#spencer reid resolved angst
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
word count: 1.8k
warnings: angst, resolved angst though!! i keep promises!! also, shower scene but sfw !! i am just a slut for an innocent shower scene
part 1
Spencer doesn't come back that night and you sleep alone in the bed. It's too big, too empty, too quiet.
Your morning feels liquid without him. He usually makes the coffee, you figure out lunches. Brushing past each other, gentle hands, gentler smiles.
Everything feels hollow -- off-kilter. You're late to work for the first time in years, running behind with raw eyes and no reminders of the time shouted across the room.
Of course, you're used to the mornings that he's away. When he's in a different state you do this alone all of the time, but it's punctuated with texts and calls and promises that this isn't your new normal.
But now, the possibility hangs low over your head, a storm cloud dripping steadily over you as you work.
Annoyingly, the weather doesn't reflect your mood: it's sunny, there's a breeze, leaves cover the ground. It's the sort of weather you would convince Spencer to take a walk in. It's the sort of weather that, eons ago, he would have noticed and brought you out to walk in without you asking first.
It's not easy to notice when the shift happened. One moment he was exactly who you fell in love with: passionate about his job, sure, but equally excited about you. But, slowly, he changed. Like ice melting in water left outside, the parts of him that made every moment apart worth it slid down the glass and evaporated. The Spencer left is vacant, reading files at home even when you know he doesn't need to. He hasn't planned a date in months, hasn't texted you because he read something new that he wanted to share, hasn't seemed to see you for longer than a few seconds in weeks.
You tried to bring it up to him but the conversation was put aside because of a work call. He had to go but he pressed a kiss into your hair, hugged you tight, and promised you would work on it. Together.
That was over a month ago and he's made no effort. If anything, things have gotten worse. You can't remember the last conversation you had with him that had any true substance.
"Alright, go home." Your boss' voice cuts through your thoughts, startling you into the now.
"Sorry?"
"Go home, get some sleep, you look like shit," he says, shaking his head at you. "Don't argue, you're only missing a few hours, we'll survive without you."
Thanking him, you gather your things and begin the walk back to your car, scattering the fallen leaves with your feet.
You try to think of anything else as you get in the car, turning on music. It's hard, but you do it. You think about what to cook for dinner, what chores need to get done, mundane things that usually plague you.
You don't think about if you still have a relationship. You refuse the thought every time it creeps into your mind, shaking your head as if to physically remove the thought.
Spencer's car is in the driveway when you pull in. You put the car in park and stare at it, letting your head slowly fall forward and cheek rest on the steering wheel. He was so rarely home in the middle of the day on weekdays. You're not sure if you're ready to face him but know you have no choice.
With a sigh, you get out of the car and make your way into the house.
You can hear him moving around in the kitchen when you push the door open. Quietly, you slip out of your shoes and set your things on the table. Without saying anything, you go to your bedroom and start the shower.
You're tired of always initiating the conversations. You're tired of seeking his attention, practically begging for it, only to be shut down. Let him come to you if he's really sorry -- if he even is sorry.
You've been in the shower less than a minute when you hear your name being called. The bathroom door opens and you can just make out Spencer's head poking inside the room through the shower curtain.
"Hello?" He asks, stepping inside.
"Hi."
"I didn't hear you come in." You don't answer him, wetting your hair instead. "Can I sit?" He asks after a moment, his voice hesitant.
"Sure, if you want."
You watch as his shadow crosses the bathroom and he sits on the toilet, slouched, forearms resting on his knees.
"I was an idiot last night," he starts. You stay quiet, silently agreeing as you begin to shampoo your hair. "I can't honestly say anyone or anything is more important than my job. And I know you understand that, you've always understood that. I mean, I'm saving lives. Protecting people. What I do, it's important."
"I know," you say, softly.
"I know you know," Spencer says, just as softly, voice hurt. "But that doesn't mean you're not important or that I can treat you as less of a priority. Because you are, you know. A priority. Pretty much my main one."
You hang your head under the warm water, watching it drip through your hair and take the suds away with it. The soap runs down your arms, down your legs, and swirls around the drain. Steam lifts over the curtain, filling the air and making your eyes hazy.
There isn't much to say other than, "I haven't really felt like one."
"And I was an asshole when you tried to tell me, I know." Spencer rubs his hands across his face, voice agitated.
"What happened?" You ask, eyes still trained on the drain.
"Nothing, really. I think I just let myself get too sucked in. I mean, you've always been so consistent in my life, even before we got together, that I just sort of always expect you'll be there for me."
"I will," you admit, leaning against the wall of the shower so you can watch his shadow move as he speaks. It's true, you'll always be there for Spencer.
Spencer shakes his head, leaning forward and resting it in his hands. "You shouldn't have to if I can't prove the same is true in reverse. I should be just as consistent. I used to be just as consistent. I prided myself on how well I managed our relationship and our job. I got too comfortable, too cocky, too sure that I couldn't fuck this up that I ended up doing just that."
"I don't think you've fucked this up." Spencer laughs, low and harsh, lifting his head to look at the ceiling. "No, really. I think you just fucked up but it's nothing that can't be fixed."
"You deserve better."
"You are better, Spencer. I know you are. You're just going through something. I don't know what, I don't even think you know what, but if you let me in, we can work through it together. Just, you can't push me away."
"I don't even want to push you away, that's the thing. I can tell when I'm doing it but I can't figure out how to stop."
"Well, this is the best way to start. By telling me. I trust you. I trust us. Do you?"
"I trust you," Spencer says, voice breaking. "And, yeah, I trust us."
"Then that's all we need, no?"
He joins you in the shower a few minutes later. All innocence, helping you wash your hair and letting you wash his. The water is warm, you're in each other's spaces, not talking but just together.
It's the mundane task that truly starts to make you feel better. He's gentle as he works conditioner in your hair, eyes shut in peace when he bends down for you to run your fingers through his.
He jumps out before you to grab your towel, opening it and wrapping you up before hugging you. Warm, steady, he rubs small circles on the nape of your neck, under your dripping hair, where he holds you close.
"I was going to make dinner, I was making a list when you walked in," he says when the two of you make your way back into the kitchen. "I wasn't expecting you to be home yet."
"I was sent home early because I looked tired. Well, he actually said 'like shit' but I know what he meant." You send him a sarcastic smile as you sit down at the kitchen table, leaning forward to look at his grocery list, puzzling out what he wants to cook. "What about you? Why are you home so early?"
Hands shoved in the pockets of his sweats, Spencer shrugs. "Today is pretty much just a paperwork day. I got what I needed to get done out of the way and went home. The team was confused but they'll be fine."
"You left early?" You ask, raising an eyebrow and your gaze to watch him.
"Like I said, you're a priority, too. You deserve to be treated like one. I can't leave early most days, but the ones I can ... you deserve that, at the very least."
You stand, shuffling over in your socks, to hug him around the waist. His hands come to wrap around your shoulders without hesitation, smoothing over your hair.
You stand like that for a minute, his grasp firm, your nose pressed into his neck.
"We're going to be okay," you whisper, just as much for him as yourself.
"Of course," he replies.
here u guys go, luv u <3
i have something else (much much better writing quality wise imo) in the drafts so keep an eye out!! this is just a silly little thing but i still enjoyed seeing ur guys' reactions to it !!
#bubbs.writes#fluff#criminal minds#x reader#cm#angst#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer x reader#spencer reid angst#resolved angst#part 2#spencer reid resolved angst#hurt/comfort#spencer reid x reader#reid x reader#criminal minds x reader
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✍️Introduction and Masterlist✍️
About me: Hi! I'm Kacie, I'm 21, and I use she/her/any pronouns. I'm from the UK but I'm currently an English Teacher in South Korea (if you want to know more I'm totally open to conversations about it!) and this is my side blog, so I follow and respond to comments from @studykac
Writing: At this point in time. I only write for Spencer Reid. I will pass on any requests that focus on other characters because I don't currently write for them. A lot of my work is also NSFW. If you are under the age of 18, do NOT interact with any of my posts that are tagged #maturereiding - please block this tag!! When my requests are open you can request through the Ask box, or through DMs, but please keep in mind I do have a full time job, so I will do my best to get things out quickly. You can find my recommendations in the tag #reiderrecommends!
Other interests: kpop, especially Seventeen, SHINee, NCT and BTS, Criminal Minds (obv), NCIS, reading any genre of books (here's a link for my GoodReads page), Percy Jackson, languages (learning Korean currently!), English Literature, Jane Austen etc.
Requests are: CLOSED - find my request guidelines here!
Writing:
Spencer Reid x Reader NSFW
Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress // 3.8k
Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.
Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification
Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress pt. 2 // 2.4K
Summary: After a hot encounter in your car, Spencer pulls you inside your apartment hoping to give you some more relief from the heat.
Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, soft Dom, oral (M receiving), pet names, degradation, face fucking, messy sex, creampie, breeding kink
Margaritas and Mistakes // Part 1 // Part 2
Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.
Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, heavy petting, hickeys, making out, mentions of arousal etc. (part one)
Show You What Devotion Is ❤️🔥
Summary: After a lustful encounter on the jet, you and Spencer decide to try out a friends-with-benefits relationship. What you didn't expect was for his sex drive to be so high, and your need for him to overpower your ability to function properly.
Warnings: So many, check the post for details.
More Than Words 🫶 // 8k
Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, you're forced to ask your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.
Warnings: Mostly fluff, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.
The Us That Could've Been 💔 // 5.7k
Summary: They say to get over a man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't sure why the idea of you doing just that makes him feel so bad.
Warnings: angst, unprotected sex, creampie, spoilers for season 8, mentions of Maeve, Spencer is emotionally illiterate etc.
Unhappy Holidays 👻🦃🎄🎆// 5k
Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆
Warnings: Enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).
Flirting with the FBI // 7.1k
Summary: To catch a killer, you have to first out him on the FBI's radar. By hacking their systems and flirting with Spencer Reid, of course.
Warnings: Rough sex, Dom Spencer, bimbofication, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, use of slut and good girl, more in the fic warnings.
Spencer Reid x Reader SFW
The Lightbulb Moment // 4.8k
Summary: You want Spencer all to yourself for the first few months of your relationship and he's only too happy to comply. Unfortunately, you're two dumbasses who can't keep their hands off one another.
Just Hanging Out // 3k
Summary: To kick off your vacation, you find yourself at Rossi's mansion with your team for a big summer barbeque. A hammock in the garden catches your eye, and you enlist Reid to help you have some fun in the sun.
(Not smut but highly suggestive, read at your own discretion).
Isn't She Pretty, Daddy? // 2k
Summary: You're a teacher, and you have to call in one of your students' parents to talk about their recent troubling behaviour. It's more embarrassing than you thought when Spencer Reid shows up.
Series
That's What You Get // complete 💕
Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise that one of the sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs Reid.
Genres: Fluff, smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters, happy ending.
Playlist: Me and You in 2024
Summary: One song fic a week throughout 2024!
Genres: Various, check individual chapters for specific warnings!♡
Answered Requests
(NSFW) Request inspired by Taylor Swift's False God 🙏// 2.2k
(NSFW) Request for a soft!Dom Spencer with cockwarming and breeding kink 💕 // 2k words
(NSFW) Request for Reader introducing vanilla!Spencer to a BDSM lifestyle ✨// 0.7k words
(SFW) Request for Reader kidnapped by unsub and saved by Spencer 💕 // 2.2k
(SFW) Request for pregnant Reader and Spencer who is an absolute fool for her 🌸 // 1.2k
(SFW) Request for shamelessly flirting with an oblivious Spencer 😊// 2k
(NSFW) Request for post-Maeve Spencer who uses sex as a coping mechanism 🫡//4.6k
(NSFW) Request for alt!sub!Reader meeting the team for the first time (and they totally think she's the Dom) 🤭// 1.5k
(NSFW) Request for CNC office sex with Spencer 🚫// 1k
(SFW) Request for Spencer finding out you knew Emily was alive 😿// 0.7k
(SFW) Request for training session with Spencer 🤼♀️// 1.8k
(SFW) Request for I Can See You inspired angst 🥺// 1.7k
(NSFW) Request for Spencer making the reader beg for it ❤️🔥// 1.6k
(NSFW) Request for CNC with soft!Dom Spencer - shower sex 💦// 1.3k
(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - Professor Reid doesn't know he's distracting the class 👓// 3k
(NSFW) Request for Sub!Spencer begging reader to dominate him 🫣// 1.7k
(NSFW) Request for Genophobic virgin!Reader ❤️🩹// 5k
(NSFW) Request for Professor Spencer with a jealous gf 🐺//2k
(SFW) Request for reader helping Spencer through recovery 🤕// 1k
(NSFW) Request for possessive Spencer reacting to your little black dress 💃// 2.5k
(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - Undercover with an "excited" Spencer 🕵♂️// 3.6k
(SFW) Request for playing video games with Spencer 🎮// 1k
(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - munch! Spencer is obsessed with you 👅// 2k
(SFW) Request for Spencer babying an oblivious reader 👶// 2k
(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - sharing a cold bed with Frenemy Spencer 🛌// 3.5k
(NSFW) Request for reader being distracted while Spencer is reading 📚// 1k
(NSFW) Request for Pillow fort sex with Spencer ⛺️// 2k
(NSFW) Request for car confession and oral with Spencer 🚗// 1.7k
(NSFW) Request for dancing the night away with Spencer 💃// 2.5k
(NSFW) Request for the morning after Spencer loses his V-Card 😶// 0.7k
(NSFW) Request for reader confessing to Spencer when he's in his anthrax shower 🚿// 0.7k
(NSFW) Request for Spencer finding readers unusual sensitive area 🤝// 3.5k
(NSFW) Request for Spencer and Hotch!Reader secret relationship 🤐// 6k
(SFW) Request for reader being jealous of Spencer and Lila 🤽♀️// 2.1k
(NSFW) Request for gun kink 🔫//3k
(SFW) Request for Shy! Spencer and Flirty!Reader 🫣 // 2.3k
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#reiderrecommends#spencer reid fanfic#Masterlist#criminal minds fanfiction
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Unwanted Attention [Hotch x Reader]
Prompt: Having to travel to the middle of nowhere Ohio for a serial killer was bad enough, add to the fact that the local LEOs are looking a little too hard at JJ, Emily, and _y/n_ was seriously testing Aaron’s resolve. Lots of protective Hotch here! This is another @imagining-in-the-margins inspired fic for her Meet Cute Writing Challenge. I’m using the dialogue prompt: “Watch where you’re going!” “… You ran into me?!”
Category: Angst/comfort - (mostly comfort I think).
Word Count: 5.8K
Content Warnings: Canon typical violence (serial killer - kills via strangulation but nothing explicit) unwanted physical touch (groping of the behind and pubic area) misogyny, sexism, the U.S. police, language, brief mention of intimacy.
A/N: Hi friends! I am very pleased with this one. I love writing Hotch with righteous anger. It just looks too damn good on him. I also love the duality of this man because one moment he is ready to bite someone’s head off and the next he only has eyes for you and he’s checking in and feeling guilty. You could read this story as a standalone or as a prequel to my story, Life can be Terrible, but At Least You're In It. (linked). I want to shout out @criminalskies for hyping me up while writing this. Last, if you enjoyed reading this, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! - Levi
List with all stories
y/n = your name
_f/c_ = favorite color
_l/n_ = your last name
_y/h/c_ = yuur hair color
Walnut Creek Ohio, who on the team had heard of it? Well apart from Spencer, because apparently he’d read a United States Atlas Map one night when his insomnia was bothering him, and he had retained all the information about nearly every tiny town that existed in the States. Spencer was rambling off facts about the tiny town stating, “There are 908 residents in the town as of 2017. It’s shocking that a serial killer would target such a small community where everyone has to know everyone else.” y/n, JJ, and Reid were all at the coffee station filling up cups. y/n pulled out her _f/c_ thermos. She always made sure that anyone who wanted coffee got to go first because her reusable metal container took about half the pot. y/n had finally wisened up after Emily and Spencer kept complaining about the coffee getting lukewarm, or worse, cold while sitting on the plane. Now her coffee stayed hot for hours if need be. She had bought the teammates that relied as heavily on caffeine as she did as Holiday or birthday gifts and the thermoses were stored away in one of her closets of her apartment, ready to be taken out and wrapped at the right moment. Spencer’s comment pulled her back to the present moments and she replied, “Nothing can stop a person going bad I guess. Not even a small town.” This stopped Spencer's comments on the location of the team's most recent case, and he shifted gears to talk about the psychological development of those raised in rural environments versus those raised in urban areas. y/n continued to listen to Spencer as he spoke, even if she couldn’t always keep up with his mile-a-minute commentary. She listened because Reid was a fount of knowledge and often a comment he made and maybe didn’t even remember would be helpful later on in the case. She also listened because sometimes the other members of the team didn’t when he spoke. It wasn’t that they didn’t think that what he was saying was important, it was just that they were trying to come up with their own thoughts and theories about the case. y/n was also guilty of tuning Reid out sometimes, but when she could listen to him, she did.
y/n had always been more of a listener than one to contribute to the conversation early on. y/n felt better about talking once she had more information and that normally wasn’t until the team arrived at the case's location or even saw the first crime scene. Once y/n had the bigger picture, she was ready and able to hope in and give her thoughts. Before that time came, she would listen and think about her prior knowledge. Although it might be less exciting than guessing and formulating theories, she found that often some basic information or past cases or criminals was useful when leads dropped or the case seemed to go cold. In her process, she was thinking about the future. As she had integrated into the team full-time at the beginning, Derek teased her for writing so much down in a notebook. She highlighted any relevant information the team stated or facts that seemed relevant. Morgan had joked in good humor but as the first few cases came to a close, the whole team slowly realized that she was approaching these cases from another angle, one that proved to be highly valuable at important points.
y/n settled next to Emily at her desk and pulled her go bag from underneath the space. The sound of Aaron’s door closing caught y/n’s attention. He was wearing that maroon tie she liked so much. She hadn’t told him that yet, it felt too trivial, but she really liked that tie on him. Aaron caught her eye for a moment and there was a small twinge in her chest before they quickly, discreetly looked away. Nobody knew that they were spending time together outside of work. They had to be discreet because it was mixing work and pleasure and in a place like the FBI, that didn’t just fly. y/n was sure Hotch knew everything about the rules and consequences of breaking those rules, but he hadn’t filled her in on those details. She had looked at the employee handbook but it was all legalese and it hurt her head. If she and Aaron did become more serious, and committed, she would ask him to interpret the confusing language for her. Thankfully they weren’t having a hard time keeping their work and private lives separate, yet.
Aaron felt the normal thrill of heading out to a new case. He considered the word, ‘thrill,’ thinking it wasn’t the perfect synonym for the arrival of yet another slew of murders, but it certainly wasn’t excitement either. Excitement meant something happy, something to look forward to. ‘Energized,’ his brain offered. Mentally Aaron nodded along, That would work for now. He had to be energized for this work. He wasn’t a young man anymore but there had to be a strength and calmness with him. He was the leader and even with Rossi being on the team for over a year, his agents still looked to him to make this all work. His eyes found y/n’s and there he found the look of thrill. This was still so new to her, even though she had been on the team for a while. He looked away as always, not giving into any desires that lingered when he was paying attention to his newest agent. He was grateful that y/n was professional and polite and had the utmost decorum even though outside of work they hadn’t been entirely professional. The thought of their last non-work meeting at her apartment and her heavy breathing and soft sounds on her lips, as he worked over her clothed body with his hands brought a momentatry flush to his face.
Hotch sobered as quickly as he had flushed as Dave came up beside him and said, “You ready for this?” Aaron looked over to his friend and bluntly replied, “As ready as possible, but it's still never easy.” Rossi nodded along as they both moved down the stairs and toward the parking lot. This line of work wasn’t easy. Aaron knew that every time his team left for a new case there was a chance that someone might get hurt, or even killed and no matter how good everyone was at their job, that possibility still worried him. y/n’s face popped up in his mind as he found his seat in the jet and he pushed away the thought. His relationship with her had shifted to something he wasn’t entirely sure he had under control. They hadn’t made anything official and hadn’t even said, “I love you,” yet. However, Hotch wasn’t a man who moved quickly, but as long as he and y/n had an open, honest conversation about where their feelings were headed, he wasn’t going to fight it. He had fought so many things, and people in his life that he didn’t have the desire to fight this too. Being around y/n felt good. It felt safe and he rarely got that in his life, so he was embracing it where he could. As JJ went over more of the facts and details regarding the case involving a serial killer wreaking havoc in the tiny town in Ohio, he shifted his full attention to what his media liaison was saying.
As the jet landed on the tiny airstrip, everyone got out and into the waiting SUVs. Aaron drove with Emily, Spencer, and JJ while Rossi took y/n and Derek. Spencer and Emily were discussing the need to work well with the law enforcement in the town as they were likely ingratiate into all aspects of the community. Meanwhile, JJ was preparing a statement for the media. In the other car, Derek turned from the front seat and asked, “So what are we thinking in terms of prior knowledge _y/n_?” y/n turned her gaze to Morgan’s and said, “Well strangulation is such a common signature that we’re going to have to look for something more specific to get traction here. The photos do look like this guy is strangling people from behind and the unsubs killing fit men someone who doesn't want to face what they’re really doing? Or it could be that they despise their victims so much they can’t stand to see them again, even while killing them?” Morgan nodded and elaborated on the idea that the killer might see these men as a competition of some kind. As having something the unsub lacked. This information allowed those in Rossi’s car to start to form a physical profile of the unsub. As the team made it to the small local police station, everyone got out of the parked cars and a man who appeared to be in his fifties who was balding badly came out to greet them.
Aaron stepped forward and extended his hand. The man took it and gave it a firm shake, saying, “I’m Officer Bronson. Thank you so much for you folks from coming out here.” Aaron nodded, replying, “I’m Agent, Hotchner and this is my team.” He indicated to the team, quickly introducing them. First, he gestured to JJ stating, “This is our media liaison, Jennifer Jareau.” JJ stepped forward and took the man’s slightly sweaty hand. Aaron moved through the rest of the team quickly, wanting to get the introductions over with and the real work started. He motioned to each of his agents saying, “This is David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Dr. Spencer Reid, _y/n_ _l/n_, and Emily Prentiss.” Each member nodded as Hotch said their name and Officer Bronson replied, Well welcome to Walnut Creek. I wish it was under happier circumstances. I’ll let you all get inside and out of this heat.” As the team moved into the small building, Aaron asked, “Is there a space where we can get organized and look at the evidence more easily?” Bronson nodded and led the team to a table at the back of a very small station and said, “Sorry it’s nothing fancy. I’ll have someone clean off the files and stuff off for you.” The man turned and semi-shouted, “Anderson, can you clear your junk off this table?” Anderson, a thirty-something-year-old moved around the team and got his things saying, “Sorry Chief.” Bronson looked to Aaron, almost for approval, and asked, “Will this do?” To which Hotch simply replied, “It’s fine.”
As the team settled a little y/n looked at JJ with a ‘Are you kidding me?’ expression and then looked at Anderson who was placing his numerous files on another table. JJ rolled her eyes in return. The fact that one of the officers had open files possibly containing sensitive or private data out on a table for anyone in the room to see displayed the station's lack of professionalism. The team worked up a preliminary profile and Aaron told Officer Bronson that they were ready to address his unit. Bronson called his team to the side of the room and as the officers sat down, Aaron moved forward saying, “Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for your attention. My name is Aaron Hotchner and I’m the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. This is my team, and we’re here to coordinate with you to try and stop these killings as quickly as possible. If you have any questions please hold them to the end. We appreciate you working with us, and now I’ll let Derek Morgan deliver our preliminary profile to you.”
Aaron stepped aside to let Derek deliver the profile. Hotch had asked Morgan to deliver the profile because something about the officers sitting in front of him didn’t seem like they were convinced that they needed the team's help. Given the fact that Derek was the closest in age to many of the officers, and he could be just as intense as Aaron if he wanted, Aaron thought that the men would respect Morgan over someone like himself or Rossi. It helped that Morgan also looked more like the policemen now listening with unveiled trepidation about the profile. This was another part of the job that Aaron disliked. He not only had to profile the unsub but the law enforcement officers as well. His team and the local authorities had to work together due to bureaucratic rulings and sometimes the officers didn’t want the Bau's assistance. The idea that the team was ‘taking over’ or ‘standing on their turf’ often caused conflict. Aaron always tried to nip this conflict early. His team didn’t need to worry about that and quite frankly they all had better things to do. Aaron looked at the ten seated men, as he listened to Morgan. Most of the officers were looking at Derek, but one or two were consistently looking over at JJ, y/n, and Emily. Aaron clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to sigh. He could tell whatever conflict his team and this police unit were going to have would be an uphill battle.
Hotch noticed when the men he was working with paid a little too much attention to members of his team. Hotch couldn’t deny that y/n, JJ, and Emily were all beautiful, intelligent, and capable and that combination was attractive. However, that did not give these men a right to act lewdly or leer at them. As Derek wrapped up the profile, he fielded a few questions from the assembled crowd. With that, Chief Bronson dismissed his men. Aaron gathered the team and they broke into smaller units to look for any clues that might bring them closer to finding the unsub. Aaron, Spencer, and y/n were headed to the high school which was the scene of the latest killing. Rossi and Morgan were headed to the hospital to see the bodies of the victims to determine if there was more to the signature than just strangulation. Lastly, JJ and Emily were going to go to the press to provide a statement for the townspeople who were panicking and holding up the police phones making those who really needed help unable to get it.
In the evening as the team regrouped at the station, there was the kind of frantic energy they got once the case had really started. y/n had lots of thoughts and was ready to see what the rest of the team had discovered. She knew she wasn’t going to see much sleep tonight, so she moved to the break room where the coffee pots normally were in police stations. As she approached the room she began to overhear a conversation going on inside. The snippet she heard was, “So who are you picking, Blondie, Brunette, or _y/h/c_?” There was a laugh before the other man in the room began saying, “What about all three?” There was more laughter at this and as the unseen man began saying, “But if you’re really making me choose…” y/n walked quickly away before she could hear the answer. As she moved back to the team she thought, ‘These guys really have no standards.’ She felt slightly repulsed but did her best to ignore the feeling. As she stepped back to the table, and Aaron looked over at her, he could see that something was wrong. A few minutes later, when he was finished listening to Spencer’s geographic profile, Hotch moved to stand next to y/n. In a quiet volume, he asked, “Is everything okay?” y/n looked up at him. His expression had the smallest hint of worry, and she alleviated that fear by saying, “Yeah. It’s nothing.” Aaron nodded and said, “Okay. Tell me more about what you were saying to Derek about the point of impact, we might be able to get a height on the unsub with that information.” y/n nodded and jumped into the conversation. Aaron could tell that something was off about y/n, but he wouldn’t push it. He trusted her to handle things herself and if she needed to, he knew she would ask for help.
The night wore on and eventually, the team moved to the tiny hotel the town had. There were barely enough rooms to fit them all. The town was very cozy and picturesque in its quaintness. y/n thought about this as she drove Derek and Rossi to the hotel. She assumed it was a nice place to grow up in. To grow old in. y/n wasn’t sure where these thoughts were coming from, but she chalked it up to tiredness and the case. Because for seven men there would be no growing old here or anywhere. The sadness of that realization only made her want to solve this case more badly. There were always a lot of emotions tied to the cases they worked on, and to protect herself, she had to try and stay disconnected from the pain and hurt that the victims and the victims' families went through. But she couldn’t always hold back those emotions and now was one of those times. As everyone settled in for the night and said their goodnights, which just meant ‘I’ll be sitting up in bed reading over the same evidence as you one door down,’ Aaron walked over to y/n and said, “Goodnight, y/n.” His brief interaction with her at the precinct from earlier in the day flashed in his head. He didn’t like it when she looked upset. It made him feel nervous, so he asked, “You’d tell me if something was wrong? Wouldn’t you?” The question came out of left field and y/n blinked for a moment, not really knowing why Aaron was asking. At this point, she had sort of forgotten the rude comments being made by the officers, so she replied, “Of course I would Aaron.” At her response, Hotch infinitesimally relaxed and the two headed for the elevator together. Rossi had seen the interaction between them. He didn’t hear what they said, or that y/n had used Hotch’s first name, but he couldn't help but feel that something was there between the two agents. Perhaps it was the way Aaron leaned down a little bit to be in earshot, or the way y/n looked at his friend like nothing else around her mattered. David wouldn’t say anything yet, but he was sure he was going to start paying more attention to Aaron. Rossi wasn’t against whatever was happening between his coworkers. Aaron had had a rough few months, and he thought the man deserved some comfort.
In the morning most of the team was out hunting leads. Derek and y/n had stayed back for a minute because _y/n_ thought she had seen something new in the geographical profile. They would both head to the sight of the first body once she had looked at the board again. y/n was standing, looking at the map, engrossed in the pins Spencer had pushed into all the significant locations thus far. She just barely acknowledged when Morgan said he was going to use the men’s room. She also didn’t notice when one of the officers came up behind her. The man extended a hand and grabbed her ass giving it a squeeze. At the unwanted touch, y/n whipped around saying, “Hey!” The phrases echoed around the nearly empty office. She looked at the man, clocking his name on his badge, Monroe. There was a moment of silence before y/n incredulously said, “What was that?” Monroe gave a laugh and said, “Sorry, babe. I thought you were interested.” With that, the officer quickly left, as he noticed Derek coming back from the bathroom. Monroe nearly brushed shoulders with Morgan as they both tried to fit through the door at the same time.
When Derek got into the room, he noticed that something was off about y/n. She was standing still with a look of shock and disgust on her face. y/n tried to fix her facial features back to normal, but Morgan had seen and quickly strode into the room next to her. Derek looked her over quickly and asked, “y/n, what’s wrong?” y/n looked to the floor for a second, biting the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t really believe what had just happened. For a moment she thought about lying but knew that Morgan would keep asking until she gave in. She sighed and looked up at Morgan’s worried face, saying, “That guy just groped me.” At hearing this, Morgan turned on his heel, but Officer Monroe was halfway out the door with Officer Anderson. They were both laughing at some unheard joke. It took everything in Derek to not go over to the two men and give Monroe an unadulterated piece of his mind. However, he knew that wasn’t his place really. And he wanted to make sure y/n was okay. He turned back to _y/n_ and asked, “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” y/n nodded her head no, saying, “No. I was just shocked, I guess.” Morgan nodded along and said, “It shouldn’t have happened, period. You need to tell Hotch.” y/n’s widened at the suggestion. It made sense of course. Issues like this were under his purview, but for some reason telling him about this made her hesitate. Before she could think about it too much Morgan repeated himself saying, “Hotch would want to know.” y/n put her palms up and said, “Fine, fine. I’ll tell him when he gets back.” Morgan gave her a look that made her say, “I promise I’ll tell him.” After a second of picturing that uncomfortable forthcoming conversation y/n said, “He’s gonna be so mad.” Derek could understand what y/n was saying but noted, “Maybe, but not at you, y/n.” There was another awkward silence before Derek finally said, “Do you need a few minutes, or would you like to head out?” Desperate for a distraction y/n, almost too quickly replied, “No. let’s go.”
At the supermarket where the first victim had been found. Morgan and y/n took notes and got the security footage. It seems like they had a real lead by finding the license plate of the van that had dumped the deceased man in the alleyway near the store's load bay. However, the footage was too grainy to make out. After finishing watching the video, y/n moved to call Garcia and see if she could enhance the video quality while Derek asked the security guard who had found the victim in the morning some questions. When she wrapped up her call with Garcia, y/n briefly slumped against the outside wall; closing her eyes. She tried to think about why talking to Hotch about what had happened with Monroe was bothering her so much. She knew that Derek was right. Hotch wouldn’t be mad at her, at all. Maybe it was a feeling of embarrassment? y/n’s logical side of her brain said that she didn’t need to be embarrassed. She hadn’t groped anyone, but the feeling persisted. Maybe because talking about the incident meant being vulnerable in front of Aaron which was all fine and good when they were alone in her apartment. But having to do so at work was entirely different. y/n let out a breath deciding to push all her feelings back for a moment. She would deal with it later. For now, she moved back inside the rendezvous with Morgan.
‘Later’ came as it always did. It was around five o’clock and the whole team was reconvening at the station. As the SUVs arrived one by one in the parking lot, everyone got out. y/n looked over the team. They all looked a little tired, but when didn’t they on a case? y/n felt the fatigue pull at her, but she knew she would find a second wind once she heard what everyone else had found out. She knew this unsub was here lurking in this little town, ready to kill again. She looked over to Aaron who was speaking to Emily about something. y/n desperately wanted coffee and she walked toward the front door as she got close, Officer Monroe walked out the door. His badge was off and it was clear that he was headed home for the day. y/n wondered if the man had a wife? Kids? The idea of it only made her more disgusted. As they neared each other she refused to make room for him on the sidewalk. She’d make him move aside for her. She wasn’t, however, going to look at him. y/n planted her gaze on the sidewalk. Much like Monroe’s unwanted touch that morning, she didn’t expect to walk into him full force. When she turned her face to the man he said, “Hey, watch where you’re going, sweetheart.” y/n could see that Monroe was actually enjoying this and she replied, “You ran into me!” Monroe smiled at seeing this woman like this -- uncomfortable. He had enjoyed the rush of her skin under his hands, and now he hoped for a repeat performance. Hardly thinking that there were others looking on, he quickly and forcefully placed a hand on her navel and then brushed downward. y/n stood stock still as this happened because she thought that it couldn’t possibly be happening. Not here in public, in broad daylight, in front of the whole team? It just couldn’t be happening.
Aaron was chatting with Emily about the profile as he looked over the team to see how they were doing. As he looked at Morgan, and Morgan returned his gaze with a facial expression that said, ‘We need to talk.’ Aaron gave the man a nod and Morgan looked over to y/n who was walking forward the precinct. Her shoulders seemed pulled tight under her shirt but in a way that hid that she was trying to hide her stress. He watched as she walked into one of the police officers from yesterday who had been overly enthused by y/n, Prentiss, and JJ’s presence. Aaron could barely hear the brief conversation between the two and as the word, “Sweetheart,” was thrown out, Aaron stiffened. And then it happened. He couldn’t fully see where or how far down the officer’s hand had landed because _y/n_ was blocking his view, but Aaron observed y/n stiffen, and that told him all he needed to know.
Before y/n could find her voice and tell Monroe to ‘get the fuck off of her,’ Aaron’s clear sharp voice addressed the officer like a whip. Like a wound aimed at the man who dared to touch y/n. Aaron was over to y/n in an instant. He placed a hand on her shoulder, firmly but gently pulling her frozen body back and behind him. Aaron towered over Monroe, and he felt his blood boil. Aaron let a harsh breath out and said, “If you value your job, and your pension you will get your hand Off. My. Agent.” Aaron highlighted each word that evinced his anger. Behind him, _y/n_ felt a wave of relief from being pulled out of that situation. Quickly Spencer and Emily were pulling y/n farther away from the scene, but she could distinctly hear Hotch say, “Get in your car and leave. Now.” Derek watched as Monroe slinked away to his car looking defeated and small. Spencer and Emily walked with y/n into the precinct, asking if she was okay, and the team as a whole huddled around her to make sure she was really alright. When she had reassured them, everyone except for Hotch moved away from y/n. Aaron placed a hand on her forearm and led her to a chair. She sat and let the exhaustion of the case, disgust at Monroe's actions, and the feeling of his hand on her body overwhelm her for a moment. A shiver ran through her. Aaron knelt down on one knee to be more on eye level with y/n. If his words before had meant to intimidate and accuse, his tone now was one of reassurance and comfort. Aaron spoke professionally but with a hint of something more that spoke to their relationship outside of work. He asked, “Be honest with me. Are you okay? Are you hurt or bruised?” Aaron’s voice helped still her thoughts and she assessed her body before saying softly, “I’m not in any pain.” She didn’t answer his first question because she didn’t particularly feel alright, but she knew she was safe now. Especially now that she was with Aaron. Aaron registered this and asked, “Has this happened before while we’ve been here?” y/n swallowed and replied, “Yes, this morning right after everyone headed out for the day.” Aaron gave her that look that said, “Elaborate please.” y/n bit her bottom lip, wondering how to phrase what had happened. Not finding any more polite or dignified terms, she said, “Morgan had stepped out and I was focusing on the bulletin board and he, um, came up behind me and grabbed my ass.” She could see the anger, the controlled rage fire through him again and she wanted to say something to reassure Aaron that she really was alright, even if she wasn’t. However, he stopped her as the Chief of Police entered the building. Aaron turned his head back to y/n and said, “Excuse me for a moment.” Then with a tone of reassurance, he said, “This conversation isn’t over.” Hotch stood and looked at Emily who understood that he was asking her to sit with _y/n_. Prentiss moved to sit next to y/n. When this was done, Aaron turned his attention to the officer who had just entered the building and said, “Chief Bronson, your office, now.” His intonation left no room for questions or delays and the older man nodded and walked into his cluttered office with Aaron on his heels. Once the door was closed Hotch turned and he felt the anger bubble up to the surface again. As Bronson asked, “What seems to be the problem?” The man sounded nervous.
From outside the glass-walled room, the team listened as their leader said, “One of your officers just assaulted a member of my team.” Bronson’s response was inaudible, but Hotch’s reply of, “What do I mean?” Could be heard clearly. At this, the team flinched, knowing that the man inside with Hotch was about to have his soul ripped from his body and handed back to him. Everyone listened as Aaron said, “What I mean is that just a few minutes ago, Officer Monroe had his hands on a member of my team in a private area. And that wasn’t the first time this has happened today.” Aaron took a steadying breath before continuing, “As much as I respect law enforcement and what you do, I’m highly concerned about what’s just happened. If someone under your authority thought they had the right to touch a federal agent, I fear what’s happening with normal residents of this town.” Bronson stumbled to find words and said, “Well I certainly don’t condone that behavior.” Aaron let out a harsh scoff, not truly believing the man saying, “Perhaps not, but that doesn’t change the fact that your officer felt entitled to do what he did. And I don’t think Monroe thought he was going to face any consequences, and I can only imagine that he assumed that because you’ve let him get away with behavior like this before.” After this, Hotch’s voice dropped lower so the team outside could no longer hear him. Derek said, “Well I think Officer Bronson has had his ‘Come to Jesus’ moment.’” That comment actually made y/n laugh and she felt a little better now that she could laugh at this whole situation. Hearing Aaron stand up for her like that made her feel warm inside in a comforted sort of way. Aaron finished unloading with the warning, “You’ll be receiving an ethics complaint from the Department of Justice as soon as I’m back in Quantico. You might consider cutting your losses before then.” With that, he got up and left the office.
Later that evening in y/n’s room, she and Aaron sat. She was sitting on the edge of the bed facing Aaron who was in the only chair in the lamplit space. This was to be a continuation of their conversation from before. y/n looked over at Hotch and saw how perturbed he looked. She felt a tug in her chest seeing him like this. He already had to deal with so much and now there was this. She started the conversation in an attempt to soothe this new hurt by saying, “Hotch, it really wasn’t that bad. He didn’t hurt me, it was just unexpected.” At her words, he dipped his head and said, “It never should have happened, y/n. He touched you without your consent twice, and I couldn’t prevent it.” y/n frowned and felt that Aaron had to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders with this job. She said, “It’s not your fault, Aaron. I know you see how they look at JJ, Em, and I.” Hotch lifted his head and placed a warm hand on her knee saying, “Of course I see, and it bothers me more than I can say. Having these men look at you is bad enough, but when one of them starts to act on those feelings, it's unconscionable.” y/n saw that she wasn’t going to make him feel any better, so instead she put her hand over his and gently rubbed over his knuckles with her thumb. She said, “I’m going to be okay Aaron. And if I’m not, I’ll let you know. Thank you for looking out for me.” Hotch let out a breath at her touch and words, simply replying, “Always, y/n. I’ll always be here.” He wanted to lean in and press his body to hers. To cover her from unwanted attention and hands. But there was still a case, and she looked tired, but he promised himself when this was solved that he would be spending a considerable amount of time either on his or her couch with y/n on his lap and his arms settled around her; as long as that was something she wanted of course.
The case wrapped up a few days later and the team headed home. On the plane ride back, y/n crashed on the couch facing Spencer. Emily, Rossi, and Morgan watched with a small amount of surprise, then a soft understanding as Hotch quietly took off his blazer and placed it over her curled, sleeping body. And when Rossi left his office and walked toward his car he stopped and made sure Aaron and y/n didn’t see him as Hotch held y/n and leaned down to kiss her forehead. As Hotch wrapped her in his arms, y/n’s hands moved to his chest, and after everything that had happened on top of the case, at least she knew that she was always safe with him.
#criminal minds#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotcher#criminal minds x reader#hotch x reader#fanfiction#reader insert#reader x hotch#angry hotch#protective hotch#derek morgan#emily prentiss#hotch blurb#comfort fic#hotch angst#i made this for you#spencer ried
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good days
a/n: toxic spencer(?), sad angst, no happy ending, rushed as always!!! 💞
too soon, i spoke
it was hard to see him, lately. you didn't think you could ever feel this way with spencer, not once could you anticipate this feeling. he was the first thing to come to mind whenever someone mentioned love, he was the first person you talked about when people mentioned your person. he was everything and more you could've ever wanted in a man. strong, kind, compassionate and intelligent. no one else simply could compare.
but recently he'd been so absorbed with work and paired with all the trauma that had happened to him it was natural and inevitable he was getting a bit distant with you. and still, not once did you complain. no, you played the part of a doting loving partner even when it almost killed you. even when your team looked at you with worry, still you forced a smile on your face and reassured them all was well. this was natural, this was him processing his emotions and you'd do everything to make it better.
even when he shouted, even when he was silent, you took it all. you should've never had to, he should've been grown enough to communicate since it was something he always did. but you figured if you stuck it out, kept going because it was bound to end. there would be light at the end of the tunnel surely, your salvation would come soon, all you had to do was be patient enough to receive it.
you be heavy in my mind
but then days trickled into weeks and soon enough it had been a month and his mood was still the same as it was before. unpleasant and insufferable.
you quickly come to realise that you can't take his pain away, not when you realise you are the very cause of it. he doesn't explicitly what's wrong with him but then he never was good at doing that. he never was good at sharing his feelings and thoughts, preferring to bottle them until it shattered or until he was forced to say.
it wasn't as if you didn't try. you had talked and even pleaded him to say what had been nothing him but every conversation was simply shut down or he stormed off not wanting to deal with the confrontation. and it hurt more than you could've possibly imagined, the love of your life was pulling away from you and there wasn't a thing you could do to stop it. work had become a distraction and now you looked forward to the busy days and long nights, anything to keep you distracted from your crumbling relationship with him. anything to stop the thoughts spiralling out of control
can you get the heck out?
but it was hard when you both worked the same profession and were also colleagues. nothing could've prepared you for how petty and how childish he acted. you know he's gotten closer with others more than you, you can see how his dimpled smile lights up his face when he talks to emily, jj or morgan.
but still your heart holds out hope that he was spencer reid. he was your spencer, the man who held you with so much adoration. the man who rambled about his little facts, eagerly explaining and telling you the meaning behind every single one. the man who surprised you with flowers every friday, who marked and memorised every special occasion no matter what. he was spencer reid, and he was yours. this was just a phase, everything was bound to get better again.
only no matter how many times you try and persuade yourself the same things you're not so sure you both can get by this.
he's working by his desk and for a minute, you wonder going up and greeting him. it hurts you with just how much he's at ease with jj and morgan, how he chuckles and writes away on the files, the frown lines are gone. your heart shatters when he doesn't even look your way.
his laugh calls out to you like a siren, even when your heart feels like shattering and splintering, he still manages to puncture holes in your resolve. you still find a soft sad smile on your lips whenever he laughs. even through the hurt and the pain, there's happiness for him that lays in your aching heart. even when you want to cry and scream, a warm feeling remains close by at how happy he looks.
i need rest now, got me bummed out
the walls that you and reid had so painstakingly chipped away were beginning to form again, it was so obvious and yet he couldn't care. he couldn't bring himself to even acknowledge you some times let alone talk.
but you're snapped out of your thoughts when morgan calls your name, finding his smile to be welcoming after the last miserable weeks with reid. and soon most of your team is sitting by your desk, eagerly chatting away their weekend plans. it's much more easier to nod and smile than to explain you'd be living the same pitiful weekend routine for the last month.
and then he comes by, holding a few files in his arms. darkness swirls around his stoic form, flowing like mist on a cool morning. he silently adjusted the cuff on his sleeve before looking at you with clear intense eyes. a frigidity he wasn't even aware of iced his gaze and froze his jaw and perhaps you could appreciate the beauty that was him if he wasn't so cold. how his curly hair managed to fall so perfectly across his face, how his eyes were a kaleidoscope of beautiful colours, how you could simply look at him for a second and find everything little thing about him endearing.
but as he stares at you, you resist the urge to tremble under his gaze. every muscle in his face created a perfectly crafted message, he wasn't one to be trifled with. and you had certainly lost your privilege to pretend otherwise. the words simply die on your tongue as he watches you, much like the feelings he held for you
looking at him now, you're not sure what you thought you knew about him. every moment shared together, every kiss planted on your skin, everytime your fingers interlaced, every time he promised, all of it seemed like a daze. all of it seemed like a mirage, an illusion your mind had come conjured up to prevent you from seeing the cracks there.
you forget however, that cracks fester and grow, no matter how one tries to hide them, they will continue to rot the foundation. they are penetrative, able to crumble even the most strongest of walls.
your best friend, your beautiful boyfriend, your heart and soul, standing opposite you and all you can see is the cracks in him. where once you had tried to fill with love and being more than you were, it all proved to be unsuccessful. you were y/n, you were never going to live up to his ideal woman.
and that hurt more than any fantasy your mind could ever conjure up
i've been on my empty mind shit
everything was going worse, you didn't think spencer could ever introduce you to new lows but then again parts of you could argue that you never really knew him.
even at home, there seems to be this division almost. he doesn't come to you and you stay out of his way, that's the way it's been for weeks and you hate it with every part of you. his face is rigid and stone cold, he doesn't even eat with you at the dining table he excitedly chose out when you first shared this apartment. gone are the times where you'd both be in this bubble of happiness, baking together while he lazily pulled you to his chest and peppering kisses to your forehead. both of you dancing so gently with the beat of the soft music playing in the background.
there's no movie nights either, no more evening spent bundled up in his arms as you both watch a documentary about the latest thing you were interested in and him being unable to stop looking at you with love and happiness. there's no more soft moments during the day, both of you in a comfortable silence as you go through case files but feeling his hand or leg touch up on you.
he always had a special habit of constantly touching you and it's one thing you've missed so greatly, so inexplicably it almost reduces you to tears. spencer usually wasn't much for physical contact but he couldn't let you go if his life depended on it, he always constantly had to be touching you in some ways. and at first he was embarrassed at how touchstarved he truly was but you never once made him feel bad about it. in fact, you'd always encourage it from him. you seemed his comfort just as much as he needed yours.
but he simply stopped touching you, backed away as if he simply couldn't stand you. there were no hugs and kisses, no more cuddling and snuggling in bed. no more running his hands across your body and face as he plants the sweetest kisses upon your skin. your spencer has gone and in his place is a man you don't recognise anymore
i try to keep from losin' the rest of me
the moment of solace when first waking up, and everything that had ever gone wrong evaporates for a few seconds. it's your way of trying to find peace in those fleeting moments, dreaming of a world where you and reid are side by side laughing and having fun like you once did. yearning for when he used to dote upon you as if you were the most precious thing he could ever have, cherishing you as though you were his only one.
every morning it's the same and it aches even more when the moment ends and reality comes crashing down and once again, you're left to pick up the pieces he's broken. you sleep in the guest bed now, and every morning when you open your eyes you expect to see his frame sleeping soundly beside you. his curly hair a cute mess upon his forehead, his arms cocooned around you encasing you tight within his chest and the blanket. and when the vision fades away, the tears falling on your cheeks it's a cold reminder that he knows the pain he's causing you, he simply doesn't care about it.
you can hear him stir awake in your bedroom, it physically hurts when you see just at how unbothered he seems. while parts of your sanity rips away every day being away from his love, he seems so calm and collected. you both get ready in separate rooms now. he doesn't ask you to fix his crooked tie or help tame down the front curls. he also doesn't help you with your work outfit, giving you gentle pecks as you both sleepily get ready for the day ahead. it's even come to the point of taking two different cars to work, the awkward silence had become too unbearable and you couldn't handle him acting as if you were a plague to mankind anymore so you made your won way to work.
he certainly didn't seem to be affected by it, he arrived to work and got to his desk reading over the previous case files. whenever you entered the precinct, his head didn't even look your way. he was so good at making you feel so miserable and alone, you wonder how he was ever capable of loving. you wonder how he was ever capable of making you feel like you were on top of the world and then making it spin on its axis with a click of his fingers. you gave him your all and in return, all he ever gave you was pain and sadness.
i worry that i wasted the best of me on you, baby
the team forced everyone to go out tonight after a particularly rough case and for once, you didn't fight them. what was the worst that could possible happen anyway, your relationship with the person you loved wholeheartedly was slowly shattering and there wasn't a thing you could do about it.
the night was young and after staying at the bar, a handsome man walks up to you. for once you find yourself in a comfortable conversation with someone who actually wants to engage and speak with you about your interest and passion. it'd been so long since you actually received this attention from your actual boyfriend, you didn't even realise how much time had passed and you still chatted and laughed with him.
but as you lean on your hand, you can feel a pair of eyes almost burn into you and slowly you look to the side. his face is blank and yet his hazel eyes are pained, so much so you can practically drown within them. your heart feels like it's dropped to the darkest depths of the world and you hate how much you want to hold him tight, be there for him, even when he's done nothing but cause you pain. love shouldn't be this difficult, it didn't need to be this much anguish and so much sleepless nights wondering if it was all worth it.
but spencer reid was the man of your dreams, someone you thought would be forever. he promised you he would be. he promised to always be there, to be the one to take away your pain never the one to be the reason for it.
as much as you desperately want to run to him, your feet stay planted on the floor beside the stranger. not moving an inch away.
his eyes look so hurt, a slight frown as he looks away for a second and then back at you. but you just look at him, a moment of sadness crossing your eyes before you wear the facade you've become an expert at crafting back on again. it simply wasn't your job to pick up the pieces, not anymore. your eyes connect for just a brief moment once more, everything you wish you could've ever said rolls off of you in waves
i loved you, i loved you, i loved you-
"c'mon sweetheart" you let the man take you away by your hand, walking straight past your lover without so much as a second glance. his gaze burns holes into your skin, you can feel it from all the distance growing in between you both as your feet stray further and further away. every step, your heart begs to run back to the same arms that have rejected you. every second spent away, your body aches to be held and kissed with the same sweet lips that adored you back then. but you don't give in this time.
no, he broke you and in response, you watched him break.
so you continue walking, hand in hand with another. for how could you lose someone that never loved you? how could keep something that was never yours?
but you don't care
#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x reader angst#spencer reid x y/n
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WHYYYYYYYYYY
♥ Summary: I'M SO SORRY. in this chapter of nightmare academia, spencer gets what he deserves and then some. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]
♥ Warnings: the reader is VERY mean to spencer- i mean, he definitely deserves some of it but oh my god, the reader is almost homicidal. mentions of maeve, a side character's shitty ex is following them, sadness, anger, angst
♥ A/N: i just want to point out, i think the reader was in the right with their argument in the last chapter. anyway, fun fact- some of the Fun Names the reader calls reid are references to the tin can bros production, "the solve it squad." neat :D
♥ Word Count: 3812, a few dozen of which came from @mxcheese
Series Masterlist
♥♥♥
Spencer felt like absolute shit- and he should have. He’d been a massive fucking dick to you and for what? He'd taken the objectively wrong side in that argument, and for what? To protect himself from future grief? To protect himself from the guilt of moving on from Maeve? He’d succeeded. He’d driven you away. Maybe that was for the best, but god did it not feel worth it.
He’d hurt you. He’d done it on purpose. He’d gone for your insecurities, for the things he knew would hurt you the most. He tore at your weak spots like a feral dog, and he regretted it the moment the words left his mouth.
He watched you drive away. He watched as your car got smaller and smaller until he couldn’t see it anymore. Then, he buried his face in his hands and tried not to scream. He stood out there in the cold on the side of the street until Morgan came to get him.
Morgan didn’t ask what had happened. He already knew Reid had done something stupid.
“My advice, kid?” Morgan said as he dropped Reid off later that evening, “Call them. Apologize to them. Solve whatever issues you have, because someone like that doesn’t come around every day.”
Spencer sighed, “Look, I know you want me to sleep with them, or whatever, but that isn't going to happen. It was never going to happen.”
“This isn’t about sleeping with them. This is about being a good person. I’ll see you around, kid.”
Like that, Morgan was gone, and Reid was alone. He didn’t call you. He didn’t apologize. He just curled up in his bed and let himself decompose. He told himself he was giving you space. He was letting you process things. Really, he was letting his own guilt swallow him. He was drowning in bedsheets and sorrow, and he didn’t care about coming up for air.
When he went into work on Monday, you were nowhere to be found. This was normal. You didn’t hold any classes on Mondays. Still, you had left things behind for him before- missing mugs, cans of creamed spinach, locks on all his cabinet doors. That Monday, there was nothing. There were no traces of you left behind. You were haunting him.
He stopped by your office. Obviously, you weren’t there. The door was locked tight. Reid still found himself trying to open it, trying to get into the small room that held so many parts of you inside of it. You were haunting it. You were haunting him.
When he returned to his own office, he knocked his copy of Pride and Prejudice off the shelf. He’d annotated it, reading it along with the articles you’d written on the topic. He loved the way your mind worked. He loved a lot of things about you. And what had he done? He’d hurt you. On purpose. And now, you were fucking haunting him.
And by the time his final class rolled around, Reid had resolved to do something about it.
-
You, on the other hand, were doing pretty good. True, you had sobbed your eyes out as you’d pulled away from the bar. The second Reid was out of sight, you had actually pulled over, deciding it wasn’t safe enough for you to drive in your emotionally volatile state.
You didn’t want to be upset about it. You weren’t upset about what you had said. You were right. Kate Callahan had made some majorly fucked up jokes. You had every goddamned right to be mad about that.
You also had every right to be pissed at what Reid said to you. He had been so incredibly cruel, hitting you where he knew it would hurt most. He’d called out your deepest insecurities. He’d called you stupid, told you you were right to be insecure, and insulted your academic work in the span of five minutes. You had every reason to hit the motherfucker with your car.
So why were you crying?
Once you’d calmed yourself down enough to drive again, you headed straight to the nearest convenience store. You had wine at home, and you weren’t going back to your apartment until you had enough ice cream on hand to kill a man.
Maybe that’s what you would do. Fuck pranks, you would just murder Reid by way of ice cream. You weren’t sure how you would do that, but you wanted to.
You spent the rest of your night the way most people in your situation would- getting wine drunk, consuming ice cream, and watching terrible movies until you fell asleep. Honestly, it wasn’t the worst way to spend an evening. By the end of it, you felt significantly less shitty- you still felt stupid. You would probably always feel stupid now that someone had looked at your deepest insecurities and confirmed them. You felt better, though. That was all you could ask for.
The next morning, you took some aspirin and threw yourself into your volunteer work- GEDs baby, GEDs all around. While you wouldn’t teach in person until Monday, the weekend gave you ample time to answer emails from students, look over papers, and provide support to your students.
Really, the job wasn’t too difficult. You always got strange looks when you told people that you tutored former inmates out of the community center. Honestly, it wasn’t that big a deal. You just helped people learn in ways that actually worked for them. Some people were visual learners, some were auditory learners. Some preferred to analyze James Baldwin over Jane Austin, and others learned better when you described the plot of Pride and Prejudice as if it were a personal drama. People really took to it when you called Darcy a pretty boy asshole with a secret heart of gold.
By the end of your time with them, most of your students were ready to get their GEDs. Those who weren’t came back to you for more help. In other words, you were a good fucking teacher, even if you couldn’t see it.
When Monday finally rolled around, you were ready to go. You spent the day helping people achieve their full potential, watching people find new understandings of both themselves and their work. You were happy. You were content. And Reid hadn’t called.
You tried your best not to care. He was a former Fed who thought he was in the right. You shouldn’t care about him. Still, it was a difficult task to pretend you weren’t a tiny bit hurt that he hadn’t reached out to talk to you.
And it was a task that became much easier when two of your former students popped in that evening, massive grins plastered across their faces.
“Hey, Dr. (L/N), guess who got GED-ed!!”
-
The community center was an older building, still suffering from the pink coat of paint the government had smothered it with in the 90s. Since then, an update to the plumbing had been the only other remodelling the place had seen.
Spencer thought it was incredibly fitting that you spent your time off there. Of course you spent your time off in a run-down community center helping people learn things. You were awfully passionate about that.
He stood outside the building, in the parking lot, leaning against his car. The sun had just slipped beyond the horizon, leaving the sky a dark blue before true darkness set in. The lights from the building before him danced off the wet pavement.
Honestly, Spencer felt a little bit like a creep, watching people come and go. He was trying to build up the courage to go and face you. He would need it. He knew there was no chance that you would see his face and instantly forgive him. Honestly, it was more likely that you would throw something at him, and he would take it, because he fucked up and that’s what he deserved.
Spencer steeled himself, finally taking a step towards the community center when he felt something. Someone was watching him. He knew that feeling- the distorted tingling sensation of eyes on him. He looked around. The voyeur had to be around somewhere.
He was right. A few parking spots away, in a new-looking white car with a small dent near the passenger’s side door, a man sat staring at him. Reid locked eyes with the guy, staring at him until finally, the man in the car turned the key in the ignition. He didn’t break eye contact until he absolutely had to.
Spencer was thoroughly unsettled.
Oh well. He had a job to do, and that job was apologizing to you. (Besides, if this boy was capable of listening to his instincts, he wouldn’t have been kidnapped that one time. He also wouldn’t have broken your heart. Reid gets too much credit for being smart, I’m not gonna lie.)
He crossed the parking lot in a few strides and pushed open the doors. The woman at the front desk had a smile on her face, and when he asked for you, she pointed him in your direction without question.
The lights in the hallway were fluorescent. He wondered if you hated them. He wondered if you brought lamps to whatever room you worked in. It would sound crazy if it was anyone else, but you had sent a typewriter to his classes until he let his students use laptops. You absolutely could take a lamp to your classes. With you, Spencer didn’t know what to expect.
The door to your classroom was open. He could see you smiling, a plastic cup in your hand. You were talking to someone. Your smile met your eyes.
“Seriously, this is fucking amazing and I’m so proud of you both. You should be proud of yourselves!”
Someone laughed, a woman, “Look at us. Official accomplishments on official paper. The last time I had one of those, I was getting out of prison.”
“The last time you had what, an accomplishment?” Another voice- a man’s voice- asked.
“No. An official paper with my name on it. Y’know, I’m pretty sure some of those prison dudes thought my name was fake. Every time they had to read my full name, they would say it out loud- what’s so weird about Missy Marie?”
“Literally nothing. Your name is excellent. Don’t take it personally, prison guards are just like that. I have beef with most of the guards I’ve met, I’ll be honest,” you gestured with your cup.
“I can’t imagine why,” the man replied. Spencer could hear the guy’s smile in his voice. He could see the smile on yours as you playfully smacked someone in the room.
“It’s because they suck! It’s fine, though. One day, they’ll have to call you Dr. Missy Marie. Then they’ll be sorry.”
“Doc, do you know how much I’d have to pay to become a doctor? I’m not interested in worrying about student loans for the rest of my life.”
“Fair enough- you could do it, though. You’re a hard worker, you’re smart, and you have a brain for analysis. And hey, most places have scholarships, awards, bursaries- I have a list of them if you ever want to look into it.”
The woman paused. When she spoke again, her voice was a little quieter, but still confident, “I’ll think about it.”
A smile split across your face, blinding and bright, “Excellent.”
You were clearly at a high point- enjoying your night with your students, your friends. Realization struck Spencer like lighting. He never should have come here. He should leave you alone- you were doing fine. You didn’t need his apology right now. You didn’t need the foul memory of what he’d said to you disrupting your evening.
He took a step back- and of course, you heard him, looked up, and scowled. Your smile dropped from your face so fast, Spencer almost wondered if he had imagined it.
“(L/N), is everything okay?” the man asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Frank. It’s just that fucking Fed.”
“Shit, the Feds are here!?”
“No, no, just that professor I told you about.”
“Ah. That professor.”
You rolled your eyes and stood, placing your cup on the desk behind you and heading towards the door- towards Spencer.
“I’ll be right back. Sit tight, guys.”
You shut the door behind you. Then, you turned to face Spencer.
He didn’t know what to say. You had never looked at him like this before- with such contempt. Sure, you didn’t like him. You didn’t like him for most of the time you’d known him. But you’d never looked at him like he was a waste of space, a waste of your time.
“Just where do you get off?” you asked, voice low and heavy with rage, “You couldn’t wait until I came back to work to insult me? You just had to come to my other job? Well, go for it asshole. I’m here. Do your worst.”
Spencer remained silent, his lips parted slightly as he stared at you. There was something broken in his expression, and even though he didn’t intend to do it, the motherfucker was hitting you with puppy-dog eyes.
You wanted to smack those eyes right out of his fucking skull. You were a little worried, during your ice cream and alcohol binge, that you would cry again upon seeing Reid’s face. You were worried that you would see his pretty boy face and fold like something that folds easily. You were terrified that you would just forgive him even though he didn’t deserve to be forgiven.
Clearly, that didn’t happen.
“I- I’m sorry,” he stuttered out. You were unmoved. Fucker couldn’t even apologize to you without tripping over his words.
“Fuck your sorry. Get the fuck out of my classroom.”
“We’re not-” Reid cut himself off, “Look, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I want you to know that I was wrong. I made a mistake, and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that- any of it, and you were right.”
You glared at him for a second. He was correct about a few things- he didn’t deserve your forgiveness. He was in the wrong, you were right, and you didn’t deserve anything he said to you that night.
You still wanted to smack him.
So you did.
You smacked his arm with the sleeve of your sweater. Then you smacked him with the other sleeve of your sweater. He didn’t even raise a hand to defend himself, it was kinda pathetic.
“Fuck you,” you said with a smack, “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, go die.”
“Yeah, that’s fair,” he whispered, keeping his voice so quiet that only you could hear him- and he had the AUDACITY to sound somewhat affectionate. He was staring down with a look, one that would have told you he cared if you didn’t know better. But you did. You knew better, and Reid didn’t care about you. Fucker.
“No. No, Reid, what’s fair is me saying you’re a sad little fuck who went right for my deepest insecurities without a second thought like a damn child. What’s fair is me calling you out for using your psychoanalytical bullshit to keep others away. Like you’re scared of getting close to people. What do you think is gonna happen, Reid? Do you think people will stay, even if you treat them like garbage?”
He parted his lips to answer, but you didn’t give him a fraction of a chance.
“What’s fair is me informing you that they won’t. When you treat people like garbage, they leave, and then you die alone, and what’s fair is me asking you to go die in a ditch so I never have to see your stupid fucking face again.”
That motherfucker looked so hurt and so guilty and you kind of wondered if you took it too far at the end there. You carried on as if you weren’t wondering that, as if you didn’t feel bad about the kicked-puppy expression on his face.
“What’s fair is me telling you any of that shit. But I won’t. Because even though I’m just a stupid academic, I’m still a better person than you.”
You half expected him to fight you on it. You expected him to protest, or correct your grammar, or do something stupid. He didn’t. He just nodded in understanding, like he agreed with you. He looked at the floor, presumably in shame, and he said nothing.
You stood there, in that hallway illuminated by those terrible fucking fluorescents. The buzz of those goddamned lights filled the air, mixing with the sound of your breathing. You wondered if Reid could hear your heartbeat from where he stood. You decided you didn’t care.
The silence grew to be too much. Your throat was full of unspoken insults. Your skin cackled with the electricity of everything you wanted to say- with everything you wanted to do.
“Do you have anything else to say to me?”
Reid flinched at the sound of your voice. He wouldn’t look you in the eye, not that you tried to make him. He started to respond when Sheryl, the community center receptionist, came rushing down the hall.
“Dr. (L/N)- I think that white car is back.”
Immediately your expression shifted from one of anger to one of fear. You were worried, and if you were worried, then Reid was worried.
“Fuck-” you took a step towards the woman from the front desk, “Is it him?”
“I didn’t see the plate number.”
You sucked in a breath through your teeth.
“Is it a newer model? Dent in the passenger side door?” Spencer asked. When Sheryl nodded, Spencer repeated the entire plate number.
You looked at him with a mixture of confusion and contempt, but you didn’t waste any time on him.
“Shit,” you growled, turning quickly to open the door, “Missy, do you have anyone to walk you back to your car?”
“We took the bus-”
“Cool. You aren’t taking the bus home, I’ll give you a ride. I’ll give you both rides.”
“What’s going on, doc?”
You sighed, hands flexing and curling to fists at your sides, “Jason’s outside.”
“Shit.”
“What’s going on?” Reid asked, his brows furrowed as his voice filled with concern, “Do you need help?”
“It’s none of your business, Reid.”
The door opened behind you, and Reid finally got a look at the people you’d been talking to. The woman, Missy, was on the skinny side with light brown skin and long black hair. The man behind her, Frank, was big and bulky- in other words, he had muscles for days. His dark hair had been cropped short, but he was clearly working on growing it out. Both Missy and Frank looked at Reid with a mix of curiosity and disappointment.
“That’s him, doc?”
You looked between Missy and Reid quickly- when you spoke, your words came even faster, “Yeah. That’s him, that’s the shit-licking asshole Fed.”
Sheryl covered her mouth with her hand, muffling her gasp at your apparent audacity.
“Sorry,” you apologized, though the apology was clearly addressed to Sheryl and not to Reid, “That’s the fucking Fed.”
Reid shook off the insult. Missy and Frank both frowned. The former leaned towards you, whispering in your ear (though Reid could still hear her.)
“That’s not what you said last week.”
You rolled your eyes and gestured at the hallway, towards the exit, “Come on, guys. Let’s go.”
“(Y/N), if someone on the property is a threat to you-”
You turned on him, eyes flashing as your lips curled into a sneer, “If you tell me to call the fucking cops, I swear to god.”
Reid paused, trying to pretend he wasn’t about to suggest that exact thing, “I- I was going to ask if I could walk you out.”
Frank looked unimpressed, unsure if Reid could actually do anything against a threat. Missy seemed more sure of his skills. You wanted Reid to fuck off.
“I have a taser.”
Missy leaned forward towards you. She nudged your arm and whispered, “Hey, safety in numbers.” Again, her voice was loud enough for Reid to hear.
You sighed, shutting your eyes and groaning out a, “Fine. He can come.”
Missy smiled at Reid, and he gave her one of those awkward closed-lip grins in return. You were not charmed by this, but Missy was- at least a little bit.
You headed down the hallway, not stopping to wait for the others until you got to the front door. When you looked out into the parking lot, you couldn’t see Jason’s car. That didn’t mean he wasn’t waiting out there.
You nodded at Sheryl as she returned to the front desk before looking back at the group. Missy had tucked herself between Reid and Frank- and you couldn’t blame her, honestly. Her asshole ex was out there, and Frank was buff as hell, and Reid was, at the very least, tall. You couldn’t stand Reid right now, but you knew, at the very least, that he would try to keep Missy safe.
The trip to your car was uneventful. Missy and Frank slid into the back seat. You and Reid were left standing outside the vehicle, exposed and in the open.
You didn’t look at each other. As you reached for the door handle, Reid stopped you, opening his stupid mouth again.
“I’m sorry.”
You kept your eyes on the car, “I know.”
“I was wrong.”
“I know.”
He paused. Silence fell. You coughed.
“Can I have my mugs back?”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Okay.”
Missy pushed open her car door. She said nothing, but she did give you a pointed look. You visibly sighed, slumping over the driver’s side door until your chin could rest on the roof.
“Fine,” you hissed, “Come to my office if you want them back. End of the day. Don’t come a minute sooner or I’ll stab you to death with mug shards.”
“Understood.”
“Good.”
You pulled over your car door. He told you to drive safely. You wanted to drive over him. You didn’t. You drove out of the parking lot and down the street in silence.
Behind you, Frank let out a long, slow whistle.
“So,” Missy tapped her fingers against the window, “Your attitude towards him changed.”
“Did it? I didn’t notice.”
“It did, doc,” Frank picked up where Missy left off, “Last week you liked him.”
“I did not like him. I despised him.”
“No, you despise him now. Last week you were trying to get his attention.”
“I was not!” your cheeks caught fire, “If I wanted his attention I would have it.”
“Doc,” Missy laughed, “You do have his attention.”
And she wasn’t wrong. You certainly had the attention of one Spencer Reid.
♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x gn!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#x reader#nightmare academia
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Unraveled Tensions
Summary: "Unraveled Tensions" follows the Specncer and Y/N as they tackle a complex murder case, with Spencer Reid and Y/N engaging in intense intellectual competition amidst the investigation. Their professional rivalry escalates to heated arguments and the reveal of something more than academic rivalry
WC: 1566
AN: Angst is my middle name...
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
The BAU team found themselves in the midst of a complex case involving a series of gruesome murders that left the entire city on edge. The victims, all seemingly unrelated, shared a common thread of intricate, staged crime scenes. While the urgency of solving the case weighed heavily on the team, Spencer Reid and Y/N were more focused on outdoing each other than on solving the case.
It all began during the morning briefing when Y/N confidently presented a piece of evidence. "Did you know, Reid, that the pattern of these murders matches the Fibonacci sequence?" Y/N smirked, challenging Reid's renowned intellect.
Spencer furrowed his brow, not one to back down. "Interesting, but the Fibonacci sequence is just one aspect. The geographical locations also align with a potential mathematical pattern based on prime numbers."
Their colleagues exchanged glances, clearly picking up on the tension. Hotch cleared his throat. "Let's stay focused on the case, team."
As the investigation progressed, the competitive banter between Reid and Y/N escalated. They contradicted each other's theories, questioned each other's deductions, and even challenged each other's profiling skills.
One evening, as they were reviewing case files in the dimly lit bullpen, the tension reached its peak. Hotch, Gideon, and the rest of the team watched silently as Reid and Y/N engaged in a heated argument.
"I can't believe you would dismiss my theory without even considering it, Reid!" Y/N snapped.
"And I can't believe you're so quick to jump to conclusions without proper evidence!" Reid shot back.
Gideon intervened, his patience wearing thin. "Enough! Both of you, go home and figure out how to work together. We can't afford this discord in the team."
Fuming, Reid and Y/N found themselves outside the building, caught in a standoff. The night air was thick with tension, and suddenly, their bickering took an unexpected turn.
"You think you're always right, don't you, Reid?" Y/N snapped, eyes blazing.
"At least I base my conclusions on facts, not wild guesses," Reid retorted, a hint of condescension in his tone.
Y/N scoffed, "Facts? More like irrelevant statistics that no one cares about."
Reid shot back, "Irrelevant? It's called being thorough, something you might want to try."
Their exchange escalated, each word a sharp weapon in their verbal sparring match. The night became a battleground of intellect, their voices echoing in the deserted parking lot.
"You're insufferable!" Y/N exclaimed, frustration evident in her voice.
"And you're intolerably stubborn!" Reid shot back.
"You're so difficult, Reid," Y/N finally spoke, voice dripping with frustration.
"And you're impulsive, letting your emotions cloud your judgment," Reid retorted.
In a sudden surge of emotion, Y/N shoved Reid against the wall, the impact echoing their internal turmoil. "You don't get it, do you?" Y/N whispered, their breath mingling with Reid's. "This isn't just about the case. It's about you and me, about the fractured mess we've become."
Reid's eyes bore into Y/N's, a turbulent storm of emotions reflected in his gaze. "I don't need distractions. I need solutions."
Y/N, infuriated by Reid's stoic resolve, crashed their lips together in a bruising kiss. It was a desperate attempt to break through the walls he had built, to shatter the carefully constructed facade.
For a moment, the world around them ceased to exist. The kiss was fueled by frustration, longing, and the acknowledgment of a connection that transcended their bitter rivalry. It was a collision of two opposing forces, a turbulent dance between chaos and order. The kiss was messy, certainly not romantic, but a culmination of the hate and passion they felt for one another.
When they pulled away, their breaths mingling, a realization settled between them. The tension wasn't just a byproduct of the case or their conflicting methodologies – it was a reflection of the unresolved emotions that had festered beneath the surface.
Reid's expression softened, a vulnerability breaking through the façade. "This...this changes nothing," he muttered, almost convincing himself.
Y/N, still caught in the whirlwind of emotions, simply nodded. The unspoken agreement hung heavy in the air – they couldn't undo what had transpired, but they could choose how to navigate the aftermath.
The next evening, as they worked late in the bullpen, the unspoken tension became too palpable to ignore. Y/N, her voice hesitant, broached the subject that had been looming over them. "Reid, we can't keep avoiding the elephant in the room. We need to talk about what happened."
Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, Y/N. It's just... this complicates things."
She nodded, a mixture of frustration and understanding in her eyes. "I get it, Reid. But if we don't address this, it's going to affect the team even more than we already have."
The truth in her words hung in the air, a heavy reminder of the responsibility they carried as members of the BAU. With a shared nod, they decided to confront the unresolved issues that had lingered between them.
Sipping their coffees, Reid began, "I've been thinking about why we clash so much, and I realized there might be more to it than just our differing opinions."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, curious about Reid's perspective.
"I've always admired your intelligence," Reid admitted. "But I think it frustrated me that someone could challenge my ideas and theories. I'm used to being the 'know-it-all,' and having someone who could keep up was both threatening and intriguing."
Y/N chuckled, "So, your problem is an ego thing?"
Reid blushed, "Well, not entirely. It's just... I didn't know how to handle it. And maybe I projected that frustration onto you."
Y/N nodded, "Fair enough. I guess I've been guilty of the same. I wanted to prove that I could be just as brilliant, if not more so, than the great Spencer Reid. It became a competition, and we lost sight of the bigger picture."
Reid sighed, "Maybe we should learn to appreciate each other's strengths rather than seeing them as threats."
Their conversation took a more introspective turn as they discussed their personal insecurities and how it had fueled their constant clashes. The coffee shop became a safe space for them to open up, and as the barriers between them crumbled, a newfound understanding emerged.
The was raw and uncomfortable, filled with admissions of pride, ego, and the acknowledgment of their own shortcomings. The wounds of their clashes were laid bare, and the process of healing began. It was a delicate journey, marked by moments of vulnerability and shared introspection.
Days turned into weeks, and as they navigated the intricacies of rebuilding their fractured dynamic, a gradual shift occurred. The tension that had defined their interactions transformed into a cautious camaraderie. Shared glances turned into genuine smiles, and the once-avoided conversations became a pathway to understanding.
The team, observing the subtle changes, couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The collaborative spirit that had been tested in the crucible of conflict emerged stronger, a testament to the resilience of the BAU.
As the days passed, Spencer and Y/N found themselves working together seamlessly, their shared victory serving as a bridge between the past and the present. The scars remained, but they were no longer open wounds. The lessons learned from their tumultuous journey had forged a connection rooted in mutual respect and a shared commitment to the work they did.
Late one evening, as they sat in the quiet of the bullpen, surrounded by the hum of computers and the distant echoes of the city, Y/N spoke, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. "Reid, I never thought we'd get here."
He looked at her, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Neither did I. But sometimes, the most challenging journeys lead to the most unexpected destinations."
The sentiment lingered in the air, a quiet acknowledgment of the growth that had emerged from the chaos. The BAU, once tested by internal conflicts, stood united once again. Spencer Reid and Y/N, having navigated the storm together, found themselves on the other side – stronger, wiser, and bound by a shared understanding that transcended the trials they had faced.
Spencer: Hey, Y/N, can I ask you something?
Y/N: Of course, Spencer. What's on your mind?
Spencer: Well, uh, I was wondering... Would you ever, you know, want to go on a date?
Y/N: Really, Spencer? Are you asking me out?
Spencer: Yeah, I mean, if you're comfortable with that. I just thought it could be nice...
Y/N: I'd like that, Spencer. I'd really like that.
Spencer: Oh, good. I was hoping you'd say that. I mean, I've never been great at this kind of thing, but you're... you're important to me, and I thought maybe we could spend some time together outside of work.
Y/N: Spencer, It means a lot that you asked, and I appreciate your honesty.
Spencer Reid: Great! That's great. I'll, uh, figure out some plans and let you know. Looking forward to it.
Y/N: (playfully) I am too, Spencer. It's a date then.
Spencer Reid: Yeah, it's a date.
As they continued their work, the echoes of their past clashes served as a reminder of the fragility of human connections. The scars remained, etched into the fabric of their shared history, but they were now symbols of resilience rather than wounds of discord. The BAU moved forward, united by the strength that emerged from confronting internal conflicts and the unwavering commitment to the pursuit of justice.
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BACK TO YOU
this is the second part to my last post so read part 1 here
Contents: mention murder, criminal minds themes, angst, fluff, happy ending
You were awoken by soft ruffling, as your eyes adjusted, you turned to where Spencer was and were met with an empty bed. Your heart sank a little.
“Spence?” you softly called, he walked out of your bathroom and paused when he saw you sitting up in bed.
“Shit did I wake you?” he asked. “I’m sorry”
You rubbed your eyes in an attempt to adjust them to the daylight.
“No you didn’t” you paused for a split second. “Wait, where are you going?” You asked in a concerned tone.
“Work, we just got a case”
You try your best to contain your annoyance. This wasn’t the first time Spencer’s job cut your time together short, it had often happened during dates or even before. It felt like a punch in the gut to get canceled on at the last minute when you’d spent HOURS getting ready to see him.
Spencer stood in the doorway, his tie still in hand, his expression torn between duty and desire. "I'm sorry, but I have to go," he said softly, his eyes pleading with you to understand.
Your frustration simmered beneath the surface as you crossed your arms, your voice tinged with irritation. "Of course, you do. Duty calls, right? Always comes first."
"I wish it didn't have to be this way," Spencer replied, his tone heavy with regret as he took a step closer to you.
"Well, it is," you retorted, your patience wearing thin. "You know, I thought last night might’ve meant something to you."
"It did, of course it meant something to me" Spencer insisted, his heart heavy with the weight of his conflicting emotions. "But I have responsibilities, you understand that, don't you?"
You let out a frustrated sigh, your resolve hardening. "I understand that, but you always put your job before everything else. You know what? Just go"
Spencer's shoulders slumped in defeat as he realized the depth of your disappointment. With a heavy heart, he turned to leave, knowing that this argument would linger long after he had gone.
-
The conference room buzzed with tension as Spencer’s mind drifted, his thoughts consumed by the argument he'd had with you earlier that morning. Despite the urgency of the case the team was working on, his attention faltered, his focus fractured by the weight of your unresolved conflict.
Across the table, his colleagues exchanged theories and observations about the latest string of murders, their voices blending into a background hum as Spencer struggled to silence the inner turmoil raging within him.
"Reid, you with us?" Hotch's voice cut through the haze, pulling Spencer back to the present moment.
"Sorry, what were you saying?" Spencer asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"We were discussing the unsub's pattern," JJ replied, concern flickering in her eyes as she studied her colleague and best friend.
As the team delved deeper into the details of the case, Spencer forced himself to concentrate, his analytical mind piecing together fragments of information in an effort to contribute to the investigation. But try as he might, his thoughts kept drifting back to the argument he'd had with you, the words you’d exchanged echoing in his mind like a relentless refrain.
Hours passed in a blur of interviews and forensic analysis, each passing moment only serving to deepen Spencer's sense of unease. Finally, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the team reconvened at the BAU headquarters, a breakthrough emerged from the chaos of their investigation.
"We've identified a potential suspect," Rossi announced, his voice brimming with quiet confidence. "He fits the profile, and we have reason to believe he's still in the area."
With renewed determination, the team jumped into action, their focus honed on apprehending the perpetrator before he could strike again. But even as they worked tirelessly to bring the case to a close, Spencer's thoughts remained fixated on the rift between the both of you, a weight that seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment.
As the night wore on, Spencer found himself unable to shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at his insides, his mind consumed by the need to reconcile with the woman he was was starting to love. With a heavy heart, he dialed your number, his fingers trembling slightly as he waited for you to pick up.
"Hey," your voice was soft, your tone tinged with apprehension.
"I'm sorry," Spencer blurted out, his words tumbling forth in a rush. "I shouldn't have just left that. I want you to know that I care about you, more than anything and I really want this to work out”
There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of your breathing mingling together across the line.
"I'm sorry too," you replied, your voice choked with emotion. "I let my frustration get the best of me. I care about you too, Spence."
In that moment, the weight that had hung between you lifted, replaced by a sense of understanding and forgiveness. And as you spoke, your voices weaving together in quiet reconciliation, Spencer felt a warmth spreading through his chest, dispelling the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.
With a newfound sense of clarity, Spencer hung up the phone, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he turned his attention back to the case at hand. And as the team closed in on their suspect, bringing an end to the reign of terror that had gripped the city, Spencer couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the woman who had stood by his side through it all.
As the case drew to a close, Spencer found himself standing on your doorstep, his heart pounding in his chest as he reached out to knock. And as you opened the door, your eyes bright with unshed tears, Spencer knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.
With a whispered apology and a gentle embrace, the both of you found solace in each other's arms, your bond stronger than ever before. And as you both leaned in to share a tender kiss, the echoes of your argument fading into the background, Spencer knew that no matter what the future held, you would always find your way back to each other.
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i love gracie so much!!!!! literally craving a angst w “i miss you, im sorry” w spencer!
i miss you, i’m sorry
spencer reid x fem!reader
she/her pronouns and y/n used
after spencer broke up with her, y/n is left to reminisce on what had been their past and what could’ve been their future.
warnings: angst, not proofread
thank you for the request!!! i miss you, i’m sorry is my favourite song by gracie, and i hope this lives up to your expectations <33
my masterlist
the only thought in her head was the amount of times spencer promised they’d be together forever. he was so certain about it.
then, all of a sudden, he changed his mind and grew cold. was it something she did? maybe he’d cheated or something and felt too guilty about it to remain in the relationship?
whatever it was, he didn’t tell her. when spencer broke up with y/n, he was vague; rushing out an “i’m leaving, i’m sorry” and that was that. a bag had already been packed by the time she got home from work.
he left her the house, as if that made it any better. it just felt haunted by him. everything reminded her of spencer and she knew that would never change; he had taken over her brain.
a couple of days after he’d left, she was tempted to call him and tell him she missed him. she didn’t. if she had, he wouldn’t have responded and she would’ve been left embarrassed and heartbroken.
she missed their arguing as well as all the good stuff. all the arguments that they’d managed to resolve quickly. y/n wondered if maybe that was why he’d left so abruptly.
maybe he’d gotten annoyed at how much they argued and decided he’d had enough. it seemed stupid, though. it had been around 2 weeks since they’d last argued, so surely that wasn’t the answer.
everything seemed to be a reminder of him. even just looking at the ceiling in silence reminded her of the nights they just laid in bed staring up at the ceiling.
to anyone else, it would seem weird but not to them. they just wanted to enjoy each other’s company.
at least, y/n did before spencer disappeared like he did. nothing could take her mind off of that. the confusion she felt when he told her. how she’d just stepped in the door when he was walking out on her forever.
she wanted to apologise to him for whatever it was that made him leave. tell him she missed him. all in all, she wanted to do whatever she could to stop him from leaving; it was all she’d been doing for the past 3 years.
however, y/n also thought apologising could only make it worse. apologising might lead to an argument which would mean they weren’t even on good terms. were they on good terms now?
spencer hadn’t told her whether they were still friends or not so that was left up to her interpretation. she supposed not, but surely there was some kind of possibility?
the ringtone she had set for spencer sounded, breaking her out of the same cycle of thoughts she’d had for a week now. he was calling? why now?
in a state of shock, she let it go to voicemail, not actually expecting him to leave one. once it had come through, she immediately played it and his voice spilled out.
“hey, y/n,” he spoke in a quiet voice. “i know you’re probably so confused about, you know, all of this, but i just wanted to let you know that me leaving wasn’t your fault. i just— i think we’re better off as friends, and i really do hope we can be because, um, i miss you. and i’m so sorry.”
the voicemail ended and y/n stared at her phone, shocked to say the least. he missed her. he was sorry. he wanted to be friends; but she wasn’t sure if she could be.
#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#x reader#bau x reader#bau#gracie abrams#i miss you i’m sorry
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11 melancholy party
pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!oc
summary: Spencer and Brittany find themselves and Maya's party and he is feeling a bit jealous.
list of chapters, also available on wattpad and Ao3, my masterlist
warnings: some angst
words: 3,1k
a/n: thank you for all the likes! i'd love to know what you guys think so don't hold back on those comments <3
Late March had arrived, bringing with it the promise of warmer weather and the faint scent of spring blossoms in the air. It was a time of renewal, of new beginnings, but not for Spencer.
As he stood amidst the lively throng of guests at Maya's birthday party, he couldn't shake the feeling of restlessness. The familiar surroundings of the house stirred memories of months past, when they had spent Halloween together in this very place.
But amidst the revelry, his gaze was drawn to one figure in particular—Brittany. She stood across the room, her laughter like music to his ears, her smile radiant in the dim light of the party.
Yet, there was something different about her tonight, a subtle shift in her demeanor that caught his attention.
And then he saw him—the man by her side, his arm draped casually around her waist as they laughed and chatted together. Spencer felt a pang of jealousy shoot through him, his heart clenching at the sight of Brittany with someone else.
He tried to push aside the surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him, but it lingered like a stubborn shadow, casting a pall over the festivities. He watched helplessly as Brittany and her date moved through the crowd, their laughter mingling with the strains of music in the air.
It was a stark reminder of the distance that had grown between them, the unspoken words and unresolved feelings that hung heavy in the air. Spencer couldn't deny the ache in his chest, the longing to be the one by Brittany's side, making her laugh and smile the way only he knew how.
As Spencer observed the man from across the room, his profiler instincts kicked in, dissecting his demeanor and body language with precision.
There was an air of arrogance about him, an underlying sense of entitlement that set Spencer's teeth on edge. He watched as he interacted with others, his casual disregard for those around him a stark contrast to the positive energy and empathy Spencer had come to associate with Brittany.
There was something about the way he carried himself, a subtle shift in his gaze and mannerisms that set off alarm bells in Spencer's mind. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was an unmistakable aura of insincerity that surrounded him—a wolf in sheep's clothing, hiding behind a facade of charm and charisma.
As Spencer continued to observe, he noticed the way his eyes lingered a fraction too long on Brittany, the possessive glint that flashed in his gaze whenever she laughed at someone else's joke or engaged in conversation with another man. It was a subtle yet telling sign of his true intentions, a glimpse into the depths of his manipulative nature.
Spencer's jaw clenched with barely contained anger as he watched him lean in closer to Brittany, his proximity a clear invasion of her personal space. He could see the discomfort in her eyes, the forced smile that didn't quite reach her lips as she shifted uneasily.
It was then that Spencer made a decision—a decision born out of a primal instinct to protect Brittany from harm, to shield her from the predatory advances of a man who saw her as nothing more than a conquest.
With a steely resolve, Spencer squared his shoulders and made his way across the room, his gaze never wavering from the guy by her side.
"Hey Spencer! Thank you so much for coming!" Maya exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine warmth and gratitude.
She stood with Lawrence, Brittany, and her new companion, Spencer plastered on a polite smile, masking the storm of emotions roiling beneath the surface. Lawrence greeted him with a warm smile, gesturing towards the man at Brittany's side.
"Spencer, this is Gary," Lawrence introduced, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief. "He's Brittany's plus one for the evening."
"Nice to meet you, Gary," he said, his tone carefully neutral.
His smile was friendly but tinged with a hint of smugness. "Likewise," he replied, his eyes flicking briefly towards Brittany before returning to Spencer.
Spencer seized the opportunity to address the burning question that had been gnawing at him since he first laid eyes on Brittany and Gary.
"So, how long have you and Brittany been together?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual despite the knot of tension coiled in the pit of his stomach.
Gary shrugged nonchalantly, his demeanor oozing with confidence. "Oh, just a few weeks," he replied, his tone casual as if the revelation meant nothing to him.
Spencer felt a surge of relief flood through him at the confirmation that Gary was a recent addition to Brittany's life.
A few weeks was manageable—it wasn't as if they had been together for months, building a deep connection that would be impossible to unravel.
Yet, even as he breathed a silent sigh of relief, Spencer couldn't shake the nagging sense of unease that lingered in the back of his mind.
A few weeks was still long enough for feelings to develop, for bonds to form between two people, however fleeting.
And as he glanced over at Brittany, her laughter ringing out like a beacon in the dimly lit room, Spencer couldn't help but wonder what had drawn her to Gary, and whether there was room in her heart for anyone else.
Brittany's demeanor, though outwardly composed, betrayed a hint of tension beneath the surface.
Her smile seemed forced, the laughter in her eyes lacking its usual sparkle. Despite her attempts to appear at ease, there was a guardedness in her expression, a subtle wariness that spoke volumes to Spencer.
He caught her eye for a brief moment, and in that fleeting glance, he saw a flicker of something indefinable—a longing, perhaps, or a trace of regret. It was gone in an instant, buried beneath a carefully constructed façade, but it lingered in Spencer's mind like an echo in an empty room.
Amidst the cacophony of voices and music, Spencer felt a surge of determination coursing through him. He couldn't let the night end without addressing the swirling emotions between him and Brittany. With each passing moment, the weight of unspoken words pressed upon him, urging him to break the silence.
As the party continued to unfold around them, Spencer's resolve solidified. He needed to talk to Brittany, to lay bare his feelings and confront the tangled web of emotions that bound them together.
With each heartbeat, the urgency of the moment intensified, propelling him forward.
Finally, as a lull in the conversation provided a fleeting moment of respite, Spencer seized the opportunity to act. With a steadying breath he sought out her eyes amidst the crowd and approached her.
"Brittany," he began, his voice carrying a sense of urgency that cut through the din of the party. "Can we talk? Alone?"
Brittany's eyes widened in surprise at Spencer's sudden request, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. "Sure," she replied, her voice barely audible over the music. "Let's go outside."
Without another word, Spencer followed Brittany as she navigated through the crowded room, the anticipation building with each step closer to their destination.
As they stepped out onto the familiar patio, the cool night air enveloped them, bringing a sense of calm amidst the lingering echoes of the party.
The muted sounds of laughter and music faded into the background, allowing Spencer and Brittany a moment of respite, just like they had on Halloween. This was the same patio where they sat dressed up in silly costumes and talked for hours.
Taking a deep breath, Spencer turned to face Brittany, his heart pounding "What's going on with you and Gary?"
Brittany's brows furrowed in confusion, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her tone. "What do you mean?" she replied, her voice guarded as she studied Spencer's face for any sign of accusation.
Spencer took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "I mean... is this serious?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you... happy with him?"
Brittany's expression softened, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features as she considered Spencer's questions. "I... I don't know," she admitted, her voice tinged with hesitation. "And why do you care? It’s none of your business."
Spencer's brows furrowed as he listened to Brittany's response, a pang of hurt shooting through him at her dismissive words.
"I care because... because I thought we were friends," he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and sadness. "And seeing you with him... it just... it doesn't sit right with me. I know you deserve better than that."
As Spencer's words hung in the air, tension crackled between them, the atmosphere heavy with unresolved emotions.
Brittany's eyes flashed with defiance, her jaw set in a stubborn line. "You don't get to decide what's best for me, Spencer," she retorted, her voice laced with frustration. "You don't know anything about him or what I need and deserve.”
Spencer's jaw tightened, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. "Maybe you're right," he admitted, his tone edged with bitterness. "Maybe I don't know anything about him. But I know you, Brittany. I know you deserve someone who treats you with respect, someone who sees you for the amazing person you are. And…"
Brittany's lips thinned into a tight line, her gaze unwavering. "And what? You think you're that person, Spencer?" she shot back, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "You've made it pretty clear how you feel about me," she scoffed.
"I thought... I thought maybe there was something between us," she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness. "But I was wrong."
Spencer's heart sank at her words, the weight of her disappointment crushing him. He wanted to reach out to her, to tell her the truth about his feelings, but the words caught in his throat.
As they stood there in silence, the gap between them widened, leaving them both adrift in a sea of unspoken words and missed opportunities.
“Just stay out of it. I can take care of myself.”
Spencer's heart constricted with a mix of regret and longing. He watched as she turned away, her shoulders tense.
He had let the chance slip through his fingers once again.
A part of him yearned to call out to her, to bridge the growing chasm between them, but he remained rooted to the spot, his own insecurities holding him back.
With each step she took, Brittany seemed to recede further into the crowd, her figure gradually blending into the sea of faces that filled the room.
Spencer's chest tightened with a pang of anguish as he realized that he was losing her, that his silence and indecision had driven yet another wedge between them.
"Brittany, wait," he called out, his voice barely above a whisper, but she didn't turn back. She continued to walk away, her form growing smaller and smaller until she disappeared from view, leaving Spencer alone.
A heavy sense of regret settled over him, weighing down his steps as he stood there, grappling with the aftermath of their confrontation.
He knew he had let her down, that his fear and insecurity had cost him the chance to tell her how he truly felt.
The sounds of laughter and music washed over him and his mind whirled with a jumble of conflicting emotions. He wanted to go after her, to make things right, but he couldn't shake the fear that it was already too late, that he had missed his chance to salvage what they had.
He knew that he would have to find a way to make things right with Brittany, but for now, all he could do was watch helplessly as she slipped further and further away, lost in the crowd and out of reach.
As the evening wore on and the party began to wind down, Spencer found himself lingering on the outskirts of the gathering, his thoughts consumed by Brittany.
Despite the weight of their earlier confrontation, he couldn't shake the nagging worry as noticed her from across the room.
She stood alone by the window, her gaze fixed on the darkness beyond, her expression unreadable in the dim light. Spencer hesitated for a moment, torn between the desire to reach out to her and the fear of intruding on her solitude.
But as the minutes stretched on and the crowd began to thin, he knew that he couldn't simply leave her there alone.
With a resigned sigh, Spencer made his way across the room, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor. He stopped beside her, his gaze meeting hers in a silent exchange of understanding.
She wasn't mad, he realized; she just seemed sad. Her eyes, usually bright with laughter, now held a hint of melancholy.
There was no need for words as they stood there together, the weight of their unspoken emotions hanging heavy in the air between them.
"Hey," Spencer finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you okay?"
Brittany didn't respond at first, her eyes still fixed on the darkness outside. But then, slowly, she turned to face him, her expression guarded but vulnerable.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, her voice tinged with resignation. "Just... thinking."
Spencer nodded in understanding, a pang of sympathy coursing through him at the sight of her troubled expression.
"Do you... do you need a ride home?" he offered tentatively, the words hanging awkwardly in the air between them.
"No," Brittany murmured.
"Where's Gary?" he asked, his worry evident.
"He left," Brittany replied with a nonchalant shrug, though her tone carried a subtle undertone of indifference.
"He left you here alone?" Spencer's concern deepened, his brows furrowing with concern for her well-being.
"Said he had to go," Brittany said, but Spencer could tell that she was lying. Her words lacked conviction, and a flicker of unease passed through her eyes, betraying the facade of indifference she tried to maintain.
Spencer furrowed his brow, the pieces of the puzzle slowly starting to click into place. "And Lawrence?" he pressed, shifting his gaze to Brittany.
Brittany's expression softened slightly at the mention of her friend. "He left a while ago," she admitted, her voice tinged with regret. "Said he had an early morning."
Spencer nodded in understanding, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place as he realized that Brittany had been left alone, abandoned by the very people she had come with.
"Why don't you let me give you a ride home? We don’t have to talk. I just want you to get home safe." Spencer offered, his voice gentle as he gestured towards his car parked nearby. "I don't want you trying to get home alone at this hour. And we live close by either way."
Brittany hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, okay. Thanks." she relented, a hint of gratitude coloring her words.
Without another word, Spencer led the way out of the party, his heart heavy with the weight of their unspoken emotions.
They made their way to Spencer's car, the tension of the evening slowly dissipating with each step.
They drove through the quiet streets of the city in silence and Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. At least she let him drive her home.
As Spencer pulled the car to a stop in front of Brittany's building and she offered him a small smile. "Thanks for the ride."
But before she could reach for the door handle, Spencer was already stepping out of the car.
"I'll walk you to the door," he insisted, his eyes meeting hers with a silent plea.
Brittany rolled her eyes in annoyance, but she couldn't deny the warmth that blossomed in her chest at his gesture.
"You really don't have to," she protested weakly, but Spencer was already out of the car.
"I know," he replied simply, offering her his hand as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. "But I want to."
As they made their way up the steps to her building, a silent tension lingering between them. Brittany fumbled for her keys in her purse, her movements tense and agitated.
"Thanks for the ride again," she muttered curtly, her tone tinged with irritation as she finally found her keys and began to unlock the door.
Spencer watched her in silence for a moment, a pang of guilt gnawing at him as he realized the depth of the hurt he had caused her.
"Brittany, I..." he started, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words.
Brittany cut him off with a sharp glare, her patience wearing thin. "Save it, Spencer," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "You've done enough already."
Spencer recoiled at her words, the sting of her anger piercing through him like a knife. "I just wanted to make sure you got home okay," he protested weakly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Brittany scoffed, her hand freezing on the doorknob as she shot him a withering glare. "Don't pretend like you care," she spat, her voice laced with bitterness.
Spencer's heart sank at her words, the weight of his own inadequacies bearing down on him like a heavy burden. "I never meant to hurt you," he uttered, his voice tinged with regret.
As Brittany laughed, with a final click, she managed to unlock her door, but before she could push it open, Spencer's hand darted out in front of her, closing the door.
Brittany looked up at him, surprise flickering in her eyes.
"Wait," Spencer called out softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
She whirled around to face him, her eyes blazing with fury. "What do you want, Spencer?" she demanded, her voice sharp and biting.
“I want to talk," he said earnestly, his gaze locked with hers. "Please, just hear me out."
Brittany’s eyes darted around in silence
Spencer took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as he struggled to find the right words.
"I messed up, Brittany," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "I let my own insecurities and fears get in the way, and I hurt you in the process."
Brittany's expression softened at his words, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her features.
"I know I messed up," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't stand the thought of losing you.. I care about you more than I can even put into words."
Brittany's breath caught in her throat at his confession, her heart fluttering with uncertainty.
"Spencer..." she began, her voice wavering with emotion.
Before she could say another word, Spencer closed the distance between them, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek gently. And before either of them could think, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a tender, desperate kiss.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they melted into each other. And in that fleeting moment, all of their doubts and fears melted away, replaced by a burning passion that consumed them both.
When they finally pulled away, breathless and shaken, Spencer searched Brittany's eyes for any sign of rejection.
But all he found was love and longing, mirrored in her gaze as she reached up to cup his face in her hands.
#i'm such a fool for you#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic
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The Darkest Hour Before Dawn
Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC! Althea Devereaux
Chapters: 0 / Prologue / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5
AO3 | Wattpad
Synopsis
Althea has always been the overlooked middle child, never quite standing out despite her best efforts. But, when a series of tragic events strikes her family, she is forced to step up and prove herself in ways she had never envisioned. With unwavering resolve, she sets her sights on joining the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, driven by a deep desire to find answers to the biggest mystery of her childhood. It is the one thing that kept her going, the thought that if she could just join the team, she could finally solve the case that has haunted her for years.
Althea's opportunity to join the BAU comes in the form of an unexpected surprise and she finally achieves her goal, acquiring a place on the team she has both admired and resented. Her relentlessness in the pursuit of justice earns her the respect of her colleagues and even the attention of the brilliant Spencer Reid. As she delves deeper into the world of criminal profiling, she discovers that her own personal experiences have given her a unique insight into the minds of criminals. However, she realizes that the truth may be more complicated and dangerous than she could have ever imagined and some secrets are best left buried.
In a world where tragedy and triumph go hand in hand, Althea remains determined to succeed where others have failed her, to make a difference in the world and finally bring closure to her family's long-standing tragedy.
❝And in the end, all that remains is the echo of your name .❞
Althea Devereaux
❝I may have started off as the mediocre middle child, but I refuse to end as anything less than extraordinary.❞
Spencer Reid
❝Well, statistically speaking, you have a better chance of being struck by lightning than finding a date on a Friday night...but hey, that's just the law of averages.❞
Kaitlyn Devereaux
❝I don't need a medical degree to tell you that a broken heart can hurt just as much as a broken bone.❞
Sebastien Devereaux
❝I guess being the baby of the family doesn't protect you from getting sick. Should've asked for a refund on my birth order.❞
"Nyx"
❝You can't just come in here, with your FBI team and your big guns, acting like you're the hero.❞
Ayaan Ahmed
❝I didn't think it was possible to feel this hot after exiting a burning building, but I guess that's just the effect you have on me, Doc.❞
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
Young Althea Devereaux: Mckenna Grace
Young Elinor Devereaux: Violet McGraw
Older Elinor Devereaux: ***
Sarah Devereaux: Carla Gugino
Michael Devereaux: Ralph Fiennes
The rest of the criminal minds cast as themselves.
More characters will be added as the story progresses.
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Trigger Warnings and Disclaimer
This is set in the criminal minds world so it will contain quite a bit of violence, abuse, murder, assault, etc. There will also be portrayals of self-harm, self-destructive behaviour, mental health issues, etc. so if that makes you uncomfortable, please be warned. I will put in additional warnings at the beginning of particular chapters that contain specifically triggering content but just an overall warning that it is going to be quite dark.
Also, it goes without saying, sadly I don't own any of the original criminal minds story/characters (I would very much like to own Spencer and Emily). I only own my original characters and the plotlines I give them.
A/N:
Heyyo, in honour of binging like 4 seasons of criminal minds during peak exam season, I thought I'd write a story for it. This OC has been living in my head rent-free for quite a while and I finally found a place to put her so yay. Get ready for heaps of tragedy and angst lol. I am looking forward to this story and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. The story will be set starting season 1 and onwards.
I was gonna have a ships collage chapter but then I realized that may be a bit spoilery so I guess I'll just say that in addition to our main ship, we'll have Hotchniss (I adore them with all my heart), a very badass sapphic couple, and a few others. Hope you enjoy :)
Also, I would absolutely love to hear yall's thoughts on the story as we go along, it really motivates me to write and I get a sense of what yall might wanna see more/less of. I suck at writing summaries but hopefully, the synopsis wasn't too bad lol.
Cheers.
Taglist (comment to be added):
#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#Criminal Minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds oneshot#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss#hotchniss#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fluff#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#derek morgan#penelope garcia#jennifer jareau#elle greenaway
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selfish | spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x f!reader
word count: 1.3k
summary: spencer never should have let you go.
warnings: allusions to sex, injury, allusions to a crime scene, spencer being a confused mess, pure angst
author’s note: my first criminal minds fic, and it’s spencer reid !! it was loosely inspired by taylor swift’s ‘sad beautiful tragic’ and madison beer’s ‘selfish’, providing the title of this fic. I’m so excited about this fic, and hope you love it as much as I do. send your requests straight into my inbox if you want to see more :)
additional note: happy birthday to me! this fic is a lil birthday present for myself ahah
and before you get into this fic, please take some time to consider the meaning of Good Friday.
This was a case like any other.
The stakes were high—what else was new?—and the UnSub’s arrest evolved into a shootout. Before Rossi could get a clean shot, a bullet had grazed your arm and killed a police officer. Your getting injured wasn’t new (really, it’d be more surprising if you didn’t), but JJ still wrapped her arm around you, Derek and Hotch still asked if you were alright, Emily still held your hand. Penelope still smothered you in a hug. Rossi still shook your hand.
But your Spencer? He didn’t inspect your wound, didn’t berate you for your carelessness or run off another statistic on the odds of an injury in the field. He didn’t follow the usual routine of kissing your cheek and coddling you until you were healed.
Instead, he opened his mouth and blurted, “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
Your heart skips a beat in the worst possible way, your brain a broken record repeating his words on a loop. “I… what?”
“You’re always getting yourself injured and I… I can’t stand to see you get hurt.” That was the naked truth of it: each time you were hurt in the field, Spencer struggled to reassure himself that you would be okay, to remember a statistic or concrete fact to ease his anxiety. He could not afford the distraction, he told himself.
Field agents needed to set aside their emotions and remain objective, lest their judgement be clouded. And Spencer’s judgement had been clouded on more than one occasion.
“You can’t be with me because you don’t want to see me get hurt?”
“That’s correct, yes.”
You wish his tone wasn’t resolved, that you could persuade him to see reason, your reason. Instead you ask, “What makes this injury different from the others? Why do you get to decide how this relationship ends?”
“I can’t keep doing this, y/n. It’s not sustainable.” Always scientific, always the pessimist. Why couldn’t he ever take a leap for love? Why couldn’t he fully give himself to you?
“Spence—”
“You’re a distraction, and I…” He takes a deep breath, forcing the words past his lips. “I don’t need that. There’s nothing more I have to say.”
He leaves you alone with the ambulance, alone with your thoughts. Alone with your tears.
—
Your skin is warm as Spencer trails his fingers down your body, gracefully pressing his lips onto your collarbone. He delights in your sighs, testing the waters of your pleasure. Your hand curls in his hair, tugs, and he brings his mouth up to meet yours.
You smile into the kiss as he settles between your knees, hand sliding up to hold your cheek. He breaks the kiss and your lips chase his, aching for another taste. But he’s firm, breath mixing with yours as he murmurs, “You’re beautiful.”
Spencer wakes to sheets twisted around his legs. Eyes still closed, he reaches a hand out for you, only to find… you’re not there. Reality crashes into him like a train, and his mind reminds him of the fact that you’re not his anymore, you sleep in a different bed now.
Reality hurts, his memory is alluring, and Spencer just wants to go back to sleep. But then his phone rings on the bedside table, and he answers the call with a groan.
—
“Reid…”
Spencer tunes out Morgan’s voice with some effort, wrapped in a memory. That eidetic memory, once serving him well in catching criminals and party tricks, now serves only as a reminder of your lips on his, your fingers framing his face, your gentle touch on his skin.
He knows that if he concentrates, he can still hear your sighs in his dream, trace the curve of your lips. He’d do anything to be there, to be back in your apartment and in your arms. Instead, the team’s flying out to New York to hunt another case, catch another criminal.
“Reid.” There’s Emily’s voice now, and the sound of a female voice that belongs to anyone but you abruptly drags him out of his reverie.
His gaze snaps into focus on the case file in JJ’s hand, and he blinks away the final remnants of the dream.
“Reid, you okay?” Derek’s voice is gentle, and Spencer knows what he must look like — messy hair, messy mind, messy thoughts of you.
“Yeah,” He blinks away the concern, but his eyes meet your gaze. Spencer looks away before he can linger, but knows you’re watching him in his peripheral vision.
He wants you to stop. He wants you to continue. He doesn’t know what he wants.
—
Another case completed, another criminal caught.
The BAU bullpen is dark, lit only by the light escaping Hotch’s office and the lamp on Spencer’s desk. It’s late, even for you, and you’re still not entirely sure why Spencer told you to “come find me later.” But he’s always led to more questions than answers, and you find him muttering over the case file as you approach his desk.
“Hey,” your voice can’t be more than a whisper, and he pulls his eyes away from the gruesome images in his hand.
“Hey,” comes his reply.
“You, uh… you wanted to see me?” Your hands fumble together, touching the finger where your promise ring once was.
“Yeah, I…” Spencer pauses, lets his mind catch up to his mouth, thinks through what he wants to articulate. He’s not entirely sure why he asked you to come, either, but he knows that he misses you and he wants to apologise. And the words that leave his mouth aren’t pretty, they don’t solve anything—all Spencer knows is that he loves you and should have never given you up, distraction or no. He’s realised that he cannot afford to lose you. “Is it selfish for me to miss you?”
You blink in surprise, staring at the lonely brunette before you. There’s something in his eyes that suggests he really does miss you, really does regret letting you go. But if he truly needed you, truly loved you, why would he let you go?
“You don’t need me, Reid,” you eventually sigh, and your words hurt him in more ways than one. “You said so yourself. I’m an unwanted distraction, remember? Of course you remember.”
What happened to Spence? What happened to you? What did he allow to happen?
“Of course I need you, I always need you,” the words leave his mouth before he can think, before he can analyse your tone and speech pattern and wrap his head around the fact that you think he doesn’t need you. As if it hasn’t always been you.
Instead, you shake your head, and back away from him. Spencer seizes the opportunity to drink you in—eyes slightly glassy, arms crossed against your chest, head turned away from him. Tears that mean you’re upset, distance that means you’re uncomfortable, all signs pointing to the glaringly obvious truth that he’s lost you for good.
“Don’t— Don’t do that, don’t profile me like one of our UnSubs.” Your voice has hardened now, and he brings his gaze from your posture to your eyes. “You clearly don’t know me at all.”
“y/n, I—”
Your name on his lips is desperate, and it takes every ounce of your will to not take the extra step into his arms. But you pause, silent, waiting for him to continue.
His silence speaks volumes. You know that if you linger, if you allow yourself to touch him, you’ll never be able to walk away. So you turn toward the exit, head stubbornly facing forward.
Risking a final glance, you allow yourself one second to drink him in. To admire the way a strand of hair curls over his forehead, framing his features. To look into the brown of his eyes, to wonder at the depths of his imagination and ingenuity. To love his gentle heart.
But the second’s up, and you leave the BAU a hollow vessel.
#spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid fic#matthew gray gubler x reader#matthew gray gubler imagine#matthew gray gubler one shot#matthew gray gubler fic#spencer reid angst#matthew gray gubler angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds one shot#criminal minds imagine#derek morgan#penelope garcia#jennifer jareau#emily prentiss#aaron hotchner#david rossi
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Breaking Point
Summary: The Reids' are on the brink of divorcing, with the need to figure out whether or not the other is worth it. Requested here
A/n: time to put on your sad playlist besties. I know you have one. falling by Harry styles, my tears ricochet by Taylor swift, the night we met by Lord Huron if you need any inspo
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angsty angst)
Content Warning: swearing | mention of divorce
Word Count: 5.0k
Masterlist
"It's so fucking exhausting being in love with you!" Y/n screamed across the room at Spencer.
They were far from trying to remain quiet for Peyton's sake. Neither of them was thinking about the fact she would have been able to hear the whole fight, far too focused on the intense anger that ran through them.
It was close to their tenth fight in two months. If they weren't fighting, screaming at each other for hours, then they weren't talking. Hours, even days, worth of dead silences where they refused to say more than the bare minimum to each other. The speechlessnesses turned into fights that never got resolved. There was no cause, which meant there was no fix.
It was breaking both of them more and more each day, the slow fall out of love with no hope to fix things. Each day was spent heartbroken, minimizing the amount of time they had to spend together. The distance between them was almost immeasurable, a dark pit of sorrow.
The apartment they used to love, which used to feel like home, was freezing cold. Every step was like walking on eggshells in some uncomfortable place that wasn't theirs.
The horrible chilling feeling was not something either of them had felt during their relationship. There used to be so much love, ten years' worth of total adoration. Sure, there were times when it wasn't the easiest, but their love had and was meant to always fix all.
Spencer scoffed at what she said. He knew there was no chance they were still in love. "That's a lie. Tell me, when was the last time you said you loved me and actually meant it?" He asked, his voice laced with sweeping pain. A pain that they were both feeling that only the other could heal. The arrogance in his voice made her furious, and she ignored the underlying meaning in his question.
But when was she last told him she loved him? At least a month. Since she properly meant it?... Three?
Y/n was past thinking through the consequences of her words. "Don't act like you still see any hope between us."
"I sure as hell don't," Spencer affirmed, his arms crossed defensively over his body. Somehow, they were both a few feet apart and worlds apart. There were angry tears, too, being quickly wiped away before they'd had the chance to stream down their hot cheeks.
Taking a deep breath in, Y/n knew what she needed to say. Maybe the only thing that could stop the hurt. "Sign it then. It's on your desk." She signed the divorce papers only two days ago, knowing it was all over. At least it would be a little less painful if they just called it all of now. Save themselves from one less fight.
Y/n didn't know how to be without Spencer. He'd been everything since they were 25. Almost a decade of being together, and it was all for nothing. Nothing but a whole lot of heartache, painful memories, and doubts. The only silver lining was Peyton. The five-year-old made any amount of pain inflicted on and by her parents worth it.
But whoever was standing in front of her wasn't Spencer. Spencer was the softest person she knew. Reserved when they first met, but quick to show her every angle of his personality when he trusted him. Still, he was always gentle, romantic, loving. Spencer always used to buy her exactly thirteen roses for the day they got together, letting the unlucky number become his most fortunate. Pancake Sunday Spencer would make sure they ate pancakes together even if he was walking in the door with takeout pancakes at 11pm. He used to hug her at every opportunity he got, but now she couldn't feel the lingering tingles of his touch.
The worst thing was, he used to love her, and she knew there was no way to get it back.
This new Spencer, who she didn't like one bit, was heartless. She didn't think he was capable of loving anyone, and she couldn't waste any more time figuring him out. It wasn't like she would ever be able to love anyone else as deeply as she had loved Spencer, but she didn't have to spend any longer being married to him.
He used to make her laugh, but now he was just making her cry.
Spencer's phone ringing interrupted the hard stares they were giving each other, both trying to figure out if there was anything worth fighting for.
With a calm facade, he answered the call. "Hey, Garcia." Y/n already knew. "Yeah, I'll be there soon." Spencer ended the phone call, already walking to the closet to get his go-bag. She wondered if he'd come back when he wasn't obligated to anymore.
"If I asked you to stay, would you?" Y/n asked before she could stop herself. Even if he called Penelope back right away, it wouldn't fix anything. Maybe that question could elicit some form of emotional response from him that wasn't anger.
Spencer looked confused when he faced her again. There clearly wasn't anything left for them. "No." He replied firmly, looking at her one last time before walking out of their once warm bedroom.
Peyton was in the lounge when he entered because, of course she was, they hadn't exactly been quiet about it. When he looked at her, he didn't see anything but himself. Not even because of the physical resemblances between them. If he looked in a mirror, he was his father, as much as he had always tried his best not to be. He was walking out of their home, leaving the miniature version of himself a parallel to his former self.
"Daddy." She whimpered out, bottom lip quivering. Her arms were protectively crossed over her chest, more specifically her heart, like she was trying to protect it.
God, he hated himself: barely able to look at his own daughter from the shame of his actions, not able to properly love her mother, doing to her what his own father had done to him.
Spencer crouched down in front of her, dropping his bag. "Hi, princess. Daddy's got to go to work." He was still crying, not able to hold it together for Peyton's sake.
She flung her arms around his neck, tightly hugging him. "Why are you crying?"
"I'm, uh, just really going to miss you," Spencer replied, holding her tightly. He really was going to miss her when he only got to be a part of half her life. Even less if Y/n wanted more than half custody, something she wouldn't have trouble getting with his chaotic work schedule. His little girl, who he might only get to see every second weekend.
Peyton realized the error, intentional to him, in his words. "What about Mommy?" She asked, still hugging him.
Spencer was trying to imprint the feeling of her hugs. He wondered if she would still hug him once the bandaid was finally ripped off and her parents were divorced.
Her question about Y/n threw him through a loop, squeezing his eyes shut, so he didn't sob more than was appropriate if he wanted to keep her in the dark for just a little longer.
"Yeah, I'll miss her too." He answered after a long pause.
He'd seen her close to every day for the 3591 they'd been together, even more counting the extra year he'd known her before they started dating. When he pulled back to look into the wide brown eyes of his daughter that matched his own, Spencer was reminded of something Y/n had once said. I get to look at one eye color for the rest of my life, and I'll always feel love.
Spencer placed a kiss on Peyton's forehead. "I think she really needs a hug, though." A hug he wouldn't ever be able to give her again.
Peyton looked as if she was going to ask why, but she didn't. "Be safe, and love you." Another thing Y/n always said, dropping the 'I' off once Peyton was old enough to talk, so it was easier for her to farewell her father.
Standing back up, Spencer nodded, running a hand through her curls. "I will and love you." He replied, waving goodbye to her as he got closer to the stairs. The last look in who knows how long.
Downstairs, before he reached the door, he had to walk past his home office. Right where he knew the paperwork to end their marriage was. Hesitantly, he walked in, the magnetism hard to resist. Much more delicately than he'd treated Y/n, he touched his finger over the front page, trying not to be sick at the words. He took the suffocating ring off his fingers and placed it on the wooden desk. All it had been doing was taunting him, and he was sick of it.
Still, he couldn't quite grab the pen, so he left it, walking straight out the door to witness whatever gruesome case they had.
Y/n tried to stop her crying when Peyton lightly knocked on the door. "Come in, baby." She requested, adjusting the pillows behind her. There was a light pitter-patter of feet on the floor, followed by Peyton climbing onto the white covers.
"Mommy," Peyton said, frowning as she reached out the wipe the tears off Y/n's cheek. "Are you and Daddy going to be like Riley's parents?" She asked. "Her Mommy lives in one house and her Mama in a different one."
Lying to her daughter had never been something Y/n was fond of. "I don't know, hon. I'm sorry we weren't using our inside voices. " She answered, taking a moment to stroke through her hair. She was so pretty, a constant reminder of what she and Spencer could achieve. "It's late, though. Do you want to sleep in here?"
Peyton accepted the offer eagerly, getting under the covers next to Y/n, right where Spencer slept.
Spencer also had questions to answer. The BAU team was too focused on the case to notice the missing ring. He was far too good at compartmentalizing for them to know something was wrong. Not until they were on the jet and he was sitting next to Emily, pointing to something on the case file that she noticed. Choosing not to comment on it in front of the team, the unit chief assigned their jobs. She and Spencer were left to go to the precinct.
"Alright, what's wrong?" Emily asked as soon as they were in the car. She could feel the pain radiating off her. Spencer had always been her little brother, someone she protected, and she'd seen him in more than his fair share of pain.
Spencer frowned at her, feeling like he'd done a good enough job at masking it. "What do you mean?"
Taking her eyes off the road for a moment, she gave him a stern look with undertones of concern. "Your ring."
He really thought he'd made it out of the woods, deceived a bunch of profilers. When he looked at his finger, the tan line was too obvious not to notice. He wondered how long it would take to fade.
"We're not..." Spencer's voice broke as he sighed out a sob. "Doing too well."
Emily felt saddened by the fact Spencer thought he needed to hide it. She showed him through her furrowed eyebrows and sad smile. "You could have said something." She reminded him. Spencer nodded at that, although they both knew he wouldn't have. "What's going on?"
"We're getting divorced, I guess." Spencer figured, able to see the contract whenever he closed his eyes. It wasn't something he'd said aloud, but he was too numb to feel anything. "Well, not 'I guess' the paperwork is on my desk." He corrected himself
"You didn't sign it?" Emily asked softly. She couldn't believe Spencer and Y/n were getting divorced. She'd only ever seen them so in love.
Spencer thought the question was bizarre, but he answered regardless. "No. I didn't have time to read through it."
"It would have taken you one minute, two tops." Emily countered, explaining why she'd asked the question. "There's another reason you couldn't sign it. We'll probably be back in a few days, so tell her."
The case went on for a lot longer than a few days. Emily kept his secret, but her words repeated in Spencer's head. It must have been subconscious because he didn't realize why he couldn't even touch the pen until Emily's observation. He always missed his family when he was on a case, but thinking about Y/n both broke his heart and made him furious.
Back in DC, Y/n tried to keep everything as normal as possible for Peyton's sake. It didn't stop her from having to cry herself to sleep every night. When Spencer didn't come home after a week, she felt a little bit worried. Not trying to be stalkerish, she checked his phone's location to see he was still in Georgia.
Spencer had only been gone for a week when Y/n met Ryan. Peyton had run down the hallway, accidentally kicking her soccer ball into the man carrying his groceries. Once he complimented her skill and showed her how to do a new trick, he and Y/n started talking.
She thought they'd go back to just being neighbors, but she seemed to see him around more frequently, and they quickly became friends. Ryan, a music teacher, showed Peyton how to play guitar, let Y/n rant about Spencer, and confided in her about his own marriage.
Peyton quickly warmed to him, inviting him to her soccer tournament, where the two adults spent most of the time laughing- something that earnt Y/n a whole bunch of dirty looks from other parents who knew the blond was very much not her husband.
The little girl still asked about her dad every night, something Y/n didn't have an answer for. She thought it was odd he'd been gone for so long, but Penelope or JJ would have called if something wasn't okay. Her best guess was back-to-back cases, but the lack of phone calls made it difficult to tell.
Y/n also found it difficult not to think about Spencer. Every spare second she had was consumed by him. Every day she walked right past his office, not daring to go in. She knew he might have signed it, but the more time that went on, the more she hoped he didn't. Of course, she loved Spencer. That was probably part of the problem, but it was a reason she had to fix things. She decided that if he was agreeable to repairing things, she wouldn't stop until everything was right.
One month and five days after Spencer left, his converse reappeared by the door. Peyton noticed as soon as she walked inside after school, quickly looking up at Y/n with wide eyes.
"Is Daddy home?" She asked, already bouncing up and down.
Y/n quickly glanced around, seeing his keys and wallet on the side table. "I think so." She nodded, her heart clenching when she realized there was an increasingly apparent time limit on their relationship. The top of the hourglass was almost empty.
"Can I go see him?" Peyton hopefully asked, taking her shoes off.
"Sure, baby. Just maybe don't wake him if he's sleeping." Y/n replied, watching her daughter race off before she cried. With a hand over her mouth to quieten the sound, she sobbed.
Spencer was asleep. Peyton dragged Y/n to look at him sleeping. He was still in his work clothes, on top of the covers on his side of the bed. She knew she was still in love with him when she saw him, soft curls a mess on the pillow, long limbs curled up, and more stubble than usual, like he hadn't shaved. He looked warm.
He didn't wake before dinner or before Peyton went to bed. Y/n chose to sleep in the guest bedroom instead of next to Spencer, unsure of what he wanted.
Saturday's were soccer games, and Spencer was still sleeping when Y/n and Peyton left the house. Clearly, the long case had taken everything out of him.
Ryan was already at the soccer pitch, a hot chocolate in his hand for Peyton and a coffee for Y/n. "Have I told you you're the best ever?" Y/n asked, nudging him on the shoulder while they stood together along the sidelines of the soccer pitch.
"You could more often," Ryan replied, looking at her for a moment before his attention turned back to the game. "Go Peyton!" He cheered as she kicked the ball in the general direction of the goal. Y/n joined in by clapping, giving her a big thumbs up when she turned around to look at them.
Peyton's eyes quickly shifted to follow someone else walking along the sidelines, and so did Y/n's.
Spencer, and he was right in front of her.
"Um, Ryan, this is Spencer, Spencer, this is Ryan, he lives two apartments down." Y/n very awkwardly introduced them, stepping out of the way so they could shake hands.
Ryan was giving him a big smile that Spencer wasn't matching. "It's nice to meet you." Ryan politely said, clearly not letting the weeks of Y/n's strongly worded opinions about her husband cloud his judgment. He threw Y/n a 'what is going on?' glance, reminding her she'd neglected to mention the fact Spencer was home.
"Uh, yeah, you too," Spencer replied, the look on his face anything but thrilled. He was fiddling with his hands in his pockets, something Y/n knew he did when he was nervous.
However long the intensely awkward pause was, it was broken by Peyton running over, drawing all three of the adults' attention. "Daddy!" She cheered, flinging her arms around Spencer's legs.
"Hi, princess." Spencer effortlessly picked her up, holding her on his hip. He really didn't know how much he missed her, but it was relaxing to have her head resting on his chest once again while she looked at the two other adults.
"I, uh, should be going," Ryan said, knowing there was probably a lot for them to talk about. "Good job today, Peyton."
She reached a hand out to give him a fist bump. "Bye, Ry." She waved to him as he walked off.
It was like they'd lost a buffer between them, only having the five-year-old now. Spencer was clinging tightly to her, very aware of the awkward distance between him and Y/n.
"I've still got a few errands to run, but I'll be back soon." Y/n finally broke the silence, wanting to get out of the situation as quickly as possible.
"Yeah, okay." Spencer agreed, not like he had a choice as Y/n placed a kiss on Peyton's forehead, waving goodbye to her. He dialed up his smiling for the little girl.
She tightly clung to him. "Can you carry me to the car?"
Spencer shifted herself so she could wrap her legs around his waist. "Of course." He obliged, carrying her to the car before buckling her in. "Do Mommy and Ryan ever kiss?" He asked on the drive home. What was he meant to think about the conventionally attractive guy accompanying his wife to his daughter's soccer game?
Peyton quickly shook her head. "Yuck." She squealed. "You're the only person she kisses." Even that many words were enough to calm his nerves. At least Y/n hadn't already moved on. Blissfully unaware, Peyton continued to ramble, asking Spencer every and any question about what he'd been doing while he was away.
When they got home, Peyton ran to her room. She made Spencer sit on the couch with a hand over his eyes. "Okay, are you ready?" She asked, standing next to his open palm.
"I'm ready." Spencer played along, waiting for her to hand over whatever the surprise was. It was cold when she dropped it into his hands. A metallic, circular band. Opening his eyes, he looked between the ring and Peyton's face. "What's this?"
"Duh, your ring, silly," Peyton replied, her sass paralleling her mothers. Spencer clenched it, having missed the metal band around his fingers. He tried not to cry, only smiling at her. "Why do you always wear it?" She asked, taking a seat next to him.
Spencer bit his lip, unsure how to reply to her. "It started in Ancient Egypt. Because the full circle doesn't have an end, it represents everlasting love and commitment. Their rings were made of woven materials, though. Ones like this came from the ancient Romans and Greeks where rings became a symbol of faithfulness." He went with the summarized, analytical answer.
Peyton reached out, running her finger over the well-polished band. "So you wear it because you'll love Mommy forever?" She rephrased what he was saying, trying to make it make sense in her brain.
Spencer nodded, biting his bottom lip. Of course, he'd always love her, but he wasn't sure if that was enough. "Yeah, something like that." He agreed.
"Okay, one more question," Peyton advised him, despite the fact she'd asked about a hundred since he'd gotten home. Spencer never minded, knowing he had always asked lots of questions. He nodded at her to continue. "Can you make me the cheesy pasta?" She requested. "Don't tell Mommy, but you make it nicer."
Lightly, Spencer chuckled, holding his pinky out to lock with her much smaller one. "Your secret is safe with me, munchkin." He wished he could bottle the grin she wore.
After lunch, Peyton informed him he'd missed three new episodes of their favorite show before she promptly fell asleep on the couch. Spencer paused it for when she woke up. He took a book from the bedroom, lingering for a moment to debate whether or not he should just pack up all of his things. If she hadn't kicked him out in the 24 hours he'd been there, that must be a good sign.
Y/n came in after two, grocery bags in hand. She put them in the kitchen, trying not to pay too much attention to Spencer in the armchair as she unpacked them. It still felt distant, but a little bit of hope hung in the atmosphere. She just hoped it wouldn't turn into another fight once the silence ceased.
Spencer cleared his throat when Y/n gently stepped into the living room. "Should I, um, wake her?" He offered, feeling ridiculous that he didn't know how to look after his own daughter.
"It's okay. There was some waiting up till late to see if you would wake up last night." Y/n told him, her smile and focus directed at Peyton. She leaned down to place a kiss on the little girl's forehead after she pushed the mass of brown curls back.
There was a warmth in what Spencer thought was a dark pit he'd fallen into. It was more words than he got from her when they were in a non-talking phase, and he was so far past thinking logically that he was clinging to every bit of hope.
"I'm gonna, um, go." Y/n decided, knowing the uncomfortable feeling wasn't going to go away. Especially with Spencer's eyes so fixed on her.
"Yeah," Spencer replied, focusing his attention back on his book. He felt irritated that he couldn't tell her how he felt when she was right in front of him. Emily told him to, so why couldn't he get the words out?
Y/n opted for baking cookies then cleaning the kitchen rather than spending more awkward time with Spencer. It wasn't meant to be so uncomfortable between them.
Like the scent of freshly baked cookies woke her up, Peyton was in the kitchen as soon as they were out of the oven. "Can I have one?" She requested.
Maybe it was Y/n's guilt about the tension in their household that led her to hand the little girl two cookies. The couple was under pressure to keep it together during dinner, but they pulled through for Peyton's sake. She deserved at least one last dinner.
Y/n elected to put Peyton to bed, feeling it would be easier than trying to find something in their house to occupy her mind. She didn't know where Spencer was when she entered their bedroom, only intending on taking some pajamas and brushing her teeth. His office was her best guess, maybe even signing their divorce papers.
She stopped in her tracks when she could hear Spencer's crying from the opening in the balcony door. She hated how it still elicited an emotional response. But she couldn't deny the fact it broke her heart over and over.
"Hey." She said quietly, stepping outside into the fresh night air. It was chilly, and she wasn't sure how Spencer was out there without a jumper. He was sitting on the outdoor armchair, his foot bouncing up and down like it would help him process everything.
He barely looked up from where he was sitting, wiping the tears off his cheeks with his fingertips. "Hi." He replied, shuffling a little awkwardly.
Y/n took a leap of faith, sitting down on the outdoor couch near him. It was the far side, but it was the closest they'd been since they were screaming at each other. "I think we should talk." She tentatively told him, her heart already starting to race as her heart clenched. She didn't want to initiate a conversation that would ruin their marriage, but she couldn't go on with the rift between them.
"'m sorry I didn't sign it," Spencer declared, his tongue darting out to dampen his lip. "I can do it now." He offered, preparing to get up and officially end their marriage.
"That's not talking," Y/n shut him down, desperately wanting to beg him not to.
A silence fell between them, and all the nerves, hurt, and anticipation that surrounded that. It was a heart-thumping, pulse-increasing, thought-racing type of quietness.
"How do we fix this?" Spencer asked maybe the one question he didn't know the answer to. "Can we fix this?"
"Yes." Y/n quickly responded, not giving him time to him dwell on it.
It was a desperate plea and one he was going to take. "I wish I stayed," Spencer confessed, not really having anything to lose.
Y/n gulped, his words slightly alleviating the sinking feeling inside her. "I wish I didn't sign it." She admitted, wanting to be sick at the thought of the cold pen in her hand as she numbly signed the white paper.
"I am so sorry." Spencer carefully spoke, no longer bothering to wipe up his tears.
"I'm sorry." Y/n apologized, daring to look into his deep brown eyes. It made her heart flip. "For the last torturess three months."
Spencer shifted to sit next to her. Experimentally picking up her hand to hold. He felt like him again. The warm skin against hers was impossible to ignore. It made everything frozen around her feel more hospitable. Melting away her iced heart.
"I love you," Spencer told her truthfully. "I don't say it enough."
Stroking her thumb over his palm, Y/n agreed. "I love you." She told him, gently resting her head on his arm. Maybe the DC night wasn't really that cold.
"Maybe we should talk to someone?" Spencer hesitantly suggested, not wanting to amplify their problems if she disagreed.
She smiled softly at him. "Yeah." She knew they still had a few things to work through, but sitting and talking was a good start.
"So, Ryan?" Spencer just had to know. There weren't that many friends that Y/n really trusted, and never as close as she'd let this new guy into her life.
"Is married," Y/n added on, easing his worries slightly. He wouldn't have blamed her, but he hoped she wasn't cheating on him. "His wife is a Captian in the Navy who's in the Middle East."
Spencer squeezed her hand. "I, uh, didn't think... wasn't trying to be jealous." He mumbled out.
Y/n shook her head. "Shows you care."
"I do." Spencer quickly stated, turning to look at her.
Pulling back, Y/n unthreaded their fingers, reaching a palm out to rest against his cheek. She was determined not to go without touching him for that long ever again. Even in the glow of the city lights, he was so beautiful. Still a little broken, but smiling at her.
Y/n dove forward, reconnecting their lips for the first time in what felt like forever. It was as passionate as their first kiss, the one she waited for four dates to share with him. It was like they were remapping each other out, basking in the familiar warmth that was still there. The fire inside both of them that was very much not dead.
Everything felt much more settled as their breathing synced, matching smiles ending the kiss.
Y/n used her fingertips to move his chin up, down, left, and right. "I think the stubble has to stay." She decided.
"Yeah?" Spencer questioned, raising his eyebrows as he watched her admire his face.
Nodding, Y/n agreed with an affirmative nod. "Yeah, but those bags under your eye are most definitely not a good look."
"Trying to get me into bed?" Spencer joked. A grin he hadn't had in a long while lighted up his face.
Hitting him on the shoulder, Y/n giggled. "To sleep only, Reid." She informed him, tapping her palm against his cheek before getting up.
Spencer wrapped his arms around her as she walked inside, engulfing her in a bear hug. "Okay, Reid."
Yeah, Y/n was, and, being with him, in their apartment with Peyton just down the hallway, she was home.
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Settled Down
Summary: After his first case at the BAU, Spencer recounts his love story to a curious Penelope and Derek.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Content/Warnings: so much domestic fluff, one slight mention of sex, a tiny bit of angst (resolved)
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: this is supposed to be a prequel to ‘Splish Splash’ (could be read as a stand-alone) inspired by these asks from @samuel-de-champagne-problems but i messed the timeline i created in the first fic up a bit
Masterlist
“Hey, Pretty Boy,” Derek patted Spencer’s shoulder, “Round of drinks after your first case?”
“Sorry, Morgan, I would but I should get home to my wife,” Spencer packed up his satchel.
“Your wife?” Derek asked, shocked.
Spencer pointed to the ring that never left his finger.
“Damn, guess I’m not as observant as I thought,” he chuckled.
“She’s been on baby duty since we’ve been away so I bet she needs to catch up on sleep,” Spencer stated.
“You’ve got a kid too?” Derek shook his head like he was dreaming.
“I didn’t have time to unpack my desk yet so I don’t have the framed pictures up but yes, I do,” Spencer smiled.
“Well Pretty Boy, you’ve got more game than I originally thought. You may need to teach me a thing or two.”
“I honestly don’t know how I got lucky enough to land Y/N. She was the first woman I ever dated and that was it. The search was over, I had already found my soulmate,” Spencer smiled into the distance, reminiscing.
“Alright, you’ve got me hooked. I wanna hear the story now,” Derek sat back down in his chair.
Penelope entered the bullpen with her coat draped over her arm, “Why are we sitting? I thought we were going to the bar?” she pouted.
“Did you know Reid was married with a kid?” Derek asked her.
“Of course, I have to do background checks on everyone before they join the team and I would be pretty bad at my job if I missed a marriage and birth certificate,” she replied.
“Well no one told me and now I want to hear the story,” Derek crossed his arms.
“Ooh I love love! I want to hear too,” she pulled up a chair.
“I’ll give you guys a summarized version because I really do have to get back home,” Spencer relented because he couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk about his family, “So basically it started when…”
-
He always saw you when he was passing on his way back from chemistry class. Always under the same tree. Always reading a book. Always looking beautiful.
It wasn’t until one day your book was replaced with a chess board that he found the nerve to go up to you. You looked rather confused, trying to play against yourself, although the little furrowing of your eyebrows was adorable.
“I play too,” he spoke as he awkwardly stood in front of you.
You looked up at him, distracted from your deep thought, “Excuse me?”
“S-Sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt, I said ‘I play too’ in reference to chess. I-If you ever need someone to play with. Did you know that theoretically the longest possible chess game could be 5,949 moves. I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Spencer grimaced, pushing his hands into his pockets, “I’ll just go. Sorry to bother you.”
“Wait, no!” you exclaimed before he got very far, “Please don’t, I would love someone to play with. I find it particularly hard to play against myself because either way I lose. I would normally read a book but it feels as though I have read every one in the library,” you smiled.
“I know exactly how that feels. I’m Spencer, by the way,” he added.
“Y/N. Are you free right now?” you asked hopefully.
Spencer nodded in agreement and took the seat next to you under the tall tree.
-
“That tree is actually referred to as ‘The Lovers’ Tree’ now by many students because we were always under there together. We would meet in between classes and take our lunches there,” Spencer informed them proudly.
“So when did the baby come into the picture?” Derek asked
“Her junior year and my final year finishing up my third PhD, we decided to skip the separate apartments and roommates and just live together. This also meant a lot of…free time alone that we certainly didn’t have much of before,” Spencer spoke.
“My man,” Derek smirked.
“That led to Sawyer.”
-
“Well fuck,” you looked down at the two distinct lines on the pregnancy test.
You still had two years of college left. Could you deal with raising a kid? Would you go into labor in class? Sorry for the interruption professor, my water just broke and I need to call my boyfriend.
These were the thoughts that were racing through your mind as Spencer was away at his dissertation consult with his advisor.
The downstairs neighbors were probably wondering what you were doing because you were pacing in the living room for about 40 minutes until Spencer got home.
You quickly stuffed the test into the couch cushion and sat down on top of it when you heard his keys jiggling.
“Hey love,” Spencer greeted you, kicking off his converse and throwing his keys on the counter.
“Hi,” you smiled nervously as he sat down right next to you, wrapping an arm around you.
“Great news, my advisor thinks I’ll be able to graduate a semester early because I’m so ahead on my dissertation,” Spencer spoke excitedly.
“That’s great, Spence! Are you going to go for another or is 3 PhDs enough for now?” you asked.
“I think I may earn a few BA’s in the future but I’d like to browse my job offers now,” he explained, “This guy named Jason Gideon is hell-bent on recruiting me for the BAU in Quantico, Virginia. Can you believe that?” Spencer chuckled.
You immediately tensed and he noticed. Would he really go to Virginia without you? Would he break up with you or try to make long distance work? You didn’t have the exact statistic but usually that doesn’t work out.
“What’s wrong?” Spencer looked down at you.
“You c-can’t just leave me, Spence,” you sobbed.
“Who said I was leaving?”
“You and your stupid job in Virginia and I’ll be stuck here all alone and miserable and pregnant,” you bawled.
“Y-You’re pregnant,” he sputtered.
You were crying even louder now, “I didn’t even want to tell you like this. I wanted to have a cute reveal thing planned and I messed it up and you’re leaving and everything is wrong.”
“Love, I’m not leaving you ever,” he whispered, gently cupping your jaw to force you to look up at him.
“You’re just saying that because I told you I’m pregnant,” you sniffled.
“No, I’m saying that because you are the love of my life and the best thing to ever happen to me,” he replied, “As far as all job offers go, it’s a couples’ decision for us. I would never take anything without consulting you first. I’ll stay local if you want to finish college or I’ll take you with me. I promise you, love, I will give you and this baby the life you deserve,” he kissed your forehead as he hugged you.
“How do you do that?” you asked with watery eyes.
“Do what?”
“Make everything right again and I can’t even tell you you’re going to be a dad properly. This is going to be an awful story to tell people. I let it slip while I was bawling my eyes out about you leaving.”
“Then I’ll forget,” Spencer grinned.
“That’s physically impossible for you to do,” you stated.
“Huh?” he asked, “What were we just talking about?”
“Nothing,” you smiled, “Just about how not pregnant I am.”
-
“That’s the real story and she hates it but I think it’s sweet,” Spencer told Penelope and Derek.
“How did she tell you again?” Penelope asked, “I’m dying in anticipation here.”
-
“I got you something,” you sang as you ran into the bedroom where Spencer was editing his dissertation.
Spencer closed his laptop and pulled you into his lap, “Good, I need a break anyways.”
“I love when you wear your glasses. They make you look extra adorable,” you kissed his nose then his lips, “Okay open,” you pushed the box towards him.
Inside was a pair of dinosaur converse.
“I love them,” Spencer grinned, “And I love you. Thank you for the gift.”
“Who said that’s the full gift?” you pushed another much smaller box towards him.
Inside was a matching pair of tiny dinosaur converse.
Spencer grinned, realizing where this was going now but still playing along, “I think these would be too small for me, love.”
“They’re for our baby!” you exclaimed, “I’m pregnant!”
“Oh my god!” Spencer picked you up and twirled you with all the pent up excitement he had been waiting to release since you told him the first time, “You're going to the best mom in the world.”
“I may be beat out by the best dad in the world though,” you giggled.
Spencer looked down at the two pairs of shoes, “You didn’t get any for yourself?”
“They didn’t have my size,” you shrugged, “We can order them online.”
“That won’t do,” Spencer shook his head, lacing up his new shoes, “I’ll be back.”
Spencer was back 4 hours later with a pair of dino converse in your size. He had driven to a store 2 hours away that had them in stock.
You both wore them to your first ultrasound appointment the following week.
-
“Now that’s adorable,” Penelope was dabbing her tears away with a tissue provided by Derek.
Spencer stood, collecting his things, “As soon as I accepted the job offer from Gideon with Y/N’s approval, I asked for an advance on my first paycheck. I bought her an engagement ring, proposed, and we got married at the courthouse the next day. But that story is just for us,” Spencer smiled, “Now, I really do have to go. See you Monday, guys.”
Spencer texted you to let you know he was coming home and he picked up takeout on the way.
You were waiting for him on the couch with Sawyer in your arms and something clutched so firmly in your fist, you were scared it would break.
You heard Spencer pull into the driveway and unlock the front door with his key.
“Love, I’m home. I brought back dinner,” he called up the stairs because you were usually in the nursery with Sawyer at this time of night.
“In here,” you called back from the living room.
“Hey,” he smiled, setting down the paper bag on the kitchen counter and making his way over to you both.
He kissed you while simultaneously stealing Sawyer from your grasp. The little girl wrapped herself around her daddy’s neck.
“I missed you both so much,” he spoke, “How was everything?”
“Spence,” you laughed, “You called multiple times a day, you know everything was fine except for a little tummy ache on Wednesday.
“Must have been something you ate,” Spencer concluded, eyeing the gift bag you still held in your hand.
“About that…” you handed it to him.
He looked at you skeptically as he pulled out the converse box. No, it couldn’t be. This was too good to be true.
But lo and behold, another tiny pair of dino converse emerged from the box.
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always you & i (spencer reid x reader
prompt: 🐓 (i love angry confessions and if you could somehow make it either jemily or spencer x reader hehe - @safespacespence
summary: spencer confronts you as you work through your hidden feelings for him.
category: fluff, a bit of angst
pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader
content warnings: mentions of tobias hankel incident
word count: 0.9k
A/N: i know this took a long time, but it was a lot of fun. i also very much enjoy this trope so thanks for letting me write it.
masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
It goes like this: one second Spencer Reid is standing in the local police department with you, and the next you’re watching him being brought back to life on a screen.
It also goes like this: when Spencer Reid is finally cleared to fly again and he’s curled up on the jet’s couch, you become filled with anger.
How dare he? All of you had gone through training—he knew damn well how risky it was to split up before backup was even on its way. He had no idea that the rest of you had figured out Hankel was the unsub, had no idea that you would be right behind him in case things went wrong. He could’ve died—he did die, for a couple of minutes, Spencer was gone—and you wouldn’t have been able to do anything to save him. Every time you saw him, you imagined how easily the situation could have gone wrong, how close it had come.
It was wrong to avoid Spencer. He was your best friend, after all, ever since the two of you had joined the BAU around the same time. The two of you clicked in a way you hadn’t done with anyone else before, and it wasn’t until he was lying dead on the floor of a dirty old cabin in a graveyard that you understood why.
You were in love with Spencer Reid.
“Can we talk?” the man of the hour asked, nearly a week after the incident. His injuries were well into the process of healing, though the mottled yellow-green of the bruises on his face made you wince.
“I’m a little busy, can we do it later?” you sighed, pretending to be busy with the case report you’d finished five minutes earlier.
“Does that actually mean later?”
It wasn’t often his tone grew such sharp edges with you, but now you could practically feel the cuts slashed across your heart from them. Even so, you knew they rang with a truth you’d been too scared to admit: you had no intentions of ever talking about this with him. Either the feelings would dissipate away and you could carry on the friendship with him never the wiser, or you’d lose him.
“No, it doesn’t,” you admitted, knowing you were caught by him. You stood, hoping to make a quick escape.
“Y/N, what happened?” Spencer asked, sounding more frustrated than you’d ever heard him. His hazel eyes were wide, looking at you with a glassy doe-eyed look that made you want to crumble.
“Nothing happened.”
“It obviously did!” Spencer shouted in his frustration, pulling the attention of the other agents. No one on the team would save you though, not when they all knew this conversation needed to happen for days. “Just tell me.”
“I can’t!” you yelled, this time being the one to stun him.
“Why not?”
“I just can’t, okay?” Why was he making this so difficult? Why couldn’t Spencer just let this go, let you go? When would he understand that you couldn’t continue as things were, not right now? It’d be better if he was angry at you—if he learned to hate you.
“You can tell me anything, Y/N.”
“Not this!” Then, as though all the energy rushed out of you at once, you deflated. “I can’t tell you this.”
“Why don’t you trust me?” It was the heartbroken crack in Spencer’s voice that did you in, that destroyed any resolve you’d once had.
“I do trust you, Spencer,” you tried to tell him, but even to your ears, the words sounded hollow.
“You don’t! I just want to know why.”
“Because you died, okay?!” The words pulled a gasp from him, but he didn’t say a word. He only stared at you where you stood, heaving after the admission. “It took you dying for me to realize how much I love you. Do you realize how fucked up that is?”
“You...You love me?” Spencer asked, and it was like the world stopped turning. He knew. Oh God, he was meant to be recovering from what happened and now he knew. “Y/N, you love me?”
“I’m sorry, forget I said anything,” you snapped, voice tight with the tears you fought not to shed. He didn’t need to see the way his inevitable rejection would hurt, not when you never wanted him to know anyway.
A hand wrapped around your wrist stopped your escape, keeping you shrouded in the humiliation of a public rejection.
“You love me, so you’re avoiding me?”
“I...yes,” you admitted, keeping your eyes pointed low at your shoes.
You could have imagined a thousand reactions to your admission, but never once did you picture Spencer standing in front of you laughing. It was a small thing, really, more of a repeated exhalation but still, he was laughing.
“What’s so funny about that?” you asked, wondering when he got so callous.
“I can’t believe you,” Spencer returned, “That’s the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”
“Oh yeah? Then what would your grand plan have been, genius?”
“You could’ve told me. I could’ve done this a lot sooner.”
You’re not sure where the confidence came from, but suddenly Spencer was kissing you. It was everything you’d dreamed of but never hoped to get. Even through the claps and cheers, it was only you and Spencer.
It was always you and Spencer.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
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That’s When
Summary: Sometimes Spencer’s mouth works faster than he his brain. And when that happens there’s casualties of the heart
CW: Spencer says some hurtful things, insecurities, and self doubt (mention of suic*de as a leading cause of death in the US no one expresses harmful thoughts)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female (She/Her) Reader (Resolved/Happy Ending angst)
Word Count: 3.5K
Author’s Note: I’ve had this one on the back burner forever!! Pretty much since April when Fearless TV came out, but give @strawberryspence a big applause for giving me a reason to re-edit/re-write
That’s When
Emotional stress is the sixth leading cause of death in the United States. Right behind cancer, heart disease, accidents, and suicide. Stress is a silent killer. It keeps up behind you and sinks it’s sharp teeth into any weak flesh it can find. Spencer can’t remember a time when he wasn’t stressed. For him, it’s almost like stress is the norm. He knows that it’s not healthy, but it’s hard to admit when you’ve been chasing life at full speed for more than half your life. All Spencer does is run. He chases the monsters of his present and the ghosts of his pasts, only taking a moment to breathe.
He can feel when the stress starts to bubble to the surface. It threatens to burst, but somehow Spencer keeps it bottled up. He’s had to do it his whole life in order to survive. From a 12 year old in a public high school to a Fed in prison, Spencer has spent his whole life swallowing every dose of stress he’s been giving. He knows the signs of stress; his hands start to shake and his vision goes blurry. But he swallows and throws himself headfirst into whatever or whoever needs him. This week it’s his mother. Last week there was a child abduction case in LA. Who knows what next week will bring.
Spencer walks out of his bedroom and into the living room where Y/N sits curled into the couch sipping from her mug with a book in her hands. Spencer wants to soak in the peaceful moment watching the person he loves most. Ever since prison, he feels like he should feel more grateful for these moments. He knows that they are hard to come by, but the stress of knowing what could be coming always prevents him from not truly enjoying it. Spencer can’t remember the last time that he actually lived in the moment. It’s been years and years of just surviving.
He must not be as quiet as he hopes, because Y/N turns in the direction of the door. She puts down her mug of tea and her book on the coffee table, making her way over to Spencer.
“Good Morning, Spence,” she says, planting a quick kiss on his cheek with a smile on her face, “I’m glad that you slept in today, you needed that,” Y/N tells him, walking to the kitchen.
“I did,” Spencer says, “It’s nice to wake up when the sun’s up,” he says, following Y/N into the kitchen. She reaches up to pick out Spencer’s favorite mug from the cupboard. Noticing the small, yet loving gesture, Spencer rests his chin on Y/N’s shoulder. Without any words, Spencer knows that Y/N knows it means I love you.
“You really need to get more sleep, Spence,” Y/N says, pouring the steaming cup of coffee, “It’s not healthy the pace that you’re going at. You need to slow down and let me-”
“I got it, Y/N,” Spencer says, “It’s just been a stressful week at work. Emily has been getting more and more crap from the higher ups and I have to give midterms next week and I have three doctor appointments for my mother and-”
“You’re just proving my point, Spencer,” Y/N says seriously, “I mean it. You’re not even 40 and you’re going to give yourself a heartattack and the rate you’re going. Not to mention you live off a diet of coffee and granola bars,” she chides, turning around to hug Spencer’s waist.
“You know you’re the best person I know, right?” Spencer asks, kissing Y/N’s head. He can smell her tea tree and lavender shampoo. She smells like happiness and home and Spencer wishes he can smell it all the time, “I just gotta get through these next two weeks. And then it will be easier,” Spencer explains, not quite believing himself.
“Sure, Spence,” Y/N says unconvincingly. She breaks from his grasp, walking back to her tea and book in the living room, “I just. I’m just worried about you. You’re spreading yourself too thin and I-” she says, trying to get out what seems like months of frustration.
“You know what, Y/N. I don’t want your help. Talking about it with you isn’t going to help me. You know why? Because your badgering and nagging isn’t helpful. It’s annoying and you’re annoying,” he says, staring at Y/N straight on.
Spencer is a profiler. He’s been trained to watch and look for microexpression. But Y/N is stoic. Either she’s very strong and Spencer’s wounding words don’t hurt or she’s incredibly stubborn and won’t let him see her break. Whatever it is, Spencer knows that he regrets it instantly.
“Is that how you feel?” Y/N asks, her voice deadly quiet, “Is that how you really feel, Spencer? I annoy you?” her voice is cold and distant, that usual loving tone is gone. Spencer wonders if he’ll ever hear it again.
“Yeah, Y/N. It is,” he says back, not recognizing the words coming from his own mouth, “I’ve been doing this since I was, what, 12? I don’t need you and your nagging,” he says, digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole he might not ever be able to get out of.
“Well, Spencer. I’m sorry that you feel that way. And I’m sorry for wasting your time,” she says, turning away from him and rushing into his bedroom. Spencer wants to chase her in there and tell her that he didn’t mean it. He’d never mean it, but he still said it. And he hates himself for it. These days, Spencer’s pretty sure that he hates himself more than he loves himself.
He half expects that Y/N will hide in the bedroom until she cries it out. Spencer’s more than prepared to spend the rest of the day sitting at the door apologizing over and over, until Y/N opens the door. But that doesn’t happen, instead Y/N comes flying out of the room as quickly as she went in. She carries a small bag, stuffed with some of her things she leaves at Spencer’s apartment. Y/N stays with him so much that it’s like she practically lives here. Spencer supposes that it’s probably the worst time to be thinking about asking her to move in. He thinks that he’s ruined that chance and any other future with Y/N his imagination could cook up.
“Where are you going?” Spencer asks, his voice sounds hollow and very unlike himself, “You should stay here, I’ll go,” he offers, not wanting to hurt her anymore.
“No, Spencer. I’m- I just need some space. And you need to get your act together because that wasn’t my Spencer. My Spencer wound never hurt me like that. I never thought you could do that to me? I would never think-”
“Y/N! I didn’t,” Spencer says, crying and walking towards Y/N in an attempt to keep her from leaving.
“No, Spencer. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to hurt me and try to make it better. I-I need time. I need time to figure things out. And so do you,” she says, brushing past him. She slips on her shoes before grabbing her keys that hang on the rack. She’s facing the mirror that’s way too covered with pictures of them to function as a mirror. Spencer notices that she glances away quickly from their smiling faces, as if just looking at them is painful. Watching her do that is painful for Spencer.
“Please, Y/N. I just—” Spencer tries, walking to the door thinking of the ways he can stop the best thing that’s ever happened to him from slipping through his fingers.
She doesn’t say goodbye. Y/N just slams the door, leaving Spencer, again, alone. His hands rest on the door on tight fists and he has to summon the will to not crumple right there. He hates his memory sometimes. Spencer can’t forget anything; terrible cases, the trauma of prison, and the most hurtful thing he’s ever said.
He sits there, on the wooden floor, replaying the last couple of minutes in his mind. The way Y/N face twisted with pain and hurt. Spencer promised himself he’d never ruin his only chance at happiness in the first two weeks he met her. Yet, here he is, sitting on the floor of what should be their apartment, hating himself.
Spencer told her he didn’t need her, that she was annoying, that she was a bother. His words wounded the only soul he’s sure that knows him. He doesn’t know what to do. Whenever he doesn’t know what to do, Spencer knows who to go to. Except, the only person he can go to is the last person that wants to see him. Y/N has an unparalleled ability to make all of Spencer’s problems melt away. Whether it’s when she runs her fingers through his hair or holds him so tight it’s like their hearts beat as one. She’s the cure all and he might as well have thrown it out to sea.
Spencer, in all of his attempts to hide his broken soul, had broken another in the process. He knows his soul, his goodness is long gone. He supposes that he lost it in a place where he was always on the other side of the bars. Spencer fell out of all that pain and despair right into the arms of the first person that looked at him, not like he was broken, but like he was whole. She mended back together the fragile pieces of his soul. It’s overwhelming sometimes to be loved so purely. Sometimes he’s tempted to think that he doesn’t deserve it, that all of his sins made him unworthy of love as pure as Y/N was offering.
But he soon learned that love doesn’t pick and choose. It sticks with you when the nightmares seem real and the window blinds look too much like prison bars. Love isn’t cruel even when the world is. But Spencer was. He broke her heart, something he promised himself he’d never do. Spencer could manage with the light being a little more dim for himself, but he never wanted her light to be anything but brilliant.
If Spencer was a braver man, maybe he’d walk the streets calling her name. Maybe he’d knock on every door he can think of, looking for the last chance of happiness that he let slip through his fingers. His heart twists, knowing the little bit of peace he felt has ended. He’s gotten through everything life has thrown him so far, but Spencer doesn’t know how he’ll get through life without Y/N.
—
Spencer hasn’t spoken to Y/N in three days. Even when he’s on cases that take him across the country, he always makes time to talk to her at the end of the day. Three days is the longest they’ve gone without speaking and Spencer wonders if the record will keep growing. He hates not being able to talk to her, to tell her everything that pops into his mind or to just look over at her and remind her how beautiful she is. After three days, Spencer is lost at sea and isn’t sure he’ll ever find his way home.
“Hey Reid,” Luke says, spinning around his chair to face Spencer. He can tell that there’s something wrong with him, and if Luke can tell that means Penelope knows, and if Penelope knows than JJ knows, and if JJ knows then Emily knows, and if Emily--
“Reid, dude,” Luke says a little bit louder to get Spencer’s attention, “What’s up with you,?” he asks, sliding over closer to Spencer in his swivel chair. Spencer isn’t sure if he should be grateful for paperwork days or not this week. On one hand it means he can’t distract himself from Y/N because his entire desk is filled with photographs of them, but on the other hand he’s home if there’s an off chance she comes back to him.
“Nothing, Alvez,” Spencer says, refusing to make eye contact with his concerned co-worker, “I appreciate the concern, but there’s work to be done and this chatter isn’t getting you anywhere with your pile of paperwork,” he snaps, rubbing his eye with his palm to stop the twitching. He thought that it was gone, but sometime during the last three days his nervous tick returned. Spencer knows what it is, the silent killer: stress.
“Really, man? Are you that transparent?” Luke asks, not expecting an answer as he turns Spencer around his chair to face him, “Spence, I’m worried about you. Penny and I are both worried about you. You seem to be down, and look, man, I know you don’t like talking about it, but please tell Y/N if you’re not okay. She’s with you for the long run,” Luke says, having know idea how his words affect Spencer.
Spencer wonders if he should confess. If he should tell Luke that his girlfriend practically broke up with him after he shattered her heart. But Spencer doesn’t need anyone else to confirm what he already knows. Spencer hurts the only person who can heal him and she’s gone.
“Work has been stressful,” Spencer says, hoping that it will be enough for Luke to get off his back, “and uh, I think I’ll take your advice and talk to Y/N,” Spencer tells Luke, even though he’s talking more to himself.
“And for what it’s worth man, you two are perfect for each other. I didn’t know you before,” Luke says, his voice trailing where the word “prison” should have been, “but from what I see now, you’re a good man, Spencer. You’ve got a good heart and don’t let that go to waste wishing you said something or didn’t say something,” Luke tells him, leaving quickly as he comes as he wheels back to his desk. Spencer is left to think of what Luke said.
He glances over at the collection of photos with Y/N and knows exactly what he needs to do.
—
It’s late. Not too late that she might already be sleeping, but late enough to when she’ll be sitting down to knit or crochet with a mug of tea. He knows her nighttime routine like it’s his own, because it was his up until 3 days ago. Spencer knows he can spend the rest of his life regretting his words, knowing he’ll hate himself for breaking the only soul that knows his soul.
Braver than ever, especially compared to the night that could have ended everything, Spencer knocks on Y/N’s apartment door. He’s never been more scared, even in Mexico when he was chased by my cops or in prison when he was targeted for his job. Spencer didn’t have anything on the line then, but himself. But now, he has everything on the line.
“What do you want, Spencer? To yell about how ordinary I am. You don’t think I already know that?” she says. Y/N is dressed in her bathrobe and pajamas. Spencer can see the top of his old CalTech tee-shirt peeking out from the top of the robe. He wonders if it’s Y/N not ready to let a piece of him go yet.
“I want to apologize,” Spencer says humbly, looking at the ground as he talks, “I want to apologize for hurting you, Y/N,” he tells her, still not looking at her.
Y/N is quiet for a moment. Spencer can tell that she’s debating whether or not she should slam the door on his face and forget that he ever existed. But the hope in her eyes screams at Spencer to keep fighting for her. He wants nothing more, but to graze his hand against her cheek and tell her how much he loves her.
“Do you want to come in? I made tea,” Y/N says, stepping to the side to let him walk in. Spencer always felt more at home at Y/N’s apartment. Though he wasn’t sure if it’s the walls or the arms of the woman that loves him that makes it a home. He hates referring to her in the past tense, it makes it seem so final, when he wants them to be anything but that.
“Y/N I want to-” Spencer starts, ready to recite his rehearsed apology, but goes quiet when Y/N’s hand motions for his silence.
“Spencer, I think you’ve had plenty of chances to say what’s on your mind. It’s my turn,” Y/N says firmly, sitting down on the stool in her kitchen. A long scarf attached to knitting needles rests on her lap and a steaming cup of tea lays forgotten on the table in between them.
“What you said to me, Spencer. It really hurt me. I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone like I love you,” Y/N says, making a fist. She does that when she’s angry or sad. Unable to help himself, Spencer knows that it’s a psychological response to stress.
“I know,” Spencer says, “I know that I hurt you. Hurting you is my worst nightmare,” Spencer says quietly, running his finger around the circle designs of Y/N’s placemat. He’s tempted to feel hope when Y/N’s soft hand covers his. He doesn’t realize that he’s shaking until her touch steadies him.
“Spencer, if we’re going to do this together,” Y/N says holding back her emotion as she speaks clearly, “if we’re in this together, then I need you to know that you can’t do this to me. You can’t shut me out and not tell me things. When you’re feeling stressed, you have to tell me,” she says, squeezing his hand.
Spencer’s eyes flicker to hers for the first time. He came here thinking that he’d get kicked out or ignored. Either way, part of Spencer still thinks that he’d be leaving here with a broken heart.
“I wanted to give you time, time to just have some space,” Spencer says, his eyes daring to hold Y/N’s. He feels brave, though, with her hand in his and her eyes holding his steady. He wants to kick himself for forgetting how brave and warm and safe she makes him feel.
“Thank you,” she whispers, “I needed time, some space to figure this all out,”
“I know,” Spencer says, “it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done, what I did to you. I don’t particularly like myself most days, but with you, Y/N, with you I think I can learn to love myself,”
“You’re easy to love, Spencer,” Y/N says, “you’re so easy to love even when you push me away, but please don’t push me away,” she cries as Spencer brings her hands up to his lips tentatively. He’s not sure if he should kiss them or not. He doesn’t want to kiss her to be thrown out of her apartment. He knows if he kisses her for the last time it might as well be his last kiss ever.
“When can I come back?” Spencer whispers into the warmly lit kitchen. He’s in that limbo of needing to know the answer, but scared out of his mind to actually hear the answer. It’s a risk he's willing to take, because she’s worth ruining himself millions of times over and over.
“You’re already here, aren’t you?” She says, like it’s obvious.
“I am,” Spencer says, kissing her knuckles as she giggles. It’s a good sign, he thinks. It’s telling that maybe there’s enough love for him in her to take him back.
“You can come back anytime you want, Spence. When it’s 5:30 in the morning and you couldn’t sleep because you missed me too much or when it’s raining and all you want to do is dance with me in the rain. That’s when, Spence. That’s when you can come back,”
“I did you wrong, Y/N. I put you through all this,” Spencer says, lowering his head as Y/N strokes his face. He closes his eyes at her soft touches, not realizing how much he missed them once the promise of them could have been deserted. He always thought that he hated being touched. Even as a kid, he was scared of being touched, maybe because of the germs or because it could mean that the affection could stop one day. But now, Spencer knows that it’s the light, feathery touches that he craves. The touches that have his skin memorized, each dimple, freckle and wrinkle.
“Leave all those in our past, sweetheart. I know you didn’t mean it. So don’t say it again,” she says, dusting her fingertips over his eyelashes as he closes his eyes. He feels safe and loved with her holding his face, “I love you, Spencer Reid,”
“Loving you is the best thing I’ve ever done, Y/N” Spencer says, “I’ll be a lucky man if you’ll have me forever,”
“Forever isn’t long enough, but it will have to do,” she says, closing the gap between them for a kiss that’s nowhere near their last.
Thank You for Reading! Let me know what you thought here! I love reading your comments, seeing your tags, and answering your asks- they make my day.
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true lies - s. r. (9/15)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.
Chapter Summary: Spencer and you talk about your friendship.
Warnings: angst, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: this is angsty and I’m so sorry! hope you enjoy! gif not mine.
Series Masterlist
previous part
“Have you read that book I brought you the other day?", Spencer asks as you get off the elevator together in the morning.
You nod. "I started it, but I haven't finished it completely yet. But it's really well written and, above all, very exciting", you answer him, giving him a smile, which he happily returns.
"Another book of his was made into a movie last year. We could watch the movie together sometime, if you like", he suggests as he holds the glass door open for you, like a gentleman, so you can go through first.
"I'd love to, actually."
You are - apart from Emily, of course - the first of the team to arrive today, but you don't mind. You both leave your bags at your desks before heading to the kitchen for your morning coffee. While Spencer fills the cups, you find the sugar and milk before adding both to his coffee in prodigious amounts. Your grips are rehearsed, because lately it's become routine for you to get your coffee together, and it feels good to stand so close to him and feel his warmth through your clothes, which you don't let on, of course. But being friends with him is so easy, so simple, you can't help but enjoy it.
Spencer playfully nudges you with his elbow as you put the sugar back. Before you can nudge back, you hear Emily call out. "Y/N? Will you come into my office for a minute, please?" She stands at the railing and her gaze darts from you to Spencer before she turns and disappears again. You nod, though she's already gone, before smiling once more at Spencer and walking up the few stairs. When you enter the office, Emily is already sitting behind her desk, quickly closing a file that says "top secret" on it, which gives you pause, but you don't address her on it.
"What's up?", you ask her as you close the door behind you.
Her expression is composed. "We need to talk."
You sit down on the chair in front of her table, coffee in both hands. As far as you know, you haven't done anything wrong, which is why you're a little unsure what Emily wants to talk to you about and where this conversation should lead. But you don't have time to think about it, because she gets straight to the point.
"I'm really happy for you that Spencer and you are getting close again", she says, clasping her hands on the table in front of her. Your gaze drifts to her kneading fingers, and something tells you this isn't a conversation between friends.
"But?"
She smiles weakly. "Do you think it's the right thing to do?"
You raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Emily sighs. "While I think this friendship is good for both of you, or whatever this is between you, I also think it's not fair to him."
"Not fair?" you inquire, even though you know exactly what she's getting at. Emily nods.
"After all, your current friendship is based on a lie, Y/N. You told him you didn't love him, and apparently he believes you. But what if something more develops between you? Are you willing to keep lying to him and pretending you didn't make the deal?"
You'd love to get up and leave, but Emily's gaze has softened, and it tells you she's worried not only about Spencer, but about you, too. "I know exactly what I'm getting into. I made the deal, after all."
"I'm aware of that, and I'm not trying to force anything on you, Y/N. And certainly not trying to change your mind. I just want you to think hard about where this friendship can take you. And how far you're willing to go for it." She gets up from her chair and circles the table until she stops in front of you.
You have to swallow hard. "We've got him, Emily. It's all right." Your voice trembles, because you know full well that Emily is right. It's not fair to Spencer. None of this is fair to him at all. You lower your eyes and look into your cup of coffee as if it holds all the answers. "What do you want me to do, Emily? I love him." It's been ages since you've said it out loud, afraid that something bad might happen, but it just bursts out of you, lifting a weight off your shoulders that you didn't know was weighing you down. As you look at Emily, a tear runs down your cheek.
Carefully, Emily takes the cup from your hands and sets it down on the table before pulling you from the chair and hugging you tightly."This is up to you, Y/N. Just know that I'm always by your side. No matter what you decide."
-
"You're the absolute best", you grin at David as he hands you a glass of whiskey. He winks at you before dropping onto the lounger next to you. You carefully sip your drink, and the cool whiskey is a pleasant contrast to the weather, though it burns a little on the finish.
It's unseasonably warm for this time of year, which has enticed much of the team to storm Rossi's mansion on a Saturday off, enjoying its large garden, cold drinks, and the pleasant waters of the swimming pool. While Emily, David and you occupy the loungers by the pool and the sun warms your skin, Tara and Spencer sit on the terrace playing chess. You try to tune them out, concentrating on the chirping of the birds and the pleasant breeze - if it ever comes - but in between you hear Tara swearing and have to grin. No one wins against Spencer at chess. No matter how many times you try.
"Thanks for putting up with us", Emily grins at David, pushing her sunglasses down her nose a little before leaning over and looking over you in his direction. "And for the drinks, of course. I don't think anyone else here can afford booze that expensive." She holds her glass out to you and you clink yours, resulting in a nice sound.
"I invited you to enjoy the nice weather with me", David begins, taking a sip of his drink. "Not for you to drink all my good stuff." His complaint is feigned, as he can't help but smile. Emily leans back and has to grin as well.
The sun beats down on you relentlessly, and you're glad you slathered on sunscreen beforehand. In fact, it's so warm that you unceremoniously pull your shirt over your head to let more air get to your hot skin. The movement draws Emily's attention back to you and again she pushes her glasses down a little.
"Nice bikini. Is that new?"
You shake your head. "Bought it ages ago, but never had the time or opportunity to put it on." You grin at her. "Unfortunately, when you have to work around the clock, you don't have the free time for some things."
"I already took the hint," she replies with a smile, sipping her drink before giving you another look. It lands on bare skin just below your bikini top. "I didn't know you could speak French."
"I can't." You feel the alcohol burning in your throat as you drink every last drop of the whiskey. Both Emily and David look at you uncertainly, but say nothing in response. They also say nothing as you try to avoid the conversation by getting up from your seat with the glass in your hand. You pretend not to notice the looks they exchange among themselves. "You guys want anything else?" They both shake their heads, and Emily watches you as you slip on your shoes and disappear toward the house, where the bottle of whiskey is waiting for you.
As you walk past Tara and Spencer, you feel his gaze on you. "Are you okay?", he asks. You raise your empty glass and nod at him.
"Just need to fill it up", you reply and walk past them into the house without turning around.
You find the bottle in the kitchen on the counter. You pour yourself a little into your empty glass before closing the bottle and putting it back.You let the glass swirl in your hand, watching the liquid circulate inside before taking a hearty swig.
Actually, you don't want to be here. You didn't have any particular plans for today, but being around Spencer hadn't been on your to-do list at all.
Actually, you didn't want to be here. You didn't have any particular plan for Saturday, but being around Spencer hadn't been on your to-do list at all.You'd actually been avoiding him lately, hoping he wouldn't notice, but he's a good profiler. So you're not surprised when he enters the kitchen and stands on the other side of the kitchen island. Right in your field of vision.
"You shouldn't drink so much if you're going to stay out in the sun all day." You don't lift your eyes from your glass, but feel his on you. Without looking at him, you raise an eyebrow. "Alcohol causes blood vessels to dilate, which can lead to circulatory problems and unconsciousness", he continues to explain, letting his fingers dance across the cool marble slab.
"Good to know", you reply, taking another sip. Spencer puckers his mouth into a thin line, which doesn't escape your notice, but you don't want to ask either. You've resolved to spend as little time with him as possible, and asking him drunk if everything is okay with him would be a pretty bad start.
"Are you okay?", he finally asks you, you nod slowly even though it's anything but the truth. It hurts to have him so close, and to have to keep yourself away from him. To want to, you correct yourself in your mind. "I don't believe you."
You smile weakly at him. "That's not my problem." You're about to leave the kitchen, but he grabs your arm and holds you tight. "What are you doing, Spencer? Let go of me."
"Not until you tell me what's going on." As he swallows, you see his Adam's apple bounce. "That's what friends are for, Y/N."
You suppress a laugh. "This was a really bad idea."
"What?"
It's now or never. You gather all your courage and point to the space between you with your free hand. "This. The friends thing." Your gaze lingers on the spot where his long fingers curl around your arm. You feel his warmth on your skin, almost burning into your flesh, and you want most to snatch your arm from him and flee, but his grip is firm.
"Why would it be a bad idea?" As you meet his gaze, there's something in it, but you can't put your finger on what exactly.
"You shouldn't want to be friends with me, Spencer."
"And why not? Because you broke my heart?" Though his hand comes away from your arm, his voice and cool and determined.
You exhale deeply. "I think we need more time, more distance from each other, to make it work."
Something collapses in Spencer's face and you have to look away. "I've had a year. I don't need more time, or more distance. We were good friends then, Y/N. Why can't we be now?"
You blink away the tears in your eyes before looking at him again, hoping he doesn't notice them. "There's been too much going on, Spencer. I don't think this friendship is going to move us forward. Or do you any good. You shouldn't want to be friends with the woman who left you at the altar. You should want me to go away and never come back, not to spend the day with me like nothing happened." You realize you're talking yourself into a frenzy, but you can't stop.
"I have. For a whole year, and I don't want that anymore. I don't want to feel this anymore. I don't want to feel that way anymore. I want to be friends with you so I can be done with it." He doesn't wipe away the tear that has crept down his cheek. As he continues to speak, his voice breaks. "I want to be friends with you so I don't have to love you anymore." When you don't say anything, he runs his hand through his hair. "I don't want to love you anymore, Y/N, because that's what's not good for me. Because I lie awake at night wishing you were lying next to me. I don't want that anymore."
Spencer's words hit you so unexpectedly that they knock the air out of your lungs. You don't know if it's them or the whiskey making you feel like you're going to throw up, but you pull yourself together. You don't want him to know how much it hurts you. You'd like to answer him, but you don't know what either, which is why you stay silent and just look at him.
"I can't hate you because it's eating me up.And I don't want to love you because it's destroying me. The only middle ground I can think of is for us to be friends, and I thought you'd want that too."
"Spencer," you begin, your voice barely louder than a whisper. "It's not right. And you know it." Before all the dams really burst on you, you push past him. You're careful not to touch each other, because you couldn't bear it.
"If you care so little for me," he calls after you, and you stop without turning around. "Why did you get that saying tattooed in my handwriting?"
Tears run down your cheeks, and you leave without looking back.
next part
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#spencer reid#spencer reid fancition#spencer reid angst#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#Emily prentiss#david rossi#tara lewis
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