#the amount of time i spent staring at the second gif is - quite frankly - worrying

[wowitsel]

the hardest things to say: ch.1

Summary: Spencer has a crush on his barista. After weeks of conversing, he finally tells her how he feels: “I think I like you”

Series Masterlist

Word count: 1.7k

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

As a somewhat coffee fanatic, Spencer Reid frequented the coffee shop near the FBI headquarters very often. For the great coffee, but mostly for the barista that worked there. Y/n, Y/n whose last name was still undetermined. For someone whom he knew so little about, he was infatuated. It seemed to happen very quickly, but that was not out of the norm for our Dr. Reid.

When Spencer fell for someone he tended to do so very quickly, so every time Y/n did something sweet, his heart swelled. Every time she drew smiley faces next to his name on his cup or paid for someone’s drink when they didn’t have enough cash, he fell even harder.

For never exchanging any words besides ordering, Spencer had it pretty bad.

Little did he know, Y/n felt the same way about the cute boy in the shop that always had a book with him. She felt intrigued. He seemed to read ridiculously fast, always finishing a whole book whenever he came, and seemingly disappeared for weeks at a time. Plus he was always super polite to her and gave great tips. Her eyes were always on him when he was in the shop, so it also didn’t hurt that he was extremely attractive.

One fateful October evening, it was extremely busy in the shop. Why all those people were getting coffee and five o'clock in the evening, Y/n didn’t know.  But nevertheless, she didn’t mind the business. That was what she was getting paid for.

One of the many people in the shop today was Spencer, as she came to learn was his name.

Spencer stepped up to the counter to order. “Welcome to The Coffee Nest! Hey Spencer! Just want your regular?”

Spencer blushed at the fact that she knew what his order was, and nodded. “OK! Your total will be $3.97,”

The man stumbled with his wallet and pulled out three dollars with the correct amount of change for the order. He handed her the dollar bills, while she stuck her hand out like a little bowl, for the coins. His fingers brushed her skin as he handed her the coins. They both paused for a second, then Y/n quickly just put all the money in the register, continuing to do her job.

Because of the busyness of the shop, and the lack of enough employees, the shop was a mess. There were workers and drinks everywhere.

Y/n finished making Spencer’s drink, then headed over to the register to take another order, before giving him his drink.

After finishing taking the order, Y/n hurried over to the contour where Spencer’s drink resided. “Order for Spencer!”

When Spencer arrived to get his drink, she smiled at him and handed him his drink, before hurrying off, not even realizing that she had handed him the wrong drink.

When Y/n had handed Spencer “his” drink, he knew immediately that it was the wrong one. But seeing who busy the shop was, and how stressed Y/n was because of it, he decided to wait until it all calmed down a bit before asking for his current drink order.

So he sat at the table, reading his book, and watching the girl work. About fifteen minutes later, when Spencer deemed it the right time, he got up and walked over to Y/n.

After requesting his correct drink, Spencer stood there awkwardly, just drumming his fingers on the countertop.

He could faintly hear the sound of Y/n humming while she made his drink, then her footsteps as she began walking towards him again. “I’m really sorry about giving you the wrong drink”

“It’s no problem, really,” Spencer told Y/n while fidgeting with the book in his hands, drawing her attention to it.

“Oh! Is that Great Expectations? You know, I love the part where you find out that Estella is groomed to break men’s hearts. It's so good. Wait, you have read it before right? Ooh, I hope I didn’t spoil it for you...”

“Oh I've read it before, don’t worry about that. But uhh yeah. I really liked that part too. Do you like reading?”

“Yeah, I do! Uhh, so my shift ends in a couple of minutes. If you want to stay here for a bit we can sit down and talk together?”

“T-that’d be great!”

A smile appeared on Spencer’s face as he walked over to the table he was previously sat at. He watched her as she wiped down the counter, and went to take another order, as he gripped his sleeves in anticipation.

Spencer’s mind overflowed with thoughts. At the moment he sort of wished he didn’t have his brain. He was overthinking everything. This was going to be the first time he was going to have a conversation with her. With Y/n, and he was very, very nervous.

What if he said something offensive, or something weird? What if he rambled too much, or stared at her too much? The possibilities were limitless, and that suffocated Spencer.

But Spencer wasn’t going to have any more time to overthink, because Y/n was walking over to him.

Even with as nervous as Spencer was, once Y/n sat down at the table, it seemed as if all the tension that was in the air was suddenly gone.

The two of them kept up a casual conversation about books and coffee until Y/n got a text. “Oh shit. Uhhh I have to go… I totally forgot I have to go. Ummm if you want to, you can come back here tomorrow at this time, and after my shift, we can talk more?”

Y/n waited until she saw him nod in agreement, then bolted out the door, clearly in a big hurry.

Even with the abrupt ending, Spencer sat in awe of what happened. Spencer always felt that conversations were hard for him. Most of the time, the person would just be uninterested in his facts, or just nod along, and not add anything else into the conversation. But with Y/n it felt good, and it felt natural. He had never felt that way before. Feeling so comfortable talking with someone.

Spencer could tell that Y/n was actually interested in hearing everything he had to say, and it really was an amazing change of pace. It made his heart light up every time she added something to what he had said.

Even if Spencer had said something she didn't necessarily understand, she never hesitated to relate what he said to something she knew or something that had happened to her. That had never happened to Spencer before.

Although that text from a friend Y/n received may have seemed fishy from the outside, she truly did forget her plans with said friend. But that didn’t stop Y/n from feeling any less guilty about leaving.

That’s why when Spencer came back to the coffee shop the next day, his coffee order was there, already made, with a chocolate chip muffin next to it.

“It’s on the house!” Spencer heard Y/n call out to him. “I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly yesterday.”

“It’s ok. You don’t have to apologize.” Spencer said softly.

“Anyways, let's sit down huh?”

“Wait aren’t you still on shift? It’s not 5:30 yet.”

Pulling a chair out and sitting on it, Y/n replied. “Ehh it’s fine. Just don’t tell anyone”

With that sentence, Y/n winked at the boy. His face lit up like a Christmas tree. Trying to use his hands to cover his blushing face, Spencer tried to immerse himself into what Y/n was saying.

As their conversation ended, the next day would be the only motivation for Spencer. As days and days passed, Spencer only began to fall further for the girl. Through all their conversations, they got to know each other. She told him about how she was in school, and about her family, and Spencer told her about his job at the BAU, his mom, and all the traumatic things that had happened to him. To Spencer, it felt really good to tell those things to.

About a month after Spencer and Y/n’s first conversation, Spencer sat in the bullpen while the rest of the team was blabbering about what they were going to do over the weekend.

“What about you Reid? You got a hot date this weekend?” Morgan inquired.

“I actually don’t,” Spencer sassed, as the rest of the team laughed at his response.

As the team continued to talk, Spencer thought about the person he actually wanted to go on a date with. Y/n.

He thought about all their talks, and about why they weren't dating yet.

His mind drifted to Elle, and he remembered something she told him. He remembered how she made him realize that the real reason he wasn’t dating, was because he wasn’t asking anyone out.

Spencer knew what he had to do. He had to ask Y/n out. On a date…

As Spencer entered the coffee shop that evening, he was on a mission. So when Y/n plopped down in the seat next to him, he blurted out, “I think I might like you. Like, like like you.”

“Oh wow. Uhhh…” Y/n said clearly in shock until she heard Spencer’s phone go off.

“Hey, Hotch. Ok. Uh-huh. Yeah. Right now? Ok. Bye, I’ll see you soon.” Y/n heard as Spencer was on the phone.

“You have to go?”

“Yeah. unfortunately.” Spencer replied, momentarily forgetting about the huge bomb he had just thrown on the girl in front of him.

As Spencer began to pack up, and walk away, Spencer heard Y/n call out to him saying, “Hey Spencer! I like you too!”

All Spencer did was smile back at the girl, but inside, he was jumping up and down. She liked him back. He quite frankly, couldn’t believe it.

Most of Spencer’s life was spent with unrequited love. He had become so acquainted with it, that it’s almost like he forgot that it was possible for someone to actually like him back.

So, now that it was actually happening, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. But he was kind of excited to figure it out.

A little while later, once he was on the jet on the way to another case, Hotch commented to him, “You seem awfully happy.”

“I really am Hotch,” Spencer replied with a soft giggle.

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[cherry3point14]

ALONE | BUMPED HER HEAD AND BRUISED HER SOUL

DESCRIPTION: You can’t begin to believe how close you were to death, or how much you wouldn’t have cared to go. 

SERIES MASTERLIST

[Chapter One takes place before EP5 of S9. Eventual Dean x Reader. Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader, OFC (Readers Sister) Warnings: light violence I guess. Also, there’s talk of a butt for one whole line]

It might be the drinks you've been sipping for the past few hours or the fact that you haven't eaten much of the meal in front of you, but either way you wink at your little sister and mutter under your breath as the waiter walks away, "bounce a nickel off that thing, right?"

She wrinkles her nose at you but there's laughter in her eyes, "you're such a perv."

You both suddenly dissolve into fits of giggles, like you have since you were kids when forming an in-joke or planning a masterful prank. You have matching laugh lines around your eyes as you laugh, and it ends with you both falling back against the leather booth seats and waggling your eyebrows at each other. You're not sure there's a better sound in the world than you both laughing together like this.

Even though you've spent the last few days with your sister, while you visit her and her new apartment, it feels like it's been years. It feels like long enough that your heart aches for seeing her again and you want nothing more than to soak up every second. When you'd first seen her, you'd felt like something was off, but you'd ignored it just as quickly because she was there in front of you. Her eyes sparkling, her hair wet from the shower and her sweatpants as ragged and worn as they had always been.

Now you're sitting in this tiny restaurant days later and nothing had changed. You were still constantly struck by the need to greedily hoard every joke and memorize every expression. It was a weirdness she had been constantly calling you out on, but you had no explanation. You'd just stare at her all doe-eyed and tell her you'd missed her.

"So this guy…" you begin almost feigning indifference. Almost.

She rolls her shoulders like the question might roll off her back with enough effort, a habit of hers you'd forgotten, "I'm just not ready for you to meet him and give him the third degree is all."

You scoff into your glass, hiding a grin, "I am not that bad."

"Not that bad? Not that… you do remember what happened to Scott, the poor schlub who actually dared ask me to prom?" She eyes you suspiciously like you're planning a repeat performance.

You remembered well enough. You, being five years older than your dear sister, had shown up at school to pick her up the following day, found the boy in question, and then proceeded to give him a very detailed lecture that touched on feminism, respect, and your sisters right to choose her prom date. But that also included your right to choose where to bury him if she came home upset or assaulted in any way. What Sophie hadn’t understood at the time was you weren’t just her sister, you were as much her mother and father too. 

You held up your hands in mock defeat, "so I was… overprotective. I'm practically a different person now."

And the strange thing was you were different, but you couldn't explain why. All you knew is that there was an insufferable gnawing in the pit of your stomach, like an itch you couldn't quite reach. You were older and wiser, but your sister? She was just the same as she had been years ago. It should have been off-putting that she'd remained a snapshot of a personality frozen in time while you had changed with the years, except you refused to see it. Instead, you allowed yourself to be convinced her new charmed life was the same as growth. The job she always wanted, the decent sized apartment not far from work, and now the so-called perfect guy. Well, the perfect guy she wouldn't introduce you to.

You reached out your hand across the table, like so many other times this weekend, suddenly needing physical contact with her. You ran your thumb over her knuckles drawing her in for a serious moment, "but promise me, next time I'm in town? I swear I'll be nice, I just want you to be happy."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry. I can't keep him away from my best big sister for too long."

"I'm your only big sister," you reminded, acting offended by drawing your hand back and placing it over your chest.

She raised her glass to your mocking, "wouldn't have it any other way, sis."

After a little more teasing about her mystery man, asking if he was the one and making sure he was treating her right, you decided to call it quits on the evening since it could only last so long. There was no way you were going to finish the food in front of you. The thought of eating it and letting it bloat you any further made you feel sick to even consider it. Not when you could feel the alcohol in your system buzzing away and, along with your sister's presence, it all made you feel light enough to float away if no one held on to you. It was one of those perfect early summer evenings. Warm enough that you didn't need a jacket but not so humid that everything felt sticky. How you'd got this lucky to be spending an evening like this you didn't know and frankly, you didn't want to question it.

You lured over the waiter again with what you thought was a charming smile but likely looked ridiculous on account of the alcohol in your system. "Can we get the check please?" you hummed. 

"You're already paying for a hotel room instead of staying with me, at least let me buy you dinner!" She whined suddenly giving you a flashback to her as a child. All pigtails and high-pitched squeals.

"Nah uh, short stack." You teased as you waved your card at the returning waiter.

It was after signing the receipt when you stood up and reached for your bag, that you noticed the hazy quality of the street lamps you could see through the windows. They were almost blurry and not in the you've-had-too-much-to drink way. Like there was something wrong with them like they were made of the wrong stuff or…

"Move it, some of us have work tomorrow." Sophie bumped your shoulder with hers snapping you back from wherever your mind wandered to. It was just the glass distorting the light, you decided. Although you made a conscious effort not to look at the lights again when you got outside, instead slipping an arm into Sophie's and hurrying her in the direction of the waiting taxi. Like you didn't want to risk finding out something wasn't right about the evening.

In the back of the cab, you laughed a few more times and made rushed plans for the 4th of July before the car stopped outside of an impressive apartment building, "text me when you're home," you insisted as she slipped out onto the sidewalk.

She pulled a face at you as you rolled down the window, and grandly gestured behind her, "erm, it's right there."

You rolled your eyes, "you know what I mean. When you're home and the door is locked. You know, when you're inside your home dummy."

"You're such a weirdo."

"Your favorite weirdo. Love you!" You nodded to the driver that he could carry on to your destination.

"Yeah love you too. Text me when you're inside your LOCKED hotel room, freak!" she called after the car as it pulled away. 

Your lips stretched into a grin as you sunk back into yet another seat, comfier than any taxi you remember but then again this was the city, maybe things were just nicer here. You lived outside of a small town across the country so you probably couldn't compare expectations for public transportation.

The breeze from the window you'd left open whirled about you as the cab rounded corners and avenues. You couldn't help smiling to yourself, amused by the cool air whipping your hair around your face, as a child might be.

"Do you want me to close that?" the driver asked into his rear-view mirror, unable to see your face and gauge if it was bothering you.

"Nah, I'm good." And you were. Really good. Comfortable. Happy and—

Cold. Why were you so cold?

Why was everything so much darker than you remembered? Your arms were heavy above you and your wrists stung from keeping your body suspended above the floor. The toes of your boots barely able to reach the concrete below. And that's when it happened. The flood of realization that you weren't, in fact, sitting in a comfortable cab on a warm summer evening but you were surrounded by darkness and a world of monsters. Something sharp was buried in your neck and you could hear movement. The weight of stormy footsteps and muffled voices.

That's when they appeared. One of them, the offensively tall one, immediately started working on the ropes that bound you to the ceiling while the shorter one, although still taller than you, lifted your head with the crook of his finger to take note of your fluttering eyelids while he gently pulled the IV needle from your neck. They were all sharp jawlines and strong eyes the pair of them. Close enough to be the only things in focus among the blurry world that was still coming back to you.

"She's alive, must have snapped out of it when we killed the son of a bitch. We've gotta get her out of here." He commanded his friend.

Your throat felt like it was burning, like sandpaper against a stone, and you rubbed at your neck to try to ease the feeling once your arms swung free from the ceiling, "both of them?"

"What?" they snapped in unison, surprised that you were even speaking.

"You killed both of them?" you croaked again but you didn't need to wait for their answer because you could see it now. A flash in the darkness, two glowing blue eyes appeared from nowhere and began approaching the three of you bringing on waves of Déjà vu.  Flashes of the hunt, finding the place, the dead girls, and nearly killing one of them only to be caught in their trap.

But both the men in front of you were seemingly unaware of the approaching danger while they focused on your face.  

You were weaker than normal. Drained of not just your blood but a vast amount of your strength, still your reactions were no less impressive in the face of impending danger. You yanked the blood-soaked knife from the man who had cut you down and elbowed the guy in front of you before launching yourself forward with every possible ounce of energy you had left. A grunt echoed off the walls for your effort, the noise catapulting you forward as much as the adrenaline until you felt the satisfying contact. The Djinn's face frozen in shock as his meal turned into his demise.

The blade dug into his chest but burrowed deeper into his heart as you fell forward, the weight of your body landing on top of the parasite with your hands trapped between you, still wrapped around the handle of the knife. For a moment you didn't breathe. You were motionless enough laying on top of him that you might be dead. Watching his face closely with your own, waiting for any sign that you hadn't killed the bastard.

When you were finally satisfied you rolled sideways off of the now dead Djinn and gasped for air or hope, anything. Reeling in the truth that nothing had been real. Not your well-adjusted sister with her hopes and dreams or your arguably boring life as a mildly popular newspaper columnist, hidden in a cabin away from the world. No. She was still as dead as she had been before the Djinn sent you off to wonderland and you were still living a lonely and dangerous life hunting the scum you didn't even want on the bottom of your shoe.

That’s when you realized you were shaking. You'd almost allowed it. You'd been so happy to stay there watching her grow up that you ignored every red flag. There had been no fight in you, nothing tethering you to this reality full of violence and hard decisions. And now you'd been dragged back here, forced to carry on living, knowing what you could have had back there. You don't need to say it out loud to know the truth, you'd have happily died there, just like those girls before you.

But there was no time for the tears that threatened to spill over your cheeks, there was never time. You felt two pairs of strong hands lift you up as gently as possible. Gripping you and barely touching you at the same time.

"So you're a hunter?" the shorter one asked.

All you managed to grumble before the blood rushing to your head made everything dark again was, "good guess Columbo."

Continue to Chapter Two