cherrygarcia-07 - Tumblr blog

cherrygarcia-07 · 4 days ago

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hii! this is my first ever request, but i was wondering if you could write something with spencer where him and reader are hanging out or whatever and he keeps catching reader looking at him weird, and she eventually admits that the more she falls for him the more scared she gets about him leaving/them breaking up?

afraid — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: established relationship, tiny bit of angst because of reader's worries a/n: haiii !! lovely idea !!! i hope i did your first request justice <3

“Where’s the hairdryer?” you called from the bathroom as you stepped into the bedroom, tugging the oversized shirt down over your shorts.

Spencer looked up from the bed, where he’d been sitting cross-legged, a crossword puzzle half-completed in his lap. He immediately set the pen down on the nightstand and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I think I put it in the drawer over here,” he murmured, already moving toward the closet.

You smiled to yourself. He could’ve easily pointed, told you where it was but instead, he’d gotten up without hesitation. It was such a small thing, really. But it made you happy.

“Found it,” he announced, pulling out the hairdryer with a small, proud smile. Then, he looked over at you, holding it up. “Do you want help?” he asked, gesturing to your damp hair.

You tilted your head, smile soft. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” he said immediately, crossing the room again to plug it in.

You took a seat on the small chair in front of the vanity. Spencer stood behind you, fingers careful as he adjusted the settings and turned the dryer on. He began drying your hair, fingers combing through each section. You watched him in the mirror with a soft smile. You’d once told him how much you hated going to bed with even slightly wet hair. How it clung to your neck, made your pillow cold, left you restless. And now here he was, making sure that wouldn’t happen tonight.

At some point, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. You smiled at the unexpected touch, and in the mirror, you saw him smile back, like he was proud of making you smile. He continued, taking his time, fingers gentle as he brushed through the ends and dried every last bit. You stayed quiet, eyes on him the whole time. Every few minutes, your eyes would meet in the mirror and every single time, Spencer smiled at you.

He didn’t mention how he could tell something was off in your stare. How your eyes seemed distant, like they were looking at him but not really seeing him. Still, he said nothing.

Once he finished drying your hair, he clicked the dryer off and ran his fingers gently through the strands, smoothing them down, only to ruffle them playfully a moment later. “All done,” he murmured with a small smile. You were still watching him. Quiet, unreadable.

“You smell nice,” he added softly, hoping to pull a smile from you.

You blinked like you were coming out of a fog. “Oh. Yeah,” you said, trying to catch up to the conversation. “I used that vanilla shampoo I got a couple days ago.”

He nodded, but couldn’t shake the unease rising in his chest. He couldn’t decipher the expression on your face. For someone who read people for a living, the fact that you suddenly felt like a mystery made his stomach twist a little.

You watched in silence as he unplugged the hairdryer and carefully returned it to the closet. When he turned back around, you were staring blankly at the edge of his nightstand. Zoned out completely. He closed the drawer slowly. “Hey,” he said gently as he stepped closer. “You okay?”

The sound of his voice pulled your attention back. You blinked, shook your head lightly. “Yeah. I’m okay. Sorry,” you said quickly, pasting on a small smile.

He wasn’t convinced.

“Thank you,” you added, your voice softer now. You walked over to him with hesitance. Spencer got even more worried at that. You paused, then you leaned up on your toes and pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” you whispered again, barely meeting his eyes before pulling back.

He didn’t say anything. Just watched. You moved away before he could stop you, retreating to the bed and climbing under the covers like nothing had happened. You grabbed the book from your nightstand, flipping it open without looking at him.

Spencer stayed where he was, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but something was definitely wrong. Spencer stepped closer, but instead of heading to his usual side of the bed, he moved around and sat at yours. You looked up surprised. He didn’t say anything at first , just gave you a searching look before speaking.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

You hesitated, then slowly shifted your legs to make space. He sat close right beside your thighs, like he wanted to be able to see every flicker of expression on your face.

You bit your lip. There was no point in pretending with Spencer. You could lie to anyone else in the world, but not him. Without a word, he reached for the book in your hands, fingers brushing yours as he gently pulled it away. He slipped a bookmark between the pages and set it aside on the bed. With that, he gave you time to gather your words and thoughts. Then, his hand settled lightly on your thigh, his thumb moving slowly back and forth.

Finally, you mumbled. “I really like you.”

Spencer’s expression softened instantly. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and a warmth bloomed across his face, even coloring the tips of his ears.

“I really like you too,” he said, matching your tone. You’d both said I love you before, but he adjusted his words to meet yours now, sensing you needed it.

You gave him a small, grateful smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You looked down at his hand on your thigh instead, watching the movement of his thumb.

Then, you sighed. “I feel like I’m falling in love with you more and more every day,” you said, voice barely above a breath. “Every minute, even.”

Spencer studied your face, trying to follow your thoughts, to understand what part of that confession was weighing on you so heavily.

Then you added. “And it’s scary.”

He froze, just enough that his thumb paused mid-stroke. “Why is it scary?” he whispered. He was slightly worried. Worried that somehow you meant that you were insuating something bad.

You bit your lip, heart pounding in your chest. “Because I’m scared you’ll leave,” you whispered. “Or… break up with me.”

Spencer froze again, but this time, not out of uncertainty. This time, it was shock and heartbreak. “What?” he breathed, barely able to believe what he was hearing.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You just stared at his motionless hand, still resting on your thigh.

It took him a second to come back to himself. Then, slowly, Spencer moved. His fingers twitched, then gently curled around yours. “You think I would leave you?” he asked softly, eyes fixed on yours.

You hesitated, then gave the tiniest nod.

Spencer just stared, his heart breaking. He hadn’t expected this. But suddenly, it all made sense. The distant look in your eyes earlier and the pause before you kissed his cheek. He understood now. Every moment between you had only deepened your fear. Because the more of yourself you gave, the more terrified you became that he might walk away with all of it.

“I… I can’t even fathom the idea of ever leaving you,” he whispered. He reached for your hand, cradling it between both of his. Then he tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes again. “I don’t even like going to work without you,” he added with a crooked smile.

You let out a small laugh. You remembered how clingy he got every time he packed a go-bag. The extra kisses. The lingering hugs. The texts he sent between briefings just to check in.

“I need you to trust me when I tell you,” he continued, “I don’t ever — ever — plan on ending this.” His eyes held yours. You could see how much he meant it. “You’re stuck with me,” he added, voice lighter now. “Forever.”

That pulled a real smile from you. You felt strength return to your fingers, and you squeezed his hand gently. Spencer smiled back at you.

“I love you so much,” he whispered. You stared at him, still holding his hand. Spencer leaned in just a little closer, his voice firmer now. “Hey. I’m serious.” His hand reached up, brushing your hair behind your ear with all the tenderness in the world. His fingertips lingered at your cheek.

“I love you,” he said again. “I would never—” He stopped, jaw tightening slightly. He hated even saying the words leave you, as if voicing them gave them power.

But you understood. And your hand tightened around his. “Okay,” you said softly.

Spencer didn’t hesitate. He opened his arms and pulled you in, wrapping you tightly against his chest. He nuzzled his face into your shoulder. But his mind wasn't still. He couldn’t stop thinking about how you must have felt carrying that fear inside you. The idea that you’d been so afraid of him leaving, it hurt him. It didn’t make sense to him, not when he’d never been more certain of anything in his life than you.

You were holding him tightly around the waist. And after a long moment, Spencer slowly pulled back. He cupped your face in his hand, thumb brushing gently along your cheek. His eyes searched yours. “You believe me, don’t you?” he whispered.

You nodded, giving him a small, soft smile. “Yeah.”

But Spencer saw the tiny flicker of hesitation still lingering in your eyes. He bit his lip, hesitating for only a moment before the words began tumbling out of him.

“Whenever I go to work,” he said, “the only thing that keeps me going is knowing I get to come home to you.”

You blinked, startled by this confession.

“When I go to the grocery store, I always have to do two rounds because I forget what I even needed. I get too distracted thinking about what you might like. What would make you smile.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he kept going.

“I’ve gotten in trouble more times than I can count because I text you during briefings. Even when Hotch specifically said no phones. I know his rule is that you’re only allowed to be late once…” Spencer gave a small, guilty smile. “But I’ve broken it five times in the last two months. Because I can’t leave in the morning. Because I don’t want to leave you.”

Your eyes widened a little.

“I hate waking up before you, because it means I have to wait to hear your voice. Though,” he added, brushing his knuckles along your jaw with a fond smile, “I do love getting to look at you. You look so peaceful in your sleep.”

You felt your cheeks warm. But he wasn’t done.

“I hate falling asleep after you, too,” he said, quieter now. “Because it means I miss out on more time with your smile.” He paused, just for a second. “All my doctors know you. Even my dentist. I talk about you constantly. All my letters to my mom — they’re about you. All of them.”

You stared at him, lips slightly parted, stunned into silence by the flood of confessions.

“I even dream about you,” he whispered. “Whether you’re next to me in bed or not.” Then, he looked straight into your eyes and said: “All I think about is you.”

You were silent, staring at him with the widest eyes he’d ever seen. Your heart felt too big for your chest, every beat pressing against your ribs.

And Spencer wasn’t even embarrassed. He was flushed, yes, pink at the tips of his ears, but he wasn’t embarassed of how much he loved you. Your mouth was still hanging open, completely speechless, as Spencer sat in front of you, pink from head to toe. He was waiting, bracing himself for your reaction.

“Spence,” you whispered. “Oh my god…” You blinked quickly, brushing at your eyes as emotion welled up without warning. You hadn’t even realized you’d teared up until now.

Spencer’s brows furrowed softly, and his voice dropped. “Please don’t worry anymore,” he murmured. His thumb reached out to gently catch a tear before it could fall.

You let out a watery laugh, still overwhelmed. “Well, no, I won’t worry anymore,” you said, smiling through your sniffles. “You got in trouble with Hotch for me.” You giggled at the thought, imagining Spencer getting scolded for texting you during briefings or being late just to steal a few extra moments with you in the morning.

Spencer grinned, smile widening at the sound of your laughter. He would have confessed a thousand more embarrassing things just to hear it again. He brushed his thumb across your cheek once more.

“You do love me,” you said through your smile, almost breathless with disbelief, like it had just hit you all over again.

“More than anything,” he whispered. The way he spoke, the conviction in his eyes, made it impossible not to believe him, made it impossible not to feel the depth of what he was saying.

“Thank you.” You breathed, your arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape. Your body pressed close to his, and the simple act of being near him sent shivers up your spine.

He held you just as tightly. “There’s nothing to thank me for,” he whispered into your hair, his lips brushing the top of your head. You smiled as he pulled back, just enough to nuzzle your nose with his, before finally pulling away enough to look you in the eyes again.

“Believe me now?” he asked, his voice a whisper.

And this time, there wasn’t even a flicker of doubt. No hesitation. “Yes,” you said softly.

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cherrygarcia-07 · 7 days ago

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high school au spencer coming to school after a bad night with his mum/or maybe missed a day or two bc of it and reader notices somethings up and tries to comfort/distract him

comfort — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: highschool au, established relationship, no explicit mention of what happened with his mom, spencer hasn't been taking care of himself ( but reader fixes that quickly ) a/n: hai hai ! hope you like this <3

You sat alone at your usual picnic table, the one tucked beneath the oak tree at the edge of the schoolyard.

It was your spot. Well, yours and Spencer’s. But Spencer hadn’t been here in two days. No texts or calls. Just silence. You’d tried not to worry, but your mind kept circling back to worst-case scenarios. Had he gotten sick? Had something happened at home? You’d considered calling him, but the fear of overstepping held you back.

And then, just as you were picking at your half-eaten cookies, you saw him. Spencer walking through the school gates like a ghost.

Your heart leapt into your throat. He moved slowly, shoulders hunched, his eyes fixed on the pavement. Even from a distance, he looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, his usually soft brown hair tangled and unkempt. Without thinking, you stood up, almost falling in your hurry.

“Spencer!”

His head snapped up at the sound of your voice, blinking as if he hadn’t expected to see you there. A weak, almost apologetic smile tugged at his lips. “Oh. Hi.”

You didn’t give him a chance to say more, you crossed the distance between you in seconds and wrapped your arms around him. He stiffened for half a second before melting into the hug, his hands coming up to clutch the back of your jacket.

“I missed you,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

He let out a shaky breath, his fingers tightening slightly against your back. “I missed you too.”

When you pulled away, you finally got a proper look at him up close. His lips were dry, cracked at the edges, and his cardigan, the same one he’d been wearing when you last saw him, was wrinkled, as if he’d slept in it. His wrist was bare, no sign of the watch he always wore, and his backpack hung limply from one shoulder, suspiciously light. Like there were no books inside.

You didn’t press. Instead, you took his hand, threading your fingers through his. His skin was cold. “Come on,” you said softly, tugging him toward the picnic table. He followed without protest, letting you guide him down onto the bench beside you.

You nudged his shoulder with yours. “Saved your spot.”

A flicker of warmth passed over his tired features. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, well.” You grinned. “Not like I wanted to share it with anyone else.”

Spencer’s smile was small but genuine, though it faltered almost immediately. He swallowed hard, his fingers fidgeting in his lap.

“I’m sorry for—” His voice cracked. “For missing school. And not telling you.”

Guilt clung to every word, his fingers twisting together in his lap like he was trying to physically hold himself together. But you just smiled softly, nudging his knee with yours. “Hey, nothing to worry about.”

“I just—” He started, then stopped, swallowing hard. His throat worked silently, searching for words that wouldn’t come. You knew that look. Spencer Reid, who always had an answer for everything, was at a loss.

And you understood. “It’s okay, Spence,” you murmured, patting his thigh gently. “No need to explain.”

You had a vague idea of his home life, his mom and her bad days. Missing school wasn’t just unusual for Spencer; it was unthinkable. Two whole days gone meant something had been wrong. Really wrong. Your chest ached at the thought. You wished you could’ve done something, shown up at his door with food, or sat with him in his living room, or just been there. But you also knew Spencer. He wouldn’t have let you.

So instead, you helped now.

“Thank you,” he whispered, the words so quiet they almost vanished into the rustle of leaves overhead.

You smiled, reaching into your bag. “Look what I managed to get.”

Spencer blinked as you brandished the crinkling bag of chips. “Your favorite,” you declared, sliding the bag toward him.

His lips twitched, and for the first time since he’d walked through those gates, he looked almost like himself again. You tore the bag open with a dramatic flourish, holding it out.

“Take one. Or two. God knows you eat the whole packet in one sitting anyway,” you teased.

Spencer actually chuckled, enough to make your heart unclench just a little. He reached in, grabbing a chip and popping it into his mouth. Then another. And another. He was hungry. Your stomach turned. Without a word, you twisted the cap off your unopened water bottle and set it in front of him.

Spencer shook his head immediately. “No, that’s yours.”

You arched a brow, then, in your best Spencer Reid impression, recited, “Dry lips can crack, bleed, and become more susceptible to infections.”

He blinked.

“Last Tuesday,” you grinned. “Right before you made me drink my entire water bottle.”

Spencer huffed, but he took the bottle, his fingers brushing yours as he did. He drank the water slowly at first, then, as if suddenly remembering how thirsty he was, tilted the bottle back in one long, desperate gulp. When he set it down, barely a sip remained, but he still hesitated, fingers lingering on the plastic like he was embarrassed to have taken so much.

You didn’t say a word. Just pushed the bottle back toward him, shaking your head when he opened his mouth to protest.

Spencer’s throat bobbed as he drained the last of it, the empty bottle landing on the table. For a moment, he just stared at it, as if the act of drinking water was somehow overwhelming.

You swallowed hard, then mustered your courage. "Spence," you said, voice gentle, "if you don’t take care of yourself next time, I’ll stop covering for you in class."

His head snapped up, eyes wide. "You covered for me?"

The raw disbelief in his voice made your chest ache. He’d been clearly dreading the idea of facing his teachers, of stitching together some half-believable excuse.

"Yeah," you said, shrugging like it was nothing. "Told them you had the flu. It’s flu season, anyway."

Spencer stared at you, lips slightly parted. For a brilliant boy who always had the right words, he looked utterly speechless.

"You—you didn’t have to do that," he whispered finally, voice fraying at the edges.

You smiled, nudging the half-empty chip bag closer to him. "I wanted to. That’s what girlfriends are for."

Spencer’s breath hitched, just slightly, but he didn’t shy away from it. Instead, his fingers brushed yours as he reached for another chip, his touch lingering.

"Thank you," he murmured, so quiet you almost missed it. "Seriously."

You hummed, watching him eat. God, you wished you had something better, a sandwich, fruit, anything more substantial than greasy chips.

“You’re welcome,” you murmured, watching as Spencer absently crumpled the chip bag between his fingers. When he finally finished eating, you reached into your bag and handed him a disinfectant wipe. He slowly cleaned the salt from his hands.

You took a breath. “You know you can call me? Anytime you want. Around the clock.” The words came out quieter than you’d intended. But Spencer heard them. His hands stilled.

“Even if you just need to step out for a hug,” you continued, meeting his big hazel eyes. Right now, they were wide with something between disbelief and pure love, like he couldn’t quite process the fact that you were here, that you meant it.

After the chaos of the past two days, the simple kindness in your voice nearly undid him. His throat tightened. “You do give great hugs,” he admitted softly, the ghost of a smile tugging at his chapped lips.

You giggled, bumping your shoulder against his. “Hell yeah, I do.”

Spencer huffed a laugh, but then his expression turned apologetic. “No promises I’ll take you up on that.” You understood. Of course you did. Spencer wasn’t the type to ask for help, even when he was drowning in it. “But thank you either way,” he added with a soft smile.

You held his gaze, determined. “I want you to still keep it in mind, Spence.”

For a long moment, he just looked at you. The sheer adoration in his eyes then was almost too much to bear. He’d caused you so much worry. You’d risked getting in trouble for him, lied for him, never once demanded answers. His stomach wasn’t rumbling anymore. His lips didn’t sting when he spoke.

He knew he’d never take you up on it, wouldn’t drag you into the chaos waiting behind his front door, but the offer alone was a lifeline. A reminder that somewhere in this mess, he was loved and cared for.

“Okay,” he whispered finally, nodding. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

"Good," you smiled, just as the bell rang, ruining the moment. But luck was on your side; your next class was together.

Spencer stood with you, automatically reaching to help gather your things. His fingers brushed yours as he zipped your bag shut, and before you could even grab the strap, he’d slung it over his shoulder.

You bit back a grin. "Also, if Mr. Johnson asks why you just showed up at lunch," you said, falling into step beside him, "just say you had your last doctor’s appointment this morning. You’re cleared now—no more symptoms."

Spencer glanced at you, something warm and amused flickering in his tired eyes. He didn’t ask how you’d come up with the lie so quickly, didn’t question it at all. Just nodded. "Okay. I will. Thank you."

But then he stopped walking.

You turned, eyebrows raised, and he hesitated for a second, before meeting your gaze. "Can I take you up on the offer now?"

It took you a beat to realize what he meant. Then your face split into a grin. "Of course," you said, already opening your arms.

Spencer held you tightly, so tightly, one hand still clutching your bag, the other pressed between your shoulder blades.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, voice muffled against your shoulder. "I don’t really know how to thank you." You could feel his racing heartbeat where his chest pressed against yours. "But I want you to know," he continued, quieter now, "this meant so much to me."

You squeezed him tighter. "I know," you whispered back.

When you finally pulled away, Spencer’s eyes were brighter than they’d been all day. He looked at you like you’d hung the stars, like his heart was so full it might burst.

You smiled, reaching for his free hand. "Come on," you said, tugging him forward.

Spencer followed without protest, pausing only to toss the empty chip bag and water bottle into a nearby trash can. His fingers laced through yours, as you led him down the hall.

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cherrygarcia-07 · 8 days ago

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Hi!! I see the pompompurin in your header (is that what its called?) and my brain goes yippee

Do you watch sanrio shows or do you just think hes cute? Both answers are valid btw this isnt a name 5 songs type of question.

I just starting watching hello kitty and friends supercute adventures and honestly i love it so very much. My favorite of the like main cast is currently a tie between tuxedo sam, pompompurin, and cinnamaroll (big challenges is my number 1 but hes been used in any content like 2 times. Hes just so precious to me.) There's a little stop motion series with cinnamaroll on YouTube and its so cute dude. You've gotta watch it if youre into sanrio shows.

Also, which sanrio would you assign to spencer? I would say chococat maybe. He's a little journalist/reporter and engineer sometimes

hii !! i haven’t watched the shows as much as i’d like to but i’ve seen some here and there. i am a big sanrio fan though! (as im typing im literally in my sanrio pajamas under my sanrio blanket lol).

this is probably a bit more niche but i actually collect DS games and a lot of my knowledge comes from the sanrio games i have! i’m also a 2000s baby so i just always grew up with hello kitty practically in my DNA.

my absolute favourite favourites are kiki & lala and marroncream but i also have a soft spot for pompompurin (hence the header) and pochacco <33

I’ve also heard about the cinnamoroll show!! i definitely need to check it out i’d love to watch more of the shows

as for Spencer honestly i think chococat is a super cute comparison for him i think i would actually agree with you !!

#cherrygarcia talks

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cherrygarcia-07 · 8 days ago

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okay so sorry for reblogging your stories so much but I was wondering if you could do another spencer x whimsy reader where her and penelope go on a girl's day shopping and do all those fun things and spencer can't wait to get her back i think it'd be so funny maybe even a little emily cameo in there!

I love your writing thank you so much for reading this! 💗🫶🏼🥹🧸🪩🫟😊💿🎀✨️🍰

thank you sm for the req!! i kind of took it and ran i hope you don’t mind but i had so much fun writing it!

Until You Get Home // Spencer Reid🐱

synopsis: spencer catsits for you and quickly begins to miss you while you’re out at a craft market with penelope

pairing: spencer x whimsy! reader

genre: fluff!

wc: 3.6k

notes/tags: this is BY FAR my fav whimsy! reader fic so far i’m beginning to really love these two😭 ludo the cat finally makes his debut, spencer is lowkey clueless when it comes to ludo, reader absolutely loves jim henson sorry not sorry, spencer is literally so needy and attached

masterlist // if you enjoy pls reblog it helps promote the fic so much !!

————————————🐱———————————

The impatient sound of your shoes tapping echoed in the elevator as you leaned your back against the wall. The man in front of you was dressed sharp, ironed and pressed head to toe with clothes fitting so well they seemed moulded to his body. He stood straight, face unmoving as he stared ahead with his fingers wrapped tightly around a briefcase. He was a stark difference to you. From your place behind him you fidgeted with your chunky ring as it snagged in your colourful cardigan, the army of keychains on your bag jingling as you swayed on your feet. You were fighting the urge to hum under your breath, eyes darting curiously around the tiny metal box that was seemingly the slowest moving elevator in the world.

You knew you stuck out like a sore thumb in a place like this but it didn’t bother you, not anymore. You’d come to learn that it wasn’t such a bad thing, especially when it brought you the people you cherished most in the world. Finally, like some kind of old fashioned oven, the elevator dinged and opened it’s doors and you promptly skipped out like a fresh baked pastry, an aroma of joy and warmth following every step you took. Slipping your visitor’s lanyard over your neck you stepped into the bullpen you were becoming increasingly familiar with as you scanned the room for your companion for the night.

Spencer almost had a sixth sense when it came to you. You joked that you’d wormed your way into his brain like some kind of fungi, but the way his head snapped up before you’d even fully entered the room had you debating if it were actually true. He ping-ponged his head left to right like a meerkat trying to follow the scent of your fruity perfume maybe, or the familiar sound of your favourite shoes clacking on the floor, or perhaps something in him simply just detected your presence. Once he found you, his face lit up as a wide beam stretched ear to ear.

“What are you doing here?” He asked as you fluttered over to his desk.

“Oh, she’s not here for you.” A voice chirped, followed by a second set of clacking heels before Penelope was suddenly standing beside you, looping your arm through hers. “She’s my date for the evening.”

“Oh.” Spencer smiled, but it dropped slightly- you noticed.

You peeled yourself away from Penelope, perching yourself on the edge of his desk instead. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, of course.” He answered too quickly. “I was just going to ask to see you tonight, that’s all. I rented that witch movie you were talking about, I was going to stop by the bakery you like on the way home but we can totally reschedule.”

“Oh, Spence I’m sorry!” Your heart tugged at the plastered smile on his face, and you half debated cancelling your plans entirely just to smooth the faint crease between his brows.

“No, no it’s alright!” He gazed up at you. “Seriously. I’m glad you’re getting along with my team. I want you guys to hang out.”

“Are you sure?” You subtly took his hand, aware of how nosy said team could be. He nodded back at you, a slightly warmer smile on his face now. “But we’ll hang out later, okay? Hey- maybe you can keep Ludo company while I’m gone!”

He grimaced for a second before catching it and trying (failing) to compose himself. Spencer and Ludo didn’t exactly have the best relationship. Your cat was something of a diva, despite his mushy Jim Henson namesake, he knew what he wanted and he knew who to get it from- that’s why he was so friendly to you. Outsiders to the household he wasn’t so keen on, and Spencer’s awkwardness didn’t exactly help.

“Ludo doesn’t like me.” He muttered, eyes narrowing slightly like he was recalling a bad memory.

“That’s because you treat him like you’re catsitting and not like a friend.” You shrugged. “He’s very emotionally intelligent. He can tell the difference.”

Spencer hummed. “I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

“It is true! I think he was a psychic in a past life. Maybe his sixth.”

“You know, funnily enough it’s a widespread belief among many cultures that cats have spiritual energy. It’s not uncommon for people to believe they have psychic abilities.”

“See? Exactly.” You scolded, poking a finger at him.

“Well I didn’t say it was true.” He shrugged back, stifling a teasing chuckle. “I just said it was commonly believed. By people like you.”

You arched a brow at him, pulling your hand away with just a little bit of sass. “People like me?”

“Mhm.” He hummed, grabbing your hand back and pressing a light kiss to it before rising to his feet. “Quirky, eclectic, beautiful, wonderfully weird people like you. Have fun tonight.” And with that he was walking off to the kitchenette, leaving you blushing and kicking your legs like a fool while you waited for Penelope to wonder back over.

Not long after, the two of you were walking arm in arm through the narrow fairy light lit aisles of the craft market, looking like two rather radiant peas in a pod. She adjusted her pink glasses with a free hand as she ooh-ed and ahh-ed at all the stalls, pulling you this way and that as she hopped from table to table.

“Oh, this is so exciting!” She practically squealed. “I mean I’ve had my fair share of girls nights, some much drunker than others, but I can never get anyone to come with me to things like this.”

“Not even JJ?” You asked, confused. This seems like something she wouldn’t mind at all.

“Well when faced with the choice of me dragging you around a market or cuddling an adorable rosy cheeked baby cherub what would you pick?”

You hummed in agreement, although your mind wondered to how your own adorable furry baby cherub was doing at home with Spencer. At that moment something caught your attention from the corner of your eye, yelling at you from your peripheral. You stopped abruptly, your feet planting into the ground so firmly Penelope stumbled where your arms were still linked before she turned to face you with a huff. The gasp that left your lips was so dramatic she almost checked your pulse.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing, Pen?” You muttered, completely entranced. On the table on a tiny little mannequin was wearing a tiny little knitted cat collar, green and flared in a row of triangles to resemble Kermit the frog. Already images were flashing before your eyes of Ludo pottering through the apartment, the pop of green around his neck highlighting his adorable little face as he modelled.

“Oh sugar that is adorable but,” she winced, pointing gingerly at the price tag. Your smile dropped abruptly. “I mean for that price I’d expect it to come with the cat! I could probably make one for you if you wanted one that bad.”

“You would?” You turned to her wide-eyed.

“Uh, hello? You are looking at the queen of craft, of course I would.” She grinned at you as she playfully nudged your side. “Oh! Or you could ask Spencer, did you know he knits?”

A pathetic blush rose to your cheeks just from the simple mention of his name. “Yeah, I know.”You muttered, trailing off as you recalled memories of him curled up on the sofa, glasses on and hair messy as he manoeuvred half knitted blankets and scarves over his lap as the two of you watched TV together. If you were being honest it was probably one of your favourite things about him.

“He made me this scarf, you know?” You smiled like a lovesick teenager, lifting the stripy purple wool around your neck. “I told him his purple cardigan was my favourite and next thing I knew he was making this for me so we could match when we go out.”

Across from you, Penelope pressed a hand to her heart, face melting as her head tilted to the side like she just couldn’t hold it up anymore. “That should make me feel incredibly lonely and single but I love you two too much to care.”

You giggled at her, breathing out a “come on, Pen” as you took her hand, gently pulling her along to see the rest of the stalls. Shopping bags hanging from both of your wrists found themselves filled with all kinds of things: fragrant soaps carved into flowers; kitschy earrings that at first glance seemed way too big and dramatic to actually fit on your ears; yellowing vintage magazines filled with knitting and sewing patterns- and of course, as is tradition when at a craft market, a squishy hand stitched stuffed animal or two to sit at your respective desks. After what felt like no time at all you realised you’d reached the end of the market, shopping bags bulging and feet beginning to drag along the floor- you’d both quite literally shopped til you’d dropped.

You paused at the end of the last aisle, peering down at your bags with a frown, unintentionally chewing your lip in thought. Penelope’s senses were immediately tingling. Without even needing to look at you she felt your shift in energy. No friend of hers got away with being down if she had anything to say about it.

“Nuh-uh,” she shook her head, scrambling to stand in front of you, “not on my watch. What’s wrong?”

You sighed at her, forcing a small smile. “Nothing, nothing. I promise.” When she arched her perfectly plucked eyebrow at you, you knew you weren’t fooling her. “I just wanted to get Spencer something to say thank you for waiting up for me but I forgot.”

“Oh honey, you know he won’t be expecting anything.” She waved a hand at you as if trying to physically swat away the feeling.

“I know that but he rented the movie and got my snacks and everything.” You grumbled, toying with the edge of your scarf. “Not to mention he’s there right now handling Ludo by himself.”

“Ohh that’s right. He’s probably guarding his hands with oven gloves as we speak.” You turned to her with wide, worried eyes and she flapped in response. “Right. Totally not helping. I will totally zip my mouth.”

“It’s okay.” You sighed. “Did you see anything at all he might’ve liked?”

Penelope hummed thoughtfully as she scanned the room, eyeing every nook and cranny for anything the two of you could’ve missed. Her eyes narrowed, her finger tapped against her chin as she did so, until suddenly she gasped. Eyes alight, she grinned as she spun you by your shoulders to face a small, humble stand tucked between two others that you must’ve somehow stepped right by. With a painted fingernail she pointed as you followed her gaze.

“Oh, Pen.” You grinned, already heading over. “I owe you.”

She laughed smugly from behind you as she followed. “You can repay me by letting me have first dibs on being Godmother someday.”

Back at your apartment, Spencer wasn’t having such a good time. He always thought he was better with animals than people, less conversation to navigate and less complication, until he met Ludo. The two of them were always awkwardly dancing around each other, neither quite ready to make the first move. Ludo was intimidating and Spencer was, well, intimidated. Much to your amusement, of course. Your big bad FBI agent boyfriend with a gun was bested by a tiny fluffy cat.

“Hey, Ludo.” Spencer said cautiously as he closed the door behind him. He’d never tell you, but he jumped when he stepped into the apartment to find the cat sat in the middle of the hallway like a gargoyle, glaring at him with a swaying tail before their eyes even connected.

The rest of the night wasn’t going much better. Spencer tried to take your advice to treat him like a friend which had unfortunately resulting in a sharp scratch to the hand when he’d reached out to him. It was easier when you were here, Ludo was always more relaxed and tended to leave him alone in favour of nuzzling your leg or curling up in his cat tower. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialled.

“Spencer?” Emily’s voice filtered through the phone. “What’s up?”

“How do I get a cat to trust me?”He answered immediately. No greetings. No time for pleasantries. This was serious business.

He sighed as she laughed before responding. “You’re stuck with Ludo, huh?”

“Unfortunately so.”

“How’s it going so far?”

Spencer stretched out his free hand before him, eyeing the scratches. “Not good. I’ve been wounded.”

“Like a true veteran, Reid.” Emily chuckled. “Just give him his space, let him come to you. Don’t stare him down like I know you’re doing right now.”

“I’m not staring him down.” He mumbled. “I’m watching my back.”

“You’re talking about him like he’s an unsub.” She continued, her tone softening empathetically. “He’s just a cat, Reid. Stop worrying so much.”

“But he’s her cat. This is important to me.” He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a little dramatic all of a sudden. “I know it sounds ridiculous but he’s her family.”

“Hey, it’s not ridiculous at all. Sergio is my baby too after all. You’ll be fine, Spencer, I know it.”

“You really think so?”

“Trust me.” She answered warmly. “I have to go but call me if you have any more problems, okay?”

“I will, thank you Emily.” The phone beeped as he hung up, eyes still firmly on the piercing green ones staring back at him. Clearing his throat, he tried to stand straight in an attempt to appear brave. Ludo didn’t waiver. “I’m going to give you your space and we’re going to simply co-exist until your Mom gets home, how does that sound?”

Ludo meowed in response, suddenly planting his paws down in the fuzzy rug on the floor and stretching rather theatrically as if completely bored by the proposal.

“Great. I’m glad we’re in agreement.” Spencer sighed, forcing his attention away from the brown lump of fur now sauntering away from him.

He found his way to your kitchen, pulling down the Snoopy mug you always reserved for him, taking a moment to turn it over in his hands with a soft smile before pouring himself some coffee. He always loved being in your apartment. It felt like home somehow, probably because it reflected you so well. It was bright and colourful, filled top to bottom with motifs and characters that perhaps other people would say were a bit childish but to him made perfect sense. It was cluttered, yes, but in a way that matched your wonderful chaos. The kind of chaos that swept him up and left him dazed and buzzing in the best way possible.

As he sipped his coffee, he watched the string of handmade star-shaped sun catchers twirl in your kitchen window, scattering dancing hues of red and blue and purple across the counter. There was a collection of magnets on your fridge, some faded with age and sun damage, bought from thrift stores and flea markets. Some were brand new and displayed proudly in the centre, souvenirs he’d given you from his trips across the country. A string of flower shaped fairy lights draped along the tops of your cabinets which you always complained about getting trapped in the doors but would never take down. He chuckled as he spotted the foraging book left haphazardly next to your set of mushroom themed mugs, remembering how you’d brushed him off determined on identifying the species of each one by yourself. With a fond smile he began walking around slowly, taking in your apartment in a way he never had before. It was all just so amazingly, overwhelmingly you.

He stopped in front of your living room windowsill, spotting your beloved houseplant Audrey in her painted pot. She’d certainly seen better days, which was strange considering how much you doted on her. Spencer wondered if maybe she was missing you too, after all he certainly felt like he was wilting in your absence. Setting his coffee down without a second thought, he grabbed the little watering can and got to work, making sure he made small talk with her after you’d scolded him last time for not talking to her. According to you it made all the difference.

With nothing left to distract himself, Spencer threw himself down on your sofa, truthfully content to just sit and wait like a man hypnotised until you graced him with your presence again. He almost jumped out of his skin when Ludo hopped up onto the cushion beside him, emerald eyes boring into him as he froze in place. Before he could react, the cat was throwing himself onto his side, brushing the top of his head against Spencer’s leg and baring his fluffy stomach to the air. He’d read that cats only behave this way when they feel safe with their company, but that couldn’t possibly be the case, right? As if he couldn’t become anymore confused- Ludo began purring. Soft, clear, purring.

Spencer’s hand hovered in the air, unsure of whether he should pet him or whether, quite frankly, he’d be pushing his luck. Taking a deep breath he slowly lowered his hand near Ludo’s head, only slightly embarrassed by the way his heart was racing. He’d negotiated hostage situations with less anxiety. Bracing for the worst, he gently rested his fingertips atop his fuzzy head before rubbing tiny circles into his fur. His arm was tense, prepared to snatch it back in self defence at any second, except the purring got louder. Spencer almost felt the need to get up and clean out his ears, surely mistaken.

He was so absorbed in the moment he didn’t even hear the front door open behind him. He missed the sound of your heels against the wooden floor. In fact his usual sixth sense had been completely overridden by the mystery that was Ludo.

“Hey.” You whispered softly, a loving smile on your face as you watched your two favourite boys.

“Hey.” He echoed back, voice small as if any sudden movement would change everything. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you two.” Carefully, you set your bags down at the door before fishing something out of them and hiding it behind your back. As you walked towards the sofa, your eyes fell on the scratch on his hand. “He got you, huh?”

“Not as bad as usual, actually.” He answered with a small laugh as he continued scratching the cat’s head.

“Yeah, I see that.” You beamed, crouching in front of them and pulling your phone out. This was the closest they’d ever gotten and you’d be crazy not to document it- for Penelope’s sake. Proof of life, at the very least.

“I uh,” he began sheepishly as you snapped what seemed like a hundred photos. “I called Emily for advice. She told me to give him space and it would all work out.”

Your heart warmed at the thought of him caring so much about connecting with your baby that he actually reached out for help. “Well it looks like it worked wonders.”

“I missed you.” He muttered, eyes drowsy with adoration as he stared down at you. “It’s weird being here without you- around all your stuff. It’s like you’re everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It drove me crazy.”

“Oh, honey.” You chuckled, blush rising. “I missed you too. I have something for you, actually. As a thanks for waiting around for me- and for putting up with Ludo’s claws.”

His brows furrowed slightly in intrigue as he smiled softly at you. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“Shush. Close your eyes.”

He obeyed immediately, his free hand already outstretched as the corners of his lips continued to tug upwards. You finally moved your arm from behind your back and he felt what seemed to be a silky fabric being draped across his skin, your hands brushing his for just a moment before you pulled away.

“Open.”

His eyes shot open, instinctively finding you first before remembering their objective and shifting to the gift pressed into his palms. It was a tie, its shade of green oddly similar to the eyes of the sleeping cat beside him and adorned with a sea of yellow stars charmingly stitched on top. It was the perfect combination of the two of you, really. He rubbed the fabric with his thumb (as much as he could do with one hand still in Ludo’s fur) heart flooding with pure love and affection.

“Do you like it?” You asked quietly, leaning forward and resting a hand on his knee.

“It’s beautiful.” He murmured, tracing the stitches of the stars with his fingers. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course, you deserve it.” You smiled as you watched Ludo shift, nuzzling further against Spencer’s leg. “What do you say we get into our pyjamas and watch that movie now, huh?”

“I would love to.” He arched a brow as he turned to look at the ball of fur next to him. “But it looks like someone has other plans.”

“Well.” You began, squeezing into the space on Spencer’s other side and resting your head on his shoulder. “Who are we to argue with that.”

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction

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cherrygarcia-07 · 9 days ago

Note

hi athenaaaa!!!!! I love love love your writing, specially the high school au. and I think you would nail college au

maybe one where spencer is in all of his nerdy self and meets reader who's like very social and so different to him but she keeps flirting with him and he's so flustered, and idk something like that

social — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: college au, flirty!reader a/n: hai hai !! feels like i haven't posted in ages but i'm back !!! with my first college au ever <3 so, i hope you like this !! ( also, i'm very kindly asking for some hotch requests. pretty please )

“Hey, Spencer.” The familiar voice made him pause mid-step.

He turned, blinking against the sunlight, and saw you perched on one of the wooden benches. A small cat sat on the table in front of you, tail flicking lazily as you scratched behind its ears. Spencer hesitated. You two had shared a few lectures, but he couldn’t recall ever having a full conversation. Yet here you were, calling him by name like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Do you have water?” you asked as you held up an empty plastic bottle, shaking it slightly for emphasis. “I just finished mine, and now this sweet thing showed up. She looks thirsty.”

The cat meowed softly, as if agreeing, and you grinned, running a finger down its back. “Look how cute she is.”

Spencer swallowed, his grip tightening on his bag. He wasn’t afraid of cats, exactly. But animals were unpredictable, and he’d never been particularly comfortable around them. Still, you were looking at him expectantly, and he couldn’t just walk away.

“Uh, yes, I think so,” he mumbled, carefully rifling through his satchel. He pulled out a half-full water bottle, holding it out at arm’s length as if worried the cat might suddenly pounce.

You beamed, taking it from him. “Thank you—you’re a lifesaver.”

Spencer watched as you grabbed a shallow plastic container from your bag and poured some water into it. The cat immediately perked up, lapping at it eagerly, and you laughed, delighted.

“Come sit down,” you said, nodding to the spot across from you.

Spencer blinked. “I—uh, I have to head to the library.” His eyes flicked to the cat, then back to you, betraying his hesitation.

You tilted your head, studying him for a second before realization dawned. A soft smile played on your lips. “Spencer, the cat won’t hurt you.”

His heart fluttered. You’d said his name again. He wasn’t used to people noticing him.

"She might," Spencer mumbled, eyeing the cat with suspicion.

You giggled, shaking your head. "No, she won’t. Look how sweet she is." To prove your point, you gently scratched behind the cat’s ears as it drank, and the creature didn’t so much as twitch, too content to care.

Spencer’s grip on his satchel tightened, his knuckles whitening. But then you smiled, first at the cat, then at him, and something in his chest twisted. The thought of your smile fading because of him was worse than any feline threat.

So, hesitantly, he lowered himself onto the bench across from you, clutching his bag like a shield in his lap.

You watched him with amused curiosity. "Why are you heading to the library?" you asked, fingers still idly stroking the cat’s back as it lapped at the water.

Spencer tensed when the cat shifted, but you smoothly slid the water dish from the table down to the bench beside you. The cat hopped down after it, now safely out of his space.

You did that on purpose. The realization warmed him more than he expected. You’d noticed his discomfort and adjusted without making a big deal of it. He had to press his lips together to suppress a smile.

"I, uh, wanted to do some more research on the topic we discussed in class today," he admitted, fingers loosening slightly around his bag. "The librarian mentioned new books came in."

You raised an eyebrow, grinning. "More studying after you spent the entire day in class?" There was no judgment in your voice, just disbelief. "Can’t say I’m surprised."

Spencer blinked. Once again, you’d caught him off guard, not just by remembering him, but by reading him so easily. His cheeks flushed. "Well, there’s always more to learn," he mumbled, suddenly very interested in the stitching on his satchel.

"Sure is," you agreed, your smile softening. And though you were technically talking about academics, the way your gaze lingered on him made it clear, you weren’t just referring to textbooks.

"Oh, there she goes," you said with a soft laugh as the cat suddenly darted away. "Wow, she’s fast."

Spencer exhaled, subtly, but enough for his shoulders to relax now that the tiny predator was gone. But then the silence settled between you, and panic flickered in his chest. You had invited him to stay. What was he supposed to do now?

Words tumbled out before he could stop them.

"The average housecat can run twenty to twenty-five miles per hour," he said, the facts spilling out. "Some fast breeds, like the Egyptian Mau, can reach up to thirty miles per hour under optimal conditions."

You grinned, propping your chin on your hand. "Well, she definitely hit thirty just now."

The sound of your laughter did something strange to his pulse. He ducked his head, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "Twenty-six, more likely."

Another giggle. He could get used to that sound.

You gestured to the notebook open in front of you, pages scribbled with highlighted margins. "I was just going over my notes from class today."

Spencer’s eyes flicked down, then back to you and just like that, the floodgates opened again. "Today’s lecture was fascinating—" He barely took a breath for the next three minutes.

You didn’t interrupt. Just leaned forward, elbows on the table, watching him with a smile that made him stutter four times. But you waited, patient, until he finally trailed off, cheeks pink.

"Sorry," he muttered, fingers fidgeting with his satchel strap. "I didn’t mean to ramble."

"No apologies necessary," you said, grinning. "I love your answers in class." You sighed dramatically, flipping a page in your notebook. "Honestly, you could teach this course. Dr. Smith's lectures are like watching paint dry—who talks that slow? I was barely awake until you answered his question."

Spencer blinked. "Oh. I—I just find the subject matter interesting."

"Exactly!" You tapped your pen against the textbook. "You make it sound engaging. I always perk up when you start talking. You’re just…" A pause, your smile turning playful. "Pleasant to listen to."

His throat went dry. Pleasant. You’d called him pleasant.

"I—oh, uh, thank you?" Spencer stammered, fingers twitching against his satchel. Compliments were rare enough, but coming from you, someone who actually listened when he spoke, left him floundering.

You grinned, unfazed by his awkwardness. "You also explain it much better than the professor."

His cheeks burned. "That’s… really nice of you to say." Despite the flustered warmth creeping up his neck, he realized his grip on his bag had loosened. He wasn’t bracing for an escape anymore.

"You’re welcome," you said, reaching into your backpack. "I have some cookies. Want one?"

Spencer nodded eagerly. He didn't realize how hungry he was until now. "Yes, sure. Thank you. What flavor are they?"

"Chocolate," you said, handing him one.

"I love chocolate," he admitted, taking a bite. The rich sweetness melted on his tongue, and for the first time since sitting down, he felt his shoulders relax.

You smirked. "Noted."

"Hm?" Spencer paused mid-chew.

"Spencer Reid likes chocolate," you mused, tapping your chin. "Didn’t expect that."

His brow furrowed. "Why not?"

"You seem like a vanilla guy," you teased.

"No, uh—" He shook his head, but the corner of his mouth quirked up despite himself. "Definitely chocolate."

You laughed, and he found himself smiling back. A comfortable silence settled before Spencer hesitated, then asked softly, "How do you know my name?"

You blinked. "Why wouldn’t I know your name?"

His ears turned pink. "Well, we’ve only had three classes together. And, um—" He counted mentally. "Five conversations. Including this one." The second the words left his mouth, he winced. Too specific.

But you just leaned forward, eyes glinting. "Does that mean you don’t know my name?"

"No, I do!" he blurted, then froze slightly embarrassed. He'd just exposed himself. He'd just practically told you that he’d paid just as much attention to you as you had to him.

"Well, good," you grinned, tilting your head as you watched him squirm. Then, casually, like you were commenting on the weather, you added, "Besides, how could I not know the name of the cutest guy in my class?"

Spencer’s brain short-circuited.

The summer heat was nothing compared to the wildfire scorching his face. His mouth fell open, but no sound came out. just a faint, strangled noise that made you giggle, delighted by his flustered panic.

"Oh, I—I wouldn’t consider—" He ducked his head, fingers twisting the strap of his satchel.

You leaned forward, cutting him off with a wave of your hand. "Spencer Reid, you are very handsome. Take the compliment." You adjusted a loose hairclip, utterly unbothered, as if you hadn’t just shattered his entire worldview. He stared at you, wide-eyed and wordless.

"And it doesn’t help," you continued, sighing dramatically, "that you’re also the smartest person in the room." A pause. A smirk. "Dreamy."

The world tilted on its axis. Spencer was certain he'd misheard or perhaps the relentless summer heat had finally cooked his brain into hallucination. Yet there you sat, grinning at him.

Your smile only grew as you watched the gears in his brilliant mind grind to a halt. The great Spencer Reid sat utterly wordless because of you.

"I…I don't really know what to say," he finally managed, the whisper nearly lost beneath the rustling leaves overhead.

A delighted laugh bubbled from your lips. "Hand it to me to render Spencer Reid speechless."

Your fingers brushed against his as you nudged the forgotten cookie closer. "You can just say thank you, Spencer."

The contact sent a jolt through him, sudden and electric. "Oh right- yeah-" His tongue tripped over the simple words. "Th-thank you." That soft smile of yours could've powered entire cities.

In that moment, Spencer realized two earth-shattering truths:

He wanted to hear you say his name like that forever and he was in very, very deep trouble

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cherrygarcia-07 · 9 days ago

Note

hello my lovely I have a little blurb if you feel so inclined to write a wee something about it- thinking about Spencer comforting reader when he finds them crying over a sad part in their book :(

ending — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: established relationship, mention of a character dying, reader cries a/n: haiii !!! hope you like this :)

Your mouth fell open, a gasp escaping as your eyes darted across the page.

You tried to keep reading, but the words blurred. The first tear slipped down your cheek and splashed onto the page, leaving a small, dark stain on the paper.

You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe the author had actually done that.

Spencer, who had just emerged from his study, finally free from the mountain of case files he'd been buried under all afternoon, stepped into the living room with excitement. He’d been looking forward to spending time with you all day.

But the sight that met him wasn’t at all what he expected.

You were curled up on the couch, shoulders hunched and trembling slightly, your face hidden in your hands. The book was abandoned beside you.

“Hey—hey,” Spencer rushed over, voice laced with concern. “Are you okay? What happened? Did something happen?” His heart stuttered in his chest. For a moment, he thought something was seriously wrong.

You couldn’t speak. You just shook your head and pointed weakly at the book beside you.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, one hand resting gently on your knee as he leaned over to glance at the page. His eyes scanned quickly. And then he exhaled a relieved sigh, pressing his lips together.

You peeked at him through tear-blurred lashes. “Spence, it was so sad,” you whimpered, voice muffled.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, reaching up to wipe a tear from your cheek before wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you forward, and you slid off the couch just enough to bury yourself in his embrace.

“Why would she kill him off like that?” you whispered, voice cracking as you clung to his sweater. “It was so sudden. He didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Spencer held you tighter, one hand gently smoothing over your back. “That’s cruel writing,” he said softly, as if he, too, had felt the loss.

You let out a small, shaky laugh against his chest. “You haven’t even read it.”

“I know,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “Because someone banned me from reading it first. Something about me ‘spoiling the plot with my predictions.’”

You sniffled, pulling back. “You do do that.”

“Well, now I regret listening to you,” he teased gently, brushing your hair away from your face. “If I’d read it first, maybe I could’ve warned you.”

You gave him a playful little glare through your tears, but your hands never let go of his sweater. “You would’ve spoiled the ending. I know you. You wouldn’t have been able to help yourself.”

Spencer chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s fair.”

His hand moved gently over your back, until you finally began to fully pull away. He let you go, offering a soft smile the moment he caught sight of your pout. His hands lifted to cradle your face, thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked gently.

You blinked up at him, sniffling once more before replying with a dramatic little huff. “Bring him back? Have a word with the author? Maybe get this book off the market and force her to write an alternate ending?”

Spencer chuckled at your theatrical tone, clearly recognizing it as your way of coping. “Well,” he mused, “I do have a few connections in publishing. I could give it my best shot.”

That finally earned a soft giggle from you, the sound he’d been waiting to hear.

“Please do,” you mumbled. Of course, you weren’t serious. And he knew that. But he also knew that pretending, just for a second, might help take the edge off your heartbreak.

As he rose up from his knees, Spencer sat beside you on the couch, guiding you into his side. His arm wrapped securely around you and he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your temple.

“You know,” he murmured after a beat, “research suggests that our brains process fictional experiences similarly to real-life ones. The same neural pathways are activated—those linked to empathy, connection, and emotional understanding. So technically... your grief is real.”

His words were followed by another soft kiss, this one lingering on the crown of your head as his fingers traced comforting patterns over your arm.

You let out a quiet breath, still curled into him. “Explains why I feel like there’s a pit in my stomach,” you mumbled, your hands fisting gently in the fabric of his sweater.

He smiled, nodding. “Yeah.”

Silence settled over you for a moment. Then, almost too softly to hear, you spoke again. “He reminded me of you,” you whispered.

Spencer stilled slightly, pulling back just enough to glance down at you, his expression shifting. “The character?” he asked, eyes searching yours.

You nodded, barely meeting his gaze.

“Oh,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more tender.

“He was just as sweet as you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “Tall, pretty, nerdy… cute.”

As you listed off the traits on your fingers, one by one, Spencer couldn’t help the smile that bloomed across his face. You watched with fondness as a flush of pink crept up his cheeks. He ducked his head slightly, always a little bashful when he caught you looking at him like that.

He understood now. Somehow, through hundreds of pages, you had seen him in that character. You’d read your way through that thick novel, growing more attached with each chapter, reminded of him constantly, only for the character to die before the end.

His smile faded slightly, shifting into something more serious.

“Well,” he said quietly, brushing a knuckle beneath your chin to guide your gaze back to his, “I’m right here.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat returning for just a second. But you nodded, the corners of your lips twitching upward as your fingers tightened ever so slightly in the fabric of his sweater.

“I know,” you whispered.

Spencer tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb trailing down the side of your face. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, as if he needed you to hear it. “Books end. I don’t.”

Your heart fluttered. You leaned into his palm, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

“You’d better not,” you mumbled. “I’m not strong enough to go through that kind of heartbreak twice.”

Spencer gave a soft smile. “Then I guess I’ll just have to live forever. For you.”

You let out a quiet laugh, the sound muffled against his chest as you leaned into him again. “Deal.”

For a while, you just sat there, his arms around you, your heart finally starting to settle.

Eventually, he spoke again. “Maybe once the sting fades, you can tell me more about him,” Spencer murmured. “The character. What made him remind you of me.”

You smiled. “I’d like that.”

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