#Spencer reid fluff
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oooh what about a lil blurb about bombshell r and spencer where it's the first time in their relationship that one of them is super sick and the other has to take care of them?? if you're feeling up for it ofc!! love u jade <333
ty for requesting<3<3 fem, 1k
“I’m sicker than a sick dog. I’m half cough.”
Spencer frowns at his phone where it lays on speaker at the breakfast table. “You are? What kind of cough?”
“It’s awful, I can’t tell you. You’ll stop loving me.”
Spencer smiles even though he wants to grimace. He told you he loved you a few days ago, and you hadn’t said it back, but you certainly hadn’t stopped liking him. You’re more obsessed with him than before, he’d argue. It’s a great feeling, almost as good as an I love you in return would’ve been.
(He doesn’t blame you for not saying it. You’ve been officially dating for less than a month. He shouldn’t have said it, only he’d been lying in your bed about to go to sleep with your hand in his and he’d never felt anything like it, not home but safe, not home but comfortable, and so so wanted.)
“I don’t think that’s true,” Spencer says.
“I’m gonna order some soup I think. What are you gonna do today?” Your voice is thick like you can’t breathe through your nose, but still yours.
“I’m gonna put my shoes on and come see you, I guess.”
“Yeah?”
It’s a no brainier. “What soup do you want, Y/N?”
He says your name like a compliment. You laugh down the line, which turns into a cough, and a pained moan. “Any kind of soup, babe. You’re really gonna come and see me?”
“Someone has to take care of you. Ideally me.”
“Too right.”
When Spencer gets to your apartment thirty rushed minutes later, you’re already worse. He knocks on your door and you answer with a hand covering your face, your breath audibly shallow. “I forgot that being sick makes you ugly.”
Spencer takes your wrist in his hand kindly. “Nothing can make you ugly. Come on, let me see.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I!”
You aren’t pretty, you’re stunning. You’re gorgeous. You’ve been the most beautiful woman Spencer’s ever seen since the moment he saw you, not just because of your looks, of which you take great care, but because of your heart, how kind you’d been to him and continue to be. Your confident personality has never once made you cruel. He couldn’t say the same for most people, so you could have snot running down your lips and a zit the size of Quantico on your forehead and he’d still think you were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.
“Come on,” he says again, “I know you’re still beautiful.”
You let him pull your hand down, unveiling your puffy eyes and chapped nose. “I don’t know how I got sick so fast.”
The tote bag he’d brought with him slips into his elbow and pulls down his sweater sleeve as he grabs your shoulder. “You said you looked ugly.”
“I do!”
“All you do is lie.” He gives you a small smile. Am I doing this flirting thing right?
“I wanna kiss you so bad.”
Your audible heartbreak is convincing. “I’ll still kiss you.” His desperation is even more evident than yours. “I’d love to kiss you.” Even if it’s usually you who kisses him.
You close your eyes and lean in for a kiss at the same time. Just one kiss, firm for a millisecond, no parting lips or tongue to be seen but just as good a kiss as any other. Spencer must’ve had about thirty of them now, yet a kiss from you never feels real.
“I’ll look after you if you get sick,” you promise, pulling away.
He was counting on it. He hates germs, hates being sick, but he loves you. Whatever happens is out of his hands.
You seem a little unsteady on your feet, now Spencer’s looking at you. You’re wearing loose white pyjamas with blue flowers, and on your feet you have a pair of shoes somewhere between slippers and boots, brown fabric with fluffy white insides he’s seen you sporting on the jet from time to time when you’re at your most achingly tired.
You look adorable and tipping. He eases out of his shoes, sliding the bag of tinned soup, crackers and about seventy dollars worth of cold medicine onto the sideboard so he can put his hand under your arm.
“Let’s go back to bed,” he says, wrapping you in a supportive hug.
“Forward,” you tease.
You shouldn’t. Spencer thinks about intimacy with you and goes insanely pink everytime, though you’re far from new to one another. He especially doesn’t wanna think about it as you cross your room and flop down into bed with a tired sigh. “Come lay down?”
“I’m wearing jeans.”
“Did you sit down on the subway?”
“No, I drove here.”
“Come on, Spence. Your germs are fine.” You smile at the ceiling as he sits down at the top of your bed. “You drove here? You hate driving.”
“It was quickest.”
You drop your head into his lap. Your breathing is laboured.
“You okay?” he asks you.
“Just missed you.”
“I brought you some stuff. Vapour rub and decongestant spray, painkillers, vitamins, everything.” He leans down as he wraps his arms over your front, a promise to look after you. “Try to take a deep breath, angel,” he advises sympathetically. “You sound really out of breath.”
“Too much standing up.”
“Standing up can be good for you when you’re sick. It stops you from getting idle diseases and bed sores, and walking is even better for you if you can manage it, it helps unclog your sinuses.” He finishes his fact, and he looks down at you all poorly in his lap, remembering very quickly how lucky he is to have found someone who listens. You didn’t interrupt. You wouldn’t have even thought about it, he’s sure. “But no more standing up or walking around. I’m gonna get you anything you need. You’ll be better in no time.”
You give him your own grateful smile. “Thank you.” You scrunch up your nose.
“Are you gonna sneeze? I got balsam tissues.” The damage to your nose has already been done. “Do you have any chapstick? We’ll rub some on your nose to stop it from getting any drier.”
Your wrinkled nose worsens. “Thank you for coming to look after me,” you say weakly.
He wants to say you’re his best friend in the whole world, but you’re more than that now. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly, ducking down to plant a kiss near your eyebrow. “I always want to look after you. This is just the first time you’ve let me.”
You smile contentedly, your voice falling to a whisper. “Will you tell me you love me again?”
Spencer doesn’t think he’s in any position to deny you. “I love you,” he says truthfully. “Thank you for letting me come over.”
You turn your face into his arm. “Thank you for wanting to, handsome.”
#spencer and bombshell reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds
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okayy but sharing clothes with spencer? maybe you’re new into your relationship and you spend the night for the first time, then in the morning he sees you in a sweatshirt of his and 😵💫😵💫
TEEHEEE!!!! (i kinda hate how i wrote this but ehh its cool)
The first time you do it is during the morning after your first night together, you wear one of his old college sweatshirts because his apartment is so cold (and maybee you wanted to be all cute and coupley, but you didn’t hear it from me.)
He freezes as soon as he sees you, immediately turning into a blushing mess because oh my god!! you’re so !!!!! You turn his brain into mush, he is so infatuated it’s not even funny (…it’s a little funny.)
At first you worry that you’ve made him uncomfortable, his face so red he looks like he’s about to pass out. But then he’s crowding into your space to kiss you, mumbling a “you look nice..” against your lips and Oh. That’s what this is.
And after that, he grants you full, complete access to his closet! You thought it was impossible for him to get clingier and touchier, but he somehows manages to everytime you wear his clothes.
Sometimes you’ll mess with him and wear a jacket of his to work, one that’s basic enough that no one else can tell. But he knows and it effectively ruins his ability to focus whenever you’re in the room, he hates (loves) it.
Maybe it’s just knowing that they’re his, but everything he owns is so comfortable and soft! He likes to wear them after you do because then they smell like you :( he’s down badd.
masterlist | inbox ♡
taglist - @lover-of-books-and-tea @maskysluvr @aurorsworld @wisteriaspencer @radioactiveinvisible @mandarinmoons @spencereidapologist @lyd14k4y @luvkatryna (send an ask or message to be added/removed!)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#spencer x reader#spencer reid fluff#x reader#reid x reader
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Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)
hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo
warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy
18+ (smut)
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Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes.
So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening.
“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip.
“Hm?”
“Don’t fall asleep.”
He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed.
“Why not?”
“’Cause I want you to be awake.”
“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”
You pout as if he can see you.
“But I like playing with your hair.”
Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks.
“One or the other. You can’t have both.”
“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”
The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment.
“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”
“What?”
It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes.
“What what?”
“You didn’t consult me!”
The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead.
“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”
“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”
“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”
“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”
“Your birthday’s not even—”
“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”
He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling.
“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”
“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face. “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”
You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair.
“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”
He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously.
“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”
“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone.
“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes.
For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss.
“Feels good?”
“Mhm,” you breathe.
“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”
“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.
“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”
You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating.
A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily.
His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them.
“Relax. I’ll come to you.”
You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch.
“Fuck,” you pant against his lips.
“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills.
“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”
Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you.
“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”
“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”
The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already.
“I bet you think that’s true.”
“It is!” you whine.
“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”
“That did not happen.”
“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”
You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin.
“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying.
“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom.
Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you.
“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”
It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off.
Maybe even especially then.
The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth.
You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out.
Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp.
“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”
He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.
The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic.
When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit.
But he likes those ones just fine, too.
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”
The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more.
At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back.
“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”
But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon.
“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation.
You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense.
Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name.
“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.
Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system.
“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”
He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again.
“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek.
“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”
You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin.
“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”
“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows.
“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”
“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”
“For what?” He snorts.
You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once.
“Handles! Duh!”
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fic
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Hold Me Close
okay so i've been in this situation, but it played out very differently. I just want to in some way experience it in a nicer way than i actually did.
She doesn't want a baby. Spencer comforts her through a pregnancy scare
When he was younger, Spencer Reid hadn't wanted kids. His own childhood hadn't been the best (not through the faults of his mother, Spencer loved her more than anything in the world), and he wasn't confident in his ability to look after a child.
But then JJ had Henry. Spencer had been, admittedly, freaked out by her pregnancy. But then he met Henry, the sweetest little bundle of flesh out there.
And then JJ had Michael and Morgan had his child. Spencer really could see himself coming around to the idea.
The only problem was finding somebody, somebody he loved, somebody he wanted to have a child with.
Spencer never expected to meet her after his stint in prison. He was damn near forty. And she was significantly younger, only in her twenties. Spencer had resisted. for the longest time he had resisted. But she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
It didn't take long for them to collide, lips and tongue and teeth clashing together in a way the others didn't expect from their resident genius.
Spencer was full of regret after the first time. He remembered being her age, remembered all of the things he'd gone through at that age. And, to him, that was a lifetime ago. He'd completed countless cases, saved countless lives.
But she was patient with him. She stayed by his side, she took care of him in a way Spencer hadn't expected. It was hard not to fall in love.
Spencer knew she was young, knew that, where he might have been ready for a child, there was a chance she wasn't after a year together, after a year of being careful when they had sex, a year of wearing condoms and taking birth control, they had their first pregnancy scare.
She hadn't felt right for weeks, tried to convince herself it was just a stomach bug. But there was that feeling in the back of her mind, the one that told her she needed to take a test.
So, while she was cuddled up against Spencer, hands clutching her stomach as he read, she looked up at him. "Spence," she squeaked, and he tightened his arm around her.
The way she asked him to walk to the store with her, he'd never heard her sound so vulnerable before. Spencer couldn't say no to her if he tried. He held her hand the entire time, as they picked up the box of tests, as he paid for them.
And as soon took one, as she peed on the stick and set it down, he waited with her. She sat on the closed toilet lid and Spencer sat on the edge of the bathtub.
He couldn't help but watch the way she she hugged herself, eyes cast downwards as she waited for the results.
"C'mere," Spencer whispered and opened his arms.
Immediately she sat beside him and tucked herself into his side. "I'm sorry," she said as fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
Spencer kissed the top of her head. "You have nothing to he sorry about," he whispered, lips still against her hair. "What... what do you want to do if it's positive?"
It wasn't something they'd discussed before. Spencer knew he was ready for children, but she was so much younger, and she hadn't spoken to him about it before.
She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut as she buried her face against his chest. "I can't, Spencer," she cried. "I can't keep it."
"Okay," he said and rubbed her back soothingly.
After the seven minutes they checked the test. Negative. She was so happy she could have cried. "Thank God," she whispered and threw the negative test away.
It had taken it all out of her. With a hand on the small of her back, Spencer guided her back to the bed. He held her until she fell asleep, reading to her.
#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x reader#matthew gray gubler
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HI LOVE UR WORK ESPECIALLY COLD READER IVE BEEN BINGING THEM AND I NEED MOREE
Soo speaking of i think prompt 15 could be a really cute cold reader prompt for something and I WOULD LOVE IT
HOMETOWN [CLIMACTERIC]
/ˌhəʊmˈtaʊn/
15. “I can’t believe you remembered.”
WARNINGS: fem!reader, mentions of spencer’s bullying, made up childhood bully (sorry spence <3), swearing as per, typical cold!reader antics
spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 3.0k || event masterlist!!
main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!
a/n: great minds think alike huh? the fact that both these requests specified for it to be cold!reader as well is insane to me 😭😭
There’s that saying that the worst people in school always end up going into jobs that provide for others; The idea that petty school bullies take up careers in hospitality or community service despite all of their obvious social flaws.
Honestly, Spencer always found the idea ridiculous. They had just as much of a chance as going into a hospitality job as they did a 9-5 office job.
Their attitude didn’t have any causational impact on their future career whatsoever, people just focused on the people that did end up in those fields and then generalised it to the larger population with no reasonable backing.
But he’d be lying if that wasn’t the first thing that ran through his head when he walked into station 14 of the LVMPD and ran right into somebody from his middle school.
Somebody who fit that god awful false idea to a T.
“We’ll get you set up asap, Robinson, DeGaris, show the agents to 22B will you?”
Spencer knew the second he turned around. Some people’s faces never really mature through puberty. The bone structure doesn’t change and they just end up looking like a taller version of their child self.
“Would you look at that? Looks like we’ve made it to the big leagues,” Officer DeGaris nudges his partner with a raise of his eyebrows, and Robinson shakes his head with a short laugh in response.
“More like we’re doing such a bad job they had to call in the big leagues,” Robinson pushes DeGaris’ head away with the palm of his hand before clasping his fists together at his waist. “Welcome to Las Vegas, land of casinos, neon signs, and… serial killers apparently— Uh I’m Caleb, this is Will, chances are you’ll see a lot of us over the next however long you’re here,”
“Pleasure,” Hotch holds out his hand to shake the two officers’, who promptly move to shake hands with the rest of the team afterwards.
By the time the two reach you and Spencer stood at the back of the group he feels like he might throw up his heart from how fast it was beating, and he swerves the shakes with all the awkwardness of his usual evasions as he excuses himself to walk ahead of the team.
It was stupid really. It had been almost two decades since what had happened, yet even just being in his proximity was making Spencer sweat like he was a final girl in a horror movie.
“Excuse us,” Your words hold no social grace as you slide past the two officers to follow after Spencer. He wasn’t the best with meeting new people, but he never left the conversation before it could even start. “Reid-”
Although mildly confused, the two officers don’t seem all that disheartened as the two of you disappear into the meeting room, their attention turning back to the rest of your team.
“Well,” Caleb claps his hands together with a politely awkward smile. “We’ll let you guys get settled in, if you need anything at all come and find one of us and we’ll do our best to get it for you,” He gestures between himself and Will stood next to him, gazing half-blankly into the open shutters of the window into the room with furrowed eyebrows at yourself and Spencer like he’s trying to put puzzle pieces together in his mind.
“Thank you officer, we will,” Hotch gives the two a small nod before gesturing the team into the room and leaving the two policemen outside.
—
At least the station had a coffee machine. Spencer’s one saving grace in the fact that he was not only working on a case in his own home city but also in the same town he grew up in, a town with some very familiar faces.
The scent of the caffeinated beverage was enough to bring him back to his right mind a little as it hit the ceramic mug with a burst of steam, and Spencer watched the liquid flow aimlessly as he waited for his drink to be made.
Coffee solved all his problems.
“Hey,”
Most of the time.
With a slow breath and his eyes shut to compose himself, Spencer turned around slowly to greet the voice, hit lips pressed into a straight line as his eyes opened once more, greeted with an all too familiar sight.
“I thought I recognised you Spencer, or sorry, it’s Agent Reid now right?” Will raised an eyebrow slightly, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
There was no real malice behind his tone, no sarcasm or taunting, no twitch in his facial expression that could make Spencer think he was trying to get under his skin. But he did. And it made Spencer feel like a 9 year old all over again.
“It’s uh, Doctor Reid actually,”
Will gives a short laugh and a nod, like Spencer’s title was something he’d expected. “Right, right, of course, so you’re not an FBI Agent then?”
“I am,” Spencer answers shortly, hands wringing together behind his back as he leans against the kitchenette counter. “But the title of Doctor outranks the title of Agent,”
He could see that familiar glint in Will’s eye as he explained the reasoning behind his official title, like he was looking at some puny know-it-all rather than a person of his own age.
“Very impressive,” Will gives him a slow, almost animated nod, and Spencer has never been more grateful for the shrill beeping of an automated coffee machine as he tears his eyes from Will to pick up his mug, cradling it between his to hands.
“Well, it was uh, good— to see you again Billy I’m glad you got where you wanted to go in life—“
“I don’t go by that name anymore,” Will crossed his arms over his chest with a shake of his head, his expression cordial despite the way his fists clenched like the mae had caused physical discomfort to him. “I go by Will now.”
“Right, Will, I should get back to my team now,”
“I’m sure they can wait a few minutes, we should catch up, for old time’s sake,”
—
“Where is Reid?” You exhale exasperatedly, biting your tongue to keep yourself in check as you turn towards Morgan and Emily with a show of your hands.
“Maybe the coffee machine was broken,” Emily shrugs nonchalantly as she sorts through the scene photos, occasionally passing one over the table towards you to hang up on the board.
“As if I needed any more reasons to hate those pieces of shit,” You groan exaggeratedly, dragging your hand down your face.
“Calm down lover, being away from the pretty boy for an extra few minutes won’t kill you,” Morgan rolls his eyes at your attitude with a short laugh, tapping his fingers against the table.
“Oh shut your mouth,” You scoff as you walk down the length of the table, pushing the heel of your hand against Morgan’s temple as you pass him as an extra form of chastisation which he promptly laughs at you for as you leave the room in search of Spencer.
“Oh to be young and in love,” Morgan laughs to himself as he clasps his hands together, leaning his head backwards over the chair to look at Emily with a knowing look.
“$50 on less than a year,” Emily doesn’t even look up at her proposition, and Morgan laughs with a shake of his head.
“Oh no no, they’re playing the long game, it’ll be at least another two,”
“Deal,” Emily holds her right hand out in Morgan’s direction, and he grasps it in his own with a firm shake.
“Deal.”
—
Spencer is still standing by the coffee machine, a steaming mug in his hands. It does not take eight minutes to make a single cup of coffee.
Well it wouldn’t if he wasn’t stood talking to one of the local police officers.
More like the officer was talking at him.
And if the way he was fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve was any indication, he was not enjoying the conversation.
If it weren’t for the harsh fluorescent lighting, the furrow of his eyebrows would be imperceptible from where you were standing, but the way he rolls his ankles and shifts his weight onto the balls of his feet would be noticeable from a mile away even in pitch black darkness.
Time to go and save Spencer Reid from his own social ineptitude. Again.
He doesn’t acknowledge you as you approach despite you clearly being in his eye line, his sole focus on the man in front of him even as you near close enough to be able to hear their conversation.
“…were quite the character weren’t you Pick?”
Spencer purses his lips together uncomfortably at the nickname, and you take the break in the conversation as an invitation to get between the two.
You clear your throat with crossed arms, eyes flickering between the two of them as they turn their attention away from each other and towards you instead.
“You’re needed back in the meeting room,”
Spencer nods at you a little too eagerly, clearly ready to rid himself of his new companion. “Right, good bye Bil- Will, sorry,” He doesn’t make eye contact with the officer as he all but power walks past you to head towards the meeting room, and your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as your glance wanders from Spencer to the almost smug expression on the officer’s face.
“Is something funny?” Your question is enough to bring Will’s eyes away from watching Spencer scurry off with his tail between his legs and towards you with horribly feigned innocence.
The look in your eyes is less than savoury, and it’s enough that small glimpse of condescension simmers in his irises to break through his pleasant facade.
You don’t stick around to have to speak to him any further, and with a final look over you leave him by the coffee machine to rejoin the team in the meeting room.
—
“You can’t avoid him forever you know,”
Your voice stirs Spencer out of his focus, and he straightens himself up in his chair as he looks at you, an eyebrow raised in confusion.
You hadn’t really said anything since you re-entered the meeting room, not even bothering to defend yourself against Morgan’s musings about how much you were complaining about Spencer not being present to help you with the profiles, yet less than a minute after Morgan and Emily left, your conversational battery had suddenly returned.
“I— What do you mean?”
“Officer DeGaris,”
Spencer looks at you like you’ve read his diary without his permission.
He forgets just how observant you are sometimes, how easy it seems to be for you to distinguish between Spencer’s general dislike for small talk and meeting new people and when his discomfort is specifically aimed.
You look through the meeting room’s glass window with roaming eyes, Spencer presumes it’s to find the Officer in question. “He acts like a glorified man-child so I can’t blame you for resenting him,”
“Did he say something to you?” He sounds almost afraid at the idea that Will might’ve said something distasteful to you, his face scrunching up in concern, but you dispel the thought with a quick shake of your head.
“No, he didn’t say anything to me,” Spencer can physically see the moment that your eyes catch on Will across the station in the way that your micro expressions change, the way your arms cross tighter over your chest and your nostrils flare. “He was more than distasteful to you though,”
You sigh in mild frustration. “You’d think that people would mature once they reach adulthood, but there’s always a few that cling to their childhood relevancy like their life depends on it. Pathetic really,”
he doesn’t know whether he should even be entitled to being surprised that you knew Will was character from his childhood. It doesn’t stop him. “I never said I knew him when I was a child,”
“He called you Pick, and you called him Billy,” You deadpan like it’s obvious. “You’re not exactly hiding it,”
“I can’t believe you remembered that,” You can see the genuine befuddlement in Spencer’s expression as you relay the cluing details into his past, like he seemingly can’t comprehend that you were actually paying attention and storing Spencer’s divulgence into his childhood in your memories.
“Believe it or not Reid, I do actually listen,” You sound almost offended at how surprised Spencer seems, and he back tracks immediately with a surrendering wave of his hands.
“That’s not— I didn’t mean to insinuate that, I just meant—” Spencer sighs exasperatedly at his failure to string together a coherent sentence. “I only mentioned it offhandedly is all, it’s not something people usually dwell on,”
“It’s not difficult to listen when someone confides in you Reid, it’s basic human compassion,” You move away from the window with a start, stopping just shy of the door right as it opens.
“Can we help you?” The small amount of empathy in your tone vanishes immediately as you meet Will’s eyes, your head cocked in obvious impatience despite the fact that he hasn’t even spoken a word to you yet.
And although mildly deterred by your expression, he follows through nonetheless. “I need to speak to— Agent Reid, it’s something about the case.”
You’d wager it’s definitely not about the case.
“Doctor Reid is busy, if you have something important go and find SSA Hotchner,”
Spencer can’t see your expression as you stand with your back to him, but if he had to make a guess based off of the way that Will’s face falters he’d say you were probably glaring at him. That signature glare that you never hesitated to utilise when deemed a necessary reaction.
He’s half glad he can’t see your face, because it means that you can’t see his, and the way his cheeks redden against his will at not only your intervention between him having to have another conversation with one of the nightmares of his childhood, but also how casual you were in correcting his use of Spencer’s official title.
“I can’t find SSA Hotchner,” He responds like he’s got you beat, but you barely so much as acknowledge it at all.
“Email him then, your chief supervisor has the details.” You take a small step forward to motivate him to step backwards out of the doorway, and you uncross your arms only to grasp the edge of the door. “Now if you’d please excuse us, we do our best work without distractions.”
You don’t give him time to reply before you close on him, but there’s just enough time for Spencer to see the astonishment dawn on Will’s face at your dismissal before he’s shut out completely.
Your frustration is still present on your face as you turn to walk back over to the whiteboard, and Spencer presses his lips together in an awkwardly endearing fashion before muttering out a soft “thank you,” in your direction.
“I don’t tolerate bullies Reid, it’s nothing to be thankful for,” You shake your head to dismiss him, a much lighter—much friendlier— dismissal than you’d awarded Will.
”You didn’t have to do that though,” Spencer sighs softly, playing with the sleeves of his sweater. “Let me buy you a coffee at least? There’s a cafe a few minutes away from here that I used to go to when I was younger, and I think I need the break,”
You can’t really blame his sudden want for fresh air, and you’d rather not slave away on the profile without him to filter your thoughts through, so you don’t really have much option but to join him.
“It’s not one of those ridiculously expensive coffee places is it?” You raise your eyebrow at him warningly and Spencer shakes his head with a soft laugh, one your happy to hear as a sign that Will hadn’t knocked him off his game too much.
“No no, last time I was here it was $3.49 a cup, perfectly normal,” He brushes a strand of hair from his eye with a small smile. “So you’ll join me?”
You let out a small exhale and a shrug of your shoulders, and Spencer knows that you’re feigning more begrudgement than you’re feeling. “I guess I could do with a break,”
Spencer’s smile seems to get just that little bit brighter at your response.
“But I’m buying my own coffee.”
“Okay—” Spencer gives you a small nod, joined by a laugh, and you wait until he’s got his back to you before letting a small smile invade your mouth at the sight.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fluff#mgg#climacteric 🪶
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now playing…MY BOY ONLY BREAKS HIS FAVORITE TOYS (spencer reid)
summary: words get spoken on a night out with a team, things don’t go as planned as a realization dawned upon spencer.
genre: fluff/angst
cw!: alcohol, public humiliation kinda
a/n: i rlly struggled with this one guys, i like how it came out even if it’s not entirely the same as the song.<3 masterlist
anyone that saw spencer right now could tell he was absolutely and irrevocably in love with you.
his puppy dog eyes traced the exposed skin of your collarbones, eyes slyly exploring your silhouette. his gaze landing on your face, your mesmerizing eyes. he glanced at your lips and thought about how sweet the lipgloss you were wearing would taste.
he tried to conceal the smile that was stretching across his face, putting all his efforts in averting his eyes from you. which was probably the most difficult thing he had done ever (…)
you were invited to go out with the team, by penelope. spencer giddily awaited your arrival. glancing over at the bar entrance every time a person came in, his heart racing when he saw someone enter. only to be disappointed when he saw that the person was, in fact, not you.
yet another opening of the door could be heard, and spencer turned his head lazily. slightly dazed from the few drinks he had. his eyes practically doubled in size as he saw you walking in. you looked around a few times before setting your gaze to the group of friends stood by a table. your smile was contagious. by the time you arrived at the table, spencer’s cheeks hurt.
“hey, pretty boy’s been waiting for you all night” derek grinned. spencer shot him a glare.
“no i have not!-“ he stuttered, foolishly struggling to look at you in the eyes, though he really, really wanted to.
you smiled, rolling your eyes at derek’s play fighting with spencer.
“okay okay, who’s getting drinks with me?” you laughed, looking at spencer specifically. he smiled like a kid who just received a new shiny toy, glancing up at you with a bewitched smile.
“i’ll go” spencer spoke, his tone lacking confidence. following you like a lost pup, a soft smile still plastered on his face.
“hey looks like the genius is finally makin’ a move”
“go get her tiger!”
collective catcalls and words of encouragement toward spencer were heard from the table, voices becoming more faint as spencer and you went deeper into the crowd.
“assholes” you laughed, making the air immediately lighter. a trait that spencer admired, amongst many others.
“huh? oh! yeah ignore them, they’re- stupid…” he stumbled over his words, coming out faster than his brain could think. it’s funny how his IQ of 187 could easily be sliced in half when being met with you.
you laughed, nodding in agreement.
“so, what’re you having?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. you noticed how pretty spencer’s featured looked, illuminated by the dim light, accentuating the carvings of his cheekbones.
“i’ve already had something, i don’t drink much” he said quietly, afflicted by the fact that he just turned down your offer.
“but whatever you drink, it’s on me” he looks up, a smile in his voice as he sees a grin form on your face.
“really? you don’t have to do that” you laugh, looking down. you are incredibly thankful for the lights in the bar being to dim, or else you’d have no chance at hiding the tint that was creeping up your cheeks.
“yeah yeah it’s fine, really, it’s on me” he say’s chivalrously. you nod, kissing his cheek lightly and muttering a ‘thank you’ before smiling and leaning on the counter to order.
spencer swore to god his heart stopped. he blinked a few times with wide eyes to make sure it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. a lingering effect of his intoxication. no, it was real.
you sipped on a martini, nodding to spencer for him to follow you back to the table, where emily and jj were dancing not very far away (and definitely not very far apart) penelope was flirting with derek, and rossi and hotch were doing typical rossi and hotch things.
your face twisted in confusion as the team diverted their attention to reid, looking at him with a mix of pride from morgan, and wonder from the rest of the team.
“you got something there pretty boy” derek pointed to his cheek. spencer rubbed the side of his face, being met with a slightly red stained hand.
you covered your mouth, a laugh threatening to come out.
“sorry spence” was all your could muster without giggling. Spencer looked terrified, a slight pink tint painting his face.
the whole team broke out in laughter, friendly heat of course. but spencer didn’t seem to enjoy the little scene he’d made, he turned and started walking swiftly toward the bar. you tried chasing after him, after realizing he was the only one not laughing. but it was too late as he disappeared into the crowd of drunk dancing people.
you sighed, turning towards the team.
“guys.” you looked at them with a warning expression as their laughter slowly faded. you skipped to were you thought spencer would be. finding him sat at the bar with a glass of water, and his chin resting on his hand
“hey…sorry about that” you said, sitting next to him. closer than usual.
“it’s fine” he gave you a tight lipped smile, clearing his throat and avoiding your eyes. your heart ached, knowing the embarrassment you had probably caused him, and knowing his history with public humiliation. even if they were his friends, it was still wrong.
you reached and placed your hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. you felt him tense underneath your touch.
“i’m sorry, really. i didn’t know you had the lipstick and-“ spencer interrupted you , which took you by surprise.
“it’s not that y/n, do you not understand? you are selfish. do you like making fun of me melting under you? do you actually like me or is it just fun to just watch me.” his words were fast and sharp. your brows furrowed and tears pricked your waterline. spencer’s eyes widened after he realized the full blown confession slash burst he just had.
you were his best friend, he trusted you with his life and viceversa. and he was making you cry, all because of his frustration with himself. his love life was not your problem.
“y/n, i didn’t mean it, i- i’m sorry i-“ he stuttered nervously, desperately wishing to reach for your face and wipe the first tear that fell.
“no its fine” you spoke, quietly, so your voice was less doomed to breaking. not only did his harsh words sting, it was incredibly heartbreaking to realize what you had been doing, and how it affected him.
you decided to walk out of the bar, spencer heading after you. the cold air hit your face, shivering at the sudden contact with your skin.
“please- y/n” spencer pleaded. barging out the bar chasing after you.
“spencer, i get it, i’m sorry” you yelled, a bit more loudly than you’d like. you felt frustrated at the fact that he thought you were simply making fun of him. he was your person, quiet console in the middle of the night, there when you most needed him. of course you inevitably fell stupidly in love with him.
“i don’t do any of those things to hurt you. i would never do anything to hurt you, and spencer, i’m so sorry if i did. i’m in love with you. and not just in a best friend way, in a way in which i want my bed to feel empty when you’re not there, i want to be able to kiss you and say how gorgeous you are in any given moment. and- i’m sorry if you don’t feel the same but i-“ you sighed, exasperated and out of breath from the drunken confession.
a minute passed and it felt more like eternity as you awaited for his response, or at least a sign of rejection or approval, anything.
“well, say something!” you threw your hands up in the air, breathing out.
spencer’s mouth opened to talk but nothing came out. he was still coming to terms with your reciprocated feelings toward him. and then his mind began to spiral, it all went downhill from there.
his palms began to sweat despite the cold breeze that sent shivers down your spine.
“i’m in love with you too. i love you, and i have for quite some time” he spoke too calmly, as if he was warning you about what was to come next.
“but we can’t be together. not right now. not with me.” he spoke crudely, trying to distance himself from you, hesitation coursing through his veins. he couldn’t blame the alcohol this time after the confession sobered him up. he was scared, but the terror that came from the idea of losing you because of him? no. even if you were eternally infuriated with him, at least you weren’t in front of him with a gun to your head.
you swallow a lump in your throat, making it hard to speak, hard to breathe.
“but, why?” you ask, awaiting for a worthy response that justified the worst sentence he could’ve ever uttered: ‘we can’t be together’.
“we can’t. it’s too difficult, my job is too difficult.” he had placed an invisible barrier between the two of you. refusing to look at you, and the damage he’d done.
‘There was danger in the heat of my touch
He saw forever so he smashed it up’
“but-“ you were rudely interrupted by the sound of the bar door opening, presenting a very drunken group of people. who just so happened to be your friends, watching you and spencer have this tense conversation, or at least the aftermath of it.
you closed your eyes for a few seconds, trying to regain your composure. spencer and hotch were the designated drivers. you decided to head home in the car where the driver wasn’t the guy you had just confessed to and had given you a pathetic response. you could see spencer look at you as you got into the car, a puzzling expression hard to decode on his face.
‘my boy only breaks his favorite toys.’
as you headed home, the quiet voice ringed in the back of your head, threatening to call him. for you to insist on a worthy response, an explanation to his unwillingness. instead you just laid in bed, your covers acting as a shield to everything in the exterior that could hurt you. you still wished that your bed felt empty. and that spencer would be the missing piece.
‘and I'll tell you that he runs
because he loves me.
cause you should've seen him, when he first saw me.’
taglist: @ilovesadiesink @sp3ncelle
*comment to be added!*
#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds fic
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Idea for fic: enemies to lovers Dom older Spencer and f reader with age gap can’t stand eachother at work and then away on a case they get paired up to be in a room and there’s one bed anyways reader goes and showers and comes out wearing nothing but her bra and panties since she left her tank top the bed and Spencer is shocked and teases her all night and thennnnn rest is history😏
A/N: has this been sat in my inbox for over 3 months? Yes. I hope this makes up for the wait, sorry it tool awhile :( but I did see it when it was first asked, but I’ve been dealing with a lot in the past few months, and I’ve been dealing with some writers block. But I hope you guys enjoy it :)
Summary: Basically what ANON asked for. Spencer and reader hate each other, but Emily has a plan that could resolve all the issues or make them worse.
Content: Fem!reader. Dom!Reid/Sub!reader. Use of Y/N. Spanking. Degradation kink. Praise Kink. Power imbalance kink (kind off). Use of sir, slut, good girl and sweetheart. PinV/creampie. No mentions of contraception. No mentions of aftercare.
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
You and Spencer hated each other. Maybe it’s because Spencer felt genuine competition from you, or maybe it was because you seemed to effortlessly outshine him in everything you did. And well you hated him, because every time Spencer walked into a room, he carried with him an air of superiority that grated against your nerves. You could see the jealousy in his eyes whenever someone praised your work or complimented your achievements.
Everyone had grown tired of the way you both acted around here. Emily would often call you both into her office to yell, “You are two of the best agents. Two brilliant minds. And yet no one can stand to be in the same room as you two.”
You both sat in Emily's office, the tension thick between you. Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact with you as Emily’s words hung heavily in the air. You couldn't deny the truth in Emily's words - your rivalry with Spencer had reached a breaking point, affecting not only your own work but the entire team dynamic.
Emily heaved a sigh, running a hand through her hair before continuing, "This behaviour ends now. I'm not going to tolerate this any longer. I need you two to figure out a way to work together, or I will have no choice but to reassign one of you."
*
“Oh, my god. Reid, do you ever shut up?” you muttered under your breath, unable to hide your irritation at Spencer's endless rambling.
Spencer shot you a glare, his frustration evident in the way his jaw tensed. "At least I have something worthwhile to say, unlike you," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Oh, please. Your so-called facts and statistics don't mean anything in the field. It's called real-life experience, something you clearly lack."
“Lacking real-life experience? Really?” Spencer paused, his voice fuelled with anger “I am older than you, and I have experienced things you wouldn’t even believe.”
Spencer's outburst surprised you, the raw emotion in his voice catching you off guard.
“Whatever you say, Dr Reid. From now on I’ll just worship the ground you walk on, shall I?” you retorted, trying to mask your unease with a casual tone. Inside, you felt a twinge of admiration for his ability to get under your skin so easily.
Emily glared at you both from across the room, she knew she had to put an end to this, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to do that.
Spencer's nostrils flared with indignation at your remark, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and frustration. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, Emily's stern voice cut through the tension like a knife.
"That's enough!" Emily's command was sharp, her gaze piercing. "I've had it with this childish bickering between you two. This behaviour is unprofessional and completely unacceptable."
You both fell silent under Emily's unwavering stare, guilt creeping into your conscience as her words echoed in the room. The weight of her disappointment hung heavy in the air, suffocating the animosity between you and Spencer.
"I don't care who started it or whose ego is hurt more," Emily continued, her tone firm. "What I care about is that you two find a way to work together effectively. The team's safety and success depend on it."
*
Emily was sick and tired of how the both of you acted, and she knew she needed to act fast. She didn’t want to lose either of you, but she also couldn’t let things carry on. So, she devised a plan, one that could go horribly wrong or one that could go perfectly.
*
“Hey, everybody.” Emily’s voice echoed through the jet, “the hotel we are staying at doesn’t have enough rooms for us all to have our own.” She paused for a brief second, she didn’t want anyone to catch on to her, “so, Rossi and I will have our own room. Tara and JJ, you’ll share, Luke and Matt you’ll share and erm… Y/N and Reid you guys will also be sharing.”
You exchanged a wary glance with Spencer as Emily assigned you to share a room. “Emily, I’m sorry. But what is this? You expect me to share a room with Reid? Also assigning us rooms, what are we like thirteen or something?” you scoffed, the incredulity evident in your voice. Spencer's expression mirrored your own disbelief, his eyes widening in surprise at Emily's unexpected announcement.
Emily raised an eyebrow at your protest, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, I expect you two to share a room. It's high time you both learn to work together and put your differences aside. Consider this a team-building exercise," she stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.
You opened your mouth to protest further, but Emily's steely glare silenced any objections before they could form.
*
“Seriously, one bed. Is she serious. I hate her, just as much as I hate you.” you spat out, glaring at Spencer as you both entered the hotel room assigned to you. The tension between you was palpable, suffocating the space as you stood on opposite sides of the room. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of Spencer's exasperated sigh.
"Believe me, the feeling is mutual," Spencer shot back, his tone laced with irritation as he surveyed the small room. The single queen-sized bed in the centre of the room seemed to mock your predicament, a constant reminder of the forced proximity between you.
“Because, unlike you, I’m nice. You can have the bed, as long as I can shower first.” You retorted, determined not to back down in this battle of wills. Spencer's jaw clenched at your words, a muscle ticking in his temple as he fought to keep his composure.
"Fine. Just make it quick," Spencer replied through gritted teeth, his pride wounded by the concession.
Before you headed towards the shower, you started to unpack, you hated keeping everything in your bag when you were in the hotel room. Once, you had finished you grabbed your essentials and headed towards the bathroom without so much as muttering a word to Spencer.
Spencer watched as you disappeared into the bathroom, the click of the door echoing in the tense silence of the room. Alone now, he took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. The mere thought of sharing a room with you made his skin crawl, but he knew Emily's intentions were well-meaning, if not a little misguided.
The rush of the warm water against your skin did little to soothe the simmering frustration that lingered within you. As the steam filled the bathroom, you tried to shake off the tension that had built up between you and Spencer. But every time you closed your eyes, his infuriating presence seemed to seep through the cracks of your composure.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” As you looked at the pile of clothes you had in the bathroom, you realised you hadn’t brought in your PJs, and all you had was a pair of panties and a bra. You were too embarrassed to ask Spencer to bring you the rest of your clothes.
You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options, but you weren’t going to be admitting defeat anytime soon, and maybe some part of you wanted to flaunt to Spencer something he could never have.
You dried yourself off and stepped out of the bathroom in just your underwear. Spencer’s eyes widened in disbelief as you emerged from the bathroom clad only in your underwear, the audacity of your actions catching him off guard. His cheeks flushed with a deep crimson hue, his gaze darting away as if to shield himself from the unexpected sight before him.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Spencer’s voice wavered slightly, a mix of shock and embarrassment colouring his tone. He struggled to maintain eye contact, opting instead to focus on a random spot on the wall.
You couldn’t help but smirk at his discomfort, a sense of satisfaction blooming within you at having turned the tables on Spencer for once. The power shift in the room was palpable, the tension crackling between you in a different way now.
“Just grabbing my clothes,” you stated nonchalantly, making no move to cover up as you retrieved your pyjamas. “Do you like what you see, Spencer?”
Spencer's cheeks burned hotter at your teasing words, his jaw clenching in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. He struggled to find the right response, his mind racing to come up with a comeback that would regain the upper hand in this unexpected exchange.
"Very funny," Spencer finally managed to choke out, his tone strained as he averted his gaze, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing how flustered you had made him.
“You know the way you’re acting right now, Y/N, isn’t of someone who hates me.” Spencer teased through gritted teeth, his attempt at levity falling flat in the charged atmosphere of the room. Your smirk faltered for a split second at his remark, a flicker of something unidentifiable crossing your features before you regained your composure, your mask slipping back into place.
"Let's get one thing straight, Spencer," you retorted, your tone firm as you met his gaze head-on. "Just because I'm not actively trying to strangle you right now doesn't mean I don't still think you're insufferable." The underlying tension between you simmered beneath the surface, waiting to reignite at the slightest provocation.
Spencer raised an eyebrow at your response, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. “Or you’re not actively strangling me, because you’d rather I’d be doing that to you.” Spencer paused, the words hanging in the charged air between you. His attempt at humour fell flat, the gravity of the situation pulling at the corners of his smile.
“What? No. What?” It was your turn to be embarrassed now as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at Spencer's unexpected remark.
“Oh, so I’m right. You do like the idea of me choking you.” Spencer paused, his eyes widening in realization at the slip of his words. The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension between you both reaching a new peak as his inadvertent confession hung in the air, heavy and loaded with unspoken implications.
You swallowed hard, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. Spencer's gaze bore into yours, searching for a reaction, for any sign of the impact his words had made. And in that charged moment, something shifted between you, an invisible thread pulling you closer even as you both stood at opposite ends of the room.
“Spencer, I…” your voice wavered, uncertainty creeping into your tone as you struggled to find the right words to respond. The weight of his words hung heavy between you, begging for acknowledgement, for resolution.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything. Brats like you always act out when they are attracted to someone.” Spencer paused, his gaze softening as he took a step closer to you. The air between you crackled with a newfound vulnerability, baring emotions that had long been buried beneath layers of animosity and pride.
“Spencer, you have a very active imagination. I have, erm, I have never thought of you like that.” You stumbled over your words, the admission weighing heavily on your conscience. Spencer's expression softened at your response, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes as he processed your words.
“I do not believe that for one second, sweetheart.” Spencer 's voice was barely above a whisper, his words laced with a raw honesty that left no room for doubt. The tension in the room had shifted once again, morphing into a charged undercurrent that pulsed between you, drawing you closer in a dance as old as time.
In one swift motion, Spencer seemed to have place you on top of his lap, your ass up in the air, and the palm of his hand striking against your backside.
Your breath hitched at the unexpected contact, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as Spencer's touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. The sting of his hand against your skin reverberated through your body, igniting a primal fire that had long been smouldering beneath the surface.
“Now, you’re going to be a good girl, and say thank you after every time I spank you.” Spencer paused, his voice low and commanding as he laid down the rules of their newfound dynamic. Your head spun with a mixture of confusion and a strange exhilaration at the turn of events, the rush of adrenaline heightening your senses.
“Yes, sir.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you complied with Spencer's demand, the unfamiliar title sending a thrill down your spine. Each strike of his hand against your skin sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, a heady mix of pain and desire intertwining in a dangerous dance.
“Are you sorry for been a brat? For constantly picking fights with me over nothing? For making Emily do this, just so I can use you like the slut you are.” Spencer paused; his voice laced with a deliberate edge as he pushed the boundaries of your newfound dynamic. Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a surge of conflicting emotions crashing over you. The raw honesty in Spencer's tone stripped away the layers of pretence between you, exposing the raw desire that simmered beneath the surface.
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of submission and defiance.
Spencer’s hand moved over your panties, so he could feel the ever-growing wet patch. “Do you like that? You like calling me sir, and me calling you a slut. You know for the type of brat you are out in the office or in the field, you break a lot easier than expected.”
Your breath caught in your throat as Spencer's words sent a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through you. The intensity of the moment hung heavy in the air, the boundaries between desire and shame blurring as his touch ignited a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing second.
“Yes, sir.” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensations that pulsed through your body. The weight of his hand against your skin, the pressure of his touch against your most intimate places, all served to push you to the brink of a precipice you had never dared to explore before.
“Good girl, now stand up and take off your bra and panties.” Spencer demanded, his voice firm and authoritative. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the new dynamic unfolding between you. But you knew that you wanted this, needed this, and so you did as he commanded.
With trembling hands, you unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor. Then, you stepped out of your panties, your legs feeling unsteady as you stood there before him, naked and exposed. The air between you was thick with desire, and you could feel Spencer's gaze raking over your body, devouring every inch of you.
"Now, bend over the table," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. You did as he said, your hands gripping the edge of the table as you lowered your body, presenting yourself to him. The cool surface of the table against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat that was building inside you. You could feel the moisture between your legs as it dripped down your thighs, a testament to the arousal that was consuming you.
Spencer stepped closer to you, his cock hard and pulsating with need. He ran his fingers through your hair, tangling them in the strands as he pulled your head back, his gaze never wavering from your exposed ass.
"You're such a naughty little slut, aren't you?" he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. "You know you want this, don't you? You've been craving my cock since the first day we met."
You could only nod in response, your body trembling with anticipation as his erection pressed against your wet sex.
"Good," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I've been waiting for this moment ever since I saw you, too."
With one swift movement, he positioned himself at your entrance and thrust inside you in one smooth motion. Your eyes widened at the sudden invasion, the pleasure and pain intermingling in a way that was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.
You gasped, arching your back as his cock filled you completely. Spencer's hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he began to move within you. His thrusts were rhythmic and powerful, filling you to the brim with each movement.
Your moans filled the room as Spencer's cock slid in and out of you, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as he fucked you hard and rough. Your mind was a blur of mixed emotions, guilt mingling with desire as you surrendered to the animalistic lust that was consuming you.
You could feel his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. Your legs were trembling with each movement, your body submitting to his every command.
"You feel so good, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "So tight and wet. Just the way I always imagined you would be."
His words sent a rush of pleasure through you, making you clench around his cock. Spencer thrust deeper, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm that had you gasping for breath.
"Tell me you want me, baby," he growled, his voice harsh with need. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."
You couldn't form words, your mind lost in the haze of pleasure and desire. All you could do was cry out and arch your back, begging for more.
"Please, please, please," you moaned, your voice ragged with need. "More, oh please, more."
Spencer's smile was wicked, his eyes dark and full of lust. "Tell me you want me, baby," he demanded, holding your hips tight as he thrust into you.
"I want you, oh, I want you so fucking much!" you cried out, your body writhing beneath him. Your nails dug into the edge of the table, your legs trembling as you pushed back against him, taking him deeper inside you.
His thrusts became harder, faster, each one a razor's edge of pleasure and pain. You could feel his fingers digging into your hips, his breath hot against your skin as he possessed you completely.
"Tell me, slut," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me you're mine, and that you'll do anything I say."
You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the new dynamic unfolding between you. But you knew that you wanted this, needed this, and so you did as he commanded.
"I'm yours, sir," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you surrendered to the power, he held over you. "I'll do anything you say."
Spencer's eyes widened at your submission, a sense of triumph and desire flooding his entire being. He thrusted deeper into you, his cock aching to be buried inside you even further.
Your moans grew louder, your body shaking with every thrust as he took control of you. The power he wielded over you sent ripples of ecstasy through your entire being, your mind hazy with pleasure.
"That's it, baby, let me hear you," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me how much you love taking my cock, how much you love feeling me inside you."
You couldn't form words, your breaths coming out in short, sharp gasps. Your fingernails left marks on the edge of the table, your body writhing under his assault.
"Mmm, that's it, tell me baby," he urged, his hips moving in a relay and powerful stroke. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you, how much you need it."
You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with each thrust. Your moans filled the room, and your entire body was on fire with pleasure and desire.
"Say it, baby," he demanded, his voice growing rough with need. "Say you love my cock inside you."
"I-I love your cock inside me," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you, please don't stop."
Spencer's eyes darkened at your plea, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you harder. Your moans filled the room, your body arching and begging for more. You could feel the tension building, the wave of pleasure and desire crashing over you.
"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Come for me, let go of all that pleasure and surrender to me completely."
Your body shuddered, your moans growing louder as the orgasm overwhelmed you. Your pussy clenched around his cock, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure through Spencer's entire being.
He continued to thrust, his cock sliding in and out of you in a relentless rhythm. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling with each movement.
You could tell Spencer wasn’t far off from his own release, the muscles in his abdomen tightening with every thrust.
The feeling of him inside you was indescribable, the intensity of your orgasm mixing with the pleasure of him taking you so roughly. You could feel him hardening even more, his cock pulsating with need as he fucked you deeper and faster.
"I'm gonna cum, baby," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to fill you up with my cum."
Your mind was a blur of thoughts and emotions, pleasure, and lust mingling with the desire to please him. You wanted him to take you, to possess you completely.
"Yes, sir, fill me up," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to feel you cum inside me."
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#spencer reid smut#criminal minds smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid criminal minds#bau team#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds x you#dr spencer reid x reader#dom spencer reid#mgg
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He will always be my akward little baby <3
#hes so babygirl#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x yn#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfic#doctor spencer reid#mgg#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x female reader#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fandom#just girly things#girlblogging#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid smut#spencer reid angst#spencerreid#matthew gray gubler#mgg x reader#spencer reid moodboard
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Being with Spencer means getting lover letters on the regular
There was something so poetic about Spencer. He paid attention to the small details and never let you forget that he loved you. Although you could hardly remember the day you told him you'd never received a love letter, you do remember the day he gave you the first of many.
It was a bright yet cool morning. Spencer's apartment was chilly, but no match for your oversize sweater also belonging to him. The sheets are soft yet empty, without his body beside you. Work had again taken him away in the early morning hours. Spencer was as quiet as he could be when getting ready, but the lack of warmth is what wakes you up.
Yawning, you stretch the sleep from your body, spreading yourself on the large bed. You reach for your phone on the nightstand, yet your hand is greeted by something else.
At first, you're amused to feel the warmth of the clear plastic, but it's quickly replaced. You pick it up and revel a single red rose, breakfast, along with a cup of coffee and water. A breathy chuckle leaves you, nervous and excited at the same time. Breakfast in bed was something Spencer had made you accustomed to, but a white envelope sealed by wax wasn't.
As you picked it up, you could feel the quality of the paper against your fingers. Spencer was a man who preferred things an older way, so no surprise his love letters wouldn't be modern. Thoughts raced through your mind as you could feel the weight of the envelope or, more so, the paper inside of it. You wondered how many pages it contained and what those themselves contained.
Spencer was an educated man who had a way with words, no matter the subject. But just thinking of all the lovely things he wrote had your heart racing. Hesitant, you're slow to break the red seal, but once it's broken, your hands are quick to release the paper. Taking a breath, you calm yourself before reading.
Dear, love..
#spencer reid x black!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#black fem reader#black!reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#mjlovescm#fluff and feels#fluff#love letters#breakfast in bed#spencer reid x you
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hidden freak | s.r x fem!reader
ꨄ requested: anonymous
ꨄ genre: fluff + suggestiveness
ꨄ summary: spencer's not very used to having to hide hickeys on his body and you had to leave before he had the chance to ask you how to hide it. doing the best he could, he threw on a shirt with a collar and hoped for the best.
spencer was sitting at his desk, head ducked down as he worked on his reports for the day. he was finishing up his third report when morgan walked up to his desk, an open folder in his left hand and a cup of coffee in his right.
"hey, kid, what did that note the unsub-" morgan looked up from the file and looked at spencer, his eyes landing on the deep red bruise poking out of his collar. a smirk immediately broke out on his face. "what is that?"
spencer's lips turned down, he looked down thinking something was on his shirt but quickly realized that his collar wasn't in place. his hand shot up to cover his neck but it was too late. "nothing! it's nothing!"
"since when have you been getting some action, pretty boy? if i remember correctly the last interaction you had with a woman you spilled your coffee on yourself." morgan snickered and set the file and cup of coffee down on spencer's desk, he pulled out the chair from the empty desk in front of spencer's and took a seat.
"i'm not- this is none of your business!" his voice went up a few pitches and a blush was rapidly spreading across his body. spencer's hands trembled with embarrassment as he tried to fix his collar.
"what have you done to him, morgan? he's so...red." garcia walked up behind derek and placed her hands on his shoulders, her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she took in the sight of spencer.
"¡ haven't done anything to him but apparently someone else has." derek reached forward and pulled spencer's collar to expose the hickey to penelope. spencer swatted his hand away and jerked back, pushing his chair back so he was out of his reach.
"spencer, i didn't even think you did those types of things!"
"i'm an adult," spencer's eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. he knew he was the youngest on the team and they all saw him as the baby of the group but he didn't actually think that they thought he was exempt from doing adult things. "¡ do adult things just like the rest of you."
there was a grimace painted on garcia and derek's faces when he said that. derek slapped his hands on his legs and gathered his things, mumbling something about unwanted images in his mind as he walked away.
#golden1u5t#myrarants#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x you#dom spencer reid#sub spencer reid#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader fluff#spencer reid x y/n
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★. Autumn season and a date with spencer, what else could I ask for? Oh, yes! A book and a cup of coffee, please.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds moodboard#mgg#mgg pics#spencer reid moodboard#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid gif#spencer reid gifs#spencer reid aesthetic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid icon#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid au#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds gif#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds x reader
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It Was Horrible Until It Wasn't (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Reader comes up to her apartment after Spencer walks her home from the diner, where they spend the last couple of hours. She is still processing the night and wonders if they will meet again. Another fortuitous event makes that happen. In which terms they will part ways again?
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: Mention of guns (tests to carry a gun). Mention to Reader's ex. Some strong words? IDK what else. If I forgot something, let me know.
A/N: I got very excited after your reactions and comments to "If Anything, I Find it Educative." So this is kind of part two, from Reader's perspective. I'm not convinced about a series yet, even if I have some ideas. What would you like to see if it happens?
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Reader's POV
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As I open the door, a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered on the floor greets me. That reminds me that I haven't unpacked all my things yet.
I've only been living here for two weeks, and I'm still getting used to the idea that this is my new home.
It doesn't feel like it yet.
But the boxes will be a problem for tomorrow. Now, I only want to take off these high heels and this fancy dress and call it a night - a pretty eventful night.
Not only did I have to confront my ex with his new girlfriend, but I also had to pretend I was okay with it. But how did I expect to do that? Did I genuinely think two months would be enough to be outside again to prove I got myself up?
How naive of me.
I make a beeline to my bedroom, not even bothering to look at the rest of the apartment.
Again, it's tomorrow's problem.
Retreating my phone from my purse, I plug it to charge over my bedside table as I strip from my clothes and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine.
The entire time, my mind doesn't stop wandering. At some point, it settles on the girl I helped from choking. It was a total coincidence for me to be there. I only approached the bar for another drink when I heard that man rambling. I don't know why my ear perked up, but it did. When I look to find the voice's source, my eyes land on the man and the girl by his side.
He was talking as if the world would end if he didn't, and the girl only eyed him from head to toe, clearly not giving a damn what he was saying. I kept subtly listening to them while sipping my drink. The guy's voice had something enchanting. I would have heard him talk for hours if it were from me. It was a bad thing his interlocutor wasn't so receptive, and when she occasionally said something, it was a flirting remark that only made him uncomfortable.
What a shame.
When I noticed her fighting to breathe, swatting her hands in desperation, and the poor guy froze on the spot, I knew I needed to do something.
I didn't think much of it and wrapped my arms around her torso to help her. It worked. The oyster she choked with flew into the air, and she could breathe again.
But the next thing I knew, her palm connected to the man's cheek.
The poor guy seemed so confused, and the people talking around didn't help either. What a shitty situation. And as the good citizen I am, I tried to do something about it, only to get lashed out by the same woman I just saved from choking.
Fuck it.
Seeing the people's attention returned to them, I walked away. That wasn't my fight in the first place.
Returning from the bathroom, I hear my phone ding. It's a text from my friend Andie.
Andie: How did the gala turn out? Did you see him? He was with her, right?
Andie had insisted on me not going to the gala, although I repeated to her several times that it was okay, that nothing would happen, and that I couldn't hide forever.
Me: You were right. I wasn't ready.
It's a defeat I must recognize. I wasn't prepared to see them.
Andie: My girl, I'm so sorry. It must have been awful for you.
It was, but it doesn't mean the night was a disaster.
Me: It was horrible until it wasn't. I can tell you more tomorrow. Now, I only want to go to bed.
Andie: You have me a bit confused here, but okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight; I love you.
I return my phone to the charger and slip under the covers.
It was horrible until it wasn't.
I keep thinking about that. And a smile tugs the corner of my lips. Since Spencer - the guy who got slapped by the oyster-choked girl - approached me at the terrace, the night wasn't that awful anymore.
Who would have thought I would end my night in a diner, dressed to the nines and spouting details of my messy life to a stranger?
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Monday morning comes faster than I wanted.
I spent my Sunday mostly unpacking boxes and tidying my apartment, and now, with a coffee in hand, I cross the hall to my office on the third floor of the FBI building in Quantico.
Some colleagues greet me as I pass by. I return them with a polite smile. I saw a couple of them at the gala on Saturday. I only hope they didn't notice the wreck I was that night.
On my desk, a pile of hundreds of manila folders are waiting for me.
This Monday will be a blast.
Dutifully, I reach for the first folder to start my work, as my ear perks up to two colleagues' conversation about the gala.
"Did you see them? Those hot chicks from Counterterrorism?" a male colleague says to another.
"Yeah. I heard one of them was hitting on Reid from the BAU. What a waste!" The other adds.
"And the lucky bastard wasn't able to take her home. His nerdy charm didn't even help him with that."
The mention of the BAU brings Spencer to my mind again. And I realize I don't even know his last name.
I don't think I need to know, but I can't stop my fingers from typing 'Spencer FBI BAU' on my computer.
My findings make the conversation between my colleagues intriguing. They were precisely talking about Spencer, Spencer Reid, and the girl with him at the gala. Clearly, the incident did not go unnoticed.
I don't like the tone they refer to him, either. I do not know the guy well, but I'm sure he's way better than any of the men at the venue that night.
Are you hearing yourself (Y/N)? That kind of blind trust put you in this situation with your ex in the first place.
I shouldn't grant credibility so fast, but honestly? Spencer seems to be everything but a threat. The things he said, the way he spoke. Anyway, I should stop thinking about that if I want to finish some work. Yeah, that's what I need to do.
Drowning out the noise, I return to the opened folder and continue working.
Some would ask how a task as monotonous as the one I'm doing now could be appealing to someone. The appeal for me comes from how everything fits in the right places and serves a purpose. That's enough for me, even if some people don't understand it.
My ex didn't. And as him, many others.
I'm still fighting to ease the effects their judgments had on me.
Around lunchtime, stopping the papers review, I pick up my phone to check my messages. Yesterday, I promised Andie I would have lunch with her today, so I'm checking for her confirmation and a place to meet.
Just in time, a text comes. She is free right now and suggests a restaurant just outside the building.
"Hey, girl! I'm glad you made it," she greets me as I spot her on one of the tables.
"Of course. I promised I would."
Lunchtime is only one hour, so we order quickly and go straight to the matter.
"I can't believe the son of the bitch decided to go and show off his new conquest," Andie huffs.
"Not that new, considering she has been sleeping with him in what used to be my bed at least a month before I discovered it," I correct with an annoyed look.
It's good to say these things without crying my eyes out anymore.
I tell Andie more details about how it went to share a space packed with mutuals around us and try to stay composed.
"But at some point, I just couldn't. So I retracted to the bar. I only wanted to grab a drink and be alone."
Andie nods in understanding.
"I don't blame you. So you were at the bar when you crossed to the girl to whom you did Heimlich?"
Yesterday, by phone, I told Andie the main facts regarding that, and after laughing for a solid five minutes about the whole ordeal, she made me promise to reveal more details in our lunch meeting.
That's why I'm describing what happened piece by piece.
"She slapped the guy? And she yelled at you? What a bitch! But I don't understand why he apologized on her behalf."
"Honestly? I didn't understand it, but it made sense after talking with him. The guy felt responsible, even if it wasn't related to him. It was the fact that someone had to do the right thing," I explain, with my eyes fixed on my water glass, recalling Spencer's words from that night.
I can't help but feel some fondness for his genuine worry. Andie raises an eyebrow and hums.
"The guy made a good impression on you, I see."
Andie's tone is teasing, and I know exactly where she is heading.
"Come on, don't start with that," I warn her. I'm not thoroughly annoyed, but I'm not in the mood for teasing. Andie scoffs.
"I'm just saying it's good to know there are men out there that give hopes up. That's all!"
"Sure," I mumble, not very convinced by her explanation.
The rest of our lunch follows a similar tone. When I finish telling Andie about Spencer walking me home, I know she is biting her tongue to say something to taunt me, but she holds back and opts for a question.
"Do you think you'll see him again?"
I ponder my answer. I don't know, although I remember Spencer asking, 'See you around?'
That doesn't mean we agreed to see each other again, even if I said, 'Sure, why not?'
Did Spencer mean that? Did he want to see me again?
"I don't know. Maybe. We both work in this building, so there are chances, I guess," I shrug. Andie narrows her eyes.
"But do you want to?"
That's a question I don't know how to answer, so I take some seconds to think about it.
"Let's say I'm not opposed to the idea."
A reply that could be an understatement. But not I'm telling Andie that.
She doesn't press on the matter, though. And I'm grateful she doesn't.
Now it's time to go back to work. We walk out of the restaurant to our building and separate ways at the elevator. Andie continues to the eighth floor when I hop off on the third.
Returning to my desk, I continue checking the folders piled on my desk, and my mind only focuses on that, knowing if I don't, there is no chance of getting this stack finished.
----
A good thing about the week progressing is nobody talking anymore about the damn gala. It's been a nightmare since Monday when everyone had to mention something about it. That included comments about me facing my ex there.
Of course, it was public knowledge I was dating an agent of the Criminal Investigative Division. Also, it became public knowledge he cheated on me with his current girlfriend from Counterterrorism.
But finally, it is Thursday, and everything seems to have returned to normal, so much so that the amount of work has increased exponentially. That's why I'm still at the office at seven pm.
I only assume it's time to go home when my boss pokes out of his office and calls for Andrew, one of our coworkers who distributes files and memos to the other departments.
I turn around, and it's only me at this hour. My boss notices the vacant office and is now talking to me.
"I guess I have to ask you to do this. Can you go to the sixth and drop this to Aaron Hotchner's office? I would have waited until tomorrow for Andrew, but this must be at his desk today."
I don't think I have a choice, so I pick the folder, promising to drop it before going home.
With my coat and purse, I grab the folder and stroll to the elevator.
I have been working here for four years and know every financial detail of each Quantico department, but I still need to recognize all department locations in this facility. So, floors are just floors, except the eight where Andie works.
Arriving at my destination, I walk into a bullpen, where I can see a lot of desks and offices. And just like my floor, it is almost empty. Anyway, I see one of the offices with lights on. My instinct tells me that's the place I'm looking for, and the plaque at the door confirms my suspicions: SSA Aaron Hotchner.
"Come in," a voice comes from the office when I knock.
Peeking inside, a stern-looking man is glancing in my direction. "Can I help you?" he asks with a slight frown.
"Yes, sir. I'm with the Finance Division, and my boss asked me to bring this to you," I explain as I reach out to hand him the folder. When he grabs it, realization washes over the man.
"Of course. Thank you very much-" Agent Hotchner trails off.
"(Y/L/N)," I supply, knowing he wants my last name.
"Thank you very much, Agent (Y/L/N)."
Weird.
Everyone in the finance and administrative department refers to each other only by last name. We use the 'agent' thing mainly with those who do the fieldwork, and we are used to that.
"You're welcome, Agent Hotchner," I smile politely, ready to leave the man's office. He nods approvingly.
"Hotch, sorry for interrupting you, but I'm ready with my report. I thought you wanted it-"
A man talks, entering abruptly at the office. He stops in his tracks when he sees Agent Hotchner isn't alone.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with someone. I can come back later," he apologizes.
Wait. I know that voice.
I turn, and I see Spencer standing there. His eyes meet mine, and I feel my cheeks burn. He doesn't say anything but doesn't tear his eyes from mine.
I don't know how many seconds pass, but it's enough for Agent Hotchner to intervene.
"Reid?" he calls Spencer's attention.
"Uh?"
"The report. It's okay; you can give it to me," he tells Spencer, not without subtly bouncing his gaze between us.
"Oh. Okay." Spencer approaches Hotchner's desk, but he still directs glances at me. I want to say hi to him properly, but it doesn't feel okay knowing the man in front of us is undoubtedly his boss. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. So, I take that as my cue to leave.
"If you excuse me," I tell Agent Hotchner, signaling my departure. Spencer looks at me, and I give him a subtle smile.
"Of course. Thank you again, Agent (Y/L/N)."
"To you, sir. Have a good evening."
I walk down the stairs to the open bullpen and toward the elevator.
Before I can push the go-down button, a voice calls my name. It's Spencer's.
"(Y/N), wait!"
I turn and see him trotting towards me.
"Hi!" he says once we are face to face.
Now I feel bad. Spencer comes here to say hi, and I didn't greet him properly just two minutes ago.
"Spencer, hi. I'm sorry, I should have said something there, but I didn't know if you wanted him to know- I mean, I supposed he was your boss, and I-"
What's wrong with me?
Why can't I explain myself without stumbling with my words?
"No. No. Don't apologize. It's okay. I should have told you something, too. But I didn't expect to see you here."
"Me neither. My boss sent me here instead of one of my coworkers, who left early. I didn't know this was the BAU floor. What a coincidence, uh?" I play cool, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Spencer nods in agreement.
"Totally. It's good to see you, though. I hoped we could cross paths again."
Isn't it weird that his words have produced a funny tingle in my stomach right now?
"Is that so?" I half-breath, noticing his cheeks turn a shade of pink.
"Yes. I mean, I truly enjoyed talking to you that night," he sheepishly admits.
I more than enjoyed it, Spencer.
"Yeah, me too."
Silence sets between us. And it's time to make a decision. I could say I go home and leave him with a lukewarm 'See you around,' or say I'm leaving, but before doing so, give Spencer my number so we can talk soon. Or...
"Are you busy right now? I'm heading home now, but if you can and want, we can go for a coffee."
Wow (Y/N). Very smooth. I like you smooth.
Spencer's eyes widened, and I wondered for a second if my offer was too straightforward.
"If you have plans, it's okay. We don't have to," I relent.
"Oh, no. I don't. And I would love to go for a coffee with you," Spencer hastens to say. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"Yeah?"
"Sure! If you wait for me just a second, I'll pick my things from my desk, and we can go."
----
This time, it's my turn to pick the place.
It's a small coffee shop in the middle of Virginia, just mid-way between Quantico and my apartment.
As we get on the train, I ask Spencer about Agent Hotchner.
"Hotch? Well, he has been at the unit for twelve years now. Gideon, a former agent, told me once he didn't expect Hotch to last long in the BAU. But he proved him wrong. Indeed, Gideon left, and Hotch stayed. Honestly, I can't picture the BAU with another unit chief."
There is a fondness when Spencer talks about Hotchner. I can tell he sees him more than as a superior.
"What about yours?"
Now is my turn to talk about my boss.
"Agent Williams? He is a bureaucrat from head to toe. He had just transferred from another administrative department when I joined the financial division four years ago. At that time, he had ten years working with the FBI. The guy is a genius but lacks social skills. I'm not judging him; I'm a bit like him. But in his position, he needs to make politics, which involves talking and convincing people."
The conversation with Spencer flows so well and easily that I'm as impressed as I was the night of the gala.
When we reach the coffee shop, we sit facing each other. After ordering our coffee, we start talking about our coworkers.
"So Garcia is our technical analyst. I have to say she is like the team's heart. Besides her outstanding skills, her compassion and care are something out of this world," Spencer admits, and again, I feel the fondness in his voice.
"She seems very special," I add. Spencer nods.
"Very. I don't know what it's like to have a sister, but if I had one, I would have liked someone like her.
So he doesn't have a sister. Does he have brothers, though? We have yet to talk about our families, so this is the first piece of information I get about it.
"What about the guy who came to check what was happening with your girl at the gala?" I ask, and Spencer scoff.
"First of all, Ashley isn't my girl. I think she made it pretty clear that night. And secondly, the guy in question is Morgan, the culprit of why I was with Ashley in the first place."
That's interesting. I want to know more about that.
"How is that?" I ask, sipping my coffee.
Spencer tells me how Morgan insisted they talk to the girls - Ashley and her friends - and how he reluctantly followed him.
I'm about to make a not-so-kind remark when Spencer gets ahead of me.
"I know it may seem like he is a thoughtless person, but he truly means well. I can't entirely agree with his tactics most of the time, but he's right when he tells me I should enjoy more and work less."
"It's safe to say you weren't 'enjoying' that much there," I quip, air-quoting the word 'enjoying.' Spencer chuckles.
"Yeah. Honestly? I have more fun when Morgan kicks doors down in our field chases than when he tries to play wingman for me."
What? Kick doors down?
"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the FBI had to spend thousands of dollars in repairs for third parties last year because of him?"
I know I'm being dramatic. It's impossible that just one agent destroyed that amount of dollars by kicking doors. But still.
Spencer's eyes widen.
"What? No! I mean, yes. He does that, but thousands of dollars? Last time I checked, doors are not that expensive."
I roll my eyes. That's not the point.
"Okay. I know it's not only Agent Morgan's doing, but did you know the buro's budget had increased by 4% last year due to refunds for field operations? And did you know 70% of that increase refers to agents shattering private property?"
Now, I sound like my boss. Great. I became what I swore to destroy.
Spencer looks at me with amusement. I narrow my eyes to him. "What?"
He clears his throat. "Oh. No, nothing. It's just - well, it's fascinating to hear you talking about - uh - numbers."
I can't help but snort. "Come on, how fascinating that can be?"
Spencer grins. "If anything, I find it educative," he parrots my words from that night, and we fall into a fit of laughs.
"Yeah?" I muse after the laughter subsides. Spencer nods, still a smile gracing his face.
Gosh, that smile.
"Well, I can talk about numbers all day. But I'm sure you don't want me to 'fascinate' you that much."
Spencer hums, faking be pondering his options.
"Don't tempt me. I like to know and talk about everything. But before returning to numbers, I want to ask about your coworkers. I already talked much about mine."
Even if there is not much to say, indulging him with an answer is only fair.
"What can I say? In my area, there are three: Anthony, Leah, and me. We were four then, but Andie was promoted to the eighth floor a year ago. Anthony is a good guy, a little inexperienced, but very eager to learn. We don't have a very close relationship, but he's my protegee at work. Leah is very clever and has enough experience, but sometimes she is not present, making things a little tense between us. Andie is rightfully my friend. We got to the bureau simultaneously, and although she doesn't work with us anymore, we are very close."
Spencer is looking at me with full attention. It's odd to talk about this kind of thing with someone. I don't like to talk about my bonds in general. It makes me feel vulnerable. But for a reason that I still don't get, with Spencer, it feels right.
It's night already, and we are in our third coffee.
"Do you usually drink this amount of coffee daily at this hour? I try to cut off my dosis after lunch, but sometimes I just can't," I point as I stir the spoon on my coffee. Spencer hums.
"I drink a lot of it at any time of the day, every day. It's worse when we are on cases because that shitty coffee at the precincts should not even be called coffee," he scoffs, pouring half of the sugar pot into his cup.
I have already noticed the amount of sugar Spencer has used in his two previous coffees; this third is not the exception.
"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," I say as my eyes dart to his sweet liquid. He follows my line of sight and chuckles.
"I love coffee, but I don't like its bitterness. I know it doesn't make sense, but for me it does."
"Fair enough."
After that, our conversation stumbles to lousy sleep habits.
"Ray hated it. Even once, he told me I purposely got up in the middle of the night to annoy him."
Spencer's brow furrows.
"Ray is your ex?"
Shit. I don't realize I'm talking about him.
Why do I have to mention him? I hate how ingrained he is still in my life.
"Yeah, Raymond. No wonder why things didn't work out between us," I try to joke because I don't want to cry about it anymore.
"An example of a man," Spencer follows my lead, and I'm grateful he doesn't look at me like people usually do when I talk about it. There is no pity. There is no that look saying, 'Oh, poor girl who got cheated on.' It's like a whole understanding. It doesn't make me feel like a failure. And that's a change—a good one.
I chuckle. "Hell, he is."
It's getting late, and it's time to part ways, even if I don't want it. Hours pass quickly with such good company.
"We should get going. It's late," I point as I glance at my phone. Spencer nods in acknowledgment, signaling the waitress to get the check. He is about to fish his wallet when I stop him.
"No. Don't do that. I invited you."
Spencer scoffs, opening his wallet nonetheless.
"No way. You invited me the other night. You can do it next time."
Next time, uh? I want to say something teasing, but the waitress returns with our check.
We are outside the coffee shop now. I adjust my coat as Spencer does the same with his suit jacket. The night is chilly, and the contrast with the warmth of the coffee shop is evident.
"Can I walk you home?" He offers. I have my doubts about that. It's not that I don't like the idea; I just don't want to use more of his time.
"You don't have to. Really," I shake my head.
"Please? You already said it. It's pretty late," he insists, looking at me with dog puppy eyes.
Why is he doing that? He is testing my resolve.
"You know I can take care of myself, right? I'm a certificated FBI agent. I can't carry a gun, but sure I could manage," I argue in a teasing tone. Spencer chuckles.
"I know you are. And I'm sure you could. Even though, why no to prolong our evening for fifteen minutes long?" I raise an eyebrow.
"So you really like my company, uh?"
I'm sure I see a blush creeping his cheeks, and it's endearing.
"I like your company. I thought I made it pretty clear the other night?" he probes. And I don't know how to respond to that.
The truth is quite curious. Teasing Spencer seems so natural sometimes, but now I don't know what to say.
I decide not to say anything and nod, motioning for us to start walking.
Spencer follows me, and we walk in silence for the first block. Then, I feel the need to continue our conversation. I want these fifteen minutes to be as good as the previous two hours.
"Did you know that I used to carry a gun? Although it took me three failed tests to do so."
Spencer looks at me, surprised. I take that as my cue to tell that story.
Once I tell him how I finally managed to pass my shooting test, he starts telling me how he also failed his test a couple of times.
"So you saved your boss life shooting an unsub?" Spencer nods.
"But I really aimed to his leg, not his head," he adds, and we burst into a fit of laughter.
Without realizing it, we are already in front of my building. The laughter subsides when we notice where we are.
I clear my throat. "Well. Uh-thank you. Again," I say, referring to him walking me home.
"No need," Spencer says. "I had a good time today," he adds, smiling.
I can't help but feel my cheeks burn. Spencer casts his eyes to the ground.
"Me too," I admit, biting my bottom lip. "I - uh."
Why am I so nervous right now? Just say what you want to say!
"I - uh. I'd really like to do this again. I mean, you know, maybe next time could be something planned?"
Spencer's eyes flick to mine. I would say he didn't expect me to say that.
"I would love that," he says, keeping eye contact. And for a moment, I think the breath leaves my lungs. Those eyes are something I didn't see in my life before. I can't describe it, but it's enough to make me speechless.
"I guess it's here when I ask for your number?" Spencer's voice is the one that brings me out of the trance.
I chuckle, mid-embarrassed by my absorption moment. I gesture for him to give me the phone. Spencer does it, and I advert his piercing gaze to focus on typing my number. Once done, I return the device with a playful smile. Jeez, I feel like a damn teenager.
A snort leaves Spencer's lips when he sees the name I used for my contact.
"Really?" He asks. I nod, chuckling.
"It's safe to say you won't forget who I am," I confirm.
"Bet I won't."
"Good. Now I'm going to come up," I gesture to the building. "Good night, Spencer."
"Good night, (Y/N)."
I turn to enter the building, and although I can't see him, I feel him standing there in the cold night until I disappear into the elevator.
Once I cross the threshold of my apartment, a ding comes from my phone. Frowning, I pick it up.
Unknown number: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. SR.
I bit my lower lip. And after typing a reply, I start my night routine before bed.
Oh, boy. What are you getting into (Y/N)?
Whatever it is, it feels so good.
-------------
A/N 2: As always, I'm excited to know your thoughts about this one!
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#aperrywilliams#amanda perry williams
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Puddles
Summary: rainy days with Spencer Reid
Pairings: Spencer Reid x GN!reader
Warnings: language, Just lots of fluff and sum angst in between, Spencer’s random love for jello, fire(for a candle), reader has a nightmare about Spencer dying, mentions of firearms, use of babe, prolly more.
A/N: I’m in love with MGG and me nd him have the same initials so it means he likes me back😍. Not Proofread!
* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆
It sounded liked pebbles were hitting the windows, the rain was coming down hard. The day had a tranquil calm to it. A Beatles record played softly on the record player.
Spencer sat curled in a sweater on the couch, you know he stole from you but he denied, reading an old book you would never be able to comprehend. Fresh tea sat steaming on the coffee table, made about five minutes ago by you.
Leaning forward and curling his fingers around the cup, Spencer raised the tea to his lips and drank.
You couldn’t help feeling the urge to do something, despite the weather.
“Spence, you wanna do something?” You asked, sitting next to him.
Spencer shut his book and set it on the table next to his tea, he faced you giving his full attention. “Like what?” He asked, curious to your antics.
“A couple things.” You responded with a smirk. Spencer raised his eyebrow. “You’re taking vacation time, right?”
Spencer nodded his head urging you to continue. Thunder crackled from above, shaking the entire building.
“Ok, put on some boots and a jacket.” You smiled from ear to ear now.
You both took a minute to pull yourselves together, Spencer looked like he was prepared for an avalanche which you found amusing. You grabbed Spencer’s left hand with your right and pulled him down the steps of your apartment building.
Once you came outside you just had to admire the sounds and the sight in front of you. The rain poured violently but the air was warm so the water cooled your skin soothingly. You decided to ditch your coat in the entrance of the building. Traffic seemed to have forgotten to exist, only able to hear the cars passing a few blocks over.
The open road was littered with puddles. You grinned like a child and ran over to the biggest puddle you could spot and start splashing. You started laughing, lost in the moment.
Spencer stood at the sidewalk just admiring how beautiful and care free you look. He couldn’t help the smile on his face even if he wanted to. You were soaking wet yet you seemed oblivious to it.
“Come on! Join me!” You yelled at your boyfriend, well aware of his staring.
Spencer walked over to you and you grabbed both his bands in yours and you started jumping around in the puddles together. You both looked like idiots no doubt, but neither of you could find it in you to care.
A few times people with umbrellas walked past and looked at the two of you strangely. You were laughing so hard that you fell over, cursing on your way down, Spencer laughed loudly and helped you up.
After about a hour of your fooling around, you both decided to go inside. You changed out of your soggy clothes, while Spencer took a shower you cleaned up the living room area. You decided to grab two plastic spoons off the counter and some Jello cups from the fridge for you and Spencer’s lunch.
Spencer eventually emerged from the shower, his hair was dripping as he ran a comb through it. He walked over to the couch.
Spotting the treat on the table Spencer’s eyes light up, “Jello! my favorite!”
You laughed at his fascination for the gelatin. Spencer sat down and plucked one of the cups from its spot along with a spoon. Peeling the plastic off both items, Spencer then dug in and practically inhaled the orange Jello. You had grabbed a variety of colors, except for green jello which Spencer refused to eat.
Grabbing a candle off a shelf, you walk over to one of the window sills where you keep matches. You pull a match from the box and light the wick of the candle letting a cinnamon fragrance fill the air.
You sit next down next to your lanky boyfriend, much like earlier, though this time you reach and grab yourself a jello and spoon. Once you and Spencer are both done chowing down on the colorful desserts you both sit in a peaceful silence.
“Want to build a blanket fort?” Spencer asks with a childish glint in his eyes.
“Is that even a question?” You respond, smiling.
Without saying a word, you both start grabbing supplies. Spencer grabbed dozens of blankets and quilts you both kept in your shared bedroom. You grabbed several pillows to cushion the area as well as books off the living room bookshelf. Working as a team, you both start pinning blankets down with the thick books.
After what you would estimate 20 minutes, you had a comfortable looking fort for you to cuddle in. Spencer went and grabbed snacks while you settled in and decided what to watch. You found an old Disney movie and waited for Spencer’s return.
Returning from the kitchen, arms full of snacks and juices, Spencer struggled to carry everything over to the little set up you two created. You got up and grabbed some things from his arms, helping him set things down and organize the tiny mess that had been created.
You and Spencer then settled in, you lied with his head on your chest and watched the movie. You grabbed a Capris Sun from the coffee table which you had moved earlier on.
During the film, you and Spence would have side conversations and make jokes. You played with his hair enjoying the moment.
Before you knew it, the movie was over. Spencer fetched the remote and put on some old black and white silent film. You went back and forth saying what you thought the characters were, making horrible British accents in the process.
The movie hadn’t even finished before Spencer fell asleep, you shortly after. You were just about to be completely token over by sleep when you felt Spencer wrap his arms around you. You snuggled yourself further into his chest, consumed by him and the sweet bliss of sleep.
Your dreams weren’t as pleasant as the day, you had a nightmare about Spencer.
In your “dream” you were placing a freshly made bowl of Jello in the fridge. Shutting the fridge after, you head to the sink to wash the dishes. A knock on the door unfocuses you from your tasks.
You were expecting Spencer. ‘He must have forgot his key, again’, you thought to yourself. You smile and open the door, ready for the embrace. Instead your met with two rather sad looking faces belonging to JJ and Morgan.
“I’m so sorry-“ JJ began, but you cut her off.
“Where’s Spence?” Your smile had became a nervous one, in denial of the obvious news. Your ears started ringing.
“During the case we were working, the unsub…Spencer confronted… pulled his firearm…” Derek explained the events but you drowned most of it out.
You couldn’t take it anymore, you curled in a ball on the floor and sobbed. The pair rushed towards but you heard Spencer calling your name, suddenly you woke up.
Opening your eyes you exactly who you wanted. You tackled him in a hug and started crying. He held onto you, startled, but ready to comfort. He rubbed your back soothingly and rocked you both back and forth gently.
Regaining control of yourself, you take in the state of your shared apartment. The living room looked like it had been perfectly cleaned all except for where you slept. You smelt burning pancakes.
“Hey, babe?” You ask, still being held by your still very worried boyfriend.
Spencer pulled away so he could look at you.
“Breakfast is burning.”
Spencer seemed alarmed at the realization and ran towards the Kitchen. You decided to get up and go brush your teeth while Spencer handled that fiasco.
You still thought about your nightmare, it was too real. You spat toothpaste in the sink and rinsed your mouth before returning to the living room.
You folded the blanket you slept with and put the pillow on the sofa. Spencer appeared about 15 minutes later, sitting next to you.
“Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” Spencer didn’t want to pry information out of you, but he also didn’t want you to bottle your feelings.
“You got shot,” you teared up. “JJ and Derek came here to tell me you were-“ you choked on a gasp.
Spencer pulled you into his chest and rubbed your back soothingly, “Shhh. It was a nightmare. I’m still here.”
You listened to his words and his heart beating. You knew obviously it was just a dream, but you couldn’t get over the realness of it. How it was possible for an unsub to take him from you.
Shutting your eyes, you forced all the negative thoughts out of your head. You took a few deep breaths and regained your composure.
Spencer pulled away from you, “Pancakes are a tad burnt, but there’s eggs, bacon, toast.”
Your stomach growled hearing the different names. Both of you chuckled at the noise. You leant forward and gave Spencer a kiss, “Mmm. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Spencer replied against your lips.
You walked together over to the kitchen still smelling of smoke. You grab two plates and hand Spencer his, you both go to work of filling the dishes with food.
After grabbing both your fills and beverages, you sit opposite of each other at the table. You both eat and discuss the plans of the days to come. Discussing what books to read, what vinyls to purchase, etc. You knew in that moment you didn’t care about what could happen, simply what was happening in the present.
* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆
A/N: I’m back frm the dead nd this has been in the drafts for awhile. Also idk wtf happened with this bc it started as something supposed to be wholesome but then I got stoned nd added angst ig 😭
#criminal minds#bau team#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#mgg x reader#spencer reid angst#fluff
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I looooved messy it was sooo fluff and cute!! Could you do a Spencer x reader where reader is also a teacher at the uni where Spence works and it’s like a meet cute because they were both told they could have the same room at the same time for their students to take a test and they’re both stubborn about it until one of them is like “fine I’ll let you have it if you take me out for coffee” ☺️🫶
mix-up (spencer reid)
summary: a small mix up leads you to meeting a rather intriguing person.
genre: fluff!
cw!: possible college inaccuracies..sorry!!
a/n: hi lovely! tysm for requesting, i hope you like how i wrote this. <3
you hurriedly walked through the college corridors, your glasses falling off the bridge of your nose as you struggled to adjust them with the tests in your hands. turns out printing the exams 2 hours before the test in a prestigious college wasn’t exactly the best idea.
your brows furrowed in confusion as you were met with half of your class sat on one side of the room, and someone else’s students on the other.
a tall man with wavy brown hair and curious brown eyes caught yours.
you walked down the stairs, placing the exams with a grunt on the table before turning to him.
“excuse me, i think you have the wrong room.” you said, trying to hold your own. intimidated by the, rather handsome, man standing before you.
“um…no, this is quantum mechanics, right?” he spoke clearly and confidently, which didn’t help with keeping your composure
“yes, but i have this hour reserved for an exam” you frowned, placing your hands on your hips. trying your best to appear convinced.
“well, i do as well.” he smiled, smug. he shrugged.
“guess we’ll have to share” he said dismissively, turning around to grab his exams.
you could’ve just ended it there…but you didn’t.
“no. i booked this room.” you said, with a sudden burst of confidence.
he turned back, appalled. he smiled before nodding. on a random day, with a random person, he would’ve just let it go. but for some reason, he felt intrigued by you.
“well this is an important test, we aren’t leaving to find another classroom” he declared, placing his hands in his pockets.
“is this going to be a problem?…” “-doctor spencer reid.” he grinned. nodding for you to continue
“okay, is this going to be a problem dr reid?” he liked the way you said his name. was he going to be the bigger person with nothing in exchange? of course not.
“fine, i’ll let you have it if you let me take you out for coffee” he finally said, watching your face attentively. he laughed slightly as you looked away in defeat, annoyed. a pink hue shading your cheeks.
“fine.” you mumbled, deciding the best way to save time and effort, was accepting his offer. no other reason why…
he smirked, turning around and grabbing the exam. he exited with his students (thankfully, there were few). you watched as he went out, wondering if he was really going to follow through with that offer, and wondering why you wanted him to do so.
“okay let’s start guys, sorry about that” you spoke to your students, handing out the papers.
after the class had finalized, you were left picking up your things and placing the exams in a folder. you were about to walk out of the room.
“hey! ready to head out?” an out of breath voice came toward you. he stood in front of you with his hands on his knees, regaining his breath before properly standing up.
“i- why are you so breathless?” you let out a breathy laugh.
“what if i saw its cause you took my breath away” he chuckled, his smile incredibly contagious.
you rolled your eyes, flattered. on the inside you were definitely not this casual about this.
“anyways, should we go?” he spoke again, hands gesturing to the exit in a gentleman-y manner.
you nodded, smile still confidently plastered on your face. incredibly thankful for your schedules clashing.
#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds fic
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Clueless
___
Pairing(s): Spencer Reid x Autistic!Reader
Word Count: 1.1K
Summary: You and Spencer are oblivious. But maybe you two aren’t the only ones who are… ||| Based on this request
Warning(s): reader is gender neutral (not really a warning but whatever), Spencer is implied to be autistic too, secret relationship (?)
A/N: This is NOT my best writing. But I tried! Hope you enjoy & feel free to request!!!
Main Masterlist
||| Do NOT plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work in any way. Thank you. |||
___
Spencer Reid is smart. Everyone knows this is in the BAU. I mean, what average person just has an IQ of 187? People can be shocked about how many facts and statistics he knows just on the top of his head. Or how he can beat almost anyone in a chess match. So, yeah, he’s really smart.
But there is something that only a few people know about him.
He is clueless. So clueless.
When the anybody would make a joke, Spencer would have a difficult time deciphering it. His issue was that he took these jokes literally. Because, in his mind, it’s just like a case. Because maybe if he could figure out what the joke meant, he would finally get it.
The BAU team knew Spencer was clueless in those types of circumstances. And they had no problem explaining to him what they meant. That was until a new person entered the team.
When you first started your job at the BAU, everything went well. You met the team, did some paperwork, and called it a day. Of course, in the beginning, you were a little overstimulated but it subsided. You knew it wouldn’t always be as easy of a day in comparison of the future work days, but you thought it went pretty good.
The day that you started working was the day the team saw how perfectly you and Spencer fit together. I mean, even on your second day, the team saw you and Spencer talking during lunch! They have never seen Spencer talk so animated.
During your first week, the team got a case. While discussing it on the plane, Spencer noticed how your hands were twitching, like they were itching to move. And how you were talking to yourself, almost sounding like you were…counting?
Even though he doesn’t want to disturb you, Spencer moves to the seat next to you. You don’t seem to mind though, you’re too focused.
Spencer doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he pulls out a Rubik’s Cube. He can tell that you’re wondering what he’s doing, since you stopped counting.
“This was one of the first puzzles I’ve solved.” Spencer tells you. “It took me a few times to solve. But when I finally did, I still found it…therapeutic.”
There is a pause between the both of you. Until you speak.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” You explain. “I mean, I was. But I forgot my headphones. And I’m not the best on planes, especially with the turbulence.”
There was a pause between them. Then, Spencer offers the cube to you. He’s just holding it out for you to take. Finally, you do. “Thanks,” you say, fidgeting with the Rubik’s Cube.
“Anytime” he says, smiling. Smiling because he knows what it’s like.
***
After your first few months, you felt as though you were finally apart of the BAU team. Normally, it takes you a long time to be able to trust new people. But, you were proud to call the people in the team your friends.
“Okay! Who wants to go over to Rossi’s for dinner tonight?” Derek says in the bullpen after another night of paperwork.
“Oh, I’m in” said Emily.
“Will’s watching the kids tonight, so count me in too.” JJ added while packing up for the day.
“Oh! I want to go too! Who doesn’t want the Italian Stallion to make them dinner?” Penelope comes out of no where.
Everybody pauses in the bullpen and looks at Penelope.
“The-“ Rossi starts. “The Italian Stallion?”
Everyone bursts out laughing. Even Hotch smiles a little. Penelope looks mortified. She clearly didn’t see Rossi enter the room.
“Rossi, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t-“ Rossi interrupted Penelope.
“Garcia, It’s fine. I know you were just joking.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Rossi then adds. “Plus, I kind of like it.”
The laughter starts again.
“What! Don’t laugh at me! I’m not giving you folks free dinner for nothing. Don’t make me second guess myself.” Rossi says with a smile, even though he’s trying to be serious.
“Okay!” JJ says. “So, everyone’s going?”
The team looks at each other in agreement.
“You two lovebirds going too?” Derek asks you and Spencer, with a smirk on his face.
“Hm?” You and Spencer tear away from your conversation, and look at Derek. All eyes are on you both.
“God! Can you both just make a move already, or do I have to shoot you both with an arrow or something?”
“Shoot us with an arrow?” Spencer says. He looks at you, and you look just as confused. “Why?”
Everyone exhales an exhausted sigh, mentally cursing everything in this situation.
“She means if you guys don’t start dating, she’s gonna have to play Cupid to get you guys together.” JJ explains.
“Ohhh…” You both say at the same time. Blushing. Hard.
“I mean, come on! How can you guys not see it?” Penelope exclaims.
“Trust me. We do.” Emily joins in.
You look at the rest of the team. They all just kind of nod in agreement. You look at Spencer and he just kind of smiles at you. You both can’t help but laugh quietly.
“What is so-“
That’s when full laughs start to erupt between the both of you. Everyone looks around at each other, confused. Except Hotch…
“I’m sorry-“ Spencer says still laughing with you. “This is just a little funny.”
“What’s ‘a little funny’?” Derek says, clearly trying to figure out what is going on.
“It’s just-“ Your laughter is slowly coming down. “We didn’t know when to tell you guys…”
“Tell us what??” Penelope is trying not to explode over this suspense.
You and Spencer glance at each other and join hands.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD!!!” Penelope squeals. Very loudly. “Really???”
You both nod, smiling so wide.
“Well, well, well…” Derek says patting Spencer on the back. “Proud of you, Pretty Boy.”
“Finally!” Emily says.
“That’s what I’m saying.” JJ agrees.
“Wait.” Emily turns to Rossi and Hotch, who are both smirking. “Did they know about this?”
A pause enters the conversation.
“Really?” Penelope whines. “I wanted to be the first to know!”
“Babygirl, It’s okay.” Derek huffs out a laugh.
“Hey, Hotch only knew because he’s their boss.” Rossi explains. “How I knew? Well… I can’t tell you all my secrets, can I?”
“Remind me never to underestimate you, old man.” Emily pokes Rossi in the shoulder.
“But really, we are happy for you guys.” Hotch says to you and Spencer. Then, he looks to you and says “You should come by to dinner with us. Consider it a welcome to the family.”
You look around at the team, then look at Spencer who is looking at you right back. “Okay. I will.”
And, so, you did.
___
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid criminal minds#criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine
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𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 You and Spencer start learning what it’s like to live together as the chase for the killer continues.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 mentions of overthinking (lots of it), mention of absent parents, mentions of scream 6 (no spoilers tho), unpopular scream 6 opinions, too much fluff tbh, nightmares, mentions of sleep paralysis
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.2k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i’m literally so sorry for this being so behind schedule, im so stumped with college and shit but here it is!
𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
You remember going home that night and thinking a lot— maybe too much, if you were being frank.
A lot was still on your mind. Between the case, and the whole murderer that was killing old acquaintance's—you also had a husband now apparently.
Two days had passed and the case was still at works. Spencer lived in an apartment complex, which wasn't favorable for the goal of the mission. You however, lived in a nice suburban house your parents left you as a 'sorry for being absent' gift. Very close to where you used to go to school, which was crucial. It was perfectly comfortable— a little too big for you to be living there by yourself, which left space for you to feel a little lonely many times— but spacious nonetheless.
So with that, and lots of discussion, it was decided that Spencer would accommodate himself at your house, to make the whole marriage part, well— believable.
Cameras had been installed all across the outside of your house, ensuring there'd be vigilance throughout the days to come. Hotch made it incredibly clear, that you and Spencer's safety was top priority, so taking precaution wasn't something that the team was going to take lightly. Hotch had previously sat you and Spencer down, just to make sure you knew what you were getting into, the basic guidelines you'd have to follow and so on.
You and Spencer didn't speak much as the plan progressed during the following days and you didn't know why. You knew that you had been busy with your own things and he had been busy with his own, but it still filled you with dread. You were dwelling wether or wether not he was truly comfortable with the whole 'fake married couple' and not having time to sit down and actually talk to him about this whole thing was messing with your head.
'Just keep an eye out for anything suspicious and try to act like a married couple—'
'As if that was so hard for them.'
That's what Hotch had told you and what Morgan decided to pipe in, causing you to nearly toss the book you had with you at him. Was it normal that you had been dwelling on what Morgan had said relentlessly since then?
You didn't fully understand why the whole concept filled you with an unexplainable unsteadiness. It felt similar to anxiety but it wasn't as dreadful. It felt like something was lingering across the tip of your tongue, begin to be released, but your brain couldn't actually process any of it.
Spencer had been taking this whole situation just as lightly as you were— which wasn't at all light. His mind running impossibly faster than usual, and thoughts forcing themselves in and out of his head. A few of his things had already been moved into your house, such as spare clothing among other stuff.
Tonight, however, you're mind was silent for the first time in these past two days. You sat on your couch, digging your back into the softness of its pillows, dressed with a fluffy pair of pajama pants and a white t-shirt that fell over your body comfortably. You had a box of ramen in your hands, and Spencer sat just a little further from you on the opposite side of the couch, also in his pajamas.
The two of you had been taken completely off guard, seeing the other in something so 'casual'. Sure, you had been best friends for a while, but somehow you had never seen each other in anything other than your work attire. Seeing him in nothing but a plain grey T-shirt and plaid pants felt almost intimate.
He held his box of ramen in one hand and a fork in the other, reminding you of his inability to ever learn how to use chopsticks, despite your attempts at teaching him.
You tugged closer at the blanket you were wrapped in and said with a mouth full of noodles."Easily the best scream movie since the original."
"In every way is it better than all the sequels. The opening scene is brilliant and the way they did it was so scary and intense—" You beamed, enthusiasm radiating off your every word as the end credits to Scream 6 began rolling.
One of you and Spencers preferred past-times was watching any movie, franchise or series you could get your hands on and either rip the movie to shreds or praise it as if it were a god given gift. You just finished watching the last Scream movie and funny enough, you both were disagreeing on the cinematographic decisions.
Spencer rolled his eyes, jabbing his fork into the nearly empty box of noodles. "Please, even after the last time I saw this I still think the this is one of the slowest pacing films known to man."
"You could actually tell this was the longest movies in the franchise," He shrugged. Your jaw slacked as an annoyed groan left your lips.
"Spencer, it is not slow-paced— are you kidding me?" He deadpanned at you, clearly disagreeing with your opinion. "Everything was timed perfectly! I mean, the kills were brutal but even so, they felt realistic and made me believe that those things could actually happen."
"They do actually happen," He said, reminding you of the reality of your job. Your lips pursed in thought, realizing he had a point as you looked over at the TV screen.
"Touché,”
You poked at your box silently. You didn't usually mind silences, much less with Spencer, but right now you were realizing that a somewhat tense silence had dwelled upon you two. You felt your nerves begin to bundle up and you caught yourself opening your mouth to speak.
"So uh—" One more poke at the bottom of the carton box. "I talked to Claire today,"
"Hmm? What'd she say?" Spencer's gaze and entire attention was on you in the matter of seconds and it made you weirdly nervous to speak.
"Well," You reached over, setting the now empty box onto the table. You leaned back into the couch, looking over at him as he copied your movements effortlessly. "She was telling me how she was planning on throwing a ten year reunion, but with everything going on, she cancelled it."
“Claire always took matters of those stupid school events into her own hands, but she didn’t know how tone deaf it was of her to throw it ever with everything that’s going on,”
Your speaking started off as a nervous ramble, attempting to fill the silence, but you soon found yourself easing into the nature of the conversation. Spencer listening attentively, shifting his weight to the side every once in a while.
"I told her that she should go ahead with it anyways. Gave her a hell of a list of pros and somehow she agreed to look into the possibility of organizing it,"
You recalled your conversation with Claire easily. When the option for a high school reunion was up, you remembered the reality of your mission with Spencer, and knew it was the perfect way of getting you and him on whoever was attacking radar. She asked why you were so enthusiastic about wanting to throw together the reunion, given how you weren't present at the one year reunion— or the five year.
"She was kind of apprehensive, which I don't blame her," You laughed at yourself and laid your head on the back of your couch, looking up at the ceiling. "I— uhm, told her it was because I wanted to officially introduce you as my husband and she got all, excited,"
You felt yourself growing nervous as you looked over at Spencer. "Excited?"
There was a teasing glint in his voice as he narrowed his eyes at you. He also laid his head on the back of your couch, still gazing over at you. It made your stomach weirdly twist and suddenly you felt your cheeks hot to the touch. You smiled and narrowed your eyes as well.
"Yes, excited," You looked down at your lap. You were getting to that point where you weren't thinking straight and your lips moved along as if they had a mind of their own. “She said she knew it all long and you know the typical 'called it' which everyone seems to love saying lately,"
“Saying what?” You looked back up at Spencer and silence dwelled upon you two. You shrugged and opened your mouth to speak, but was shocked when nothing came out. Both of your growing smiles began to falter as he tilted his head back just slightly, watching you intently. You knew something was lingering in his head— finding out what was the hard part.
"—It's uhm," You sucked in a deep breath and sat up quickly. "I'm gonna—"
You wordlessly dusted off your pants, tumbling slightly on your feet. You grabbed both now empty ramen boxes and waltzed over to your kitchen.
"Need help?" Spencer shot from over the couch, standing up and making his way over to the kitchen behind you.
"It's fine Spence," You cleared your throat, throwing both boxes into the trash and the fork into the sink. You turned, seeing Spencer now leaning against the fridge with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
Your eyes felt droopy, which meant it probably was late, and the two of you did have work tomorrow. Somehow knowing it was late impulsed your body to let out an involuntary yawn. Spencer smiled at you.
"I left a few extra blankets on the edge of my bed cause I know it gets cold—" You started. Spencer pushed himself off of the fridge and looked at you quizzically.
"What?" He asked. You stopped as you noticed his severely puzzled expression, looking at him and furrowing your brows.
You explained once again, completely lost as to what the problem was. “Blankets..? You know those things you use for—"
"You're expecting me to sleep in your bed?"
You blinked. "I changed the sheets before you got here if it's the whole germ shit your worried about,"
"What? No, it's not—" He said before shaking his head. "We're at your house, I'm supposed to sleep on the couch."
Of course. You hadn't thought about the fact that Spencer was going to be severely against you staying on the couch. In various situations he had put all of his comforts out of the way for you, so of course he wasn't going to let you sleep on the couch.
"Do not fight me on this because I swear," You pointed a warning finger towards him, taking a step near him. "My couch is amazing, if you couldn't already tell. I've got the TV as well, which I do not have in my room,"
He rolled his eyes at the amusement in your voice. But shook his head firmly. "You take the room, I'll take the couch—"
"Spencer!" You groaned, throwing your head back. You reached out and grabbed his wrists with both of your hands, looking up at him firmly. "Please,"
His lips pressed into a tight line, eyes finding yours as he looked down, seeing your lips tightly dressed with a firm pout as you attempted to give him your best puppy eyes.
"If you sleep on the couch that means I set up the whole light projector thingy for nothing," His head tilted.
"What?" He laughed at you, fully with endearment.
"I got you this stupid little galaxy projector thing off of Ebay, so the room wouldn't be pitch black."
Spencer stopped and looked down at you. He could practically heard his heart explode inside his chest, which was the best way of describing whatever it is he felt whenever you did stuff like it this. Stuff that showed that you cared, that you listened and payed attention.
When he suddenly looked away from you, incredibly close to caving, you tugged his wrist closer. "Please?"
He sighed, looking down at you. "Fine,"
It was imposible for Spencer to say no to you. It always has been. Wether it was something as stupid as stopping by a gas station on the way home from work to get your favorite snack or for him to give you some company while you visited the offices printer, he always found himself surrendering to your pleading look.
"I promise it's comfortable," You reassured, noticing how he was still apprehensive of letting you sleep on the couch in your own house. He sighed once again, but this time tugging you slightly by the arm into him. He wrapped his arms around you as your arms mindlessly wrapped around his torso. He buried his face into your neck and let out a gush of air he couldn't tell he was holding as his body relaxed under your touch.
With everything going on, the two of you had forgotten just how peaceful it was to be around one another. You had to remind yourself that the two of you were in this together, as much as you believed it was something you were handling alone.
"We're okay right?" He asked, realeasing you from his grip to look down at you. You pulled away, finding the same worry you had been feeling these past few days flooding his eyes.
"Yeah Spence," You gave him a small smile and a reassuring squeeze. He hugged you once more, trying to hold onto the feeling as you rubbed his back.
"We should probably head to sleep—" You said, pulling away from him as he hesitantly let you go, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Yeah," He nodded looking down at you one last time.
It all happened in the matter of seconds, and having been woken up so suddenly, you didn't fully grasp what was going on.
It started with a scream. The sound caused you to shoot up from your position in on the couch, still groggy with sleep. The second scream that came made your blood run cold as you realized the scream belonged to none other than Spencer.
Anxiety immediately clawed your throat and you truly felt like you couldnt breathe. You threw the blanket off of yourself and shot up from the couch. You held your breath while your body unconsciously dragged you towards your room in a panicked frenzy.
Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay
You still weren't processing anything that was going on when you pushed the door open fully expecting yourself to find the worst.
It took you a second that no one had broken in like you had thought. Spencer was unharmed but slashing back and forward in his sleep.
He's having a nightmare
You rushed over to his side, sitting on the edge of the bed and gripping his shoulder as you tried to get him to wake up.
"Spencer!" You shook his shoulder as he groaned and mumbled inaudibly in his sleep. With one final firm shake at his shoulder, his eyes shot open.
He sat up in a rush, desperately looking over the lightly lit room while his chest heaved up and down madly. His skin felt hot at the touch and his hair was all over the place. You could even see a few pieces that had been matted onto his forehead due to the sweat.
"Hey," You cooed, eyes laced with sleep and worry. His own eyes found yours desperately, breathing still labored. "Can you breath for me?"
He nodded wordlessly. Your hands snaked down to his, gripping his clammy palm in your own. You rubbed your thumb across his knuckles gently as his breathing finally slowed down. He dragged his free hand across his face and let out one final shaky breath.
You didnt ask anything at first. You just sat with him in silence— partially because you knew what it felt like, and also because you wanted him calm before saying anything.
Spencer was used to the nightmares. He got them when there was something that was on his mind, and he usually just slept through them, unable to wake up. It sometimes felt like he was stuck in them, and not being able to wake up from them was hell.
When you caught how he looked down, eyes full of panic and dread, you squeezed his hand. "It was just a nightmare Spence,"
He nodded, trying to believe you. You weren't going to pry, or ask him to tell you about what his nightmare was about. "I- I know,"
"...Do you get those often?" You asked after a moment of silence. He shrugged.
"Not necessarily, only when I'm stressed or worried,"
"Can I help in anyway?" Spencer looked up at you, squeezing your hand reassuringly as he shook his head.
"No—" He didn't want to be yet something else you had to worry about because just with the way you were looking at him he could tell you did— you always did. "No, I'm okay,"
You looked at him, trying to get him to crack under your gaze because you knew he wasn't fine. You didn't need him telling you the details, but you did want him telling you what you could do to help— and right now he wasn't going to because that's how stubborn Spencer was.
"You scared the shit out of me," You said, voice nearly breaking in a yawn as you rubbed your eyes with your free hand.
"Sorry," He said. You looked up at him and then reached over and tapped the screen of his phone that sat on the nightstand, reading the white numbers spell out four in the morning.
"You sure I can't help in anyway?" It felt utterly wrong to you to just leave after seeing how he had been paralyzed in his sleep by whatever severe fear his nightmare caused.
He remained silent. With a huff, you let go of his hand and crawled onto the opposite side of the bed wordlessly. Once you had laid on your back, you reached over, grabbing the grey blanket that sat on the end of your bed and pulled it up towards your body, laying into the pillows that sat behind your back.
Once you were accommodated, you looked over at Spencer, who was looking back at you, confusion painting his features. You shrugged at him.
"Can't a girl sleep in her own bed?" He rolled his eyes and with a small laugh, laid back down. He turned onto his side and glanced at the starry lit ceiling.
The roof now looked similar to that of a galaxy. The dark room was airbrushed in a deep blue and hints of purple, as stars circled and glided across the ceiling in a slow pace. The room resembled a nebula, and it was actually pretty fascinating.
"The lights are pretty," You stated, looking at the roof in awe.
"They are," Spencer agreed. You laid down further into the bed and searched for Spencer's hand. He flattened it out, granting access for yours to intertwine itself in his.
"Is this okay?" You asked.
With a single reassuring squeeze, he answered. "Yeah,"
You closed your eyes, letting sleep begin to consume you again as you laid far from Spencer's body, but still connected by the simple touch of your intertwined hands.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @yondiii i @r-3dlips @moonchildohh @rubyirene @sp3ncelle @alisyacsa @pleasantwitchgarden @landooscurls @chonkybonky @hiireadstuff @stillhere197 @iluvreading73
#fanfic#fic rec#fiction#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer#spencer x reader#spencer x you#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#spencer x oc#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spence#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x fem!readr#criminal minds x you#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fluff#fluff
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