probably forever).
âWell, think about it this way. If I was standing at your door staring at you, would you want to come out?â
Spencer tilted his head to the side the same as heâd done before, albeit less afraid than when Iâd suggested a change of scenery. His eyes wandered aside as he contemplated the scenario that Iâd offered him.
In that silence, I heard the nervous thumping of my heart. It pumped blood to my hands until theyâd started to shake. Still, I held them out to him without hesitation.
âCome on. We donât have to go far. We should probably stay in here, anyway. Sheâs probably too scared of the bubble-pocalypse out there.â
To my surprise, he took my hand with a similar swiftness. He even wore a smile as he stood, although he kept his eyes on the floor between us. That gentle sight was enough to calm my heart for the time being.
But when I took a seat on slightly askew sheets, my troublesome heart started going haywire again.
Spencer didnât seem to mind. He took a seat next to me and propped himself up with his hands on either side of his hips. His fingers were splayed over the comforter, resting mere inches from my own.
âWhat do we do now?â he asked, and I so badly wanted to pretend it was an invitation to touch him.
I knew it wasnât, though. I knew it wouldnât be fair when half of his heart was still trembling beneath us.
âWe just⊠wait,â I shrugged.
âAre you sure thatâll work?â
Turning to face him was guaranteed to lead to disaster, but I did it anyway. I faced the determination burning in his eyes and I let the fondness wash over the anxiety of a lovesick heart.
âTrust me. Iâm a real doctor, Dr. Reid,â I teased.
He smiled. Still sad, still beautiful.Â
After a moment of silence, he asked, âWhat should we do while we wait?â
âWhatever you want,â I offered.
Iâd hoped that the way his face lit up meant that he was distracted by the same juvenile fantasies.
I had been wrong, of course. As it turned out, Spencer had recently decided to take up the study of not just cats, but damn near every vertebrate he could find a book on. His questions were things that left me stumped, and on several occasions Iâd had to remind him that not only did I doubt he would ever be faced with things like a pregnant alpaca, but I also hoped that I never would.
After what felt like minutes but was probably hours, weâd inched our way far enough into the bed that it only felt natural to lay our heads on the pillows. It only felt right to turn towards each other with sleepy smiles and full hearts on display.
The next time he told a joke, I laughed. Iâd barely understood the punchline, but it didnât seem to matter. The real reason to laugh wasnât to convey my appreciation for the joke â it was for him. I wanted to tell him exactly how it felt to know him. I figured heâd heard a million times over how infuriating he could be.
Considering how often heâd started his sentences with, âIâm sorry,â I knew that he didnât need any harsh truths or reminders of how the others perceived him. But there were things he deserved to know. Things that I was certain he hadnât been told enough.
âYou want to know something, Dr. Reid?â I asked after a moment of calm.
âSpencer,â he corrected.
My eyes widened and my body tensed at the suggestion. That heavy feeling in my heart drifted higher until it turned my lips up at the ends.
âY-You can call me⊠Spencer,â he explained, softer than before.
I smiled even bigger as I asked again, âOkay. Do you want to know something, Spencer?â
Without pause, he shot back, âYes, I want to hear everything you have to say, always.â
It was in that moment that I realized he really had no idea just how wonderful he was. He was entirely unaware of the mystical quality of his voice, or how inviting his hand was as it sat innocently in the space between us.
âI was totally wrong about you,â I admitted.
My fingers twitched as I fought the urge to hold him. I tried not to reach out to him, but my body did it, anyway. Inch by inch, I got closer until our fingertips brushed against one another. He glanced down at the contact, but only for a second. Then he looked back up at me like there was something cosmic in my eyes. Iâd hoped he would figure it out, that it was his own reflection that he found.
But for as smart as he was, he seemed impervious to his own brilliance. So, I figured I would help him along.
âWhen I first met you, I was so scared youâd be one of those people who thinks Iâm just some idiot who doesnât know anything. And unlike most people like that, youâd actually be right about being smarter than me.â
âI think youâre really smart,â he interrupted. Before I could tell him the truth of how I felt, he explained his own outburst with an adorable shyness. âTh-Thatâs why I called you.â
Unluckily for him, Iâd caught the glimmer in his eyes no matter how quickly heâd tried to snuff it out. It was a poor attempt to hide the affection that, up until that point, I had assumed was redirected love from the feline beneath the bed.
âWas that the only reason you called me?â I said through a smile.
Again, Spencer stopped to ponder the question. There was no way of knowing what it was that he saw in my smile that had reassured him that the truth was welcome. But I was grateful for it, nonetheless.
Because he was smiling, too, when he whispered, â⊠No.âÂ
The giggle that escaped my lips was quickly followed by his own. It was something so innocent that I swore the air tasted sweeter on my tongue. I tried to contain my own joy but found myself unable to hide.
Spencer reminded me that I didnât have to.
âI⊠like spending time with you. I like how much you seem to care about everything and everyone.â
His words broke with a laugh as he had to turn his fawning into an apology.
âI know Iâve been a bit overbearingâŠâ he started, only for me to cut in with, âA bit?â
He laughed, but continued, âBut I do respect you.â
It was already too much for me to bear. His words got lighter and faster, the same way they got every time he talked about that beautiful, wonderful creature cowering under the bed. He looked at me the same way he looked at something he loved, and my heart started to pound faster, harder, until I felt like I was going to burst.
âFirst and foremost, you are a brilliant, kind, beautiful, warmââ he started, but he didnât get to finish his thought.
I kissed him before he could.
My hands that had been gravitating towards him shot out and pulled him closer to me with everything that I had. I was unsurprised to find that his lips were as soft as the rest of him. His hands brought a comforting warmth against my cheeks as he let himself hold me, too. I was grateful for the anchor that he provided. I tangled our legs together when we had to stop to breathe. I was too afraid to let go of him because I had never felt so loved.
It felt like an eternity of longing captured in a split second. His hands smoothed over my hair and ensured that there was nothing between us. He kissed me with enough excitement that he started to laugh.
I could have let the laughter stop us, but I didnât. We bumped noses together when our lips couldnât make it. Light fingertips tickled under his chin, but he didnât pull away. He chased my hand, instead, placing tiny pecks against whatever he could reach.
I had told him to do what he wouldâve done if things had been normal, and he chose to love.
It shouldnât have come as a surprise. I knew the nature of the man the first time that he walked into my office with a kitten that refused to leave his arms for the entire duration of the exam.
That clever little kitty knew how lucky she was. Perhaps that was why she became so jealous at the sounds of his affection being aimed at someone else. Maybe that was why she chose that moment to crawl out from beneath the bed.
The soft chiming of the bell around her neck joined our laughter like a harmony.
Spencer stopped what he was doing, but I couldnât blame him. I couldnât get upset with her, either, because the joy on his face was worth the loss of his lips.
âShadow!â he squeaked just in time for the cat to leap between the two of us.
She wasted no time reminding me who he belonged to first and foremost. The two of them bumped noses in a not so different way, and I had to laugh at how the simplest things could bring the greatest happiness.
âHey pretty baby, I missed you,â he whispered into her scruff between soft kisses.Â
I let the two of them have their moment. I closed my eyes and listened to the gentle purring of a happy cat like I could understand the sound.
When I opened them again, I found Spencer looking back at me with a fondness that was overwhelming.
âThank you so much for talking me off the ledge,â he said happier than I ever could have imagined him, âI was only a couple hours from deconstructing my whole bed.â
âHappy to help,â I said with a brief, nervous laughter.
The silence that followed was only made even more awkward by the fact that â despite Shadowâs best efforts â our legs were still tangled together. I was clumsy and quick to undo my own and start to stumble out of the bed.
âWell, my work is done here. I should⊠probably get going,â I announced.
But before I made it too far, I was stopped with a shout and the loud ringing of a bell as he used one hand to hold the cat and the other to grab my wrist.
âWait!â
I paused. I looked down at his hand wrapped around my wrist and I wondered if he could feel my pulse against his fingers.
âUmâŠâ he started at the same time his grip loosened. His hands began to shake, and I looked up at his face with a silent plea not to let go. Not to let me go.
Every few seconds, his eyes flickered up to me until he found the courage to speak. With his cheeks reaching the darkest shade of crimson yet, Spencer said, âI wanted to just⊠You asked me a question earlier, and I-I didnât answer.â
 It felt impossible to remember anything from before he kissed me, and so I asked, âWhat was the question?â
âYou asked me if⊠if you were standing at my door, would I want to leave?â
âY-Yeah?â I returned, urging him to tell me the answer before my heart burst through my ribcage and tackled him onto the bed.
âMy answer is no. I wouldnât,â he laughed. He looked up at me as he did so, locking onto my eyes and beaming with that adoration that Iâd convinced myself wasnât ever meant for me.
âI would⊠just invite you in.â
Slowly, a smile crept across burning cheeks. I bit down on my bottom lip to contain the juvenile giggles that were threatening to break the coolness Iâd wanted to convey. But after a few seconds, Spencer reminded me I didnât have to.
He giggled, and so did I.
âWell, maybe you should try that sometime,â I suggested.
âI think I will,â he answered.
We sealed the deal with a brief kiss that still broke with laughter and bumping noses.
âGoodnight, Spencer,â I said before turning my attention to the begrudging matchmaker still curled up where I so desperately wanted to be.
I gave the little feline a well-deserved kiss as I added, âGoodnight, Shadow.â
Spencer just watched me with an expression that was equal parts shocked and smitten. He was still reeling from the goodbye Iâd chosen, and I found no need to break the spell.
 But when that brilliant mind had caught up, just before Iâd left the room, I heard him call, âGoodnight, doctor.âAnd Shadow called to me, too, with a soft mew that I swore sounded like, âThank you.â
Request: A meet cute where the reader owns a flower shop and Spencer comes in to get flowers for his mom. He finds reasons to continue coming back until one of them gets the courage to ask the other one out. [Requested by @teddy-the-teddybear ]
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1.5k
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On the day that you met Spencer Reid, the trees were a swirling mix of red and orange and the October air was crisp and cool. You pulled your burnt orange cardigan tighter around yourself and placed a bundle of roses in a vase. You eyed them, adjusting the sunflowers that surrounded them.
A chime sounded at the front of the flower shop you worked at. You looked up at the noise, and a tall, lanky man walked in. His long strands of brown hair fell onto his face, despite his efforts to continue pushing them back.
âHello, welcome to Abstract Florals! Can I help you find anything today?â Your voice said, reciting your typical customer service spiel.
Spencerâs gaze went to yours as he approached, and you were taken aback by eyes that shone a beautiful swirl of brown and amber. His gaze met yours and held onto it slightly longer than what may be considered normal.
"H-Hi there," Spencer started, his voice wavering in nervousness at the sight of you.
You smiled softly, and waited a moment for him to continue.
"I'm looking for a bouquet for my mother. I haven't seen her in a while. Uhm, she loves the color purple, if that helps."
You grinned at him. He is beautiful, you thought to yourself.
"I can absolutely help you with that." You hurriedly grabbed a few vases of purple flowers from the shelf and brought them back to the desk.
"Let's see, we have violets, hydrangeas, and," you trailed off, staring at another set of beautiful purple flowers in front of you. Shoot, what are these called again?
Spencer sensed the look of confusion on your face and his lips tilted up in a small smile.
"Rhododendrons."
Your gaze shot up to his, your eyes wide in astonishment.
"Yes, rhododendrons," you spoke. "Thank you."
If any other man had walked into the flower shop and corrected you, you would be annoyed. But something told you that the slim man in front of you meant absolutely no harm.
You shook your head, embarrassed, and felt heat rise to your cheeks.
"I'll take them," he spoke, pulling out his wallet.
"Perfect. Let's see," you hummed. "That'll be ten dollars."
He slid you his credit card, and you were quick to notice the raised writing at the bottom. Spencer W Reid.
-----
After that day, you took notice of Spencer Reid around your shop much more. You couldn't figure out why he needed flowers nearly every week, but you weren't complaining. He brought you good business, anyway.
"Good morning, Y/N," Spencer spoke. His voice held a gentleness that you realized you could get used to hearing.
Spencer had used your name for the first time a few weeks ago. It was the second or third time he had come into the shop, and you were taken aback when you had heard your name come out of his mouth. You recalled Spencer's gaze traveling down when you acted surprised, and you felt your face grow hot at the realization that you were wearing your name tag.
"Hi Spencer," you said, looking up from the front desk.
Spencer was clad in gray slacks, a button down shirt, and a green sweater vest. You couldn't help but think that he looked absolutely adorable in the combination. Your chest fluttered at the realization.
"What are thinking of getting today?"
He stopped at the front counter, eyes scanning the wide array of flowers behind you. His thumb grazed the bottom of his chin in concentration, and your heart tugged at the sight.
"There are lots of good options," Spencer smiled softly and turned his attention to you. "What would you recommend?"
You turned, looking at the wide array of florals behind you. The wall of flowers was beautiful. The bright purples and reds and yellows were a stark contrast from the browning greenery outside.
"I'd say the chrysanthemums are looking particularly ravishing today."
You turned to him, a wide grin on your face. He returned the smile, and grabbed for his wallet.
"I'll take them."
-----
The next time Spencer went to the flower shop, he didn't see you right away. His eyes scanned the shop, and he turned corners around the displays in search of you. He attempted to be subtle about his frantic searching, but it was difficult for him to hold it in when the only reason he was here was to see you. He didn't really care about the flowers.
Rounding another corner, he finally spotted you crouched below the front desk, rummaging through the cabinets. Your hair was disheveled, and your brows were furrowed in concentration.
"Y/N?" Spencer called out.
You jumped, yelping as you bonked the top of your head against the desk.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you," Spencer offered, rushing closer to the counter.
"Oh, Spencer, hey," you croaked, your voice gravelly.
You had woken up to an unpleasant pounding in your head and pain in your throat. You felt terrible, but the flower shop was understaffed. You had to go in to work; it was a Saturday and you knew it would be busy, but the shop couldn't afford to miss out on the business.
Spencer's eyes widened as he took in the sound of your voice and your unkempt appearance. He felt something tug in his chest, and the urge to care for you was overwhelming.
"Are you alright? You sound," Spencer trailed off; for once he was at a loss for words.
"Like I smoke six packs a day? I know," you joked, smirking.
Spencer didn't reciprocate your joking tone.
"Why are you here? You should be resting."
You couldn't tell if the heat rising in your body was from a high temperature or the feeling of Spencer being so concerned with your wellbeing.
You let out a sigh, leaning your weight on the desk.
"I didn't really have a choice," you stopped, coughing into the crease of your arm. "We're so understaffed here, and it's one of our busy days."
Spencer's face was contorted into an expression of worry, frustration, and something else that you couldn't quite place.
"Let me help, then."
Your gaze jumped up to meet his, confusion dancing across your features like freckles.
"No, no, I couldn't ask you to do that."
"You're not asking, I'm offering. Insisting, actually." Spencer's gaze was hard, his eyes staring directly into yours. You felt like melting into a puddle on the floor.
"Okay," you started, stretching the word. "Thank you, Spencer."
He nodded as a chime sounded from the front of the store. Spencer slipped behind the counter next to you as a middle aged woman approached the counter.
You cleared your throat, preparing your voice in order to welcome her, but someone beat you to it.
"Hello, welcome in! What can we help you with?"
You looked up at Spencer, a smile grazing his lips as he stared expectantly at the woman. You turned your gaze downward, smiling to yourself.
-----
Spencer continued to help you that day, nearly for your entire shift. Whenever there was a job that required a lot of moving around, he would offer himself up to do it, insisting that you stay seated. Although you felt guilty that Spencer was doing your work for you, unpaid you might add, you were thankful to be able to sit due to the constant pounding in your head.
The workday was nearing its end, and Spencer approached you, carrying a bundle of roses.
"How are you feeling?" He prompted, setting the flowers on the countertop.
"A little better," you muttered, resting your head in your palm. "Thank you for everything you did today."
"Of course," Spencer mumbled, giving you a soft smile. He shifted, his brows creasing together in apprehension before he continued.
"It was, uhm, nice to see you for more than the few minutes it takes for me to buy something."
You giggled. "Yeah, it was. I like spending time with you."
Spencer's face grew pink at your words, a small smile directed towards the ground. His gaze met yours, and he opened and closed his mouth nervously.
"I, uhm," he started, his hands fidgeting. "Would you want to go to dinner sometime?"
You could have sworn you felt your heart skip a beat. Did Spencer Reid just ask me out?
Spencer took your moment of silence as something it wasn't and he continued speaking.
"I'm sorry, maybe that was overstepping. I, we, uhm, just never mind, I--"
"Spencer!" You interjected with as much force as you could, but the hoarseness of your voice resulted in it being more of a whisper.
But it caught Spencer's attention. His wide eyes met yours.
"I would love nothing more than to go to dinner with you."
You could see Spencer's form settle in relief, and he let out a shaky breath.
"Good, that's good," he said, letting out a chuckle.
"Just," you started, catching Spencer's attention, "maybe let's wait until I'm less contagious."
Spencer laughed, and you thought to yourself about what a beautiful sound it was.
"How about Friday?" He asked, his hands now relaxed in his pockets.
"Friday sounds perfect," you smiled. "It's a date."
-----
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CM Taglist: @cynbx @random000000 @lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests @miralgr @xoyouronlyamorrxo
Summary: Spencer gets frustrated as Reader proves him wrong about an unsub's profile.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff-ish
Content warnings: discussions of gender, sexy implications, Ernest Hemingway
Word count: 1.6K
Itâs when I flip the OPEN sign to CLOSED that I can finally breathe. Saturday Sale Days at the bookstore are usually easygoing, but most people took refuge at the windows thanks to the crime scene across the street. Another sex worker was murdered, according to the agents who were here earlier. Well, one of them looked like an agent; coated from head to toe in black and seriousness. The other, however, might as well have been a pretentious preppy middle schooler who thinks a doctorate â three doctorates (he made sure to correct me) â gives him the excuse to lack social graces.
Iâm not used to running into FBI agents regularly. However, Iâm fairly confident that questioning civilians is more about further insight and not running to the end with confirmation bias. Dr. Reid, on the other hand, had his confirmation set that he and his team were looking for a woman riddled with internalized misogyny who was killing sex workers and leaving quotes from Ernest Hemingway pieces.
So, is it wrong that I may or may not have said they might actually be looking for a male with possible gender nonconformity issues? According to the quotes written in lipstick and discussions revolving around Hemingwayâs relationship with gender, it was the first thing to pop into my head.
And it was Dr. Reidâs first instinct to take it personally, like any other gifted child whoâs never learned what itâs like to be wrong (possibly). His reaction mainly consisted of raising his voice and saying my assumption âwas not relevant to our caseâ and taking a collection of Hemingwayâs short stories without paying for it. I havenât found a suitable way to explain that to my boss yet.
Regardless of his reaction, I had no reason to expect to see him again. I got a card from Agent Prentiss after she questioned me behind the counter and havenât heard a word since. It didnât matter then because we were closed, and I had the day off tomorrow â
Knock, knock, knock. A simple three-raps on the glass. The night makes it difficult to see who it is, but Iâm more than familiar with the panic button under the register. So before I turn the lights out, I get closer to the door to find out who on the other side canât read.
And without thinking, I open the door, but don't let him in. âAgent Reid.â I canât help but push him just a bit.
âDr. Reid.â
âRight.â I faked a laugh (years of practice). âWell as you can see weâre closed for the night so ââ
His hand is out, holding the book. The Complete Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway. The paper cover is already pulled up at the corners and the spine is cracked. Nothing display worthy, thatâs for sure. âI took this.â
âAnd you had it for six hours. How did you decimate it so quickly?â
âI was using it as a source while we were trying to solve the case.â His hand was shaking, from nervousness or lack of strength to hold a paperback in one hand for longer than a minute, either could be possible. âI figured a way to make amends was to come back and purchase it.â
I looked down at the book and looked back up at him. Sincerity and boyish charm force me to hold the door open for him and let him in. When he comes in, his under eyes are darker, perhaps because he's a night owl, or because of his job. His hair is still fluffy like this morning but droopy.
He was prepared to call it a night before coming here. But thievery is apparently too heavy for this agentâs shoulders.
I walk to the register, booting up the fancy tablet. âSo did you? Solve the case, I mean?â
âWe did.â
I scan the barcode, luckily he didnât ruin that. âAnd? Did she explain the Hemingway quotes at least?â
Silence, only for a moment. I see his hands digging into his pockets. He pulls out a debit card and hands it over. âHe, actually.â
âWhat?â
âHe didnât explain the Hemingway quotes but said he targeted sex workers because they were âfreer than he ever would be.ââ
Silence swallowed the room immediately upon saying that but of a different kind. The kind that was ripe for me to brag and possibly even do a little dance. But Iâm patient, and I donât like interrupting people. I tap the screen slowly so the good doctor can gather the words. I even took another glance and his eyes were already locked on me. It wouldâve made me jump if he didnât follow it with âYou were right.â
There it is. âHmm,â I say as I keep the arrogance down to a minimum as I contemplate my next words. I take his receipt and scribble before bagging the book. âSo do I get a one-way ticket into the bureau, or do I take your place or ââ
âThank you for your help." He says slowly as if he were being ordered to apologize. Like he wrote these words in a document before coming here. âYour observation sent us in the right direction.â His hand is out, waiting.
I also have a talent for dragging things out. When I shut the techy stuff down again, I go back around and hand them to him, so I can get closer. Read his face. When he reaches out and just touches the paper, I jerk the bag back. âThatâs not what you want to say.â I let the bag dangle off two of my fingers, shamelessly drinking in the moment. âCome on, itâs gotta be killing you.â
He rolls his eyes. Briefly, but enough for me to notice. âWhat could be killing me?â
âThat you, an FBI agent, with two PhDs ââ
âThree PhDs.â
This is so fun. âThree PhDs was outsmarted by a girl who works in a bookstore. Merely a bachelor's on my resume.â
âThat is not the case.â He says.
âIt seems relevant to the case now.â That intended to burn, and it did. Scorched actually. I could feel it from here, so I walked to the back to find the lights, expecting him to follow me.
He did. The creaking of the old wood floors echoed as we walked, there was no rhythm or synced steps, just two different walking patterns, one at ease and the other eager. âJust tell me how you figured it out.â He says. âHemingway has been praised for his writing style and the way he wrote certain female characters but his macho personality indicated he enjoyed nothing feminine.â
A chuckle might have been appropriate, but I replied with a stark laugh. A bold âHa!â As I opened the lightroom door. âBecause macho men are known for being the happiest people on Earth, according to history.â With a click, the lights flickered steadily before turning off. I had my phone flashlight ready, though. âHonestly, Dr. Reid, it might be worthwhile to take a break from reading and watch a documentary on the man. It adds up quickly, even someone like you would get it.â I let the flashlight guide me back to the front, avoiding collateral damage from bookshelf corners.
Until Dr. Reid stepped in front of me, causing my head to collide with his chest. Somehow, I didnât drop my phone and instinctively reached for my nose. âSomeone like me?â
âOw, first of all. But yes.â
âWhat is that supposed to mean?â
I rub my nose in the dark. âThat even a predictable bookish boy like you can eventually come to grips with the fact that he doesnât know everything.â
âAnd you do?â He asked.
âI never said that,â I admitted.
He looked at me skeptically. Even in the dark, I could feel my arrogance might have gotten the best of me here. I tried looking away, to another dark space.Â
He, however, did not. âWhat else did you say? Predictable?â
âYou mean you donât remember?â
He sighs, and air from his nose brushes above my lip.
Then so does his hand in my hair.
His lips, though, were quite the opposite. As if all his frustrations couldnât take it anymore and needed to be let out with a teeth-smashing, saliva-coated spectacle (that no one could see. Not even us.) All I felt was wandering hands and the wall hitting the back of my head before he pulled away. His hands are still on my waist, and he breathes sharply in and out. âWas that predictable?â I heard him swallow.
I contemplated my response for a short while, wondering which one, a yes or a no, would get him to do it again. So instead, I just grabbed where I assumed his head would be and jerked him down to meet my lips again. It worked. His hands wrapped tight as if he glued himself to my skin. âWill you get reprimanded by your team for being somewhere you arenât?â I ask between breaths and lip separation.
âMaybe. Iâm sure youâd enjoy that.â
âI wonât admit anything,â I said. Whether it was to see Dr. Reidâs night turn out worse, or to keep a secret from his boss about a makeout session in a bookstore, Iâm not sure. But his body was thin, layered with clothes. Warm.
âWhat will you admit to?â He whispers, moving our bodies, begging for more kisses. Or just more.
âDinner?â
âFor?â
âEducation purposes, Dr. Reid.â My hands canât help but explore. âSeems like weâve got a lot to learn.â
summary: a small act of kindness leads to a rather peculiar confession
A/N: Okaay, some people showed interest in a sequel to this and I thought I'd do it, I hope you like it enough. Oh and we are still with baby Spencer, later I will write about the second and third seasons (and as I progress in the series, lol)
taglist: @the-ginger-draws @skievers @c-m-stuff
The days passed, the cases continued, and the level of trust in the friendship between you and Reid only grew. Working at The Behavioral Analysis Unit was complicated and exhausting in many ways, which sometimes made you wonder how he managed to put up with all that, because, although you werenât an old woman, you did have two years more experience compared to him. It's also not like it was your fault that he was a genius and he went to work for the FBI at an extraordinary age. So every time something happened, you were there for him and he was there for you. The whole team really cared about the two of you (and JJ, the third youngest) while still trusting in your abilities to face challenges. And just like in a family, everyone could also notice the existing tension between you and the doctor, because although, at least on your part, the feelings had been there for a long time, they had become more obvious to the rest since of the trip to Miami.
"Good morning" you had greeted part of the team that day, a few weeks after the trip, more energetic than the others would have expected. Neither Hotch nor Gideon were around, for obvious reasons, so it was only when you passed Reid's desk that you stopped, running your hand affectionately through his hair âHey, Doc.â
"Hello," he responded immediately. Spencer didn't like it when his hair got messy, but he could take it if it was you, just as he could take your constant hugs or the drawings you sometimes made on his hand when you were bored during meetings. Of everything that happened between you, little managed to bother him, almost as if the interactions he avoided with others were something natural with you around.
Although he had stopped wearing his scarf daily, he still wore it at least once a week as a reminder of how special it was to him, and fortunately that day was the chosen one.
âDo we have a case? Or do I just bury my nose in these reports?â you muttered to the others, but they denied "What of that do you say no to?"
"Today they will be documents" JJ spoke kindly.
"Why do I have so many?"
âBecause I passed you some of mine,â Morgan sneered and you gasped, completely offended. You whispered something accusatory in his direction that made Spencer laugh from the next desk, and then he reached over to take just under half the folders.
"I will help you"
"Oh no, no, Reid. It's okay,â you said, your voice softening noticeably, as you placed your hands over his to try to stop him.
"It's nothing, I'll finish them in a jiffy"
"Why don't you ever offer to help me, huh?"
âYou manage pretty well on your own,â Spencer teased at your friend, now making you laugh. You still had your hands on his under the excuse of collecting your reports and, perhaps unconsciously, both of you postponed the moment for another few seconds, looking into your eyes with a small smile until he finally managed to keep the material that he had stolen from your desk.
"Thank you," you said, so softly that only he could hear you.
Looking at your coworker had already become something of an obsession. You liked his gestures, how he looked away when he spoke, his nervous ramblings, and the straight hair that he apparently was letting grow, but what you liked the most were his hands. When he was explaining a profile, he always communicated a lot with his body language and honestly, the swaying of his hands, combined with the tranquility in his tone of voice, was very hypnotic to you, as if keeping the attention of others was something inescapable for him, although it was probably easier to keep your attention specifically. Right now, while everyone was minding their own business, you were watching sideways as he ran his middle finger over the printed lines. It made you nervous to see the delicacy with which he moved across the sheet of paper and inevitably your mind traveled to inappropriate corners related to that movement, which embarrassed you to the point of blushing. Thank heavens he was too focused to notice you, so you forced yourself to work on the few reports Reid had let you keep.
The days were very rare when no cases appeared, but you were grateful that they existed because sometimes it was necessary to take a breather. Seeing so many bodies, so much blood and so much inhumanity was something you never quite got used to, although having good teammates in your unit made it more bearable. So that night nothing stopped you from finishing right on time, with a little back pain from sitting all day, but also quite calm.
"I'll see you tomorrow, rest"
"Are you going to your apartment?" Spencer asked, rushing towards you with his coat in hand and the briefcase slung over his shoulder, and you nodded Can you wait for me to go together?â
You looked at him, more confused than you wanted, but you said yes. It's not that you were upset or that you didn't want company, but that you were curious as to why he might have offered to do it.
"Thanks again, for earlier," you said, once both of you were outside. You lived a few streets from the office and you could get there in less than 20 minutes by taking a subway station, which fortunately was the same one he took.
âOkay, they were too many for you. I mean, it's not that I think you can't do the job, you're very capable, it's just that I thought it was too much workload for just you and I⊠well, I could help you so I did itâ with that Reid held up a hand to downplay the matter and smiled at you.
âWhy have we never thought about walking to the subway together?â
"I don't know either," he said. You felt a gust of wind hit the both of you so you hugged yourself to try and get some warmth and even though Spencer wasn't the best at reading social cues he managed to figure out what you had and what he needed to doÂ
âHereâ he murmured, as he spread the coat and put it on your shoulders.
âOh no, no, no, Reid. I'm fine"
"In fact, if you don't use it you can catch a cold and although there are very few cases in which there are complications that lead to death, the symptoms last about a week and you can infect several people during the first days, so you not only you would be taking care of yourself but also the rest of the teamâ he informed you. That made you smile, and you found that behind all his scientific mumbo jumbo, he was trying to take care of you.
"It's a little big on me," you laughed, reaching into the sleeves with some help from him.
âYou look prettyâ he blurted out from his lips, completely entranced by you âWell, the⊠the coat. It looks goodâ he tried to fix, but you laughed at the compliment that you definitely wouldn't pass up.
"Aren't you cold?"
âNo, my shirt and vest help,â Spencer replied, showing you the long sleeve of her white shirt. âI also have my scarf, did you forget it?â
"The best choice in all your outfits" you joked, reaching out a hand to feel the soft fabric of the garment and looking at him, with that cute shy smile "What will you do when you get to your apartment?"
âHuh, probably get some sleep. I haven't been resting properly in the past few days."
"Nightmares again?" you sadly asked. Spencer had talked to you superficially about it a few days ago, although you thought that he had suffered from this disease for much longer than he wanted to admit. He didn't answer verbally, he just nodded his head and you thought he didn't want to delve into it âI think I'll spend a while in the bathtub and then I'll sleep. I'm exhausted"
âYou close doors and windows before you sleep, right?â
"I do," you assured him.
âDo you also take your cell phone with you to call in case of emergencies?â
"Huh, yeah"
"Good. Take care of yourselfâ he insisted. Those didn't sound like random recommendations and that puzzled you a bit.
"I do, Reid," you replied softly. When you noticed that the concern in his features did not leave him, you thought it would be prudent to ask him why that was "Are you worried about something?"
"No, it's not that" he hastened to answer. You still had a few blocks to go to get to the subway and only a few passers-by walked the streets, besides you.
âAre they unsub then? Anything in particular that worries you?"
"It's nothing like that. It's justâŠâ he gasped, still unsure to continue, âif I tell you, you'll think it's sillyâ
"Of course not. Tell me, what is it?" you asked. He was internally debating if he should tell you what he was thinking and he was convinced a little when he felt your hand on his arm, as if prompting him to speak.
âYesterday IâŠâ he started to say âI had a nightmare. I dreamed when I arrived at the office I found out that something bad had happened to you. And⊠I don't know, it felt very real and I couldn't get it out of my headâ he admitted. You understood that perhaps it was the reason he had wanted to accompany you, as if he feared that someone might stalk you on the way.
âSpenceâ you murmured gently, as you pulled him a little in your direction to place one hand on his bicep and the other on his forearm âDon't worry, nothing's going to happen to me. My apartment complex has a good security system and I always carry my gun, if something happens on the street, I will know how to deal with it. They're just bad dreams, I have them sometimes tooâ you said to reassure him. You felt quite comfortable walking in that position and you continued a couple of steps holding him like this, looking for some negative sign from him, but it never came. With the closeness he managed to feel a little less fear, reminding himself that what tormented him were fantasies of his own mind, that if they were analyzed with a little more detail they were an unconscious reflection of how much he feared losing you.
"I told you it would be silly"
"It is not. It's quite sweet, actually,â you smiled, moving your thumb up and down as you smiled at him. In that position your face was at the height of the boy's shoulder and it was enough for him to turn his head to reach your forehead, so he wondered how much you would bother if he left you a kiss there. He wanted to, but held back.
âI just thought I should tell you. For you to be careful"
âSame to you, Reid. You have a rather peculiar ability to get into troubleâ you exclaimed accusingly, because in a couple of cases the man had already managed to get on your nerves.
The position turned out to be cozier than you expected and you continued walking the rest of the streets towards the subway in silence. He concentrated on the feeling of your body so close to him and your hands gently holding him, while you lost yourself in thought wondering what you really felt about your coworker and what he felt for you. Spencer would look at you from time to time, analyzing your gestures and enjoying the sight of you wearing his clothes, something he didn't think would affect him the way he did.
âDid you know that railway suicides have a very small percentage in the country's suicide rate?â he told you, while the two of you looked at the subway tracks that you were waiting for. You had had to distance yourself to be able to pay the pennies for the ticket and you had decided to place your hands in the pockets of your borrowed coat, caressing the lining fabric with your fingers.
"I had no idea" you muttered. You were a little surprised that he always had an interesting fact about literally anywhere you were and you loved hearing him tell you âIt must be horrible. And very sad"
"Even the government allocates certain resources to pay for psychological therapy for drivers who witness these suicides"
"Well, at least it comforts me to know that part of my taxes ends there," you joked bitterly and the train stopped just as you finished saying it. Reid let you first into the nearly empty car that would take you home, and along the way you continued to talk about less unfortunate things, like the dinner choices you were planning or the TV shows that were likely to be airing when you arrived.
Having those little quiet moments with him made you feel lucky and the laughs he managed to get filled your chest with joy, making you completely forget everything related to work. The voice in the wagon warned that your stop was next and an anticipated sadness invaded you.
âBeâŠâ
"Be careful, I know" you smiled. Since you were already on your feet, so as not to miss your stop, you crouched down to give him a quick goodbye hug âSee you tomorrow. Try to sleep and if you have nightmares you can call me, okay?" you muttered. He nodded from his place as he watched you leave towards the platform and leaned out the window to see your figure disappear into the distance.
Neither of you two realized that you had kept his coat until you got home.
As of that night, that coat returned to see the doctor's closet on very few occasions and the purple scarf went on to have joint custody. He had found out that if he loved anything more than wearing the clothes you gave him, it was seeing you wearing them, causing him to come up with totally pathetic excuses to accomplish that.Â
"It's a bit cold" "Purple matches your clothes" or simply "keep it, it looks better on you than on me"
It soon became a habit. During the cases, when you two were apart, it was a little comforting to have something of him with you and when he came home, he would enjoy breathing in the smell of your perfume impregnated on the fabric.
After a few weeks you realized that, without a doubt, you were so in love with him. And when he realized the same thing, he was completely terrified.
âReidâ you greeted him one morning, catching up with him as he poured himself a coffee and analyzed a piece of bread that had surely been sitting there since the day before. Hugs when seeing him had also become a habit, quite nice from the manâs point of view "I have something for you"
"Again?"
"Oh yeah," you smiled. Lately you had been filling him with small gifts and most of them quite rare, but which he kept suspiciously in his desk drawer. And it's not that he didn't appreciate it, but that he was beginning to feel guilty for receiving so many and not having given you any yet. "Give me your keys," you asked and he obeyed without even questioning you. Once you had them in your hand, you took a strip of colored beads from your pocket that you added as a key ring, while he looked at you with some confusion.
"What's that?"
âMy friend asked me to babysit her daughter this weekend and we went crazy with crafts. So I thought I'd do this to youâ you muttered. He took a closer look at the keyring and noted that you had included his favorite colors, purple and green, as well as a heart-shaped bead at the end. "I know it looks like a preschool kid's creation and if you're embarrassed to wear it you can throw it awayâ
"No, I like it. It's pretty,â he smiled, running his long fingers over the beads. Satisfied with the answer, you took out your own keys and proudly showed them to him.
"I have one just like it," you said happily. That was true, only yours was made of pink and blue, and the way you said it completely touched the man.
"You make me think that there is still goodness in this world, you know?" he exclaimed, so sincere and without thinking that he surprised you "I loved it, thank you very much"
"Now that I think about it, it's like one of those friendship bracelets you make at summer campâ
âI never went to a summer campâ
"I don't know why I'm not surprised" you laughed and would have continued the conversation if it hadn't been for Hotch's interruption.
âWe've got a case. Conference room in 5â
Sometimes you forgot that the real reason you were there was the criminal profiles and not seeing Spencer Reid every day.
You just woke up one morning and knew you had to tell Spencer how you felt about him. As you said before, Spencer seemed to have a special magnet for trouble and proof of this were the cases in which he had to perform dangerous tasks that you knew no one else could do. When he had to get on that train with Ted Bryar you'd gone crazy and last week when he'd watched that cult boy on Massanutten Mountain threaten Reid with a gun you decided you'd had enough.
He had expressed concern for your well-being on multiple occasions, but what about his? Didn't you have the right to care about him just as much? every time he came back you wanted to throw yourself into his arms and whisper in his ear if he was okay, to maybe leave a kiss or two on his cheeks. But every time he came back you just cheered with the rest of the team and barely had contact with him beyond a squeeze on the shoulder and a sincere:Â I'm glad you're okay.
So you thought that if you wanted to have that kind of privilege over others the only alternative was to profess your love to him in the hope that he would feel the same way and you could work something out.
Spencer, for his own part, also had his epiphany and as much as he tried to avoid it he ended up asking Morgan for advice, who was the only person he thought would be suitable to talk about this kind of subject. Surprisingly, Derek behaved discreetly and really gave the doctor valuable elements to understand one of the few sciences in which science was almost obsolete: love.
Going back to recently acquired habits, walking together to the subway was another one of them. Sometimes this was interrupted because he or you stayed longer than the other, but except for those cases it was a regular activity.
So that night, when you two were walking to the station, your mind was immersed in remembering the speech with which you planned to tell your friend.
"You're very quiet today," Reid observed, taking you by surprise. In a few months he had already learned very well some traits that indicated that something was wrong with you.
âSorry, I⊠I have a few things on my mind,â you apologized, but Spencer didn't know what to say because he also had his own things on his mind. He was desperately searching for a way to put into words what he felt, but he kept wondering, could that be explained? All attempts at reasoning became useless with you near him, maybe that's why he couldn't think of how to tell you "Reid, I don't think I've ever asked you, but have you ever had a partner?"
"Like⊠couple?" he asked, trying to make sure you were referring to the same thing he thought.
âI know it sounds weird, but it just⊠made me curious,â you exclaimed, shrugging and then crossing your arms in an attempt to comfort yourself. Reid fondly watched how your arms were on that purple scarf and felt a little motivated to speak.
âHuh, in that case, yes, something like that. I dated two people when I was in school, but it wasn't anything serious, just a few kissesâ he explained to you and you failed to contain your laughter, maybe because of the way he had explained it. Spencer blushed to his ears and smiled reflexively at your smile. "Don't tease!"
"I don't" you defended yourself. Another person walked down the sidewalk and he reached out his arm to move you protectively in front of him, so when you came back to his side you took advantage of the distance between you, to the point where your shoulder brushed against his arm.
"And you?" he asked after a while of silence "Have you had many boyfriends?"
"The truth? not so many. With most of them I lost interest after the first date and the others left me when they found out I was in the academy. Apparently armed women aren't very attractiveâ you smiled. You had asked about his romantic history, and incidentally talked a bit about yours, only to open the topic and somehow feel that your confession would not be so out of place.
âThere are studies that indicate that women take longer to fall in love than men, perhaps that is why you lost interest quickly. For you it takes about 6 or 8 dates to decide if you want something with a person, because you are more selective and better analyze personality traits in men. But they only care that the girls are⊠well, prettyâ he murmured, with a smirk âOn average it takes women 134 days to fall in love while men only 88â
âHow long have you and I known each other?â
"It must be like... a year and a half now" he exclaimed, mentally doing the math "Why?" he continued legitimately confused. For the genius that he was, Reid was naive at times.
You looked down at him and for a second thought that even with those bags under his eyes and the stubble he hadn't shaved, Spencer was the most handsome man you'd ever met. Not receiving an answer, he looked at you and was surprised to see the sparkle in your eyes.
"Okay, can we stop here for a moment?" you asked. You knew you were probably going to chicken out if you didn't say it right then, even if that closed beauty salon you were standing in front of was an unromantic place. "I need to tell you somethingâ
You had said it with determination, but once you were face to face, your mind went blank. You panicked: how were you going to tell him? What was the right thing to say? What reaction did you expect?
But Spencer, noticing the silence, decided to be the first to speak.
âNoradrenaline is a neurotransmitter that produces excitement and effusivity, increases heartbeat, blood pressure, causing sweating of hands and flushing. High dopamine levels generate a need to be with the person that releases it and is related to serotonin, which generates well-being, optimism, social closeness, and reduces discomfort and anger. Phenylethylamine makes everything more intense, makes us feel more motivated and optimistic and finally, oxytocin is the love hormone par excellence, it occurs when we have a bond of trust with people or when we feel a strong attraction. Sometimes it is also released when we embrace the reason for our affectionâ he had said that so hastily and waving his hands, that he could only show how nervous he was. He inhaled to catch his lost breath, then finally made eye contact with you, taking a moment before continuing, âWhat I'm trying to say isâŠyou make me feel all of that. You alter my chemistry in ways I've never thought of and⊠and I⊠go all goofy and don't know what to sayâŠâ
"Spencer" you interrupted him "You mean you like me?" you asked gently, because you knew that when he started to wander sometimes you needed to bring him back down to earth. Reid looked at you tight-lipped and nodded slowly.
You were silent for a second, trying to process what he had just told you, and he got even more nervous than he was.
âBut I think that after all this what I care to know is⊠if you feel the same way. Or in the worst case, if you think you might feel something like thisâ
âA total chemical mess for you?â you exclaimed amused. One of your hands went to his and you gently held it, taking a step closer to him. âI'm sorry, Reid. I feel it every time I look at you, that you hug me, every time I give you those silly gifts and see the smile on your face. Everything in you causes me that"
"Are you serious?" he asked, wanting to be completely sure what he was hearing. You laughed and wrapped your free arm around his neck, pulling him into a hug.
âOf course I do. Before you said all that I was racking my brain trying to find a way to tell you how I felt."
âDid you know that this is a phenomenon? There are those who call it the tuning fork effect, which is when two people connect the same idea at the same time, almost as if they had been thinking at the same frequency.â
You chuckled and buried your head in his neck, letting go of his hand so you could hug him properly. He wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his head in your hair, willing to say nothing more for fear of ruining the moment. All the fears you had had were being buried with that contact, because now you had the certainty that what you felt was mutual.
You stayed like that for what felt like hours, just listening to the gentle beating of his heart and enjoying the sense of security that being in the man's arms made you feel.
"I really like you" you broke the silence, with a whisper, making him smile.
"I think the most logical step from here would be to ask you out on a date, no?" he muttered. You pulled away enough to look at him, but still leaving your arms around his shoulders.
âI don't want to have to wait. Let's go for a burger"
"Don't you prefer somewhere more... formal?"
"Leave formal places for proposals, handsome," you said in a playful voice, caressing his cheeks with your extended palm and he made a mental note that this Italian restaurant he was thinking of inviting you to would be the ideal place to ask you to take the next step, when the time was right.Â
âI still have to take you on at least 6 dates, to be sureâ
"Fuck the statistics, I don't need that burger to know I'm in love with you," you said and he grinned from ear to ear.
âI know a place with an excellent health label and organic food, it is a few streets from hereâ
"I follow you" you answered cheerfully "On one condition"
"Which?"
"Let me hold your hand," you asked softly and Reid wasted no time in fulfilling your wish, leading you to the restaurant that way.
And at the end of the night, when you stole a kiss from him, he couldn't have felt luckier.
merry (early) christmas @galacticlee3 !! I was your squealing santa this year <3 i was so happy to be writing this for you since I love writing ler!spencer and I know you enjoy my work. hope you enjoy!!! special thanks to @squealing-santa for putting this together â€ïž
word count: 1,400
pairing: spencer reid x reader (romantic)
summary: reader needs a massage and Spencer tries helping
âGod, my neck is killing me,â You sighed, rubbing it gently as you rolled your head from side to side. âNext time, remind me to stretch before taking down a 250-pound killer.â
Spencer laughed quietly, his head down as he read the files, but his eyes flitted up to you. He watched as you attempted to massage your own neck, noticing how it was alleviating your pain. âI donât think stretching would help. He slammed you against a wall. What youâre experiencing is mild whiplash.â
âWell, it hurts,â You groaned, leaning forward in your seat to rest your elbows on your knees, hands cradling your heavy head. Spencer shut the file, his attention now fully onto you. He had been watching you a lot recently. You caught his attention early on; a giggle Spencer had never heard before had him asking JJ who you were. She explained that you were an internal transfer to the BAU. Youâd been working in domestic terrorism before.
He was smitten with you since then, but wouldnât dare say that out loud. Though, he had an inkling that Penelope already knew. She was good at reading people romantically.
He longed to be the one to care for you; holding your hand when things got scary, hugging you when you were down, making you hot tea when you were sick. He battled with his own thoughts as he observed you sighing in defeat.
His hands were nimble and mildly cold, but maybe he could help.
âIââ Spencer started, cutting himself off before he could finish. His stomach churned with a nervousness heâd never experienced before. Your head slowly lifted to catch Spencer swiveling his chair back to face his desk.
âWhat, Spence?â
Spence. He loved it when you called him that. Before you joined the team, JJ and Emily had been the only 2 to ever coin that nickname and while he never minded it, he wouldnât say he loved the way it made him feel when it spilled from their lips. With you, it made a fire ignite in his chest.
Spencer cleared his throat and anxiously fiddled with his fingers. âI was justâum, well⊠I could try and h-help if you want. With your neck, you knowâŠâ
You smiled, more at Spencerâs stuttering than at the offering he gave you. He was normally timid in social conversationsâa sharp turn from when heâs authoritative on a caseâbut it was endearing. You knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Spencer had taking a liking to you. Flattered wasnât the right word to describe how you felt about it. Possibly enchanted or âmutualâ.
âYou really wouldnât mind?â You asked him, already knowing his answer. Spencer perked up and gave you a tight-lipped smile, shaking his head. âBecause that would be very helpful.â
âIâm not saying Iâd be particularly good at it, but I can try,â He replied, voice shaking slightly. He was nervous, but looked terrified. You giggled and shrugged the best you could without putting yourself in discomfort.
âItâll be fine, Spence. Anything at all would probably help,â You said, turning your desk chair around so that your back was now facing him. You heard the squeak of his as he made to stand up, then the pitter of his feet as he sauntered to stand directly behind you. He let out a breath and you shivered slightly as the cold air of it just barely grazed your skin, sending goosebumps down your spine.
âWhere is the center of your pain?â He asked you. Lifting your right hand, you pointed to the base of your neck.
âHere, mostly. And a little near my shoulder blades,â You answered, suddenly shy about the situation. Itâs just Spencerâno reason to be nervous. Holding your breath, you awaited Spencerâs touch and once he finally made contact, you flinched.
âSorry!â He said, immediately retracting his hand.
âNo, no, Spence, itâs fine! I just canât see, so I didnât know when you were about to touch me,â You assured him, chuckling under your breath. âIâm ready now.â
âYouâre sure?â
You smiled, even though he couldnât see. âIâm sure.â
Still, you held your breath and tensed out of instinct as you felt Spencerâs hand rest on the back of your neck. He gently pressed into the place where your neck and back met with his thumb, easily becoming more confident as he felt you relax under his fingertips.
âRight here?â Spencer questioned you. You hummed a short and quiet response and he grinned wider at you. âJust tell me if anything hurts.â
Spencer worked his fingers in that spot until your skin began turning red from the continuous rubbing, then slid his hand over to the crook of your neck on the right side. You squealed and shrugged your shoulder up, trapping his hand.
Realizing what youâd done, you released him, swiveling around in panic. âOh, God! Iâm sorry! I just⊠well, Iâm a littleâŠâ
âTicklish,â Spencer smiled, finishing your sentence for you. You blushed as your head fell, eyes looking into your lap.
âYeah. I thought Iâd gotten over that⊠Itâs so embarrassing,â You mumbled, bringing your hand up to your neck to cover up the ticklish spot.
Spencer, on the inside, felt like heâd just won the lottery. What better way to get close to someone than to tickle them? On the outside, though, he kept his composure. He reached out, placing his hand on your arm, prompting you to look up at him.
âItâs not embarrassing. Itâs a normal response. Everyone is at least a little ticklish and anyone who says they arenât, are lying. It has to do with nerve endings. And you canât just get over being ticklish,â Spencer explained, sneakily reaching down with his free hand to pinch your side gently. You yelped and looked up at him, unaware that a smile was creeping onto your face as well. âNow, turn back around. Iâll be careful.â
You rolled your eyes playfully, obeying his words. Your chair squeaked at it pivoted back to its previous position. Spencerâs eyes shifted to where your hand was still covering your neck and smirked to himself before wiggling his finger into your armpit.
âAHA!â You whipped your elbow down and leaned forward. âSpence!â
âYour hand was still on your neck,â Spencer shrugged, an uncharacteristic shit-eating grin on his lips. You grunted and situated yourself back against the chair, sighing dramatically.
Spencer went back to massaging, putting enough pressure not to tickle you, but as he moved to that spot between your shoulder blades and he braced his other fingers onto your ribs, you giggled again, arching away from him.
âSpencer! You said youâd be careful!â You chastised him.
âI was trying to help you!â He replied, going to squeeze at your ribs again. âItâs not my fault youâre too ticklish to handle it.â
âWAHAHA! Noho!â You laughed, squirming in your seat. âIhitâs embaharrassing!â
Spencer began tickling every exposed spot he could find, watching as you attempted to block each and every one from him. He clicked his tongue. âThereâs nothing wrong with being ticklish! Everyone is.â
âSpehehence!â
âNow, repeat after me: âitâs okay to be ticklishâ,â Spencer ordered, contracting his fingers into your sides with vigor. Had you had any control over your body, you might have stood up to get away from his attack, but you knew that you werenât strong enough to stand. Plus, you didnât actually mind TOO much.
âIâm nohohot saying thahat!â You yelled back through your giggles.
Spencer tickled up your torso, forcing his hands under your arms and vibrating his fingers as best as he could. That really got you laughing. âIâm not stopping until you admit it.â
âOKAY, OKAY, OKAHAHAY! ITâS OKAY TO BEHEHE TICKLIHISH!â You belly-laughed, a snort sneaking out at the last second. You instantly covered your mouth, whining and cradling your head in your free hand. âI canât believe yohou made me snort.â
âIt was cute,â Spencer responded quietly, surprisingly confident in his tone. He shuffled to stand in front of you, squatting down so that he was face to face with you. âI think everything you do is cute.â
In shock, your head whipped up, smiling at his confession and that the pain in your neck was basically gone. âYou⊠you mean that?â
âY-yeah,â He stuttered. âI do.â
Your eyes roamed his face, taking in every inch, and you bit your lip. âWell, I feel the same.â You reached out and grabbed his forearm, rubbing your thumb against his sleeve. âBut I have a question.â
His eyes shot up to meet yours. âAnything.â
âYou said that everyone is ticklishâŠâ
âYeahâŠâ
âSo, that means you are too, then?â
And with the fear in Spencerâs eyes, you already knew you had your answer.