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ssciurus · 3 days ago

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close to home | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a/n: this has been rotting in my brain for days now i hope you enjoy the angsty comfort this brought me <3 my requests are open (guidelines in pinned!) or if you wanna just chat hop in my ask box :) gonna hopefully work on a smut fic in the next week so keep an eye out hehe

cw: angst, hurt/comfort, protective!spencer, afab!reader who uses she/her pronouns, non bau!reader, cm type violence, reader sustains injuries from unsub, vague description of injuries, maeve mentions, derek being a good friend, spencer being so in love with reader, this takes place probably a year after maeve, inconsistencies with tls and characters but who cares

wc: 2.4k

summary: the bau is working a local case when their unsub strikes again mid investigation, hotch tells reid and morgan to go check it out but spencer finds the address of the crime to be a little too familar

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Whenever the BAU has a case based in the D.C. area, it’s always a little easier on the team. Familiar stomping grounds, ease of resources, no major time difference, and everyone can sleep in their own beds. The hard part about home cases is knowing there’s a serial killer in the place they know deeply, with people they cared about deeply.

Spencer and Callahan are in the middle of the bullpen staring at the giant white board with all the evidence they have so far. The unsub has been killing women in their mid 20s in the local dc area, with the mo currently unknown. there had already been two victims, both killed in their homes. Spencer was currently trying to analyze all the information the case had alongside with what Garcia was able to provide, and he was still hitting a dead end. Morgan had joined them at some point too, trying to offer what he could remember from the crime scenes but to no avail. He felt his eyes straining and dropping so he decided to get more coffee, but was stopped by Hotch and Garcia entering the bullpen.

“Police just got a 911 call about a break in, but there’s a witness this time. She was home when it happened and it looks like he didn’t expect that and tried to knock her out before escaping. I think it sounds like our unsub. Morgan and Reid, I need you to go check out the scene and interview the witness, see what she remembers.” Hotch explained.

Morgan and Reid nodded as Garcia spoke up, “I just sent the address to your phones, it’s a house on Hillcrest so it's not that far from here.”

Spencer froze. he had to have heard wrong, she did not say Hillcrest, “Did you say Hillcrest?”

“Yeah, Hillcrest Drive. It’s like, a 15 minute drive, not that far.”

He felt his heart drop to his feet, a sinking feeling building in his gut. That was the street you lived on. He tried to ground himself with logic, the probability of it being your house is only 10%, but he was dreading asking the fated question.

“Garcia, what’s the house number?”

“Reid, I already sent it to your pho-“

“Garcia, what is the house number,” he spoke again.

Please don’t say 1159. Please don’t say 1159. Please don’t say-

“1159.”

Fuck. The color drained from his face, and the nausea was building to a head quickly. Spencer hurriedly tried to think through the last time he spoke to you. Last night? This morning? He doesn’t check on you as much as he does when he’s not on a case, but oh my god why can’t he remember the last time he saw you.

“Reid,” Hotch bellows, finally breaking spencer out of his trance, “What is it? What do you know?”

He shook his head, “Nothing. Morgan, let’s go.” he grabbed his jacket and booked it out the door.

Morgan, Garcia, and Hotch all looked at each other in concern, before Morgan spoke up, “I’ll see what’s up.” The latter two nodded softly, though the worry didn’t let up in their eyes.

Morgan walked up to the car to find Spencer repeatedly trying to call someone on the phone, clearly unable to get through and getting really frustrated.

Spencer was alerted by Morgan’s presence hearing the car unlock but he didn’t even look at him, just immediately got in the car and strapped his seat belt. Morgan joined him in the drivers seat giving him a wary look before turning the car on and pulling out of the bureau.

“Okay Reid, spill it. It’s obvious you know who lives here.” Morgan speaks up.

“Just drive, please.”

“Because if you know something, something that could help the case, it would be helpful if we knew.”

“Morgan, just drive.” he borderline yells.

He raises his eyebrows at his raised voice, “Listen kid, i’m just trying to help you. I can see you’re upset but we’re on the same side, you know that.”

Spencer takes a shaky breath, feeling another shade of guilt at yelling at one of his friends, for something he didn’t even know about. He’d kept you a secret for many reasons— your relationship with him was still new, and he just wanted to keep you to himself for a bit. After what happened with Maeve, he felt especially more responsible at keeping you safe and making sure you didn’t get tangled up in his line of work.

Some job he did of that.

The one thing he regrets about how he handled the Maeve situation, was not asking for help until it was almost too late. For not doing anything about her stalker when he was part of one of the most famous fbi teams built to find people like that. He’d always live with that guilt, but he vowed not to do that with you.

He loved you so much. You were so kind, and smart, and beautiful. A breath of fresh air after feeling lost in a dark tunnel for so long. You were so understanding when he explained what he did for a living, and what had happened to him and people he cared about as a result. He still remembers what you said to him when he told you that you could have an out, if you wanted.

“Any risk is worth taking if getting to be with you is the consolation prize.”

Tears welled up in eyes thinking about the memory. If you were willing to take any risk, then he should be able to as well.

He cleared his throat, and Morgan’s ears perked up, “My uh, my girlfriend lives there. Where the unsub, at- attacked.” he voiced softly.

Morgan looked at him for a beat while driving, Spencer missing the way his face dropped. He tightened his hands on the wheels, and without hesitation he turned the lights and siren on and shifted gears to speed up.

The car pulled onto your street and the first thing Spencer sees is the flashing light of the ambulances. Morgan doesn’t even put the car in park before Spencer’s bolting out hoping he can find you quickly.

He’s asking all the paramedics he’s passing if they’ve seen you or know if you’re being treated, were you transferred to a hospital and he didn’t know. The tunnel vision slowly overtaking him until he hears a voice breaking through like sunlight call out his name.

He whips his head in the direction he heard it come from, and he’s never been more grateful to be met with the beautiful sight of you. You watch his eyes widen and let out a sigh before running over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance. He’s definitely not thinking when he goes in to hug you, not even knowing the extent of your injuries. He’s overtaken by the desperate need to hold you in his arms so he knows you’re safe and okay.

“Hi,” you choke out muffled, “Funny seeing you here.”

He pulls back to inspect your face, taking note of a small cut above your left eyebrow and the beginning splotches of a bruise forming on your lower jaw. His heart aches so much looking at you, knowing what happened to you and who did this to you.

“Hi, honey,” he lets out tearfully, “Are you okay? I mean, of course you’re not. But what did the paramedics say? Did they give you anything? Are you sure they checked all your injuries? You know what, let me go call the guy over. I’ll be two seconds.” his panicked ramble fading off as he rounds the truck you’re sat in to find the emt.

Upon his extensive questioning of the man who treated you, he found out that you had sustained a minor concussion from when the unsub swung at you with an umbrella, superficial cuts caused by a broken vase you threw to defend yourself, and a dislocated shoulder from getting shoved into the wall.

You were okay, but at what cost.

The EMT leaves you two and Spencer sits himself next to you on the rig. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you as tight as he can and the other hand cradles your head into the crook of his neck, holding you so tight he’s hoping he can squeeze the bad memories out of you. It’s at this moment of feeling safe and sound in his arms when the adrenaline of your attack wears off.

Spencer hears a small whimper and feels a few hot tears trickle down his neck, your breathing gets faster as you’re attempting to beat your body’s fear response. The slow build up of sobs starting to rack your chest, and he immediately holds you tighter.

“It’s over, baby, they won’t hurt you anymore. I promise.”

You sniffle, “I know, I just can’t believe this happened. To me. To us. It’s not fair to you.” trailing off the last two words.

“To me? Wh- what do you mean?”

You take a deep breath, “I don’t mean to bring it up again, I just know how eerily similar this is to a past experience you’ve had. and I hoped that I wouldn’t be in a position to make you feel that way again. I don’t know why this happened, I'm sorry.”

He looked down at you incredulously, genuinely unable to believe that you were sitting next to him on an ambulance, beaten up with bruises and scars after a home invasion attack, worried about how he would feel when he got to you. It was enough to finally let the swell of tears saved up in his eyes fall.

“Oh sweetheart,” he chokes out, realizing you’ve been trying to be brave for him this whole time, “What happened is not your fault, do you understand me? My job is to always worry about you and your safety. When Garcia said the address I…I couldn’t even process it, I don’t even know how I got to the car,” he shook his head, “But I am the last person you need to push your emotions down for. I will always take them in stride and love you even more for that, okay?”

“Okay,” you take a shaky breath, “I love you.”

“I love you.” he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

Both of your heads look up at an approaching figure, who you quickly recognize to be SSA Derek Morgan. You knew Spencer hadn’t told the team about you yet, so you tried to sit up independently as fast as you could before he came over and suspected something.

Spencer’s grip didn’t let up when he bent down and whispered, “It’s okay, he knows.” You look up at him with wide eyes when derek finally reaches you.

“Reid, I already talked to the detectives and we’re good to go when you’re ready,” he turns his body to you and gives you a comforting smile, “Hi sweetheart, I’m Derek Morgan, it’s nice to meet you.”

Spencer rolls his eyes at the nickname while you giggle softly, “Hi Derek, I’ve heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you too.”

“I wish it were under better circumstances,” he sighs, “Listen, I know it’s all still really fresh for you, but it might help the case if you’re able to come in for a cognitive interview, or even talk to a sketch artist.”

Spencer doesn’t miss a beat before protesting, “Absolutely not. We can do it later, it’s fine.”

“Reid-“

You look up at him placing your hand on his chest, “Spence, It’s okay. I want to help, please.”

He rests his hand on top yours and gives it a light squeeze, “Okay, but i’m not leaving you alone for a second.”

“I didn’t think you would.” you smile.

“Alright lovebirds, you can have your private time later, we should go now.” Derek teases.

Spencer groans, “See, this is why i didn’t say anything.”

“You think I’m bad? Wait till Penelope meets her.”

The three of you pile into the car before starting the drive to Spencer’s apartment so he could get you a change of clothes and other things you might need. You end up falling asleep in the back seat, the final stage of your shock sinking in like a rock. Spencer checks on you from the rear view mirror and sees you passed out, and smiles.

“She’s cute,” Derek starts, “Can I ask how long?”

“Nine months.” he replies, fishing for something out of his pocket.

“Pretty boy hid a girl from all of us for nine months? Maybe we’re not as good profilers as we thought.”

“Imagine that,” he laughs, and gestures to the item in his hand, “Look.”

Spencer’s holding out a well loved photo booth strip with three pictures, of you and Spencer from the time you went to a local county fair. You’re sitting in his lap, mostly due to the cramped space and the expansive limbs. The first picture is the two of you holding up finger guns attempting to be as back to back as you can. The second picture, you intended it to be a normal one where you both smile at the camera, but spencer couldn’t take his eyes off you and the picture captured the love struck gaze he had on you. The last one you were about to tell him the idea for it, when he grabbed your face and pulled you closer to kiss you, neither of you knowing when the final picture snapped.

The edges were worn out and frayed, clearly broken down by the oils on his fingers from pulling it out frequently. It was his most treasured item, a constant reminder of what was always waiting for him when he got back from grueling cases, and how lucky he was to have you in his life.

“You look really happy, kid.” Derek says, thinking about the many times he’s seen his friend at rock bottom, the things that have been so brutally taken from him, and the suffering he’s had at the hands of his job. His heart warms for his friend, who seemed to finally catch a break.

“I am.”

#SHAKING THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

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ssciurus · 13 days ago

Note

It was simply something Spencer believed just wasn’t meant for him. He’d never seen himself in the happy faces of couples he passed on the street

‼‼😭😭😭😭💔💔

The twinkling on his own‼‼‼ NOOO ITS SO WORSE CAUSE ITS ACCURATE AA CHARACTER ANALYSIS NOOO

Bros long arms where meant to be fly swatters 🥺

Absolutely no pressure, babes. Writing should be fun, not stressful!

What thoughts do you have about say…early seasons Spencer being completely whipped for his girlfriend? He has absolutely no idea how he landed this really awesome gal, but there she is, his beautiful girl, who wants to listen to him, spend time with him.

Serendipity // Spencer Reid☕️

Thank you so much for my first request🥺 your support means so much! I got a little carried away, this is definitely more elaborate than what you asked, I hope you like it anyway but lmk if you want anything a little more playful and light and I can totally give that a go too!

Synopsis: Spencer Reid has never looked for love, believing it was simply just not in the cards for him. That was until you stumbled into his life, changing his perceptive on life- and on himself.

Pairing: early seasons glasses! spencer x reader

Genre: deep fluff

Word Count: 3k

Notes/Tags: bees as a catalyst for love because why the hell not, infodumping as flirting, talks about constellations (from me? shocker), lot of references to spencer’s past bullying & home life, hes down BAD bad he literally studies what to do on a date, princess and the frog reference at the end just pretend it didn’t come out in 2009 okay <3

masterlist

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Spencer Reid had always been a man of science, not of superstitions or of coincidences of the universe. While he found stories fascinating, to him that’s all they were- stories. He believed in facts and numbers, things that were tangible and real and he never indulged in any kind of magic of destiny. That was until he met you. No amount of research, no book he threw himself into or study he conducted could ever account for just how he ended up with you. He wrecked his brain trying to calculate the statistical probability of this happening and how you could have appeared right when he needed you, but for once in his life he was stumped.

He’d never been one to look for love. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it, in fact he felt it like a rock in his chest where his heart should be, heavy and aching behind his ribs as it yearned for what it thought it could never be. It was simply something Spencer believed just wasn’t meant for him. He’d never seen himself in the happy faces of couples he passed on the street, he never related to the dreamy, put-together romantic leads he’d seen in movies, rather he saw himself in isolation. In solitude. A lone star with no constellation. He was there, that much he knew, and he twinkled in his own way, but not in any way that drew attention. Just enough to show that he was alive, just evidence that he existed up there too. He had no connections around him, no story to be told and no greater picture that he was a part of. He felt more like a torch imitating a star, a false light that didn’t dazzle quite as authentically as it searched the dark for what it needed rather than just resting in what it had. Spencer had made his peace with this though- at least he thought he had. After all, the stories behind the constellations are just myths. They’re simply just things humanity had attached meaning to with no real science or history behind them, and he truly believed that.

That’s why you were so baffling to him.

It started with a bee, of all things. It was Spencer’s turn to do the coffee run for the team in the middle of a local case, his steps weighing beneath him with exhaustion despite it being the middle of the day as he dragged himself to the door of the café. He had just wrapped his fingers around the door handle and was gathering the little energy left in him to swing it open when a sudden scream rang out behind him, jolting him awake as he dropped his hand and spun to face the noise. On edge from the case, his mind rattled through a thousand dire possibilities as he mentally prepared to jump into action. What his eyes landed on, however, wasn’t any kind of crash or violent attack like he had feared, but rather a girl… swatting a bee. The panicked lump in his throat cleared as he caught his breath and watched you flail your arms in the air as you continued squealing, coffee flying out of the small hole in the top of your takeaway cup in every direction. Deciding to put you out of your misery, as it was still his duty to protect no matter how small the stakes, he took a step closer and with one heroic wave of his arm the bee was gone.

There was a feeling he couldn’t quite place somewhere deep in his chest as he took in your expression; big dazed eyes flooding with relief as they watched the culprit flew away; soft cheeks painted pink in the aftermath of the chaos; and lips parted ever so delicately as small puffs of air escaped them, before they spread into a brilliant grin that took over your whole face. Laughing lightly, you reached out and gently held his arm to grab his attention, not realising you’d had it the whole time.

“Thank you so much. You saved my life there.” Your voice chirped, though he barely registered it through the flustered rush of blood pounding in his ears.

Spencer looked down to where your hand still rested on his arm. Usually this was the part where he would recoil, politely but firmly snatching his arm back as he mumbled something about germs and bacteria and pathogens. But he didn’t pull away. Why didn’t he pull away? A beat of awkward silence passed as he stuttered internally, trying to get his mouth to cooperate with his brain as he failed to tear his gaze away from your eyes.

“It was a drone.” He groaned at himself in his head. Respond normally, idiot his brain yelled.

For a second, your brow furrowed as you bit your lip in thought. “I’m sorry?”

“It, uh-“ He stammered, painfully aware that your hand was still on his arm. “It was a drone. A male bee. It wouldn’t have hurt you.”

Nice going he cursed himself. Spencer held his breath as he braced himself for the inevitable reaction he was all too familiar with; the awkward hum as the other person pulled away, the barely masked grimace on their face at his compulsive need to drop facts at any given moment, and finally one of the many variations of ‘I’m running late, I better get going” among other excuses to stop talking to him. Except it never came.

Instead, you tilted your head to the side curiously, a thoughtful look on your face as you stared at the space in the air where the bee had been just moments ago. You were still touching him.

“Do male bees not sting or something?” You asked, the genuine interest in your voice taking Spencer by surprise.

He almost wasn’t sure what to do. If he wasn’t used to people actually listening to him when he rambled, someone asking him for even more information was practically unheard of.

“They can’t sting,” he begun, a mix of confidence and excitement at your interest bubbling up in his words, “stingers aren’t compatible with their anatomy. The stinger is essentially a modified ovipositor so it only exists on the female bees so they can lay their eggs. The stinger also isn’t needed for male bees for any defensive purposes since they have no role in defending the hive either so, uh.” His voice trailed off as he cleared his throat, his confidence dipping as he realised how much he was speaking. “Yeah, perfectly harmless.”

He sheepishly met your gaze once again, still half expecting to find that disinterested, disapproving look in your eyes. You finally pulled your hand away from his arm and oddly, Spencer found himself mourning your warmth through his sleeve and shocked himself with how much he wished you would reach for him again.

“That’s actually good to know.” His heart raced as you flashed a grin at him. “I’ve always been terrified of bees. That little fight you saw just now is a regular thing for me.” You replied with a giggle so sweet Spencer thought he should bottle it and pour it in his coffee- if he ever remembers to go in and get it.

“It’s a pretty common phobia, but actually bees have a lot of positive symbolism that contradicts people’s connotations about them.” His felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He ignored it.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Spencer noted the way your fingers drummed against the coffee cup in your hands, realising you had your drink already and there was really no reason for you to be here anymore. You were choosing to be here with him. For a moment, he felt like he’d had the breath knocked out of him and he felt his heart beat so hard behind his shirt he worried it would break out.

“Most commonly, they’re associated with hard work and community but in a lot of cultures they also represent prosperity and the circle of life. In ancient cultures they even believed bees to be of divine wisdom and they were seen as a symbol of guidance.” His cadence was suddenly a lot livelier, much more sure of itself as it evened out and strayed from the quiet shake of his words earlier.

“A symbol of guidance?” You repeated, not so subtly eyeing him up and down, adoring the nerdy way his glasses slipped down his nose as he spoke. “Maybe that’s what that bee was doing here today.”

There was a flirty undertone to your voice, not that Spencer noticed. Girls never flirted with him, or at least he convinced himself they didn’t. He’d spent far too much time on the receiving end of older girls in school pretending to like him for their own amusement and so he’d stopped looking for the signs entirely until they just began to pass him by.

“What do you mean?” He asked quizzically, his head tilting like a puppies in confusion.

“It guided you to me.”

His phone began ringing again- no doubt the team wondering where their coffees were, but he couldn’t even hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“Do you need to get that…?” You trailed off, trying to catch his name.

“Spencer.” He managed to croak out eventually. “And no- well I probably should actually, but it can wait.”

His doe eyes were blown wide, his mouth hanging open like a fish in a stunned state you didn’t yet know you would grow to love. You bumped his arm in a playful manner, holding back a smirk when his still dazed eyes darted between your face and your hand on his arm once again.

“Give me another one before you go, another nice bee thing.” You smiled softly, staring up at him through your lashes, and the invitation to teach again pulled him back to reality as he snapped into action instantly.

“This isn’t necessarily anything to do with bees themselves but have you heard of the Beehive Cluster?” He smiled fondly when you shook your head. “It’s a cluster of around a thousand stars within the Cancer constellation- described by Ptolemy as a nebulous mass. It’s named after its resemblance to a beehive, both in shape and in symbolism- the stars together in harmony like the bees.”

“That sounds beautiful, Spencer. You know a lot about the stars?” He nodded eagerly, but not smug. More like a man who was passionate about what he knew and was eternally grateful to have someone to share it with. “Well you’ll have to take me stargazing some time, it looks like I’ve got a lot to learn. What do you think?”

It was as if he’d been hypnotised, your proposal like the magic word that snapped his confidence back like elastic as his jaw dropped again immediately and he became a stuttering mess right there in front of you.

Spencer had a lot of explaining to do when he arrived back at the BAU empty handed.

Fast forward a few unfathomable months down the line and here he was, somehow lying beside you in bed watching the moonlight drape over your sleeping frame like the blanket wrapped around your waist. A heavy but pleasant feeling tugged at his consciousness, unsure whether it was from the late hour blinking on the clock or the love-drunk haze he always seemed to be in around you (though he would happily bet on the latter).

Afraid to touch you and disturb your sleep, Spencer let his eyes wander over you lovingly. His breath hitched with admiration as if it was his first time looking at you, overwhelmed and quite frankly astounded at the fact you were even here. With him. He gazed over your hands -your soft, gentle hands that pushed his glasses back up his nose with a touch so delicate against his face that he forgot about every hand that ever struck him there; your doting, attentive hands that buttoned his cardigans each morning when he was rushing too much to care about it himself; your tender, caring hands that combed through his hair as he cried into your shoulder after a case that hit him particularly hard. He let out a shuddering breath, his trance travelling to your lips, parted in your sleep and rosy like a cherub’s. Those same lips that harboured your sweet voice and that flashed your heavenly smile his way and made him weak. Those lips that reassured him that he was the only thing that mattered when he felt he was the only thing that didn’t. Finally, with bated breath, his focus shifted to your eyes that shone like the north star. His Polaris. His guiding light home, always waiting in the dark with open arms for him to fall into whenever he was lost. Those enchanting eyes that saw the beauty in everything- that somehow saw it in him.

Spencer was someone who valued his privacy and he had tried to keep the relationship to himself for a while, but working with a team of profilers and the fact he wore his heart on his sleeve meant it didn’t last very long. Before your first date he had shown up to work a little fancier than usual, like a child on their first day of school, knowing he would have to meet you straight from the office. Derek had immediately caught onto his gelled back hair and elaborate tie, embroidered with a sea of stars, and had thrown a few teasing comments his way along with his signature brotherly smirk. Gideon in a fatherly manner had straightened his tie for him before he left, patting him on the back and holding back a proud smile. The next day, when the grin Spencer wore pulled at his lips so hard it may as well have been stitched in place, his walls came crashing down and he told the team everything.

Spencer would never admit it but he’d studied beforehand, scouring the library for anything and everything even remotely romance related. As it turns out, being years below your peers your whole life doesn’t really open any doors in the dating world, often leaving him tuning out his emotions over a solitary game of chess, but he was determined to do everything he could to learn to be the perfect gentleman for you. At the restaurant, he pulled your chair out for you before seating himself closest to the door to protect you from the breeze whenever it swung open. Afterwards he walked you home, lingering close enough to breathe in the intoxicating smell of your perfume but refusing to touch you uninvited lest you think that was all he wanted from you.

Eventually, you approached your front door and you stopped for a moment, turning your head up towards the blackening sky, the stars not quite poking their pretty little heads out yet.

“What’s the matter?” Spencer asked, concerned as you sported a slight pout.

“I wanted you to show me the Beehive Cluster.” You sighed, dropping your gaze to the floor, a crease appearing between your brows that he found himself wishing he could kiss away, touched that you’d even remembered what he’d told you.

Your head snapped back up as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a notepad and pen with a small smile. You watched, confused as he frantically scribbled in silence, not daring to speak incase you burst the focused bubble he was in. After a moment, he glanced back up at you with a bashful expression, shyly holding out the piece of paper, now torn from the book.

“Until next time.” He said softly, barely audible but impactful nonetheless. Heart melting, you took in the scribbled illustration of the cluster on the page, fingers delicately tracing the ink like it was sacred.

That same drawing now lived framed on the nightstand beside where you slept, lit up by the moonlight creeping in through the curtains. The memory played over in Spencer’s mind on loop and he thought about waking you, overcome with the urge to pepper your face with a thousand kisses for every painful memory of his past you’d overwritten. For every girl that had asked him out as a joke; for every boy that made him feel inferior; for every time he had refused to let himself believe he could be in love, there was a countless amount of new memories with you. From his understanding of the world, love had always looked like something that left you in pieces more often than it put you back together. Love looked like a broken home and a broken family. Like something that only worked out in fiction and sometimes not even then. Love was a forbidden fruit hanging illuminated in an artificial light that looked just real enough to trick people into taking a bite, punishing those who dared think they were deserving of it. What he never even dreamed was that love could look just like this. Like sci-fi movie nights curled up together on the couch wearing matching mis-matched socks, or like quiet evenings spent comfortably side by side saying nothing but feeling everything. Truthfully, he never knew love could look like you.

All this time, Spencer believed it was his place in the universe to sit alone and observe, twinkling humbly from his place in the dark. He believed he was simply meant to tell the stories, not be part of one himself. Little did he know his place was beside you, his Evangeline, in a harmonious beehive all his own.

Spencer Reid had always been a man of science. But that night, as you lay beside him, he thought about the old mythological beliefs that bees were once divine messengers between mortals and the Gods- and he thought that maybe he believed it. Tears pricked his eyes as he leaned in and pressed a feather light kiss to your forehead and he found himself thanking that serendipitous bee that day for bringing him everything he didn’t know he was missing.

#Oh no facts are hot! Yes babe go off on your bee facts #BABY DOE BABY DOE‼‼‼‼ AAAA #In TEARS THIS IS LIKE A RED VELVET BLIZZARD ITS SO SCRUMPTIOUS #Spencer reid next to a deer crossing sign fr 😭 need a warning <333 #snapped his confidence back like elastic as his jaw dropped #?? Wow that's so nicely worded NSSNS #💥💥goodjob‼‼#😭 😭 😭 😭 THE STAR GAZING SCENE GAASP #EEEEEEEE SPENCER WHEN HE DRESSES ALL CUTE AAAA #🥺🥺🥺🥺Gideon mention should've had a warning on all its own OOOOOOO I MISS GIDEON #🥺🥺🥺Spencer reid smile..... his smile so pretty #Spencer kissing the little crease...NEED A MINUTE HOLD ON #The constellation drawing still hangs up in whatever new house they get #and their baby tm plays connect the dots on the glass of the frame with a dry erase marker #ANYWAYSSSS #AND JUST WHEN I THOUGHT IT WAS OVER THERE WAS DESSERT #Bravo bravo👏👏👏encore encore‼‼#I have a drawing im working on where baby tm and Spencer get caught in the rain so he puts them in a bee robe 🥺🥺 ‼‼AND THEN THIS💓💓

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