#reid x y/n
Text
Devils Roll the Dice…
Description: A new recruit to the BAU catches Reid’s eye. Unfortunately for the both of them, she has a past with someone very close to him. Are they willing to keep secrets just to keep one another? (TWO-PART MINISERIES)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
Warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual references/content (i’ll accept 16+ because its definitely not more than pg-13 material but writing anything sexy makes me feel weird if i know teenagers are reading it)
Word Count: 4k
I took a deep breath, looking in the mirror. I knew we were meeting the new recruit today, and just the thought of it exhausted me. Not that I didn’t like meeting new people. I just hated the break in routine.
We had a concrete team. Kate had already joined. We didn’t need anyone else coming in and messing up a very new rhythm we’d found with each other.
I finished tying my tie, pressing it down, and preemptively steeling myself against the new person. Probably some guy who didn’t know the difference between a tyrannical and enforcing sadist. Half of the students I’d met in recent guest lectures only wanted to go into the field because they’d listened too many crime podcasts anyways.
I walked into the bullpen, taking my seat as usual, ready to turn that cold shoulder at the first misstep of whoever this mystery recruit was. Unfortunately, I felt anything but cold when Hotch called our attention to the figure standing in his office doorway. He stood partially in front of her before he allowed her to stand right next to him as he introduced us. My eyes locked onto her at an embarrassing rate, and I felt far more embarrassed when she caught me and flashed a smirk.
She was anything but shy as a newbie, and for some reason that thrilled me. She wasn’t afraid to get into conversation with the team immediately as she unpacked her things at her new desk. She wasn’t afraid to tell Garcia everything she wanted to know. Much to my surprise, she wasn’t afraid to send me the cutest smiles every time she caught my eyes on her.
“Hey,” she said, walking up to me as I stood in the kitchenette.
Truthfully, I needed the time alone because of her. I couldn’t stop looking at her, and it was becoming a problem considering I was supposed to be doing work. She was just so… Different. She was sweet and funny and so attractive it made my mouth dry up.
“Hi,” I said after a moment. “Coffee?”
She nodded, holding out her mug. I filled it up from the pot in my hands after I topped off my own. She blew on it, looking up at me with big eyes. I watched her, not realizing how long it had been until she broke eye contact, a smile settling onto her face.
“You’re gonna keep watching me blow on my coffee?”
I opened my mouth to say something, but fell quiet when she smiled again. She moved the mug from her face.
“Got any advice for me with the BAU?”
I swallowed. “Uh, you came from Intelligence, right?”
She nodded, brows raised. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
“I was listening earlier. You said it to JJ.”
“Alright, so I know one fact about you other than the eidetic memory,” she said with a chuckle.
I smiled softly. “Right. Sorry, I haven’t been very talkative today.”
“That’s okay,” she said, giving me a reassuring smile. “I’ve tried really hard to get into this unit, so I don’t plan on leaving any time soon. We’ll have time to get to know one another.”
I nodded quickly. “Uh, so, advice. Um, I guess you should know this team is a lot like a family. We really care about each other, and we’re pretty close. Especially us field agents.”
“Good to know,” she nodded thoughtfully. “If you have any more wisdom floating around in that big ol’ brain of yours, let me know. I already heard Penelope calling you ‘boy wonder’, so I’d love to see you live up to that reputation.”
She finished off her sentence with a wink, turning away from me and rejoining the others who still gathered around her desk. She was shiny and new, and everyone wanted to know about her. I couldn’t blame them. I’d love to know as much as I could get my hands on.
One thing I learned very quickly is that she had a habit of flirting.
At first, I thought it was a general behavior she exhibited towards everyone. Then, after some keen observation I came to a terrible and exciting realization: she really only flirted with me.
I think most of it was due to the fact that she just liked to see me flustered. She could make it happen very easily, too. All it took was a sly, under-the-breath comment in passing and my face was turning red.
She’d smile at me, enjoying the tint in my cheeks. I’d stare back at her, just glad to see her smile.
Four weeks in and I was entirely wrapped around her finger.
She wasn’t shy about flirting on cases either, though she was always really good about making sure the only thing anyone ever saw was me being a total dork.
I almost never tried flirting back. I was pretty terrible at it anyways. But there were occasions when I’d make an attempt.
We were working on a case that leaned heavily on the geographical profile, meaning: I spent the entire case in the precinct. I finally cracked it after a few days, and the team found themselves at a farm. One of my least favorite places for a case to be, leaving me very thankful that I wasn’t along for the search and rescue. I really only went to the farm because everyone else was there.
By the time that I actually got to the crime scene, the unsub had already been apprehended. So, I stood near the cars, waiting on the others to come back. It was several minutes before I heard Hotch and Derek walking up and talking to one another. I turned as the rest of the team followed several steps behind. Y/N came into view last, and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh as she walked closer.
She gave me an exasperated smile, throwing her arms up as I took her in. She was covered in dried mud, clearly having taken a fall somewhere gross.
“I tripped and fell while doing absolutely nothing. I feel like you, all clumsy,” she joked, laughing.
I smiled, looking her up and down.
“How are you still pretty covered in dirt?”
“You can’t do that,” she said quickly, looking over her shoulder. “Not right now, anyways.”
I scrunched up my face. She had been much more forwardly flirtatious on cases before now. I couldn’t fathom how this was any different, especially since all I did was make a flirty comment. I guess my facial expression could’ve conveyed more. I seemed to have a hard time concealing my feelings for her when she looked at me the way she did.
“Why?”
She looked behind her again, like she was keeping an eye out for someone. But the only person there was Morgan. Maybe she was afraid of him telling on us for flirting on the job. But he was the one that relentlessly flirted with everyone else. Why would he be coming after us? Maybe she didn’t know that well enough.
“Morgan flirts with people all the time. He’s not going to—”
“Spencer,” she groaned, grabbing my arm and pulling me behind the SUV.
I furrowed my brow again. “What?”
“If I tell you something, you have to promise not to get weird about it.”
“Get… Weird?”
“Like, don’t be all freaked out,” she clarified.
“Okay,” I said, unsure where this was heading.
She cleared her throat, stealing one more glance at him. She looked back at me, chewing her lip with a coy smile. I had a feeling that now wasn’t the time, but I blushed, unable to stop myself from fully taking her in. Luckily, my upstairs brain started working again just in time to give all my attention to her as she started speaking.
“I’m sure this will make things a little awkward,” she stated, sighing softly, “but, he and I… Uh, Derek and I, we have a history.”
I quirked a brow. “Oh? How?”
She stared at me, expecting me to take a hint that I was most certainly not picking up on.
“We… We were involved. Romantically.”
My brows shot up. “Oh.”
“Yeah. It was only like five months, really, but,” she shrugged. “That happened. Hence why it’s been a little awkward between us.”
She said that bit like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but I hadn’t been any the wiser about it. Maybe it was just another case of me being a little more oblivious than some of my coworkers about behaviors that didn’t have to do with the job. Maybe I was just too enamored with her to pay attention to how she interacted with our coworker.
“I didn’t notice,” I said quietly.
“Good. I’ve been hoping to keep it on the down-low,” she said with a laugh. “I haven’t exactly wanted to endure teasing from the team about sleeping with Derek of all people.”
I swallowed, not having thought about the fact that she’d been… Physical with him. More so, that he’d gotten to be with her in that way. He’d seen her. Heard her. Felt her. All of her. I took in a breath, clearing my head of that image.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner if I was going to keep flirting like this,” she said, suddenly a little shy as she shoved her hands in her pockets. “I know you two are close.”
“Yeah. I’m surprised he didn’t tell us about you.”
She laughed. “Our relationship wasn’t completely… A serious thing.”
“Serious enough to last five months.”
She snorted. “Most of the time we spent together wasn’t exactly romantic. He was great, but we both kind of used each other. Hard time in life for both of us back then.”
“Ah,” I said, nodding curtly. “So it was mostly, uh— Sexual?”
She smirked, looking away. “Not entirely just that. But that was a lot of it.”
I nodded again, feeling my cheeks flush. She nudged my arm, pulling my attention again.
“It’s been well over a year now since that all happened,” she said quietly. “I just… I don’t want to rock the boat right now. Being new to the unit, I should probably try my best to be on everyone’s good side, you know?”
“I get it. I’ll stop with the flirting,” I said, giving what I hoped was an affirming smile.
She furrowed her brow. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It isn’t?”
“The flirting is fine, I just think… Maybe we should keep it a little more quiet when we’re around the others,” she shrugged. “If that’s okay.”
“You’re okay with me— doing that?”
“Spencer, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re crazy hot.”
I was certainly blushing now. I swallowed, blinking in surprise as I looked at her. Her smile only grew. She enjoyed teasing me. I couldn’t say I didn’t like it just as much as she did.
“Uh, th-thank you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Quit acting so shy as if you don’t already know.”
My eyes widened. “I’m not acting.”
“Every woman who meets you flirts with you.”
“No they don’t,” I argued, my brows knitting together.
“Are you blind?”
“No,” I said, still in a state of confusion.
She laughed it off. “Alright, boy wonder, we’d better join the group. They’re gathering like vultures.”
I followed after her as she integrated into the group where they stood as Hotch spoke. She was so good at finding her way in. I was thrilled to see how she’d find her place in my life going forward.
In the following weeks, she gave me an idea of what that would look like. Stolen glances at every turn had my heart racing. It went even faster every time she found a way to touch me in some inconspicuous way.
A hand on my arm as she asked about the maps I was working on. A brush of fingers as she’d hand me a coffee cup. Her shoulder pressed into mine to whisper to me some detail of a case that really could’ve been said at full volume.
She usually didn’t step past those boundaries though, ever cautious not to let herself get caught out by anyone else. The comments she made towards me were still relentless, however. I didn’t know how she had it hidden so well.
I, however, had much more trouble hiding my attraction, and I was sure I’d heard some of my teammates whispering to each other about it. They’d give me knowing looks every time I got caught out staring at her. Even Morgan gave what seemed like mostly-good natured glances my way when I paid a bit too much attention to her. Probably only because he didn’t know that I knew about them, and even more likely didn’t want anyone else to know. It would be a tell-tale sign if he didn’t make fun of me.
It felt wrong to be keeping this odd little secret from him. I wasn’t necessarily sneaking around with his ex-girlfriend, but we were still flirting. We were still hiding something from him. I wondered how he’d react if he found out, and hoped for my sake that he was well and truly over it.
Especially after our last night on a case in Georgia. The summer air in the state was hot, and it felt like it was actively pulling air from my lungs every time I went outside. Maybe it was some kind of metaphor for what was to come.
I held back for hours from going to her door. The teasing had been terribly relentless the entire time we were on the case, and the week before. Tension was building, and I knew if I was easily picking up on it, she definitely had to be.
I paced around my room, contemplating my options. If I went to her, there was a chance we’d finally talk about whatever was happening between us. There was also a chance she’d tell me to leave if I attempted to tell her how I really felt, and I’d be left pining over her probably forever. Both were pretty scary.
Either way, I decided it was better than continuing to fall for her without having a real conversation about it. I walked to the door, my hand on the handle.
She stood just outside my door, her hand raised as if she was about to knock when I tugged it open. A smile graced her pretty lips, her hand dropping.
“Looks like we had the same idea,” she stated, pushing past me into my room. “Good timing.”
“It was.”
She chewed at her lip, looking around the space with her arms crossed. I stared at her as she took it all in, waiting for whatever was on her mind to be put out into the open. She looked back at me, apparently reading my mind.
“We’re both waiting on each other to speak up, huh?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“This is a ridiculous thing we’re doing right now. It’s like sneaking around with any of the fun parts,” she said with a laugh.
“I think it’s fun,” I shrugged.
“It could be more fun.”
I swallowed. “Yeah. But I’m happy just to have your attention.”
She smirked, walking towards me.
“I think you’re kind of needy.”
“Maybe.”
“It’s cute.”
I blushed, giving her a smile as I looked away. She still looked at me like she was about to devour me. I could sympathize with all of those animals I saw in nature documentaries as the predator closed in on them. It was in vivid color. She stalked closer and closer, knowing full well that my guard was down enough for her to launch an attack.
“You really enjoy this, don’t you?” I asked. “Knowing you make me flustered. Half of the time I can hardly talk when I’m around you. Everyone knows it, and they all think it’s one-sided.”
She leaned her chest into mine, surely able to feel how fast my heart beat for her.
“Are you embarrassed by it?”
“No.”
Her hands crept their way up under my shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake as if her touch didn’t feel as hot as the sun. I watched her silently, letting her do whatever she wanted. She couldn’t asked me to jump out of the seventh-floor window with her and I would’ve gone head first without a question.
Panic only crept in when she started leaning in closer to my face, and I realized her lips were on a path that would end with mine.
“Wait,” I said, grabbing her wrists.
Her eyes widened, pulling her head back slightly.
“Are you okay?”
“I just don’t think this is a good idea,” I breathed out.
She retreated from me, and it was hard not to let my body follow hers. She was only a step away, but it felt like a continent’s worth of space. My fingers itched to reach out and pull her back in.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, eyes wandering over her face.
She swallowed. “I don’t know what you want, Spence. One minute you’re telling me you want me, the next you’re pushing me away.”
Logic kept trying to overtake my head. It was annoying.
“I can’t… You’re Morgan’s ex.”
She sighed. “I’m also a human being. I am my own person separate from him. One that is very attracted to you.”
I wet my lips, not missing how her eyes followed the action. I felt a fluttering in my stomach just watching her react. She smiled, as always, catching me in the act of being wildly into her. She took half a step forward.
“You’re telling me this is a bad idea, but every time I look at you I’m getting a different message.”
I swallowed. “I know.”
“So, which is it?”
“It is a bad idea,” I started, intending on making it a whole sentence, but not knowing what to say next.
“But?”
“But I don’t know if I care enough to stop it.”
She smirked again, not holding back this time. She reached up, pulling me down to her lips with her hands wrapped in my hair. I wound my arms around her waist, pulling her tightly into me. I relished feeling her body fully pressed against mine, especially when she let out a contented sigh as I deepened the kiss. She started guiding my backwards towards the bed, and I obliged her silent request until the backs of my knees were against the mattress.
“Sit,” she requested, the word whispered against my lips.
I did, peering up at her as she staying standing in between my legs. She grasped my chin in her soft hand, tilting up my head to see me.
“How sure about this are you?”
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.
She smiled. “Good. I don’t either.”
She dropped into my lap, kissing me like we hadn’t even stopped in the first place. My hands gripped her hips for the first time, and she was everything I had daydreamed about. Soft and responsive. I couldn’t imagine being the one to let her go, and I found myself questioning Morgan’s judgment in that moment.
It made me feel even better every time she smiled or made a little comment about the ways I reacted to her. Usually I’d be embarrassed, but she just made me feel good.
“Sweet boy,” she mumbled against me, moving her lips from my jaw and down my neck.
My hands found themselves wandering across her back, and my eyes were practically stuck shut as I felt her lips against my skin. I could’ve died right then and there and been happy to go.
But a knock at the door sent us both into high alert. She sat up straight, looking towards the door.
I stood with her legs still wrapped around me before I turned and dropped her on the bed. She bounced on the mattress, looking up at me with a surprised smile.
“Just— Stay here and stay quiet. Please,” I said, then walked to the door, trying to frantically fix my hair.
I cleared my throat as I opened the door, forcing myself to not look like I was embarrassingly close to…
I shook myself out of that thought the second I saw Morgan. He definitely put an end to any sexy thoughts that clouded my head.
“Hey, kid, can I ask you something?”
I furrowed my brow. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I just… Do you know what’s been up with JJ? She’s been a little off. Won’t really talk to me, so I was wondering if she said anything to you.”
I let out a breath of relief. “No, she hasn’t told me anything. But I know Henry’s been pretty sick the past week. Maybe that’s it.���
“Hm,” he hummed, nodding slowly. “Alright, thanks. Just… Worried, you know?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “It’s JJ, though. She’ll be okay.”
“Right, yeah, I know,” he nodded again. “Alright. Thanks, again. You get some sleep tonight, alright?”
I nodded, bidding him a goodnight. I shut the door, seeing her on the bed still. She was propped up on her elbows, smirking at me.
“That ruin the mood?”
I locked the door.
“Not particularly.”
To my surprise, she ended up being the one who wanted to take it slow. We kissed for another hour or so when I got back within her reach, but didn’t go much further. Not that I was in a position to complain. I was ecstatic just to be touching her, and she somehow felt the same about me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand why that was.
She’d told me when I’d dropped onto the bed, crawling over top of her, that she didn’t want to go all the way. She said it so sweet. Almost like she was afraid of whatever answer I’d give to her. As if I’d say I didn’t want to kiss her all night long.
Besides, I was pretty sure I’d spontaneously combust if we had gone any further.
We woke up the next morning, still holding onto one another. She had changed into my t-shirt before she climbed into bed with me, and looked absolutely incredible with her messy bed-head and sleepy smile.
“Good morning,” she mumbled.
“It is a very good morning,” I said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
Her hand pressed against my cheek, the smile spreading on her face as she looked at me.
“You’re adorable,” she said quietly, granting me another kiss.
I sighed. “I don’t think I want to stop this.”
“Why would we?” she asked with an incredulous smile.
“Because, I mean, we can’t tell anyone about us,” I said with a shrug. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to make this— A thing.”
She wet her lips. “We don’t have to tell anyone in order to be together.”
I contemplated that for a moment. I’d never considered having a completely private relationship. At least not with someone who wasn’t actively being stalked. That was an entirely different scenario. I guess to her, it was probably scary to get into a relationship with one of your ex’s best friends. I couldn’t blame her for that.
I took a breath. “You… You want to keep it a secret?”
She nodded. “If that’s okay with you.”
“I’ll do whatever you want,” I said with a nod, not bothering to filter my thoughts as they came out into the open.
She smiled. “Anything?”
“Almost. I draw the line at murder.”
She laughed. “Team’d catch you anyways.”
I laughed right back, giving her another kiss. She leaned into my touch, shyness creeping into her face.
“I do really like you, Spencer.”
I nodded. “I do too.”
“This’ll be great, you know?”
She smiled brightly, causing one to form on my face. She brushed my hair away from my face, just looking at me.
“Yeah. I know.”
…ANGELS ROLL THEIR EYES (part 2)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid reader insert#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds reader insert#reid x y/n#reid x you#reid x reader
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pretty boy✨
#criminal minds#Spencer Reid#Spencer#Reid#bau#Matthew gray Gubler#young mgg#mgg#mgg fluff#Spencer Reid fluff#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader#reid x reader#reid x y/n#criminal minds edit#Spencer Reid edit#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid icon#cute spencer reid#behavioral analysis unit#criminal minds au#criminal minds screencaps#criminal minds icons
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“anything for you.”
pairing: spencer ‘spence’ reid x gn!reader
summary: the reader welcomes spencer back after a particularly long case and spencer comes back with a realisation
warnings: too much fluf???
608 words
lower case intended!
[y/n] sat comfortably in spencer’s house reading a book they picked out of one of his many bookshelves, waiting for him to come home.
in the small time they have been together, it had become a ritual for [y/n] to be waiting at spencer’s house after a case. [y/n] would: cook a meal, both for spencer and them, light some candles, and wait for him on his sofa with a book. it was something that brought spencer and [y/n] comfort, as they both anxiously waited to see eachother after his cases.
this ritual had become even more important this time since the case he was coming back from was particularly long. the time away from [y/n] made spencer realise that he missed his partner deeply, not just emotionally but physically too.
whilst he was on the case, trying to hunt down another white male in his late 30s, spencer could not get [y/n] out of his head. every time he came back to his hotel room, all he could think about was how he wished [y/n’s] arms were wrapped around him.
physical touch was something new they had introduced into the relationship since spencer was a germaphobe and because of this, hated touching peoples hands. [y/n] was very apprehensive of introducing it into the relationship but it was something they deeply appreciated so they decided they would slowly introduce it.
both [y/n] and spencer had been spending a lot of time at each others apartments and just before spencer left, both of them had just recently started sleeping in the same bed, cuddling each other to fall asleep. [y/n] had gotten used to this, so when spencer had to leave for his job, it meant that they missed having spencer wrapped in their arms dearly.
[y/n’s] thoughts were disrupted when they heard the lock turn and the door fling open, they quickly got up to greet their boy friend, “hi, baby!” they smiled warmly and quickly embraced him.
“hi, my love,” he grinned, “what did you cook? it smells amazing.”
“i cooked your favourite!” they said excitedly.
' , —
spencer took this time to get changed from his work clothes, into comfortable wear. he made his way to the kitchen where [y/n] was cleaning the dishes they had dirtied because of the meal and he leaned against the doorframe, admiring his partner.
[y/n] finished cleaning the dishes and turned to walk out the room, “jesus spence, you scared me!” they said startled, walking past spencer to get to the living room.
spencer followed them as though he was a lost puppy, [y/n] plopped themselves on the sofa. spencer pouted at them and [y/n] looked at him curiously before asking, “what’s wrong spence?”
“i missed you so much during the case,” he whined as [y/n] stared at him lovingly, “all i could think about was your hugs, your kisses, your cuddles — all my thoughts were being invaded by you!” he explained, “it was almost like i was craving you but, i couldn’t even do anything about it since you where nowhere near me.”
[y/n] smiled at him, “oh yeah?”
“yeah.” he pouted, crossing his arms in the process.
“i think we should do something about that shouldn’t we?” spencer nodded eagerly.
[y/n] laid on the sofa, indicating to spencer to lie down with them. he quickly plopped himself onto [y/n] as they wrapped their arms around him, rubbing soothing circles into his back with one hand, and with the other, playing with his hair.
“mmmm, this feels so nice, thankyou my love.” he said loving all the attention he was receiving.
“anything for you.” they said whilst smiling.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer x reader#spencer x you#spencer x y/n#reid x reader#reid x you#reid x y/n#spence reid x reader#spence reid x you#spence reid x y/n#spence x reader#spence x you#spence x y/n#spencer reid x gn!reader#spencer x gn!reader#reid x gn!reader#spence reid x gn!reader#spence x gn!reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer fluff#reid fluff#spence reid fluff#criminal minds x reader#cm x reader#criminal minds x gn!reader#cm x gn!reader#criminal minds fluff#x reader
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Dilaudid
Summary: Spencer’s life spirals out of control when his dilaudid addiction collides with Gideon’s departure, but he has you to look after him. (Based on Season 3 Episode 3 and previous episodes depicting Gideon’s resignation as well as Reid’s drug addiction.)
Warning: So many… Mentions of drug use and unaliving, some fluff, snappy behavior, vulnerability, idk man, just don’t click if you’re a sensitive to those topics.
Also if you or someone you know has a drug problem or thoughts about not existing anymore, don't hesitate to call any of the hotlines, Help is available, don't forget you matter. ♥️
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
WC: 2.5k
dividers by @cafekitsune <3
Spencer,
I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me.
You must be frightened, I apologize for that. I never meant to cause you any pain. But then I also never envisioned writing this letter. I've searched for a satisfactory explanation for what I'm doing, all I've come up with is: a profiler needs to have solid footing. I- I don't think I do anymore. The world confuses me. The cruelty, indifference, tragedy.
When my dear friend Sarah was murdered, it tore a hole in me, and I truly believed the way to handle the pain was to get back to our work as quickly as possible. Get on to helping somebody else. I thought I could handle Sarah's murder, work through it…
…I no longer trust myself in the field. And without that, I have nothing.
And that was the last domino. The death of that girl. Hotch being suspended over something that was my fault. I said at the beginning of this letter, that I knew it would be you to come up here. I'm so sorry the explanation couldn't be better, Spencer.
And I am so sorry that it doesn't make more sense, but I've already told you, I just don't understand any of it anymore.
I'm sorry.
I guess I'm just looking for it again. For the belief I had back in college. The belief I had when I first met Sarah and it all seemed so right.
The belief in happy endings.
The letter was devastating, Spencer felt alone, the one man in his life that was like a father to him disappeared without a trace, just like Spencer’s dad, Gideon left a letter, even if it didn’t make sense at the time. Hotch was still suspended, and the entire team was now under scrutiny by Strauss and a board of higher ups, but the cases never stopped coming in, the team was on their way to another case, Spencer was by himself on one side of the jet, looking over the file JJ had given him earlier this morning, Prentiss, Morgan, JJ, and you were all briefing each other on the current case you had to work on, the bastard was killing people based on their phobias.
Atop the file Reid was rereading Gideon’s letter, trying to make sense of it, flashbacks of Gideon’s empty cabin and finding the letter addressed to him were vivid in his mind, the craving for dilaudid was coursing through his veins, he could feel himself itch. “Hey,” Your soft voice interrupted causing him to shift in his seat and put away the letter, “Are you okay?” You knew it was a dumb question to ask, but you were genuinely curious to pick at his brain and find out how he really felt, silent Reid was very uncommon, he was your friend and you cared, even though you saw him as much, much, more. Reid gave you a dim smile. “I’m fine,” taking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you reached over to touch his hand, his big brown puppy dog eyes looked at yours and you could see the pain and confusion behind them.
“You don’t have to go through this alone, Reid.” You offered, his brows knit together, “I don’t need you to profile me y/n, it won’t end well, and you can’t possibly know what I’m going through.” He snapped, it made your heart hurt slightly, but you backed off, your crush on the beautiful genius grew each day you got to know him, and seeing him this broken just didn’t sit well with you, or anyone on the team. “Don’t push him, let him come to you,” JJ said, when you sat back down, she was the only one who knew about your feelings for Reid, you wondered if the rest of the team knew, not that you cared.
“I know, it’s just sad to see him that way, he’s closed himself off to all of us,” You glanced back at Spencer, who went back to reading the letter Gideon left him shamelessly leaving the file wide open in front of him.
Upon arrival and working the case, there were little words shared between boy wonder and yourself unless it had to do with the case, being the only ones without assignment, Prentiss sent you both to speak to the family of the unsub, just to see what you could dig up working as a team, you drove while Spencer rode next to you, several times you looked over to him, his red rimmed eyes from lack of sleep and crying was carving a hole around your soul, you cleared your throat. “Spence,” You began. “I know I’m new to the team, and I have absolutely no words to make you feel better, if I could remove the pain however, I would, don’t be afraid to take some time—.”
He looked at you, cutting you off, “Are you saying I can’t do my job?”
“No! No, God no, you’re the smartest person I ever met, if there’s anyone who can do this job with his eyes closed is you, I just want you to know that you can trust me, with anything, and if you need time to heal, it’s okay…”
He looked far ahead, not wanting to look at you. “I also had Gideon, look at how that turned out.” He snapped back. You tried your best to not let your emotions get the best of you. “I’m just saying you’re not alone Spence,” You looked over at him, he was already staring at you, and even if it was for a few seconds, it made your heart thump loudly in your ears, “The team’s here for you, I’m here for you.” He gave you the same dim smile as you approached your destination, stepping out of the vehicle you watched him fix his holster, it made you smile, only Reid could look completely helpless and handsome at the same time.
After interviewing the unsub’s wife you picked up your cell phone to call the rest of the team. “His wife just informed us that her family owns property, if the unsub’s practice has been shut down maybe this is where he carries out the murders.” With this new information, Prentiss ordered the both of you to stay put, within three hours you received a phone call from the Prentiss letting you know the case had ended in tragedy, he’d taken the coward way out, instead of facing justice for what he’d done, you informed the family of what Dr. Stanley had done and with profuse condolences you headed back to the jet, that was waiting to fly to Quantico, you left Spencer alone for the time being, donning on your headphones and trying your best to enjoy the flight after such an outcome.
From the corner of your eye you noticed Spencer looking at you, then looking away, but he said nothing, even when you were safely indoors at the BAU, Spencer was quiet, distant, no random statistics, no random book quotes, he was mute. When it was time to go home, Spencer was the only one who left without saying good night, you watched his tall figure walk away and disappear into the elevator, Morgan was quick to sit on your desk and look at you inquisitively. “So, pretty girl, when are you gonna tell him?” You knew exactly what he was talking about, your eyes darted to his face, he sported a boyish grin. “How did you—”
“I ain’t a profiler for nothin’ so, when are you gonna tell him?” He asked again.
“Spencer needs a break, I can’t just bombard him with my feelings, when what he needs is a friend.” You confided, Morgan shook his head. “You want to support him right?” He asked, you nodded. “Why are you still sitting behind that desk then?” You smiled at the man and stood up, grabbing your bag and a few files. “Good luck y/n,” You heard Morgan behind you, shaking your head you got into the elevator and straight to your car, driving towards Spencer’s apartment. You were hesitant at first, but you pushed yourself up the stairs and stood in front of his door, knocking lightly you realized the door was open, which was odd for Spencer, with immediate concern you drew your weapon and decided to investigate. “Spence?” No answer, venturing further into the apartment, you noticed his bag and his gun neatly on the sofa. “Spencer?” You called out again, silence.
Approaching his room, you carefully pushed in the door, finding Spencer sitting on the floor with his back leaning onto the bed and a needle in his hand, upon noticing you, he looked up, a sad expression on his face, it was clear he’d already taken the drug, you put away your gun and knelt beside him, normally you were able to contain your emotions, compartmentalize them well, but seeing him like this just devastated you, you held him close, as you both cried in silence, with his own help you were able to put him to bed, when you were about to turn around and head to his living room, a weak hand held your arm. “Stay… Please?” He asked, without a doubt you got into bed with him allowing him to be the little spoon as you nursed his high, you didn’t want to reprimand him, but you knew this had to stop, or else this brilliant man was going to fade into addiction.
You held him, and no words were spoken between the two, you ran your fingers through his brown locks until the dilaudid made him fall asleep, taking advantage of this, you were able to get off his bed and take a look around his place, it was messy, dusty and it was clear he hadn’t been picking up after himself, sitting on his couch you allowed yourself to cry, and made yourself a promise then and there to take care of him and help him, backing up what you told him with actions instead of simply words. While Spencer slept, you checked his fridge and it was absolutely abysmal, now you were a woman on a mission, you headed to his local supermarket and got him fruits, veggies, snacks and other goodies, plus all you needed to make him a soup, once you got back upstairs you'd occasionally check on him only to find him still asleep, since Prentiss was left in charge of the team while Hotch was suspended, you called her and made sure that Spencer as well as yourself, had at least two weeks off at the BAU she approved even if you didn't explain why both of you needed the same time off. You set yourself a goal of helping Spencer detox, he would never accept treatment from a facility, that would mean he had to accept the fact that he had an addiction to begin with, Spencer might be a genius but he was prideful.
As you moved around the kitchen the smells were intertwining with each other and you felt his presence, turning around you found Spencer, leaning in the kitchen doorway, watching you cook. “I heard your phone call, I can’t take two weeks off,” He began, his eyes resting on you. “I’m not letting you poison yourself anymore Reid.” You held a ladle in your hands as he stared you up and down. “You can’t just come here and act like you want to fix me, y/n.”
You continued to stir the soup and adding the noodles to it, covering it and turning around to face him, as you spoke you slowly came closer to him. “I’m not trying to fix you Spencer, I’m trying to bring back the man who tells me the origin of Halloween, I’m trying to resurrect the Reid I met a year ago, the one that didn’t need drugs to help him cope, I want my friend back,” You were now looking up at him, staring into his eyes. “Gideon left, and I understand you’re upset but you need to remember that out of the rest of the team, the only person he left a reason, a letter, possibly an explanation, was you Spence, now please… Let me help you,” sweat pooled on Spencer’s forehead, taking his hand you took him to the bathroom. “Shower, clean up, by the time you’re finished the soup will be ready,” His brows knit together, finally understanding that you were really here for him.
Midway into the bathroom, he turned on his heel, “Thank you, y/n.” He said softly as the door closed behind him, Expelling a sigh, you looked around the apartment again, pinpointing where to start cleaning, You began with his books, putting them all in alphabetical order as he would like it, dusting as you went on, this wouldn’t be easy, but with love, books, soup, and patience, you were well on your way to restoring the honorable Dr. Spencer Reid.
A/N: If you guys would like a second part to this, please, please, please let me know. I don't bite! Suggestions, Replies, Reblogs, and likes are all welcome.
#dr spencer reid#reid x reader#reid x y/n#matthew gray gubler#criminal minds fandom#bau#criminal minds fanfiction#mgg fluff#mgg x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds
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Fatigued [Spencer x Reader]
Photo Credits: Left (@foxy-eva) Center (@flowersforfrancis) Right (@s0undmybarbaricyawp)
Prompt: The reader has made one New Year’s Resolution this year, get out more. Spencer is happy to help her with this, but tonight the reader just seems too tired to want to do that. However, Spencer is flexible and is happy to change plans to let the reader rest.
Pairing: Spencer x Non-BAU!fem!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns.
Category: fluff/comfort
Word Count: 3.3K
Content Warnings: Use of nicknames [sweetheart, love, etc.] someone passes away of old age [minor character].
A/N: Hi loves! Here is another fic based on the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins January/February Writing Challenge. The prompt was Character swears that this year they were going to definitely fulfill their New Year's Resolutions. I really just wanted to write a soft, domestic Spencer fic. The start of the semester just makes me tired, so this was also inspired by my own fatigue. I hope all my tired girlies can relate! If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your week and thanks for reading. Love Levi - ❤️
List with all stories
_y/n_ = your name
_y/l/n_ = your last name
_y/f/c_ = your favorite color
_y/c/e_ = your color eyes
_y/f/i/b_ = your favorite indy band
_y/f/j_ = your favorite jewelry
_y/e/c_ = your eye color
_y/b/t_ = your body type
_y/f/r_ = your favorite restaurant
_y/n_ stood in front of the mirror. The _y/f/c_ dress looked as good as it always did, but she didn’t feel like she normally did when it was on. Usually, the short hemline and and scooped neck brought out a confidence in _y/n_ that made her excited for the night ahead, but right now she was just tired. _y/n_ put her head in her hands and let out a sigh. _y/n_ had made one New Year’s Resolution this year, and that was to do more things in the city. _y/n_’s day job kept her cooped up for a good bit of the day, and sometimes on the weekend. The fast transfer to D.C. had been a blessing and a curse. She had met her very loving and supportive boyfriend because of the move. That was the best thing to ever come from a relocation in her life. However, _y/n_ knew she wasn’t great with making friends or having the energy to want to do much outside of spending a quiet night with Spencer in his or her apartment. The fact that _y/n_ kept so isolated was the reason she’d met Spencer. Although _y/n_ didn’t have much energy for friends, she did make time to volunteer. _y/n_ felt that it was important to give back to whatever community she was in. Even if it was something small.
When _y/n_ had moved, she found out that she lived close to a hybrid hospital and assisted living facility. She would see the older ladies in groups sometimes coming back from the shops the short five-minute walk from the store. She’d stopped and helped a lady with her bag, and they’d struck up a conversation in no time. Eileen had talked about how she’d lived in Sherwood Community Living for five years and then asked _y/n_ about herself. _y/n_ was happy to talk with Eileen. She often found talking to those older than her easier than people her age. When they reached the red brick building that was covered in trailing ivy, Eileen said, “You know I haven’t spoken with a young person in some time. I miss it since my kids have moved away.” There was a distant look in Eileen’s eyes before she said, “If you ever have a free afternoon and want to entertain an old lady like me, I’d love to see you again, dear.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I’d like that, Eileen. I’ll call soon.” _y/n_ kept her word and visited Eileen and then started to know more people in the facility. She’d talk with the woman as they knitted, crocheted, or cross-stiched. Sometimes she’d paint people's fingers, with the hospital’s permission of course. There weren’t only old folks who lived in the space either. Some younger teens needed the constant care that their families simply couldn’t provide. For those kids, _y/n_ brought copies of Teen Vogue and books that she thought they might like. She assumed they might feel isolated without a peer group to hang out with. _y/n_ felt like she could relate to them in that way.
One afternoon as _y/n_ was chatting with Eileen over some coffee, the door opened. _y/n_ had her back to it, but Eileen looked up. Her eyes widened slightly and the old woman raised a hand saying, “Dr. Reid, come over here for a second. I want you to meet my new friend.” _y/n_ flushed. She had told Eileen about her friend woes, so now she had been introduced to almost all of the staff. However, _y/n_ had never heard of Dr. Reid before. _y/n_ turned in her chair and felt even more flustered as the lanky man in a sweater vest and Converse walked toward them. He was cute. Spencer shot Eileen a smile and said, “Good afternoon Mrs. Henderson. How are you today?” Eileen beamed and said, “I’m good, thank you. I just wanted to introduce you to Miss _y/n_ _y/l/n_. It’s nice having some younger faces in here, you know. Lightens the mood.” Spencer nodded and looked over to _y/n_. He took a little breath in at just how pretty _y/n_ was. He took a moment before extending his hand, saying, “It’s nice to meet you, _y/n_. I’m Spencer Reid.” _y/n_ smiled and softly said, “It’s nice to meet you too.” She put her hand in his and they shook. Reid felt her delicate palm in his and his face reddened just a bit. When they dropped hands, _y/n_ plucked up her courage and said, “Do you work here Dr. Reid? I’ve never seen you before.” _y/n_ thought he looked slightly young to be a doctor as well, but didn’t voice that thought. She assumed he was around her age given his appearance. However, his clothes seemed to be trying to make him look older. _y/n_ came back to herself when she realized she was staring. This only caused _y/n_ to flush further. Spencer gave a small smile and said, “No, I don’t. I just come and visit now and then.” _y/n_ nodded in understanding. Reid looked at his watch and said, “Well, I’d better be going. Have a good day, Eileen, _y/n_.” Eileen waived from the table and said, “Take care of yourself, sweetheart.” Once Spencer had gone, _y/n_ sat back down and Eilneen said, “He’s a good one that Dr. Reid.” _y/n_ nodded and asked, “Who is he exactly?” Eileen took a moment, then a sip of her sweet tea before responding, “Oh someone like you, I suppose. He holds a chess club for some of the men. He also gives talks once in a while. They’re very interesting and on all sorts of stuff -- Lorca’s poetry, what’s happening in the Middle East, Boethius’s philosophy. He comes when he can, but he’s a busy young man. He has some dangerous job that takes him all places.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “Well, he sounds very accomplished.” Eileen smiled. She could see the look in _y/n_’s eye. Not wanting to push her luck, Eileen decided to go back to their previous conversation about the soap opera she was currently watching and how the silly character Leena was pissing her off.
_y/n_ looked for Dr. Reid the next few times she visited her friends, but he wasn’t there. The line that Eileen had said about him having a busy, dangerous job stuck with her. _y/n_ wondered what his job was. She couldn’t picture him being a police officer or anything like that. _y/n_ considered looking him up on social media but decided not to. She always thought that was creepy. Eventually, Spencer did come back and everyone seemed happy to have him back. He gave her a wave as he passed her table which she returned with a small smile. Reid couldn’t help but notice her pupils dilate as she smiled at him. Later that afternoon, they both left around the same time. As fate would have it, it was raining pretty heavily and neither of them had brought umbrellas. _y/n_ leaned against the railing under the covered awning while Spencer tapped his foot in what might have been a nervous gesture. Not liking the silence, _y/n_ said jokingly, “You know if your gone that long again they might riot.” Spencer chuckled and moved over to the railing with her. He looked over at _y/n_ and said, “I think the same thing could be said about you and the ladies. Your name gets brought up a lot when I’m here and you’re not around.” _y/n_ flushed, but not from the cold. _y/n_ turned her face away for a moment before asking, “Do you know someone here or…” _y/n_ dropped the end of the sentence because she couldn’t think of another alternative. There was a small silence that lingered. _y/n_ worried that she had said something wrong. However, Spencer filled the silence and replied, “No. I just help out with some things, plan events and stuff.” Spencer looked out into the rain and then added, “My mom is in a facility like this, but she doesn’t live nearby. I find helping out here makes me feel better about not seeing her that often.” _y/n_ looked at Reid as he said this. He looked sort of sad. _y/n_ reached a hesitant arm out and placed it on his arm. Spencer turned his gaze to hers. He looked into _y/n_’s _y/c/e_’s as she said, “That’s very kind of you.” Just as _y/n_ said that the rain started letting up. Soon after that, they both went their own ways.
After that encounter, _y/n_ and Spencer took a few minutes just catching up every time they saw each other at Sherwood. They just exchanged formalities, but it was nice for _y/n_ to talk to someone her age, even if it was just for a few minutes. Time passed as it always did and the seasons changed. Eileen, who had lived a full and happy life passed in the Spring, her favorite season. The ceremony was small and discrete. There were just a few family members at the memorial. The next day, when Eileen was laid to rest, _y/n_ was relieved when she saw Spencer arrive, even if he was late. It felt good to have someone she knew connected to Eileen. When the simple ceremony was over, Spencer could tell that _y/n_ was sad and asked, “_y/n_, would you like to get a coffee or a drink or something to celebrate Eileen’s memory?” _y/n_ sniffled a little and nodded yes. _y/n_ and Spencer ended up talking about how they had met Eileen and their favorite memories with her. There was laughter and a little bit of crying. That was when _y/n_ and Spencer really started to get to know each other, and when Spencer asked her if she’d like to hang out again, and she said yes, _y/n_ had a feeling that Eileen would be proud of her for taking a chance on someone. However, from what _y/n_ knew about Spencer, he was a pretty safe bet. Their relationship had moved on from there. It had moved slowly, but neither minded. Because of the cases Spencer went on, he had to make their dates work when they could.
It had been three months since they had started dating and _y/n_ had met the team on a rare night that the BAU went out. There had been a lot of good-natured teasing from Morgan and a bit of coo-ing from Garcia. Other than that it was a fun and pleasant evening. It was nice for _y/n_ to meet the people who filled the stories that Spencer told her about his cases. The nature of Reid’s work did worry her, but she knew Spencer was the smartest man in any room. If something went wrong, she knew he had already weighed the odds for him and his team's best options. They had started spending more time in each other’s space, and he had been there when she had sworn to do one new thing a week in town as a Resolution. Spencer had upped the ante and said he’d take her to something nice once a month for their set date night. So far they had gone to an art museum and a concert of _y/f/i/b_. Tonight was supposed to be their third nice date on the town. The BAU’s cases had been lighter than usual. The cases that had popped up had been close to D.C. and didn’t take as long to solve. Thus, Spencer had been able to spend more time with _y/n_. He’d been intent on helping her reach her goal of doing more things in the city. He’d booked a reservation at a nice restaurant for them tonight. The place had a waitlist and if _y/n_ wasn’t so tired, she’d be very excited about it. But even as _y/n_ put _y/f/j_, she could feel the call of the bed or couch even now. _y/n_ was standing by the mirror longer than she had realized as Spencer let himself into her apartment. He called out from the front room, asking, “_y/n_, where are you?” _y/n_ replied, “In the bedroom, Spence.” Reid ambled into the room, stood behind _y/n_, and wrapped his lanky arms around her torso. _y/n_ tipped her head up as he kissed her forehead. Spencer loved to compliment _y/n_. He loved everything about _y/n_ from her _y/c/e_’s to your _y/b/t_ that was always the perfect place to give her gentle hugs. Spencer looked over _y/n_ in the mirror. She was wearing one of his favorite outfits of _y/f/c_ dress and her normal rings. He said softly, “You look so beautiful, _y/n_.” _y/n_ looked at her reflection and just said a small, “Hmm” in acknowledgment. She appreciated the compliment. She knew Spencer was always sincere in his words to her. Even though he could go on tangents, or delve into a topic about ten times more deeply, than a normal person, she knew he never exaggerated or over-intellectualized things for her sake. Spencer could see the faraway look in _y/n_’s eyes and the tone with which she had responded to him was different than her normal, chipper greetings, or even the way she got flustered when he showered her in compliments. Reid moved so that he was standing in front of her and asked gently, “_y/n_, are you alright? You sound a little distant?” _y/n_ sighed and said, “It’s really nothing Spencer,” Reid took her hands in his and said, “It doesn’t sound like nothing to me, _y/n_. Please tell me, even if you think it’s something small.” _y/n_ looked at him and replied, “I’m just so tired today. I feel exhausted and I don’t know why. I went to bed at my normal time and felt refreshed this morning, but now it’s like all the energy has been drained from my body. I know that sounds like a bad episode of Dr. Who or something, but I feel worn down. I want to be excited about tonight, I mean, I am excited about tonight, I just know I’d enjoy it more if I had some energy. Maybe I can chug a coffee or something before we go?”
_y/n_ didn’t want to be a buzzkill, but even now, she was just thinking of kicking off her heels and crawling into bed. Spencer nodded slightly as said, “Sweetheart, we can cancel tonight and reschedule it. It makes sense that you’re tired, and I want you to have a good night no matter what we’re doing.” _y/n_ opened her eyes a bit wider in surprise. _y/n_ said, “Are you sure? I know those reservations were hard to get. I can perk up, I promise.” Spencer chuckled and said, “_y/n_, I love you, but you’re a terrible liar. I can see you aching for the bed, and you do look a bit tired.” _y/n_ flushed at Reid's ability to read her. She knew he was a profiler and all, but this skill still surprised her sometimes. Spencer smiled and placed his hand under her chin as he said, “I’m sure, _y/n_. Let me call the restaurant and let them know we can’t make it. Some other couple will be happy to have our spots. And how about I call _y/f/r_ to get some delivery?” _y/n_ nodded and said, “That sounds perfect, Spence. I’m just going to change into something more comfortable while you make those calls.” Spencer nodded and stepped out of the room to give _y/n_ some privacy to change. Even though they had been dating for a few months, _y/n_ was still a little hesitant to be fully undressed in front of Spencer. Those types of things took her time to get comfortable with. Spencer understood and respected those boundaries, and let _y/n_ set the pace for physical intimacy in their relationship.
When _y/n_ had changed into some comfortable sweats and a loose t-shirt and put her heels back in the closet, she moved back into the living room. Spencer was on the couch pulling up their favorite show to watch while they waited for their food. _y/n_ nestled into his side, and he wrapped an arm around her. As the latest episode of the TV show they were watching at the moment started to play softly, _y/n_ asked Spencer, “Why did you say that it was understandable that I was tired? I can’t even figure it out myself.” Reid traced soft patterns on Eli’s side and replied, “I think it’s decision fatigue. People on average make 35,000 conscious decisions every day, and that’s not including things related to work or outside things like changes of plans or sudden new tasks thrown on top of everything else. So I think it’s natural that every few days or weeks people just feel tired. How couldn’t you? Your brain is doing so much work that we don’t even notice it. I don’t think we give ourselves enough credit for everything we do. Also, don’t get me started on how humans aren’t designed to work the way we do today.” _y/n_ smiled at Reid’s intelligence. He always seemed to have a logical answer for everything, and she was comforted by it. The food soon arrived and they spent a quiet evening inside watching their comfort show and talking about what was happening in each other lives. Spencer pulled out a pint of ice cream from the freezer, and they didn’t even bother with bowls. Instead, they just used spoons to dip into the frozen cream mixture. When the night wrapped down, _y/n_ looked over at Spencer and said, “Would you stay here tonight? Having you here is so nice.” Spencer nodded yes. He knew that when he was gone on cases _y/n_ missed him badly. He knew because he missed her too. So any chance they got to spend time together, they did. After they’d both brushed their teeth and washed their faces in the bathroom sink, the couple settled under _y/n_’s covers. Spencer pulled her to his chest, and once she was settled, _y/n_ said, “Well. I already broke my only New Year’s Resolution to go out more,” with a chuckle. Spencer rubbed _y/n_’s back with his long fingers saying, “Well only about nine percent of Americans follow through with their resolutions, and twenty-three percent of people drop them by the first week. So I’d say statistically speaking almost making it to the end of January before giving up is a triumph. Besides, sometimes there are more important things to think about than New Year’s Resolutions. Like taking care of yourself and getting the rest you need.” _y/n_ flushed and said, “Well, when you put it like that, then I guess it’s not so bad after all.” Spencer nodded and said, “And there’s always time. We have the whole year in front of us to explore and go out.” There was a soft silence as they just breathed and enjoyed being next to each other in the bed. _y/n_ thought about the prospect of a whole year spent with Spencer and it warmed her from the inside. She smiled and said, “Thanks for being with me, Spencer. For spending your free time here doing nothing.” Reid kissed the top of her head, and just before _y/n_ fell into a deep sleep, she could hear him say, “It’s not nothing to me, love. And I’ll always be here.”
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Sweet Nothing | Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 740
Warnings: None, just poetry, fluff, and domestic cuteness. <333
(Inspired by Taylor Swift’s song Sweet Nothing ofc)
You lay in bed, head and back resting against the wooden headboard with your knees up. With your journal resting in your lap you scribble away, drawing little sketches next to your poems before starting on another piece. You whisper a few words, feeling how it sounds on your tongue before writing it or tweaking it.
Caught in a trance, you don’t even notice Spencer leaning against the bedroom’s door frame, his work satchel wrapped around his chest, the bag sitting lazily by his hip. “That’s better.” He says softly, listening to your verbal correction.
Your head snaps up. You see your boyfriend standing in the doorway then swing one foot in front of the other and walk over to you. You giggle, nervous about how much of your writing he heard. “Don’t worry, I’m going to fix it more. When I get bored it’s harder to write.”
He plants a kiss on your forehead and cups your cheeks, leaning over the side of the bed, “Why would I be worried? Sounds beautiful. You’re such a great writer, y/n.”
You feel your face flush in his hands, turning your head to the right as if to hide in my palm. He tries to push you face back to look into his honey-colored eyes, “Hey, want something new to write about?”
A prompt. So freaking cute. “Of course.” You perk up as he removes his warm hands from your face and reaches deep down into his pocket. He brings his hand out, clutching something while he removes his satchel and places it on the carpeted floor beside the bed. He climbs next to you on his side of the bed and opens his palm.
In the center of his hand laid a pretty rock. Every once in a while, Spence would come home with a rock or a crystal for your collection and every time it made your day. “It’s so pretty, Spence.” You look down at the rock and then back up at his. The rock reflected even the dull lamp light with its slick shine. “Where’d you find it? Your newest case?” You reached for the rock, playing with it in your hand.
“I bought this one,” Spencer knew you didn’t like it when he spent his money on you but he didn’t seem to care, “It’s from Wicklow, that little seaside town in Ireland you talk about.”
Your nose stung a little, thinking about how he actually listened to your small rants about nothing and everything. “I thought you were sleepy when I told you about Wicklow.” You said, wondering if the gift was the rock or the way Spencer listens to your every word, big and small.
“I was, but I like hearing you talk. I wanna take you there one day, we’ll make a vacation savings. But for now I just thought you could have a rock from there.” He gave you a small smile, slightly mischievous as he watched your eyes gloss, knowing his little plan worked. He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the rock.
Spencer cupped your face again, kissing your nose, then pulling away. “Hey, what was that prompt?” You asked, shifting to lay on his chest.
“Oh, write about the rock. That’s all I had, sorry. I just had to sneak my surprise in somewhere.” He laughed, one arm rubbing his neck and the other scratching your back as you cooed and giggled against his soft neck.
“No, no, it’s good I will.” You sit up again, placing the rock and your journal in front of you as you lay on your stomach and get to writing. Spencer massages your swaying feet as you write and flips through the pages of a book with his other hand.
Somewhere around forty minutes passes by when you finally sit up and hand your journal to Spencer. You bring your hand up to your mouth and chew your nails as Spencer reads your little poem in his head. Once he finished he placed the journal on his tummy as he grabbed your hand and held it close to his chest, then tucked your hair behind your ear, “What a mind.”
“You say that all the time.” You rolled your eyes and smiled so wide, giggling as you fell onto him and your journal, hugging your art and your husband, feeling so full as you ran into his sweet nothing. “I love you, Spencer Reid.”
“I love you more Y/N.”
#spencer reid#spencerreid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader#Criminal Minds#criminalminds#criminal minds fanfic#reid x y/n#writer#writing#fanfiction#fanfic#Criminal Minds Fanfiction#taylor swift#taylor swift midnights#midnights#fluff#domestic life
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I called you 🥹
One night Spencer and Morgan went to a bar where you worked Morgan asked "hey sweetheart got a minute?"
You nod and looked at them "what can I get for the both of you?"
Morgan nudged Reid "you got this !!"
Morgan went to hand out more fliers and Reid asks "I wonder if you seen this man?" He shows you a photo and you shrug "that's not much of a picture" then he stabbed the photo "he should have a scary over there " and he moved the pen magically didn't break the paper
You were surprised "wow how did you do that!?"
He smiles "its a secret so here call me when you see this man" you nod and add his number
You asked "hey how about I don't see this man can u still call?"
He nods "yea sure sure !"
30 mins later last call for orders you saw the man on the paper with a girl then you spilled a drink on the girl "oh sorry here come to the back we have some place we can get you cleaned up"
Then you take her to the back and tell her to stay there
Then the girl asks "who is he?"
Then you went out to call Spencer but he didn't pick up then the unsub hit you on the back of the head took you to a motel
Reid said to him self "she called me if I picked up sooner this wouldn't happen"
Then 15 minutes later garcia tacked your location and Morgan grabbed the man and Reid saved you he untape your mouth
"I called you I called you" you were shaking and Reid comforts you and takes you to the ambulance for a check "I know I know you called you did great y/n"
You look at him "so we can go out someday?"
He blushes and nods 'ofcourse"
And you say holding his hand "thank you Reid thank you for saving my life"
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i don’t know if anyone will see this or if they would care but im glad that i posted ( the only other post on my thing ) even if it is repetitive at times, and unemotional in my opinion, im glad i did so i can try to do it again. it is almost a story filled with cliches and told using existing characters as a device for me to hide the fact that i am too inexperienced and lazy to both build my own original characters and write dialogue that doesn’t all sound like one person ( me ) because the people reading it ( me ) will read spencer’s dialogue as spencer and rossis’ as himself ( i read his as fat tony ) but it works!! it works for me because i get to do something and i don’t care that it’s unfortunately a cringey cliche fic about a fictional character from a tv show that’s currently living their life off screen, who’s actor also played a chipmunk, because i have a little bit of imagination and i don’t get to decide what to imagine but i do imagine what he could be doing off screen and i put it into words!! that’s all!! thank you for reading this and/or the other thing. someone said they read it a few times and i felt nice about that, have a nice day :) — p.s. sorry for the tags and not formatting this differently so it’s just a block of text alright goodbye now
#criminal minds#spener reid fluff#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid x you#spencer x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid angst#spencer#spencer reid#professor!reid#reid x r#reid x y/n
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ash
pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: spencer and reader go to a party so they could humor a friend and realize once again that it’s not their scene.
word count: .5k words
note: this is kind of a prologue to something i wanna write. it's high school spencer and reader but he's the same age as her, the usual age for sophomores.
It was humid out, the crickets were loud and your hair was frizzy as it laid on the back of your shoulders but none of it mattered at all. The long sleeved plaid flannel was tied around your waist while you sat on the curb and the smoke coming out of your lips is what drew him in at first.
You were completely ignorant to the party inside and instead favored twisting the blunt around between your fingertips while crushing any ash under your dark checkered vans as it fell with each puff.
You were so out of it that you didn’t hear him walk up behind you at first until his raspy voice spoke. “What are you doing?” Jumping a bit with shaking shoulders, you put a hand over your racing heartbeat and turned your head to glare at the sight before you. What you thought was going to be another stupid highschool football player, was in fact the complete opposite.
Your eyes softened quickly when you realized who it was.
Spencers’s voice sounded deep and different and little did you know that it was because you looked pretty tonight, despite the fact your mascara was starting to sweat off onto your cheeks.
His lanky legs were covered in jeans that had holes in his knees, meanwhile his converse laces were about to fall out but it seemed he didn’t care about them because he of course had his bag over his shoulder. You knew at least three to four books were hidden inside it, despite the fact the atmosphere was a party with music and drinks.
“Jesus warn a girl before you scare her death, hmm?” You replied.
Spencer sighed and shook his head, sitting on the curb next to you with a cringe at the germs and bugs currently on it. You noticed his disgust but ignored it with a grin. “Want a hit?”
He rolled his eyes at you but nodded and took it between his fingers, which caught you by surprise. But you realized what he was doing quickly and narrowed your eyes at him as you watched him dab it out onto the road. “What the hell, Spence? Do you know how much those are?”
“Relax, I know you have a bunch more that you can just take out at any moment. I want to go home, are you ready?” You stood up with a nod and brushed off the back of your legs. “I’ve been ready since we got here. You know I just had to humor my friend and go dance for a minute.” You quipped back with a grin and turned to start walking.
Spencer’s driving scared you so it was usually you driving him around. He followed behind you like a lost puppy as he glanced back and forth at the dark road while the two of you walked to your car. It was a piece of crap but it worked most of the time and you loved it.
Almost as much as the nicotine you couldn’t be without and Spencer watched with a raised eyebrow as you grabbed the cigarette from behind your ear and the lighter that was hanging out of your front pocket. You pushed the unlock button on your keyring so Spencer could get in the passenger seat while you lit the stick and sat in your seat to roll down the windows.
“Where to sweetness?” You hummed and started up the car.
The same car you still had as a brokenhearted twenty-six year old.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid imagines#reid x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#reid x y/n#reid x you#spencer x you#spencer x y/n#spencer x reader#criminal minds one shots#criminal minds one shot#criminal minds fanfiction
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please, recommend some fics with reid and oc
#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#dr reid#criminal minds#reid#tv shows#cm fic#cm#cm fic rec#reid x reader#reid x y/n#reid x oc#original female character#spencer reid fanfiction
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The real barbie is Y/n.
Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.
#y/n#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#cod x reader#simon riley x reader#konig x reader#cod x y/n#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#konig x y/n#harry potter x y/n#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x y/n#six of crows x reader#jesper fahey x reader#jesper fahey x y/n#wylan van eck x reader#fanfiction#fluff#angst#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#alastor x y/n#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x y/n#the umbrella academy x reader#five hargreaves x reader#klaus hargreeves x reader
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I promise I'm not dead, classes and work are kicking my butt and I haven't been able to update Dilaudid or write a new short CM fic. Pray for me ya'll... 😭
#criminal minds x reader#criminalminds#reid x y/n#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner x you#criminal minds x you
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𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem
cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky.
You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely.
Total quiet.
“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?”
“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?”
“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?”
“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…”
“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?”
“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.”
“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.”
He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh.
“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated.
Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry.
“Spencer?” you ask quietly.
“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?”
“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?”
“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups.
“Where are you?”
After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him.
He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.”
Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?”
“Where was I?”
“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed.
“Still where?”
“Did you hit your head?”
“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.”
“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk.
“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.”
“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.”
“…What?”
You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.”
“I annoy people.”
“You don’t annoy me.”
You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here.
You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?”
“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection.
“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?”
“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly.
“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?”
“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.”
“Hi Milly,” a new voice says.
You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room.
Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark.
You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly.
“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!”
His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer.
“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask.
You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again.
“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.”
He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath.
“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers.
“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year.
He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.”
“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.”
“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.”
You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”
“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!”
You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.
Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity.
“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek.
“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.”
You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly.
“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says.
“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway.
“I don’t want to be alone forever.”
“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates?
In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess.
You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”
His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.”
“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol.
“She kind of looked like you.”
You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.”
“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.”
“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I know,” he says.
“Do you?”
“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”
“Is that why you make all your jokes?”
“What jokes, babe?”
“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.”
You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?”
“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.”
“Spencer, you remember everything.”
He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.”
You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him.
You’re happy to.
“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”
“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled.
“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse.
“You look so cute,” he says mournfully.
You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally.
“Can I come home with you?” he asks.
That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.”
— —
Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.”
“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.”
“So you want three?”
He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.”
Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time.
You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?”
He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him.
You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory.
He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that.
The avocado is making him feel sick.
“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?”
“I think I'm gonna throw up.”
“You’re okay.”
“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes.
You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button.
“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.”
“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.”
Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”
“But it’s you.”
“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”
“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now.
You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.
But you’re perfect, he’d said.
To you. And you’re perfect to me.
“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say.
You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again.
You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.”
He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do.
The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…
“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask.
Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️
#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
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do you believe me now?
in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)
part two
18+ (smut)
warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it
a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!
“You’re so pretty.”
It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues.
“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”
You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong.
His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“…I do.”
It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs.
“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”
The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface.
Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”
Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.
“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”
That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more.
“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”
“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”
Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment.
“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”
“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable.
“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness.
“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”
His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak.
“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”
A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you.
“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”
“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”
He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down.
“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”
“Sex?”
You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!”
He laughs again, a little less reserved this time.
“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”
“No! Too scary!”
Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder.
“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”
“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”
“That’s impossible.”
Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.”
His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could.
“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”
The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs.
“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”
When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips.
“I sleep with my eyes open.”
“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”
You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”
“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”
“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”
———————————————
Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade.
Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.
“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin.
“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.
“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“
“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”
Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh.
“I did not get all weird.”
“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”
He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”
Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”
And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles.
“Now you’re getting brave?”
“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders.
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements.
“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg.
“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly.
“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”
A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs.
“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”
“Is that what happened?” he teases.
“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents.
Almost.
“Slow down.”
He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed.
“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”
His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention.
“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him.
Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm.
“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”
His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him.
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back.
Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”
Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them.
“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again.
“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”
You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—
“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”
Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”
It works for him.
When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good.
Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs.
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips.
“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice.
“You’re sensitive, huh?”
“S—sometimes.”
He hums contemplatively.
“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”
You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum.
“About what?”
“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine.
The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.
“You.”
“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”
Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.
“Really?”
“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?”
You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”
“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”
You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again.
His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”
“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you.
A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away.
“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet.
“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes.
“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it.
“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”
But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message.
Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky.
“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”
It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort.
Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh.
“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly.
His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile.
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”
“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily.
“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”
Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck.
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly.
“Then we both did it right.”
“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.”
“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”
Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?”
“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”
The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy.
“Because I can’t have you all the time.”
“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”
“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids.
He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin.
“You’re shockingly precocious.”
You hum.
“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”
He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”
“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you.
He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;
I love you
I love you
I love you.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fic#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine
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We are together
You as Maeve & spencer
After getting shot by your stalker you got taken to the hospital and you were in a coma for 3 months
Reid visits you everyday and brings you flowers
One day you woke up while reid was working on a case the doctor called him and he rushed over to see you he grabbed your hands and tear up
"Maeve I'm glad your ok ! " He kissed your hand
You smile "wow it's like a flower garden in here who brought me all those"
He blush and said "me I did its all from me "
You smile "thanks reid ! I love it!"
He says "I'll spend the day with you so I'll text hotch for a day off "
You smile "are you sure ?"
He nods and texts hotch
Reid - hey hotch I need a day off today Maeve just woke up so I want to spend a day with her
Hotch - sure take your time see you soon
Reid took you to the restaurant that first date that didn't go well finally you both get to eat peacefully without worrying about your stalker
You ordered speggeti and he ordered steak
While you eat you ask "do you remember this place? "
He nods "ofcourse that one date I told you to go home and we didn't end up eating so here we are an official date a first date !"
You both had a toast for the happy momment that your our of coma and its your first time with Reid
Reid says "cheers! To the both of us our first dates!"
You smile and clink the glass on his "cheers!"
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#reid x y/n#spencer#spencer reid#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds maeve
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So, this is the first anything I'll ever post.
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Hi, I don't have a wattpad that I post on, but I wrote something that I've been sitting on for a while. It's a little wordy so here's just a section of it
[This is barely edited]
I hope u enjoy :)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Console ~ Spencer Reid
> Wordcount : 636
> Content : Angst / Comfort / Slight Fluff
> Pronouns used : Feminine ( I.e. She / Her / Hers )
> Warnings : Themes of infidelity, age gap ( Unspecific as there is no specific time this is set ), crying, slight arguing ( Mostly frustration ), poorly written.
With that, she didn’t know what to say. He'd forced it out of her now. "I just wish you wouldn't've told them."
Her defensive stance faded slightly as she settled herself against the table. Folding her arms, she let out a huff, hoping it would release some frustration. She almost sighed a second time at how unsatisfying it was.
Spencer threw his hand to the back of his neck with a weary look washing over his face. "Look, you probably feel embarrassed-"
"Wow." She scoffs again, cutting him off. She began shifting her weight from foot to foot in an attempt to ease her anger.
Spencer threw his hand to the back of his neck. "-and you shouldn't be. I was the one who- I should be the embarrassed one."
"What?" Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t want them to know.”
His eyes widened and his voice picked up. "They- They were haphazardly accusing you of something I did! I couldn't listen to their baseless speculations any longer!"
His words pulled tears from her eyes. Why did he only ever protect her after she got hurt?
"Spencer, It's humiliating!" She dryly screeched, a frown now taking over the open-mouthed disbelief she’d exuded through her sarcastic smiles.
"Now, I’m the naïve, dough eyed, twenty-something, bimbo, who allowed herself to be your mid-life-crisis! To them, I was clearly suffocating you, being basically attached to your hip at all times!" She pulled her hands to her face, just as she was about to break down. She wiped her tears aside, took a deep breath, and suddenly, her demeanor shrunk her into something small and wounded.
"No, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry."
It was when the man known for his composure’s voice cracked that she felt an imaginary golf ball pushing on the walls of her throat. All she could think was; ‘Don't cry, don't cry.’ ‘Don’t make me cry.’ ‘Don’t cry.’ ‘Don't-’
"Me too," She exhaled sharply, she wasn't sure she'd even taken in any air beforehand. "You have no idea."
"It's the worst thing I've ever done, I have never betrayed somebody's trust like that." She seemed overwhelmed by his words, like she wished he were more characteristically apathetic about the situation. But the fact that he cared so much, and that he was so good, made her almost annoyed. Why couldn't he be more uncaring? Like most other men she'd known. Like himself.
"Y/n,"
"Hm?" She managed to push out, knowing that if she opened her mouth even slightly she'd be wailing.
His eyes switched to the ceiling momentarily, hoping to combat the tears that were threatening to show. For minutes they sat, each painfully holding their emotions inside.
"After I did it, every time I looked at you, everyday, I wanted to die."
"Good." "I'm glad you felt bad at least."
"Feel bad,” Spencer sighed, his eyes dancing around the room through his foggy sight. “I feel like, I don't know," He huffed a breath through his closed lips. Aiming to blink back tears for a second time. "Like I ruined something wonderful."
The saddest look leached over her usually rested face. "Mhm." She almost sobbed. Her lips were closed so tightly, she thought she might bite through.
Though, try as they might, neither were capable of holding onto their cries for another second. Then, he cut through the air to console her. Their foreheads pressed together gently as he softly grazed his hands up to cradle her cheeks. At the movement, she gripped his wrists, allowing him to brush her streams of tears away with his thumbs.
A moment later, he even decided to pull her closer to where she could hide her crying self wrapped in his arms, with her hands against his chest. With every jolting sob, he accompanied with a matching breathy one.
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