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spencersmagic · 2 years

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zygomycota - spencer reid

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prompt: "did you love her? the woman you slept with. did you love her?"

-> we already spoke but thank u so much for requesting it! (idk if yo u wanna be tagged so not tagging just in case). this was a lot of fun to write <3

couple: spencer reid x fem reader

category: a lot of angst, hurt/comfort. happy ending :)

warnings: mentions of injury, cheating, bacteria (if that's a trigger), addiction, emotional neglect (lmk if i missed anything).

***

To say Spencer’s life had been difficult was an understatement.

Being the youngest recruit in the FBI, the babyof the team, Spencer had to become as tough-skinned as humanly possible. Under all those cardigan sweaters and mismatched socks, Spencer had grown to deal with ableist insults from the local police, and superiors undermining his ability. He understood what he was going to endure in his life, and in the FBI, and he rose to the challenge – simply because it’s what he does.

He had felt his world crumble, his lungs imploding when facing the death of those he loved and, in losing them, he found himself missing parts of himself he would never get back. He had lost way too much. The knot in his stomach had tightened and tightened, now a permanent resident in his throat.

It just wasn’t fair.

But Spencer knew this. He knew that to be the person he wanted to be, he would have to become exceptional at developing a second, stronger layer, incapable of breaking until he got back to his room, hid under the covers, and allowed himself to break down. His emotions always felt like a burden, like they were created to interrupt the moments when he needed to stay strong. It took a long time for him to come to terms with the things about him that he called imperfections, such as his ability to feel so much. Imperfections which are, in reality, what make him such a beautiful person. It was also one of the areas Y/N and Spencer had to work on the most.

***

Y/N wasn’t one to shrink in the face of a challenge.

What’s more, she would argue that it was the very trait of hers that got her so far. The career of a woman in the FBI was bound to have some setbacks, after all. Her whole life, she had experienced resistance from the people who were supposed to support her and lift her up. She had been shamed and assaulted, and everything in-between. She had learned to not take any shit from anybody, no matter how much she wanted to keep quiet.

The phrase you can’t fight fire with fire comes to mind when you think of her. Her kindness didn’t go unpunished by the cruel world that surrounded her in her job, suffocating her until she goes out, but it was one of those things she had learned to live with. Spitefulness hurts people - she was sure of it.

But understanding hurts, too, which was something she never even considered.

At least until now, three months into her boyfriend’s repeated behavior of neglect, hiding, sneaking out at late hours of the night, and hushed calls with an anonymous voice, who remained unnamed no matter how many times she tried to ask. She justified her boyfriend’s behavior, allowing herself to hide inside a cocoon of emotional neglect thinly veiled with lies, at least for a while, until she would inevitably explode.

And Spencer knew she would. At one point, he almost counted on her exploding. Anything to stop the guilt that was growing inside of his chest, poisoning his every breath. He would compare it to zygomycota, in that they destroy what was once full of life and hope, and they decompose it, turning it into nothing. Eliminating any chance of a fresh new breath - one full of excitement and love and the smile on her face when he would gift her tulips.

There’s a limit to how understanding he could be with himself. At one point, the image of himself they had worked so hard to build up, to repair from the repeated abuse in his childhood, felt lost - an illusion. Another of his magic tricks, designed to deceive those around him while still knowing the magic would end up fading. And all that would be left would be him.

There’s a limit to how understanding he could be with himself. And that limit was crossed, snapped apart leaving him with no sense of direction or purpose, when he arrived home at his usual 3 am, a time he knew Y/N would be asleep and far away from any chance of getting hurt by him. He had done enough in the past nights to know he couldn’t expect to be loved by her.

But, God, he wished he was worthy of her love. He wished he hadn’t messed up as he did. That way, maybe, he could find solace in her arms after a bad case. Maybe he wouldn’t have to run to another woman for comfort, the guilt washing over him like waves slowly crushing anything in their path against the mountains.

Ironically, that’s how he felt as he walked in and saw Y/N’s silhouette under the soft light of her computer screen.

Unsure of what to do, Spencer shut the door, placing his belongings in the closet meticulously. He reached down to undo his laces, struggling to get down after his knee injury. His fingers played with the laces aimlessly as he looked at his girlfriend, trying to figure her out. Her back was turned to the door, leaning back and towards the side of the couch. In the past couple of months, she had carried on with her life, hoping Spencer would turn to her at some point. Y/N thought their relationship was stable enough that they could talk to each other about anything. Now, she was closing her eyes briefly, hugging the pillows of the soft couch and imagining she is cuddling with Spencer.

Her eyes stung as she opened them, looking back at the screen through her dried eyes. An episode of Gilmore Girls was on, though she couldn’t tell which one. The comforting show had been on repeat in her computer, distracting her from her real-life problems with the soft whining of the girls.

As Spencer stood to walk towards her, he recognized the show. They had watched a few episodes of it together before the incident, but she probably realized it was hopeless to wait for him to join her.

Who he didn’t recognize was his girlfriend. She felt foreign to him. Her face was sunken, and her gaze was unfocused. As he walked around the couch, he took in her state. Her computer screen shone softly on her face, puffy and irritated at the scratching of the rough pillows against her cheeks. Her eyes shifted to look at him, her expression unaltered, as if she saw through him. In a way, he almost hoped she would. Selfishly enough, it would be easier for him to face her.

He parted his lips, stupidly fumbling for the right words. Apparently, there are no words good enough for when you’re lying to the woman you promised the world to, so he settled for willful ignorance.

“H-How come you’re still up?” he looked into her soulful eyes. He watched her trembling hands, an action he knew came from her excessive tea drinking when she stays up at night to study, as they reached to take off her headphones, looking down.

She took a deep breath, shutting her eyes momentarily, trying to stabilize her body’s shaking.

“Do you love her?” she shuts her computer.

“W-what?” he asks, dumbfounded. In the weeks he had gone through every single scenario, every nexus parting from the point she found out about his deception, this one hadn’t even crossed his mind. Y/N could only feel her anger bubbling. Anger at Spencer, for thinking she’s stupid enough not to notice. Anger at herself. Spencer had found solace in someone else. She felt ridiculous for waiting for him to get tired of her.

She exhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing at him.

“The woman you’re sleeping with, Spencer. Do you love her?” he stood still, looking at Y/N, who had found the strength within herself to stand up and walk up to him. He had never seen her act this hostile with him.

Spencer didn’t know what he had done, but he knew there was some explanation for what was happening. He scoured his memory for an idea of what was happening, for an ounce of logic in this chaos.

“Did you hear me?” she raised her voice, no longer able to control herself. “Do you love her? Or is she like me? Someone who waits on the sidelines for an ounce of attention, of comfort, only to wake up to a cold, empty bed” she broke down, tears streaming down her face for, what felt to her, like the hundredth time in the past few weeks, unable to contain her anger for another second. The memory of the past weeks hung heavy on her heart, pulling her down. In fact, he could’ve sworn he saw her knees go weak.

Instead, she remained strong as she watched her boyfriend, the man she loved so deeply, stumble over his words. His eyes were red, and he kept rubbing them.

“Y/N”, he mumbled. “Y/N I don’t know what I did. I-I wish I did, but I d-don’t”. His poor attempt at excusing himself makes him understand her better than ever. After everything they’ve gone through… If he’s hurt his girlfriend and has had the audacity to forget how he did so, he knows he deserves to lose her.

“You really think I’m that stupid, huh? That much inferior to you?” she stared right into his eyes, inches away from his face, in a way that made him terrified of what he had done to her. He didn’t recognize the woman in front of her.

He had completely broken her.

“The woman you’re sleeping with, Spencer. Does she at least know?”

Tears streamed down his cheeks. Everything was too confusing. Overwhelming, even. How had this happened?

“I’m-“ his own sobs interrupted him, the hope for another chance pulverizing, “I- I’m not s-sleeping with anybody, Y/N”.

Y/N reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. “How can you expect me to believe that?”. Under the soft glow of her screen, he hadn’t realized just how tired she looked. Had she even slept in the past few weeks? He could barely remember.

Spencer pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears.

“Pen sent me these”, her gaze was dull as she turned her phone. “Four outgoing calls to a number registered as Sandra in the past week, all of them well after we’d gone to bed”.

Spencer is a scientist. He knows it wasn’t possible, but at that moment, he could’ve sworn his heart had plummeted to his feet, yet he’d never felt his own pulse as strong as he did at that moment. His mouth went dry.

“I’m sleeping in the spare bedroom. I’ll grab my things and be gone by morning”.

Gone. That’s all Spencer hears. And it’s like his body has gone on autopilot. He takes a step forward, engulfing her between his arms, the tears leaking onto her hair.

At that point, she hated him – she truly did. He had betrayed her trust, lied to her and treated her like she was nothing. Gone, indeed, was the boy she had fallen in love with, the clumsy bookworm who was too scared to talk to her when she joined the team.

But, in his embrace, she allowed herself one last touch, the loneliness of waking up in a cold bed weighing on her. The lover in her, the romantic, wanted to stay in his arms forever. Especially when the body of the man she loved shook so violently, sputtering broken apologies and incoherent syllabled between his sobs, as he lowered himself to his knees, hugging her waist.

As he cradled her body, holding onto her as if she was the last breath he could take before drowning, she felt the need to hug his head, brushing his tears away. As she pushes his arms away, they fall to his sides in defeat, and she can’t stop herself before pressing one last kiss on his forehead.

His head tilted upwards, his eyes glossy and red, and his cheeks pale, a soft pout decorating his cherry lips. “I-I- “ he tries to understand, he tries to explain, but he only shuts his eyes in frustration as she runs her wet fingers over the lines on his forehead.

And with that, she leaves him overwhelmed and confused on the floor. He wasn’t heartbroken, though. He was certain she had taken his heart to the foreign bedroom, filled with promises of a future, and empty of memories of him.

She had been numb for so long that she truly believed she would be able to fall asleep tonight, but all she could do was try to listen at Spencer crying and speaking to himself. She had only seen him like that once.

With a hand against the doorknob, she was doing everything in her power not to succumb to him. Nothing about the past weeks’ walks in the park, and innocent kisses on the subway, and origami figures he had been placing on her desk meant anything anymore. Not when he was running to another woman in the nights.

If there’s one thing she had learned in her time as a woman in the bureau was to stand her ground. Her heart broke with every sob and thud of his body onto the floor, but she also knew that the man who had promised her a future, a family, and an eternity of shared experiences had turned his back onto her for a quick fuck. Just the thought of it made her sick.

“Y-Y/N” she hears the soft knocking against the door, and she feels her whole world crumble again at the thought of having to look into his eyes.

Her fingers surround the doorknob, shaking fingers questioning their journey as she remembers, once again, what he’s done. She’s not sure she could ever stop thinking about it.

But her body knows what it wants. She can doubt and worry and try to separate herself as much as possible from the cold loneliness of the past few days, but she cannot stop herself from turning that doorknob and see him for the last time again.

“Unless you’re here t-“ she is interrupted by the movement of his hand in front of her.

“This belongs to you” he states. And that’s when she saw the blue, engraved plastic coin. “One month”.

Her face fell. “W-what?”

Spencer was adamant. He shook his head, a few strands of hair falling over his face. “You’ve made me realize that I am not a collection of the worst things I’ve done in my life; that I can be better. You taught me how to be”. The hand between them shook involuntarily as his red eyes welled up, again. “Do you remember the case in Nebraska?” she nodded, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth as he continued, “I relapsed. I-“ she gasped audibly, interrupting him. He could practically feel the pain she was feeling, and it was driving him mad. Spencer couldn’t believe he had done this to her again.

He shut his eyes forcefully before continuing. “I couldn’t believe I had let you down again, and I couldn’t trust myself again – not after how I was last time, so I got a sponsor”, he watched her face fall, putting the pieces together.

“Sandra” she whispered. “Spencer, I’m so sor-“ she reached out to touch him, to hug him, she needed to make sure he was real, but he took a step back, standing his ground.

“I know you don’t trust me, and after lying to you for the past few weeks, I know I’m not deserving of your trust. But you’ve taught me to not give up, so this is yours”.

He turned to leave when he felt her fingers around his arm, turning him and pulling him into a hug, and he crumbled like a wall around her. His arms snaked under her shoulders, burying his face in the crook of her neck, falling apart. His sobs were loud, knees weak, pulling them both to the floor.

“I’m s-so so sorry, love. I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I started spiraling and I-“ she interrupted him with a sloppy, innocent kiss. They break out of the kiss, his sobs turned to tears she was desperately trying to dry with the pads of her fingers on his face, an everlasting reminder that he wasn’t alone.

“You’ve always been deserving of my trust, Spence. I can’t believe you would think otherwise. It’s just-“she sighed, her body releasing the pain of the past weeks with a shudder and a touch. “It’s been hard lately… with us. And when Pen mentioned your calls, I realized you were drifting away, and it hurt, Spencer” she watched his eyebrows knit and his mouth twist, biting the inside of his cheek. “Of course, it hurt. But I’m always here for you. You’ve made mistakes, and I’ve certainly made my own, we are in this together, do you hear me?” her eyes pierced his own as she waited for him to respond.

“You relapsing will never be a cause for me to break up with you.” Her thumbs drew circles on his cheeks as he slowly relaxed. “I hope you know that”.

“I do”, he mumbled, shifting into her chest. He felt another apology bubbling in his throat, urging to come out.

To say Spencer’s life was difficult would be an understatement. Like many around him, he had shoved his feelings away and underground, ignoring them. To him, they were a nuisance – a bigger handicap than any other circumstance in his life. And throughout the years he had done everything in his power to rise to the occasion – to beat the odds: as a child of divorce and an unstable household, with the IQ of a genius, he had quickly learned from his extensive research that the chances of him being successful were slim.

In his many years of trying to seem enough, he forgot he had to believe it, too.

But what a waste – to make yourself feel nothing so as to not feel anything.

***

i haven't posted in six months and i'm feeling hella weird about this one. is it great? is it horrible? let me know here <3

//tags aren't working for some reason?? tumblr truly is the worst

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