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sincerelybubbles · 6 months ago

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it's a date || spencer reid x reader

part 2

warnings: cannon-typical violence/mentions of murder and kidnapping, slow burn, fluff!, early seasons spencer, not proof read

word count: 6.1k

You sigh and crack your knuckles, staring down at the pot simmering on the stove. You know that the sauce would be okay if you left it for a few minutes, did something else, but you remain standing, uselessly stirring it every few seconds. Truthfully, you’re bored. Your mind shifts from cooking to work tomorrow, itching to pull out your documents and scan through them one more time. But you know you shouldn’t, advise about work-life balance tugging at your attention.

You’re debating if you should pick up a book and try to read, something light to take your mind off of the day, when a knock sounds from the front door. Your dog, Penny, a lovely golden retriever you rescued a few years ago, lets out a weak woof before slowly standing and trotting to the door. She’s old, more grey than golden, but she never fails to answer the door with you.

You turn the stove off and move the pot off of the burner, wiping your hands as you walk, when another knock echoes through the hallway. It’s sharp, official, loud. The sound fills you with anxiety. You stand on your toes to look out of the peephole.

“Hello?” You ask through the door, not recognizing the men standing outside and seeing no package in sight.

“Hello, Jason Gideon, FBI, could we have a word?” The older man says, voice stern but not unkind.

You open the door without unlatching the chain, peering out through the crack. “FBI?”

Jason Gideon, the one who spoke, pulls out his badge first. The lankier man next to him follows in suit. Your eyes linger on him for a second longer than the other agent, taking in his toussled brown hair. You scan the badges for a second before shutting the door to undo the chain.

“Sorry, you can’t be too careful, you know?”

“Oh, we know that all too well,” Gideon says good-naturedly, “it’s good to be cautious.”

He asks your name, you give it, and nods sharply, looking to his partner. “Well, like I said, I’m Jason Gideon with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI, and this is my partner Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Well, come on in, Agent Gideon and Dr. Reid,” you say, waving them both in and shutting the door.

“Just Gideon is fine.”

Dr. Reid sends you a tight lipped smile as he walks in, adjusting his shirt and otherwise avoiding your gaze. He seems nervous.

“Would you two like something to drink while you tell me why you’re here? Coffee, tea, water?” You ask, twisting the dishcloth between your hands as you lead them inside.

“I wouldn’t say no to some coffee,” Gideon says. You nod and turn to Dr. Reid, who is staring at you with his mouth slightly agape.

“Oh, yeah, coffee for me too, please.”

“Of course, have a seat,” you say, waving them to the small table in your kitchen and moving to prepare their drinks. Neither of them sit.

“How well do you know your neighbors?” Gideon asks as you start the coffee.

You shrug. “As well as anyone does these days, I guess. I wave when I drive past them, smile when they’re out front at the same time. Why, has something happened? I saw the police cars earlier, on my way home from work, but I haven’t heard anything else.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dr. Reid says, even though he looks your age, maybe even a few years older. “Your neighbor across the street was murdered last night, Mrs. Furgison, and her eight-year-old son is missing. Did you hear anything?”

You fall still, facing away from the two officers. Numb, you shake your head, “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t home last night. I was watching my niece for my sister.” You turn around to face them, leaning back against the counter. “But there are cameras outside, I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?” “Yes,” Gideon confirms with a nod. “Would you be okay if we took a look at the last few weeks of footage if you have it?”

“You want to see if he’s been visiting before last night,” you mumble, nodding. “Yes, of course.”

“Do you work in law enforcement?” Dr. Reid asks, the question erupting from him like he couldn’t hold it back. “You’re shockingly calm and seem to know what we’re going to ask before we get to it.”

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle, waving a hand in the air and turning to pull the pot of coffee out. “BAU, of course, you’d see right through me. I’m a victim liaison. I read through this process hundreds of times a week. Sugar?”

“No, thanks,” Gideon answers as Dr. Reid blurts out, “Yes, please.”

You set the mugs on the kitchen counter along with a container of sugar.

“Help yourself, I’ll grab my laptop to get those files for you.”

When you come back, laptop in tow, Gideon and Dr. Reid are having a hushed conversation, both holding their mugs of coffee. You round the corner slowly but loudly, aware that sometimes agents can be jumpy. Gideon smiles at you while Dr. Reid looks over sharply.

It fits, given their ages and presumably how long each have been in the field. You try to send him a reassuring smile. He reciprocates but still looks obviously awkward, fixing his hair and taking a sip of coffee.

“Would you like me to put the files on a USB? Email them somewhere? Or just,” you motion with the computer, offering it over.

“I can take it,” Dr. Reid offers, “send the files to Garcia.”

You let him, passing him the computer easily. With your job, the government is already elbows deep in that laptop, anyway; you have nothing to hide.

You watch as Dr. Reid begins typing away on your computer, leaning over the table and resting his forearms on the edge.

Both of the agents are dressed professionally: button-down shirts, slacks, dress shoes. Guns ready at the hip.

“You like to cook?” Gideon asks, nodding toward your forgotten pasta on the stove.

“Yes and no,” you admit, chuckling and turning your attention to him. “It always tastes better than takeout but it’s hard to get the motivation. Are you hungry? Can I offer you anything else?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”

“Of course. I know how overworked you lot can be.” You cross your arms and lean back against your counter. “What about you? Do you cook?”

“Not as often as I should,” he admits, smiling sadly. “Victim liaison, you said?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You seem a little young.” “Could say the same about him.” You nod at Dr. Reid who doesn’t hear you, too focused on his work. “But I guess drive and pretty much no social life can get you anywhere,” you admit with a laugh.

“Garcia should have the files in a minute,” Dr. Reid interrupts, looking up from your laptop.

“I’ll give her a call.”

He steps out with a nod to you, walking back into the front hallway of your small home and leaving you alone with the doctor.

He opens his mouth to say something before his eyes focus over your shoulder and his attention is stolen. “Sorry,” he says, moving past you and into your living room, toward your bookshelf. “Is that a Russian copy of Crime and Punishment?” He asks, brushing his finger over the spine of the book.

“Oh, yeah, it is.” You follow him, staring up at your own bookshelf like you’ve never seen it before. It’s crammed full of books. There are more filling your bedroom down the hall as well. “It’s a slow read, I have to use a lexicon a lot of the time, but I sort of like the work. Translating’s a hobby of mine, I guess. When I have time. Sorry, that might be weird.”

“No, it’s not weird at all! Not to me, at least. Are you using a Dictionary-based lexicon? Can I see it? I have one that I love. I haven’t read much Russian but I have one for Greek. They’re rarely used anymore, falling out of popularity with the creation of the internet where everything is readily available to just search up, but I find them fascinating and I’ve never seen one for Russian before.”

He talks enthusiastically with his hands. His eyes shine, the interest lighting up his face. You think, before you remember the reason why he’s there, that he’s actually quite handsome. You become slightly breathless at the realization. You don’t really notice people like this often. But, towering above you, buttoned shirt pushed up to show his forearms and a self-concious smile stretching across his face, you’re a little flustered.

You take a breath, remembering that your neighbor is dead and a little boy is missing, sending Dr. Reid a small smile and motioning behind you.

“It’s in my office if you want to go look at it. I prefer it to just typing out the stuff I don’t know — mostly because I don’t have a Russian keyboard — and it’s easier to learn when you have to research it.”

“I would actually love –”

“Reid,” Gideon interrupts, ending his call, “Garcia got the files, we have to go.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Thank you so much for your help,” Gideon says, walking toward you and offering his hand. “And for the coffee. So sorry to have interrupted your cooking.”

“Anytime detective,” you say, shaking his hand and smiling up at him, “always happy to help. I can give you my card if you need anything else?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

You rush to your bag to pull out one of your cards and hand it to Gideon before turning to offer Dr. Reid your hand.

“It was nice to meet you, too, Dr. Reid.”

He takes your hand firmly. “Spencer’s fine,” he says, stumbling over his words slightly but still smiling. “Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime,” you repeat, letting them out and returning to your sad pasta.

Your mind wonders, not to the murder or kidnapping, but to Spencer Reid. Wide brown eyes, tousled hair pushed out of his face, a sweet smile. Smart, too. Way too smart.

You’re not exactly experienced when it comes to dating, you hadn’t lied to Gideon when you said you don’t make time for a social life, dating included, but you do know that an interest in a too-smart profiler might spell bad news.

Still, as you portion out your meal, you can’t help but think that you’re feeling awfully motivated to return to working on Crime and Punishment. You don’t lie to yourself about the origins of this sudden spark of motivation, but you do rationalize it. What’s the harm in a fleeting crush, then? Especially if it gives you the push to finally finish one of the many projects hanging on your ever-growing list?

You suppose you might see them arround the office if they’re working in this jurisdiction, but then he’ll be gone and it’ll fade away. In the meantime, you make yourself a plate of food and settle down in your living room with the book and lexicon.

||||

“Well, that certainly poses an interesting problem,” you hear Cheif Saunders say as you walk into the police department the next morning, arms full of files ready for sorting.

You round the corner to escape this attention but aren’t fast enough and he calls you over by name. Cringing, you turn on your heel and are faced, once again, with Gideon and Spencer. With them are two more men and two girls, all intimidating and confident.

All FBI, if you had to wager a bet.

“Morning,” you say, nodding to Gideon and Spencer respectively. “Nice to see you two again.”

“You’ve met?” The tall man next to Gideon asks, pointing the question to Spencer. He grins, white teeth overtaking his dark, handsome face. He reaches his hand out to shake yours, “Morgan, nice to meet you.”

You introduce yourself, explain your position, and receive introductions from JJ, Elle, and Hotchner as well.

“Where did you meet our friends?” Chief Saunders asks, folding his hands in front of him and setting an accusatory glare on you. “Still preening for a new job?”

“No sir,” you say, uncomfortable. The chief is often cold with you, refusing to acknowledge your knowledge or work. When he found that you were looking to transfer stations to the one a district over, he’d still thrown a fit, though. You guess he can’t ignore how well your numbers reflect on him as easily as he deflects your accomplishments to your face.

“We stopped by to get access to her cameras, she lives across the street from the Furgison’s,” Gideon explains, watchful eyes glancing between you and the chief.

“They proved to be surprisingly useful,” Spencer interrupts. “We now know the make, model, and color of the unsubs car as well as his general height. Garcia is still trying to make out plates, but we are able to confirm at least pieces of our profile with the information.”

“You live across the street?” The chief asks, still staring at you. You shift your weight, holding the files closer to your chest.

“Yes, sir. In a duplex.”

“Then, fellas, I’ve found the solution to our problem. You’ll set up with our little liaison, then.”

“Sorry?” You ask, startled.

“We have reason to believe that the unsub is returning to the crime scenes after the police have left the area and allowed the family to return. But, if we know our guy, and we think we do,” Elle says, begrudingly, “he’s smart. He’s going to notice if we’re camped out in a car. And, in a residential street, it’s much harder to hide in a building.”

“So, you’ll have the opportunity to make yourself useful,” Chief Saunders chuckles, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder and shaking you.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Gideon adds, glancing at you with a patient expression.

“Yes, it would be a complete invasion of your privacy, agents would be there twenty-four-seven monitoring. We would only stay in the front areas of the house, of course, but you needn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. There are always other ways.” Agent Hotchner fixes you with a level look, voice sincere.

“Oh, she’s comfortable, aren’t ya?” The chief says, shaking you again with a wide smile.

“Yes, of course,” you say, nodding at the others. You mean it, you’ll do whatever you can to help out, you just wish you could’ve made the choice yourself.

“This way, you don’t have to worry about confidentiality, either. Little Miss has full access to ongoing investigations, she’ll be there for all of the briefings and such.”

You nod, discretely moving a step back so his hand falls from your shoulder.

“Yes, I’m meant to be kept up to date with all ongoing, violent investigations where and if possible to act as a bridge between law enforcement and victims and families of victims. Especially those with children involved — I should have mentioned we would cross paths again last night, I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Yes, we’ve worked with our fair share of liaisons,” Gideon chuckles, looking over his shoulder at JJ who gives him a small smile.

“Then it’s all set. You boys let me know when you have your profile ready.” Elle watches him walk off with a hard stare, obviously just as rubbed wrong by him as you are.

“Lovely man, isn’t he?” You joke, trying to make the situation lighthearted.

“We’ve interacted before. Our headquarters isn’t actually far from here, just a twenty-minute drive, we’re up in Quantico. He doesn’t get any better with time, though.” Agent Hotchner shakes his head, turning to grab a file off of the desk behind him.

“Well, he always forgets to offer his office space to visitors so I usually keep mine available. It’s quieter and there’s a whiteboard, follow me.”

||||

Since you started renting the small duplex by yourself, you’ve never felt awkward in your own home. Now, though, you feel odd taking up your own space.

The majority of the Quantico team is set up in your front room with laptops, cameras, and microphones.

“We don’t know exactly how long he usually takes to come back to scenes, only that it typically happens within the week,” Elle explains to you apologetically.

“No problem — comes with the job, no?” You say, smiling and trying to brush it off. Elle laughs gently, nose wrinkling as she shakes her head.

“No, not really. I wouldn’t be thrilled if these boys set up shop in my house, you’re taking this with much more grace than I would.”

You shrug, crossing your arms and tilting your head from side to side. “I won’t act like it’s normal, it is pretty weird having you guys here, but if it helps you catch this guy, why would I say no? Better me than some random civilian.” You hesitate, scrunching up your nose, “Better now than waiting for him to kill someone else.”

“Much more compassionate than I am,” Elle jokes, shaking her head and walking away as Gideon calls her name.

The main problem, you think, is that the duplex isn’t very big. The part of the team that’ll be staying with you — Spencer, Gideon, Elle, and Morgan — have all settled in. They won’t come and go, their car is firmly parked in your garage, and they’ll keep a low profile to prevent the unsub from noticing their presence. You’re meant to come and go as normal to keep suspicion low in case he’s cased the entire neighborhood. But, with only two bedrooms, a baths, and a small office, you’re feeling slightly cramped. Whenever you turn, you feel like you’re coming toe-to-toe with someone. It’s awkward, considering you’re very used to living alone.

Still, you’re determined to be a good host, so you set to preparing lunch for everyone. They’d insisted that you didn’t need to, but you really don’t know what else to do. You’d been given the day to help them all settle in and provide assistance wherever possible, but there isn’t much to do other than wait.

You’re pulling out the things for sandwiches when Spencer walks in.

“Hey, do you have an extra ethernet cable? Garcia thinks that a direct line would be better,” he asks.

“Maybe, you’re free to check in the office if you want. If you need, you can always pull the one from my desktop,” you say, shutting the fridge and trying to balance everything in your arms in one trip.

“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, reaching forward to grab the ham and mayo from the top of your stack.

“Making sandwiches!”

“You really don’t have to. We can have food ordered, it’s okay.”

“I wanna make myself useful, I feel weird just standing around watching you guys work,” you say, dumping the materials on the counter. “I hope you guys like ham or turkey, it’s all I have.”

“You are being useful, though. You’ve let us set up in your home, how much more useful can you be?”

“I could provide food as well,” you say, sending him a smile. “Ham or turkey?”

Spencer looks exasperated, setting the ham and mayo down and shaking his head. Nervously, he uses both of his hands to push his hair back. “Either. Either is fine, thank you.”

You start to prepare the sandwiches, Spencer watching and still looking like he wants to say something.

“Hey, Reid, I found one, we’re all set,” Morgan says, rounding the corner and waving the white chord in the air. “Oh, what’re you making?” He asks, stepping closer and leaning over your shoulder.

“Sandwiches. I was asking Spence if you guys like ham and turkey but he wasn’t being helpful.”

“Well, Spence can be like that,” Morgan says, throwing Spencer a smirk over his shoulder. “But we’d appreciate anything.” “I was trying to tell her,” Spencer interrupts, “that it’s entirely unnecessary for her to make us lunch. She’s already done enough for us letting us set up here. The effort is appreciated, of course, obviously, you just shouldn’t have to. Because we’re already intruding.” He trails off as Morgan sends him a look, raising his eyebrow.

“Well, I, for one, appreciate the offer,” Morgan says, leaning on the counter and smiling down at you. You laugh at him.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it! I do,” he says, turning to you and holding one of his hands up in a placating way, “I just don’t think, it’s very kind of course, I just –”

You cut him off, taking pity, “He’s fucking with you. Relax.”

||||

“I just can’t believe that you’re actually processing any of what you’re reading at that speed!” You say, throwing your arms up.

“I actually am. Speed reading, when done right, doesn’t take away from comprehension at all. Plus, with my eidetic memory, I can always think back and process later if I need to,” Spencer explains.

“Fine, you’re understanding what you’re reading in a general sense, but where’s the enjoyment in it? How can you possibly understand all the intricacies of the writing, what the author is doing, and appreciate the characters and their growth if you don’t take your time with it?” “I tend to focus my reading moreso on informational writing, so that’s not often a problem. And when I do read something fictional or with more nuance, I’m never lacking in any way when it comes to my understanding of the content, even when speed reading.”

“So you’re not actually taking the time to have fun reading is what I’m hearing.”

“Reading is inherently fun when you’re learning something, though,” he says, lips quirked in a slight smirk and a line forming between his eyebrows as he looks down at you. The look is so disarming that you find yourself deflating a little.

You’re in your living room, a few books scattered on the coffee table between you two, debating the merits of each one.

“I dunno,” you say, argument leaving you as you become distracted.

“Just say I’m right! You know I am,” Spencer says with a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning toward you slightly, hands spread.

You thought he was cute when he was shy, bumbling in your house yesterday, but after a few hours to warm up to each other, you can’t deny you really like him.

The only thing that completely blocks the disappointment that they’ll all soon be leaving is that their UnSub will be caught when they have to leave. Your community and neighborhood will be better off for it.

“No, I still think you’re wrong. Sure, you understand what you’re reading but I just don’t buy that you could possibly enjoy it in the same way that I am!” You’re trying your damndest to regain your confidence, shaking your head side-to-side with a wide smile to erase the vision of his own smirk, his hands, his rolled up sleeves from your mind. “I mean, nothing beats curling up with a book and taking your time with it.” “Well,” Spencer interrupts, lifting a finger, “how can you say if you’ve never tried my way?”

“Speed reading? I’ve done it, actually.” You shrug at his hesitating look, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his eyes.

“Really? What method? What was your fastest time? What —” Morgan cuts off his questioning by walking in and calling for him.

“Gideon wants you to take a look at something.” “Ah. Breaks over.” Spencer stands from where he was sitting on your armchair, brushing his hands off on his pants. He points at you while he walks away, “We’re not finished, though!”

“Oh?” Morgan asks when he’s gone, raising his eyebrows at you. “Unfinished business?” You scoff, moving to pick up the books you pulled out to talk to Spencer about.

You like Morgan. He’s an easy one to like and he feels like the bigger brother you don’t have with his easy smiles. The chaos in your house hasn’t been easy, you appreciate his consistent presence to lighten the atmosphere.

You’ve actually come to like all of them. Elle with her stories, Gideon with his dry smiles, and Spencer. Really, you just like Spencer. You’re an adult, you’re not ashamed to admit it. Just, only to yourself, lest you mess something up and make him uncomfortable.

“You know, I can’t really say I haven’t seen him this excited before because the kid gets excited about everything but,” Morgan shrugs, pushing himself off of the wall he’s been leaning on and coming to sit next to you, “you do seem to get along well.”

“Oh, yeah, Spencer’s nice,” you say, standing to put the books away.

“Nice,” Morgan muses, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms.

“He is! You all are.” You laugh when Morgan raises his eyebrows again. “I’m being serious, I would kill to work on a team like yours. You all actually work together.”

“We have to.”

“It certainly works out better when you do.”

“Yeah, your boss is a real dick. He usually walk all over you like that?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you sit down, pulling your legs under you. “More or less I guess. My personal opinion is that he’d like more men on the team and … no women,” you joke, giving him a what can you do? look, smiling sadly.

“And you tried to transfer?”

“Stop profiling me,” you say, eyes narrowing. Morgan smiles, all teeth.

“Not profiling, just remembering him saying something like that when we talked at the station.”

“Oh,” you say, slouching back. “That’s considerably less impressive.” “Ouch.”

“Yeah, yeah, I wound you. But I did look into transferring a while back. I’ve been trying to move up for a while and keep getting blocked. But, no surprise, I got blocked again.” You raise an imaginary glass, cheers-ing with the air, “Go government!”

“That’s fucked,” Morgan says, letting out a low whistle. “So you don’t want to stay a victims liasion?”

“No, I do. But it’s not my only job right now. It’s a little complicated, but our office is too small to have a head liaison. So I really just run around filling gaps wherever I can until I’m needed to do my actual job. I’d love to do just liaison work, I really like working with the public. Feels like I’m actually helping people, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” “Hey,” you say suddenly, not wanting to keep the mood somber (or ignore the FBI agent in your house with your silly woes while a murder investigation is underway), “you want some tea? Coffee?”

“Sure doll, I’ll take some coffee,” Morgan says, a confused smile taking over his face, “if you’re offering.”

||||

“It’s actually pretty interesting,” Spencer is saying, flipping through files and leaning over to show Elle something.

“Oh, I bet. Nothing better than vicious murder,” you say, dry, rolling a pen between your fingers.

“I mean the process behind deciphering their reasoning,” Spencer says, shrugging.

“I just don’t know how you look past it to see anything other than the violence,” you say, shuddering.

He and Elle have taken the night shift and are giving you a rundown on profiling. You’ve worked with profilers before, but they’re small-town cops, more interested in closing cases than being scientific, or, at times, even correct.

“How do you look past a crying mother after her daughter has been murdered to get the information you need?” Elle asks. “I’ve worked with hundreds of victims, I think I’m pretty good at it, but your records show that you’re one of the best.”

You heat at the praise, shrugging your shoulders. “I wouldn’t say I look past them. I actually try to get into their shoes to figure out what I can say to get through to them.”

“Often the victims families know more than they think. Every bit of information they can give us or the police about the victim only lead us closer to the unsub. We often rely on your job to get important information out of victims and families that we wouldn’t otherwise have. It requires tact, empathy, and extreme emotional control,” Spencer explains, setting the file down and brushing his hair back.

“Well, thank you?”

“I think he’s trying to say what we do is similar,” Elle explains, “it’s just the opposite side of it.”

“I’m still not following — but I’m definitely not built to be a profiler, that’s for sure.”

“But you could be. You profile in your own way. We look at the bad guys, the killing patterns, stuff like that,” Spencer leans forward, enthusiastic. “You just profile less intense people. Gather information from them, figure out what they need. Get in their shoes, to use your words. You use their actions, small phrases, and what you can gather from their homes to approach them the best way, no?”

“Looking at their clothes and body language and stuff, sure.”

“We do exactly that with crime scenes. Recognize patterns. Just like you can’t imagine seeing past the violence, some of us can’t imaigne having to see past the emotion of someone dealing with fresh loss.” Elle smiles. “You’d probably make a really good profiler. You’re just a better victims advocate.”

You consider that, weighing their words. “Sure, maybe,” you admit. “I still think it’s kinda like magic, though. Your knowledge, your intuition, your teamwork. It’s cool.”

“Thank you,” Elle says kindly.

Spencer jumps back into his explanation of the types of murder-kidnappers, musing with Elle again about their profile. Their ability to constantly return to the same evidence over and over without any hesitation is still amazing to you. Despite what Elle said, you’re sure you’d get bored.

You’re even more sure that it would stick to you in a way that working with the victims never did. You visit crime scenes, sure, but you never do everything in your power to commit every bit of them to memory.

As they talk, you move toward the window and move the curtains over slightly. It’s the middle of the night, the second the team has spent in your home, and you’re curious how much longer this unsub will take to be caught.

You’ve done your best to keep to your usual schedule and luckily it’s not unusual for you to be up late. The movement behind the curtains won’t be suspicious, so you stand and peek out curiously at the home across the street.

Penny sighs from her bed in the living room, snoring softly. She’s taken a liking to your guests who are always willing to give her attention and scraps of food.

The Furgison house bigger than yours, a family home with a large backyard. It’s a faded blue, lightened by the sun, with a white door. Theres a dim porch light that’s been left on, throwing yellow shaddows across the street.

You swear you see a curtain move in the window and your entire body freezes, breath stolen from your lungs.

“Hey guys?” You say, dead quiet, as you see the curtains flutter again. Small, nearly inperceptable movement. Greys and blacks angainst more greys and blacks.

“Yeah?” Elle asks, still reading over the file with Spencer.

“You’re sure that nobodys gone in tonight?”

“Certain,” Elle says, moving quickly to stand next to you. “Why?”

“Curtains moved,” you say, nodding toward the house.

“Maybe the AC was left on?” Elle suggests and you shake your head.

“No, we would’ve noticed it before now. They have no animals, the house should be empty.”

Your heart is racing as Spencer joins you at the window.

“You sure you saw it move?” He asks, moving to stand behind you, just out of sight at the window, a hand pressed to your back. Gentle pressure, just his fingertips, that makes you siffen even more. He moves his hand, whispering an apology.

You wish he hadn’t.

Your mind spins, distracted for a moment, shaking your head again.

“Yes, I’m certain.”

“Go get Morgan and Gideon,” Spencer tells you, sharing a look with Elle.

||||

You follow the team out, despite their insistence that you don’t have to, holding your own handgun out and following the light Morgan casts.

You live in a relatively sleepy neighborhood. Shared duplexes and little houses line the streets, most with little flowerbeds out front. The Furgison house is no exception: it’s a little blue house with rose bushes out front. It backs the small patch of wood that runs along the length of the highway.

Heart racing and head light from adrenaline, you stay out front to watch for any movement inside while Morgan and Hotch creep around one side of the house, Spencer and Elle take the other side.

“Back here,” you faintly hear Morgan say through your earpiece. “The cellar door is open. It was deadlocked last time.”

You sitffen, readjusting your grip on your gun.

“Wasn’t it cleared, though, when we were here last?” Elle asks.

“Yeah, but he could’ve snuck in through the woods — there’s no telling.”

“Didn’t we position police cars on the highway?” Elle again. You can imagine them all standing behind the house, guns drawn. It’s intersting to hear them communicate so efficiently, voices low.

“We’ll worry about it later. Morgan, you take the lead, I’ll take the rear, Elle stay out here.”

For a long few seconds, you hear Morgan, Spencer, and Hotch begin to clear the basement, until you’re jolted out of the repetitive “clear!”s by Hotch yelling, “FBI, put your hands up!”

The next few minutes turn into a whirlwind as police cars arrive and Morgan drags the UnSub out of the house by his handcuffed arms.

The Furgison boy comes out next, disheveled and passed to the paramedics in the back of an ambulance. Once you see Hotch, Spencer, and Elle are okay as well, you jump into action, going to sit with the boy and comfort him. Morgan is there, too, crouched down to talk to the kid.

“You’re all good now,” he’s saying, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “And my friend here is going to make sure that you see your dad as soon as possible.” Morgan gestures to you and you nod at the little boy.

The sight of him makes your chest ache: he’s scrawny with wide brown eyes and a mop of curls on the top of his head.

“Agent Morgan is right, your dad is going to meet us at the hospital.”

The boy doesn’t say anything, shaking under his emergency blanket.

“I’ll ride with you in the ambulance, too, and that’ll be fun, right?” You ask, jumping up to sit next to him. Slowly and sluggish the boy rests his head on your shoulder, still shivering. You wrap an arm around him before mouthing ‘I’ve got him’ to Morgan. He gives you a small sile, waves at the boy, and goes to join his team.

After being checked over again by the paramedics, the boy falls asleep quickly in the hospital, holding his dads hand. You’re leaving the room, shutting the door with a soft click, when you see Spencer sitting in the hallway.

“How is he?” Spencer asks, standing up at the sight of you.

“He’s okay, some minor bruises and scrapes, dehydrated but on an IV. They’re just happy to be back together.”

“That’s good,” Spencer says, falling quiet and looking away.

“And, hey, you guys caught the bad guy — now you all get to go home!”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, turning to look at you again, chuckling slightly without any heart behind it.

“Are you not excited?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s always nice coming back home after a trip, even one as close to home as this one is. But it’s a little bittersweet.”

“How so?”

You practically see Spencer gathering his courage, straightening his shoulders and sending you a small but genuine smile.

“Well, we have some unfinished business, remember? And you never showed me your lexicon.”

“Well,” you say, smiling, “you’ll just have to keep in touch, then. Maybe we can get dinner?”

“Yeah. Yes, of course. Dinner.” Spencer is fully grinning now, eyes squinting with the force of it. You can’t help but mirror him, laughing a little. “Well, I do have a car to catch. I just wanted to check on him and say goodbye.”

“Well, goodbye for now Dr. Reid.”

“Goodbye,” he says, smiling at you for a second longer before turning to walk to the exit. He makes it to the doors before he hesitates, one hand on the handle. He stands there, still, for a moment before turning around and asking, “Dinner, like a date, right?”

Giddy, your smile only widens as you nod. “I would really like that, if you’re asking, yeah.”

“I’m asking.”

“Okay, then it’s a date.”

i wanted more to happen here but then i got this far and still had so much more i could write about these two aahhh

lmk if u want a pt 2 bc i kind of have ideas :) tysm for reading!!

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halfwayhearted · 2 months ago

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This is based off one of ur spencer dating head cannons.. perhaps they are going to a celebratory something at rossi’s and reader wears like a really pretty short dress and its just spencer stumbling over his words in awe and its a cute little moment ^_^? Lmk.

Always Forever — Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: After being invited to David Rossi’s annual get-together, courtesy of your boyfriend, you’re very excited to go. However, Spencer just seems to stand there and gawk.

Word Count: 690+

Disclaimer/s — Fluff! That’s it. Bless.

A/N: This had me seriousing up quick ‘cause are we kidding.

A get-together at the David Rossi’s house. You didn’t exactly know him that well, though you were quite familiar with everybody else. When Spencer came home and informed you of the invitation, you accepted without further thought.

You carefully readjusted the straps of your dress, turning to admire how you looked in the mirror.

It wasn’t anything too elaborate; it reached just above your knee, and the color complemented you perfectly, making you feel gorgeous. You’d probably wear the dress more often if you had the opportunity. You never did before. But now you do, and you fully intend to make the most of it.

You hear Spencer call out for you, prompting you to quickly grab your lipgloss and rush out of the bathroom, exclaiming, “I’m here! I’m ready!”

Turning the corner, you’re met with your boyfriend in his usual attire: a button-up shirt, a tie, and a cardigan thrown over his shoulders, paired with his regular pants. As you move to retrieve your clutch, you’re quick to compliment him, “Hey, you look handsome. New cardigan?”

No response. Your eyebrows furrow, “Spencer?”

Whipping around to look at him, you nearly fold at the sight of him just looking at you. But his eyes are soft, his lips are parted, and his cheeks are flushed—so, how couldn’t you?

“Spencer Reid,” you drawled, walking toward him. You lift a hand to his forehead, “Are you okay? Are you feeling sick? Warm? If so, it’s the cardigan.”

Your hands on him seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in. “What—oh! No, I, uh, I’m fine. Not warm at all. Are you… ready?”

Hearing him stumble over his words wasn’t new to you, but hearing him do it so much in the same sentence piqued your curiosity. “Are you ready?”

“Of course, do I not look ready?”

“I think you look ready,” a moment passes, “I’m just asking if you are ready. Are you sure you’re not feeling under the weather?”

“I think you look beautiful,” he blurts out, the tips of his ears turning a deep shade of red. You smile, and it’s so, so genuine that it erases any doubts he might’ve had about taking it back or blaming it on a slip of the tongue. It wasn’t that. Never.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that saying that was not, and never would be, an accident—

Before he can even fully register the sensation of your lips on his, a smile spreads across his face, deepening the kiss. His body leans toward you, and his hands glide tenderly from your jaw to cup your cheeks. The second you pull back, he chases after your lips, making you laugh, “Thank you.”

He doesn’t want to hear it when his lips find yours once more, your smile widening.

“Spencer, we’re—” you pull away, only to lean in for another, “You're going to—” you steal another, “make us late. Isn’t he really strict about times?”

Your boyfriend lets out a soft hum against your mouth, then finally breaks away for real this time and huffs, “Morgan and JJ are late all the time.”

“Hey, don’t sulk. They probably have a reason. Come on, I’m excited! Doesn’t he always correct you guys when you call his house a, well, house?”

He grabs the clutch from your hands. Spencer then nods and picks up his keys, opening the front door of his apartment and standing there, knowing how you like to exit first. “Claims it’s a mansion,” he says with a soft smile.

“Claims? Is it not?”

With a shrug of his shoulders, he closes the door behind him. A small chuckle escapes his lips when he notices you looking up at him, eyebrows knitted together in complete confusion, still waiting for an answer to your question.

Pressing a quick kiss to your temple, he nods. “Yes,” the brunette retorted, “It is a mansion.”

Once you reach the stairwell, you interlace your arm with his. In a playful tone, you ask, “Do you think he’d be up for giving us a house tour?”

He rolls his eyes with amusement at that, “I guess you’re just going to have to ask.”

Now it’s your turn to huff, “I guess so.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds comfort #request #jilval #always forever - cults

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guiltyasreid · 4 months ago

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guilty as sin? l spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings/tags: not really smut, mild cannon violence, theres a make out session ig, bau!reader, guns, word count: 772 a/n: i gen think this is what happens to me when I watch cm, I cannot help thinking about him when I listen to this song. lmk what you think :))

It all happened too fast. The day was going smoothly, usual paper work that made you stare into oblivion and dream of a better life, then you were out on a case. You couldn't remember how you and Spencer were standing in front of the unsub who had his gun trailed on Spencer. He wasn't wearing a vest. You were. Why wasn't he wearing a vest?

His finger twitched at the trigger, you didn't hesitate to step in front of Spencer. You didn't let the next shot fire as you tackled the unsub to the floor, the gun clattering away from them. The struggle was short as the tackle made him hit his head on the steps behind him. He was knocked out cold.

You couldn't breathe, your head was bleeding from knocking it against the wall.

Spencer was apparently calling your name out causing you to blink. You were sat on the back of an ambulance. The unsub had already been taken away, they were just cleaning up the scene now.

He clicked his fingers in front of your face causing you to blink again. "Why did you do that? You could've gotten seriously hurt."

Maybe it was because you had thumped your head, his words weren't registering. You watched his pink lips move, his arms were slightly bulging against his shirt, his long hair was swiped back. He looked as though he'd just fallen out of your deepest fantasies.

He called our your name again. You blinked again. "You weren't wearing a vest." You replied. "If you were shot you could've died, I've only got some bruised ribs."

"A shot from that range could've gone through your vest, it could've been fatal for you. What if the bullet was a little higher?..." He continued speaking, it was drowned out by your thoughts of how would his lips feel pressed upon yours, or his hands touching any part of you. It was like your dreams were coming true when his hands fell on your thighs to lean towards your face.

"You can't do that again..." his voice drowned out again. All you could think of was how his hands were causing your entire body to freeze up.

They covered the entire whith of your thighs, they were calloused, and even though your trousers you could feel the heat emiting from his body. He was nearly inches from your face. You could feel his breath.

Suddenly, he leaned in kissing your lips, humming against them. Your entire body twitched, your hands going up to his hair, his hands slid their way further up your thighs, maneuvering towards your hips.

Your legs opened upcausing him to take a step forward, you moaned as he squeezed your hip. This prompted him to deepen the kiss, a hand going up to the nape of your neck. Holding you as if you were going to stop this moment.

You tugged on his curls causing him to let out a groan, as if he wanted to become one with you, his entire body was pressed up against you, the kiss was passionate and quick, as if you couldn't get enough of eachother.

He moved for your lips, towards your neck, your name slipping out his mouth, a kiss to under your jaw that made you shiver. He spoke your name again this time with more grit. Kissing a trail further down.

Your name was spoken again.

You blinked as Spencer gritted his teeth at your behaviour. His hands were still on your thighs. "Are you listening?"

"I am, sorry." You shook your head trying to get out of your own thoughts. "It won't happen again, I was just trying to protect you." You gave him a breathy chuckle. He patted your knee leaning back and standing up.

"As much as I don't want you to, I would've done the same thing in your position." He gave you a small smile. "Thank you."

"Anytime." You smiled back, he gave you another smile before walking away. You leaned against the ambulance and sighed, watching him talking to Hotch. His ran a hand through his hair. Your eyes softened, running your eyes over his entire figure.

"I'm not sure how pretty boy doesn't notice." Your head snapped towards Derek who was snickering at your love-sick face. You rolled your eyes. "You look at him like you're going to jump his bones."

"I do not." You scoffed back, jumping off the ambulance, handing back the blanket to the EMT.

"I saw your face when he touched yo-" You shoved Derek who just started laughing harder as you walked away.

#spencer reid #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid fluff #Criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #Spencer reid x you #Fluffiest #Spencer reid x y/n #mgg #Spencer reid x fem reader #taylor swift #bau reader #guilty as sin?#derek morgan

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etclouie · 3 months ago

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Could you do Derek Morgan x Reader or Spencer Reid x reader where reader is a new member of the team but is scared of flying so the first time on the jet they need to comfort her? Obvi I know you have a bunch of stuff you are still writing but i think this idea could be cute. It honestly could be for each character and kinda like a head cannon list on how they would comfort reader. Thank you so much if you get to this!

first time flier

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: your first time flying was on your first out of state case, and derek helps you through your nerves (Derek Morgan x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: none really, being scared of flying, female pet names/nicknames (angel, sweetheart etc), this is proper simple but can go deeper if people want

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 514

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: writing this for derek cause i have like no ideas for him at all

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 criminal minds masterlist | main masterlist

you’d recently joined the bau, being the newest member on the team already had nerves flying, but when your first out of state case meant you had to fly you were dreading it.

never having flown before, you were a nervous wreck when you were walking up the jets stairs. Derek behind you, and his voice flooding your ears.

“what’s got you all shaky legged like this?”

his voice always held teasing, and normally you managed to brush him off but your nerves had you a nervous wreck as you finally boarded the jet. sitting in the closest seat, and rolling your eyes as Derek sat down opposite you.

that all too familiar smirk plastered across his face as he continued his teasing, his arms laid loosely across the small jet table.

“talk t’me sweetheart, i’m not gonna judge”

meeting his eyes with a reluctant huff, his smirk immediately faltering as he finally took notice of the distressed look across your face.

all the signs were there. watching him piece together your situation while the rest of the team boarded the jet.

first thing you done when you sat down was pull down the small window blind and then buckling your seatbelt, breathing shallow and your head lulled back trying to soothe yourself.

“ohh you’re scared of flying?”

there was a twitch of teasing in his tone but he was primarily reassuring as he spoke, his hands reaching across the table to soothe his thumbs across your knuckles, gathering your attention onto him and nodding in response to his question.

“it’s nothing to be scared of angel, yeah? i’ll help you through it”

his words only processing once he was sat by your side, taking your left hand into his right one and continuing to soothe his thumb across your knuckles.

this was one thing you didn’t expect when you woke up this morning, the Derek Morgan helping you get over your fear of flying. especially not with him this close to you and holding your hand, this was a nice change compared to the teasing Derek you had grown familiar with.

“thank you, for this and for helping me with flying for the first time”

glancing up at him to see his eyes already on you, his thumb stilling against your knuckles before a chuckle pushed past his lips.

“your first time flying? shit, i thought you were just a bad flier”

that had a soft laugh leaving you, most of your nerves gone as you focussed on Derek’s distractions. his hand never leaving yours, even when Hotch began debriefing the case.

you felt safe flying with Derek by your side, his teasing slowly coming back and holding your full attention with it.

even on the flight home, he made sure to sit right next to you. nerves still there, but a lot less rampant than the flight out. Derek was there for you the whole time, his hand in yours once more; and even managing to get you to sleep.

as long as you had Derek there, flying wouldn’t be that bad.

requests are open here !

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de4dlyniightshade · 10 months ago

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CAN I REQUEST BABY SPENCER BEING A TOUCH STARVED SENSITIVE BOY HEAD CANNONS ??

ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY!!!(baby reid is my brand now;)

i imagine this would probably be after a long case and the first time he's seen you since he's been back.

definitely wouldn't straight up tell you that he's desperate for your touch but he'd be so obvious about it in the way he acted, shifting around where he sat, sighing dramatically and boring holes into you until you noticed him, which you did pretty quickly.

you'd ignore him on purpose for a while just to rile him up until he was pressing his thighs together, half hard in his pants.

almost starts shaking in anticipation when you finally acknowledge him, asking "what's the matter baby?" and motioning him over to you.

practically leaps into your arms, pressing his body as close as possible to you, your brow raising when you felt his cock pressing into the side of your leg.

as soon as you palm him through his pants he's whimpering and begging you for more, rolling his hips into your touch.

immediately does anything you ask, tugging his pants down just enough to free his cock as you manoeuvre into his lap, wrapping your hand around the base of his length.

gets overwhelmed so quickly when you start pumping his cock, starting off slowly to build him up, hearing him gasp and whimper.

non-stop pleading for more, his voice airy and high pitched as he fucked into your hand, his hands gripping your thighs.

when you ask him what's got him all worked up all he can do is babble about missing you and needing you so badly while he was gone, the way his voice cracks making you croon at him.

fights so hard not to cum too soon, the feeling of finally having your touch making him lightheaded, his mouth dropping open and eyes squeezing shut as his cock throbbed in your hold.

when you run your thumb over his tip he can't help but babble incorrectly about how good he feels, how much he missed you and warning you that he's about to cum.

"go on baby boy, cum for me" is all you had to say to have him moaning and whimpering wantonly, his head thrown back as his back arched, fucking into your fist as cum spilled down your hand and over his sweater.

immediately pulls you into him, snuggling his face into your chest as he breathed heavily, thanking you even though he knows he doesn't have to, which you tell him, pressing a kiss to his head and stroking his back.

this is kinda short and vague my bad:,)

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ginkgo-phyta · 9 months ago

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heyy do you write for hotch? If yes can I request a fic with hotch falling asleep on reader's shoulder on the jet. like there are so many fics with reader sleeping on his shoulder and he's all soft about it and lets her. how would the bau react to see their tough boss just cuddle up with his girlfriend after a long case (it can be established relationship or before that too). thanku!

A/N: im screaming HAHA i LOVE THIS! i made this an established relationship hehe i hope you enjoy, my love!

tagged spencer reid x reader because i want more people to see this teehee pls dont hate me i have spencer fics yall should read if you havent already but also you should still read this too

fluff, BAU!reader, gender-neutral reader, mention of cannon type violence/hostage situation/nothing explicit or detailed, 1.8k words

“Hey, you okay?” Your tired eyes peered up at Aaron as he neared your seat on the jet, tie loosened and top button of his shirt undone. He had just gotten off the phone with the section chief, who, undoubtedly, scolded him as if he were a wayward adolescent. Although the smile he offered you in response was tight lipped and less-than-giving, his eyes told a different tale. They softened as they met yours, shedding their cold and hard façade to reveal a weary truth, littered with hints of desperation.

This case had been long and grueling, tensions insurmountably higher than usual with Erin Strauss breathing down Hotch’s neck, scrutinizing every decision he and the rest of the team made. You barely got a chance to talk to Aaron about how he was doing, always being waved off by the older man with “We can talk later,” or “It doesn’t matter right now, let’s focus on the case,”. Begrudgingly, you obliged, understanding there was no point in pushing him. It would only add to his stress. Although the case was solved, the end was arduous. The unsub had taken a hostage and, with the rest of the BAU’s input, the negotiation tactics went a different way than what Erin deemed appropriate.

A heavy sigh parted Aaron’s lips as he slumped into his seat, you could practically see steam of stress billowing off of him. “It’s fine, everything’s fine.” He spoke quietly, eyes closed, but you could tell he didn’t believe it to be true.

“Strauss tear you a new one?” Rossi piqued from across the table.

The unit chief huffed out a short laugh. “Nothing out of the ordinary.” Rossi just nodded at this, turning his attention back to his notepad. Hotch looked to the rest of his team as they settled into their desired spots, “Let’s all get some rest, alright?”

Everyone wordlessly nodded, not having to be told twice.

Aaron lazily turned his head to you with a book in your lap, “You, too, Agent.” He gave you a playfully pointed look.

You breathed out a quiet chuckle, “I will, don’t worry.” You shut the book and turned to give your beloved undivided attention, gazing into his suddenly undecipherable, deep hickory eyes. “You wanna talk about it?”

He gently shook his head, eyelids feeling heavy as his blinks became slower and slower, “At home,” he whispered, your stomach doing a somersault at the notion. Aaron tried to fight sleep for just a few seconds longer, wanting to just stare at you for a bit.

You faced him, head leaned against the headrest, smile so warm and endearing. The way you chuckled at him was like getting a glimpse of heaven. He couldn’t wait to go home and have you all to yourself. The feeling of your arms wrapped around him was his life raft in the tumultuous storm of his emotions. It was hard for him to express what he was feeling all the time, but with you around his walls of reinforced concrete tumbled. Aaron gave you a small, sleepy smile.

Before he could say anything else, you spoke up. “Sleep,” it was a simple command, and the usually stubborn man melted into his seat at your word.

You took a couple minutes longer to watch him immediately fall into a deep slumber, his breaths becoming deeper and longer, lips parted ever-so-slightly, eyebrows twitching here and there. With a breathy laugh, you fought the urge to reach up and caress his face and move the little stray strands of hair off of his forehead, still aware that your coworkers could witness such an intimate moment. The two of you had begun dating five months ago, but it wasn’t until three months later that you broke the news to the team.

It had been a long time coming; for quite a while everyone knew about the feelings you harbored for your boss- even Hotch himself knew. You didn’t do a very good job of hiding it, taking every opportunity you could to blithely flirt with him. Some might just assume you did so in a similar way to how Penelope and Derek toy with each other, but the profilers knew in the back of their minds it wasn’t the case. Aaron fought you at first, pleading with you to stop calling him “handsome”, “big man”, or even “honey” in one case. You never gave in, though, buckling down on your efforts upon seeing the way he would chuckle caught off guard and almost blush in many instances. Slowly yet surely, he gave in to your teases. You burrowed your way into the stoic man’s heart, creating a place you would die before giving up. Aaron didn’t even realize it was happening until his world came crashing down on him one fateful evening.

A routine questioning of a suspect had led to you getting held hostage, the man whose house you went to turning out to be the unsub. This had happened many times before in the history of the BAU, but for some reason Aaron was more on edge. There was no covert entrance into the home and the unsub refused to open up a line of communication with the agents, leaving everyone in the dark wondering what the state of your wellbeing was. Aaron had begun pacing back and forth in the tent they had set up outside the house you were being held in, hands held to his head.

“Hotch, it’s going to be okay.” Derek stepped forward, trying to calm his superior’s nerves.

“He’s right, Aaron.” Rossi piped in. “We’ve dealt with this before, we can fix this.”

“No,” Hotch murmured back, “This isn’t the same. It’s not the same.” His pacing didn’t let up. “This is my fault, I should have told someone to go, too. I could have prevented this.”

The others held unspoken conversations within the glances they shared.

“Hotch-” Emily tried to speak up, to convince him that wasn’t the case.

“NO!” He yelled suddenly, stopping in his tracks. “You don’t understand, I can’t lose them!” His voice was heavy with despair, eyes wide in anguish.

All eyes were trained on him, his coworkers at loss for words at the confession.

“I can’t lose them…” Aaron mumbled this himself before roughly pushing out of the tent.

You smiled to yourself as you took a last glance towards the sleeping man next to you before turning back to your book. Safe to say, you were incredibly shocked when Aaron showed up on your doorstep in the dark of the night all those months ago, soaked in the rain, kissing you with a sense of urgency before you could even ask him what he was doing there. You bit your lip at the memory, but shook it out of your head to try and focus in on the jumbled words swimming in your lap. From the get-go, the two of you decided you would remain extremely professional around your coworkers, and you did just that. You stopped your teasing, for the most part at least, and made sure to never initiate physical contact on the job. Anyone that didn’t already know you were in a relationship would never have guessed. The most you allowed yourselves was sitting next to one another on the jet, just like you were doing now.

An unintelligible murmur and huff sounding from your side drew your short-lived attention away from the delicate pages in front of you. Just as you were about to look over to Aaron and make sure he was okay, a heavy weight thumped onto your shoulder. His head. You were taken aback, a giggle slipping through your lips before you could help it. Your fingers flew up to your mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet as you noticed him shift a bit, making himself more comfortable. Sure, you’d accidentally fallen against Hotch’s shoulder in your sleep a couple times before the two of you entered a relationship, but never in a million years did you expect him to do the same to you. On the jet. In front of everyone. Of course, he couldn’t control his actions in his sleep, you reasoned. And maybe you should gently shrug him off to help retain his authority around the teasing profilers. But, this time, you fought off that thinking and gave in to your instinct. He had been so tense and strung out this entire case, you knew he needed this.

To hell with professionalism. You thought with a devilish grin, happy in your resolution. And so, you gently closed your book and slid it onto the table in front of you, trying your best to move as little as possible before leaning your head against his own and closing your eyes. With the gentle hum of the jet engines and the comforting sounds of Aaron’s breathing, you were lulled into a wonderful slumber in no time.

“Oh my God,” Emily breathed out, garnering the attention of Spencer who rested in the same group of seats as her. He looked up at her with one eye from where he was slumped over in his window seat, trying to get some shut-eye.

“Huh?” the sleepy doctor grumbled, pushing himself a bit more upright when he noticed Emily looking at something on the other side of the jet, her face a mixture of shock and glee.

The raven-haired agent began slapping Derek’s shoulder, who sat peacefully next to her with his eyes closed and headphones over his ears. His eyes flew open, looking over to Emily with annoyance as he took off his headphones, “What! What!”

Immediately Emily shushed him, “Look!” she whispered, hand flying wildly in the air, eyes still unmoving.

Derek followed her line of sight the scene before him pulling a laugh of disbelief from his lungs. “Well, well, well…”

Emily’s hands covered her mouth in astonishment. “JJ!” she whispered over to the blonde who lay curled up on the sofa next to them. “Ugh,” she groaned quietly, unable to wake her coworker.

“I can’t believe this,” she whispered mostly to herself, settling back in her seat, garnering a shake of Morgan’s head.

The view of their hard-headed unit chief sleeping peacefully on the shoulder of his subordinate, the latter’s head resting sweetly back on his was suddenly blacked by the side of Rossi’s body as he stuck his arm out, trying to get the best angle to immortalize this moment on camera.

“Good for them,” Morgan grinned, his voice proudly announcing his amusement as he put his headphones back over his head.

“Rossi, you better send me that!” Emily spoke up just a little bit louder, the old man looking back and motioning his phone towards her in acknowledgement.

“What? What!?” Spencer whisper-yelled, unsuccessfully craning his head above and between the seats to get a glimpse of what all the hubbub was about, “What are you guys looking at!?”

“Penelope’s gonna flip,” Emily mumbled to herself, a teasing smile playing on her face as she looked down at the picture Rossi sent her. Without a second thought, she saved the photo onto her phone. They’re never gonna live this down.

A/N: i hope you liked this!! i had a fun time writing it ehehe hotch is such a dilf, like an ACTUAL dilf im not even attracted to fathers but hotch?? all day, every day, baby!

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #spencer reid x reader

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t1red-twilight · 2 months ago

Text

through the ages

part 1

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, doesn’t follow cannon super closely (i’m stupid), cursing, mentions of spencelle (bc i said so)

notes: lmao finally got this out

word count: 2.0k

masterlist series masterlist s. r. masterlist

hotch opened the door and brought you in. spencer took note of everything; the curve of your lips, the way you walked. he had never been so enamored with a single person before. sure, he’d had crushes. but never once had he immediately needed to know someone.

aaron’s introduction of you was wordless; the world lagged as spencer gazed upon you but desperately tried to avoid eye contact. every spot of your face, every imperfection had him speechless.

you had just graduated, masters in criminal justice and a minor in sociology from princeton. full ride scholarship, spencer later found out. (your writing was exquisite; very insightful. he looked it up in the hotel later that evening.)

it had been a normal day in the office, as normal as it could be. then, his world stopped when he saw you. after elle had left something in him felt sort of numb; maybe, you could give him a spark.

you sat in the chair directly to his left on the opposite side of the table. one elbow leaned on the desk, and you wordlessly mouthed words he couldn’t make out as the case was described. your eyes flicked over to him, and he quickly looked back at hotch. had you caught him staring, or had you wanted to catch a glimpse of him? he knew that this could maybe mean that you were trying to look at him from the same motivations that he was, enamorment, or maybe you had just sensed him staring like a frog at a fly: quickly, insignificantly.

the only issue was that it seemed you liked morgan.

las vegas, nevada was where the team was headed. being here reminded spencer of things, memories he didn’t care to recall. he noticed how you were hesitant to speak up, a feeling he had been familiar with a few years ago when he first joined the team.

the police station was incredibly stuffy, typical for the las vegas summertime. if you looked out into the road, you could see mirages. the police station had ac, but it was not helpful by any means at all.

spencer looked over at you. your hands were in your lap, and you were intently focused on something that morgan was saying. morgan was sitting on the table in the centers of the conference room, and you were looking up at him.

the stretch of morgan’s muscles underneath his shirt made spencer’s chest pang with envy. what did you think about morgan? was morgan your type? oh, god. maybe spencer didn’t even have a chance.

he didn’t see hotch approaching. “you find anything on the geographical profile, reid?” spencer blinked rapidly in an effort to clear his mind. he turned around to face the map that he had been leaning on. “distracted?” hotch’s eyebrows raised in what spencer knew to be amusement, though he was never hyper-expressive.

“uh- no. i’m alright. all the murders were in the same police jurisdiction, and all within a mile of each other. the focal point of these suggest that the unsub might live-“

you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking. this introduction could make or break your relationship with the bau team. it didn’t help that you were so young and inexperienced. hell, you were still working on your phd.

aaron hotchner guided you into the room and recited your name and qualifications. however, your eyes were glued to the wall right above the shoulder of a tall man, who had a goatee.

when you peeled your eyes away from the wall, you saw him. he had light brown hair, and starry eyes that were behind thick-rimmed glasses. one of his plump lips was tucked between his teeth.

once hotchner finished, you sat down paid attention as much as you could to the case that you were being sent on. baptism by fire, you guessed.

every now and then, you’d look out of the corner of your eye to look at the man in glasses. hopefully he wouldn’t catch you trying to memorize every freckle and line on his face.

you stayed mostly silent on the jet. you figured that you could mostly shadow the other people on the team before you got the hang of things. the chairs on the jet were not super comfortable; or maybe, you were just ridiculously tense.

you had only been to las vegas one or two times, and one of those times was just driving through. the police station was crowded and full of typical police assholes. that, you were more than used to. a bead of sweat dripped down your back.

when you sat down to look at the police reports one more time, you heard the table creak as someone sat upon it. looking up, you saw the man with the goatee from earlier. “so, where’d you work before you landed this gig?”

you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. at least he was being casual. still, you dropped your hands to your lap to fiddle with your fingers. “i was an assistant at a firm up in jersey,” you said, pausing briefly. “remind me what your name was again?”

“i’m morgan.” you followed by telling him your name. he must’ve seen you glancing over at the man in glasses repeatedly. he was raptly describing the geographical profile to agent hotchner. “that’s reid, if you didn’t already know.”

“that’s good to know. this morning was a little rushed.” your eyes trailed over agent reid. the way his fingers moved across the map with intense dexterity was enticing.

morgan chuckled and rolled his eyes playfully (even though you couldn’t see it, your gaze still locked on reid). “he’s single,” morgan purred, jumping off the table to return to his previous task.

you felt like a deer caught in the headlights, but morgan was gone before you could protest to what he was alluding to.

the case had gone by smoothly. but spencer could hardly even focus when you were within fifty feet of him. he was inexplicably drawn to you.

the jet was much cooler than vegas had been, and the entire team felt relieved. you were the last on, spencer quickly sat upright. were you walking towards him?

you spoke in a soft tone, “can i sit here? all the other seats are taken.” you clasped your hands together, likely out of nerves.

spencer nodded vigorously before he answered. he almost forgot to respond verbally. “yeah!” he said loudly. shit. he didn’t want to seem too eager, he might embarrass himself. “yes, of course you can.” this time, he spoke as quietly and calmly as he could muster while simultaneously scooting over to make room for you on the couch.

he tried to avoid eye contact. luckily, you weren’t even looking in his direction. if you had been, you might see the red creeping up his neck. you had a light floral scent about you, one that reminded him of simpler times when life was less hectic.

“agent reid, right?” you murmured. even though it was just his last name, he loved the way you said it, rolling off your tongue so smoothly and delicately.

he shrugged and leaned back on the couch slightly, trying to relax his shoulders. “doctor, actually, but you can just call me spencer.”

your tongue swiped your bottom lip before you spoke. “spencer. that suits you.” oh god, it did sound great when you said it. it sounded downright angelic; almost as if you were the only person meant to say it.

a silence followed. while being slightly awkward, spencer wasn’t too concerned about it. at least you were sitting next to him and not derek. “did you have a job before this one?”

“yeah, i was a lawyer’s assistant.” your voice was more soft than it had been. spencer looked over at you for the first time since you sat next to him.

“you like the bau so far?”

“how long have you worked for the bau?” you both spoke over each other; you turned and met his gaze. your eyes were beautiful, the lighting of the jet illuminating your face in a perfect way. spencer gestured for you to speak first.

“yeah, it’s alright.” a small smile adorned your lips. spencer wondered what they tasted like, before shutting that thought down completely. he couldn’t be thinking that about his coworker, let alone one he met less than forty eight hours ago.

you mirrored his gesture. “i’ve worked at the bau for a couple of years now.” what a dumb response. why couldn’t he think or speak properly?

his mind kept wandering. “you like it so far?” he whispered.

“yeah, it’s pretty cool.” pretty cool? who even says that? “just let me know if you need anything.” you gave him a warm smile and nodded. the way you smiled made him giddy and filled his stomach with butterflies.

being last on the jet didn’t work out well for you. every seat was taken, and the few that weren’t had feet propped up on them. in the back, you could see the couch still had space. perhaps spencer wouldn’t mind?

you walked over hesitantly to the couch. he didn’t notice you right away. “can i sit here? all the other seats are taken,” you noted, rocking on your heels.

he looked up at you, responding brightly. “yeah!” he moved over and spoke more quietly. “yes, of course you can.” there was a good six inches between the two of you, but it was as if you were brushing up against him with how your nerves were treating you.

small talk sucked, but you figured it would probably benefit you in getting to know your coworkers. “agent reid, right?” you recalled morgan’s anecdote from earlier, at the police station. it would really suck if you had somehow managed to forget his name in the time it took to solve the case and fly back to quantico.

“doctor, actually but you can just call me spencer.” shit, you totally just disrespected him. if only agent hotchner had properly introduced everyone when you were introduced.

trying to hide your increasing embarrassment, you tried, again, to be casual. “spencer. that suits you.” you should have apologized. not knowing what to say, you sat in the silence that consumed the rest of the jet. your knee bobbed up and down, you pulled at your fingers, and breathed deeply.

“did you have a job before this one?” he cleared his throat. did everything he did have to be attractive?

“yeah, i was a lawyer’s assistant.”

he had been looking at you, you realized. how long had he been looking at you and you were too skittish to look at him? how could you, with his gorgeous starry eyes.

in another circumstance his ‘interrogation’ would have intimidated you but, you only felt anxious from trying to impress him. “you like the bau so far?”

“how long have you worked for the bau?” the two of you interrupted each other. a laugh was shared and you relaxed for once, your posture looking a little less like you were constipated.

the chill of the jet was setting in; that, or spencer was just giving you goosebumps. he waved his hand in a motion saying that you should respond first. “yeah, it’s alright.” you actually really liked it (despite the morbidity, but that you were used to). but, you had to seem cool. chill, not like you were analyzing every thing he did and said to see if he liked you.

copying what he did, you silently urged that he was good to respond. “i’ve worked at the bau for a couple of years now,” he nodded as he spoke.

small talk did suck, a lot, but at least you were talking to spencer and not alone with your worried thoughts. “you like it so far?” you asked.

“yeah, it’s pretty cool.” his adam’s apple bobbed. “just let me know if you need anything.” you smiled at this, his comfort proving successful. the tension in your spine finally dissipated. it was good that you were at least on good terms with the bau member closest in age with you.

next part

#awkward middle school core #overthinking because i said so #lee’s writing <3 #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #x reader #fluff #series

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loomiseater · 1 month ago

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spencer reid head cannons 🍂fall edition🍂

you wake up to the smell of pumpkin spice coffee.

on chilly fall mornings, spencer likes to walk to work with you.

you guys definitely wear matching scarves.

spencer likes to bake fall treats for the team and passes them out in the morning for everyone.

spencer acts like a man baby at moments, and likes to throw the leaves in the air.

on off days, he likes to stay in with you while reading a good book, sipping on apple cider, with the fireplace crackling.

(this is my first time doing head cannons (if that’s what you call this😭) so i hope i did it right. also! first post of october!🧡

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid headcanon #happy fall #autumn #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction

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pathologicalreid · 7 months ago

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I have a head cannon that Spencer is a cat person

oh anon you’re so 👏🏻 right 👏🏻

first of all. it’s realistic. cats are able to be left alone for longer lengths of time, esp if we’re comparing to dogs.

he could go away on cases and have a sweet furry friend to come home to.

obv he’d have someone to check in on them but he’s relatively solitary so i imagine his cat would be as well. (penelope #1 cat sitter)

canonically, he has fish. but i think he’d have gotten a cat because he read something saying having another living thing that depends on you can motivate you to take care of yourself.

i’m imagining garcia showing him petfinder lmfao

him leaning over her shoulder and going “why is that kitten named after Pablo Escobar?”

spencer’s cat having playdates with Sergio!!!! i need it now actually!!!!!!!!

prob some kind of short hair (domestic) but i think spencer with a maine coon would be so cute

him coming home from a bad case and his cat just. climbing in his lap and purring bc they’re happy he’s home.

spencer reid deserves the unconditional love of a pet!!!!

#this is my first headcanon post Be Nice To Me #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid headcanon #criminal minds headcanon #spencer reid fluff #margot's requests #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fluff #bau team #dr reid #mgg #margot's headcanon

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sylvia-plaths-fig-pie · 5 months ago

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The Games We Play ♡ Luke Alvez

Pairing: luke alvez x fem!reader

Cw: no use y/n, mentions of Canon typical violence, probably strays far from cannon but the vibes are there, luke being a himbo, reader being intelligent (as you should) .

Trope: friends/coworkers to lovers

Word count: idk maybe 1k?

Summary: after a long case you school Spencer Reid on the plane back playing chess and you try to convince luke to play. It's only when luke is driving you home that he reveals that he's never played before...

♡♡♡♡♡

"And that's checkmate." You moving your queens knight into the closing position. Spencer look at you confused for what must have been the 5th time on the flight back from the last case.

"How?!" He questioned, slightly outraged by his loosing streak.

You bit back a simile as you looked at him, "would now be a good time to mention I was a 'chess prodigy' growing up...?"

"So was I but-"

"Spencer, I was British chess champion was I was 16 years old and competed in the world championships several times before flying to the US and joining the fbi..." you confessed, smiling at your childhood achievements. Spencer was an intelligent wonder kid, but he wasn't a chess grand master and he didn't have several chess titles, not like you.

"I think that's your signal to quick while your behind," luke commented from beside you, biting back a laugh as he looked at Spencer sulking. "I'm sure you could beat her at noughts and crosses?"

You rolled your eyes at his comment. He probably wasn't wrong, but still you liked the idea of winning, especially after the lengthy case that you just closed.

It was a collection of several murders of young girls and their dogs, with alot of mutilation, far too much for your average serial killer. You managed to close it, but not after weeks of sleepless nights and too many casualties for your liking.

"I'll have to pass on that game," you say before Spencer can try to convince you to play noughts and crosses. "But alvez, your the last one left that I haven't played," you say turning to look at the brunet who's eyes were already fixed on your own, "what do you say? I'll go easy on you I promise."

"Hell no!" He laughed, but you could tell there was somthing else that he wasn't saying. You were a profiler so you were generally pretty good at reading people, but with luke it was almost like you could read his mind and vise versa. You didn't just know eachother, you understood one another. Most days that was a comfort in this line of work, but sometimes it was terrifying.

It scared you that someone could know you so completely without having to tell them. It scared you that you saw luke as more than just a colleague and friend, it scared you that while he understood you he probably didn't feel the same. It was torture.

But you had to be professional. Which is why you didn't press why he didn't want to play and chalked it down to him wanting to keep his pride. However it didn't stop you from drifting asleep with your head on his shoulder when Spencer tried to analyse your previous chess game. Platonic friends can fall asleep on eachothers shoulders, right?

♡♡♡

As the plane landed you began to stir as luke gently nudged you.

"Wake up princess," he whispered in your ear.

"Shut up, I'm up," you mumbled as you got up, feigning annoyance at the nickname. It was pointless in front of a group of profilers, who could probably all could tell that you had a bit of a thing for luke and actually enjoyed the nickname, but your pride wouldn't allow you to admit to any if it.

"Let me drive you home." He says as you're walking of the plane. "Your tired, its probably not a good idea if you drive right now."

Usually you would argue, make some excuse, but you took the buss to work and we'll the buss after 10pm for a woman wasn't exactly a safe place, even if you took down serial killers for a living. So you agreed to a totally platonic friend driving another friend home after a long day.

"Why don't you want to play chess with me?" You asked once luke began driving down the farmiliar roads to your apartment. You weren't going to ask, really you weren't, but curiosity got the best of you.

"I didn't want to get my ass handed to me like everyone else," he laughed, but once again there was somthing else, somthing hidden. He didn't look at you, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"Luke?" You questioned, "you know you can tell me, right?"

He was quiet for a moment, changing the gears of the car, the radio loosing signal briefly.

"Promise you won't laugh?" He asked quietly, he seemed vulnerable, almost sacred.

You nodded, "not unless it's an embassading childhood story."

He laughed then, the tension in the air easing.

"Okay," he nodded, pulling up outside your apartment complex, pausing before he spoke. "I don't know how..."

He didn't look at you, his eyes were fixed on the road even though he had just parked.

You placed your hand on his knee.

It broke your heart that he felt embarrassed saying it. It didn't even occur to you that he wouldn't know. You'd just assumed he knew because he was intelligent. But that doesn't matter if no one has taught you how to play.

He looked at you then, vulnerable. He thought you would think he was stupid, as if he wasn't one of the smartest people you had ever met. As if he wasn't so talented and kind and not to mention beautiful inside and out.

"I can teach you." You mumber quietly, "you would be good at it, all you need to know are the basics. Not that you need to learn, I just think it would be fun to play with you." You similed before over thinking your last few words. "Chess" You amended, "playing chess with you."

He laughed at your fumble. You just grew redder. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed.

Luke placed his hand over yours, finally turning to face you with his beautiful smile. You grew redder again, this time not because of embarrassment.

"You would do that?" He asked, smiling more widely.

"Of course! I love chess and showing the beauty of it to someone that I love honestly is the dream. Platonically of course, not that you would think any differently I love you platonically. Not that you would think otherwise, obviously. I love you platonically. Not beacuse your unattractive. Your very attractive don't worry, not that you would, I mean look at you. Sorry I didn't mean like that I just ment... in a coworkers way you know? Sorry I'l stop now thanks for driving me home." Your hands covered your face, too embarrassed to look at luke.

He began to laugh. You wanted to die. Why on earth did you just say all of that? Honestly sometimes you felt as though your mouth ran 1000% faster than your brain when you were tired out from a long case.

"For someone so intellectual you can be so stupid princess," his hand left yours and tilted your chin to face him,as your hands fell from your face.

"What do you-?"

You began to question, but you couldn't finnish. Not that you wanted to anyways. Likes head diped forward and cut you off with a kiss. Slow, almost as though he was testing to make sure that this is what you really wanted. He didn't want to push you.

The kiss ended far to quickly. You wanted more, you needed more.

"I ment that in a 'non platonic' way, I mean it in a 'I find you very attractive' way, just incase you needed clarification." He laughed bashgully as he lingered only inches away from your face.

This time it was you who made the move, grabbing his face and pulling him into you. you flushed your lips against his as he reciprocated just as strongly. It felt right. It felt like this moment was overdue. you were falling deeper into his grasp. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you as close as he could in the car as you saw stars behind your eyelids.

"Do you want to come inside?" You asked finnally pulling away, he quirked an eyebrow at you. "To play chess?" You defended, although it didn't take a profiler to work out what you really ment.

"I'll come inside, but I can't promise that I'll play chess."

"Oh?"

Oh?

"What can I say... I much prefer princesses to queen's and King's, besides I'm far too impatient right now for chess. I've been waiting for this moment for far too long."

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cumulo-stratus · 1 year ago

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Love Like a Fathers

Request: Hello, hope you're having a good day/night, I was wondering if I could request Spencer x Father figure reader, theyre On a case the unsub tries to kill Spencer but reader protects him and gets hurt himself.

Pairing: platonic!Spencer reid x Father figure!reader

Summary: Y/n gets hurt protecting Spencer from an unsub, and y/n and spencer spend some time together at the hospital

warnings: cannon typical violence, gunshot wounds/blood, swearing, s1 spencer being an adorable little cutie-pie <3

A/N: Friend I'm so so so sry this has been a WIP for like month😭- I've had like no motivation to write :( thank you for the patience and for the lovely request, and although ive never written platonic for spencer, i did my best! btw the lovely dividers are by @cafekitsune (not proof read)

1.3k

Spencer Reid and Y/n L/n weren’t related by blood, but if you asked anyone that knew them- they would tell you that it doesnt matter. y/n treated spencer like the son he never had, and spencer treated y/n like the father he lost. Even if you didn’t know them, you could tell the pair were close. Spencers intellect bounced well of y/n’s wisdom. Hotch knew this, and often paired spencer with y/n because of it. And when they got called to a case in the small town of Trutney, Alabama, it was no different.

As soon as the plane landed l/n and reid had been paired off to go to the M.E.’s to look at the one body they had so far. And so the next 2 days went by as uneventfully as they could go on a case with the BAU. Interviews, and case files - take out around a conference table and calls to garcia- just a regular BAU case. Until the last day when they were sure they had the right guy; Daniel Wilson, he fit the profile perfectly. And so the team was spilt into 2 groups; one going to the house and one going to the workplace. Hotch sent y/n and spencer to the back knowing y/n would have spencers back if anything happened.

As they crept through the long hallways silently the pair would share glances every now and then. When they reached a split Y/n made a silent flick of his wrist ordering spencer to take the path to the right while y/n would take the path to the left. Y/n stalked down the hall with his gun raised leaving Spencer to do the same with the other hallway.

Y/n was clearing the final room at the end of the hall when the distant sound of grunting and a gun shot. Without another though y/n raced down the hall toward the continuous grunting yelping. Y/n just barely remembered to call for back up as he ran- Morgan's voice sounding through the phones speakers.

"What's up L/n-"

He was interrupted by y/n's out breath voice.

"I heard a shot from Reid's side of the house I need backup"

Before Morgan could respond y/n hung up, stuffing the phone in his back pocket. When y/n reached the source of the sounds, he found a door slightly ajar. He pushed it open all the way to find Spencer on the loop ground with the unsub above him. They were pushing against eachother trying sway the barrel of the gun in their favor. Spencer was trying to push the barrel away from his head while the unsub did the opposite. Without hesitation y/n crossed the room and grabbed the unsub roughly by his shoulders throwing him away from spencer. Spencer took no time at all the scramble away, his feet sliding as he fumbled to push himself away. Meanwhile y/n and the unsigned were in a struggle for the gun. And almost as if in slow mo, spencer saw a bullet leave the barrel and enter y/ns shoulder- right where his neck met his shoulders. The resounding bang that came with it caused spencers ears to ring. but caused everything to come back to normal speed was the second gunshot, from y/n to the unsubs chest. He fell to the ground, bleeding out.

“Spencer! spencer i need you to put pressure on the wound- okay?”

Despite the many filed first aid books he’d read, spencer couldnt recall a single bit of information- and was only listening y/n’s instructions.

“alright now use my sweater- ya its right over there. We need something to stop the bleeding-“

Y/n interrupted himself with small grunts and grimaces every time his shoulder moved. But luckily spencer was in it enough to properly use the sweater y/n had provided.

At this point spencers hands were soaked in blood, and so was the sweater. It was warm, and sticky- drying and cracking on the back of his hands. Just then Morgan came storming in, a mix of swat and paramedics trailing behind him. A paramedic took the sweater from spencer’s hands and he was pulled away by Morgan to checked out- despite his protests. spencer was quite insistent he stay with y/n but Morgan settled him enough to get checked out by telling him that he would be updated if anything happened.

Spencer stood in front of the open doors of an ambulance- restlessly wringing his hands together while an EMT patched the small gash on his forehead. Spencer had resisted saying anything about how he thought it was unnecessary- as it wasn’t even bleeding that much. But spencer knew better than to argue with Morgan at this point.

Spencer practically ran- which he didn’t do very often- to the nearest large black SUV. As he walked/ran across the lawn he called out to morgan.

“St. Mary’s right?”

“on 32nd street-“

spencer didnt allow morgan to finish- instead climbing into one of the FBI vehicles littering the street.

The fluorescent lights of the hospital burned spencers retinas as spoke the woman at the desk.

“excuse me where is Y/n L/n’s room?’

as he spoke, spencer drummed his fingers against the desk- anxious to see y/n. Make sure he was okay.

“Down the hall and to your left, room 328 sir”

Spencer barely managed a curt thank you and nod before he was speed walking down the hall. the lights in the hospital clashed with the stark white of the hall when spencer entered. They were dimmed to be only slightly brighter than the dark sky through the glass. spencer found y/n asleep soundly with a large bandage across his shoulder and butterfly bandages littering his exposed chest and face. Spencer could feel some of the weight lift off his shoulders when his eyes met y/ns closed ones.

----

Despite the dim light it still took effort for y/n keep his eyes open once he woke up. The first thing he noticed was sleeping form of Spencer draped over an uncomfortable looking chair. His back and neck were bent forward in what looked to be a not very comfortable position to sleep in.

Spencer stirred when y/n grunted quietly from the pain of sitting himself up. Spencer immediately rubbed the sleep from his eyes and went to help y/n, and as always y/n tried to tell Spencer he was fine and didn't need help. But y/n always made an exception for Spencer- especially he insisted with his innocent honey brown eyes.

"Spence I'm fine bud- come sit with me"

Y/n had a smile on his face and patted the spot next to him which he had now made by scooching over. Spencer shyly climbed up next y/n, his slacks and blazer looking out of place to the hospital gown y/n was wearing.

"You know you really scared me back there-"

Spencer was staring at his hands as he spoke- remembering the blood that had once coated them. Y/n took the opportunity to place a comforting comforting hand on Spencer's back, rubbing back and forth the way y/ns own family did.

"I know- but you can't rid of me that easily bud"

They both laughed lightly at that and instead of responding verbally Spencer leaned his head on y/ns shoulder, appreciating the warmth of y/ns excess internal heat. Spencer was often the one to take advantage of the human heater of a person y/n was. And this was one of those moments.

No more words were needed for the rest of the evening. They weren't needed for anything- the team could handle it (and it helped that Hotch knew how stressed Spencer was and let him know he could stay at the hospital with y/n).

And there; in the dimly lit hospital room, that smelled of disinfectant, Spencer felt more comforted than in his own home.

The End

Pls leave a like and a reblog!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #bau #cute #bau team #fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #Spencer reid x father figure! Reader #Platonic spencer #S1 Spencer #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds request #Request #requests open

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