#because the 'wrong' team has a freak gross old man on it and he's delightful to me

[shittywizzard]

he's one of the most successful and disturbing horror villains ever written to YOU. to me he is my cringe wife

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

For the Sake of Science

summary: spencer finds himself thinking...like a scientist. he thinks about to the first time fell in love, but ended up scarred. he think’s he’s in love, but he first needs to carry out an experiment for the sake of science. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem reader

author’s note: i really hate writing summaries because it’s so hard to capture everything in one-two sentences. 

warning: spencer’s internal thoughts are a lot; vague sexual harassments

 For the Sake of Science 

Spencer Reid thinks that there must be something wrong with him. He’s nearly 30 years old and still can’t shake someone’s hand or welcome one of Penelope’s hugs. He knows he’s different, but this — this makes him feel like a freak. 

Maybe it was his childhood? Maybe because his mom couldn’t hold him or cuddle with him the recommended amount to develop secure attachment, he became touch averse. Maybe it’s because his dad left and he felt even more lonely with just his mom that the idea of being touched started to scare him. Or maybe it was the bullies — being stripped naked and mocked will do that to a kid, he thinks to himself. Or it could be even that he didn’t get his first kiss until he was 20 and the kisser being a boy, Ethan, threw a wrench in Spencer’s dreams of having someone who wanted to hold his hand in public or kiss him in the corridor and not care that people were looking. 

Spencer is a product of his environment. As a psychologist he tells himself that a healthy mix of parent issues, childhood torment, and being left by the first person he really loved would cause anyone to be insecure in physical relationships. 

But something has changed. He wants to hold someone's hand, and it doesn’t fill him with anxiety at thought. It doesn’t make him think of Ethan leaving him. It makes him feel light and floaty -- happy. Ever the scientist, Spencer decides to carry out an experiment on touch. And the subject of his experiment, Y/N, sits a couple feet away from him. 

Spencer couldn’t really pinpoint when he started feeling differently about Y/N. Maybe it was when he noticed when her grapefruit perfume changed to cinnamon and something warm. Maybe it was when he noticed that she got really quiet on cases that dealt with family annihilators and the lines on her face would seem a little deeper. Maybe it was when he realized that her touch was much different than JJ’s or Penelope’s. Her touch was a lingering sting that left him craving more. It was like she picked up the pen Ethan left and dipped it into ink to trace the scars of heartbreak on Spencer’s canvas.  

Her touch left him wanting more, needing more. Derek would tell him to ask her out. Take her to the movies and try to kiss her. But Spencer isn’t Derek Morgan, he’s Spencer Reid and hopefully that’s enough for Y/N.

________________________________________________________________

Spencer decides to carry out his experiment in the small kitchen that BAU shared with Sex Crimes. Like clockwork, Y/N walks from her desk to the kitchen at 9:34 to get a second cup of hot tea. She reaches up to the shelf to grab her cup that, much to Spencer’s delight, shared a spot next to his mug. He likes to look at the two mugs sitting next to each other and pretend that they aren’t shelved away in a small communal kitchen with a crappy coffee maker, but in their house, in their kitchen. 

He checks his watch at 9:31 and heads into the kitchen. Spencer stands there waiting for his coffee to brew, and an eye watching out for when Y/N would walk through to the kitchen. He almost feels bad for hiding her step stool. Almost, but if it means he’d be able to carry his plan out , he’d be able to forgive himself. 

“Hey, Spence. Isn’t that like your third cup in an hour?” Y/N says to him, smiling brightly. He moves the mug just slightly out of Y/N’s view. 

“Uh-” Spencer starts. “I, well you know me! I love coffee.” Spencer says nervously. 

Y/N looks at him, still smiling brightly. Spencer gives himself the benefit of the doubt, telling himself that she could be smiling at him, or even better because of him. 

“You need all that caffeine to stimulate that genius brain of yours, Dr. Reid.” She says  in a tone that Spencer could not decipher. 

He feels his face flush and warm at her using her honorific. Spencer reminded himself of his goal, to figure out if he really does love Y/N. Part of him knows the answer, and the other part of him is too scared to get left in the dust again. 

“Huh, that’s strange, where is the stool?” She says aloud, turning around to check the side of the cabinet for stool. 

Spencer, whose plan was panning out flawlessly, took the opportunity to reach on the highest self for his mug. It was a plain looking mug, dark blue with his name labelled on the bottom, altering anyone that it was off limits. Until now. 

He hands the mug to her in such a way that his finger tips would brush hers. Y/N’s surprised look melted into a pleased smile. Spencer does not want to let go of the mug, maybe it was a slight hesitation at the germs, or maybe it was him just wanting to keep her close for even a couple more seconds. 

“I think you grabbed the wrong mug, Spencer” She says, handing him the mug back to its rightful owner. 

“Hm, I don’t seem to see your’s Y/N. I guess maybe it-I don’t know” He says dumbly, this is the part of the plan that he was still a little unsure about -- talking to her. He turns, so his back is leaned up against the edge of the counter, so he hid her mug out of view.

“You don’t mind me using your mug, Spencer? Here I thought you wouldn’t shake my hand or even hug me?” She says with an amused tone in her expression. 

The only reason Spencer hasn’t tried to hold her hand or hug her is because he knows he’ll never want to let go. He’d be left again - cold and alone. 

“Germs don’t seem to be bothering me that much, Y/N” Spencer remarks.

“Hmm maybe it’s something about turning 30? Like you lose your germaphobia and start losing your hair?” She teases. 

And then the unexpected happened. Y/N reaches up and ruffles Spencer’s hair. Her fingertips graze his scalp and Spencer forgets how to breathe. He wants to lean down into the touch and fully appreciate her attention. 

“You know my birthday is coming up?” He asks. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, or maybe in some way Y/N remembers  his birthday. Even though Spencer couldn’t forget her birthday if he tried, the idea of her purposefully remembering his birthday is something that gave him those butterflies. 

“How could I forget the day that my favorite person was born?” 

“I’m your favorite person?” Spencer speaks. He could feel his cheeks heat as she looked at him like what she just said didn’t just nearly kill him. 

“Spencer, I’m pretty sure you are everyone’s favorite person. And well, only because Motel and Tzeitel are cats” She says with a wink, walking away with her hot cup of tea that Spencer didn’t even realize she brewed as he stood there. 

He’s her favorite person.  Her favorite person. Maybe this is going better than he expected. Maybe Spencer, a man of science, a man whose heart had been shattered one too many times would let himself have an ounce of faith. After all, he’s his favorite person’s favorite person. 

“Hey Y/N!” Derek calls as the team walked back into the bullpen, all very tired from the case. Y/N, who was ahead of Derek, but right behind Spencer and JJ, turned to answer her friend. 

“Whatcha going to do with Detective Dreamy’s phone number?” He asks, with a suggestive nudge. 

Spencer stopped his walk back to his desk. His bag bounced against his leg, he tried to focus on how many times his watch ticked, he tried his hardest to ignore this conversation happening behind him. But something kept him glued to the spot. 

“Huh? Oh you mean Detective Allen? Um, he’s uh...I don’t think it’s going to work out,” Y/N tells the group. 

“What do you mean, Y/N. Allen seemed cute, for a man I guess,” Emily says with an eye roll. Her comment elicited a small chuckle from JJ. 

“Yeah, and he’s a total pig head,” Y/N says, much to Spencer’s delight. 

The team looks at her with an expectancy to continue. Spencer turns to face his colleagues, who gather around Y/N. 

“He called me a and I quote ‘a fine piece of ass’ and that he ‘reckons girls with my job must know how to put out to get ahead’, so gross” She says, shivering at the thought. 

Emily and JJ’s eye rolls and small comments reassured Y/N that if she wanted Penelope could find that man in three seconds and tell his mother what animal she raised. Derek tells Y/N that he could pay Allen a friendly visit to remind him why he got into the FBI. Frankly, doors aren’t that different from a 5’10 man. 

Spencer sees red. There are times when he gets jealous of people who came and went in Y/N’s love life. He used to think that it was just a friendly protectiveness. He wouldn’t want JJ to get hurt by Will or Emily to get hurt by Natalie. But this is different. He feels mad that anyone would think that they could talk about Y/N like that. It’s not like he never thinks about her in less than professional scenarios. But they were usually thoughts about what noises she’d make or how beautiful her face would look like after he could kiss her as much as she’d let him.

If Spencer was a different man, a more confident, brazen man, maybe he’d pull Y/N to the side and tell her that she’s a brilliant agent. But Spencer still sees himself as that 22 year old who’s secret boyfriend left him for a gig in New Orleans. 

If Spencer was a different man, a more suave, smooth man, maybe he’d kiss her on the elevator ride to the car garage. But Spencer’s quiet on the ride down. He can’t even look at Y/N, he just sees his last chance of happiness flush down a toilet. 

If Spencer was a different man, a more assertive, romantic man, maybe he would have gone after Ethan. Maybe he would have chanced his chance at happiness, following the melody of the seductive jazz tunes, along with the pang in her heart. But Spencer thinks he just might let happiness slip through his fingers at the sad look on Y/N’s eyes as she leaves the elevator. 

She does something that stops his internal crisis. Y/N stands in front of Spencer as they walk together, but not together to their cars. Spencer swears to himself that even without his eidetic memory he’d never forget the look on her face. 

“Spencer, I um-” Y/N said, not making eye contact with Spencer. “I know that you don’t like to hug me or anything like that, it’s just I really need a hug right now,” she said, her eyes darting to the ground. 

Spencer doesn’t say anything, instead he wraps his arms around Y/N. He never hugged anyone besides his mom or Ethan. It’s very different hugging Y/N than it was hugging them. For one, she was much shorter and her smell was different too. Sweeter and lighter than Ethan’s cologne, but it had a familiar welcoming and safe aroma. He doesn’t really know what to do with his hands, so he settles on placing one to rub gently on her back and the other tenderly cupped her head. He holds her as he craved that she’d hold him. For now, it was enough to just be the person that she came to when she felt like the world was against her. 

“Thank you Spencer, I felt so gross and dirty from that asshat, so I just needed to feel like I’m not-” 

“A piece of um- ‘ass’” Spencer says, air quotes and all. 

Maybe it was the idea of Spencer cursing, but Y/N snorts at the sound of the unsavory word leaving Spencer’s lips. 

“A fine piece of ass, Spencer” Y/N counters. 

“Hey, Y/N you know that you don’t deserve that right, what I mean is that, you’re beautiful but that’s the least interesting thing about you,” Spencer says, taking his turn to stare towards the ground.

“Is that way you let me use your cup, Spence? You wanted to show me how you, uh, feel?” She questions, picking up his hand in hers. Her fingers traced the light lines on his palm. 

“Hmm, you saw right through me, didn’t you?” 

“I watched you hide the stool, Spence and you took my cup! You should have more faith in my profiling abilities” She says laughing. 

“I was carrying out an experiment, Y/N.” Spencer explains. 

“About what?” 

“Um, so you know that I don’t really like being touched, it’s been a thing for a really long time. But for you, I’d rather die than to never feel your touch,” he professes. 

“Hmm, well luckily for you, I think I can just make sure that doesn’t happen” She says, brushing his hair from his eyes. Her fingers graze over his cheeks, his eyes, his nose, and his lips. She’s careful in her touches. So light and tender, that she thinks he might break if she presses too hard or gives into everything she’s feeling. It’s so soft that Spencer has to strain himself to feel it. He moves his hands bravely to hug her waist.

Her light laugh breaks him from his trance. Maybe Spencer can remember what the poets were talking about when you hear the one you love laugh. Maybe he can recall what it feels like to be so important to another person. Maybe he can recollect what it’s like to have someone to call his and what it’s like to be someone’s someone. 

Both their hearts are beating so fast that they meld into one beautiful beat. He holds her cheek in his hand as she cups the back of his neck, her fingers latched onto his hair. If he gets a chance, he needs to ask her if she likes his hair, because between the ruffles and the tugging, he’s sure it’s a thing. He turns off the part of his brain that can never be silent, or at least as much as he could when Y/N is gently wrapping her fingers in his hair and looking at him like she wants to kiss him. 

“Spencer, um, you know for the sake of your experiment you should see if kissing elicits the same response. For science, hmm?” She reasons. 

“Well, I can’t fight the scientific method, can I?” Spencer says, before he leans in to meet his lips to hers. 

Y/N’s eyes flutter close as she presses her forehead against Spencer’s, who leans down slightly to reach her. Spencer feels dizzy with anticipation and a mix of pure euphoria. Her lips are softer than he imagined and she’s much more confident than him. She kisses the corners of his mouth, up his cheeks, and nose. It’s like she retracing the path that Ethan left open and raw. Her kisses heal him with the medicine of love and security. 

Spencer knows he would never be the one to break the kiss. Or any kiss that they would share, if he ever got so lucky. He never wants to let go. 

“Come on, Dr. Reid, I have an experiment of my own I want to try” 

As Spencer walks to her car, he thinks about how well her palm fits into his. He thinks about how those butterflies are uncaged and free. Those Ethan shaped butterflies morphed into Y/N shaped butterflies. This love was different, because after all, he was different now. And different, different is good.