#i really loved what you had to say about spencer's thought process

[bklynmusicnerd]

I love reading your perspective on gh, particularly Trina and Spencer. I love that you don’t stay on the surface level of what’s happening but think beyond that to the whys of it all. There’s a reason (when written well) Trina and Spencer move the way they do on the show and it’s important to take that into account when thinking about what they are doing, the decisions they are making. We all make decisions based off our knowledge and experiences. That’s going to inform a lot of decisions these characters make. We see that Spencer continues to be bothered by the break up of their friends group, first because of Esme and followed by the arrival of Dex, hence why he has smoke for days for these two among other reasons. They symbolize the fall of this friend group for Spencer so seeing them causes a visceral reaction and he wants to lash out. We have to remember Spencer has abandonment issues so change is hard for people like that. As we saw at the pool, making Trina happy eventually outweighed his anger towards the situation that at the end of the day he can’t do anything about and it’s just the new reality that’s he’s just gonna have to accept no matter how much it pains him to, as Trina said, “Let. It. Go.”

Thanks for the kind words, anon. Anything purely surface-level is boring to me so it's hard for to me to view any media in that way. I'm a big fan of looking at the "why" and exploring what makes characters tick. I like doing that with Trina and Spencer because I think, when they're written well, there's a lot more going on with them than the surface-level impressions of them as good, studious girl and wealthy bad boy. So that's fun for me to explore.

I also definitely agree with you on Spencer having animosity for Dex and Little Miss White Privilege because they exist as these damaging threats to their friend group. I really like this idea of Spencer seeing the friend group as like a second family for him. The quad of Nik, Lucky, Liz and Emily definitely functioned like a found family. And the friend group Spencer wants with Trina, Cam and Joss is probably never going to come to fruition like that. It's basically on life support after Little Miss White Privilege's antics and the Joss and Dex affair. Of course the reality is that if the friend group was really that strong, they would have survived Little Miss White Privilege and Dex easily.

So maybe Spencer is going through that phenomenon where it's easier to blame outside threats as opposed to looking at the internal weaknesses. It is good that Spencer finally had that moment of prioritizing maintaining peace for Trina when she needed it over picking a pointless fight. It was a solid contrast to his behavior at the beginning of the wedding. I did find it kind of interesting that Trina is basically telling Spencer to let it go and adapt to the new normal. Because she's also grappling with her own inability to let go.

She's lying to herself about Joss because she's afraid to face the new reality of what type of person her best friend is becoming. So, in a weird way, Spencer and Trina have similar hangups, Trina's passive approach to hers just comes across more functional than Spencer's combative approach.

[reidrum]

exile

note: happy december i hope ur all doing well <3 a little something to hold u over until next friday when i start 12 days of reidrumas ok love u

summary: in which you and JJ are the ones held hostage in truth or dare

cw: spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, hurt/comfort, angst, fem!reader, a heated makeout, reader wears a dress and heels, take a shot everytime reader tears up

wc: 3.6k

p.s. i am a glutton for praise if you couldn't tell from any of my fics but i love hearing what y'all think so plsplspls lemme know your thoughts in a comment or drop in my ask box!!!!

You’re not really sure where it went wrong.

When you joined JJ to pursue Casey, it was out of convenience. You both were simply closer to his last location. No one could’ve predicted he’d take you both hostage or make you play a twisted game of truth or dare at gunpoint.

No one could have predicted that Casey would force you and JJ to reveal details that hadn’t seen the light of day. He didn’t even care for those secrets, egging you both on to reveal something that would satisfy his masochistic itch. When he realizes that neither of you would break, he ups the ante by angling the gun to the middle of your head. JJ panics and speaks before she can even process what she said.

Because as you’re staring down the barrel of the gun clocked at your forehead, you realize the bullet isn’t inside the cylinder, it’s in JJ’s next words.

I’ve always loved Spencer.

You look at her mouth agape, blood draining from your face and tears springing to your eyes. She returns your gaze with one full of remorse and pity. To any onlooker, it would seem like a harmless confession. But they didn’t know the times you confided in JJ about your feelings for Spencer, the late nights at the office she’d stay with you giving advice and words of wisdom, when all JJ wanted was for her friend to be happy.

But now, how much of that can you believe to be true?

Casey seems to be satisfied with your reaction as he lowers his gun, with you reacting quickly grabbing your hidden second pistol and gunning him down. The only audible noise left is the heavy breathing of you both, the adrenaline rush starting to fade. JJ says your name remorsefully, but she’s interrupted by the rest of the team and police arriving to the scene.

The next thing you remember is sitting outside on the back of an ambulance rig, blankly staring out at your new reality. JJ loves Spencer.

You couldn’t compete, how could you? She was JJ. and you were, you. You had lost before you even began, you might as well toss the towel now.

It makes hugging Spence for what could be the last time—not to be dramatic—bittersweet. To know that this is an insignificantly normal moment he won’t remember, but one that you’ll play on repeat for the rest of your life.

Spencer holds you close into his chest with his arm smoothing out your back, “Thank god you’re okay, are you hurt?”

You scoff internally. Yes, but not in a way that can be fixed. In a way that you are not privy to yet, but once you are it will rip us to shreds.

“I’m fine, just a few scratches.”

He nods while examining you with his own mental checklist, “Okay, if your head starts hurting or your vision gets blurry you need to tell the EMT.” you nod as he adds on, “I’m gonna go check on JJ, you’ll be okay?”

No, no I won’t. There is no reality that exists where I can be okay anymore.

“I’m good. Go.”

He squeezes your shoulders and with another nod he walks over to where JJ rests on another ambulance rig, her arms instantly opening to welcome Spencer’s warm embrace. His back is facing you and JJ’s face rests over his shoulder, her eyes meeting yours in a look of sadness, grief. You look away before you can read more into it.

Wrapping the foil blanket around you tighter you let your head fall back and stare at the night sky, hoping there was a message out in the stars that would tell you what to do.

Your relationship with Spencer was, on the surface, nothing more than a friendship. He had joined the BAU only a year prior to you and when you came along it was clear from the first second that you two would be inseparable. Small talks in the bullpen quickly turned into mornings spent at the coffee shop, into weekly movie nights debating the superior science fiction franchise, to holding his hand when he needed a friend.

To Spencer, you were his anchor. Through all the trials and tribulations his life had dealt him, he knew he didn’t need to worry so much as long as you were around.

To you, Spencer was all consuming. He was threaded through every neuron and vessel in your body, intricately and impossibly tethered to you that it would take the work of the divine to painfully separate him from you.

Or, one Jennifer Jaraeu.

You don’t even realize tears are falling down your face until the EMT taps your shoulder and asks if anything has started to hurt again. Quickly shaking your head, you unravel yourself from the foil blanket and hand it back to her. You spare one last glance back at Spencer and JJ, eyes immediately zeroing on their joined hands, his thumb gently brushing the top of hers.

Your feet trudge you back to where the team is set up, one look to Emily and she’s already excusing herself from her conversation. She walks over to you phone up to her ear, saying something about you. You’re not really sure, it’s all water noise.

“Anderson will be here in about five minutes to take you home,”

You nod silently, not willing to make eye contact. Emily could sense your turmoil from a mile away, chalk it up to the Pisces moon in her but behind the hard exterior she put up there lay Emily, your empathetic friend who just wanted to hug your shattered pieces back together.

“You’ll be okay?” The second time you’ve been asked, your answer is still unchanged.

No. “Yeah.”

She sighs knowingly. The reason the two of you were such close friends was because of your similar ability to remain emotionally bottled up until it was too late, resulting in an outburst enough to take out armies and yourselves.

Anderson honks the car as he pulls up, alerting you of his arrival. Emily looks from the car back to you,  “I should go check on JJ.”

“Woman of the hour, it seems.” you chuckle under your breath.

Emily gives you that look, the conflicted ‘I’m sorry our friend made you feel this way, I still have to check on her.” look.

You brush her off, your casualness hopefully sending the message that the situation isn’t that deep. For her, you think.

The sound of the car unlocking rings through your ear as you hop in the passenger seat. Anderson tries to make small talk with you to no success, settling for the late night 00s radio station as he pulls up to your house, driving off as you bid him goodnight with a wave.

The breeze of your empty apartment greets you as you open the door, the air chillier than you’d expect for the season. You tug your shoes off harshly, placing your keys on the mail table next to the door. Your heart drops as you catch sight of a floral embossed card lying on top of your mail on the table.

Rossi’s wedding.

The one you were told to absolutely prioritize, the one in which JJ had helped you find a dress for, the one where you hoped you’d feel brave enough to tell Spencer how you truly felt.

You sigh deeply knowing you still had to show up and look presentable tomorrow despite being held hostage only 24 hours prior. But, maybe this is how you make a clean break. All this time you’ve been in love with Spencer and nothing has happened, despite all the signs you think you’re giving him. Maybe this is the opportunity to save Spencer from further tension, albeit unknown to him at this point, and let him finally be happy.

You knew about the Redskins game, how excited he was to go with JJ and yet it turned into something he hadn’t anticipated. You were new to the BAU at the time but your heart still ached for him, unable to understand how anyone would pass up on someone so special like Spencer Reid. It seems she’s finally come to her senses.

You take your dead phone out of your pocket to place it on the charger and you head into the bathroom to take a quick shower. The hot water loosens your tense muscles enough to prick tears in the back of your eyes, and you turn off the water before you can get too worked up. Once you’ve dried off you check on your phone on the bedside table seeing it’s turned back on, a flurry of missed texts and calls showing up.

11:14PM - Emily: Get home safe?

You heart the message and reply with a simple ‘Yes.’, scrolling to the next messages.

10:09PM - JJ:  Did you get home? 10:10PM - Missed Call from JJ 10:15PM - (2) Missed Calls from JJ 10:24PM - JJ:  I’m sorry, please let me explain. 10:25PM - Missed Call from JJ

You consider leaving her on read, not willing to entertain a conversation at this point, but you settle for an ‘It’s fine.’ for the sake of having communicated your safety.

10:13PM - Spence: Hey, where are you? 10:20PM - Spence: The EMT said you took off? Did you leave? 11:34PM - Spence: Emily just told me Anderson drove you back. You could’ve told me, I would have taken you home.

Your chuckle sadly at the text, Spencer hated driving but he would do it for you. It almost makes you think that your relationship could withstand the harsh weathering it’s been subjected to.

12:07AM - You: Sorry, phone died. I’m home now.

A response dings through a minute later.

12:08AM - Spence: I’ll go to the store tomorrow and get you a portable charger to keep in your bag. You should get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow for the wedding right? Well, the wedding that’s today seeing as it’s past midnight. You know what I mean.

A single tear falls down your face at his rambling words. Oh, how you’d miss this once he learns what’s really happened.

12:10AM - You: I’ll be there. See you tomorrow, or today? You know what I mean. Good night.

12:11AM - Spence: Good night :)

—

You smooth out your dress before going up the steps, making eyes with Penelope at the top. You’re wearing a silk chiffon dress in purple, deliberately picked for Spencer’s favorite color, some strappy heels and some dainty jewelry painting you in as the picture of elegance.

“Hey hot stuff, look at you!” Penelope exclaims squeezing you tightly, “You look sooo pretty, doesn’t she look so pretty?” she gestures to the two men behind her you now acknowledge to be Luke and Spencer.

“Like a dream.” Luke agrees.

“Yeah,” Spencer clears his throat, “You look…beautiful.”

Penelope the Oracle of All Time quickly senses the 

atmosphere created and grabs Luke’s forearm, “Come on, you owe me that dance now!” She looks back and slyly gives you a thumbs up before dragging Luke further onto the dance floor.

Spencer slips into the vacated space to be right next to you, “How are you feeling?”

You know he’s asking about how you were held hostage at gunpoint, and not about how he’s about to become the loss of your life.

“ ‘M fine,” you swirl your champagne glass, “You?”

“Better now.”

A ghost of a smile creeps up on you, but you don’t let it travel further than that. He’s just being nice.

“Well, I’m just going to find the bathroom really quick.”

He holds a hand out for your glass, “Here, I’ll hold it.”

Your smile returns with bearings this time as you wander off in search of the bathroom. You’d feel embarrassed by how long it took you to find it but this place was massive, the Rossi money ran deep. Retracing your steps back to the main room you find Spencer and your glass not in the same place he was when you left. You scan the room looking for him and finally find him deep in conversation with—oh.

They’re too far for you to be able to hear them, but you can imagine that it’s the conversation. You watch JJ squeeze his forearm with affection and suddenly you can’t take it anymore. You couldn’t stand there and watch yourself become collateral in real time. Spencer turns at the sound of rustling up the spiral staircase followed by a door closing, catching the last glimpse of purple before it vanishes.

Spencer feels sick. He’s overwhelmed and overstimulated at the new information he’s learned about what really happened in the gas station. Then he comes to the realization of how walking in on him and JJ talking must have made you feel. His feet are carrying him up the stairs before he even realizes he’s made the choice. 

He finds you at the end of the hallway and calls out your name with a firmness you’d never heard from him. But you’ve cut all the strings of sanity by now, and you whip around and snap, “What?”

He doesn’t like that tone. “JJ told me what happened.”

You snort and don’t meet his eyes, “Oh, did she?”

His brows furrow, “Yes, she did.”

“And?”

“And what?”

And what? Is he serious? Did you have to spell it out for him? It borderlines sadist the way he’s putting you through the ringer.

“What happens now, Spencer?” you exasperate, “Is this the part where you tell me we can’t be friends anymore because she finally confessed?”

Confusion colors his face more, “Why wouldn’t we be friends?”

A halfway scream—groan leaves your throat in frustration. “Spencer, come on.”

“Honey, I don’t understand—“

“That! See, you can’t just say things like that knowing what has to happen, and expect me to react like a normal person.” you exclaim with hands flailing.

“I’m really confused—“

“Because I’m in love with you!” you cry, “Now do you see why?”

Time all but stills in the hallway you’ve found yourselves in. You don’t know how long you’ve been up here. It’s a little farther down from the stairways so there’s no threat of evesdroppers, but with how worked up you’re getting the proximity renders itself useless. The faint muffle of animated conversations and lively jazz music fills the silence between you and Spencer, who looks like…well, actually for once you can’t decipher what he’s feeling. 

He looks like he’s about to open his mouth when you both turn your head to the ascending footsteps—JJ looking for you, or Spencer probably, to come cut the cake. Spencer darts his eyes between the walls, a nervous tic you’d caught on to, before you realize he’s looking for a door and pulling you inside one. You yelp at the unexpected force and quickly quiet down again. The light switches on and based on the furniture you conclude that it’s a powder room, because of course Rossi’s venue has a powder room.

It’s a tiny room, big enough for a vanity table and a chaise lounge. Small enough to not have any room to leave without going past him. You stand an arm’s length away from him, the faint muffles of talk and music replaced by your sniffling. You shouldn’t have come, you start to realize. Having to say goodbye to him in person might actually rip you apart. Your chest weighs heavy with that familiar sad irony of mourning someone who hasn’t even told you they’re leaving yet. Preemptive measures that turned into routine practice. 

You sniffle, “Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, not that it ever did. I’m sorry I just sprung it on you like that, that was unfair. JJ…I thought JJ was my friend, I guess she is still but I’m not too sure now. But…she’s JJ and I’m just me and I know both of your pasts with each other so obviously it would be her. I’m making this too big a deal, I think. I just want you to be happy, in whatever capacity that looks like and I know it’s not with me so—“

Spencer stops your rambling by silently reaching out for your arm to pull you right in front of him, his hands reach to cup your face up to his, thumbs naturally swiping away the tears. He says your name like a coo, with a softness and delicacy you don’t feel you deserve right now. It hurts your heart entirely.

“Please don’t make this harder than it is.” you whisper through soft sobs.

You don’t know when it happens. Maybe in between scrunching your eyes or staring at your feet—but it happens. A cold pressure, then warmth, his lips are warm when he kisses you. A little surprising that he still tastes like Penelope’s sugary mocktail from earlier. A welcome pressure on your face as he holds you in place, as if you’d slip away further if he let go.

He stills in place, thinking he’s overstepped, until you finally remember that his lips are on your lips. You return the force back with as much as he gave you and let your arms loop around his neck, his own sliding from your face to take purchase on your hips.

That’s when Spencer starts kissing you. His hands grip your hips and tug you even closer as he deepens the kiss, plunging deeper back into the plush of your thighs to sit you on top of the vanity table. He slots himself between your legs, your hands wandering up to tug at the hairs on the nape of his neck. A soft groan leaves his throat and he detaches from your lips to amble down your neck, leaving a trail of lovebites in its wake.

This is wrong, like so wrong. You’re practically opening a salt box and pouring its entire contents on your wounds. But dammit, if this is the only time you’ll ever get to kiss Spencer, you’re sure as hell going to make the most out of the fleeting moment.

He mumbles something in between kisses to your neck, you instinctively ask him to say it again not expecting a response, and you immediately regret it as you feel his presence get lighter as he pulls away.

One more kiss to the spot behind your ear, he feels you preening below him and makes note of this—amongst everything else—for later, he pulls back to meet your eyes again.

“I love you.”

Your face drops, “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not being funny.”

Yes he is, he has to be. Because the universe in which Spencer Reid allows a piece of—the whole of it according to him, unbeknownst to you—his heart to be fully yours is not this one. You’ve never had luck like that.

“Then you’re lying to me, and that’s worse.” your voice cracks, Spencer feels the same crack imprinted on his heart.

“Sweetheart, I’m not lying. I love you.” He says it again to your surprise, the tenderness of his touch returning as he deliberates how to disarm you. The defensiveness you have isn’t surprising to him, it’s the note of insecurity in your tone he isn’t ready for, like you are unable to even believe it could be you. 

You’re a dandelion, he thinks, the puffballs teetering attachment to their base with one wrong move sending them astray into the wind. He’s wading treacherous weather but he finds that for you he’d do anything and everything eyes closed if he had to.

“…Really?” you ask meekly. He nods slowly, never breaking his gaze on you. “But…JJ.”

His eyes soften and he nods in understanding, “There was a point in my life where, yes that was all I was waiting to hear,” he starts, “But, I am no longer at that point in my life anymore. I’m here now. She knows that.”

You’re unconvinced, Spencer can see it clear as day. Maybe it’s more apprehensive than unconvinced, but no one could blame you. How are you to believe anything when you went through what you did in the last 24 hours? You look defeated if anything, like you’d accepted your fate of always coming second place.

Spencer racks his brain hard trying to think of a way to show you that the podium doesn’t even exist, it’s only ever been you.

He pulls out his wallet and rifles through the many things inside, finding what he’s looking for before handing it to you. You look up at him in confusion when you make it out to be a movie ticket stub from the Korean film festival you’d both attended a little after you started at the BAU, the first time the two of you ever spent time together. The edges are soft and smoothed out as a result of time, like it’s been held and comforted for many days.

“There’s more in my apartment.”

“Movie ticket stubs?” you ask bemused.

“Commemorations of you,” his fingers brush the span of your arm up and down soothingly, “I probably have something for every time we’ve ever hung out. If it reminds me of you, I have it.”

Tears well up in your eyes for the umpteenth time, a few spilling over rapidly.

“Hey no, you’re not supposed to cry at that.” he whispers softly between you, his thumb taking the rightful and familiar place under your eye to catch the tears.

You shake your head, “I don’t think I’ve ever been loved like this.”

His heart tightens, “No? Well, I think you have to get used to it now.”

“No choice?” you pout.

He catches the timbre of humor in your voice and smiles widely. He hugs you tightly, pressing your head into his chest, “I guess you don’t have to. Just because you’re not used to it doesn’t mean I’ll stop. If you’re like this now, wait till you see the box I have of our things.”

You sniffle again, your head reeling as your tears stain his shirt and the scent of him invades your being. It’s overwhelming and all consuming, just how you know Spencer to be. He doesn’t expect you to believe him right away, you’ve been through so much that it would be unfair to ask that of you. You don’t know what tomorrow holds, or even the rest of this night, but one thing you have learned is that to Spencer you are known, and therefore you are loved.

[incognit0slut]

Doctor Reid

PART 2 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Established Relationship Your boyfriend finally agrees to indulge in your fantasy by playing a very different kind of doctor, but on his own terms.

Content: (18+) 4k, roleplay, lingerie, finger sucking, nipple play, fingering, female oral, edging, soft!dom as per usual and him being what you guys like to call ‘a little shit’ a/n: season 12 Spencer can stay between my thighs all day every day. also, i have no knowledge on any medical terms this is just ✨vibes✨

10:34 AM

The box was heavier than you’d expected. It had been weeks since you’d ordered it—weeks of wondering if this would even get here without some awkward explanation. You’d agonized over every little detail, scrolling through pages of different costumes, wondering which stethoscope looked the most real.

And now it was finally here.

You didn’t waste a second. Your fingers worked quickly, ripping through the tape and cardboard until the contents spilled out. A crisp, folded white coat with perfectly pressed lapels and a stethoscope. And it was a real one, with cool metal tubing that felt heavy and authentic in your hand. Everything looked even better than you’d imagined.

You barely took the time to fold back the box flaps before hurrying to the next room, where your boyfriend sat comfortably on the couch, idly thumbing through a book.

“Spencer!” Your voice practically sang in excitement. “It’s here!”

He glanced up and lowered his book. "What's here?"

You grinned, bouncing on your toes as you closed the distance between you. "The doctor is officially in," you declared, holding up the white coat like a trophy, the stethoscope dangling from your other hand.

You watched as realization dawned across his face as he blinked a few times, processing the items in your hands, before letting out a soft, amused huff.

"Wow," he said slowly. "You really went all out."

"Of course I did,” you affirmed, grinning from ear to ear as you held the coat up to his chest, sizing him up as though he were already playing the part. “And it’s perfect.”

He leaned back into the couch, trying to put some distance between him and your infectious enthusiasm. “You know I’m not much of an actor.”

“Baby,” you drawled out, emphasizing the pet name with that affectionate tone you knew worked like a charm on him. It was the same sweet voice you used when you wanted something, the kind that could coax just about anything from him. “You’re not trying to win the Oscars, it’s sex. I promise you’ll like it.”

He shook his head like he was the most put-upon boyfriend in the world, letting out a mock sigh of exasperation, though the faint smile playing at the corners of his lips betrayed him. He closed his book and set it aside.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said at last, dragging the word out as though it physically pained him to say it. “If we do this on my own terms.”

“Your own terms? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see. And,” he reached out, pinching the collar of the coat between his fingers. “I’m not wearing that.”

You pouted. “What, you don’t want to look like a real doctor?”

“I think I can pull it off without the costume.” He flashed you a smile. “I’m technically still a doctor.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Your multiple doctorates don’t exactly qualify you for this, Doctor Reid.”

“I thought having six degrees would be enough for anything.”

“Too bad none of them is needed now,” you shot back, poking a finger at his chest playfully. “The role I’m thinking of requires a different kind of expertise. More…” You paused, pretending to mull it over, “Hands-on. Less theoretical.”

The laugh he let out was short and incredulous, his eyebrows raising as if he couldn’t believe your persistence. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

You sighed dramatically. “Babyyyy.”

“You know, one of these days that tone isn’t going to work on me.”

“Oh, please, you love it,” you taunted, leaning in closer. “And don’t act like you’re not curious about this.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons, debating just how far he’d let you push him. And then there it was, that spark in his eyes. Faint but undeniable—the one that told you he was already half convinced, even if he pretended otherwise.

“Alright, fine,” he finally conceded. “I’ll play along.”

The grin you wore was at least a mile wide as you shoved the stethoscope into his hand.

1:52 PM

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Spencer looked up from his stack of papers, and as soon as he saw you standing there, dressed in nothing but lacy lingerie that clung to every curve, his mouth fell open. He blinked, trying to process the sight. Because yes, while you looked incredibly sexy, he was still baffled.

“Since when does a patient wear... that?"

You stepped closer, letting his eyes follow your every move as you shrugged with a hint of feigned innocence in your smile. "Well, I thought I'd save you some time, you know? Make it easier for your examination."

"Mm-hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his desk. "I'm not so sure this is standard procedure. I think you might be bending the rules here."

"Maybe. But I'm sure Doctor Reid can make a special exception, right?“

You shifted slightly, arching your back just enough to draw his attention. His eyes dropped to your chest, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat as he noticed the way your nipples strained against the sheer, barely-there fabric of your lingerie. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile, but it broke through anyway. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face.

“Of course,” he finally replied. “I think I can be persuaded.”

With that, he leaned forward, sweeping his documents to the side in one smooth motion, before patting the now-cleared space on the desk in front of him.

“Take a seat, Miss,” he said, his voice turning low and authoritative that lit a spark of excitement inside you. “Let’s get started.”

You bit your bottom lip, fighting back a grin as the cool wood of the desk pressed against the backs of your thighs. You watched Spencer stand up and slip between your legs, his hands finding your knees and spreading them just enough to close the distance until the heat of his body was flushed against yours.

“So, tell me,” he started, his voice lowering as he fell into the role. “What seems to be the problem today?”

A flutter of nerves danced in your stomach, and suddenly you were very aware of what was happening. You’d initiated this—had begged for it, even—but it was something entirely different now that Spencer was towering over you. The confidence you’d felt earlier wavered for just a moment as his palms ran slowly up your thighs.

“I, uh,” your voice faltering slightly as his hands continued their slow journey. “I… I haven’t been feeling well.”

His fingers brushed lightly against the frills of your lingerie, teasing the lace between his fingers as he maintained eye contact. “Any symptoms I should know about? Dizziness? Shortness of breath?”

You nodded, heart pounding in your chest as his thumb traced small circles over the fabric. “All of the above.”

“I see.” His eyes flickered down to your lips. “Can you open your mouth for me?”

Slowly, you parted your lips, and the moment you did, Spencer’s hand came up to your chin. He tilted your head back gently, exposing the graceful line of your throat.

“I’m going to run a few tests now.” He paused, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip. “It might feel intense, but I need you to stay relaxed and follow my instructions. Can you do that, Miss?”

You nodded as best as you could, mouth still open, and he gave you a small, approving smile.

“Stick your tongue out for me, just a little bit.”

You followed his instructions, extending your tongue just far enough to meet his touch. His eyes gleamed with focus as he brought his thumb to your mouth, pressing it lightly against your tongue.

“Hm,” he hummed, his eyes still fixed on your mouth like he was about to make a serious diagnosis. “I think I might be starting to see the problem here. But I need to check one more thing. Can you close your mouth around my finger?”

You complied, your lips wrapping around his thumb, feeling the rough pad of it pressing down on your tongue.

“Good,” he sighed, the approval in his voice like a reward in itself. “Now try giving it a gentle suck.”

You could feel the tension rising in you. Your cheeks hollowed as you did what he asked, and you couldn’t help but think back to the hesitation in his voice earlier, the way he’d claimed he wasn’t sure about this, that he wasn’t good at playing roles. You would’ve laughed if your mouth wasn’t occupied.

But you were an obedient patient, after all. You started sucking lightly, feeling the weight of his thumb resting against your tongue. There was something undeniably arousing about how he watched you, eyes heavy with focus, and that steady weight of his finger as he pretended to assess your reaction.

The first rush of arousal made itself known between your legs. You gradually increased the pressure, and before you knew it, you were bobbing your head. But just as you fell into a steady rhythm, his hand tightened on your chin to stop you.

“Just as I suspected,” he murmured after a moment, pulling his thumb away slightly to speak. “You’re suffering from an acute sensitivity.”

You swallowed, eyes wide as you played along, trying to keep your composure despite the heat pooling low in your stomach. “Is… is that serious?”

“I’ll need to do a further examination to understand the extent of your condition,” he mused, his eyes flickering between your face and your body as if assessing you before he straightened up slightly. “Let’s check your vitals now.”

He reached behind you, fingers brushing your lower back as he grabbed the stethoscope that had been sitting on the desk all day, the one you’d practically begged him to use. His expression turned serious, as though he were truly diagnosing you, and he leaned in close, pressing the flat side of the stethoscope against the pulse point on your neck.

“Deep breaths,” he instructed softly. You inhaled sharply, feeling the tension coil tighter in your chest as the cool metal made contact with your skin. “Your heart rate is definitely elevated.”

He moved the stethoscope lower, brushing it along your collarbone, before pressing it just above your heart. You felt the thump, thump, thump of your pulse echo through the metal.

“Definitely fast,” he noted. “We might need to find out what’s causing such a reaction.”

And before you could respond, without warning, he moved the stethoscope lower, pressing the cold metal against your nipple. You let out a soft, involuntary moan as the sensation caught you off guard.

“Ah,” he muttered, tilting his head as if he were genuinely analyzing your response, his thumb grazing the lace-covered peak around the stethoscope. “I think we’ve found one of the pressure points.”

You watched as his fingers trailed up to the edge of your lingerie, dragging his knuckles along the lace before he tugged the fabric down, letting your breast spill free. Without a word, he pressed the stethoscope directly against your bare nipple. The sudden contact made you jolt, your back arching as a quiet whimper slipped from your lips, and your nipple hardened instantly under the cold metal.

“Heightened sensitivity to stimuli.” He moved the stethoscope in small circles. “Very, very responsive.”

His eyes flickered down as he used his free hand to tug down the other side of your lingerie, exposing your other breast. You tried to keep your cool, tried to pretend like his touch wasn’t turning you inside out, but it was getting harder by the second. And God, he knew it. The way he played with your other nipple, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger like he had all the time in the world, was enough to make your thoughts scatter.

You tried so hard to keep your composure, but then he gently pinched and tugged on your sensitive nub, and a soft, breathy whine escaped your lips before you could stop it. With a satisfied grin, he pulled away.

You blinked, momentarily dazed. “What—?” you breathed out. “Why did you stop?”

“Medical procedure,” he said simply, his tone so casual it almost made you forget the heat of his touch moments earlier. “It’s important to give the patient time to stabilize.”

You shot him a bewildered, almost exasperated look that said are you serious right now? But he just smiled that slow, self-assured smile of his. He was clearly enjoying this far too much.

“We’re doing this my way, remember?”

You huffed in mock annoyance. “Really? That’s how we’re playing this?”

He brushed his lips on your shoulder. “That’s how we’re playing."

5:22 PM

“Doctor Reid?”

Spencer glanced up from where he was pouring himself a cup of coffee. He raised an eyebrow, casually stirring a hefty amount of sugar, the spoon clinking softly against the mug. “Hmm?”

The coolness of the counter pressed against your back as you watched him. “I think it’s getting worse.”

He didn’t say anything right away, just let his gaze rake over you, taking note of the way the thin fabric of your lingerie clung to your skin.

“Worse, how?” he finally asked, setting his mug down.

“It’s… spreading.”

“Spreading?” He mused. “Where, exactly?”

“Everywhere.” Your fingers nervously toyed with the hem of your lingerie, lifting it just enough to show a glimpse of bare skin beneath. “I really need your help, Doctor.”

His eyes immediately zeroed in on the sliver of skin you revealed. You watched as the realization flashed across his face. The corner of his mouth twitched as though he was fighting back a satisfied smirk, and you knew then that he’d taken the bait—he had to confirm just how bare you really were.

“Come here,” he ordered softly. He stepped back from the counter just enough to make space. “If it’s spreading, I have to conduct a full-body assessment.”

You slowly made your way to him with shaky legs.

“Up,” he instructed, giving the counter a gentle pat before letting his hands settle on your hips. “Sit.”

The cool marble touched the backs of your thighs as you hoisted yourself up. Then, without warning, Spencer’s hands were on your legs. He grabbed your calves, and before you could even catch your breath, he maneuvered your knees apart, placing the palms of your feet flat onto the countertop.

His eyes dropped between your legs, and the sight of you completely bare, your pussy lips glistening under the dim light, confirmed what he’d suspected. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he took in every detail, the way you were flushed, open, and dripping.

“Is there a reason,” he began slowly, his voice dropping to that dangerously soft, detached tone. “Why you’re not wearing anything underneath?”

“I… I thought it might make the examination easier.”

He smiled. “How considerate.”

Then with painstaking slowness, Spencer used both thumbs to part your folds, spreading you open completely to his gaze. It was almost clinical, the way he did it, as if he were studying you like some fascinating experiment. And it was working. You could feel the heat of embarrassment rushing in your veins. God, he had you spread open like this in your kitchen counter, and all you could think was how absolutely shameless this was.

He took his time, of course. Because why wouldn’t he? Spencer Reid didn’t rush experiments. No, he would spend all the time in the world analyzing, learning, committing every detail to memory. And right now, that focus was on you. He dragged his fingertips through your arousal, spreading it leisurely over your folds like he was testing its consistency, as if that slick heat was something he could measure and quantify.

And all you could do was hold your breath.

“I have to say,” he started again, his voice low and taunting as his fingers slid back and forth slowly, grazing just over your entrance without actually dipping inside. “You’re overly lubricated. Are you always like this?”

You exhaled a long breath, trying to steady the rapid rhythm of your heart. “Y-Yes.”

Spencer's smile deepened, his gaze never leaving your face as he pressed just a bit harder, testing your reaction. “Interesting. Do you get this wet from just a little touch, or does it have to be… more?”

“J-Just a little,” you admitted, hips instinctively shifting toward his fingers.

“Mmm,” he hummed approvingly, and finally—finally—he let his finger slide just inside your entrance, only to stop right there, buried to the first knuckle. He didn’t move any further. “Is that all it takes? Or do you need more to truly feel the effects?”

“I...” You let out a whimper when his finger twitched inside you. "M-More."

“And how much more, exactly? One finger? Two?”

“Two,” you gasped, every coherent thought slipping away under his touch. “Two… Doctor.”

A satisfied smile tugged at his lips, and without another word, he obliged, slipping a second finger inside you. The stretch made you bite back a moan as you felt every inch of him dragging against your inner walls. You couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, pulling him deeper as your slick arousal coated every thrust.

“You’re even more responsive than I thought,” he noted, adjusting his angle to brush against that sensitive spot inside you. “Your partner must enjoy this… a lot.”

He was playing his role all too well. Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter as his speed picked up. "He... He does," you breathed out. "He—he loves it."

Spencer hummed thoughtfully. "Good," he said softly, almost as if to himself. "Because this is a very special condition that requires a great deal of attention. And I'm sure that you need all the attention you can get, don't you?"

“Yes,” you sighed, nodding frantically as the pleasure built in steady waves. “I… I need it.”

"I thought so. Patients with your symptoms typically respond very well to intensive treatment."

With that, his fingers began to thrust deeper, faster, harder. The sensation of his long fingers stretching you had you moaning as you felt every drag, every inch while he continued to work you open. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more intense, he pressed a thumb firmly against your clit.

“Oh, fuck.”

He circled your swollen nub in slow, delicious patterns, and your body clenched around his fingers. This was it. You could feel it. The way your pulse pounded in your ears, the heat pooling deep in your core, every sensation building higher and higher. You could feel that sweet, sweet edge approaching, so close you could practically taste it—

And then he stopped.

Everything. Stopped.

“Spencer!”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t rush to soothe the ache in your body. He simply slid his fingers out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing.

“Open your mouth.”

You parted your lips, and he slipped his fingers inside, letting you taste yourself. The mix of your own slick and the heat of his skin made you moan softly, your tongue swirling around his fingers

“You see, you can be very responsive,” he commented in a low, measured tone. “But I think we should take a break, rushing the treatment would only compromise the results.”

He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world, like he wasn’t purposefully doing this to drive you insane. You wanted to laugh, and you did. But it was a defeated, breathless sort of laugh around his fingers, because you knew the man settled between your thighs still held all the power over you.

08:56 PM

“Babe?”

He laughed softly, not even glancing up from the book he was reading. “No more Doctor?”

You ignored the amusement in his voice as you walked up to the bed where he lay sprawled out, so casually composed, flipping another page like he hadn’t spent the entire day driving you mad. You reached the edge of the mattress, shadow casting over him, and his eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.

“I wanna cum.”

Spencer’s smile widened, the kind that made your stomach flip with both excitement and irritation, and he placed the book down beside him. His hand reached out lazily to brush your thigh.

“Yeah?” he drawled, tilting his head to the side. “Does my sweet girl want to be taken care of?”

You nodded eagerly. “Please.”

“Well, I do like it when you ask nicely,” he muttered, one hand sliding up to grip your waist. “And you’ve been very patient all day.”

“I have.”

“I think you deserve it.”

“I do.”

He let out an amused laugh. “Alright, lay down on the bed.”

You didn’t hesitate. You quickly shifted, lying back against the pillows. Spencer’s hands were on you immediately, gripping your thighs and dragging you toward the edge of the mattress. The room spun for a moment when he settled onto his knees. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, his fingers squeezing your calf as he pressed a soft, teasing kiss against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Comfortable?”

You nodded, and just as the breath left your lungs, his fingers brushed against the slick, wet folds of your pussy. He traced the outline of your lips gently, gathering the moisture that had been building all day.

“Poor baby,” he cooed sympathetically, his breath ghosting over your wetness. And just when you thought you couldn’t take another moment of teasing, he pressed his tongue flat against you and licked a long strip from your entrance to your clit.

A desperate whine escaped your lips. “Please…”

Spencer didn’t miss a beat. He licked another long, languid strip to your clit, swirling his tongue around it before flattening it again, dragging slowly just to savor the way you trembled beneath him. One of his hands gripped your thigh firmly, keeping your leg steady over his shoulder, while the other slid underneath, lifting your hips closer to his mouth.

And when he finally wrapped his lips around your clit again, pulling it into his mouth with a gentle suck, a choked moan tore from your throat.

“Spencer,” you whimpered. “Oh god…”

The vibration of his low groan reverberated through you. His fingers gripped your thighs tightly, holding you open and pinned beneath him. You weren’t sure what was more overwhelming. The sensation of his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit or the wet, obscene sounds of him slurping against your soaked folds. Either way, it was driving you wild, pushing you closer and closer to that edge where everything blurred and all you could do was feel.

And then his tongue shifted, dipping lower to probe your entrance. He pushed inside, exploring, seeking, like he was determined to reach every possible inch of you. And damn it, it felt like he could. Each thrust and twist of his tongue sent a surge of delicious heat through your body, and you couldn’t help the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders, squeezing him tighter.

You could barely breathe as the tension coiled tighter, so fucking tight you thought you might snap. And he knew it—he could feel it, the way your walls clenched around his tongue, the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders. And still, he didn’t let up, thrusting his tongue into you deeper, faster, while his nose rubbed insistently against your clit.

He kept going, over and over, tasting you like you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. It was too much and yet not enough, and soon you couldn’t stop the desperate chant of his name spilling from your lips. You weren’t even sure what you were pleading for anymore—more? mercy?—all you knew was that you on the brink of falling apart.

One last stroke was enough to shatter you completely.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you came, but with the way he was working you over, you didn’t stand a chance. The moment you felt yourself tip over, everything broke—your body tensed, your back arched sharply off the bed, and a loud moan tore from your lips. It was like your body had a mind of its own, hips grinding desperately against his mouth as if seeking every last bit of friction you could steal.

And when you finally came down, you were a breathless, panting mess. Spencer gave your clit one final, teasing suck, before he pulled back. He crawled up your body, hands sliding up your sides to push your lingerie higher. Gentle, warm kisses tickled your stomach as he threw you a smug look that only he could pull off.

“How was that,” he murmured, pausing to kiss just beneath your ribs. “For your little fantasy?”

Mind-blowing. Intense. Better than I imagined.

“Well,” you managed to say, fingers tangling into his hair. “If that’s how you plan on treating me, Doctor, I might just have to get sick more often.”

Spencer’s lips curved into a knowing smirk against your skin, and he nipped gently at your side.

“I think it’s best for you to do a regular check-up, then,” he teased, letting his lips ghost over your skin as he crawled further up, settling his body over yours. “Doctor’s orders.”

You couldn’t stop the soft, breathless laugh that escaped your lips as you pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his mouth.

You’d be more than happy to comply.

[mariasont]

Hii! I saw this gif earlier today and I literally had a brain wave of an idea for fan fic!

Based off this gif below. S2!reid x reader. Reader has called off sick for a few days now and Spencer has been “looking after them” (ifyky) and one of bau members actually comes to help them with their “sickness” and sees Spencer leave like the gif below and he is like “hey.. wow” awkward! (Can be light smug or implied, up to you!!)

Looking After You - S.R

a/n: um i loved writing this one tehe, ur mind is amazing and i thank you for trusting me to make it come to life

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smutsy, spencer giving head (i just know that man gives the best head i really can't think about it for long), reader is sick (kind of), morgan and garcia being nosy per usual

wc: 1k

His mouth was on you, head between your thighs as you pulled at his hair, whining his name between moans. He was a genius, yes of course in the literal sense, but you meant in bed. He was perfect and he ate you out like he was a man starving and this was his first meal in weeks.

You had been down with a cold for the past couple of days, finally seeing the end of the tunnel after some help from Spencer. You had been surprised when he showed up at your door with a plethora of home remedies and even more surprised when one of those remendies included his mouth being glued to your cunt.

Each breath you took, you could feel yourself getting closer—an electric tingle spreading from your toes to your fingers, the tight coiling of desire in your belly. That elusive peak was tantilizingly close, deliciously aching, but just out of reach.

Fate apparently had a twisted sense of humor and decided it would stay out of reach.

The knock on the door was like a cold splash of water causing you to jolt up, but Spencer's large palms clasped around your thighs as if to say, I'm not done with you yet.

The sharp intake of breath was involuntary, a reflex as you sunk back into the mattress. Whoever was at the door would get the message eventually. Right now, you were writhing against the sheets with hands forming fists in the curls of Spencer's hair, and that was all that mattered.

"Oh—yes, Spence, please." You weren't certain you were making sense.

He hummed against your clit, sending full body shockwaves through you as you finally released, like a taut rubber band finally being snapped. You were panting, mumbling something incoherent as your hands sought out Spencer's.

Another knock, more aggressive this time. You struggled to sit up, your mind still hazy, but Spencer's gentle touch coaxed you back down.

"I'll get it," he said, fingers tracing constellations from freckle to freckle on your ankle. "Do what you do best, sit and look pretty."

You laughed weakly, pressing your lips against his before you watched him disappear from the room.

Spencer moved to answer the door, his hand barely grazing over the handle before turning it, but as it swung open, the color drained from his cheeks, eyes widening at the people in front of him.

Garcia and Morgan.

He was suddenly aware of how he looked—hair strewn in every direction, glasses resting lopsidedly on his nose, mouth no doubt still covered in you. That thought prompted him to bring his sleeve up to his face, wiping the remnants away as he simultaneously ran a hand through his hair.

But it was too little too late, they had damning evidence against him now. His first instinct was to slam the door shut, but he hesitated, certain it would worsen the situation. So he remained still, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly, his eyes flickering to the soup and tissues they presented.

"Are we at the wrong apartment?" Penelope whispered, not-so-discreetly, to Morgan.

"Nope, this is definitely the right apartment." Morgan said, smirking as he clasped Spencer on the shoulder. "You've been taking care of her, huh, Reid?"

"Time out!" Penelope squealed, her hands jumping up, almost dropping the soup in the process. "You and—, and you guys are? You're lying. Oh my stars, wait, what were you two doing? Why do you look like you've been... oh, don't tell me!"

Spencer could feel the pink suffusing his face, fingers pinching his brow as he started to shut the door. He should know better than to check the peep hole before opening the door.

Morgan's hand stuck out, preventing the door from shutting any further.

"Hold your horses, pretty boy," Morgan teased, nudging Spencer aside without waiting for an invitation. His eyes darted around your living room as if he would find you. "At least let us do what we came here to do."

Penelope started to set her stuff on the coffee table, her face displaying her thrilled emotions like an open book.

"I can't wait for JJ to know about this, she's going to freak," Garcia says, clasping on to Morgan's arm.

Morgan laughed, patting her hand as he shook his head. "No one is going to tell anyone. Your secret is safe with us, pretty boy. We're a vault, aren't we, baby girl?"

"Yeah, okay, fine," Penelope started, lips pursing as she peered into the kitchen. "But just so we're clear, this is going to be like swallowing a live grenade of gossip.

Now it was Spencer's turn to laugh, head shaking as he pushed his glasses to the top of his nose.

"Thanks, guys. I'm sure she's going to appreciate this."

He nodded towards the items, disregarding their comments as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, walking them both to the door and hoping to the gods you would stay put.

"Alright, we'll let you get back to... whatever this is," Morgan conceded, hands shooting up in defense as he stepped out the door. "But hey, you make her cry, and I'll be using those spaghetti limbs of yours to mop the floor."

"Morgan!" Penelope said, slapping him on the shoulder.

"Unnecessary, but understood," Spencer said, waving towards the exit. "Now, if you wouldn't mind..."

He could feel the migraine coming on.

"Oh my god."

They were both looking behind him, he followed their gaze, seeing you standing there just outside the bedroom door, wearing his boxers and one of his Star Trek shirts.

He slammed the door shut.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @r-3dlips

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[reidmarieprentiss]

Make You Feel My Love

Summary: You and Spencer are being held hostage, you use this vulnerable moment to tell him how you really feel.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader

Category: angst

Warnings/Includes: love confession, rejection, insecurities, being held hostage

Word count: 2k

a/n: no thoughts brain hurty me tired i sorry

main masterlist part two part three

The air in the dimly lit room was heavy, thick with the tension of fear and uncertainty. The two of you had been trapped here for what felt like hours, bound and helpless, with no sign of rescue. The flickering lightbulb overhead cast long, distorted shadows on the walls, making the room feel even smaller, more claustrophobic.

Spencer sat across from you, his face pale and strained, his eyes wide behind his glasses. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, the endless calculations and scenarios running through his head as he tried to think of a way out of this. But you knew there was nothing either of you could do. Not now, not like this.

It was the silence that got to you the most. The deafening, all-consuming silence that only magnified the pounding of your heart and the rapid shallowness of your breath. You had to say something. Anything. The words bubbled up inside you, words you had never intended to say, not like this, but there was no stopping them now.

"Spencer," you began, your voice trembling, barely more than a whisper, "I have to tell you something."

He looked up at you, his brows furrowing in concern. "What is it?"

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. "Well, we've always been friends, right?"

"Of course, Y/N," Spencer replied, his confusion deepening. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read between the lines of what you were saying. "Why do you ask?"

You coughed, your voice trembling as you tried to steady yourself. "I don’t—I don’t want to say or do anything that could ruin our friendship," you began, your heart pounding in your chest. "But…"

Spencer’s eyes widened, a flicker of panic flashing across his face. He could sense the gravity of what you were about to say, but he had no idea where this was going, and it terrified him. "But what?" he asked, his voice laced with dread and anticipation.

You took a deep breath, feeling the air catch in your throat as the words you had been holding back for so long finally forced their way out. "I love you, Spencer," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly might shatter the fragile truth hanging between you.

For a moment, the room seemed to tilt, the world narrowing down to just the two of you, trapped in this impossible moment. Spencer stared at you, his eyes wide and unblinking, as if he couldn’t quite process what he had just heard. The silence stretched on, oppressive and heavy, until finally, he spoke.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head vehemently. “No, please, don’t say that. Don’t tell me that.”

“Spencer—” you started, your voice pleading, but he cut you off, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions.

“No!” he nearly shouted, the anguish in his tone stopping you in your tracks. 

“What?” Your voice wavered, barely holding steady as you tried to understand what was happening, why he was reacting this way.

“You can’t love me,” he said, his voice trembling as he looked down, unable to meet your eyes. “You shouldn’t love me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you tried to hold them back, biting your lip to stop it from quivering. “Why not?” you asked, your voice cracking, the pain seeping into your words. You couldn’t understand why he was saying this, why he was pushing you away when all you wanted was to be closer to him.

“I—I don’t deserve that,” Spencer stammered, his hands trembling as he clasped them tightly in his lap. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Why can’t I love you, Spencer?” you asked, the desperation clear in your voice as you fought to hold onto the fragile hope that was slipping through your fingers.

His hands trembled as he ran them through his hair, pulling at the strands as if trying to root himself in reality. “Because I’m not good enough for you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not what you need. I’m not what you deserve. I’m broken, and I’ll only hurt you. I can’t—I can’t let that happen.”

You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “That’s not true, Spencer. You’re not broken. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. You’re kind, and smart, and you care so much about everyone. You’re everything I could ever want.”

“No,” he repeated, his voice firmer now, though it trembled with emotion. “You’re wrong. You don’t see it, but I do. I see all the ways I’ll fail you, all the ways I’ll make your life harder. I can’t… I can’t do that to you.”

His words felt like a knife to your chest, sharp and unyielding, slicing through the hope you had so carefully nurtured. You had never imagined this moment would unfold like this, with so much pain and rejection. The distance between you, though small in physical space, felt like an insurmountable chasm, one that you feared you might never be able to cross.

“Why can’t we be together?” you asked again, your voice raw with the ache of your unfulfilled longing. You needed him to explain, to make you understand why he was pushing you away, why he couldn’t see what you saw in him.

Spencer looked at you, his eyes filled with a sorrow so deep it seemed to echo in the very air around you. “Because I’ll never be enough for you,” he said, his voice soft but laced with the bitterness of self-doubt. “You deserve someone who can give you everything you need, someone who isn’t haunted by the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done. I’m not that person. I can’t be.”

“But I don’t want anyone else,” you replied, your voice trembling with the intensity of your feelings. “I want you, Spencer. I love you for who you are, not who you think you should be.”

He closed his eyes, a single tear slipping down his cheek, his resolve cracking under the weight of your words. “I’m afraid,” he confessed, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid that if I let myself love you, I’ll only end up hurting you. And I can’t bear the thought of losing you, even if it means never having you in the way I want.”

Your heart ached at his words, at the deep-seated fear that held him back, and you wished you could reach out and erase all his doubts, all his pain. But you knew this was something he had to face on his own, something you couldn’t fix for him, no matter how much you wanted to.

“Spencer,” you whispered, taking a tentative step closer to him, your voice full of the love you felt, even in this moment of despair. “We can figure it out together. I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be you.”

He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze with a look that was equal parts longing and sorrow. “I don’t know if I can,” he admitted, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the stillness of the room. “I don’t know if I can be what you need me to be.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were born not of rejection, but of the deep, abiding love you felt for him, even with all his fears and insecurities. “I don’t need you to be anything other than who you already are,” you said softly. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Spencer.”

For a moment, it seemed like he might reach out to you, that he might bridge the gap between you with a single step. But then, just as quickly, the doubt returned to his eyes, and he shook his head, pulling back, putting that painful distance between you once more.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice full of regret. “I just… I can’t.”

And with those words, you felt the last vestiges of hope slip away, leaving you standing alone in the quiet, empty space where the possibility of something more had once been. The friendship you had shared, the love you had confessed—it all felt like it was unraveling before your eyes, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“Please,” you begged, your voice breaking as you reached out towards him, your hands trembling with the desperation that coursed through you. “Please don’t push me away. Don’t do this, Spencer. We can figure it out, we can—”

But he shook his head again, his expression one of heartbreaking finality. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t be what you need. And I can’t stand the thought of hurting you. It’s better this way. It’s better if we just… if we just stay friends.”

The words hung heavy in the air, the finality of them sinking deep into your bones. You felt like the ground had opened up beneath you, like everything you had built with Spencer over the years was crumbling into nothingness.

Your voice was barely audible when you spoke again. “This changes everything, doesn’t it?”

Spencer looked down, unable to meet your gaze. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

The silence returned, heavier than before, a silence that spoke of things lost and things unsaid. It wrapped around you like a shroud, cold and unforgiving, as the reality of the situation began to sink in. You and Spencer would never be the same. Whatever friendship you had, whatever future you might have imagined, was irrevocably altered in this moment.

And in the quiet that followed, with nothing but the sound of your own ragged breathing to keep you company, you couldn’t help but wonder if things would ever feel whole again. The weight of Spencer’s words settled over you like a heavy, suffocating blanket, and the room that had already felt so small now seemed to close in on you, pressing against your chest until it hurt to breathe.

The ropes digging into your wrists were a painful reminder of the reality you were trapped in—not just the physical reality of being held hostage, but the emotional prison you now found yourself in. The burn of the coarse fibers cutting into your skin mirrored the ache in your heart, both relentless and unyielding.

You weren’t sure if you wanted your team to find you or if you were okay with the unsub coming back first. The thought flickered through your mind, dark and unsettling, but it was there, gnawing at you as you sat there, helpless in more ways than one.

If the team found you, you’d be saved, but you’d also have to face Spencer again, confront the devastating shift in your relationship, and accept that things might never return to the way they were. Could you bear pretending everything was fine, knowing your confession had fractured something deep between you? Seeing the pain in his eyes, his belief that he didn’t deserve your love, would be unbearable.

The alternative—the unsub returning—was terrifying, but in a twisted way, it almost seemed easier. At least then, you wouldn’t have to face the emotional wreckage, the sting of Spencer’s rejection replaying in your mind.

But deep down, you knew you wanted to be saved, to live, even if it meant facing the painful aftermath with Spencer. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the hope that your team was out there, searching for you, even as Spencer’s sorrowful face haunted your thoughts.

All you could do was wait, wait and hope that when the door finally opened, it would be your team standing on the other side, ready to pull you out of the darkness—physically and emotionally. And as the minutes stretched into an eternity, you clung to that hope with everything you had, even as the pain in your wrists and the ache in your heart threatened to overwhelm you.

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[sweatervest-obsessed]

Last, Last Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~7.3k

TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.

a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!

Alternate Ending! Spencer Masterlist

“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.” 

“Y/n…”

“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”

The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart. 

“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.” 

“Wait for the potential of us?” 

Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.

“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.” 

“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”

“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.” 

Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face. 

“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....” 

“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…” 

The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.

“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved. 

The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough. 

“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.” 

Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home. 

Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..” 

About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him. 

He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty. 

And it stuck. 

Now? It stung. 

All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.

“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms. 

“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...” 

Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face. 

You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time. 

You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you. 

Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it. 

Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you. 

You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—

Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years. 

Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job. 

Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—

The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off. 

This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years. 

You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone. 

Emily Prentiss

______________________________________________________________

The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.” 

Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”

The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. . 

Spencer just stared at the photo. 

Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”

He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”

“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.  I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

______________________________________________________________

Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call. 

You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“

“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.” 

Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything. 

“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?” 

“What?” 

“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.” 

“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?” 

Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now. 

You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life. 

Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter. 

You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely. 

It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit. 

You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night. 

As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car. 

Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face. 

Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.” 

“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort. 

“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.

“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.

“Let’s head inside?” 

The three of you moved inside. 

Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like. 

As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you. 

“What do you know about Cat Adams?” 

That bitch. 

______________________________________________________________

“I would like to go on a date. With you.” 

Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”

“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”

Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.

“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”

“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”

Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”

His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.” 

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.

______________________________________________________________

Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.” 

They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was. 

“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.” 

Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips. 

Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too. 

She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”

“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file. 

Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh. 

“What is the last thing you know about her?” 

You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later. 

They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces. 

“What? What happened?” 

“Y/n..”

“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?” 

Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—

“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”

“We didn’t think you’d–” 

“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.” 

Both of them went silent. 

“So is he out?” 

They nodded slowly, silently. 

“How long was he in there.”

Nothing. 

“I asked. How. Long.”

Luke spoke up. “Three months.” 

“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down. 

Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you. 

“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?” 

“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.” 

Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her. 

They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile. 

You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind. 

Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.

“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.

At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed. 

______________________________________________________________

“Victimology is off.”

“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room. 

“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.” 

Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.” 

Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.” 

“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer. 

Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.

While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.” 

“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid. 

Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture. 

Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?” 

“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.” 

______________________________________________________________

After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it. 

Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.

There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest. 

Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong. 

Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter. 

“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”

You nodded. “How does this affect me?” 

“She took your father and sister.” 

Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.” 

His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear. 

“So why is she here?” You whispered back. 

“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.” 

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.” 

Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation. 

The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet. 

It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent. 

The pity from Rossi's look was palpable. 

“Don’t even start.” 

He shrugged and stayed silent. 

Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.” 

Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.” 

You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone. 

Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch. 

Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch. 

______________________________________________________________

“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”

Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “

“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.” 

“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.” 

Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.” 

“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?” 

“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office. 

“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily. 

Emily sighed in agreement. 

Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n  really shouldn’t be in there.” 

Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.” 

Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ. 

JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.

Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”

“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”

Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”

Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.” 

______________________________________________________________

Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open. 

And there he was. 

This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years. 

And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams. 

The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship. 

After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours. 

It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed. 

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit. 

You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine. 

His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger. 

You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…

“What are you doing here?” 

You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face. 

Remember what Prentiss had said to you. 

“You know why I’m here.” 

Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them. 

Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back. 

Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off. 

She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?” 

You shook your head. “No.”

Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.

“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”

Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?” 

“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”

Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?”

Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser. 

“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue. 

Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.” 

You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense. 

Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face. 

Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before. 

“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.” 

Spencer spoke up. “With you?”

“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.” 

“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud. 

“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?” 

Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”

Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”

Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.” 

You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.

Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”

Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?” 

“No.” you just looked down at your hands. 

“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.” 

“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?” 

“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.” 

Spencer stood up, squaring off against her.  “That was a very different situation.”

“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch. 

“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.

“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed. 

Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”

Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?” 

Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”

Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine. 

Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.” 

“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”

Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.” 

“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.” 

“That doesn't mean I-I would…”

Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”

Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head. 

After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.” 

It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where. 

Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.” 

Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”

You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”

Spencer just looked over at you. 

Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?” 

Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”

And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you. 

Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?” 

You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.” 

“Stop.”

Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?” 

You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”

That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.” 

Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.” 

“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”

You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?” 

“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”

You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here.  Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”

She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”

“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”. 

Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”

“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”

“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”

You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”

Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?” 

“Last year.” 

“Was he good in bed?” 

Spencer stood up. “Shut up.” 

Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”

“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”

There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow. 

Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?” 

You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”  

“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?” 

“ I planned and I... I waited.”

Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “

“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”

Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."

You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send. 

Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”

Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”

“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.” 

Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.” 

Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” . 

“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.” 

The phone in your hand buzzed.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.” 

Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.” 

She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer. 

Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.” 

______________________________________________________________

The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up. 

“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?” 

Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”

“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”

Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.” 

“Would you have written me back?” 

When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer. 

“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison. 

______________________________________________________________

The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke.  “We need to debrief.” 

Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in. 

“Spencer, are you okay?” 

Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug. 

He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.

You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound. 

Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached. 

“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”

She nodded at him and walked away. 

Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other. 

“I should explain all of this.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.” 

You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.” 

He just nodded, staring at you really. 

You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back. 

“Thank you for saving my sister and father.” 

Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find. 

Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief. 

“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.” 

Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face. 

He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger. 

“They gave me an ear piece and everything.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.” 

You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…” 

Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”

“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation. 

You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…” 

She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was. 

He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.” 

Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better. 

You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago. 

You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him. 

As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you. 

Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. 

It was Spencer who spoke first. 

“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—” 

You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did. 

“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered. 

The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different. 

It’s not the way it used to be. 

“I need to go Spencer.” 

He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek. 

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. 

“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure. 

“Y/n…”

You took another step away from him and shook your head. 

“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.” 

You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.” 

“Y/n please.” 

“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.” 

Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek. 

Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out. 

You didn’t. 

His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you. 

But it had to end. 

You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you. 

Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car. 

Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces. 

You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you. 

The doors shut. 

You were all alone in this hollow parking garage. 

Your heart was aching, burning. 

But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time. 

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I’ve been feeling a bit down lately — how do you think hotch (or spencer!) would react to a chubby!reader dealing with self-image insecurities!

(sorry if you’ve already written something similar <3)

love you!!!

You turn to the side again, running two hands down your front as you go. Spencer will make it worse if you catch him watching, but he loves taking you in, every part of you, and he’s hard-pushed to drag his gaze away. 

You frown and hold your breath. You pull your stomach in, squeeze the fat of your hips, and turn frontward to repeat the process. 

He turns away from you to finish threading his cufflinks through the holes in his shirtsleeves. “I’m surprised they’re having a baby already,” he says, though he told you this already. 

“I know,” you murmur back. “I thought they’d wait a while, but I suppose you don’t get to choose when it happens sometimes.” 

“He’s thinking about leaving the BAU.” 

“Really?” 

Spencer straightens his tie and turns. You’re more relaxed than you were, turned to him, too, a frown on your painted lips. 

“It makes sense, but I hate it.” Spencer takes your hand where it hangs loosely by your hip. “I hate saying goodbye to people.” 

“Well, don’t say goodbye to me.” 

“I wasn’t planning on it.” He finds your other hand. Holding them both, he leans back until his hair is falling off of his shoulders and getting caught in his shirt collar. You meet his eyes, smiling instinctually, a better sight than your sorry frown had been. 

You rub the back of his hand with your thumb. Quiet stretches, then ends. “Do you think this is alright?” you ask. 

“What, the dress? You look beautiful.” 

“It’s a bit…” You bring his hand gently to your stomach. “It doesn’t hide much.” 

“In my opinion, there’s nothing to hide.” You start to protest and he drags you toward him, hands lacing behind your back, restraining you without force. “No, listen, there’s nothing to hide. You look amazing.” 

“You swear? I wasn’t gonna ask, but I’m scared I’ll embarrass myself and not know it.” 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you’re just pretty.” Spencer steals a hand to run down your side. He isn’t sure if it’s the right thing to do, but he isn’t sure how to say it, either. He hopes his hand can do the talking, appreciative, practically adoring as it falls to the apex of your hip, his thumb rubbing at your stomach through the fabric. Your stomach which he loves, no matter what you think of it. “Every part of you is exactly how it should be.” 

“Even my dress?” 

“Especially the dress.” It falls like petals against your thighs. “You worry too much,” he says, knowing why you worry, but wishing you didn’t. He leans in until you’re nose to nose. 

“I know. Thank you, Spence,” you say, closing your eyes. 

He kisses you gently. 

[nereidprinc3ss]

omg i'm obsessed with the idea of spencer and a university student and i looooved the one you wrote with reader struggling with finals (i relate so much </3) i'm not sure if you write requests or not (if not, then i'm sorry and please ignore this hahaha) but i would love to see more of their dynamic? maybe spencer for once arrives earlier from a case and goes to pick up reader from university as a surprise? i don't really know but i would love to see more 💗 thank you and i hope you have a good day!

AHHHH omg you have NO IDEA how excited I was to open my inbox and see a request!! i am absolutely obsessed w spencer x uni student too

i kind of took this and ran w it so its a little angsty and random LOLOL but here is (drumroll)

spencer picking up reader after you fail an exam (sorry lol) and you are NOT in a good mood but he loves you so its fine

Tears, partly from the bitter wind and partly from shame, blur your phone screen as you exit the lecture hall. Another missed call from Spencer. It’s the third one today—you've been ignoring them in an attempt to remain focused on the final that you just bombed. Part of you now wants to keep ignoring them out of sheer embarrassment. How can you admit to your super-genius boyfriend that you are a bona fide academic failure? Still, you don’t want him wondering about you while he should be working. Your numb fingers fumble with the phone as you try to call him back without running into anybody on your walk back to student housing. 

It doesn’t reach the second ring before he’s picking up. 

“Hey,” he sighs. “I was starting to worry.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy,” you exhale, cutting through some trees as you approach your building. “What’s up? How’s the case?” 

“Well... that’s actually what I’ve been calling about. We wrapped up this morning.” 

“What? But last night you said it would be at least three more days.” 

“Rare instance of me being wrong, I guess.” 

“So when are you flying back?” you ask, not wanting to get your hopes up. You know sometimes his team stays behind to help with processing a case. He doesn’t reply for a moment. “Spencer?” 

“I’m... thirteen minutes away from your school. Twelve.” 

Your brain short-circuits as you process his words, the cold metal of the door handle biting into your fingers as you stop dead in your tracks. 

“You--are you driving here right now?” 

“Yes,” he begins, sounding embarrassed, “I kept calling because I wanted to ask first, but I know you had your last final this morning and you were going to come over when I got back anyway so I thought you might want to come stay with me for a few extra days. You can say no, obviously—” 

Some of the icy despair melts in your chest. 

“Of course, I want to.” 

“Good,” he exhales a laugh. “It would have been awkward if you said no. Can you have a bag packed by the time I get there?” 

You’re speedwalking through the lobby now, hitting the up button for the elevator more times than is necessarily effective. 

“Drive faster.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

By the time you blindly shove enough clothing in a bag, text your roommate to let her know you’ll be gone for the rest of the week, and make it back outside, Spencer’s familiar vintage car is already pulling up to the curb. He doesn’t even bother cutting the engine—just puts it in park and gets out, rounding the vehicle as you close the distance between one another. His smile is brilliant, and though you don’t feel particularly deserving of it, it’s for you. 

“Hi,” you breathe shakily as he loops his arms around your waist. 

“Hi, pretty,” he says, already leaning down to kiss you. It’s soft and sweet over too quickly, but then he’s gently pulling you into him. You drop your bag and bury your face in his jacket, trying to right yourself before you go into an emotional tailspin. 

As usual, he smells like lavender, clove, resinous amber. It makes your head spin. Right away you feel yourself relaxing; feel your guard slipping, like it always does when he’s around. 

“I missed you.” The words are quiet to begin with, muffled further by the fabric of his coat, but you know he’ll hear you. 

“I missed you too,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Everything okay?” 

Why are you always surprised when a man who works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI accurately analyzes your behavior? 

“Just tired. Can we go home?” You pull back enough to look up at him, meeting his fond—and just a little concerned—gaze, averting your eyes before he has time to discern your... omission of truth. 

“Yeah, angel. Of course we can.” 

He opens the passenger side door for you, making sure you’re settled before tossing your bag in the back seat and circling around the back of the car. 

“Is that coffee?” You say as soon as he slides into the driver’s seat. His eyes dart down to the tumbler in the center cupholder as he buckles. 

“It’s from the jet. You won’t like it.” 

Despite his warning you reach over to grab it, taking a small sip as he puts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. You make a sour face. Spencer glances over. 

“I told you it was bad.” 

You yawn, putting it back in the cupholder. “It was worth a shot.” 

Jazz music plays quietly from the speakers and the heat is blasting, but you’re too busy mentally rehashing question 37 to find it relaxing. 

“You didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he states. Not a question. Outside, the brick buildings of your campus roll by. You wonder if all the students rushing about on the sidewalks and side streets failed any of their finals.  

“Couldn’t,” you mumble flatly, picking at your nails.  

There’s a moment’s pause, and you’re imagining all the things you could have done differently. You’ve never failed a final before. If you’d just studied a little bit harder—if you’d stayed in instead of going out last weekend, if you weren’t so— 

“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Spencer says. 

“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak because your eyes are already stinging again. Honestly, you’re surprised you made it this far without him getting the truth out of you. He offers his hand across the console as you slink down in your seat, and you take it, allowing him to run his thumb over yours in soothing lines. 

“How do you think your final went?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, the bare branches of the trees outside blurring as you stare unseeingly. 

“Not good. Like, I definitely failed, not good. I'm an idiot.” 

“You absolutely are not an idiot.” 

“You didn’t see me taking the test, Spencer. I literally just sat there staring at it for ten minutes before I even answered one question. It was pathetic.” 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” 

The question takes you by surprise. Your frown deepens. 

“What? I don’t—that’s not—" 

“Just answer the question. Did you sleep at all last night?” 

“Yes!” 

“Don't lie to me.” 

“Fuck you! I slept for like two hours and had coffee this morning!”  

He squeezes your hand. 

“That’s why you failed.” 

The first tear traces its path down your cheek, composure overwhelmed by the confrontation. 

“I hate when you use your stupid interrogation tactics on me,” you say, voice wobbling. And then the crying begins in earnest. 

“I know, baby.” 

His hand moves to rub your back when you let go to cover your face. Torrential evidence of your frustration and utter exhaustion well over, slipping through your fingers despite your best efforts to stop them from coming at all. Having an emotional breakdown in the passenger seat of his car is far from how you’d wanted to greet Spencer’s surprise arrival, but you’re too worn out to mask your emotions—especially when he is so adept at drawing them to the surface. 

A moment passes like that before you take a shuddering breath, raising your head slightly and wiping your cheeks with your sleeves in vain. 

“I should have been able to do it. I just—it was like I was reading the questions and I knew that I should know the answers, but I couldn’t remember anything.” 

“You’re exhausted. Sleep deprivation has an immediate, devastating effect on cognitive functioning levels. My recall and processing speed start to fail when I’m tired, too. It has nothing to do with how smart you are.” 

It makes sense—but it doesn’t make you feel much better. You wanted to ace this exam. Of course, Spencer wouldn’t understand because school was as easy as breathing for him. He barely had to try to get three doctorates. It’s possible, you suppose, that dating a genius has put an academic chip on your shoulder—maybe you’ve set impossibly high standards for yourself.  

After a few minutes the crying finally ebbs, if only because you’re running into supply and demand problems with your tear ducts. You rub your weepy eyes on your shoulder, leaning against the cold window and watching DC go by. 

“You know, the final isn’t as important as you think it is. You’ll still pass the class.” 

“It’s symbolic,” you mumble, breath fogging up the glass. Spencer hums, still rubbing your back. 

“I know. I know it matters to you, but I don’t want you to think one bad grade is a reflection of who you are. Do you understand why it doesn’t make sense to measure something as abstract as intelligence by a metric as one dimensional as a standardized test?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

You shift in your seat, wiping your face with your sleeve and prompting Spencer to take your other hand once more. 

“Can your FBI friend hack the university database and give me an A?” you ask after a moment, sniffling. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Pretty please?” 

“Nope.” 

“It’s like you don’t even love me,” you mutter, angling yourself away from him.  

He pulls your hand toward him and presses a kiss to the back of it. 

“I love you so much that I don’t want you to get expelled for academic dishonesty.” 

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll probably just drop out.” 

You both know you’re just being overdramatic, but Spencer has a tendency to be sweet even when you don’t deserve it. 

“I’ll love you no matter what you do.” 

You blush, unable to come up with a sufficient reply. His eyes slide to you briefly and he smirks, clearly enjoying his ability to fluster you, and by extension, get you to shut up. 

“Eyes on the road, genius,” you grumble. But for the first time today you’re fighting a smile instead of tears. 

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi! Spencer Reid x reader where reader is kind of panicking because she’s worried Spencer will get tired of her and find someone that’s more like him personality wise? But then Spence reassures her that he loves her and only her? 🎀🚬🤍🤎

fem bimbo!plus size reader, wc: 589.

a/n: no i am not going to let bimbo reader sleep, but also i've been posting so much aaron recently, which is funny because i've been so obsessed with spencer recently. thank you for your request!

cw! angst :(

“I guess opposites really do attract huh?”

It was just a joke. A harmless, well meaning joke that completely spun your world off of its axis.

You were aware of the differences between you and your boyfriend, but you never felt bad about it, nor did he ever make you think that you weren't good enough for him. You would have liked to think that your differences was what made Spencer fall in love with you; but now you’re not too sure.

Yeah, sure, you needed help with understanding certain things, and your processing was a bit slower than others, but that didn’t make you stupid or annoying… right? 

What if you talked too much? What about that time that you kept interrupting Spencer while he was reading? Did you irritate him? Did he think about breaking up with you? You’d never had thoughts like these before because you never had a reason to. You always felt secure in your relationship with Spencer, like you were his equal. 

Spencer wasn’t used to your silence, it was unusual and quite frankly it raised the red flags in his mind. He was so used to your rambling about anything and everything that the quietness of his apartment was making him itch. 

“Sweetheart?” He called out softly.

It was almost as if his words scared you, your body jumping at the sound of him breaking the serene atmosphere of his almost dark academia-esque apartment. 

“Yes?” Your voice was hushed and meek and Spencer absolutely hated it.

He set his book down on the side table where he uncurled his legs and patted the spot on the couch next to him. “C’mere.” You looked almost hesitant to move, but nonetheless you got up and sat down. 

He grabbed your hand and held it firmly, but you didn’t make any effort to hold it back. It made Spencer nervous; did he do something?

“Sweetheart,” He reiterated. “Is something wrong?”

“Am I too much?” Your panic was quick to build. “What do you mean?” Spencer’s brows were furrowed inquisitively. “Like - like do I talk a lot? Or - or are my clothes too colorful? Do I ask too many questions?” Your speech fired out rapidly, almost as if you didn’t say what you wanted to know you may never do.

“Hey, hey, hey… no, no, stop.” Spencer was quick to shush you, opting to hold your face instead of your hand. “Did someone tell you that?” You shook your head, “No, yes? I don’t know. It - it was just because of that stupid joke Morgan had made.”

Ah, he remembers now.

“The one about opposites attracting?” You nod feebly. “And it got me thinking… what if I’m - what if I’m not a good match for you? You might want someone that’s similar to you,  one that knows how to play chess and understands all those super cool facts you know.” 

“Honey,” Spencer interrupts with a light laugh. “No.”

He wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at the sheer fact that he couldn’t imagine ever wanting someone else.

“I want you. I’ve only ever wanted you. I - I do admit that we are different, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I like that you aren’t like me. It’s comforting, and I just… I just love everything about you. I love you.”

“You promise?” You asked wetly with a pout. His lithe thumbs swipe at the tears trickling down your cheeks as he nodded, “Of course.”

“I love you too, Spencie.” 

There you were. His girl.

[mandarinmoons]

hi! could I maybe request a spencer x reader where reader is a college student (she's like 20 something) and her exams are coming up and she's really struggling with stress and anxiety and low self esteem and no motivation and in the process shuts spencer off but spencer is a very stubborn and caring boyfriend and tries to help her?

have a great day love! 🫶🏻

Countless papers and empty cups of coffee littered your desk as you were sitting, slouched in your chair. You’d lost count of what time it was, the last thing you remember was that it was around 8:30 in the morning when you woke up, had some toast for breakfast and dove into your studies. Now, the sun was setting and your stomach was aching because of how empty it was and yet you still stayed in the exact same position, scanning your notes and trying to memorize every detail.

You were so deep in your studies that you didn’t hear your boyfriend Spencer let himself in. Spencer looked over your apartment and saw how unlived it looked. Usually your TV would be on with a random show playing in the background and the smell of your favorite candle filling the air, but it was dead silent and no hint of magnolia was sensed anywhere.

As he walked into the kitchen he barely saw any dishes in the sink which made him concerned. Spencer knew that you were working hard on preparing for your final exams, but seeing you not taking the time to take care of yourself worried him deeply.

Spencer walked to your bedroom and sighed when he saw you resting your head on your desk, head nestled between your arms.

“Sweetheart…”,

He made his way to you and rested his hand on your head, his thumb caressing over your hair. The act of affection awoke you and you stayed put as you let Spencer comfort you.

“I think you’ve been working too much.”

“I’m okay.”

Spencer crouched down to your level and brushed the hair out of your face, “Your face says otherwise.”

You rolled your eyes at his words and a light chuckle left his lips. Spencer was always worried about your well being and especially for the past few weeks. You had a habit of throwing yourself into your work and giving it your all, but in the process you’d forget to take care of your basic everyday needs and Spencer was adamant about reminding you of the smallest of tasks, from brushing your teeth to drinking enough water.

“Spencer, I’m alright. You don’t have to keep checking up on me.”

Spencer wanted to believe you, but the tears in the corners of your eyes told a different story.

“I’m fine Spence, really,” the tears poured down your face before you had a chance to hide them, your throat burning as you tried to hold back a cry.

Feeling ashamed, you wiped at your cheeks harshly and Spencer pulled you tight into his chest, one hand still caressing your head while the other one rested on your back.

Sobs racked through your body as all the pent up stress finally had a chance to be let out, shaking from anxiety and hiccups being choked out.

After some time, your cries calmed down and you felt your body go limp in Spencer’s arms, as the crying had exhausted you to the point where you thought you would fall asleep right then and there.

Before you had a chance to let the exhaustion consume you, you felt Spencer pick you up and lay you down on your bed. He crawled down next to you and brushed his thumb over the red streaks across your cheeks. He looked so sad, seeing how your state of being affected him so much made you feel guilty. Why couldn’t you have taken more breaks? Spencer was probably scolding you inside his head for skipping lunch so many times.

“I’m not mad at you, you know.”

“You’re not?”

Spencer shook his head and rubbed his thumb over your temple, “I could never be mad at you.”

Another set of tears were burning your eyes as you took in his words. Before they had a chance to spill over, Spencer nuzzled closer and kissed your cheek a few times causing you to giggle.

“I hope you know you’re not getting rid of me so easily.”

“I know.”

“Good, now,” Spencer pulled you close into his chest, the smell of his cologne instantly putting you at ease. It's as if the anxiety attack you experienced not too long ago never even happened.

“I want you to stay put for the next hour or so, just rest and then later we’re going to take a bath and have a nice dinner, how does that sound?”

“That sounds amazing,” your face was already tucked into the crook of his neck, feeling Spencer squirm lightly as your breath tickled his neck.

It always amused you how sensitive he was and you were trying your best not to place a kiss to the skin of his neck as you knew he’d erupt into laughter, a sound that easily made even the worst days brighter, but you decided not to tease him, for now at least.

What was supposed to be an hour of cuddling, turned into both of you waking up at 9 PM, dazed and not knowing what planet either of you were on.

Seeing that it was a little too late to prepare dinner at this time at night, you both settled on frying some eggs & bacon and Spencer cut up some fruit for the side, as well as telling you some fun facts about them.

“Did you know that bananas are full of several types of antioxidants that are linked to reduced risk of heart disease and macular degeneration?”

“I do now.”

As you finished eating, Spencer wouldn’t let you go back to sleep until you had a shower. You huffed and got in the shower, letting the warm water run down your body as you lathered your loofah in soap.

Walking out of the bathroom clean & fresh, you walked to your bedroom and a gasp left your lips as you took in the sight in front of you.

The room was lit up with candles, the signature scent of magnolia in the air. The bed was covered in multiple pillows and blankets, making it the coziest spot you’ve seen in a while, while the papers on your desk were organized into neat stacks.

“How’re you feeling?”

Turning your head, Spencer walked in and held two mugs, the smell of peppermint emanating from them. Peppermint tea, once again, one of your favorites.

“A lot better now, thanks,” Spencer handed you the mug as the both of you sat on the edge of the bed.

“Y/N, you can’t keep going on like this.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes settled on the mug in your hands as Spencer’s hand found its spot on your lower back again.

“Don’t be sorry, just try to tell me when you need some help, okay?”

“I will.”

“Good.”

Spencer pressed his lips to your forehead in a kiss before resting his own forehead against yours, as a simple act of intimacy that meant the whole world.

“Now c’mon, let’s have our tea before it gets cold.”

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[reiderwriter]

i need a very angsty/light fluff with spencer to i can see you by taylor. i love your writing sososo much 💗💗

A/N: I'm not sure I got any light fluff in there but I certainly did make it angst 💀 thank you for the request 💗

W/C: 1.7k

Summary: Six months into your secret relationship, you're beginning to think that maybe Spencer doesn't love you the way you love him

Warnings: toxic relationship, Spencer is an ass and then he's kinda really intense. Inspired by:

Here's my masterlist, and I'm currently working on a request challenge, so feel free to check that out too! 💗

Six months of dating was about as long as you could stand before you knew that it wasn’t going anywhere if things didn’t change. 

At first, you’d been on board with Spencer’s suggestion to keep your relationship secret for the first few weeks of dating. It made sense with you both working at the same place and on the same team, and you didn’t want to change the group dynamic. But weeks turned into months, and six months was a long time to wait for public recognition of a relationship that could be so much more than secret looks in the hallways and weekends wrapped up in each other. 

Everytime he brushed you off whilst at work, you felt part of your heart cracking. The first time he’d done it was only days after your mutual confessions. You’d been alone in a police precinct on some case or the other, and, needing a moment to process your emotions, you grabbed his hand for support. He’d pulled his from your grip quickly, doing his best not to make the sudden movements, and if was like your world was crashing down on you. You’d confronted him that night in his hotel room, and he’d blown you off again. 

“Y/N, we promised that this would stay between us for now. I’m sorry that I can’t be like other partners, and that I can’t give you what you need right now, but we can’t do… we can’t hold hands or kiss or seem any closer than we usually are to the others, okay?” He’d seemed so stressed you’d given in and backed down, but his words still stung. 

Months of the same scenarios repeating themselves felt like purgatory though, and you knew that you needed to either cut him loose or make him confess to the others. 

You hadn’t reached your tipping point when he’d got shot in the neck and forced you to stand on the sides. Just watching while other agents, agents who had known him longer, sure, but didn’t know how he felt, how he tasted, how his scent was enough to drive you crazy, fawned over him. They didn’t know that you would be so lost without him that you’d have gone insane if that bullet was in a different position. They didn’t know, and he didn’t care. He’d checked up on you in private, of course, but only when he was discharged. 

“Spencer, what would you have done if that had been me?” you asked him, when he questioned you. He stood staring at you for a minute, really taking the time to think about the words, think about the scenario you’d just asked him to recreate in his mind. You’d fallen for him because he was so goddamned thoughtful, because he always took the time to think and find the correct answer when he was talking to you. 

You wished then that he’d answered quicker. That it would have taken him less time to say that he would have been inconsolable, that he would’ve been lost without you, that he didn’t want to think about that ever happening at all. 

He didn’t say any of those things. 

“I’d do what you did. I’d have managed.” You’d wanted to scream at him then, but you didn’t. You just climbed into bed beside him and wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could without hurting him. You fell asleep to the image of him being shot playing over and over again. 

That had been three months into your relationship, and now with three more months of stolen kisses and antipathy, you’d reached your breaking point. Maybe it was the tension in the office from the latest case, maybe it was the detective openly flirting with you, but you certainly couldn’t control the explosion that had been brewing all this time. 

From the beginning of the week, the lead detective on your case had been making it clear and obvious that he wanted to take you out. He was showing such obvious and tempting advances that even members of your team were approaching you in private to ask you to consider. It was hard to explain to Emily and Morgan that you weren’t interested in the man, and when even Garcia started encouraging you on a phone call to go after “Detective Dreamy,” you’d almost burst into tears. 

Because throughout the advances, the obvious flirtation and the team banter, your boyfriend had not said a word either way. You weren’t sure what you actually wanted from him, because when he finally did say something, it was like he chose all the wrong words and strung them together in a sentence. 

“So how are you enjoying all the attention from Detective McDermot?” he’d asked casually, not glancing up from the pile of documents he was scanning. 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Reid?” you snapped. He looked at you in shock, completely oblivious that he’d said anything wrong. 

“Aren’t you jealous? Isn’t there some part of you that wants to let him know that I’m taken?” the tears were filling your eyes in rage, and you angrily swiped them away before they fell, not wanting him to use them against you. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that it was so upsetting to you. Do you want me to say something to him?” 

“Do you want to say something to him? Because it only matters if you actually want to do it.” 

“Y/N, that doesn’t even make sense.” 

“We’re at work, Reid, you’d do well to remember that. In this office, it’s Agent Y/L/N, right?” you grabbed the file you were working on and left the room, but you weren’t getting away from him that easily. 

“Y/N- Agent Y/L/N, wait,” he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the nearest storage closet. 

“We promised each other, we promised that we wouldn’t tell anyone for a while, why are you being like this?” He still had a strong grip on your wrist and the intimate size of the storage closet had forced you together, his body pushing against yours. 

“What would you do? What would you do if I went out there and said I’d go on a date with him? Because right now, I’m getting concerned looks thrown at me by every member of the team because there must be something wrong with me if I’m turning him down.” The bitterness of your tone took him by surprise. 

“Don’t do that, for gods sake, do not do that Y/N.” 

“Give me one good reason. Scratch that, give me one explanation that I can give to get everyone off my back.” You pulled your wrist from his grip now, but he countered by grabbing your hips roughly and forcing you back into the wall, pinning you there. You couldn’t move, and you didn’t want to, intent on hearing his reply. 

“You’re mine,” he said it so quietly that had you not been pressed up against the entire length of him, you wouldn’t have heard it. You let out a little giggle at his words. 

“Fuck, Spencer, is that it? I’m yours?” you shook your head a little as his grip on you tightened, his head leaning down, forehead resting against yours as you shared in each breath he took in and let out. 

“I can see that you don’t want to be in a public relationship with me, Spencer. You don’t want to tell people about us, and that’s… that’s going to have to be enough for me, but I’m not sure how long it’s going to be enough.” 

“You don’t want to be with me anymore?” he asked after a minute, taking the time to calm himself before continuing. 

“No, God, Spencer, I love you so fucking much, that is not the issue here.” 

“Then what is? Because from where I’m standing, you’ve just suggested leaving me, leaving this.” 

“You are so fucking self-possessed sometimes,” the words would probably have cut deeper had his lips not been mere centimeters from your own. “I’ll be clear. I love you and I want other people to know that I love you, and that maybe you love me, too.” 

“But we talked about this before at the start-” 

“And that was six months ago, Spencer. I need more now. And I’m honestly a little hurt that you don’t want more now.” 

“I don’t want more?” He seemed genuinely surprised by the suggestion, and the hurt in his eyes stung for the few seconds he let it linger there. Instead of using his words to explain himself, he finally closed the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips into yours fervently. 

The kiss was angry, hot. It was the feeling of being deep in an argument and knowing that you still had to fight your way out. Your lips clashed, your mouths opened and your tongues began fighting for dominance as he attempted to push his way inside of you, to make you feel the strength of his emotions that he clearly couldn’t talk through. 

After a minute, you pushed him away, panting hard. 

“I want more and more of you by the second. I want to wrap you up and possess you, I want to make it so that no one else can even look at you, I want to make it that I am the only person on this planet that can see you, and everytime I think that, I get so scared.” He spits each word at you, still lost in the venom of the moment. 

“We fight monsters everyday, and each moment I spend with you, I feel like I can understand them more and more, because I think of you the same way they think about their victims. Does that not terrify you?” 

You let your hands trail up his body and into his hair as he talks, feeling vindicated now that he is finally spilling his guts to you.

“So yes, our relationship is private, because if I got the opportunity to possess you in public, I do not know what I would do to anyone who looked at you, even if they are our closest friends.” He dropped his forehead to yours again, somehow heavier this time. 

“You’re mine.” 

You stood there, still for a minute gathering your thoughts before you spoke again. 

“Are you going to tell them or not?” you breathed out, lowly, doing your best to not let your emotions get the better of you. 

“We’ve been arguing in this closet for five minutes and twenty eight seconds, Y/N. If they’re good at their jobs, I won’t have to tell them.” 

[clrasecretdiary]

Am I allowed to cry? pt. 1 | Spencer Reid x Reader

In which you're in love with Spence, but never told him.

angst! (but don't worry, part two will be fluff)

warnings: Some light swearing and that's it i think (??)

content: Mutual pining (although spencer's side isn't really shown in this part)

a/n: I've been writing this one for 2 weeks and even deleted it once, but finally got to it and finished this!! Hope you guys like it <3

You had joined the BAU only 2 years after Spencer, and you two quickly became friends and only grew closer with time. Now, 5 years after meeting, you two we’re best friends, joined at the hip. Spencer was the greatest friend you could have, understanding and loving. Maybe that’s why your stupid brain decided to complicate things, at some point you started to see Spencer in a different light. 

One day, when you were having the worst cramps ever during a case, Spencer went out of the precinct the team was at, when he came back he had bought you chocolates and heating pads to help with the pain. You felt like you could cry, and after he gave you one of his beautiful smiles, you realized. 

Oh fuck… I'm in love with Spencer Reid.

That day, you also swore you would never tell him, there’s no way he felt the same, and you would not ruin the perfect friendship you both had. 

What you seemed to forget about was that, at some point, Spencer was going to get a date, a girlfriend or whatever, and you didn’t even stop to think how you would feel when that day arrived. 

Well... You don’t need to imagine it anymore, because it finally happened. The day before, Spencer had told you how he finally gathered the courage to ask a girl that he’d been on a few dates to be his girlfriend. Your heart sank when he delivered the news to you, though you did your best to seem enthusiastic for him. 

“Really, spence, that’s great. I'm super happy for you!” You told him, before quickly excusing yourself to the bathroom. 

You felt so dumb, you knew Spencer was not in love with you, you thought you had accepted that, so why the fuck are you feeling like the floor has been taken off your feet every time you think about him loving someone that isn’t you? God, you might be going crazy.  

You knew you wouldn't be able to keep your "omg I'm so happy for you!" facade for long. Your genius solution was to avoid him, only for some time, while you dealt with your feelings. 

You decided to talk with the only person that knew about your feelings besides you, Penelope.

You open the door to her office, “Pen, help me. I’m so stupid, my brain is broken or something” 

Penelope turns around on her chair, pulling another one for you to sit 

“Oh no honey, whatever it is you're not stupid, now, what’s happening?” 

“Spence has a date… God, I’m 27 years old, why the fuck do I care about this”  

“Ohh you’re in love, baby. Of course, you’re going to feel bad, that’s normal. Trust me, I’ve been there.” 

“Maybe… It doesn't matter anyway. I'm going to avoid him for this week, process all this shit and then everything will be back to normal” You force a smile, that was meant to pass a positivity you didn't even really feel, but it just made Penelope feel bad for you. 

“Maybe don’t do that. You know Spencer is going to notice, it’s best if you talk to him.” She says, repeating an advice she has lost count how many times she’s given you. Penelope has always been sure Spencer was into you, and always encouraged you to confess. Needless to say, you never heard her advice. 

“No, I can't. I would ruin our friendship, he would hate me. And, it would be so unfair of me, I mean… I only confess now that he has a chance with someone?” You take a deep breath, and get up from the chair  “Thanks for the chat pen, love you” You say, placing a kiss on her cheek and leaving her office. 

You really did appreciate her advice, but there’s no way you would confess to Spencer, not only would it seem petty, but you were deadly afraid to ruin your friendship… not that avoiding him was doing any good, but fuck that you’re not in the mood to be rational right now. 

You head to your desk, avoiding eye contact with Spencer and just focusing on your work when Hotch calls the team. You guys have a new case. 

“Great”  You mumble under your breath, even if being in the office would be hard to avoid Reid, having to be out on a case with him will make it impossible. That doesn't mean you're not going to try. "Im an adult and a professional, this shit should not get in the way of my work." You think to yourself as if it's a mantra to keep you focused. 

You enter the room, taking a seat between Emily and Rossi, as Hotch and Penelope brief the team you can see in your peripheral vision how Spencer's gaze shift to you, making avoiding it somehow more difficult. You're used to giving him small smiles, being beside him and always being in contact with each other somehow, he even would be fine with letting you hug him beside his germophobia, so you're sure he already noticed how distant you were being. 

"Alright, wheels up in 30, We'll get more details on the jet" 

— 

On the jet, hotch distributes the tasks, as always, he paired you up with Reid to do the geoprofiling. 

After a couple of hours, you and the team arrive at the precinct. As the rest of the team goes out to the field, you and Reid stay back doing the reading, and geoprofiling. You only speak to him when it's something regarding the case. Luckily, after a day, you guys finally makes the arrest, and soon you are back on the jet.

As soon as you arrive back to the BAU office, you just pass by Garcia's office to give her a quick goodbye and head to the elevator, ready to go home, and finally process your feelings - or better yet, force yourself to get over Spencer.

If this was under normal circumstances, you and Reid would be standing together in front of the elevator discussing which food you two would order as you watched some weird indie movie. The memory of those times brings a sharp pain to your chest, how could you be so naive? Yes, you told yourself he was not interested, but deep down between all those moments you two shared you hoped one day he would see you as something more than just a friend. 

"Hey, is everything alright? You seemed off today" Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice when Spencer stood beside you, his voice pulling you off your thoughts. 

"I'm great spence, just have a headache"

"Are you sure? You know, lying to a profiler has a very small percentage of working" 

"I'm sure, don't worry… So, is it today?" You ask, as you two step in the elevator and press the button to the garage level

"Yeah, I'm really nervous." 

"That's normal, but it'll be fine, don't worry" The elevator gets to the floor your car is at, you hold the door open and turn to him "hey, be yourself ok? She'll be lucky to have you." You say, before shooting him a small smile and getting out the elevator. 

As you walk towards your car, a few tears start streaming down your face, you've known you love him for a long time, and you now realize that you might never know what could have been between you two. Maybe Garcia was right, but now it's too late to say anything. 

[reidrum]

good night moon | s.r

A/N: hi again ! this one is deeply self indulgent i fear but who cares i hope you like it as much as i do <3 ps let me know what kinda fics i should write next !!

cw: spencer reid x bau!reader, cm type violence, reader is afab but this only is referred to when mentioning reader is a daughter, sad thoughts, hurt/comfort, talks about nightmares, spencer just wants to take care you gdm it why won’t you let him

wc: 2.4k

_______________________________________________

trudging up the stairs of the bullpen, you tried your best to use whatever sense you had left to beeline to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. thank god the bau had minimal reflective surfaces because you’re sure you look like the evil old lady from snow white. that was just, your opinion of course. to everyone else you looked fine.

fine was so subjective. what did these fuckers know about being fine? they weren’t the ones on the mission. they don’t know what you saw, how you did nothing, how you couldn’t do anything.

“FBI hands up!” you yell holding your gun and flashlight at the unsub. he’s holding the victim at knifepoint, a twelve year old girl who reminded you too much of yourself.

this unsub’s MO was kidnapping eldest daughters of families that had sons as well, because he believed the son should be the eldest child with the most responsibility and that the daughters were only there to create more babies. the team had deduced that he was the youngest child to an older sister who he felt had too much control over him, combined with his fascination with the perfect nuclear family, it slowly turned him into a sociopathic killer.

“come any closer and i’ll slit her throat!” the unsub bellowed, getting dangerously close to her carotid artery.

“you don’t wanna do that, man,” derek says behind you, “just put the knife down and we can talk.”

“there’s nothing left to talk anymore! i’m already going to prison. there’s no point.”

you called out the unsub’s name, “i know how you’re feeling, i have a younger brother too and he feels the same way you do sometimes. what your sister did to you was not okay, but not all sisters are like that. we just want to care for our family. let them have the chance to be the big sister you wished for.”

the unsub seemed to contemplate your words for a minute, then looks up at you with eyes devoid of any light, “then this one is dedicated to you, agent.” and he drags the knife across her neck leaving waterfalls of blood coming out.

you’re not really sure what happened next. a gun went off, presumably derek’s, to kill the unsub. and then it was you screaming as you rushed to the young girl to try and stop her bleeding, but it was no use. the cut was deep enough to nick that damn carotid and all you could do was hold her in her last moments.

“te- tell my family i love them, and that i’m sorry.” the young girl spurts out so softly you almost didn’t hear it.

“no sweet girl, don’t be sorry,” you say through hiccuped cries, “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you.”

the last thing you remember was feeling strong hands carrying you out of the building. you couldn’t hear much, the sound of your wails pretty much masked anything in a five mile radius. you could taste the iron lingering in your mouth from biting your lip too hard and desperately collecting the salty tears and sweat trickling down your face. at first you smelled smoke and dust, most likely from being in the cave where the unsub was. but as you were being dragged away from the crime scene you were influxxed with a musky scent, and a hint of vanilla with that fresh laundry smell. spencer. the last thing you see are his worried little brown eyes staring down at you before everything goes dark.

that was monday. it is now thursday. the case had wrapped up, the unsub was dead the families were notified and now you all were in the office doing your paperwork for the case.

and all of you were doing fine, right? everyone else had already coped and processed the case, already stepping back into their normal life routines. but you, you couldn’t have it that easy, but god you wish you did.

since that day, you’d been holing up in your apartment with all the lights turned on. you sat in your living room, eating a bowl of fruit loops and watching bluey, because listen it’s a great show and we should acknowledge it. you cry out loud seeing bluey care for her little sister bingo, and it brings you back to that dusty cave and the bloodied hands.

you could feel sleep creeping up on you, yet you subconsciously found a way to push bedtime by doing menial tasks like cleaning, extra long skincare, watching a movie. when you ran out of things to do, you entered your room and just stared at your bed. how were you supposed to admit to yourself that the horror isn’t in the movie you just watched where the creepy demons kill everyone, but it’s what is waiting for you behind closed eyelids.

so the only logical solution was to just, not sleep. you whipped out every trick in the book to stay awake for as long as you could— energy drinks, coffee, splashing cold water, anything so you wouldn’t have to reface your plagued memories.

spencer observed you from a distance. he watched as you got coffee a whopping three times before 10am, you picking at your skin, not to mention the bags growing under your eyes. it was then he formed a hypothesis, he was a scientist after all. that you simply were not sleeping because of the case. it was much less a hypothesis and more of a fact because he knew exactly what it was upon first sight of you, hell he invented the sleep avoidance look.

and as the inventor it meant he knew the feeling more intimately than he would like to admit. spencer knew what it felt like to be debilitated by the confines of your brain, holding onto shreds of memories you know are not worth remembering but have somehow marked their territory anyway. and everyone coped differently, for spencer he isolated himself for days and then threw himself into work. for you? well, that was the next part of spencer’s experiment.

spencer approaches you in the kitchen as you’re pouring your fourth cup before noon, “hi.”

“hi.”

“how are you? feels like we haven’t talked in a bit.”

“i’m good, sorry i’ve just been. busy.”

spencer frowned internally, he knew you weren’t doing a single thing but working at the office. “are you okay? do you want to talk about last week?”

you cut him off abruptly and start walking out, “i really have to finish these reports spence, talk to you later.”

spencer knew better, he should give you space to cope by yourself. you were an adult, you can take care of yourself. but you shouldn’t have to, he thinks. spencer still tells himself he knows better as he’s waiting on your doorstep that night, about to the rapp the door.

after a minute of no answer he knocks again this time calling your name through the door, “will you let me in please? i want to show you something.”

still nothing. he continues, “i know what you’re feeling, and i want to help, please.”

he almost gives up and turns around when he hears the turn of a lock and slight creek of the door opening to see you in all your beautiful glory.

now you, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes. avengers pj shorts with a baggy uni t shirt, hair flying in any direction, and a look that spencer could only describe as grief. but god if you weren’t the most beautiful human he’d seen in his life, he’d be lying.

you were coming up on day 3? or was it 4? of no sleep. it’s not like you were not sleeping at all you took little 30 minute naps each day, enough to get you some shut eye but not enough to make it your rem stage of sleep.

spencer speaks again, “can i come in?” you nod silently and open the door wider for him to step in. he removes his shoes and it’s then you notice a big ole tote bag he’s lugging to your living room.

“what’s in the bag?”

“ah, come sit. i brought magical things.” he smiles playfully.

you shuffle over to sit a seat’s cushion away from him and watch as he starts pulling item by item from his mary poppins bag.

candles, essential oils, books, but specifically romance novels with the silly cartoon covers that he swears aren’t real books but you argue with him until he concedes, melatonin gummies, pillow sleep spray, and one more item that he’s holding onto for what seems to be dramatic effect. you’re not amused.

“and the piece de resistance,” he presents the last item, and you look confused for a second, until you recognize the item in front of you and immediately start tearing up. in his hands is a grogu weighted stuffed animal that he holds out for you to take. “i know you’re not sleeping. it happened to me when, you know. i figured it would be helpful if you had someone who could empathize how you’re feeling. and because you’re my best friend and i care about you.”

your bottom lip trembles, and you feel the ice block you’ve kept yourself in this past week start to melt uncontrollably. “spence…” you breathe out so quietly. he did all this? for you? doctor spencer reid went out to the store, and bought a grogu stuffed animal for you to cuddle at night to ease your loneliness?

the concept of being taken care of was so foreign to you, as the eldest daughter in your family it was always you taking care of others and making sure everyone was okay. but rarely did anyone check on you, how you were holding up. and you had learned to cope by yourself, to handle the big emotions by yourself, but for once, someone was willing to take all that weight off your shoulders and let you breathe. and god, did it feel so cathartic you could burst out in sobs.

so you did.

“hey,” he says scooting closer to you so he can scoop you into his chest, “was that a lot? penelope said i’d probably overwhelm you but all of the things i brought are scientifically proven sleep additives-“

“no i just, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” you whimper.

spencer’s eyes soften, “you deserve it. what happened last week… was hard. i just wanted to help.”

“thank you,” he hears a muffled response and rubs his hands affectionately down your back, “damn, all this crying is making me so tired.”

“see! the magic of the poppins bag.” he chuckles. you laugh too. spencer thinks all the flowers in a mile radius just bloomed.

“it’s just,” you start out, nuzzling into his chest deeper, “the second i close my eyes and dream, i see her. and how i couldn’t save her. and how the others i couldn’t save either.” you feel your chest seizing up again.

“okay well hey, hey. you did what you were trained to do. any other agent in your position would’ve tried talking him down the way you did. and your personal story gave you an advantage that no one else would’ve had. statistically speaking, you were the best chance at getting through to him. yeah it didn’t work, but it wouldn’t be probability if it always worked,” he cradles your face in his big hands, “we’re all so proud of you, you know. rossi’s waiting for you to be back on your feet so he can host pasta night at his hou- sorry his mansion again.”

spencer looks down at you properly to your tear stained cheeks and brushes your hair back. he sees the pain and tiredness fighting behind your eyes and asks softly, “what do you need right now?”

“i’m tired.” you lament.

“then lets go sleep.”

“i can’t.”

“why not?”

“im scared.”

“well that’s why i brought the stuff silly goose,” he taps your nose, “come on, let’s go set it up.”

spencer brings all the sleep aids to your room and sets them up appropriately, even plugging in your sunrise lamp to help with the ambient lighting. the only thing left to do is for you to get into your bed.

you both stand on opposite sides of your bed, and he’s waiting for you to get in so can tuck you in. you hesitate and look up at him with the same worried eyes he saw all those days ago.

“could you stay for bit?”

“i can stay for some time if you want” you both speak at the same time. you giggle again, spencer thinks an angel got its wings.

thank god he wore sweats and a comfy t shirt he thinks. he slid in under the blanket and holds it open for you to come in, “come on, you’re missing the cuddle party with grogu and i!” you beam widely and finally sink into your bed.

spencer pulls you into his chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder blade, and the other taking a spot on your hip rubbing soft circles. you lay your head to rest on his chest, right above his beating heart. you try to let the metronomic thumps lull you to sleep, but spencer can still feel your eyelashes fluttering about on his chest. he knows what you’re thinking, because of course he does.

“look at me,” he nudges you, you look up at his eyes again and see nothing but pure love and reassurance as he continues, “you are safe. nothing can hurt you. i promise.”

“are you sure?” you let out meekly,

“i’m sure. it’s okay, go to sleep,” he presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your forehead. “i’ll be here when you wake up.”

you shakily take a deep breath, and close your eyes.

after five minutes of spencer rubbing shapes into your back, he can finally hear the soft snores coming from below. he places another kiss on your head, whispers, “good night angel girl,” and doses off.

you wake up the next morning feeling so rested and relieved you can’t help but give spencer a big hug that wakes him up. spencer thinks he’d be the luckiest man in the universe if he could wake up like this everyday.

[rynwritesreid]

Enamoured Expectations|| Spencer Reid

Summary: You and Spencer have been dating for a while (there isn’t a specific timeline in this story, so you could have been dating for as long as you want) and Penelope tells you a hunch she has.

Content: Established relationship. Use of Y/N and Y/L/N. This is all just fluff. Fem! reader.

words: 1.4k

Masterlist || Requests are open | Navigation

You were truly and utterly deeply in love with Dr Spencer Reid. You knew if you hadn’t been friends with Penelope, you two may have never met, and even if you had, you doubt that Spencer would have even given you a second look. Spencer treats you like a princess, he texts you every chance he gets when he is on a case, he buys you flowers and books when you are feeling down, he orders your favourite food when you don’t feel like eating, he calls you beautiful when you are feeling ugly, and he always says “I love you” before going anywhere.

 

Whenever the team was away on a case, you would go hangout with Penny. She was your best friend after all. You would bring her lunch and let her rant about whatever case they were all working on at the moment. She would always bring up how Spencer couldn’t shut up about you and how amazing you are. Penny thought she was the best match maker to walk on this earth.

 

On one particular evening, you were hanging out with Penny at her apartment. Spencer was away on a case, but he had called earlier to say goodnight and tell you he loved you. It was sweet and made your heart flutter with joy. You and Penny were watching a movie and munching on popcorn when she suddenly turned to you.

 

"Y/N, I have something to tell you," Penny said, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

 

"What is it?" you asked, curious.

 

"I think Spencer is planning to propose to you," she said, grinning widely.

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

Penny leaned in closer, a conspiratorial glint in her eyes. "Well, he's been acting super secretive lately, and he's been asking me a lot of questions about what kind of engagement ring you might like. Plus, he's been talking about the future a lot and how he can't wait to spend the rest of his life with you."

 

You and Spencer had talked about marriage before, you’ve even talked about having children. You had been in love with the idea of been Mrs Reid, and the mother of his children after the first month of dating each other.

 

But hearing that Spencer might be planning to propose felt surreal. You felt like you were in a dream, and you didn't want to wake up. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your hands were shaking with excitement.

 

"Penny, are you serious?" you asked, trying to contain your emotions.

 

"Dead serious," Penny replied, nodding her head. "I've never seen Spencer this happy before. I think he's finally ready to take the next step with you."

 

You felt a rush of warmth spread through your body, and you couldn't help but smile from ear to ear. You had been waiting for this moment for so long, and now it seemed like it was finally going to happen.

 

"I can't believe it," you said, still in shock. "I mean, I knew we were in love, but I didn't think he was ready for marriage yet."

 

“If you could hear how he talks about you, how he talks about his future with you, then you would understand that he most defiantly ready for marriage, and more.”

 

Penny's words hung in the air, and a smile slowly spread across your face as you felt a wave of happiness wash over you. You had always dreamed of spending your life with Spencer, and the thought of him proposing sent shivers down your spine. You could feel your heart racing as you thought about the moment when he would ask you to be his wife.

 

"Wow," you breathed, still trying to process the news. "I can't believe it. Do you really think he's going to propose?"

 

"I do," Penny said confidently. "And you know what that means, right?"

 

You raised an eyebrow at her, not sure where she was going with this.

 

"It means that you're going to have to start thinking about wedding planning," she said with a grin.

 

You laughed at her teasing tone, but inside, your mind was already racing with ideas. You had always loved the idea of a small, intimate wedding, surrounded by your closest friends and family.

 

*

Spencer had returned home from the case, he seemed down, it had obviously been a tough case. You hated seeing him like this.

 

You greeted him with a hug and a kiss, feeling happy to be in his arms again. As you both settled on the couch, you couldn't help but notice the sadness in his eyes. You reached for his hand, and he entwined his fingers with yours, holding on tight.

 

"Is everything okay, Spencer?" you asked, concerned.

 

He let out a sigh and shook his head. "It's just the case. It was a tough one, and I can't stop thinking about it."

 

“Is there any way I can help you? Do you need anything?”

 

“No. You just been here and been you is all the help I’ll ever need.”

 

You smiled at him, feeling grateful for his love and the comfort he always provided. You knew that talking about the case would help him, but you also knew that he needed some time to process everything on his own.

 

"Okay, well, if you need anything, just let me know," you said softly, pressing a kiss to his temple.

 

Spencer leaned his head on your shoulder, and you could feel his warm breath on your skin. You loved the way he fit perfectly against you, and you felt a deep sense of contentment wash over you.

 

"I missed you so much," he said, his voice muffled against your skin.

 

"I missed you too, Spencer," you replied, stroking his hair gently.

 

You loved him like this. He was open with you, he trusted you, and he was vulnerable with you. It made you feel like you had a special place in his heart, and that you were truly meant to be together. As you held him close, you knew that you would do anything to make him happy, and that included saying yes to his proposal.

 

Suddenly, Spencer sat up and turned to face you. "Y/N, there's something I need to ask you," he said, his eyes shining with intensity.

 

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes. You could see the love and affection he had for you, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.

 

"What is it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

 

Spencer took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small velvet box and handed it to you, his hands shaking slightly.

 

"Y/N, I love you with all my heart. You make me happier than I ever thought was possible, and I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. And I imagined I would do this in a different place, at a different time. But you’ve made it impossible for me to wait any longer. Miss Y/N Y/L/N will you marry me?”

 

You felt a rush of emotion flood through you as you looked at the small box in your hand. You opened it to reveal a stunning diamond ring, sparkling in the light. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you realized that this was it. The moment you had been waiting for.

 

"Yes, Spencer," you said, your voice quivering with excitement. "Yes, I will marry you."

 

Spencer's face broke into a wide grin, and he pulled you into his arms. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, and you knew that this was where you were meant to be. Together, forever, and always.

 

As you both sat there, holding each other tightly, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the love you shared. You knew that this was just the beginning of your journey together, and that there would be many more ups and downs along the way. But with Spencer by your side, you truly didn’t care.

 

The rest of the night was a blur of emotions and excitement. You called your parents, and Spencer called his mom, to share the good news. You of course called Penny, while Spencer informed everyone else on his team. Everyone was thrilled for you both. You couldn't stop staring at the ring on your finger, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.

 

This, this was it. Life was only going to get better from here. The world had brought you two together (the world basically been Penny) and you could not be more grateful. Nothing from your past, or his, mattered now. You two had a future together, a future where you would share the same name, and become a family. He was your great love, and you were his.

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[bau-drabbles]

love me not

it's hard loving someone that doesn't return the same affections

after maeve passed, they all thought reid would honestly be the next. he was a shell of a person he used to be, it honestly scared you how frail and weak he looked and your heart truly went out to him. he had found true love and the world had snatched it away from his hands before he could've enjoyed it.

you knew grief was tricky, you knew they said things they didn't mean. you knew how challenging and how painful it could be but seeing the pure rage in spencer's eyes was something you could never forget even if you desperately wished it to go. you could never forget how he looked at you with pure hatred and disgust at your lack of skill. as if the history between you both had simply vanished away, leaving nothing but pain and anguish in its wake

•••

"it was all your fault!" he sneered as he threw the gift basket behind him, the same basket you had spent hours making for him. trying to find his favourite things and even enlisting garcia and jj for help. but it didn't matter now, they were all crumped behind him and you feel yourself deflating as he continues the harsh words.

"you could've surrounded the area, you could've the shot from the back. you could've have done more" he stood, his hair tousled and messy but his eyes were dark with rage. that was new, he never gave you that look before and it rattled you.

"the main priority was you spencer! i-" "no, it was maeve. she was the victim in that situation! thanks to you, her parents lost their only daughter and i lost the only woman i ever loved!" he snapped vehemently, his fists balled up and slamming into the table. the sound shocked you and you look at him with pure confusion and pain

"what?" your voice was so soft, so fragile as you stare at him. your eyes were prickling with tears at how cruel he cold be, making you think if you ever truly knew reid.

so wordlessly, you stood up and walked out of his apartment and towards your car ignoring any and all comments he made. ignoring how he shouted your name, ignoring how he slammed his door when you left.

"you don't know what i mean. you wouldn't know what love is, how could you?" there's so much malice in his voice, it doesn't sound like the spencer you knew. and the very thought makes you want to cry. you tried to defend yourself but in the midst of the moment, seeing him so enraged at you for no reason, its as if those rose coloured glasses had fallen and you saw reid for what he truly was.

that the man you thought he was, the perfected imagine in your head, the romantic and funny and kind hearted doctor reid really only existed to maeve. he never extended that courtesy to you, and now you were an outsider to him. you had killed his one true love and with that, you had killed any love he had for you.

hot angry tears spilled down your cheeks when you reached home, your head swimming at what he had said to you. as much as you tried to force yourself to believe it wasn't him saying these things, you couldn't count how many times he left you feeling like pure shit. you held him in such a high regard but he never did the same to you, you didn't matter the same to him. it was hard because he was grieving and you knew it was a messy process but the pain and the ache in your heart felt so overwhelming.

it was enough, he was mourning someone that was dead. you were mourning a person that was well and truly alive.

•••

after weeks reid had finally come into work, greeting all the team members but you had made sure to stay out of the way. the pure rage that bubbled inside of you wasn't yet securely tightened and you weren't about to cause a scene in the bau.

and he noticed, of course he did.

when everyone hugged and rejoiced that their boy wonder finally came back, you watched from the background. you made no effort to walk towards him, no effort to hug so you just observed with a numbness in your heart that threatened to swallow you whole. he looked at you with a soft smile but you had turned your back, walking back into your office feeling more furious by the second of being anywhere near him.

when everyone sat into the chairs ready to discuss the next case, he noted how you chose the one that was most far away from him. when he tried to make eye contact you kept your gaze to your files or to penelope that explained the gory details.

when it came to sitting on the jet, you made sure someone had sat next to you so he couldn't. even when he was paired with you on a case, you only spoke about the facts and nothing more. he tried to talk but you shut it down, not responding unless it was about the case.

and you were okay with going about it like this. it hurt like a bitch but this way, you couldn't fall into mind numbing fantasies that the thought of you and reid could ever go anywhere. it wasn't the most healthy, sure. but this way, your heart and your head were protected from any links with reid. he was dr reid to you. nothing more, nothing less.

but the last straw was when he turned up to your home, knocking at some ungodly hour while you practically hold back your frustrations by a string. seeing him standing at your door step, tousled hair, dark eyes you have to force your arms back from touching him.

"go home" you utter, avoiding his touch like he was poisoned and trying to side step him to get him away from you

"i can't. i can't go unless this gets this resolved, please" he blocked your path and you tried to reign in the emotions. but with every passing moment, it was becoming incredibly hard to do so.

"and you'd do what?? you thought you'd come here like some prince charming and help me??? this isn't some fairytale reid, wake up" you scoffed and he just stood there completely in shock until it switched to pain and then anger

"why are you being so mean?" his voice was soft but his face had hardened, his eyebrows furrowing at you. that was the straw that broke your back, the fact that he continued to remain ignorant despite everything he had put you through

"you still don't get it, do you??" a humourless chuckle fell from your lips, eyeing him again. the rage felt completely overwhelming but behind that, there was grief. for the person you wish he was, for the man you used to adore. and you so desperately want yourself to be enveloped with the promise of a happy ever after with spencer reid but the truth was, you could never have that. not in this life, he wasn't yours to have nor hold. he wasn't yours to cherish and love.

he shrugs his shoulders, gesturing around eyes wide as he presses you further for the information

"i have supported you throughout this grief despite you being so mean to me reid. i helped you because i didn't want you to suffer alone and yeah, maybe that was my mistake," your eyes were beginning to prick with unshed tears that shone underneath the lights. every anger he had in the past moment has all deflated and he's standing there, looking at you with such a sadness you could almost drown in it.

"i didn't ask for that" his voice was low, his eyes red as the tears welled up.

"you didn't have to! that's what friends do! i loved you reid, more than i ever thought i could" your voice had turned into a soft whisper, tears spilling down your cheeks but you hastily wiped them away

"y/n" he steps forwards but in return you take one back. you wouldn't let him cloud your judgement tonight, he had taken up far too much space in your heart and mind already.

"but that was then. this is now" your voice is firm, looking at him with so many emotions you're not sure which is the most dominant.

"i did everything i could've though to do. i was there outside your damn door, not moving until i heard you eat something. i was there, pretending to walk away so that when you finally showed face, you were still alive. i didn't do that to receive validation, the only thing i wanted to do was to make sure you were okay. but to accuse me of maeve's murder like that..." your voice was pained, as if you still couldn't really believe the extent he had gone to, to make you feel so bad.

"i-i'm sorry y/n" his own voice barely escapes him but you're through with it. all the deceit, the hatred, the lies, the anger, all of it.

"i don't ever want to see you again. i don't want you coming by here anymore. you once asked me what love is? it's this" coming to your full height you walk towards your front door and open it. it's the most hardest thing you've had to do in a while saying goodbye to the man who holds your entire heart. but breaking your heart now meant that he couldn't make it shatter later on.

"y/n please don't do this. i-i love you, i do" if he had said these words to you a mere few weeks ago, how you would've embraced him without a single doubt. he was better than anyone you've ever met and all you truly wanted was his love, to bathe and bask in it.

but you take no notice now, opening the door wider.

"loving you is hard enough, don't make me hate you" your voice trembles and try as you might, it's difficult to stay strong when you feel like you're drowning in your despair.

"please don't do this" his voice shook as the tears he had been holding back finally trailed down his cheeks. he looked absolutely exhausted, so close to breaking but for the first time since you had met reid, you chose yourself. for you knew deep down maeve would always occupy his heart and you could never come close to the fire he burned for her. your love would simply diminish and extinguish, it could never be enough for him.

when he leaves, your back meets your front door. you covered your mouth as short shaky breaths left your lips, the floodgates were well and truly wide open now, the pure devastation and anguish leaving your eyes as you cradle yourself close. but it was better this way. better to face to hard cold reality that reid could never be yours than to envelope yourself with the sweetest lies that he could change.

and spencer was behind your door, his forehead meeting your door as his shoulders shake with all the pain in his heart. a million thoughts in his head and yet not one could pass his lips. his palm flattened over the door, trying but failing to muster up the courage to rap his knuckles again. to make you understand, to make you see that he loved you. that he needed you, that he yearned to be with you. that you were what he needed and he needed your comfort and your help and your presence

but the hand never knocked and all he could do was stand there with choked sobs leaving his lips. his forehead leaning against your front door, never once being so close and yet so incredibly far away from you

[lov1ngreid]

BOYS LIKE YOU | 2

back to PART ONE

(pairings): highschool!spencer + cheerleader!reader

(warnings): none <3

(word count): 4K

(author’s note): hii i’m so happy to see all the love on part one! i’m so sorry this took a little longer than usual to be posted i’ve had a busy few days, i’ve got plans for one more part for this series, i hope you’ve enjoyed so far 🩷🩷 also I don’t know how i feel about the end of this part, so let me know any feedback!!

listen to what i did when i wrote this! ➘

Quickly, you opened his bedroom door to stand at the top of the stairwell, scanning over the living room with ease considering how high up you were. Making sure both your families were occupied with whatever thanksgiving nonsense had presented itself.

Quickly turning your head back to Spencer who stood in the doorway of his bedroom incredibly confused, you silently gestured to him to follow you with the nod of your head, it takes him a few seconds of internally fighting himself before he follows your lead, hopping down the stairs a few beats behind you before the both of you reach the bottom.

“You ready?” You say, getting on your tippy toes to whisper it quietly in his ear, you almost had forgotten how tall he was.

Confused, Spencer’s brows furrow before answering “ready for wh- Ow!” He groaned, hunching over a little at the pain, you felt a little bad for kicking him in the ankle with your boot, but you knew he deserved it a little for being so mean about your cupcake.

“Oh no!” You exclaimed, obviously acting to Spencer but you seemed to have convinced everyone else “I think Spencer sprained his ankle!” Gasping you pretend to comfort him moving him to the dining room chair as he glared at you from the side of his eye, almost instantly his parents had rushed over to the both of you instantly drowning him in worry.

“Are you okay sweetie?” Diana rushed reaching down to touch the ankle he had his hand over, he took a second to look up at you before answering.

“I don’t think so, it really hurts” he huffed rubbing the ankle in question, it shouldn’t have made you smile, but you thought it was sweet that he was going along with your plan and not immediately telling everyone you had just kicked him in the ankle.

It was like when you were kids creating elaborate stories as to why you needed $20 from your parents, claiming it was so you could buy a new textbook for class, when you really just bought Call of duty and played it in his room.

“I can take him to the ER” you offer looking down at Diana “he really shouldn’t be walking on it” nodding, you look between her and Spencer, attempting to read her facial expressions for any suspicions that this one really one big lie.

She looks up at Spencer for a moment, breaking her gaze with him to look at you before nodding “I think that’s a good idea” she smiles reaching up from Spencer to grab your hand in hers, you feel her soft warm palms grasp yours before she rushes to the kitchen for a moment.

Having both your families huddled around the both of you made keeping up the facade incredibly difficult, sure, you could lie to just about everyone and anyone, but lying to your family who knew you more than anything was beginning to become a little difficult.

Diana rushes back with an ice pack before leaning back down to Spencer’s ankle to press it against the bone softly. “Here” your dad mumbles, fishing his car keys from his left pant pocket before tossing them in your direction, so unexpectedly that you barely catch them, fumbling them in the process which causes Spencer to laugh a little beside you.

The first time you had heard him laugh all night, the first time you had heard him laugh in years.

“You’re dead if you scratch that car” your dad sternly tells you before he takes another swig of his beer, pressing your lips together nodding quickly, you glance back down at Spencer for a second seeing a small smirk grow on his face knowing everyone had believed your little coordinated stunt.

After a few moments of hustle, you recruit Brodie to help hobble Spencer out to the black suv as both your parents follow behind, you were still shocked that the scheme had even worked, and that Spencer had gone through with it.

“Why are you here?”

“I thought I’d come along?” Brodie shrugged, clicking his seatbelt before switching his gaze from the backseat between both you and Spencer.

“Get out” you smile nodding for him to leave.

“Why?” He spits, suspicions growing in his mind as his gaze flicks faster between you and Spencer “and since when are you guys even friends?” confused his mouth agape while memories of both Spencer and you being absent from the night caught up to him, if you were going to get away with something, it wasn’t going to be with brodie, that boy was seemingly always one step ahead of you.

He continues to look between the both of you as you both stammer for a response “Oh gross!” He exclaims unbuckling his seatbelt in an instance “are you guys hooking up?” His mouth drops, absolutely staggered by his own conclusion.

Seemingly one step ahead.

You and Spencer stare at each other mouths agape before Spencer begins to loudly, and rudely start fake gagging in response to Brodie claims, shocked you slap Spencer on the shoulder shaking your head in offense, there is no way on earth that boy was seriously fake gagging at the thought of hooking up with you.

“I don’t think there’s a single universe where that would happen” Spencer presses his lips together rubbing his arm where you had inflicted your second act of violence against him tonight.

“Oh?…” Brodie trails off, still incredibly confused on what sort of game you both were playing here.

“I’ll you don’t leave I’ll tell mom how you accidentally linked her credit card to your ark account”

“Okay see ya!” His eyebrows raised before scurrying out of the backseat of the car slamming the door behind him.

You and Spencer sit in comfortable silence for a moment taking deep breaths, both shocked your plan had actually worked.

After a few minutes you break the silence “by the way, in that alternate universe where we don’t hook up, is because I rejected you not the other way around” you point at him before buckling your seatbelt, Spencer only responds by holding his hands up in defense.

The car ride was almost silent other than the sound of the radio quietly playing and your blinker clicking away at each turn, Spencer spent the time gazing out the passenger window watching the houses zoom past him and watched the trees sway in the wind. His mind catches up when he sees the familiar 2 storey white paneled house with your baby blue volkswagen beetle convertible parked in the driveway.

“Why are we at your house?” Spencer questions, concerned, every possible situation flashes through his mind, were you pranking him? Were all your friends waiting there to laugh at him?

You switched the car off before turning to answer “did you think you were going wearing that?” Raking your eyes across his outfit, cringing again at the sight of it “it’s thanksgiving, you’d think you’d at least wear something nice” scoffing you open the drivers seat door before hurrying into your home.

Spencer opens his door before rushing to trail behind you “this is my nice doctor who shirt” he mumbles looking down at his own outfit, ignoring whatever loser sentence had just come from his mouth you push open your door nodding for him to follow.

You don’t turn around to make sure he’s keeping up with you before you hurry up the stairs making a beeline for your bedroom, once Spencer realizes where you’re headed, his footsteps behind you slow down a little only causing you to turn around confused.

“Um I don’t think I should go in there” he mumbled, staring at your bedroom door like he had just seen a ghost.

“Why?” You question, confusion painted over your face.

“It’s just- I don’t know, I just don’t want to” he rushed, face turning pink in embarrassment, it was as if any sort of confidence he had before completely diminished in front of you.

What if he was right? All your friends were sitting in there waiting for him to enter obliviously. He could only imagine how loud their laughs would be, he could almost hear it ringing through his ears.

Tilting your head you watch Spencer as he stands in shock staring at your door, you wave your hand in front of his face, clicking him out of whatever world he had entered “You’re scared of my room?”

“No- no… there’s no one in there, is there?” He sheepishly responds, pink traveling up to the tips of his ears.

“Yeah Spence the whole cheer squad is in there” the colour instantly drains from his pink embarrassment ridden face “no, there’s no one in my room… weirdo” you whisper pulling the door handle to swing it open, Spencer almost flinched at the sight of your bedroom.

Unlike his, your room was completely re arranged, the colour of your walls even had even been painted from pastel pink to light grey. He took a moment to scan around the room, everything had a place, every colour cohesive. He paused a little when he glanced at the numerous photo frames scattered across your bedroom, frames that once held photos of you at dance competitions, photos of you and Spencer riding your bikes or at your birthday parties, had been replaced by photos of your cheer team or you and your group of friends at parties.

Except for the picture frame on your bedside table, inserted with a photo of the both of you from science camp discovering how hydrogen peroxide and potassium iodide reacted for the first time.

He felt his heart unwillingly tighten at the thought that you still cared about him at least a little.

“Alright” you mumble digging through your wardrobe drawers completely oblivious to Spencer wandering your room deep in thought “here!” You exclaim pulling the grey hoodie from the bottom of your drawer, you chuck it at Spencer unexpectedly causing him to stumble backwards a little at the impact.

“Who’s is this?” he wonders, holding the hoodie up to see the garment, which was evidently much too large for you.

“Mine” you answer, while you tried to tidy up your now messy wardrobe, he shoots you a look, and despite you not being able to see, you could feel it by the silence “I like to buy boys hoodies” shrugging you stand back up brushing past him to Brodies room, in search of some pants, letting out a little ‘aha!’ when you found the one nice pair of jeans brodie owned, which you had bought.

You tossed the jeans at his chest which is he surprisingly caught this time around. You stood in the doorway of your room for a moment while Spencer held the pile of clothes in his arms, stunned like a deer in headlights.

“I’m gonna go downstairs so you can change” you nod before closing the door and hopping down the stairs before he could respond.

You hadn’t even had time to check your phone since you had gotten to thanksgiving, switching it on, the screen filled with numerous group chat messages and texts from your friends asking if you were still coming, which only earned a groan from you, you loved your friends, really, but sometimes it felt like they always wanted something from you.

Snapped out of your thoughts by your door snapping closed, you look up from the kitchen island to see Spencer’s black converse stepping down the stairs.

You’d never actually seen him wear anything other than graphic T-shirt’s and sweaters before, and although you thought those were indeed very him. It was like you were seeing a completely different version of him.

a version that didn’t dress like a clone of your brother.

“I feel stupid” he chuckles looking down at what he was wearing.

“You look cute” you smile at him laughing a little before switching your attention back to your phone.

Although a small gesture from you, your words made Spencer huff with a loss of breath, not one person in his entire life besides his mother had called him cute, other than you.

He stood there reminded of the times you used to ensure he looked cute while wearing a tree costume for the annual middle school play, or when he broke his arm and you had to convince him he looked fine with his cast, although he felt stupid you had told him he looked cute, you even drew pink hearts on his cast to make sure he knew.

But you called everyone that, he knew it was your favourite adjective.

“Alright” you chirp snapping him from his thoughts “you ready to go?” Spencer fizzles out from his thoughts to respond with a nod, which you return with a smile grabbing your keys from the kitchen bench.

The car ride remained silence for the most part, ears filled with the speakers softly playing Faye Webster and the sounds of cars buzzing around you.

“You know, you’re a lot quieter then when I tried giving you that cupcake” you chuckle turning for a moment to look at Spencer’s jawline as he gazed out the passenger window.

You only watched him shrug from the corner of your eye before responding “I feel safer in my room… in my house I guess” mumbling Spencer looks down at his lap before he starts to pick at his fingers.

You glance over again, watching how the red like from the traffic light shone over his face, you lick your lips before answering “I like it when you’re nice to me” you admit sheepishly snapping your head to meet the road again.

“I’d like it if your friends were nice to me” he mumbles again not daring to meet your eyes scared of your reaction.

“What?” You respond furrowing your brows in confusion “are they not nice to you?” A concerned look shoots through your face turning to face Spencer once again, this time his gaze meets yours simultaneously.

Spencer’s face reads confused as well, why were you confused? You’d been at high school for almost 4 years at this point, you’d had to be stupid to not realise the social ladder that your peers had created to make people like Spencer feel inferior.

“Are you kidding?” He responds, same confused look painted across his face “they’re not nice to anyone but themselves, you’d have to be blind not to see it” convinced you were playing some sort of game, he doesn’t show any sort of affection in response, but he knew you weren’t stupid.

You both sit in silence for a minute before you muster up a response, you weren’t stupid, you knew your friends weren’t the nicest to everyone but you convinced yourself that if you never indulged it didn’t count, you were never mean to anyone so you never felt as if you had their words on your conscious.

Selfishly because they were never mean to anyone you really cared about, you thought.

“Am I mean to you?” You questioned quickly, searching his face for a reaction, it only twisted in question before he responded.

“I don’t think so” he whispers softly which you barely register over the music.

You knew you were, not outright mean but mean by association, you never stopped their comments about passing by students, you usually never indulged but you were just as mean for letting them go so nonchalantly, cause although not about Spencer, they were about somebody’s Spencer.

It’s almost like you could feel Spencer’s heart beating yourself, the view of the 3 storey modern shaped grey and white home was enough to make Spencer’s heart beat spike while he watched people run in and out of the house, people he knew, people he had classes with.

You couldn’t help yourself but reach over to grab Spencer’s cool hand “you’ll be fine” you nodded giving it a squeeze before letting go to unbuckle your seatbelt.

His heart did something other than beat profusely, it tightened as you dropped his hand, and he hated it.

Trailing behind you like a lost puppy he took a moment to examine his surroundings, he recognised almost every person stumbling in and out of the house from classes or kids he tutored.

Almost instantly, you were embraced by a wave of girls who he had recognised as your cheer friends, laughing and giggling while they squealed about your outfit and hair, he stood behind you feeling like he was made from glass being absolutely ignored by anyone in his vicinity.

He stood staring at the tops of his laces for a moment, the sounds of loud music and chatter filling his ears as he waited for you to turn your attention to him instead.

“Ready?” You chirp as your friends wondered off in different directions, you told them not to wait up, and frankly they were much too indulged in themselves to even register the 6 foot boy hiding behind you like a child.

The last time you had asked if he was ready, you sent your shoe straight to his ankle so he shot a confused look in your direction.

Noticing his concern you chuckle before grabbing his hand to drag him through the sea of drunken teenagers.

He looked down at your hand, your cool rings flush against his own, his eyes widened a little when he felt his heart beat a little faster at the contact, and god he couldn’t stand it.

Eventually you dragged him to the kitchen where only two people had occupied, you dropped his hand behind you to embrace the girl sitting on top of the kitchen island, Spencer recognised her, you and Gianna had been friends since the first day of high school, and she was the only one of your friends Spencer could stand.

“Oh hi Spencer!” She smiled after breaking from your hug, she took a swig of her cup before taking a chance to scan over his outfit “not to be mean or anything, but did you get invit-” although she asked innocently you slapped her in the arm before she could continue.

“I have a love story to witness” smiling you nudge Spencer in the shoulder a little only earning his cheeks to turn pink as he looked down at his shoes a little longer “Sadie Keller has a big fat crush on him and so does he” you laugh making your way over to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water, Spencer only nervously laughed at your words.

“Sadie Keller?” Gianna questions tilting her head a little earning a shy nod from Spencer “oh! are you her tutor?” She points at Spencer grinning a little.

“Um..” he mumbled turning to face you “yeah”

“God, she doesn’t stop yapping about you” giggling she takes another sip from her cup, she turns around for a moment scanning through the crowd “Sadie!” She yelled flailing her arm to grab her attention.

Almost frantically he turns to you who looked more than entertained seeing how embarrassed he got, you both look up at the sea of people watching as Sadie’s cherry red hair gets closer and closer pushing through the crowd of teenagers.

Spencer jumps a little at the grasp of your hand again, smiling up at him for a second giving his cold hand a squeeze “good luck Spence” you nod before you beckon Gianna from the kitchen island to leave spencer to fend for himself.

Spencer’s eyes follow you as you walk to the direction of the pool arm in arm with Gianna, before snapping to the pretty girl in front of him.

Your heart tightens just a little as you leave him there, furrowing eyebrows as you notice the feeling, the same feeling you had in seventh grade when he got partnered up with Ava Milligan instead of you.

The sounds of the thumping music fades out at you both walk to the pool outside taking a seat on the edge, it was typical for you and Gianna to sit at the pool together at parties, she was the only person that agreed the party scene wasn’t her favourite, you both were homebodies, but high school hustle made not attending parties sound like social suicide.

Giggling as you slipped your boots and socks off to dip your feet in the cool pool you both sit for a little leaning on each other in a comfortable silence in each others company.

You can’t help but glance through the glass doors into the kitchen, and feel the way your heart thumps at the view of Spencer and Sadie sitting on the kitchen island giggling at god knows what.

What could they possibly be laughing about? what could she have possibly said to make him laugh?

“Okay spill” Gianna mutters, snapping you from your Spencer induced trance, you only shoot her a confused look back “You show up at a party with the boy you’ve been in love with for like forever, I know something’s going on in that pretty little head” she chuckles nudging you a little, causing you to laugh in response.

“I’m not in love with him” you mumble back turning your attention to your feet swaying in the cool water, she raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing a word coming from your mouth.

“Okay, you keep thinking that” she smiles slinging her arm over your shoulder while your heads lean together gazing at the blue water “I just didn’t think you’d pass him off so easily… you know he looks at you the same way you look at him, deny it all you want” she whispers, only the faint sounds of the party and the small water splashing occupying your ears.

You knew she was right, god you were in love with Spencer Reid no matter how much you wanted to deny it, that’s why you kept his stupid photo on your bedside table, and why you made cupcakes every thanksgiving, and why him completely shutting you out hurt so much.

Giannas head lifts from your shoulder at the sound of the glass door snapping shut, your eyes raise to meet Spencer standing there smiling a little at you “my queue to leave” Gianna laughs before leaving a kiss on the top of your head before hopping up from the pool edge grabbing her shoes in one hand nodding at Spencer as they brushed past each other, she turns around to mouth a quick ‘good luck’ before returning to the commotion of the party.

“How’d it go” you beam as he made his way down to sit next to you criss cross at the pool.

“Good… I think but she asked me to go ice skating” he mumbles furrowing his brows a little.

“That’s great!” You foreign excitement reaching to grab his shoulder “why do you look so sad about it?”

“God..” he groans reaching to rub his face with his hands “I can’t ice skate”

You giggle a little at his despair “sure you can… we went together in sixth grade remember?”

“I broke my arm that day”

“Oh” you respond, memories flashing through your head “you did didn’t you, you had that cute little cast I used to draw hearts over” giggling at the memory you continue to swish your feet in the water.

There was that feeling again, his heart thumping a little louder than before, it was like anytime you said something about him that he was sure you wouldn’t remember, his heart skipped a beat, and he could feel his palms get warmer.

“I’ll teach you” you smile pulling him from his thoughts “I don’t think Sadie will want to drive you to the ER for another broken arm” you chuckle bringing your lip up to your teeth for a moment.

“Think of it as a practice date”

“A practice date it is” he chuckles smiling back at you, you both meet each others gaze for a moment, you felt a pit grow in the bottom of your stomach as you both sit in silence searching in each others eyes.

You never could admit it, but he was still the boy you fell in love with in fifth grade, and you were still the girl in love with him.

PART THREE

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