#suddenly i’m worthy of spencer reid’s love

[talaok]

I’ve dreamed of this (pt.VIII)

Summary: You are a part of the BAU, and for the longest time you and Dr. Spencer Reid had been best of friends, even when it was clear to everyone else, and at times to you, that you should be more than that, and when something almost happens on a night out with the team, everything is destined to change.

This is a double pov story (each chapter will be alternated between y/n's and spencer's pov)

Chapter summary:  Spencer wakes up with you by his side.

warnings: fluff fluff fluff because life's shit so let's make our fake one good for a little while longer before I'll have to inevitably ruin everything(also a slight allusion to smut)

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Spencer

The sun was shining on his face, half of his body was out of the covers, and he couldn't feel his arm anymore, but still, he had never felt happier.

There was a warmth in his chest he couldn't describe, a sensation so deep, so profound he hoped would stay there forever, accompanying him throughout everything, because, with it, he could do anything.

He was happy.

He was truly uncontrollably happy, and he knew it.

Life was good, 

life was worth living,

It had been for a while now,

since he met her,

It had been because every time he saw her smile he was reborn, because every time she laughed at a joke he made he felt every inch of his body awaken,

But that worthiness, that joy, was always temporary, like a wave washing over him and leaving behind a sheer veil of bitterness, of disappointment.

but now,

now it was diffrent, because his fingers were in her hair, because her head was on his chest, and the precious sound of her breathing filled his ears.

It had happened. 

It had finally happened, everything he had dreamed and hoped for had happened, and it was even better than he could have ever imagined.

He didn't mean the sex,

yes, of course, the sex had been amazing and he was never gonna forget a single millisecond of that night, but what he meant was everything else,

he meant her.

He meant the feeling of her lips on his, he meant the ability to touch her, fully touch her because he could, because she wanted, he meant the certainty, at last, at last, that everything he had been so scared to feel for the past four years, everything he had pushed and bottled up so deep inside of him was actually legitimate.

He meant the knowledge of not being crazy,

and that if he was, then so was she.

Because everything they felt, did, or said, they had together,

not just him,

they weren't just the acts of a delusional man,

no,

They had both made a decision, and if it was right or wrong didn't matter, because it was theirs, not everyone else's, just theirs.

He felt her stir, her eyes slowly opening.

"good morning"

She smiled, looking up, and spencer thanked every existing being for having gifted him with an eidetic memory so he could never forget the sight before him.

"good morning" her sweet voice was tired, barely awake.

"How did you sleep?" she asked, her hand grazing his chest, as she leaned up.

"really good" Spencer answered because it was the truth, because he had the best night of sleep of his life "how did you sleep?"

"Perfectly" she murmured against his mouth before pressing her lips to his.

He got to taste her for a few moments before she cruelly leaned away "your bed is really comfy"

"mh-mh" he agreed mindlessly, desperately reaching up to kiss her again.

She smiled at that, granting him another quick kiss.

"the covers are also really soft" she commented, making him chuckle softly.

"What?" she asked, laughing too now

"would you just please let me kiss you?"

"Mmm..." she pretended to think about it "I'm not sure" her fingers went to trace his jawline "what do I get from it?"

He smiled "I make some really great pancakes"

"oh you do?" she asked amusedly "now that's interesting"

She was leaning closer but suddenly stopped, making Spencer groan exasperatedly

"what flavor?"

"Whatever one you want"

"chocolate chip?"

"Absolutely"

"Oh I love chocolate chip pancakes" she grinned

"I know you do "  he remembered, not giving her time to say something else before crashing his mouth with hers, his hand reaching for the back of her head, bringing her impossibly close to him.

She whimpered softly in his mouth as he stoaked her side, and spencer wondered what he had done in his life to deserve this, to deserve her.

She straddled him like he had done yesterday, and he felt like if he had to die, this would have been the perfect moment to,

because nothing was ever gonna top this, 

life was never gonna get better than this.

"What time is it?" she asked, not giving him time to answer before kissing him again.

"early"

"How early?" She raised her eyebrow, the proposal fairly clear underneath the question

He smiled "early enough"

__ __  __

"Really?" y/n said, entering the kitchen.

Spencer frowned before turning, and as he took her in, her body drowning in his old, way too big t-shirt, he couldn't help but grin.

He was surprised his mind still hadn't blown from the realization this was really happening and that the stunning woman wearing his shirt in front of him, wasn't, in fact, a vision.

"What? it's funny" he defended the physics joke on the shirt she was referring to

"I'm not lazy, I'm overflowing with potential energy?" she read, skeptical.

"yeah it's funny, you know like potential energy is the energy held by an object because of its position relative to other objects, stresses within itself, its electric charge, or other-"

She kissed him

He frowned

"now" she smiled, proud of herself and of her new discovery "this is gonna be useful"

Spencer's confusion only grew, and it made her laugh softly as she sat on the counter 

"don't worry" she shook her head, kissing him again.

God, how he loved it,

he had thought that perhaps only the first kiss was gonna have that sparkle, that fire igniting inside of him, but for now, she had only continuously proved him wrong.

"so how are they coming?" she nodded to the pancakes frying in the pan.

"great"

There was a moment of silence as she looked around, his apartment suddenly feeling inappropriate under her gaze,

but her smile reassured him as always

"I could get used to this you know?"

His heart jumped in his throat

Please do

That's all I want y/n

That's all I ask

"I-" he blushed " I could too"

She bit down a grin and he wanted to free her lip from her teeth's grip with his thumb, and when he remembered he could, he did.

"I like you y/n" he spoke "I've liked you for a very long time" he continued, swallowing his fear as the words blurted themselves out"In a way, I had never had before" her eyes were burning into his "and I know this isn't ideal, that there are a lot of things we should consider and talk about," he said "and I'm willing to do that, but I just thought you should know"

His hand went to her thigh

"I like you" he smiled "and I'm serious about this"

She smiled too now

"I like you too Spence"

Those words still made his heart skip.

"but you should really shut up"

He creased his brows "why?"

"Because if you don't, you're gonna be late to work" she explained, grabbing his shirt to bring him close enough to kiss him passionately.

"there could have been traffic" he shrugged, and she laughed

"you know what? you're right, it's crazy out today"

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[jkoningen]

“You’re making this really hard…”

[Spencer Reid x GN!Reader]

Summary: you’ve been trying to avoid Reid all day and protect yourself from your feelings, but you can’t hold back anymore.

-- short and sweet, just like you ;))

“Can you just leave me alone for a moment?” You sighed heavily to Reid, who was bothering you unintentionally. He quirked his eyebrows at you, a frown appearing on his lips.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” He followed you out the main doors and down the hall, away from everyone.

He didn’t do anything wrong. He’s perfect. You’re in love with him; that's the problem. He’s beautiful, too intelligent for his well-being, and has the biggest heart. You just thought you could never meet his requirements for a love interest.

“Spencer, please.” You stopped and turned to face him, also spread on your lips. You and Reid stared at one another, falling into a trance in each other’s eyes. He stepped closer, now only a few inches apart from you.

“(Y/N), please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” He crossed his brows again, placing his hands on your shoulder, rubbing gently with his thumbs, something he did that would make you fall in love with him every time he did so. Your chest started to hurt, and holding back your feelings wasn’t something you were used to.

“You’re making this really hard….” you chuckled softly, turning your gaze away from his for a moment, then back to his gaze, and he was so confused. “Spencer, I’m in love with you.”

This time, Reid’s hands fell to his side, and his jaw dropped. You didn’t know what to expect, and you didn’t think this would be a reaction. Was it good? Was it bad? You couldn’t tell, so you continued. “I think you’re the most precious human being there is. You’ve been through so much, but you’re still here, strong as ever. You make me want to become a better, stronger person. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you, and I can’t stop thinking about-”

Suddenly you were cut short by a pair of lips, lips that were Reid’s. He placed his hands on your cheeks, and his eyes closed. You slowly shut your eyes and set your hands on the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and he did the same. Soon, you both pull away with smiles written on your lips.

“I’ve never been happier to hear such words from someone like you. I’ve been in love with you since you walked into the BAU. You caught my eye immediately, and I can't stop thinking about you.” You could believe what he was saying; your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your ears. You could feel your face becoming red hot. “(Y/N), will you be mine?”

“Yes!” You couldn’t be happier. You wrapped your arms around Reid’s shoulders and hugged him tightly, and he did the same as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You both held each other close with huge smiles, embracing and curing anything that may come your way.

I am worthy of a wonderful life with this amazing man.

[okay-j-hannah]

Always Been You

Criminal Minds : Drabble

Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1000

Warnings: Nada - something short n sweet

Request: “Telling Spencer Reid I'm crazy about him and don't want anyone else cause he's the love of my life 🥰 (He was jealous or insecure about himself) Cause this baby boy deserves to know he's amazing and very loved ❤” Anon

A/N: Waiting around for something to happen between you two has caused some misconstructions about your feelings

Something felt strange about the day. Perhaps it was the way her coffee tasted watered down. Perhaps it was the email saying her paperwork wasn’t filed correctly and required a weekend to redo.

Or perhaps it was the fact that Reid had been avoiding her all morning.

She sat at her desk, having the perfect view of him fiddling with whatever was on his computer. He was wearing his glasses, making him appear more boyish, and she tried to deduce the way he appeared to be trying too hard to look busy.

She leaned back in her chair, tossing a pen between her hands and biting her lips. What in the world could’ve happened to warrant a cold shoulder?

He didn’t say ‘good morning.’ He didn’t pass her paperwork he did for her out of the goodness of his heart. He didn’t awkwardly find some statistic to talk about simply because we wanted to talk to her.

It was all very peculiar. Although (Y/N) always knew Reid didn’t believe himself worthy of her affections.

Did something happen yesterday when…

Oh, but something did happen yesterday. She put a hand over her eyes.

Yesterday after they wrapped up a case. The team decided to grab a few drinks, instigated by Morgan and Garcia. She had to beg Reid to come with them. Drinks weren’t really his scene.

But he went because she asked him to.

(Y/N) sighed heavily and remembered. He went because she asked him to… and then she left him at the bar to dance with the crowd. Maybe got a bit close with a few of the guys there.

Reid sat at the bar alone and probably watched her enjoy herself amongst the others. He didn’t believe himself worthy of her affections when it was really the other way around.

She looked at him now, angry with herself. Didn’t he know how much she liked him? How ready she was for an actual relationship? She was done with the silly crushes and flirting – she wanted to date him.

Right, she thought. Perhaps now was the time to tell him. Tell him plainly.

A sudden eruption of nerves exploded in her stomach. What if he didn’t like her back? Nonsense, he didn’t pay attention to anyone else like he did to her.

She suddenly remembered the feeling of him next to her. The moments when he had a hand hover against her back, leading her outside, or guiding her protectively. The times they celebrated a case with tight hugs or shared smiling stories. The way he’d grab her hand in a moment of adrenaline. The innumerable times he walked her to her car.

(Y/N) was on her feet, moving towards him. Her steps were purposeful but her stomach queasy.

“Reid?”

He didn’t turn, “Hm?”

She swallowed hard, “Can you look at me when I’m apologizing?”

He appeared to be expecting her to figure out why he was upset. He wasn’t surprised when he twirled his chair around to face her.

“Apologize for what?”

“For abandoning you at the bar last night.”

He set his jaw, pursing his lips, “That’s all right – you were having fun.”

“No,” she said forcibly, “It’s not all right. I begged you to come and then left you for the rest of the night.”

“There were some guys asking for a dance – you couldn’t say no – I understand.” He nodded to himself, but his hands were held tight in his lap.

She was shaking her head in turn, “No, no you don’t understand. I didn’t want to dance with those guys. I didn’t beg them to be out with me that night.”

Reid was confused, “Then why spend it with them?”

Moment of truth. “It was a distraction. I was upset with myself. Upset that nothing had happened yet.”

He was looking around the office to see if anyone had caught their voices getting louder. “What are you talking about?”

“Me and you, Reid!” she breathed out.

He was genuinely stunned. “Me and… and you?”

(Y/N) gave a breathy laugh, running a hand through her hair, “Yeah. Don’t you know that, Spence? You really think I would dance with those guys at the bar because I liked them? It’s you, Spencer – it’s always been you. It will always be you… I like you.”

It came as no surprise that Reid’s heart literally stopped for three whole seconds. His tongue felt like lead as he tried to speak, “I… you, well… since – when did… have you… I can’t… w-well…”

(Y/N) smiled wide, “It’s always been you. Since the first day on the job. I’ve never really wanted anybody else.”

Reid tried to take a breath but found it sticky in his lungs. It was like time had slowed down, a laugh trying to force it’s way out, but only showing in the giddy smile that brightened his face.

“You mean that?”

She laughed, “If that’s all right with you.” Her arms went limp at her sides, heart welling at his smile.

He stood from his chair, standing over her now. “I’ve wanted that more than you know.”

She suddenly flung her arms around him, kissing him hard on the mouth. His hands flew to her arms in surprise, eyebrows soaring into his hairline. His glasses slid down and bumped her on the nose too.

“Sorry,” she breathed heavy, stepping away, “Probably shouldn’t do that at work.��

Reid was dazed, face blank, “Ah, ye – yeah.”

“For a profiler you were a bit slow on picking up my feelings, weren’t you?”

“We weren’t.”

The pair of them turned to spot the entirety of the team standing near the stairs – girls near clapping and the boys pumping fists.

“We’ve all made bets,” Rossi said.

“I am owed $500,” Morgan said smugly.

Reid quietly reached for (Y/N)’s hand, sweet about the way he squeezed it. “If I take you for drinks tonight, do you promise not to leave me again?”

She smacked his shoulder, but he shook with contained laughter.

~~~

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[reidscanehand]

It Would Take a Lifetime

Spencer Reid x BAUfem! Reader

Category: Fluff

TW:....cursing, alcohol is provided for adults, sexual attraction 

Hello! Just a quick note: this is set in season 5 or 6 before all the Ian Doyle and Maeve stuff. Also, I definitely tweaked the request this was based on a little bit. Anyway, I was going to take a couple of days off and I still plan on doing that, but I got this anonymous request: hi!! i’d like to request (idk if you’re taking any if not i’m sorry, don’t wanna bother) but today is my birthday and i love ur writing so much so could you maybe write something where the bau has a small celebration for readers bday and she and reid are just so in love... anyways tysm ily and it’s because it’s their birthday, it felt time sensitive! It’s 5pm my time, so I hope this is out on your birthday and that you have had a wonderful day! Enjoy xx 

~ “Birthdays are notches on an infinite timeline.” - Jessica Khoury ~

Spencer Reid doesn’t forget. The gift of his eidetic memory means that, even he tries, it’s really difficult to forget things. There are some things he longs to forget: his father leaving him and his mother, being tortured by Tobias Hankel, Gideon leaving, shooting Phillip Dowd, the many, many dead victims’ faces he’s seen since he started working with the BAU, the thousands of facts he knows about serial killers, paraphilia, and statistics surrounding death...the list goes on and on. But there are things that Spencer is beyond thrilled to be able to remember.

He’s thrilled that he’ll never forget the moment he met you. How nervous you looked on your first day, even though you had absolutely no need to be. How when you entered the bullpen, he realized that, in his email regarding you joining the team, Hotch had failed to mention how stunningly gorgeous you are. How he’d suddenly decided that not only did he not mind shaking your hand, but he rather desperately wanted to. How soft and warm your hand had been.  

He’s thrilled that he’ll never forget your smile. How, on your first case, Hotch had congratulated you on a job well done and the warmth of your smile had practically radiated from you. How you smile at everyone as you enter the bullpen, no matter how grueling the morning has been. How you always smile at Spencer like he’s worthy of something, more worthy than he’s ever been.  

He’s thrilled that he’ll never forget your laugh, even though, in this line of work he rarely gets to hear it. How no music he’s ever heard can compare to how uplifting your laughter is. How you’ll try to hide it for a moment, scrunching your nose as you allow your lips to land in a small smile. How that never works and you end up laughing, and it’s always worth it.

He’s thrilled that he’ll never forget the moment he felt his general kind regard for you blossom into something far more tender and wonderful. How on the jet home from a particularly hard case you’d seemingly been the only one to notice how hard he was taking it. How you’d come to sit with him and asked him about a book series he’d mentioned a few days before. How you seemed to instinctively know that he didn’t want to talk about the case, but he didn’t want or need to be alone in that moment. How, as the two of you exited the jet, you’d quietly asked if you could give him a hug. How warm and precious you’d felt in his embrace. How wonderful you smelled and how you tucked your head into his chest like you belonged there. 

He’s not thrilled that he will never be able to forget how very much he likes you. How he can’t seem to get together the nerve to ask you out. 

He’s initially thrilled by the fact that he’s remembered it’s your birthday, but as the day has gone on, he’s come to rather hate the fact. Well, not to hate it, exactly, but he’s very unsure of what to do about it. Because you haven’t brought it up, either. He finds the fact that he’s the only one that’s recalled your birthday, including, apparently you, to be rather disturbing. Sure, you’re still kind of new to the team, but it’s your birthday. He knows they’ve all seen your file or, at the very least your I.D. (both your FBI and your driver’s license as, despite being perfectly legal, you get asked to present it every single time the team goes out for drinks). And he knows that, obviously, not everyone has an eidetic memory. And he knows that this case hasn’t been easy...but it’s a little ridiculous. Spencer finds the idea of not celebrating the day you were born - the day some power decided to grant the gift of you into the universe - absolutely repulsive. 

However, he also wonders if he’s maybe...misread this? Maybe you want your birthday to be overlooked. The case is over, way earlier than the team thought it would be - a strange benefit of chasing a serial killer who went after the member’s of his ex-lover’s early morning yoga class is, apparently, finishing a case before noon - and they’ve returned to the hotel for the rest of the day. The jet can’t leave until the next morning, so it’s given the team a rare evening off, though this small town in Indiana isn’t exactly filled to the brim with exciting things to do at this time of year. The two of you are walking to your separate hotel rooms, which sit across from each other at the end of a long hallway and, as far as he can tell, the most pressing issue on your mind right now is taking a nap. Which he fully understands as no one on the team has gotten a full night’s sleep in the four nights you’ve been here. Spencer, himself, is absolutely exhausted, but still... You haven’t brought up your birthday. Maybe you hate it. Maybe you have some traumatic memories attached to this day. Maybe.... 

“So, is this nap going to fuck up my body’s internal clock?” you ask, interrupting his train of thought. Spencer swallows, intent on ignoring his initial reaction to you bringing up anything to do with your body. 

“At this point I’d say a side effect of working with the BAU is the demolition of any natural sleep patterns,” he replies. To his utter delight you giggle sweetly at him, causing a grin to tug at his mouth. You open your mouth to say something else when your phone rings. 

“Oh, excuse me,” you mumble, pulling your phone out. You pause in the hallway and Spencer finds himself waiting for you, even though you didn’t ask him to, nor did your slight conversation necessitate it. “Hey, Garcia, what’s-”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY?” Garcia’s voice bellows over the phone, loud enough that Spencer can hear it. Your eyes go wide with embarrassment and you turn slightly away from Spencer. 

“Oh, Pen, I just didn’t really-”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!” Garcia cuts you off again. You groan a little bit and Spencer bites back a small chuckle. He’s quickly reminded of the fact that he’ll never be able to forget how adorable you are, either. 

“Oh God,” Penelope cries, “do you not celebrate your birthday or something? I didn’t mean to pry, I just noticed it in your file while I was entering the case data into my system and-”

“Pen, I didn’t want to bother anybody with it.” It was your turn to interrupt Garcia with a huge sigh. “We’re on a case, or, we were, I guess, but it just seemed...I mean I’m still kind of new here, and it’s not a big deal-”

“It’s a HUGE deal!” Garcia exclaims.

“It’s really okay, Garcia,” you reiterate, “if anything, I have the rest of the afternoon off to catch up on sleep.” Spencer can hear the enormous, emphatic sigh from Garcia over the phone. 

“Fine,” she grumbles, “at least buy yourself a slice of cake or something.” You giggle at her defeat and Spencer can’t help but smile again. 

“I will, Pen,” you affirm. “And, hey, thank you for calling me, I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, babe,” she sighs again. “You shouldn’t be scared to mention it to the team, though; I’m sure Spencer knows it’s your birthday.” Your eyes meet his and Spencer feels the immense heat of his blush trickling up his neck. 

“I’ll be sure to ask him,” you laugh. Penelope wishes you a happy birthday again before hanging up and you once again meet Spencer’s eyes. 

“So,” you begin, awkwardly. “Did you know today’s my birthday?”

“Actually,” he admits, his anxiety rambling out the words faster than he can control them, “I did. But, you didn’t say anything...I just thought you might be embarrassed because you thought we didn’t know or we forgot or...and th-then I thought maybe you didn’t celebrate it, or something dramatic happened and you hate it now....I-I didn’t want to assume anything, but I did know about it, I promise! I would never forget - I mean, I can’t really forget stuff, but I would never-” 

“Spencer,” you interrupt him, your hands clamping over his shoulders, an action that, without much impact, still manages to knock the wind out of Spencer with its mild intimacy. You fix your eyes on his, speaking slowly and calmly, “It’s really okay. I didn’t think we’d celebrate my birthday. I’m not offended at all. It’s sweet that you remembered and thought through the implications of me potentially not celebrating it, but, it’s really fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Spencer replies, cringing inwardly at the slight whine of his voice. “It’s not fine; you deserve to be celebrated, Y/N.” 

“That’s very sweet of you, Spencer, but I-”

“Let me take you to dinner,” he gasps, trying to force back the unerring blush that’s radiating in his cheeks. Your eyes widen and you pull your hands back from his shoulders, a little shocked. 

“Sorry,” Spencer corrects himself, “I’m-I’m sorry. I d-didn’t mean to...demand t-that of you, but, um, would you allow me to take you to dinner tonight? To celebrate your birthday?”

Of all the moments he’s thrilled to be able to remember, this moment right here will be organized among his very favorite of all. You look down for a moment, biting your lip gently as your mouth teases into a smile. You meet his eyes again with the most gorgeous grin he’s ever seen and he almost can’t breathe. 

“That would be lovely, Spencer,” you agree. He wants to hug you - to kiss you, really - but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, or himself, so he settles on matching your smile and nodding happily. 

“Good,” Spencer manages to say, allowing himself the irresistible pleasure of being lost in your eyes for just a moment too long. He clears his throat, “Good. Shall we say 5:30ish?”

You nod emphatically before excusing yourself to your room. You watch him, your grin still firmly set on your face, until you’ve shut your door behind you. Spencer looks idly at his watch. 12:47. 

4 hours and 43 minutes, he thinks. I have 4 hours and 43 minutes to make this happen.

~~~

At 5:29 on the dot, Spencer raps on your door, wishing he’d tied his tie a little less tightly as he can hardly breathe regardless. He swallows deeply when you don’t immediately answer the door. Maybe you’ve changed your mind. Maybe you overslept. Maybe you-

“Hi, Spencer,” you breathe as you open the door. And, once again, Spencer is unable to breathe, but for a different reason entirely. You look absolutely fucking stunning. Another moment for the favorite memories, he thinks. The little black dress you’re wearing does you little justice, though. To be sure, you look lovely - you are lovely - always, but there’s something about the fact that you’ve dressed up for him, to go out with him, is enough to make him explode.

“H-Hi,” he stammers out raggedly. “You...you l-look-”

“It’s not much, I know,” you look away, shyly, “but it’s the best I could do from my go-bag-”

“You look stunning,” he rasps, the temptation to kiss you so strong he’s just managing to control it. Spencer swallows, the frazzle not quite leaving his voice, “I’m glad I was able to find somewhere nice enough to take you.”

“It doesn’t have to be anywhere nice, Spencer, I-”

“You deserve something nice, Y/N,” he insists. “It’s your birthday.” You blush beautifully and, even if he had reason to, Spencer doubts he could stop smiling.

“As much as I appreciate that sentiment,” you practically whisper, “I just meant that...if it’s with you, it’ll be more than enough.”

Everything he’s planned leaves his brain. The last four hours of calling, texting, buying, and plotting are the furthest thing from his mind. Spencer, almost unaware of his own body, surges forward, his hands cupping your face as gently as he dares before slotting his lips over yours. Another moment climbs to the top of his favorites as you, thankfully, kiss him back. Your hands roam his chest, a feeling he will thankfully never forget. You moan slightly into his mouth, a sound he will thankfully never forget (especially as the sensation immediately shoots to his groin). He continues the onslaught of his affection to your mouth until he absolutely cannot breathe anymore. Pulling back and panting for breath, Spencer presses a soft kiss to your hairline, before meeting your eyes, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your lips.

“I adore you,” he sighs. “And I know that you...that I’m not the best-”

“Spencer,” you admonish sweetly, “I hope you don’t think I kiss all people back like that.” He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it as you giggle up at him, sweetly. “I like you a lot, Spencer. I have for a while now.”

“Thank fuck,” he sighs, relieved. You smile back up at him, a teasing smile quirking on your lips. Spencer grabs you closer to him, a hand sliding into your hair and the other making purchase of your waist as he kisses you again.

“Spencer,” you moan breathily, as he kisses along your jaw. He’s not quite sure how it happens, but at some point he turns you around. Later, you posit that he was potentially hellbent on getting you to his bed as quickly as possible, but that seems fairly bold for Spencer’s standards. All he knows is that one moment, he’s pushed you up against his door, his lips kissing their way from your ear, which he nips cheekily, back to your mouth and the next, the two of you are falling through his door, crashing to the ground as the team yells, “SURPRISE” above you.

There is a chilling silence that, logically, Spencer knows only lasts a few seconds, but feels like hours. He stands quickly, pulling you up from the floor hastily. He can’t meet anyone’s eyes and you’re practically hiding behind him. The silence is broken by Rossi practically howling with laughter. Hotch starts laughing a second later, followed quickly by JJ and Derek. Emily narrows her eyes at Spencer. 

“Goddamnit,” she exclaims quietly. “You guys couldn’t wait until after the party?”

“What?” you ask, popping your head around his arm to look at her.

“Morgan and I had a bet that Spencer would tell you how he feels about you. He guessed before the party, I guessed after-”

“And I believe you owe me $20,” Derek remarks smugly, chuckling. Hotch steps forward, putting a hand on Derek’s shoulder.

“And then I believe you owe me that $20, Morgan,” Hotch says, sounding pleased with himself. “I told you they wouldn’t make it to the party before he kissed her.”

“What party?” you ask quietly, all the attention in the room turning back to you.

“Spence texted us all after we got back here and told us we’d missed your birthday,” JJ explains, as Derek passes a twenty dollar bill from Emily to Hotch. “And then set all of this up.”

You step to Spencer’s side and he watches as you take in his decorated hotel room. The small space has been decorated with as many balloons as Spencer could get in four hours, as well as streamers and Christmas lights. The desk is covered in food - pizza, cookies, and even a birthday cake.

“You did this?” you ask, eyes wide and slightly brimmed with tears.

“I told you I didn’t forget your birthday,” Spencer admits shyly. He sees your eyes flick to the group of profilers watching you all before you speak again.

“You have an eidetic memory. You couldn’t forget it if you tried.”

“Even if I didn’t,” Spencer interrupts, tucking an errant lock of hair behind your ear, really just as an excuse to cup your cheek. “It would take a lifetime to forget someone like you.”

You smile up at him before tipping onto your toes and pressing a kiss to his lips. Your small audience sighs in adoration, but Spencer cares about little else but you as you pull away and whisper, “I doubt this will be a birthday I’ll ever forget.”

Spencer grins down at you, absolutely thrilled he remembered your birthday.  

~ Not one word, not one gesture of yours shall I, could I, ever forget. - Leo Tolstoy ~

~~~

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[brywrites]

Gifted

Spencer Reid x Reader. Summary: All his life Spencer Reid has been told he’s gifted. And all his life he’s wondered what the point was of those gifts that felt like curses. Until her.

--------

Though he holds so many memories in his mind, Spencer Reid isn’t quite sure who the first person to call him “gifted” was. It was probably his mother, he thinks. Certainly not his father, who thought he was strange. Perhaps a teacher, or maybe even his Aunt Ethel. All he’s certain of is that he’s lost track of the number of times people have praised the so-called gifts he possesses. His eidetic memory, his autodidactism, his absurdly high IQ. His mind, they say, is a gift. But it’s felt more like a curse for most of his life.

Those same things that helped him skip grades and earn the praise of adults brought him years of bullying taunts and miserable adolescent trauma. They isolated him from his peers. His companions were library books and stories and mathematic proofs – nothing with a beating heart. They plagued his nightmares, for his mother had been brilliant too and what had that done for her? And those gifts came with a tremendous burden of pressure, they demanded use in a powerful way. Reid was always terrified he’d fail to live up to that impossible potential, proving himself unworthy of such great and terrible gifts.

By the time he’s thirty-six, he wonders why he was ever given such gifts in the first place. Clearly he’s squandered them, spent them on chasing monsters he thought might be human. They turned out to be hydras – for each one they catch, two more take its place. He’s let his mind waste away on drugs, on grief. In shacks and in prison and in grudges he just can’t let go of. He’s saved lives, he knows, but his team do that same thing without the gifts he’s been cursed with. What’s the point of him? Of any of the talents or tricks he possesses?

And it’s that question on his mind as he walks into a Virginia library to interview a witness to the latest in a string of serial arsons. Her name tag says Y/N. She’s clearly nervous, a little shaken, but she manages a smile when a child runs up to interrupt and ask her how to find The Magic Tree House books. And when she turns back to look at Reid, that smile still lingers – her eyes so bright it catches him off guard. She takes him back to the area of the library that was burned to talk about the crime scene, and she off-handedly asks if he has a favorite.

And when he says, “Oh I could never choose just one favorite. I love books too much for that,” that smile returns, unexpectedly bright.

“A man after my own heart,” she says. “Tell me a few then.” 

So he rattles off a handful, hoping at least one of them will keep that light in her eyes. They do. “Bradbury is one of my favorites, too. I just love Dandelion Wine. Sorry, I probably should focus on the fire. I try to distract myself when I feel stressed, and well, remembering what happened that night doesn’t exactly help with my anxiety.”

“It’s okay,” he tells her. “I tend to ramble when I’m nervous. Or excited. Really, I think I just talk a lot.” Another smile, one that crinkles the corners of her eyes. Over the course of the investigation, the BAU has to ask her to come to the station twice. By chance, Reid finds himself interviewing her both times, and both times he finds himself rambling a little more than he means to – because he finds himself inexplicably a little nervous and a little excited in her presence. It’s that smile, the one that lingers long in his mind after she leaves each time.

There’s something about her, about the light she seems to carry, that draws him in. That compels him to say yes when he shows up at the library to inform her they’ve caught the unsub and she asks, “Could I buy you a cup of coffee to show my appreciation? If that’s not too much, of course.”

“I think that would be perfect,” he says. And as they sit at the café across the street with lattes in oversized mugs, he’s never been so grateful for his vast knowledge of literature. Each title is a start into a new conversation with her, and they swap stories about stories – the ones they have lived and the ones they have loved. When she disappointedly announces her break is over, she adds, “But maybe we could do this again sometime?”

“Yes,” he says. “Please.”

“How should I get in touch with you if you’re not showing up at the library to interrogate me, Dr. Reid?” she teases.

He hastily withdraws his cell phone from his pocket and offers it to her. She begins to type in her number. “You, um, you can call me Spencer,” he tells her.

She grins at him and something in his chest shifts at the sight. “I’ll definitely call you soon, Spencer.” He’s never liked the sound of his own name more. And he thanks that eidetic memory of his for allowing him to replay it again and again in his mind until he can see her next.

.

They get coffee again the first chance he gets. And then again. When she asks how he has time to read so much and he tells her about how his mind works – about his memory and speed-reading and quantified intelligence, all the things that have been called gifts – she thinks for a moment before saying, “That must be lonely.”

The relief he feels at her understanding is immense. “It is sometimes,” he admits. “But it’s felt less so lately.” They go to a park together. Then out to dinner. By the time he realizes he’s falling, he’s forgotten what it feels like to be on solid ground. Fortunately, he isn’t the only one at the mercy of gravity. She feels it too. And when she laughs at his joke as he walks her home from dinner, he just can’t help himself. He leans in and cups her cheek to pull her to him, pressing his lips to her still-smiling lips. The taste of wine still on her tongue. And though he doesn’t drink anymore, the sensation of her is enough to make him feel utterly intoxicated.

Slowly, his life fills up with her. His sabbatical arrives with the perfect timing to allow him evenings and weekends with her. He picks her up after work. She meets him for breakfast. He takes her to the planetarium. She falls asleep on his couch. He tells her it won’t always be this way and she assures him that’s okay. But it gives him the chance to build the foundation their relationship needs. It’s in that time that he begins to catalogue her smiles in his memory. The dazzling ones she sends his way when she spots him at a coffee shop. The soft, shaky ones she wears after a long kiss. The coy ones that twist the corner of her mouth when she’s teasing him. The nervous one that slowly grows when she meets his team for the first time – not as a witness, but as his girlfriend. A title she declares like a badge of honor. He holds each smile in his mind, picture perfect thanks to that eidetic memory. When a case has been particularly tough or he’s away for longer than he’d like, he flips through them in his mind, trying to remember the cause of each one, trying to hold on to that light until he can hold her in his arms again.

.

He surprises her with flowers on her birthday. “You remembered?” she gasps, her eyes wide. “And these – these are my favorite. How did you know?”

“I could never forget,” he laughs, but she stares down at the bouquet and clutches them to her chest.

“I don’t make a big deal about my birthday, so people don’t usually remember,” she says quietly. “And nobody’s ever gotten me flowers before. Thank you, Spencer.” A pause, and then, “I love you.”

He grins from ear to ear. Forget the sound of his name, those three words are the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. “I love you, too.” It’s a first for both of them. And one week later comes another first – witnessing her panic attacks for the first time. She’s shaking too hard to tell him what she needs, so he tries to do what would help him. He sits down next to her on his living room rug and wraps her in his arms. He rests his head on her shoulder and murmurs the words to her favorite poem. She seems to breathe a little easier and so he recites another one she loves, and another until her breathing finally steadies and she unclenches her fists to wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face in his sweater.

Suddenly it doesn’t feel like such a curse to remember everything he reads when it means he can give her the words she loves when she needs them most.

The first time they sleep together is only the second time he’s been intimate with someone and he feels more awkward than he wishes he was. But he commits himself to studying, to remembering what she likes and what she doesn’t, and the next time he proves to be the quickest of learners when he succeeds at making her come within a matter of minutes. He discovers a new smile of hers, one of dreamy bliss and kiss-swollen lips. He loves it. He loves her, adores every single part of her she’s shared with him and every piece yet to be found. And to his continued surprise and delight, she loves him just as much.

He tries every day to be worthy of that love. He makes time for her. He goes to meet her friends and he shakes their hands even though he hates touching people, even though she insists, “You don’t have to. They won’t mind.” He does it because she’s the only person in the world whose touch he actually craves.

When she swoons over a dress Penelope has shown her on Instagram, he makes a note of it. She’s utterly enamored by it by her smile falls upon checking the price tag. It’s far out of her budget. So the next week when he’s out on a case in Atlantic City, he swings by one of the few casinos that doesn’t have his picture framed on the wall of their security office. He wins more than the cost of the dress in an hour and leaves before anyone can get suspicious. The dress arrives at his apartment the same day he gets home, and he invites her over to surprise her with it. When she opens the box, her eyes go wide.

“Spencer, this is… this can’t be. It’s… do you know how expensive this is?” Y/N asks.

Bashfully, he replies, “Now might be a good time to mention I’m banned from casinos in almost every state for my card counting abilities.” It’s well worth the little effort he expended to see the way her face lights up at the sight of it. And though he’s never been a gambling man, when he sees her wearing it for the first time he considers trying his luck a little more often.

At times he worries he’s doing too much, but how could it ever be when the way she loves him has been so much more than enough? For the first time in his life, he feels like maybe he’s enough. When she says, “I love you,” he believes it. When she says, “I’ll be back,” he trusts her. He’s given another person more of his heart than he ever has before, and for once he’s not afraid of it breaking. She doesn’t mind the strange hours he works or heaviness he sometimes carries with him. When he wakes up from a nightmare, she holds him close and keeps him grounded. He sends postcards from each city he visits and she makes his favorite food when he comes home and home is suddenly a place they share. She moves into his apartment and it feels like it was never complete without her there.

.

Not long after, there is a case in Boston. Their terrifyingly intelligent unsub taunts Reid as he leaves the interrogation room. “Judge me all you want, Dr. Reid. But I’ve used my mind to change the world. You’ve done nothing with yours.” The words haunt him on the flight home. He sits on the back of the plane lost in thought. What has he done? Sure he’s saved lives, but could he have done more? Could someone else have used those gifts he’s been burdened with in a way that was better? Why does he have any of these talents? Why has he acquired any of these skills?

His phone chimes. A text from her. Brought home a new book from the library I think you’ll love! Can’t wait to see you, dearest. And it hits him.

It’s her. All along it’s been her.

The answer echoes in his head as he races home to her. Everything in his life has led him to her, has let him be the person she needs. He can memorize all her favorite songs and poems to recite for her when her anxiety gets the best of her. He can remember every date that matters to her and everything she adores. He can read her favorite books overnight to talk about them with her in the morning. He can profile from her body language and her microexpressions when she’s having a bad day and needs him to be there for her, even when she’s too afraid to ask for what she needs. When she asks absurd questions out of the blue, he can give her actual answers with the useless encyclopedia of knowledge he’s obtained over the years. When she needs a distraction his rambling finally proves useful. It’s all for her.

She’s the reason his mind doesn’t feel like a curse anymore. How could he ever think of it with disdain when it’s the reason he can picture every smile she’s ever let him see? When he can catalogue every wonderful word from her lips, every inch of her skin, every action that drives her wild.

Reid can’t seem to open the door to their apartment fast enough. When he finally steps inside, she’s sitting on the couch. She turns away from the book in her lap to smile at him. “Welcome back,” she says. Then, tilting her head, “Is everything okay?”

An unshakeable grin spreads across his face and he knows he must look like a madman right now as he crosses the living to sit beside her. “Everything’s perfect. I just… I had this epiphany. All the things I hate about myself, you love. And all the things I can do let me love you better. It just feels like everything – everything has led me to you. Even the bad things, I mean, being in prison forced me to take sabbaticals and if I hadn’t we wouldn’t have had that time together early on and maybe we wouldn’t have worked and I don’t believe in fate,” he says, taking a breath. “But I can’t help but feel like for the first time, I’m right where I’m supposed to be. With you. Like that’s where I was meant to be all along. And I… I just thought you should know.”

His long-winded rambling is rewarded with one of his favorite smiles from her – one that makes her eyes soft and puts sunsets to shame. The kind she wears when she is incandescently happy. Her fingers lace through his and they are a perfect fit in his big hands. “There is nowhere else I’d rather be,” she says, leaning in to kiss him.

All his life, Spencer Reid has been told he is gifted. But this time, he thinks it might actually be true. He holds the greatest gift the universe has ever granted him in his arms and knows that no part of him is a curse if he is loved by her.

[mercy-burning]

Cold Feet

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After receiving a letter from an old flame just days away from her wedding, Reader wonders if she should call it all off. —Inspired by the song Cold Feet by Tenille Arts Category: Angst (happy ending) Content Warnings: An almost kiss that isn’t with Reader’s fiancé, and blink and you’ll miss it implied smut Word Count: 1.7k

MASTERLIST | Alternate Version/Ending of Cold Feet

NOTE: When @meganskane announced her 700 follower celebration I just knew this idea would be the perfect way to implement one of the prompts she gave! The one I chose is “quit looking at me like that” ❤

Also! Fun fact: this song opens with “they’re all set to go on the 18th of June”, and that’s today, so it’s festive 😊)

***

She should be happily wrapped in a dream, Dying to kiss him and put on his ring. So why is she walking alone after midnight, Down a small town street, with cold feet?

Y/N is currently finding it difficult to breathe.

It was easier a couple days ago when she knew exactly what she wanted. Her husband-to-be was more than excited to marry her, and she'd reciprocated that feeling entirely. Everything was ready to go. Truthfully, they could have gotten married right this second if that's what they wanted, that's how ready to go they were.

But now? She was questioning everything.

She still feels the thin paper in her hands, even with its folded body currently tucked away in an old book she knew was never going to be opened again— a gift from the man who'd written the letter in the first place.

The first time she read it, her heart sank. And by the third time she'd read it, her heart soared.

And then her fiancée walked in, asked her about what to make for dinner, and her heart sank all over again.

Honestly, damn him for choosing now to finally confess. Damn him for making her question everything, after she'd finally moved on and found someone who would always be around.

But then again, she'd ended up choosing to live in a house in their hometown, just blocks away from that creek he'd mentioned in his letter. So... Maybe she hadn't moved on entirely

She hated that she even had to think about it.

She hated that her thoughts were so consumed with this man she hadn't seen in years when the man she was about to marry slept next to her every night, unaware of the start to her inner turmoil. Each night since then, she dreamt of dances with both of them, alternating between the two until they made her choose which of them she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And every morning she'd wake with an even bigger tear in her heart than when the old flame had burned it alive and left her alone in the aftermath to piece it back together.

Her fiancée helped her do that, though. Day by day he taught her to love again, to trust in somebody again, and he was truly a good man.

So why was it absolutely destroying her, thinking of getting married to him when there was someone else in the picture to think about? Someone who'd had a hold on her for well over fifteen years?

Again, she hated that she even had to think about it.

But she wasn't about to get married with all these conflicting thoughts, so whether she wanted to or not, her only real option was the one that would also be the hardest on her tattered heart.

She'd sent him a text message this morning that read, Midnight, and tucked her phone away for the rest of the day, drowning herself in mindless work and looking to keep time moving forward.

Now, she struggles to breathe as she makes her way down to the creek.

It's cold, having just rained fifteen minutes prior, and she wraps her fiancée's cardigan tightly over her her arms, searching for warmth and comfort. She would have settled for one of her own, heavier pieces, but in some strange way she thought maybe having something there that belonged to her fiancée would ground her, something to remind her of the gravity of the situation at hand.

Nothing could have grounded her upon seeing her ex boyfriend after all these years, though, especially when she finally shows up to their old spot and sees him perched on the big stump right next to the water, relief and joy flooding through his features at the sight of her. His smile is just as bright and familiar as she remembered, and it just about knocks the wind out from under her feet.

"Hi, Y/N," he greets softly, standing up and stretching his hands out over his legs. It's obvious that he's nervous to meet up with her after all these years apart, and she couldn't blame him in the slightest.

She's just as nervous as her feet take baby steps towards him. Meanwhile she's hugging her fiancée's cardigan around her body tighter than before. "Hi..."

"I... I can't believe you actually wanted to meet. Truthfully I thought I wouldn't hear back from you."

"Well... Your letter kind of rattled me... You rattled me. I guess I just had to know..."

There's a long pause before he takes a small step towards her and tilts his head. His words are hesitant, like he thinks she might say something he doesn't want to hear. "And... What do you know?"

"I know that I love my fiancée. After you, I didn't really think I'd ever love anyone the same way again, but... He makes me happier than I've ever been, and I... I can't just discard that feeling because you decided too late that you still love me. You know?"

"I do, Y/N, I really do," he answers earnestly, and this time his hand reaches out to grab hers. "But... I mean, you showed up here, didn't you? That has to count for something..."

She isn't really sure how to respond after that. It's true that seeing this man in front of her for the first time in years has brought back a wave of feelings that she'd repressed and even experienced with someone new.

But it's also true that with those feelings comes an inevitable aftertaste of bitterness. He'd left her, decided ultimately that his career was more important to him, and now that she has someone new he's asking her to leave behind this peace she's found. And for what? For him? What's to stop him from leaving again, or deciding years or months down the road that he'd made a mistake and gotten her to leave her one shot at happiness after him?

Nonetheless, she sits with him for hours, listening to him explain... Giving him a chance.

He apologizes for the past, he promises to do better in the future, and in between he makes her laugh. Their hands brush, their breaths mingle as they huddle from the cold, and with every passing minute, the cardigan on her shoulders becomes looser and more forgotten.

Slowly but surely, he's lowering her defenses and gaining her trust. He's showing her bits and pieces of the man she fell in love with until they're laughing at close to 3am.

And then, for a moment, it's quiet. Absolutely quiet, save for the crickets and the soft rolling of the creek behind them.

Y/N almost lets him kiss her then.

But then her heart hammers in her chest, and not in a good way. Suddenly, she's imagining the pure heartbreak that would surely manifest on her fiancée's face if he found out- if she really decided to leave him for this old flame that had barely started to kindle once again years later.

She has to be absolutely certain of her decision.

So she pulls back and wraps her fiancée's cardigan tightly around her arms. "I should go home."

There's disappointment in his eyes, and it twists her gut a little. "Right... Um... I-I can take you back, if you want."

"No, I, uh... I think I'm gonna walk. I have to think."

Y/N avoids his gaze just quickly enough that she doesn't see the disappointment in his eyes fizzle into a tiny sliver of hope.

Rain on the sidewalk, doubt in her mind. One thing's for sure, she's running out of time To decide what's right, And who's heart she's willing to break.

She climbs into bed some time later, the cardigan still wrapped tightly around her body, and she can't quite bring herself to face the man sleeping next to her. It feels wrong, like somehow she's betrayed him by even thinking of spending the rest of her life with another person. She doesn't feel worthy of his love.

When she wakes up the next morning, she'd somehow ended up facing him anyway. He's staring at her with adoring eyes, and under his gaze she can't help the guilt that washes over her.

"Quit looking at me like that..."

Her words are grumbly and soft because of having just woken up, and because her face is half hidden behind blankets and his cardigan, her fiancée doesn't know anything is wrong.

Instead, he laughs. "What, you're beautiful... And before you start arguing with me, yes, you're even beautiful when you wake up."

She only grumbles, feeling anything but.

It's quiet for a moment or two before he speaks again. "You're wearing my cardigan..."

Peeking her eyes out from the mountain of fabric, she can see the enchantment in his eyes and it makes her warm. "I was cold..."

While true, she mostly means I had cold feet.

"Come here."

Two simple words, two syllables, and yet it's the softest declaration of love she's ever heard. Her body instinctively nestles into his, face going straight into the crook of his neck while he wraps her up in his arms.

"There," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You feel warmer yet?"

"Mhm..." She sighs into his skin and then takes in a deep breath.

He smells like home.

He feels like home.

And as he starts softly humming her favorite song, rubbing soothing circles into her back as he holds her close, Y/N wonders why she'd ever doubted her love for him.

He is home.

James never was.

Y/N burrows herself further into Spencer's body and plants a gentle kiss to his neck, shivering slightly at the way his curly locks tickle her temple.

He stops humming and laughs. "What are you feeling for breakfast?"

"Hmmm... You." She articulates her point by selfishly kissing his neck, reminiscent of Cookie Monster.

Pretty soon, the two of them are laughing together, limbs tangling and breaths mingling, and then an hour and a half later they're in the kitchen, sipping on coffee.

As its warmth radiates through her throat and chest, Y/N studies him from across the room. He flips through pages of a book as he drinks his coffee, and for a brief moment, his eyes flick up to see her staring.

The action brings a smile to both their faces, and Y/N has never felt happier.

She's never felt more loved.

***

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[kn1feinthec0ffee]

i adore you - spencer reid

spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: 5 things spencer loves about you.

warnings: none

word count: 525

notes: ik this isn’t the typical ‘x reader’ kinda thing, but to me, it’s kind of a love letter to whoever reads this. i hope you know that you are beautiful (inside and out) and you are loved.

also i know this is p short but last week was so busy and i haven’t posted in FOREVER and i felt really bad about that but inspiration suddenly struck so i typed this up & i hope you enjoy!!!

********************

he adored your eyes.

as the old saying goes, eyes are the window to the soul, and spencer had never known that to be truer than when he looked at you.

your eyes would narrow - either deep in thought or clouded in confusion - and he could very nearly see the gears in your head turning as you contemplated whatever was on your mind at the moment. he loved seeing your eyes widen in surprise or crinkle in utter joy and happiness. with eyes as beautiful and expressive as yours, spencer couldn’t help but gaze into them as often as he could.

he adored your smile.

there wasn’t a thing he could say that hadn’t been written time and time again, but your smile lit up the room.

he loved the way the corners of your lips couldn’t help but turn up when someone made a joke, no matter how corny it was. the genuine, heartfelt smile you donned when something really meant a lot to you nearly sent his heart into a frenzy. but most of all, he loved the smile that graced your lips when you were truly happy. it was a grin of unencumbered felicity in its purest form and he felt incredibly honored to witness it.

he adored your hands.

similar to your eyes, spencer found your hands to be just as expressive. he loved the way they would clasp together or even flap when you were excited, or the way they would gesture broadly when you talked about an interesting topic.

your hands would cup his cheeks, thumbing tenderly over his cheekbones, inciting complete tranquility within him. he loved when he would find them wrapped around him, interlocked with his own, or rooted in his curls. rather selfishly, he supposed, spencer wished he could keep the wonders of your touch all to himself.

he adored your heart.

one of the first things spencer noticed when he met you was how much room you have in your heart for others. you always made time for the ones you love if they needed you, and he thinks it was that consistency that drew him to you. you could forgive others without harboring any hostility or holding grudges, and you were very willing to put your trust in others - two abilities of yours spencer had greatly admired.

you had a great capacity for empathy towards everyone, and merely being in the presence of such love made his heart skip a beat every time. as cliché as it sounds, your love truly knew no boundaries, that much was clear to see.

but most of all, he adored you.

you were his muse; he very rarely found a moment in time that you weren’t on his mind.

as long as he could go on and on about every little thing he adored about you, spencer loved you most of all. the amalgamation of all these wonderful traits, you were an ethereal being he couldn’t help but be astonished by every time he laid eyes on you.

spencer lived a life of uncertainty, but loving you was the only thing he was certain of.

********************

i know it’s a little different, but i hope you guys like this!!! i just want to remind you all that you’re all worthy of love. i’m so sappy today i apologize

tagging the usuals & ppl who i think might be interested :) 

tags: @sojournmichael @stinkyelf​ @crazyfore3​ @cal-ifornication​ @eggygorl02​ @howdycharlie​ @eosprincess​ @mortallythoughtfulgurl​ @illuxions-x​ @unlikelyempathpruneauthor​ @blankets-for-bees​ @holycandypizza​ @flyingbabyunicornnamedangel​ @lovelyrdjr​ @elitereid​ @minnie-bby​ @rexorangecouny​ @ashwarren32​ @fantastic-fans​ @keomoon​ @elric8097​ @jjtheangel​ @whoreforthebau​ @theonewithcriminalminds​ @angelbunnyoxo​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @beatleszeppelin​ @ctrl-4lt-del​ @dreatine​ @averyhotchner​ @spacedikut​ @you-sunshine​ @andiebeaword​

[spacedikut]

“i want to love someone and be loved” ; spencer reid - part 1

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x reader

summary: spencer makes a confession as you’re doing dishes together. this is from a prompt list but i can’t find it :( 1633 words. part 2 

a/n: this was originally a poe dameron thing but i started thinking about it with spencer and then there were tears streaming down my face then i wrote it

Your favourite memories with the team are always those where you really feel like a family. Most days these are only fleeting moments, less than five minute conversations filled with banter and affectionate insults, but there are times, like now, where you’re all sat around Rossi’s dinner table with too much wine and too much pasta (although there is no such thing), and you feel like you might cry from happiness.

You’re a family.

The downside to being a family is you get treated like a family member, meaning when you and Spencer are assigned to clean dishes, dry them and put them away, you sulk to the kitchen just like you did when you were eleven and your younger sibling got out of helping by claiming he has too tired.

At least you can stare at Spencer as you do it.

In the kitchen, you’re working in perfect harmony – you, elbow deep in somehow tolerable hot water, scrubbing away at the bowls and plates stained with pasta sauce, and Spencer who methodically dries said bowls and plates with a worrying amount of scrutiny.

Right before you open your mouth to ask him if he’s okay, Spencer speaks.

“What do you think of love?”

Huh. Didn’t expect that.

“Love is… is good, I guess.”

You’re not sure what to say, or what he wants you to say. There’s obviously an answer he’s looking for, but you’re not sure you can provide it.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Your brows furrow. The question catches you off guard and your hand freezes mid-wipe. Why is he asking you this? It’s not that you’re not close with Spencer, cause you are, but you feel ill-equipped for this conversation. You wish you could somehow swap positions with Hotch, or Rossi, maybe Derek. Or Emily! Anyone, except you.

“I don’t think so, no, Spence.”

He grimaces.

“Why?”

“Well, because-cause…” He pauses and grits his teeth, as if the words are painful to force out, “I want to love someone and be loved.”

The confusion shines brightly in your eyes, “You are loved, Spence. Everyone in our unit would do anything for you, you know that. I’d go so far as to say you’re the favourite, probably the most loved person in the BAU.”

“No. No.” He shakes his head, “I want someone to love me. Romantically. Not Dr Spencer Reid of the BAU, notorious rambler and know-it-all who’s exceptionally good at pissing people off. I want them to love me – Spencer – the guy who is a technophobe, a pretty bad shot, and secretly wants to be a cowboy. The guy who has a recurring dream that Morgan forces me into a room where I’m plunged into darkness and Doctor Who is playing but it’s in a language I don’t understand. I don’t.. I don’t want someone that’ll make me feel like a baby, like the team sometimes does, you know? I think I’d be a great partner and I just… I just want someone to share something with. Something good, something pure, in this job where we face evil and demise every day.”

You’re in stunned silence when he makes eye contact, hands stilled mid-air as you gape at him.

“Sorry. Totally unloaded a lot of emotional stuff on you there – my bad. Uhh..” He clears his throat.

The air becomes awkward as you figure out how to reply. You flounder. You don’t know what to follow that speech with. It almost feels like the right time to admit your feelings for him, but a second later you realise this conversation sounds a lot like one you’d have with someone you definitely do not have feelings for. You’re just a consultation, you’re not the end goal. Suddenly, you wish you had been assigned to clearing the table rather than washing up.

Swallowing what feels like pure acid, you begin, “That’s sweet, Spence. Genuinely. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting that.” You want to reach out and touch him, but your hands are now submerged in water, and touching him might break you. “So what’s stopping you?”

“Huh?”

“What’s stopping you from getting that?” You ask. “I’ve seen you. When you put your mind to it, you can be preeeetty smooth with the ladies. Remember the magic trick you did for that one girl?” Spencer gives a small, shy smile, “Exactly! So what’s stopping you?”

Spencer looks like a deer in headlights. What is stopping him? He’s proud to say his confidence has exponentially grown since joining the BAU. When he started, his self-esteem was non-existent, but times passed and he’s grown to accept himself the way he is. It helps that you’ve been there, cheering him on and showering him in compliments whenever he starts to doubt himself. Initially, Spencer thought you were doing it just to get on his good side, maybe build some good karma, but somewhere along the line he started to somewhat agree with you. The compliments never ceased.

“Well,” He starts, “I’m picky.”

You scoff, “Yeah, if I was you, I’d be picky.”

You turn and squirt some dish soap into the sink, smiling when Spencer laughs, “What does that mean?!”

“You know what it means! I always say you could be a ladies man if you truly put your mind to it, and I stand by that. You’re a ten out of ten on a bad day so, yeah, you should be picky. I’m tempted to say no one is worthy, but I’ve already inflated your ego too much.”

He grins at your teasing and licks his lips, “There is one person.”

“Oh?” You ask, interest piqued. You ignore the pang in your heart.

“Yeah. She’s really cool. It’s kind of terrifying.”

You giggle at that. There’s a warmth to Spencer’s words, and you realise whoever this girl is is super fucking lucky. He’s completely and utterly smitten and she doesn’t even know it. You kind of hate her.

“So are you gonna tell her?” You ask.

He shrugs, “I guess so. Should I?”

Finally done with the washing up, you move to put the dried plates into their cupboards. With a quizzical look, you say, “You’re really asking me that? Yes, you should tell her.”

“Would you tell her?”

“God, no.”

“What?!”

“I’m shy when it comes to that stuff! I’d rather ferment my feelings and then tell myself to get over it and never think of it again.”

“Sounds healthy.”

You grin, turning to lean against the counter next to Spencer, “I would tell her if I was you, though. You’re sweet, attractive, and you have more than just your looks going for you. If I was you and got rejected I’d be like… okay, cool. I’ll just go bang every one of your friends, then.”

Spencer guffaws, “You’d what?!”

“I’m kidding!” You laugh, a hearty laugh at his expression. The pure shock and borderline disgust makes you oddly proud. It’s a rare reaction from Spencer.

He rolls his eyes but still smiles. His eyes lock on your face and you can’t pinpoint what emotion is pouring out of them, but it’s so strong that it shoots panic through you. You quickly turn and pick up as many glasses as you can, manoeuvring to the opposite side of the kitchen.

You can’t be thinking about him like that if he’s about to admit his feelings for someone else.

“So, you gonna tell her?” You try to sound nonchalant, but you can’t deny you’re unbelievably curious.

Spencer hums, but still sounds unsure, “I think I will.”  

“If she’s as great as you think she is, no matter her response she’ll handle it well. Otherwise, she wasn’t worth your time anyway.”

Behind your back, Spencer barely contains a gentle smile and thinks, yeah, you are pretty great.

“What did you say?” You swing around to face him.

Spencer straightens up and furiously dries the last bowl, “What?”

“You mumbled something.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

You’re visibly bemused but don’t say anything. Spencer opens his mouth to speak, maybe tell you what he should’ve a while ago, when Emily comes sliding in.

“Garcia has had too much wine and I’m one glass away from joining her. Y/N, are you ready to head home?”

You roll your eyes and nod. In hindsight, you’re glad that you refused the big glass of wine Rossi initially offered you because you knew this would happen and you’d be taking drunk girls home. “Yeah, all good. Spence, is it okay if I leave you to put the last few dishes away?”

Spencer nods eagerly and glances at Emily when she sways, “No problem. Drive safe.”

You mumble a thanks and move to the living room to collect your bag. Garcia is splayed across the biggest couch and you can’t help but aww at her sleeping form. Just an hour ago she was giving a sermon on why Hotch is the best dad and how that translates to the bedroom (why did no one stop her), and now she looks at peace with the world in the fluffiest pillows you’ve ever seen. Then she chokes, snorts, and springs upright with a loud “Derek!” and you jump back at her volume. When she sees you, she looks like she’s found the cutest kitten and makes grabby hands, asking for a hug.

Yeah, it’s time to go home.

Just before you leave Rossi’s house, you turn to Spencer and shout across, “Good luck, Spence!”

Morgan turns to Spencer and silently asks what? And Spencer barely acknowledges him, “I’ve got big plans for tomorrow.”

“Big plans, huh?” Morgan teases.

“Yeah. Big plans, big payoff, and all that.”

Looking over your shoulder, you give one final wave after tying Garcia to her seat.

Spencer wonders if you realise you’re his big plan.

[jpegjade]

Smile for the Camera - Spencer

it’s 2 days late but i havE A NEW FIC! i don’t really know what else to say this time so yeah here you go!

gender: not mentioned/neutral

type: fluff

warnings: none

______

You hoped you weren’t going to be late. There was an accident on the highway when you were on your way over to Rossi’s house and you kept praying to whatever was out there for you to make it on time. 

Pulling up to the driveway, you saw lights on in the house but the blinds were closed. so you couldn't tell if anything was happening. You heaved a big sigh and grabbed your camera bag. 

“Here we go.” You said to yourself. 

It was always a big production to go to weddings, no matter how small they are. Weddings were draining in the best ways. You loved seeing people in love but it was hard with how little was going in your life sometimes. 

You got a text from Will that read, ’Just walk straight to the backyard when you get here. That’s where we will do the ceremony.’ 

You quietly walked to the back gate and gasped. The decorations were simple but beautiful. String lights, candles, lightly decorated chairs. You felt the urge to cry coming on but you held back. You had a job to do while everyone was gone at the end of the night, then you could cry out of happiness. 

Click. One picture down. Click click. More photos loaded as you got shots in. This was the most calming moment, when there was no one around and you got to be by yourself and get your jitters out. The sound of the camera shutter was so loud in your head but so quiet when you worked. 

“Well look who it is!” A southern New Orleans accent drawled from behind you as you wrapped up shooting. 

“Wil!” You turned, opening your arms to hug your best friend’s fiance. 

You and Will had always been reasonably close because of your bonds with JJ. You didn’t meet the people in her life often but you heard stories and when Will officially came into the picture, you were in love with his chemistry with JJ. You knew this day would happen, especially after Henry, it was only a matter of time.

“Are you ready, big guy?” You asked, taking in his dapper appearance. 

He looked so nice that you knew JJ was going to cry when she saw him. Hell, you were going to cry when you see her and you get to see her before everyone else. Let’s face it… You were just going to cry over everything. Everything was cry-worthy because you knew it was all done in love. Everything here was about love.

“No. I mean yes, I get to call her my wife but I have been practicing my vows for an hour and I still don’t know what to say.” Will chucked as you smiled with him. 

“I think you’ve got it.” You comforted him. 

You were about to say something when someone yelled about JJ pulling up in the driveway. This was Will’s cue to greet JJ at the door with Henry. They arrived in separate cars so Will could get the surprise together but the ruse was that Will was picking up a specific wine as a gift to Rossi since it was his party and you always bring the party host wine. It was a ruse because in reality, Will got to Rossi’s place early to make sure that everything was up and running as smoothly as possible. 

Suddenly, a group of people came walking out of the backdoor. You started taking photos of them coming out as if they were the bridal party, the bridesmaids and groomsmen who stand on the altar with the couple, but you knew they were the guests. 

The first guy out of the door winked at you, causing you to feel your face get hot. Whenever people gave themselves attention through the camera, you felt like it was attention towards you because you were the person behind the camera. You often had to remind yourself that it’s all for the camera, not you. 

“Hey, y/n!” Emily called as she grew closer to you. She was right behind the guy so you didn’t see her until she was standing right in front of you.

“You look really nice.” You said, taking a picture of Emily. She looked slightly bashful at the sight of the camera on her but she went with it anyway. 

You met Emily before at a dinner party that JJ invited you to. Emily, JJ, and Penelope sat around JJ’s kitchen table drinking wine and JJ invited you over because she knew you could use the break to chit chat and be with people without being under pressure to mingle and make business connections like at weddings. You always thought she was a bit brash but you also appreciated how straight-forward Emily always was. 

“Thank you. Are you going to photograph the wedding?” Emily asked as you walked to the middle of the aisle together. Emily was on her way to talk to someone else in the yard and you were waiting for JJ, Will and Henry to come out the back door. 

“Yeah. Will asked me to do it. “ You smiled. 

“I know you’ll do great. You always do.” Emily was genuinely complimenting you and it was your turn to be bashful. 

Being a friend of JJ, she always had you take their family photos so she could post them to Facebook and frame them. Emily obviously saw your photos, along with JJ’s many friends and family, so she kept up with you. 

Emily walked to her seat while you noticed Rossi and JJ’s mother walking to the back door. You followed at a distance, your longest distance lens ready to capture JJ’s face. All you could see was mouths moving but you kept the camera going until it hit her. click click click clickˆ. There was the recognition on JJ’s face about what was happening. 

“Y/n!” JJ noticed you behind Rossi, who you knew as the rich older guy whose house hosted many dinner nights that you were often invited to but you were too busy with weddings and other events on the weekends to go. It was nice to actually attend for once. 

“JJ!” You said, a big smile spreading on your face. 

You can JJ hugged before her mom ushered the two of you off to a room. 

“You knew?” JJ asked as you got pictures of her and her mom getting her dressed in that gorgeous gown. 

It fit her so nicely that it was almost like it was made for JJ… Little did she know that you had a hand in making sure it was fitted to her perfectly leading up to the wedding. It was a challenge but you were able to figure out her measurements through compiling a series of images, some of her clothes, and a special 3D rendering program that Penelope helped program. It sounds easy but it was incredibly difficult to put together in a short amount of time to ensure that the dress was going to be a perfect fit.

“Kinda. It was a last minute thing, which gave me no time to spoil it.” You weren’t the best at secrets but you were by far better than Penelope. You learned that pretty soon after you met her for the first time. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. I wouldn’t want to be here without you.” JJ said, her mom zipping her up finally. 

You gave the two of them time alone while you went and looked for a good place to set up. You could feel the tears coming on as you closed the door to the bedroom but you took a deep breath. It was a happy day and you were just feeling overwhelmed. Weddings could be stressful and a lot to handle a lot of the time but they made you happy at the end of the day. 

As you stood in the front row, waiting for JJ to walk down the aisle, you noticed a boy out of the corner of your eye, just talking to Emily. He glanced over at you for a moment, fixing his hair, before focusing on Emily again. You wondered if he worked with JJ… 

The ceremony came and went. From JJ’s gorgeous dress under the stars to Henry and WIll looking nice and the photos of the first kiss, you couldn’t stop crying between shots. It was hard to see but thank the lord for autofocus because you wouldn’t be able to nail the manual focus through your tears. You had never seen her so happy, other than when you saw her in the hospital holding Henry for the first time, so this was an amazing occasion. You missed being a guest for a special moment like this but you would be sobbing if you weren’t doing a job. 

As JJ, Will and Henry walked inside for a little bit for a private moment after the ceremony, you were left outside by yourself as everyone started to mingle. Out of sheer anxiety, you flipped through your preview screen with all of your shots on your camera. With JJ inside, Penelope at the snack table, and Emily dancing with a tall, commanding man with dark hair, you were left not knowing anyone. 

You decided to go sit down at a table and take a break when you heard Henry’s laugh. Looking up, you noticed the cute guy doing magic tricks with Henry over by the table. You couldn’t help but stare at the two of them, a pang in your heart. 

With all of your friends getting married or engaged, you found yourself getting lonlier. They were all pairing off and getting on with their lives while you were committed to your job. That was perfectly fine but your photos couldn’t talk back to you when you were alone at night, needing an emotional connection. 

Click. Click. Click. You took more shots of Henry smiling from afar, pausing to look at the previews, before you went inside to get something to drink. If anyone needed a shot right now, it was you.

Two shots in, you heard a door closing behind you. 

“You should say hi to him.” JJ said, smiling. 

Instinctively, she was playing with her wedding ring. It was a foreign object on her hand so of course she would play with it between her fingers. 

“I should not do that. I’m here to work.” You smiled back. 

The smile was a little bit forced because you had this conversation with JJ before. You see a cute person and JJ encourages you to go for it. You shoot her down and tell her all the reasons it wouldn’t work out. The two of you laugh about it and move on. 

“Spence is a nice guy.” JJ chuckled, looking out to the backyard. 

“His name is Spence?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Spencer Reid is his name.” JJ corrected. “But I’ve always called him Spence when no one would give him a nickname when he first got to the BAU.” 

“Oh, that’s cute.” You said, distractedly. 

Looking over at Spencer, he was still playing with Henry. Another magic trick that piqued your interest as you tried to see how he did it. He was just too smooth because you couldn’t see the switcheroo moment. 

“Go, talk to him! Take a break for a little bit. You’ve been working this entire time and I know the shots aren’t going to cure the lonely feeling.” JJ said, a soft smile on her face. 

You thought about it for a second, slowly feeling the effects of the shots flowing to your head. It wasn’t enough to knock you off balance but enough to loosen you up a little bit. 

“I just might.” You said, your resolve hitting you. 

JJ smiled at you as you went outside to where Spencer sat. One. Two. One. Two. You counted your steps, looking down at your feet as you felt the nerves threatening to come back up. Where was the confidence you felt a minute ago? You could do this. 

Just when you were about to open your mouth, Henry spotted you and came running up to hold your leg. 

“Y/N!” He yelled, looking up at you. 

In the second you paused to gain your balance and look down at Henry, you looked back up to see Spencer talking to the guy that winked at your camera in the beginning of the wedding. They seemed to be talking about something serious so you gave up and decided to dance with Henry. 

“Hey buddy, will you dance with me?” You asked Henry, who was still clinging to your leg. You took your camera from it’s resting place on your chest and placed it in your shoulder bag. 

Henry nodded his head and the two of you went out to the dance floor, him holding onto your hands and swaying off tempo. You were looking at Henry, who occasionally let go of your hand to push the hair out of his face, and sneaking glances at Spencer, who was starting to look deflated in his conversation. You wondered what he was talking about that made him deflate at a wedding. 

“Mind if I cut in?” Will’s voice shook you out of your wandering thoughts about Spencer. 

“Of course. I’m sure you guys should have a family dance.” You said, stepping away. 

“I wanted to dance with you, not him.” Will chuckled.

Henry ran over to his mom, who was at the snack table with Spencer, while you and will had a dance. You didn’t even notice Spencer get up and move. 

“This is beautiful.” You said, looking around. You noticed the air get a little chilly but you were still moving so it didn’t bother you. 

“It really came together in time.” Will chuckled, knowing how much of a hassle it was to pull everything together. 

“No thanks to you, of course.” You smiled. 

Over Will’s shoulder, you could see JJ and Spencer still talking. They looked so light and fun. You wondered what they were talking about. You couldn’t see JJ’s face but Spencer was looking up at the stars until he wasn’t. Suddenly, he was making eye contact with you. 

You felt your face grow hot as you looked away, Will’s voice calling you back from your thoughts. 

“You should go talk to him. You’ll enjoy his… Quirks.” Will chuckled, continuing to sway with you. 

“Quirks, huh? He’s that bad? Maybe I shouldn’t go for it…” You said, thinking about how your previous experiences with guys with quirks landed you more single than an amoeba. 

“I think you would like him. He knows a lot about… Well everything.” He said as the song came to an end. 

“Well, I’ll see. I want to get more shots of you, JJ and Henry dancing together.” You said, grabbing your camera out of your shoulder bag and taking a few steps back to capture Will smiling. 

Click. Click. 

You checked the images and were satisfied enough to move on… Almost. 

“Can I borrow that?” Will asked, pointing to your camera. 

“For what?” You asked, genuinely curious what he could use it for at his own wedding when he literally paid you to take care of photos. 

“I want to show JJ how I see her, with the help of your camera.” Will said, dreamily as the two of you stared at JJ and Henry dancing together. 

“Okay… I don’t know what I’ll do now, though.” You nervously chuckled. 

It was a little bit deflating to give up your camera. You really wanted a reason to talk to Spencer and you typically used taking pictures of someone as an excuse to actually talk to them. Without your camera, how are you supposed to do that?

“Here, I’ll be your wingman.” Will nudged you before you could realize that Spencer was walking toward the two of you. 

Before you had time to react, Will put the camera up to his face and started taking pictures.

“This is harder than I expected…” Will muttered, watching you smile. 

“What’s hard?” Spencer asked, standing arms length away from you. 

The three of you stood in a triangle, staring at each other for a moment. You felt naked and defenseless against the situation without your camera. Will was trying to understand it before he went over to JJ. 

“You know, the first photo of a person was an accident. So by taking pictures of me, you’re doing more than the first technical portrait photographer was doing, in terms of effort and intention. The art of photography really is a numbers game, if you think about it. Along the x and y-axis, you’re attempting to capture a moment of time on a plane of existence that is completely irrelevant to the numbers related to the…” 

“Spence.” JJ said, seemingly coming out of nowhere. She smiled and shook her head as if the two of them went through that routine normally. 

“Related to the plane of imagery.” You mumbled, knowing you heard that from somewhere but not sure where. 

Will, JJ, and Spencer all heard you finish Spencer’s sentence, although it was natural. 

“You listened to my ted talk.” Spencer said, smiling. 

“That was you?” You asked, meeting Spencer’s eyes. They looked so pretty up close, when the light hit them a certain way. 

“Yes! It was supposed to be a regular lecture but they were trying a new format and wanted to know if I would be willing to do it that way. I didn’t mind but it was hard to…” Spencer trailed off when he looked over at JJ. 

“Will, I think we should let them work out the logistics of...cameras… While you and I hang out with Henry. The night seems to be winding down. I think there’s one song left before Rossi kicks us out.” JJ chuckled. 

Spencer shifted on his feet as JJ, Will, and your camera went to the dance floor, where Henry was talking to Emily. 

“Your name is Spencer, right?” You asked, rocking on the heels of your shoes. 

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” He said, looking at you with a small smile.

“Oh. You’re a doctor…” You said, trying to figure out how old he was. 

“I’m not that old, no. I was accelerated in my learning as a child so I finished everything earlier than expected.” He said, seemingly reading into what you were thinking. 

There was an awkward silence that fell between the two of you. You wanted to fill it so badly but you didn’t want to actually think about what to fill it with. You spent yet another night pining over a boy who wasn’t going to have any interest in you, just like every other wedding you go to. 

“So… How about those stars…” You chuckled. 

“Do you think… Maybe... Would you be interested in dancing with me?” Spencer was stumbling over his words as the last song of the night came on through the speakers. One of your favorite songs…

“Finally.” You breathed out before realizing what you said. “I mean yes, I would love to dance with you.” 

Leading you out to the empty makeshift dance floor, the music played softly in the background as Spencer slipped his hand around your waist. 

“Garcia said you would be someone nice to know.” Spencer said, swaying with you. 

“I beg to differ but I guess I shouldn’t say those things to cute boys.” 

It was different from dancing with Will. Dancing with Will was wasting time, just doing something to do it. Dancing with Spencer had a little purpose. The last song of the night wasn’t even slow but you and Spencer were the last ones on the dancefloor, just swaying in tune with one another. It was relaxing, if not excessively calming. 

“You think I’m cute?” Spencer asked, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“You don’t?” You followed up, genuinely confused at how he didn’t see it. 

“Well the term ‘cute’ cannot be scientifically described although the golden ratio is believed to…” Spencer squinted at something past your head, causing you to turn around. 

Behind the glassdoor of the house was the BAU, watching you and Spencer dance. As soon as they realized you were turning around, they all pretended to be talking to one another. It was a pretty bad attempt. 

“Do they always watch you do stuff like this?” You turned back to Spencer and he solemnly nodded. 

“That’s weird.” You said, glancing over your shoulder again. 

Half of the team was giving Spencer a thumbs up, including JJ. 

“What if we got out of here?” Spencer said, looking down at you. 

“Hmm?” You asked, looking at his eyes. You noticed they were warm and inviting, soft even. 

“You and I could get out of here. Get coffee, maybe?” He smiled slightly. It looked a little forced but that could be because he was nervous. 

“RIght now?” You asked, lifting your arm as he slowly spun you around. 

“RIght now. If that’s okay with you. If not, that’s fine. I get it. It’s like…” Spencer was still going when you cut him off. 

“Let’s get out of here.” You said, “I don’t want the night to end with a last dance like this.”

[thorne93]

Inside The Criminal Mind (Part 21)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 1831

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​​​​​​, @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was several days early, nearly a week. You stopped by Dexter’s work before leaving, giving him a hug, telling him you’d update him as soon as you could. He nodded and thanked you for being a good friend and apprentice. 

You boarded a civilian plane back home. You worked it out with the university to have your last exams proctored by someone else. You grabbed everything you could, packed it in your suitcases, and headed home. Spencer wasn’t expecting you, and he might even be angry but right now, you were being selfish, so you didn’t care if he was ready for you or not.

You texted Emily, asking if they were in town or not. She might’ve wondered why you didn’t just ask Spence, so you prefaced it with it being a surprise and that you and Spence weren’t talking much since you were busy with finals. She informed you everyone was at the office, and expected to wrap up around six. 

To this, you went ahead and headed home. You dropped your suitcases inside the dining room, out of sight, so that when Spence came in, he would see you first. 

You waited for what seemed like centuries. You had no idea how he would react. He might even try to throw you out of the house, which you wouldn’t even know how to respond if he did. 

Finally, a key turned in the lock and he came in. Your heart was all but hammering out of your chest as your palms got clammy. You got up from the couch and walked to stand in the archway between the foyer and the living room. Spence turned, dropping his keys in the bowl, his face forlorn before he caught you out of the corner of his eye. 

He slightly jumped. “Y/N? What are you doing here? I thought you had more classes?” he asked evenly. 

“I do. I… I got another professor to proctor them,” you explained, wanting to close the gap between you two so badly that it hurt.  

Spencer frowned. “So why are you here?” 

“I was… I was having dinner with Dexter, and he said that if you were going to turn me in, that I should use my last days doing what I want, whatever makes me happiest. I thought about it, about what I’d want to want to do with my last days of freedom,” you informed, taking a few steps closer, wringing your hands nervously. You couldn’t help it, wanting to be closer to him. If he didn’t like it, he was going to have to shoot you, because you couldn't stand it any more. “And I want you. I want to be with you. Spend time with you. I don’t care if you have to pretend to like me, swallow your hate for me. I just want you, I want us, again, for a few days. Just before you turn me in. I know you don’t owe me anything but I’d have these days anyway, according to you. And… and that’s what I want from them… time with you,” you told him, a little bit out of breath.

You braced now for his total rejection. That’s all that was logical. Spencer wouldn’t, he couldn’t possibly entertain this idea. But you felt he had to know. 

“I’m not turning you in,” he suddenly started, dropping his bag on the floor casually.

“You’re not?” you asked, stunned. “Why not?” 

He let out a breath and said, “I’ve thought about it… and I understand where you’re coming from.”

Shock, more than joy flooded your system. Sure, you felt relieved, but this was certainly a surprise. 

“You… you do?”

He gestured towards the couch and you followed him.

“When I was in prison and I saw them kill Luis right in front of me… something in me snapped. I think between being falsely accused, watching the violence unfold, and the stress of our job, I just snapped. I wanted revenge. I’d never felt that before, but here was my friend, who got murdered in front of me. It’s like when we wanted revenge on Foyett, or Doyle. I felt that, sure. Morgan did too. That’s why we exhausted everything to find them. But we didn’t plan on killing them. Part of me wanted them gone, with no chance of getting out of prison but I knew that wasn’t right and it would make me the same as them.” 

“So… then why in prison…” 

“I guess because I felt trapped. In there, there is no law. It’s favors, bribes, nepotism. It’s about who knows who. Telling guards wouldn’t have mattered. Telling the team wouldn’t have mattered. It’d be just another prison shanking. But inside, I could do something about it, give Luis some sort of justice. In there, I wasn’t Spencer Reid BAU agent - I was Spencer Reid, wrongly committed felon being targeted. So I turned into something else, and when I listened to the part of me that said Luis deserved justice…. Well I gave it to him the only way I knew how.” 

“That’s… kind of what I’ve been doing with Dex. You wondered why he doesn’t just turn it over to the cops? Well he doesn’t exactly use legal channels. He breaks into homes to find proof, checks their cars, fakes identities, he goes through great lengths to prove their guilt. Things we can’t do on this side of the system. There’s no way we’d ever be granted a warrant for some of the people he’s found. Like, this one guy was a car salesman right, these two brunettes went in trying to buy a car from him. He had their home address, their name, he knew they were single…Dexter discovered that Hicks ran credit checks on the women to get insight into their private lives, finding out if they lived in homes or apartments and if they had any pets, making it easier to identify which women would be easier targets. Hicks covered his tracks by getting the women a deal at another car dealer, thus hiding his own presence in the paper trail.” You bit your lip as you tried to muster the courage to say the next part. “Spence, he went in their homes and brutally raped and murdered them. Cops had no real leads. They had DNA, sure, but this guy wasn’t in the system. Dex went, pretended he was a customer, and there, he met Hicks’ probable next victim. So he struck that night. The guy confessed to it all.”

Spencer sat there nodding. “I don’t doubt that he’s got a solid means of finding and disposing of these people, Y/N. And you’ve explained he’s just… built this way.”

“Yeah, without the code his cop father gave him, he’d be another one of our unsubs.”

“Y/N, he is one of our other unsubs,” he stressed as a reminder. “But what I want to know is… what about you? Is this just how you are or is this just the job getting to you or… where does this newfound compulsion come from?”

“Well, it’s not a compulsion. I could stop, if I wanted to,” you explained. “I just… feel good knowing that ultimately we are saving lives. Like I said, we can’t get all of these people over to the cops and even if we did, most would just bail out of jail until their trial and possibly kill again. I honestly feel like I am just doing my job without all the red tape and chance for them to do it again.”

He sat across from you, pressing his lips together. 

“I know, I sound like every delusional unsub we’ve ever had. That I have a cause and mine’s worthy, but if you say you could go to a darker part of yourself when you were in prison, feeling like your back is against the wall, then I feel like I’m doing the same thing. My back is against the wall with my hands tied out here, waiting on warrants, hoping juries find them guilty, and so… this is what I turned to. Vigilante justice.” 

“And I understand that. I thought about it and I can’t… I can’t really judge you when I did the same thing.” 

A long awkward pause filled the air before you finally spoke, the waiting killing you.

“So… what do we do now?” you asked, holding your breath. 

“Seeing as I attempted murder in jail, and you did it out here… I think we’re even.” 

“And Dex?”

“He’s free to live in Miami. We all will just forget the whole thing and go back to our lives. You give up everything you know, everything he taught you, and he can go back to his life down there.” 

You eyed him up and down. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. I can’t say I blame you. Since prison and Cat, and the whole Ben’s Believers and getting abducted… I can’t say homicide hasn’t crossed my mind a time or two.” 

You bobbed your head. “Right… And what about us? Are we going to go back to normal? Do I need to sleep in the guest room for a while?” 

“I have… no idea. I look at you and see my wife, then I remember what you did… and how you lied to me about it for months…” 

All you could do was nod, biting your lip as you kept the tears back. 

“I know, that was the worst part.” 

“Lying to me?”

You raised your head to face him properly. “Yeah. I know, it sounds fucked up and twisted. I was killing people. But honestly, coming home to you, seeing you, and lying about what I was doing, who I was… It was horrible. Regardless of what I did, what I am, I do love you. I’d take a bullet for you. I still miss your smile, I still love your laugh, I still pray for you to tell me random facts. Whether you believe me or not, I am very much in love with you.”

He smiled slightly. “I believe you.” 

You chewed your lip before adding. “Even if you turned me in, I wouldn’t fault you or hate you. I’d love you all the same.” 

He merely nodded his head a few times. “I know.”

A faint smile ghosted your lips. “Well… you’ve had a long day at work. I’ll, uh, I’ll let you get ready for bed and I’ll go put my things up in the guest room.” 

He nodded and you two went your separate ways for the most part. You put the items in your suitcase up while Spencer readied himself for bed. 

It wasn’t ideal. And his coolness towards you stung to your core.

But at least you weren’t going to prison or getting a divorce. So, all in all, this was the best case scenario.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[dontshootmespence]

One Day I’ll Find My Love

A/N: A request for a Spencer x Reader AU inspired by Some Day My Prince Will Come from Snow White. The song is Snow White (lyrics are out of order), but the plot be taking bits and pieces from a few Disney movies. :D @coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @rmmalta @lukeassmanalvez @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @hogwarts-konoha @remember-me-forever-silent-angel

                                                              ----

Though he's far away I'll find my love some day

The day was closing in. The day when the prince or princess was supposed to marry, in love or not, for the sake of your kingdom. Your parents had an arranged marriage, and they had come to love each other over their decades together, but you were almost 18, and it was time for your parents to step down as the rulers of the land. 

After much yelling and crying, you told your parents that without fail, you would either find a man you loved and marry him, or upon your 18th birthday, you would rule the kingdom alone until the day came when your knight in shining armor came to be. 

With their acceptance that they couldn’t make their only darling daughter do anything she didn’t want to, they extended an opportunity. Let them throw a ball and invite every eligible bachelor in the kingdom. If you found a man you loved, you would marry him, and if not, they would throw the same ball every year on your birthday until you found a man worthy of you. To that you agreed. 

Some day my prince will come Some day I'll find my love And how thrilling that moment will be When the prince of my dreams comes to me

That was nearly two years ago. 

Although the kingdom had never had a sole queen before, they become used to your fair and just rule rather quickly. When asked why you didn’t have a king, you replied, “Because my King must earn my love. I haven’t found a man worthy just yet.”

But again, it was closing in on your birthday. This year was the year you left childhood behind entirely at almost 20 years old. The ball was approaching. The previous two years were fun; you’d danced with eligible bachelor after eligible bachelor, but no one had struck your fancy, seeing only a queen, instead of a woman, but again, you would allow yourself to have fun and remain open to meeting the man you’d call your king.

                                                             ----

The first year the ball had been thrown, Spencer had desperately wanted to go, but his mother was ill, and he hadn’t had the heart to leave her. He’d heard that the King and Queen were throwing a ball for their only daughter in the hopes that she’d find a man to marry. 

For years, Spencer had heard of the princess’s beauty, as well as her kindness, generosity, wit and spirit. He’d wanted to meet this ethereal beauty more than anything, but for two years, the opportunity had eluded him. 

Spencer didn’t have much, but he did have his mind. His mind is what had secured him a job in town managing the baker’s finances. It paid well and kept himself and his mother in a well-enough state. They weren’t well off by any means, but they managed, and finally, Spencer had enough money saved up to hire someone to take care of his mother for the night. 

His suit wasn’t much; it was secondhand, but it would have to do, for he had nothing else. “Mother, are you going to be okay if I go to meet the queen?”

“Of course, my dear. Go dazzle her with that brilliant mind and beautiful face!”

His mother was always hopeful. He didn’t have any hopes to actually meet her in person, but if he could just gaze upon Queen Y/N, he would count himself lucky, so he left the house and began to walk, until a whisper from the woods across from his small house on the hill caught his attention.

At first, it sounded like a cry, so he put aside his desire to meet the queen to check if whoever it was, human or animal, was okay. “Hello?” He called out. “Are you okay?”

“Oh! There you are!” Spencer spun around to see a woman in a bright pink ball gown, a wand in her hand, and glasses upon her shining face. “You are going to the ball, yes?”

“Yes...” Spencer said hesitatingly. Who could this possibly be? 

The woman approached him and guided her hands down his sleeves. They were slightly ratty. “This is no way to meet the queen!” Frozen in place, Spencer watched as the woman gracefully floated around him. 

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he said. “But who are you?”

Bringing her hand to her chest, she feigned hurt. “Why, I am your Fairy Godmother. My name is Penelope.” 

“My Fairy Godmother?” He had to be imagining things. “What?”

Still circling him, she began to explain herself. She’d been near him since he was a child, helping him along, giving him strength to take care of his mother when he felt close to failing. “My job is to keep you happy and safe, and if you’ll let me, I’d like to give you an outfit and transportation worthy of the beautiful Queen Y/N.”

“Okay...” His brows were still frozen in confusion. 

With a swish of her wand, his clothes dissolved into something else, a very deep navy blue tuxedo, shiny black shoes, and black bowtie. His Fairy Godmother provided a mirror out of nowhere; he actually looked pretty good. Probably the best he’d looked in his entire life.

Another swish of her wand brought a beautiful, golden, horse drawn carriage beside him. “Now, these things I have bestowed upon you will vanish at the last stroke of midnight, so be sure to be home by then.”

“Thank you,” He said with a smile. “I can’t thank you enough.” He actually felt worthy to be in the Queen’s presence now - at least physically.

“Your enjoyment will be thanks enough.”

                                                            ----

As you looked in the mirror, you marveled at how the castle seamstresses had outdone themselves this year. Your dress was a beautiful deep red. It had a heart-shaped neckline with long, red, sheer sleeves, tastefully bedazzled in shimmering jewels. The jewels gathered in quantity around your bust and waistline and then dissipated once again as the ball gown flowed to the floor. Reaching into a drawer on your nightstand, you handed the three seamstresses a bonus. They tried to deny it. “Please. By the Queen’s orders. You have truly outdone yourselves. You deserve a little extra.” Now, you were ready.

This year’s ball took a little longer to get off the ground. Man after man arrived. This year, you decided to wait until the last man arrived until you started dancing. It was nearly 10 o’clock when the last man entered - someone who had not attended the previous years’ balls. His name was Spencer Reid and he was from a small town on the countryside.

And I'll know him the moment we meet For my heart will start skipping a beat

Something about the way his locks fell around his shoulders, his slight smile, and the eyes that were filled with stars made your heart quicken. Maybe this was it. Was this the man you’d been waiting for? It sure felt like it. After he was announced, you made your way down the stairs and approached him, giving him a curtsy. “Hello, I am Queen Y/N.”

“I know,” he stammered. He bowed clumsily. Obviously, he was not used to palace life, but his confusion and amazement at everything around him was rather endearing. “It’s such an honor to meet you.” He started to stammer when he realized the attention had turned to the two of you. “I only thought I’d be able to see you, but now that I’m here, I feel like I’ll regret it if I don’t ask for a dance?”

As you stared at the sparkle in his eyes, you extended your hand. “I’d be honored, Spencer Reid.” The music began to pick up at your instruction. Spencer didn’t have any training in dance - that you were sure of - but he was holding himself rather well. “May I ask why you haven’t been to the previous years balls? I know you haven’t because I would’ve remembered a face like yours.”

Spencer blushed. “My mother is very ill. This was the first year I had any money to make sure she was well taken care of in my absence.”

As you danced piece after piece together, you gravitated toward each other, your bodies closer and more in sync than when you started. The way you spoke to each other was effortless, but soon you had to excuse yourself to dance with a few other bachelors, as it was expected. “Will you stay for a few moments? Meet me in the garden?”

Again, he blushed, leaving you to do your royal duties while he wandered around the gardens outside. Lush green plants were only outshone by the stars in the sky and the flowers below, all white and blooming to perfection, as if they’d been placed there specifically for this occasion. Maybe they had been. It seemed like the time had flown because by the time he found a swing, your deep red dress came into view. “Hello again, Spencer. I’m sorry I took so long.”

He motioned toward the swing and when you sat down you gown sparkled in the moonlight. Slight pushes sent your gown flowing and the ease of your conversation had you leaning back until suddenly, you had stopped against him. When you looked up, Spencer leaned down.

He'll whisper, I love you And steal a kiss or two

Under the shimmering stars, he kissed you. His lips were soft and skin heated. You reached up and pulled him down for another kiss. 

Ring.

The clock struck midnight. Where had the time gone? Spencer pulled away quickly. “I’m very sorry. I have to go,” he stammered. “This has been the best night of my life.”

Ring.

The speed with which he ran took you off guard, but you weren’t about to let him get away. Something in your heart said this was your love and you were not about to let him go, so you kicked off your heels, left them in the garden, and grabbed the excess material of your dress so you could run after him.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

For a man who seemed so unsure on his feet earlier, he was remarkably fast. Over and over agin, you called after him, willing him to stop. Why was he running from you?

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

“Spencer! Please wait!” You had both run through the gardens, the side of the palace, past where the ball was still taking place, and down the stairs. It had been wise to kick off your shoes, for it allowed you to run with ease, letting the material of your dress float behind you. His carriage was just a few feet away.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

It was the stroke of midnight - and he was still here. Spencer began to panic that he had run out of time when you grabbed his arm and spun him around. “Spencer, why are you running?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But none of this is real.” As he spoke, his suit turned once again to what he’d originally worn from his house and the carriage and its horses dissolved into nothingness. “This isn’t real. I’m no royal. I’m not meant for you.”

A huff of laughter escaped you as the tears gathered in his eyes. “Spencer, I knew you weren’t a royal when we met. That doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“It doesn’t?” A tear fell from his eye and you wiped it away with the pad of your thumb. 

None of that had ever mattered to you. “Not at all. You’re sweet. You treat me like a woman instead of a Queen. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I don’t want you to go. Will you stay?”

“But only the king is allowed to stay with the Queen. And my mother needs me. I have to go home.” There was nothing he wanted more than to stay here, but his mother did need him. 

Immediately, you called a carriage of your own. “If you will do me the honor of being my King, I will send these good men back to your home to escort your mother here. She can live here. We have plenty of people to take care of her and keep her comfortable for as long as she lives.”

“You want me to be the king? I have no idea how to be King.”

“I’ll teach you,” you smiled. “Will you do me the honor of being my King?”

Under the stars, he pulled you toward him again, subconsciously swaying as the breeze ruffled your dress, “Yes,” he swallowed hard. “I will.”

                                                           ----

Some day when my dreams come true Some day I'll find my love Someone to call my own

A fortnight after Queen Y/N had chosen her King-to-Be, she and Spencer were wed, under the loving eyes of her mother and father, his mother and her new caretakers, and the entirety of the kingdom. 

At the beginning of her rule, she’d known not what she’d been doing either, but she had learned, and with her by his side, so would he.

[writingismyhappytime]

Kiss Me

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut

A/N: So, I’ve never watched Criminal Minds, so please forgive me if there’s something a little off.

Spencer's lips are tentative on yours, almost nervous, and his hands barely graze your hips. You sigh almost in disappointment as you lean back from him, gazing up into those hazel eyes.

"You don't have to be afraid, Spence," you say after a moment, your hands carefully rising to rest against his shoulders. "I don't bite unless you want me too."

Spencer flushes, embarrassed, but you just give him that warm smile of yours that he's come to crave. You're kind to him, you've sort of doted on him since the moment you started working near him. Sure, you're just a tech, but you're lively, protective of the little sister you have to take care of, and he admires you for your strength.

He knew about your sister because you have pictures on your desk, but he didn't realize she was disabled, that she had a mental illness. You're taking care of her to the best of your ability, going through the same things he had too with his mother. You never complain, you talk about her fondly, and he wishes he could have that relationship with his schizophrenic mother; he loves her so much, but it's so hard.

The two of you had bonded during lunch one day when you'd brazenly sat down at the same table as him, and he'd stared at you like you were some kind of ogre. You'd chattered while you sat with him, not seeming to mind that he barely offered any sort of response, used to it from being at home. You did it a few times before he opened up a little, relaxed around you and sort of become friends.

Of course, the two of you are in his apartment, where you'd sort of invited yourself over. Your sister had after school care classes, so that usually gives you the breaks you need every now and then. Really, you want to put yours to good use, if Spencer would stop being such a prude.

This is, admittedly, the first time the two of you have kissed, and that's because you took the initiative. You like him, you really do. He's smart, and so cute when he goes rambling off on one of those subjects you can't begin to understand. You like his messy hair, when he runs his fingers through it until it's sticking in every direction. It cracks you up to see how he can go into thirteen minute long speels of complete bullshit just to mess with his fellow agents, and you've sat and watched him as he worked, how much he loves to read.

He's adorable.

Of course, you're not exactly sure if he's attracted to you, though. You might have befriended him, but you're much more outgoing and brazen than he is, and you tend to go after what you want instead of waiting. You've tried to be more patient with Spencer, seeing if he'll make the first move, but all he does is blush when he looks at you and hastily avert his eyes with some nonsensical murmur.

So, you must take the first step.

It had started off well, you showing up at his place, carrying takeout and a bottle of wine that was more for your sake then his. You'd plopped down on his comfy sofa, chatting amicably about different subjects like you have a few times before. It had only been afterwards when you'd seen your opportunity, when you'd literally sort of thrown yourself into his arms for a kiss since he was on the verge of running away.

"I, I um," Spencer doesn't know what to say, he just looks down at you. You smell wonderful, whatever perfume you use completely addicting. He finds he likes it when you hug him, you leave that scent behind on his clothing. He finds it strange, how he can't stand shaking hands with someone, but he doesn't mind you touching him, or your spontaneous hugs. He much more likes listening to you giggle, your conspiratory whispers when the two of you are having lunch, as if you have some big secret between the two of you.

You chuckle, lacing your fingers behind his neck, watching his dark hair fall into his eyes.

"Don't you want to kiss me?" You ask after a moment, finally growing the smallest bit uncertain. "Spencer?"

"I --- yes, of course I do. You're an attractive female, I find you very physically pleasing, and of course I want to kiss you ---," you almost roll your eyes as he starts to go on a nervous ramble, his lips moving and spewing unnecessary words. You sigh, then lift on your toes, stopping his rant with the smooth press of your lips against his own.

His grip flexes around your waist as you lean into him, threading your fingers through his long locks of hair, making sure his lips are unable to leave your own. He's so tense beneath your touch, as it suddenly occurs to you that... has he ever kissed anyone before?

Oh lord.

Are you going to have to teach him a few things?

If anything, there's a certain appeal to the fact he hasn't, that he's so... innocent.

You deepen the kiss, letting your teeth lightly tug on his lower lip. It's sort of cute, how he's only touching your waist, as if he's afraid to push the bounds of your hips. You almost chuckle as your hands drawn down his slim chest, feeling him shiver as your hands close over his, dragging them lower until they're resting on your ass. He inhales sharply when you leave them there, you think making it quite clear you intend to educate this genius tonight.

You have to admit, you're disappointed when he pulls back from you, his entire face crimson as he actually takes a step back, jerking his hands off of you like you've scalded him. You frown at him, hoping he didn't see the hurt in your eyes as you cross your arms.

Did he not like you then?

"Do you not like me?" You ask after a moment, refusing to break eye contact with him. "I mean, in that way?"

You're going to be sort of embarrassed if he doesn't.

Spencer blinks, and his hand rises to brush through his hair, one of those little nervous gestures of his.

"I find you very appealing, as does sixty-seven percent of the other males of the office, and thirty percent of the women." He adds, almost as an after thought that makes you quirk a brow.

"How do you know that?"

"I've watched. I notice the way most of our colleagues look at you when you walk through. It's not hard to calculate once you consider how many people work in the BAU, and all those that you come in contact with ---."

"Spencer, I don't care." You groan, your hands going to your hips. "I just want to know if you like me or not, or if I'm making a big idiot out of myself."

"Oh. Well, I ---," again, he hesitates, his cheeks flushing that deep red before he looks down. "I do... like you, that is."

"Then why don't you want to kiss me back?" You don't understand; physical attraction is rather easy, isn't it? It's obvious. "Is it because I'm the first you've ever kissed, or ---?"

Normally, a guy would be immediately insulted at such a comment, hastily deny it, but Spencer definitely isn't like most men, and that's what you like. He's sweet, and cute, and he doesn't immediately seem to be turned off by the fact you have a sister you have to take care of, he actually seems to understand.

That's what makes all the difference; sure, he's not exactly the normal type of guy you go for, you like the rough around the edges, kind of thick armed guys who don't take any shit; of course, that's what also gets you in trouble and has you a juvenile record, so; Spencer is actually a good choice for you, or so you thought.

Spencer blinks. "Is it that obvious?"

Well.

"I just... you're not much of a people person, I dunno," you rub the back of your neck, starting to feel awkward. "I kind of just assumed."

"Oh."

Oh? Is that it?

Hell, you've never had a guy stop kissing you before! Usually you don't kiss anyone until they've taken you on a date and you've decided they're shag worthy, you're taking a completely different approach with Spencer.

You really like him.

"So kiss me then." You challenge him, taking a step forward that causes him to take one back, the back of his legs hitting his coffee table. "Kiss me, Spencer Reid, or so help me I'm going to jump you on that table in the next five seconds."

You can't help but grin as he gapes at you, taken back by your words; he doesn't run for the hills, though, so you figure that's probably a good sign. You take another step forward, your fingers splaying against his chest as you look up at him, determined suddenly.

"Kiss me, Spencer," you murmur, feeling his tentative fingers close around your shoulders. "Please."

Spencer actually sighs, and you're pleased as he leans down, his lips just the barest brush over yours. You immediately respond, your arms rising to close around his neck as you arch your chest into his. Okay, so you should take it slow so you don't scare him, but you can't help yourself.

At first, it almost seemed as if Spencer really doesn't want to kiss you. He stands so stiffly, his lips unyielding, but you can feel him softening. You can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, so you know he's nervous, but he has no reason to be.

"It's alright," you murmur, your eyes opening slightly. "Relax. Let me teach you something for once."

He almost smiles as your hands close around his, dragging him over to the sofa. You sit him down, and despite the fact you'd normally crawl into his lap, you make yourself sit beside him. Your hand curves around the nape of his neck as you drag his lips back to yours, finding he's much more responsive this time.

Progress!

You lean into him, your tongue tracing his lower lip. After a moment he opens his mouth, and you don't waste the opportunity, your fingers tracing his jawline as you teach the handsome genius what he's been missing out on. It's sort of sweet, really, how careful and precise he is with each movement of his tongue, growing more curious than nervous --- or at least that's what you hope.

You let your hand coast down to his knee, letting it rest there as you tilt your head and make it easier to kiss. He sighs against your lips, his hand rising to cup your jaw, shifting as he pushes you a little farther back into the soft sofa cushions. You trail your fingers up his leg slightly, tracing small circles along his thigh, snorting slightly as you realize how comical the situation must be; you're quite literally seducing Spencer Reid.

"What is it?" he murmurs, reluctantly lifting his lips from yours, but you only shake your head, not wanting to share the thought. He gazes at you curiously, his eyes running down your flushed cheeks to the swell of your breasts, visible thanks to the low cut of your shirt. Your black jacket is tossed on his coat rack, your shoes kicked off by the end of his sofa. You make yourself comfortable wherever you go, and he only wishes he could be more like you.

He holds his breath as he feels your hand slip a little higher up his thigh, wondering what exactly you want from him. He has baggage, both with his mother and his own worry about his genes. You're pretty, you're normal, and you could be sitting on a sofa with any type of guy you could want --- why are you here with him?

He's not used to people touching him, but it's always been different with you. He's grown accustomed to the warm hugs and linked arms as you walk down the hallway, the way you ramble on about some case or listen to his explanations until your eyes hit tilt. You're never rude to him, sometimes he thinks you enjoy listening to him unlike everyone else. You'd once told him that you thought he was interesting, before winking at him and sauntering off out the door.

Garcia and Morgan usually tease him mercifully when they see him with you, making the comments about what a cute couple the two of you make, etc., until Reid is hastily trying to change the subject. It makes him uncomfortable, because he never truly thought you felt anything for him.

Spencer swallows hard as he feels your warm palm inch up his thigh even more, very aware of his growing response to your light touch. He clears his throat nervously, but you apparently don't want to discuss anything else --- honestly, Spencer is a bit intimidated by you, the experienced way your mouth moves against his, the scent of you drawing him in. He knows he won't be able to do anything right, that he can't make you feel good, but he can't seem to be able to speak, to tell you not to touch him, so kiss him so deeply and without reservation.

He relaxes, letting you take the lead, his hand carefully moving to your hip, a little lower this time. You push lightly at his shoulders, just enough to urge him to lie back against the sofa, giving you the control that you're seeking; you're going to make this a night that Mr. Reid never forgets.

Spencer closes his eyes, returning your kiss, his hands staying on your waist as you boldly straddle him; you've never had a guy shove you off of them, so you're hoping he doesn't mind. You've also never been with a guy who wasn't experienced, so you hope you're doing this at a speed he's comfortable with.

Spencer groans softly as he feels your weight settle over him, your hips aligning perfectly with his. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, flushing at the rather heated sound --- well, at least you know he's enjoying himself.

He's warm, and soft, and you like the scent of him, of laundry detergent and just male. You slowly rake your darkly painted nails down the front of his blue t shirt, applying just enough pressure to make sure he feels it.

You begin to trail your lips down his throat to his jawline, his hands flexing on your hips. Your hand reaches to his, urging him to touch you, to move along your thighs to your waist. You slightly roll your hips down against the pressure you can feel from his jeans, his fingers tightening fractionally.

He groans softly as your hips shift, your lips still on his neck and making it hard for him to hold still. His eyes are still closed, enjoying the feel of you on top of him, and he can only imagine how soft your skin must feel beneath your clothing, how it would feel against his own. You nip just the slightest at his jaw as his hands creep beneath the hem of your loose shirt, cupping the bare skin of your waist.

You do your best not to smirk as you lean up, your eyes finding his as you draw your shirt completely over your head, tossing it behind the sofa and not caring where it landed. His eyes widened as they lit on the swell of your breasts, hidden only from his touch by the soft material of your black bra. He blushes, his eyes fixated on your chest for a few moments before he looks up at you, as if asking for permission to touch you.

Oh, what are you going to do with this precious man?

"Your turn," you whisper, tugging his shirt up his stomach, his arms lifting as he lets you drag it off of him. You're honestly just waiting for the moment when he tells you no, shuts down your slow seduction, and you're trying to fight the disappointment of just the thought. You do want him, you want a night with him, although you've never been anyone's first before, you find it sort of flattering.

He has to like you, right? Surely other women have been interested, did he just shut them down or did they not try hard enough to get to know him? Either way, it doesn't matter, because you're here now and you fully intend to take care of him, consequences be damned.

"Touch me," you murmur, knowing exactly what you're doing as you shift your hips against his lap. He doesn't hesitate this time, his hands going to your hips, drawing up you sides until they curve around your back. You don't say anything, just shirk out of your bra when you feel it open, letting it fall away.

His eyes flick to your breasts, his gaze darkening. He slowly slides his palms up your naked stomach, cupping your breasts and giving them a firm squeeze. You're not embarrassed of how you look, despite your skin isn't always blemish free and you have stretch marks, but the way he's looking at you, you know he doesn't care.

Your hands close over his, showing him how to use them, what you like. He flushes, but he's always been a quick learner. You give his lips a quick kiss, loving the feel of his hands on you, the friction as they touch your breasts on their own.

Your hips shift down against his again, much firmer then before as your stomach tightens just slightly. You can feel his hardness pressing up into your jeans, and you suddenly wish you'd dressed a little differently --- of course you hadn't come here with the thought of sleeping with him, either.

Spencer's skin flushes as he looks up at you, his hands on your body, biting back another groan as your hips grind down into his. You breasts are so firm and soft, pushing eagerly into his grasp. You're so beautiful, he's always thought so, and admittedly he had thought about you this way before, he'd just never thought it would happen.

His mind flashes to all the things he'd wished he could do with you, and suddenly he realizes that he can . So why is he hesitating? He might be inexperienced, but he's not an idiot, he's read all the textbooks and seen some movies, so he sort of knows what he's supposed to be doing.

His eyes flick up to yours as he slips one hand to your waist, tugging so that you're leaning over him again. You hold your breath in surprise as he brings his mouth up, slowly running his tongue across your nipple. His other hand is still cupping and squeezing, and honestly you're off guard by the fact he's finally taking some initiative --- and it feels good.

He seals his lips around your breast, tugging it into his mouth and giving it a slow, firm suck. He swirls his tongue, lavishing it in the attention it right deserves before boldly moving on to the second, hearing your breathing increase, your hips squirm wonderfully against his own. Your fingers press against his shoulders, flexing against his pale skin as you moan softly, already a heat pooling in your stomach and heading directly between your thighs.

You tighten your thighs around his, liking that he's becoming more relaxed, not afraid to touch you anymore. He's more comfortable, less tense, and hot damn are you starting to enjoy yourself.

"Spencer," you sigh, letting your eyes close at the feeling. His lips are working their way up your chest, finally sealing around your throat as he slightly pushes himself up, bracing back on one hand. His other roves down your back, hesitating only a moment before he cups your ass and causes you to moan again, arching your chest into his as he nibbles along your throat. "Mmm, keep doing that."

Spencer sucks hard on your neck, just as you did his, your body arching and grinding into his as you moan softly in his ear, urging him on. You're working and rolling your hips until he's finding it increasingly hard to concentrate, all the blood from his intelligent brain draining somewhere else. He squeezes your ass again, liking how it feels in his palm, your jeans abruptly becoming an obstacle.

You're suddenly impatient to have him.

You pull away from him only enough to reach between the two of you, pulling on the belt of his jeans and fumbling it open. You feather his jaw in kisses, nipping at his ear and huskily telling him exactly what you wish you could do to him, in all sorts of ways, for the rest of the night.

He actually swallows.

You chuckle breathlessly, finally managing to open his jeans. You only crawl off him long enough to reach for yours, popping open the button and shimmying them down your curvy hips until they pool at your feet. You glance back at Spencer, seeing he's just watching you, a hungry, almost lost look on his face.

"Off with your pants," you order, planting your hands on your hips. He immediately scrambles, and he's never had them off so fast in his life, kicking them desperately off into the floor until you're giggling, unable to help yourself.

He flushes, shifting until he's sitting at the edge of the sofa, giving you the perfect opportunity. You step forward swiftly, only to sink to your knees in front of him, seeing his surprise. You give his lips a chaste kiss as your fingers slip up his thighs, curving around the tight hem of his boxers and jerking them down; you feel him tense slightly as you remove the last of his clothing, his cock springing upward in freedom.

Well, well, well, what have we here? Mr. Reid has seriously been hiding some impressive equipment.

You curl your hand around his hard length, lightly stroking your hand up and down. You trail playful kisses along his chest, able to feel the hard thundering of his heart against your lips.

"Feel good?" you murmur, seeing him lean back, fingers flexing around the edge of the cushions.

At first, he'd been nervous to let you see him completely naked, but that worry is completely gone now. He just nods his head, not trusting his voice.

You don't hold too firmly, not wanting the touch to move your fun along too quickly. You give just enough pressure to make him groan, to shift and squirm and make him really want you. Honestly, just watching the pleasured look on his face makes you feel hot, your skin tingling as you lick your lips. You hope this isn't going to be a mistake in the long run, but you don't think it will be.

He doesn't have a bad bone in his body.

"(Y/N)," Spencer finally breathes, and you shiver at the husky word as it leaves his lips. You straighten, leaning forward to kiss him deeply, his hands immediately rising to grasp your hips. He kisses you back hotly, using his tongue and all the tricks you showed him, fingers trailing down to the pink lace of your panties. He isn't shy as his thumbs hook in the hem, drawing them down your body.

Okay, that was hot as fuck.

You groan against his lips, releasing your grip on his throbbing cock impatiently. Your hands press against his shoulders, keeping him held back as you crawl over him, kissing him hard and hungrily.

He can feel your heat, hovering above his cock, and the roaring in his ears is making sure to block out what little sense he might have. His hands slide down to your bare ass, moaning as he finally gets a handful of your skin. Your breasts are pushing into his chest, your thighs tight around his, and he's suddenly very glad that you came over.

Maybe another night, you'll teach him some more things, you have intentions of it if this isn't the only time. You want to make sure he feels good, that his first time, even if it lasts under five minutes, isn't something that he regrets. Sure, you've never been shy about the fact you like sex, at least not since you were seventeen; Spencer has a lot of catching up to do.

Your palms cup his neck as you kiss, slowly lowering yourself just enough where your heat teases the head of his rigid cock, his moan loud and shameless against your lips. His fingers flex, drawing down to cup your thighs, stroking and caressing your skin instinctively. You reach down between the two of you, carefully grasping his cock as you rub yourself tauntingly back and forth; you've a clean bill of health, you're on two different forms of birth control, and though you usually wouldn't make excuses for not using a condom, it's obvious Spencer has never been with anyone else, so it shouldn't be a problem.

At least, just this once.

Spencer's breath shudders out against your skin, his lust-filled eyes finally opening. Your body is a wonderland, soft and pliable, warm against his hands. He wants to be inside of you, feel you around him, your lips on his --- he's suddenly never felt such an intense need for someone else in his entire life.

Your hips finally stop shifting, and your eyes find his, the hazel orbs nearly black with desire. You let go of him as you slowly sink down, biting your lip as his cock presses against your tight opening. Spencer exhales heavily as he enters you, eyes riveted on yours as your heat envelopes him all the way to the base.

"Breathe, Spence," you chuckle in his ear, your hands resting on his shoulders, letting your body adjust; you're wet, so that made his entrance easier, but next time you're going to make sure there's a lot more foreplay. You kiss and nibble along his jaw, hearing his ragged breathing in your hair as you carefully begin to move your hips, feeling his fingers go painfully tight on your thighs as he tenses beneath you.

He groans at the feel of you, the way your body is hugging his throbbing shaft, your heat. He never imagined that it felt like this, so heavenly. The friction between your bodies makes him feel like his skin is on fire, and all he can do is hold onto you as you move your hips, kissing and nipping at his throat until you're sure there's going to be a mark there in the morning.

You almost chuckle as you expertly roll your hips, making sure each movement is slow. It's the look on his face, the surprise and then pleasure, that really makes the moment worthwhile. You grin proudly, catching his swollen lips in a deep kiss, his arms rising to clamp around your hips, urging you to move a little faster.

You groan as you start to move a little more, his thick cock reaching all the right places inside of you as you rise and fall, your breasts heaving.  You don't mind doing all the work in this position, there's some satisfaction in knowing that he's helpless beneath you, that all he can do is shudder and flex his fingers on your body as you bring him pleasure.

You're so tight and wet, squeezing him, and Spencer eagerly drinks in the warmth of you, one hand rising to cup and squeeze your breast the way you'd showed him, the way he knows you like. Your hands tighten on his shoulders, feeling a spark in your lower half, moaning as he tightens his grip around your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh enough to bruise --- you don't mind at all.

"You feel... so good," Spencer finally manages, finding his voice for the first time in a while as you fuck him on his sofa. You're so beautiful, your skin gleaming as you move, your hair clinging to your cheek as you show him a world he hadn't realized he was missing out on. He shudders, leaning forward to catch your nipple between his teeth, and the next sound you make at the tug makes his hips jerk upward, his skin igniting.

Jesus! You squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure as Spencer thrusts upward just as you come down, causing you to shudder as he hits just the right spot. Honestly you hadn't expected you'd get to cum tonight, but if he keeps that up you'll be in for a nice surprise! Your fingers curl tightly into his brown hair, holding his mouth against your breast as you ride him, grinding and thrusting down onto his cock until that heat in the pit of your stomach is threatening to become more.

How the hell has he not cum yet!?

You're surprised he, having never been inside a woman before, didn't lose control in the first two minutes! That's usually what happens for a male virgin, isn't it?

Oh, how he keeps managing to surprise you!

  You groan, shuddering in his arms as you tug on his hair, bringing his face back so you can kiss him passionately. This time, Spencer fights you for the control of it, his hands lowering to your hips and moving them; oh, why is it so hot that he's suddenly doing that?

Your breaths are both labored as your lips part, and you tilt your head back in pleasure, letting him drive your hips down his cock, squeezing him when you get to his base and making him groan shamelessly, his eyes on your body. He pulls your body until it's up against his, your nipples grazing his chest as you ride him, cursing loudly at the new angle.

Spencer almost falters, suddenly worried he's hurting you, but the way your lips catch his, the way you're suddenly moaning so loud his neighbors are sure to hear --- you're definitely not in pain. His thick shaft is nailing your most sensitive spot, and the spark in your stomach is starting to grow out of control, spiraling through your veins and making you that much wetter. Your lower half throbs around him, and really you're just --- you can't believe this.

You press your forehead against Spencer's, shuddering. It's so natural, the way your bodies entwine and move together, like you've done this before. He's a quick learner, and it's as if he already knows what he's doing now, moving so deeply inside of you, whispering soft, sweet words in your ear that you know he means, that causes your stomach to clench.

You curl your arms around him, his hands roving your bare back, and he captures your lips quickly, craving the feel of them on his. You're enjoying yourself, so he's not as nervous now, not as shy. He must be doing something right, because the way you're moaning it can't mean anything else!

His fingers tangle in the back of your hair, holding your lips to his, wanting that intimate touch between the two of you. Does sex get any better than this? It feels like that should be impossible, that the feel of your damp body against his can't be rivaled.

His cock throbs inside of you, and brazenly you grab his hand, drawing it down between your bodies to the swollen bud waiting for him.

"Touch me, right here," you breathe, knowing it's not going to take much to push you over the edge. He does as told, his fingers cautiously caressing your clit, feeling you shudder on top of him and suddenly moan loudly, throwing your head back as you grind down onto his hand. He sucks in a tight breath as you squeeze his cock, sinking down to his base and letting your forehead fall against his shoulder.

Hmm.

He continues to rub and pinch until you're panting, your thighs clenching around his hips. Your desire is coating his fingers, but he doesn't care, his lips parting at the thought of tasting you.

"Don't stop," you whimper in his ear, your muscles contracting impossibly tighter a you tense, your orgasm suddenly impending. Your body is coiled tight, and all you can do is cling to him as it sweeps over you, your release forceful and overwhelming as you inadvertently cry out his name. He groans at the breathless word, holding onto you tightly as you cum around him.

Your head spins, and your skin tingles as you feel yourself start to come down, inanely pleased. Your body shudders, and your lower half throbs as you feel Spencer still inside of you, his hands clamped tightly around your hips as he groans, his head falling back against the sofa as he finds his own release.

You sigh at the deep rumble of his chest, and you snuggle into him as you feel him cum inside of you, that heat; you don't normally let men get away with that, but in Spencer's case...

He goes limp beneath you, his damp hair clinging to his forehead as his hands rest on your waist. You give it a few minutes, enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of you, your body not ready to move. You like that he's holding you, that he's kissing your shoulder and asking if you're alright.

"I'm perfect," you murmur, kissing his cheek. "And you, Spencer Reid, are no longer a virgin."

You grin at the blush on his cheeks.

[maealbert]

Back To Life

AU Characters: Spencer Reid x OC (Kinsley)

A/N: Thanks again to Pinterest for the prompt. It’s going to be a sad but also happy one, so fair warning. I do apologize for all the Reiders that just want happiness for the boy wonder. But this just fits perfectly for him. I thought about doing it for Rossi but Spencer was just nagging at me and I couldn’t ignore it.

Summary:

Master List

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon in mid-July. A slight breeze blowing through the window. There he sat in front of the window. An easel propped up in front of him with various paint colors resting on a stool beside it. Looking down at the paint brush in his hand he studied it carefully. The paint shop owner that he had bought it from claimed it would make anything he painted come to life. Spencer thought he meant that whatever he painted would be life-like but not really alive or real. Shrugging his shoulders, he dipped the paint brush into the green paint can and began drawing green strokes across the paper. Cleaning of his brush he dipped it into the brown paint and began stroking the brush across the paper again. When he was finished, he looked at what he drew.

“A plant..” He speaks before rolling his eyes. “That’s what I came up with?” He saw the leaves move. As if they were moving along with the breeze that had come through the window. They moved again as another breeze blew through the window. Reaching his hand out to the paper he felt the texture of the plant leaf. Yanking his hand back he furrowed his eyebrows. “This can’t be real...” He said. Slowing reaching his hand back out he touched it again. Still feeling the same texture as before. He yanked at the leaf pulling it off the paper. He pulled more and more of it off until he was holding the potted plant in his hands. it felt real, looked real, and weighed like a fifty pound potted plant. “This is fucking crazy..” He set the plant down on the ground and picked up his brush again. This time drawing a bird. Suddenly the wings began to flutter before the bird flew off the page. It chirped as it flew around his apartment before flying out the window. “Fucking crazy but fucking cool!” He cleaned off the brush again before beginning to paint a black cat. The eyes blinked first before the tail wagged. Soon it was coming off the page and climbing onto Spencer’s lap. It purred quietly before nestling into his lap and going to sleep.

Then an idea popped into his head. If he could bring to life a plant, a bird, and a cat, than what about a person? Soon his late wife, Kinsley, had came to his mind.

Kinsley Edith Reid. Former Supervisory Special Agent of the BAU. She had been apart of the team for three years before they had fallen for each other and they had started dating. The two dated for two years before Spencer proposed with his mother’s engagement ring at a team dinner at Rossi’s mansion. A couple years into their marriage, while out in the field during a case in California, Kinsley caught a stray bullet in her side. It had broke through her ribcage slicing through her lungs and penetrating her heart. By the time the medics had arrived at the hospital with her, she was already pronounced dead. There wasn’t anything they could have done to save her. It was heartbreaking for the team to lose a team member to murder but it was more heartbreaking for Spencer to lose his wife. It was hard for him mentally and physically. Most days he wouldn’t leave his apartment, but those were the good days where he could actually pull himself out of bed.

Now that it had been a year and half since her passing, he thought maybe he’d give it a try. He rolled out the paper on the floor of his apartment. The right length that was long enough for Kinsley’s height. Grabbing the right colors, he began painting her. Her skin color, her eye color, the  rosy, red color of her cheeks, the pink color of her lips. He painted her face and her hair, the shape of her body, even her breasts. Those perfectly shaped breasts that he loved to play with in bed when they had those special moments alone in the night. He soon began to paint her toned legs and tiny, little feet that he loved to tickle to make her laugh. He painted Kinsley’s favorite red dress that flowed elegantly down her body. She had worn it to Jack’s graduation ceremony and one of the Bureau’s galas. Next he painted on her black high heels that she also so much. She wore them every day to work she would somewhat be the same height as the rest of the team. He went back to her hair and turned it into a braid that laid over her right shoulder and stopped just below her right breast. He added details to her painting before setting the paint brush back in the water cup. He sat down on the living room leaning against the couch waiting for her to come to life.

A few hours later...

Spencer awoke from his little slumber and took a look at the painting. She was 2D and lifeless. She was still there on the paper. As still as a rock. Sighing he pulls himself off the floor and over to the window. Closing the window he locks it up and walks down the dark hallway to his bedroom. Stripping down to only his underwear he climbs into bed and slips under the covers.

The moon disappears over the horizon as the sun comes to life bringing light to the city. The sun’s rays creep in through the window lighting up Spencer’s bedroom. Fingers trace the outline of his jaw and run down his neck to his exposed chest. She ran her hand over his stomach and back up to his face where it rest in his left cheek. Her smile grew bigger as she watched him peacefully sleep. She saw his clock turn seven o’clock and he began to stir in bed. She watched him stretch under the covers before turning his head facing her. His eyes remained closed.

“Spencer..” She whispered stroking his cheek. “Wake up Spencer..”

Spencer began to stir again. His eyes fluttered open and he blinked a few times letting his vision focus.

“Good morning sweetcheeks.” She says smiling at him.

He sprung up in bed just looking at her. “Kinno?” He spoke her nickname. “Is that really you?”

“As real as real can be.” She says climbing out of the bed. She twirls in the sunlight. He couldn’t see through her. Her giggles fill the room as she twirls once more before walking over to Spencer. “I feel so good!” She stands in between his thighs as she lays her arms over his shoulders. “It’s so amazing to feel you again.”

“But are you really here though?” He asks.

“Of course I am! It was unbelievable until I saw my empty coffin And look!” She lifts up her dress revealing where the bullet had struck and killed her. “No scar! Nothing!”

“It really worked.” Spencer said in shock. “I really brought you back.”

“You did, Spencer.” Kinsley said smiling wide at him. “I’m alive.”

He wraps his arms around her waist and spins her around making her laugh. “Just wait until everyone sees you. They won’t believe it.” He spins her around again as they both laugh. “Oh it feels so good to hold you again. It’s been too long.”

“I’m back and I am never going away.” Kinsley says. “Although I might leave you if you don’t hurry up and get dressed. I’ve been craving Rossi’s waffles since I woke up. You don’t think he’ll be freaked to see me standing in his kitchen, will he?”

“Slow steps, Kinsley.” Spencer responds with a chuckle. “Let’s not give the guy a heart attack.”

“You’re right.. Well.. Looks like Waffle House will have to do.” She says walking over to the door. “Now hurry or you’ll be walking.” She says before skipping out of the room. He chuckles again while shaking his head.

It’s like she was never gone. He thought to himself before going to his closet to grab some clean clothes to put on.

The ending was eh, I’m sure that I could have done better, but Spence’s wife coming back to life was such an ‘awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwe’ worthy moment. OMG! IT WORKED! IT WORKED! IT WORKED! Now let’s go give Rossi a heart attack shall we? LOL!

If you liked to this one than please be sure to leave a like, a reblog, and some feedback! Thanks so much lovely babes! :)

[brywrites]

Overwhelming III

Author’s Note: @multipotens this one’s for you! I’ve had a few people asking me about another part to Overwhelming, and finally found some inspiration for it. So here you are, my dears! I hope you like it!

(Part I || Part II)

April 4th has been marked on his calendar for a long time. It’s a special day. The fourth day of the fourth month. Four four. A good sign. An omen. O-M-E-N. Four again. It’s April 4th, and he’s taking her to the observatory. Once upon a time she mentioned it, when they were talking about how astronauts have to be careful if they cry in space, and he’s finally going to take her there.

Y/N doesn’t understand space the way he does, but she has an adoration for the stars. When she listens to him explain the night sky, her eyes light up in a way that puts the Milky Way to shame. He always thought that such expressions were so unnecessary. Metaphors never made much sense before her. Now, nothing seems a good enough comparison. She is every bright spot in his sky, the faithful rhythm of a heartbeat, the one and only person who makes him feel like he’s normal. When he’s with her, he’s not drowning. She keeps him anchored and grounded, her love a life raft to keep his head above water.

How he loves her.

For two and a half years, she has been the best thing in his life. Her hand on his cheek as she talks him through a panic attack. The way she scouts out potential date locations to make sure the stimuli won’t be too overwhelming for him. The soft whisper of her voice as she says, good night, Doctor, in the hallway of her apartment building before kissing him.

So many four letter words now hold a much greater significance for him. Kiss and love and lips and dear and want and need and hold. He’s not religious, but when she kisses him that way, he thinks maybe there is a higher power, if by some miracle and against all odds, he is here with the lips of the most beautiful girl in the world on his.

It took several failed attempts at intimacy before he finally managed to feel comfortable enough – long hours in dim rooms, tangled up in sheets and sweat, inevitably concluded with him curled up on the edge of the bed, hands over his ears, eyes shut tight as he tried to breathe in and out. She was patient with him, gently setting a blanket around his shoulders so he wouldn’t feel so exposed and vulnerable, waiting until he could get his lungs to work again. But when it finally happened, her skin beneath his, the way she looked at him as the lines blurred and it became hard to tell where he ended and where she began – if that wasn’t divine, he wasn’t sure what qualified as such.

“Hi you,” she says, when he comes to pick her up. With eyes like stars and a lavender dress, she manages to take his breath away. His heart beats faster, and he becomes keenly aware of the sensation of the leather steering wheel sticking to his skin.

She climbs into the car.

Onetwo threefour onetwo threefour.

Looks at him with a smile she has never directed towards anyone else. Onetwothreefour.

Breathe. Breathe.

In and out and in and out.

“Hey,” he manages, stretching over to kiss her briefly. “You look beautiful. So beautiful.”

“As do you.” He’s dressed up more than usual, in a nice suit and vest, complete with a purple tie littered with tiny stars. “Any particular reason?”

Reid swallows hard and struggles to turn the key in the ignition, his left hand squeezing the steering wheel a little bit tighter. “N-no. I just thought it might be fun, you know?” To his relief, she just nods and doesn’t press the issue further.

At the observatory, they wander through exhibits hand in hand, and he feels a sense of pride as her eyes grow wide at the sight of it all. She asks him question after question, desperate to know more, and he replies with answer after answer.

“Which constellation is your favorite?” she inquires.

What first came to mind was the light in her eyes, and the trail of freckles on her shoulders, and the patterns she traces on his skin when they’re lying together in bed. But he says, “The Pleiades. There are so many stories from so many different cultures about how they came to be, and yet they all sound so similar. I’ve always wondered how something like that could be possible. Which one do you like best?”

“Ursa Major,” she answers. “It’s like an old friend, guiding the way. Now that I think about it, it’s kind of like you. So tall, and always knowing just where to go.” She’s comparing him to stars, and he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve someone like her, but he’s grateful that out of all the universe, she chose him.

It is a mantra he repeats to himself over and over. She chose you. She chose you. She chose you. There is a reason she chose you. No matter what his brain tries to tell him, no matter what doubts arise, she didn’t have to pick him. But she did. And she has. And he hopes that she always will.

At the thought of that, he inhales sharply, crossing his arms and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Subtly trying to stim without her noticing. Of course she does.

“Is everything okay, dear?” Y/N glances around the observatory, people and families strolling through. “Is it too loud? Is it too bright? We can leave if it’s too much.”

“No! No, I’m okay! We should stay. I want to stay.” The words come out in a rush and she tilts her head to the side, confused. Reid brushes it off and checks his watch, fastened over his blazer as usual. They have enough time. All is well. He leads her to a door where the planetarium dome is housed.

“Spencer, the sign says that the show doesn’t start for another hour,” she says.

“It’s alright, I,uh, called in a favor from a friend.” The employee standing outside the door recognizes him, nods, and lets them in. It’s dark and quiet inside, and it takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the void of black. No sooner have they done so does the planetarium screen burst to life, pinpricks of light glowing on the screen. The universe is before them. Endless. Infinite. Perpetual. P-E-R-P-E-T-U-A-L. Pur-peh-chu-all.

“Wow,” she breathes, staring up at the simulated night sky. “This is incredible.” Galaxies, nebula, and constellations spin and float above them. It’s dizzying. Or at least he thinks it is. He can’t tell if it’s the screen or his own emotions that has him feeling lightheaded suddenly.

In and out and in and out. Breathe breathe. He wrings his hands one two three four times in a row. He recites names of stars in his head. He counts backwards from one hundred by prime numbers. He can do this. He can do this.

Reid realizes she’s staring at him, calling his name, and he snaps out of his trance. He can do this. He has to do this. Hand in his suit pocket, he taps his fingers in a slow pattern. “When I was little, I wanted to go up into space so bad. I wanted to see the stars up close and in person. They were so beautiful, I just wanted to be close to them.”

“They’re the most beautiful thing,” she murmurs. In the dim light of the planetarium, her face is half lit up, but it’s enough to see she’s stunned by it all. Overwhelmed.

“No,” he cuts in, “no they’re not.” It comes out harsher than he anticipated and she frowns at him and god he’s never been so nervous in his life. It’s just her. It’s just Y/N, the same Y/N who didn’t run away when he had a panic attack on their first date and who didn’t flinch away from his diagnosis. In all their time together she has never made him feel inferior or ashamed. In fact, she does just the opposite, lifting him up and helping him to find the courage he never dreamed he could possess.

And while she is so good with people, while she could make friends with anyone in a heartbeat, and while he’s convinced that she could manage to make anyone fall in love with her with just that smile of hers and the kindness of her heart, she chooses to love him. The fact that he has Asperger’s doesn’t bother her. Neither does the fact that he’s a recovered addict or the son of a paranoid schizophrenic. She accepts him. She loves him. L-O-V-E. Loves him.

“She loves me,” he whispers under his breath.

“What?” she asks. By now she’s looking rather confused. Reid glances back up at the stars above them, and tries to draw inspiration from them. The Pleiades shine down on him. How strange that their story remains the same across cultures, some magical form of collective effervescence that has crossed oceans.

“They’re not the most beautiful thing. You are.”

This is his story. This is their story. Nothing in the history of the universe has ever been so important to him.

“I have wanted many things in this life,” he tells her, meeting her eyes once more.”I wanted to help my mom and I wanted to get into CalTech and I wanted to join the FBI, and I have wanted a million things along the way, but I have never wanted anything the way I want you. I’ve never needed anything so much.” He takes her hand, and sensing his anxiety, she rubs four steady circles on his skin with her thumb. “I need you in my life. I’m always going to need you, and for the rest of my days, I want to be by your side. You make me a better person, and you’ve proved to me that I’m worthy of love, when I thought nobody would ever want to love me. I want to love you for all of my days and beyond. So, Y/F/N Y/L/N…. Marry me, please?” Maar-ee me please.

Please please please.

Please.

There is nothing but the thundering sound of his own heartbeat in his ears as he drops down to one knee and reveals to her the box he’s been keeping his pocket all day. The weight of it has felt like an anvil, a burden he cannot ignore.

She stares at him unblinking and he counts one two th-

“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes. Yes! Of course I will!” It’s not until that moment he realizes she’s begun to cry, and once he does his own vision starts to blur behind tears. His mind is still processing the words that have come from her lips when she bends down to throw her arms around him and kiss him softly, deeply.

Everything else in the world fades away, and his mind is quiet for just a minute. In this perfect, flawless, minute. Because she said yes.

“Yes?” he clarifies, still shell-shocked.

“Yes,” she assures him. He grins, placing his lips on her forehead, her nose, her cheek, and her lips once more.

It’s intoxicating and blissful and overwhelming o-ver-whel-ming.

This is the good kind of overwhelming, not the sort that makes it impossible to breathe or forces him to close his eyes. So much emotion of any sort is enough to make a mess of him, and while it’s true he’s crying and he can’t find the words to describe this sensation, he doesn’t mind at all. This is the best kind of overwhelming, the joy practically overflowing. She’s laughing and they’re both in tears and her arms are tight around him but the pressure feels nice.

Beneath projected planets and simulated stars, he buries his face in her shoulder. “I love you so,” he says.

One two three four.

[mercy-burning]

Cold Feet (Alternate Version)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After receiving a letter from an old flame just days away from her wedding, Reader wonders if she should call it all off. —Inspired by the song Cold Feet by Tenille Arts Category: Angst (unhappy ending) Content Warnings: An almost kiss that isn’t with Reader’s fiancé Word Count: 1.8k

Read the other version of Cold Feet here!

MASTERLIST

***

She should be happily wrapped in a dream, Safe in a warm bed and sound asleep. So why is she walking back home From a long night down by the creek, With cold feet?

Y/N is currently finding it difficult to breathe.

It was easier a couple days ago when she knew exactly what she wanted. Her husband-to-be was more than excited to marry her, and she'd reciprocated that feeling entirely. Everything was ready to go. Truthfully, they could have gotten married right this second if that's what they wanted, that's how ready to go they were.

But now? She was questioning everything.

She still felt the thin paper in her hands, even with its folded body currently tucked away in an old book she knew was never going to be opened again- a gift from the man who'd written the letter in the first place.

The first time she read it, her heart sank. And by the third time she'd read it, her heart soared.

And then her fiancé walked in, asked her about what to make for dinner, and her heart sank all over again.

Honestly, damn him for choosing now to finally confess. Damn him for making her question everything, after she'd finally moved on and found someone who would always be around.

But then again, she'd ended up choosing to live in a house in their hometown, just blocks away from that creek he'd mentioned in his letter. So... Maybe she hadn't moved on entirely

She hated that she even had to think about it.

She hated that her thoughts were so consumed with this man she hadn't seen in years when the man she was about to marry slept next to her every night, unaware of the start to her inner turmoil. Each night since then, she dreamt of dances with both of them, alternating between the two until they made her choose which of them she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And every morning she'd wake with an even bigger tear in her heart than when the old flame had burned it alive and left her alone in the aftermath to piece it back together.

Her fiancé helped her do that, though. Day by day he taught her to love again, to trust in somebody again, and he was truly a good man.

So why was it absolutely destroying her, thinking of getting married to him when there was someone else in the picture to think about? Someone who'd had a hold on her for well over fifteen years?

Again, she hated that she even had to think about it.

But she wasn't about to get married with all these conflicting thoughts, so whether she wanted to or not, her only real option was the one that would also be the hardest on her tattered heart.

She'd sent him a text message this morning that read, Midnight, and tucked her phone away for the rest of the day, drowning herself in mindless work and looking to keep time moving forward.

Now, she struggles to breathe as she makes her way down to the creek.

It's cold, having just rained fifteen minutes prior, and she wraps her fiancé's cardigan tightly over her her arms, searching for warmth and comfort. She would have settled for one of her own, heavier pieces, but in some strange way she thought maybe having something there that belonged to her fiancée would ground her, something to remind her of the gravity of the situation at hand.

Nothing could have grounded her upon seeing her ex boyfriend after all these years, though, especially when she finally shows up to their old spot and sees him perched on the big stump right next to the water, relief and joy flooding through his features at the sight of her. His smile is just as bright and familiar as she remembered, and it just about knocks the wind out from under her feet.

"Hi, Y/N," he greets softly, standing up and stretching his hands out over his legs. It's obvious that he's nervous to meet up with her after all these years apart, and she couldn't blame him in the slightest.

She's just as nervous as her feet take baby steps towards him. Meanwhile she's hugging her fiancée's cardigan around her body tighter than before. "Hi..."

"I... I can't believe you actually wanted to meet. Truthfully I thought I wouldn't hear back from you."

"Well... Your letter kind of rattled me... You rattled me. I guess I just had to know..."

There's a long pause before he takes a small step towards her and tilts his head. His words are hesitant, like he thinks she might say something he doesn't want to hear. "And... What do you know?"

"I know that I love my fiancé. After you, I didn't really think I'd ever love anyone the same way again, but... He makes me happier than I've ever been, and I... I can't just discard that feeling because you decided too late that you still love me. You know?"

"I do, Y/N, I really do," he answers earnestly, and this time his hand reaches out to grab hers. "But... I mean, you showed up here, didn't you? That has to count for something..."

She isn't really sure how to respond after that. It's true that seeing this man in front of her for the first time in years has brought back a wave of feelings that she'd repressed and even experienced with someone new.

But it's also true that with those feelings comes an inevitable aftertaste of bitterness. He'd left her, decided ultimately that his career was more important to him, and now that she has someone new he's asking her to leave behind this peace she's found. And for what? For him? What's to stop him from leaving again, or deciding years or months down the road that he'd made a mistake and gotten her to leave her one shot at happiness after him?

Nonetheless, she sits with him for hours, listening to him explain... Giving him a chance. He apologizes for the past, he promises to do better in the future, and in between he makes her laugh. Their hands brush, their breaths mingle as they huddle from the cold, and with every passing minute, the cardigan on her shoulders becomes looser and more forgotten.

Slowly but surely, he's lowering her defenses and gaining her trust. He's showing her bits and pieces of the man she fell in love with until they're laughing at close to 3am.

And then, for a moment, it's quiet. Absolutely quiet, save for the crickets and the soft rolling of the creek behind them.

Y/N almost lets him kiss her then.

But then her heart hammers in her chest, and not in a good way. Suddenly, she's imagining the pure heartbreak that would surely manifest on her fiancé's face if he found out- if she really decided to leave him for this old flame that had barely started to kindle once again years later.

She has to be absolutely certain of her decision.

So she pulls back and wraps her fiancé's cardigan tightly around her arms. "I should go home."

There's disappointment in his eyes, and it twists her gut a little. "Right... Um... I-I can take you back, if you want."

"No, I, uh... I think I'm gonna walk. I have to think."

Y/N avoids his gaze just quickly enough that she doesn't see the disappointment in his eyes fizzle into a tiny sliver of hope.

Rain on the sidewalk, doubt in her mind. One thing's for sure, she's running out of time To decide what's right, And who's heart she's willing to break.

She climbs into bed some time later, the cardigan still wrapped tightly around her body, and she can't quite bring herself to face the man sleeping next to her. It feels wrong, like somehow she's betrayed him by even thinking of spending the rest of her life with another person. She doesn't feel worthy of his love.

When she wakes up the next morning, she'd somehow ended up facing him anyway. He's staring at her with adoring eyes, and under his gaze she can't help the guilt that washes over her.

"Quit looking at me like that..."

Her words are grumbly and soft because of having just woken up, and because her face is half hidden behind blankets and his cardigan, her fiancé doesn't know anything is wrong.

Instead, he laughs. "What, you're beautiful... And before you start arguing with me, yes, you're even beautiful when you wake up."

She only grumbles, feeling anything but.

It's quiet for a moment or two before he speaks again. "You're wearing my cardigan..."

Peeking her eyes out from the mountain of fabric, she can see the enchantment in his eyes and it makes her warm. "I was cold..."

While true, she mostly means I had cold feet.

"Come here."

Two simple words, two syllables, and yet it's the softest declaration of love she's ever heard. Her body instinctively nestles into his, face going straight into the crook of his neck while he wraps her up in his arms.

"There," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You feel warmer yet?"

"Mhm..." She sighs into his skin and then takes in a deep breath.

He smells like home.

He feels like home.

And as he starts softly humming her favorite song, rubbing soothing circles into her back as he holds her close, Y/N wonders why she'd ever doubted her love for him.

He is home.

Spencer never was— he was almost always gone.

Letting him go is hard given their past; The good in their relationship was really good, but... it wasn’t enough. It isn't enough for Y/N to leave behind this new, pure love that had reopened parts of her soul she hadn't realized could be repaired after Spencer.

While James makes coffee in the kitchen, Y/N wanders to the bookshelf, gently removing Spencer's gift from the dark wood and swiping her hand over the bound leather exterior. The letter enclosed inside, handwriting that matches an inscription on the front inside cover of the book, beats softly like a heart.

Later that day, as she makes her way five towns over, that heartbeat slowly diminishes— until, finally, she drops it off at the local bookstore for donation, and it stops beating altogether.

And Spencer, somehow, can feel it. He feels it deep in his bones, that she'd given up on them— on him.

He feels the beating of his heart slow down day after day, so quiet and barely tangible, that once the day of her wedding finally arrives, it shatters altogether.

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[yurimura]

Distance Yourself (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Request: Hi, I would like a one shot shot that Reid picks up in prison and the convicts make psychological pressure saying they’re going to hurt their pregnant wife. And when she visits him, he asks her not to come for her safety.

A/N: Just as a reminder, I won’t be writing any more prisoner!Spencer after this, just because I’m not entirely comfortable with this, nor am I completely caught up on the season.

Word Count: 764 words

This whole prison thing was not what Spencer expected. First of all, he never expected to be in prison.

He knew what kind of people went to prison, obviously it was part of his to know these things. In theory, Spencer knew almost everything about these people and how to handle them. In practice, it was a lot harder.

It started with your first visit, the side glances towards where the two of you were sitting, the slowed walks as they exited. Spencer could feel their eyes on you, on the both of you. At first he thought it was mere jealousy. He didn’t want to brag, but most of his fellow inmates didn’t have their wives visiting them as much as possible.

Then the threats started. Well, not really threats. More like comments, little lines dropped here and there that drove him crazy. Comments about you, questions about when you were due. He didn’t like it, talking about you like they knew you, like they were worthy of even thinking about you. Spencer was fiercely protective, but never lashed out.

He tried not to let it get to him, for your sake.

He didn’t want you to see him aggravated, he didn’t want you to see that little by little Spencer felt like he was losing himself with each passing day.

He was doing well, too. Until the comments started to get worse. Little chats that started up at any given time:

’When I get out of here, I’m going to find myself a little doll.’

‘I’ve been seeing this one chick, dropping by during visiting hours. I think she’s taken, but you know how good I am at convincing people.’

‘You know, I love it when a girl begs for her life.’

They were all obviously talking about you. These convicts weren’t just trying to get under his skin with any given topic, they were threatening your safety, and the safety of the life you held inside you.

Spencer wouldn’t, couldn’t, let this go on.

You had to leave.

“Spence?” Your voice suddenly pulled him back to reality, “you’re acting weird, are you alright?”

“_____, yeah-yeah I’m alright, listen,” he bit his bottom lip, unsure how you would take this, “you… I don’t think you should be coming around anymore.”

“Spence, what?” You didn’t know what to make of this, you thought you were helping him by coming around whenever you could, “I-I thought you wanted me here.”

“I do! _____, I really do, but,” he checked to make sure that no one was listening in, “these guys, they want to hurt you, ______. I can’t let you, either of you, get hurt because I want to see you more often.”

You could see the desperation in his eyes, the caution between every glance he made towards his fellow inmates. It was habit for him to be overly-cautious, but never has he turned you away. He always told you that you were safer next to him, at least he could keep you safe if someone was targeting either of you.

The situation was different now, though. He was in prison, you were carrying a child. He couldn’t keep you safe, and you were more vulnerable than ever.

“Move in with your mother for a while, I’ll ask JJ to keep you updated, but please-please don’t come here anymore. I can’t save you. I don’t want to lose you.” His voice was laced with desperation.

“Spencer, they can’t get me, they’re in there. I’m out here. I’d be more worried about you,” you said.

“But they know people, _____. I-I can’t even risk it, losing you, you’re the light of my life. I don’t want to lose you…”

Loss. Spencer’s greatest fear. You knew he hadn’t had the best of luck in the past. A girlfriend he loved so much, dead before he could even touch her. A mother suffering not only from schizophrenia, but dementia. The fear that one day, the same might happen to him. He had lost so much, and you knew losing anything else would ruin him.

So you would comply.

It would hurt, oh yes, it would hurt you and him to be apart. But it would give him peace of mind, and you knew he needed that certainty that these men wouldn’t hurt you.

“Okay. Okay, Spence. I’ll go, but promise me you’ll get cleared, promise me that the next time I see you, I’ll be able to hold you, you’ll be able to hold your child, we’ll be able to be a family.”

“I promise.”