i got a 90 on one of my tests đ„čâŒïž
sorry for lack of fics :((( i have been trying to write but i have two mid sem tests and three final assignments due in the next few weeks a h a h a i will be back
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will lamontagne jnr the man you are
watching s7 finale and it makes me sad realising how they destroyed jj and will đč
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everyone looks so good s7 finale
watching s7 finale and it makes me sad realising how they destroyed jj and will đč
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pretty boy
pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: spencer walks in one day with a new look. you handle it pretty well.
a/n: im in the opposite of a writing slump right now (will prob fall into a writing slump right after i say this) probably because im procrastinating on essays for school and i can only write when im meant to be doing work. but tiny little fluffy spencer one shots are very good for the soul right now. i think it's my way of healing from my hotch fic
wc: 1.8k
warning(s): one slightly sexual joke from emily. all fluff
You usually donât get to the office this early, but you donât exactly have a choice. The BAUâs last couple cases have all run one after another, barely leaving you any time in the office, and now youâre paying for it.Â
Youâve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and not nearly enough time to do it allâif youâre lucky, youâll be writing reports for a few days straight. If youâre not, youâll be putting in some overtime. Â
âThis is the most focused Iâve ever seen you this early,â Derek comments.Â
You shake your head with a sigh. âThese reports are government mandated torture.âÂ
He chuckles, and he nods at Emily as she walks over to her desk. âAre you this busy?âÂ
She shakes her head. âIâve still got a report to get through, but nothing that bad.âÂ
âI get it,â you say wryly. âYouâre all more organized than me. Just donât come to me asking to go out tonightâyou know I canât say no.âÂ
âBut donât shots taste better when youâre supposed to be doing work?â Derek asks, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.Â
âNot when Iâve got this much work Iâm supposed to be doing.âÂ
You hear the elevator ding and glance upâSpencerâs walking through and fixing his tie. You look back down at your report as you greet him.Â
âHey, Spence,â you call. âWhyâre you late?âÂ
âIâm not late,â he says, and you can see him checking his watch out of your peripherals. âIâm two minutes and thirty-three seconds early.âÂ
âReally?â you muse. âI guess Iâm just so used to you being here before me.âÂ
âYou canât judge my timeliness on yours when youâve been here for an hour already,â Spencer says.Â
You frown, tapping your pen against the paper. âHow do you know?âÂ
âYouâre settled in already. Your coatâs on your chair, your stack of unfinished files is smaller than it was last time we were in the office, your coffee isnât steaming, and your mug has a chipped handleâwhen they were put away last night, that one was set in the front, so youâd have to be here early to get it.âÂ
âTouche,â you murmur. Youâre not sure why you ever ask your team of profilers how they know something.Â
âYou also look like you donât want to be here,â he comments. âThatâs pretty typical of agents who have to be here before their regular hours.âÂ
You chuckle and tilt your head in admission. You donât really want to be here, especially running on so few hours of sleep.Â
âWhy arenât you as early as usual?â Emily asks.Â
âMy neighbor knocked on my door this morning to ask me for something,â Spencer says. âIt threw off my whole routine. I picked the wrong tie, I couldnât pack my bag properly, and I had to toast my bagel for two minutes instead of three and a half to make it out in time.âÂ
âHow terrible,â Derek says with mock austerity.Â
âIt is terrible!â he exclaims. âItâs scientifically proven that a morning routine makes you happier, more energized, and ready to seize the dayâcarpe diem.â Spencer sets his bag on the floor next to his desk and looks at everyone else with a smile. âDid you know that phrase was actually coined by the Roman poet Horace in his Odes? It comes from the first book out of four in the eleventh poemâthe full phrase in Latin is carpe diem, quam miniââ
âHow was your bagel?â Emily asks to interrupt him, and he pauses.Â
âIt was good,â he says. âCouldâve been toastier.âÂ
You look up, a teasing remark on the edge of your tongue, but the words die in your throat when you actually see him.Â
Spencerâs started combing a hand through his hair to fix itâmust have been another part of his affected morning routineâhis lips set in a pout as he tries to see his reflection in his dark monitor. He always looks good, even without trying, but nowâ
âYouâre wearing glasses,â you say dumbly.Â
âMy contacts dried out,â he grumbles, still focused on his hair. âWe got home so late last night I forgot to put them in their solution, and I had no time to fix them because my neighbor messed up my whole morning.âÂ
You nod, still unable to tear your eyes away from him. âAre you gonna keep wearing them?âÂ
âI donât know. Contacts are better for cases because Iâm not worried about them falling off or fogging up, but I usually sleep on the jet on the way back, and sleeping with contacts in isnât good.â He smiles a bit as he fully turns to you, seemingly satisfied with his hair. âIt reduces the amount of oxygen that gets to your cornea, which damages the corneaâs surface and makes it harder to regenerate new cells. Sleeping with contacts actually makes you six to eight times more likely to get an eye infection.â
You nod again, your brain still not quite working at full power. You always love listening to Spencerâs fact dumpsâit gives you a lot of material to impress your non-BAU friends with on the side, and youâre eternally thankful for thatâbut right now, you seriously cannot focus.Â
Youâd never really thought about him in glasses, but thatâs probably a good thing if this is how it makes you feel.Â
You were valedictorian as an undergrad, and you received stellar feedback from your professors during your masters program. Youâre an excellent profiler, a valued member of the BAU, and youâre a goddamn FBI agent.Â
And yet you canât find a single thought in your head because your coworker showed up to work wearing glasses.Â
Heâs still rambling about other common causes of eye infection and how nobody seems to take them as seriously as they should, when Derek, not even trying to hide his grin at your turmoil, speaks up. Â
âReid. Wanna cool it a bit?âÂ
Spencerâs eyes dart over to him for a moment before he stops. âUhâ sorry.â He frowns as he looks back at you. âWhy do you ask? Do you not like them?âÂ
âNo,â you blurt out, and you shake your head a multitude of times. âNo. They look great. You look great. Theyâreââ You dig your nails hard into your palm as you try your hardest to smile like normal, and this time you nod. âTheyâre good, Spence.âÂ
âThanks.â Spencer does that little smile-nod combo of his, and he pushes his glasses back into place with his thumb by the bottom of the frames. âThatâs nice to know Iâve got another option.âÂ
You thank whatever god may be out there that Hotch and Penelope are busy in their offices and JJ is busy with some other case, because you think you would die if anyone else saw you like this.Â
âHey, Reid,â Emily says, also not doing a very good job of hiding her amusement. You hate your team sometimes. âTheyâre almost out of sugar in the breakroom. If you want coffee the way you like it this morning, you should probably get in there.âÂ
âWhat?â Spencer shoots up, his brows already furrowing into a frown. âThatâ thatâs ridiculous. I canât mess up my morning any more.âÂ
âYouâd better get in there, then,â she remarks.Â
âWeâre an entire office of agents running on coffee,â Spencer complains as he starts walking. âHow are we almost out of sugar?âÂ
âBecause half of âem drink it black,â Derek says, and Spencer shakes his head with a sigh as he leaves.Â
âThatâs ridiculous.âÂ
You bury your head in your hands the moment heâs gone and Derek laughs. âI wish I couldâve gotten that on video.âÂ
âDonât talk to me,â you groan. âIt is not fair of him to walk in like that.âÂ
âAnd that is why I call him pretty boy.â
âHe needs them to see,â Emily says with amusement as she leans against the side of your desk. âYou just canât control yourself.âÂ
âI need to transfer offices,â you say, shaking your head. âI canât do this.âÂ
âYou should ask him out!â Derek encourages. âHeâd probably say yes.âÂ
âAbsolutely not,â you insist. âI doubt he likes me like that. Aâ and even if he does, thatâs the last thing either of us need right now.âÂ
âI donât know,â Emily muses. âIt looks like you clearly need something.âÂ
You let out a frustrated noise as you screw your eyes shut. âIâm doomed.âÂ
You hear Spencer say your name, and when you look over at him, one hand still pressed against your head, you see heâs got two cups of coffee in his hands. âAre you okay?âÂ
âYeah,â you say weakly. âIâm great. Why?âÂ
âI got you one too,â he says, holding one of the mugs out to you. âThe one you have is probably cold by now, and it looks like you need an extra kick to get through all those reports.âÂ
âThanks, Spence. Thatâs sweet.â He nods as you take the proffered mug, and you swear your cheeks are as warm as the coffee. He is really testing your strength today.Â
âYouâ you have a lot,â he says, and you huff a dry laugh and nod. âIâm not trying to be sarcastic. I could take half of them if you want?âÂ
Your grip tightens on the mug and you can feel Derekâs eyes on you. âI couldnât make you do that, Spence.âÂ
âYouâre not!â Spencer exclaims. âI can get through mine really quicklyâwe worked together for almost the whole last case so I can do all of that anyways.âÂ
â...Youâre sure it wouldnât be an imposition?âÂ
âIâm sure,â he nods. âBesides, I offered. I wouldnât if I didnât want to.âÂ
And god damn him, because he nudges his glasses back into place again, pushes a strand of loose hair back into place. Youâre dying over here.Â
You set the mug of coffee on your desk and pick up the top half of your pile. âAll yours, Spence.âÂ
He takes the bottom half and smiles at you, and you smile back before he walks back to his desk. You are dying over here.Â
âLet me know how I can pay you back,â you say, and he shakes his head.Â
âYou donât need to pay me back.âÂ
âReally?âÂ
Spencer nods. âI mean, Morgan invited us all out on the jet last night, and I donât think I can do it alone. If you can get out of the office in time, I donât have to. I think that's enough of a payback.âÂ
âYeah,â you say. âIâll be there.âÂ
He smiles again and nods, then he picks up a pen and focuses in. You turn back to your desk, your face burning.Â
âWhat was that about him not liking you like that?â Derek says.Â
âQuiet!â you whisper-yell, swatting him with the pile of files in your hand. âHe might hear you!âÂ
âHeâs not hearing anything while heâs focused on that,â he says. âThat just means you can ogle him more.âÂ
You groan again, letting your forehead fall into your palm. âIâm pathetic.âÂ
âI think youâre right.â Emily chuckles as she stands up. âYou are doomed.âÂ
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iâm sorry did strauss and rossi hook up đ€
watching s7 finale and it makes me sad realising how they destroyed jj and will đč
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watching s7 finale and it makes me sad realising how they destroyed jj and will đč
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Hi! Can I request track one? :)
Spencer Reid being so shy to ask Fem! Reader out so Morgan flirts with them to push him to do it?:(
pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader
genre: friends to lovers
warnings:Â not proof read :(
a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3
wc: 700
Spencer isnât entirely sure why heâs so upset. Heâs got his lips drawn to a pout and his eyes are set on the computer in front of him. He chalks it up to the fact that his contact lenses have been drying out. That must be it.
âStare any harder and youâll break the screen.â
Youâre giggling at his unhappiness, but he doesnât feel an ounce of annoyance. In moments youâre placing a steaming cup of tea onto his desk with a tiny pitcher of milk, before swiping a few of his files off his pile.Â
âYou donâtââ
âHush, Spencer. You probably have filled more overtime hours in the past week than I have in the last four years. Let me take these off of you, okay?â You smile at him before leaning down to murmur into his ear, âTheyâre probably Morganâs anyway, so donât worry about it.â
Spencer flushes, his cheeks warming to a pretty pink at your closeness and he can smell your vanilla perfume. Every thought in his brain vanishes and heâs pretty sure that he wonât be able to think for the next hour or so. His mouth opens and closes like a broken hinge and you walk away to sit at your own desk.Â
âWhenâs the wedding?â Derek asks through a snicker, reaching a hand out and ruffling Spencerâs already unkempt hair.Â
âWhâ stop,â Spencer manages weakly, pushing his bangs out of the way and huffing. âKeep your voice down.â
âDidnât you say that you wanted to ask her to see that Russian film festival or something?â Derek asks, unrelenting. He gestures to the two tickets poking out of one of Spencerâs book. âYou already bought them?â
âI won them,â he corrects, scowling. âStop laughing!â
âDude, you have to ask her out,â Derek tries again. âKid, Iâm serious. A girl like that isnât going to wait around forever.â
Spencerâs annoyance is quick to dissipate into flusteredness, and he avoids his friendâs gaze. âShe shouldnât have to.â
âCome on, donât beat yourself up. Just go talk to her.â
His efforts are in vain as Spencer huffs again and turns back to his paperwork. Morgan shrugs, flexing his arms. Itâs far too early to be dealing with Spencerâs shyness and pining. Morgan watches as he sneaks yet another look in your direction, and it takes a lot in him to not throw the two of you together. Emily keeps reminding him to be patient. Penelope keeps informing him that âtheyâll get together in their own timeâ. Hotch would spare him a stern look.Â
Theyâre not in the room, though.
âHey, pretty girl.â
Morganâs call out is enough for you to raise your head and for Spencerâs face to morph into look of genuine betrayal. Heâs frantically moving his hand across his neck as a very obvious sign to cut it out. Morgan pays him no mind.
âWhatâs up?â You ask brightly, finishing your sentence before turning to look at him. âDid you need something?â
âYouâre looking particularly gorgeous today, you know that?â Derek wears a lazy smirk as he looks at you up and down, and you only manage to laugh.
âHa ha.â You roll your eyes, glancing briefly at Spencer who could have been mistaken for a cherry. âWhat are you playing at, Morgan?â
The man claps his hands together, rubbing his palms. âAre you free tomorrow night? Iâve got a bottle of wine that has our names on it.â
Spencer looks aghast. He recalls the information on the tickets he had won, andâ tomorrow night. Thatâs when the film festival is happening.Â
âShe doesnât drink,â Spencer butts in before you can respond, snatching the tickets from the inside of his book and getting up from his seat to make his way over to you. âI was umâ Iâve got these tickets for a film festival tomorrow. Itâs in Russian, but I can whisper the translations to you so you understand. You donâtâ you donât have to go. I know it might not be your thingââ
âIâd love to go, Spence.â You smile at him, plucking one of the tickets from his hands. âA whole evening with you? Who wouldnât enjoy that? Sorry, Derek.â
Derek raises his hands in surrender, and when you arenât looking, shoots Spencer a thumbs up. Penelope would be proud.Â
reblogs are always appreciated !
events page
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i want to get a tattoo (a small one... maybe a cute little heart or a bow?) at some point but at the same time ... why are they so expensive ...
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would anyone like to read my hogwarts!spencer reid x reader fic and see if they prefer third (she/her) or second (you/your) person?
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sorry for lack of fics :((( i have been trying to write but i have two mid sem tests and three final assignments due in the next few weeks a h a h a i will be back
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Hi congrats on the Milestone, for the event can i ask for prompts 15 and 16 (angsty ones) Ty! đđ
EAVESDROP [CLIMACTERIC]
/ËiËvzdrÉp/
15. "You heard that?â
16. "I didn't mean it.â
WARNINGS: miscommunication (i hate and love miscommunication way too much), happy ending
spencer reid x gn!reader || fluff || 3.0k || event masterlist!!
a/n: when i said that these were going to be coming out slower i unfortunately meant it đ didnât help that i had massive writerâs block with this one either ripâ
main masterlist!!
You really didnât mean to eavesdrop. You just happened to get to the office early that morning and figured itâd be an opportune time to make yourself some coffee.
But once you heard your name in the mix of the conversation that Spencer and Morgan were having you found yourself waiting around the corner until they finished what they had to say.
ââshould just ask,â
âThatâs awkward, besides, if I was going to then itâd have to be something more meaningful,â You can hear Spencer sigh in exasperation as he shuts down Morganâs suggestion, and your imagination tells you he probably has his face furrowed almost in a pout like he usually does when heâs frustrated.
âThen plan something, you canât just wait for something to happen, you have to take action man,â Morgan sounds determined in his beliefs, and it leaves you with a furrowed expression as you try and piece together what theyâre talking about and how it relates back to you.
Spencer wants to ask you something. In a âmeaningfulâ way. Because heâs been sitting around waiting for something for too long.
What?
âI know that,â Spencer lets out another sigh, and you can hear the sound of his mug hitting the kitchenette counter. âIâm just afraid that theyâre going to turn me down, okay? I really like them and I want this to go well,â
If their conversation was a tv show you wouldâve rewound it to hear what Spencer just said again.
Spencer Reid. Dr Spencer Walter Reid just openly admitted to liking you.
Thereâs a major part of your brain that tells you that he just meant it platonically, that he just really valued your friendship and didnât want to ruin it by asking you whatever he was going to.
And then there was another part of your brain telling you that that was complete bullshit, because what kind of question could possibly be so bad that it would mean you didnât want to be friends with him anymore?
It had to be something inherently romantic, or Spencerâs concerns wouldnât make any logical sense, which was a very off brand thing for him.
âItâll never âgo wellâ if you donât actually ask,â
The small flutter in your heart only proves to increase at Morganâs reply, and if you were an actual part of the conversation youâd agree with him.
You wanted Spencer to ask you whatever was plaguing his mind, whether it be to take you on a date somewhere or even if itâs just to get lunch with him on your shared break. Any step forward was a step in the right direction, and you wanted that next step.
He doesnât.
The whole day goes by without a single peep from Spencer in relation to his little pep talk with Morgan in the morning, and it was beginning to frustrate you just a little.
Of course you wouldnât actually be frustrated if you hadnât overheard the conversation they were having, but that wasnât your fault. It was like the fates were trying to bring you together.
And you were letting them drag you in whatever direction they deemed fit.
âHey Spencer!â You catch him right as he steps into the elevator, and he sticks out a hand over the motion sensor to keep the door open for you.
âHey,â Spencer gives you a small, awkwardly endearing smile as you join him inside the elevator, retracting his hand to grip the strap of his messenger bag.
âThanks,â You let out a stuttered exhale as you catch your breath from the mild jog you made to reach the door, pulling on the shoulders of your shirt to straighten it back out.
âNo problem,â He gives you another small smile, and then the conversation falls silent, the sound of the doors opening as the two of you reach the ground level being the only thing to break the stillness of your joined company.
You couldnât really tel whether the lack of conversation was awkward or not, but you did know that the longer you were in his sole company the more that you wanted to oust your knowledge of his earlier conversation with Morgan, to the point where you were rehearsing how to bring it up in your head.
âIâll see you tomorrow,â Spencer gives you a small wave as the two of you step out of the elevator and into the covered parking lot, stuffing his hands into his pockets and turning around to walk away before you can reply.
You swear you catch the tiniest glimpse of him mouthing something to himself with a furrowed expression as he turns around, like heâs berating himself for something, and your brain decides that itâs the perfect time to just go for it, his name tumbling out of your mouth to no consciousness of your own.
âSpencerââ
He turns around at your call and your throat goes dry, your impulsiveness biting you right in the ass as you lose your confidence immediately under his gaze. âYeah?â
âYou⊠uh-â You watch as his eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion, and you clear your throat to throw your inhibitions out the window. You couldnât just not tell him now. âI overheard the conversation you were having this morning with Morgan, the uh⊠the one about me?â
You can practically see the colour drain from his face at your admission, and it immediately makes you regret bringing it up. He wasnât ready yet.
âYou-â He lets out a sharp exhale through his mouth, tugging at the strap of his back awkwardly. âYou heard that?â
You give him a small guilty nod with your lips pressed together, and he sucks in a breath like heâs forgotten how to breathe. âHow much of it did you hear..?â
âAbout⊠three quarters of it,â
He shuts his eyes, head dropping until the hair framing his face catches against his eyelashes.
Of course youâd heard it all. Because him stumbling over himself over how to properly approach you to Morgan wasnât humiliating enough.
No, you just had to be there to hear it.
There went any minuscule chance he had of actually managing to build something with you. You probably thought he was some weirdo who had some stalkerish fantasy of you.
âSpencerââ
âI didnât mean it.â Your attempt at elaborating was very quickly short lived as he cuts you off.
âI- What?â
âI didnât- I was just saying that to get Morgan off my back about not dating anyone,â Spencer knows heâs speaking straight out of his ass, but itâs the only thing that he can think of to say to possibly salvage a fraction of your friendship with him without making everything weird. âI didnât actually mean any of it-â
Thereâs a small pause, silence flooding the space between you until you feel like youâre drowning in it.
âOh,â Thereâs a split second where the astonishment shows across your face, and Spencer swears he catches a glimpse of disappointment in your irises before itâs covered up with something else. âRight- Yeah no that makes sense he can be quite annoying about that stuff canât he?â
He gives a pathetic laugh at your response. âYeahâŠâ
âWell Iâll uh, see you tomorrow thenâŠâ Thereâs no mistaking the awkward tension between the two of you as you rifle in your pocket for your car keys.
âYeah⊠See you tomorrowâŠâ
â
âI messed up. I messed up really bad.â Morgan barely has time to leave the elevator before Spencer is practically dragging him into the conference room to speak to him privately, without any chance of their conversation being heard.
âWell good morning to you too boy genius,â
âIâm serious Morgan, this is really bad-â Spencerâs face conveys absolute desperation, almost bordering patheticness from just how rifled he seems.
âOkay okay damn,â Morgan raises his arms in surrender, a silent vow to take Spencerâs worries seriously.
âThey overheard our conversation, the one about me being afraid to ask them out.â Spencer sighs in absolute indignation, taking a hand through his hair with an expression like his doctor just told him he wasnât going to wake up tomorrow morning.
âOh-â Morganâs eyes widen slightly at Spencerâs confession, straightening up and furrowing his eyebrows. âAnd?â
âAnd I told them that I was just saying I wanted to ask them out to get you off my back about dating-â
Morganâs shoulders drop, and he narrows his eyes slightly in a mix of confusion and absolute astoundment that he would fumble the bag that hard. âWhy did you do that?â
âBecause I didnât want things to get awkward, but when they walked into the office this morning they didnât even say good morning and weâve been sat in a stalemate for almost ten minutes which suggests that they didnât believe what I said and I did make it awkward and-â
âReid-â Morgan holds up a hand to stop Spencerâs rambling mid-sentence. âSlow your roll a minute, what actually happened?â
âThey caught me on the way out of the elevator to the parking lot yesterday and told me that they overheard our conversation,â Spencer drags his hand down his face in exasperation. âAnd I panicked and said that I didnât mean it and that it was just to get you to stop asking me about my dating life, so that it wouldnât make our friendship awkwardâŠâ
He exhales heavily, leaning his body weight against the conference table in defeat. âBut I donât think they believed me, and now theyâre acting like Iâm a stranger to them and I donât know what to do,â
âRight⊠Okay,â Morgan takes a few seconds to take in the information through furrowed eyebrows. âAnd youâre sure itâs because they donât believe you?â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â It was Spencerâs turn to furrows his features at Morganâs response. What else could it possibly be to do with?
âLook, Iâm not going to say anything, but you need to come clean and talk to them, right now.â
âWhatââ Spencer barely gets the question out of his mouth before Morgan is leaving his side to open the door of the conference room and yelling your name across the bullpen to bring you over.
âWhat are you doing?â Spencer Whisper-yells through his teeth as he watches you approach from over Morganâs shoulder, and he watches the way your curiosity turns to begrudgement as you realise that Morgan wasnât the only one there.
You literally fizzled out after realising that Spencer was there, what else was he supposed to think?
âYou two need to have a conversation,â Morgan points between the two of you before tugging you into the room by your forearm. âI am going to stand outside that door and you are not allowed to leave until youâve spoken to each other properly, no bullshit. You hear me?â
It feels like you and Spencer are two five year olds as Morgan looks between you, but you both nod stuntedly either way, and true to his word, Morgan leaves the room and leans his weight against the closed door so you canât push it open to leave.
âSoâŠâ
âSo-â
The tension between the two of you is palpable as you both try to start the conversation at the same time, but the fact that you were so similar in your awkward attempts at breaking the silence makes you laugh a little, which in turn makes Spencer laugh as well.
It was a little silly, but you were both glad for the break in the stalemate youâd put yourselves in, even if just for that moment before you found yourselves surrounded by silence once more, albeit a slightly more comfortable one.
âWell⊠UhâŠâ
âIâm sorry I assumed you liked me, romantically I mean,â You cut off Spencerâs awkward attempt at breaking the silence with your own blurted excuse. âI didnât mean to make things awkward between us I just thoughtââ You cut yourself short before you can finish to save yourself from your own embarrassment.
Spencer can only blink at your apology.
âIâ What?â
âWhen I cornered you in the parking lot yesterday, I shouldâve known it was just Morgan bothering you, I didnât mean to make you uncomfortable,â You clasp your hands behind your back, nervously wringing your hands together.
So it wasnât because you didnât believe him. You did. And you looked⊠upset about it? Dejected maybe? Spencer couldnât be quite sure, but whatever emotion you were displaying it wasnât something objectively positive.
âIâ You didnâtââ Spencer exhales heavily through his mouth, clenching his hands into fists as he internally fights with himself over whether to just spit it out and get it over with.
âYou need to come cleanâ.
Morgan sounded extremely assured in his statement when he directed Spencer earlier, like he knew what the outcome was going to be.
It wasnât a case of âcome clean because the truth is better than lyingâ, it was a âcome clean because whatever happens afterwards isnât going to be negativeâ.
âI lied to you,â
Spencerâs brain always worked faster than his body, but apparently heâd managed to override his own instincts and let his mouth make the decision for him before he could think through all of the possible consequences.
ââŠWhat?â The traces of disappointment in your eyes are diluted by a mix of surprise and confusion as you turn them up to his, and Spencer feels his throat dry out almost immediately.
âI wasnât trying to get Morgan off my back, IâŠâ Spencer lets out another small sigh. âI really was asking him for advice, I⊠I really like you, a lot, and I just didnât know how to tell you without ruining our friendship so Morgan was trying to help,â He lets out a small laugh, his fingers raking through his hair animatedly as he laments his own patheticness. âIt didnât go very well, clearly,â
Thereâs a small pause after his confession, the silence settling in Spencerâs chest and making him feel nauseous as he waits for a sign of how youâre going to respond.
The blankness on your face isnât very reassuring.
âYouâre being serious?â
ââŠmhmâŠâ Practically all of the conviction in Spencerâs tone disappears at your question, and he half-wishes that he could travel back in time so this conversation never happened.
âI like you too Spencer,â
âI understââ Spencer lowers his head as he dejectedly accepts your rejection. Except itâs not a rejection. âWhat?â
âI like you too,â You repeat yourself with determination, your eyes practically boring holes into his, and he swears he can feel his knees trying to buckle underneath him.
âYou uh⊠Really?â Spencer blinks at you like a deer in headlights, his genius brain seemingly unable to comprehend how the conversation, one Spencer was sure would end in your rejection and end with the two of you as practical strangers, somehow turned into this.
You give him a firm nod. âIâd like to go out with you Spencer, on a date, anywhere you like,â Your confidence starkly contrasts his shattered composure as you give him your proposal like youâre presenting in a board meeting. Although heâs sure itâs almost entirely feigned, and the way you fiddle with your fingers is evidence enough of his theory. âPlease?â
Thereâs a tinge of desperation in your tone as you add your small plea at the end, and it makes Spencer realise that heâs just blankly staring at you.
âIâ Yesâ Yes Iâd love to go on a date with you Uhââ Spencer thoroughly stumbles over his words in his rush to wipe the traces of doubt in your features. âIâd really like thatâŠâ
âGoodâ Good,â You let out a short laugh of relief at his answer, and he echoes it with your own as you stand in a shared dome of fluster together.
âDo you want to get lunch? Uh, together?â The way Spencer phrases the question was like a middle schooler trying to ask out their crush rather than a grown man, but it only makes the sentiment more endearing.
âThat sounds like a good idea,â Your answer is joined by a soft laugh that echoes from the back of your throat, and it makes Spencerâs heart flutter.
âOkay,â Spencer returns your chuckle with his own, gesturing curtiously towards the closed door like a true gentleman, and you have to suppress the urge to stamp a kiss against his pink cheeks as you pass him to push it open.
Thereâs less resistance than there should be as you push it open, with Morgan decidedly having left the two of you to your own devices to return to his desk without either of you realising.
He shoots the two of you a wink and a thumbs up as you walk down the stairs, and Spencerâs cheeks turn a slightly darker shade of red at the âunfortunateâ realisation that heâs due in for a whole load of jests and teases from him going forward.
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congrats on another new blog for a new fandom đ€
as a blog-warming request, can we add another fic to the best friend James with no boundaries pile???
HYPOTHERMIC - J.POTTER
you are the only feasible solution that james can think of to warm up his frozen extremities
WARNINGS: james and reader have an unconventional friendship, james and sirius being brothers as per, swearing, typical teenage antics
james potter x fem!reader || fluff || 1.8k || requests open!!
a/n: another new blog has spawned for another fandom (the marauders are encapsulating all of my thoughts rn)đ€ thanks for the âblog-warmingâ request ml đ«¶đ«¶
Itâs a crime James thinks, to have snow in April. It never snows in April back down in England, hell theyâre not likely to have snow at all.
But apparently living up north in Scotland spelled different news.
It was even more of a crime that he had to go out in the snow. Quidditch was great, but no one should have to be flying in -2° weather.
It was April, it was snowing, and James was cold.
By the time the team hit the showers he swore his fingers were going to fall off from hypothermia, a sentiment shared by most of his teammates as they spent a collective ten extra minutes under the hot water.
The trudge back to the Gryffindor common room was almost as treacherous as the training itself, the stone walls of the castle doing absolutely nothing to block the chill that ran through itâs corridors.
Sirius swears to him that he sees some of the paintings shaking, and honestly he canât blame them, heâs practically shivering himself and he had a long-sleeved t-shirt and a jumper on.
He has one singular plan. Sit in front of the fire and stay there until he was sure that all of his organs had defrosted, even if that meant missing dinner. That was a lie, he would definitely leave the embering comfort of the fireplace for dinner.
Now he was thinking about it, he was starving. Maybe he could convince Sirius or Peter to go down to the kitchens early with him to sneak something back up.
Thereâs an almost unanimous sigh of relief as the team walk through the fat ladyâs portrait, like their muscles relax just from seeing the familiar red and gold decor and decide to just give up right then and there.
Itâs a sight to be seen for sure, a majority of the studentâs whoâd taken up the lounge sofas and chairs for the afternoon looking on at the group with raised eyebrows and small muttered chuckles at their collective state.
âHave fun then?â Thereâs a decided smirk on Remusâ face as James and Sirius drag themselves over to the nook that you and him had curled yourselves into over the last few hours, and the two boys share a glance before turning it in your paired direction with a dissatisfied glare of jealousy.
You could not look comfier if you tried, tucked in either corner of one of the long sofas right next to the fire with blankets over your laps and flushed cheeks from the warmth of the room.
James is the one to give up on his seething anger first, practically collapsing himself onto the unoccupied space between you and Remus and flopping over until heâs got his face firmly planted across your knees, a loud defeated groan rumbling from his throat and vibrating through the blanket to meet your skin.
âIâll take that as a noââ You canât help the small chuckle that leaves your mouth at the display, unperturbed by the side eye you gain as James adjusts himself so that he can lie on you without suffocating himself or crushing his glasses.
âI swear my organs were freezing over out there,â
âThatâs a little dramatic,â Remus shakes his head from behind the book propped up against his knees, amused smirk still lining his features.
âIt is not dramatic Moony, we were getting hypothermic out there, seriously,â Sirius gives a tug to Jamesâ legs so that he can sit down with his head over the back of the cushion, and it leaves James sat on the floor as a result.
âOi, first come first servedââ James tugs one of the decorative pillows you have tucked under your arm from you so that he can throw it at Siriusâ head, and it is promptly returned by Sirius with a middle finger and a triumphant look to go with it.
James lets out a sharp scoff of indignation as he rears the pillow for another throw, but its plucked from his, stiff, frozen hands before he has the chance to.
âThatâs enough both of you, we were trying to have a calm afternoon here,â You scold the two with no real malice as you tuck the pillow back into itâs spot underneath your arm, and James sighs heavily as he slings his arms over your legs to rest his chin on top of them.
âItâs not my fault Sirius doesnât understand sofa etiquette,â
âYou were hogging the whole thing,â Sirius scrunches up his face in exasperation, gesturing outwards widely with his hand and almost knocking the book right out of Remusâ lap. âSorry-â
Remus sighs, and the two of you share a glance and a silent shake of your heads.
You loved the boys to death, but my god did they not know the concept of sitting still for more than five minutes.
That point was only further proven as James gets up from the floor to wedge himself between you and Sirius, giving his leg a deft kick in the process for payback as he tried to worm himself in between your side and the back of the sofa.
âJamesââ The movement laves you lost for balance, and you almost tumble right off the edge of the sofa as he invades your spot, one of your legs falling from the seat to brace against the floor.
âWhat? Iâm cold, and youâre right next to the fire,â His invasion continues as he tugs the blanket you have draped over you towards himself until itâs covering his lower body entirely and leaving you half-uncovered.
âYou canât just kick me out of my spotââ You huff, more than a little miffed at being forcibly removed from the position youâd spent almost ten minutes perfectly arranging to make you as comfortable as possible for the afternoon.
âIâm not, Iâm not,â Thereâs a strong grasp around your torso, and then youâre being tugged backwards until your half situated on top of him with your back to his chest. âIâm sharing your spot,â His words are emphasised by his chin landing against your shoulder and his arms encircling your waist like youâre a soft toy a child would take to bed.
It wouldnât be too bad of a position if you couldnât literally feel how cold James was through your clothes, like a human ice pack attached to your back.
âYouâre freezing Jamesââ
âI know,â He takes your words as an affirmation to bury his face against your shoulder, curling up his legs under the blanket and in turn forcing you to do the same. âIâm warming myself up,â
âThe fireâs over there mate,â Remus and Sirius share an incredulous look at the two of you. âSheâs not a heating pad,â
You have half the mind to agree with them, and James can feel the way you nod at the observation, responding with a dissatisfied grumble and his hands pulling up the hem of the jumper youâre wearing to warm his icy extremities against your skin.
âJamesââ The temperature makes you physically jolt, your back shooting up straight and forcing his head from itâs position against your shoulder.
âWhat?â He tugs you back against his chest with false innocence dripping from his vocal chords, his hands using your stomach as his own hot water bottle. âYouâll get used it it, itâll be fine,â
âIt is not fine, your hands are practically ice,â
âI was playing Quidditch in the snow,â He wastes no time in reclaiming his place with his head hidden against the crook of your neck. âOf course they are,â
âUgh, you two make me sick,â Sirius puts his index finger inside his mouth in a mock gagging motion as he shifts to stuff his feet underneath Remusâ thighs in his own attempt at warming up.
âSounds like jealousy to me,â James shrugs, and it jostles you slightly in his arms. âYou donât have to project Pads, we all know youâre sad because Moony wonât give you a cuddle,â
âThat is not true,â Sirius huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, though his gaze turns to Remus nonetheless, and he is immediately met with a shake of Remusâ head. âWhatever,â He scoffs, raking a hand through his curls with an almost unnoticeable pout on his face. âJust get a room already will you? Youâre disturbing everyone with your PDA,â
âWhy donât you just shut your mouth already?â James tilts his head with an annoyingly cocky smile, lifting his face just far enough off your shoulder so Sirius can get a good look at his expression. âI can smell your breath from over here,â
âYou littleââ Sirius rips one of the decorative pillows from underneath Remus to launch it at Jamesâ head, but considering your position as a literal human shield it misses him completely, hitting you square in the face.
âHeyââ Your arms arenât raised quick enough to block his assault, but they do return fire the minute the pillow is in your vicinity.
âSorry sorry,â Sirius is more successful than you at blocking the projectiles pillow, laughing in the process. âCollateral damage, itâs what you get for pairing up with him,â Sirius scrunches up his nose in exaggerated disgust, and James responds by sticking one of his hands out of the blanket to flip him off.
You take the opportunity of Jamesâ loosened grip to slip out of his arms and onto your feet, and his pettiness towards Sirius immediately turns into betrayal towards you. âWhere are you going?â
âSomewhere actually quiet?â You roll your eyes at him in feigned indignation, a small chuckle bubbling in your throat. âI love you guys but you are ruining my cozy afternoon,â
âNo no Iâm sorry I wonât fight with Pads anymore donât leave,â He reaches his arm out to grasp at your wrist, giving it a small tug. âStay câmon, please?â
You raise your eyebrow at him, clearly not believing a single word coming out of the boyâs mouth.
âI promise,â He extends his hand out with his pinky finger raised.
You give him a narrowed gaze, but upon a prompting of his hand as he waved it in your direction you linked your finger with his, and he used it as leverage to pull you right back into his grasp.
âSee? Itâs very cozy,â James ignores the way Sirius rolls his eyes as he shifts you around in his lap until youâre both comfortable.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
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strange perfections
in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!
fluff!
warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz
a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses
The cafĂ© door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruderâa hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf.Â
Stupid scarf, you think.Â
Stupid door.Â
Stupid wind.Â
Your mug is empty, and the table youâre sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought itâd be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. Itâs the third cafĂ© youâve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feelsâŠÂ inconvenient.Â
You look at the stack of papers and sigh.Â
Stupid Lord Byron.Â
Stupid cafe.Â
Usually, cafĂ©s are relatively quiet and peacefulâa refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagersâpresumably playing hookyâwho have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldnât have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly.Â
One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable.Â
Just as youâre gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, itâs accompanied by a particularly strong gust.Â
Strong enough that Lord Byron doesnât stand a chance.Â
Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once.Â
Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky cafĂ©.Â
As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk.Â
Itâs silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You canât even respondâyou look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor.Â
Eventually the boy catches on that youâre not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here.Â
âHereâIâm really sorry about this,â someone saysâa tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up.Â
âIâll live,â you sigh, straightening up. âBut thankâŠÂ you.â
The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. Heâs gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. Heâs the type of man who wouldnât have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldnât now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the cafĂ© and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping heâs looking at you.Â
âOn the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other⊠I feel compelled to say at least theyâre not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?â
You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angularâtheyâre huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown youâve ever seen, and theyâre looking right back at youâand you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that.Â
Think of something normal to say!
âYeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That⊠that donât have page numbers.â
You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.
âUm⊠I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?â
You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?
âThatâs okay. Might be easier with just one person.â
He laughsâitâs similarly awkward, similarly endearing.Â
âDo you mind letting me just⊠try? Itâll only take a minute.â
Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?
But, perhaps because youâre a pushover who canât stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out.Â
âSure. Give it your best shot. Iâll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.â
Heâs already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, âI have Byron memorized. It shouldnât be too difficult.â
You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. Heâs definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles.Â
All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go.Â
Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before heâs tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. Thereâs almost a glow about himâlike he couldnât be more in his comfort zone.Â
âThere you go. Should be in order now.â You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot.Â
âHow did you do that?âÂ
His cheeks turn slightly pink.Â
âI know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.â
âHow did you read that fast?â
âUh. Iâm a speed-reader?â
You scoff, taking another look through the stack.Â
âI think that may be underselling it.â A thought occurs to you as youâre grazing over one of your longer annotationsâfull of expletives and strong opinions. âOh, god. You didnât⊠you didnât read my notes?â
The manâs eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesnât quite know how to break it to you gently.Â
âMaybe a few,â he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. âI appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was⊠colorful.â
Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble.Â
âYeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. Theyâre less cute when thereâs like a fifty percent chance heâs writing about his sister.â
âHalf sister,â he corrects. You give him a look.Â
âDoes that make it better?â
â⊠no,â he realizes. âNot even a little bit.â
You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels.Â
âWell⊠thank you, for the help,â you say after a silent second.Â
âOf course. Sorry, again. I, umâI hope your day gets better?â
âYeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? Itâs kind of a low bar.â
He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize itâs approaching one in the afternoon. If heâd been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself.Â
He was totally in love with me.Â
And he canât prove me wrong because Iâll probably never see him again.Â
All things consideredâthis coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe youâll stick with it for a while.Â
The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days laterâthough youâve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it.Â
I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously youâre not that divorced from reality, but youâll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this cafĂ©.Â
What youâre absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup.Â
âHi,â he says.Â
âHi!â
Jesus! Tone it down, girl scout.Â
He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer.Â
Spencer. Spencer.Â
It feels important.Â
âI see youâve upgraded.â
âYes! Yes, I did,â you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. âThank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it werenât for that, so⊠yeah. Thanks.â
âOf course! Iâm glad I could be of use.â
âSpence!â Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away.Â
Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you.Â
Spence.Â
Reality sets in.Â
âComing!â He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. âUm⊠well⊠Iâll see you?â
Itâs an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly donât care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk.Â
âI am a creature of habit.â
Another wave as he walks away.Â
The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way.Â
âWho was that?âÂ
âUh⊠I donât actually know.â
Yeah. Reality definitely sets in.Â
Over the next few days, you break your cafĂ© streak. Life is busy. Thereâs not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up.Â
Okay, so⊠maybe it has more to do with him than youâre letting on. But youâre not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you donât know and who is way out of your league just because you canât form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldnât be compatible anyway. Heâs probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality.Â
Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.
But you hadnât been lying when youâd proclaimed to be a creature of habitâyou return to the cafĂ© once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character.Â
Heâs there. Of course heâs there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? Itâs not like he was a figment of your imagination.Â
This time heâs accompanied by a different blonde womanâa bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. Sheâs quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if youâre supposed to know her, but certainly youâd remember meeting a person like that. She doesnât seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, whoâs looking between you with an almost panicked expression.Â
âOh! Thââ the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud sheâs being in the otherwise silent establishment. âAh! Okay, right. Never mind.â
 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but youâre baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading.Â
Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more.Â
âGo, go ahead! Itâs more problematic for you to be late than me. Iâll be like, thirty seconds tops.â
You donât look up as Spencer leaves the cafĂ©âbut are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who youâd presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?
While youâre wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table.Â
âHi!â She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin.Â
âUh⊠hi?â
âIâm Penelope. Youâve met my friend Spencer. He just left.â
âOhâsort of,â you smile weakly, closing your book. âNot formally. I didnât know his name.â
Thatâs a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real.Â
âWell, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet youâre a really cool person.â
âUmâthank you!â You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms youâyou didnât think your look was all that interesting today. âYou too. I love your outfit.â
âGreat! Youâreâyouâre great. This is good information. Um⊠just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Ohâand your zodiac sign?â
What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ployâ
âGarcia!â
Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed.Â
Adorable? Get a grip.Â
âWhâIâm just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?â
âThis is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,â he urges.Â
You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?
âItâs fine,â you smile, introducing yourself to her.
âThat is such a good name!â She says, and youâre getting the sense sheâs kind of always this enthusiastic. âSo now we know each otherâs namesâwe should probably definitely be friends, right?â
âYeah! Um, definitely!â
âYes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, umâwe work at Quantico, so, weâre like, 10 minutes awayâbut this is better than the coffee shop thatâs closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually itâs just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.â
âQuantico⊠thatâs the FBI academy, right?â
âOther stuff, too,â she nods, still smiley.Â
Oh! Cool. So theyâre FBI agents.Â
So thatâs cool.Â
Youâre cool with that.Â
Her phone starts ringingâshe locks eyes with Spencer.Â
âHotch?â
âOoh, we are in trouble,â Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. âBye, new friend!â She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers.Â
âBye,â you manage, though itâs probably too quiet.Â
Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again.Â
You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesnât notice. You hope he doesnât read into it.Â
Nah. Boys are dumb.Â
You text Penelope later that afternoonâa simple greeting so that she can save your numberâand then you forget about it.Â
Itâs not until five days go by without sign of any of themâthe two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figureâthat you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?
But of course, just as youâre sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone.Â
He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave youâd come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line.Â
Weird.
You corner him at the coffee bar, where heâs adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?
âHey,â you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. â⊠Spencer, right?â
Itâs comical how youâre pretending you havenât turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it.Â
He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second.Â
âI heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if thatâsâŠâ
âNo, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...â
âToday is operating system update day, so I donât even really have a way of knowing if sheâs alive in her office.â Itâs funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. âSheâs our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.â
âOh⊠does the FBI not have, like⊠an IT guy, or something?â
He laughs againâthe way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless.Â
âYou should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.â
Itâs hard not to smile when heâs smiling because of youâhowever indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize youâve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long.Â
âAlright, well⊠tell her good luck, for me?â
âI would, but Iâve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.â
Your brow furrows and you laugh.Â
âFrom the whole building? You just canât keep your hands off your computer for an hour?â
âNot if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. Iâve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and Iâd rather not be that person again.â
You say it before you can think too hard.Â
âWell, if you have an hour to kill⊠thereâs an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.â
And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid.Â
After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every dayâexcept for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane jobâand sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who youâve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he canât spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice.Â
One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like itâs not happening.
It ceases. And then it starts again.Â
Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentenceâlike he knows youâre about to tell him to be responsible.Â
âDo you think you shouldâŠâ
His hands drop from where theyâd been enthusiastically positioned mid-air.Â
âTheyâll be fine if Iâm late from lunch one time. Iâm usually more punctual than any of them.â
You roll your lip between your teethâitâs not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions youâve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company.Â
But his job is important.Â
âWhat if you have a case?â
âThen I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.â
Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence. Â
âIâm flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I canât with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.â
As the laughter fades, he justâŠÂ watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present.Â
âYouâre probably right,â he finally breathes. âMaybe⊠you should start taking up my other hours, instead?â
Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer.Â
You balk.
âLike⊠we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?â
âThose are the basic premises, yes,â he chuckles, nodding affably. âIâve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.â
âWhere would this hanging out take place?â
Fuck, youâre totally being weird. His brow knits.Â
âI donât know. Where else do people hang out?â
Heâs not genuinely asking you, heâs gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly.Â
âRestaurants.â
Thereâs that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, thereâs a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.
âThatâs certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?â
You look down. God, your face feels warm.Â
âWould you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that weâve constructed, I mean.â
Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now.Â
âI would.âÂ
More panic sets inâjust a bit. But you donât let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted.Â
Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than youâd realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair.Â
âYou donât have to say yes. I know we donât know each other very well, I justââ
âNo!â You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. âI would say yes. Iâve just, umâgod,â you laugh gustily, self-consciously. âSorry Iâm being so weird. Iâm out of my depth. Nobodyâs asked me on a date before. I donât really know the etiquette.â
Spencer chuckles.Â
âYouâre doing great. Donât worry about it.â
Not, what?
Not, youâve never been on a date before?
Not, thatâs crazy, or thatâs weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?
With the implication being, youâre odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way.Â
He says none of that.Â
âBut I should probably actually ask you, huh?â His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards.Â
âSounds like a good first step.â
Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real.Â
âWill you go on a date with me?â
Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencingâyour entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.
âIâd love to.â
He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair.Â
âOh, thank god. I was so nervous youâd say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldnât have said noâit would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights toââ
His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interruptedâbut admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute.Â
âI shouldââ
âYou definitely need to go.â
âYeah,â he agrees with a still-breathless smile. âUmâwhatâs your number?â
You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper.Â
âI donâtââ
âJust tell me. Iâll remember.â
Heâs so weird.Â
A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. Youâre already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go.Â
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just when i thought you couldnât get any more relatable!! dare i say indo-aussies are some of the best around? (i speak from experience)
- aussie!reader eshay anon
Aww this is so sweet !! I've met a lot of indo-aussies and they're also so nice âčïž honestly the places i've been in have been so diverse that i end up just befriending people from all over the world, and it's so much fun !!
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reading head cannons and watching as it switches from best friend! to boyfriend! makes me giggly
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hello why is someone beefing over a fictional character LMFAO and theyâre WRONG too đ LOUD AND WRONG âŒïž
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Hey can I just say that it is *bonkers* to me that your Australian- like in my head you were either like East Asian or like,,, Canadian
idk that's jsut ur vibes
omg no i'm definitely asian !! i'm technically south-east asian (indo-chinese slay) but i am a citizen of australia !! >:D
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