zummmii

[zummmii]

Calls | S.R

Pairing: S1!Spencer Reid X Reader (use of yn, kinda had to)

Summary: After years of not calling Spencer shows up at your police department to help with a case, you avoid eachother until you can’t.

Wc: 2.5k (wow)

Warnings: Kidnapping, victim gets burned alive, murder by gun, weapons, death, sassy Spencer, the case they are working on is heavily influenced by Hannibal Season 1 Episode 4, ‘Oeuf’, not proof read

The bullpen flooded with life, with officers running in and out with new insights connected to the biggest case in the precinct. The case was a big one, in fact it was the biggest one since Gacy, or better known as The Killer Clown.

But with it being a big case, the media breathing down the Police Departments neck, and the public panicking about their safety, it brought in the professionals. Which you would have been fine with, you had no problem with the FBI, you had no problem with profilers.

You only had a problem with him. And it was quite obvious he had a problem with you too.

It’s not that you left each other on a bad note, because you did, but that is not the point. You and Spencer go way back, all the way to Nevada where you were both well into your late teens, doing stupid teenager things without thinking. But despite a few moments that were spent with little to no thought you had no intention to be friends or even friendly towards each other. Though towards the end of your school years you both vowed to keep in touch.

Spencer was always better than you, always one up-ing you, and making sure to rub it into your face as much as he possibly could. You always let him, his mom was too nuts to acknowledge his achievements and his dad- well you never actually met his dad. So you figured he just wanted someone to listen to him.

Though that’s not what annoyed you when he walked into the bullpen, his team in front of him as he tailed in, head down and reading a pamphlet in his hands which he would have picked up from the entrance of the PD.

It was the fact he acted like he didn’t even know you. You’d sent a small smile his way but he just put his head down and gave his undivided attention to, who you’d learnt to be, Agent Gideon. But before you could think too deep into his ignorance and start overthinking about what you may have done in the past 7 years to cause this, your attention was snatched by a police officer.

You follow the crowd, taking a spot in a secluded space in the back, note book tucked into your arm, pen tapping aimlessly against the pages. Since you were one of the higher ups in the precinct you were allowed to take part in the pre-discussion where the unit chief talks to the higher ups before briefing the rest of the department, which in this instance, is The BAU.

But still, since the brief awkward awakening of your previous interaction with your childhood anti-nemesis you chose to keep your distance. Standing off the side seemed to be the best option, the notebook in your grip containing the basic evidence you’d gathered yourself.

In the case a series of family murders had taken place. Two families were found murdered, both with the mothers killed last and the only link between the families is that they both have sons who have been on the missing persons list for approximately a year.

In your notes you’d written down that there are at least four murderers, which the BAU already know, from which you can hear. But you believe at least three of them are children, boys. But that’s all you know so far, what else could you know?

What you did know, the one leading this, the one in charge, is a woman. A mother like figure.

“-I think we’re ready to deliver the profile.” Agent Gideon nodded, his hands placed firmly on the desk in front of him as he hunched over it. His voice held a confidence you couldn’t identify.

Your Unit Chief holds a single finger up, his chubby fingers wrapping around the top of your note book, pulling it out your grasp with a satisfied sigh when he sees the page it’s open on filled with scribbled handwriting. “Just a second agent, please.” The fake pride in his voice filled your ears with a ringing sound. “This is Y/n L/n, our detective in- well, everything.” He shrugged, flicking through the pages until he reached the sub title: Profile.

Feeling all eyes on you, you shift on your feet, hands finding their way to your pockets to hide the facts you wanted to pick at your nails until there were none left out of pure awkward anxiety. You give a small nod, your lips pulled into a tight lined smile.

The group before you were rather intimidating, all well known within the police and federal department of the jobs of the world. Agent Gideon and his genius in profiling. Agent Hotchner ability to negotiate with anyone he wanted. Derek Morgan’s speciality in obsessive behaviours. And then Spencer. You didn’t think much of him anymore, which is the decision you’d thought of out of pure petty-ness in the past 22 hours.

Agent Gideon only stands up straight, his hands coming up to fold across his chest as his eyes land on you in the corner of the room, having only just noticed you. “Huh.” He murmurs, turning to his side to look at Spencer who only shrugs.

Your unit chief hands over the note book. “Uh, there may be a few things in there you might find-“

“Why don’t we let Agent L/n tell us?” A straight forward voice broke through the unit chiefs voice, the familiarity in it breaking past the ringing that echoed in your ears. Spencer held a dismissive expression as he stared at the chief, hands clasped together in front of him.

Taken a back the chief simply closes his mouth and nods, taking a step back.

As your eyes land on Spencer you want to throw something at him. He comes in here pretending he doesn’t know you, and then defends you, against your boss?

Before your eyes could speak for you and glare with a tone that would only say hateful words Spencer turned his neck to look down at the notebook in Agent Gideon’s hands.

“It’s not much, really.” You mumble, but the words fall under deaf ears as a phone starts ringing. Morgan flicks a phone out his pocket and holds it up to his mouth with a soft sigh. “Garcia, baby girl, please tell me something I want to hear”

Looking down you shift on your feet. “You are a statuesque god of sculpted chocolate thunder?” A voice on the other end of the phone replied within a beta of a second, not a smidge of hesitation in her tone.

Your head shot up, your eyes surprisingly finding Spencer’s but instead of your shocked expression he simply shook his head and gently took the note book from Agent Gideon’s hands. He joined you at your side, placing the note book on the table in front of you both. “What makes you think it’s children?”

Looking down at where his finger was pointing you pull up a small smile, fake but still you put on your best efforts. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Genius.” The words left your mouth before you could stop yourself.

But Spencer only sighed, straightening his lips into a thin line of disappointment. He opened his mouth to reply but was quickly cut off by a sharp whistle. “She talks.” Morgan grins placing the phone on the table.

Agent Gideon looks up to the Chief. “If you don’t mind we would like to talk further into the case with Agent L/n for a few moments.” He said with an assertive tone. As if he was telling and not asking.

The Chief could do no more than nod, put his head down, and walk out, having burnt out his 20 minutes of fame.

As the door clicked close behind him the same voice from the phone sparked again. “Okay so who was snappy-snaper-son and why are they angry at our Boy Wonder?”

“Garcia.” Hotch grumbled from the sidelines, rubbing the side of his head in irritation.

There was a beat of silence before the voice spoke again. “Right, sorry, okay. Whoever you are, I like your fire. I’m Penelope Garcia, technical analysts, but my friends call me wonderful.” She spoke, again flawlessly. Her bubbly voice just made you swell and forget about the anger you held for the lanky boy who stood shoulder to shoulder beside you, his eyes focused on the notebook you had.

spencer now wasn’t your top thought, this random lady on the phone was. And all you could think about was getting to meet her and trash talking Spencer or anyone you please with her.

“Anyway, I got a video in, I sent it to you all. A convenience store just 15 miles from the last crime scene. The footage pretty much explains itself. Three boys, one woman.” As the mysterious woman on the other end of the phone, Penelope Garcia, continued further into her description Spencer’s stare only bored further into the side of your head.

“Poor boy looked terrified.” Garcia’s frown can be heard through the phone.

After the phone hung up with a few flirtatious words spewing from Morgan’s mouth like impulse all attention was on you, most importantly Spencer.

“How did you know that?” He demands, placing the note book down on the desk again.

You squint your eyes at him, every bit of dislike spiking back up and bubbling over like a boiling pot left on the stove at maximum heat for too long. “Okay.” The word leaves your mouth quietly and you turn to look down at your notes. “Two family murders, two missing boys. In both crime scenes the mothers are left till last and shot in the forehead: instant kill.” Your explanation starts off brief, the entire room going quiet as they listen to you. “The mother dies last, like some sort of ritual goodbye. But in the first family murder the body of Scott Wilkins was found in the fire place. The fourth ‘Lost boy’.” You use air quotes.

“Miss Wilkins was shot twice, once in the thigh and once in the head. I just.. guessed. The execution shot was the Unsub, Scott didn’t step up to the plate to kill his mother and take the Unsub on as his new mother so she killed him too. Left him behind. And since that footage came in, the only family left is 10 year old, Graham Lester’s, 30 miles away from the last crime scene. They’re probably already there.”

Spencer only nods slowly, the silence of the room crowding in comfortable understanding as everyone takes in what you just said. You fidget with your fingers in front of you.

Agent Hotchner sighs. “Well, you just single handedly solved the entire case.” He says flatly, though you could hear an undertone of respect.

With a nod of agreement Agent Gideon turns to you as well. “We’ll still give out a quick profile, and then we’ll set out to stop the next murder.” He looked around for agreement and received firm nods from everyone.

The door opened and a woman with dark hair poked her head in. “We’re getting impatient out here.” She says, a cool atmosphere holding her to the loud voices of awaiting officers in the office.

Everyone except Reid joined her outside, leaving just the two of you in the conference room alone. The silence was now unbearable. The boy who once knew everything about you, won’t even look at you.

His eyes stayed glued to the notebook, as if looking anywhere else would shatter the resistance in the room around you both.

Swallowing the lump in your throat you shake your head. “What happened to yeah I’ll call?” You murmur, a sharp edge covering your words.

He winced internally, he never meant to stop calling, he wanted to stay friends and possibly become more than that, but he pussied out. "I got caught up with the job," he finally admitted, eyes still refusing to meet yours.

You almost scoff, the calling system had worked so well for a year, and then he slowly starts to deteriorate into never calling again. Maybe a message on Christmas or your birthday. But, other than that, he won’t pick up.

“Is that it?” Your words become heavier with years worth of regret and anger seething beneath you into one big ball of pure emotion. “That’s all you have to say? It was the job? Because I thought we were doing fine. It was working.”

You didn’t take a step back and instead stayed where you were, staring up at him, shoulder to shoulder. “It’s a bad excuse.” He admits quietly, not having the courage to break the silence with a louder voice.

“It’s a-“ You pause, trying to summon the right words, your hands coming up to his chest the shove him away. “Shitty, that’s what it is.”

Though Spencer didn’t argue all he did was slowly take ahold of your fighting hands, holding b them in his own. “Very, very shitty. But now is not the time to tell me off, Y/n. We’re working.” He states with a shit eating grin and a teasing tone, bringing his face down to yours. “Time and a place.” He whispers.

All words leave your mind and you stare at him in disbelief. You try to hoard any words you can to make any sentence, but you can’t. Not when he’s this close, not when his cologne is invading every sense available. Spencer’s hands hold your own so gently you feel almost numb. You feel stupid for calling his excuse shitty, even though it was.

The door opened and your hands place firm enough to Spencer’s chest to shove him away, acting as if you weren’t invading eachother personal space like it was a normal Tuesday. It was Agent Hotchner. “Reid, Agent L/n, we’ve delivered the profile. Please Prepare to head out to the Lesters.” Agent Hotchner gave a firm nod as he spoke, reminding you both that you were in the middle of a case.

“We’ll be right out.” Spencer nods, holding a shirt thumbs up and offering a curt nod.

Agent Hotchner nods towards Spencer and turns his attention towards you. “The BAU’s Media Liaison will be in touch. Please don’t shy away from replying.” A ghost of a rare smile splashed across his lips before he disappeared again.

Standing in stunned silence you let out a huffed hum. Not sure whether to be jumping with joy or crying out of pure overwhelming emotion. “Why are you always so moody? You should be squealing.”

And just like that, within seconds your eyes widened. “Do not make me slap you in front do all those people out there.” You motion to all the officers outside in the bullpen.

Though Spencer only shrugged and walked past you, his hands running over the lower half of your back as he did. “Okay.”

Maybe you did just get offered a job, maybe you will actually get to meet that Mystery Garcia lady, or maybe Spencer is a forever asshole. Regardless, you take a deep breath and focus on the task at hand, you can deal with him later, now is not the time



[zummmii]

Make A Wish

Summary: You stay up late, and Spencer comes to find you.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader, established relationship (no mention of yn)

Warnings: Sassy Spencer, mention of sleep deprivation, mention of case but not really, not proof read

wc: 960

You had always been invested in space. The thought that you weren’t the only living things out there. The thought that even if there was another living thing out there we’d never know because of light years separating our timelines.

If there was something out there, looking for a similar civilisation, they wouldn’t find people, they wouldn’t find you. They’d find the jurassic period, the ice age, the mosaic period.

And so in the dead of night you find yourself sat on the sofa closest to the window, a book in your hair as you stared up at the sky, clear and dark blue. Little twinkling stars starring back at you.

Your legs tucked under yourself as you sat perched on the couch, one of Spencer’s over sized shirts and panties. Nothing much but it was comfortable.

He was asleep, you didn’t want to wake him up, he’d just got home for a week long case. You missed Spencer, more than you thought you would.

You missed his voice, how soft he talks to you compared to everyone else. The soft brown eyes he gives you every time he looks at you, like you’re the most expensive piece of jewellery in the shop. You missed his gentle touch, the possessive but caring way he holds your waist at any possible chance.

It always worried you, when he left you didn’t know whether he’d come back safely and unharmed, or even come home at all. All these terrible people, horrible, cruel people- murderers, kidnappers, terrorists, he put them away with the BAU team, and as much as you are proud of him, you can’t help but worry.

The cool night time breeze drifted through the small crack in the window, blowing your hair gently out your face with minor hesitation, the little wispy strands that had fallen down from the hair tie dancing quietly. The stars twinkled through the dark blue sky, the moon not even half full glowing brightly in the middle of it.

You had the perfect view from Spencer’s apartment building. His window was right on the corner of the street, pointing exactly diagonally from the building across. There was nothing blocking your view from the endless abyss of space.

The apartment was silent, safe for the whistling wind outside. So quiet you could hear a pin drop from the top floor.

Foot steps, muffled and muted against the floor boards from socks approached from behind you, Spencer. He was supposed to be asleep, the case taking a toll on his sleep schedule. But still, you glance over your shoulder, your gaze landing on the curly hair Dr who was rubbing his eyes and blinding walking over.

His lips brushed against your ear as he moved to kiss the temple of your head. You only shudder, turning to catch his gaze with your own eyes.

Spencer’s brown eyes glistened in the dark light shining down on the two of you as he bends down to be closer, leaning over the sofa. “You’re supposed to be asleep.” He murmurs, his voice reminding you how much you missed him over the past week.

Your lips found his jaw. “I was.” You whisper softly against his skin.

Spencer stood up straight, a quiet groan leaving his lips as he stretched out his back. The sofa dipped beside you as he climbed over the back, claiming half the sofa as his own. “Was.” He repeats, rolling his eyes in feigned disappointment.

A small smile etched its way to your lips, you lean into his side, pulling a blanket up to cover your legs when the breeze got too cold. You don’t look at him, your gaze, again, glued to the dark sky. “Was.” You nod against his chest, repeating the word in the same tone. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

The glow of the moon shown down onto his face, defining his lips and jaw line into intricate beauty. Soft curls coiled messily over his forehead. “I was, but I woke up and couldn’t find you.” His excuse was lame but heart-warmingly sweet.

You lift your head from his chest, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns over the patterns of the shirt he wore. Your expression was purely unimpressed as he had given a lame extended version of your reason, just twisted into a different tale. “Was.” You roll your eyes, poking his cheek as a smug lazy grin makes its way to his face.

The sky shone brightly, a flash of light lighting up the room. The line disappeared just as quickly as it came. Spencer’s hand wrapped around your shoulder, moulding into the curve. “What did you wish for?” He asks after a few seconds of silence.

Staying quiet you stare up at the sky, your eyes looking for any other movement. “Can’t tell you that.” You break the silence.

“Well,” Spencer pulled you closer his arm slipping under your knees and the other under your shoulders. “I wished for you to come to bed.” He gave a flat smile standing up with you, your arm snapping out to wrap around his neck.

Spencer gave you a hurt look. “You don’t trust me?” He frowned, his lips curling upside down into a pout.

“You’d probably drop me on purpose.” You roll your eyes, and your point was proved when he jutted in the door way of his bedroom, his grip on you faltering.

But he caught you.

“I hate you.”

Spencer drops you onto his bed rolling over top of you to the other side. “Get off, you big child.” You hit his shoulder and he settles on the other side of the bed.

His arm curled around your hip and pulled you closer. “love you too.”