#i came up this this sexy outfit for her and im throwing my brain in the garbage

[itsadragonaesthetic]

Me: Wow I've been feeling really depressed and unstable lately. Hopefully, after a few days of my meds, I'll feel better My meds: you are now madly in love with every woman in your vicinity and you suddenly find clowns extremely hot. Also your gender-envy ego thing is back Me: I don't think... I want this either

[spacedikut]

nurse reid ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary:  “Hi cutie! I hope you are doing well! I LOVE your writing! Would it be possible for me to request something about reader fainting/almost fainting with Spencer and him taking care of her? Thank you I love you❤️❤️❤️❤️” 1781 words

a/n: three things: i have never fainted before so im guessing here, i kinda hate this so if u hate it too pretend u don’t AND if you saw me already post this two times no u didn’t :)

masterlist

Spencer should’ve known something was wrong when you came in late, rushing into the briefing room with squinted eyes and a lack of bounce in your step. When, after Hotch told the team today was for paperwork meaning everyone was desk bound, you sighed in relief.

You love field work. You love cases. You love being out there, helping people. The last thing you want is a day of writing reports.

He should’ve known when you finally stood, taking a couple of seconds to do so, and you had to blink rapidly to clear your vision of black and white dots.

You stumbled straight into Spencer’s chest, where he stood waiting for you.

“Careful,” He mumbled, one hand holding your elbow and the other resting around your waist. There was a second where he was the only thing holding you up. In normal circumstances, you would’ve blushed and been stuck on the thought of his hands on you for the rest of the day.

This wasn’t a normal day.

You went to respond with something teasing, maybe a joke about him being your knight in shining armour and he’d tell you about the history of the saying, but the feeling of bile rising in your throat stopped you.

You prepared to slump over and throw up on the shoes of your crush. But it never comes.

The sounds around you abruptly dull, vision becoming fuzzy as your brain started feeling distinctly tingly.

Suddenly you were falling.

The world goes black.

+++

You wake up some time later, incredibly confused but comfortable.

The first thing you realise is you’re in Hotch’s office on his couch. You know the smell of his office, you know the smell of Hotch, and it’s one of comfort.

But it’s Spencer sitting next to you. You know the smell of Spencer, too.

When you open your eyes, your suspicions are confirmed – Spencer is sitting directly in front of your face on the floor, cross-legged and speeding through a book. He hears you shift and looks up, eyes wide and brows tensing.

“You scared the hell out of me.” Is the first thing he says.

You huff a laugh, gratefully accepting the water he offers. You gulp it down at an awkward angle, given that you’re lying down and refuse to get up. “What happened?”

“You fainted. You know, fainting occurs when the blood pressure gets too low and the heart is not pumping a normal supply of oxygen to the brain. The medical term for fainting, or passing out, is-“

“Syncope. I know.” You grimace. You lift a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache now forming as well.

Spencer’s brows stay furrowed, deep frown on his face as he looks at you with sympathetic eyes, “Does this happen often?”

He keeps his voice low, rumbling through his chest and sounding very nice in your ears. “Not that often. Just.. sometimes, when I forget to eat or drink for a while. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” He lifts a hand, placing it against your forehead with a special tenderness that makes your heart ache. You watch him the entire time, watching the cogs turning in his head as he assess you. “But my theory was correct. When was the last time you ate?”

You avoid eye contact.

He sighs.

“Y/N…”

You pout. Maybe, if you look cute enough, he won’t lecture you.

He doesn’t get the chance (although all his brain is really saying is you cute you cute you cute), because Penelope gingerly pushes the office door open, bringing in a strong stream of light (you only now notice how dim the room is), holding a bag full of who-knows-what that she hands to Spencer.

“Here,” She says, then looks at you, “How you feeling, sweetness?”

“I’ll survive.” You smile, small and weak.

She nods with a pitiful “Good” and quietly shuts the door behind her.

You go to ask what presents Penelope has brought, but Spencer sticks a hand in the bag, ruffling around for a second, before bringing out a pack of sugar-drowned sweets you know are from the vending machine.

He opens the pack for you and grabs one, dangling it above your open mouth.

“For your low blood sugar.”

It’s one of those rainbow strands, covered entirely in sugar from top to bottom. It sizzles on your tongue, a sourness that makes your jaw flinch, but you happily accept a second from Spencer.

Your body feels exhausted, but your arms are still fully mobile. Spencer doesn’t need to feed you.

You’re sure he knows this. (He does)

You won’t say anything, though. This is way too sweet and kind.

(Spencer’s enjoying it too)

The whole pack is gone in minutes. He sneaks a few, as expected, because Spencer is a child with a sugar addiction at heart.

“What now?” You sigh.

“How do you feel?”

He looks at you so tenderly you feel like the most important person on the planet. The way he’s gazing at you, all concerned and sympathetic, makes you want to kiss him. Right on the lips. And the rest of his face, too.

He interrupts before you even open your mouth, “Don’t answer that. Well, answer it, but I’m disregarding anything you say because you’re spending the rest of the day in here where I can look after you.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Oh? On who’s orders?”

“Mine. I am a Doctor, after all,”

“I can’t stay here all day, Spence. It was just a little faint-“

“A little faint?! Y/N, although syncope is a common problem, if you go on about your day like nothing is wrong you could faint again and get hurt. Like, badly hurt.” He pauses, “And I can’t let that happen. So I’m going to take care of you and watch over you to ensure nothing happens.”

“That’s sweet, Spence, really, but-“

“No buts. I’m your Doctor.”

“You’re not a medical Doctor!”

“Then I’m your nurse.”

You smirk. He instantly regrets saying that.

“You’re my nurse?” You ask.

“I take it back. I’m your doctor.”

“If you really want to make me feel better, I’m pretty sure I have an old sexy nurse costume if you wanna wear it.”

“No. I do not want to wear that. Thank you.”

You pout again.

“Just relax, Y/N. At least for a little while.”

You concede, deciding some rest won’t hurt, nodding and shuffling your body to settle back into the couch. You close your eyes and Spencer goes back to his book – you’re a little surprised he’s staying with you, but then you assume he’ll stay until you fall asleep and come back to check on you later.

Some time passes where sleep evades you.

“Will you read to me, Spence?” You open one eye and look at him, where he’s biting his lip as his eyes furiously scan the pages.

His head snaps up, caught off guard, “Huh?”

“Will you read to me? I can’t relax.”

“Of-of course.” He looks back at the book in his lap, “The book I’m reading is in Russian, though.”

You hum, “That’s okay. I just like your voice.”

You don’t see it, but he blushes profusely, smothering a wide grin that he knows would make him look like a lovesick puppy.

Right before you fall asleep, you mumble something. If Spencer wasn’t sat so close, he would’ve missed it.

He’s glad he didn’t.

“You’re adorable.”

For the first time in his life, Spencer wants to squeal.

+++

Turns out you sleep the entire work day away. You were more exhausted and drained than you let on – the amount of case files everyone had to work through made you feel tremendously guilty when you imagined Hotch and JJ spending yet another late night at the office, significant others and kids eagerly waiting for them at home, so you took on way more work than you could handle, exerting yourself by staying up late, skipping meals - all things you’d kill your team for doing.

And you paid for it by fainting bright and early on a Friday morning.

Spencer watches you, gripping his satchel that sits across his body, as you slowly gather your belongings together. You’ve only just woken up, eyes bleary and movements sluggish.

He gathers all his courage and says, “I think I should take you home.”

You blink at him. “Why?”

He curses internally. He was hoping, in your disoriented state, you’d comply and definitely not question him.

Please don’t make him tell you he loves and cares for you so much and the idea of you going home alone after all this makes him anxious and he refuses to let you repeat what you’ve been doing to yourself.

He clears his throat, “Well, most of the time fainting is harmless, but a small percentage of people faint due to serious medical conditions, such as an irregular heartbeat. I’m just. I think it’d be safer if I stayed with you.”

You look at him, really look at him, and he tries to hide how he bites his lip and how his eyes flicker away for a moment.

He’s hiding something.

You turn your body towards him, suspicion clear on your face. Spencer swallows. You’ve got that look – brows raised, eyes narrowed and pursed lips.

He likes your lips. His eyes linger there.

You notice, of course you do, and you decide to take a leap.

“Alright. If you consider wearing the nurse outfit I’ll let you come home with me.”

Spencer guffaws.

“And,” You hold a finger up, “We can stop at your favourite restaurant on the way back and spend the night relaxing together.”

Spencer hehs, “Kinda sounds like a date to me.”

“Do you want it to be?”

Spencer nods without thinking. Of course he wants to date you. Then he blushes and tries to backtrack, “I mean-“

“I’d like it to be a date.” You smile. “It can be a date, if you want,”

Your confidence begins to waiver when he takes a couple seconds to respond. But Spencer can’t resist the grin that takes over, the elation he feels when he sees you’ve taken initiative and it’s quite possible you want him the same way he wants you.

He can’t help but ask, “This isn’t the fainting talking, right?”

You roll your eyes and move towards him, picking up his hand and interlocking your fingers.  

“Trust me when I say,” You promise, making sure you look him directly in the eyes, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

When you look at him like that, Spencer thinks he might end up in that nurse outfit you mentioned.