#mine: detective spence

[eizagonzalezs]

Spencer Hastings | 3.13 Pretty little liars (2010-2017)

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith//spencer reid - chapter 12

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her new friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid. (Baby Spence)

pairing: Fem!OC x Spencer

word count: 3.4k

content warnings: slight angst

A/N: hey everyone! i hope you're all doing well. i'm so sorry for the late update but i'm really excited about where this chapter is headed. see you soon <3

masterlist

I watch the sunlight hit the wing of the jet and reflect off the metal. before we've even landed, I can practically feel the warmth of the Los Angeles sun in my mind. even though we're here for a case, all I can think about is how much nicer the weather will be. 

"the light will damage your eyes." Reid's voice across from me jolts me back to reality. he redirects me to the chess board, where he's apparently already made his move and is waiting for me to do the same. 

I frown. "whatever."

normally, there'd be some kind of clock to keep track of our moves, but Spencer has been keeping our progress slow. it's appreciated, as I'm still familiarizing myself with the rules of the game and different playing strategies. of course, I want to be good, but it's much easier said than done. 

"looking forward to LA?" I ask to bide my time while the doctor stares at the board. he rests his knuckles beneath his chin, then looks up at me. the dimming light catches his eyes in a honeyed tone. 

"it's okay, as long as we're not outside often." 

"okay, Dracula." I tease. he sighs the kind of sigh he does when he has a lot to say but doesn't want to compact all of it for the rest of us ordinary people to understand. 

"I just don't like the heat." 

"good thing you moved to DC." I reply sarcastically. 

he seems like he wants to say something in response, then decides against it. instead, he taps a long finger on the wooden board. "pay attention." 

"I don't wanna do this anymore, Spence." I whine. just then, JJ passes by with a cup of coffee and rests her hand on the top of my seat. 

"do what?" 

"chess," Spencer gives her a look asking for help before turning his gaze back to me. "you can't just give up every time something gets hard." 

"I can if it's something I don't care about," I roll my eyes. "he keeps beating me, too. it's defeating."  

"then play smarter." Reid gives me a challenging smile. 

"give her a break, Reid." JJ musses his hair as she walks past him and to her own spot. as Spencer fixes it with a blush, I push down my frustration. I know this is his specialty, but it's not mine and I'm tired. 

I give him something of a pleading expression before leaning back in my seat with arms folded. he stares at me for a minute-- or through me, really-- and then to the board. I try to reorient myself and give it another shot, my fingertips pressing impatiently into the surface of the table. 

"queen to h4." it comes out while Spencer coughs, the directions clear as day. he lifts his attention to me again and I look at him with confusion. is he really going to let me win? do I even want it? 

I want a nap more. 

with a satisfying click, I do as he says and trap him. Spencer shakes his head and lets out a breath. "wow." 

"shut up." I pick up the pawns and slide them back into the little velvet pouch that they came in. Reid pulls a book out of his bag and opens it, but not before sneaking a small smile over the rim of the pages. 

he knows what I'm going to say. "thanks." 

"mhmm." he goes back to reading. 

the smugness lingers in the air until I eventually doze off to the sound of the engine and the turning of pages. 

JJ wakes me up later to fill us in on the case. Hotch has been in the city for a few days already for a conference, but told us to come after a detective friend of his requested our help on a series of murders in the area, all execution-style shots with a .22 caliber handgun. 

"the first two victims were Wally Melman and Chloe Harris," she says. "they were both killed in public places. Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica, which she did every morning. Wally was killed outside a massage parlor, which he went to every Tuesday."

"if he knows their schedules he must follow his victims for a while," Morgan frowns as he flips through his file. "and no witnesses for either... he must be able to blend in."   

"meticulous." I rub my eyes. 

"the most recent victim is Natalie Ryan. she's an actress and there's been tons of media coverage about the murder, so I'd be cautious about paparazzi while we're there." JJ warns us as she settles onto the couch. 

I've never worked on a celebrity case before, so this puts me off slightly. the idea of everyone's eyes on us while we work makes me anxious, especially given the nature of LA paparazzi. 

 ...

the coffee is terrible at the precinct. I'm perched on the edge of a desk while Hotch paces back and forth, the detective situated across from the team. 

"you think he's an assassin?" he asks dubiously. 

Prentiss nods. "there's no obvious links within the victimology-- all the murders were clean except Natalie's boyfriend, Jeremy, who we think was just collateral damage." 

"there's no evidence left at any of the crime scenes or any signature, either." Reid rests his chin on his knuckles, eyebrows furrowed. his watch glints under the light. the guy still looks unconvinced, though, so I speak up.

"you're looking for a Type 4 assassin, someone who suffers from a major mental disorder. they're usually delusional."

Reid opens his mouth, likely to explain the other types of assassins, when someone knocks on the doorframe. it's a short, stocky man. 

"excuse me," he looks at all of us cramped in the tiny office. "is there a detective Kim here?"

"that's me." the detective stands. 

"you're in charge of the Natalie Ryan murder investigation, right?" 

at this, my ears perk up. everyone stares at the man.

"my client-- I'm sorry, is there anywhere we can talk about this in private?" he eyes us warily, suddenly uncomfortable with the amount of people around. I'm more intrigued than ever. 

"we're all working this case." Kim replies. 

"oh," he clears his throat. "well, my client received a note-- I told her not to worry about it, but--"

"where's the note?" Morgan cuts him off. 

he hands over a magazine clipping, an article on the Natalie Ryan murder, which has "YOU OWE ME" written in red marker across the page. Morgan gets up. 

"where's your client?"

"she's in the other room."

"Reid, Williams, let's go." he follows the man out, Spencer and I trailing quickly behind like ducklings.

there's a separate office tucked into the corner of the precinct, where the man gestures to a young woman sitting in a chair. I don't recognize her, but she looks like a celebrity herself.  

"this is my client, Lila Archer." the guy tells us. he must be her manager. the woman turns to see us standing there. she's obviously distraught, silent while we introduce ourselves and until Morgan begins to ask her questions about the note. every question flusters her further.  

eventually, the rest of the team comes in to hear her story, and it's clear that the unsub is committing the murders on what they believe is her behalf. once she realizes this, though, she gets overwhelmed and excuses herself abruptly. a few of us glance between each other. Lila's manager, Michael, looks like he's about to go after her, but Hotch asks him to stay for a few more questions and asks one of us to find her instead.

something in my chest flares when Reid volunteers and practically runs out of the room. my eyebrows pull together in confusion and I sense Morgan looking at me, but I don't say anything. instead, I turn my attention to Hotch. 

neither of them return for a good ten minutes, and when they do, we're packing up. tonight will be spent putting together a preliminary profile and tomorrow we'll have to figure out what to do. I've been less on my toes than I'd like, too preoccupied by how quickly he offered to find her.

she seems better, if not slightly jumpy. Spencer says something to her and she walks over to Michael. he puts his arm around her shoulder comfortingly. the three of them talk to Hotch in hushed tones and I try to keep from staring.  

I'm throwing out the remains of my coffee when Spencer sidles up next to me as if nothing happened. we walk out with the rest of the team into the night air. 

"they gave her a security detail, right?" he asks me.

"of course," I wonder what he said to her to calm her down. Spencer has never seemed inclined to console a stranger. "how'd you convince her to come back inside?"

"well, I told her that this person likely started out as a stalker and that these cases usually either culminate in the stalker killing themselves or the object of their desire." he states. my eyebrows fly up.

"you said that?"

"yes," he pauses when he sees my expression. "what?"

"nothing. I'm just surprised she looked so calm when she came back." I shake my head.

"I also said we'd assign 24/7 security to her in the meantime, so that might have helped." 

I adjust my bag further up my shoulder. "that was nice of you, to go make sure she was okay."

Spencer smiles at me and any strangeness I was feeling before melts away. something is seriously wrong with me; here he was, just being a nice person, and I was making it about myself. 

"are you okay?" he breaks the quiet between us. the team is talking behind us about the case, but I realize that I haven't said anything for a good thirty seconds. 

"I think I'm just tired. that coffee was undrinkable." 

he laughs. "do you wanna get a new one?"

"are any places still open?" I look at the silky sky above, starless but punctured by the lights of office buildings all around. 

"it's 8pm. I'm sure there are." a small grin tugs at his lips, this one rather teasing. I roll my eyes before turning to tell the team we'll meet them at the cars in a few minutes. 

we find a small café about two blocks down, filled with twinkling lights and Frank Ocean playing over the speakers. there are plants crammed in every windowsill, their leaves taking on a deep green in the dim, romantic light. 

a couple people are situated at the tables. I peruse the fancy options as Spencer grumbles next to me about how stupid it is to have this many choices when ordering coffee. 

"you know, I usually disagree when people complain about 'the good old days,' but I really do agree in this particular case." he tells me. 

"yeah?" I suppress a grin.

"yes." he folds his arms over his chest. "banana coffee sounds terrible. who is ordering that?"

the person in front of us finishes up and leaves.

"me." I say as I step forward to the register, half out of spite and half curiosity. frankly, it does sound terrible, but this café looks popular so maybe it'll be good.

I can feel Spencer's eyes boring into me as I order, then his pointed, "just a medium black coffee, please," when it's his turn. 

"are you paying together or separately?" the barista asks us. 

"I am not paying for that." Spencer turns to me. I laugh and hand over my card. 

"together, thanks." 

he shakes his head at me as we walk to the other end of the bar to wait for our drinks. 

"you're gonna regret that flavor, I'm calling it now." he says offhandedly. 

"be nice to me, Reid. I paid for your drink."

"I didn't ask you to!" his voice goes up an octave. I nudge his shoulder, and, to my surprise, he nudges mine back. heat rushes into my cheeks and then our coffees are on the counter and I taste it as we walk back out into the street.

it takes everything in me not to wrinkle my entire face up. 

"how is it?" Spencer is watching me intently. I can see the triumphant smile threatening to break out, the light in his eyes making me feel a bit better about earlier. 

"it's good." I lie through my teeth. Reid sees right through me, however, and grabs the cup out of my hand. to my astonishment, he takes a sip with the same straw I was using. he nearly gags.

"oh, that's bad." he laughs and it sounds almost like a giggle, which is infectious. 

"it tastes like if someone took a banana and straight espresso and then smashed them together without any sugar." 

"it just tastes like tar." 

"will you pay me $5 to finish this?" I hold it up like a trophy, like drinking it will be a feat. 

"absolutely not," he shakes his head. "I'm not paying for your mistake."

the rest of our walk back to the car is lighthearted, our laughter floating up into the city air like the heat. Spencer brags about how delicious his coffee is, how unmarred by silly flavors, and I feel our bodies growing closer together. 

the sidewalk is somewhat wide, but we're walking pretty much shoulder to shoulder, our hands brushing once by accident. I feel like a middle schooler, the way I withdraw my touch as if it's shocked me. it's hard not to notice, though, when Spencer is usually someone who prefers more space. here he is, knuckles grazing mine while we chat. 

our friendship is so new, yet so much has happened since we met. this job compresses time and fills every day with something freshly horrifying. there's something about working with Reid that makes me feel like we've known each other forever, though. I spend so much time with him that I'm now highly aware of all his habits and tendencies, what the different pitches of his voice mean and the secret preferences he harbors about the most minute things. 

something about it is terrifying, how easily he has threaded himself into my life, but thrilling as well. all I can think about is how after I showered at his apartment and fell asleep on that plush couch, how I woke up to the sound of him washing our mugs in the kitchen sink and didn't want to be anywhere else in the world.  

he sticks close to my side until we see the team standing by the cars, their moods much more austere than our own. for a second, I had forgotten why we're here. 

"ready to go?" Prentiss looks between the two of us. 

"yeah, we're good." I find myself moving away from Spencer, realizing how inappropriate our chumminess right now might seem. 

I can feel Spencer's eyes on me as I go to get into the car, mine meeting his right before I get inside. I bite down on my tongue. 

...

the next day is just as sunny as the previous one when we arrive at the studio where Lila is shooting for her television show. everyone around us is moving in a hurry, the chaos of which I can tell puts Spencer on edge. his attention darts between crew members and the beach setting they're using. 

"why is she even working right now?" I lean over and ask Prentiss as we make our way to Lila. she's in a bikini, sitting in a chair while Michael talks to her. as a makeup artist slides a kabuki brush over her cheek, I notice that she seems far more composed than she did last night. she laughs at something he says. 

"she said she refuses to be stuck in a hotel room until we find the guy." Emily shrugs. I raise an eyebrow but don't push it further. 

Michael leaves her when another woman comes over in a headset and hands Lila an orange envelope. they have a short conversation, but she too disappears quickly. Spencer and Emily and I approach the actress in the chair while she reads the sheet of paper that was in the envelope. her expression changes to something much more concerned. 

"Lila." Reid calls to her. she glances up and sees the three of us, smiling weakly.

"Spencer." she says his first name like they're close. 

"everything alright, Miss Archer?" Prentiss notices Lila's body language. 

"um," she hesitates. "my assistant just said this was posted on my door." 

Prentiss takes the paper from her and reads it, then passes it to Reid and me. 

"Lila-- I've always been so good to you. why would you go to the police?" is the only thing on it. 

my stomach drops. Prentiss and I share a look and I know what she's thinking before she hands the sheet back to Lila. "would we be able to go to your trailer, Miss Archer? Detective Kim is on his way here and it would be better to discuss this in a private space." 

she nods and we walk to her trailer. the inside is simple, just a couch, TV, and a vanity that also has a couple framed photos of the actress with friends and family. Spencer and I sit on the couch while Emily stands by the door. Lila has her arms crossed anxiously over her chest, silent, when Kim arrives. 

we tell them that based on the wording of the note, the stalker is likely someone she knows. at the idea of stopping her work for a little while, Lila prickles and argues that she only has one more scene to shoot. 

the woman who brought her the note earlier pops her head into the trailer and tells Lila they're ready for her on set again. she turns to all of us serenely. 

"I'm staying at work." she walks out of the trailer, leaving us sitting there. I notice Spencer's eyes following her with a surprised expression, maybe impressed. 

I clear my throat as soon as the door closes behind her. "look, I didn't want to freak her out more, but mentioning the police might mean this guy is altering his agenda." 

"what do you mean?" Kim frowns at me.

"she didn't go alone to the police." Emily finishes my thought, the one we shared when we first read the paper. she straightens. "I'm gonna go check in with Michael." 

"we'll keep an eye on her." I get off the couch.

"I'll hang back, too." Kim nods. 

we end up on the set again, waiting for Prentiss to finish up with the manager while drinking sodas. Lila is at the snack bar in a robe, making herself a cup of coffee. 

"I'm gonna go talk to her." Reid tells me. I nod and watch him go in front of one of the enormous cameras, accidentally bumping into one and apologizing profusely. 

despite myself, I watch them. she sees him coming and offers a friendly smile. his back is to me, but he's rocking slightly on his toes, his usual poor posture making him look even more awkward. I can practically feel the nervous energy crackling around him.

something twists in my stomach, but I try to brush it aside. I shouldn't be staring. there's not much else for me to do, though. I see her take a sip of the coffee, make a face, and immediately reach for his Coke. 

she asks him something, he shakes his head, and she drinks from the bottle. my jaw nearly drops. this time, I can't help gaping at the sight. it only gets worse when she tosses off her robe and walks back onto the set, looking stunning in her bikini. Spencer isn't looking at her at all, but it sets something immaturely evil off inside me. 

I toss my Sprite into the trash and go to wait somewhere in this studio that's as far as possible from them. I'm nauseated. I need to keep her in my sight as part of my job, but I'm sure Reid has that covered. 

taglist (add yourself here or lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @donald4spiderman @awritingtree @gingeraleluke @bewitchedbibliophile @xoxospencerreid @spencerreidat3am @azuriteannie @written-disasters

[notanotherreidgirl]

dom or sub spence going on a rant about how good you feel while hes fucking you

Sorry this took so long! I wanted to challenge myself with dom!spencer. I hope there was enough ranting

wc: 982

Warnings: language, blowjob, kissing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dom!spencer

Spencer had his head in his hands, conjuring up tedious mathematical and scientific concepts to try and drown you out. Planck’s constant = 6.626 x 10-34 Js. The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. The law of conservation of energy. But he couldn’t stem the melody of your voice from reaching his ears. He could hear you no matter what he did, a never ending loop playing in his mind. Your habit for whispering aloud when you read, you humming along to the radio, you addressing reporters, you asking questions during movies. And right now, you regaling a group of detectives from the local precinct with stories of your previous exploits.

He let out a shaky breath, catching Luke’s attention. He was packing away their papers with military efficiency, sorting important files and preparing things for their early morning departure tomorrow. He was supposed to be helping and he felt a twinge of guilt as Luke shut the last folder brimming with paperwork. “Hey, you ok?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. It's just -” Spencer stopped himself just as one of the detectives placed his hand on your thigh. It was like a dam burst. He was out of his seat in seconds, seeing red as he strode across the precinct and grabbed your arm. You were still talking. You were always talking. “Hey, Spence! Wait, what are you -”

All he could think was that he had enough. He dipped his head down to your ear. “You better shut that pretty mouth before I put it to work”

The effect of his words was instantaneous, your mouth snapped shut and heat pooled between your thighs. You let him guide you into one of the SUVs and slam the door shut before getting in the driver’s seat. The waves of anger radiating off of him were palpable and you felt a rush of annoyance flare up. “What the hell, Reid! You can’t just drag me around like that! Are you crazy? You don't get to manhandle me!”

“Do you ever shut up?” He parked in the motel lot and turned to face you. “You talk nonstop, Y/N! I can’t hear myself think around you. All I hear is you”

Maybe it was your earlier anger, maybe it was the pure need hammering away at your chest but instead of storming out of the car, you leaned in closer. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

He was on you in an instant, kissing you harshly. It was teeth and tongue and desperation and despite its animalistic nature, you felt your heart swell. When was the last time someone wanted you this badly?

He pulled away when the breath ran out of his lungs and you let out a soft whimper. He still had your face firmly cupped between his hands. “Are you afraid?”

You were quick to say no but he brought his hand to your neck, nimble fingers settling over your erratic pulse. Spencer raised his eyebrows, clearly pleased with the power he had over you. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “That’s not fear”

His eyes darkened with lust and he was out of the SUV in an instant, once again gripping your arm tightly. You tumbled into his room, already working on his belt as he haphazardly unbuttoned your shirt. He pushed you onto your knees by the shoulders. “You’ve got a big mouth? Use it.”

You swallowed hard at the sight of his cock, flushed and leaking precum, before licking a languid stripe up the underside and fully sinking your mouth down on it. A groan bubbled up from his throat and he fisted a hand in your hair. “Just like that, princess. You look so pretty with my cock down your throat. If I knew this is what it’d take to shut you up I’d have done it sooner.”

You flicked your eyes up to his as you swallowed around his length, moaning deeply at the tell-tale signs of his impending release. But he wasn’t done with you yet. He pulled you up by the hair and walked you back to the bed, snaking a hand up your skirt to feel your soaked core. “What do you want, princess?”

“I-I want -” you faltered, too overwhelmed to choke out a full sentence.

“I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already a complete mess.” He thumbed at your clit, teasing your entrance with a finger. “Come on, baby. Use your words. Tell me what you want”

“You! I want you, please.” That was all the permission he needed to slam into you, setting a relentless pace from the outset. “Fuck, you feel so perfect. So fucking tight. This pussy’s all you’re good for. Just a tight little cocksleeve for me to use. You were made for me, baby. Made for taking my cock.”

His words sent a jolt up your spine and you clenched around him. You hadn’t expected him to be so vocal and certainly not so crass. He continued as if he could sense the effect he had on you. “You like that? You like hearing what you do to me? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this? God, you’re even better than I imagined. You feel like heaven, baby.”

You gasped as he shifted, changing his angle so he hit you even deeper and bringing his lips to your ear. “You belong to me, princess. This pussy belongs to me, you understand? You’re mine.”

It was too much - he was reaching places you didn’t even know existed and his thumb rubbing tight circles over your clit coupled with his voice had you shaking as your release washed over you. He followed right after, giving a few more thrusts before flooding you with warmth.

After a moment spent catching your breath, you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Who’s the loud one now?”

Blurb Masterlist

[juniorgman187]

Be Forever Young (Reid Fluff Fic)

Summary: After Penelope’s resignation from the BAU, she attempts to set up her tech protégé, Reader, with Reader’s intellectual match yet much older counterpart - Dr. Spencer Reid. 

A/N: The POV switches between Reader and Spencer, just use context clues to detect who the narrator is.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: 21 year age gap, headcannon proposal Playlist: Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny Word Count: 6.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Prologue

Events like these weren’t exceedingly rare. They weren’t anything like Halley’s Comet, by any means, where it only happens once in your lifetime - if you’re lucky. But they weren’t exactly sunrises - something that you can count on occurring every day without fail. 

The best celestial phenomenon I could compare it to are blue moons. Rare enough to still have an element of surprise when they came, but not so rare that I should never expect them. 

These ‘blue moons’ are actually the events in which I meet an intellectual match. 

It’s not too often that I find a mind quite like mine, so you’ll forgive me for the reaction it elicits to watch them transcend the physical level and connect with me on the psychological one. There’s only been a handful of people who’ve ever had the exact standard of aptitude to be permissible into this metaphysical world with me, but now - there’s a handful and one. 

The newest addition to the list is her. 

_ _ _

Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia is nearly impossible. Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia about Dr. Spencer Reid is impossible. 

I couldn’t tell you when the first time she brought him up was, but I could probably tell you just how many times since then she’s mentioned him. 

A trillion. At least. 

For months on end, he was the only thing she would talk to me about. Morning, noon, and night. Every single day she’d gush about him with the same unrelenting zeal as she had the day before and the day before that. It was both scary and impressive how she never seemed to run out of good things to say about him. 

“You would just die for his apartment. It’s got this super chic dark academia thingy going on. You’d be really into that,” she would say. Or something to that effect. I was never really listening. 

Not that I wasn’t interested in learning about Dr. Reid - I was very interested in him.

As a superior. 

I first learned of him when he taught my Psych 101 class. Freshman year me was simply enthralled with him as a speaker, probably due to the charm of his awkward humor. I found it eerily relatable and touching, in a way. That was probably my favorite class, minus the assholes who made it less than enjoyable at times. (That’s a story for later).

The next interaction I had with him happened not even a year later when he came back after temporarily teaching to sit in on a philosophy class. Even though he was only auditing the lecture, whereas I was enrolled in the course, he ended up sitting in the seat right beside me. Had he not been gifted with an eidetic memory - a fact I found out during one of my obsessive research sessions - I doubt he would’ve even remembered sitting next to me.

Our shared field of work helped to bring us back together repeatedly throughout college. I would run into him at seminars, workshops, once even at a library where we were both looking for the same book. 

But for the most part, our relationship was parasocial. It largely consisted of me learning from him at a distance. I would use his brilliant research to support my own assignments, read the books he recommended, audit the classes he would teach. 

Rather than accurately interpreting my very limited, very professional connection to Dr. Reid, Penelope was deliberately using it as ammunition for her arsenal of reasons why I should consider dating him. 

“You guys are basically already friends, and nothing is cuter than the friends-to-lovers trope!” Now that she actually did say, and the only reason I remember it verbatim was it was so outrageous I couldn’t not remember it. 

And probably because she just said it to me right now. 

“We’re not friends! We’re ... acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will.” My attempts to gain distance from Penelope and this topic of conversation were crashing and burning. The more I tried to walk away from her, the faster she would chase me. It was inconceivable how she managed to do that and continue to pelt me with her perky persistence. 

“Even better! You know I’m no stranger to workplace romances.”

That I did. One Derek Morgan or one Luke Alvez ring a bell?

“Dr. Reid and I don’t work together,” I reminded her, if only to burst her bubble of insanity. 

“Exactly my point! If you two don’t work together, then there’s nothing keeping you apart.” 

I was stopped dead in my tracks, almost causing Penelope to trip since she was right on my heels. 

“Nothing? Really? Try 21 years.” 

That surely kept us apart. 

Our age gap was one of those glaring disparities Penelope couldn’t wave away with her magic wand. Frankly, it wasn’t an age gap so much as it was an age Grand Canyon. He was a whole person of legal drinking age older than me!

Hell - our age gap itself was older than me!

Maybe there weren’t any contracts or agreements or supervisors to keep us apart, but there was still one significant thing doing that. 

Time. Arguably the most important thing you needed to get right for a relationship to work. 

If there were any chance that he and I were good together, that was squandered by our divergence in age. 

Right person, wrong time ... but wrong time by more than two decades.

I could see the smallest fragment of hope wither away in Garcia’s eyes, and it actually hurt to have known that I caused that. Her voice was more solemn when she said, “You don’t have to date him, I just want you to go on a date. Get to know each other better. Who knows? You might finally graduate from colleagues to BFF’s.” 

Not that I was seriously considering the possibility of growing closer to Dr. Reid, but there was one question lingering in my mind.

“Does he even want to go on this date? Have you asked him how he feels about it?” 

Part of why I was wondering was on the off chance that she’d tell me he had the same objections towards this that I did, which would be good news for me since it would mark my reluctance as a sound judgment. If there was anyone whose opinion was worth something, it was his, right? After all, he was the provable genius in the same compromising position as me. 

“Trust me, he’s been dying to do this.” In spite of her preface to trust her, I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure if she was suggesting that he’d been dying to go on a date with me or if he’d been dying to go on a date in general.

No offense to him, but I guessed it was the latter, and if that was the case, he was only being a team player because she hadn’t told him it was me she was setting him up with. Already suspecting that I’d probe further to navigate through her vagueness, she cut in with one last Hail Mary. “One date! That’s all!”

Whether you believe me or not, 100% the only reason why I said what I said next was to put an end to this madness. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Maybe 99.99%.

_ _ _

I never knew how I could lose so much time. Sure, if anyone asked, I could probably account for everything I’d done in my day, second by second. But still, there was this cloudiness, a fog, inhabiting my brain, casting this haze on whatever else dwelled in my mind, too. 

I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 4 seconds at a time, and while that wasn’t incredibly concerning for the average human, it was disconcerting for me. 

What was going on? 

What is going on?

“What’s going on?” 

Suddenly, a hand began to wave in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo? Anybody in there?” JJ wondered aloud, causing me to realize it was her voice that asked the question from before. 

“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head to regain some clarity, but that did me no good. My foggy brain still remained. It goes without saying my words were worth nothing as well. JJ saw right through me in a way that never failed to scare me shitless. I could never conjure up a lie good enough to follow that look she’d give me. So I settled for the truth. The question that cast the haziness in my brain to begin with. 

“What do you think about me dating again?” 

If I thought that first look was bad, then the one she was giving me now was something of a nightmare. At least with the first, I knew what she was thinking. With this one, I hadn’t a clue. 

To relieve us from some of the insufferable silence, I found myself speaking again in my defense. “Garcia mentioned something earlier about setting me up with someone and it got me thinking.”

Thinking about Max that is. 

Being my most recent girlfriend, it made sense why she was freshest in my mind. That being said, we’ve been broken up for 14 months, which in any other context would seem like more than enough time to start dating again, but therein lies the catch. 

We didn’t just break up. She said “no” when I asked her to marry me, which, if you ask me, is one hell of a way to break up.

So from that perspective, it obviously begs the question: is 14 months too fast to move on from something like that? 

JJ sharply inhaled. “Well, are you ready to start dating again?”

I still didn’t have an answer for that myself. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook on how long you have to wait until it’s socially acceptable-”

“Lemme stop you right there, Spence,” She placed her hand on top of mine. “You can’t just do whatever statistics or studies or science say is right all the time. You not only need to be more in tune with your own needs but accepting of them, too. Screw what anyone else has to say about you dating again - including Socrates, including Einstein, including Aristotle ... including me. Do whatever you think is acceptable by your standards - not society’s. Do what you wanna do and I’ll support that.”

There was something special about having JJ’s approval. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted. 

“I’m ready.”

Born ready, as Penelope herself would say.

_ _ _

I was starting to get suspicious that maybe I had an invisible string attached to me and on the other end of that string was Penelope. It was the only explanation as to how she managed to trail behind me at an isochronal pace. Perfectly equidistant, perfectly equal intervals of time. Must’ve been some form of magic that she was able to synchronize that connection for as long as she did as we pranced around the office, basically chasing me.

“Okay, I know the date isn’t until Saturday, but I really think we need to amp up your wardrobe choices ... like stat.”

Hearing that I was seeing my superior still didn’t settle well with me. I don’t think I could ever get used to the thought. 

I should’ve been offended at her suggestion to change my clothing taste as it implied my stylistic choices weren’t up to par, but a part of me, a very small part of me, knew she was right. And just because I wasn’t keen on the idea of going on a date with Spencer didn’t mean I didn’t want to look nice for him for it.

“I’m assuming you’ve got some ideas in mind,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing that’s precisely why she brought it up.

“See! You are a genius! Exactly why you and Spencer are meant to be together!” Her exclamation was just as loud as it was outlandish. 

“Alright, calm down sparky,” I shot a warning look. “It’s just one date - we’re not soulmates.” 

Then, talking in the quietest voice I didn’t think Penelope was capable of speaking with, she said, “Not yet.” 

I knew the minute I showed even the littlest bit of interest in Penelope’s fashion guidance, I’d end up draped in ruffles, sequins, glitter, tulle, rhinestones, or all of the above. Nothing again Penelope’s personal style - it’s just not mine. 

I was scared to ask, but I had to know. “So what were you thinking?” 

Before my very eyes, Penelope’s constantly-there smile transformed, something akin to the mischievous grin of the Cheshire Cat. “I was thinking …” 

In a Mary Poppins-esque fashion, Penelope produced a dress that in no feasible reality should have been able to fit within that little Hello Kitty side bag. 

I suppose it must’ve been absolutely backbreaking for Penelope to refrain from choosing a multicolor or at least pattern-riddled dress, so as compensation for the fact that it was only one singular color throughout, it had to be a bold one. 

Red. 

“Not too shabby, right?” Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, knowing she’d made a good choice. 

And a part of me actually died saying this, but it was pretty perfect. 

_ _ _ 

My life didn’t flash before my eyes, per se, the moment I finally arrived at the delicatessen. It was more like a very specific, singular memory had flashed before my eyes. 

That story for later? This is the one. 

Psych 101 was my best class in Freshman year ... by a long shot. Come rain, wind, or snow, I was always excited to go. It was a standout course on its own, but not because it was terribly spectacular or the most fascinating subject in the world, but more so because of how it changed my own person. It challenged me, like all worthwhile things do. 

There were more judgmental meatheads - boys, if you will - than not, who would jump down my throat for being a smart ass or a teacher’s pet if I so much as answered one of Dr. Reid’s questions. Par for the course, really. 

As a result, I had a proclivity to avoid raising my hand. It wasn’t that I was hyper-fixated on managing my reputation, just that participating wasn’t worth the eventual harassment from my dimwitted classmates. 

Nonetheless, one day, I felt compelled to answer Dr. Reid when he asked what our thoughts were about the sampled, pretense manifesto.

No one else was jumping at the chance to speak, perhaps they were just as cowardly as I was, and it was clear that he was going to stand there waiting until someone finally would. The silence was painfully awkward for everyone and so I felt obligated, as a student who was actually enrolled in the class for credit and not just to audit like 90% of the other girls here, to break it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, my hand hesitantly inched up into the air until it floated just high enough above the student in front of me’s head. As soon as I knew he saw it, I let it plunge straight back down. 

“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?”

I could already feel the dirty looks and snide comments coming before I even said a word. 

“I know we’re all collectively referring to this unsub as a man, and while that might just be a general assumption or Freudian slip perhaps ... I think the language is steeped in betrayal and contempt. And it would be ignorant not to notice how it reads more like the wrath of a woman scorned than your typical jilted male lover.” 

“Lover?” Someone two rows back snickered quietly, clearly to mock my choice of words. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Brad who had said that. Nevertheless, Dr. Reid was impressed with my answer. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he nodded his head. If he had heard the commentary of one Brad Sterling, he made no visceral reaction to it.

With an extended hand, palm facing up, he gestured for me to, “Please. Stand up.”

I fumbled my way up and out of my seat to possibly delay the shit I’d get for this mere action.

“That, ladies and gentleman, is what it looks like to have courage,” He underlined his words with a grand flourish of his hand in my direction. “Putting yourself on the line even in the event you’ll be mocked and ridiculed or deemed wrong. That’s something you’ll need if you are seriously considering being part of the BAU, or the FBI at any capacity.”

My face was flushed from the acclaim he was showering me with. Suddenly, I was glad I volunteered. 

Taking me completely by surprise, Dr. Reid wasn’t done yet.

“So, Mr. Sterling,” He began, directly calling out the boy in the back who without a doubt made the remark. I wouldn’t have had any reason to believe he heard it since his attention never diverted away from me long enough to catch the comment, much less the culprit. I wonder if he’d heard all the times Brad made jokes at my expense. Was he finally at his wits end with the sarcasm? “Make fun all you want, but might I suggest that if you like a girl, you do the opposite of that.” 

His sickly sweet drawl was followed by a short wink at me as if to say ‘I have your back’, and I was lucky to have already been in the process of sitting back down because my knees would’ve given out underneath me from the sheer exhilaration of his praise. 

The thought never once crossed my mind that Brad was so fixated on me because he had a crush, but it all made sense once it did. And if I didn’t know any better, Dr. Reid only humiliated him and brought it up because the realization dawned on him, too.

Was it possible that Dr. Reid was ... jealous?

In the spirit of complete transparency, that suspicion may have lit the tiniest wildfire imaginable in my chest. A wildfire that, even now, has yet to extinguish. Perhaps that little flame is the 0.01% of the reason I said yes. I could only imagine what kind of omnipotence it would soon gain if this date went well. 

If he could light such an enduring kindle with simple praise, think about what would happen if he smiled at me. If he laughed at my jokes. If he held my hand. 

If he kissed me.  

Dr. Reid’s validation would be something I actively sought from all walks of life, I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how far that desire would take me.

I would have never guessed it would lead me here. 

Standing in front of a fancy restaurant in a pretty red dress with the tenuous hope that the professor inside might just like it so much that he’ll end up liking the girl wearing it, too.

_ _ _ 

No matter how many times I adjusted the bouquet of poppies, they sat perpetually crooked on the table. Much like the dark gray tie around my neck that tightened around my throat with every passing second. I had to keep messing with it to loosen the noose-like grip it had on me. Who knew if it actually was becoming more restricting or it was the flourishing bundle of nerves in my stomach that made it harder to breathe. 

I was never very good at lying in wait patiently. Especially if I was expecting something. Now that I was expecting someone? I could say with perfect clarity - I was not good at waiting. 

I don’t wanna seem the way I do 

Every time the door opened, my eyes flashed to it instantaneously. And every time it wasn’t her, a little part of me was disappointed. It was still too early to say for certain that she was standing me up, but my mind was doing what it did best. It wandered. There was nothing else to do after all. 

Except maybe adjust those blood orange poppies one more time.

I’d picked them out specifically because Penelope slipped in a not-so-subtle comment about her dress being “a perfect match to the color of papaverales” - her words exactly. I thought if she went through that much trouble to find a color coordinated plant and say the scientific name for me to decode, it was worth picking up a bouquet of them on the way. 

It was only the most ironic occurrence in the world that when I went to rearrange them one last time, I devoted my full attention to the action, missing the very moment I was on the lookout for the past hour and a half. 

I didn’t even see her until the red poppies camouflaged into the identically colored setting of her dress. 

Then there she was.

All the disappointment in the world was worth that first time I saw her with fresh eyes. 

I was dumbstruck for a moment, long enough that it warranted an apology for not standing up sooner. 

“(Y/n)! Hi!” I accidentally squealed. I couldn’t control myself, let alone control the pitch of my voice apparently. 

I could see, in her, youthful naivete where, in others, I saw their age. She paradoxically had not aged a minute, and yet a new womanhood was piercing through her ultimately adolescent appearance. 

“Hi, Dr. Reid,” She said through a laugh and a smile, shaking my hand politely and professionally. She was greeting me like I was still her professor and she’d just happen to run into me on an errand. Next, she’d be attempting small-talk for as long as it took for me to let her go. 

Unfortunately for her, I had no plans for that. 

But I’m confident when I’m with you 

“Please, it’s just Spencer,” I reminded her, hoping to break down that governing image of me she surely maintained. 

“Spencer,” She tried again; doing it more to be obedient to my instruction than to satisfy her own desire. It sounded so unnatural to her, just as it did to me. I found it adorable, actually. It seemed like she was breaking this unspoken, and very much illusionary rule to say my first name. “It’s nice to see you again,” She added after I pulled out her chair for her.

“Is it?” I asked when I rounded the table to get to my seat. “I get the feeling you’re a little disappointed.” The only reason I pointed it out was that it was true, not just that I’d observed the notion grow more poignant in her face for the past minute.

“Not at all,” She shook her head, which luckily for me, drew a line of congruence between her body language and verbal language. At least, she was being truthful. “It’s just that I’m sort of embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” I repeated in astonishment, unable to cultivate a list of reasons that would justify her feeling that way. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to provoke that emotion, and it nearly broke me to consider her internal being substantiating it. 

“Embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I can’t find a more accurate one for what I’m feeling,” She shied away from my eyes when she lowered her head as she spoke. 

“You could try to explain it to me?” I offered gently. It took an overwhelming amount of self-restraint to not offer my hand with it. It would’ve been so easy to slide my hand across the threshold to enter her territory of the table, but who knows if doing so would just make her that much more uncomfortable. 

“Well for one thing, I don't really go on dates,” From this alone, I could already relate to her enough to laugh at the fact. “Don’t laugh at me! You know how dangerous first dates can be,” She swatted her hand in my direction to chastise me. 

“I do! I do! I think it’s really good that you’re protecting yourself to the point of avoiding dates,” I was teasing the implication that she wasn’t asked to go on very many, which was thankfully delivered well enough to make her laugh again. 

“Hey! Many people have wanted to go on dates with me, thank you very much. You included.” 

“Me included.” I nodded in approval. We sat in a short period of silence while we exchanged one soulful glance, borne from the insinuation of what I just said. 

“And for another ... I respect you too much as a figure of authority to see you in that way.” 

_ _ _ 

“In what way?” 

Rather than tossing me a lifeline, he was feeding me to the sharks. Forcing me to dive into the deep end. He wanted to see me struggle to stay afloat in the sea of his sticky toffee eyes. He knew I'd get suspended in them when he gave me that look. How much I’d be willing to get lost in them just so I could wander in the depths of his honeyed orbs for a little bit longer. 

That look ...

“You don’t find it weird?” This was the most honesty I could’ve demonstrated. 

“Find what weird?” For someone with such a high IQ, you’d think he’d be quicker on his feet. 

“This! You - me. On a date!” I gestured to the space between us. “You’re ... well frankly, Spencer, you’re old enough to be my father.” 

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He genuinely cared about the answer.

“Only in theory. Not in actual life,” was the most precise response I could give.

“So what is making you uncomfortable?” Again, I could tell my answer mattered to him. 

“You were my professor once, and now I’m just supposed to go on a date with you and see you as my equal when I’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you, putting you on a pedestal? Do you know how much pressure that puts on me? To be perfect?”

“Who says you have to be perfect? Who says you’re aren’t already?” 

That one caught me off guard. I had to gulp down the lump of shock. 

“You think I’m perfect?” 

“That, or you’re pretty close to it.” 

Lately all I feel is bad and bruised

I could’ve smiled, I could’ve thanked him, I could’ve fallen at his feet and thrown my dignity down there along with it, but I just laughed. I laughed. 

“That’s ridiculous! You barely know me.” 

“You’re wrong,” He simply replied with a firm shake of his head and a cavalier sip at his drink. It showed just how confident he was in his answer. How cocky he was. 

“How am I wrong?” 

He cleared his throat as though he were preparing to deliver the world’s greatest speech. Then, he leaned forward, motioning with his fingers for me to do the same. 

“If I’m remembering correctly, which you know I am, you were the student who had the gall to raise your hand and correct me on my gender identification of the unsub, right?” 

The second the sentimental thought, ‘aww he remembered’, came into my head, it was soon followed by, of course, he did, idiot. Eidetic memory, remember?

Tired of tripping on my shoes

“What does that have to do with me being perfect? Or so you claim?”

He was piercing deep into my eyes now, his gaze overwhelming my senses and sending shockwaves akin to the feeling of butterflies everywhere … and I mean everywhere.

“Bravery is the audacity to be unhindered by failures, and to walk with freedom, strength, and hope, in the face of things unknown.” 

I recognized the quote as one of Morgan Harper Nichols, but the words went right to my chest like they were his own. 

That damn wildfire just got a whole lot bigger. 

“I’ve always thought about how if I could be unfazed by failure or even just the prospect of it, if I could just be strong enough or have enough hope to face what I couldn’t predict, I’d be set. I’d be golden,” He paused. “I’d be perfect ... but you? You, little one, have already got that figured out. So whether that means you’re perfect on your own because of your bravery or you're a perfect match for someone fainthearted like me, is up for you to decide. Whichever interpretation of being perfect you choose would be correct, but you should know - I meant both either way.”

But when he loves me I feel like I’m floating

When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody

Even when we fade eventually to nothing

You will always be my favorite form of loving

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked when he finally refound his voice. 

“Since the minute I walked in.” I replied after refinding mine. 

_ _ _ 

“You always take girls to your apartment on the first date, Doctor?” Asking this in the name of taking a jab at him was the most clever way I could think to conceal my underlying motive of trying to gauge how giddy I could let myself feel about the fact that he’d taken me to his ‘super chic dark academia’ themed residence - Penelope’s words, remember?

“Well, in my abundant dating history,” He sarcastically began, “I can’t say I ever have, no. You’d be the first.”

That shot another quick bolt of lightning to the wildfire in my heart that I’m ashamed to admit made the heat reinvigorate. The flame must’ve been too much for my chest to contain so it had to relocate to my face, where my cheeks were left to burn under his gaze and thanks to his admission. 

I was the first. 

He must’ve seen the glint localizing on my countenance and decided to speak on it. “Why does that amuse you?”

“I don’t know,” I dumbly but truthfully replied. He didn’t need any more information to get his answer, though. Because even if I didn’t know what amused me about being his first, I never denied that it did, and that was more than enough confirmation for him. 

“You promise to be here when I come back?” He wagged a cautionary finger at me like it might persuade me to stay and hold me accountable if I didn’t. 

Spencer needed to go into his room to collect an item that ‘shall not be named’ but was apparently essential for our super secret plans tonight (secret to even me) and he was leaving me in the living room while he did so. I guess being the initial girl he took home on a first date was okay, but being the initial girl he took into his bedroom on a first date was crossing a line. 

That was alright with me, though. I was in this for the long haul.

“I promise I pose no flight risk, Your Honor,” I taunted with a coy tone. “But I can’t promise I won’t snoop around some.” Hey, at least I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 

“Snoop around all you want,” He laughed ruefully, demonstrating an openness I quite envied and admired. “You’ll probably learn a lot about me that way. And you won’t even have to talk to me to do that!” I knew he was only saying that out of self-deprecating tendencies he harbored, but I couldn’t help feeling that a small part of him actually believed that I wasn’t interested in talking to him.

“Spencer, you know I do like talking to you right?” I caught him just before he ran into his room. Already halfway in the door, I could still catch the megawatt smile on his face. 

“So stay then,” His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We can talk all you want when I get back.” 

The door closed, and then suddenly reopened to let just his face through, a face that said, ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

After a few minutes of loudly sorting through his room, I heard the sanctimonious cry of victory. “Found it!” 

I could hear the little pad of his feet and he happily trotted out of the room. “Ta-da! My stargazing kit.” He said it as though he were introducing the basket he was holding to me, and me to it. Like it was a real person he wanted me to know. I almost felt obliged to say, ‘Hi stargazing kit! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m (y/n)!’

“Let’s go,” He smiled, reaching for my hand. 

I unabashedly took it, because although it meant that I was truly leaving his apartment, I had a very strong feeling that I would be back here again one day. 

_ _ _ 

We were lying there on this big quilted comforter that was stashed away in that stargazing kit of his, staring up at the sky, drunk on the sound of our occasional fits of laughter. 

“It’s Earth Day, you know that?” I wondered aloud in a state of complete euphoria.

“I actually did,” He said through a sheepish laugh, almost as if he was admitting the knowledge of it against his own will to protect my fragility. 

From out of nowhere, there was a small tug on the skirt of my dress. I looked down to find Spencer’s hand there, playing with the fabric until it lay perfectly on my leg. 

I coughed to possibly relieve the tension brewing in my loins. “So then you know the Lyrid meteor shower is tonight,” I moved the tiniest bit closer to lean into his touch.

“At exactly 4:33 a.m,” He moved too.

“Is that why you brought me here? To watch the shooting stars? To make a wish?” I thought for a second that I would appear exceedingly childish - more so than I already did being 21 years his junior. But he didn’t judge me at all for the kid-like notion of making a wish on a shooting star or the implication that I still believed in those things. 

In fact, I piqued his curiosity, telling by the way he moved only his head to the side to watch my reaction. “Say I did. What would you wish for?” 

In the throws of dreamy elation, I softly murmured the only honest answer. “To be older. But not the unfulfilling 9 to 5, loveless marriage, ‘I do my taxes for fun’ older. I want to be old in the ways that the stars and the sky are old. I want to be infinite.” 

“...To be infinite.” He whispered my wish back, sounding sort of in awe of me. 

Just then, the overhead horizon grew larger. With no buildings or people to block the view, it was just us, the stars, and the sky. I could actually feel that I was lying on a planet. It was so wide. So infinite. 

“Can I hold your hand?” I asked softly, in a manner so vulnerable it scared me.

Without any words or hesitation, he put my hand in his.

“The universe seems so big right now. I just needed something to hold onto.” I explained quietly, practically with the hopes that he wouldn’t hear me. But he heard.

“I’m here.”

We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two people, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. We weren’t divided by power, or age, or space. We were ourselves and no one else. 

My eyes fluttered shut again and a smile stretched across my face. “Stargazing was a good idea.”

The world and the sky and the stars and I - we were all infinite. I couldn’t have felt bigger in my own body. In the best way possible, I was taking up so much space. I was occupying the earth. I was made up of matter. I mattered. 

Just as I began to open my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a fading shooting star. Though I had wished to be older, I still felt like a child. Then it hit me. I didn’t feel older because I wasn’t older.

I was infinite. 

Yes, I was a child, but not in the pinch your cheeks, bottles and pacifiers, babyish way. I was a child in the ‘you have a life full of possibilities ahead of you’ way.

You are young. He tells me with his eyes. And that is a good thing. Be forever young. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

If you’re on this taglist, I strongly suggest commenting, reblogging, or liking! 

CLICK HERE TO JOIN A TAGLIST

complete taglist: @muffin-cup @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person @masumiyetimziyanoldu @dreamer-writer-fangirl @kalamitykait @jinxy175 @apolloroid​ @spenxerslut​ @you-sunshine​​ 

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

checkmate

summary: where y/n and spencer live in a world of soulmates; but how magical can it really be when the last words of your lover are the only indication of their existence.

word count: 7,054                                                                                               reading time aprox: 26 mins

warnings: character death, angst

a/n: this is my comeback fic, I hope you like it. I made sure to make it extra angsty to compensate for my disappearance :) also this fic can be read by anyone!

masterlist

Chess is a meticulous endeavor, not only in its cold and calculated nature, but also in the player’s ability to detect insecurity flash across their opponents' eyes, the unconscious idiosyncrasies that foretell future moves, and the slow descent into hopelessness that disintegrates the former’s conviction. Most will point out the cruelty of the game, how callous it must be knowing your end eight moves before it happens. However, others will oppose this notion as it is the game; one must lose to win.

It’s all a matter of who plays their pieces right.  

Before that pivotal moment, players can only maneuver through a black and white arena. Fingertips would drum in anticipation while the other would hover over their pieces, striding across the board with purpose. Regardless of the disparity between the players’ experience or skill, there is always one factor, unmoved by player attributes, that is not a disadvantage nor luxury for either party: time.  

Even in the checkered plane, nothing will matter. The players will cease to move, forced to end the game by the lack of time. This mechanism in nature acts as a failsafe if either individual is unable to conclude the game. In other words, there are only two outcomes: winning the game by will or letting time take that will away from you.  

However, what is not noticed is the growing ache in the winner’s chest, disappointment beginning to fester inside of them because of their loss in deciding. In that split realization, the winner is placed on an equal plane as the loser, wondering if they ever really won at all.  

This middle plane is beautiful and tragic simultaneously—maybe the beauty is in the tragedy. But as my palm leaves a bloodied handprint pressed against Spencer’s chest, all I can see is the world around me turning red.  

Please be okay, please be okay for me

My mouth would silently mutter in tandem with his desperate and reaching touches, a mantra I convinced myself could surpass time, all while knowing my will was seized from me the moment Spencer uttered the words imprinted at my hip.  

-

October 27th

2 days before  

Water vapor collected around the coffee mug pressed to my lips. Although it’s ironic to call it a ‘coffee’ mug considering it was filled to the brim with scalding tea. The tips of my fingers and the skin of my palms tingled at the heat given off. My thoughts drifted to the explanation of the first law of thermodynamics that Spencer had kindly explained during the walk home from the night before.

  An unconscious smile brushed over my lips briefly, reminiscing the blissful moments of the team gathered around a bar table after finishing up a briefing about a local case. A warm cloud of content passed through my chest while a lightness traveled from the bottoms of my feet to the summit of my forehead. The herbal tea traveling down my esophagus countered the cold nipping of the autumn air, bringing a welcome equilibrium to my wellbeing.  

I shrugged the knitted blanket over my shoulders further, staring into the calming view that the apartment window provided. Across from the building was a small, abandoned park. Most of the neighbors had steered clear of the area as it didn’t meet anyone’s aesthetic standards—well, except for mine. 

 Half of the trees have lost their leaves, counting down the days to winter. The park benches were covered with tangled vines, even some lacking required wood boards. In summary, the place was an overgrown jungle that no one was willing to inhabit. In result, the once communal area was condemned by the normal folk for being ‘too dead.’ However, I would oppose those who claim the lack of life in the park considering life is not only just living, but it is to invite death.  

In my observation of the park, a soft reflection suddenly appeared beside the yellow oak trees. In my peripheral, I can see my roommate creeping up behind me with his limbs moving catlike. I bit my bottom lip to conceal the amused huff threatening to escape me, instead settling to blowing over the steam rising from my cup.  

Just before I saw his head bobble over my shoulder, arms stretched out above me, I whipped around his lanky figure and ducked under his arm. “You know for an agent; I expected a better performance.” An inaudible yelp interrupted the fit of giggles I was in as some of the tea spilled onto my blanket. “Now look what you’ve done! Do you know how hard it is to get dark liquids off cotton?”  

“Just some hydrogen peroxide will do the trick,” Spencer shrugged, insisting to pull off the semi-damp blanket off my shoulders. “Plus, you messed up my bit!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I was living with a five-year-old,” I teased, nudging him.

  Spencer craned his neck to the side, letting the sore tendons and muscles stretch out from just waking up. All without forgetting to let out an obnoxious yawn in addition to his exaggeratedly extended arms. “I’ll have you know that this five-year-old has three PhDs and three bachelors,” he boasted.  

“...and daddy issues.”  

Before I can find a way to defend myself, the same blanket that brought me solace previously was transformed into an unmerciful whip. Spencer chased me around the couch until I slipped and toppled over the cushions, landing on the throw pillows. I buried my head into the leather arm, shutting my eyes, while I replicated the nature of Spencer’s antics by emitting ridiculous snores. 

 “You can’t touch me while I’m sleeping,” I murmured, feigning my slow lull to slumber. “It’s socially unacceptable.” During my spiel, Spencer had playfully grabbed my ankles and dragged me to a sitting position.  

“SPENCER!” I gasped, clutching one of the pillows in hand and smacking him over the head with it. “You do not handle people like that! No wonder why you also have momm-”  

Spencer’s palm gently nudged me back onto the couch mid-sentence, leaving my frame to hit the cushions with a loud thud. A boom of laughter filled the empty space of my chest, my breath thinning as dopamine jumped from my brain’s synapses. An enchanted smile caressed the corners of my mouth mirroring the one Spencer was sporting.  

In these insignificant interactions, I would think back to the times where our comfortability was limited and reveled on how much our friendship grew over the years. There was a sense of solace that overwhelmed me knowing that introducing—and working on his—humor brought an auspicious light to the darkness that often clouded his mind.  

My lungs deflated with a hefty exhale, my arm slinging across my eyes in relaxation. Clamored feet and the rug shifting against the wood floor caught my attention. Freeing my line of vision, I was met with a raggedy-haired genius with barely a foot between us. I reached out to comb through his locks, the webbing of my hands catching the tangled curls. “You need to shower greasehead.”  

“Actually, the buildup of sebum and laloin in the gland of the hair follicles—coined as the sebaceous gland—offers moisture and protection, given that it is regulated upon its natural equilibrium.” Spencer leaned into the soft touch of my fingers, like how a kitten purrs against their owner’s affection.  

“Well, I don’t know about you almost-birthday-boy, but I don’t think you want to go into the next chapter of your life smelling like you just changed out of your first diaper.” I pushed myself up the couch, gesturing Spencer to the hallway bathroom. “This is the big 31!”  

“Y/N, we had a party for my 30th. I think I’m good to last for the decade,” he huffed, walking towards his bedroom to grab a change of clothes.  

“That’s not the spirit, Dr. Reid!” I yelled across the room. “I swear Spence, you’re the only person who’d turn down a party... And, you even turned down Rossi’s invitation to go all out in his backyard.”

“Another year to celebrate the ever-closing gap between my time on earth and my imminent demise—oh, and how can I forget celebrating it in an open space full of ticks and pollen,” Spencer sarcastically jested, his voice bouncing off the thin white walls.  

“At least you’d know your soulmate, right? Then I wouldn’t be the only one to deal with your ‘Debby Downer’ ass,” I added on, rolling my eyes at his usual pessimistic rulings.  

“I would prefer nihilistic, but if that vernacular serves you then to each their own.”

“Hey, maybe after you die, I and your soulmate can mourn over you—bond and all that—and then I can steal them away,” I teased.  

I looked to the lightning bolts etched into the crevices of my thighs, my fingertips tracing each design until it fell onto the carved words at my hip. In a way, the stretch marks made beautiful vines attached to the faded letters, covering the obvious red scratch marks that had resurfaced from my bad habits.  

I kissed my fingertips before planting them back onto the markings, chuckling to myself of the intimate gesture. Unconsciously, I began to rub at the tattooed words once again, hating how their protrusion made my skin crawl.  

“I mean I’m dead, what can I really do?” Spencer called out, stopping in his tracks when he reached the bathroom door. He faced me as he spoke, going on about his birthday celebration tomorrow—half of his speech unheard to me—until he requested my immediate attention. “You have to stop picking at the words, Y/N. You’re going to end up hurting yourself.”  

“I know, I know,” I sighed, letting my dominant hand fall to my side. A pout fell on my lips at the loss of the small satisfaction scratching granted me. “But the words are just so uncomfortable sometimes. I mean you got lucky with the whole soulmate placement.”  

Spencer brought his free hand to his chest, thumb tracing over the small words typed on the skin. “Yeah, I guess I did get lucky huh.” A soft smile grazed over his lips while his eyes were still trained on the unknowing figure resting against the couch.  

“What does your marking read aga-”  

“Spence, what’s it say on your che-”  

I groaned in playful disbelief at the coincidental timing. “You know at this point I’m starting to think we’re telepathic, Spencer.”  

“That’s actually what my tattoo is,” he laughed. “It’s my name.”  

“Oh yeah,” I nodded, remembering the first time we brought it up in the early days of meeting one another. “Must’ve saved a lot of name tags in elementary school” I teased.  

Spencer shook his head, shuffling into the bathroom with a lightness in his steps. With the closing of the door, my gaze fell onto the marking once again. 

 Regardless of the mechanics of soulmates, I was never worried about the possibility of not meeting them. I was already at my happiest knowing shared moments like these were good enough. However, unbeknownst to my ideal wishes, an irking desire still lingered in the back of my head while fingers hovered over the imperfect skin.  

October 28th

1 day before

“Kid, you can’t sit there and tell me that finding your soulmate can be ‘scientifically extrapolated.’ That’s not the point,” Morgan amusingly shook his head at Spencer, ruffling the top of his head as he brushed past him.  

“Okay,” Spencer tutted, “tell me. What ‘is’ the point then?”

“Well, all I’m saying is that finding your soulmate—if you have one—is supposed to come supernaturally.”

“Morgan, did you just try to win over boy genius here by talking about the supernatural?” With a tilted smirk, I nursed the half-filled flute between my fingertips. My gaze flickered over to a pleased brainiac sharing the same mischievous glint found in my eyes. I let my head fall back against the couch cushions, my eyes fluttering close to the sound of grown children bickering. 

 “Alright,” Morgan raised his hands up in defense. “All I was pointing out was that things like these can’t be solved by numbers and science.”  

“The same can be said about Newtonian physics, but look where we a-”  

Morgan flung a ball of crinkled wrapping paper Spencer’s way, aiming for his head. Spencer attempted to dodge the projectile—emphasis on attempted—only to have it hit him square in the face.  

“So much for those Newtonian physics, huh?” I teased while getting up to open another bottle of champagne. Spencer slouched in his chair, the paper cone hat on his head shifting to the side. A grimace replaced the smirk he initially wore, muttering about how he was going to get Morgan back.  

“Y/N! Bring that bottle over here when you’re done.” Morgan called out as I walked into the kitchen, pausing the ongoing discussion of the case we planned to tackle. “Also, bring another juice box for Reid here!”  

A chorus of laughter followed my ears which each step, a grin finding the corners of my lips. I rose to the tips of my toes to reach for the unopened bottle in the alcohol cabinet. I made my way to the freezer, taking out the bucket of ice I stored away hours ago. When closing the appliance door, my eyes landed on a picture magnetized to the surface.  

It was a physical reminder of the time that Spencer convinced me to dress up as Amy Pond, the eleventh doctor’s sidekick, for comic con. He too was dressed up in the doctor’s attire: a brown corduroy suit, a bowtie, and a sonic screwdriver. We both had silly grins planted on our faces, it seemed like nothing could tear down the joyous bubble we were in. Upon reflecting on the memory, the kitchen door swung open revealing a merry Spencer.  

“Hey, I was supposed to be getting you that juice box,” I joked.  

Spencer shook his head, pushing past me to get to the cupboard. “Very funny,” he droned, sarcasm dripping off his words. I leaned against the counter, setting the bucket of ice to the side. I analyzed his movements, noticing how often he fidgeted with his fingers or how his legs would clumsily turn inward at times.  

“You know,” he paused, turning around to face me, “In some countries ruled by military dictatorship, staring could be deemed as a call for execution.”  

I crossed my arms, challenging him. “Well last time I checked; we aren’t in any of those countries. Is that right, Dr. Reid?”  

“Unfortunately,” he chuckled. “Did you need anything?”  

“No, why do you ask?”  

“Well, by the way you were checking me out, I would think you needed something.” He sauntered over to the opposite counter across the kitchen, hoisting himself up on the granite. I watched as the casual smirk fell off his face after failing his initial attempt to sit. The second attempt proved to be better, although that didn’t stop me from rolling my eyes at his impotence.  

“You know,” I repeated his words, grabbing the champagne and ice bucket as I began to stroll out of the room. “I’m really starting to think you have a better chance at ‘extrapolating’ your soulmate rather than finding them.”  

“Wait!”  

I whipped around to face him with furrowed eyebrows. I nodded for him to continue, watching as a sly expression reappeared on his face. “You forgot my juice.”  

I sighed, setting the items back down on the counter before reaching for the fridge. “You are a grown man, Spence,” I gesticulated at the boy. I grabbed Spencer’s favorite sparkling water and left it aside. “You couldn’t get your own?” I raised my eyebrows at him, ducking out of the refrigerator door.  

He crossed his legs, still propped up on the counter. “Well, you did call me a five-year-old and it is my birthday,” he argued, shrugging his shoulders tauntingly.  

“I said that the other day, and considering it’s your birthday, that would mean you’d be old enough to conduct yourself,” I countered.  

“Actually, it’s grammatically inappropriate to say, ‘the other day’ when the event in question occurred yesterday,” he began to ramble. With an unimpressed nod, I began to slowly back away from the scene until I was abruptly stopped once again.  

“Wait!”  

“What!”

“You forgot to put it in a cup,” he meekly suggested, his face evident of mischief.  

“You’re clearly enjoying this aren’t you?” I groaned, shuffling towards where he was. “I’ll give you something to enjoy...” I whispered to myself.  

With a plan set in motion, I sauntered over to where Spencer sat. Once I was in front of him, I made sure to give no indication that I was moving beside him. Instead, I leaned forward, letting our chests press together as I reached up for a mug. I would be lying if I denied the faint blush warming up the apples of my cheeks or the tightness of my throat from this proximity. In a nervous hash, I could’ve sworn hearing Spencer’s breath hitch as my chin brushed against his neck.  

Feigning a confident disposition, I dropped back to the heels of my feet, finding myself to be inches away from the enamored and naive genius. “You need this?” I murmured, trying to maintain a collected tone of voice. However, Spencer did make it difficult with the intensity of his penetrating gaze or the way his breath fanned over my sensitive skin.  

For a lasting moment, I began to dissect the small specks of hazel hues in his eyes and how a dark pool of brown surrounded his irises. The tip of his nose was flushed in crimson and his mouth hung in what seemed like anticipation and hesitation battling it out. “Uh, yeah... thank you.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, linking his fingers with mine to take the mug.  

Without breaking eye contact, he set the mug aside and away from view. I opened my mouth to say something, but I soon discovered a dessert residing in the back of my throat. Slowly my composure unraveled, leaving me and Spencer in a purgatory of uncertainty and elation. I heard my heart thump against the walls of my ribcage as my eyes traveled to the parting of his lips, his tongue ever so often swiping against the skin.  

I shook my head out of the trance we were in, popping the hypnotic bubble forming around us. With a trepidatious smile, I gestured to the living room, suggesting going back out there. “Do you want to...” I tied my hands behind my back, stepping away from him slowly. He nodded in response; his mouth tightly pressed into an awkward line.  

With less than obvious movements, we both tiptoed our way back to the liveliness of the other room, soon forgetting about the juice and cup all together.  

-

“Bye guys, thank you for coming! See you tomorrow.” I politely bid everyone a farewell, sending them safe wishes home as they excited through the front door. “Pen, are you coming with us tomorrow?” I received a tipsy nod and a few stumbling feet, but nonetheless confirmation for the case. Spencer was to the left of me doing the same, enduring some last-minute birthday teasing from Morgan before he made his exit.  

With the slow creaking of the door, I leaned against the wood, letting my legs slowly slip down the floor until I was sitting. I tilted my head up, staring at an exhausted Spencer before making grabby hands at him. He snorted at the childlike request, aggressively pulling at my wrists until I landed into his chest.  

“Alright birthday boy, just because you’re older doesn't mean you can get all strong on me,” I warned, nuzzling my heavy head onto his shoulder. A pleasant silence surrounded us, our bodies maintaining an equal balance as we leaned onto each other. On another note, it reminded me of Newton’s principle of force that Spencer explained to me a few months back. How Newton’s cradle, a simple office trinket, exemplified conservation of momentum and energy. In this fragment of space, it felt like that with Spencer—it always felt like that: a comfortable momentum.  

“Hey Spence?”  

The quiet continued to spread throughout the atmosphere.

“Spencer?” I pressed my chin against his chest, feeling his arms find their way to my lower back. He hummed in response, his eyelids resting at a closed position. “I’m sorry about that thing in the kitchen... I was just messing around.”

  He took a while to react before sighing and pressing a tired kiss to the side of my head; with that, I knew things were okay. “Oh! I didn’t give you your present yet.”  

I melted away from his arms, scurrying off to the couch. In an exaggerated reveal, I pulled a small parcel from beneath the cushions, glee filling my eyes as I watched the bow on top spring out. I extended my arms towards Spencer, eager to have him open it.  

He walked tentatively towards me, taking purposefully leisurely strides. At one point he began to act like he was in a slow-motion sequence, causing me to threaten the integrity of his present. With raised hands, he sat next to me on the couch and gently pried the gift from my hands. “What did you get me this time? Let me guess. From the size and shape of his package here,” he turned the box around in his hands, shaking it up, “and the sound to force ratio-”  

“Just open the damn thing, Spence.”

He smiled at my usual impatience, letting his fingers glide against the edge of the parcel. Finally, with gentle hands, he picked apart the wrapping paper, careful not to rip the heart sticker that held the presentation together. He gathered the bow in his palm, and gently pressed the sticky side of the accessory to my cheek.  

I cringed at the feeling, but that soon dissipated hearing the mollified chuckle escape Spencer’s mouth. With a determined huff, Spencer pulled the last pieces of wrapping paper from the box and was left with a frayed book in his palm.  

“The Parliment of Foweles...” he whispered; an unreadable expression crossed his features.  

I curled into my own body, anticipating some form of reaction. “I... I remember you told me the first time we really sat down and got to know each other that your mom used to read that to you when you were younger.” I picked at the stitches on the couch, a lump forming in my esophagus as my tongue swelled. “It’s first edition...” I smiled, insecurity beginning to conquer my excitement from before.  

“Sorry, if you don’t like it... I was just-”  

A pair of arms pulled me into a secure embrace while a tender hand came around to cup the back of my head. An inaudible expression of gratitude was lost in between babbles of endearment and soft caresses. Spencer pulled away with pools of adoration, he clutched the book in hand as he pulled me under his arm. He ran his thumb along the deckles that adorned the sides of the pages, his palm tenderly feeling the roughness of the old woven spine.

To open the book, he singled out a random page and lightly flicked a few pages to the side before I halted his movements completely. “Wait!” I requested. “I want you to read it after the case so we can do it together,” I sheepishly tucked a hair behind his ear, hiding the careful blush on my cheeks. “If that’s okay with you.”  

“Yeah...that’s fine with me,” he breathed, his eyes locked onto the soft curves of my face. I pulled my hand away, tugging my sleeve further down my arm. “Oh! That reminds me.” Spencer places the book behind him and headed over the coat rack next to the front door. Sliding his hands through various pockets, he finally pulled a small box from one of the compartments.  

He tentatively approached me, turning the object in hand. “I know it’s my birthday, but... I wanted to do something because you’ve made everything better in these past years,” he confessed, fidgeting as he came closer. “Being with my mother always felt like home, and I just... you became that for me, so thank you.”  

My fingers reached over to his open palm, approaching the velvet box as if it was fragile. I glazed over its general shape, turning it a few times between my hands. “Spencer...I don’t even know what to say.”  

“Well, you can start by opening it,” he smiled.  

I shook my head, gently prying the box open. Inside laid a beautiful heart-shaped necklace with words etched into the metal. Once I read the words, a heavy breath escaped my lungs, and my shoulders lost all tension. “Spencer...”

  “I thought that it would be easier to have the words of your soulmate above your heart rather than you tracing over your hip,” he professed. “I also know that even if you deny not having any connection to this soulmate thing, it often brings you comfort when needed.”  

My attention went to him the second he uttered those words. “How did you know,” I mumbled with an enamored chuckle.  

“Well, whenever we’re in the field, I could tell the times you get nervous or need reassurance by the way you subtly touch your hip.”  

“I thought staring was punishable by death,” I joked, referring to his argument earlier today.  

He brushed it off with a wide smile, combing his hands through his hair. “I know we have a hefty case tomorrow based on what Penelope showed us last briefing, so I hoped that this would make you feel better,” he confessed, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back into the arm of the couch.  

“Thank you, Spencer...really,” I wrapped my arms above my head, trying to attach the unlocked chain around my neck. “Can you...?”  

With gracious hands, he lifted the chain from my fingertips and wrapped it around my neck. The skin of his fingers would occasionally brush the back of my neck, sending euphoric chills down my spine. I felt myself squirm under his touch slightly, although it wasn’t enough to be obvious. Lifting my hair to the side with his wrist, he clasped the necklace together, letting the cold metal kiss the skin.  

I turned around, appreciating the trinket in my hands. I shook my head in disbelief, watching as some of the moonlight that seeped through the window reflected off the metal. “Thank you, again, Spencer.” I nodded, bringing him into a meaningful embrace. My head rested in the crook of his neck, an aroma of pine, vanilla, and old books surrounding us. “This really is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever possessed.”  

He scoffed, gently wrapping his hands around the small of my back. “Everything pales in comparison to you.”  

-

October 29th

...

I twirled the metal heart in between my fingers as Hotch’s words failed to reach my ears. I would look up occasionally to see the pictures, but we’ve been dealing with an unsub who showed no mercy to anything morally reprehensible. I sighed, swinging my feet under me as I pretended to be enveloped by the case file in my other hand.  

“Since we’re dealing with a L.D.S.K-”  

“A long-distance serial killer,” Emily intercepted, nodding towards the team.  

“We’ll have SWAT patrol the surrounding rooftops. Emily and I will stay with the defense team here.” Hotch pointed to the house of the unsub’s target. “Morgan, Y/N, and Reid will go through the floors of the apartment building with the strike team—witnesses stated that he was located on the 5th floor, but we have to be ready for anything.”  

I looked over to Morgan with a determined expression. His face hardened at the words and his lips was pressed into a tight line. In my peripheral, I could see the way his veins would constrict against the skin as he clenched his fists.  

This case hit him particularly hard considering we couldn’t save the unsub’s last victim. It was a 4-year-old little girl, and we were misinformed about her possible location. By the time we got to her, she was faced down into a park well with a single bullet hole above her heart. I watched the slow diffusion of her blood, and how the water turned to a murky black. I couldn’t imagine Morgan’s guilt considering he was so sure of himself when reaching a breakthrough with the unsub’s whereabouts. The parents of the child would soon blame Morgan for his ignorance, spewing derogatory slurs in their distress.  

“We’ll get him Hotch,” Morgan assured, “This time, we’ll get him.”  

Spencer noticed the certitude in his voice, sharing a look with me to give extra attention to Morgan out in the field. I smiled at him, warmed at the concern that the genius had over his friend.  

“I’ll be working with local PD to hold a press conference to keep the public on the lookout,” JJ expressed, crossing her arms.

“Since...last time, we figured that unsub finds enjoyment in toying with us or singling us out. So, keep each other in check and make sure to report back in your earpieces every five minutes.” Hotch himself seemed perturbed by the unsub’s earlier actions considering he had his own toddler to deal with. “Penelope has sent the coordinates to everyone. Remember the profile, and don’t leave yourselves vulnerable. We’re dealing with an elusive unsub that won’t stop at nothing to satisfy himself,” Hotch spoke with a quiver in his voice.

  I bit the inside of my cheek and breathed heavily through my mouth. My hands began to drift to my hip but momentarily stopped as I remembered the chain around my neck. I slumped into the chair as Hotch dismissed the team, sending them out for their respective assignments.  

“You, okay?” I whipped around to the sound of JJ’s voice. She leaned against the doorframe with an expression full of concern. Looking behind her, she noticed Spencer noticeably pacing through the bullpen waiting for a specific someone. He attempted to disguise his eagerness by counting tiles on the floor or squares on the ceiling, but to JJ he was easily discernable.  

I let a dry laugh, shaking my head. “After what happened, I’m a bit worried—not about me—but Morgan and Spence.” I swiveled around in the office chair a few times until I landed in front of JJ.  

“You know you fidget the same way as Spence,” she pointed out, grinning at the similarity. I shook off the oncoming warmth that flooded the skin and looked elsewhere. “You’re right to worry about both of them though. But you know how stubborn and determined they are.” As she began to walk out, she left a lingering message that soothed my nerves. “Plus, Spencer may have that IQ of his, but we all know runs things between you all.”  

She wasn’t wrong. I’ve always kept a watchful eye over the both of them—maybe Spencer a little more—but nonetheless, I deeply cared about both of them. It was relieving to know that Spencer’s circle of trust exponentially grew from Morgan to JJ to me. It symbolized the growth that Spencer was mostly oblivious to, but it meant more to me than I can explain, seeing how he opened himself up to happier possibilities.  

A sharp exhale left my lungs while my lips formed into a sly smirk. Without another minute to wait, I left the round table behind JJ, leaving Spencer to stop dawdling. “You ready genius?” I walked out into the hall, not sparing a glance at the figure trailing behind me.

“With you? Always.”  

-

“Nothing here,” a voice confirmed in my earpiece. My gun hung low in my hands while I tiptoed through the floor of the apartment building. “You know Y/N, if I knew that the unsub was going to the pick a building in the area we resided in, maybe I would’ve considered having the party at Rossi’s instead,” Spencer joked.  

I bit the smile growing on my lips, focusing on the assignment on hand.  

“Maybe after the case, instead of reading that book in our apartment we can go over to that small library/cafe we’ve been meaning to go to,” he continued to drone, forgetting about the connection of everyone’s channels.  

“Reid, if all you’re gonna do is flirt with Y/N, leave the damn channel,” Morgan warned. Hearing the worry in his tone, Spencer straightened up, coughing to cover up his soft apology. Being separated didn’t help the irrational thoughts that built up in the back of my conscience; I can’t even comprehend what’s probably going through Morgan’s head.  

“You good?” I mumbled into the com; my eyes straightforward while I advanced towards the hall. Morgan didn’t respond, an inaudible huff coming through the speakers.  

“I’m moving up to the top floor. Y/N and Reid, go back down to the basement and see if we missed anything,” Morgan broke the awkward silence with an austerity in his words. The silent hum that came afterwards was worse than earlier. I turned off my earpiece, sensing a conversation about to ensue between the two gentlemen.

The thickness in the atmosphere was similar to the air that surrounded me and Spencer when competing in recreational chess. Whenever I attempted to put his king in check, he would block the move by maneuvering another piece in front of it. This would lead to a game of cat and mouse until I would figure out that the entire time, Spencer had been deluding me into false security while checking my king piece. Ultimately, I would lose to Spencer. However, there were games where I’d outmaneuver him or win by dumb luck.  

I’d like to think that I developed some sort of intuition for his behavior from playing against him, but he’s deemed unpredictable every game. He was always sharp, eight steps ahead and aware of all possibilities. I guess that’s what make him an effective profiler, always thinking in the future.

I ran down the stairs, still armed, when Penelope’s voice ran through the earpiece. “Updates! Updates people.” The joy in her voice always relived me of the gloom that usually surrounded me in the field; hopefully she has the same effect on Morgan.  

“Hey, Pen.” An invisible grin was evident in my words, knowing she’d pick up on it.  

“Hello, my love, seems like at least one person is happy to see me,” she verbally jabbed at the lack of response from Spence and Morgan.  

Still no response.  

“Sorry, they’re working out their marriage at the moment,” I teased, hoping for the usual distasteful comment I usually get from Morgan.  

Still nothing.  

An unnerving feeling crept up the back of my neck. “Penelope, can you check if their coms are still workin—shit.” Before I could finish, a long buzz of static came through the speakers. The only comprehensible words that were picked up was the beginning of my name before cutting off.  

I bit my lip, pulling out the small piece of technology and tapping it a few times. “Come on... dammit.” After playing around with the earpiece, I grew frustrated with it and stuffed it into my pocket.  

I paced in the small landing between the stairs, thinking of a new gameplan. I ran my fingers through the ends of my hair, feeling the split ends prick at the skin. I felt a mountain growing in at the bottom of my stomach, leaving my esophagus constricted without air. “What would Spencer do,” I mumbled to myself, gripping onto my necklace.  

“Spencer...Spencer...”  

Before I could finish the mantra, a shot rang out from above me, and the crashing off glass followed. In the split moment, my legs grew a mind of its own and sprinted to higher ground. Suddenly, the sweat perspiring off me turned cold, and my heartbeat slammed itself into my spinal cord as I ran. My feet forgot its exhaustion while my mind devoured every irrational thought, and combined it with adrenaline.  

The single thing that drove me over my limits was knowing that the person who fabricated and would shoo away these thoughts was somewhere I didn’t know I could get to in time.  

-

Spencer’s POV

I tiptoed into a vacant suite of the building, still antsy about the scolding I received from Morgan. The conversation after didn’t help considering it was all a reminder to be aware and focused on the task at hand. I knew Morgan was filled with the need for redemption despite the team forgiving him of his ignorance. So, I shook off the creeping feeling and abided by his instructions.  

Deciding to update Y/N and Morgan about my whereabouts, I spoke into the coms only to have static come out of it. I tried once again but failed to reach anyone. The room around me shrank as a sharp exhale left my lungs. I swallowed the buildup of saliva in the back of my throat, feeling uneasy about not knowing what’s to come.  

Seeing at the area was clear, I looked out of one of the windows. Initially I cringed at the accumulated dirt and grime in the glass panes, but that all dissipated when I spotted the quaint park that Y/N loved. No one else had any interest in the community lot, seeing as people would coin it—or what Y/N would tell me—the park of death. But to her, she saw the opposite as she always does.  

The light feeling of reminiscing my interactions with Y/N soothed the disconcerting atmosphere, keeping me grounded. Although the sentiment ended as soon as it started when I spotted one of the apartment walls was spray-painted with black letters.  

Zugzwang

A blaring shot rang out and glass shattered into the room. I ducked into the floor, shutting my eyes. My head spun as the boom impaired my hearing. The window was forcibly open, the shards resting beside me. Left disoriented, I groaned, only feeling the after wave of vibrations on the ground. However, I soon found out that the quake of the floor wasn’t from the initial shot, but the rapid clobbering of feet inching closer to the suite and a shadowy figure preceding it.  

Y/N emerged from the doorframe, panting. Eyes were laced in fear while they bore into my own. My stomach twisted into knots from previous events while I contemplated what had occurred. The presence of Y/N wasn’t even strong enough to relinquish the egging feeling crawling in my skin. I anticipated Morgan to appear, considering he was closer to the scene.

Where was he?

Another thing I didn’t anticipate, a second shot.  

“Spencer?”  

-

January 3rd

Three months after

My thoughts antagonized one another while I stared out into the world from the eerily quiet apartment. The living room was cold and empty despite the array of furniture scattered about and the broken picture frames lining the walls. The vapor rising from the cup of tea drifted into the air, vanishing into nonexistence. It’s funny how that could happen in a matter of milliseconds.  

The pain the lived inside the chambers of my heart was no match for the burning of skin I felt when holding onto the steaming cup. The only worthy adversary would be the rush of self-resentment that coursed through me when picking up the book. I deserved it though. I deserved the spikes through my stomach while my fingers trailed the deckled pages, reminding me of the first time I held the book, its previous owner present with me.

I would remember our time together.  

I would remember the promise shared between us.  

I would remember the bloodied handprint pressed against my chest.

Now all I had was the physical manifestation of what’s left: the necklace. As cruel as it was for me, I kept it in the book, using it as a bookmark while I lost myself into poems. After a while, the inked words lost their meaning to me, becoming an empty cacophony that encased the jewelry.

Every time I grasped the chain in my clutches, a numbed ache would make itself known at the pit of my stomach. It clawed at my intestines and made the entirety of my body system obsolete. With that, I was abandoned with the sinister hauntings of my own mind—a part of me that I was once praised for. 

 A genius. A prodigy. Hidden behind the real mess of a guilty man.  

I ignored the smashed chess board and pieces that laid still at my feet, concentrating on the snowflakes that littered the park across from the building. The grounds looked beautiful, covered in layers of pure white. I sipped at the tea once more letting my mind deteriorate with a sophisticated nonchalance. 

 What a tragedy it was to know my soulmate, especially right under the tip of my nose. What a cruel joke life had played.  

I wished I had more time.  

It was easier to let the guilt consume me rather than pondering on what I lost—who I lost. Had I lost myself too? Maybe, it didn’t matter. In some masochistic way, I enjoyed the guilt because it was a way to remember that at one point someone made for me existed. I used it to relive the moments I could never get back.  

All that remained was an empty shell of a man, staring out into a dull world, wondering how time took everything away from him.  

-

taglist: @rexorangecouny @howdycharlie @honeymilk-4 @linthebinbag @andreasworlsboring101 @ssareidbby @kyleetheeditor @fanofalltheficsx​ @jimilogy @lulwaxim @jhillio @m3ssytrash @haylaansmi @meowiemari @ashwarren32 @codyf3rnsupremecy @goldentournesol​ 

[spenciebabie]

can you do a blurb with bi!spencer and maybe a bi!reader?

“hey! i’m the anon who requested the bi!reader and bi!spencer. could you write it as smut, but they talk about it before or after?”

i hope it’s okay but im gonna combine it with this one too:

“can you write one where reader is bi and is kinda checking out a girl when they’re on a case and then Spence proves that she’s his that night but he’s so supportive of her sexuality?”

(also wanna preface this by saying that im bisexual myself and tried to write this in a way that didn’t fetishize bisexual people, or women in particular, because that’s something i feel pretty strongly about)

— —

She caught your eye at the precinct that day. Something about the way her pencil skirt hugged her hips, or maybe the way her hair flowed so perfectly over one of her shoulders as she leaned down to help Emily look over a file.

You didn’t realize until it was too late that you were honest to god staring.

“Close your mouth” Spencer joked, sitting down in the seat next to you, following your line of sight to where the detective was bending over.

“I wasn’t—I’m not...” you gasp, doing next to no damage control.

He just brushes it off with a chuckle, until later that evening.

When you finally get back to your hotel for the evening, the door shutting behind you, he pushes you against the door and his mouth is on your neck instantly. Sucking and nipping gently.

“Fuck Spence! You’re gonna leave a mark!” You moan out, not really caring in the moment but knowing there’ll be repercussions in the morning. So he pulls back.

“Maybe I want to leave a mark”

Then his lips crash against your own, rough and hungry while his hands roam over your body, grabbing everywhere he can. Hiking up your skirt so that his hands can grab at your bare skin.

“Spencer—ah!” you moan out as his hands graze the crotch of your panties.

“Already wet huh? Did looking at that detective earlier turn you on?”

“Spence...” you whine as his fingers dip into your panties

“I know it did, but you’re mine. You’re no one else’s, am I clear?” He growls against your ear, low and heated as his fingers start to work against you, rubbing slow circles around your clit.

“M’sorry Spence” you mumble, most of your energy going to keeping yourself upright, your knees growing more unstable by the second.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” He asks, groaning it more than anything.

His fingers slip inside you as he speaks, pushing two inside your waiting cunt at the same time. The way they stretch you out, pushing deeper a deeper inside of you on each thrust, curling up against your walls.

“Fuck! You Spencer, belongs to you”

“You like to fantasize about other people? How their fingers would feel inside of you, how their mouth would feel on your neck? Between your legs?” He asks, pumping in and out of you. His other hand firmly planted on your hip, holding you up.

“Sometimes” you admit with a small gasp, “but I only want you” it sounds eager and desperate but it’s the truth.

As much as you liked to look at other people, you never did much more than that. Spencer was the only person you ever really wanted to be with.

With a few more deliberate thrusts and his thumb working deftly against your clit you were shaking around him, leaving forward to brace your hands against his chest for support as your knees began to give.

“That’s it, cum for me baby” he coos against your ear, his fingers working you thought it slowly until you started to to come down.

“What was that all about?” you ask, breath still coming out a little shaky as he pulls his fingers out of you. “We’re you really that jealous?”

He shakes his head, “No. Well, maybe?” he looks like he’s telling himself as much as he’s telling you.

“You gotta admit she was gorgeous, I’ve seen the way you look at other women, and at other men too” you start, keeping your tone soft, “When you look at them, or think about them, does it make you want me any less?”

He shakes his head in a firm no, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Of course I don’t! You’re the only one I really want” he rushes out, his lips pressing against yours softly before pulling back.

“Exactly, so why would I want anyone else either?”

[itrytowrite-things]

Murder podcasts

Spencer Reid x reader 

Summary: Y/N has a tendency to listen to murder podcasts while doing chores, one day Spencer comes in unannounced scaring Y/N into action. (This summary sucks but it’s fluffy) 

A/N: shout out to @with-paint, she helped me form some of this fic so check them out. 

The eerie background music and narrator filled the kitchen as I scrubbed diligently at a plate. I blinked down at it, trying in vain to remember what the hell I used it for that would cause such a stubborn stain of food. Sighing, I squeezed the soap bottle some more and ran hot water over it. Maybe soaking it would help? 

Grabbing a few of the cups I had washed, I spun around from the sink to a towel I had laid out earlier. I scrunched my nose as cold soap suds ran down my arm, hit my elbow and fell to the floor in a sticky mess I didn’t want to deal with right now. 

I was so engrossed in the podcast playing over the Alexa that I barely even processed the grueling chore that was longer than normal. I was lost in the words, that an hour longer scrubbing at dishes seemed almost fun. The dishwasher had completely died a couple of weeks ago. 

Normally Spencer would speed read the manual to figure out what was wrong with the stupid machine. But unfortunately, his case in Michigan was taking longer than he anticipated. So, he hadn’t been home to look into it, leaving me to hand wash the dishes. I didn’t mind, it was a mindless task and allowed me to catch up on my favorite podcast. 

“They found her body a week later, twenty minutes from their house,” I shook my head at that, case freaking solved. Her husband obviously killed her. I mean there’s no way the police didn’t solve this case, come on.

I moved from the towel back to the sink, sticking my hands back into the soapy water. I always believed that I should be a detective. I could solve these cases easily, Spencer claims that suspicion can only take me so far and the reason that they don’t catch the guy is not because they don’t suspect it, but because they don’t have hard evidence. I normally just scoff and give him a kiss knowing that I would get the bad guy in the end, “hard evidence” my ass. 

“Two months later the police came in and found Jeff’s disembodied head laying on their kitchen counter.” My jaw dropped and I turned around furiously, bringing a wet butter knife with me, on instinct I pointed the knife at the device. 

“Oh shit.” I said to the speaker, as if it were relaying the case itself. Well turns out I was wrong. I cleared my throat and lowered the stupid knife. I placed it down and tried my best to look less scandalized. We all make mistakes. So I might have been a little off in my husband theory, but I mean I had only heard half the case at that point so it doesn’t speak anything of my amazing detective skills. I nodded at that and tossed the knife into a little stack of silverware. The metallic sound echoing around the kitchen. I smirked at my good throw and turned back to the sink. 

I quickly got into the true grove of washing the dishes, listening to the more gruesome details of the case. Turns out the killer did quite a number on old Jeff. I was halfway done with the remaining dishes when I felt a tap on my shoulder sending my heart into a frenzy. 

I whirled around quickly bringing the closest item with me as a weapon. The plastic spatula slapped the asalint straight in the face creating an awfully loud twack sound that bounced off the kitchen walls. I blinked in horror at realizing who exactly was standing in front of me. 

Spencer's cheek turned red immediately. 

“Oh my god! Spence! I am so sorry!” I dropped the spatula and brought my other hand to his face trying to soothe his skin. My hand was covered in water and soap suds, and it dripped down his face onto the already wet floor.

“I am so so sorry. You scared me.” I rubbed my thumb over the spot, feeling his heated skin. Jesus, I felt awful. I didn’t hold anything back when I hit him. I figured I was fending for my life, not greeting my boyfriend. 

“It’s okay.” His much larger hand cupped mine removing it from his face. The redness had died down a little, making his skin a rosy pink instead of the previous bright red. He looked adorable which only made me feel worse. Who looks that cute after getting slapped in the face with a spatula? 

Spencer startled me yet again when a chuckle came bubbling out of him. His laugh was like someone bottled the sound of happiness. It made my own laughter arise every time without a doubt even if I didn’t understand what was funny.

“I guess I don’t have to worry about you protecting yourself.” A loud squeak sound emitted from my body unexpectedly followed by more laughter. I slapped him very lightly across the chest, kissing his unharmed cheek. 

“You're lucky I wasn’t cutting vegetables.” I said,  rustling my way into his arms pulling his body against my tightly, loving the way his laughter shook my entire body. I felt the short press of his lips against the crown of my head before tucking my head into the nook of his neck. I inhaled deeply, taking the scent of him with me. The apartment had started to lose its scent with him being gone for so long. I was beyond eager for the apartment to smell like us again.

“I think those podcasts are giving you wild ideas.” 

“They would never find your body Dr.Reid.” I teased, poking gently at his side making him squirm in my grip. Another round of laughter filled the small space, it was only when it died down that I realized my podcast was still running in the background. 

“Alexa, stop,” I shouted into the air stopping the podcast. “The neighbor did it.” I said with coincidence knowing that my answer was correct this time. Spencer let out a belt of laughter, nodding his head, a big grin on his face. 

I pulled back from Spencer taking in his features for the first time. He looked tired, his eye bags had doubled creating a skunk in effect. I could see the trouble in his eyes, the case was hard. It killed me to see him after a hard case, he looked more and more defeated after each one. However, it was what he loved doing and my job wasn’t to erase the trauma of his job, but to ease him back into daily life. I thumbed his eye bags lazily, a pout taking over my face. 

“You wanna take a shower and I’ll start us some dinner.” I asked gently. Not wanting to completely destroy the quiet we created. He nodded slightly looking younger than ever. I quickly pulled him back into me taking all of his weight. “I love you bub.” His hair felt silky against my fingertips as I disentangled the curls. 

“Love you too.” He mumbled, his heated breath warming my skin. I waited a few comfortable minutes rocking our conjoined bodies in the cozy silence of our kitchen, I took a deep breath and said what was on my mind. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

I don’t ever ask Spencer for the details of his cases. He either goes into a tangent without prompting or doesn’t feel like talking about it. I used to think that talking to Spencer about his job would be like listening to my murder podcasts. It honestly was one of the things I was excited for, but I soon found out it’s nothing like that.

When Spencer spoke of cases it was personal. He felt every death that was caused and saw every killing through the eyes of monsters. He held so much emotion in his voice when he spoke of the victims, that I often can’t help but cry. How a person can hold that much pain and still continue to do it everyday, is beside me. 

He shook his head, squeezing my torso before finally pulling back and placing a soft kiss to my lips. 

I continued the dishes, washing the last few. I left the podcast off, listening instead to the shower from down the hall. I scrubbed off the last of the grime before starting the oven. A simple dinner was always best in these situations. I pulled out a pre-made chicken pot pie from the freezer and placed it in the oven. 

As I moved to dry and put away the dishes while waiting for pie to finish. Spencer emerged from the bathroom freshly bathed. He wore a thin gray shirt paired with some soft looking sweatpants. My upper lip jutted out automatically. God I love him. 

“Feel better?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to startle any peace that the shower might have brought him. He nodded slowly. 

“What did you cook?”

“A chicken pot pie, I hope that’s okay.” 

“It’s perfect.” He smiled and returned to my arms, kissing my neck once before tucking his head into my neck. The edge of his wet hair scraped against my skin in an uncomfortable way, yet I only moved enough to rub circles into his back. 

A loud beep emitted from the oven caused me to jump in Spencer's arms. He let out a small chuckle. 

“Pick us something to watch and I’ll plate us some food.” I hummed turning my back to him. I heard him walking towards the living room as I bent to retrieve the hot food. 

Spencer sat criss cross on the couch, Les Enfants du Paradis was displayed on the TV. I handed him the steaming bowl and sat down, sitting close enough for our knees to knock together. I have no idea what Les Enfants du Paradis was, but I would watch literally anything he wanted as long as he was here. 

“It’s in French, but I figured I could whisper the translations to you while we watch. Or I could pick something else?” 

“No! This is perfect Spence. I love it when you translate, you tell the story better.” He let out a little blush highlighting his previous slap mark. I bit my lip and winced slightly, “How’s your face?” 

He touched the spot faintly, he didn’t wince when his fingers made contact which was a good sign. However, I have an inkling that a small bruise would form in the center of the slap which was going to be a fun story to tell his colleagues Monday. 

“I’ve had worse, but you wield a lot of power with a cheap piece of plastic.”

“I am professionally trained in the art of spatula wielding Spence, don’t try that at home.” I stared at him, my face blank before a blast of laughter came out of both of us. One can only be so serious when you are talking about slapping people in the face with kitchen utensils. 

Spencer started up the movie, and we remained there for the rest of the evening. Laughter and dramatic sighs followed by even more dramatic translations from Spencer. At some point he went so off script that even I could tell his story was bullshit. I didn’t call him out though just allowed him to spit nonsense, I would let him create fake French stories until he was blue in the face if that meant we got to stay in this happy bubble forever. 

[imgoingtohellsofuckit]

Spencer Can’t Keep A Secret

Spencer x Reader

Warnings - None? Implied sexual themes but nothing happens

Summary - Y/n and Spencer have been secretly dating. They’ve been trying to hide it from the team but Spencer can’t seem to play it cool.

Word Count - 1.6k

Spencer was trying not to be distracted however he was absolutely failing at it. When you and Spencer decided to keep your relationship between the two of he thought it would be a breeze. He made it through months of pining after you without anyone picking up on it. Or well if they did they never mentioned it to him. However, this was different. It was harder. All he wanted to do was kiss you. On the jet. In the office. Hell even in the back of the SUV. But he knew he couldn't risk it. Both of your jobs are on the line. What would Hotch say if he found out two of his agents were messing around behind his back. Spencer was worried he'd reassign one of you. Or worse he'd fire one of you. Or both of you. Sure he didn't fire or even reprimand Penelope when everyone found out about her and Kevin but they weren't on the same team- or even on the same floor. You and Spencer were supposed to be on this team together and a relationship might threaten your work relationship. Or at least that's the reason Spencer came up with as to why it was a bad idea.

He came up with about thirty reasons. But none of those reasons meant anything to him at the end of the day. All that mattered is that he loves you...

But that's what got him in this problem. Hell loving you was the problem because all he wanted to do was show you just how much he loves you.

"Spencer- Spencer!" Hotch says at once. The boy snaps his eyes away from your frame back to Hotch. Chuckling weakly. "Are we boring you?"

"No sorry sir," Spencer says softly. You chuckle lightly as Hotch scoffs lightly. He goes back to going over the case. They were going to be landing soon. They should be focusing on the case. Spencer knows that. He knows he needs to go into this with a clear mind. But how is he supposed to focus on everything when someone this fantastic was standing right there. As Hotch wraps up his explanation Y/n moves to sit beside Spencer.

"Nice going Loverboy," She chuckles lightly, "you gonna be able to make it?"

"I'll be fine," He says, "but the second we get away from them just know I'm getting you back for distracting me."

"No my fault I'm irresistible," She chuckles, "maybe you should learn better self-control."

"I was a 24-year-old virgin I think I know self-control," He chuckles. She laughs lightly. Looking back to the case. Trying to at least look like she's trying to work. Considering how important catching this unsub is they really should be focusing. She isn't trying too hard. Spencer can tell that much when she moves to rest her hand on his thigh. The first thing he does is look around to see where the others are looking. Morgan and Emily were talking about some book. Hotch and Rossi were going on about different ways to approach this profile. And JJ was busy shifting through the case files. No one would notice the small touch and even if they did it's not like it wasn't something they did before they dated. Y/n and Spencer were always touching each other like this. Even if Spencer wasn't the biggest fan of touch people he always let her touch him.

"They aren't looking at us Spencer," She assures him, "don't worry." He nods lightly. Trying not to seem too nervous. However, his bouncing knee more than gave him away. She moves her hand from his thigh to rest it on his knee. Trying to help him relax with the action. However, the contact was enough to drive him up the wall.

The plane couldn't land fast enough. The second they got off the Jet Hotch split the two of them up. Reid was with Morgan. Y/n with Emily.

"You are extra tense today," Morgan says as he drives along the open roads. They were heading to the last crime scene. However, that didn't stop Morgan from checking on his friend how seemed more wound up than normal. And that's saying something. "You alright?"

"Yeah yeah," Spencer says quickly, "I mean- it's nothing really." Morgan nods. However, he's not convinced. But he decides to give in. Spencer tries to put you out of his mind to focus on the case. But when you guys meet back up he can't help but move to take your hand. You don't pull it away. Both of you know you should have. Because the look the others give you speaks for itself.

"Spencer I know it's a nasty burn but you don't have to keep checking it," You say as you gently pull your hand away. Lying with ease. "I promise I'm taking care of it."

"Burn?" Emily asks.

"I was on the phone with Spencer the other night telling and I grabbed a pot that hadn't cooled down all the way," She explains, "he doesn't think I've been treating it the proper way." She moves her eyes to Spencer and smiles lightly. "But I promise I'm taking care of it, Spencer."  He's grateful for the save.

The next slip up happens when they get to the hotel that night. The entire BAU got paired up due to limited rooms. Spencer and Morgan were staying together, while Y/n and Penelope were partnered up. At some point, Penelope stepped out to call Kevin. Trying to talk to him about something that came up. The second she left Spencer had slipped into the room.

"I've wanted to kiss you all day," Spencer sighs as he moves towards her. She chuckles patting the spot beside her on the bed. She moves to peck his cheek first. He whimpers slightly. Clearly wanting more than the sweet action. He pulls her into a hungry kiss. It's sloppy and desperate. But she doesn't mind.  He can barely help himself as he moves hungrily along her neck. Biting and sucking lightly. She moans lightly. Spencer is slightly red-faced at the sound. But boy does he want to hear it again.

"Spencer~"

"I love it when you say my name like that," He says moving to pull her into a deep kiss. He moves along to her jaw again. Wanting to hear the sound again.

"Spencer-"

"Mmm-"

"No Spencer," She says pushing him away. He looks to see Penelope and JJ walking into the room. His eyes widen as his girlfriend jumps away from him.

"Woah Spencer, what are you doing here?" Penelope asks, "I thought you were with Morgan."

Spencer fumbles lightly with his words. Y/n chuckles.

"Morgan was flirting with that detective again and Spencer didn't really want to stay and listen to it," Y/n tells them, "I can't blame him- Morgan's game is hard to listen to." The girls chuckle lightly. Knowing exactly what she meant. "I'm gonna walk Spencer back to his room."

The girls nod. She waves him along. Leading him out the door. Once free of the others she sighs in soft relief.

"Jesus that was close," She sighs, "sorry Spence I think we have to play it extra safe until we get back home. Think you can handle that on your own?" Spencer's face goes red as he looks down at his situation. "Sorry handsome." She moves to cup his cheek. "I better get back there- we all have to get to bed soon. We don't know when Hotch will come to wake us all up."

"Right," Spencer sighs. She pulls him into a quick kiss before moving off to her hotel room. Spencer suddenly really needed to take a nice cold shower before anyone else see's him.

The next day he's trying to follow their plan to be extra safe. He keeps to himself. However, his eyes keep drifting to her. His hands always find hers. Any excuse to touch her he takes. All that he could hope is all the other profilers couldn't pick up on it with everything happening.

When they get their unsub for the cops he couldn't be happier. All he wanted was to get home and be able to finally have a moment with his girlfriend.

"You're so pretty," Spencer says as he moves to take your bag from you. You chuckle lightly.

"Eager huh?" You whisper. The two of you were the last to board the jet. So you weren't too worried about the others overhearing. "Spencer, you have a problem with keeping secrets you know that right?"

"Only when the secret is you," He says softly. Y/n chuckles.  Moving to lace her hand with Spencer's. He brings her hand up to his lips to peck it lightly. "God, I can't wait until we get back- Are we staying at mine or yours?"

"Your place is closer," She tells him. They drop it as they step on the jet. As they settle into their seats they can feel eyes on them.

"Hey Spencer," Hotch says.

"Yes Sir?" Spencer asks nervously.

"Quit flirting on the job it isn't professional”

“I didn’t mean to-” Spencer starts. The others laugh lightly.

"That's what you're going with kid?" Morgan asks, "that big brain and that's all you got?"

"Yeah," Spencer says tensely, "listen Hotch I know that we aren't supposed to date other agents but the two of us just click in a way I've never really got a chance to experience and I can't pass up the opportunity at this type of love-"

"Spencer it's fine," Hotch tells him, "I caught on weeks ago. Just as long as you can keep things professional at work I'm not going to deal with it. I'm sure that is reasonable." The couple nods. You look over to Spencer with a smile.

"And you thought we'd be transferred."

"You still can be so you both better watch it," Rossi teases. The couple nods lightly. Chuckling at the comment.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Open Me Carefully

summary: spencer reid and reader are best friends, but don’t realize that they both love each other. 

author’s note: crappy summary, but this one is loosely based on gold rush 

warnings: none

Open Me Carefully 

Maybe it’s the fact that I have a propensity to keep rereading historical romances, or maybe it’s the fact that I just listen to “Lover” way too much for a single person. Or maybe, I’m actually in love with him, my best friend and the only person in this world who I think truly knows me. 

I mean, how could I not be completely in love with him. Spencer Reid is the closest thing to perfection. He is kind, brilliant, and unbelievably handsome. It almost hurts me how wonderful he is. But daydreaming about Spencer’s hair falling in his eyes, or his hands grazing across the map spread out on the table, or even his wide smile that slips out when he lets his guard down is not productive to solving crimes. 

Unsubs, Y/N. Unsubs. Stop thinking about his hands. And start focusing. 

“Y/N/L!” Calls Hotch from across the room. He’s assigned me to locate the birth mother of the potential unsub. He was given up for adoption as an infant, but bounced around from foster home to foster home, never finding a home, and now obsessed with finding his roots. 

“Yes, sir, here’s the name from Garcia. Susan Lee gave up her baby for adoption in 1981, she was a just 16 years old, so that would make her-”

“44 years old” Spencer injected. 

Hotch gave me a short nod of approval and I cocked my head towards Spencer’s direction, who tried to pull off an innocent look. 

“It’s math, Y/N. I can’t help myself,” he explains. 

“It’s fine, Spence. Math is like your religion,” I tell him, but what I’m really thinking is it’s you, Spence, and you can get away with anything with me. 

“Math, in its purest form, is a beauty known nowhere else” he remarks. 

“Who’s that Nietzsche?” I ask him as he beams down at me, twirling a blue permanent mark between his very distracting fingers. 

“No, Spencer Reid.” he says as he turns back to the map on the table before us.

Just as I give myself the smallest bit of a second to enjoy the playful banter that falls between us, JJ and Emily come walking in, leading a gruff looking detective with them. 

“We think we know where Jacob is hiding out,” JJ starts with a grim look on her face. Emily and the detective walk past her to where Hotch and Derek explain the profile to the SWAT team waiting by. 

“His old orphanage, right?” Spencer asks looking up from the map.

“Yeah, and we think he’s going to hold some of the other children hostage,” JJ tells us. 

“We need to get there, JJ. But isn't it his mother he wants, not the other children. You’d think that with the profile we came up with, it would make more sense for him to want to save the children, not hold them hostage?” I reason.

“You’re right, Y/N,” Spencer says, coming to a dark realization “he thinks that he’s saving them. He’s Angel of Death” he finishes grimly. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting quietly in the jet after the chaos of de-escalating a hostage situation is a calm like no other. We all have routines for the ride home. A quiet ritual that we take the time to be thankful that we’re all here, in one piece, having made the world slightly more safe. 

JJ, ever diligent, will work on paper with Hotch. Rossi will usually keep Hotch from overworking with a small, light conversation. 

Emily spreads out on the couch, and the rest of us pretend to not see JJ glance over at her as she looks at Emily with eyes that crave her attention.  

Derek will listen to music and I’ll close my eyes and strain my ears to make out the muffled tunes that escape his ears. I sit across from Derek and will share snacks that we grabbed from a dingy convenience store on the way to the tarmac. 

Spencer, who always sits next to me, will usually write his mother a letter. He writes her a letter on every plane ride after a case. I think back to the time that I asked him why he prefers letters to phone calls. He told me that he finds letters a forever way to say ‘I love you’. Taking your love and turning it into pen and paper makes it tangible, is what he told me. Until that day, I never really pegged Spencer to be a poet, but he continues to amaze me everyday. 

I think that he can feel me staring at him, because he suddenly stops writing and his eyes look up to meet mine. 

“She’s not doing so well, Y/N” Spencer says, his voice but a whisper above the hum of the jet and music spilling from Morgan’s headset. 

“Your mom?” I ask, my voice matching his. 

Spencer, for perhaps the first time I’ve known him, is quietly defeated.

“All I ever wanted to do was to save her, Y/N. Sometimes I feel like I’m not doing everything I should be. I thought that by the time I was 30 I would have cured schizophrenia. It’s just that sometimes I feel like maybe I settled” 

“Well, you know we really don’t hear about child genius when they are adults. And you have the same job and me, and I’m not where near as smart as you. So you feel like you’re letting the world down or even worse— yourself”

“You might not have the IQ points on a piece of paper, but you are nothing short of brilliant” Spencer says looking at me directly in my eyes. I hold his gaze for maybe a second and look down towards my lap in disbelief. 

“Spence,” I say. “You have to say that, otherwise I’d stop making you chocolate donuts.”

“I don’t need your donuts to convince me that you are an amazing agent. I mean,” He pauses and holds my stare again. 

“You’re so kind it hurts me sometimes. And watching you those kids today, you’d be a great mom, Y/N. You make everyone feel so comfortable just being around you, and I’d give up all the chocolate donuts and IQ points and bottomless coffee if it meant you’d stay in my life,” Spencer says looking at me. I rest my hand over his and we sit there in the silence and comfort of the other. 

Spencer Reid is a man of many hats. But I think his way with words just may be my favorite. I don’t dare to respond to him. I don’t trust myself not to kiss his pink lips as he looks at me like he loves me. I don’t trust myself to not tell him all the wonderful and sinful things I think about him. I don’t trust myself to not tell him how I was watching him play with those orphans back at the police station.

“What’s a best friend for, Spence?” I say to him. 

“Besides, ’d want nothing more than to be a mom one day,” I tell him.  We never really talked about our futures. Maybe it was the nature of our jobs. Having a lethal job means that the future is more of an arbitrary idea than a definite possibility.

“But,” I start. “I'm twenty-seven years old, I've no money and no prospects. I'm already a burden to my parents and I'm frightened” I quote with a smirk on my face that covers my trepidation at talking about love and children and the future with Spencer. 

“I’d never think that you’d be one to settle for a Mr. Collins, Y/N” Spencer tells me, a similar look on his face mirrors my own. “If anything, you’re a Lizzie and you deserve a Mr. Darcy” 

“You really think that Spence, because I’m not too sure.” 

“You never know, Y/N your Mr. Darcy can be anyone. Statistically speaking, you may have already met him or have mutual friends or he may even work in the Bureau. 

Sometimes I think that luck and fate are mocking me. Dangling Spencer in front of me; so real yet so far that I’m jumping to remain close to him. Touching his hand to mine feels like I’m teasing myself, just getting a taste of how his warm, strong hands fit into mine is enough to set my heart on fire. 

I let go of his hand and my palm is cold and lonely without his touching. My heart cools but there’s a yearning for him that’s so strong it’s like a magnetic field pulling me in. 

“I’m going to get a cup of coffee, would you like some?” He asks me as he scoots out of the seat.

“I’ll take a green tea, coffee this late makes me anxious” And sitting here holding your hand talking about children and my Mr Darcy makes me even more anxious. 

“Coming right up,” he says with a sad smile on his face that I try to convince myself is because of his mother’s illness and not because I dropped his hand.

Spencer returns to his spot beside me, sipping his coffee and making small notes in his letter. There’s a chill between us that can’t be quelled by even the hottest cup of tea. Spencer doesn’t talk to me again and even though it’s just a couple more hours, I miss his voice.

I have a routine for when I come home after cases, but that routine has been thrown out the window when I watched Spencer walk out of the bullpen without as much as a wave goodbye. We usually go to my apartment and make dinner together. My trip home is a lot more lonely without Spencer by my side. I try to stop my thoughts from going to him, but it’s impossible when he’s all I can think about. 

My apartment is dark and quiet when I walk in. It was left in shambles, with clothes and books strewn all over the couch, desk and floor. I can’t even bother myself to care about the dirty dishes stacked in the sink. I convince myself that those dishes are a tomorrow problem. 

I take out a small container of leftover fried rice and vegetables and pop into the microwave. Making my way into my bedroom I change out of my work clothes, that I’ve been in for nearly 30 hours. I don’t really think about what I’m putting on, as long as it does not smell it works with me at this point. 

My microwave dings, altering me that my mediocre meal is finished. But, before I can even reach the kitchen a small envelope slips through my door and falls on the floor. A sudden rush of fear courses through me. I flit my eyes to the corner safe where my gun rests. In my mind, I try to calculate the risk of punching the code or if I should just find out who is behind my door. I guess curiosity wins out, because I’m walking towards the door where the mysterious envelope sits. 

I reach down and instantly recognize the handwriting as Spencer’s. I can feel my heart pumping blood through my bodying as I think that some sadistic unsub is trying to toy with me by hurting Spencer.

I was not prepared for what I read. My fingers grazed over the messy penmanship. I don’t even let my mind wander as I pour over the words on the page, still fearing for the worse

Dear Y/N, 

Part of me can’t believe that I’m actually doing this. But something that you mentioned on the plane sparked something in me. You’re not a Charlotte, or a Lizzie or even a Jane, even though you are the kindest and most beautiful person I know. 

You are a Y/N. And I am wishing for anything to be your Mr. Darcy. Thinking about you, Y/N gets me thinking about love. How much I love when you look at me across from the table, or how your soft hands will brush against mine. It reminds me that I’m alive. Your gaze makes me blush and those small brushes make me forget to breathe. In your eyes I can see my future— our future. In your smile I can taste happiness. When I am with you the world moves in slow motion and time seems to move too fast. 

I hope that this does not ruin things, Y/N. I could not bear to lose you. I hope that you won’t hate me but even if you do, I’d rather you hate me and be in your life than not be in your life.

I think of love, and you, and my heart grows full and warm, and my breath stands still

Forever yours, 

Spencer

I read the letter silently. Not sure if I can believe it, but I so desperately want to. I throw all sense to the wind when I fling the door open, my eyes hunting for Spencer. He sits on the steps leading up to the next level, fiddling with his shoe laces. I run over to where he sits, not caring that my neighbors might be looking or caring that I look like I’m about to mug him. 

He makes me, cautious girl, a rebel. 

“Hey, you,” I say approaching him. Spencer moves to stand up and I reach out to hold his hands in mine. Like a puzzle piece they hit perfectly. His hands are not too warm or clammy or too cold and boney. They’re perfect. He hesitates and rubs his thumb against the back of my palm, like he does on the plane. 

“Hi, Y/N.” He starts nervously. “I guess you got the letter, and I just want to tell you-”

“What letter, Spence?” I say. I can’t help but to tease him. His face turns pale and green in the same breath. 

“Uh-um, you didn’t just get something in your mail a couple minutes ago?” He asks me so nervously that I almost feel bad at teasing him. Almost, he’s kind of cute when he’s stumbling over his words and I like to be one that makes him this fluttery. 

“I got your letter, Spencer,” I tell him. I think he half expects me to drop his hand and shatter his heart then and there. Maybe he came here and prepared himself for the worse. I think he’s done that his whole life, believing that he doesn’t deserve a chance at happiness. I’m kind of inclined to give him that happiness when it’s so intricately tied to mine. 

“You did?” 

“Yeah, who knew that you were quite the poet, Spencer.” I tell him as I brush his hair from his eyes. It’s gotten so long, but I like it. I’ve dreamt about threading my fingers threw it many times. It’s so soft and brown and frames his face. 

“You deserve a poet, Y/N. And I could only dream of being that person for you.” He says. Against even his own wishes he leans in closer to my touch. His cheek is warm in my palm and I feel his long eyelashes flutter against the ball of my thumb. 

“Luckily for you, Spence, I like scientists.” I say to him. 

“You--” 

“I love you back, Spencer.” I move to wipe the tears that flood down the bridge of his nose. 

“It was a really beautiful letter that you wrote, Spencer. All the right things in there, Emily Dickinson and Mr. Darcy,” I tell him pressing my cheek into his chest. 

“Well, I had to win you over, Y/N” 

“Ha!, Spencer you’ve had me since I’ve met you” 

He looks at me with a veil of disbelief. 

“Spencer Reid, in his purest form, is a beauty known nowhere else” 

“Is that what you think of me?” He asks me. 

“Why don’t you come inside and let me show you what I think of you Spencer?” I say leading him inside to my apartment, that was no longer so dark and lonely. 

[gubes-sweaters]

Unexpected Turns Prologue

Authors Note: So i’m back and I changed my account name btw (previously pie-curious)! If you despise any pregnancy plotlines this isn’t for you. I’m taking a break from Mind, Body, and Soul btw, but it will be back soon. I just can’t make myself write for it right now because I end up with really bad writer’s block. I really love dad!spence and I have terrible baby fever right now so this series is a bit self-indulgent ngl. Also, I’m trying out writing from a second person pov I’m not sure if I’m going to stick with it or not but this series will be in second person pov. This is just a brief background and as always the gif isn’t mine. *edit on 2/1/2022 i’ve added banners to all old chapters that didn’t have them before*

Content Warning: arguing, toxic relationship

Word Count: 900

Prologue

Life always seems to take shitty unexpected terms when things are finally going great. You met an amazing group of friends and you got an amazing job right out of college, but what do you get in return. Nonstop arguments with your boyfriend of three years. Working at the BAU was never your dream job; you certainly didn’t go to college with the intent of working with rude detectives and looking at crime scene photos all day. It was actually one of your best friends JJ who mentioned they were looking for a new communication liaison who will work from Quantico occasionally alongside their tech analyst Penelope Garcia. At first, you had to think because it was still a bit of a move and your boyfriend would’ve had to get a new job. After some convincing from JJ, you both packed up your old apartments and bought a house together. You were ready to open up a new chapter in your life. Especially since it was beside JJ because she’s practically your big sister.

JJ and you had met when you were kids. You moved in right next to her a couple of years after her sister passed away. She missed the little bickering and play fighting that came with the territory of having a sister. So you both became attached at the hip, and she quickly took the role of an overprotective momma bear with you. Even though, JJ moved to Virginia you guys still kept in close contact despite the distance between Pennsylvania and Virginia. Weeks after you graduated JJ came up to PA to celebrate and tell you about the job opportunity at the BAU since she was going to become a full time profiler. Your job is mostly figuring out which cases to handle when, sorting through cold cases, talking to the PD, and various other odds and ins. Hotch had taken on any other responsibilities that JJ previously had. Currently, you’re only two years into the job and the opportunity to leave with the rest of the BAU has been few and far between.

When you first joined the team Emily, Morgan, and Penelope instantly opened up to you. On the other hand, Rossi, Hotch, and Reid were a bit tougher to crack. It was a bit intimidating because you were slightly younger than everyone else; four years younger than the youngest member at the time Spencer Reid. Regardless you still remember feeling overwhelmingly welcomed on the first day. You first saw Garcia, and she was the personification of sunshine. She instantly came over and offered you a hug. She then showed you to your shared office, which she decorated your side with trinkets and brightly colored stickers to help you feel welcomed.

After a bit, Hotch and JJ came in and asked how you were doing. Hotch then took you to meet everyone else; since you already met Hotch during your interview process it wasn’t too awkward. Emily introduced herself then offered to have you over for wine and a movie night when you guys have a day off. Morgan gave you the nickname angel right away and now that you two are a lot closer sometimes he even takes it as far as calling you angel cakes only because he knows you don’t mind it. He says he calls you that because you’re so sweet, but you have a feeling angel cakes is referring to something else. Hotch and Rossi both took a paternal role with you as they did with the whole team as time went on. As for Spencer Reid, he was shy and quiet at first just giving you a small wave and slight nod. Hotch introduced Spencer to you for him and before you knew it you had your first case, but luckily it was close enough that they didn’t have to travel. The next day he didn't even introduce himself formally at first he walked up to your desk in your shared office with Penelope as if you’ve been there for years and pointed out a book you were reading during your lunch. He soon picked up a conversation with you about the things the two of you have in common.Your friendship with Spencer blossomed very fast after that. Soon you two were hanging out after work and on days off. That's when things took a rough turn. Even though before moving you told your boyfriend Jo that you would be gone a lot with this job, he assured you that it was okay. That’s why when you came home at one am one night it shocked you that he decided it was a good time to pick a fight that you found absolutely ridiculous. 

Taglist: @haylaansmi @rexorangecouny​

[amphxtrite]

spencer reid x reader

chapter 2 • coffee or tea?

series summary: a new case brings the BAU to New York, investigating a string of murders involving girls who appear very similar. The unsub is relentless, desperate to fill the needs of his fantasy. In the midst of it, spencer meets the girl he been writing with, but had yet to see, prompting a love to blossom in the midst of the storm. Is disaster inevitable? Or will the duplicator’s rein fall?

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, murder, mainly fluff this chapter

chapter summary: the investigation continues, but the team is in dire need of rest after a late night of work. Spencer makes a call to the reader and a plan is put in place to meet, the only question Spencer will have to answer today is a simple one, coffee or tea?

taglist: @le-weasley-simp @thatsonezesty13 @paperandplasma @padsfirewhisky @clubfairy @kiramdd @peach-cliquee @goldeng1rl8​ (message/comment to be added)

word count: 5.7k

“Hotch here.” The unit chief’s voice states, raising his cell to his ear.

“Hey Hotch, this guy’s a romantic, he’s leaving roses and quotes from books at the scenes, we’ve found two already.” Rossi’s voice sounds through the phone.

“Roses? You don’t think-” 

“Yeah I do, he’s keeping them to try and make them fall in love with him.” Rossi sighs.

“But he’s angry, can’t handle the rejection for long.” Hotch finishes, nodding to himself. “Thanks Rossi, if you find anything else let me know.” He chimes, hanging up the phone and going to find JJ.

“Agent Hotchner!” A voice calls to the profiler, prompting him to turn.

“Yes that’s me.” He responds.

“Sorry, I’m Detective Dakota Trent, I’m also working on the case with Detective Kimathi, she’s just at the crime scene.” A brunette with close cropped hair greets the agent, shaking his hand.

“Good, have we come up with anything new yet?” Hotch asks, following Detective Trent to the interrogation rooms.

“Well we’ve talked to both Olivia’s fiancee and Georgia’s boyfriend. They’ve both got solid alibis and people to back up their claims, it’s not them.” Detective Trent shrugs.

“Have you heard about the roses yet?” Hotch questions, examining each of every person’s movements behind the glass.

“Yeah, Kimathi called me just before I found you, we’ve got a romantic serial killer?” They ask.

“What he’s experiencing probably isn’t love, it’d be impossible for him to feel it. My guess is this is an obsession over someone he’s lost or been rejected by.” Hotch explains. Detective Tent nods and points to another direction.

“Agent Jareau just finished interviewing Georgia’s family, you can find her through there.” They smile, Hotch thanks them and steps through.

The unit chief walks down a hallway and peers past each door until he finds the blonde sitting in an empty room; going over the case file again. 

“How are the families?” Hotch asks, stepping in.

“Torn apart.” JJ sighs, closing the file and leaning against the wall behind her. “Olivia’s mom just had enough in her to clear Alice, then she broke down into tears. Isabelle’s parents had it worse though; she was an only child, a miracle one too, her mother had troubles conceiving.” She continues. 

“And Georgia’s parents.” Hotch questions.

“Tried to be strong, but-” JJ pauses. “They could barely look at each other, let alone me.” She concludes sadly.

“Have any of them given any possible suspects?”

“Lots, mainly ‘strange’ ex boyfriends, but I had Garcia check them out and they’re clean.” The blonde shrugs, standing and following Hotch back out.

“They’ve given us a room to set up in, When Spencer gets back I want you to help him come up with a geographic profile.” Hotch nods, opening a door to a room filled with whiteboards and a large table.

“You got it, and maybe ask them to bring a coffee machine in, we’re gonna be up for a while.” JJ giggles, opening the case file again and placing the pictures of each scene up on the whiteboard.

“Hey we’re back from the ME, toxicology found ketamine in both victim one and two.” Prentiss states, opening the door to the board room with Spencer in tow.

“But not victim number three, does that mean he’s devolving?” JJ questions.

“Or she was a victim of opportunity, he couldn’t pass up the chance so he took her.” Spencer includes, shrugging his shoulders, and taking a seat next to JJ after seeing the map in front of her.

“Again it’s hard to know, but Morgan and Rossi found flowers at two of the dump sites so far.” Hotch tells Prentiss and Reid.

“Flowers?” Emily asks.

“A note too, some quotes about finding true love, we’re hoping you could help us with them kid.” Rossi suddenly chimes from behind the group, seeming disgusted at the thought of it. “We found the third one by the way, hidden in some bushes by the bridge.” 

“What did the cards say, Rossi?” Spencer questions, removing his gaze from the map.

“The first one said ‘I’ve never had a moment’s doubt. I love you. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one. My reason for life.’ Second one said ‘He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.’ Third one said ‘Do I love you? My god, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches.” Rossi lists reading off his tablet.

“All of those have to do with love alright, this unsub is absolutely infatuated with the idea of finding his true love.” JJ notes, looking at her own tablet.

“Maybe this unsub has some form of erotomania? Thinking all these girls love him, so he kidnaps them only for them to ruin his fantasy?” Derek suggests, fiddling with a pen in his hands.

“It would make sense why he’s keeping the girls only to kill them, and why they’re fed while he’s holding them.” Prentiss adds, looking to Spencer who looks deep in thought..

“Well now that we know more let’s get to work, we’ll deliver the profile in the morning so every officer can hear.” Hotch states, glancing out the window at the sky which had faded to an eerie black.

“I’ve got it!” Spencer suddenly exclaims. The team looks to him curiously.

“The first quote was from Atonement by Ian McEwan, the second quote was from Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, and the last one was from The Princess Bride by William Goldman!” He explains, standing from his seat and writing each quote on the whiteboard.

“These are all famous quotes about love, some of my favourite books too. This unsub is educated, definitely enough to read classic literature-”

“Wait Spence, the other two I can get, but you’ve read The Princess Bride?” JJ asks, excitement lacing her tone.

“Um yes, I saw it at the library so I decided I’d read it.” Spencer murmurs, turning to the whiteboard again to hide the hitch in his voice. The truth was it was another book you had practically begged him to read, he couldn’t say no. Spencer would have never guessed it would have aided him in a case.

“Oh Spence, I love that book too, you should come over and watch the movie with me and Henry, I’ve been meaning to show him.” JJ continues.

Spencer sighs in relief. “Yeah that sounds good JJ.”

---

“You’ve got to be joking.” A tired voice chimes from outside the door.

Hotch glances up at the voice, JJ inhales deeply as she wakes up, Prentiss and Spencer both take long sips from their coffee cups and Derek snores in his seat.

“Can we help you Detective Trent?” Hotch asks, turning to face them. Dakota doesn’t miss the dark bags under the unit chief’s eyes.

“Yes as a matter of fact, go to sleep!” Dakota smiles in a sickly sweet manner.

“I don’t think-”

“They’re right Hotch, you know we aren’t much help dead tired.” Rossi practically pleads.

“I could use some solid food too.” Emily adds, swirling around what remained of her fourth cup of coffee that night.

“You guys have a hotel for a reason, pretty much every other officer is either patrolling or at home, get some rest and we’ll see you in the morning.” Dakota smirks, waving the team off and heading towards the exit.

Hotch sighs and rubs his eyelids, feeling the relief of closing them before opening them again.

“Derek, Derek wake up!” JJ mutters, tapping on Morgan’s shoulder until he finally slumps forward, awake.

“Is it morning yet?” He grumbles.

“No, but we’re heading to the hotel now, and getting food.” JJ smiles, watching Derek perk up at the mention of something to eat. “What’s everyone in the mood for?” She asks, turning to everyone.

“M’ good with anything.” Rossi yawns, leaning against the door frame.

“There’s a shawarma place close to the hotel?” Spencer proposes, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the joint.

The team nods in agreement, shaking the tiredness off to walk back to the hotel.

Spencer enjoyed moments like this, when his team didn’t have to focus on a case for just a few moments, where he could let his mind rest for a minute.

“Hey player, meet any lovely New York ladies yet?” Derek chuckles throwing his arm over Spencer’s shoulder.

Scratch that, this is not what he had in mind.

“Nope.” He responds plainly.

“Right, right… What about that lady you’ve been writing too?” Derek teases, watching Spencer avert his gaze to the sky.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He murmurs. Derek’s smile grows.

“A mystery woman, Spencer I didn’t think you had it in you? Is she older? Rich maybe?” Derek lists playfully as Spencer rolls his eyes.

“Sorry Derek, maybe you’re just thinking too much.” Spencer shrugs, digging his hands into his pockets and sighing.

“Alright, I’ll back off.” Derek sighs, lifting his hands in mock surrender, only half telling the truth.

“Take a left here.” Spencer nods, pointing to a dimly lit building. “The shop is down there.” Spencer nods.

“I’ll go with the genius, you guys head back to the hotel.” Derek says, waving off the tired agents as he pushes Spencer forward towards the store. 

“Hey Morgan, do you mind if I call Garcia, I’ll meet you inside.” Spencer smiles as they reach their destination. 

Derek thinks nothing of it and nods, turning to swing open the door and order.

Spencer sighs and glances to both sides before turning and walking in the direction of the payphone. He had chosen this spot not only for convenience sake, but because there was a payphone right outside. It had been a while since Spencer had heard from you, and he felt bad not being able to read your letters.

Taking a deep breath he steps into the phone booth and dials your number.

“Thank you for subscribing to Lynn’s cat shop. Would you like to hear a fact about cat paws?” Your distinct voice chimes from the other end of the line.

“Well I do already know quite a bit, but hit me.” Spencer jokes back, smiling when he hears your audible gasp.

“Dr. Reid!” You laugh, sitting up straight from your lying position in bed.

“Hey what happened to cat facts?” Spencer teases gently, leaning against the side of the booth.

“I thought it was a spam call!” You justify, looking at the number again. “Hey Doc, this is a New York number-” You say slowly, putting two and two together. “You’re here! Are you on a case?”

“Yes actually.” Spencer replies with a soft smile. 

“Is it about that ‘duplicator’ guy I’m seeing on the news?”

“Yes, but don’t worry we’re doing well with the profile, and he’s only killing people that fit his victimology.” Spencer reassures you.

You remain quiet for a moment.

“Y/n? Are you still there?” Spencer asks, eyebrows drawing together at your sudden silence.

“Oh yeah, s-sorry Doc. Hey if you’re up for it, we could- meet up?” You ask, turning the conversation and popping the ‘p.’

“O-Oh.” Spencer stammers, caught off guard by your sudden proposition. “I-I mean I do have to work on the case…” Spencer sighs.

“But?” You plead, leaning into your phone.

“I can meet you earlier? Six am maybe?” Spencer offers quietly, feeling his voice break.

“Ooh you’re pushing it Doctor Reid, but I’ll manage.” You tease.

“Great! Great, um where do you want to meet?” Spencer asks, relief showing through his voice.

“There’s a park beside campus, my favourite spot is the field beside the cafe.” You smirk, dropping a not-so subtle hint.

“I-I’ll be there! Yeah See you then!” Spencer mutters in an excited tone.

“Sounds like a plan. Bye Spence!” You say in a sing-song voice before hanging up.

There it was again, Spence. No matter how many times he’s heard his name before, there was something special about you saying his name. Something that made him feel good.

“Spence…” He murmurs to himself, hanging the phone up and walking into the shawarma shop.

“Bout time pretty boy, what were you even calling about.” Derek asks, as he takes a bite from his wrap.

“Just checking if forensic found anything on the flowers yet.” Reid lies coolly.

“Anything?” Derek says in a muffled voice, throwing a wrap to the brunette.

“Not yet.” Spencer says in a slight yelp, just catching it before it falls.

“Oh well, it’ll probably be there in the morning.” Derek shrugs, picking up the bagged wraps. “Thanks again.” Derek waves to the owner before exiting the store.

“Did you know the origin of the word shawarma comes from the Turkish word çevirme, which means ‘turning’ which makes sense because of the-”

“Just enjoy the food pretty boy, just enjoy it.” Derek sighs, pushing the Shawarma up against Spencer’s mouth.

“Mm-” The younger agent protests, pushing his face back and snatching his shawarma back.

“Hurry up genius, the team is waiting.” Derek laughs.

The brunette rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but speeds up his walk beside his friend anyways.

---

Spencer wakes up to the sound of an alarm in his ear and without skipping a beat he sits up and throws his covers off, careful not to wake Derek sleeping in the bed next to him.

Slowly, he picks up his bag and tip toes to the bathroom, glancing at his watch, the time reads 5:00 am, still dark out. Spencer nods to himself.

Pulling on a white collared shirt and a black- no, black was too formal. Maybe red instead? No, this isn’t a date… “Blue.” Spencer murmurs, placing the tie around his neck and tying it slowly, being sure not to mess up. “Hi I’m Doc- no wait, hi I’m Spencer.” The brunette murmurs to himself as he ties his shoes. Spencer curses himself for only bringing converses and striped socks, but his jeans covered most of it to his relief.

“Hi I’m Spencer-”

“Spence, who are you talking to this early in the morning?” Derek’s drowsy voice groans from his spot in bed.

“I’m heading out early, I’ll see you later Morgan!” Spencer calls, pulling on his jacket to fend off the cool November air and swinging his bag over his shoulder so he could head back to the police department afterwards.

Stepping off the elevator, the hotel was practically empty, Spencer sighs in relief, he must have looked like a psycho constantly fixing his hair and tie. 

He exits the front door into the windy New York outdoors, suddenly regretting not wearing his scarf, but regardless, pushing on.

tousled brown hair swaying in the wind, Spencer checks himself in the glass of a building beside him, licking his chapped lips and swiveling his head back to the pavement ahead of him, careful not to bump into anyone.

Taking another turn, Spencer sees the sign for your university campus and feels his heart begin to race.

All of his thoughts began to jumble. What was his name again? Where was he going? A sudden squawk from a crow brings him back to himself, but his hot face and racing heart were impossible to shake.

As he grows closer to the coffee shop you mentioned to him, he begins to stumble, his feet beginning to fail him. He’s able to play it off as a funny walk, but when he spots the coffee shop, and beside it, the field. He completely stops.

A man grunts behind him, cursing at Spencer before turning and walking around him.

“Sorry.” Spencer murmurs, walking to the side of the pavement before crossing the street quickly.

Glancing down at his wrist again, his watch reads 5:45. Great, now he just had to sit and wait-

“What?”

Spencer’s thoughts are cut short when his vision is cut off by something...warm. Hands.

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone-” A sweet voice whispers in his ear.

The melodic voice from across the phone, it was you!

“W-We find it with another.” He stammers out, smiling as he hears your laughter.

“Doctor Spencer Reid, finally we meet.” You sigh, removing your hands from his face and dropping them at your sides.

“Y-Y/n-” Spencer says, turning to face you. 

He freezes for a moment as his eyes adjust to the light again. Then his jaw drops.

“Y-You’re…” Spencer’s eyes follow your y/h/c hair, jawline, eye shape and height. 

“No, no, no, no.” Spencer murmurs, glancing from side to side, overanalyzing every single person in your vicinity.

This was impossible. So, so impossible, yet there you were. Your description matched those girls perfectly, yet here you were out in the open talking to him. You weren’t safe.

“I-I know Doc, but it’s okay, I’ve got my pepper spray and everything!” You reassure Spencer, squeezing his hand gently.

“Y/n, y-you fit this unsub’s type, you can’t just be out here like this it’s not safe!” Spencer snaps, pulling his jacket off by the sleeves and swinging it over your head to hide you.

Your eyes widen and Spencer’s stomach fills with dread.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled. I just want you to be safe.” Spencer explains, lowering his voice and leaning closer to you.

“It’s alright Spence. I knew the risk, but I just wanted to see you.” You mutter, crossing your arms and sighing.

“Hey, you- you finished Love and Living.” Spencer smiles softly, remembering the quote you whispered to him when you covered his eyes.

“Yeah, it just kind of stuck with me. Thomas Merton can really write.” You smirk, nodding your head a little.

“Well I certainly prefer him over J.C?” Spencer asks, sarcastically tilting his chin.

“J.K, but you already knew that.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“I did?” Spencer jokes, eyes widening when he finally realizes how close the two of you are to each other, his eyes shyly draw downwards.

“Ahem?” You smirk. “Eyes up here Doc.” 

“O-Oh it’s not like that, I swear.” Spencer rushes, quickly looking back up in panic.

“Hey Spence! I’m just teasing, it’s alright.” You stammer in a hushed tone, gently moving your hands to cup Spencer’s face as reassurance.

The hits just kept coming today. Spencer internally trembles, but nods, darting his tongue out again to hide his quivering lip.

“Hey, since we’re both just standing here, do you want to grab something to eat?” You shrug, awkwardly retreating your hands to your chest.

There it was again, the sound of his name on your voice.

“C-Coffee?” Spencer sputters. “How about coffee?” Spencer repeats, clearing his voice and moving his hands from your shoulders to his sides.

“Yeah, coffee sounds great Doc.” You nod, taking Spencer’s hand and pulling him forwards.

“I’ve been going to this place since my first year here, amazing coffee, tea, and even seasonal sodas.” You gush, squeezing his hand and opening the door to the local shop.

“Any idea of what you want to order?” You ask, turning to face the brunette and shifting his jacket from your head to your arms.

“Uh, regular coffee is fine?” Spencer’s voice comes out almost as a question, he feels himself growing timid at the size of the menu.

“I’ll tell Choi ssi to surprise you.” 

Spencer nods, his lips pulling up into a line.

“Ah if it isn’t my favourite little boba pearl, what can I get for you today?” A man in his late forties calls to you with a smile. “And who might this be?” Mr. Choi motions to Spencer.

“Choi ssi, I’d like you to meet my Doc.” You smile. Spencer feels his face heat up at ‘my’

“I-I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” He explains, nodding to the man behind the counter.

“I’m Viktor Choi, and Doctor? Wow, how old are you kid?” Mr. Choi questions in slight awe.

“Twenty five.” Spencer answers plainly, shrugging his shoulders.

Viktor’s jaw drops.

“Yeah I get that a lot, are we gonna order now?” Spencer blurts, turning back to you.

“Yeah of course. I’ll have my boba, and Doc-” You pause, tapping Spencer on the chest. “Would like to be surprised.” You smirk.

“Oh adventurous.” Choi smirks back to you, raising his eyebrows. You nod.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrow, feeling something strange was awaiting him.

“Oh you’ll love it!” You smile, placing a paper bill on the counter and pulling Spencer towards a table.

From the shake of Mr. Choi’s head and your small smirk, Spencer made an educated guess you gave him more than what was expected.

“Here.” You point to an empty table beside one of the large windows that wrapped around the shop.

“A window seat.” Spencer smirks, sitting in the chair across from you.

“What, you have a profiler fact for me?” You tease.

“Well, people who prefer window seats are more selfish and easily irritable.” Spencer shrugs feeling his smile widen. 

“Hey I just like to feel the sun.” You protest, looking out into the busy traffic not too far from you.

“I see.” Spencer smirks, glancing over to see you gazing into the sunlight.

Spencer is caught off guard at first, beauty isn’t usually a thing he notices, but it would be impossible for him not to admire you.

Your e/c eyes seemed to glow in the sunrise, your hair shined and your smile grew and seemed to shine brighter than the sun could ever be, figuratively though, obviously. 

Strange, Spencer felt his hands clam up and heart began to race again.

“Order for miss boba and her doc!” Mr. Choi calls, drawing both yours and Spencer’s attention.

“You seemed like a coffee kind of guy.” He shrugs as you bring the two drinks back to your table.

Spencer smiles in acknowledgement before looking down at what looked to be a simple coffee with a rim of milk foam and- Spencer furrows his eyebrows, chocolate shavings.

“Don’t be deceived, his coffee packs a punch.” You smirk, stirring your drink with the straw poking out of it.

“Good.” Spencer nods, drawing a laugh from you, as he lifts the mug to his lips and blows on the hot liquid, finally getting a taste.

The first thing that hits Spencer is the sweetness, just the right amount that made him smile as he drank it. The next was how rich it is, practically gliding over his tongue like melted chocolate, of course just not as viscous. 

You must have noticed a change in his demeanor because you begin to giggle to yourself.

You couldn’t help it, the look on Spencer’s face was too good not to notice.

His eyes widened, brows raised to his hairline and he tilted the cup higher in an instant to get more.

“Adorable.” You sigh to yourself, not realizing you had said it out loud until Spencer suddenly chokes on his drink.

“Oh my god, Spence are you alright?” You worry, holding a napkin to his chin as drops of coffee spill past his lips. 

The brunette nods, bringing the drink back down onto the table to see he had already drunken half of it.

“It’s good right?” You grin, pulling the napkin away but not moving back just yet.

Spencer nods, already feeling a buzz, but unsure if it was from the coffee or your sudden proximity, or you calling him adorable.

His ears felt as though they were burning, and this time he couldn’t blame the coffee.

Timidly glancing up, it seemed as though you could say the same for your cheeks.

Spencer lifts his mug up again to take another sip of his beverage, clearing his throat a bit before speaking again.

“I-If it makes you feel any better, I find you rather endearing, myself.” Spencer says just above a whisper, too nervous to look you back in the eye.

“Thank you Spencer.” You smile, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest and in your face.

Without thinking you look up and tilt Spencer’s chin back up to face you. His eyes read amazement and sheepishness, prompting a giggle from you.

Usually Spencer would have pushed the hand touching him away, ready to list facts about germs to make sure no one in the general vicinity would try that again. But there was something about his racing heart and your gentle hands that smelt of lavender, that made it impossible for any words to come out at all, he barely wanted to move.

“Hey Doc, do you feel like going for a walk?” You ask, stroking your thumb down Spencer’s cheek to catch his attention again. 

“Yeah, yeah a walk.” Spencer glances down at his watch, 6:24.

“I have to be back at the station for seven, but I can walk you back to your dorm?” Spencer offers, half suggesting it just to make sure you got back safely.

“What a gentleman.” You smirk standing and prompting Spencer to follow you. “You can drop the cup off at the counter over there.” You say, Spencer nods, standing and placing the mug at the counter for an employee to sweep it away in seconds.

“Now come on, we’ve still got time for me to give you a little tour.” You grin, putting a bit too much emphasis on little.

To the profiler’s surprise, you take his hand into yours as you wave goodbye to Mr. Choi.

“Bye my little boba pearl and Dr. Boyfriend!” He shouts out to you and Spencer as you exit the door. Spencer doesn’t even have time to sputter out a correction before you’re pulling him towards your campus. 

“Isn’t he the best! He and his husband have been running that place for years, the best coffee in the city if you ask me.” You chuckle, slowing your speed to a steady walk beside Spencer.

“Yeah, we should go again sometimes.” Spencer shrugs, finally closing his hands around yours, growing accustomed to the feeling.

“D-Did you know that multiple studies, including one conducted at the University of California Los Angeles, show that human touch triggers the release of oxytocin, in our brain. Oxytocin is-” 

“A neurotransmitter that increases feelings of trust, generosity and compassion, and decreases feelings of fear and anxiety, aka the love hormone.” You finish, smiling up at him reassuringly.

You knew Spencer began listing off random facts when he felt he’d made an atmosphere awkward. You’d started noticing these cues once the two of you began talking on the phone, so you made sure to ensure everything was fine to him. 

“Yeah, t-that’s the one.” Spencer mutters.

The brunette was always cut off while he tried to explain a statistic or fact. He knew it was never to hurt him in any way, but it still got frustrating for him when he was talked over.

When you cut him off on the other hand,  it is to finish his sentence and complete the fact. He was starting to see why so many people found this gesture romantic.

Your smile grows as you notice Spencer’s eyes downcast on your hands.

Rounding the corner deeper into your campus, you stop at a couple spots to tell Spencer more about your school life and how your studies were going.

“I can’t believe I’m really graduating this year.” You sigh dreamily, looking up into the sky.

“Do you have any ideas where you may want to work?” Spencer asks as you lead him to a fountain in the centre of a field.

“Well, not exactly, but I’ve still got time to decide.” You grin, digging into your pocket for something Spencer couldn’t see.

“You know the BAU will always be an option.” Spencer shrugs, watching you pull out a shiny quarter.

“I dunno doc. All that stuff might not be for me.” You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment before flipping the coin into the water of the fountain.

“Yeah I guess serial killers and psychopaths aren’t everyone's cup of tea.” Spencer says seriously, causing you to break out in a fit of giggles.

“Do you believe in wishes coming true Spence?” You continue laughing, pulling Spencer in the direction of your dorm.

Spencer’s head snaps up at his name, but his eyebrows furrow.

“Well the act of throwing valuables into water hasn’t always been for wishing, it used to be for worshipping gods and other deities, but as the years went by it became popularized to wish for things by throwing something of value into the basic fundamental of human life.” Spencer pauses looking to you apologetically.

“It’s okay Spence, I’m listening.” You smile.

“Oh okay- First used to honour gods, people began asking for favours such as a good harvest or for a loved one to get well from a sickness which is where wishing wells came from.” Spencer nods, squeezing your hand as a silent ‘thank you.’

“So to answer my question-” You draw on, looking curiously into Spencer’s hazel eyes.

“While there’s no sound science to prove anything, I don’t see why people can’t have something to believe in, as long as they understand if it doesn’t come true.” Spencer shrugs, stopping when you do, outside a large building.

“So I’ll take that as a yes, but.” You smirk.

“I suppose, besides sometimes the wishes do come true out of pure coincidence, but you can never say that.” Spencer shrugs.

“It sounds like you speak from experience.” You laugh, nudging him in the side.

“My friend Penelope wished I’d get my haircut, but didn’t tell me until I did, three months later.” Spencer chuckles.

Both of you knew you were supposed to say goodbye now, if you remained just standing there any longer you’d become a problem for sleep-deprived students. Not a good mix.

But neither of you could find the will to move, your hands stayed interlocked and your smiles remained as Spencer began talking more about a couple books and some more facts about wishing wells.

“Y/n?” A loud voice calls to you from afar. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” The voice chimes again, slowly getting closer.

“Oh I’m sorry Adira, I was meaning to tell you.” You apologize, letting go of Spencer’s hand to turn around and speak to the person calling you.

For a minute Spencer forgot how to function his hand, he just sort of hovered it in the air for a second, before regaining his train of thought and dropping his hand back to his side and turning.

“I’ve been worried sick y/n, you haven’t been answering your phone and with that ‘duplicator’ guy running around-” Adira begins, cutting off to wrap her arms around you. “Don’t do that again, please.”

“Alright, I’m sorry Adira, but I had a friend with me, see.” You smile, turning her to face Spencer.

“Hello.” Spencer greets awkwardly, placing his hands into his pockets and nodding.

“Wait he sounds just like-” Adira pauses. “That’s Doc?” They pause, jaw dropping as she begins tugging on your sleeve.

“Yes- that’s him.” You smile, tapping on her hand to try and get her to stop before your face overheats.

“Okay okay!” Adira laughs, rolling her eyes as she fixes her headscarf and extends her hand.

“Nice to finally meet you, y/n has not stopped talking about you since you started writing to each other-”

“Adira!” You intervene, bringing your hand to your face to hide your blush.

“Wow you’re even cuter than the photo-”

“Okay, we still have that project to work on right, let’s go.” You laugh nervously, pushing Adira towards the door of your dorm room as she remembers something.

“Oh right, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.”

“Perfect, we’ll finish it up when we get inside.” You smile.

“Nice jacket by the way, where’d you get it?” Adira comments, poking the black suit jacket on your arm, and then back again at Spencer standing in a collared shirt and tie.

“Y/n!” She laughs teasingly, turning around and grabbing a hold of your shoulders.

“I’ll head in on my own, now have fun, but not too much fun.” She smirks, pushing you back towards Spencer before walking into the building and throwing you a wink.

“I-I’m-”

“There’s no need to apologize, I’m rather flattered you talk about me.” Spencer shrugs, looking down at the ground subtly.

“Well of course I do, you’ve become a big part of my life y’know.” You smile, taking Spencer’s large hands into yours.

Spencer smiles fondly, hiding the internal regret he held, the profiler had yet to tell any of his friends about you, wanting to have this one thing for himself in his twisted world.

Squeezing your hands, Spencer nods and glances down at his watch.

“I should get back to the station.” The brunette murmurs.

“You should get back to the station.” You reply, loosening your grip only for Spencer to pull you back.

“I-I’m happy I got to meet you by the way, please call me if you need anything, or just to talk.” Spencer pushes his lips back in a forced smile, he was reluctant to leave you alone.

“I will Spence. Catch that guy for me alright?” You smirk, wrapping Spencer in a short hug before shrugging off his jacket, placing it over Spencer’s shoulders and turning to finally walk into the building.

Spencer barely had time to react to your gesture, but while he processed it, he simply stood there. It was as though you had left an imprint of yourself on him, a reminder you were real, and really held him. He was truly awestruck.

His suit jacket held the faintest scent of your perfume, the feeling of your arms lingered on his torso and his hands still reached for yours though you were long gone.

This feeling was foreign to the brunette, but not rejected. Spencer quite enjoyed it after all.

After a few moments of not moving the brunette finally picks up his feet and turns to leave, not noticing the figure not too far away clenching his fists so hard, blood begins to trickle slowly out.

[ssa-dg]

Walls are Built to be Knocked Down

Overview: this takes place in season 7 episode 2. You joined the BAU after the death of Emily and JJ’s departure. However when they both come back, everyone is shook up.

TW: mentions of drugs, murder, rape (it takes place in the episode). Adult themes

Relationship: Spencer Reid x (female) reader

Word count: 3352

Author’s note: so I have been wanting to write another short story about Spencer but couldn’t get myself to do it. Glad I got inspired by episode 2 of season 7. This is when Spencer is still mad at JJ about Emily. The unsub is the one who is neuro-divergent and is obsessed with his brother’s wife. If you have any suggestions on how to write a better Spencer Reid, I would love that. I struggle with writing an accurate Reid because he is supposed to be so smart and I’m the type of person who has been told she’s “dumb” so it’s an insecurity of mine. Give me advice if you have any just be nice. P.S. the formatting on this is so weird. I don’t have my laptop rn because it’s getting fixed and the mobile version of this app sucks lol

You and Spencer were never really good friends. You two were good coworkers and you always got along well, but it took Spencer a lot to let people behind his wall. So when you joined the team from the whit collar unit, after Emily’s death. You could tell everyone on your new team was grieving, and because you didn’t know them all that well you didn’t pry. Though slowly each member let things slide to you about their grieving. You didn’t expect that to happen but you weren’t surprised. You were always a reliable person, old friends would come out of nowhere just to talk to you about their problems, or random people in cabs, on the subway, etc. You just had that air about you, one that was dependable, nonjudgmental, and understanding. Your family called it your superpower.

So when Emily turned out to be alive and JJ and Hotch knew the whole time, the team was stunned. You didn’t fully comprehend the travesty of what they went through but you understood the pain and relief that accompanied them. Knowing they probably had 100 million different conflicting emotions swirling in them you suspected they’d be going through “it” the next months.

As JJ walked into the BAU with Prentiss talking about how she had passed all the qualifications to finally become a profiler, JJ saw Spencer come out of the elevator. “Hey, where have you been?” JJ asked him, “I wanted to do brunch this weekend”

“I had to deal with some stuff with my mom,” he flipped through the pages in a file to avoid eye contact with his friend, “have you seen Y/N?” he finished.

“Uh, she’s at her desk I think,” Spencer sped off to your desk. “He hates me,” JJ finished.

You sat at your desk looking over case files when Spencer came rushing up to you. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you and looked around.

“What’s up?” You asked expecting there to be a reason he came to your desk.

“Nothing just wanted to say hi,” he saw JJ and Prentiss go into the round table room.

“Well, hi,” you laughed and followed his gaze to your two co-workers. “Ahh, I see,” you said out loud.

His head looked down at you,” what do you mean ‘ahh, I see,’?” He was obviously annoyed by your statement.

You raised your hands up in surrender, “nothing, nothing. Shall we go?” You stood up and tilted your head towards the conference room. He nodded his head.

When you guys walked in and you went to sit in an open seat next to Morgan, Spencer lightly grabbed your elbow and pulled you the opposite way and had you sit between him Emily and JJ. You just looked at him knowing what he was doing. Although you gave him a glare to indicate you didn’t like being manhandled by him, you secretly enjoyed it. You were unsure why it did it but it created a feeling in you that you were not ready to associate with your coworker. He just gave you a bit of a ‘don’t-say-anything’ glare and looked back down at the file. You rolled your eyes and felt Prentiss looking at you. You shrugged your shoulders as if to say ‘I don’t know why he just did that’.

In walked Rossi and Garcia, “look master of all things Italian, I am having a Fellini festival at my house this weekend and I must serve the beautiful food of his country.” Garcia insisted.

“Maybe you should show a Disney movie and stick with burgers,” Rossi responded, still a bit offended by the pig substitute.

“You know, Rossi, you could always give Penelope a cooking lesson,” Derek suggested.

“I could help,” you spoke up from across the table. Everyone looked at you confused, “You all act like I’m not Italian. I used to go back there every summer to visit my extended family,” you rolled your eyes and defended yourself.

“Oh my gosh that would be amazing. That would be like- that would be like the iron chef meets the BAU,” Garcia looked back and forth between you and Rossi. You felt Spencer’s eyes on you and looked at him. His scrunched up eyebrows and set jaw told you that he didn’t know that about you or maybe he forgot. You just smiled at him, and tilted your head like it was nothing.

“And we could do it at your house,” Garcia looked over at Rossi.

“I don’t have a house. I have a mansion,” he laughed.

“All right let’s get started,” Hotch instructed.

Everytime JJ talked at the round table, Reid couldn’t even look at her. He kept his gaze down and you saw the muscle in his jaw bone tighten as he clenched his it. The victims were girls who all looked the same, helping a bit to narrow down the victimology. The dump sights also helped narrow down the geographical, although nothing was ever set in stone right off the bat. Everytime Spencer spoke you could tell there was hidden meaning beneath it all directed towards JJ.

On the jet you dug in deeper into the case. You started to notice Spencer stuck close to you, as if you were an extra layer of shielding from JJ. He sat next to you and when JJ spoke he’d either look down at the files in his hands or at your files in your hand. “Dave you and I will talk to the parents.Y/LN head over with us to the police station, and get us set up. Go over what they have and talk to the detectives. Morgan and Prentiss go to the disposal sites. JJ, you and Reid to the abduction sites,” Hotch ordered. JJ gave a soft smile to Spencer and you felt him tighten up next to you, and look away from her. Her smile faded into concern and annoyance and looked at you for help. You just shrugged unsure how to help.

Once you collected all the information on the crime board at the station you helped out Hotch and Rossi at the coroner's office. Then you got the call that there was a third victim. There he burned the woman’s tongue with sulfuric acid. As you, Rossi, JJ, and Reid looked over the body. The quips JJ and Reid were throwing at each other was escalating quickly.

“— instead of dealing with it. He’s acting out,” JJ looked up at Reid as she spoke about the unsub but also meant it for Reid. If looks could inflict pain, the look Reid responded to JJ with would have seriously injured her. Spencer walked off in anger. JJ looked around for help, or maybe back up. You looked at her giving her ‘I’ll take care of it’ look and went after Spencer.

Once you caught up to him and tried to talk to him he wasn’t having it. He quickly dived into perfecting the profile and ignored all conversation about anything else. He was reinforcing the walls he built around himself.

Now back at the station, you all delivered the profile to the police force. Spencer was still not looking at JJ.

Once the profile was delivered Spencer went into the room where the BAU was working out of, JJ following him.

“Spence. Look we gotta talk about this,” JJ insisted.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he responded.

“I get it, okay? You’re disappointed with the way we handled Emily,”

“Listen I have a lot going on alright,”

“You know what I think it is, you’re mad that Hotch and I were able to hold our micro-expressions at the hospital. And you weren’t able to detect our deception,” JJ finally getting angry and defending herself.

“You think it’s about my profiling skills? Jennifer, listen the only reason you were able to manage my perceptions is because I trusted you. I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend,” the tears beginning to well in both of their eyes, “and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“I couldn’t,”

“You couldn’t or you wouldn’t,”

“I couldn’t,” she shouted and defended herself.

“What if I started taking dilaudid again. Would you have let me?” he asked.

“You didn’t,” she answered, confused why he was asking.

“Yeah, but I thought about it,” he confessed, and hurt even more that she didn’t realize how low he actually was during that time.

“Spence,” she called out as he tried to walk away, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late, all right?” He walked away from her.

“Reid,” Emily called for him and looked back at JJ.

You followed Spencer out the door. You knew it was risky to seek him out right now but you couldn’t help yourself. You had to try and help him. You couldn’t explain the pull he had on you right now but you usually followed your instincts and they hadn’t let you down yet.

“Spencer, wait up,” you tried to catch up to his long strides.

“Are you here to tell me off, or ask me to apologize to JJ? Because if so, don’t waste your breath. I’m not going to,” he angrily twirled around to you, which made you stop yourself before running into him.

“I wasn’t — I wasn’t going to say that. I know why you’re mad. And I think the way your acting is justified, maybe a bit immature but it’s justified,” you answered.

Spencer looked confused at your response then angrily he said “why am I acting this way then? Why am I so justified?” He was testing you in some way. If you said the wrong thing he’d yell at you too, and he would build that wall around himself so high no one would ever be allowed in again. He was hurting and right now he felt like hurting others was the only way to feel like he was in control.

“You feel betrayed. You understand why Emily had to fake her death. You understand why no one on the team was allowed to know but you don’t understand why JJ was in on it and how she kept her cool. You don’t understand how she could watch your heart break over the loss of a loved one and stand there with the knowledge to save you from all your grieving. JJ is your best friend, you trust her and love her. And best friends are supposed to help take away the pain, and you feel betrayed and taken advantage of because of that,” you finished. You could tell by the look he gave you that the wall he was building was not prepared for you to hit it so hard it cracked. His face went from openness and feeling seen, to defensive and angry at you not giving him a reason to yell at you. “You want her to understand and feel the pain she caused you. which might be why you are acting out? But when the time comes you’ll forgive her because you know deep down what you need JJ and her friendship and eventually you’ll remember all she did for you. Right now you’re hurting, but the way you get rid of that pain isn’t about being mean or hurting her, you’ll need to remember your love for your friend. And find it in yourself if you can forgive her. Am I right?” You asked him, but you already knew the answer. He let out a sigh and looked down at you. He looked at you for the first time in all his time of knowing you. You understood what he was going through more so than his closest friend, and even more so than some of his teammates who had known him for years. How could he have overlooked you for so long. He quickly looked down at your lips and the tension between you two changed. The breathing between you two became heavy and noticeable. He turned quickly and stormed off.

Eventually you all caught the unsub and saved the young girl. This time on the plane though Spencer sat in the back. He spread his stuff across the table indicating he didn’t want anyone to sit there. You took the hint, and even though you had never been close to Spencer other than him using you today for an emotional defense, you felt a coldness being away from him. A coldness, you didn’t even want to know where it would lead you.

Emily walked back to him after a short time on the plane. You could tell what she was doing and thought it was a good idea. You looked at them and analysed their behaviors. You saw the shift in them as Emily laughed for a second and from the back of Spencer you saw him move in his seat to avoid the subject. Emily leaned in as she began to explain her side of what had happened. Spencer was still mad, but by the way his shoulders sloped he was more tired than angry.

You got dressed up in one of your favorite black dresses with knee high black boots and a fancy long coat. As you pulled into the parking lot, you were a bit self conscious about what you were about to do.

You walked up the steps, found the door you were looking for, and knocked lightly. You heard some shuffling around and then heard the door unlock.

“Hey,” you spoke softly as you took in Spencer standing before you. He quickly looked you up and down and smiled, “what are you doing here? I thought you were helping Rossi teach the others how to cook?” He asked.

“Well I was, but I thought my friend might need me more tonight,” you softly smiled at him. “I was wondering if you wanted to go get something to eat,” you shyly asked, “or if you have plans, we can do something another time,” You looked at his attire and enjoyed the blue sport coat he was wearing, along with the colorful shirt under it. His hair was brushed with a light amount of product in it. It was like he was ready to go out.

“No, I was actually going to go to Rossi’s,” he admitted and you knew what that meant for him. It was more than going to Rossi’s, it was actually forgiving JJ and Emily.

“Well, I can take us, if you want,” you offered as you jingled your keys in front of him.

He gave a soft laugh, and nodded his head as he grabbed his stuff from his apartment.

“I just need to stop somewhere real quick to pick something up,” you added.

When you showed up to Rossi’s you were obviously late. But the smile on everyone’s face as Spencer walked in the room was worth it. You walked behind them with your arms wrapped around Derek and let everyone take in Spencer. You quickly handed Rossi, the cannoli’s you made and brought for desert.

After everyone said hello and got to cheers their wine glasses, it was time to cook. Instead of you cooking, Rossi decided you needed to help supervise. As you reminded everyone what the texture of the pasta had to be, and how the pancetta should look like cooked, you felt yourself always catching Spencer’s eyes and smiling.

“What’s that about?” Emily asked from behind you.

You turned startled by her, “what do you mean?”

“You and Reid, you guys came together and now you won’t keep your eyes off of each other. So what’s going on?” She asked.

You shook your head, “nothing is going on. I just gave Spencer a ride,” you responded.

“Uh-huh,” Emily skeptically looked at you. You rolled your eyes at her. Once you knew Emily wasn’t looking you slipped a glance at Spencer again and saw him smiling and laughing at something Garcia said. You couldn’t help but smile at them.

“I should say thank you,” you heard JJ say behind you.

You turned and looked at him, “why?” You asked a bit confused.

“You brought Spencer here, and he’s talking to me again. I can’t help but think you had something to do with that,” she answered.

“I didn’t do anything. He came to that conclusion on his own,” you responded.

“Well, either way, thank you for being there for him. I know he has a hard time opening up and trusting people,” she whispered. You nodded your head unsure how to respond. Out of everyone on the team you knew JJ and Emily the least as they weren’t on the team when you joined and had just returned.

As the finishing touches were put on everyone’s pasta you took a seat at Rossi’s big dinner table. You were used to sitting next to Garcia and Rossi. You expected the same people to sit near you but Spencer was quick to steal the seat where Garcia usually sat. You looked up at the young doctor standing over you as he placed a bowl of pasta in front of you. His smile told you everything. The weight of his anger had lifted and he felt rejuvenated. You gave him an odd look as he placed his glass of wine in the spot next to you. He just gave you a goofy face back. You ignored it, but you couldn’t help the feeling bubbling in your chest as you over thought him picking the seat next to you instead of next to the others like JJ, Emily or Derek.

You felt bloated after your meal but it didn’t really matter to you because you felt loved. With your Italian heritage, eating and sharing moments like this is where you felt most loved. This was no exception. You loved this BAU family that you were a part of. As the night went on and moved from the dining table to outside in Rossi’s backyard. You crawled into a loveseat couch and Spencer followed and sat next to you. You pulled a blanket off the back of the seat and draped it across you both. Spencer smiled in gratefulness.

“Say Grazie to the wonderful Y/N, for making and bringing the cannoli,” he announced and brought out the delish Italian treat.

“Oh my gosh I love cannoli,” squealed Garcia. Each person grabbed one and a silence fell over the group as they ate their cannoli. You couldn’t help but snuggle into Spencer a bit as the night moved forward and the talking kept going.

Slowly people left. Hotch was one of the first to go as he had to get back to Jack, then Derek and Garcia, next was JJ and Emily, and you and Reid.

The drive back to Spencer’s was filled with music theory facts, as the two of you got on the subject because you played your favorite songs playlist. One by one you each played songs that mean something to you. You enjoyed hearing the songs that made Spencer Reid, Spencer. They were all over the spectrum of music from classical to pop to indie to folk. You two sat in the parking lot for about an hour before you felt yourself yawning often.

“I should go so you can get home,” Spencer noted sadly.

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right,” you agreed.

“Unfortunately?” His right eyebrow was raised flirtatiously.

You blushed, “yeah, I had a fun night with you.” You looked down in embarrassment.

Spencer moved to place his hand on yours. He hesitated for a second then covered your hand. “I had a fun night too,” he admitted. You looked up at him and smiled.

“Good, because I still owe you a dinner,” you added playfully.

Spencer pulled his lips in and bit them, then let them slide out into a soft smile. “I look forward to it,” he responded.

He waited at the apartment complex entrance for you to pull away.

The memory of tonight would be one you cherished for a long time.

[makaylajadewrites]

can you do a moreid hc where the team goes to work on a case, but derek gets really jealous bc the detective who called them is reid's ex boyfriend (or they had something in the past idk) and keeps flirting with him??

oh yes!! I've read a fic that was somewhat like that so if some of my headcanons seem familiar, that’s why - if anyone knows what that fic is called or who the author is, please let me know so I can add it here! Also this is long so there’s a cut.

So the gang ends up going to Reno where there’s been a string of murders

Reid doesn’t realize it at first, but the detective in charge, Detective Michael Bryant, is the same Michael Bryant he went to college with - he just didn’t connect the dots, since it’s such a common name.

But when Michael sees Spencer again after nearly ten years, he’s like... elated. He’s so excited to see Spencer again that he actually hugs him in front of everyone. Spencer awkwardly pushes away from him, simply saying something like “Hi, Michael... It’s nice to see you again.”

Morgan is fuming. He’s glaring daggers at Michael and when they’re eventually alone, he pulls Reid to the side like “Who the hell is that?”

Spencer looks a bit guilty and frowns, murmuring in embarrassment, “Michael Bryant. We... went to college together, he was a freshman when I was working on my second doctorate. He, um... We dated, on and off, for a couple years.”

Derek’s like... really jealous and just crosses his arms over his chest like “You never told me about him.”

“Because he’s irrelevant,” Spencer says simply in response.

Throughout the case, Michael makes it quite obvious that he’s interested in Spencer. He’s openly flirting with him and touching him, despite Spencer’s obvious disinterest and constant pleas of “Michael, stop.”

Eventually though, when Michael and Spencer are alone, Michael’s like “Why are you avoiding me, Spence? We used to be so good together... The only reason we split up is because you moved to DC to join the bureau.”

Spencer’s frustrated at this point and he’s like “Michael, that was a decade ago... I’ve moved on.”

Michael grabs Spencer’s arm and he’s like “Don’t try and play hard to get, Spencer. You’ve always been a tease.”

Spencer says “I’m dating someone, okay? I’m not interested.”

And it’s at that point that Derek comes back and he sees Michael gripping Spencer’s arm, who is clearly uncomfortable and trying to pull away, and he just rushes all in and shoves Michael back like “What’s your problem, man? Get your damned hands off of him!”

And Michael’s like “What’s my problem?? This has nothing to do with you!”

And Derek’s all protective of Spencer and pushes him behind him and says “If it has to do with my partner, then it has everything to do with me.”

And Michael’s putting the pieces together and just holds his hands up in surrender like “Sorry, man, I thought he was single!”

Derek says “Even if he was single, he clearly wouldn't be interested. I suggest you focus on the five dead women in your city and not harassing Dr. Reid.”

The rest of the case goes by smoothly and Michael acts nothing but professional towards Derek and Doctor Reid. Before the team goes home, Spencer and Michael shake hands and depart on good terms, however Derek is still clearly frustrated and jealous.

On the jet ride home after everyone else has gone to sleep, Spencer cuddles into Derek’s side and murmurs to him softly, “You don’t have to worry about other guys, you know. I’m not going anywhere.”

Derek feels a bit better about that, and he just presses a kiss to the side of Reid’s head like “I can’t help it. I just get so possessive of you, because you’re mine.”

Spencer’s all 🥺🥰 and he just mumbles a little “Damn right” under his breath.

[itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto]

Jealousy... Part 1

A/N: Jealous Spencer was inspired by an idea @andiebeaword​ gave me, so I hope you enjoy lovely! Triggers: Swearing and making reader uncomfortable.

Jealousy - A sentiment which is born in love and which is produced by the fear that the loved person prefers someone else.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch said just after you and the team went through the newest case. “Bye Penelope.” You say, always giving her a hug before you go. You were best friends growing up, you were adopted, and Penelope’s parents took you in and you still are best friends to this day, despite Penelope being 35 and you, 25. “Make sure no one touches my avocado mug whilst I’m gone.” You whisper to her. “I’ll stab their eyes out with my cactus mug if they do.” Penelope whispered back, then squished your cheeks, “Now go save the world. Spencer a word?” She asks the young doctor. You chuckle and go to your desk to grab your go bag. “You’re in troubleeee…” You wink at your other best friend, and partner on cases, Spencer. As soon as you have gone down the stairs Penelope looks at Spencer, “Look after her? Please? Her ex, Darren cheated on her when she went back to his last night, and she ended up staying at mine. I don’t mind of course, but just know she’s a bit fragile right now and not in the mood for being BS’d around.” She said “I always hated Darren. If you mean bullshitted, I know.” Spencer said, knowing Penelope hated swearing, trying to hide his joy that Y/N is now single and could be his.  “Y/N is the toughest cookie I know.” He chuckled. “When she started here 5 years ago, we were on that John Doe case, and she took down the unsub by herself whilst still recovering from surgery on her hip… and she was only 20!” A week before you started at the FBI, you were working at the NYPD when a suspect you were chasing punched you so bad, you broke your back and a bone in your hip. “She didn’t mention her hip surgery to anyone besides me. How did you…” Penelope began, “Profilers.” She rolls her eyes, then shoos Spencer out of the conference room. “And I know you totally fancy her, so make your move boy wonder.” She giggled and went back to her lair. Spencer flushed his cheeks and went to get his go bag, was his crush on Y/N that obvious?! “What’s this?” Spencer asked, gesturing to the tiny pumpkin tea light on his desk. “I got it you a while ago, seems appropriate since it’s Halloween soon and your desk could do with a bit of colour.” You smile, as you tie up the lace on your trainers. Spencer smiles, putting the small tea light on his computer, his background being a photo of you and him last Halloween dressed up as Peanut butter and jelly, he smiles at the photo and turns the computer off, as you come around to Spencer’s desk as your desk is opposite his. “Isn’t it cute?” You giggle, your giggles make Spencer melt. “It is. Thank you for getting it for me.” He smiles, wishing he had the nerve to say, “You are cuter”

--

You arrive into New York, the case has partly hit home as you trained here as a NYPD Detective from the age of 18 to 20, before transferring to the FBI as you wanted a change and had a bit of your past you’d much rather leave behind you. “Hotch, before we go in, if there’s an officer called Myers.. We had history. We used to date but I dumped him when I got the job at the FBI, and he still hasn’t got over the fact we aren’t dating anymore. He still calls me occasionally, well.. Once every two days and asks when we are going on a date even though it’s been 5 years.” You say to your boss. “Y/N, if he was troubling you, why didn’t you tell us?” Hotch asks softly, safe to say, even if you and Hotch disagree, you have always been his favourite. “I’ll kick his ass if he does.” Morgan says flexing his muscles. “I will challenge him to a game of poker he won’t win.” Spencer says “I’ll swear at him in Italian.” Rossi says, “And get Penelope to work her Technology skills on him.” “Guys, don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” You laugh, “I appreciate the support though.” “And I appreciate you telling us Y/N.” Hotch said. “You, Morgan and Reid go to the last crime scene. Meet us back here in an hour. Prentiss, JJ and Rossi, with me.” He said giving you the car keys

-- “This takes me back.” You say, making a left turn not really needing to follow Spencer’s directions but still listen to him anyway. “Do you ever miss New York?” Morgan asks. “Apart from the twat officer, yes. I miss the people, the sights and the pizza... But that’s it really. I call Quantico my home now, with you guys.” You smile. Spencer smiles at you, wishing he could grab your hand but chose not to, knowing Morgan would say something. “Next right Y/N and then straight, and we’re there.” He says. “Thanks Doc.” You smile and you all arrive at the crime scene.

At the crime scene

“This is interesting… The unsub seems to change shoes every crime scene, but they all seem to have initials. Morgan, do you think Garcia could run them with the suspect list the NYPD have so far?” You ask noticing a footprint in the garden. “Worth a shot. Hey baby girl...” Morgan says taking a photo and phoning Penelope “It’s interesting what you find interesting.” Spencer smiles. “Size 10 I’d say.” He says. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” You say. An hour later, you re-group with the team, and share your findings and deliver a profile.

“Do you want a coffee?” Spencer asked you, noticing you yawn next to the surveillance board. “Yes please. Do you want half of my muffin?” You ask as Spencer hands you a mug. “Sure.” Spencer smiles about to take the half off you when someone beats him to it. “Thanks cupcake.” The voice bellows. It’s Myers. Shit. You turn. “That was for Spencer actually.” You say taking the muffin back off him and give it to Spencer who smiles and goes to another board to talk to JJ but keeps his eye on you. “I can’t believe you’re here.” Myers smiles, eyeing you up from your shirt to your trainers, and back again. “Why didn’t you say you were coming?” “Duty called.” You say, keeping your replies as short and to the point as possible and making a point to show your FBI badge. “Wait, you’re in the FBI now?! Jesus Y/N get you!” Myers says proudly, even though he knew that’s why you left the NYPD.

Meanwhile… “Is that him?” Morgan asks Spencer and JJ who nod. “Yeah, I’m keeping an eye on her.” Spencer says noticing you are getting a little uncomfortable around Myers as he takes a bite of the muffin. “Pretty boy, just ask her out.” Morgan said sipping his coffee “How did you…” Spencer flushed his cheeks “We all know. It’s our job.” Hotch said “I see why Y/N left, NYPD coffee is terrible.” Rossi said in disgust. “Morgan is right. We all know you give Y/N lover boy eyes. It oozes from you.”

Back at the board “Is this the best angle and frame you can get of Saturday night?” You ask “Yeah. Afraid so.” Myers says “Have you tried software 4.5 Micros?” You ask “No. Show me?” He offers. You show him the software and put it on his computer, two years ago, you and Penelope came up with the programme along with the coding for it. Even though you’re an agent, you can still come up with programmes and have an impressive case solving record. “Always had a pretty brain.. So sexy… So smart.” Myers says leaning in for kiss which you quickly back away from. “Myers what the fuck?!” You shout and jump out of your seat as Spencer walks in, fuming.

Big mistake pal, big mistake.

“Everything okay babe?” Spencer asks, putting his arm around your waist, which makes you melt but you keep it together. “I got you your favourite pizza in the conference room.” He says kissing your cheek.

Whatever this side of Spencer is, and however long it lasts, it can stay rent free in your mind.

“Thanks Spence.” You smile at Spencer, going with whatever he is doing. “You’re the best.” “Anything for my girlfriend.” He says kissing your lips this time as a smashed mug comes from where the team were. “Girlfriend?!” They all whisper to each other “Girlfriend?!” Myers exclaims “Y/N.. I thought.. We are.. You know..” He says giving you eyes “We were back 5 fucking years ago. Move on Myers.” You roll your eyes. “Now if you can excuse me, I have a pizza date with my boyfriend.” You smile.

In the conference room

“Spence? What was that?” You ask him softly “I’m sorry Y/N. I don’t know what came over me. But after what you said about Myers.. I didn’t want him to get any ideas.” Spencer said, looking at his shoes. “It’s okay Spence.. I quite liked seeing that side of you.” You blushed. “You did?” Spencer asked as you nodded. “What if I showed that side again.. But took you on a date? I could actually do with some pizza now.” He smiled “I’d like that. I know a spot.” You smile “But first…” Spencer said and put his hands on your little cheeks, and leant down and kissed your lips, as you kissed back. “Yes, pretty boy!” Morgan cheers “I’m telling Penelope.” Emily smirked getting her phone out taking a photo. JJ just smiled, pleased for the two of you.

After a week, the case got solved and you left New York leaving your old life behind you. Myers left the NYPD after it was found out he was a mole on the case, leaking information. You leave New York ready to continue your new life in Quantico with your boyfriend and your future at the FBI knowing when you got back you had a lot of questions to answer judging by the amount of missed calls from Penelope. 

Part 2 coming soon!  

Taglist: @pumpkin-goob , @jpegjade , @andiebeaword , @hopebaker , @hotchsbabygirl , @hercleverboy , @cupcake525 , @gubetube , @aperrywilliams  Requests are open!  Message me/comment below if you’d like to be on my taglist! 

[spencerreidscoffeecup]

Chapter 14 | Safe With Me

CW: penetrative sex, emotional sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (female recieving), fluffy stuff, crying, just lots of emotions :D

Y/n's POV:

"Spencer?"

"Mhm?" he hummed.

I took a deep breath.

"I-I love you."

Spencer pulled away from me slightly, examining my face and my eyes as if he was trying to detect a lie.

But there was no trace of a lie.

Because I simply wasn't lying.

My heart hammered in my chest, and I felt as I was going to vomit at his silence. Everything was quiet.

I felt as though the world was going to crumble underneath my feet before he replied back to me with those sweet, sweet words.

"I love you too, Y/n."

I felt my world rebuilding again beneath me, my anxiety being thrown out of the window as he placed his lips on mine in a sweet, loving, passionate kiss.

This kiss was different from the others.

This kiss had even more meaning behind it.

An unattainable amount of love and pure, raw, emotion poured into this kiss; our lips speaking a different language, although the language that both Spencer and I understood so well but so little about.  We weren't fluent in it, but we would soon teach each other to be fluent.  That beautiful language:

Love.

I took off my cardigan, afraid that if I showed him the scars of my past, he would run away, scared; leaving me alone for the future.

But he didn't.

Instead, we pulled away from each other, and Spencer picked up my arms so gently, it was as though I was made of porcelain, and the slightest bit of force would make me shatter.

But I wasn't.

I was strong.

I had been through so much.

He turned my wrists over, the indents of trauma from my past etched onto my body revealing themselves to him at last.

He brushed his fingers over them so soft and lovingly, I felt as though I might cry [even more than I already was]. All my fears were- once again- dissolved instantly, as he brought my wrists up to his lips, peppering gentle kisses on each scar, looking up at me with pure love and desire.

His lips kissed each traumatic memory to sleep, his love overpowering the bad that had been clouding over my life for so so long.

Tears streamed down my face, not because I was uncomfortable-no- because I had never felt loved like this before. No, I had never really felt love before. At least not when it was a mutual feeling.

After he finished his light kisses on my scars, he laid me back gently, turning off the fairy lights but leaving the burning unscented candles to burn away. He kissed my lips sweetly, then pulled away a little bit, taking in my face.

"This is the safest I've felt in my entire life, Spencer." I cried softly, and he brushed hair out of my eyes to tuck behind my ears.

He kissed my lips quickly, but it was soft and caring.

"You're safe with me." he whispered, smiling gently.

"I love you." I said this time without a stutter.

"I love you, my angel." he replied, a smile forming on both of our faces, a slight blush creeping up the apples of our cheeks.

After a moment of our loving gazes I broke the calming silence.

"I want to be with you, Spencer."

"I want to be with you too." he said, slightly confused, but still kissed my forehead.

"No- well, yes- but no. I want to be with you." I explained, and he soon caught on, his eyes flashing with love and a certain type of hunger.

Lust.

"Are you sure?" he asked wearily, concern lacing his features.

"Spence, I've never been more sure." I said definitively.

Spencer examined my face once more before I interrupted his 'human lie detector' methods with my hand cupping his face, then laying my lips upon his as we did a lot that night.

This kiss was also different, showing love and lust, but also permission to be accessible to our needs.

"Spence, please." I whispered against his lips, and he nodded, smiling softly.

"If you want me to stop, please tell me.. I won't be upset."

I nodded.

"Words, angel." he said, lifting my chin up with his pointer finger and thumb.

"I promise I will tell you, Spence." I reassured.

He smiled again, kissing my lips gently, then more ravenously the next. He kissed down my neck, sucking softly and I whimpered.

He took off his sweater, his muscles tensing when he put his knee between my legs to part them.

"Is it okay if I take your clothes off?" he asked, caressing my cheek-bone with his thumb.

"Yes."

He smiled down at me once more, then peeled my shirt off of my body, unbuttoning my pants.

Thankfully, the both of us slipped our socks and shoes off hours before, so we did not need to worry about taking them off.

He unbuttoned his pants, his dick straining against his boxers.

He pulled my pants down my body slowly, scared that I was going to break if he did it any faster.

His actions were gentle, and the cool air hitting my body made me shiver.

He must have noticed as he took one of the huge grey blankets and draped it over us, the soft material making everything more comfortable.

"Are you sure you want to do this, love?" he asked again, kissing my neck.

"I'm sure."

And I was sure.

I was way more than sure. I knew I wanted and needed him there and then.

"Do you want me to use protection?" he asked.

"No, I'm on the pill and I'm clean.. You?"

"I'm clean."

"Good." I giggled softly, and his eyes lit up at the sound as he laughed softly.

"Is it okay if I take everything off, or do you want to keep your bra on?" he asked, lightly tugging the straps of my bra.

"Take everything off." I said, and he kissed my neck, his hair tickling my skin.

He pulled away, and smiled down at me softly, unhooking my bra with one hand. I lifted up so the bra could fall off my shoulders, and Spencer's eyes practically bulged out of his head.

"You're so beautiful." he whispered to me, kissing down my neck, to my collarbones, then to my chest; sucking on my pebbled nipples, flicking his tongue around my areolas.

I gasped at the sensation, grasping his chestnut, dirty-blonde hair with my hands. He lifted his head up off of my chest after showing care and affection towards each of my breasts, then kissed down my stomach to where my thong began. He looked up at me for approval, and I nodded. He slipped my panties down my legs, putting them aside, and spreading my legs entirely. I felt myself grow self-conscious as I was in such a vulnerable position.

"Hey, it's just me." he said, bringing his hand up to my face to caress it softly.

I nodded, smiling down; my anxieties melting away.

He leaned back down, kissing my clit softly, then licked a flat stripe up my core. I moaned and whimpered, bucking my hips upward before he put his arm down across my hips.

"You taste so good." he groaned, the vibrations and his voice making me close, and he had barely touched me. He began thrusting his tongue in and out of me, his thumb circling my clit and rubbing gently.

"Fuck," I whimpered, already feeling myself fall towards the deep end of pure bliss. He then (within some miracle) slipped two fingers into my pussy, thrusting them upwards to brush against the spot I so craved to be touched at. Obscenities and moans spilled from my mouth as I latched onto Spencer's hair.

Soon, I felt the tidal wave of euphoria begin to rush throughout my body.

"Spence, I-I'm gonna-"

I was cut short by another one of his fingers thrusting inside of me, his other hand coming up to massage my breast as I came, my breathing erratic and my body twitching from the blissful aftermath.

Spencer took his fingers out of me and sucked on them, cleaning off my arousal. I pulled him up with my hands grasping onto his face, and kissed him hungrily, my body craving for more of him.

"Please, Spence." I begged, and he obliged; a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he pushed his boxers down, his erection springing free from confinement. I bit my lip at the view, and he stroked himself a few times before touching the head of his dick against my heat, rubbing gently as I whined for more.

"Are you sure, Y/n?" he asked once again.

"Please Spencer!" I gasped.

Spencer brought his lips down to meet mine in a hungry kiss before he sheathed himself in me completely; the feeling was a bit uncomfortable but that small discomfort soon turned to pure pleasure as he fully pushed himself in me slowly, allowing me to adjust to his size.

"Fuck, Y/n." he gasped against my lips, his hand on my hip from bucking uncontrollably, the other holding him up on his forearm by my head. "You're so tight." he hissed, and I pulled him in for another kiss.

"I was waiting for you." I said against his lips, and he moaned at that.

"I love you so much, angel." he whispered.

"I love you so much too, Spence." I whispered back, tears brimming at each of our eyes. I pulled him down in a kiss, wiping away his tears.

"Please, Spence." I whined, and Spencer took that as his que to move. Slowly, he thrusted in and out of me, our mouths working together to silence our moans. He brought his hand from my hip to my arm, flipping my hand over to kiss my scars again as tears fell from each of our eyes.

We weren't crying for a bad reason; we were crying because we loved each other so much, that it hurt our already damaged and poorly bandaged up hearts.

But we would soon fix our depressive, lonely states.. a person can only be in solitude for so long before it isn't deemed as 'blissful' anymore.

In order to heal, you have to be broken.

We were two beautiful souls, combining into one to become beautifully broken.

He let go of my wrist briefly, so that he could wrap his hands in mine, holding them above my head as he thrusted faster inside of me.

Our cries were filled with love and desire; the sound mixing together with our constant I love you's that spilled from our lips.

"Spencer!" I cried out as he pounded into me harder, our breaths more erratic.

"You're safe." Spencer whispered through pants and kisses.

I'm safe.

A groan ripped from the back of his throat, the sound able to throw me over the edge alone.

"Spence, please! You feel s-so good!" I sobbed, our fingers woven with one another's above my head.

I felt a warm, butterfly feeling build in my lower stomach, just waiting to snap.

"I'm gonna, ugh!-" I cried out, the twine of the snapping rope of pleasure in my lower belly beginning to snap completely.

"Me too, angel. Come with me." Spencer panted, kissing my lips ravenously, I gasped as I felt him pull my legs onto his shoulders getting a deeper angel within me.

I felt the feeling of my euphoria snap, sending a tsunami of pleasure and love coursing through my veins.

Spencer's dick throbbed inside of me, my inner-walls clenching desperately to him, not wanting to let go quite yet.

"Fuck!" Spencer moaned as I came, my body squirming around his as he followed after me in pursuit.

He thrusted a few more times inside of me before we both came down from our highs, his thrusts erratic and slowed.

After a moment, his movements stopped as they began to overstimulate the both of us, and he pulled out tenderly, kissing me softly and smiling gently down at me, as I mirrored his look.

Our faces were overcome with dopey love-sick smiles as he kissed down my belly, all the way to my core, licking up his mess as I bucked my hips at the overstimulation, but he just shushed me quietly.

Once he was done, he laid next to me, our mouths in unable to break away from the smiles that was plastered upon our faces.

He kissed my knuckles and fingers, pulling me into him and adjusting the blanket that draped over us.

I laid down on his chest, our hands clasped together, a content-full sigh coming from the both of us.

"I love you so much." He whispered as I was about to drift asleep.

"I love you so much." I whispered back, giggling softly.

We soon fell asleep, wrapped in each other's bodies; the cool air of the night feeling amazing against our warm skin.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

5:30 am: On the rooftop of Y/n's apartment complex

I awoke with Spencer kissing my head, then my face, leaving butterfly kisses in his wake.

I giggled softly, bringing my hand out from under the blankets to caress his face.

"Good morning, beautiful." he said, kissing my lips softly as my eyelids fluttered open.

"Good morning, bubs." I said back, bringing him to me with both of my hands, kissing his lips softly.

"Happy three months of being ED free." he said softly, kissing my nose.

My heart fluttered.

"I forgot that was today." I said, a big grin overtaking my features; his face mirroring mine.

"Yep. And you know what we're gonna do today? We're gonna bake your new comfort food." he said, kissing my neck.

"Cookies?!" I gasp excitedly, and he laughs against my neck, the vibrations tickling my throat.

"Cookies."

"Can we watch the sunrise first, Spence?" I ask, and he pulls himself away from my neck to kiss my lips.

"Of course, my love."

I giggle, and we both begrudgingly put our clothes back on; although Spencer gives me his sweater to wear, and he goes shirtless; only having his tan slacks and socks on.

We cuddle up under the blanket, watching the sun bloom over the horizon, golden and white petals stretching outwards into the rich blue. The velvety pink clouds making the sky look like a magical sorbet that you'd get on a hot summer's day.

"I love you, Spence."

"I love you too, Y/n."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

12:30 pm: back at y/n's apartment

Spencer and I got back hours ago, having pancakes and eggs for breakfast.

We swayed and danced to music, kissing each other constantly, our lips red and sore from the constant loving exchanges but neither one of us cared.

We showered together, Spencer washing my hair as I washed Spencer's (or at least tried to (height difference)).

He kissed my shoulder as I washed the Conditioner out of my hair and proceeded to kiss my lips.

We played different songs, singing along to them. (I, giggling at Spencer's tone deafness)

Now,  I was in the kitchen and Spencer was on the remote control for my TV, trying to find a movie to watch after we baked our cookies.

"Hey, what about the first 'Harry Potter' movie?" He asked, scrolling through the titles of different movies as I got the ingredients out to bake.

"Sure!" I exclaimed, taking out the flour and sugar.

Spencer clicked the movie, pausing it at the beginning.

I jumped up to try and reach the top shelf of where the chocolate chips were located but I failed.

Instead, I felt Spencer come up behind me, placing his hand on the counter in front of me; my back against his front. Butterflies roared through my system at the simple act, memories from last night flooding my brain.

He got them down easily, and I turned to him, but he raised the chocolate chips higher away from my grasp as I jumped even higher to try and reach them, but I quickly failed.

"Hey!" I fake-pouted.

"Oh, fine.. But only 'cause you're so cute." he said, laughing softly, then kissing my lips and handing me the chocolate chips.

I smiled sweetly at him and kissed him back.

"Let's make some cookies!" I exclaimed, clapping my hands together excitedly as he laughed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer's POV:

The night before with Y/n was anything but a fail.

It was perfect--she was perfect.

It was filled with pure, raw, loving emotion.

We had already talked about the sex, our faces overcome with a deep red blush, but we both agreed that it was the most amazing thing.

I was so proud of her as she opened up about her life when she was a child.

I was just so proud.

I loved her so much.

Now, as she lies asleep in my arms after our long day of eating cookies, watching movies, kisses, cuddles, hugs, etc. But I can't help but think.

I have never loved anyone more.

I never thought I would say this, and I almost feel bad about it in a way, but.. I love her more than I've ever loved anyone before.. Even Maeve. And I feel bad that I say that because it feels mean and cruel, but it is the truth. Maeve will always be my first love, but Y/N.. Y/N will always be the one. The one I love forever; the one for me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Hey guysss

OMG OMG they had seggs :0

I hope you enjoyed!

If i don't have a relationship like theirs in the future... i dont want it :D

love you all

<33

(more to come!!)

[reidsmemory]

honey, honey

spencer reid 

fandom: criminal minds

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you & spencer & the team head to nyc for a case. spencer gets a little jealous about all the attention you’ve been receiving from the head detective.

not my gif!

***

     “wheels up in 30,” hotch said as we finished briefing for the case. i gathered my papers & left the conference room with everyone else but slowed to talk with spencer.

     he walked besides me & started talking, “this totally ruins our plans for tonight.” disappointment was evident on his face as well as his voice.

     “i know,” my heels clicked the floor as we kept walking, “maybe we can have a date night in new york though!” i said in a hopeful tone, looking at my boyfriend of the past 3 months. we kept our relationship a secret from the team, but let hotch know due to the strict rules the bau had set in stone for employee relationships.

     spencer looked over to me, “yeah i guess, but we might not even get anytime off for this case. hotch seemed serious about it, more serious than normal.”

     “we’ll figure it out babe,” he perked up at the pet name & a light blush dusted his cheeks. “i’ll see you on the plane.” i walked away from the tall man & went to grab my go bag. this was going to be a hectic case.

***

     we arrived in new york & quickly hopped in the suv’s parked outside the jet. spence, morgan, & i in one & jj, hotch, rossi, & emily in the other. morgan of course went in the drivers seat & reid in shot gun.

     i sat in the back & looked over the case a bit more; 3 women all had shoulder length, brown hair & green eyes. they had all been found in their homes with their lips cut off & ligature marks on their wrists as well as a single gunshot to the head. there had already been 3 killings in 2 weeks, so this guy wasn’t taking much time off.

     we pulled up to the nypd office & i hopped out of the car. “so what do you think y/l/n?” morgan asked me.

     i whipped my head around, “what, sorry.”

     “i said should i let spencer drive more?” spence & morgan looked at me, both wanting me to pick their side.

     “definitely not,” i said with a smile. “you remember back in boston a couple months ago?”

     “okay that was one time & i said i was sorry!” spencer defended.

     morgan tisked, “sorry doesn’t fix a broken windshield.” i laughed as reid huffed in annoyance.

     “it’s alright, spence, we all have our flaws & your’s seems to not be too bad. at least not as bad as had an addiction with a certain high school glee club show,” i stated as morgan hushed me.

     “keep your voice down, princess!” spencer & i laughed at his reaction; we caught him watching the show one night & he begged us not to tell anyone.

     we walked to the elevator & met up with the rest of the team that had already arrived. hotch greeted us promptly, “detective walker this is ssa derek morgan, ssa y/n y/l/n, & dr. spencer reid.”

     i smiled at the man & shook his hand like morgan where as reid opted for a wave. “thank you all for coming up. we’ve got you situated in the conference room back there,” he lead us back & started talking about the case. “i normally would try to figure this out by myself, but seeing the pattern i knew i had to call some help in & i’m not complaining if that help is as sweet looking as ms. y/l/n here.”

     a light blush spread on my cheeks & the detective looked pleased with himself.

     “well, i’ll leave you all to it,” he winked at me as he walked out & i quickly looked over at emily & jj with wide eyes. they both laughed a bit as i rolled my eyes at the very up front detective’s actions.

     “y/n’s got game,” derek joked as he nudged my shoulder.

     “shut up,” i said as he laughed. with that we got to work on the case.

***

     hotch had taken jj to talk to some of the families of the victims, while rossi and morgan had gone searching on a lead that garcia had given them. spencer and i were working on the geographical profile as emily had been looking at the crime scenes more thoroughly. 

     it was pretty late as we had been working for a couple hours and had arrived around 3 o’clock that day. i yawned as i put one of the pins down, “i’m going to see if they have some coffee, do guys want any?” i asked spencer and emily. 

     “i’m good, thanks,” em said, barely looking up from her work.

     i turned to spencer as he nodded, “the regular with-”

     “lots and lots of sugar and cream, i know your coffee order by now doctor,” i told the brunette man as he smiled brightly at me. “i’ll be right back.” i walked out of the conference room they had set us up in and went to look around for the coffee machine as a tap on my shoulder turned me around.

     “i couldn’t help but notice a beautiful lady in distress,” detective walker observed, “whatcha lookin’ fo’ miss. y/l/n?” his new york accent was heavy as he talked to me.

     “uh, a coffee machine or somewhere i could get some coffee,” i told him.

     “right this way,” he lead me through the department and pointed to the little set up they had, “if you need anything else let me know miss.”

     “thank you, detective,” i smiled lightly as i got work fixing up the coffee for spencer and i. i walked back and handed spencer his coffee as he mumbled a thank you as emily chuckled under her breath. i sat next to her i sipped the warm beverage, “what is it?”

     she smiled at me, “oh, nothing. detective sweet talk seems sweet and not too crazy as well as the obvious attraction on his side of things,” i furrowed my eyebrows as she sighed, “when was the last time you got laid, y/n?”

     i spit out my coffee as emily laughed loudly. spencer mumbled something, although i was too caught up on what emily had said to really notice what spencer had muttered. “excuse me?” i asked her with wide eyes as i reached for napkin and wiped my face. 

     “he seems nice and everything and he’s not too bad on the eyes either,” emily said with a smirk on her face.

     i rolled my eyes, “i’m good em. i’m very happy with my romantic decisions right now,” she nodded and i saw spencer smile lightly as he continued working on the map. 

     the rest of the team entered the room as we work for another couple hours before hotch called it a night. none of the leads had worked and the families weren’t as much help so we all decided to turn in and get fresh eyes and return to the case tomorrow morning. 

***

     we got to the hotel and everyone had settled in their room and i waited a good 15 minutes before tip toeing over to spencer’s room and as soon as i was about to knock he swung the door open as i smiled brightly. i walked in as he followed and laid down on his bed. he flickered on the tv and found a good movie before laying down next to me. 

     we watched it silently as i placed my head on his chest as he had an arm slung around me. “do you mean it?” he asked suddenly as i looked up at him.

     “mean what?” i asked as he sighed.

     “nevermind, it’s stupid and-”

     “nothing that’s bothering you this much is stupid,” i sat up and looked at him, “what is it, spencer? you can tell me,” i reached for his hands and interlaced them with mine.

     “it’s just,” he looked down as the sheets of the bed, “you seem so unbothered when men just fling themselves at you and i don’t know, i can’t seem to compete and it’s just that you said you’re happy with your romantic decisions and i just keep thinking ‘what if she’s not?’ and ‘what if she’s just saying that because she doesn’t want to hurt my feeling and there are so many other guys that would be great with you that i don’t even compare too!’”

     spencer finished his rant as he finally looked up at me. “okay firstly, i’m unbothered because i know that i have the perfect man already by my side so i don’t need anyone else. secondly, like i said before i am very, very, very happy, ecstatic even, about my romantic decisions, because of the very amazing doctor that i love very much. thirdly, of course i don’t want to hurt your feelings, but i would be strait up lying if i said i didn’t want to be with you and i think you would be able to pick that up very quickly, doctor. lastly, you can’t compete to them,” he looked at me with puppy eyes, “you can’t compete in something that you’ve already won. you, spencer reid, are the most amazing, gorgeous, caring, sweet, loving, beautiful, handsome, funny, adorable, and every other great adjectives that i can’t remember right now,” i smiled at him, “i love you so so much and i know it’s early in the relationship to say that, but i mean it spence. i’m sorry if i ever don’t let it bother me as much as it should, i’ll make sure to keep that in mind, alright?”

     he smiled and nodded his head, “i love you.”

     i leaned in and kissed his lips softly as he hummed in content and smiled into the kiss. he pulled me closer to him as we kept pressing our lips together as his hands found my waist and mine found his hair. i pulled away smiled at him lightly, “let’s get some rest, yeah? we can look at all the cool places new york has to offer for an amazing date night while solving this case.”

     “that sounds great,” spencer said softly as his kissed me again and pulled away as we slipped under the covers. i snuggled up to his side and had an arm and leg around him as well as my head resting on his chest. he wrapped his arms around me and rubbed circles on my back and soon enough we were fast asleep.

***

     morgan, hotch, spencer, and i sat in the conference room as we started looking at the theories again as something suddenly clicked. “what if our unsub is a female,” i said aloud as the men looked at me.

     “go on,” hotch told me as i nodded.

     “the lips are all taken off of the victims which we see as a more sexual and intimate act, but no sexual assault happened to the victims, right?” they all nodded, “it’s clean and organized, most female unsubs are that way and what if all of the victims are surrogates for the one she really wants. the one she’s jealous of. she takes their lips maybe it here way of saying that they can’t have what she wants a boyfriend or husband. she’s jealous and wants to stop them from having a chance with her object of affection.”

     “it would make sense,” hotch started, “no forced entry. her ruse would get her into the house as well as having the victims more trusting and possibly sympathetic. good work, y/l/n.” hotch left the room and began to call the rest of the team, telling them my theory. 

     “nice job, princess. where’d you get that idea?” morgan questioned.

     “i don’t know,” i lied, “just kinda came to me.” he nodded and looked at me skeptically as i turned and started to rework the profile with spencer. 

     hotch walked in as talked, “let’s give the profile.”

***

     the team, plus garcia over the phone. and i sat in the conference room as detective walker came in with coffees. “here you all go, if figured you guys might need a pick me up,” we all smiled and took the coffee’s gratefully. he came next to me and placed some sugar packet down by me, “here’s some extra sugar, sugar,” he winked at me as jj and emily stifled their laughs, morgan smirked, hotch and rossi rolled their eyes, and spencer frowned.

     “i appreciate it, detective. i should tell you that i have a boyfriend and although you are a sweet man, i’m very happy,” i told him as everyone looked at me with different expressions. 

     “well, he is one luck guy, miss,” with that he left us to get back to work. i started sifting through the files again as the rest of the team stayed silent. 

     “you what!?” garcia yelled over the phone as i jumped at the loud noise, “you have a boyfriend and didn’t even tell us! you didn’t tell me!” i bit my lip as to stop the wide smile from breaking out onto my face.

     “sorry, penny,” i said sheepishly as i looked at my coworker who all had different amounts of surprise on their face, well except spencer and hotch. 

     “sorry is not gonna cut it, princess!” penelope yelled, “i need his name, address, country of birth, all of it! i have to make sure this guy isn’t some weird stalker!”

     “i don’t think you have to worry about that-” i started.

     “she’s right, if this guy is apart of your life we need to know him too,” derek spoke as penny agreed over the phone. i glanced over to spencer who was smiling widely as i silently tried to asses if he was fine with me telling them. 

     “wait a minute,” emily said, “why are we all shocked execpt him,” emily pointed over to spencer who tried to hide his smile.

      “about time, you all figured it out,” hotch muttered as the room broke out with ‘what’s?’ and yelling. 

     “who!?” penny said over the phone.

     “how long?” jj asked.

     “nice going, kid!” derek slapped reid’s back while smiling.

     “took you two long enough!” rossi smiled at spence and i.

     “wait, have you two been sneaking out of your hotel rooms? i thought i was imagining that,” emily questioned.

     “i am going ask one more time or i might explode! who is the mystery man!?” pennt yelled over the phone.

     “spencer and i are dating, penny. and to answer jj’s and emily’s questions, 3 months and yes, sorry i thought we were quieter,” i said to the group of profilers.

     “penelope?” spencer asked after a few moments of silence from the woman.

     she squealed loudly as we all covered our ears and grimaced at the sound. “my ship! oh thank god! i have been waiting for this moment since i met you two! i’ve had to wait years for this oh my god! i think i might pass out!”

     we all laughed and soon stopped as a chiming sound was heard over the phone.

     “hey! i got the address and i’m sending it to your phones now! go crime fight my amazing love birds and friends!” and with that we all went over to catch our serial killer.

 ***

    i knocked on spencer’s door as he opened it, “how does dinner at the museum of astronomy and galactic beings sound? along with passes to see everything they have to offer?” spencer smiled brightly at my statement.

     “sounds amazing, let me get ready and we can head out,” he kissed my forehead and soon enough he was ready and we went to have an amazing date night in new york.

AUTHORS NOTE: thank you all for reading! i hope you enjoyed and i am currently taking requests

4.25.20