#Spencer Taylor

[science70]

NASA North American DC-3 space shuttle concept, 1969.

Art: Spencer Taylor Designer: Maxime Faget

[spencers-gun]

mgg as chip taylor (68 kill 2017) will forever be on my mind

[avis-writeshq]

07 — wildest dreams

summary: “he’s so tall, and handsome as hell”/”his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn warnings: rated 16+ for lots of kissing hehehe, reader wears a dress + makeup, a final ‘eff u!!’ to jeid LOL wc: 3.3k a/n: we have finally reached the end! thank you all so much for your support during this little project 😚💕 massive thank you to @astrophileous for beta-reading this entire project! congratulations again for finishing your thesis!! SERIES MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Spencer yawns softly as he steps out of bed, running his fingers through his unruly hair. He finally got it cut a few days ago and, even though it’s a lot shorter than what he is used to, he really likes it. After putting on his shirt that has fallen haphazardly to the floor the previous night, he walks into the kitchen to fix himself a cup of tea. 

He stirs the sugar with a spoon tiredly, his vision blurry from both the lack of sleep and the lack of glasses. The muscles of his thighs quiver with each step and he grimaces. Maybe he should start working out with Morgan. He dismisses the thought immediately. He still wants to live. 

He’s about to go back into the room when a pair of arms wrap tightly around his middle, and he lets out a breathless laugh. “Hey, angel.”

You grunt out a noncommittal greeting, your forehead resting between his shoulderblades as you continue to hug him. “Why’d you go?”

“I was thirsty,” he responds, turning around to hug you back. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts that you stole and he glows with pride, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “What’re you doing up, darling?”

“You left,” you respond groggily, leaning into his touch. “Got cold.”

Spencer, as you have learned, is essentially a human furnace. He exudes so much warmth both figuratively and literally that you have saved probably hundreds of dollars in electricity bills. He is so unbelievably warm and he always gives the best hugs, wrapping his arms around your frame and tracing circles into your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing the side of your face. “Go back to bed, angel. I’ll be there in a second, okay?”

You merely nod in response, reaching up and planting a firm kiss to his chin before padding back into your room, burying yourself under the covers. He arrives soon after, shuffling closer to you and pulling you in so that your nose is against his sternum. His fingers find the knots in your hair, skillfully and carefully untangling them. He feels you yawn as he continues his ministrations, and he presses yet another kiss to your head.

“You should move in,” you mumble against his chest, creeping a hand up under his shirt and brushing your nails against his spine.

He shudders at the contact, a quiet groan leaving his lips. “Yeah? You think I should move in?”

It is within moments like these where it becomes glaringly obvious that Spencer is no longer the naive ‘kid’ he was when he began working at the BAU. He’s grown into himself now, filling out his dress shirts better and wearing an easy smile on his face. Spencer has always been attractive, all of the girls who loved him before are a testament to that (no matter how bitter you are when coming to this realisation), but he’s now a lot more comfortable with it. He likes to say that you are a big part of that journey. You would simply tell him that the growth was his to make.

“You basically already live here,” you tell him. “It’s close to the train station and there’s that good Thai place across the road.”

“I’d love to move in with you,” he says softly, stroking your cheeks. He’s had an affinity for your cheeks since he first met you, poking at them teasingly and you would do the same in retaliation. Now, he can let his touches linger. “Really. I can get the rest of my things here by the end of the week.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

He smiles. “Exactly.”

You yawn again, your eyes squeezing closed so tightly that an unnecessary tear slips past the corner of your eye. Spencer wipes it away with his thumb before kissing your nose, relishing in the way you let out a breathless laugh. 

“I love you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours.

You beam at him, kissing him softly. “I love you.”

*** 

“And it’s like, if you don’t want to get yelled at, don’t come late to every single shift that you have, y’know?” You complain from your bedroom, pushing your lashes upwards with the side of your finger. You’re leaning over your new white vanity, forgoing the chair, as you try to keep your lashes up. “I mean, I get that this is her first time doing work experience, but come on she isn’t nine. And get this, babe, she doesn’t even have a phone. She’s seventeen years old doing work experience and she doesn’t have a phone. I have to remind her of her shifts through her mother. Do you know how awkward that is?”

Spencer hums as he does up his tie, coming up from behind you and and glancing at you for a moment. “She doesn’t sound like someone who wants to be doing work experience, angel.”

“I swear she’s only doing this because it’s compulsory at her high school,” you lament, turning around to face him. “And she is so rude. You should have heard what she said to Veronica, Walter, it was insane. Like, she swore in front of a client. In front of a child.”

His nose scrunches up at your words, resting his hands on your waist and stroking up and down with his thumbs, feeling your curves through the pretty dress you picked out. “You should fire her.”

“Legally I cannot,” you say with a huff. “But I’m pretty sure she’s going to quit or something. ‘Ronica will let me know, and honestly, good riddance.”

He laughs as he kisses your forehead. “I don’t doubt it, angel.”

You smile at him, no longer disgruntled from your frustrating coworker. “You look really good,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

“You look exquisite,” is his quick response, continuing to stroke up and down along your sides. He kisses you slowly, one hand moving to cup your neck and holding you there. “Is this a new dress?”

“Got it for forty bucks,” you say with a grin. “This boutique was having a sale downtown. Guess how much this used to be.”

He laughs at your enthusiasm, kissing you again. “How much?”

“One hundred and twenty,” you say giddily as you straighten his tie. “That’s a steal, right? So I bought two more dresses the same price. That’s like, two free dresses, y’know? Girl maths.”

Spencer can’t help but smile as you tell him all about your shopping spree, his pointer finger dragging up and down your jaw. He doesn’t have the heart to correct you about the inaccuracies of whatever ‘girl maths’ is, instead choosing to nod along. “Yeah?”

You nod with a silly smile. “Yeah! And I figured that I might as well get JJ and Will’s wedding gift while I was out and I got these super cute wine glasses and–”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his fingers delving into your once neat updo, and his mouth pressing firmly against yours. In seconds he has you sat on the seat of your vanity and he leans down to kiss you harder. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs against your lips, “so pretty.”

“You messed up my hair,” you scold half-heartedly, your fingers grazing against the collar of his shirt. “We’re gonna be late to the wedding.”

“It’s not our wedding,” he breathes, kissing you again and murmuring between them, “they’ll understand.”

You pull away, cheeks hot and lips swollen. “They’ll know.”

“Good.”

“Spencer!”

You arrive at Rossi’s mansion with five minutes to spare, guests already filing through the doors. From the corner of your eye, you spot Aaron and Emily speaking in one of the living rooms while JJ follows an older lady up the stairs holding a white dress in her arms. After placing the wedding gift on the table, you venture out into the garden where the tables are decorated with white lace tablecloths and the chairs have big satin ribbons on the backs of them. Cream and white roses are arranged elegantly on top of the tables and the fairy lights provide an even bigger sense of magic to the scene. 

“The place looks amazing, David,” you praise, beaming at the older man. “Truly, it’s like something out of a fairytale.”

He chuckles as he holds a flute of champagne, gesturing to where Derek stands with Penelope. “I had some help. You’re taking care of yourself?”

“Of course,” you respond, waving to Derek who looks all too pleased to see you again. “It has been a really good couple of years.”

“You and Spencer have been together for, what, two and a half years?” He asks as he looks over to where Spencer is showing magic tricks to Henry. 

“Sounds like a long time, huh?” You ask through a breathless laugh. “It’s been good.”

David smiles proudly at you, patting you on the shoulder. “I’m happy for the two of you. You’re like a daughter to me, you know that.”

“I know,” you respond, grinning. “Thank you.”

“Let me know when the big day happens,” he says with a wink. “It’ll save you from renting a venue.”

You only laugh and shake your head as you move to where Spencer is, ruffling his hair as Henry giggles loudly. Spencer lets out a shout in protest, swatting your hands away lightly before holding them in his own, bringing his lips to the back of it.

“Having fun?” You ask them, grinning at Henry who nods excitedly. 

“Uncle Spencer showed me a magic trick!” He exclaims, clapping his hands together.

“Oh is that right?”

Spencer offers you a sheepish smile, twirling a penny around his fingers. “Do you want to see?”

He doesn’t give you much room to accept or deny the offer, holding the penny in his hands and showing it to both you and Henry. 

“Behold,” he announces, “a normal penny. But this penny can travel through the astrological planes and dimensions. Watch closely.”

He holds the penny up to your face before snapping his fingers and, lo and behold, the penny was out of sight. He shows both his hands, front and back, a boyish smile on his face. Henry claps at the display, squealing and brushing his long hair away from his face. 

“Where’d it go?” Henry asks, pouting. 

Spencer beams at the enthusiasm and holds his hands out again. “Ah, now that is the tricky part. For that, I need an assistant… angel, do you mind?”

He holds you by the waist with left hand, kissing your cheeks before holding his right hand in front of your face. Henry shrieks at the display of affection, covering his eyes exaggeratedly. You laugh out of embarrassment, swatting at Spencer’s arms and rolling your eyes. 

“Stop torturing the poor child,” you scold lightly, wiping away his sloppy kisses. 

“Couldn’t help myself,” he dismisses, before waggling his fingers. “Now, to find that penny…”

He reaches up behind your ear, pinching at something, before revealing the penny in his pinched fingers. He watches as your eyes widen with surprise, his cheeks pinkening in delight. 

“How did you do that?” You ask, grabbing the penny from his hand and turning it over in your fingers. 

“He’s magic,” Henry provides helpfully, clapping his hands. “Just like Auntie Penelope! When I tell her about something, it magically shows up at my house in a big brown box!”

You laugh, not having the heart to inform him that Penelope is not magic; simply very good at spoiling the people she cares about. She has taken you on more than a few shopping sprees in hopes of spoiling her little godson, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the cute clothes and toys in the department stores. Recently, she’s been scouting out jewellery stores, going on and on about how difficult it is to find gifts for people. You had offered a few recommendations of your own, gesturing to the pretty rings and necklaces out on display, but she only dismissed your suggestions. 

“Auntie Penelope is basically a fairy godmother,” you tell Henry in explanation, chuckling. “Like in Cinderella.”

“I love Cinderella,” Henry says, his eyes lighting up. “Uncle Spencer read it to me! He said that the original story is about Ash-poo-tell.”

“Ashputtel,” Spencer explains to you, “the original story.”

“Ah,” you nod in remembrance, recalling the grim details of the story. You ruffle Henry’s hair. “You can hear that story when you’re older.”

The rest of the wedding goes without a hitch. Drinks are handed out by the ushers Rossi hired, along with cute little hors d'oeuvres. The ceremony in itself is perfection; JJ and Will sharing a kiss after saying their vows, and Henry being the ring bearer. Spencer holds your hand the entirety of the celebrations, brushing his thumb up and down the back of your left palm, carefully tracing each knuckle. 

As JJ and Will take to the dance floor, more and more couples join in. Derek and a very drunk Penelope join in with loud giggles, and Beth drags Hotch into the circle by the wrists. Spencer rests his hands on your waist as the two of you stand at the sidelines, watching with amused grins as Penelope trips over her own feet. 

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs into your ear, pulling you closer. “What do you say we get away from the crowd?”

You jump on the opportunity, already picking up your purse. “Who are you and what have you done to Spencer Walter Reid?”

He rolls his eyes at you, shooting a quick message to the team’s group chat to let them know that you were making an early leave. “Very funny.”

“No, no, I’m serious! Do you need to see a doctor? Like, a medical one?” You ask with jest as he opens up the car door for you. 

“Do you want me to change my mind?” He asks, laughing, before getting into the driver’s seat of the car. “I just thought that we could go somewhere. It’s not too late and if we hurry, I think we could catch the sunset.”

You smile innocently as he puts the car into drive, heading off to who knows where. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

“Tell me again,” he prompts, resting his hand on the inside of your thigh as he keeps his eyes on the road. 

“I love you.”

“I love you,” comes his immediate response, squeezing at the flesh of your thighs through your dress. A street sign passes overhead as he drives, reading the word ‘Anacostia’. 

“We’re going to the Bridge Park?” You ask curiously, peering out the window. 

He hums in affirmation. “I heard it’s pretty this time of day. I wanted to take you out somewhere nice, but I don’t know when we’ll have a case next so I figured that this would be the perfect time.”

After parking the car and locking it, Spencer takes your hand as you walk through the park. It’s a very popular area in Anacostia, the entire neighbourhood holding old historic buildings that have been refurbished. 

You relish the feeling of the breeze in your hair, your cheeks turning rosy as the temperature begins to drop. You made it just in time for the sunset as it paints the park in oranges and a soft lavender haze, your skin flushing gold from the lighting. You commit the image to memory as you stare at the view, your dress fluttering around your legs from the wind. 

In your distraction, you miss the way Spencer’s hand drops from yours, and you search through your purse for your phone. You click open the photo app, putting it onto the selfie setting as you turn to him.

“Walter, let’s take a–” 

The words die at your tongue upon the sight before you. Spencer, in his once neat suit and tie and all his germaphobic tendencies kneeling on the cold concrete, holding a velvet ring box in his hand. The box looks comically small in his palms as he looks up at you, his eyes glossed over and a tearful smile on his face. 

“Hi, angel,” he says softly, his voice cracking at the last syllable. 

“What’re you doing?” You ask, even though you know exactly what is going on. Blood rushes to your ears and you sniffle. “Spencer, your pants–”

“I love you,” he says firmly, the box in his hands quivering as his hands shake. His palms are sweaty and he swallows the nerves down his throat. “I love you. I’m not– I’m not good with words or with expressing how I feel but I know one thing for certain: I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He chokes out a quiet laugh as you take a step closer to him, wiping the tears away from his eyes. “I had a speech prepared and everything,” he says, embracing the feel of your warm hands on his cheeks. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur, crouching down so that you are eye level with him. “It’s okay, Walter.”

“No, I–” he swallows the lump in his throat and wets his bottom lip. “Love in the English dictionary covers a multitude of feelings. You can love doing something, or love a specific food, or love an object. In other languages, there are different words for different types of love and I think… I think that they got it right. There are a million untranslatable words that all mean love but I think the one that expresses how I feel about you would be the Chinese phrase ‘yuan fen’. It means that two people were… predestined to be together and I think– I know that we were meant to be.”

He sucks in a breath after his rant, smiling up at you. “Will you marry me?”

Tears slip from your eyes as you nod, pulling him up from the cold musty ground. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Spencer exhales, his arms looping around your waist. His nose burrows into the side of your neck and you can feel the hot tears against your skin.

“Thank God,” he breathes, moving his head to kiss your cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you respond, hugging him tight. “Was there ever any doubt?”

He laughs a little, shaking his head as he fumbles with the velvet box, slipping the ring onto your left ring finger. “No. Never.”

Spencer brushes a strand of your hair away from your face before kissing you slowly, the light from the sun finally going down. As you pull away, the speakers overhead come to life with the announcer clearing his throat.

“Unfortunately, due to the predicted rain that will be coming shortly, the fireworks show will be rescheduled. We apologise for this inconvenience.”

You peer up at Spencer curiously who looked more than disappointed. “Fireworks show?”

“That was the plan,” he says with a small frown. “I’m sorry, angel.”

There’s a crash of thunder and before you know it, small droplets of water begin to fall from the sky. Spencer immediately covers your head with his jacket, pulling you over to the car. 

“Wait, wait–” you laugh, resisting his efforts. “Walter, wait!”

“I’m not letting you get sick,” he scolds lightly, his curls sticking to his forehead from the rain. 

You laugh again, stepping closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Well, we don’t have a pool but… rain works too, right?”

“You’re insane,” he says, his forehead pressed against yours. “You’re crazy.”

A teasing grin makes its way onto your face as you waggle your fingers in front of him. “Yeah, well, you’re marrying crazy.”

“No regrets,” he responds, before pressing his lips to yours. 

In that moment, as he kisses you on the sidewalk in the pouring rain, you could have sworn that you felt sparks fly.

← previous part || series masterlist → || bonus !!

Thank you everyone once again for your support through this project! I have had so much fun writing it and I am so grateful for all the traction and love that it has received! With the help of this project, we have reached 2.1k followers! To celebrate, I have opened requests and you can find the event page here <3 thank you all once again and until next time !!

reblogs are always appreciated!

[luvingspence]

𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩

early seasons!spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer gets emotional once he realises how much his girlfriend loves him <3

also spot the taylor swift and twilight reference girlies! and apologies for how cheesy this is, it’s very rushed bc exams so it isn’t proofread :(

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

His apartment felt different now that she was here. There was more colour, her pink slippers were next to his, she now kept tulips in a lovely patterned vase in the kitchen, and there was now a thrifted clothing rack in the corner of their shared bedroom for the clothes that refused to fit in the large oak wardrobe.

The atmosphere felt altered too. The candles she burned smelled warm, he now couldn’t wait to come home, compared to how he used to feel. Knowing he would be coming home to an apartment that wasn’t empty and lonely filled him with a feeling that was almost indescribable. It was like having butterflies in his stomach, but all so much more than that. Something in his chest blossomed and happiness spread to every corner of his body when he saw her perched on the sofa with her fingers skimming the pages of one of his books, or when he saw her in one of his sweaters with the most adorable frilly apron around her waist when baking in the kitchen.

Though, today was an unusual day off. By some miracle, Hotch had managed to convince Strauss to get another team on-call for the coming week. After three back-to-back cases, all lasting a week long, Aaron knew his team needed to sleep in their own beds.

So there he was, in thick, odd socks many sizes too big for him, a green cable knit sweater, and grey plaid-pyjama trousers on his sofa watching re-runs and more re-runs, waiting for his girlfriend to come home. It felt strange to be the one at home for once, but it was pleasant.

“Spence, honey.” Manicured fingers carded through his long-ish hair, he jumped. She giggled.

“Sorry, you looked like you were about to doze off there,” She circled around from the back of the sofa and sat next to him, thighs touching and arms now tangled together, “guess you didn’t hear me come in, huh?”

“Guess not.” He bashfully winced, embarrassed by his skittishness.

“How was your day off then, genius?” Whilst inquiring about his day she pulled a blanket that Penelope had bought Spencer off from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around them.

“Good, it was good.” He leaned his head on her shoulder and cuddled closer. “It was going to read today but I just watched Doctor Who re-runs, I don’t get to do that often.”

“Sounds good, honey.” Y/n smiled softly and kissed his forehead, “you of all people need a lazy day every now and then.”

Spencer silently nodded and slide further down the sofa so he could rest his sofa against her chest. He felt something cold and metallic against his chest. A curious hum escaped his lips. “What’s wrong, honey?”

He sat up straight, now looking down at his sweet girlfriend. He brought his hand to her chest and fingered at the new metal handing from her neck.

It was a cute little golden locket. It looked to be vintage. It was oval in shape and had floral patterns and vines creating a lovely botanic boarder around the locket.

“This new?” He mumbled, still twirling the locket between nimble fingers.

“Oh this?” Y/n softly smiled down and wrapped a gentle hand around Spencer’s wrist while he played with the chain, “Yeah, it’s new. I saw it in a little vintage shop when I was out with Penny last week. It’s cute, right?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” It did look adorable. It fell neatly just below her collarbones. It was a very her necklace. He imagined it would look well with all of her clothes, especially the sundresses and lacy tanks she loved so much. “It’s very pretty. You look very pretty.”

“You’re the sweetest, Spence.” She grinned widely. She ducked her head and laid chaste pecks along his neck before resuming their cuddling. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulled her close and ran his fingers down the side of her arm, his fingers touched her so gently it felt like he was barely there. It was a sweet, rare moment of uninterrupted peace for the couple.

Spencer though, his brain was still whirring. Why hadn’t he noticed the locket this past week? It was more than unusual for him to not notice something new about Y/n. Maybe he should ask.

“Have you been wearing this all week?” She shook her head.

“No, it’s a locket! I didn’t want to wear it empty.” She giggled, she removed her head from it’s place on her boyfriends shoulder and fiddled with the locket’s opening.

“Did you put a picture of Taylor Swift or that other singer you like in there?” He chuckled.

“Lana Del Rey?” She corrected, “and honestly, I thought about it, but no.” She glanced up at him and smiled, he noticed a flustered expression on her face.

Once she got the locket open, he saw it. In a heart shapes frame inside the pretty locket, was an even prettier picture of the two of them. How she managed to get a photo small enough of the two of them to fit inside the locket, he was clueless.

“It’s us?” His voice became quiet, his pink lips formed a small pout.

The picture was simple, they had been out with friends in the summer. He was casual attire, which was a very rare occurrence, ordinary black trousers and a beige cable-knit sweater with his usual converse. Y/n was a sight to behold, however. Perched on his lap comfortably in adorable sandal-wedges and a sweet white sundress, she was planting a loving kiss on Spencer’s cheek while he grinned at the camera.

“Of course it’s us,” She looked down as if she had a reason to be embarrassed, “I know it’s cheesy but, I just… I don’t know. I love you. Like, a lot.”

He was for once, speechless.

He suddenly felt like the young, timid, and perpetually awkward twelve year old version of himself with too-long hair and glasses a little too big for the bridge of his nose. Never, and he could not stress the never enough, had he thought that would find someone who cared and loved for him in such a pure, wholesome, unabashed way.

“I love you.” He quickly said. He had never been more sure of anything.

She cooed, obviously enamoured with the man before her. “I know you do, Spence.”

“No, I mean,” He took a shaky breath, “I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. Loving you and being loved by you has made me feel a form of happiness I never thought possible for a person like me. Before I experienced this, love, I thought it would be simple, black and white, but it’s so golden. You’re my golden.”

He’d lifted her hand to his mouth and gingerly placed a teary kiss on the back of her palm. He didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go.

He’d never let her go if she’d let him.

“Spence, honey,” She sniffled. Making her cry hadn’t been his intention, obviously, but he assumes that from her giddy smile and softened gaze that they were tears of happiness, of love, of all things good. “I’m golden?”

He only nodded, but that was all she needed.

“You’re my golden too, Spencer.”

[euaphora]

do u have any links where the guy is fingering her >_<

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[whoisspence]

[riickgrimes]

THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY (2022- ) STEVEN CONKLIN & TAYLOR JEWEL 2.04 - "Love Game"

[unseededtoast]

All I Know | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: Five years after leaving Spencer Reid, it seems that fate might have given you a second chance. Inspired by "Everything Has Changed" by Taylor Swift/Ed Sheeran

Part two of Glimpse of Us, but can be read standalone!

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

wc: 6.5k

a/n: Hi everyone! It's good to be back and I hope this lives up to your expectations. This one felt different from my usual style but I think it's different in a good way. And thank you once again for being patient, I appreciate each and every one of you

You're not sure what you did to deserve this opportunity, to be reunited with the love of your life, but you choose not to question it. All you know is that you're his, and he is yours, until the end of your days. 

And that is more than you could have ever wished for.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Nerves wake Spencer up far before his alarm even sounds. Anxiety over the "what ifs" of the day eat away at his mind, he hopes the day goes well. He hasn't had a first day at work in a long time, he had become accustomed to his life at the BAU. But his FBI days are in the rear view mirror now, a career-ending injury forced him to forge a new path in life.

And this new path he chose was becoming a professor. Sure, he had guest lectured before but he had never been a full blown professor. In preparation he reviewed his curriculum at least a hundred times to make sure it was perfect and rehearsed his first lecture.

While he should be happy and excited for a new start, he can't help but feel that it's all too bittersweet for his taste.

It had been five years since you left him. You walked out because you became unable to deal with his bustling lifestyle, and he understood. But now, here he is, forced to slow down and without you by his side. Spencer had effectively lost the two most important things in his life.

His alarm finally sounds and knocks Spencer out of his thoughts, and quickly gets ready for his first day of teaching.

- - - - -

Your pen glides across the paper in front of you quickly as you glance at the clock to see how much time you have left. Five minutes. You can do this.

After you quickly scribble your name on the card, you slide it in the envelope and rush out of your office with the card and laptop in hand. Students and faculty alike scatter through the halls, eager for the first day of classes.

You find the office you're looking for and slide the envelope under the closed door. Hopefully the new professor hadn't been in yet, you hope the card will be a nice surprise for them.

Two weeks ago at the faculty meeting it was announced a new professor was hired in your department. They wouldn't divulge a name, but you didn't think it mattered much, everyone likes a greeting card. And you hope it'll make the new professor feel right at home.

After dropping the card off you make your way to the lecture hall, excited to meet the new faces of students for the semester. Though this is only your third semester of teaching, it feels like you've been doing this a lifetime and it doesn't even feel like a job most times. You think you finally found your calling in life, and it's the first time you felt real happiness in years.

Once your lecture is over, you make your way to the break room for a much needed cup of coffee. As you sit down at one of the tables your coworker-turned-friend Jamie walks in with a smile on her face. Her first day must be going well.

"It's good to see you." You stand to hug her.

"I have a feeling this is going to be the best semester yet." Her smile is wide and bright, her enthusiasm starts rubbing off on you.

"Why's that?" You ask, sipping on your coffee as you sit back down. Jamie takes the seat across from you and leans close.

"You know the new professor they hired?" Her voice lowers so that people can't eavesdrop.

"I know they hired one but I have no idea who." You tell her the truth.

"Well whoever does the hiring around here deserves a raise. He's hot. And I mean like, hot hot." Her words pique your interest, and suddenly you wish you had stuck around to meet the man in person.

"Hmm maybe we'll have to make a habit of walking by his office." Your own smile breaks out across your face.

"Perhaps we will." The two of you laugh together and you think Jamie might just be right, this might be the best semester yet.

- - - - -

The second day of the semester went well, as did the next, and the one after that. Your students all seem to be excited for the course content, except a few, and you're excited to see the projects they come up with. 

With a smile on your face from a successful lecture full of intellectual conversation, you retire to the break room for a little bit, before your next lecture. The air outside is getting quite cold and so you settle for a warm tea today.

However, your peace doesn't last long as Jamie walks in minutes later. She takes a seat across from you and sets her laptop down on the table.

"What do you have there?" She asks, gesturing to your cup. You look down at the tea that still has steam rising from it.

"Oh, just some tea." You answer and venture to take a sip that burns your tongue.

"It's a good day for it too." She says as she rises from her seat to grab a cup as well.

When she returns the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. Jamie works on her notes while you enjoy the peace. You don't even look to see who entered the room when the door opens.

But, Jamie's not-so-subtle kick under the table gives you a clue as to who it might be. She's been pestering you all week about finding the new professor, and you're willing to bet he just walked in.

Casually, you look over and see a tall, slim man pouring a cup of coffee. His hair is long, down to his shoulders, and you watch as he pours sugar into the cup; an ungodly amount of sugar. Your stomach twists nervously as the man's silhouette and coffee order seems all too familiar. 

Unable to tear your gaze away, you watch as the man finally turns around and meets your eyes. And it's like the world has stopped spinning, your heart has stopped pumping, and you can no longer remember how to breathe.

Spencer Reid is standing ten feet away from you.

His forest-colored eyes are just as beautiful as you remember. Gold tones still as soft as honey, green hues reminiscent of fresh spring grass. And it catapults you to the first moment you met him.

It was a nice, sunny day and you had decided to go to the park to finish your book. You had been inside for far too long and it would have been a waste to not enjoy such a lovely day. And to take full advantage of it you wore your favorite sundress.

You had picked a spot on a bench that was partially shaded from the sun and you enjoyed the sounds of nature as you turned each page. That was until someone stood in front of you and blocked your light. You closed the cover of your book and looked up to the handsome man in front of you.

"Hi, I'm Spencer and I um, I just thought I'd come and introduce myself." You hear the nerves in his voice and see them in the way he scratches as the back of his neck.

"Hi Spencer, it's nice to meet you." You smiled up at him.

You had always thought it was endearing how nervous he was to make a good impression and you've never been able to forget the fullness your heart felt that day. But then your mind plays a cruel joke, and suddenly your head is filled with the moment you left him.

No matter how hard you try to forget, you will always remember the tears running down his cheeks and the way his voice cracked as he begged you to stay. It took every ounce of strength you had to follow through with your plan.

Every now and then you think long and hard about if you had made the right decision. You still hold a deep love for Spencer, but with the lifestyle he was living and the future you wanted, eventually the two of you would have drove each other to madness one way or another. It was in the best interest of both of you to separate, or at least that's what you had convinced yourself of.

Jamie clears her throat and you're swiftly brought back to reality. She looks between them two of you, both frozen in place like statues. Now that you look at him, really look, you see how much he's changed and how much he's stayed the same.

His hair is longer, he's filled out just slightly more, his fashion sense is relatively the same and he still has kind eyes. He's still your Spencer, the one you left all those years ago.

"I can't, I have to, I have to go." You clumsily stand from your spot and rush out of the door.

Your chest begins feeling heavy and tight, your palms sweat and your heart races. Getting to your office is your only priority. Shaking fingertips grasp the edge of the solid wood desk, your eyes squeeze shut and all you can hear is your thumping heartbeat. 

"Hey, are you okay?" Jamie's voice sounds muffled to you, and you pay her no mind. Your only focus right now is to breathe again. 

Minutes could've passed by, or even hours, before you finally feel your senses coming back to you. Your muscles ache from the tension, and you open your eyes to find Jamie standing right next to you, her hand resting on your shoulder. Blinking a few times, you try to remain calm as the nerves tangle your inside. 

"Hey." Jamie speaks softly. Glancing at the clock on the wall behind her, only five minutes passed. 

"Sorry about that." You stand up straight and try to regain your normal composure. 

"What happened?" There isn't a trace of judgment to be found in her voice, just concern and curiosity. With a sigh, you sit on the edge of your desk and cross your arms, unable to meet her gaze. 

"That was Spencer." You plainly tell her, knowing she will understand. 

Over the course of the past year, you and Jamie had grown quite close. The two of you swapped stories of your pasts; you know about her exes and she knows of yours. At first, you had worried she might judge you for breaking off an engagement over a man you willingly left, but instead of judgment, she met you with understanding. And you were ever so grateful for that. 

"Oh." Her tone is heavy, and all you can do is nod your head.

How are you supposed to continue working here when he shares the same halls? And had he known that you were here? Surely he recognized your name on the card. He had to have known. And yet he never sought you out once. Your mind wrestles with why that may be. Perhaps he didn't want to see you after you broke his heart, maybe he had looked for you but you were out of office. A million different scenarios fill your mind at once.

- - - - -

A week passes without seeing Spencer again. Physically, of course, but you saw him plenty in your dreams. You had been free from dreaming of Spencer Reid for about seven months now, until a week ago and now he's all you can dream about. 

While you sleep you're met with different scenes, each of them about how your life might've looked like if you had stayed. Some scenes are sweet and tranquil, while others are full of fighting and misery. And you aren't sure which ones are worse. 

One night you had felt particularly curious and you found yourself looking at his Instagram again. You navigated to the pictures he's been tagged in and noticed all the ones you had seen previously are no longer posted. A quick trip to the woman's profile shows that she is with a new man now, and there's no trace of Spencer left on her account. From the looks of it, Spencer never got into another relationship after her. 

A part of you is relieved he hasn't moved on. For if he moved on a second time, it would have solidified to you that he truly has moved on. After all, you were never able to move on after you broke off the engagement with your last boyfriend. 

Getting back together with Spencer never seemed like a viable option until now. Now he no longer lives on the fly, there's no risk of him getting called away for weeks on end. No, his schedule is normal now, a solid, unchanging schedule, one that allows for personal time. This idea had been blossoming in your mind for a few days now, after you had been able to process that he works at the same university. 

Now, even while you're awake you daydream about being back together with him. In your mind, he's able to be home every evening now, he's able to be there for holidays and birthdays. There would be no more occasions spent alone. The thought of that warms your heart, but it's always quickly refuted by a tiny voice in the back of your mind. Why would he want you back after all? You had walked out on him and broke his heart, there's no reason why he would desire to have you back.

And so you live partially in sadness and partially in happiness, feelings changing on a whim depending on which thought intrudes into the forefront of your mind. You can tell others are noticing how you've withdrawn, but thankfully they haven't said anything yet. Even Jamie has been giving you more space than normal. You feel bad for distancing yourself, and promise yourself that you will try harder to get back to normal. 

Normalcy is what you're hoping for tonight. It's the university's annual holiday dinner, hosted at a local five star hotel and catered by a Michelin star restaurant, you wouldn't miss it for anything. Jamie had texted you earlier asking if you wanted to carpool and when you check your phone you see that you only have fifteen minutes left before she's going to be here. 

The dress code is black tie formal, and you enjoy getting dressed up, you don't get to do it often. For tonight you had decided on something simple, yet elegant. The floor length dress hugs your body just right, and the heels sparkle tastefully with every step you take. Finalizing your look, you put on a pair of earrings that catches the light beautifully. Before you go to wait for Jamie, you take a moment to look at yourself in the mirror. And for the first time in a long time, you feel content with how you look, excited for the night to come. 

"There are more people here than there were last year." You say to Jamie as you two wait to be seated. There's easily double the amount of people here, word must have got out about how good the food is. 

"Tell me about it." She looks around at the other faculty members who are also dressed to the nines. 

"Ladies, if you are willing, we have a group table that is ready to be sat." A posh waiter interrupts your conversation politely. Jamie and you look to each other and shrug. 

"That's fine with me." You confirm, and Jamie nods her head. The waiter smiles, 

"Right this way." He leads you through the hotel's reception room, lights dim with a string quartet playing in the background. As you pass by the musicians, you can't help but wonder how much money the university allocates to this night, and if it could perhaps be better spent. But that thought doesn't last long once the fresh bread basket is placed in front of you. 

"So good." Jamie says through mouthfuls of warm, toasted bread. All you can do is nod in agreement, enjoying how the butter and bread compliment each other well. 

Other faculty members begin being sat at the table with you, and you greet them all though you haven't a clue who they are. Everyone at the table gets swept away in their own conversations, so much so that you don't even realize who they had sat right next to Jamie, and you probably wouldn't have noticed for a while if Jamie's body language didn't give away that something was wrong. 

Your eyebrows crease at the sudden tension in her shoulders, the tightening of her jaw. Her eyes grow wider just slightly, as if she's trying to communicate something telepathically. Your eyes sweep to the right and find nothing out of the ordinary, but once they move to the left you realize that what was supposed to be a good night, might end up being a terrible one after all. Of course the universe would have fated that Spencer get sat at this table as well. 

You avert your gaze from him quickly, feeling your face flush red. If it wouldn't be considered rude, you would get up from this table right now and go back home. But you know Jamie has been looking forward to this dinner all year and you don't want to let her down because of your personal problems. If you just keep your focus on Jamie, maybe tonight will be more bearable. 

Keeping your eyes off of Spencer is easier said than done you come to find. As if it's a habit, you find yourself stealing glances at him. He's decided on a nicely tailored suit for tonight, and the warm lighting compliments the golden hues in his eyes. And it's because he looks so good that you can only half pay attention to the words coming out of Jamie's mouth for the rest of the night. 

The table's food arrives and your one glass of wine turns to two, which turns into three. Jamie has had more than you, and has used her newfound confidence to go mingle with the other faculty in the open part of the room. Typically, after the dinner, the floor opens for dancing and socialization, neither of which you feel like doing now. Slowly, but surely, the others at the table leave to go mingle as well, leaving only you and Spencer at the table together. With this realization, you finish off your third glass of the night and wonder where to get your fourth. 

Just as you're about to get up and track a waiter down, you hear Spencer clear his throat. Like a deer caught in headlights, you look at him with wide eyes. He's already looking at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Something makes you sit back down though you know you should be running the other way. Seconds tick by like hours, you watch with intent eyes how he licks his lips, a nervous habit he's always had. And finally, he breaks the silence. 

"Hello."

- - - - - 

Spencer had never been one for fancy outings, especially outside of work hours, but tonight he is happy to make an exception. Ever since he saw you in the break room you're all that he can think about; more so than usual. 

Over the years he had kept light tabs on you, asking Penelope every few months how you were doing and if you were still in the area. All she ever said was that you're doing well and you're still around. And that was enough for Spencer, he could live with that vagueness. Until he set eyes on you again. Now, you consume his thoughts every second of every day. 

He had never stopped missing you, loving you. No, he still searched for things that reminded him of you. The blankets you had picked out all those years ago are still draped over his couch. And now there's a shred of hope blossoming within him that his apartment may be your shared space once more. 

The only issue is that he's not even sure you want him back. He doesn't know if you're seeing somebody else, or if you even want a relationship at all; especially with him. After all, you had left for good reason so why would you want to come back?

The pessimism and optimism wrestle in his mind as he finishes tying his tie in the mirror. Spencer hadn't been working at the university long enough to have any real acquaintances or friends, and usually that would stress him out. But tonight, all he's focused on is you. 

He wants to see who you show up with and get a gauge of your feelings towards him. Spencer is still fairly confident he can read your body language. And he promises to himself that if you show up with a man, or act disinterested, that he will leave you alone and look for another job. After all, you were there first and he doesn't want you to feel suffocated in your place of work. Plus, he knows he wouldn't be able to share the halls with you without speaking to you. The wound would never heal, but then again, he's had five years to heal it yet it remains open.

Spencer hands the valet his car keys as he walks inside the high-end dinner. The lights are moody and it feels like something straight out of a movie. He joins the line to be seated, and there he spots you for the first time, looking around and talking to Jamie. 

On his first day Jamie had found her way to his office to introduce herself. She taught in the humanities department and was friendly enough, Spencer liked her, he thought she may prove to be a helpful friend to have around. His nerves were still at an all time high as she explained who had offices in this hall as well, and his interest piqued when she mentioned your name. He contained his surprise and thanked Jamie for coming by. Once he opened the card that was left on the floor of his office, it was glaringly obvious you had no idea he was the new guy, for you had signed the card,

"We're so glad to have you here, can't wait to meet you! Welcome to the team!" Followed by your signature. He would recognize that signature anywhere. He remembers seeing it scrawled across sticky notes you used to leave in his bag, ones he would find while he was out working a case. He always looked forward to finding those notes, it was like having a piece of you there with him. And if he's honest, they still reside in an interior pocket of his bag, he could never find the resolve to get rid of them. 

He watches as you and Jamie get seated, and he feels nerves creep up his spine. What if this all ends badly? He doesn't want you to run out of the even like you did the break room, no, that was the last thing he wanted to happen. All he wants is to gauge your reaction when you notice him, that's all. That will be enough for him to make his decision.

After a few long minutes had passed, he was finally being seated. While he followed the host he scanned the room for you but failed to see you amongst the sea of people. Surely you were here somewhere. Thanking the host as he took his seat, he took a deep breath and became acquainted with his surroundings. This was a large group table, there are likely others to be seated around him, so maybe he will make some new friends after all. 

He's just about to open the menu when he catches the glimmer of jewelry out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, he sees that it's you sitting just across from him. He's been sat beside Jamie, and he can tell from their stiff posture that they've both noticed him. 

Averting his gaze quickly, he tries to think of how to handle the situation but comes up with no good answers. So he settles on just trying to make it through the dinner and to get a decent read of your body language without you noticing him looking at you. 

All of which is easier said than done. Every time he goes to sneak a glance at you, it seems that your eyes are already on him. He doesn't miss the way your drinking increases or how you fidget with the necklace resting on your chest. 

The night passes unbearably slowly until it seems like it's coming to an abrupt end. Jamie leaves the table to talk to other friends, leaving just you and Spencer alone at the table. Unable to keep his eyes off of you any longer, he glances over and sees you finish off your third glass of wine for the night. And judging by the way your eyes dance across the people in the room, you're on the hunt for another, likely because his presence has unnerved you. 

You go to stand from your seat when something inexplicable happens. Before Spencer can comprehend why he's doing this, the word just tumbles out of his mouth, just a simple, 

"Hello."

The word seems to have made you sit back down, and he quickly assess that as being receptive to what he has to say. You clear your throat, buying yourself some time before answering. 

"Hi." Your voice is airy and like music to Spencer's ears. How he's missed hearing your voice. 

The shred of hope within him grows, and he only hopes this conversation goes well.

- - - - - 

The two of you are unable to break each other's gaze. Your eyes stare into his with intensity and your heart pounds in your chest. For a second you're worried you might have a heart attack because of the quick pace.

"You look lovely tonight." Spencer tells you, a ghost of a smile teasing the edge of his lips. You glance down at your dress.

"Thank you, you clean up pretty well too." You tell him the truth.

You're not sure where this is going to go, you feel as if you're treading in dangerous waters and you're not sure if you're going to be rescued or swallowed up. Spencer glances down at the tablecloth and smiles softly. 

"Thank you." He says, looking back up into your eyes. 

The two of you fall into a silence and you're not quite sure what to do from here. There's so much that's left unsaid but you don't know if you have the nerve to say any of it. But after a few minutes pass without anything, you rise from the table, unable to be so close yet so far from him. 

"Goodnight, I hope you enjoy the rest of the dinner." You keep your exit friendly and turn to go stand on the curb and wait for an Uber. You don't want to end Jamie's fun, you'll just send her a text that you caught a ride home. 

The night air is chilly and it sends a shiver up your spine so you wrap your arms around yourself. You unlock your phone and are just about to request a ride when you hear footsteps coming from behind. Looking to your right you see Spencer, lips parted and eyes scanning your face. 

"I can take you home, if you want of course. I drove here and it wouldn't be a problem at all. I was probably going to head out soon anyways." His words are rushed and slightly jumbled, but send butterflies straight to your stomach. 

"That would be nice." You accept his offer, feeling the familiar tingle of nerves engulfing your body. He nods and smiles before offering you his arm to take. 

Hesitantly, you reach out and loop your arm with his. He's warm and oh so familiar. The two of you walk in stride together, and you take a shaky breath to keep your emotions in check. A gentle breeze carries the scent of his cologne into your nose and it transports you back to a time you reminisce about frequently. 

You look up at Spencer as you walk, noticing how much more grown up he looks now. Stubble lines his jaw more noticeably, his arms feel sturdier, the smile lines by his eyes more prominent, but still the most beautiful man you've ever laid eyes on. 

Feeling your gaze on him, he looks down at you and smiles kindly. Your eyes burn and you look forward, seeing his car only a few rows back. It almost doesn't feel real. 

Spencer opens the door for you and you sit in the passenger seat. Before he gets in, you pinch your leg harshly, reminding yourself that this is very much real and is actually happening. Suddenly your palms feel sweaty and your throat feels tighter. The sound of Spencer closing his door snaps you out of it. 

Without asking for directions, Spencer drives off into the night. The streetlights offer a warm glow as he passes street after street. You pick at the edges of your nails as he drives, not feeling confident enough to say anything, you honestly don't even know what to say. And you're so distracted you don't even realize where he's taken you until he turns the car off. Looking out the window, you see his apartment building.

"If you want, I'd like for you to come inside for a little bit. If not, just tell me where you want me to take you." His voice wavers with nerves. The car is dark, but you're close enough to see him. Nodding your head, you reach for the doorhandle. 

"I can come in." Your voice is like a whisper.

You follow Spencer up the stairs to his apartment, and you take it all in. You never thought you'd see this place again. Stepping inside, you see that not a lot has changed. There are some new pictures on the walls and there's an entirely new bookcase in the living room, but it's almost just as you left it. A moment frozen in time. 

Spencer drops his keys on the counter and hangs his coat on the rack beside the door. You take a deep breath as you realize the last time you two were here together, he was pleading with you not to leave. 

"Would you like any water?" He asks and you shake your head, 

"No, I'm okay, thank you though." You decline and watch as he loosens the tie around his neck. 

"I didn't know you pursued teaching." He ignites the conversation again and tries to make it all seem more casual by rearranging things that clutter the dining table. 

"Yeah, I started about a year ago." 

"Do you like it?" He asks, pausing his rearranging to give you his undivided attention. 

"I do. Well, so far at least. Each semester its like the courses become richer with content and I just love seeing the passion some of them have. It's inspiring. Why'd you start teaching?" You open up a little in an attempt to shake the tension that hangs in the air between you. Spencer chews on his lip before answering.

"We were working a case and I got shot in the knee, and it ruptured some tendons. And my choices were to either work strictly behind a desk or pursue something else." At the mention of him being shot, you eyes widen and your jaw falls slack. 

"You got shot?" An all too familiar feeling of anxiety shoots through you and you remember how many nights you stayed awake contemplating that very thing happening.

"I did, but as you can see it wasn't fatal." He cracks a small smile, but all you can think of is how easily he could've been taken from this world. 

"Well I'm glad it wasn't." You truthfully tell him. A life without Spencer in it is quite miserable, but living in a world without Spencer would be like swimming in a lake of fire; torturous and inconceivable. 

"Me too. But it forced me to put things into perspective, to slow down and enjoy what life has to offer." You're not sure if his choice of words is intentional, or what exactly he means by telling you this. But there's a small, optimistic part of you that can only imagine why he's saying these things. 

"I'm sure it's not an easy adjustment." You elect to skirt around the question you want to ask, not knowing if you're just being foolishly hopeful or not. Spencer nods and motions to the living room, 

"Would you like to sit down?" He asks, looking down at the heels you're wearing. 

"That would be nice." You say and sit down on the leather couch, where you always used to sit. It almost feels like the couch remembers you. And your eyes catch the blanket draped over the back, you remember it well as you have the other one still. 

Spencer sits next to you, the two of you close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. It takes everything within you to not just lean into him and act like nothing ever happened. You miss him so much, you miss his touch, you miss his kisses, you miss his love. 

"How have you been?" The question feels out of place, but you're not exactly sure of what would feel right. Meeting his eyes again, you tell him the truth. 

"There have been a lot of ups and downs. Long story short I pursued a new career, as you've found out, moved two different times, visited Europe, and then I was engaged but broke it off." Your voice dies at the end, still feeling guilty over breaking yet another heart with the failed engagement. 

"Engaged?" Spencer's voice is tight and filled with worry. 

"I was, but I couldn't follow through with it." You tell him. Though you're not sure why you're spilling everything, but it just feels like the right thing to do. 

"Why not?" He asks, his eyes dancing between your eyes, your hands, and your lips. You shrug, 

"He just wasn't the right one. But how have you been?" You ask, already knowing about one girlfriend he had. Spencer's eyebrows raise,

"Well, I stayed with the FBI up until just recently, I made some friends and lost some, and I had a girlfriend, but that didn't end well either." He says though you're sure he's summarizing dramatically, as you had also done.

"Oh. Well I'm sorry about the FBI and about your, your girlfriend." The word is almost impossible for you to say, but you force yourself to. 

"Don't be sorry. I guess she just wasn't the right one." He whispers as his eyes finally land on your again. 

Your lips fall slack and you can't help but look between his eyes and lips, remembering what they felt like over every square inch of your body. And it's as if Spencer has his own gravitational pull, but you find yourself leaning further and further towards him until his hand lands on top of yours. 

His larger hand completely engulfs yours, and you look down to see him holding your hand with such gentleness. The feeling of his skin on yours is almost enough to bring you to tears. Five years you had spent trying to remember what he felt like, yearning to have him in front of you, to be able to see him, hear him, smell him, have him again. 

By the time you look back up from your hands, his other had already come up to your face to cradle your jaw. Your lips meet his tenderly, softly, as if you were both afraid the other would jump away. 

But instead, it's like you melt into each other. With your free hand, you grip the front of his shirt and pull him closer. Your lips fall into a long forgotten rhythm as if no time had passed. His lips as soft against yours and you feel his hand let go of your own and wrap around your waist. Pressed against one another, you wish this moment would never end. 

Your lungs burn for oxygen, so you pull away from Spencer's kiss and rest your forehead against his. You keep hold of him, afraid that if you let go that you'll wake up from some kind of cruel dream. With closed eyes, you take it all in, it's so much more than you could've ever dreamed of. 

"I've missed you every day for the last five years. And I am so sorry that I drove you away." Spencer's voice wavers. Leaning away from him, you hold his head in your hands, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. There are tears in his waterline, and the tremble in his lower lip makes your own eyes water. 

"Spencer, oh Spencer." You say as tears fall from your eyes and down your cheeks. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to him. You rest your head against his shoulder and the two of you cling to each other as you cry. 

"I have spent every single day missing you and loving you. And I'm sorry I walked away." You say as another round of tears fall down your face, landing on his shirt. Instead of answering, he just holds you tighter, and whatever you don't express in words is made clear in the way you two meld together. 

"I love you so much." He eventually says, letting you adjust in his grasp. 

"I love you, Spencer Reid." You tell him, knowing that it's the full and honest truth. 

You're not sure what you did to deserve this opportunity, to be reunited with the love of your life, but you choose not to question it. Instead, you kiss him again and know that this time you're not going to let him go. All you know is that you're his, and he is yours, until the end of your days. 

And that is more than you could have ever wished for.

- - - - - 

Three months after being reunited, you and Spencer had fallen into a comfortable routine. You had moved back in after the two of you had a long discussion about what the future of your relationship means to the two of you. Both of you agreed that nothing on this planet was worth jeopardizing the relationship, not after the most agonizing five years without each other. 

You're beyond happy that you finally get to come home with him every day, that he's able to be here for holidays and everything in between. The two of you do your best to make up for lost time, you relish every moment you get with him, no matter how small or insignificant that time may be. 

Everything had changed in the five years that you spent apart, and you both had grown up in several ways. Not drastically, but enough that you needed to get to know one another again. Date nights are spent talking about newfound interests and what has remained the same. Nothing feels strained or forced anymore, it's all tranquil and full of love. 

One night, after you had gone to bed early, Spencer finds himself sitting at the dining table with a velvet box in his hands. He opens it and looks over the ring he had bought over five years ago. And now he knows that it will finally reside on the hand it was meant for. With a smile on his lips, he slides the box into his suit pocket for the date he planned for tomorrow. 

[arkhamknightz]

CLOSURE

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary; in which, spencer tries to fix his mistakes

warnings: angst, happy ending, fluff, as you can tell by both titles inspired by taylor’s evermore album!

notes: part 2 to tolerate it ! i’m really glad people actually enjoyed tolerate it, for anyone who asked for a part 2 or hoped for one this is for you! :) with help from @adhdannieedison !

A month had passed since that fight with Spencer. The letters had started a week and a half ago. First it started off with flowers at your door, a small note attached. “I’m sorry. I still think about you everyday.” You had been rotating through the clothes you had brought in your suitcase, as well as buying new ones.

You couldn’t go back to that apartment. You were staying with a friend, how Spencer got the address isn’t very surprising (thanks to Penelope) but he had started sending letters along with small gifts to the door every other day.

You regretted the fight with Spencer, well, regret isn’t the right word. You meant everything you said, although it wasn’t a secret your frustration got the best of you. Could you have dealt with that better? Yes, absolutely. But his handwriting of each letter of his name only brought an ache to your chest.

It wasn’t right, the way it all went down. He knows that, you know that. You could sense the hesitation in the letters you had received. You could practically feel the nerves radiating off the page, intertwined with the ink.

You were doing better, although you couldn’t bring yourself to write back. You’re sure he knew you were receiving the gifts. Otherwise he would’ve stopped sending them. It cut deep to know him as well as you did. With each letter on the page you could vision him writing them.

He would be sat at his desk at home, knowing he couldn’t bring himself to write them at work. If you inspected the page close enough, you could see very faint droplets. You knew Spencer well enough that he would try his best not to ruin the page, although it seemed like some days he never noticed they were there. His tears somewhat marked on the page.

You knew it was probably over. Maybe it was anger, maybe it was sadness masked as such. But you didn’t need his closure. You didn’t need to know what was running through his head the days he started ignoring you out of fear of what it could’ve been.

The way he looked at you that night, the way he spoke when he told you to stop talking. He spoke like you were some situation that needed to be handled. The way you imagined he would speak at work. You were fine with the spite bubbling in your chest. You were perfectly fine for the first week in the spare room, candles lit as tears rolled down your face with a drink in your hand.

Every time you closed your eyes you could feel his presence. You could feel the longing of his hand on your shoulder, soft kisses on your forehead and whispers of reassurance. It hurt to know him the way you did. It hurt knowing he threw something away so easily after building it for years.

You heard a knock on the door, your friend was out at work and you were sat on the couch filling out a form for work. Knowing what it was, you got up off the couch, setting your computer aside and walked over. You opened the door and there on the mat sat another envelope addressed to you, a small box from your favorite bakery sat under it.

You sighed and picked it up before closing the door and locking it, sitting back down before setting both of them on your lap. You looked into the box and softly smiled, your favorite dessert carefully placed into the box. You opened up the letter and pulled out the paper.

“I know I messed up. I can’t express that enough. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry its taken me so long to properly address it. If i’m being quite honest I don’t know why I did the things I did. More of the matter why I stopped doing certain things. All I know is I miss the way you curled up into me in our shared bed. I haven’t been able to sleep there in the last month. I’m afraid if I sleep in our bed the scent of you would fade away.

I’m sorry for throwing what we had away so easily. I don’t know what caused me to act the way I did, or what caused me to lash out at you when you were only frustrated for all the right reasons. The team was right. It was never about work, but it also wasn’t about you. I can’t pinpoint what caused my behavior but all I know is I’m sorry. And I’ll spend every moment I can trying to show you that I mean that.

This might be a push, but it doesn’t hurt to try. Please, come home soon. I want to work this through. I want to be better for you. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t when I still had you with me. If you do decide to come home one day by some miracle, I’ll be waiting. I’d wait forever if I had to. I really hope you’re doing okay. I’m sorry for the damage I caused, theres not a single day that goes by where I don’t regret what I must’ve put you through.

Yours always, Spencer. x”

You sighed and wiped away the tear that had fell from your eye. You set the letter back into the envelope and put it on the coffee table in front of you. You had gotten a majority of your work done since that night, emotions fueling you to write your papers and get as much work done as you could.

You started going on runs in the park, music playing through your ears as you circled around the area. You really were doing better, the flood of any pain and love you had pushing you to grow and rediscover yourself. You didn’t need his closure, you were just a wrinkle in his life. His guilt was probably what caused him to reach out, but you didn’t need some fake insincere apology from him.

He was apologizing for himself, so he wouldn’t have to live with that guilt. Right? If he really felt bad he would’ve reached out to you sooner. Right? You found yourself making excuses for him again, anger starting to creep its way into your stomach. You loved him, you knew he cared about you. But all you could do was formulate bad intentions in your head.

By the time you ran into Spencer, you were out with your friend at a bar 3 weeks later. You didn’t expect to see him there, nor his entire team. You locked eyes with him from across the room, a tightening ache in your heart as you saw the distinct bags under his eyes, drink in his hand. You knew Spencer wasn’t fond of drinking. Although he did it every so often, he barely ever let himself get as drunk as he looked.

It hurt that you could see his tired features from so far away. Guilt started to slowly rise in your chest before you turned around and downed your drink. “Woah slow down there. What’s up?” You looked over at your friend. “He’s here. With his entire team.” Her eyes widened and she turned around to look around the bar, low and behold there she saw Spencer sitting at a table with a group of people.

“Do not turn around he’s walking- okay well stumbling this way.” You shut your eyes tightly as you heard him call out your name. You looked over at your friend who smiled in sympathy and walked away to go get a new drink. Your breath hitched as he stopped on the other side of you. “Hey.”

You could hear the crack of his voice, you missed the way he spoke to you at night, both of you laying in bed while you whispered sweet nothings to each-other. You turned around and smiled sadly. “Hey Spence” you saw him tear up at the nickname and you quickly panicked. “Hey hey, don’t cry please don’t cry.” He sniffled. “I missed you. I’m so so sorry.” A tear rolled down his cheek, your facial expression now mirroring his.

You could feel any anger you had towards him bubble away as you pulled him into a hug, his body shook against yours as he settled his head into your neck. Cracks in his voice muffled by your hair as he spoke. “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. I fucked up so so badly. I’ve missed you so much I’m sorry I know you hate m-“ you quickly cut him off. “I’m still upset yes but I don’t hate you.”

You pulled away looking at him, his eyes red and puffy brimmed with tears. “I could never hate you.” You reached up to wipe away his tears, thumb brushing against his cheek which only made him cry harder. Normally, you probably would feel embarrassed, you were both crying in the middle of the bar, but all you could focus on was him.

“I’m gonna take you home okay? We can talk about this tomorrow. You need to sleep.” He nodded, knowing it would be pointless to argue. You looked over at his team, who all looked away quickly, their eyes darting around the room pretending they weren’t watching. You softly chuckled and made eye contact with Derek before mouthing you were gonna take him home.

He nodded and you locked hands with Spencer before letting your friend know you were taking him home. She nodded and told you to stay safe before you walked out. Spencer looked like a kicked puppy, eyes red with tears while he looked down, sniffles coming from him.

You waved down a taxi before getting him inside, sitting beside him. You gave them the address to your old apartment and you sat in silence. The only noise coming from the radio, the streets and his small sniffles. After being dropped off, you reached out and he gave you his keys, you opened the door and your heart broke at the state of the apartment. Books were thrown out onto the floor, the kitchen seemingly untouched, you took a look at the couch and saw a thin blanket sprawled out, pillow thrown onto the floor.

You sighed and looked at Spencer who was already looking at you, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry the place is a mess.” You let out a small laugh, wiping away his tears. “It’s okay. Let’s get you to bed yeah?” He nodded and walked through the apartment with you. You cleaned up while he got changed in your bedroom, putting away the books and folding up the blanket on the couch.

You grabbed his pillow and walked into your room. Spencer was staring at your side of the bed and you placed his pillow back in its spot and sat on the edge of the bed. He took the hint and sat right next to you. You looked down and picked at your nails, his hand grasping yours to stop you. “Don’t do that.” He held your hand and now you were the one crying.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, as if speaking any louder would break you. “I know.” You both sat in silence for a little, small sniffles echoing throughout the room. “You should get some sleep Spencer.” He nodded and you got up, allowing him to lay down. You walked into the closet and changed into comfier clothes before walking into the bathroom and washing your face.

You came back out and laid next to him. His arm wrapping around your waist like it used to. You missed the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, fitting like a missing puzzle piece. You were doing fine without him. But you knew what was missing. You knew you wouldn’t be able to live the rest of your life the same without him there. His arms felt like home, his kisses like rays of sunshine hitting your face, his hugs like being enveloped by a warm blanket.

You hadn’t been able to sleep well, missing the way you felt safe while you were asleep with him. Now whenever you slept you kept a small light on, but it hardly even came close to fulfilling the security you longed for. You smiled softly as he quickly fell asleep, his arms unconsciously starting to tighten around you.

The next morning you woke up before Spencer. You got up and walked into the kitchen to get him a glass of water and some painkillers. You knew he hated taking them, preferring to push through it. But after last night you knew he would need it. You heard quick shuffling and your bedroom door swing open, you turned around and he had tears in his eyes, before he finally settled on your figure left in the kitchen.

This only seemed to make it worse. He let out a choked sob as you looked at him. “Hope I’m not overstaying my welcome.” You joked, he cracked a smile and shook his head. “Never.” You handed him the cup of water and he drank it, taking the small pill reluctantly.

After a few minutes you both sat on the couch. You had been dreading this conversation since you saw him at the bar last night. “I know I’ve said sorry, but I want to prove that to you. I want to show you I mean it wholeheartedly. Pushing you away the way that I did was inexcusable. So I’m not gonna try to come up with one. But I know it’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life. And I know you deserve better than someone who could do something like that to you.”

You nodded. “I know I deserved better.” His eyes looked into his lap, his hands fiddling with each-other. “But I didn’t want better. I wanted you Spencer. I knew the difficulty of your job, I knew the relationship wouldn’t be perfect all the time. That I was perfectly okay with. What I didn’t appreciate was you pushing me away, the comments you had started making at me, the way you told me to stop talking when I was angry like I had no right to be.”

He nodded in understanding as you continued, “I’ve never loved someone the way I love you Spencer. So it hurt when you pushed me away and made no effort to show you cared in the slightest. I was trying my best and it seemed like it wasn’t enough for you. So I walked away because I knew I wasn’t gonna let myself go through that.” He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry, I know saying that over and over doesn’t do anything if I don’t prove myself that I mean it. I want to be better this time. And I know that’s gonna take a lot and that’s something I’m more than willing to do. If I have to wait a year for you to fully forgive me I will in a heartbeat. Please. Just let me show you I’ve changed? That I want this to work?”

You nodded and he smiled softly before silently asking to hug you. You pulled him in and you sat in his arms, basking in the warmth and the way he pulled you closer to his chest if that was even humanly possible. You were doing fine without him. But you knew you would never be complete with him beside you.

note: HI i hope this ending is satisfying for everyone. i know i seemingly rushed through this but ideas were flowing! my requests are open for anyone who wants to send in some things, i mostly write song fics, since i find them easiest and can produce them the quickest. but im open to all requests! i have a list of people i write for in my pinned, so please don’t be afraid to send something in! :)

tag list; @sebastiansstanswhore @deadunicorn159 @adhdannieedison

[plutoispurplw]

Guilty As Sin?

Summary: You are new at the bau and you finally meet Spencer, you fall for him but he started to avoid you.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: Smut, little angst, legal age gap of ten years (35 & 27), happy ending.

A/N: Hi everyone, guess who is back! This is inspired by Guilty as Sin by my favorite blonde. Stream The Tortured Poets Department.

Masterlistᝰ.ᐟ

When you began to work at the BAU, Penelope had told you that one of the members of the team was in prison, she said that he was innocent. 

Months later, when he was out of jail you finally met him, you were mesmerized by him, he looked like something out of your wildest dreams. 

You notice the dark circles under his eyes and how he looked tired but still, you were under a spell by him. 

"Hello, nice to meet you, Dr.Reid, my name is Y/N" You acted like looking at his eyes was nothing while you felt how your heart was beating like crazy. 

If he noticed it he didn't make an effort to say something about it. "Nice to meet you too and you don't have to call me doctor" He gave you an awkward smile, and that was instantly engraved in your brain. 

Even if you were attracted to him, that didn't mean that the age gap between you two was comfortable, it was weird to try to have a conversation with him, there wasn't any type of conversation themes to have. 

But as time went by, the age gap seemed to be less uncomfortable, you began to open up a little more to him and vice versa, the conversations you both started to have were nice, and you liked to listen to his ramblings. 

After some more time, you two started to go to a café in your free time to talk, when you talked about something that you liked he gave you his attention, and he didn't make you feel weird. 

Then it started the glances, the quick brushes against each other. The tension was growing like crazy, but only happened when you two were alone. 

Something magnetic was pulling you towards him, maybe was destiny or chemistry but it didn't matter, because you couldn't escape from that feeling. 

When you touched yourself, you would fantasize about him, but how could you be guilty if he hadn't touched you yet? 

Only in your mind, his name was written on your inner upper thigh. 

And finally, the tension just broke one night. 

After solving a case and being back home, the team went to a bar to relax after those stressful days. You were tired and you asked Spencer to take you home, and he accepted. 

When you were at the entrance of the apartment and were about to say goodbye, you felt how his gaze was fixed on your lips, you couldn't stop looking at him like a lovesick teenager at that moment. 

Then it snapped, he stole you a kiss, and you reciprocated it, you felt the passion and desperation that he put on the kiss, your whole body burning because of the need for his touch. 

The kiss didn't last too long because then he pulled away, and regret was written on his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." Before you could say something he was gone, you just lay on the bed until you fell asleep with thoughts running through your mind. 

After that, he started to avoid you if it wasn't important like you were some kind of plague that could kill him. 

You started to think if you did something wrong but nothing came to your mind. 

You felt hurt and after a time you didn't try to make amends for something that you were sure you didn't break anymore, it was better if you were alone or that was what you tried to tell yourself. 

After some time, in a case. The team was staying in a hotel like always, you were in your room when you noticed that the air-conditioning wasn't working, you went to the lobby to ask for another room but they told you that there weren't any more rooms available 

It was summer and you knew that wouldn’t sleep with the heat. 

You decided to ask Spencer to share because his room was the closest one to you, that was what you tried to think, but deep inside you knew that the true reason was to just be close to him. 

You knocked on the door, and moments later she opened it, he was sleeping in sweatpants and a shirt. His went wide when he saw that it was you.

"Hi, Y/N" His voice sounded deep like have been sleeping before you knocked. The door. He looks at you in the eyes with shame and guilt. "What do you need?" 

"Sorry for waking you up but the air-conditioning doesn't work and there aren't more rooms available so I was wondering if you let me sleep here? Tomorrow I'm gonna ask for another room." 

"Okay, don't worry, I leave you the bed and I sleep on the floor so you can be comfortable." He sounded sincere and you felt how you were falling again for him. 

"We can share the bed, we just put a pillow between us, what do you think?" You look at him with puppy eyes so he can sleep on the bed and don't wake up in the morning with pain in the back.

He just gave you a nod and let you enter, you two started to accommodate the bed again so the two could be comfortable, and while doing that you started to speak again. "What happened that ni-" 

He interrupted you and didn't let you talk. "Let's just forget about that please, I'm tired and you're tired." His voice sounds annoyed by your words. 

You looked from the bed to his eyes. "Stop trying to avoid the theme like it's some kind of explosive, please let's just talk." Your voice sounded like you were begging and maybe you were but you just needed to know why he avoided you like the plague. 

At that moment something snapped inside of him. "I don't want to fucking talk about that Y/N" His voice was louder and now he sound angry at you. 

In other circumstances, you would stay quiet but you were tired from all of this, you didn't want to see him every morning in the office knowing that he didn't want to have any interaction with you like before that night. 

Now you were the one yelling, all the pent-up anger spilled on your words. "Well I need to know why you have been avoiding me like I'm some kind of fucking bad drug for you, I prefer to spend all night awake uncomfortable than being here." You immediately felt guilty of saying something like that to him knowing his past but you didn't say anything and started to walk towards the door. 

Then to your surprise, he stopped you in your tracks grabbed you by the wrist, pulled you towards him, and started to speak. "You know why I been avoiding you? Because if I let you get more closer I won't be able to stop." 

His eyes fixed on yours like they were some kind of gems. "I want to make you mine, I want to consume all of you, you're a drug for me that I know if I taste it's gonna be the death of me." 

He stepped back and stopped grabbing your wrist. "But it wouldn’t be fair, I have more experience than you, your frontal lobe got fully developed two years ago and mine almost a decade ago." 

Before he continued talking you were the one interrupting him this time, you got closer to him. "I want you to be the one to ruin me, I have been thinking of you since I met you, it feels like I'm under a spell that makes me need you, I need to wake every morning next to you." 

In seconds you were kissing each other like it was your last moment on earth, the kiss was filled with desperation and pent-up passion from months accumulated. 

His hands were everywhere making you moan against his neck while you kissed him. 

He pulled away from you and sat on the edge of the bed, his hands pulled towards him making you fall on his lap. 

Your lips against his jaw and neck, his hands started to descend towards your hips carefully and slowly to not startle you like you were some kind of animal. 

Then he started to talk again and you didn't have more patience left. "Are you sure you want this? We could stop if you-" You stopped him before he continued talking. 

"I wanna do it, Spencer, I'm sure" He stopped in his tracks and then his lips were against yours again in a passionate and intense kiss. 

He continued to descend his hands until they were on the waistband of your shorts, he looked you in the eyes, and you just gave a little nod to let him know that was okay to do it. 

He started to pull it down in a slow motion to make you more desperate,  now he could see your lacy underwear. You didn't know if it was worse for him than for you to wait. 

You stood up and took the shorts off completely, then you took your T-shirt off too. His eyes laser-focused on your chest when he realized that you weren't wearing a bra or anything. 

You blushed at his indiscreet gaze and tried to cover yourself but he pulled you towards him again, you fell on his lap again, and his hands were quick to move from your hips towards your breasts. 

He just started to caress them playing with your nipples. "You look so beautiful like this." His kisses started from your neck to your chest, his mouth was on one while the other was being massaged by his other hand. 

After minutes like this, he switched giving attention to your neglected breast. You were just a mess already, letting out little moans and sighs. 

You felt how his hands were on your hips again, then he lay you down on the bed carefully like you were made of crystal. He raised from the bed and then he got on his knees getting a gasp of surprise from your lips. "You don't have to do that if you don't want to." 

"But I want to, I want to see if you can come just from my hands and mouth or if you're gonna need more." His words made you feel a chill run down your spine. 

His hands spread your legs open letting him see how the underwear was wet from your arousal. "Look at this, you were really desperate for my touch, didn't you?" You just gave him a nod in response. 

He took your underwear in seconds so that you were sure that he tear it apart but it didn't matter anymore, you were just focused on his breath against your cunt. 

He started to kiss your inner thighs while his middle finger and index finger entered you and started to move inside you. Moans started to escape from your lips. 

Then his mouth was on your clit making you were seeing stars, saying his name like a mantra, you felt the knot on your stomach starting to get tighter until it exploded and you scream his name, you felt how every wave of pleasure washed over your entire body. 

He got up from his position and you see how he started to to take off his sweatpants and his boxers, you help him take his shirt off. 

All the clothes were scattered on the floor. 

You lay down on the bed again spreading your legs open, he got between your legs, and you could feel his member brushing against your folds teasingly. 

"Please, Spencer, I need to feel you inside." Now you were sure you were begging him to be inside you, you needed it and he need it too. 

In a moment he pushed slowly inside you, and you felt him deep inside you. In his perspective, you were a complete mess, cheeks of a scarlet tone and moans escaping from your rosy lips. 

"You look so pretty, you feel so good, angel." His voice was an octave lower than usual making you shiver. His eyes were full of affection for you. 

He pulled almost out and then his hips snapped against yours making you moan so loud that you were sure that the other persons were hating you two by all the noise. 

The bed started to move with the movement of your bodies, the wood headboard was hitting against the wall again and again, the room full of the noise of moans and curses, and the smell of love. 

He moved to be closer to you and started to whisper sweet nothings against your lips and neck, moans of his name escaping of your lips along pleads of never stop. 

Then everything went quiet when the two of you felt the knot snapped. He pulled out and kissed your forehead with love and you gave him a giggle. 

"I love you" He whispered against your hair while he covered your bodies with the sheets hiding the mess that both of you made. 

"I love you too." You whispered against his neck and gave him a little kiss, now you felt at peace.

[reiderwriter]

hii!!! so i was wondering if you could do a one shot that’s inspired by either false god by taylor swift where spencer and reader are just worshiping each other? thank you <3

Hi! I'm not much of a swiftie, so I've never heard that song before I sat down to write this but it was perfect inspiration for a fic! I hope you enjoy it 💕

Warnings: Case details mentioned, typical CM violence, angst-adjacent confrontation with happy ending, hurt/comfort, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), squirting (implied), vaginal sex, implied creampie (no birth control mentioned). 2.2k words. Based on:

It was when the door to your hotel room slammed shut that you knew there was finally going to be a confrontation. Combing a hand through your hair, you threw your bag down and turned to look at Spencer. He stood there, just watching you from the door, his jaw tense as he struggled to break the silence and actually talk to you the way you knew he wanted to. 

“Spit it out, Spencer. If you’re going to push your way in here, you might as well say what you want to say.” You were frustrated and his silence was only making the fatigue from a day on a tough case worse. “Come on, Spencer, I don’t have all day.” 

“Do you want to die?” His voice held steady when he finally let out the words, and they hit you like a succer-punch. “Because what I saw out there today seemed like someone more than happy to put themselves in harm's way for no reason.” He stepped closer to you as he said the words, and you felt yourself grow hot. You just weren’t sure if it was from shame or anger. 

“Don’t profile me, Reid. I knew what I was doing.” You turned your back on him and began to go about your business, hoping that he would drop it and vacate the room as quickly as he’d stormed in. 

“You tried to take a bullet for me. Y/N, I was in the middle of talking him down, and you pushed me out of the way and forced his hand.” 

“So will the thank you card be delivered in the post, or can I expect it on my desk tomorrow?” You still wouldn’t make eye contact with him, thinking back to the events of the day. 

You’d known the plan all along was to have Reid talk the suspect down while you got his last victim to safety. Everything in the profile pointed towards the unsub being a loner, someone with narcissistic personalities who you knew wouldn’t end up shooting his way out. Someone that had acted with a cold violent misogyny in his crimes, and someone who would not respond well to a female agent trying to get through to him. You knew all that and you still couldn’t help yourself. 

“In this world of ours, Agent, men like you and I should be Gods. It’s my right to take that power for myself,” the man had said, holding his hostage in his arms as if she were a ragdoll, carefully watching every movement you and your team made. Morgan and Emily had the back entrances covered should he try to run, and Hotch, Rossi and JJ were coordinating with the backup SWAT team outside, should he gain any miniscule upper-hand in the situation. 

It was when Reid started talking to him again that you felt the bile rise in your throat and your body stop listening to your rational thoughts. He was giving the man everything he wanted to hear; stroking his ego, complimenting him, agreeing with him, and the man was responding as well as you could hope. 

But something was wrong, and it was clear from the moment that he levelled his gun in the direction of Spencer and released the female victim that something was about to go horribly wrong. 

“I think I was wrong, actually. We both cannot be Gods, can we?” He laughed as he said this, and you froze up instantly. Your only regret was probably that you forgot to go and check on the victim sitting on the floor, your eyes watching on in horror instead as your body through itself in front of Reid just as the unsub was ready to pull the trigger. 

The push had knocked the two of you off-balance. But the unsub was slack-mouthed and caught off-guard. He hadn’t even pulled the trigger yet, and now here the two of you were sitting pretty for him on the floor of his dump site waiting for him to put a bullet through your brains. He didn’t have the chance to, the SWAT sniper getting the orfer to open fire the second you’d strayed from protocol. 

Spencer still hadn’t left your room, his anger and frustration rolling off of him in waves. You moved about the room in an organized frenzy, completing your nightly rituals with as much obvious frustration as you could muster. You dropped your gun and badge on the nightstand, pulled off your jacket and mindlessly rooted through your bag looking for nothing in particular, praying that Spencer would walk out of the door and not force you to face your stupid decisions. 

Instead he grabbed your wrists, spinned you around and pushed you against the wall, forcing your eyes to meet with his as he pinned you there. 

“Stop fucking ignoring me,” he growled out in a low-voice. The sudden burst of movement had you both gasping for breath and you just stood there quietly again for a few seconds, breathing each other. You gave in first and rested your head against the wall, letting him force your eyes up to meet his.

“Ask me the question you really want the answer for, Reid. Because we both know I’m not suicidal.” 

“Why won’t you let me keep you safe?” his voice came out in a small whimper now, his body weight slowly pressing up against yours as he moved to rest his forehead on your head. The two of you stood there suspended in time, just lost in the feel of each other, the pressure and the heat from his body in contrast to the sharp cool of the wall at your back, and you silently begged him to make a move. But he was determined to get you to answer, holding his tongue when all you wanted him to do was crash his lips against yours and help you to fill yourself with him. 

“Because I do not want to be safe in a world without you,” you finally confessed. He lasted only a few seconds with that answer hung between you before he gave you what you wanted. 

His lips were cracked and dry but he was warm and sweet and you instantly received him, desperate to pull him so close that he could never leave. Your lips crashed together again and again, as if desperate to stretch your first kiss into your first ten, twenty, one hundred. He dropped your wrists after an eternity, only to greedily run his hands up and down your waist, snaking around you so tight that you gasped and let his tongue in. 

He explored you with his entire body, his mouth pressing into you messily his hands roaming desperately trying to map the plains of your body, like knowing you would be his salvation. You did the same, gripping his sweater with balled up fists and forcing him closer into you, unwilling and unable to let him move away. 

He gently walked you to the edge of the bed, not straying from his ministrations for even a second, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you were falling. But he was falling with you, and so you didn’t care, 

He finally pulled away from you then, raising himself up onto his arms and looking down on you like you’d personally put the stars in the sky. 

“Have you ever stopped to think for a second that I’d hate any world without you in it as well?” Shifting his weight, he bought his hand down to cup your cheek, then let his finger ghost over your neck and down to the swell of your breasts as he moved to undo each button of your blouse tantalisingly slow. 

“Give me the word, and I will worship you. I will show you exactly what you mean to me. Just give me the word and I will let you know peace.” You whimpered out a breathy ‘yes,’ and he was on you again in seconds, with a renewed passion. 

Your blouse was discarded in seconds as his tongue traced its way down to your breasts in sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and still the only sound that filled the room was your desperate pants. Your hips rolled up against his as he pulled you up to discard your bra, his tongue finally landing on your painfully erect nipples. He tweaked and teased, moving between them languidly, and you were content to have him stay there forever. 

He obviously had further plans though, and he moved lower still, kissing down to your navel and lifting your hips just enough for you to shimmy them down your legs and discard them quickly. And then there he was, just sat with his head resting in between your legs, pressing sweet kisses to the insides of your thighs and looking deeply into your eyes as he worked his way closer and closer to your core. 

Your panties were slick to your skin, so when he made his first drag of his tongue up your slit, it was with the beautiful added friction of the lace against you. He buried his face in your core then, and started licking and sucking and devouring you like a man starved, like you were nectar from the heavens and your attentions could grant him immortality. 

Even with the panties interrupting any direct contact, you could feel your need for him bubble up to your boiling point, and you squeezed your thighs around him, suffocating him in your first release. He pulled your legs apart again, taking the time to remove your panties now before pinning your legs apart again and returning to his last supper. 

He sucked, nipped, kissed you again, one hand pressed firmly against your hips to pin you down as you bucked and writhed in your sensitivity. His face was slick with your juices, as he thrust his tongue in and out of you now, using his nose to press into your aching clit. 

He worked tirelessly, desperate to shower you with all the attention he wanted to give you, and you gasped and moaned and whined back to him, like a goddess whispering affirmations in the ears of her most devout follower. 

It was understandable when your second orgasm hit, then, and he found himself flooded with your juices, doing his best to ride you through this time and taking in as much of you into his mouth as possible. When he finally pulled away, your legs were twitching and your eyelids heavy, but with your remaining strength, you cupped his cheeks and bought his face up to yours. He face glistened with your cum, his lips now plump and shining, and you pulled him down to you, aching with the desire to taste yourself on his tongue. 

“I’m going to keep you safe and hold you like this until you understand that I am not capable of living without you, do you understand?” he whispered in your ear when he finally pulled away, and you let the tears that had been building up fall finally as he pressed one final kiss to your lips before moving away to rid himself of his clothes. 

You were crazy to think that you would ever be able to turn your back on this man, that he would ever walk away from you and leave you alone. As he returned to you you held out your arms open to him, and he fell into them. It was a home-coming, a return to the palace the both of you belonged, wrapped up in each other like that. 

Still weak from his earlier attentions, he helped you move your legs to wrap them around him, as you twined your arms up and around his neck, pulling him in for a deep and passionate kiss as he pushed despairingly slowly into you. 

You winced as you adjusted to his size and he pressed chaste kisses along your neck as you got used to him, whispering between each one. 

“You’re beautiful,” your neck. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,” your jaw. “I will spend my entire life in awe of you,” the corner of your mouth. 

When you were ready you finally blinked your eyes open and pushed your mouth into his, and he finally began his movements. Rocking his hips gently into yours, the two of you were in no rush to consume each other, savoring the feel of your coupling. You finally understood the meaning of calling the act making love - never before had you felt so cared for, so loved and desired as you did in that moment with Spencer Reid. 

You felt him getting closer and closer to bliss when he started picking up his pace slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his body heavy with the weight of his love for you. 

“I love you,” you gasped out as you felt him shudder inside of you, letting him hear the words just as he was tipped over the edge. Even though it was the first time you’d voiced the words so clearly outloud, you felt no panic, no anxiety at having made a hasty decision. It felt right, it was right. 

And you were going to keep telling this man, who worshipped you so wholly, as often as you could from this day forward,so help you god. 

[venusbyline]

oh hell i need a fucking VERY specific threesome right now

[avis-writeshq]

03 — labyrinth

summary: “uh oh, i’m falling in love”/“thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?” pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, slow burn, mutual pining warnings: drug usage & addiction, talks about relapsing, therapy, tobias hankel, talks about weight (not reader’s), panic attack/night terrors wc: 3.8k a/n: as always, special mention to @astrophileous for beta-reading SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

“Are you okay?” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you gently lay a hand on Spencer’s forearm. You offer a soft squeeze of reassurance, your gaze meeting his. 

He nods dismissively, averting his eyes but not shrugging your hand away. His tone is cold as he responds, “I’m fine.” 

You know better than to believe him. Ever since his kidnapping a few short weeks ago, he’s been acting strangely. His eyes are sunken, bloodshot most of the time, with dark bags beneath them. He’s lost weight, not that he wasn’t already skinny to begin with, but he’s thinner than usual. He gets distracted more easily, he doesn’t spout out about random facts or statistics, and he’s now almost always irritated about something. 

He’s been spending more and more time at your apartment, not that you don’t blame him. The two of you would spend your mornings at the dining table, eating half-stale cereal and sipping coffee from the premium machine you splurged on a couple years ago. The closeness is nice, and at times it feels a little too domestic to be platonic, but you’ve learned to control yourself around him. 

You open your mouth to say something else (you’re mainly hoping to call him out on his behaviour), but he moves his other hand on top of yours, lightly pressing your fingers. Your mouth goes dry and your cheeks flush at the contact, effectively making you go quiet. He glances at you, his face softening and for a moment you could have sworn you saw the ‘old Reid’ resurface.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear, his voice wavering with each syllable. “I’m fine. I promise.”

Even before you were a profiler, you prided in being able to read people well. Spencer is no exception to this; he’s always been easy to read, and his tells are only obvious to the trained eye. In other words, in your long five years of knowing him, you could smell his lies from a mile away. You don’t comment on it, just allowing yourself to bask in the comfort of his touch and the warmth he exudes. 

The two of you head off to work minutes later, climbing into your car with you in the driver’s seat. He holds your hand the entire time. 

*** 

Spencer thinks he’s going to throw up. The moment he gets onto the plane, he thinks he’s going to hurl. He locks himself into the bathroom, fumbling with the little vials of clear liquid in his satchel. He doesn’t know how long he can keep this a secret for– he’s always been a bad liar– especially from a team of profilers. He gathers that they probably already know.

His vision blurs and his head grows foggy as soon as he feels the liquid enter his bloodstream. He squeezes his eyes tightly, relishing in the artificial feel of serenity when there’s a knock on the door.

“Uh… Spencer?”

Fuck, he wants to scream as he scrambles to put everything back in his bag. Not you. Anybody but you.

“In– in a minute,” he responds hurriedly, flushed and woozy from his high. He feels nauseous again and he wonders if he should actually just throw up to make the story more believable.

“Um, okay? I was a little worried; you’ve been in there for a while. Did you need anything?” You ask again through the door as quietly as possible, glancing at where the team were sitting. “Water? Tea?”

He swings the door open, and his voice is a lot harsher than he expected it to be. “I’m fine.”

He almost misses the way you step back uncertainly, and the way your fingers twitch at your side. Almost. He knows you don’t believe him. He knows that you know him better than anyone and at times it scares him. He feels like Pandora’s Box and it’s only a matter of time before you release the demons within him. His heart lurches as he watches the way your face falls into confusion and hurt– hurt that he is responsible for. 

“I’m fine,” he repeats, softer now. “Just– just tired.”

He watches as you pause and give him a once over. His breath hitches in his throat as he feels your eyes over every inch of him, and for a second he feels incredibly exposed. 

“You know you can talk to me, right?” You say slowly, cautiously, and you reach a hand out to gently graze against his forearm. “I’m here for you.”

The contact is enough to get him to calm down, and his shoulders visibly relax and his eyes close for a moment. He nods, looking at you with a softness he didn’t even know he could muster.

“I know,” he responds, touching his fingers to yours. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” you respond with a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You pause for a moment before nodding towards the seats of the plane. 

Spencer follows you there, sitting beside you and as he relishes in your warmth and, in your company, he doesn’t feel quite as lost. The nausea begins to dissipate and he suddenly feels a lot lighter– and it’s not because of the drugs. This is different, a better different. A different he could get used to. The pressure from the plane doesn’t seem to affect him as much anymore, and his ears are no longer ringing. 

He leans into your touch, his head pressed against your shoulder and his eyes begin to close. He feels your fingers gingerly hold his own, squeezing lightly in an effort to help him relax. It works. It always works. He feels the way your thumb grazes against the back of his hand and he feels both full of air and breathless at the same time. 

“You okay?” You ask into his hair, continuing to rub your thumb back and forth against his hand. 

He nods, not being able to bring himself to speak. He’s tired, so unbelievably tired, and he thinks that if he speaks he’ll begin to cry. He doesn’t realise that his grip on your hand has tightened.

“I’m not going to leave you.” He hears you whisper, squeezing his hand back.

He only brings himself to nod again, trying desperately to ignore the way his heart flutters in his chest. Uh oh. He’s falling in love.

***

Spencer knocks on your door at half past two in the morning, eyes bloodshot and feeling as if he was suffocating. He doesn’t want to be alone. At least, he doesn’t right now. He would usually enjoy the feeling of solace, considering that it was unlikely he would be able to experience those moments, but lately it feels as though he is lost inside of his own mind. He misses the moments where his head would swirl with unnecessary statistics, or random animal facts that he knows you adore. Now, the only thing stuck in his mind is the rush of the high– and the plummeting feeling of the low.

He holds a breath as he watches your feet come to a stop at the door before the doorknob jiggles and opens. His eyes hesitantly meet yours and he swallows thickly. 

“Can I come in?” He asks, the words barely a whisper. 

“Yeah,” comes your response, and you open the door a little wider. “Yeah, Spence, of course.”

He watches as you boil water and prepare two cups of tea– one chamomile and the other peppermint. He sits on the couch, fiddling with his fingers and his eyes darting around nervously. 

“Spencer.”

Your voice echoes through the room, and suddenly he feels very grounded. He forces his eyes to meet yours and he feels himself stop breathing. Have you always been this beautiful?

“You haven’t been yourself lately,” you say, setting down the cup of peppermint tea in front of him. “Talk to me.”

He laughs humourlessly, sipping at the scalding tea and he grimaces at the burning sensation. “You sound like a therapist.”

“I studied as one,” you counter, dipping your teabag up and down in the cup. “The others… they can’t say anything. But I’m leaving the BAU soon, so I’m technically allowed to ask you this without any federal obligations.” 

“I don’t know–” he begins to deny, but stops short at the way you give him a warning look.

“You’re high right now, aren’t you? And you were on the plane.” Your tone isn’t accusatory, but he expects it from the words that leave your lips. Your gaze softens as you continue. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?”

He flinches and he knows there’s no way out of it. “I tried.”

“I know.”

“I just– I can’t and I want to and I wish that I was… that I was stronger.”

“You are strong.”

He shakes his head. “I should be able to get over this. Get over everything he did to me.”

“Spencer, you were kidnapped and drugged and then you came back to the BAU like nothing even happened.” You pause and lick your bottom lip. “No one is expecting you to get over it, especially not this quickly.”

He doesn’t respond, a strange sense of deja vu filling him at your words and he sits rigid on the couch with his hands in his lap. His eyes don’t leave your face, his gaze shifting from your eyes to the curvature of your nose and then to your lips. For a split second, he wonders how they would feel against his, or how they’d feel against his neck. His head goes heavy at the thought and he pushes them away.

You don’t seem to notice where his eyes have settled, or you’re very good at acting as if he isn’t staring at your face because you continue to speak. “Well,” you say slowly, putting the cup of tea onto the table, “it’s a good thing I’m leaving the BAU then, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if I can do this job without you,” he confesses, shifting his eyes downcast as he stares into his tea. 

You laugh a little, and he thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. “You act as if I’m dying or something.”

“I’m serious,” he presses, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I want to be happy for you. And I am! But at the same time I feel– I feel so selfish for wanting you to stay.”

He feels you sit beside him and he instinctively leans into your touch, burying his face into the space between your neck and shoulder.

“It’s not your fault, Spence,” you whisper, rubbing comforting circles on his back. “And I’m always going to be there for you. Promise me you’ll remember that?”

He nods deftly into your neck, breathing in the smell of your perfume. 

“Spencer.”

“Promise,” he mumbles, an arm wrapped around your waist. “I know. I promise.”

You hum in acknowledgement. “Good.”

There’s a lull in the conversation, but for once it’s no longer the uncomfortable silence you were tormented with back home. You could feel everything from his hot breath on your neck to the way his fingers squeeze your sides as if you’d disappear if he held you any looser. 

“We still need to talk about this whole issue at some point though. You know that, right?” You murmur into his hair.

“I know.”

“We don’t have to talk about it now.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to stay over?”

“… please.”

***

It has been two weeks since you finished up at the BAU and started work at a clinic, working as a children’s therapist. It’s been a good change of pace for you; a lot slower and much more routinely. The hours are a million times better, and you find that you’re able to get home before seven on most days. The amount of free time that’s been handed to you is something to get used to, now that it’s no longer filled with completing paperwork or getting onto a plane. 

Despite all the positives, it feels strange not seeing your former team everyday. It feels strange not being able to see Penelope’s brightly coloured outfits, or Derek’s dumb jokes. You missed Emily’s sarcasm and JJ’s stories about Henry, and you missed seeing Hotch’s rare smiles whenever he sees someone in his team succeeding. A lot of the time you find yourself craving Rossi’s famous pastas accompanied with special wine. But most of all, you miss seeing Spencer in his element every single day. 

He’s been doing better, or so he says. He’s been going to self-help groups and you’ve been sending him summaries of help books written by former addicts. It seems to have helped because he’s been acting more and more like Spencer Reid than a weird limbo version of him. He still spends a lot of time at your place, sleeping on your couch despite your constant protests. He ends up taking turns with you after you bribed him with multiple chocolate donuts. 

Although he insists that he’s been doing better, his constant night terrors say otherwise and more often than not you find him sweating and sobbing in his sleep. Today is no different.

“Spencer,” You whisper, shaking his shoulder firmly. “Spence!���

He jolts awake, sitting up so quickly he almost knocks his forehead with yours. He groans, his fingers flying to his eyes as he rubs them. Fresh tears slip past his closed eyes, spilling down his cheeks and you pull him into your arms. 

“You’re okay, I got you,” you murmur, rubbing soothing circles against his shoulder blade as he sobs. 

He keeps repeating the words “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t want it” as he sobs against your shoulder, clutching your shirt in the palms of his hands. 

“Breathe in,” you guide gently, running your free hand through his hair, “breathe deep… breathe out…”

He takes in a shaky breath before exhaling through sobs but he continues to follow your guide. He wraps around you tightly, taking deep breaths in before releasing them. After a few minutes of steady breathing, he finally speaks.

“I relapsed yesterday.” 

He expects you to push him off and start screaming. He expects you to start yelling at him for not being able to control himself and for wasting all his progress. He reckons he deserves it. But you don’t do any of those things. 

“That’s okay,” you respond, squeezing his hand. “Have you talked to Meredith about it?”

Meredith Gray is a therapist you introduced Spencer to. She’s a good friend of yours and specialises in addictions as well as post traumatic stress disorder, and she even wrote her final thesis about it. Even though you work in different fields, the jobs cross over a lot when there’s speculation that a parent could be sick. After explaining the situation to her, Meredith was more than willing to take Spencer as a client.

Spencer shakes his head, the guilt creeping into his chest and lacing his words. “No… I have an appointment with her tomorrow though.”

“Okay, good,” you nod, continuing to rub soothing circles on his back. “Relapsing is normal. It’s just another step to healing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.”

“But–”

“It’s normal,” you repeat firmly. “You acknowledged it, and you told me. That’s good, Spence, better than most people.”

He’s quiet, his nose brushing against the soft skin of your neck before he speaks again. “Did you know I’m scared of elevators?”

You can’t help but laugh at the change of conversation and you squeeze his hand. “No, I didn’t.”

“Morgan and I got caught in one the other day. On a case,” he muses. “On average, elevators are inspected once or twice a year, but some could go up to three years without inspection. There are approximately ten thousand elevator related injuries per year, and twenty seven deaths.” 

“Now I’m never going into an elevator again,” you respond with jest, poking his cheek. “It’s late. Take the bed, Walter.”

He huffs. “It’s your turn.”

“You need it more than me.”

“I’m not fragile.”

“I never said that you are.”

“(Y/N).”

You give him a pointed look. “Spencer.”

He stares at you for a moment, holding your gaze before he swallows and looks away. You watch the way his Adam Apple bobs in his throat and you suddenly feel faint. 

“Take the bed, Walter,” you repeat, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Please?”

He says your name again, and he reaches up to rest his fingers against the collar of your pyjamas. Your breath hitches and you can’t help the way your cheeks grow warm and your head starts to spin. His touch is gentle, his fingers brushing against the skin of your shoulder. You resist the urge to shudder as you relish his skin against yours.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, pleading, and his eyes glance from your collar to your eyes. 

“You hate sharing beds,” you remind him.

His thumb grazes against your jaw and his face is so close to yours you could count his eyelashes. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that he was going to kiss you. But you do know better, so you avert your gaze and push the thoughts out of your mind. An indescribable look flickers on his face but it is gone as quickly as it had appeared. 

“It’s okay if it’s you,” he says earnestly, and you find yourself agreeing because how could you say ‘no’ to that?

You climb into bed, one leg outside of the covers because everything felt so warm, especially with his arm wrapped around your middle and his breath against your shoulder. The thin line between platonic and romantic love has blurred indefinitely now, and at times like these you feel as if it has disappeared entirely. Guilt creeps into your veins as you feel him bring you closer to him, his nose buried into your shoulder. Is this considered coercing? He’s in the middle of healing, working towards sobriety, and here you are taking advantage of his vulnerability. Well, technically you’re not ‘taking advantage’ of him if he seeks you out first but it still feels inherently wrong. Morally wrong, maybe. 

It takes you another thirty minutes to fall asleep, your head rushing with thoughts and questions as you do. He’s gone when you wake up in the morning.

***

“Someone is looking happy,” Derek comments with a teasing grin, slinking an arm around Spencer’s neck. 

It has been about a week since the ‘sleep in the same bed’ incident and he was promptly whisked away to a case in Nevada. He felt guilty about the whole ordeal, considering he wasn’t in his right state of mind at the time. It still made him feel like a sleazy college student who had a one night stand with some random person and then bolted (even though there was no contact of that sort that night). Despite his initial guilt, his head is spinning with the sheer peace and comfort that he experienced when he was sleeping in the same bed as someone. And that someone was you! He could barely even believe it. It all felt so right and perfect… and the way you would shuffle closer at times… it was enough to get his heart racing (he thinks that it’s terribly cliche and horribly cringe-worthy, but therapy has told him that he needs to ‘embrace’ his gross sappy feelings).

“What? No– I mean yes but–”  Spencer coughs in response to Derek’s teasing, clutching the strap of his shoulder bag. 

Derek cackles at his fumbling, grinning ear to ear. “Alright, so… is it a girl?”

“What?!” He shrieks, his voice raising by two octaves as he does. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Oh so there is a girl,” Emily joins in with a smirk.

“There is– there is no girl,” he responds briskly, his cheeks burning in embarrassment.

Derek hums in thought, a mischievous look in his eye. “Did you catch up with Lila again?”

“No!” Spencer bristles at the thought. Ever since he almost destroyed his friendship with you over her, he hasn’t even bothered to give her a call. “I haven’t seen her since her since– since her case.”

“What about that girl you picked up at a bar?” Emily offers with a sly laugh. “What’s her name again?”

“Austin,” Spencer recalls instantly, his cheeks flaring up again as soon as she says her name. “B-but I haven’t spoken to her either!”

JJ rounds the corner, all too happy to join in the fun (much to Spencer’s chagrin). “I bet it’s (Y/N),” she says with a knowing smirk. 

Spencer considers his brain to be a well oiled machine of facts and logic. It’s one of the only things he could rely on– and the only thing people seem to respect him for. As of late, his ‘well oiled machine’ hasn’t been functioning as well as he would have liked, but that doesn’t mean it’s not functioning at almost full capacity. But JJ’s comment, no matter how well functioning his brain was, rendered him speechless. 

“Looks like you hit the nail on the head, JJ,” Derek cackles, clapping Spencer’s shoulder. 

He lets out a small grunt at the contact, almost stumbling over his feet before he catches himself. “There is nothing going on between (Y/N) and I. We’re just friends.” The words taste bitter on his tongue and he resists the urge to cringe.

“Sure,” Emily says with a short laugh. “Totally believe you. How long did it take for you to realise you’re in love with her?”

JJ snickers along. “Yeah, before or after you had that make out session with Lila?”

Spencer groans at their relentless teasing, covering his face with his hands as they walk along to the bullpen. They’re definitely a lot calmer once they enter their official place of work, but it still doesn’t stop the way they poke fun at him through sly smiles and tasteful words. 

“There’s nothing going on between us,” Spencer reiterates with a frown. “She knows just how difficult this job is; she doesn’t deserve to have to deal with it again.”

“Isn’t she the one who’s supposed to decide that?” Emily asks gently, no more teasing in her tone. She’s always been good at giving advice.

He pauses at that, a frown etched upon his features. His mind rushes with memories; the constant leaving, the torture, the trauma, the drugs… his fingers run through his hair. 

“It’s not a good time right now,” he explains softly.

“When will it ever?”

He doesn’t meet her gaze.“I don’t know.”

← previous part || next part →

full work

[xervoxs]

spencer: oh my god

spencer: you broke emily

derek: what do we do??

aaron: *speechless*

emily: *crying*

penelope: i just let her listen to taylor swift

[gublersg1rl]

if i see one more post “wildest dreams is about mgg” NO ITS FUCKING NOT IM SO SORRY girl they had ONE photo together that i believe was taken at a 4th of july party at her house like girl bye they hung out like once with a bunch of other people you guys are DELUSIONAL ?!:&:&23&

also if you hear the lyric “he’s so bad but does it so well” and think mgg u need help bcuz that man is anything but bad he writes children’s book and wears funky outfits

[fxllfaiiry]

─ hits different 'cause it's you

★ pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

★ summary: spencer reid is used to being called pretty boy by everyone ─ everyone but you.

★ warnings: fluff, spencer and the reader acting like lovesick teens, co-workers to lovers, the team teasing spencer.

★ notes: I had this saved in my drafts for a long time and finally thought why not post it?? please don't mind any errors, english is not my first language.

Spencer Reid likes a lot of things. He likes books, he likes jello, but most importantly, he likes you. He could talk about you for hours, in fact, if he was given the chance to, he would. Spencer was mesmerized by everything you did, he was hopelessly, utterly, in love with you.

“Pretty boy, what are you dreaming about?” Derek’s voice jolted him out of his bubble, he looked around embarrassed remembering he was in fact surrounded by his co-workers. Everyone in the jet turned to look at him, everyone including you. Sitting next to you was making him nervous.

“Um, nothing. I was just thinking about, stuff?” He somehow magically managed to stutter out a full sentence under your gaze, god he felt pathetic.

“Reid, are you asking us or telling us?” Hotch asked looking amused.

Spencer could feel your gaze set on him, he really hoped you couldn't see how red his cheeks are. “I - I’m telling you, yeah.” How was the smartest person in the room suddenly, the dumbest?

“Come on, give pretty boy a break,” Rossi smiled. Rossi had a sixth sense when it comes to these things, he knew about Spencer’s feelings from day one, it was obvious to almost everyone, but of course not to you.

You were equally in love with him, but you would never tell Spencer that, you couldn't bare the rejection. If only you knew how smitten he was with you. You stared at his face, marvelling at how pretty he looked, oh how you would kill for those lips to be on yours.

“Was pretty boy dreaming about a pretty girl?” Emily teased. What? No. Picturing Spence with other girls made you want to throw up. If you were paying more attention rather than drowning in jealousy, you’d have noticed Spencer’s eyes darting towards you.

“Come on pretty boy, tell us who the girl is.” Curiosity was killing you, who was the lucky lady that caught Spencer Reid’s eye?

Spencer froze, you called him pretty boy? He isn't used to that at all, you usually call him Spence or boy genius, but never pretty boy. ‘Please call me that again,’ he thought to himself.

“You think I’m pretty?” The question slipped past his lips before he could stop himself. That was everyone’s queue to stop listening, they all rushed back into their conversations wanting to give you guys some privacy.

“What? Of course, I think you’re pretty, Spence.” Where did this come from all of a sudden? You thought he was the prettiest boy, you would tell him that every day if you had to.

“I mean - It’s just you never call me that…” He tried to hide his nervous state by letting out a chuckle. He almost felt sad, why didn't you call him pretty boy? He wants to be your pretty boy desperately.

You on the other hand had no idea why you didn't call him that. Note: call Spencer Reid pretty boy more often.

“Well, I’m sorry, I’ll call you pretty boy more often if you want?” Where did that sudden wave of confidence come from?

“Oh, I would like that,” Spencer mumbled. He tried to keep the smile off his face but it was useless. This feeling was better than reading with his cardigan on, on a cosy rainy day.

“You’re the prettiest boy I know, Spence. My pretty boy.” The last part was so quiet Spencer would’ve missed it if he wasn't paying attention, but fortunately, he’s always paying attention to you.

“I think you’re the prettiest too.” The two of you were acting like love-sick teenagers, but what the hell, screw that.

“Would you like to go on a date with me once we get back, Spence?” You were beaming, after years of waiting, you finally got what you wanted, and the new surge of confidence certainly helped.

“I’d love that.”

bonus !

“Garcia owes me 20 bucks” Derek whispered watching the scene unfold.