Spencer Reid had read enough books to know what needed to be done, knew the local library like the back of his hand, but after receiving the golden message that his girlfriend is pregnant, he refreshed his knowledge of pregnancies.
Nervously, the tall man paced the flat. His face was troubled and sweat danced down his spine. He strode up and down. The stuffed bag was on the side of the door next to the prepared slippers for his girlfriend. Spencer had already slipped into his sneakers at five o'clock in the early morning, was ready and had not closed his eyes after he heard the hisses and curses escaping Y/N in low tones.
Spencer saw the sharp pain running through her body but Y/N waved him off, listened to him, but the pain wasn’t long lasting, only for a few moments, not even ten seconds. His trembling fingers ran through his unmade hair and kept looking towards his girlfriend, who was sitting calmly in a serene mood in the middle of the sofa, lovingly stroking her belly. Smiling, Y/N looked up and spotted Spencer standing by the door. Calmly with fear coating his face he was waiting for his girlfriend to finally understand that the pains coming and going in waves were no longer Braxton Hicks but contractions.
“I’m taking you to the hospital now.” his firm voice broke the silence.
“They’re just Braxton Hicks. I still have two weeks, almost three, to go. It’s a false alarm. Little Reid here wants to have a little fun with us. He’s just testing you. Let’s have some breakfast and enjoy the morning.” Y/N responded calmly.
“You are in the early stages of labour, my love. You should eat a small snack and stay hydrated. No pancakes or a piece of cake with extra whipped cream.” Spencer recited what he had read, knowing exactly what was written in the book on the fifteenth page of the second chapter.
“Spence, I am hungry. I am starving. How can you be sure I’m already in labour? I’m fine. Little Reid is just kicking me a little too hard, but he will surely stop, and if he doesn’t, then you need to have a very serious talk with him. Spence, my love, come to me, caress my tummy and tell me it’s going to be okay. That’s all I need right now. I know you’re worried. I really understand, but please stop.” Y/N breathed exhausted.
Spencer laid his eyes on his girlfriend, saw the pain she was trying to hide, but Spencer saw it clearly. Y/N couldn’t hide anything from her boyfriend. The genius clasped the bag he had packed, placed it on the table and turned to the kitchen. Exhaling loudly, he took two chocolate bars with frozen strawberries followed by a pack of washed blueberries and walked with the snacks towards his girlfriend seated on the sofa with her aching legs resting on the table. Fatigue had settled on her face but she could no longer close her eyes.
“Spence, come to me and rest. Let’s watch a movie. You have been up for more than seven hours. It can’t be contractions and you’re making me nervous. We will wait a few hours and if it doesn’t get better then you can take me to the hospital.” Y/N exhaustedly breathed.
Y/N longed for a moment of peace, wanting to close her eyes and fall asleep. Spencer nodded as he strolled towards the sofa. He was aware he wasn’t able to get his very pregnant girlfriend into the vehicle he had prepared and take her to the nearest hospital to see a doctor.
“Agreed? Trust me, if it gets worse, I will let you know. You don’t have to fear Spence. Everything is okay.” Y/N laughed. “And then you will hold my hand and take me to the hospital.” Y/N continued.
No fear filled her as Y/N thought about the birth, but she didn’t take it lightly, knowing how painful the birth of a child was, having heard countless of stories from her friends, but the difference between them and her was that she had Spencer by her side who would keep the promises he had made, knew her boyfriend would be the best father under the sun.
"Do you have a name in mind, Y/N?” Spencer switched the subject.
Smiling, Spencer handed her the snacks and gratefully Y/N accepted them, opened the snack bar and took a big bite.
“No, still not. I’m sure that when we see our little Reid, we will know what his name will be. We’ll see him and we’ll both say a name at the same time. Spence, what do you want to say me? I understand you, but I’d rather sit here on the couch and watch a movie until my water breaks or the contractions start than in an overheated, bad-smelling hospital room.” Y/N said.
“That’s a good idea. And you don’t have to worry about that, I’ve booked us a private room. You’ll have your own fridge, TV and air conditioning. Don’t you want to at least get changed? My biggest fear is that you will give birth in the car.”, “But I’m sure you’d make a good obstetrician. I’m sure you would. I love you, so I’m going to change, you’re going to eat something and make yourself a cup of coffee in the meantime and enjoy a moment of peace.” Y/N interjected.
Spencer crossed his arms in front of his chest, hadn’t sat down by her side, was prepared, and even the car key was in his back pocket.
“Okay.” Spencer conceded afterwards.
Lovingly, his hands settled on her body and Spencer helped his girlfriend up, placing his hand on her back and leading her away from the sofa and escorting her to the kitchen. Lovely words escaped his words and Y/N smiled, forgetting the pain wandering across her body. A faint grin spread on his lips as he saw her gait reminding him of a penguin walking through high snow, he didn’t want to smile but he couldn’t help it. Spencer took a sip of the already cold liquid in the white cup before placing it on the kitchen island. His heart ached all at once. He looked up, almost tripping over his own feet, and ran through the short hallway swifter than the wind and jumped through the door.
“Y/N?” he nearly screamed.
Questioningly, Spencer glanced up at his girlfriend, but then he saw the wetness travelling down her bare legs. His lips were no longer touching. Her face was troubled, filled with pain.
“I think you were right after all Spence. They were contractions and they are getting a little worse. I’m sorry.” Y/N whispered.
“You have nothing to apologise for, my love. Nothing can happen to the baby now, but I think it would be better if your doctor will check on you and the baby, it may take a few more hours but if you say the pain is getting worse it would be better if we get on our way.” Spencer breathed lovingly.
The knowledge he had gained over long months returned, knowing exactly what to do.
“I’ll put a dress on you. After that, we will drive to the hospital. I’ve already packed your bag, and the car is ready too. You have to worry about nothing. I will hold your hand as promised. You will be a great mother Y/N.” no other words, telling her he was right after all didn’t escape the man.
Spencer came to a halt directly in front of his girlfriend. His eyes let her know she had nothing to be afraid of. Gently his hands rested on her body and breathed a loving kiss on her lips while his right hand rested on her stomach.
A reddish veil settled on the faces. The blanket slid down his chest, revealing his well-defined muscles adorned with reddish claw lines. Gracefully, his fingers slid over her skin. Guilt spread through Spencer, seeing the marks his nails had left over her body, kissed by the rays of the sun streaming through the narrow gap of the long curtains.
Spencer´s gaze slid from the dancing dust particles illuminated by the sun to his girlfriend, who had fallen asleep in his arms and did not appear to wake in the next few moments. Spencer was unable to take his eyes away from his beloved, running his gaze over the shape of her beautiful body. Blissfully, he smiled and again he was wondering what he had done to deserve Y/N. For a long time, the genius was planning to take Y/N as his wife, had bought a ring a few weeks ago but the blue velvet box was well hidden and the question didn’t make it past his lips.
Blue marks adorned her flesh, not covered by the quilt. Spencer did not wake his girlfriend, enjoying the moment of peace, laughing low and closing his eyes in pleasure. Suddenly he realised today was his day off and decided after not a moment’s thought to spend the whole day in bed, only getting out of bed if he had to. He didn’t wake her up. Sliding closer to his girlfriend, the grin on his features kissed by the rays of the rising sun grew wider, knew it was Y/N´s day off too.
The young couple had decided a few months ago to have at least four days off a month to spend more quality time together, and Spencer longed for more days filled with love and dates mirroring the first dates at lovely restaurants and bistros. Even if the couple spend whole days together at work, both longed for moments of peace, not for pictures causing nightmares, making it almost impossible to close the eyes. It was Y/N who suffered greatly if the cases turned and twisted like the limbs of a fallen man but on those nights, Spencer was always by her side, listening and helping by his mere presence.
The sun’s rays kissed his bare chest as he moved, finding a comfortable position and leaned against the wood so he could be closer to the love of his life. Spencer loved her like the first day, loved her from the deepest depths of his heart, and couldn’t think of a better girlfriend than Y/N.
His roughened fingertips slid over her forehead again, brushed the strands of hair away, and whispered words of love and adoration into her ear. Her eyelids twitched and through narrowed eyes, Y/N looked up at Spencer. Her face contorted into a grimace, but then a slight smile spread across her lips, gazing into the eyes surveying her lovingly. Y/N chuckled as his hand cupped her cheek. They lost each other in their gazes, looked at each other enamoured. Y/N raised her right hand and stroked his cheek with her thumb, feeling the slight growth of his beard under her touch, feeling the bumps, and smiled.
“Good morning, my love.” Y/N breathed, losing herself in her lover’s eyes as he continued with his loving touches.
“Good morning. Do you know what day it is today, my darling?” asked Spencer joyfully.
Questioningly, Y/N looked at her long-haired boyfriend. Her brows almost touched, and a question wanted to cross her lips, but before the first syllable, the first word could cross Y/N realised what day it was. The smile softened and turned into a wide grin.
“What do you say we go to the mountains today? We can hike. I heard the park there is nice, and I heard you talking about it with JJ. She visited it last week. Or we could do some work in the garden.” Y/N breathed sleepily.
No answer escaped Spencer who shook his head in response.
“Why not?”, “We can just stay here in bed. We can sit in the garden and lie under the tree and enjoy the day. No cleaning nor working. I’ll buy some takeout, ice cream and other sweets at the supermarket,” Spencer explained in a joyful tone.
His voice was rough. A sudden shiver ran down her spine, remembering his words of adoration, telling her how much he loves her, how much he is longing for her touch, craving her closeness. Y/N wanted to get up from the bed but a soft whine crossed her lips. Spencer’s eyes widened, looked questioningly down at his girlfriend, searching for wounds, wanting to understand what had happened, but couldn’t find the answer, didn’t see any open wounds adorning her skin and suddenly he saw the answer. The blanket had slipped down her frame and bruises radiated all over her body from her neck to her stomach in one trail.
“I’m sorry, my dove. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Do you need something? Are you in pain?” Spencer whispered.
No traces of mild pain graced her face, had enjoyed the night to the fullest. Amused, Y/N peered up at her lover. Her glance rested on his throat and spotted the scratches she had left on his flesh. Y/N sank her teeth into her lower lip.
“Spencer, you certainly didn’t hurt me, you could never hurt me.” Y/N immediately interjected. “And you should take a closer look at yourself. Blue suits you well.” Y/N joked amused.
Y/N quickly rose from the bed, pushed herself off of the pillow and let her hands rest on his cheek, brushed away the traces of fear and distress and let Spencer wordlessly know she was fine and feeling no pain. The next gust carried the clouds away. Spencer leaned forward, rested his hands on her hers and breathed a loving kiss on her lips.
Winter ruled in his eyes, and mist clouded his senses. Spencer folded his arms in front of his chest and gazed into nothingness, half-heartedly listening to the escaping words and ignoring the questioning looks directed at him.
His gaze was stony. Thunder and lightning ignited the darkness. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, just wanted to get a sauce from the fridge that Rossi had forgotten to put on the table. Spencer slowly went ahead, sure neither Hotch nor Y/N had noticed that he had come, that he had followed them. The man in the dark suit had not dared to enter the kitchen, hiding in the darkness of the shadows, standing like a statue when he heard his girlfriend’s voice shattering into hundreds of pieces.
Spencer didn’t know whether to be angry or disappointed. He felt empty even though he wanted to be delighted, but his heart ached and he couldn’t explain it. Spencer desired to take his girlfriend in his arms, wondered how he had not noticed the symptoms of the early stages of pregnancy, noticed many things, almost everything, and suddenly, it all made sense. Vaguely Spencer remembered the moments when Y/N didn’t want to drink wine, the early mornings when she refused to have a cup of coffee with him as usual. Laughing low, he noticed she had been wearing loose-fitting clothes for several days, weeks and suffered more from headaches or went to bed earlier and didn’t want to fall asleep in his arms anymore. His heart ached, remembered how she prevented him from touching her skin, tried to make it impossible to hug her, to hold her against his chest and whisper delicate words into her ear.
“Did you find the sauce?” echoed Rossi.
Deep in his thoughts, Spencer went ahead and settled down on the chair. His heart was beating fast, and he tried to put a mask of coldness on his features. Confused, they all looked down at Spencer, seeing the joy filling his gaze. Hush voices forced them to look up and spotted Hotch and Y/N as they joined them. Spencer sensed her presence and looked out of the corner of his eye at Y/N, smiling faintly as she returned to the terrace of the tranquil house.
No hatred filled Spencer’s sparkling eyes, had heard the fear in her voice when she told Hotch the well-hidden secret. Spencer quickly banished the smile from his lips, heard the voice he would recognise among hundreds, and lowered his gaze, knowing well his eyes would fall on her belly. He wanted to touch her hand, rest his hands on her belly, wanted to feel life growing inside her, massage her feet and tell her she is the most beautiful woman in the entire world. But then he clenched his hands into fists, making it impossible for his fingers to touch her or to reach for the mobile phone in his pocket to search for suitable healthy recipes on the internet.
Pride filled his body. He looked back and Spencer thought he saw a barely discernible unevenness under the flowing material of the long dress. Spencer swallowed. He didn’t know what to do. A grin stretched across his lips as he realised that in a few months he would hold his child in his arms, and then he looked at Y/N, the mother of his child.
“I’ll take care of everything. You don’t have to worry about anything, Y/N,” Hotch breathed in Y/N’s ear, but Spencer could hear every word loud and clear.
“Thank you.”, “I think you know what you should do. Tell him soon,” Hotch added and Y/N nodded.
Spencer rose quickly and pushed the chair next to his back. Giving his girlfriend a slight smile, Spencer forced his eyes to rest on her delicate features, kissed by the light of the shining sun, repeating over and over in his head that he wasn’t supposed to look at her stomach.
“Thank you, Spence,” Y/N spoke, settling down on the chair Spencer offered.
“Can I get you anything? Do you need anything, my love? It’s really warm and the rays of the sun can make you feel weak. Are you drinking enough?” Spencer asked.
Concerns coated his voice as he gave Y/N´s shoulder a tender squeeze. Y/N shook her head, clutched the glass and brought it to her lips. Spencer settled down next to his girlfriend, felt his gaze keep sliding to her and realised water was in the glass and felt a wave of relief wash over him.
“Is everything all right, Spence?” asked Y/N.
Spencer didn’t answer, shaking his head and turning back to the others gathering, chatting around the richly set table. Hotch spoke to the others and suddenly, they all nodded.
“I’ll get the sauces Spencer couldn’t find. Could you please help me, guys? I doubt I will manage to carry all the bottles on my own.” asked Rossi and Morgan nodded.
Hotch, followed by JJ and the others disappeared into the small house. Y/N looked after them questioningly and a silent curse escaped her, knowing what Hotch was asking of her, wanting her to tell Spencer the news as soon as possible, but this was not how Y/N had imagined it.
"Spence?” Y/N whispered.
Y/N turned to Spencer. A warm breeze picked up and swept through her hair. His eyes rested on her. Slowly, almost as if she were afraid, Y/N turned to her lover and the moment their eyes met, Y/N caught sight of the joy in his gaze.
“You know, don’t you?” Y/N whispered.
The faint smile faded slowly from his lips, seeing the disappointment rooting in her watering eyes. He remembered the words she had said coated in the layer of fear and felt his heart ache in pain.
“I love you and I would never, never in my entire life, leave you and our little one. We may have never talked about it, but I want to be a father. The father of our child. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I just wanted to get something from the fridge, I didn’t want to, but then I heard everything.” Spencer replied.
His hands reached for hers, clasping her trembling fingers after he moved his chair closer to her. Gently, he brushed the tears coating her cheeks away. Loving words escaped Spencer in tender tones.
Tears were falling. Y/N listened to the words and did exactly what Spencer asked of her and settled on his lap. His right hand moved up her spine and pressed her head closer to his chest, allowing her to listen to the serenade of his heart. Spencer placed a kiss full of adoration, full of emotions, on her skin above her temple. His arms wrapped around her body, pressing her gently against his chest and promises Y/N was sure he would keep escaped him.
The lovers did not notice the glances upon them, but then the people in the house beyond the windows witnessed the answer to the questions they had been asking themselves, watching as Spencer’s hands resting on Y/N’s abdomen delicately caressed the appearing bump.
summary: early in y/n’s and spencer’s relationship, y/n fears the growing distance between them, although what seemed to be possible infidelity, is actually much worse–for spencer.
word count: 1,007 reading time: 4 mins
warnings: angst
a/n: HERE IS THE FINALE!!! I’ve had the most amazing time writing with the talented @goldentournesol. Steph is incredible and so creative, please show her some love! Hope you enjoy :)
I was afraid the chocolate he got me would taste sour, but it was luscious. I found comfort in the sweetness, just as I had found comfort in Spencer. It’s been a week since his confession. I also couldn’t help but feel a little ridiculous in my accusations. I had jumped to conclusions and couldn’t see the signs of my boyfriend in pain. The guilt ate away at me for a while, but Spencer let me know that he had been hiding it to the best of his ability. I eventually told him that I wanted to be the one he ran to when he was in pain. Both of us had our fair share of issues with vulnerability and insecurity, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t work through them together.
And so, here I sat, my head in his lap, his hand in my hair like all those weeks ago. This time, when our gazes met, there were no underlying feelings. No words left unsaid. The air was finally cleared and we could finally breathe. The air tasted sweeter somehow, now that I understood fully. The past week was not easy. Reconciliation was a bumpy road and I was not prepared for the ride. Spencer and I are stubborn, proud individuals. I had almost kicked him out of my apartment that night. I had almost ended the relationship right then and there. What else was I supposed to do when he’d said such vicious things?
But he’d seen the crack in my armor. The room was heavy with the guilt I felt and my subsequent tears were even heavier. The tears fell free before I could even tell them not to. His behavior made sense. I saw it then, he’d squint if the room was too bright and would often ask me to turn the TV volume down. His stories had become less animated, he had become less animated. He was going to sleep much earlier than he usually did. I should have caught on, but I just assumed that his long days had taken a toll on him. Spencer was no stranger to overworking himself.
He explained that he’d gone to countless doctors and I expressed how upset it made me that he was going through all that on his own. I could have been there for him, I could have supported him, but he wasn’t used to having someone to lean on. He was his own protection all his life, and I understood that. I made it clear that he had someone to lean on now, someone who loved him and looked after him.
The doctors had trouble diagnosing him so he referred to a renowned geneticist. She was one of the greatest minds in her field apparently. It was a she, after all, and she had a name. Maeve Donovan. It was easier to have a name. It personified her. She was less of an abstract being and more of a person. I thought about how much of my time and energy she’d unknowingly spent before I even knew who she was. Or I guess I was the one who’d spent it.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, looking up at Spencer, who was focused on the TV now. He finally had the weekend off after finishing a case in Wisconsin. I’d been tasked by Dr. Donovan to make sure that he’s getting at least eight hours of sleep each night. He’d been good at going to bed on time, his issue was with staying asleep more than going to sleep, anyway.
“I’ve been better, but to be honest, I’ve also been much worse.” He shrugged. Spencer’s eyes were never unkind, his soul was too kind to let them show anything other than that. Even now, his eyes were soft, even softer due to the dim light in my apartment.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I sat up to face him. I’d been doing my own research on migraines. Mostly how to relieve pain. Dr. Donovan also mentioned a series of supplements that he had to keep track of. I’ve made sure to incorporate more vitamin-enriched foods into our diet as well as made sure to keep him adequately hydrated.
I recognized the mischief in his eyes before he could even get a word out, “Actually, I think it’s time for my hourly dose of kisses.”
I threw my head back in a hearty laugh before cupping his face gingerly and bringing it closer to mine, “Who am I to deny you your medication?”
His grin was contagious, it went straight to my heartstrings and I felt weightless when he looked at me like that. His hands were perched on my waist and I brushed our noses together once before sealing our lips.
Together we lived in the clouds, sharing the same bubble. We’ve finally rebuilt the fantasy we had before, although this time a newfound trust had formed. However, that is not to say that everything was instantly perfect. Frankly, I think that the inexperience and the unknown is what gives beauty to this world, our world. To me, anything with him was perfect, no matter what the great philosophers say. But they were right in one aspect: defining voluntaryignorance.
The bliss I felt in our intimate space was addicting, it turned my brain into gullible mush. I didn’t want to believe that eternity didn’t exist. How can it not when it feels like this? I refuse to believe it. But harsh reality does not lie, it is only ourselves willing to fall for it. One day, Spencer’s arms would no longer be around me, and his lips would no longer brush softly against mine. The bubble would shatter like glass, the deception following suit. But for now, this lie was a silent agreement between Spencer and I. No matter the blissful ignorance we shared between us; no matter the ignorance of Spencer’s remaining lucidity, I knew this was the only lie we wished to be true.
summary: early in y/n’s and spencer’s relationship, y/n fears the growing distance between them, although what seemed to be possible infidelity, is actually much worse–for spencer.
What kind of life is lived when all you’re doing is waiting for the other shoe to drop? Waiting for the inevitability of cruelty? I stepped into a relationship with Spencer never expecting that I’d be waiting for the cord to snap. He led me into a cocoon of safety, one where I never doubted his motives. One I wasn’t sure I deserved.
Three little words can seemingly make or break a relationship, and the words Spencer had uttered confirmed that theory. However, unlike in most relationships–at least the fortunate ones, it wasn’t the three-word spectacle that symbolized the deep passion or confirmation of the shared sentiments. Instead, the dreadful trinity cut me deep, symbolizing the undoing of what we have–correction, had.
“It’s a date.”
I wish I could curse the air, scream into the sky, and stomp at the earth below me, but I couldn’t help but direct all malice to me.
What did she have that I didn’t? It must’ve been my intelligence. Everyday, Spencer was surrounded by the brightest minds–him outshining the rest, although his humbled self would always discredit that matter. With a considerate heart, he would mind voicing his opinions of people out loud, keeping to himself. However, there’s a significant distinction between publicly expressing your judgement and having internal thoughts, though unshared, still exist.
This baffled me, considering Spencer had always reassured me of this particular insecurity, suppressing the disquiet of my thoughts. Would he have lied? He seemingly excels at that, as of recent, among his other accolades. I would never admit it to him, but I would often find myself skimming through the books he loved–analyzing them so I’d better understand his mind or to offer a common topic. All the things I did for him to seem smarter in the past makes me look stupid now. The wasted effort should set every fiber of my being aflame and angered, however, all I can really feel is the doubt and self-resentment pricking at the walls of my chest.
All I can show for it are the blotched texture of my cheeks from incessant wet streaks, the suffocating push and pull of my throat, and the tautness of my muscles from the inability to move. On top of that, a heavy heart that carried the haunting spirit of a failure.
This disposition left me paralyzed on a Thursday night, alone in my apartment. The parallel left me with an incredulous expression. Just last week, I was on the precipice of my relationship without knowing it–senseless to the downward spiral that followed. What would I have changed, had I known this was going to happen? I tell myself this was all on him, but what if it isn’t? What if I led him to do this? To seek love and comfort in someone else.
Spencer’s been out of town for the last four days. I should have kept up with our nightly calls, but the truth is I couldn’t hear his voice without breaking down. His calls were left unanswered and I didn’t even know if that worried him or not. My insecurities had me by the throat and I just couldn’t shake them. Why was I dreading the day he returned? I’d seen his text messages, but hadn’t bothered to reply. I didn’t want him to know that I was festering in my own self-pity, so when I finally answered the call after he texted me to let me know that he was in town, I pretended I was someone else for it.
But then I thought…maybe, just maybe, it was all in my head. Maybe he wasn’t calling her as much as he was calling me, I didn’t even know if it was a her. I still thought that I might be desperate enough for his attention. So much so that I was willing to be the second option.
The phone call was short and dry, but I did my best to pretend that I was fine. He said he would take me out on a date tomorrow. It would be Friday, not Thursday. He said he was busy today and I didn’t ask him what he was doing, I had a feeling the knowledge would only cleave our relationship further. As tempting as it felt to pull away from him even more, I must admit that I missed him. I missed the way his nose scrunched when he was listening to me talk, I missed the way he’d always chime in with his facts and stories. I missed what we had and who we were before things started to change.
I forced myself to get ready for our date the next day. I circled around my apartment like a vulture circling around its prey, as if I’d find any motivation lying around, but it felt redundant so I stopped. I sat on my couch and nervously tapped away my anxiety until the doorbell rang throughout my apartment. Taking a deep breath, I made my way over to the door and opened it to see him holding a large bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. He’d never been one for grand gestures, and I’d never been one for flowers and chocolates, but from him, they were precious. I let myself accept them with a smile, even though the dread was eating me alive from the inside. Don’t cheaters and psychopaths buy gifts for their victims in a way to suppress their guilt? Did I just compare my boyfriend to a psychopath?
“What’s all this for?” I asked him after he greeted me with a kiss to my cheek. I put the flowers in a vase as he spoke, following me through the hallway and into my kitchen.
“Well, I felt bad for postponing our date and you sounded upset over the phone. I’m sorry I technically missed our date night.” Spencer said, tapping his fingers on my counter, waiting for my reaction. I surveyed him under my lashes. His remorse seemed genuine, but I was no profiler. I wouldn’t be able to catch his quirks as easily as he would.
I merely nodded, “Thank you, I love them.” I said, but the words felt like they were spoken from behind me, from someone else’s mouth. His eyes raked over me like they were assessing me, just as mine had a few moments ago.
“What?” I asked, trying my best to convey curiosity instead of acidity.
“Nothing, you just seem a bit on edge.” He said, smoothing a hand over his cardigan. My eyes followed his hand instead of meeting with his. His gaze felt sharp, even though I know he didn’t mean it that way.
“I’ve just been having a hard time at work.” I dismissed the conversation and quickly changed the subject, “So, are we ready?” He nodded, dropping it and we left my apartment.
The slight chill passing between the backs of our hands felt foreign to the skin. I guess I was so accustomed to the warmth and comfort enveloping the appendage that it felt like a phantom limb. I even miss the claminess of his fingers and how my own fit perfectly between the dips in his hand. However, it was difficult to reminisce with the penetrating thoughts of resentment and self-scolding in the back of my mind.
Every other step, Spencer would ask a shallow inquiry, in which I would reply with a mindless response. It’s like we reverted back to the naive touches and suppressed sentences in the beginning of our relationship. However this time, a tense air constricted the blood flow to our heads.
“So, what’s been going on at work?” he hummed, tilting his head towards me. Without meeting his analytical gaze, I responded with a mere quirk in the lips, suggesting a less than satisfactory experience. He nodded, sensing the imminent disinterest of the conversation.
While we walked on, I subconsciously laced my fingers togethers and observed the oscillating space between us. My feet staggered as I took a heavy interest in kicking stray pebbles and counting the cracks on the sidewalk. At this point, Spencer’s baffled yet indistinguishable expression had locked onto the side of my face. I would never mind his curiosity, but this time sent pins and needles shooting down my spine.
Unable to handle the suffocating air, I pushed the words off of my tongue and took a leap, “What did you do yesterday?” I sputtered out, cringing out how desperate and invasive I sounded; huffing, I rephrased my question to be less encroaching. Although why would that matter at this point? We’ve hit our climax, and we’re frankly teetering on the precipice.
“I had to deal with some family business,” he admitted breathlessly, a stutter undetectable in his words. I peaked at him from my disengaged stature, noticing the slight hilt in his voice was gone–a tell of dishonesty that was usually easy to spot. I guess he really did get better at it; they say continued practice makes perfect, right?
My head throbbed at the thought, and my nails dug into the surface of my fist. “Family business,” I nodded, not noticing the pure indignation evident in my tone. I hadn’t even realized that the phrase came out as a jesting scoff until Spencer had called my attention.
“Is something wrong?” He stopped suddenly, straying a few steps behind me as he waited. I could tell by the firmness of his voice that he was slightly annoyed by my reclusive behavior. Everyone had a limit, and Spencer wasn’t an exception to that.
I shook it off, finding my composure once again. I fought the bubbling feeling of impulsivity, the wanting to throw the whole world at him for deceiving me. I suppressed the desire to scream and yell, leaving them hidden in my imagination. I detested the way his eyes would scan over me in a mixed expression of pity and displeasure, adding onto the blaze inside my stomach.
“No.”
My delivery left me stunned, and hearing the tenacity and resolve in my voice was almost unheard of. Although it did set a culpable insecurity in mind, knowing that it sprang from a place of abhorrence and anger. The second the word fell breathlessly off my tongue, it rubbed Spencer the wrong way. We’ve had petty fights before, but as individuals we’ve always advocated for fighting the problem together rather than each other. I hate to admit it, but between the two of us, it wasn’t surprising that Spencer had a sound mind. At least, that’s what I knewof.
He took a deep breath, as if he were resetting himself and shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat, “Let’s just eat something.” Instead of fighting, I heard him add, but of course he didn’t actually say it.
-
I wish I had the privilege of saying that dinner was intense or full of passive-aggressive bickering but instead it was a suffocating silence, only broken by conversing with our server. The room shrunk to the size of an elevator, and the extravagant decor transformed into four silver surrounding walls. Despite being only 3 feet away from each other, our presence felt miles away. At one point, I even contemplated fabricating a convoluted excuse to leave abruptly but it was my pride that prevented me from doing so.
The walk back to my apartment was even more tense. Spencer’s breathing pattern was off. I couldn’t remember when I’d begun analyzing his breathing, but I could tell something was off. The second the door of my unit slammed shut, I knew I was trapped in a vulnerable position. Spencer leaned against the door, dissecting every movement I made. I felt scrutinized under his line of sight, my resolve shrinking into nonexistence while I bit my tongue.
He scoffed under his breath, throwing his coat and phone onto the side table by the entrance. “So are we going to talk about what happened, or frankly, the lack of anything happening back there?” He held a pointed gaze, shifting his weight onto his hip. His tongue swiped the bottom of his lip, patiently waiting for an answer.
A breath was caught in my throat, preventing me from getting any words out. I refused to face him, keeping myself busy by trying to find a place for my belongings. I knew I had to be wise with my next words, however, my impulsivity was, sooner than later, going to send me into a fit of combustion. I found myself teetering at the precipice once again, thinking back to the lies and excuses he shamelessly threw my way. On the other hand, I couldn’t help but confide in the sunlight of our past. With only a few more seconds of running oxygen, I sighed, mumbling a deflecting response, “There’s not really much to talk about.”
The soft bang against the door caught me off guard. Shock ran through me as I turned around with an incredulous expression. My stature unconsciously shriveled into itself in fright as Spencer’s fist slide from the oak door. My mouth hung open, frozen in state, unable to form coherent sentences. Never once had I seen Spencer express himself by physical means, let alone operate on his own anger. Maybe it was the present naivety that lingered in our relationship, but judging by the discreet upset shown on his face, he too was stupefied.
“What is going on with you lately?” I asked, looking at him with a certain level of incredulity. His mouth flew open as his brows rose to his hairline. The once tense hands dropped to his sides as he swiped a few hairs from his face.
He gestured to the air with a nonchalant figure before deflecting the question at hand. “I could ask you the same thing, Y/N.” I could hear the slight stagger in his tone, like he was holding a part of himself back. It must’ve been the adrenaline pumping through his veins from whatever affair he participated in. Frankly it made me question the integrity of his fib; how long was he going to hold out on me?
I couldn’t distinguish between the thoughts of Spencer possibly continuing this fib because of his cowardice or if Spencer truly thought I was too gullible. Both sent a blaze through me that attacked every piece of rationality I had left; it was as if shots of espresso were injected into my veins. Spencer’s elusive response hadn’t helped with the compelling sensation either, leaving me defenseless against my absurdity.
Although, to think of it, is it really illogical to be vexed by Spencer’s vague behavior?
“Me?! I’m not the one who’s being secretive.” I defended, my fists at my side.
“And how exactly am I being secretive, y/n?” Spencer raised his voice, an unfamiliar boom echoing throughout the room. “Please! Tell me ‘exactly,’ how I’m being secretive.” He responded like a petulant child, emphasizing simple words to enhance the condescension in his tone.
“Oh, so you think I haven’t noticed the calls? The way you hide your phone from my view when you get a notification? Do you really think I’m that stupid, Spencer?” I said.
“And, how is that exactly being secretive, y/n? I have my own business to attend to,” he defended. “Frankly, I think you’re the one overstepping here!” Spencer avoided the question per usual, unconsciously switching the scope to me. I felt a bubble rise in my throat, similar to the tightness I felt whenever I cried, however this time, it was from a place of malice.
“I am not overstepping because you are being secretive! I have no idea who you’re talking to! Where were you last week? Where were you yesterday?” I fought to keep my voice even.
“How is that even your business in the first place? You’re not my mother.” His voice cracked on the last syllable, almost undetectable to unknowing ears. He tried to brush it off, using intimidation to distract from the emotion crawling up his throat. Knowing Spencer, he did a rather exceptional job, although at this moment, I suspected a chink in his resolve.
“I don’t have to be your mother to know that something is wrong! Stop deflecting!” I blurted in a fit of frustration.
“You see, you keep trying to tell me that there’s something ‘wrong,’ with me! But there’s obviously some unresolved issue that you’re getting at here to be this upset!” He threw his hands into the air, shrugging his shoulders with an air of arrogance.
“God, do not twist my words here, Spencer Reid! I did not say that there was anything wrong with you, I said there was something wrong. Unresolved issue?! What the hell does that even mean?”
“You know for someone who’s claiming to be so perceptive of what’s ‘wrong,’ you’re really awful at being self-aware. I mean…the attitude, the distance, the–the closed off expression at dinner! I mean wh-what the hell was that!” He grimaced, biting the inside of his cheek as he finished his heated spiel.
I couldn’t help but scoff at his words. Me not being self-aware! “Oh, please. Ladies and gentlemen, a world class behavioral analyst!” I gestured to him sarcastically, like a ringmaster would with his gags, hoping that Spencer could realize how ridiculous he sounded. “You tell me why I was acting so strange!” I was livid, the words that came out didn’t seem to make any sense. I just wanted him to feel what I felt.
“Oh, I’m sorry! Let me play my part,” he pathetically bowed to me, exaggerating his movements. “Here, I’ll sit and do the things that you can’t, and practically feed into all your insecurity!” He mockingly laughed, “because that’s what this is all about right? You’re not getting enough attention?”
I groaned in frustration, “You are so infuriating!” I could feel the anger ripping its way through my skull.
“And you’re so invasive! All I needed was time and space to figure a few personal things out. I’m sorry that we’re not at a point in our relationship where I’m expected to tell you every bit of my life.” He pointed to himself with such ferocity, although it was the pure indignation in his eyes that sent a harsh chill into me. “I’m notcomfortablewithyou, and that’s that.”
I couldn’t ignore the way his words stabbed their way into my heart upon hearing them. They violently ripped open a cavern in my chest and settled there. My moment of hesitation must have caught him off guard and he reeled back slightly, as if aware of what he had said. The air in the room began to shift as the silence danced between us, taunting us.
Beyond my control, my lip quivered slightly as I stared at him, my eyes growing wetter by the second, “Is that…is that why you’re cheating on me?” I asked, my voice coming out shockingly small. I was never the best at showing my emotions and being vulnerable, but if he was going to break up with me, he had to do it now before the dam released.
His eyebrows cinched together, his mouth following suit. He turned his attention away from me, taking his head in the palm of his hands. The tips of his fingers rubbed at his temples while I stood there helplessly. It was as if my words were obsolete in his ears, getting lost in the thick air. His shoulders rolled back and his chest puffed; his eyes were also scrunched closed like he was tired of hearing my voice. “God, y/n,” he whispered, dropping his head, “can we not get into his right now?”
A ball had expanded in my throat, and the gates that fortified every tear I suppressed crumbled. My chest compressed and expanded at the same time, leaving me in an aching loop. “Did… Are you just…” I bit my lip as it continued to tremble, stifling the sobs crawling up my esophagus. I leaned my head back, diverting my attention to the ceiling to save the last bit of my composure.
Soon enough, the fire from before mixed with the saltiness of the fluid staining my cheeks. I had needed some part of me alive–I needed part of me to live for me. Nonetheless, that didn’t stop the constriction of my muscles, contrasting with the exhaustion coursing through my head. At this point, I didn’t know if I was going to fall or peak. I didn’t know if I was on that precipice again or if I was soaring into a disposition much worse.
It was poetic if you thought about it. The pain and exhaustion was my kerosene to an unforeseen ember. He sighed, reaching my prodding eyes once again, “I’m just… I’m getting a headache from all this.”
“Spencer fucking Reid, ladies and gentlemen.” I brought my middle fingers under my eyes, wiping away the pain and grime. I shook my head, biting my bottom lip but not biting my tongue. Not this time. “All you can fucking say is that… you have a headache?” I scoffed. “Well you know what Dr. Reid-”
“Y/N, we’re not getting into this.” He began to cower away, brushing past me to get to the kitchen. Gently pushing me aside, he dared not to look back at my provoked visage.
“No, let me talk” I asserted.
“You can talk however the hell you like, y/n.” Spencer turned around, shrugging his shoulders like an odd air of indifference. His head was still in his clutch, explaining his lack of eye contact. “But I sure as hell won’t be listening to you.”
“Funny how I’m causing you a fucking headache cause your mouth is doing the same damn thing to-”
“Y/N…”
“GOD, can you let me speak!” I huffed, feeling an overpowering shock shoot through my resolve. Sparks fused with the blood in my veins and the adrenaline felt like battery acid. I guess I was soaring rather than falling.
“Y/N, I really don’t want to get into this…” His voice went suspiciously soft, although I knew better than to let that hinder my determination.
“Why don’t you see a doctor then?” I spat, unbeknownst to the animosity tied to my words. “You know what?! Why don’t you fuck them too, since you’re on a damn roll!”
The air changed the second those words rolled off my tongue, however, I was unfortunately unconscious to the great shift. Spencer’s hand left his temple, and his head slowly raised to reach my eyeline. He held a blank expression, but by the indistinguishable twitch in his cheek, I knew his nonchalant demeanor dissipated.
“You don’t know a damn thing,” he mumbled in intimacy, like he was reassuring himself. “Maybe I should see a doctor–MATTER of a fact, I am seeing one,” he nodded mockingly, his eyes lined in a penetrating glare.
My heart sank at his words; the ground below me decayed, seemingly unable to support the withered organ. However, if I had known that the world, myworld, would collapse with an unsettling phrase that would follow, maybe I would’ve preferred falling off that peak after all.
“But I’m not fucking anyone, y/n. I never did.” The words left him breathless and gritted with every syllable, although that didn’t take away from the pure abhorrence towards me.
“I’m sick… Are you satisfied now? My mind is slowly deteriorating, my mother’s illness is slowly killing me,” he cried, “an-and all you care about is yourself.” His face fell to the floor, hiding the blotchy redness invading his cheeks. “Frankly, with whatever lucidity I have remaining… I would rather spend it on anyone better thanyou…”
Summary: This is a part two for Promposal, so read that if you haven’t!! Y/n and Spencer go to the prom that Y/n and Garcia have planned for the BAU team.
words: 1.4k
warnings: none to my knowledge, super cute and fluffy!
a/n: sorry this took a while, i’m getting ready to move in to college so i’ll probably be updating a little less frequently. let me know if you enjoy this though!!
Y/n feels Spencer’s strong hand holding hers as the two of them walk with Garcia to the Quantico parking lot. They made a quick pit stop in order for Spencer to change into the beautiful suit that the girls had picked out for him, and now they were on their way to Garcia’s, excitement thrumming under Y/n’s skin. Spencer doesn’t drive to work, so he and Y/n decide to drive together in Y/n’s car while Garcia drives her own. They wave to each other before getting into said respected cars. There’s a comfortable silence present within the small confines of Y/n’s car as she follows Garcia out of the parking lot, only broken when Spencer speaks for the first time since he had emerged out of the bathroom upstairs.
“Is it ridiculous that I’m really nervous for some reason? It’s like I’m the scared high schooler that I would have been had I gone to prom when I was younger, which is so silly.” Spencer turns his head to gaze out the window after admitting this.
“Oh Spence, it’s not silly. To be honest, I’m a little bit nervous as well. It’s not as much about the prom though, but the person…” Y/n blushes furiously, she hadn’t really meant to confess her feelings to Spencer, especially not so early in the evening, but it had kind of slipped out and well, now it was out there. Y/n focuses on the road in front of her, anxiously awaiting Spencer’s response which never seems to come, the comfortable silence now filled with tension that Y/n has no idea what to do with.
“You mean, you’re nervous about…me? Y/n, why would you ever be nervous about me! If anything, I should be nervous to spend time with you. I mean, you’re like the most gorgeous person…ever.” Spencer says softly, Y/n can feel his eyes on her even without turning her face away from the road.
“Spencer…I like you…a lot. That’s why I’m nervous for the prom. I’ll admit though, I’m a lot less nervous now that I’ve told you that.” The silence in the car once again changes, going from tense to filled with excitement.
“Y/n, I like you too! That’s why I’m so excited but also nervous for this evening. We are going to have such a good time though.” Spencer says and Y/n feels the rest of her nerves dissolve, immediately being replaced with extreme excitement as she pulls into Garcia’s driveway, seeing Garcia waving from outside of her own car.
“Well Spencer, welcome to prom.” Y/n says as Spencer gets out of the car and walks around to Y/n’s door to open it for her, what a gentleman.
“Welcome to your prom as well my dear.” Spencer says, Y/n notices the deeper tone his voice takes on and it sends a shiver up her spine, is this a hidden side to Spencer Reid? Y/n thinks she wants to find out. She exits the car and takes Spencer’s hand being offered to her, them making their way into the house, Garcia following practically squealing in delight at the sight of her two friends finally admitting their feelings for each other. They enter through the door and are immediately greeting with the other members of team all yelling
“Welcome to prom!”
Spencer looks around in bewilderment at the decorations that Y/n and Garcia had worked hard to put up in order to transform the room. Derek walks forward and places his hand on Spencer’s shoulder.
“Well pretty boy, you finally made it, and you’re a lucky man.” He says glancing at Y/n, she knows he’s just teasing Spencer, her and Derek are extremely close and they’re always taking shots at each other.
“Leave him alone Morgan.” Y/n responds casually, laughing with her friend.
“Alright my crime-solving friends of the BAU, we gather here tonight to celebrate prom, something our good doctor here was not able to experience because he’s smarter than all of us combined.” The team laughs, Y/n knew having Garcia be the DJ would be a good idea. “We’re going to play a slow song first, because that’s what it’s all about isn’t it, romanceeeeeee.” Y/n and Spencer glance at each other with light blushes on their faces as Garcia exaggerates the word romance, a word that has been on both of their minds all night. Slow music starts playing over the speakers and the team members begin to pair off to dance. Garcia and JJ begin to dance, as well as Morgan and Emily, while Hotch opts to stand to the side and drink a cup of punch, often choosing to be the stoic team leader even when he’s allowing himself to have fun.
“Will you dance with me Spencer?” Y/n says and Spencer automatically nods, following her to the middle of the floor where their friends are. Spencer places his hand around Y/n’s waist and they place their hands on each other’s shoulders, beginning to sway to the music. They’re looking into each others eyes and their friends seem to disappear. “I didn’t know you were such a dancer Spencer.” Y/n says teasingly, but Spencer really is quite a bit more graceful than she had expected.
“Only because I’m dancing with the most beautiful girl in the room.” He says, smiling shyly. Way too early, the slow song ends and more upbeat music begins, the team dancing and having fun for a prolonged period of time, getting lost in the nostalgic joy of being in high school, enjoying their time with their friends and forgetting about the horrid scenes they are accustomed to seeing on a daily basis. After a while, Garcia makes her way back up to the DJ booth
“Alright you kids, it’s the moment we’ve all been waiting for, it’s time to see who our prom king and queen are!” Spencer looks at Y/n in surprise, not expecting this. “Drum roll everyone…our prom king is our very own Dr. Spencer Reid!! And our prom queen is Agent Y/n Y/l/n!” The team members all clap as Spencer and Y/n walk up to Garcia to get their totally real crowns that Y/n and Garcia totally didn’t buy at party city. “Now the king and queen will have their first dance, clear the floor for the happy couple please.” Spencer and Y/n make their way to the center of the room once again and they begin to sway to the music as they had done earlier in the evening. Spencer leans forward to whisper in Y/n’s ear.
“You look so beautiful Y/n, I can not say it enough, thank you so much for putting this all together, I’m the luckiest man in the world.” Y/n smiles, she usually gets embarrassed rather quickly, but dancing here with Spencer in front of all their friends, she feels extremely safe.
“It was my pleasure Spencer, getting to spend an entire night with you, how could I turn that down, I’m so glad you had fun.” Before long the dance is over and it’s sadly time for the BAU team to call it a night as it’s getting late. They say their goodbyes and thank yous to Garcia for hosting the party, making their way out to their cars. Y/n and Spencer begin their short drive to Spencer’s apartment, they don’t speak on the way there, but it’s that comfortable silence once again, comfortable like a warm blanket that Y/n wants to wrap around herself and sink into. When they arrive Y/n gets out of the car to walk with Spencer up to his door.
“Thank you again Y/n, it was a perfect night but uh, there is one thing that would make it more perfect, can I kiss you?” Y/n smiles, leaning forward and gently placing her lips on Spencer’s. He gives a small noise of surprise but then sinks into the kiss, placing his hand on Y/n’s shoulders as they continue kissing. They pull away reluctantly, as they are standing outside of Spencer’s apartment in formal wear kissing at 11 pm on a Friday, it’s probably a strange look to anybody passing by.
“Goodnight Spencer, have an amazing night.” Y/n says before turning to return to her car.
“Text me when you get home sweetheart.” Spencer says, watching the beautiful woman in front of him as she retreats away from his building. Y/n is driving home lost in her thoughts. She was right, this definitely is the start of something absolutely magical.
Summary: One day Derek teases Spencer about never going to prom in high school and fellow team member, Y/n, decides to plan a surprise to make up for the experience he never had.
words: 1.1k
warnings: none to my knowledge, super fluffy!!
a/n: I wanna write a part 2 to this of the actual prom because this is just the promposal! I hope you guys enjoy! Also thank you for 200 followers!!! :)
“Hold on Prentiss, let me get this straight, you never went to prom?” Derek Morgan’s too-loud for nine a.m. voice echoes throughout the bullpen one Tuesday morning.
“Well duh Derek, prom doesn’t really exist in Europe, it’s a pretty American tradition.” Emily responds matter-of-factly, barely looking up from the endless stack of paperwork from their most recent case.
“What’s the big deal with prom anyway? I didn’t go either.” Spencer adds, spinning around in his wheely-chair from where his desk is across the room.
“Oh what a surprise! The kid genius didn’t go to prom? I’m shocked!” Derek says in a mocking tone, causing Spencer’s face to fall almost unnoticeably, well, unnoticeably if you’re not Y/n Y/l/n.
“Oh leave him alone Morgan, I’m sure you had a great prom experience at 18, when Spencer had already gotten a doctorate.” Y/n jumps into the conversation to Spencer’s defense, causing the other members of the team to laugh, Emily asking Derek if he needs some ice for that burn.
“Not that it’s any of your business Y/n, I did have a great time at prom. Me and my girlfriend at the time, we-”
“Round table room, new case you guys!” JJ yells from above the bullpen, thankfully interrupting Derek from telling another of his too much information stories. They all walk up the stairs but Y/n lingers back for a moment, her mind unable to forget the slight flicker of emotion that had crossed Spencer’s face when Derek had mentioned him never getting to experience prom. If Y/n’s being completely honest, she’s had a bit of a crush on the young Dr. since she had joined the team almost a year ago now and she’s not completely sure, but she thinks she’s noticed a few extra glances and blushes from him whenever she’s around. An idea starts to form in her head, but she’s going to need help, so this will have to wait until after whatever new gruesome case JJ has found for them.
1 week later
Y/n walks into the BAU the morning after the team gets back from Boston and she looks over to see Spencer doing a crossword inhumanely fast at his desk. He turns and waves at her to say good morning and she smiles back at him, all of a sudden remembering her idea from the previous week. Y/n takes her phone out when she gets to her desk and pulls up texts with Garcia.
Garcia, wanna help me surprise Spencer with something? I have a cute idea! Text me back asap! Y/n barely puts her phone on the desk when it’s buzzing with text messages from the extremely tech-savvy analyst who comes running at even the merest mention of a cute surprise.
“So let me get this straight? You want to take Spencer to prom because he never experienced it when he was younger? That’s so sweet of you Y/n! Where do you want to have the prom? Can we do it at my house! I want to decorate!!”
“Of course we can have it at your house! We should get the whole team to come to prom! This is going to be so fun!” Y/n starts getting more and more excited about her idea, trying to push down the nerves that maybe Spencer won’t be into this idea at all, won’t be into her at all. They decide to have the prom on Friday, it being Tuesday and them having an extremely unpredictable job, it’s probably better they plan it quickly before a new case can come up and ruin everything. Y/n then begins planning one of the more important parts of prom, the promposal. Classically in the past the man is the one proposing but with a big f u to patriarchy, Y/n is going to plan the best promposal ever for Spencer! Throughout the week Y/n and Garcia tell the rest of the team members and they all seem excited for the BAU prom, even Hotch, who laughs at the idea but agrees to join in on the fun. They decorate Garcia’s apartment with lights and streamers to transform the quirky space into a high school auditorium perfect for prom. On Friday morning Y/n wakes up shockingly nervous, she sees her “prom” dress hanging in the corner and lets her insecurities take over for just a moment. What if Spencer doesn’t like her after all? What if he thinks this entire idea is stupid? What if he doesn’t like her dress? She shakes her head and gets out of bed, this day is going to be perfect. It’s a normal day at work, except for the winks the other members of the BAU team stealthily give to Y/n throughout the day, and before she knows it it’s time for the big surprise. The team leaves earlier than usual to allow for Y/n to be alone with Spencer.
“Hey Spencer, can you help me with something before we leave.” Y/n says from behind the doorway, wearing her dress and holding the sign that she had designed with Garcia.
“Sure thing Y/n! What do you need?” Spencer says sweetly, always willing to help her. Y/n takes a deep breath and steps out from behind the door, Spencer’s mouth automatically falling open in immediate confusion then realization.
“So, um, Spence, Derek was teasing you last week about never going to prom and it made me feel a little sad so I was um wondering, will you go to prom with me Dr. Spencer Reid?” Y/n knows she’s blushing and silence that fills the room after she asks the question seems to last forever.
“Y/n, this is- I don’t even have the words to express, this is so sweet of you! I don’t think I have an appropriate outfit though.” He says and Garcia walks out from behind the doorway, holding a suit that matches Y/n’s dress perfectly, smiling giddily at the shocked look that shows on Spencer’s face.
“I thought of that already Spencer, it’s all taken care of, we’re going to go to Garcia’s apartment and have prom with the rest of the team, that is, if you want to?
“Of course I want to Y/n, thank you so much! This is so unbelievably sweet!” Spencer envelopes Y/n in one of his signature hugs at this moment, his arms tight around her as he whispers thank you into her ear one more time. Y/n might be wrong, but this kind of seems like the start of something magical.
Summary: Spencer Reid has never been the biggest fan of technology, until he starts dating Y/n, who just happens to love technology a little too much.
words: 1.1k
warnings: Spencer Reid wasting money? nothing else to my knowledge!
a/n: this is honestly such a crack fic that I just thought was a silly idea haha
Spencer Reid had never been “normal”. As a little boy he had pushed aside the “traditional” interests of most of the little boys in Las Vegas. His father had pushed him to play baseball, get into sports, but Spencer would rather have locked himself in his bedroom and master calculus than step out on that field and hit a ball with a bat, feeling it was the most primitive form of entertainment that he had no interest in whatsoever. Spencer loved models of the solar system, he loved dictionaries and books of all sorts, but there was one thing in particular that Spencer Reid simply did not like.
Ever since Spencer Reid was a little boy he didn’t like technology all that much. Sure, it was helpful and allowed for new discoveries in science and about every other field out there, which Spencer Reid obviously supported, but he just never liked technology all that much. His team knew about his aversion to all things technological, and when Garcia had splurged on new tablets for each of the members, Spencer had opted for good old pen, paper, and printed pictures.
Then Spencer Reid met Y/n, the newest member of the BAU who every member of the team, especially Spencer, had found themselves completely enamored with as soon as she joined the team. Just months into Y/n’s employment with the BAU, she and Spencer had begun dating and within a year moved in with each other, the relationship moving fast but the two of them completely in love with each other. Y/n Y/l/n loves technology, she loves playing online games, she loves reading ebooks, something Spencer Reid would never be on board with, paper books are better! Which they’ve argued a million times about of course. She loves doing research online in order to expand her knowledge, and most of all, Y/n loves online shopping. The entire team loves to make jokes about their youngest team member’s obsession, Morgan had even put together an intervention for her when they found out just how much online shopping she was doing per week. At first, Spencer Reid tried to get his girlfriend to stop her addiction, I mean, how many clothes does the girl need? Spencer thinks she looks perfect in anything she puts on so he honestly doesn’t really understand why she needs new outfits all the time. Then Y/n had bought some lingerie and okay maybe Spencer starts to see the appeal of online shopping, but he would never ever admit that to anyone, not even Y/n. So looking back on Spencer’s history with technology and his aversion to the habits of his beloved girlfriend, no one is more surprised than Spencer himself when he finds himself entering the fourth hour of online shopping one Saturday night when Y/n had gone over to Garcia’s house to hang out with the girls of the BAU team.
He had picked up Y/n’s computer because her birthday was coming up and as much as he doesn’t like anything related to online shopping, he loves his girlfriend so much more, so he decided he should buy her something for her birthday. He had started browsing the stores he knew Y/n liked and all of a sudden it was like a switch tripped in Spencer’s brain, there’s so much stuff online! So much stuff to buy! He buys Y/n a dress that he knows she’ll love and he’ll love to see on her, he buys her a new case for her laptop as she had been complaining about her broken case when they have to travel so much for work, and he buys her a new go-bag, something that they always need when, once again, the couple are almost always traveling for their vigorous jobs at the BAU. Then he starts seeing items that oh no he most definitely does not need but yes he does. Who needs an air fryer? Spencer Reid and Y/n need an air fryer that’s who, Spencer never knew they were so versatile! He can make so many things so quickly, which will come in handy when him and Y/n are always rushing out the door somewhere.
Then Spencer enters the dangerous world of Halloween decorations. Oh my lord, it being the end of August, Spencer is anxiously awaiting the onset of his absolute favorite time of the year, therefore he buys Halloween decoration after Halloween decoration until the cart is filled with masks to scare Morgan with at work, candy to give out granted the two are home this Halloween, and fake cobwebs to decorate their apartment as well as the BAU office if he can get away with it, Hotch might not be on board with transforming the bullpen into a spooky wonderland. There’s also the huge amount of clothes that Spencer finds himself buying, he doesn’t put too much thought into his clothes, but he likes to think he looks professional at work, so he finds himself buying a whole variety of ties, and socks, because Spencer Reid hates wearing matching socks and they have so many fun patterns of socks online, who knew! He also begins shopping for Christmas, four months early but Spencer Reid definitely isn’t deterred by that fact.
All of a sudden Spencer starts yawning a bit and he looks at the clock, it being almost two o’clock in the morning at this point and Spencer starts giggling. Spencer Reid doesn’t do this, he hardly ever uses technology except for when Garcia works her magic to solve a case for them, Spencer Reid certainly doesn’t online shop, but here he is with over $500 worth of random online items. Spencer places his orders before he can use his brain to convince himself it’s not a good idea to buy a bunch of items he definitely doesn’t need, then he shuts Y/n’s laptop and throws it across the bed, feeling like it had attacked him, had he been hypnotized? Spencer Reid gets ready for bed and texts Y/n goodnight, before falling asleep extremely quickly, embarrassingly worn out by his ventures online. Spencer honestly feels like his adventures of online shopping had been just a dream.
Y/n comes back and the next day they’re called to Houston to solve yet another serial killer case, so the items Spencer had bought online fade to the very back of his mind. They’re walking up the stairs to their apartment when Spencer sees the boxes, there are probably ten huge boxes ands bags from assorted stores in front of their door. Y/n starts laughing, her laugh getting more intense until she can barely breathe.
“Spence?” she gasps out, “you want to tell me about your activities online?” she says still laughing. Spencer sighs and face palms, he is never going to live this down, that’s for sure.
Summary: The BAU team decides to go to a Halloween festival and Y/n, Spencer’s girlfriend, wants to visit a haunted house with him. Unfortunately for Spencer, he’s terrified of haunted houses.
words: 1.3k
warnings: none to my knowledge, Spencer gets scared but there’s nothing angsty really, it’s really fluffy :)
a/n: maybe it’s kinda weird to write a halloween fic in the middle of july but whateverrr Spencer is definitely the type of person to celebrate halloween all year long, hope you enjoy!!
Spencer Reid loves Halloween. Anyone who’s ever spent more than a day with the guy could tell you that, he’s a fiend for the spookier time of the year. Some may speculate his love of the season is derived from him being a Scorpio, but Spencer Reid had never been the biggest fan of astrology. Most likely Spencer’s love for Halloween stemmed from his insecurities mixed with his child-like excitement for the history of the holiday. In Spencer’s own words, “That’s the best thing about Halloween, you can be anyone you wanna be!” So, no matter the reason, Spencer Reid loves Halloween. Ironically though, one thing Spencer Reid definitely doesn’t love, is the dark.
“C’mon Spence! Let’s go in the haunted house! This is so fun!” Y/n, Spencer’s best friend and since only a few months ago, girlfriend, yells from across the crowd, where the rest of the BAU stands. It had been Garcia who originally proposed the idea of the annual Halloween festival to the team, and everyone had quickly agreed, even Hotch. So that’s how Spencer has found himself in this current predicament, there’s a small small tiny itty bitty chance that Spencer has been terrified of haunted houses since he was just a little boy in Las Vegas. He knows it’s laughable, his coworkers will attest to the fact that Spencer will run into a burning building to save a victim, and he’s been known to take his FBI vest off in hazardous situations more times than his team can count, so in what world does that brave man get squeamish about the prospect of walking into a haunted house with his girlfriend. Spencer feels trapped between a rock and a hard place, he can’t refuse to go into the haunted house because he might risk seeming like an uninterested boyfriend and that’s the last thing he would ever want to do in this blossoming relationship that has already brought him some of the best memories of his lifetime, but he also can’t admit in front of the entire team that he’s afraid. He doesn’t want Morgan teasing him for the rest of his life like that time they got stuck in an elevator together and honestly Morgan still brings it up whenever there’s an elevator on the case. So Spencer needs to make a rash decision, a decision that entails him having to suck it up for a few minutes and walk through the god damn haunted house. Spencer plasters on a relatively fake smile, he can never be truly fake smiling when his beautiful girlfriend is holding his hand and giggling, but he isn’t the most excited he’s ever been that’s for sure. Spencer and Y/n walk into the haunted house and are immediately plunged into darkness, darkness that makes Spencer’s breath go out of his lungs, the loss of light making his anxiety spike.
“You alright Spence, you’re squeezing my hand pretty tightly baby.” Y/n’s voice alerts Spencer to the fact that he is indeed almost crushing her hand within his own, he didn’t even realize he had increased the pressure.
“Oh Y/n, I’m sorry! Ya I’m fine don’t worry, I didn’t even realize I was holding you so tightly.” Spencer tries to give a reassuring smile to Y/n before realizing obviously she can’t see him due to the absolute darkness the two are submerged in. They continue walking and a crudely drawn mask pops out of the darkness with a burst of smoke, causing Y/n to jump a little and laugh while Spencer gasps audibly and feels his heart beat spike dangerously once again.
“This is so silly! I love haunted houses!” Y/n expresses, still laughing from the ridiculous mask that had popped out in hopes of scaring them. Spencer is honestly a bit glad for the darkness in this moment to hide from the embarrassment that something as stupid as this could startle him so badly. A scratchy tape of spooky growling rumbles up from somewhere ahead of them and Spencer has to force his feet to continue walking towards the sound. In a normal situation the noise would be laughable, but paired with the darkness it’s unsettling. Spencer clears his throat and tries to speak in the least shaky voice he can.
“This is laughable” he says lightly, trying to show he’s not scared of a pesky little haunted house.
“Don’t lie to me Spence, I know you’re secretly terrified, nothing scarier than a record tape of growling!” Y/n’s joking but it’s true, there’s nothing scary about the sound and the fact that it’s scaring Spencer is ridiculous. Spencer giggles awkwardly and nods before once again realizing she can’t see him. See this is why he doesn’t like the dark, besides the fact that it’s human nature to dislike the absence of light and the mysteries that may be hidden under the veil of darkness, Spencer doesn’t like darkness because as someone who talks using his hands and head to communicate often, he feels very inadequate in this moment in the dark. They continue walking around a corner when a man dressed as some sort of ghoul jumps out in front of them, causing Spencer to yelp in surprise and jump across the hallway, feeling immediately embarrassed. Y/n must realize at this point that Spencer isn’t joking because even though they’ve only been dating for a few months, they were best friends for close to two years before and Y/n is Spencer’s crime solving partner as they always playfully call each other.
“Spence, tell me the truth, are you okay?” Y/n says, reaching around in the dark for Spencer’s hand which she had let go of when he jumped in surprise just a moment earlier. Her voice is softer than it had been earlier and Spencer finds himself relaxing slightly at the sound of it.
“I gotta tell you Y/n, I’m terrified of haunted houses, it’s so silly, I’m an FBI agent but I’m absolutely terrified of something as silly as this, I’m sor-”
“Oh Spencer why didn’t you tell me! Never apologize for being scared of something, I never would have forced you into this silly house if I had known!” Y/n feels extremely guilty in this moment and she wishes she could sit Spencer down and give him a hug right now but they both know they have to continue walking through the house or else they will never get out and that’s the last thing Spencer wants.
“We’re almost there baby, squeeze my hand as hard as you need to and we’ll get through this together, I’m not going anywhere.” Y/n’s kind words give Spencer the courage to continue walking through the house and he feels much lighter after confiding in his girlfriend, the rest of the house seems much less scary. As they finally exit about five minutes later, the lights from the other attractions as well as the moon overhead light up Spencer and Y/n’s faces and Spencer takes in a deep breath of relief at the reappearance of light. Spencer grabs both of Y/n’s hands as soon as they get out of the house.
“Y/n, thank you so much, I honestly could not have done that without you, thank you for being there for me. I love you Y/n” Y/n’s face lights up when she hears the three word phrase she had been waiting for the right moment to say to Spencer.
“I will always be there for you Spence, I love you.” She replies back lovingly and leans up to kiss Spencer quickly, his hand coming up to caress her face slightly.
“Alright lovebirds I didn’t know a haunted house could be so romantic! Let’s go get some food before they sell out!” Morgan’s voice interrupts the couple, the rest of the BAU team coming around the corner. Y/n and Spencer share a side smile and laugh before intertwining their hands together once more and following their friends. Spencer Reid loves Halloween, even when he gets a little bit spooked.
A/n: this is just a little something because i’m super busy but here we are because 1. Dad!Spence and 2. this is his episode like he looks so unbelievably pretty i wanna cry
Summary: Just a little blurb about right after Daisy Reid is born
Pairing:Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (fluff)
Content Warning: set in a hospital | couple of references to sex
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“Are you tired, my love? It’s late. Or rather early.” Spencer’s raspy voice comes from the chair next to the bed you were laying in. He sounded so tired, like the way you were feeling.
You glance at your phone to check the time. 4:43 AM. Your eyelids feel heavy, much heavier than they’d ever felt during your time at the BAU. All the hours awake chasing down serial killers didn’t exhaust half as much of your energy.
You half nod at him trying to use the least amount of energy as you possibly could. “Yeah, incredibly. I was in labor for 14 hours.” You laugh a little, before stroking the tiny child’s cheek. She was just so beautiful, and everything you had ever wanted; a delicate baby. From the look that had been on Spencer’s face for the last 18 hours, when you were not looking your best, it was all he wanted, too.
“You did so well, darling.” His hand creeps over onto yours, and strokes Daisy’s tiny foot, covered by pink socks with unicorns. “She’s so perfect and just so little.” He said, concern filling his voice at how much he needed to protect this baby. His eyes were getting glassy again, filled with the love he had for his baby.
“I know. And she’s so calm. I thought she would be crying and screaming.” You agree, looking up into Spencer’s eyes. He smiles and places a gentle kiss on your hand. “I’m so excited to take her home and dress her up, literally everyone has brought dresses for her.” You say, thinking about the presents you got from the baby shower. and all the other presents you knew you’d be getting soon.
Spencer chuckles lightly. “Mm, Penelope always said she was going to spoil her, but I greatly underestimated her generosity.” The nursery wardrobe back at your place was filled with toys from a shopping trip you guessed she’d taken with Rossi. Every possible style and every color of the rainbow. “I’m just so happy, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” He says, and you see the glassy eyes of your husband that you love so much.
You raise your eyebrows. “Hey. What about when we met and the day when we got married, you dork?” You ask him.
At your mock reprimand, he clenches his teeth. “Yeah, well today and when we got married were the best days. The day we met wasn’t. I was so awkward and you were dating that other guy, I don’t really care what his name was.” You laugh at the fact that Spencer refused to say his name, he never liked him. Looking back on the last 5 years of your life surprised you with how far you’ve come. Spencer and now Daisy were the best things to come out of it. “But as for Daisy, she’s not dating until she’s 20 at least.” He promises, looking at the little girl.
You roll your eyes, hitting his shoulder. “You’re sounding toxic, Spence. Just because you weren’t having sex until you were, like, 30 doesn’t mean she can’t.” You joke, laughing at the quip before he could form a retort.
“Be quiet.“ He complains, throwing his head back on the seat. "I had sex before I was 30.” He claims, making you laugh more even though you knew it was true.
You yawn and cover your mouth with the hand you weren’t using to hold the baby. “Here, darling. Give her to me and I’ll hold her. You need some sleep.” He requests, taking Daisy out of your hand.
“Thank you, Spence. And thank you for always being there. ” You smile over at him as you get settled into the hospital bed. “Daisy is lucky to have to best dad in the whole world.” You gush to Spencer who was sitting there holding Daisy with so much concentration. Something about the pregnancy hormones just made you want to talk about how much you loved Spencer.
“You’re the one that did all the work, I just sat here.” He laughs, taking his eyes off her for a moment to send you a smile. You knew he did more than that, being as involved in your labor as he could.
“I just love you, Spence.” You tell Spencer who leans over and kisses you gently.
“I just love you, Mrs. Reid.” He replies before turning back to Daisy, noticing you were almost asleep. “And I love you so much, my little Baby Reid.”
Summary: After dinner turns into talk about children, reader starts to panic that their older boyfriend Spencer will not want to wait for them to be ready. He reassures them that this couldn’t be further from the truth.
A/N: I think I’m going to do an unofficial prequel to this about how Spencer and reader met! Thanks so much to the anon that requested this :) please let me know what you think!
The clink of cutlery was barely audible over the chatter of conversation. The dinner itself had been delicious, you had been reliably informed that Savannah had certainly not made it, and the wine had been perfectly paired. Meeting Spencer’s best friend had felt like such a big, scary step but Morgan had made you feel so welcome it was hard to see why you had been so nervous.
As the plates had emptied, Spencer so kindly offered to help Savannah with the dishes and incidentally left you fend for yourself with his best friend. His hand squeezed your shoulder as he passed behind you, encouraging eyes warm as he left you in your seat. Suddenly awkward, despite the amicable air, you smiled down at your hands instead of trying to make conversation. The age gap between you and the rest of the group was not striking but it was at least noticeable and you were terrified of saying something that could label you as childish.
Luckily, Morgan was social enough for the both of you. “So, how’d you meet pretty boy?”
Smiling at the memory, you took a sip of your merlot before responding with a wistful smile. “Well, I’m one of the IT techs at the university-“ you cut yourself off as he immediately began to laugh.
When he recovered himself, he asked with a smirk and a raised brow. “Let me guess… you got called to help Dr Technophobe with his email?”
You laughed noisily as you nodded, although you managed to add the detail; “the first time it was his printer actually.”
“The first time,” he repeated, eyebrows raised, “how many times are we talking?”
Eyes darting to the kitchen door as Spencer reappeared, you responded quietly as though your boyfriend wouldn’t hear. “The first week I think I saw him eight or nine times.”
Immediately catching onto the conversation, he sighed and corrected you despite Morgan’s laughter drowning him out. “Actually it was ten times.” In an attempt to defend himself against Morgan’s lighthearted ridicule, he continued, “and the last time I didn’t even need your help I just wanted to see you.”
“You didn’t need my help?” You asked dubiously, “when the photocopier was making that emergency alert noise?” Morgan’s laughter doubled.
Spencer’s voice raised in pitch as he defended himself, “that was the ninth time and that definitely wasn’t my fault.”
“I didn’t even know copiers could make that noise, Spencer, it must have been your fault.”
Waving a hand in the air, he dismissed that statement and you rolled your eyes with a giggle. “Anyway,” he stressed, “the tenth time there was nothing actually wrong - I told you I was struggling with my email but really I just wanted to ask you for coffee.”
Your cheeks took on a red glow as you remembered that day, “oh yeah.”
Morgan seemed entirely amused and proud all at once. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Dr Reid.”
In response, Spencer merely shoved his hands in his pockets with a shrug but sent an almost shy smile your way.
This jovial atmosphere remained throughout dessert, the house never falling silent due to the laughter bouncing off the walls. You were surprisingly at ease. To begin with, concern had flooded you that you would have nothing to say and would come across as just some naive girl making doe eyes at an older man. But Spencer had silently reassured you throughout, encouraged you to join in the conversation, and made you feel like you belonged there.
You felt fantastic, entirely relieved, the night had gone smoothly with no hiccups. Well, until the pair of you were at the door saying your goodbyes at least.
The baby monitor crackled suddenly into action, a whining cry sounding through the static making you jump. Morgan and Savannah shared a tired yet humoured look. “Your turn,” Morgan told her, dipping his head closer to her with a smirk.
Savannah, with a huffing laugh, rolled her eyes with a “yeah, yeah.” Turning to you and Spencer, she gave you with a smile and a warm “thanks so much for coming! It’s nice to have some adult company once in a while.”
You thanked her but you doubt she heard you over Morgan’s dramatic scoff. “Woman, I’m an adult.” He pointed at his chest as though to specify who he was talking about.
She gave him a long look, a pout pulling at her expression before she broke into a laugh. “Sure you are, Derek.” A last smile to you and Spencer, and she rushed off to allay the now screaming child.
You winced as a particularly high pitched cry squeaked through the monitor. “Better get used to that sound,” Morgan told you off-handedly as he held the door open, “that’s gonna be you two next.” He laughed as though you should laugh alongside him, and so - for the sake of politeness - you did. It was more a squeak than a laugh as the sound caught in your throat as you processed what he had said.
You were terrified to look up at your boyfriend’s reaction. What if he were jovially agreeing with his friend’s words, what if a spark of excitement had lit up his gaze?
Of course you already knew that Spencer wanted kids, you had been together long enough to have delved into that particular discussion. You had assured him that you wanted them too and so, realising you were in agreement, the pair of you hadn’t spoken on it any further. You realised now, all of a sudden in Derek Morgan’s doorway of all places, that you had never thought to discuss a timeline with Spencer.
He was older than you, in an entirely different phase of his life, surely he would want them sooner rather than later.
Finally, the pair of you escaped the house. Waving a goodbye to Morgan, you rushed to the car and fumbled with the keys as you tried to open the door. The keys jangled musically before thudding dully to the pavement.
A light touch on your arm stilled your jerking motion to pick them up. “I got it,” Spencer told you, already half crouched to collect the keys. “I can drive?” He offered lightly.
“Thanks,” you nodded, breathless in your quiet panic.
The drive itself was quiet. Silence was no stranger to you and Spencer, but it was usually a silence bathed in comfort and quiet belonging. This silence was entirely different; heavy with your insecurities and punctuated by the gnaw of your nails between your teeth.
Spencer, the behavioural analyst that he was, clearly noticed your agitation. A warm hand settled upon your thigh as you came to a stop at a red light. His thumb swiped lightly over the skin there and pressed just enough comfort into you to allow your thoughts return to coherency.
Fixing your gaze upon him, you felt the usual affection bubble through you as your eyes traced the wash of neon red light bathing his features. You loved this man, more than you had ever thought possible. You wanted everything with him, kids included, but… just not yet.
Noticing your fixation upon his features, he turned a brief gaze to you despite the light bathing him now turning green. Softly, as though worried he would scare you off, he asked; “you okay?”
You lips parted, a sullen and dishonest ‘yes’ forming on your tongue, but you stopped yourself. You felt so lucky to have Spencer and to begin with you had continually hidden your fears and feelings from him in fear of somehow pushing him away. You had quickly learnt that this made neither you nor Spencer very happy. In aid of that past epiphany, you told him the truth. “No, not really.”
Spencer didn’t get angry, didn’t get annoyed or offended, didn’t hold anything against you. Instead, Spencer nodded calmly, pulled into an empty parking lot, clicked the car into park, and looked to you patiently.
He didn’t push you to tell him everything instantly, he sat calmly with an open expression and waited. Taking a deep settling breath, you sorted through your thoughts and started to speak. “I love you, Spencer.” You assured him. Considering the way his eyebrows pulled together and fear twisted his expression you realised it was probably the worst way to start. It sounded like the beginning of a breakup which was the opposite of your intention. “I’m not breaking up with you!” You almost shouted in your hurry to calm his fears. Relief settled his shoulders instantly and he nodded for you to continue.
Your hands were wringing together in your lap as you continued. “It’s just… what Morgan said.”
One hand on the wheel, he turned as much as the car allowed to face you. “About having kids?”
Nodding emphatically, entirely relieved that he knew exactly what was on your mind, you twisted in your seat towards him. “I just… I’m only 26.”
“I know.” He told you, with a strange little laugh indicating he wasn’t entirely sure why that detail was relevant.
“Well… I do want kids, Spencer, you know I do but… I’m only26.”
It was a quiet for a long while as his gaze settled on the middle distance. Tone filled with uncertainty, he tried to confirm what exactly was bothering you. “Are you… worried I’m not going to want to wait for you to be ready?”
You didn’t verbally reply, afraid to confirm this out loud, but you nodded with your gaze stuck on your lap.
His fingers drummed against the wheel and you couldn’t help your gaze from darting to the motion. From there, it was impossible to keep your gaze from his features. Thoughtfulness had overtaken them, eyebrows pulled together as he looked over you. Eventually, he carefully formulated his response. “Honestly,” you gulped in response, “I would love to have kids now or-or soon at least.” You almost shrunk back into your seat in disappointment but you tried your best to remain strong. “But,” he added in a slight panic, watching the badly hidden sadness quickly overtake you, “what I would love more is for you to be their mother.”
Looking at him through your lashes, you whispered out; “are you sure?”
“Yes.” He told you simply but, because it was Spencer he couldn’t help but to add; “the physical and social impact of pregnancy and child rearing is significantly greater for mothers than fathers. On average it’s estimated that women who give birth before-“
You cut him off with an almost panicked giggle and a hand gripping his. “Spencer, maybe stop before I decide against having kids altogether.”
A hearty laugh met yours and the air of the car felt instantly lighter. How easy things were to deal with when you simply communicated with each other. Spencer was so open with you about your worries, fears, and feelings. It was entirely refreshing. You had come to realise that it was exactly what a relationship shouldbe.
A realisation came to him suddenly, you could tell in the way his eyes widened and mouth dropped open as though to immediately say whatever had sprung to mind. He quickly stopped himself and awkwardly cleared his throat as though that would distract you. It didn’t work. “What?” You asked, lightheartedly.
“It’s nothing.” Dubiously, you raised your eyebrows and sternly crossed your arms. It did not take long for him to relent. “It’s… how do you-um-feel about marriage?”
He said the last word so quietly that you were forced to strain to hear it. You weren’t even certain you had heard him correctly. “Marriage?” Nodding, he scratched the back of his neck and avoided your searching gaze. Suspicion spawned in you. “I’m not… averse to marriage.” You told him honestly.
Only partially settled, he awkwardly stumbled out another question. “But is- are you - do you want to wait for that as well?”
Warmth spilled through your chest as you worked out what Spencer was trying so very hard not to tell you. “Are you gonna ask me soon?”
Spencer was an incredibly talented man, but one thing he could never seem to do was lie to you. “No!” He squeaked out, an obvious mistruth, “I’m just asking. I’m curious.”
You gave him a knowing smile that did nothing to hide your obvious excitement. Almost bouncing up and down in your seat you asked; “Is it gonna be soon?”
Dramatically, he shook his head. “No! No, I just-“ he cut himself off as he looked at your excitable expression. Shoulders dropping, realising the cat was well and truly out of the bag, he grumbled despite his smile. “Just act surprised when it happens, okay?”
You practically lit up, cheeks almost aching as you beamed at him. “So it is happening?”
“Let’s go home?” Was his unsubtle attempt to redirect your thoughts. With a wry grin, he clicked the car back into drive but replaced his hand upon your thigh. You slipped your fingers beneath his, taking his hand from your leg and instead squeezing it between both of yours.
Summary: After attending a party full of intellectuals with Spencer, you start to worry that you’re not smart enough to be with him. Filled with determination, you decide to try and do something about it.
A/N: Sorry it’s a bit later this week! Recently I hit 100 followers so thank you so much for that; made me very happy :) Let me know what you think!
The party was more an intellectual soirée than an all out rager. Whilst your college days were far behind you, you would have rathered the latter. You were a successful professional, a career in the FBI spanning years at this point, but somehow all these dusty professors surrounding you made you feel small. You knew you weren’t stupid, there were plenty of things you particularly excelled at, but you certainly weren’t a genius.
A few of the attendees had struck up conversation with you, seeming nice enough until it became clear you were not an academic; most of them left fairly quickly, finding more stimulating conversation elsewhere. Some, however, stuck around.
Somehow, they managed to annoy you even more. They were fascinated by your relationship with Spencer, entirely confounded that the pair of you ever managed to find anything to talk about considering the grand difference between your respective IQs and asking probing questions into how you had even met. Of course, they all punctuated these personal questions with assurances that it was “all in good fun” and attempted to placate you with the knowledge that they were “sure you must be very happy together”.
It all felt entirely passive aggressive but you doubted these intellectuals even realised it was offensive.
Eventually, you took to hiding in a darkened corner and nursing your second glass of red. As you swirled the velvety liquid around the glass, watching the legs cling to the surface, you wondered whether all these strangers really had a point. Spencer wasn’t just smart, he was a bonafide genius. Why was he with you?
You couldn’t add any information to his life that he didn’t already know. You couldn’t provide a fresh take on classic Russian literature. You couldn’t even understand most of his jokes well enough to laugh. You knew Spencer loved you, his actions and words both speaking loud enough, but surely that wouldn’t stop him from getting bored eventually.
You watched him across the room, chatting animatedly with someone you hadn’t had the pleasure of being spoken down to by, and felt an anxiety coil in your chest. Surely it was only a matter of time.
Quickly finishing off your wine, nabbing another glass from a passing waiter, you tried to think of some solution. How could you connect with him intellectually?
As half-baked plans tumbled through your mind your gaze unfocused into the middle distance, leaving you entirely vulnerable to an unnoticed visitor. “Do you like the wine?”
The unidentified warm hand lightly gripping your arm caused you to jerk suddenly. The wine sloshing dangerously around the glass, the contents somehow remaining contained. Hand over your chest, heartbeat trilling rapidly beneath it, you looked to Spencer with wide eyes. “Don’t sneak up on me,” you breathed out as your heart rate slowly resettled.
Amusement danced in his eyes and the sight softened your previous anxiety somewhat. Palms raised in surrender, he relented. He gestured vaguely to a generally disapproving older gentleman conversing quite animatedly with a younger colleague. “Riemann told me that he tried to convince the organisers not to allow alcohol tonight,” you screwed up your face in response and earned a husky chuckle as you took a rebellious sip of wine. “He gave me an entire speech about the ‘stimulation of conversation being inebriation enough’.”
You giggled in response, leaning closer to Spencer even as you hid your face behind the wine. “He sounds like fun,” you commented, around another sip of wine. Eyes darting to the man you were busy gossiping about you found his attention flickering to the pair of you. “Spencer,” you exclaimed pointlessly, his attention was already upon you, “he’s looking this way!” Holding the glass out to him, you asked with a wicked smirk; “You want some?”
A full grin pulled your features as he took the offered glass and, with a last little laugh, took a large gulp. Eyes quickly darting back to Riemann, giggling at the disapproval now being glared at the pair of you, you murmured lowly to Spencer. “We’re such trouble makers.”
Handing you back the now half emptied glass he smiled down at you - seemingly not daring to look at your disgruntled audience. Instead he was focusing on you in that intense way he sometimes did; his warm eyes somehow lit up, his lips twitching upwards as though he simply couldn’t help himself, and his focus fell entirely upon you. You never felt more loved than you did when he looked at you like this.
Your previous worries were forgotten, for now at least, as you matched his gaze with wide eyes. “Are you having fun?” You asked, almost shyly diverting his intensity.
He nodded quickly, stepping closer to you as a waiter struggled to get past him, and proceeded to give you an in depth run down of some of the evenings more interesting conversations.
As the evening itself drew to a close, Spencer spent most of his time by your side. Hovering close, a hand splayed over your back, even as people ambled over to speak to him.
His presence made you feel much better, the quiet support he always offered you soothing you immensely. In fact, your anxious feelings did not return until he was snoring beside you.
In the quiet of the night you found ample time to worry over the longevity of your relationship. At around three thirty am you came to the groggy conclusion that you really had to do something about it; starting tomorrow of course.
Over the next few weeks you carefully carved out time for yourself wherever you could, whenever you thought Spencer might not notice. An extra hour or so at the gym, staying a little later at work with a promise to meet Spencer at home after you had finished your paperwork, and even purposefully sitting away from him on the jet home.
To begin with you had tried to read one of his favourite books but quickly gave up when you spent more time staring blankly at the pages than actually reading. You had found an English translation but the archaic sentence structure meant that the words still seemed foreign. Eventually you found a niche that made you feel as though you were getting somewhere; a pithy podcast so helpfully titled ‘physics for dummies’. It was surprisingly easy to follow and whilst you still couldn’t hope to follow Spencer’s long-winded science ramblings you could at least pick out a few words that you actually understood.
Spencer wasn’t aware of your extra curricular activity and you were hoping to keep it that way, at least for now.
This particular plan of yours was scuppered, however, during a challenging case involving an erotomaniac with an obsession for a high school physics teacher. After hitting several roadblocks in the investigation you and the rest of the team were crowded around a table working through the mountainous pile of letters your unsub had sent the object of his desire.
So far this had yielded little, but when Luke read out an excerpt your ears immediately picked out a familiar word. “‘And in that moment where our world-lines collide, you’ll know without doubt that we were meant to be….’” Luke huffed, slapping the paper back on the desk beside his empty coffee cup, and leaned back with a curse and a groan. “What does that even mean?”
Spencer went to reply but you got there first, your own focus still upon the letter in your hand. “World-lines describe the paths that particles take in space, encapsulating every event they have and will experience. It kinda sounds like he’s trying to say that their paths are fated to cross?”
A beat of quiet met your almost flippant response and your gaze flickered up to find surprise pointed at you. “Alright, Dr Reid,” JJ commented with a well humoured sarcasm. Spencer himself, said nothing.
Peeking at Spencer, you were expecting surprise certainly but you were entirely unprepared for how upset he suddenly looked. His eyes were fixed unseeingly upon his left hand, idly scratching at the grooves of the table, and he didn’t even look up at you.
Your shoulders bunched around you as you felt embarrassment heat your cheeks. “Sorry,” you squeaked out, hoping he would look at you; he didn’t.
The others made no mention of Spencer’s strange lack of response, sensing his strange agitation and attempting to move on quickly with a discussion about the case itself.
You didn’t get your answers until the case had been successfully closed. Despite your impatience to work out what was picking at him, you knew it was likely more professional to wait until the pair of you were off the clock. Whilst you knew that, it didn’t make his avoidance of you any easier to handle.
With the unsub in custody, the rest of the team were busily making evening plans - a night at a local bar seemed to be winning the vote at the moment - but Spencer had other plans. Sidling up to you whilst the others were busy with their excitement, he murmured a question to you in a strangely husky tone; his voice rough as though he were greatly upset. “Can we talk?”
Nodding softly, you followed him silently as he led the pair of you into an unoccupied interview room. His eyes couldn’t meet yours, falling instead just below your searching gaze, and you squirmed under this sudden strangeness. His hands were pushed into his pockets, a sign of forced casualness that was more telling of how uncertain he was.
Taking a step forwards, you broached the heavy silence with a soft question. “Spencer, what’s wrong?”
Swallowing thickly, he cleared his throat. When he finally met your gaze you were forced to stop yourself from reaching out to him. The shine in his eyes curled a concern into you that was hard to tamp down, but you knew he needed space to articulate whatever was eating at him.
Finally, he formed the words he seemed to have been thinking very hard about. “Are you seeing someone else?”
The question floored you entirely. Surely you had misheard. “Wait, what?” Sniffing, he dropped his head but didn’t repeat himself. After a silence that stretched for far too long, your brain finally caught up with his question and you rushed to reassure him. “No! God no, Spencer!” Raising his head, his eyes worked slowly over your features in a search for deception. “How could you even ask me that?!”
Lips twisting, he looked away and carded a hand through his hair. “You’ve been spending so much time away; last month you spent an average of four hours a week at the gym. This month it’s increased to eight.”
You tried to shrug this point off, stomach twisting as you realised he had clearly misread your admittedly odd behaviour this past month. “I’ve been working out more.” Even you could hear the lie in your words.
Your poor response seemed to upset him even more, face crumbling as he struggled to keep a hold of his emotions in the face of an obvious lie. “No, you’re not.” You had no answer for that, he seemed so certain and you didn’t want to lie again. “You… you’re staying later at work but I know you haven’t gotten any outstanding paperwork to do.” Considering the emotion welled in his words you realised how much he must have thought about all of this. “And now you know what world-lines are, something I know we haven’t spoken about!” He heaved a last sigh, face falling as he noted your answering silence. “If - if there’s someone else,” he swallowed thickly then, struggling against the tears still within his eyes, “can you just tell me what’s going on? Please.”
“There isn’t anyone else,” you reassured imploringly. A step forward brought you before him and you pressed a hand to his cheek. “I- I’ll tell you what’s going on but… promise not to laugh at me?”
That seemed to settle him a little and he allowed himself to lean into your affection. At his answering nod, you took a centring breath before explaining.
“So, that party thing we went to a few weeks ago…”
Eyebrows pulling together, he nodded slowly. “I remember.” He confirmed.
“Yeah, of course you do.” You tried to laugh, to encourage him to, but the noise became caught in your throat. Shaking your head, realising he wasn’t quite in the mood to laugh with you just yet, you continued. “Anyway, erm, a bunch of people came to talk to me. I guess they kinda assumed that since you’re with me that I must be super smart too. But obviously… I’m not.”
You felt some relief when he brought his hands to your arms, the warmth of them reassuring you that he was here and he was open to listen. “But why have you been avoiding me?”
Dropping your hand to his chest, you averted your gaze. “Well, they were all just so surprised that you would be with someone who was… I don’t know, average.” You tried to look back at him, your own awkwardness making this confession difficult. “And it kinda got me thinking that I don’t really know why you’re with me.” Immediately, he went to cut you off but you barrelled past his attempted reassurance. “And I started to panic that yknow you’d get bored of me one day so I started listening to this stupid podcast every chance I got to try and learn something that would make me more interesting.”
He said nothing to begin with. Eyes downcast but you felt immediately disgruntled when a quiet laughter peeled from him. It was certainly better than the sight of his emotional distress but it still irked you. Lightly slapping his chest, you pulled away but he quickly tightened his grip upon you. “No, I’m sorry - I’m sorry…” he calmed you, but a strange little smile was still pulling at his lips, “it’s just that, you tried to learn about physics just to be closer to me.”
“Well, yeah.” You told him, as though it were the the most obvious thing in the world. “I love you.”
His tears had entirely disappeared, replaced with an obvious wave of relief. “When we first started dating, do you remember we went to an art gallery?” You nodded, remembering the shyness of Spencer back then and smiling into the memory. “I talked way too much,” you chuckled and shook your head wryly, “I told you the year that everything had been painted, the medium used, the artistic style… I told you everything i could think of.”
Quirking a brow, you made a lightly teasing joke. “I remember thinking you were gonna give me a pop quiz at the end of the night.”
Ducking his head, he gave a laugh as he squeezed your arms. Some of his past shyness returning briefly before he looked back at you. “The point is, you eventually interrupted me to ask me what I thought of the painting I was talking about.” He paused, a reminiscence shining in his eyes. “And I didn’t have an answer, I had to stop and think about it.” He told you this like it was some great revelation, but you couldn’t work out what he was trying to tell you. Sensing that you hadn’t quite captured his meaning, he explained further. “I will never get bored of you,” he told you with so much certainty it was impossible not to believe him, “you make me see the world in ways I didn’t think possible.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you teetered on your tiptoes to peck his lips. “Especially now,” you teased, “now with my newfound expertise in all things space physics.”
Eyes narrowing slightly, he hummed in an affectionate kind of humour hands slipping to the small of your back. “You mean astrophysics.”
With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you teetered forwards once more to kiss him, murmuring “whatever” in the space between you.
A languid kiss later and his gaze shifted past you and to the door. “Should we try to catch up with the others?”
Twisting your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, you pouted and shook your head. “Why don’t we go back to the hotel?”
He laughed lightly as he fell forwards to rest his forehead against yours. “Let’s go.”
There were often days, weeks, or months where the world felt rallied against you. It was a certainty, you were absolutely sure, that everyone experienced such targeted difficulty. Today, however, the world seemed so unfair and built up against you that it was hard to take comfort in that knowledge.
Your shoes scraped against every step as you clambered up the stairs to your boyfriend’s apartment, feet feeling so heavy it was hard to fully lift them between steps. Your hand slid along the railing, gripping the solid wood in an attempt to pull yourself up the mountain of stairs. It took an age, but eventually you reached the top step.
Heaving a deep breath, attempting to quell the storm of negativity within, you plastered a smile onto your lips. Shoulders set, expression schooled, you moved to his door and rapped your knuckles against the wood. You heard him yell through the door, indicating he was coming, and the excitement in his tone pulled a peal of happiness from you. If anything could make you feel better today, it was definitely going to be Spencer.
The door opened quickly and you were greeted with an almost goofy grin as he struggled with his over-large coat. “You ready to go?”
Trying to mirror his enthusiasm, but likely failing spectacularly, you nodded quickly even as your eyes darted to the floor. Had you been looking up to him you would have noticed the crinkle between his eyebrows as he looked over you; the gaze that swept over everything from your slumped shoulders to your wringing hands. You would have seen the stilling of his hands as a deep concern etched upon his features.
His voice pulled your gaze back to his, “I - uh - I just need to grab something,” he gestured back into his apartment with his thumb and stepped aside to allow you pass, “do you want to come in?”
“Sure,” you assented, moving past him and into the familiar space. His apartment was so cozy, comforting. Everything about it was so familiar, so very Spencer, that a small relief warmed through you.
“Is everything okay?” You started at his sudden question, having thought he had disappeared to locate whatever he had needed to grab.
“Uh-“ your mouth hung open as you looked at him in slow surprise. Blinking rapidly, you finally nodded; “yeah.” The word was so obviously a lie that it was doubtful your profiler of a partner would miss it.
Kindly, instead of calling you out on the clear mistruth, he stepped closer and lowered his tone. “It’s just, usually you aren’t on time.” A small upturn of your lips met that, an action that encouraged him continue. “On average you tend to be seven minutes and thirteen seconds late. Your lateness is always because you stopped to get coffee from your favourite shop, but you’re both on time and you didn’t stop for coffee?”
You kicked your feet against his floor, a rueful expression overtaking you. “Guess I can’t hide anything from a profiler, huh?”
Your careless response did not appear to appease his concern. He gave you a smile, one that didn’t quite crinkle his eyes, and stepped closer. Wringing his hands together, he paused for a considering moment before asking another question. “You’re not feeling great?”
It was less a question, more a statement. Spencer, of course, knew the stresses that had been piling upon you recently; he had been your shoulder to cry on through it all. So far, however, you had managed to hold it together pretty well. But, today, the line between coping and crying felt just a bit too thin.
Giving up on any pretence of pretending everything was fine, you took the few steps separating the pair of you and wrapped your arms around him. Not only was it pointless to hide your feelings from your boyfriend who literally studied behaviour for a living, you also didn’t want to. When you were young you had thought sharing your feelings of stress and difficulty a sign of weakness. Now, wrapped up in Spencer, you knew that there was no weakness in relying on someone. Especially when that someone loved you like he did.
You only noticed your tears when you tried to speak - the hoarseness of your throat warning you of the wetness of your cheeks. “It’s all catching up with me.” You croaked out.
A hand was smoothing soothing circles over your back whilst he leant his cheek upon your temple. “It’s okay,” he told you quietly, letting the warmth of his arms calm you before he gave you words that sent relief coursing through you. “We can stay in tonight?”
That sounded perfect to you, but a guilt still crept over you. “Spencer, you’ve wanted to go to this place for like… forever.” It was true, he had given you more information about this particular planetarium over the last two months than you thought possible and you couldn’t take away his chance to go.
Pulling back to look down at you, warm hands rubbing over your arms, he laughed. “It’ll be open next week, we can go then.” The sincerity and sweetness of this gesture overwhelmed you and your lip trembled as you held back fresh tears. Apparently recognising this latest emotion bomb, he quickly made you laugh with an attempted joke that wasn’t really funny at all. “If we stay in and- and look out the window,” he began gesturing vaguely to the window in question, “it’ll be like we’re in a terrarium instead.”
It wasn’t funny, not even slightly, and you could tell he didn’t think so either. But, you smiled through quiet tears and responded in kind; “the opposite of a planetarium.”
Lips quirking up, he squeezed your arms once before steering you onto his sofa. Melting into the soft upholstery, you hummed at the relief of changed plans. You loved exploring new places with Spencer, he was like your own personal tour guide wherever you ventured, but an evening in the familiar confines of his home was often unbeatable.
Spencer didn’t join you right away, moving to his kitchen and clanging about as you settled into comfort. Eyes dropping shut, you let your head fall back against the pillows and tried your best to relax the tense set of your shoulders. Spencer’s softer footsteps, his shoes now discarded likely beside the door, alerted you to his reappearance. Cracking a single eye open you broke into a smile as he handed you a mug. Steam rolled from the mug in curling waves, the vapour filling your nose with the pleasant sweetness of cocoa and you thanked him immediately. “How is it you always know how to make me feel better?”
Smiling warmly down to you, he quipped an answer that did raise a chuckle from your downturned lips. “Simple mathematics.” He paired the statement with wiggling fingers as though he had just finished some spectacular magic trick; the motion warmed you almost as much as the mug you clutched.
Patting the spot next to you, you sidled closer to him as he took direction and settled beside you. Sending a slow, cooling breath over the scalding contents of the mug, you quirked a brow at him. “Math? How does that work?”
Cupping his own mug between his hands, the small ceramic surface almost entirely disappearing beneath his grip, he settled back as he explained. “Well, over the time that we’ve known each other I’ve gathered ‘data’ about your likes and dislikes.” You twisted in your seat as he explained, letting your back rest against the arm of his sofa to allow you watch him entirely. “Over time I’ve noticed what makes you happy when you’re feeling down - it’s different depending on what’s upset you.” He lowered one hand to rest warmly over your ankle as you stretched your feet onto his lap. “Today, I knew you were feeling overwhelmed so it was a reasonable estimate that you would want to stay home.”
You sunk further into the sofa and nodded. Your returning words were caught in your throat at the fact that he had referred to his apartment as your home; a pleasant flutter of your heart meeting the sentiment. Home. it felt right. When you untangled your tongue, the giddiness still tinged your words. “In short,” you started, daring to sip the still steaming liquid before you finished, “you pay attention.”
Squeezing your ankle, he gave a hearty laugh and a sheepish nod in response. A comfortable silence settled over the pair of you then, only the cautious slurping sips of hot chocolate punctuated the pleasant companionship of quiet.
When you had drained your mug, the drink spreading a pleasant warmth through your chest, you shifted position again. Carefully, you moved your feet - aware his mug was still half full - and shifted to lean into his chest. Subtly, he shifted his own position to provide you with greater comfort. Head now leant against his chest, you smiled at the steady rhythm of his heart. “Spencer?” you asked, enjoying the way your voice seemed almost muted in the still air.
“Yeah?” His hand dropped lightly onto your hair, smoothing over it before his fingertips rubbed light circles over your temples.
“Tell me something.” You murmured, eyes falling closed against his ministrations. “Something fascinating like you always do.“
Fingertips not stalling against your request, his mind too quick to stutter, he quickly responded. “You know,” he began musingly, tone suggestive of a wandering mind, “the English language lacks quite a few adjectives.”
“Like what?” You asked, gaze settled on his features as your fingertips toyed with his shirt.
His gaze roamed over the window, the rain now battering the pane of glass more dramatically, and his lips quirked up at the edges. Looking down at you, eyes warm upon you, he murmured an unfamiliar word in the space between you. “Gluggavedur,” you raised your eyebrows in silent question, “it’s the comfort of watching bad weather from a window.”
You smiled and turned your gaze to the window. Under your breath you repeated the word, your pronunciation shaky at best, and nodded in some kind of agreement. “I like that,” you told him, tone low to match his. “Do you know any more?”
An arm curled around you, pulling you closer and you buried yourself further into his side. “Gezellig,” he told you, the word unusual to your ears but sounding sweet in his timbre.
You waited in the warm silence for him to elaborate but he seemed almost shy to. Eventually, curiosity pushed you to ask, “what does that mean?”
Head tilting, his cheek coming to rest against the crown of your head, he breathed a slow sigh before responding. “It’s the comfort of coziness with someone you love.”
The words registered in your mind, a cozy warmth spreading from your chest to the very tips of your toes. You had never considered that specific type of comfort before. He was right, unsurprisingly, there was a specific type of comfort that curled around you when you were with someone you loved. When you were with him.
Your eyes drifted back from the window to his features. His head shifted at your movement and caramel eyes met yours. Hand delicately tracing from his chest to his cheek, you moved up to softly press your lips against his. The kiss was hoped to press your gratitude into him. You pulled away, only very slightly, and whispered a response. “I like that one the most.”
He smiled down at you, a relief washing over his features as he watched the stress melt from you. “Thank you,” you murmured to him in the cozy air between you.
“For what?” He asked, genuinely unsure. How could he not know how grateful you were for every little thing he did for you?
Shaking your head lightly at his question, at the confused crinkle between his eyebrows, you kissed him again. Your stresses still existed, some problems couldn’t be solved in a day, but in this sweet moment with him the burden seemed a little less heavy
Summary: When you and Spencer share a room, you wonder over how inevitable the actions of the next hours are.
A/N: I feel like this is super long and I know for a fact it’s super self-indulgent. Not to spoil what we all knew was coming but this is also 18+. Let me know what you think!
“So, uh-“ Spencer’s voice cut off prematurely as the door swung open to reveal the small room the two of you were about to share. Clearing his throat, voice cracking with dryness as he spoke once more, he ducked his head. “This is it.”
Your eyes darted frenetically between his downcast gaze and the cosy room before you. “Nice,” you said stupidly. Silence stretched between you, your single word seeming to cement the tension in the air rather than dispelling it as you had hoped. Realising that one of you needed to take the leap and actually step into the room, you squared your shoulders and took that step forward. It felt as though you were hurling yourself into the sun considering the way the heat burned through you as he stepped in behind you and clicked the door closed.
Steeling yourself, you dropped your bag and turned to face him. As much as you had planned to say something witty and charming, something that would fully break the tension between the two of you, the moment your eyes met his you realised any attempt would be fruitless. The last few days of playful teasing had created a heat between you that wasn’t going to dissipate with a few well selected words.
You had a feeling that there was only one way the tension between you would be relieved.
Eyes darting around, clearly looking for something to distract his suddenly fidgeting hands, he saw your discarded bag and rushed forward. Hefting it into his hands, he bundled past you and towards the bed closest to the window.
Dropping your bag beside the neatly made bed, he nodded his head once to himself before turning back to you. “You – uh – you can take this bed.” He explained, only a light stutter tarring the words.
Casting a gaze over the bed and the space around it, you raised an eyebrow with a realisation. The bed was perfectly made, the other bed seeming messy in comparison, and the bedside table held a stack of three heavy hardbacks that Morgan would never look twice at, let alone read. “This is your bed?”
He looked from the bed to you and back again, seeming to realise what it sounded like he was implying. “Oh – um,” his features scrunched and he looked as though he were thinking very hard about something. “It’s just this bed is the furthest from the door so in the case of an intruder you would be the second target giving you ample time to escape or call for help or-or…” he stuttered and stalled entirely as you approached him.
Grasping the wrist of the hand that was half raised in some kind of gesture, you looked down to his hands even as your thumb swiped over his wrist. “You expecting an intruder?”
His hand turned under yours, palm flipping up to allow his fingers grip your palm. Unlike yours, his eyes did not shift up to meet yours, they remained fixed on your hand in his. “It’s just a precaution.” He still refused to look up at you, second hand coming up to nervously straighten the cuff of your shirt sleeve. “The electrical locking system of most hotels is actually much less secure than their more classical analogue counterpart. Picking a barrel lock requires much more skill than-“He paused when you slipped your hand free and moved towards the door before he powered through the hesitation. “Than – um – digital locks becau-“ He completely stalled as you gripped the table beside the door and hefted it over the door. “What are you doing?”
Grinning at him as you finished placing the table, you snatched a dusty glass vase from the sideboard. “Learnt this trick from Emily,” you told him, balancing the vase on the very edge of the table, “if someone comes in the vase will fall and smash, waking us both up.”
He mirrored your bright smile with a particularly subdued one of his own. “It’s doubtful the vase would smash, the carpeted floor would provide enough of a cushion to keep it in tact.”
“Right,” you muttered in response, wondering how you could shift this conversation away from the hypothetical intruder the two of you were supposedly going to face. Inspiration struck you quickly and a devilish smile twisted your lips; “hey Reid?”
The glint in your eye clearly sent alarm bells ringing through his head if the bobbing of his adam’s apple were any indication.
“Yeah?” He asked, hoarsely.
Slowly, you sidled back towards him. “What d’you reckon Morgan did to his back?”
Brown eyes narrowed on you, gaze flicking between both your eyes as he tried to calculate where you were going with this. You couldn’t blame him for his confusion, you were taking a very roundabout route to your destination but you were hoping it would prove worthwhile.
“I’m not sure,” Spencer told you plainly. You briefly wondered if he housed the same suspicions as you concerning Morgan’s sudden inability to share a room.
Reaching him once more, you watched the way he quickly shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled up at him. The movement was casual enough that you could dismiss it but the way he subtly rocked back and forth on his heels told you that the motion was more a nervous one.
“You could’ve helped him with that, couldn’t you, doc?”
And then, he fell right into your trap.
“I’m not actually a medical doctor,” he told you, as if you didn’t know. “Although, if the problem is muscular rather than skeletal he would probably require a good masseuse.” You couldn’t help but smile as he led the conversation right where you had hoped he would.
“One of your PHDs isn’t in massage then?”
Apprehension overtook him. “Ah – no.”
You shrugged, undoing his tie with nimble fingers and pulling it free. As you pulled the fabric from him it pulled him ever so slightly closer to you and he hardly made an effort to prevent the motion. You could feel his staggered breath spill warmth over your lips and you fumbled slightly with his tie as you worked up the courage for your next move.
“Well, I could teach you?” Your suggestion was met with a gaze that swept over your figure and neither of you paid much attention to where you threw his tie.
The hoarseness of his voice caused a dryness of your own throat, anticipation tasting sweet in your mouth. “You don’t have to do that.”
Shrugging, left hand smoothing over his chest where the tie had been, you gave a response. “You tried to teach me to speed read a few days ago,” you heavily emphasised the word tried, earning a laugh from the man before you, “consider this payback?”
Lips darting out to wet his lips, he nodded softly.
Beaming in response, your plan falling into place so perfectly around you, you patted his chest pointedly. “Sit down, doc.”
Nervousness practically poured from him but he followed your instruction; perching on the edge of the bed so precariously you were surprised he didn’t fall off.
Spencer’s gaze followed your movement until you disappeared behind him, at which point his hands clenched together in his lap. You clambered onto the bed behind him, your own more subtle nerves making the movement clumsier than you would have liked, and knelt behind him.
The tense set of his shoulders was the opposite effect that you had been hoping to have. Beneath the first touch of your hands they somehow stiffened even more. Lightly working your thumbs into the surprisingly substantial knots of his upper back, you leaned forward to murmur close to his ear. “Spencer, relax.”
He let out an extended breath that shook with a mix of laughter and something more promising. The laughter did soften his shoulders beneath your ministrations. “What?” You questioned softly.
Beginning to melt into you, his head fell back just enough for you to watch his eyes fall closed. “You just-“ he cut himself off as he hummed with satisfaction; the noise sending your tongue sweeping over your lips. “You don’t use my name that often.”
He didn’t seem to notice how much he had just given away; the possibilities that pooled in your mind at the power he had unknowingly just handed you. You gave no verbal reply but your hands became more insistent in their attempt at drawing more hums of pleasure from him.
“Does that feel good?” You asked lowly, raising on your knees slightly to gain a height advantage.
Almost unconsciously, his head fell back farther: resting against you now and you smiled down at his closed eyes. “Yeah,” he told you, the word becoming breathy almost immediately, before he mumbled out more confirmation “feels good.”
In all the time you had known him, you had never seen him so unrestrained, so relaxed. You almost didn’t want to ruin it by pushing this further but when his now blown eyes opened to find you, you changed your mind. The gaze that had found you, however briefly, was filled with a dark promise you had never expected to find.
You let one hand trail upwards from the back of his neck, fingers working through his hair and nails lightly scratching his scalp. The noise of satisfaction that one simple action pulled from him bolstered your confidence enough to let your other hand slip softly down his chest.
As you undid his second top button, letting your fingertips tease the skin of his chest, you gave an obvious excuse for your actions. “Massages are more effective without a shirt in the way,” he swallowed thickly at your words, “do you mind?”
To begin with, he shook his head that he didn’t mind, eyes squeezing shut. But, as you undid the next button and let your entire hand slip beneath his shirt, his hands stopped you.
Pausing immediately, you looked questioningly down to him. His fingers were flexing where they held your wrist, eyes squeezing shut before opening to settle on you with scrunched eyebrows. All clear signs of hesitation.
You were making your desire for him more than obvious at this point, you supposed that some of your actions over the previous days could be explained away with enough mental gymnastics, but with your hand under his shirt it was impossible to ignore. So, what was making him hesitate so much?
After a moment apparently warring with himself, he gave your wrist a final squeeze and forced some words out. “The best way to learn a new skill is…” he looked down at your wrist caught in his hand briefly before daring to meet your eye once more, “practice.”
Now, that was promising. Realising that, for his sake, you were going to have to give up some of your control of this situation - you pulled your hands back. Unable to completely retract from him without attempting to send his thoughts into a spiral, you leaned close to his ear one last time.
“Where do you want me?”
He remained for a brief pause, shifting in his seat while his eyes darted back and forth over the thoughts in his head. Eventually, he stood and you almost pouted at the cool air he left behind.
Sitting back on your heels, leaving your palms resting on your knees, you blinked innocently up at him. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of you kneeling before him, it was a wonder you kept a victorious smirk from breaking your show of faux innocence.
Recovering himself, Spencer vaguely gestured for you to turn around. Following instruction without daring to tease him further, you turned and shuffled backwards until your back was flush to the edge of the bed.
Now that you couldn’t see him, anticipation killed you. He didn’t move to you immediately but you could hear him shifting behind you. Without seeing his face you couldn’t tell whether he was purposefully dragging this out to make you squirm or if his nerves were getting the better of him.
The anticipation made your skin tingle and when he finally touched you you felt as though you might explode. Immediately, you sank into his touch with a contented sigh. This small sound he pulled from you seemed to bolster his confidence and his hands became firmer.
You weren’t sure if he genuinely was just a quick study, although that wouldn’t surprise you, or if he had lied about not knowing how to do this. His hands, that you had been so drawn to for the last few days, genuinely seemed magic. Your shoulders dropped and your back relaxed as he worked your muscles perfectly, the warmth of his hands pushing comfort into you. You practically melted beneath him.
You let out a mewl of contentment that stalled his hands, sending them gripping you with an urgency that he couldn’t hope to hide. The breath he heaved out ruffled your hair and you suddenly realised how close he had become to you.
Daring to lean back slightly, trusting him to not let you fall, you sighed as his hands began to move once more. As much as you were enjoying melting beneath his ministrations, you were hoping he would dare to push this further.
Impatience picked at you however, your body unwilling to wait now that you knew how well his hands could work you, and you took action. Nerves did try to halt you; what you were about to do would either push this interaction to where you really wanted it to go or would stop it entirely.
Throwing caution to the wind, reassuring yourself with the memories of how he had looked at you earlier, you tilted your head back. Head resting against him, you let your eyes fall shut and hoped he was looking down at your expression.
Biting your lip you let a muffled moan slip free. The noise wasn’t a complete lie, you did feel incredible right now, but it was a definite exaggeration. Then, using the weapon he had so carelessly given you earlier, you let a few breathy words escape you. “Oh, Spencer, that feels so good.”
What sounded like a high whine got caught in his throat but instead of falling into you like you had hoped he would, he fell away from you. It took you a moment to right yourself, considering how heavily you had been leaning against him you almost fell off the bed entirely, and by the time you turned to face him he had sat on the bed opposite you.
His elbows rested against his knees as his body fell forward and his hands rubbed harshly against his eyes. Guilt tore through you, he looked so uncomfortable.
Pulling your knees into your chest, you hugged yourself to try and forestall the discomfort now pulling at you. “Sorry,” you told him so quickly the word came out almost unintelligible. “I’m just y’know overstressed and- and like everything else you - you’re really good at that-“
Luckily, he cut off your words before they could devolve even further into rambling insanity. “You-“ he started awkwardly, lips pressed together as he tried to force his words out. “You’ve been flirting with me?” he finished quietly, eyes never quite reaching yours.
Why he phrased that as a question you weren’t sure. Had he not been paying attention the last few days? It was obvious. You didn’t bother denying it; “yeah, I- I have been,” you told him, nodding slowly as you tried to figure out what had gone so wrong.
Finally, he managed to catch your gaze. His eyes weren’t guarded as you had feared, they were still warm and open - never closing to you. “Is it…” Spencer was struggling so much getting these words out that you wished you could just read his mind and save him from the stress. Alas, you could not work out what was happening in that brain of his. “It’s just…” he wrung his hands together. “Are you just curious?” He rushed out eventually, words jumbling together in his rush. “Just for-for a night or do you…”
He really was struggling to force this out but, luckily for him, you had worked out where his meandering words were headed. “Spencer,” you breathed out, his shoulders dropping as he realised he was no longer expected to keep talking. Standing from your spot on the bed, you took a few steps to stand in the space before him. “You wanna date me.”
You didn’t need to ask and so you gave it as a statement. His hesitance and uncertainty now made perfect sense; his attraction to you was more than skin deep and he didn’t want to misread the situation.
He held your gaze, pressed his lips together, and nodded silently.
Finally gaining this confirmation, you smiled brightly down at him. You bounced the last step to him, hands framing his face to keep him looking up at you as you let a gleeful laugh free. At your expression, he finally smiled.
Bending at the hip, you brought your face close to his. Your lips brushed his as you murmured a single word. “Good,” you punctuated the word with your lips, a soft kiss that quickly became more as a large hand gripped you and pulled you closer.
Your noise of surprise was swallowed by his lips as his second hand curled snugly around your waist. His previous nerves and uncertainty had disappeared entirely; replaced with a casual confidence that was evident in the way he pulled you into his lap.
From your new perch straddling the doctor you quickly realised why he had sat bent so awkwardly forwards earlier. Giggling into his kiss, you gave a whine when he responded by pulling his lips away. They didn’t stray far, one hand tugged through your hair to tilt your head back while his lips worked down your neck.
When you had started this venture with Spencer you had expected him to be nervous, almost clumsy, but it seemed that the moment you confirmed your long term interest in him he let go of any anxiety. The way he let his hands roam your figure while he worked on marking your neck thrilled you.
You worked the remainder of his buttons free whilst your brain still functioned well enough not to fumble. At the feel of your palms against his chest his own hands started pulling greedily at your shirt.
“I’ve wanted to get you out of this all day,” he all but growled out, the stubbornness of your buttons clearly frustrating his usually perfect dexterity.
“You don’t like it?” Pressing against him, making the task ahead of him a little more difficult, you shifted your hips as though you didn’t know the effect it would have on him. “I wore it just for you.”
Hands leaving your shirt, the buttons very much still done up, he squeezed your thighs meaningfully. “Oh, I know.” The words were almost drowned out by your yelp of surprise as he hefted you upwards. Locking your legs around his torso, you let one of your hands grip his hair as you pulled his lips back to yours.
A gasp was pulled from you as your back hit a mattress with such force you bounced a few times. Shuffling up to rest on your elbows, you marvelled at the imposing way he was looking down at you. His large height was no surprise to you but the way he looked over you now was intimidating in the best way. “Much better,” he commented - smugness dripping from his tone.
Excitement tingled through you at this bold Spencer you had never encountered before. He dropped on top of you, arms caging you in as a more skilled hand pulled your buttons free.
It was interesting; when he was in a position of control over you he seemed much more confident in his every ministration but flip the scenario and he became a fumbling mess beneath you.
The possibilities were endless for the future trysts that were to hopefully come, but your mind was thrown back into the moment at the feel of his rough palms against your bare stomach. “You’ve been teasing me with this all day,” he murmured against your collarbone, lithe finger hooking underneath the middle band of your bra.
“Mhm,” you hummed, wiggling beneath him in an attempt to push him to touch you in one of the places begging for his attention. “Didn’t think you noticed.” That was an obvious lie.
From the smirk he shot up at you from his new position over your abdomen, it was clear he caught the mistruth too. “No?” He questioned, the warm breath that spilt over your stomach sending a pleasant shiver through your figure. “You haven’t been thinking about this?” He punctuated the question with fingertips dragging over your stomach, a deliberate delicacy in the action that sent you writhing beneath him. Your reaction did nothing but embolden him further. “You weren’t wondering how good my hands would feel?” Your tongue couldn’t quite form words of affirmation around your shallow breaths.
If you had known it would be like this you would have pounced on him sooner.
His fingers skirted beneath the waistband of your pants but immediately returned to your stomach despite your whining protest. Spencer had the audacity to laugh down at you, taking a moment to watch you mewl beneath him and likely saving the image to remember perfectly until the very end of time.
“Spencer,” you complained when his hands stilled upon you entirely.
He jerked back into action, having seemingly forgotten himself as he had watched you, and tugged more insistently at your pants.
Lifting your legs, impatience begging you to help him undress you, you almost shivered as the cool air kissed the skin of your legs. You did shiver when his hands warmed your thighs, his insistent grip tugging you closer. Unwilling to let him take complete control of the situation, keeping the playfulness of the previous days alive even in this heated exchange, you pulled your legs free.
Caging him in with your thighs slung over his hips you used his figure as leverage to pull yourself up. Hands slipping over his shoulders you pushed his shirt from him. Nails lightly marking over his shoulders you pulled his lips to yours. You teased him - cutting off the kiss just as he was falling entirely into it by pulling back as your hands worked his belt; his bottom lip trapped beneath your teeth until you decided to release it.
Just as your hand dipped beneath the waistband of his slacks, he harshly gripped at your arms halting you. A challenging gaze met yours, one eyebrow quirking at you even as his lips couldn’t keep from raising in a smirk.
Slowly, he leaned into you. Eyes dropping to your lips, gaze lingering there as his low voice murmured hoarsely to you. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time,” the phrase was punctuated with your gasp as he pushed you heavily back. Still knelt over you, his hands washed over your thighs - dragging slowly over the supple skin but lingering longer as he spoke darkly. “So, this is gonna go exactly,” as he spoke his fingers slipped beneath the thin fabric of your underwear and you could practically see his ego inflate at the wetness already pooled there, “how I want it to go.”
You tried to squirm but it merely worked to slow his swirling fingers. He had been right earlier; you had spent the past days entirely distracted with thoughts of how his hands would feel on you but nothing in your wildest fantasies could have lived up to the way his fingers worked you. “Did you hear me?” You heard his voice through the haze of your own pleasure but were only able to give a response when his hands purposefully stilled.
“M’kay,” you whined, tugging at his wrist in a pathetic attempt to get him to move.
The ministrations continued, the sensations overwhelming but he never pushed you close enough to that precipice you were quickly becoming desperate to fall from. From the smugness overtaking him you could tell he was fully aware of how unfair he was being. “What was that?” He pushed.
It was shocking, really, how powerless he had so swiftly made you. You enjoyed this shift in the power dynamic between you, however, and considering how he was already making you feel you were more than willing to let him take the reigns. In fact, you couldn’t stop the words that spilled so desperately from your lips. “Ah- Spencer- please!”
Just as you were on the precipice of collapsing into yourself, he stopped again. His free hand moved up to grip your chin, turning you to face him, and two lithe fingers tapped your cheek in silent instruction to open the eyes you had not noticed falling closed. When he held your desired gaze, he spoke slowly to you; “please, what?”
“Spencer…” you whined again, hoping his name alone would earn you your release. Pointedly, he swiped his slicked fingers over your clit once, but only once. You bucked at the movement but quickly gave in to his request. Locking a determined gaze on him, you begged him with as much authority as the words could allow. “Spencer, please let me cum.”
You couldn’t decipher whether it was victory or desire that splashed a new darkness into his caramel eyes, but you couldn’t think to care when his ministrations restarted in force. “Do you really think you deserve to?” The finger that slipped inside of you certainly didn’t match up with his question but you nodded into the sensation regardless.
“Y-yes, I do.” You managed between gasping breaths as a second finger joined the first. If he kept going with the relentless pace he had set it soon wouldn’t matter whether you really deserved to cum or not.
If he noticed the rapid approach of your orgasm he did nothing to prevent it. If anything he sent you careening to it more quickly when his thumb stretched up to circle your clit whilst his fingers curled deliciously inside you. “Is this what you imagined?”
The tone of the question demanded an answer and you nodded up at him. The hand that had gripped your chin relented only for his thumb to swipe over your lips as he demanded verbalisation; “use your words.”
“No,” you told him honestly, his answering hesitation quickly abated by your next gasping words, “this is better.”
He rewarded your honesty by redoubling his efforts. The hand on your face trailed down to harshly pull the fabric of your bra out of his way. The delicious combination of his hand roughly kneading your breasts, blunted nails leaving half-moons in the tender flesh, alongside his fingers curling inside of you finally sent you over the edge.
Both hands tightly gripped his arm as you came. You felt so awash with the crest of pleasure you had crashed into that you needed to anchor yourself to him just to stay present. The feeling was so intense you couldn’t be sure if any noise managed to leave you, you knew your mouth had opened as though to moan wantonly but the blood rushing through your ears and the euphoria washing over your thoughts made it hard to tell.
Eventually, the tides of pleasure slowed to ebbing waves. They were present, obvious in the way you would twitch every so often, but the world slowly came back into focus. Unsurprisingly, the first thing your gaze settled upon was Spencer.
Satisfaction was written clearly over his features as he looked over the mess he had already managed to make of you. You jolted visibly as he withdraw his fingers from you and swallowed thickly as you watched him lick them clean. Considering the stratospheric orgasm you had just returned from it was unfair how quickly that single salacious action made you needy for more. You were almost certain that Spencer would be the death of you.
You barely cared if he knew it at this point.
Gripping his wrist, you forced the fingers from his mouth and pulled him closer to you. “Spencer, I need you to fuck me right now.”
He pulled back despite your protests but you settled your complaints when he pulled your underwear entirely off. The noise of his clinking belt provided a kind of musical backdrop for the low timbre of his voice as he spoke next. “You’re not satisfied?”
It was clear in his tone that he more than knew the answer to this question and that your honest answer would hand him any power you had managed to hold onto this far. But you simply did not care.
“I don’t think I could ever get enough of you.” You told him, your earnestness unexpected but entirely honest in this moment.
He leant into you, a lingering kiss pressed to your lips as a hand swept the hair from you face. The moment was slower than those that had preceded it, a sweetness pervading the entire exchange, but it didn’t seem to alter the flow of your intimacy. If anything, it ramped up the heat between you even further; considering the warm ache quickly forming between your thighs it was hard to believe that you had justorgasmed.
His lips distracted you entirely; too wrapped up in him, as you were, to notice that he had freed himself from his slacks. You broke from his lips with a more than audible gasp when you felt him enter you, but he stopped his progress immediately when you squeezed your eyes shut. “No, look at me.”
With great effort, you forced a steady gaze on him. He had barely breached you but you could hardly keep still as he pushed deeper. Considering the heated days that had led up to this moment his self control was impressive; every millimetre he inched forward was slow, measured. His eyes roaming your features, finding every slight reaction you gave him and savouring the sight.
You had had enough. Using the only slight leverage he had allowed you, you rocked your hips purposefully to meet him. Grip tightening on your thighs his head caved into your neck as he choked on a groan.
Now, with him bottomed out inside you, you realised why he had been so torturously slow. His large hands had always made your mind wander, however inappropriately, and consider the size of him. With your walls now deliciously stretched around him, you had your answer. Despite your rush to experience him, you were glad for his patience, your body needed time to relax around his size.
Spencer aided this adjustment with a finger swiping purposefully over your clit and his mouth moving over yours. Melting into him, body quickly becoming pliable to him, you shifted your hips in a quiet indication that you were ready and waiting.
When he shifted it was only slightly but it still drew a throaty whine from you. Spencer’s own low voice joined your unintelligible noise, a delicious curse falling from his lips; “fuck.”
Your memory was hardly faultless like his, but you were sure you had never heard him swear before. There was no doubt you would remember hearing such dirty words in his familiar timbre. After all, the way he said just that one word was already ingrained in your mind after a single iteration.
“Why does that sound so good when you say it?” His reply was non-verbal but seemed to somehow answer your question regardless. He pulled back, almost entirely leaving you, before slamming forwards in a sudden, sharp movement that filled you entirely. Your back arched into him, your arms gripping him instinctively - desperate to pull him somehow closer still.
The forceful pace he set was indicative of the slow but burning heat that had built and built and built over the past days. One of his large hands pushed your left hip, keeping you from squirming beneath him, whilst the other framed your features as his mouth dropped to your neck.
Sloppily, his lips and tongue worked over your hammering pulse. The delicacy of his actions disappearing alongside the harshness of his thrusts. You could feel the peak of pleasure building inside you once again, the friction of his action pushing you closer and closer but never close enough. You let your hand wander down the small space between your bodies, fingers quickly finding your clit and working yourself desperately to the edge.
His head raised from your neck, molten eyes meeting yours before darting down to where your fingers worked circles over your clit. His own hand shot down, smacking yours carelessly out of the way, and worked over you. Something about his fingers, his calloused fingertips upon you, was more addictive than any pleasure you could bring yourself.
“Oh god…” was the only warning you could give before you dove headfirst into another toe curling orgasm. You knew well enough by now that he would want your eyes on him as you rode through your high and so you let his warm eyes overtake your vision.
Your walls clenched around him, pulling him in further and you could tell he wasn’t far behind you. When your name repeatedly spilled from him like a nonsensical prayer, he collapsed forward and pressed his lips harshly to yours. He came with a shudder and a groan against you before he slowed his movements entirely.
The air of the room was then bathed in a subtle quiet, punctuated only by the slowing puffs of breath as the pair of you basked in your shared afterglow. Your hands skittered up and down his back, one of them moving higher to press softly into his hair and you smiled as he hummed with appreciation.
Eventually, even the satisfaction he had just brought you could do nothing to ease the growing heaviness of him on top of you. “Spencer,” you murmured, lips grazing his temple as you turned to face him, “you’re heavy.”
He lifted his head, a smirk shot at you before his lips grazed your temple, then your cheek, then your lips, and finally your forehead. The action was so saccharine after the intensity that you had just shared that you couldn’t help but giggle at the pleasant juxtaposition.
You shuddered as he pulled himself from you. When he left you the relief of his weight leaving you was quickly overwhelmed with disappointment as he left the bed entirely. You pouted. Seeming to sense your gaze upon him, he turned back to you even as he continued into the bathroom. “I’m coming back!” He reassured, the words almost tinny as they bounced to you from the tiled bathroom.
The faucet ran briefly, the struggle of the water evident in the creaking of copper pipes, before he reappeared. Something warm wormed it’s way into your chest as you spotted the flannel clutched in his hand and you sank into the bed as he approached. His weight shifted the bed and you looked up at him with a shyness that didn’t suit the situation.
Lightly he lifted one leg. Kissing your calf he lightly dragged the flannel down the inside of your thigh.
How and why such shyness was overtaking you at this point you weren’t sure. It was just… cleaning you up after having made such a mess of you seemed almost more intimate than what you had shared before.
“Are you gonna sleep next to me?” You were almost afraid to ask; the question seemed ridiculous but you just wanted to be sure.
His ministrations paused, the flannel discarded somewhere out of sight as he let soft hands wander over your smooth skin. “If you’ll let me.”
You laughed, relief washing through you. “Spencer,” you began coyly, “I just let you fuck me into the mattress, there’s not much I wouldn’t let you do.”
Grinning down at you, excitement sparkling in his eyes, he moved to stretch out beside you. “C’mere,” he murmured, hands pulling you into him as sleepy eyes fluttered shut.
————————————
You had bounced into the hotel restaurant the next morning, a quickly cooling coffee now sitting before you that you didn’t feel any need to drink. Spencer had waited upstairs before joining you; you had decided it would be too suspicious for the pair of you to arrive at breakfast together despite the fact that there was no reason for such a trivial action to rouse suspicion. If anything, your avoidance of arriving together would be moretelling.
And so, he was still struggling against the coffee machine whilst you sat happily at a table with Morgan and JJ.
“How was your night?” The question jolted you, head jerking to face Morgan before you spluttered out a reply.
“Uh- yeah - fine.” You tried to dismiss your obvious fluster with a wave of your hand.
Morgan nodded thoughtfully before tilting his head to face JJ, an expectant eyebrow raised. Ignoring his gaze, the woman looked at you closely. Eyes sweeping over your features, giving no answer to the questioning gaze you shot her, she deflated.
Leaning to her left she hefted her heavy bag into her lap and began digging through it. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you,” she told you, confusing you even more so, “but I hate it when Morgan’s right.”
As she spoke she pulled a twenty dollar bill free from her bag and handed it unhappily to Morgan.
“Thank you,” he gave her smugly, pinching the cash from her fingers.
Mouth dropping open, you realised exactly what they had bet on and dropped your gaze to examine yourself. You had been so careful; covering any marks he may have left on you with long sleeves and perfectly taming your mess of hair. What had given you away?!
JJ didn’t need to be asked for an answer. “I’ve never seen you this happy in the morning, not ever.” She stressed the last word as though you weren’t aware of this fact. “And before your coffee too? It’s obvious.”
You opened your mouth to come up with some vague mistruth that could save you but Spencer’s voice cut you off.
“What’s going on?” He asked, cluelessly, as he moved to sit beside you.
Summary: You and Spencer continue your subtle back and forth over a few days. The weather, of all things, brings the tension between you to a boiling point. Trying to keep your flirtations quiet from a team of profilers is not as simple as you had hoped.
A/N: I think there will be a part 3 of this so please let me know if you’re interested! I can’t reply to comments because this is not my primary account (tumblr is weird) but I read them all, hence this part 2!
The weather had finally broken. A humidity remained but the rain barrelling against the windows of the car cooled the environment well enough. The downside of this sudden torrential downpour, however, was that you had just arrived back at the police station and you needed to head inside. The parking directly outside of the station was seemingly reserved for low-level deputies and you had been forced to park across the street. Peering out into the street through the fogged window, you grit your teeth. There seemed to be a river between you and your destination.
“I love my job,” you grumbled to yourself as you clicked the door open. The roar of the rain became almost overwhelming as you opened the door against it. Before you had even taken a step down onto the pavement you could feel your clothes sticking fast to your slicked skin, soaking through every layer in a matter of moments. The sound of your rushed steps towards the station were entirely drowned out by the hammering of the rain and you couldn’t even hear your own voice cursing against the stubbornness of the heavy front door.
The door swung shut behind you, allowing the more subtle sound of your soaked clothes drip-drip dripping against the linoleum floor to invade your ears. The noise an unnecessary reminder of how soaked through you were. You took a few steps into the building and cringed against the sound of your horribly squeaking shoes. Even your leather boots had not endured the downpour, wet toes wiggling in sodden socks.
You stopped mid-step and took a second to feel entirely sorry for yourself.
Frowning down at your, likely ruined, shoes you bent to unzip them. The combination of the wet floor, that you had so carelessly been the cause of, and your general lack of anything resembling balance became a deadly combination. You tottered to the side almost immediately, left arm shooting up in a fruitless attempt to correct yourself and you grimaced as you felt yourself begin to tip entirely to the side.
“Woah,” a pair of hands narrowly kept you from whacking your head on the side of a desk. As you let the hands right you, you sighed a grateful thanks before looking up to identify your saviour. Warm eyes met yours, in sharp contrast to the stinging chill of the rain that clung to you, and Spencer took care to not remove his hands. As much as the warmth of them did prevent you from shivering, the already thin fabric of your shirt seemed to provide no barrier between his large hand and your bare skin. The feeling inspired a need within you to find out what his hands would feel like touching you somewhere else, everywhere else.
You shivered visibly. Spencer, thankfully, seemed to attribute this motion to your current condition but truthfully you felt so suddenly warm that you barely noticed the cold press of your clothes. “Are you okay?” He asked hastily, full of an earnest concern that sent your lips twitching upwards. “You’re-“ he cut himself off instantly as his eyes dropped to your figure. Tongue swiping over his lips, he hurried out a word that likely hadn’t been his original intention; “wet.” His voice had dropped an octave from one word to the next, a raspy nature to his tone that you had never had the pleasure of hearing before, and his gaze jumped back up to yours almost guiltily.
The white shirt you had worn had, in fact, originally been for his benefit. Pairing it with a lacy black bra that you had hoped would provide him with distraction whenever you happened to be in the right lighting had been your more modest plan of action. It had worked, delectably well, and you were certain he knew that it had been purposeful.
After the third instance of catching his eyes on your figure, lips parted ever so slightly in an almost awestruck manner, he had started an assault of his own. A large palm on the small of your back as he moved past you, beckoning you over to him with a pair of crooked fingers, and even licking his thumb and forefinger before leafing through papers. Matching your gaze in silent challenge each time, of course.
But, now, the rain had seemingly decided the subtlety of the last few days should come to an end. The fabric of your shirt was now almost entirely see through, the fabric clinging to your figure in a way that Spencer clearly appreciated if the tightening of his hands upon your arms was any indication.
The frustration he had built in you over the past few days injected a boldness into your next actions. Dropping your chin slightly, you looked up at him through batting lashes, and murmured your response. “Mhm,” you assented, “I’m wet all over.”
A noise caught in his throat at your obvious implication, hand clenching and unclenching on your arm as his lips fumbled and struggled over a response he never managed to give. Before his lips could form the words he had worked so hard to find, his eyes left you completely and followed the movement of someone else.
Recognising that one of the few things that could pull his attention so entirely from you was somebody else looking at you the same way hehad been, you followed his gaze with an aggravated curiosity. Sure enough, an officer you had not even been introduced to had more than noticed the nature of your shirt. Quickly, he shrunk beneath yours and the doctor’s less than impressed attention and hurried off chastened.
Standing up straighter, Spencer moved closer to you and his eyes darted over the room to ensure that hiswas the only rapt attention upon you. You almost had to take a step back at how close he got to you, trying desperately to stifle the giggle that filled you as you realised he was trying to somehow hide you from sight with his own body. Looking down at you, expression lightening as he noted the breathless chuckle you didn’t manage to quash, he quickly asked; “do you have a change of clothes?”
Shaking your head no, you watched as he stepped back and fiddled with the hem of his sweater. Realising immediately what he was planning to do, and doubting entirely that you could physically handle being engulfed by the warmth of an item of his clothing, you immediately put your hands over his to halt him. “Reid, I’ll be fine, you don’t have to do that.”
Caramel eyes darting over your head in another sweeping check of the room, he shook his head and continued his pursuit of undressing. “It’s fine really,” the next words were muffled as the garment caught awkwardly over his head, “I don’t want you to get cold.”
You let your eyes sweep appraisingly over his lithe figure, watching him shift and move with an almost rapt fascination as he struggled, knowing those eyes stood no chance of catching you. Eventually, you moved forward to help him with gentle hands. “Let me help.”
The pair of you, working together, managed to free him. The garment was bundled in one of his large hands and he held it out for you to take. “Really it’s fine, my clothes will dry.” You half-heartedly rejected his offer, wondering if you could get him to admit the main reason he wanted to swaddle you in his sweater.
As much as you were usually able to fluster the words straight out of Spencer’s mind, this time he was surprisingly apt at holding it together. A testament to how much he wanted to ensure his welcomed gaze was the onlyone you received. “Actually, the wetness of your clothes can drop your body temperature as much as three degrees.” There was something so charming about his tone of voice when he fell into an explanation like this. Something so charming, in fact, that you took the sweater from his hand. “That might not seem like much but even the drop of a single degree can cause your body severe distress. You know most people don’t even realise it but it only takes an internal temperature drop of two degrees to cause hypothermia.”
“Huh, I didn’t know that.” Came your equally intelligent reply, your statement half muffled as you pulled the garment over your head. “You’ve convinced me, doc.”
In all of your attempts to fluster the man, all of your flirtatious looks and touches, you could never have predicted the incredible effect that the mere sight of you in his clothes would produce. There was something different in his response to you now though, instead of an intense heat behind his eyes there was something pure and joyful in his gaze. A true smile pulled his lips up, not like the smirks and grins you had earned before, his eyes crinkling in the corners with the motion.
Feeling suddenly self-conscious under this new type of gaze, you pulled your hands beneath the overlong sleeves of his sweater. “Better?” You asked, sudden shyness casting your eyes to your shifting feet before you forced them back up.
Unfortunately, his likely charming response was cut off by JJ’s approaching voice. “Hey, Spence,” she started, dragging your attention from each other as she came to a stop beside the pair of you, “Hotch wanted…” she trailed off as she noticed your state of dress. Eyebrows raising as she surveyed you, she could barely fight the smirk from her face. “What happened here?”
For the life of you, you couldn’t come up with the reasonable version of the events that had led to this. It wasall perfectly reasonable in reality, but somehow it still felt too salacious to share with someone else, and you stuttered through your reply.
Ever your hero, Spencer saved you from having to answer. “What did Hotch want?” He less than subtly redirected.
Flashing him the most grateful expression you could subtly muster, you pulled the collar of his sweater over your chin as you ducked your head. JJ didn’t seem to notice your expression, separating a stack of papers from the pile in her hands, but Spencer did. Again, there was a crinkle in the corner of his eyes as he smiled down at you – the papers JJ was trying to press into his hands ignored to the point that they almost fluttered to the floor in a messy pile. JJ caught them at the last minute, sending a huffing glance to the man as she pushed them more securely into his hands.
“Sorry,” he muttered, before looking to the papers with increasing interest. “I- uh- I’m gonna take a look at this?” He almost asked, looking at you as though for permission before rushing off as you nodded with a shrug,
You watched him go, nearly running into a detective as he kept his eyes on the paper, with a smile softening your features before JJ stepped into your line of sight. A smirk pulled her lips up as she looked over you with arched brows, “I need to know the story behind this.” Alongside her request, she pointedly waved her hands over your figure.
Judging by the knowing look in her eye, it seemed clear that your denial would do nothing but amuse her further. “I was cold,” you told her, hopelessly.
“Right,” she answered, over enunciating the single word to showcase her amusement.
——
The case wrapped up in a similar frenzy to the weather. Getting increasingly intense with every tick of the clock until, eventually, the unsub was in your custody. The local pd had taken over interrogation of the suspect, leaving the team to pack up and head home.
Except, the weather had other plans.
Instead of calming it continued to become erratic and unpredictable; rain beating against the windows as wind whistled through the gaps in the bottom of the door. According to Hotch’s phone, the weather was set to settle mid-morning tomorrow but the jet would be unable to take off until then.
The fast food Hotch had bought you all had softened the blow significantly. You had nearly finished, after the long day you had almost inhaled your food and were now sipping on a soda across from Reid. You had been forced to return his sweater, quite unhappily, to instead place a bulletproof vest over your chest. The vest itself had long since been removed, but it had felt too telling to ask for the sweater back.
The scraping sound of Morgan’s chair drew you from your thoughts and you watched as the man muttered a quick “be right back,” before marching over to Hotch who had just entered the room.
“What’s he up to?” You asked, curious gaze turned on the women beside you. JJ shrugged carelessly but shared a less than subtle conspiratorial glance with Prentiss; something very fishy was going on here. You became immediately distracted from their strange interaction when you shifted in your seat, legs just happening to knock against those belonging to the man across from you. It wasn’t that unlikely, you supposed, his long legs barely fit under the table as it was and they had been encroaching on your space for the entire meal.
Immediately, you jumped on the opportunity. Turning to JJ you struck up a conversation, asking her about Henry and letting her run with the topic, whilst your left foot softly ran along the inside of the doctor’s calf. A stifled cough emanated from him as his leg twitched beneath your touch but he didn’t move away. You could feel his eyes burning into you, their intensity in your periphery earning him a cursory glance and nothing more.
Eyes fixed on JJ, nodding along to her words despite not listening to a single syllable, you allowed your foot to venture higher. As your toes roamed above his knee and towards his thigh his fingers fumbled with the sauce packet he had been struggling to open – leaving it tumbling to the carpeted floor underneath the table.
JJ trailed off as she noticed the fumbling action. Spencer’s eyes flashed over the other women as he mumbled a quick “I’ll just pick that up,” but then his eyes moved to you. The glint within them as he ducked underneath the table tensed your muscles as you realised the dropped item had been premeditated.
You held your breath as he disappeared from view, unsure what really to expect from the man now under the table. You pulled your leg back towards yourself, a nervous manoeuvre that he immediately halted with a warm hand on your ankle. “There it is,” he announced, leaning forwards to grab the dropped item. You couldn’t see him but you knew he leant forwards for it. It was obvious in the way his body shifted towards your leg, hand slowly working from your ankle to your knee in a languid sweeping motion. Your leg jerked upwards at feel of his fingers just grazing your inner thigh. The noise that caught in your throat was subtle compared to the way your knee bashed into the table and sent the whole thing jerking upwards.
Stifled laughter sent your glare towards Prentiss but her gaze quickly raised to Morgan’s returning figure. “Everything alright?”
Nodding rapidly, he turned to the freshly reappeared Reid. With a hand gripping his shoulder, rooting the doctor’s attention to him, he quickly explained his previous exit. “Reid, I-uh- just spoke to Hotch.” He began, eyes darting to the other women at the table before fixing back on Spencer, “hauling that unsub up the stairs tore my back up. I need a room to myself tonight.” Then, gaze shifting between you and the doctor, he sealed your fate. “You two alright to share for tonight?”
The two of you immediately locked eyes. Spencer’s mouth dropped open but no sound managed to escape whilst your lips remained shut but a strange stutter fought to be heard.
Pulling yourself together, with a shake of your head and by forcing your stare from Spencer, you looked up to Morgan dubiously. “You’re taking my room?” You sputtered out. It wasn’t often the team were forced to double up, but on the occasions you were you took turns to have the room to yourself. This time it had been your turn, much earned after sharing with JJ and listening to her not quite whispering down the phone to Will at 2am, and you had relished all the extra space in the previous warm weather.
The twitching of Morgan’s lips informed you that he was fighting back a laugh. “If that’s okay with you?”
Raising an eyebrow, sensing the plot behind this sudden development, you huffed out a question you already knew the answer to. “Do I have a choice?”
Hand on his chest, Morgan stepped back with an exaggerated look of faux hurt. “You want me to suffer?”
Grimacing, you fished in your jacket pocket for the cool metal of your room key. Pulling the key out by the comically large numbered keyring, you tossed it to Morgan. “Just let me get my bag,” you told him, defeated.
Summary: After a reading lesson with your favourite colleague, you become entirely distracted with his hands. To begin with, it doesn’t seem like he’s noticed but things aren’t always what they seem.
A/N: I wasn’t kidding when I said multi-fandom! I’ve been binging Criminal Minds and couldn’t resist.
It had all started so innocently.
It had been a quiet few days, strangely so for the BAU, but unfortunately for you that also meant that paperwork had become the top priority.
Weighed down by the compact text you were trying your best to skim through, you quickly gave up and slapped the heavy file onto your already cluttered desk. Groaning, you rubbed the heels of your hands over your tired eyes.
“You okay?” Came a familiar voice from your left.
Swinging your chair to face Spencer, you gave him a lazy smile – the kind you knew made his eyes dart down to your lips, as much as he always clearly tried to stop himself. Smile widening into a full grin as he did exactly as you anticipated, you decided to take pity on him with a distraction.
Pushing the discarded file further from yourself on the desk, you looked to his uncluttered workspace and felt an envy burn through you. “How come you don’t have any paperwork?” Your whined question had been paired with a childish pout of your lips, something that had pulled his eyes straight back to them. Looking down to your hands, you wryly considered the fact that you weren’t doing a particularly fantastic job of distracting his easily diverted attention.
When he recovered himself, attention finally seeming to focus on the question you had posed, he shook his head as though to clear it before answering. Tapping his pen against the desk in an almost nervous manoeuvre, he twisted his lips with the words; “well, about eighty percent of all paperwork is simply reading. So, it doesn’t take me that long and…” He trailed off at the squeaking sound of your chair’s wheels shifting – eyes darting to you as you stood and moved to his desk.
“Teach me,” you requested playfully.
As was often the case, the doctor was unsure how exactly to respond to your playfulness. This time he settled into a serious response – seemingly taken aback by your request, he looked at you with a crinkled brow. “It’s not something you can learn in ten minutes,” he tried to reason.
One hand on the back of his chair, you peered over his shoulder. “C’mon,” you murmured close to his ear, “indulge me, doc.”
As you had anticipated, he obliged you quickly.
To begin with, he had simply talked you through how it worked. You were surprised by how much verbal explanation was apparently required but you had always been happy to listen to him ramble on about anything and everything. After the stress that had bunched your shoulders due to your excessive paperwork, it was relaxing to listen to his voice.
Eventually, he moved onto a practical demonstration. And that was when disaster struck.
It had always been fairly obvious to you that you found Spencer attractive. Your eyes would often linger a little too often, albeit more subtly than his, and your heart often fluttered when you looked at him. The way that he often looked at you, unable to stop himself despite the obvious heaviness in his gaze, never bothered you. If some small town local detective ever looked at you with that same, subtle longing, you would immediately make it clear you were not interested. Those kind of looks felt uncomfortable because you didn’t want them. But with Spencer, it was entirely different. You almost revelled in how hard he clearly found it to keep his eyes off you.
You had always felt as though you held the power in your not-quite-relationship with him, able to pull his gaze to you whenever you craved it but always in control of your own reactions to him.
Until this fateful afternoon, at least.
The lithe finger that slid down the page took entirely too much of your attention, your mind wandering over all the possibilities attached to his large hands. Tongue darting out to wet suddenly dry lips, you felt the hand gripping the back of his chair tightening as your mind wandered a little too far from the very professional workplace you were currently occupying.
Of course, he noticed the change in your demeanour. “Are you okay?”
Delayed, your brain struggled over a response. “Uh…” you let out dumbly before forming a more coherent response that was still filled with stuttered pauses. “Yeah, I’m fine… J-just trying to – uh – keep up.”
Confusion crimpled his features briefly before he nodded offhandedly and continued his instruction; once again drawing your eyes to his fingers and sending your thoughts scattering in a salacious direction once again. How you were supposed to keep your composure, in this situation you had placed yourself in no less, you weren’t sure.
Luckily for you, your job very rarely allowed long periods of relaxation and the pair of you were quickly interrupted by Garcia’s clacking heels. “We’ve got a case, kids!” Her voice whizzed past the two of you, almost trailing behind her as she tottered past you.
Strangely, instead of jumping into action as you normally would, the pair of you paused. Eyes catching one another, a moment of silence stretched between the two of you. Eyes ducking shyly from yours after only a more extended gaze, he closed the book slowly and placed the heavy tome back on his desk. “We should get going,” the words were less than enthusiastic and he made no immediate attempt to move away from you.
Although, neither did you. Instead, you met his gaze once more.
You were forced to move, however, when Morgan appeared behind the two of you. “You two not hear the woman?” he asked, a grip on your shoulder grounding you into reality. “Let’s go,” he encouraged, a hand gesturing for you to move.
Spencer very quickly came to his senses and jumped up from his chair, sending it skittering backwards on its wheels in his haste to escape. He spared you a final glance before rushing away entirely.
Your thoughts threatened to spiral over his hands once more but Morgan unknowingly pulled you back. “He alright?”
Too quickly, you responded with an aggressive nod. “Think so,” you muttered before rushing to the meeting room.
——————————————————————————
As days went by, your ability to concentrate around Spencer diminished at an alarming pace.
The first time it happened again, the pair of you were discussing case details in the cramped spare office of a police station in rural Louisiana. The room was hot, to put it mildly. You had popped loose the top few buttons of your shirt, your modesty mostly covered by a black camisole you wore underneath but even that barely allowed you relief. It was almost hard to look at Reid, with all his layers of clothing still firmly in place, the mere appearance of his sweater vest almost infuriating in this heat. How could he still be wearing that?
The air conditioning unit stuttered uselessly in the corner as you fanned yourself with a crudely folded paper fan. He faltered in his words, mouth opening as if to say something else but clicking back shut when he thought better. “What?” You asked, suddenly impatient.
Clearing his throat awkwardly, he shifted in his seat, eyes darting back up to your eyes when he noticed your gaze. You felt some relief when you wondered over where exactly those eyes had darted up from. Although that thought sent an entirely new heat stifling through the room.
“Well,” he started slowly, before launching into a very in character explanation. “Fanning yourself is only going to make you warmer.” Immediately believing him, even without the imminent explanation, you tossed your poorly made fan back onto the table. “The contraction of your muscle actually creates heat in your body and therefore actually warms the air around you even more-so.”
You grumbled incoherently in response.
“Sorry,” he gave you, sheepish.
Perplexed, you leaned further over the table. “Why? You’re stopping me from overheating.” He nodded, eyes returning unseeingly to the papers before him. “Although,” you injected enough playfulness into your tone that he immediately looked back up with that perfect mix of excitement and trepidation. “You could fan me, huh? Then I wouldn’t get too hot.” You gave him an obvious wink, letting him know you weren’t really expecting him to perform such a service for you.
Still, in a pedantic show of dramatics, you slid the fan over the table towards him. You were gifted a lopsided grin as he leaned forward to take the outstretched object from you. Just briefly, the pads of his fingers brushed against yours before he pinched the folded paper from your grip.
Too obviously, you sucked in a heavy breath at the contact but he seemed too distracted by the dimensions of your fan to notice. “You know if you wanted to make this more effective you should actually fold it more like this.” Slender fingers turned the paper over, creasing it multiple times and presenting the finished product to you with a grin. “See?”
You would have replied, surely, were you not so distracted. His hands worked so quickly, effectively – every movement almost exactly calculated to complete his task. It was almost impossible not to consider other tasks he could complete with similar dexterity and efficiency.
You weren’t entirely sure what was wrong with you. It wasn’t like you to get so stuck on something so simple, but it was beginning to severely impact your ability to think around the man.
The second time it happened was immediately afterwards, except there were far too many witnesses for you to come away unscathed.
The rest of the team rapidly bundled into the small room, their body heat causing you to almost melt into your chair but you kept your groan of aggravation to yourself. Prentiss almost collapsed into the chair beside you; the pair of you sharing an overheated look of similar distress.
Quickly, Hotch directed the group to summarise what details had been gathered about the case. Morgan and Prentiss quickly confirmed they had found nothing of particular interest from the victim’s home; Rossi explained that the crime scene indicated high levels of aggression; and JJ gave a rundown of her conversation with the wife.
When it was time to talk through the geographical profile, you were more than happy to let Reid jump up and explain your work to the team. It seemed far easier than peeling yourself out of the chair and sweating through an explanation that Spencer would enjoy delivering far more than you. Although your plan failed almost immediately.
Spencer had always been expressive with his hands, but you swore there was something different about how he used them in this explanation. His fingertips slid over the circles he had marked onto the map as he described… something… to the team. You reassured yourself that it didn’t really matter if you didn’t listen; you had worked up this profile with him so you could afford a little distraction.
In resistance to biting your bottom lip, you chewed on the end of your pencil in a mock show of thoughtfulness. But then, something strange happened. With his fingers still running along the lines of the map and his mouth still working to explain his train of thought, his honey eyes flickered over to yours. It was a quick little look, something strange sparkling in his eyes, but he didn’t stumble in his words as he usually would and he looked away so quickly you could forgive yourself for considering it a mere glance.
That was until he looked back at you. It was subtle enough that no one else seemed to notice, and his lips quirked up slightly before he looked away and continued with his explanation. He tapped one particular spot on the map with a pair of fingers before circling them around the spot once and moving on to do the same with two other locations. By the time his fingers had moved off the board entirely your eyes narrowed as you stared him down. He couldn’t know what he was doing to you, surely he couldn’t.
Hotch’s voice quickly commanded the attention of the room. Well, all except for yours and the doctor’s. Boldly, Spencer caught your gaze again and at the sight of your intensity trained on him he was forced to stifle a gleeful yet breathy laugh. Internally, you cursed him.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
Luckily, you managed to tune back into the conversation in time to hear Hotch’s orders. Thankfully, you weren’t expected to move from this room. Unfortunately neither was Spencer. The two of you tasked instead with narrowing down the location even further.
Your pencil was still caught between your teeth, eyes refusing to leave the back of Spencer’s head. He had turned to look at the board again, leaving himself free from your dissecting gaze as the others quickly left the room.
“Looks like the heat’s getting to you, huh?” The unexpected voice beside you pulled a yelp from you and sent the abused pencil clattering against the table.
Eyes darting to face him, narrowing in a glare this time, you scolded him. “Jeez, Morgan, you scared the shit outta me.”
“Not my fault you’re so distracted,” he told you. The wickedly amused smirk he paired with the words made you sink several centimetres in your chair. Of course Morgan noticed your obvious distraction at the hands of Reid.
Embarrassment flooded your cheeks as you sent him a half-hearted glare. “Bite me,” you bit out, grumbling as he chuckled and left the room.
Eyes following Morgan from the room, Spencer quickly approached you as the door clicked closed. Instead of taking the chair he had previously occupied, he dropped into the one directly beside yours. Raising an eyebrow at him, you tried to follow his example and concentrate on the board in front of you. That clearly was not where he desired your attention, however, as he quickly began thrumming his fingers against the desk.
They caught your eye, as he had likely calculated they would, but you resolutely decided it was time to take control of this situation. He had enjoyed this for far too long.
You stood up quickly. With a single, huffed iteration of his name you managed to gain all of his attention. He gave a curious hum in response, eyes darting to you and immediately shining with that addictive mix of excited trepidation at your approach. You turned his chair for him, leaving him looking up at you and you revelled in the way his Adam’s apple visibly bobbed as he craned his neck.
“It’s like a thousand degrees in here, Reid.” You began, softly untucking his tie from his vest. You moved slowly, ensuring he knew he could pull away if that’s what he really wanted. If anything he shifted imperceptibly towards your hands. “Let’s loosen this tie a little, hm?”
“Uh-“ he struggled, squirming as your fingers brushed his neck, “sure.”
Loosening the already wonky tie was too quick, you wanted him to suffer a little longer. Tucking the loosened tie back into his vest you tapped his chest lightly as you wondered over what your next move should be. His top button was rarely done up and today was no exception but the button below it was tightly secured.
Slowly, you walked your fingers up his chest and towards this button. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as your fingers stopped over your target. You looked up to his eyes as though to ask permission and he tilted his head to the side, eyes trained so steadily on yours. You felt his hand close over your wrist, two fingers swiping over your hammering pulse. At the sensation, he shot you a smirk filled with pride.
Maybe he was still winning in this strange game of yours. It didn’t really matter, you were enjoying yourself too much to continue keeping score.
With one hand, you skilfully undid the button. Hooking one finger beneath the fabric, allowing your knuckle to brush against the skin you had just revealed, you pulled the fabric open by mere millimetres. It was doubtful anyone else in this situation would find such a small reveal so intensely satisfying, but the idea that he was letting you do this in only a semi-private space sent your heart pounding just a little more. Something he clearly noticed, given the widening of his grin as his fingers pressed slightly over your pulse.
Distantly recalling that the pair of you were actually at work right now, you flattened your palm against his chest and pushed him back slightly in his chair. “Much better,” you lamented, softly pulling your wrist free and turning back to your own chair.
“Shall we get back to work?” You asked, as you dropped into the chair, the playful tone never quite escaping your voice.
“Oh my god, look, Spencer look!” you stopped in your tracks.
“What?”
Tearing your hand free from the hold he had on it, you squealed, “swings!” and bolted towards the playground you’d spotted.
You couldn’t sit down fast enough, and as soon as your bottom touched the seat, you beamed up at Spencer. Grinning at your display of enthusiasm, he slowly sauntered over to sit down on the one next to you.
Giggling as you pushed off with your feet, you felt like a little kid again.
“I haven’t been on a swing in years!”
“Me neither,” he said softly, as he just sat there, watching you go.
“No, you don’t understand, this used to be my favourite thing in the entire world!” you tried to go higher, “there was a swing in the garden growing up, and I’d be out there every day for hours. It was this safe little bubble that existed out of time and space. When I was there, nothing could hurt me. It was just me, the trees, and the chickens.”
“Chickens?”
“Yeah, my family had chickens back then. Their coop was right next to the swing set.”
Looking back at him, you saw the blissful expression on his face, “what?”
His thoughts were already plastered all over his face, but he still breathed out, “I love you so much.”
Giggling, you turned your head slightly away from him, trying and failing to hide your flustered reaction. Running your fingers up and down the chains, you offered, “do you want me to push you?”
Spencer’s Reid fics inspired by Sara Bareilles’s album “Amidst the Chaos”
What is this? Every time I listened to this album, I got inspired to write. So here you can find some results of it. My humble tribute to the amazing Sara Bareilles. I hope that if she sees this someday, don’t get mad at my bad writing.
Summary:A field operation goes wrong, and you lose the most important person in your life. That’s what you thought for seven months.
Word Count: 5k
Warnings:A character’s death and mourning are mentioned and discussed. Pregnancy is shown and discussed. A mention of possible abortion (not actually happening). Strong words. A character faint and needs medical attention. Angst with a happy ending.
A/N:Hey, my loves! I wrote this one based on this request I got the past weekend. Are you familiar with Doyle’s arc? Here is, but it’s not Emily faking her death; it’s Spencer. I enjoyed writing this one, although it was painful in some parts. You can send me requests! I would love to work on those.
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Your life has been pretty good, in your opinion. It’s not like you haven’t been through dark times for a few years, but once you grew up and followed your dreams, things got a lot better. You became a reputable FBI agent working at the BAU, one of the most elite groups in the bureau. You earned excellent colleagues who are also your friends and your family. And you met Spencer Reid, your fiancee, the man who can light up your days and rock your nights.
First I wanted to thank all of you for your kind comments and your support. Writing stories for the Criminal Minds fandom has given me so much joy over the last few months and I am grateful to be a part of this community.
So now that over 500 of you lovely people are following my blog, I decided to host a little Criminal Minds Writing Challenge to celebrate this milestone. I’m inviting anyone who wants to participate to write a oneshot/blurb inspired by one (or more) of the following dialogue prompts.Special thanks to my friend @imagining-in-the-margins for providing some of the prompts and helping me with this challenge!
Rules:
Write a Criminal Minds oneshot/blurb inspired by one or more of the following dialogue prompts. Your story can be a readerinsert or a character x charactership
Tag me in your story or message me the link until Sunday, July 3rd
Your story can be any genre and trope but smut fics are only to be submitted by adults (18+)
Please include a summary, word count, relevant content warnings, the pairing and the prompt(s) you chose
I will read your story, make a masterlist of all the works and leave a comment on each of them to give back a little bit of the support I have been receiving.
Fluff Prompts:
“Are you trying to impress me?” - “Is it working?”
“Maybe you should listen to your heart?” - “How am I supposed to do that when it already belongs to you?”
“I would give up everything if it meant you would let me hold you even for just a second.”
ok ok ok i’m going to write my first smut tonight. i think it should be about spencer, since that’s where it all started sooooo it should come out tonight if i have the time or tomorrow night
also you may have noticed they pronouns in my bio. i added they/them because i would really like to try these out. i have been questioning my gender identity since i was a child so i think using these pronouns will really help. i hope you respect that. ❤️
