iknwreid

[iknwreid]

sharpest tool | s.reid

(chapter four, motion sickness)

'I hate you for what you did and I miss you like a little kid. i faked it every time but that's alright. i can hardly feel anything, i hardly feel anything at all, I have emotional motion sickness somebody roll the windows down, there are no words in the english language, i could scream to drown you out'

summary; you never had someone make you feel safe enough to open up, until spencer. now trying to cope with his sudden absence you learn to lean on your new found friendship with his coworker, penelope.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationships, ghosting, commitment issues, self doubt & overthinking, preettyy angsty idk guys, no comfort yet but there is some fluff, and theres penelope & reader friendship!! reader lowkey shit talks spencer but he deserves it. reader is embarrassed & upset. reader is lowkey really mean, but shes coping guys. i think this is my favourite chapter out of all of them.

2.3k words

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea a @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules

SERIES MASTERLIST

The lights are low, casting a soft, warm glow on the room, making it feel almost too cozy for the storm of emotions swirling inside of you. Penelope sits across from you on the other side of the coffee table, her vibrant personality seeming muted for once. She’s not wearing her usual bright colors, just a simple oversized shirt and pajama pants, the kind of clothes that scream comfort. It fits the night. It fits the conversation.

“You want to talk about it?” Penelope asks, voice gentle, but still full of that spark of energy that only she has. There’s no judgment there. Her eyes made you believe there never would be.

Your fingers tug absentmindedly at a loose thread on the hem of your sweatpants, the silence stretching between you like an invisible barrier. But it’s not an uncomfortable silence. Penelope doesn’t push. She doesn’t know you well enough to push. You’re not sure how to start, not sure how to talk about something you’re still struggling to process.

The night had consisted of making cookies, watching sickeningly sweet romance films you both gushed over — there were numerous times you had to stop your mind from drifting to Spencer, and when it did, you felt a sickening ache in your stomach. For the most part, besides those moments where the room fell quiet and your mind drifted, the night had been great.

“He just... stopped,” you whisper, voice barely audible, but Penelope catches it. Her eyes soften, and she leans forward slightly, offering silent encouragement for you to continue. "One day, Spencer was there, and the next... he wasn't. Theoretically of course..”

Spencer was different to anyone else you met, or at least he seemed that way. You thought he understood you. The way he listened, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way he made you feel like you could breathe around him. No one had ever done that for you before. But then, when things had started getting real—when you both were on the verge of making it official—he disappeared. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it was a commitment issue thing. Or if he really just had been playing with you the entire time.

“I don’t understand why,” you continue, the words tumbling out faster now, as if saying them out loud will make them make sense. “One day, we were close. He’d text me every morning. He’d ask how I was feeling, what I was doing. He made me feel… seen. Like he actually cared. And then, nothing. No calls, no messages. He just—”

“Ghosted you?” Penelope finishes for you, and the bluntness of the term hits you harder than you thought it would. You nod, feeling the sting of it all over again.

“He just disappeared,” you say, the words coming out harsh, jagged. You laugh bitterly, but there’s no humor in it. “Like I wasn’t even worth an explanation.”

Penelope’s hand reaches across the table, her fingers curling around yours in a comforting squeeze. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just lets you sit with the weight of your own pain. But her presence, her warmth, makes it feel a little less suffocating.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Spencer… he’s complicated. I don’t know why he did this to you, but I can tell you for sure, it’s not your fault. It never was.”

You close your eyes for a second, trying to swallow down the hurt, but it lingers there, a dull ache that refuses to fade. It’s not just about Spencer ghosting you; it’s about all the hope you had pinned on him. You thought he was different, thought he could be the person who made you feel safe in a way you had never felt before.

You couldn’t help the embarrassment you felt, all you had been thinking about for days was ‘how could i be so stupid.’ You had your guard up for a reason. You didn’t date for a reason, and the fact that you had let him let you forget that. You were so mad at yourself.

You missed Spencer more than you were willing to admit. Sleep evades you, and when it comes, it’s restless—haunted by the ghost of his touch. Your limbs grew weary, not from movement but from the effort of carrying the silence he left behind.

Your lips twitch into a bitter smile. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s on me. I was stupid for thinking it would be different.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Penelope says firmly, her voice suddenly fierce in a way that surprises you. “No. You were not stupid. You opened up because he made you feel like you could, and that’s on him, not you. He gave you the signals. He made the promises, and then he broke them. Spencer—he’s got his issues. He’s been through a lot, but that doesn’t excuse what he did to you. You deserved better.”

You pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as Penelope’s words sink in. It’s hard to believe that sometimes, that you deserved better. Spencer had made you feel like you could finally let your guard down, but in the end, it just made the hurt cut deeper. — Maybe thats all you’d ever deserve.

“He made me feel safe,” you admit, your voice breaking slightly. “Which i know sounds stupid— But— I don’t know.. I trusted him.”

“And then he took that away,” Penelope finishes, her voice softening again, filled with understanding. “It’s okay to be hurt. It’s okay to be angry. You opened up to him because you trusted him, and he didn’t treat that trust the way he should have.”

You nod, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay. You hadn’t wanted to cry tonight. You hadn’t wanted to break down. But being here with Penelope, his friend, his co-worker, who was so sweet and so understanding, it’s harder to keep everything bottled up.

“I just don’t get it,” you say, voice shaking. “Why would he make me feel like I mattered, like we were something, and then just leave?”

Penelope sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Spencer’s not great at dealing with his emotions,” she explains gently. “He’s always in his head, analyzing things, trying to make sense of the world. But feelings aren’t always logical. And sometimes… sometimes he runs from things he can’t control.”

You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Well, he sure ran fast.”

Penelope gives you a sad smile, squeezing your hand again. “I know it doesn’t make it easier, but sometimes people can care about you and still hurt you. It doesn’t mean what you had wasn’t real. It just means he is an idiot.”

You stare down at your hands, the weight of her words settling on your shoulders. Maybe she’s right. Maybe Spencer did care about you in his own way, but that didn’t change the fact that he left you when you needed him most. It didn’t change the fact that you were still trying to pick up the pieces of your heart while he was nowhere to be found.

“I mean, he’s so damn smart, right? So.. So smart, always figuring things out. But apparently, figuring out how to treat people isn’t part of his skill set.”

Penelope chuckles softly, though there’s no real humor in it. “Yeah, sometimes Spencer’s great at solving every problem except the ones that really matter.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” you mutter, shaking your head. The frustration still courses through your veins, and you grip the fabric of your pants tightly, trying to channel it somewhere, anywhere. “I’m not going to sit around waiting for some half-assed explanation either. If he wanted to tell me why he bailed, he would have.”

She nodded her head. “He is dumb.” She said.

A laugh passed through your lips as you nodded quickly in agreement. “How is he so smart — and sweet yet such a fucking coward? I’m so pissed that he couldn’t even end things in person — that he didn’t even say anything.” You ran your hands down your face.

Penelope smiled. Maybe you were being mean in order to deflect from the hurt in your heart and the way your brain fizzled with an overwhelming ache for the comfort of Spencer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to ask him about it?” She asked.

You were quick to shake your head. While you were desperate for an answer of what you could have possibly done — you weren’t desperate enough to go through his friends to get an answer. You refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing you cared so much. “No. No- Please don’t— Does he even know we have been talking?” Penelope was quick to shake her head with a grin.

“Nope! I haven’t said anything to him.. I sent a photo to JJ earlier of your bobble head collection, but I highly doubt she would’ve just shown Spencer?” She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders slightly. The words made you frown, yet glad. You didn’t care about Penelope sharing your silly bobble head collection, it was something you were very proud of.

“I don’t really care if he knows. Is it bad I hope he is really mad? Like I hope he is really really pissed off about it. Is that petty?” You tumbled out the questions as your mind swirled. You hoped he was mad because at least then in some way maybe you could believe he cared.

“Yes. Definitely petty.” Penelope nodded, a playful smile on her face. “But— If anyone has a right to be petty, it’s you.. You’re handing this better than I would. i’d want to egg his house.” She shrugged, the words made a string of laughter leave your lips.

“I really really do want to” You said honestly, “maybe then he would have to say something” It was silly, but it would lie to say the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. It was childish, and immature and so petty, but leaving someone with no explanation was also just as childish and immature so in your head, it evened out.

“I reckon he would start crying” Penelope giggled.

“God I hope so.” you huffed out, running your hands through your hair before a small smile made way onto your lips as you looked up at the blonde women. The last thing you expected was to get along so quickly with the girl. You had expected it to be awkward between the two of you, but it wasn’t. You two spent hours watching silly chick-flics and laughing, before this conversation even started.

“Thank you- by the way. For this” you mumbled, referring to her just being there. She didn’t have to. She didn’t know you, she didn’t owe you anything, she was Spencer’s friend, not yours.

Penelope grinned widely, “Don’t thank me. I love boy genius but he can be such a tool sometimes without even realising it. He fucked up and you need somebody, plus who else would make sugar cookies with me?” She teased.

You curled up by Penelope’s side, smiling at her gently. You really were grateful. “Speaking of sugar cookies, do you think we could frost them yet?”

[iknwreid]

sweet nothing – spencelle.

“industry disruptors and soul deconstructors and smooth-talkin' hucksters out glad-handin' each other and the voices that implore, “you should be doin' more" to you, i can admit that i'm just too soft for all of it"

wc: 1.1k | disclamers: comfort. im thinking second season spencelle. | a/n: english is not my first language, i just really love spencelle and taylor swift. this song is literally them. text divider by cafekitsune.

It was too much for her. This job was all Elle ever wanted: make her father proud, to do good, to arrest some crazy sons of bitches. But sometimes, just sometimes… It was too much. When she got home, she'd sit on her couch and stare off into the distance, her gaze lost, only her mind working, wondering if it was really worth it. It was hard to give up and it was not like her. She would never do that. Being the first female profiler in the BAU was not something to give up. And that's why she couldn’t afford to show her weakness to anyone. They would certainly misjudge her, she wouldn’t be good enough. Too soft.

Elle was soft. Tender, friendly, sweet. Sometimes a little awkward. Spencer could see that through the mask she wore. He could notice all her little details. She was too important to him, of course he would know her. Elle made Spencer feel like a whole person and not a crazy nerd with only that to show. She listened to him when he talked about anything, – “What a mind, Reid.” – even if she did not really understand, and he sat by her side when she wanted company but was not brave enough to say so. They were good for each other like no other. There were only a few words in the air, but it was just perfect for their connected minds.

Every now and then, one case would get rougher than the other, and it was inevitable not to let it affect her. Perhaps even impossible. Elle sat at her desk, Spencer in a chair beside her. They were silent for a moment, looking at the case file and writing all the horrors back into their memories. Spencer looked at her, tracing all her features and looking at her mysterious face that was glancing at what seemed to be nothing. She had recently cut her bangs. Reid found that lovely, it really suits her, he thinks. 

“Elle.” A voice they recognize echoes through the bullpen. Hotchner stands on the steps of the staircase with a serious look on his face. She stands up before answering. “Yes, Hotch?” she swivels her hips and walks towards him. Spencer watched the scene not quite so discreetly, his eyes fixed on the two familiar faces. He could see Hotchner opening his lips to say something, but he couldn’t hear what he was actually saying. He knew, however, that these words absolutely crashed Elle’s mind. She was an expressive person, and he definitely inferred the topic of conversation when her face turned into a miserable expression as her hands grabbed at her arms to hold onto something to keep herself from falling. Reid stood up without moving, but he was ready to if he had to. Not even a second later, all he saw was Elle leaving the bullpen, faster than ever before. Even faster than when they had vacations. His eyes searched for her, not wanting her to leave.

Spencer walked up to her and touched her on the shoulders as she stood in the hallway. “Hey, Elle?” His voice was soft and low, he did his best not to startle her. She turned to him, her eyes moist and an astonished expression on her face. “What happened there?” he dared to ask. She was silent, open-mouthed, as if searching for the right words.“He said I should have done more.” Greenaway said at the moment a tear welled up on her face. Spencer stared into her eyes, not knowing exactly what to say, in fact, not even knowing what he wanted to hear. “You've done more than enough, Elle.” His hands softened the touch in her shoulders, sliding down her arms and then over her hands, touching them lightly before crossing his arms. She looked down at the floor and nodded her head slightly. She was disappointed with herself. And she knew she should be doing more, but hearing that from another person was soul wrecking. Hotchner's words were like waves crashing on the shore. “No, he's right, Spencer.” 

It was natural for him to embrace her. He didn't even think about it, he just hugged her and tried to comfort her in a better way than with words. Spencer felt that words were a good way to comfort, but right now he needed the feeling that Elle was safe in his arms. The feeling that she wasn't going to leave and stay alone in her house thinking about leaving for the best of it. She didn't say in words that she had done this before, but he knew it was true. He had done it before, too. And they were so much alike that he could sense that his hunch was right. Elle didn't immediately respond to the hug, but just seconds after she felt him hugging her, she couldn’t resist the urge to feel him too. Her hands ran carefully over his upper back as she breathed in his scent, a mixture of black coffee and wood. It was so comforting, it felt like home. Not her house, but home, like going back to New York City after so many years. 

Spencer ran his hands briefly through her short hair after she released the hug; he wanted more, he felt so comfortable with her touch that he craved more. Every time he felt her close to him, he didn't care about the rest of the world, he didn't care if the end was coming or if everyone was up to something, he only cared about Elle. More than anything, he wanted her to be well. In fact, he needed her to be well. Despite that, Spencer didn't expect her to be fine. How could she? How could Elle be fine after everything that had happened?

“You're incredible, Elle. Don't let anything convince you otherwise.” He said, looking into her eyes again. It was a mesmerizing sight, Elle’s eyes. “Please.” Reid added with an almost stupid face, he liked her so much it was painful.

Elle didn't say anything, she just hugged him again because she wanted that feeling once more. Spencer never wanted nothing from her. It was a strange feeling when someone didn't always want 100% from you. All those things he said, not only today, but everytime she needed, – sometimes even when she didn't need it – Elle had never felt so loved. She trusted him so much. Every time she felt insane, Reid’s voice was in her head, whispering sweet nothings to her.

“I think I'm just too soft for all of this.” She said, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. He could feel her warm breath on his skin. Spencer pressed her against his body and sighed as he lightly stroked her back.

Spencer wanted to tell her how much he liked her, how much he loved her, despite what anyone said to her, being soft in this job wasn’t a flaw, it was actually a virtue. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to. She knew it, Elle knew it. It was their sweet nothings.

[iknwreid]

sharpest tool | s.reid

(chapter three, full machine)

‘I'm a forest fire, you're the kerosene. I had a life here before you, but now it's burnin'. I know I know better and you're ignorin' me, still, if you asked me to run away, i'd go easily’

summary; you know you have a bad history with relationships, so to try not to get in your own head when you stop hearing from spencer.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationships, ghosting, commitment issues, self doubt & overthinking, preettyy angsty idk guys, no comfort yet but there is some fluff, and theres penelope & reader friendship!! reader lowkey shit talks spencer but he deserves it. reader is embarrassed & upset.

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules

2.1k words.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since you had last seen Spencer. You understood the demands of his job, that it kept him busy and a lot of the time you were fine with that — you enjoyed your space and your own personal time. You had never had an issue with him being gone on cases before but he would always text you or call you when he got the chance.

And never had he been on a case for two weeks. Not that you knew of anyways.

It was difficult not to jump to conclusions and ruin the idea of him you had. It was difficult not to shut down. It was difficult to not think ‘how could you be so stupid’ and you were trying really really hard to not repeat past mistakes and project past relationships onto this one.

But it wasn’t even a relationship.

It wasn’t like he had talked to you at all. The first two days after he left for his case he had sent you numerous texts, telling you how sorry he was for having to leave early, he called you on the first night and stayed on the phone until you had fallen asleep. Everything was normal. There was nothing that set off any warning bells in your head.

That made you feel even worse.

You hadn’t spammed him with texts, nor calls. You hadn’t messaged him since the last text you sent was left on delivered. You wouldn’t beg for him to reply to you, you wouldn’t beg for an explanation on what you might’ve done wrong. You’d rather live with the lack of closure than further damage to your pride.

But then there was a part of you that wondered if maybe something happened to him, a big part of you worried that something happened to him — actually. You tried to ignore the lingering dwindle of anxiety in your stomach as you carried on with your day to day life. You tried so hard to ignore it.

But two weeks was a long time to ignore an aching gut feeling, one that kept you up at night and never seemed to go away.

Could you have called Spencer? Yes. You could’ve. But did you want to risk the call being ignored and every lingering doubt in your mind being proven correct and then be embarrassed about it? God no.

You were a shame spiral when you instead texted Penelope, who had given you her number when she saw you and Spencer at the grocery store, the last time you had seen him. She begged you to reach out when she got back so you two could arrange to hang out.

You weren’t even sure if they were back. Normally you would know that by Spencer coming over to your house at some ridiculous time and delving into your arms like it was the only place he had ever been able to call home, but he didn’t come over this time.

It was a simple text, ‘Hey Penelope, how are you? I haven’t heard from Spencer in a while so i just wanted to make sure he was okay’

It was good enough. You didn’t want to explain how you just wanted to make sure he was alive so you didn’t feel guilty for hating him. You didn’t exactly want to hate somebody who was dead. Yet a twisted part of you hoped that something had happened to him, because at least then he wasn’t just ignoring you.

What you weren’t expecting was your phone to light up with an incoming call from the one and only Penelope Garcia. You answered it, partly scared that she was calling because texting you to tell you that Spencer was dead seemed insensitive.

“Hello?” You answered. The place in your bed warm from the weight of your body as you shuffled slightly. It wasn’t exactly late, but it was past evening times. You heard mumbling and shuffling on the other side of the phone, before a happy voice.

“Hello my sweet angel!” Penelope greeted you, even in your doubtful mood the warm greeting from the sweet women made a smile line your lips. “I got your message — I’m a little confused. He is fine, he just left work” She answered.

Okay. Not dead.

“Oh” It passed through your lips because now you were just overwhelming confused. “Uh- How long have you guys been back?” You asked, almost afraid of the answer you would receive. You were hoping she would tell you they had only just gotten back, and that the case had been so busy that nobody had time to text anybody.

“A little over a week.” She answered. That made your chest tighten, a lot. Almost painfully. You didn’t want to cry, you didn’t want to give the situation the satisfaction of your tears. You didn’t want to give Spencer any more power over you.

“Right. Okay. Thanks.” It came out shakier than you intended it to be and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. You took pride in your ability to not care about things like this, you didn’t get emotionally involved because of this reason. Your mind was overwhelmed with an abundance of doubts and self depreciation. Embarrassment. You were so embarrassedz

“Did Spencer not tell you? He has been stroppy all week. We thought maybe he had messed up and you were mad at him.” The words came out as a playful joke, but you found it humourless. Because although you weren’t mad at him, you were now.

You wondered if you even had a right to be mad. Clearly he wasn’t dead, so he was just ignoring you. You hated how much that thought made your heart hurt an overwhelming amount. You hated how you had now let someone in enough for their absence to have an effect on you.

“He.. No. He hasn’t told me” You mumbled out, your voice representing how distant your mind was from this conversation. A million different thoughts and each one as bad as the last. You didn’t want to tell his co-worker and one of his friends that he had just up and ghosted you, you didn’t think it was fair, but you could basically hear the confusion and concern lacing her voice. “He hasn’t talked to me at all in over a week..”

“What?” Her response came out hard and fast, tone laced with clear shock and confusion. “Thats- I mean it was a rough case but.. not.. that rough — Maybe he is just overwhelmed? Have you tried calling him? He can get distracted easily.” She rambled, trying just as hard as you were to find a valid explanation for his sudden disappearance.

But you both knew Spencer. Or you thought you did. You knew enough to know about his memory. He didn’t just forget. Or maybe he did. Were you forgettable for him? Were you something so minority important that it slipped through the tight grasp of his memory. Oh that wasn’t a fun thought.

“No- uhm.. I’m not going to call him.. If he wants to talk to me he would.” You muttered. You wanted to believe that, you wanted to not care as much as you were making it out to seem you didn’t. You wanted to feel casually about it. About him.

You really regretted kissing him two months ago.

You wished you could be the type of person who believed that was no point dwelling, the type of person who would be grateful it happened rather than sad it was over — but you just weren’t. You didn’t think you were capable of getting over someone unless you hated them with every fibre of your being. Unless they hurt you to the point of no forgiveness. You couldn’t be glad it happened — not when it ended like this.

It always ended like this, you knew that from the start.

“Im so sorry. I have no idea whats going on with him!” She apologised in his behalf and it was almost funny to you. How come a girl you met once seemed to have more remorse than the guy you had (stupidly) falling in love with.

You shook your head, but she couldn’t see you. “Don’t apologise. Its fine. Its not a big deal really. We weren’t much of anything anyways.” Maybe the words came out fast enough for you to believe them, maybe they were to try and convince yourself that it was true — that it was how you felt.

It seemed it was how he felt.

“Oh sweetheart” Penelope synthesised. “How about this — We can have a massive movie night at mine sometime over the weekend and if you haven’t heard from him by then, then we can talk about how bad his eyesight is and the amount of sugar he puts in his coffee” She mumbled.

You let out a laugh, you wished that his bad eyesight and way too much sugar was the worst you could say about him right now. Your opinions on the boy seemed a lot stronger. Although it made your heart ache that it was his friend apologising and making you feel better.

“I’d like that.” You said, pulling your knees closer to your chest as your curled in on yourself in your bed. You hated how cold and empty it felt without his presence by your side. Even with the same glow of your fairy lights, the room was lit with the same warmth when it was just you.

You were mad. If you could only use one emotion to describe how you felt it would be mad. Embarrassment, disappointment, hurt — they’d all be thrown out the window. You were just so mad.

At him, for making you believe that maybe things would be different, for letting you get close to him, allowing you to trust him, open up to him. You were mad at him for giving and taking like it was some sort of game. You were mad at his lack of communication. You were mad at how he once looked at you like you held so much value only to leave as if you were worthless.

But you were more mad at yourself. You had made it a rule not to date. You had a life, a good happy life before. You busied yourself with work and going to the library to read and get a moment of peace beneath the shelves of books, you enjoyed getting your coffee’s from the small cafe on the corner in the morning, and dancing with your small group of friends at the club on the weekends, and then Spencer came along and now all those things you enjoyed so much seemed dimmer without knowing you’d see him at the end of the day.

You were frustrated because you knew better than to let someone get close to you. You knew how codependent you became on the existence of another by your side. You knew this. You knew all of this. You knew you were cursed, unloveable if you really wanted to hurt your own feelings. You knew this.

Yet you let yourself get sucked into his sweet words and empty promises, his soft touch and warm embrace. You let yourself believe that things might be different this time.

And god were you mad about that.

But most of all, you were mad about the fact that despite all of this. All of the doubt and anger swirling through your veins and leaving every harsh breath that existed your lips, you didn’t hate him. You were mad at him — so mad, but there wasn’t a single part of you that would ever say you hated Spencer Reid.

Not optionally. If it was up to you, you would go back in time and you wouldn’t have let him get close enough for the line to be between love and hate.

You worried, still. About if he was okay, what he was doing. You hated that. You hated that he had made you soft.

You hated that you let him make you soft.

You hated that you still wanted him to reach out to you, apologise and say he had just been so busy, or say he just needed time after the case. You hated that if he showed up on your door step right now you’d probably let him in without a word — whereas if this was prior to six months ago you would’ve slammed the door in his face and told him to get fucked.

Love didn’t come easy for you. But loving Spencer was the easiest thing you have ever done. Hating him was near impossible.

[iknwreid]

you will always make me blush and giggle like a little girl reading a magazine about a boy band. i think this is the way i could describe how u make me feel, how ur writing make me feel!!! it's so nice, soft, beautiful. i feel myself in her just by the way you write her feelings, her thoughts, it's almost like u can truly do a person, she wants him but she don't, she's too hurt by the past to allow herself and u show that so beautifully. ALSO spencer is so nice in this,

He shook his head as he leant away, not before pressing his lips against your forehead. “We can get both. We can get whatever you want.” He said, looking down at you as he continued to run his hand gently up and down your back.

i just know he will get hurt he clearly wants this relationship so bad, and i truly love the way u do spencer. i feel it's very him and I can picture him in everything, i don't feel awkward reading, not even once I thought "oh spencer wouldn't say or do that" and that's hard to do sometimes.

im so sorry for the long commentary but im just LOVING this so much, bee!!! love u writing!!!

sharpest tool | s. reid

(chapter two, feels like)

‘I would do whatever you wanted we don't have to leave the apartment, met you at the right time,this is what it feels like. Livin' in a movie I've watched and funny 'cause I couldn't have called it, met you at the right time, this is what it feels like’

summary; the more time you spend with spencer the more you find yourself opening up even if its to the littlest things, you let him know you, and he loves it.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationship history, reader is closed off, avoidant!reader, lowkey a friends w benefits situation but its so much more, reader is lowkey so real; fluff, 18+ suggestive content. it is not the date i said id publish this, i was peer pressured (by my multiple personalities)

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee e @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15

2.6k words.

SERIES MASTERLIST

You weren't sure how long you had been at Spencer's apartment for, if someone told you had been there for hours you probably wouldn't believe them. You didn't completely understand why but everytime he was around it was like time slowed, yet it seemed to only go so much faster. Hours with him felt like minutes. It was like you and him existed in your own little bubble away from the rest of the world, you loved that.

Everything with him seemed calm. Maybe it was his way of making you see the positive in a bad situation, or maybe it was how carefully and gentle he handed when your emotions got a little too much for you to bury away like normal, maybe it was how gentle and warm his hands felt against your skin, grounding you when you got a little too in your head about something, or maybe it was the way he would ramble off facts to distract you.

You weren't sure. You didn't know how someone could be so calm, all the time. Then you would connect it back to what he did for work. It was technically his job to remain calm in stressful or overwhelming situations. You wondered if that was why he handled you with so much care, as if you were a valuable he was afraid would break. Its not like he walked on egg shells around you, it was just that he saw you with so much value, he treated you so delicately.

Maybe thats why you had lost track of time.

You were perched up on his lap, your knees placed on either side of his thighs, straddling him. One of his hands was tangled beneath the softness of your hair, cupping the back of your head as his fingers curled against your scalp, while the other was wrapped around your waist, pressed against the small of you back. Hold you aganist him as his lips tangled with yours.

Your hands were cupping his jaw, every now and again your fingertip would trace the sharpness of his jawline and he would shiver and press you closer against him. He kissed you like he needed it to breath, you could feel the air leaving his nose against the skin of your cheek every now and again.

You felt lightheaded, in the best way possible. Whether it was from the very minimal amount of air you had been able to breathe in since he started kissing you, or if it was simply from the feeling of his lips against yours.

The air around you smelt sweet and full of him. Maybe thats why you loved being at his apartment, because everything there was so.. Him. The way it was organised and decorated, the smell of him that hid in the air between the walls, the colours of the cushions on his couch, it was all so him.

You pulled away from the kiss briefly as a thought crossed your mind, there was almost a shaky gasp for air, now that you were able to properly breath. He smiled lazily as he leant his head back against the couch, watching you. Probably admiring the flush of your cheeks, and the swell of your lips.

"Are you okay?" He asked, a smile still on his face yet his eyebrows were pinched in concern. Spencer's hand untanging from your hair, both of his hands moving to settle on your hips, his thumbs nudged up the hem of your t-shirt and slipped underneath them to rub gentle circles against the skin on your sides, his eyes never leaving yours.

You nodded, your hands dropping from his face to rest against his shoulders. You weren't sure if you were blushing, but you defintely felt like you were. You couldn't remember the last time a guy had this sort of an effect on you.

You looked down sheepishly, your hands gently brushing over the fabric of his t-shirt. "Im- Im just thinking about sugar cookies." You huffed out. Was it silly? Yes. But there was something about Spencer that made it feel so safe to say those silly things too, without judgement. Your eyes lifted to meet his, seeing the concern on his face was replaced with amusement.

He raised his eyebrow, a smile on his lips. "Kissing me makes you think about sugar cookies?" He asked, your eyes widened slightly at his tease, you instantly shook your head lips parting as you let out a huffy breath.

"No!" It came out high pitched and defensive and made Spencer burst into laughter. If you weren't blushing before you were now. You didn't know if you love or hated the fact that Spencer could make you feel so soft, so small, so loved. You partly hated the fact that he had that sort of power, yet if you were going to trust anyone with that sort of control over you, it would be him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he buried his face into your neck. Your arms wrapped around his neck, moving up to run gently through the back of his hair as he pressed soft kisses against your neck. The sensation causing you to instinctively tilt your head to the side to allow him more access to the space.

"We can go get sugar cookies" He mumbled gently, against the skin of your neck, pressing another kiss there before he pulled back, looking up at you. “If you want sugar cookies we can go get some”

You smiled at him, tilting your head a little. “I didn’t say I wanted them. I just said i was thinking about them” You quipped back. You did want sugar cookies, but did you want to leave the warmth of Spencer’s apartment to get them? No. Did you want to have to make him go out of his way just to get you sugar cookies? Also no.

“But you do” He replied, raising his eyebrow in amusement. Maybe he knew you better than you thought. “You wouldn’t have mentioned it unless you wanted them.” He replied in a slight - matter of factually way, as if he was proving you wrong.

You huffed, “We don’t have to go to the shops just to get sugar cookies. I can get some on my way home later.” You mumbled, knowing your house was technically in the other direction to the closest shops. You also didn’t entirely want to think about having to go home yet, you didn’t have to, not for a few hours more.

He sighed dramatically as he raised his eyebrow, a smile of amusement on his lips. “What sort of almost- boyfriend would I be if I let you stay here craving sugar cookies?” He teased, you smiled.

The title he had given himself didn’t offend you in the slightest. Instead it made your heart warm slightly and your cheeks flush. You sighed dramatically like he had moments ago, pretending to think about it for a moment, before shrugging.

“A horrible- horrible one.” You answered, a smile on your lips, giving in — because you were really craving the sweet treat. He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head before he pressed his lips gently against the top of your forehead.

“Well we can’t have that. I’m trying to win your heart here.” He mumbled, voice full of fondness while he teased, as you moved off his lap. You let out a hum of agreement, as you got off the couch, he followed behind you, standing up and reaching to hold your hips as you walked towards the front door.

If you weren’t so focused on the task at hand (getting sugar cookies and clenching your craving) you might’ve admitted he didn’t have to try to win your heart. You were pretty sure it had his name written over it months ago.

“I didn’t know there were so many different types of sugar cookies” Spencer mumbled as he looked over the multiple different brands and flavours of cookies placed neatly over the grocery store shelf, his arms we’re wrapped tightly around your waist, his chin placed on you shoulder as you tried to decide which ones you wanted.

You let out a hearty laugh, “They don’t have any normal ones” You half pouted as you looked over the shelves, unable to find the ones you were specifically craving. You leant back slightly to further press your back against Spencer’s chest.

“What defines normal sugar cookies?” Spencer asked, tone laced with confusion. Clearly he wasn’t a sugar cookie fanatic. Your head turned slightly to face him, the awkward position causing a slight ache in your neck but it was worth it at the sight of his eyebrows pushed together in confusion as he looked over the variety of packaged cookies.

“The.. normal ones?” You shrugged, he let out a chuckle as he placed a gentle kiss against your clothed shoulder. You weren’t sure how you could better describe the cookies. You didn’t want the chocolate ones, or the strawberry ones, or the matcha ones which looked cool — but unappealing, you just wanted the normal authentic ones.

“Oh yeah— My bad. I should’ve known that” He huffed out half sarcastically, the other half of his tone was full of fondness. As he pulled away from your shoulder, turning you slightly in his arms so he could look at your face, there was a playful smile on his lips.

“Well- no! i meant- Like the normal ones” You weren’t helping your case, or him understanding. He just mhm’d and nodded unconvincingly, the playful smile remaining on his lips. He was teasing you.

You huffed out, “I hate you” you muttered, pushing yourself away from his arms to further prove the statement you both knew was a lie. He apologised quickly and reached out for you, holding you close in place, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing you close against his chest as he hugged you.

“You are so mean to me”

It came out mumbled against the fabric of his shirt, and caused a laugh to pass through his lips. “Im sorry. Let’s go find somewhere with the cookies you want.” He said, his hand rubbing up and down over your back.

“We can just get one of these.” You mumbled. He had already gone out of his way to take you to get sugar cookies and the last thing you wanted to do was make him go someplace else just because they didn’t have the specific ones you wanted.

He shook his head as he leant away, not before pressing his lips against your forehead. “We can get both. We can get whatever you want.” He said, looking down at you as he continued to run his hand gently up and down your back.

Every expectation you once had of a relationship was squashed by Spencer’s existence. Any standard you had in your mind he surpassed with flying colours, he was better than any guy you could make up in your head.

Every broken piece of you seemed put back together at the gentleness of his hands, the warmth of his body, the sweetness in his words, or the feeling of his lips against your skin. It was weird, feeling so secure in something so unofficial.

You opened your mouth to reply but you were cut off by the sound of Spencer’s name being called. You watched his eyebrows furrow in recognition of the female voice before his head turned slightly, towards the direction the sound came from.

You followed his gaze, seeing a blonde girl walking towards the two of you. Her arms were stacked full of items, rather than getting a basket or a cart for any of it. She was wearing a bright pink dress with designs over it. Her smile was infectious.

Spencer looked back at you for a second, his arms dropping from your waist, you would’ve felt the pang in your heart if his hand didn’t instantly reach out to interlace with your own. “Garcia, Hi.” He smiled, almost nervously.

You stood silently as the blonde woman looked between the two of you, a wide smile on her face as a gasp left her lips. “Oh my gosh! Who’s this? Is this your girlfriend? The secret message sender?” She rambled out excitedly.

You watched with a warm smile as Spencer’s cheeks tinted red. You only assumed you had developed that nickname because you had texted Spencer while he was working a few times.

“Uh- Shes.. Yeah- uh.” Spencer spluttered over his words, he didn’t know what to address you as and you understood why. Although he called himself your almost- boyfriend a number of times, telling his friend you were his almost - girlfriend wasn’t quite the same. The situation you were in didn’t quite have a title. Him not denying you were something to him, was enough for you.

You saved him the embarrassment and smiled at the woman, offering her your hand with a warm smile as you introduced yourself. She almost squealed in excitement, instantly shaking your hand enthusiastically.

“I’m Penelope! I work with boy genius here— Oh my gosh. Do you know he basically dies every time you text him. I mean I have never seen him smile so—“

“Thats- enough. I think she gets it” Spencer cut Penelope off, his cheeks now bright red and his voice was laced with embarrassment. It only made your smile widen because of the way it further proved what she was saying. The idea of Spencer simply smiling at your messages while he was away made your heart warm.

“Theres no normal sugar cookies.” You mumbled out, not really knowing what to say. You wanted to slap yourself in the face afterwards. Then Penelope looked over the shelves and a pout formed on her lips.

“What! Thats the whole reason I came here!!” She frowned dramatically as she looked over the shelves and any embarrassment you had felt washed away because she was so sweet. You had heard about the people Spencer had worked with before, he never failed to tell you the silly stories or conversations that were shared between his team.

“Us too.” Spencer smiled, squeezing your hand gently. You relished in the silent reassurance he offered. Then his phone started to ring, causing a slightly annoyed huff to leave his lips as he pulled it away from his pockets, his other hand staying interlocked with yours.

Your eyes stayed on him as he answered the call, you listened to him mumble a few words of agreement before the call ended just as quickly, before he could ever say anything, Penelope’s phone started to ring. She struggled to pull it out over the amount of items in her arms, but successfully did before you could offer to help.

“We have a case” Spencer mumbled gently to you, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand. You looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of disappointment and understanding. He looked just as disappointed, if not more. “Thats okay.” You said gently, Penelope seemed to be finding out the same news.

“I’m sorry” Spencer apologised as he broke his hands holding with yours to wrap his arms around your shoulders, you melted into the hug as your arms threaded around his torso. Breathing him in.

“It’s okay. It’s your job.” You reassured him.

His arms held you tighter for moment before he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head and then another. “I’ll take you home first, pick whichever sugar cookies you want from here and I promise when I get back I will return with normal sugar cookies” He said gently into your hair.

“Pinky promise?” You asked, he let out a warm laugh, kissing the top of your head against your hair again.

“Pinky promise.” He confirmed.

[iknwreid]

i need chip taylor worshipping me :/

cw smoking (pls don’t smoke !! )

mm i think i want him too ;)

[iknwreid]

im a gemini but i get it

do this quiz and I’ll diagnose u with a mental illness <3

[iknwreid]

i think i need a sin to win weekend just like emily

[iknwreid]

he’s sooo silly :(

[iknwreid]

i can't describe how much i like spencelle guys

started to watch criminal minds not too long ago and became obsessed with this pair so i had to make an edit <33

i hope you like it!! i also posted this on tiktok where i have the same @ if you wanna go like and follow there :))

[iknwreid]

today i did basic hot girl stuff watched criminal minds baked a cake and dyed my hair

[iknwreid]

pumpkin – spencer reid x reader.

spencer loves autumn and halloween so much, and you and him are always togheter, this time for a pumpkin carving.

wc: 2.5k | disclamers: fluff, realy fluffly. bau!reader. no use of y/n. | a/n: english is not my first language, also, this is my very first time writing a fic in english, lmk if theres anything i can improve. glasses reid is my favorite. text divider by cafekitsune.

Reid and you were more than work colleagues, you were friends. You were always talking to each other, even outside of work, using your free time for friendly dates, going to cafés, museums and anything else you'd like to do on your own but didn't dare, because leaving the house alone had been a bit of a problem since high school. And deep down you knew it was a problem for him too, not a problem but probably an inconvenience. Going out alone was always awkward for everyone, the feeling of people looking at you and wondering what they were thinking – Not that it really matters what people think, but social anxiety is a real thing.

So you and Spencer were always together, your teammates already had jokes ready when you left the bullpen together, with Morgan and Prentiss always being the first to say something they found hilarious. “Going away together again? Soon you will be living together too.” Morgan’s voice echoed through the office in a joking tone. Spencer looked at him with an annoyed face. “Yes, Derek, but better than living with you, tho.” You replied, also jokingly. The dynamic between the two of you was sibling-like and you were constantly annoyed with each other. 

“We're going to the fair to buy a pumpkin to carve.” Spencer said, packing up his things. “Halloween season is starting!” Reid loved Halloween, everyone knew that, and you loved it too, not as much as he did, but his excitement and anticipation infected you too this year. 

The Halloween season had not started yet, it was only the middle of September, but for him it was Halloween season when fall came and the pumpkins were sold. You could not count how many ghost stories Reid knew by heart that he told you over and over again. You did not really mind all the excitement, but you knew it could be overwhelming for the others. In fact, you loved his excitement at this time of year, loved watching the movies on his list even if you had already seen them all last year, loved the pumpkin-flavored things he bought, and loved the smile on his face when he saw a pile of leaves in the street. 

If you looked out of the window, you could see that the trees were beginning to look autumnal. The hot summer air had already faded away, welcoming the cold breeze and the orange paisaje he liked so much. It was nice to have fall again, to not feel hot all the time and to not see Hotch’s disapproving face when you broke the dress code a little just because it was too hot for all the formal wear. 

When your thoughts were interrupted by Spencer’s touch on your shoulder, you turned your head towards him and smiled a little. “Are you ready?” he asked with his typical face, but it was impossible not to see his excitement. “Yes, yes… Sorry. I've been thinking too much.” It was normal for you to get tangled up in your thoughts, you loved thinking to yourself. “I love this time of year.” I love seeing you like this, you meant. 

You grabbed your purse and coat and began to walk with him to the elevators. He was silent for a moment, then you smiled as he began to speak. “Did you know that the fall season used to have a completely different name? In the 12th and 13th centuries, autumn was known as ‘haerfest' in England -" You beamed at his words, because every time you walked towards the elevators, he regaled you with another fact that he had probably read one day years ago. “One of the reasons it has that name is because the full moon closest to the fall equinox is called the Harvest Moon. The other reason was that harvest time was also a time when farmers could finally reap the fruits of their sowing, resulting in an abundance of produce.” 

“Have you noticed that you tell me a different fact every time we walk this way?” You say, looking at him after pressing the elevator button.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to–"

“No! That's not what I meant, Spence. I just think it's really nice that you always have something on the tip of your tongue. It's pretty impressive.”

Spencer's rambling never bothered you, it was so nice to hear him talk about anything, anything at all really. His voice echoed in your head every time, and you remembered the random things he said when you didn't have important things to do– sometimes when you did have important things to do. The truth was, you thought about Spencer a lot more often than you should. Probably way more than he thought of you.

“Well, I'm glad you like it then.” He said after wetting his mouth with his tongue. It was a habit, maybe a tic, but you always saw Spencer doing it. Adorable. “I have a feeling that saying facts to you is almost unconscious. It's just nice to share.”

You laughed a little, then the elevators came. You got in as usual, waited a second for Spencer, then pressed the button to the floor. Spencer practically never pressed the button, he thought there were too many people pressing and he didn't know how clean their hands were beforehand. Since he had told you that, you had a small bottle of hand sanitizer in your purse, and even before you took the bottle out of your purse, Spencer’s hand was already extended in your direction, waiting for you to put some in his hand. And you did, as always. You and he had everyday rituals that no one knew, that no one could interfere with. Just you and Spencer doing silly little things together. Like going pumpkin hunting to make incredible Halloween decorations, even though it's not even October yet.

You loved his companion, the world felt lighter every time you were together. And as always, the elevator ride was quiet, the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. And Spencer understood you and vice versa. Rambling on your walk, being silent in the elevator after your hand sanitizing ritual. It was better than all the silly little jokes Morgan or Prentiss made. And you knew that and hoped Spencer knew that too.

“I don't think I tell you often enough how much I enjoy being with you.” You commented after you exited the elevator and looked at him.

“Well, you don't have to.” He explained, turning his eyes away from you. “I think I know. In fact, I like to think you're enjoying it as much as I am.” His tone was calm and flustered. You giggled and touched his arm briefly. “I guess I do, Spence.”

The walk to the fair was so nice, the laughter and the conversations and the short break to buy coffee. You would stop every time you could at the tiny coffee shop that made the best coffee near work, and the seasonal flavors began to appear. Spencer got his usual pumpkin spice latte, you got a chai latte, which is always good, but at this time of year it was just hitting different.

The two of you spent the whole walk chatting non-stop. You felt the stares of some people when you were talking louder over excitement about something, but it did not matter when you were together.

“Originally, jack-o’-lanterns would have been carved out of potatoes, turnips and beets, but when immigrants came to America, pumpkins were more fruitful, so they became part of the tradition.” Told Spencer as you sipped your coffee and nodded your head in agreement to what he was telling you.

“I think it's easier too. Imagine having to carve something out of a turnip, it's so tiny.” You gesticulated to express how difficult it would be to make tiny faces in the little vegetable. He chuckled and his face showed pure confusion as he tried to understand the gestures, you rolled your eyes and laughed as well.

“You understood what I was doing, don't make a fool of me.”

“Yeah, I get it. All those little knives to make little faces. Really hard.”

A little further and there you were, some stalls with big vegetables and some with baked goods, toys or decorations. There were fairy lights everywhere, so your eyes hurted a little, but it was so beautiful that you could forgive the inconvenience. The way the lights reflected on Spencer’s face, in his glasses, made him look really pretty too. You felt like this moment had lodged itself in your brain like a core memory. He gave you a quick glance as he began searching through the stalls to find what he was looking for: a big ass pumpkin.

You followed him and looked at all the cool stuff that was being sold  there. All the trinkets were so interesting to you, you loved little objects that you could display in your home. It was tempting to buy them all, but unfortunately you did not. Every time you liked something, you showed it to him and he said, “You should buy it. It would look good in your house.” And you and Spencer would think about whether it was really worth it. For him, the Halloween decorations were always worth it, but you laughed and left it to save up for something greater.

“Hey, look at this!” He said, pointing to a big pumpkin, a really big one. Honestly, you shouldn't buy it, it was big and it would be a pain to get it home. But the way his face lit up when he pointed at the orange vegetable, you knew you wouldn't have the courage to say no. “Spencer, this is huge.” You said, stepping closer to him to look at the pumpkin. “Yeah, exactly. It's perfect for us.”

A few minutes later you were on your way home with the pumpkin. When your arms got tired, he carried it and when he was tired, you carried it like a little child who wants his parents. Apart from that, it was a nice walk to his apartment. You already knew the way by heart, just like he knew the way to your home and where you had hidden your key. It was only natural. You and Reid were a natural product of friendship– of love. The two things came together, but you couldn't help but wonder if this love was something more, something bigger. Whether Spencer's skin burned as much and his heart ached as much as you did. The September flush hit your face and made you shiver for a moment, in stark contrast to the feeling you had just a second ago when you thought of the possibility with him.

You were near his home now, turned the corner of the street and there you were. Spencer and you entered the building and now came to the worst part. “The stairs,” you said with a giggle, imagining yourself walking up the stairs with this thing. “That's on you, Dr. Reid.” you added, handing the pumpkin into his arms. 

“That's definitely not fair.” He whined, but he knew it was more than fair. It was his idea to buy such a large pumpkin, so it was his responsibility to carry it upstairs. “You should be glad you live on the second floor,” you laughed, touching his back to encourage him. “Let's go. You're strong.”

With some difficulty, you and Spencer got into his apartment, you took off your coat and put it in the coat rack with your bag. You went into his kitchen and searched for a large knife and all the other utensils, a bucket for the pulp and smaller knives for the details. He was prepping the floor with some old newspapers, so it would be easier to clean after. 

“Well, what face do you want to make?” You knew he'd never done the original Jack-O-Lantern face, so it must be something original, spooky and funny. “Maybe a scary cat?” He looked at you as he sat on the floor and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. “I think we can do this, yeah.” It can't be that hard, can it? you thought. You grabbed the big knife, sat down next to him and started to slice open the lid. It was a messy part, because you had to take the lid off to remove the pulp and seeds. As you did this, Spencer drew on a piece of paper what he wanted the pumpkin to look like and showed it to you to get your approval. You kept nodding and saying it looked nice. And it did. Spencer had many talents, some people wouldn't say drawing was one of them, but you really liked the little doodles and all the things he drew. A creepy little cat face that had a strange charm.

“I love it. I might steal that for myself.” You say, admiring the drawing. Spencer smiles and looks down at his knuckles. Still today he didn't know how to deal with compliments.

It was an intimate atmosphere, you on the floor, close to him, so close that every now and then you felt your arms against his, your skin touching and radiating the hot feeling in the area. His elbow casually touches your forearm, triggering a chaos of emotions in your head. You sigh and admire him drawing on the pumpkin. Your eyes linger on the way his strands of hair fall perfectly into his face, highlighting his profile. His glasses on the tip of his nose and his slightly open mouth show how focused he was. In an unconscious moment, you move your fingers and adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Spencer looks at you and giggles after wetting his mouth with the tip of his tongue. You love it when he does that. 

“Spence.” You call his name in an almost non-existent tone, so softly that he only listens because you were so close. He calls your name back in the same way. You can literally feel your breath catching and mingling with his. Feel how hot his face was, see how his glasses start to fog up. “Can I kiss you?” You say it without thinking, because your subconscious wanted this, needed this. “Y-yes. Absolutely.” Spencer's answer sounded like he wanted it as much as you did, like he was just waiting for confirmation.

And there was. The confirmation. You move eagerly to join your lips as his hand drops the pen to cup the back of your head. The kiss was gentle, just like his touch. You moved a little closer, placing your hand at his waist and tilting your head to better accommodate him. It was so much better than you had expected. Your lips met softly and tenderly and his hand held you like it was the most precious thing ever. The tip of his nose caressed your cheek and the glasses tingled against your skin in an endearing way.

You didn't want to let him go, but when your lungs demanded help, you slowly parted your lips. You both smiled while your faces were still close together. You kiss the corner of his mouth, looking at him. “I thought you'd never ask that,” he said, kissing you on the forehead.

At that moment, you realized that this kiss was only the first of countless kisses to follow that autumn night. 

[iknwreid]

PATTERN BANNERS | galaxy 06.

( requested by → Anon )

heehee, thank you for requesting this, Anonnie ! i used the same palette as my sunset mdni and support banners. :D I’m personally loving the second last set heheh 🤍

colours : 001 / 002 / 003 / 004 / 005 / 006 / 007 / 008 / 009

feel free to use; please like, reblog, and credit 〜

support me through ko-fi | more dividers →

[iknwreid]

trying to write something but you don't speak english as a first language so you get insecure but you can't let it go of spencer reid excited about fall/halloween so you have to write it

[iknwreid]

Make You Feel My Love

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

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader

Category: angst

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

Word count: 2k

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

main masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[iknwreid]

Series 1 Episode 1: Extreme Aggressor

Reid debuts in long sleeves and untucked shirts. I'd argue he's a lot more casual in his first appearance than he will go on to be. His outfit here doesn't seem too at odds with people his own age.

We've also got a first appearance of FBI clothing with the jacket.

[iknwreid]

love them so much

Not all brothers are siblings

[iknwreid]

All In- s.r. x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of nudity and strip poker, Spencer's far too smug for his own good

Spencer placed a hand on your shoulder. “Want to play a card ga-”

“No.”

Spencer smirked. “Alright.” He patted the headrest of the seat, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief. You turned your attention back to the book in your hands, feeling his gaze on you even without looking up.

Emily, who had witnessed your immediate refusal, looked at you in surprise. Her eyes then flicked to Spencer, noticing his seemingly neutral expression. She mistook it for hurt, but you knew better. You could almost feel the twinkle of amusement in his eyes, a sure sign that his rejection was more of a challenge than a disappointment.

“Go play cards with your man,” Emily said, nudging your leg with her foot. “You can’t just leave him hanging.”

You smiled to yourself, knowing full well what Spencer was up to. His insistence on playing cards, despite your disinterest, was his way of getting you to engage. You shook your head. “He cheats.”

Before Emily could ask what you meant, Spencer spoke up. “It’s not cheating!”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “It’s definitely cheating if you’re using your charm to distract me from winning.”

Spencer’s grin widened as he began shuffling the deck with a practiced flick of his wrist. “I prefer to think of it as making the game more enjoyable.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And how exactly does he manage that?”

Spencer leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let’s just say, I have a few tricks up my sleeve—both in cards and in making sure Y/N is never bored.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “He’s impossible. But he’s right about one thing. Playing cards with him is never boring.” You turned to look at Spencer. “I am never playing cards with you again.”

Emily's eyes widened in surprise, her curiosity piqued. “How bad did he get you?”

The last time you’d engaged in a card game with Spencer on the jet, you’d lost all of your peanuts. The game carried on after you made it home when you pulled out the jar of caramel sweets you had been rationing.

Emily’s eyes widened even more. “Wow, he really got you then. That’s impressive... and ruthless.”

You nodded with a resigned smile. “Exactly. And let’s just say that when Spencer suggested a game of strip poker, I decided to call it quits. I wasn’t about to lose anything else, especially not my dignity.” Then, he’d gotten every article of clothing, save your bra and panties.

Spencer chuckled, clearly enjoying the recollection. “Hey, it’s all in good fun. I thought it would spice things up a bit.”

Emily laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you two. I’d never have guessed that Spencer had a side like that.”

You leaned in, grinning. “Oh, you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg. But don’t worry, I’m sticking to less risky games from now on. My wardrobe and my dignity are safe for the foreseeable future. It took me weeks to find the bra on top of the bookshelf.”

As the jet continued its smooth flight, you found yourself settled next to Spencer, the gentle hum of the engines creating a calming backdrop. Despite your earlier declaration, you couldn’t resist the challenge when Spencer nudged the deck of cards toward you.

“So, are you sure you don’t want to play?” he asked with a playful grin.

You considered it for a moment, your competitive spirit getting the better of you. “Alright, fine. But this time, I’m not betting anything.”

Spencer shuffled the cards, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. The game began, and it wasn’t long before you felt the familiar sinking feeling. Despite your best efforts, Spencer’s deft card skills quickly put you at a disadvantage. Within the first few rounds, it became clear that you were on the losing end.

“Already?” Spencer teased, raising an eyebrow as he watched you reluctantly put down your hand.

You sighed dramatically, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Well, I guess I’m not as lucky today.”

He leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. “Seems like I might need to raise the stakes again.”

“Behave.”

Spencer chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Alright, alright. I’ll play nice. But you know, it’s all in good fun.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The jet was quiet, the rest of the team either asleep or engrossed in their own activities, making the hum of the engines the only consistent sound in the background. He leaned in closer to you, his voice dropping to a low, playful murmur.

“You know,” he began, his eyes glinting with mischief, “if you want, we could play for something a bit more... interesting.”

You looked up from the book you were pretending to read, suspicious of the tone in his voice. “Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind, Spencer?”

His smirk deepened as he continued to shuffle the cards with a practiced flick of his wrist. “How about this—if you win, you get your underwear back.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief, and you stared at him, mouth slightly agape. “Wait a minute… you’re telling me you have my underwear?”

Spencer’s grin widened as he nodded, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Maybe. They’ve been in a safe place, I promise.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, recalling the times when you’d been missing certain articles of clothing after your last game. “I’ve been searching everywhere for those! I thought they were lost in the laundry or something.”

He chuckled, his amusement evident as he dealt out a few cards for himself. “Or something. But, you know, if you’re not up for it…”

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him bait you into another one of his games. “I’m not playing. I’m done losing things to you," you said, sticking your tongue out at him.

Spencer simply shrugged, shifting his focus to the cards as he began a game of solitaire. His fingers moved deftly, the cards slipping into place effortlessly, but the smirk on his face never faded. He glanced at you, clearly enjoying your stubborn refusal to play along.

You huffed, unable to resist the challenge in his eyes. The idea of winning back what was rightfully yours—and wiping that smirk off his face—was too tempting to ignore. After all, you’d managed to get back almost everything else, and you weren’t about to let Spencer have the last laugh.

“Alright, fine,” you finally relented, setting your book down with a sigh.