#spencersawkwardficcontest

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Merely Luck

Summary: As the team hits dead-end after dead-end, Spencer becomes disheartened about the case, and after being yelled at by a local police officer, he finally snaps.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Angst-ish (more angry than sad)

Content Warnings: Swearing, arguing, and mentions of violence (in regards to the case)

Word Count: 1468

A/N: For @spencersawkward​‘s writing contest!! :)

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You watched from a distance as Spencer taped a photo of the most recent victim to the board, seeing the way his shoulders sagged as he took in the ever-growing collage of innocent people who were murdered. 

“Hey babe,” you crossed the room to him, “You doing ok?”

He sighed deeply, his eyes flicking from you to the board before shaking his head slightly.

“Do you want a hug?” 

He nodded, his voice soft when he said, “A hug would be nice.”

Immediately, you pulled him in, feeling him tuck his head in the crook of your neck as you ran your fingers up and down his back. The two of you stood like that for a few minutes before Spencer broke the hug, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before heading off to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee. 

Now it was your turn to look at the board, taking in the people that had been killed by the monster you were trying to catch. For the hundredth time, you tried desperately to see some sort of rhyme or reason in the unsub’s victim selection, but it was fruitless. As far as the team could tell, he was picking victims completely at random. 

You huffed a sigh before turning back from the board to go hunt down your friends for another brainstorming session. 

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“What about the golden ratio? You know, the whole ‘perfect face’ thing that Henry Grace was obsessed with? Have we cross-referenced all the victims faces with that?” Derek asked before taking another bite of the takeout you’d all gotten.

“Garcia already checked, none of them are matches,” You were standing in front of the board, addressing the team sitting around the table in front of you.

“Damnit,” He muttered under his breath before his eyes flicked to Spencer, who was sitting quietly at the back of the table, gaze laser focused on the board. “You got any ideas, pretty boy?”

Spencer just shook his head, his face expressionless. Derek leaned back in his seat, sighing. 

“We checked their jobs, Reid did a geographical profile, we cross checked all their routines and economic standings… what the hell are we missing?” Emily pinched the bridge of her nose, her face contorted in concentration. Just as she opened her mouth to pose another theory, the local police chief burst into the room. A clearly irritated Hotch followed closely behind him, and everyone’s heads snapped in the direction of the door swinging open.

“Alright, I’ve had it,” He started. Immediately, Hotch cut in.

“Sir, as I’ve told you before, my team is working very diligently to put together a comprehensive profile, but there’s a lot of variables that we just don’t have enough information to fill in yet -”

“People are dying, Agent Hotchner. My people are dying. I don’t have time to just sit around and wait for your team to bullshit their way to an answer. I was against this from the start, and I’m sure as hell against it now that I’ve realized all you people do is sit around and wait to get lucky.”

“Sir, I can assure you that we’ve caught many killers using a profile alone. It’s not merely ‘waiting to get lucky,’ it’s a scientific study of behavior -”

“Bullshit,” He turned to address the rest of you, as well as Hotch, “You’re the FBI’s perfect con-team, funded by our hard-earned tax dollars to sit around and eat takeout while more members of my community are killed every single day. You don’t give a rat’s ass about helping anyone other than yourselves, and I’m not just going to stand around waiting when I could be knocking down doors right now, actually doing something to help someone.”

You all stared at the officer, dumbfounded, and in various degrees of hurt. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard it, but it never stung any less to hear people say that the practice you’d devoted your life to was all a scam.

For a moment, nobody said anything. Until Spencer.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It was quiet, muttered under his breath. His face was still unreadable as he stared at the table, and you knew the officer’s outburst couldn’t have been easy to hear. He’d been taking the case really hard, and for someone to insinuate that he didn’t care… 

The officer’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“What did you just say to me, boy?”

“I said that you have no idea what you’re talking about,” Spencer repeated, louder this time. He raised his head, looking the man directly in the eye. “We have been working our asses off on this case for the last two weeks, and for you to come in here and call our work a con is completely disrespectful, not to mention -”

“If you’ve been working your asses off, then where is the killer? We’re no closer to catching him than we were before you lot showed up!”

Spencer’s eyes darkened at being cut off, and you were surprised by his assertiveness. He glared daggers at the officer before speaking again.

“I wasn’t finished. Not to mention that saying my team - my friends - and I don’t care about anyone but ourselves is… it’s…” He trailed off, shaking his hands out as he got progressively more overwhelmed with emotion, “I don’t even have a word for how heartbreaking the very notion of that is. We’ve dedicated our lives to helping people. Multiple of us have been shot, or kidnapped, or tortured, because our biggest concern was helping people. So please trust me when I say that we are just as distraught about the lack of progress in this case as you are. And we will continue to do the best we possibly can to catch whoever is endangering the lives of those in your community. But for you to come in here and accuse us of being heartless cons who are merely coasting off luck discounts the work we’ve done both on this case and on hundreds of other cases. We will continue to work just as hard as your team has been, but we’re not going to tolerate being shit on and disrespected just because you don’t understand what we do.”

He sat back in his chair, a look of defiance on his face even as his gaze fell back to the table, the eye contact becoming too much. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and your heart felt like it was going to explode with pride. The officer looked from the door, to where Spencer was sitting, to us, and then to Hotch, not saying a word. The expression on his face was a mixture of what seemed to be shame and anger, and Hotch was the first one to break the silence.

“We need to have a conversation,” He said to the officer. The man nodded, and he and Hotch left the room yet again, leaving you all sitting there in various states of shock. After a moment, everyone started to speak at once.

“Damn, pretty boy! I didn’t know you had it in you,” Derek said, followed by Emily saying, “Reid you are my new favorite person,” and JJ’s simple, “What just happened,” before you asked, “Spence are you ok?” as Rossi merely chuckled.

He held up his hands, silencing the chorus of people. You could tell he was still a little bit emotionally overwhelmed, but he smiled before addressing everyone.

“I will be right back but I need like five minutes - Y/N come with me? Please?” 

You nodded, following him out of the room and into the police station hallway. Immediately, you looked at him with concern as he clenched and unclenched his hands, his back resting up against the wall.

“Babe? You alright?”

“I’m fine, I just don’t get this angry very often. It’s a lot.”

“I know. But if it’s any consolation, you were an absolute badass back there.”

He looked over at you, a small smile gracing his face. “Really?”

“Really. You’re incredible, Spencer.”

A blush overtook his features, and you laughed. You two hung out in the hallway for a couple more minutes, giving him time to just breathe until he seemed to have calmed down, his emotions more in check.

“You feel better?” You asked. He nodded.

“Much better. Thank you.”

“Of course,” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before grinning, “Now are you ready to go solve this fucking case?”

“I mean, we kind of have to at this point. There’s no way in hell I’m letting that officer get away with thinking the work we do is ‘merely luck.’”

You laughed, and the two of you headed back into the conference room to continue working.

[everyonesfavoritepipecleaner]

Familiar

Summary: in which reader realizes it's not a bad thing to stay put

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GenderNeutral!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: fluffy af

Content Warning: a teeny bit of anxiety/self-doubt, made up for with some smooching 💋

Prompt: You have no idea what you're talking about

A/N: I was playing around with this idea when I saw @spencersawkward writing contest and I knew I had to work in the prompt!! I also completely made up reader's job for this so let's pretend something like this position exists for the sake of the fic 😇 I hope you all have as much fun reading as I did writing! Drop a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed, I'm still new to this whole writing thing and your support means the literal world to me <3

Something about familiarity has always felt stifling to me. In my opinion, routines are the reason so many people trudge through life with their heads down — breathing, but never actually living. It’s why I’ve never been one to stay in the same place for long.

Or maybe it’s that I never felt like I belonged anywhere, with anyone. Never had a reason to stay.

But I think I may have one now.

That’s why I’m standing anxiously on Spencer’s doorstep, marveling at everything that’s happened to lead me here. I’ve built my career with the FBI’s Operational Technology Division, analyzing employee processes and streamlining data delivery to help teams run more efficiently and productively. When I say it like that it sounds dreadfully boring, but it’s allowed me to travel to work with the Bureau’s extensive network of teams and task forces, typically working with a field office anywhere from two to six months before moving on to the next one. I find it incredibly fulfilling to analyze how different departments work together and use that info to help them come up with plans to ensure everything runs smoothly.

I’ve always loved my job, more than content to flit from place to place making acquaintances, a select few I’d venture to call friends. I’m great at not getting attached — in all honesty, probably too good — and up until recently I had never seen anything wrong with it. But from the moment I set foot in the BAU four months ago, something changed. Nothing could have prepared me for the way they welcomed me into their chosen family with such open arms. For the first time in my life, I’ve been sitting with the lingering feeling that I made a mistake living this way all these years. That by choosing the freedom of the job I missed out on so many of the deep connections that make life worthwhile. Because now that I’ve gotten a taste, I’m not willing to give them up. One by one, the members of this team have each carved out a special place in my heart.

JJ, through her warm hugs and the way she hums softly to herself when she’s concentrating on her paperwork. Emily, with her sharp wit and uncanny ability to know exactly when I needed a cup of coffee. The glitter gel pens Penelope gifted me on my second day in the office, a testament to her innate talent for making the world a happier place. The way Hotch’s eyes crinkle with laughter while listening to Derek and Penelope’s banter — you have to look closely but it’s there — and when Rossi’s face lights up as he regales the team with stories of the early days at the BAU. The deep rumble of Derek’s laugh and the effortless way he makes everyone he talks to feel important, feel heard.

And then there’s Dr. Spencer Reid.

What started off as friendship quickly blossomed into something more, despite my initial (albeit weak) attempts to stop it. None of my carefully constructed walls mattered with him. He tore them down, brick by brick, until I was left wondering if they had ever existed in the first place.

I could write a novel about all the ways he’s taken my heart and made it his own. From the way his fingers trace absentminded patterns up and down my arm when we cuddle on the couch, to how he’s always gently reminding me to stay hydrated or eat a snack — even when he forgets to take care of himself. When he showed up at my door on a rare free weekend with two pairs of roller skates in hand, all because I mentioned in passing that I thought it would be fun to learn. How we spent that evening patching each other up in his tiny kitchen, gentle kisses pressed against scraped knees and elbows, because it turns out neither of us are the most coordinated, and concrete and roller skates are a brutal combination.

It isn’t just that from the moment we met it was like we had known each other our whole lives, or that being around him makes me want to be a better person. Nor is it that we can tell what the other is thinking simply by way of a shared glance, that elusive way of communicating without having to say a word at all.

It’s all of that, yet so much more. What do you call it when the person you’ve been looking for your whole life suddenly steps into the spotlight? That instant when the curtain rises and everything falls into place? The moment has arrived, the show has begun. I’d call it fate, but even that seems too simple a word.

It’s more like finding your way home, when home is the place you secretly longed for, but convinced yourself you’d never have. It’s realizing, ‘Oh, of course it’s you. I can’t believe I ever thought it could be anyone else.’

Which brings me back to the reason I’m standing outside his door. I’ve been offered a promotion to the assistant director of my division, a position that would require me to work in Quantico permanently. There’s not a doubt in my mind that I want to take the job, to stay with him, and the fact that I feel so strongly about him after such a relatively short time is, quite frankly, terrifying. Almost as terrifying as having ask if he feels the same way. My self-doubt is starting to creep in, telling myself that I’ve read too much into this, that he only wanted me temporarily. For all our time spent together, we never talked about the future of our relationship, if he even sees one with me at all.

A different part of me is wondering how I can be so sure I want to stay after spending years of my life actively working against the idea. But deep down, I know the way I was living before was nothing more than a defense mechanism, and that this is what I've wanted all along. Not something to wear me down into the routines of life, but something that will help me wake up every day and see the world with a fresh perspective. And I’ve found that in Spencer.

With that thought ringing in my mind, I finally muster the courage to knock. I hear his footsteps pad across the hardwood floors inside before the door swings open to reveal his smiling face, “Y/N, hi.”

I never fail to get butterflies when he says my name.

“Hey Spence,” I return the smile as I step inside, taking a deep breath to steel my resolve.

“Is everything okay? You sounded anxious on the phone," his words are muffled against my hair as he draws me close. He’s doing his best to appear calm, but I can see the faint worry lines that crease across his forehead. You don’t work with profilers for four months without picking up a few of the tricks of the trade.

“Yes — yes, more than okay, really!” I say in an attempt to soothe both his nerves and my own as we make our way to his worn leather couch, our bodies subconsciously angling toward one another as we settle in. “So, you know my time with the BAU is coming to an end soon.”

He nods and reaches for my hand, rubbing his thumb in small circles across the back to encourage me to continue, “But I had an interesting conversation with my chief today and, um, she wants to promote me to Assistant Director of the Operational Technology Division. Here, at Quantico.”

“Are you serious?” he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear, “Y/N, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you, you’re going to be incredible.” He wraps his arms around me in an earnest hug. I squeeze him back, not quite matching his enthusiasm, a fact that he picks up on quickly.

“Wait, why are you hesitating? Are you not going to accept it?” His face falls at the thought.

“I want to Spencer, truly. But I need to know what it means for us if I do, where your head’s at with this relationship. Do you think it’s a good idea?” I trail off, nervously biting my bottom lip while I await his reaction.

“You want to know what I think?” he asks, his other hand coming to rest lightly on my thigh, leaning in close until our foreheads are almost touching.

“Always,” I murmur, and I feel my heart hammering against my chest.

“I think,” he plants a chaste kiss on my lips, “you want me to ask you to stay.” His voice is now laced with a smug tone, a suggestive smirk lighting up his features.

My eyes grow wide at his response, caught off guard hearing something other than the sweet Spencer I’ve been accustomed to, although I’d be lying if I said it didn’t also send a surge of electricity straight through me. I scoff and push him away by his shoulder, feigning annoyance at his cockiness, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He tugs at the small of my back to pull me back into him, pausing with his lips barely brushing against mine as he breathes, “Don’t I? I am a genius, after all.”

I drape my arms around his neck and tangle my hands in his hair, closing the distance to meet his mouth in a desperate fervor. When his teeth skim over my bottom lip and bite down gently, I let out a soft whimper, and he pulls me onto him so I’m straddling his lap. All the teasing from before has evaporated, replaced by a moment filled with promise.

We pull away to catch our breath and he cradles my face in his hands, peppering me with kisses, voicing his feelings in between.

“Stay.

Please stay.

With me.”

His lips have made their way to my neck now. “I’m sorry for leaving you with any room to doubt how badly I need you,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. As if he needs to make his intentions any more clear. As if each time his mouth meets mine it isn’t threatening to pull the truth straight from my lips. He kisses me until finally the words are ripping through the barrier, no longer capable of being contained.

“Spencer?” I say, still breathless as I gaze into his eyes.

“Yes?”

“I am so in love with you. Completely, hopelessly, irrevocably in love."

He responds without missing a beat, “I’m in love with you, too, Y/N. God, it astounds me how much I love you.”

I beam at him, and the way he smiles back solidifies my newfound belief that familiarity isn’t such a bad thing.

It’s intimate. It’s comforting. It’s home. And I can’t wait to be familiar with Spencer Reid forever.

Taglist: @idonotexiste @measure-in-pain @behindyourbarrette @reidsbookclub @unmitigatedsuperiority @notanotherreidgirl

fill this out to be tagged in my future works!

[spencersawkward]

✨spencersawkward’s writing contest!✨

^ this is me giving each of you an individual kiss hehe. HI! this is kinda late but i'm so so excited and grateful for all 2,000 of you! thank you so much for following me, reading my work, and giving me a chance. writing here has been so fun and i love talking to you about all things Spencer/Matthew. i’ll stop gushing but just know that i adore you 💕 NOW FOR THE STUFF YOU CAME TO SEE:

the Spencer Reid writing contest!

i've never done one of these before so if i miss something, just ask. also, this whole format i got from @spenciebabie's contest bc i had no idea how to do it and hers was super effective so thank you, Ellie!! i hope it’s ok but lmk if not!

the writing contest is going to be centered around this prompt: "you have no idea what you're talking about."

or

you can write a sequel to any of my Spencer one-shots.

there will be two winners! both will have their fic on my masterlist, and all entries will be placed in a contest masterlist for everyone to read and enjoy.

below are some rules and more info!

- for the prompt option: as long as you have the line once in your one-shot (any character can say it), you're good. also, please make sure it's bolded so that i can find it easily when reading. you can write about whatever trope/plot you want, as long as it abides by my guidelines (bc i'll be posting it on here).

in that vein, anyone who wishes to enter must be 18+ bc the majority of my content is nsfw. if you're not comfortable listing your age in your bio, please reach out to me individually to let me know you're over 18. THAT SAID--

smut, fluff, and angst are all welcome!! you can do a combination or just one. the minimum word count is 500, but if it's longer, please make sure to place a "keep reading" (if you don't know how to add one of those, ask!).

- please tag your entries with the hashtag #spencersawkwardficcontest and tag me in your entry so that i can keep track of all of them!

- the last day to enter is going to be August 12th, 2021! I'll be reblogging all entries on here.

please use the following format for your one-shots:

Title

summary: (description of the one-shot)

pairing: (spencer reid x reader)

category: (smut, angst, fluff)

content warnings: (potential triggers, specific sexual content)

word count: (minimum 500)

A/N: (anything else you wanna add! if you choose the sequel option, link the one-shot here.)

if you have any questions about this at all, please feel free to message or ask me or whatever you're comfortable with! i'm super looking forward to reading your entries and posting them 🥰

best of luck! 💜

[anony-smut]

The Night We Met - Spencer Reid

Summary: inspired by 'The Night We Met' (Lord Huron). If you haven't heard it, go listen to it. If you have... then you know where this is going.

Originally written for @spencersawkward ‘s writing contest, but I've had this loose plot idea for as long as I've thought about writing Criminal Minds Fanfiction.

Pairing: Spencer x Y/N (first time doing x reader on this platform so pls be gentle lmao)

Category: angst? Nah, it's more just super bittersweet 'fluff'. if you squint. Good luck, brave readers.

Content/Trigger Warning: feels. mental illness/disease (Alzheimer's). death, medically induced. needles. More feels.

Word Count: 840

note: I was a bit down to the wire on this submission, but it’s still August 11 in my time zone, so I hope I’m not too late :)

---

"I love you, you know that?"

Y/N smiled weakly at her husband where he lay in his hospital bed, monitors beeping and whirring as they had been for the past seven hours.

"You don't know what you're saying."

Spencer playfully rolled his eyes at her, running his weathered thumb over her hand where it was intertwined with his. "I have an eidetic memory, don't you forget that."

She laughed softly and shook her head, putting on her best disapproving face before leaning in to kiss his cheek.

It was the moments like this that hurt the most.

The times that, even for just a second, she could forget about his Alzheimer's. Act like things were normal. As if they had all the time in the world.

The seconds where she could forget about the contract that he had signed so that he hold be coherent when he passed on under medical euthanasia.

"Mrs. Reid?"

Y/N turned gently to the door, smiling warmly at the nurse standing in the doorway.

The nurse flipped through his clipboard before he looked back up at her. "We're ready whenever you are, alright?"

She hummed in agreement as he left, biting her lip to stave off the tears that were bubbling just below the surface.

"Don't cry," Spencer said softly. "I don't want to cry, and if you cry, then I'll cry, and you know how that goes."

"I don't know what to do," Y/N breathed, her mouth going dry. "I don't want you to go Spencer. Please."

"I don't want to die alone, Y/N. My mom made it to 90, but she didn't even know her own name when she finally went. She went out scared and alone because she was too far gone to sign on to euthanasia."

Y/N shook her head, tears creeping across her lashline. "I can't do this without you, Spencer, I can't."

Spencer reached his hand up and cupped her cheek in it, wiping away the warm tears that trickled down. "I'm not going to leave you. I promise. I'll always be here, even if you can't see me."

Her shoulders shuddered with every breath, begging and pleading in muddled gibberish even after he pulled her into the hospital bed beside him, his hands running softly through her grey hair as her hands curled into his chest.

"Do you remember the first time we sat like this?"

Y/N felt a smile crackling just beneath the surface when she nodded, soft laughter rumbling through Spencer's chest afterwards.

It was 2009. The first hour of New Year's Day ticking onto the clock, when Spencer called her cell after a few too many with Derek and Penelope at some karaoke bar in greater DC. Asking her in the most roundabout way possible to come pick him up because Derek and Penelope had both run off with their own hookups.

He was a chatty drunk, spilling all his problems and secrets out over the old jazz he insisted on playing in the car. He barely made it up the stairs, all of his lanky frame draped over her shoulders as she tried as delicately as possible to leave him there.

He had cried, and she had made a last-ditch effort to make it stop.

She would give anything to go back to that night, even if just to tell herself to go home and let him sober up by himself. Leave their relationship as what it was: strained at best, with neither party making any big effort to enjoy the other. Go back to when she had her whole life ahead of her. To days where 10 years seemed like a long time, and ten minutes felt like forever.

Give up all the love so she wouldn't have to feel all the pain.

The tears came back with vengeance when she heard the soft click of the nurse call button.

Maybe it was good that he had done it. Lord knows she wouldn't be able to do it herself.

Y/N barely got herself back into her chair, her hand never letting go of his even as the nurse came in with the injection loaded up into a needle.

"Y/N?" Spencer whispered, eyes squeezed shut when the nurse administered the injection.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Y/N murmured. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I don't want my last words to be something stupid, so I'm going to say I love you."

Y/N chuckled softly, meeting Spencer's small grin with one of her own.

"I love you too, Spencer. I always will."

He smiled contently, letting his head rest further into the pillow.

"Goodbye, Spencer. I love you so, so much," Y/N whispered, her chest tightening with every word while her hand brushed across his cheek.

"Not goodbye," Spencer replied, yawning sleepily and looking over at her. "Goodnight, but not goodbye."

Y/N bit her lip and nodded, the hazel of his eyes slowly disappearing under his eyelids.

"Goodnight, Spencer."

Spencer inhaled deeply, squeezing her hand and smiling just a bit wider as the heart rate monitor began to slow.

"Night-night, Y/N."

[spencersawkward]

💐fic contest masterlist!💐

here are the entries so far for my Spencer Reid fic contest! there’s still time to submit 🥰

entry guidelines

🪐🪐🪐

Tranquillement by @spencerreidat3am: Spencer’s first night home from prison is complicated.

Merely Luck by @spencersstrawberryjello: as the team hits dead-end after dead-end, Spencer becomes disheartened about the case, and after being yelled at by a local police officer, he finally snaps.

Familiar by @everyonesfavoritepipecleaner: in which reader realizes it's not a bad thing to stay put.

[spencersawkward]

BYE Spencer snapping and standing up for himself and the rest of the team is what i’m living for 🤤 i loved this and the tension!! i could practically see his body language lmao— it’s giving the s13/14 (i can’t remember which) JJ plane scene vibes 😌

Merely Luck

Summary: As the team hits dead-end after dead-end, Spencer becomes disheartened about the case, and after being yelled at by a local police officer, he finally snaps.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Angst-ish (more angry than sad)

Content Warnings: Swearing, arguing, and mentions of violence (in regards to the case)

Word Count: 1468

A/N: For @spencersawkward​‘s writing contest!! :)

———————————————————————————————————–

Keep reading

[spencersawkward]

STOP THIS IS ADORABLE. when Spence got cocky i literally blushed like ok 😏 this was such a good mixture of sweetness and teasing i LOVED IT. also i know you said you made up the job but it sounded totally believable tbh like you pulled that aspect off so well!

Familiar

Summary: in which reader realizes it's not a bad thing to stay put

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GenderNeutral!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: fluffy af

Content Warning: a teeny bit of anxiety/self-doubt, made up for with some smooching 💋

Prompt: You have no idea what you're talking about

A/N: I was playing around with this idea when I saw @spencersawkward writing contest and I knew I had to work in the prompt!! I also completely made up reader's job for this so let's pretend something like this position exists for the sake of the fic 😇 I hope you all have as much fun reading as I did writing! Drop a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed, I'm still new to this whole writing thing and your support means the literal world to me <3

Something about familiarity has always felt stifling to me. In my opinion, routines are the reason so many people trudge through life with their heads down — breathing, but never actually living. It’s why I’ve never been one to stay in the same place for long.

Or maybe it’s that I never felt like I belonged anywhere, with anyone. Never had a reason to stay.

But I think I may have one now.

That’s why I’m standing anxiously on Spencer’s doorstep, marveling at everything that’s happened to lead me here. I’ve built my career with the FBI’s Operational Technology Division, analyzing employee processes and streamlining data delivery to help teams run more efficiently and productively. When I say it like that it sounds dreadfully boring, but it’s allowed me to travel to work with the Bureau’s extensive network of teams and task forces, typically working with a field office anywhere from two to six months before moving on to the next one. I find it incredibly fulfilling to analyze how different departments work together and use that info to help them come up with plans to ensure everything runs smoothly.

I’ve always loved my job, more than content to flit from place to place making acquaintances, a select few I’d venture to call friends. I’m great at not getting attached — in all honesty, probably too good — and up until recently I had never seen anything wrong with it. But from the moment I set foot in the BAU four months ago, something changed. Nothing could have prepared me for the way they welcomed me into their chosen family with such open arms. For the first time in my life, I’ve been sitting with the lingering feeling that I made a mistake living this way all these years. That by choosing the freedom of the job I missed out on so many of the deep connections that make life worthwhile. Because now that I’ve gotten a taste, I’m not willing to give them up. One by one, the members of this team have each carved out a special place in my heart.

JJ, through her warm hugs and the way she hums softly to herself when she’s concentrating on her paperwork. Emily, with her sharp wit and uncanny ability to know exactly when I needed a cup of coffee. The glitter gel pens Penelope gifted me on my second day in the office, a testament to her innate talent for making the world a happier place. The way Hotch’s eyes crinkle with laughter while listening to Derek and Penelope’s banter — you have to look closely but it’s there — and when Rossi’s face lights up as he regales the team with stories of the early days at the BAU. The deep rumble of Derek’s laugh and the effortless way he makes everyone he talks to feel important, feel heard.

And then there’s Dr. Spencer Reid.

What started off as friendship quickly blossomed into something more, despite my initial (albeit weak) attempts to stop it. None of my carefully constructed walls mattered with him. He tore them down, brick by brick, until I was left wondering if they had ever existed in the first place.

I could write a novel about all the ways he’s taken my heart and made it his own. From the way his fingers trace absentminded patterns up and down my arm when we cuddle on the couch, to how he’s always gently reminding me to stay hydrated or eat a snack — even when he forgets to take care of himself. When he showed up at my door on a rare free weekend with two pairs of roller skates in hand, all because I mentioned in passing that I thought it would be fun to learn. How we spent that evening patching each other up in his tiny kitchen, gentle kisses pressed against scraped knees and elbows, because it turns out neither of us are the most coordinated, and concrete and roller skates are a brutal combination.

It isn’t just that from the moment we met it was like we had known each other our whole lives, or that being around him makes me want to be a better person. Nor is it that we can tell what the other is thinking simply by way of a shared glance, that elusive way of communicating without having to say a word at all.

It’s all of that, yet so much more. What do you call it when the person you’ve been looking for your whole life suddenly steps into the spotlight? That instant when the curtain rises and everything falls into place? The moment has arrived, the show has begun. I’d call it fate, but even that seems too simple a word.

It’s more like finding your way home, when home is the place you secretly longed for, but convinced yourself you’d never have. It’s realizing, ‘Oh, of course it’s you. I can’t believe I ever thought it could be anyone else.’

Which brings me back to the reason I’m standing outside his door. I’ve been offered a promotion to the assistant director of my division, a position that would require me to work in Quantico permanently. There’s not a doubt in my mind that I want to take the job, to stay with him, and the fact that I feel so strongly about him after such a relatively short time is, quite frankly, terrifying. Almost as terrifying as having ask if he feels the same way. My self-doubt is starting to creep in, telling myself that I’ve read too much into this, that he only wanted me temporarily. For all our time spent together, we never talked about the future of our relationship, if he even sees one with me at all.

A different part of me is wondering how I can be so sure I want to stay after spending years of my life actively working against the idea. But deep down, I know the way I was living before was nothing more than a defense mechanism, and that this is what I've wanted all along. Not something to wear me down into the routines of life, but something that will help me wake up every day and see the world with a fresh perspective. And I’ve found that in Spencer.

With that thought ringing in my mind, I finally muster the courage to knock. I hear his footsteps pad across the hardwood floors inside before the door swings open to reveal his smiling face, “Y/N, hi.”

I never fail to get butterflies when he says my name.

“Hey Spence,” I return the smile as I step inside, taking a deep breath to steel my resolve.

“Is everything okay? You sounded anxious on the phone," his words are muffled against my hair as he draws me close. He’s doing his best to appear calm, but I can see the faint worry lines that crease across his forehead. You don’t work with profilers for four months without picking up a few of the tricks of the trade.

“Yes — yes, more than okay, really!” I say in an attempt to soothe both his nerves and my own as we make our way to his worn leather couch, our bodies subconsciously angling toward one another as we settle in. “So, you know my time with the BAU is coming to an end soon.”

He nods and reaches for my hand, rubbing his thumb in small circles across the back to encourage me to continue, “But I had an interesting conversation with my chief today and, um, she wants to promote me to Assistant Director of the Operational Technology Division. Here, at Quantico.”

“Are you serious?” he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear, “Y/N, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you, you’re going to be incredible.” He wraps his arms around me in an earnest hug. I squeeze him back, not quite matching his enthusiasm, a fact that he picks up on quickly.

“Wait, why are you hesitating? Are you not going to accept it?” His face falls at the thought.

“I want to Spencer, truly. But I need to know what it means for us if I do, where your head’s at with this relationship. Do you think it’s a good idea?” I trail off, nervously biting my bottom lip while I await his reaction.

“You want to know what I think?” he asks, his other hand coming to rest lightly on my thigh, leaning in close until our foreheads are almost touching.

“Always,” I murmur, and I feel my heart hammering against my chest.

“I think,” he plants a chaste kiss on my lips, “you want me to ask you to stay.” His voice is now laced with a smug tone, a suggestive smirk lighting up his features.

My eyes grow wide at his response, caught off guard hearing something other than the sweet Spencer I’ve been accustomed to, although I’d be lying if I said it didn’t also send a surge of electricity straight through me. I scoff and push him away by his shoulder, feigning annoyance at his cockiness, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He tugs at the small of my back to pull me back into him, pausing with his lips barely brushing against mine as he breathes, “Don’t I? I am a genius, after all.”

I drape my arms around his neck and tangle my hands in his hair, closing the distance to meet his mouth in a desperate fervor. When his teeth skim over my bottom lip and bite down gently, I let out a soft whimper, and he pulls me onto him so I’m straddling his lap. All the teasing from before has evaporated, replaced by a moment filled with promise.

We pull away to catch our breath and he cradles my face in his hands, peppering me with kisses, voicing his feelings in between.

“Stay.

Please stay.

With me.”

His lips have made their way to my neck now. “I’m sorry for leaving you with any room to doubt how badly I need you,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. As if he needs to make his intentions any more clear. As if each time his mouth meets mine it isn’t threatening to pull the truth straight from my lips. He kisses me until finally the words are ripping through the barrier, no longer capable of being contained.

“Spencer?” I say, still breathless as I gaze into his eyes.

“Yes?”

“I am so in love with you. Completely, hopelessly, irrevocably in love."

He responds without missing a beat, “I’m in love with you, too, Y/N. God, it astounds me how much I love you.”

I beam at him, and the way he smiles back solidifies my newfound belief that familiarity isn’t such a bad thing.

It’s intimate. It’s comforting. It’s home. And I can’t wait to be familiar with Spencer Reid forever.

Taglist: @idonotexiste @measure-in-pain @behindyourbarrette @reidsbookclub @unmitigatedsuperiority @notanotherreidgirl

fill this out to be tagged in my future works!

[reidsbookclub]

Idk how it happened but invisible string ( Taylor Swift ) and Truly, Madly, Deeply (1D) played back to back while reading this and it was just perfect

Familiar

Summary: in which reader realizes it's not a bad thing to stay put

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GenderNeutral!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: fluffy af

Content Warning: a teeny bit of anxiety/self-doubt, made up for with some smooching 💋

Prompt: You have no idea what you're talking about

A/N: I was playing around with this idea when I saw @spencersawkward writing contest and I knew I had to work in the prompt!! I also completely made up reader's job for this so let's pretend something like this position exists for the sake of the fic 😇 I hope you all have as much fun reading as I did writing! Drop a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed, I'm still new to this whole writing thing and your support means the literal world to me <3

Something about familiarity has always felt stifling to me. In my opinion, routines are the reason so many people trudge through life with their heads down — breathing, but never actually living. It’s why I’ve never been one to stay in the same place for long.

Or maybe it’s that I never felt like I belonged anywhere, with anyone. Never had a reason to stay.

But I think I may have one now.

That’s why I’m standing anxiously on Spencer’s doorstep, marveling at everything that’s happened to lead me here. I’ve built my career with the FBI’s Operational Technology Division, analyzing employee processes and streamlining data delivery to help teams run more efficiently and productively. When I say it like that it sounds dreadfully boring, but it’s allowed me to travel to work with the Bureau’s extensive network of teams and task forces, typically working with a field office anywhere from two to six months before moving on to the next one. I find it incredibly fulfilling to analyze how different departments work together and use that info to help them come up with plans to ensure everything runs smoothly.

I’ve always loved my job, more than content to flit from place to place making acquaintances, a select few I’d venture to call friends. I’m great at not getting attached — in all honesty, probably too good — and up until recently I had never seen anything wrong with it. But from the moment I set foot in the BAU four months ago, something changed. Nothing could have prepared me for the way they welcomed me into their chosen family with such open arms. For the first time in my life, I’ve been sitting with the lingering feeling that I made a mistake living this way all these years. That by choosing the freedom of the job I missed out on so many of the deep connections that make life worthwhile. Because now that I’ve gotten a taste, I’m not willing to give them up. One by one, the members of this team have each carved out a special place in my heart.

JJ, through her warm hugs and the way she hums softly to herself when she’s concentrating on her paperwork. Emily, with her sharp wit and uncanny ability to know exactly when I needed a cup of coffee. The glitter gel pens Penelope gifted me on my second day in the office, a testament to her innate talent for making the world a happier place. The way Hotch’s eyes crinkle with laughter while listening to Derek and Penelope’s banter — you have to look closely but it’s there — and when Rossi’s face lights up as he regales the team with stories of the early days at the BAU. The deep rumble of Derek’s laugh and the effortless way he makes everyone he talks to feel important, feel heard.

And then there’s Dr. Spencer Reid.

What started off as friendship quickly blossomed into something more, despite my initial (albeit weak) attempts to stop it. None of my carefully constructed walls mattered with him. He tore them down, brick by brick, until I was left wondering if they had ever existed in the first place.

I could write a novel about all the ways he’s taken my heart and made it his own. From the way his fingers trace absentminded patterns up and down my arm when we cuddle on the couch, to how he’s always gently reminding me to stay hydrated or eat a snack — even when he forgets to take care of himself. When he showed up at my door on a rare free weekend with two pairs of roller skates in hand, all because I mentioned in passing that I thought it would be fun to learn. How we spent that evening patching each other up in his tiny kitchen, gentle kisses pressed against scraped knees and elbows, because it turns out neither of us are the most coordinated, and concrete and roller skates are a brutal combination.

It isn’t just that from the moment we met it was like we had known each other our whole lives, or that being around him makes me want to be a better person. Nor is it that we can tell what the other is thinking simply by way of a shared glance, that elusive way of communicating without having to say a word at all.

It’s all of that, yet so much more. What do you call it when the person you’ve been looking for your whole life suddenly steps into the spotlight? That instant when the curtain rises and everything falls into place? The moment has arrived, the show has begun. I’d call it fate, but even that seems too simple a word.

It’s more like finding your way home, when home is the place you secretly longed for, but convinced yourself you’d never have. It’s realizing, ‘Oh, of course it’s you. I can’t believe I ever thought it could be anyone else.’

Which brings me back to the reason I’m standing outside his door. I’ve been offered a promotion to the assistant director of my division, a position that would require me to work in Quantico permanently. There’s not a doubt in my mind that I want to take the job, to stay with him, and the fact that I feel so strongly about him after such a relatively short time is, quite frankly, terrifying. Almost as terrifying as having ask if he feels the same way. My self-doubt is starting to creep in, telling myself that I’ve read too much into this, that he only wanted me temporarily. For all our time spent together, we never talked about the future of our relationship, if he even sees one with me at all.

A different part of me is wondering how I can be so sure I want to stay after spending years of my life actively working against the idea. But deep down, I know the way I was living before was nothing more than a defense mechanism, and that this is what I've wanted all along. Not something to wear me down into the routines of life, but something that will help me wake up every day and see the world with a fresh perspective. And I’ve found that in Spencer.

With that thought ringing in my mind, I finally muster the courage to knock. I hear his footsteps pad across the hardwood floors inside before the door swings open to reveal his smiling face, “Y/N, hi.”

I never fail to get butterflies when he says my name.

“Hey Spence,” I return the smile as I step inside, taking a deep breath to steel my resolve.

“Is everything okay? You sounded anxious on the phone," his words are muffled against my hair as he draws me close. He’s doing his best to appear calm, but I can see the faint worry lines that crease across his forehead. You don’t work with profilers for four months without picking up a few of the tricks of the trade.

“Yes — yes, more than okay, really!” I say in an attempt to soothe both his nerves and my own as we make our way to his worn leather couch, our bodies subconsciously angling toward one another as we settle in. “So, you know my time with the BAU is coming to an end soon.”

He nods and reaches for my hand, rubbing his thumb in small circles across the back to encourage me to continue, “But I had an interesting conversation with my chief today and, um, she wants to promote me to Assistant Director of the Operational Technology Division. Here, at Quantico.”

“Are you serious?” he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear, “Y/N, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you, you’re going to be incredible.” He wraps his arms around me in an earnest hug. I squeeze him back, not quite matching his enthusiasm, a fact that he picks up on quickly.

“Wait, why are you hesitating? Are you not going to accept it?” His face falls at the thought.

“I want to Spencer, truly. But I need to know what it means for us if I do, where your head’s at with this relationship. Do you think it’s a good idea?” I trail off, nervously biting my bottom lip while I await his reaction.

“You want to know what I think?” he asks, his other hand coming to rest lightly on my thigh, leaning in close until our foreheads are almost touching.

“Always,” I murmur, and I feel my heart hammering against my chest.

“I think,” he plants a chaste kiss on my lips, “you want me to ask you to stay.” His voice is now laced with a smug tone, a suggestive smirk lighting up his features.

My eyes grow wide at his response, caught off guard hearing something other than the sweet Spencer I’ve been accustomed to, although I’d be lying if I said it didn’t also send a surge of electricity straight through me. I scoff and push him away by his shoulder, feigning annoyance at his cockiness, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He tugs at the small of my back to pull me back into him, pausing with his lips barely brushing against mine as he breathes, “Don’t I? I am a genius, after all.”

I drape my arms around his neck and tangle my hands in his hair, closing the distance to meet his mouth in a desperate fervor. When his teeth skim over my bottom lip and bite down gently, I let out a soft whimper, and he pulls me onto him so I’m straddling his lap. All the teasing from before has evaporated, replaced by a moment filled with promise.

We pull away to catch our breath and he cradles my face in his hands, peppering me with kisses, voicing his feelings in between.

“Stay.

Please stay.

With me.”

His lips have made their way to my neck now. “I’m sorry for leaving you with any room to doubt how badly I need you,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. As if he needs to make his intentions any more clear. As if each time his mouth meets mine it isn’t threatening to pull the truth straight from my lips. He kisses me until finally the words are ripping through the barrier, no longer capable of being contained.

“Spencer?” I say, still breathless as I gaze into his eyes.

“Yes?”

“I am so in love with you. Completely, hopelessly, irrevocably in love."

He responds without missing a beat, “I’m in love with you, too, Y/N. God, it astounds me how much I love you.”

I beam at him, and the way he smiles back solidifies my newfound belief that familiarity isn’t such a bad thing.

It’s intimate. It’s comforting. It’s home. And I can’t wait to be familiar with Spencer Reid forever.

Taglist: @idonotexiste @measure-in-pain @notanotherreidgirl @behindyourbarrette @reidsbookclub @unmitigatedsuperiority

fill this out to be tagged in my future works!

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

i don’t mind at all sophi! congrats on 2k 🥳

if anyone feels like entering a writing contest this one is open, and they’re always so fun, and a great way to get started writing if you need a little push ❤️

can’t wait to read the entries 🥰

✨spencersawkward’s writing contest!✨

^ this is me giving each of you an individual kiss hehe. HI! this is kinda late but i'm so so excited and grateful for all 2,000 of you! thank you so much for following me, reading my work, and giving me a chance. writing here has been so fun and i love talking to you about all things Spencer/Matthew. i’ll stop gushing but just know that i adore you 💕 NOW FOR THE STUFF YOU CAME TO SEE:

the writing contest!

i've never done one of these before so if i miss something, just ask. also, this whole format i got from @spenciebabie's contest bc i had no idea how to do it and hers was super effective so thank you, Ellie!! i hope it’s ok but lmk if not!

the writing contest is going to be centered around this prompt: "you have no idea what you're talking about."

or

you can write a sequel to any of my one-shots, or an alternate chapter for Top Shelf.

there will be two winners! both will have their fic on my masterlist, and all entries will be placed in a contest masterlist for everyone to read and enjoy.

below are some rules and more info!

- for the prompt option: as long as you have the line once in your one-shot (any character can say it), you're good. also, please make sure it's bolded so that i can find it easily when reading. you can write about Spencer or Matthew-- whichever your heart desires-- and whatever trope/plot you want, as long as it abides by my guidelines (bc i'll be posting it on here).

in that vein, anyone who wishes to enter must be 18+ bc the majority of my content is nsfw. if you're not comfortable listing your age in your bio, please reach out to me individually to let me know you're over 18. THAT SAID--

smut, fluff, and angst are all welcome!! you can do a combination or just one. the minimum word count is 500, but if it's longer, please make sure to place a "keep reading" (if you don't know how to add one of those, ask!).

- please tag your entries with the hashtag #spencersawkwardficcontest and tag me in your entry so that i can keep track of all of them!

- the last day to enter is going to be August 1st, 2021! I'll be reblogging all entries on here.

please use the following format for your one-shots:

Title

summary: (description of the one-shot)

pairing: (spencer reid/mgg x reader)

category: (smut, angst, fluff)

content warnings: (potential triggers, specific sexual content)

word count: (minimum 500)

A/N: (anything else you wanna add! if you choose the sequel option, link the one-shot here.)

if you have any questions about this at all, please feel free to message or ask me or whatever you're comfortable with! i'm super looking forward to reading your entries and posting them 🥰

best of luck! 💜