#i haven't been putting out bomb ass gifs recently but i wanted to gif this moment --

[kth1]

the two cutest soulmates ☆ for @kimtaegis

[atlaese]

Chapter 5: you might have jinxed it now

summary: soulmates have an instant connection when they meet, right? pairing: spencer reid x reader Tw: cussing, some alcohol mentions, just sad news bc the world really sucks sometimes, fluff, maybe some typos, public speaking ew words: 3.7K a/n: hiiiii i decided to update early because why not!! (also i'm still haven't gotten around to watching further than the first few eps from season 7 :(( i really need a break from... life honestly lmao) Anyway hope you liked it! Was listening to Kali Uchis this time around > telepatía & vaya con dios & glass animals > your love (déjà vu) bomb ass songs!! Thank you for reading xx let me know if you want to be tagged :)

SPENCER REID MASTERLIST

You were pacing backstage with your cue cards in your hands, going over some last minute revisions you made about your guest lecture you were supposed give in, you checked your watch, seven minutes. When your boss had suggested you should give the lecture, you were smiling, but inside dread started filling your stomach. See, public speaking was not your forte, even though you’d never had a problem before, just knowing that multiple people were looking at you with all their attention focused on you, stressed you out. On the field, you had no problems demanding attention and giving out orders, but that was the place you were comfortable with. You knew what you were doing and you knew other people needed your guidance. But talking in front of a crowd, really was something else.

“Miss Y/L/N, 4 minutes ‘till they’re announcing you,” someone from the crew said as they checked your mic one last time. You breathed out a big breath. In one hour you’d be backstage again and you could go to the hotel bar and order a cocktail. God knows you would need it after this. You wiped your hand over your pastel pink oversized pantsuit, trying to smooth away any wrinkles. Your heels made you look even taller than you already were, but why did they have to make these things so uncomfortable?? You did look extremely fashionable and were exuding some sort of professionalism mixed with knowledge you had from spending the last 9 years working your ass off.

“Alright, the floor is yours!” The crew member who came to get you said as they ushered you towards the door. You plastered on a smile and confidently strode towards the stage.

You smiled at the crowd, who were very hard to see by the way, because of all the lights shining directly in your eyes, and started your presentation with some shocking statistics.

“Did you know that about 50% of the world’s poorest people live in just 5 countries?”

——

As you were continuing your talk, Spencer snuck in the back, taking a seat on the second to last row. Normally he would be sitting in the front, taking notes (if necessary) and asking questions.

This time he decided against it. He was scared that you would recognize him for some sort of reason, even though his rational brain told him that was literally impossible. But all his worrying had made him late now, so he hoped you wouldn’t notice him now, as some douchebag who couldn’t even bother to show up on time. He had been there 30 minutes before, but had lost track of time staring at your picture on the screen that announced the topic of your presentation.

You were walking across stage like a natural, your pantsuit demanding authority and your melodic voice flowing out of the speakers and straight into Spencer’s heart.

His profiling skills told him you were nervous though, you kept picking at the nail of your one hand, holding your cue cards in the other. For other people who didn’t know anything about profiling, you would seem as a natural. He could see you had a lot of passion for your work, but that didn’t mean you loved giving presentations in front of tons of people.

He was mesmerized by the way you talked, and couldn’t get enough of your sweet voice, the way you gestured to put an emphasis on a fact or the way you smiled when you talked about one of your recent projects.

After more than an hour of talking, you were finally through your presentation, even though Spencer wished you kept on talking.

“So, I know I dumped a lot of information on you guys,” you laughed as you crinkled your nose and talked directly to the audience, “do you have any questions for me? It can be about the NGO or how to get into an NGO or something else? Just shoot!”

A few hands went up, and you answered them one by one. Most people asked about what they could do to help an NGO and in what ways, some people asked about college programs to get into the field and others wondered what profiles the NGO needed.

“Well we have a diverse group of people in our NGO. We have some lawyers, some people who know a lot about logistics, we have a few medical employees, um, we also use a lot of national volunteers for donations, yeah, really we need a lot of people, so everyone who can help, do apply!” You replied with a smile.

“Any more questions?” You looked around the room. There were no more hands and you opened your mouth to thank everyone for attending when-

“Um yes! Actually!”, a hand quickly shot up in the air, on one of the last rows, a man with messy brown hair, dressed smartly.

“Yes, please”, you encouraged him, as you took a step closer towards the front of the stage to get a better look at him.

“How do you deal with the use of advertisements to get the local public aware of the problems in the global south?” he inquired, “I recently read that the use of poverty porn is still a big problem in the industry, but I don’t really see any solutions that are being offered.”

“Wow, that is a great question actually. Indeed, poverty porn is still a big problem. For those who don’t know. The term comes from the use of shocking pictures of people in need, to make people in the West aware of the problems that often occur in Southern countries,” you explained. You thought for a minute. This was a great question that you didn’t really expect to get, but you were happy someone brought it to your attention.

“What we do with our NGO is, we don’t really use advertisements as much as others. We are very lucky to have government support, and we have a lot of private donations. We do still have volunteers but we urge them to not use any pictures. We try to get people to understand through shared experiences, if I can say it like that”, you thought about an example, “like say our volunteers are in LA looking for donations, because sometimes earthquakes occur in the LA area, we try to get them to sympathize with people who are less fortunate who have also been affected by earthquakes. I hope that kind of answers your question”, you looked at the man, who smiled and nodded.

“We don’t really have a solution for the poverty porn, but our NGO tries to use it as little as possible. This sector is really big on being ethical, but it doesn’t always reflect it’s own standards, sadly enough.”

Spencer gave you a sad smile and nodded his head as a way to thank you for answering his question. He was impressed by the way you were so well spoken in your field, but also admitted when something wasn’t up to standards or was still an unsolved problem. He watched as you thanked the audience for being there as the crowd applauded you.

You had a small closed-lipped smile on your face, quietly panicking because you didn’t know what to do now. A crew member came on stage to get the microphone and the spotlights were finally taken of your frame. You let out a deep breath and looked in the audience and mostly saw the retreating backs of people going to the exit.

There was one person coming towards the stage though - the guy who had asked the last question, the one with messy brown hair who was getting more handsome the closer he came to the stage.

You looked down at your feet when his voice made you look up again, “hey, um, sorry for disturbing you” he said, concerning flashing in his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it, I have no idea what to do now”, a nervous laugh left your mouth, “That was a great question by the way, can I help you with anything, mister…?”

“Reid, uh doctor Spencer Reid,” he nervously said, as he brushed his hair out of his face, “I-uh, I just wanted to thank you for this lecture. I wasn’t familiar with the field yet but I’m really keen to learn more about it now.”

“Okay Doctor Reid,” you tilted your head to get a better look at him, “thank you. It really means a lot. Not many people are genuinely interested in the behind the scenes, so yeah, thanks.”

Heat was already rising to your face as you kept eye contact with him.

You both didn’t really notice that you were just staring at each other, taking each other in and memorizing the other’s face.

“Um, I, I don’t want to be too forthcoming, but would you like to get a drink in the hotel bar? I’d love to tell you more about the sector?”, you said as you picked at your nail again, which Spencer noticed when he looked down at the ground after staring at your face for way too long. The freckles on your nose and cheeks were just too distracting. The colour of your eyes drew him in, little specks mixed in with the already beautiful colour.

Did you already feel some sort of connection? Even without knowing you were matched with him? Should he tell you about the match? Or would that be weird? Shit, should he just not have made contact with you already? What are you going to think when you see his name on the matching profile?

“Um Doctor Reid,” you waved your hand in front of his face, “sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything. I should go.” You were stumbling over your words like you were just learning how to talk. Get a grip on yourself y/n.

You were starting to turn away from him, embarrassed that you had just asked out this random man. You’d never done this before and now you knew why.

“No, no I would love to!” He exclaimed and his voice pitched a tone higher, “I’m actually staying in the hotel for the night. I’d love some company.”

“Oh great! Uhm, I just have to go grab my stuff from backstage, but I’ll meet you there?” Your eyes hopeful and your gaze fixed on his.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds great! I’ll see you there!” He probably had a giddy smile on his face, a blush ever present on his cheeks when you were looking at him.

— —

When you had collected your bag, you had sent a quick message to Sian.

“Does love at first sight exist because if it doesnt then im just crazy i think”

“Girl what are you talking about? I thought you were just giving a presentation?”

“One of the attendees came up to me and we’re going to the bar!! Matching service who???”

“Please be careful. There’s way too many rando’s in this world”

He was already sitting at the bar when you’d arrived. He was looking at the bartender, but his leg was bouncing up and down at a rapid pace.

“Hi, doctor Reid, thanks for waiting,” you sat down on the stool next to him, his cologne invading your nostrils instantly. Your heart probably skipped a beat when you saw how he was looking at you, just with pure interest, which didn’t really happen a lot.

“That’s okay, I-uh, I didn’t know which drink you’d like, so I didn’t order yet, I’m sorry,” he said while looking down at his hands.

“Don’t apologize?” You questioned him, as you flagged the bartender, “a mojito and a…?”

“A beer,” he filled in the blank, pursing his lips.

“So, I do got to ask, why did you come to this event?” You said as the bartender placed the mojito in front of you, and taking a small sip.

Spencer’s heart probably skipped a beat. Oh yeah, I just came because I wanted to see you. I have this folder with all your personal information because apparently you’re my match. No, if he did something like that, he could forget all about you.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess I wanted to know more about acute crisis situations?”, you nodded, encouraging him to go on, “I work for the FBI and we deal a lot with smaller situations, and it’s really hard sometimes. So, it’s great to see that other people have the same struggles, but continue to do their job, even when situations get really shitty.”

You frowned your eyebrows in confusion, “wait an FBI agent? I didn’t know you needed a doctorate to qualify?”

“Well, I’m a profiler actually, for the behavioral analysis unit, so my knowledge of psychology, chemistry, engineering, philosophy and mathematics really comes in handy for most cases,” he took a sip of his beer, almost casually as your eyes widened.

“So you’re telling me, you, a guy with this much knowledge works for the FBI?”, your jaw was slacked as you looked at him, not even hiding how impressed you were, “you could probably work for major corporations and earn a boat load of money, and you chose this profession?”

This man that was sitting next to you, was leaving you with an impressed feeling the longer you talked to him. Even in the field you worked in, a lot of people were in it for the money and to then see him do this type of job, to help people?

“It’s just that, uh, I want to help people, and this is the best way I know how to help them,” he said as he studied your face for your reaction.

A small smile appeared on your face, which made him instantly happy. Most people didn’t understand why he chose to do this job, instead of working for big corporations and making big bucks.

“That’s an honourable way to live dr. Reid. Not many people have this integrity in this world.”

“Waste no more time arguing about what a good man should be. Be one,” he recited a quote he read once, getting a bit flustered that he was already quoting stuff in the first moments of meeting you. Well, at least he hadn’t started spouting random facts yet.

You took a sip from your cocktail, pondering about the quote, “I’m not really good with quotes I’m afraid,” scrunching your nose you guessed, “is this something Shakespearian?”

“Marcus Aurelius, actually.”

“Oof, that’s like not even in the ballpark,” flustered you dragged a hand over your face, “Hard core literature was always difficult to me.”

He shook his head vehemently, “no please, that was really niche. I just have an eidetic memory, so don’t worry,” he waved your concerns away, afraid of scaring you off. “The stuff you know about humanitarian aid is astonishing really.”

“It’s a passion turned into a job really, but thanks for the compliment.”

It was getting quite late already, most people getting a little too much to drink and getting rowdier by the second. Next to you, two guys were throwing back shots like they were water, and the table behind Spencer was doing some sort of drinking game, because three of the girls were singing along with the music, not getting the lyrics right at all.

Spencer was saying something to you, but you honestly didn’t understand a word he had said. The guys next to you were also starting to lean a little too close to you to be comfortable.

You leaned over and cupped you hand over his ear, “maybe we should take our drinks out by the pool?”

When Spencer had seen you leaner closer to him, everything stilled as he focused on your eyes that were getting prettier by the second. When you cupped your hand over his ear to say something, he felt your hot breath fan over his face and he felt a shiver going down his spine.

He swallowed hard as he listened to what you were saying, not really processing it as he felt his head nod.

You gave him a full smile as you stood up, saying something to the bartender about putting it on the tab and then beckoning him to follow you. He followed you out of the bar and into the garden of the hotel. Your perfume was invading his nostrils and the way your hair blowed in the wind made him do a double take.

“So, at least I can understand you now,” you sat down on a lounge chair, patting the spot next to you. “What were you saying back there?”

He sat down next to you, “um, I-I actually forgot.” He took a big gulp of his beer, not expecting to forget just about everything that was stored in this big ass brain of his.

You studied his face for a bit, looking at his sharp jawline, moving to his mess of curls that was styled just right and his brown eyes that were looking straight at you.

You got flustered immediately, opening your mouth to say something, as Spencer’s phone went off. You pressed the cold glass against your cheeks trying to get out of this daze that had you in its grip ever since you sat down at the bar.

He dug around in his pocket, biting on his lip, to get out this goddamn annoying piece of technology as he saw Penelope’s name on the screen.

This was his moment to get out of here. Even though he wanted to spend the rest of eternity with you, just sitting here at the pool and talking, he couldn't risk getting more involved with you. The more time he spent with you, the worse he felt about everything he had done to even get here. This was honestly stuff that could get you a restraining order - at best!

“Hello?”

“Reid! No worries, we don’t have a case, but I’m just letting you know that I’m throwing a small party for-“

“Yeah alright Penelope, I’ll get to the office as soon as possible!”

“Uh, Reid what? What’s happ-“

He ended the call, standing up a little too quickly, his head spinning a bit.

“Oh, uh, do you need to go?” You questioned as you got up as well, giving him a confused look.

“Yeah, we got a case, so I need to go,” he wrung his hands together, eyes wide and looking everywhere but your face.

“Yeah, yeah sure. I should probably go up as well, need to leave early in the morning so-,” you said with a dejected look on your face.

“I mean, I’ll walk with you to the elevator,” he offered when he noticed your look. He felt a bit bad with just leaving you, but he really couldn’t stay here with you looking at him like you never saw a more marvelous person sitting before you. If he stayed with you he probably would grab your face between his hands and kiss you with as much passion as he could.

You nodded, as you started walking towards the elevator. Spencer put his hands in his pockets, following you closely.

You pressed the button to call the elevator and waited patiently, staring at the numbers that were going down way too slowly. Jesus, what had gotten into you tonight? Asking out a random man, getting a drink with him and just staring at him? Why did you feel so miserable when you heard him end the call?

At the same time when you were experiencing this inner turmoil, Spencer was thinking about what he should do.

The elevator doors opened and a couple stumbled out, almost knocking you over. Spencer grabbed your arm to steady you. The warm grip on your upper arm gave you a tingly feeling all over your body and you held your breath for a second before muttering a small thank you, feeling a little flustered as you felt your cheeks warm up.

He pursed his lips, but didn’t make any move to let you go. When you peered up at him, the ding of the elevator signaling it would close, you finally said something.

“You can let go now dr. Reid,” chuckling lightly as he slowly unwrapped his fingers from your arm. Your arm felt instantly cold, and you caught yourself wishing he would keep holding you in some way or another. He flushed immediately, the harsh light in the elevator highlighting the red blush on his cheeks.

“What floor are you on?” Your fingers were hovering over the buttons.

He cleared his throat, but his voice was still a bit hoarse, “um, 18th floor.”

You nodded and pressed the 16th and 18th floor, rolling your lips together and staring at the floor.

Fuck, what should I do now? You thought as you spied on him in the mirror of the elevator. He was toying with ends of the purple scarf he was wearing.

You’d probably never see this guy again. You knew his name and that he worked for the FBI, but that was about it. You could probably call the main office, but for what reason? Oh yeah, your agent, the one with perfectly messy brown hair and eyes that were sparkling every time you gazed into them? Yeah I asked him out but forget to ask for his number, so could you give it to me?

The elevator was already at floor 14, when you finally spoke up, “I’d love to see you again, dr. Reid. You know, for uh- like work reasons?”

You cringed internally at what you said, but it was something at least. He peered over at you and then dug around in his pant pocket, getting out a battered brown wallet. The look on his face was one you couldn’t decipher, but Spencer knew exactly what he was feeling.

Even though he felt so conflicted, he couldn't stay away from you. You were his goddamn soulmate, for fuck's sake, of course he wants to stay in touch with you. Even when you found everything out - when, because it is bound to happen anyway - he at least got to spend some time with you, and some time was better than none.

He stretched out his hand, a business card between his fingers, “you know, for like work reasons.” A mischievous look in his eyes.

You let out a laugh and dug around in your own bag, getting out a pen and a used metro card as scrap paper, you wrote down your digits and gave it to him. “For business reasons, but you can also call after office hours.”

The elevator dinged again and you stepped past him, your hand brushing his and the tingly feeling was there again.

You got out of the elevator, said a soft goodbye and twirled his business card in your fingers, and he felt his heart lurch. When you then turned around to give him one last look with a curious glint in your eyes, head tilting slightly to the side before the elevator doors closed, he knew he was falling in love with you.

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Taglist: @measure-in-pain @trans-reader-fics @spencers-dria