request: Hey, I’ve got a Spence request! It’s Christmas at the FBI, and the team has done Secret Santa, and you got Spencer, your best friend who you have fancied since you started at the FBI 5 years ago. You all go to Rossi’s to spend the evening and morning, so you can all drink & not drive home. After presents and a few drinks, you and Spence end up under the mistletoe where he declares his feelings in front of the whole team, who encouraged him to tell you how he feels, before you arrived to the party

a/n: i didn’t expect to write this much, it was 7 pages on google docs. i am pretty proud of this tho.

warnings: FLUFF

word count: 3.6k

You looked around at the lights and garland that had adorned the bullpen as you entered the BAU for the first time after arriving home from the case. You grinned from ear to ear like a child as you took in the sight. Spencer was right behind you, pausing to take in the sight beside you. He looked down at you, still in awe, and smiled. You looked so beautiful to him under all those shining lights, and you just looked happier than you had in recent weeks. Christmas was usually tough for you anyway, and this year was no exception. Nonetheless, you persevered. Rossi had been planning a BAU Christmas party for a little bit over a month, with the help of you and Garcia, to make it the most magical Christmas any of you had had in a pretty long time. Needless to say, getting home from the case was more exciting than it usually was.

You tugged your go bag back to your desk and plopped down in your chair, rubbing your eyes. It was around 7pm and you all were going to Rossi’s right from the office to start the festivities. Knowing you wouldn’t be driving home, you had a second go bag packed and ready in your car, along with Spencer’s since you guys had carpooled. When you started at the BAU around 5 years ago, you and Spencer instantly became best friends. Granted, it took him a long time to really break out of his shell of awkwardness, but even then he was very comfortable around you. It was something about you that really made him feel, for lack of a better word, special. Not in the way that he was typically treated for being a genius, but just for being Spencer. That’s what Spencer loved most about you- the way you admired him for just being him. Not because he was a child prodigy and not because he was a genius. He was just Spencer.

Not to mention you always let him ramble and spill facts without ever telling him to shut up, or even interrupting him. Nevertheless, you quickly became very close, especially when you learned your apartment was right down the street from his. That’s when you two started carpooling to the office together. You always stopped at the local coffee shop or Starbucks to feed your coffee addictions, and went home around the same time every night. Spencer always made sure you made it inside safe, and vice versa. The funny thing was, for as incredible as you both were at your jobs as profilers for the BAU, neither of you had the faintest idea that you were in love with each other. Everyone in the entire building knew except for you two. Even Hotch was rooting for you two to get together.

“Ready to go, Spence?” You asked, shooting him a huge grin. He grins back and nods, throwing his bag over his head like he always did. You followed him out the door and to your car and drove yourselves to Rossi’s mansion. The ride was relatively quiet, Spencer had whipped out the book he started on the plane because he absolutely had to know how it ended, and of course he could finish it before you made it to Rossi’s.

“Did you do the secret santa?” You asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah. Did you?”

“Yep.” You smiled to yourself. You actually got Spencer, and you couldn’t have been more excited. Regardless of whether you had gotten him for secret santa, you were planning to get him a little something anyway. Actually, a few things. You wracked your brain for a few days, wondering what Dr. Spencer Reid would like that he didn’t already have. Of course, you started with a giftcard to his favorite bookstore, along with the newest edition of his favorite collection of Edgar Allen Poe stories. You also got him a giftcard to Starbucks, to make up for all the times he’d paid for your coffee, despite your protests. You made him your famous chocolate chip cookies and your favorite thing? The Halloween Christmas sweater you’d found and KNEW you had to get it for him. He never understood the point of an ugly Christmas sweater, so you figured you would get one that celebrates his favorite holiday with the edition of it celebrating Christmas. You could already see the look on his face when he opened his gifts later that night.

“Hey Spence, can you help me?” Spencer only brought a gift bag with the edition of his overnight bag, meanwhile you had a couple bags, along with two bottles of wine for Rossi and your own overnight bag. He grabbed your overnight bag and a bottle of wine and headed up to the door with you following behind, praying you didn’t slip on any ice.

You made it to the door unscathed, being greeted by Prentiss who was already a glass of wine deep.

“It’s party time!” She said upon opening the door. You and Spencer grinned and followed her inside, kicking the door shut behind you. Everyone was already there, starting on the spiked eggnog drinks without you guys.

“Hey, I told you guys to wait for us!” You whined as you set your presents underneath Rossi’s massive Christmas tree. The others looked away and took sips of their drinks, earning a small glare from you. You opted to start with a glass of white wine and escalate from there later. You took a long sip as you sat along the counter beside JJ. She held up her hands in mock defense.

“I told them they should wait but no one ever listens to me!” You giggled a little and patted JJ’s shoulder sympathetically.

“I hear you. They never listen to me either,” You said, shooting a look in Spencer’s direction in particular. As if he felt your eyes on his back, he turned around and looked at you. When he saw you were already looking at him, he raised his eyebrows in question. You shook your head and he shrugged, returning to his conversation with Morgan and Rossi. Penelope was doing peppermint vodka shots with Prentiss while Hotch watched, somewhat amused as Emily started choking on hers. You smiled as you watched your friends ease into the party so quickly after such a long case. It warmed your heart to see them relaxed.

“I don’t know, Rossi. What if it ruins our friendship?” Reid asked, his voice small. He only softened his voice like that when he was unsure of himself.

“Look, kid. I may be old, but I do have eyes. She loves you, Reid.” Rossi said.

“Trust me, Pretty Boy. Everyone here sees the way you look at each other.” Derek agreed, taking a sip of his beer.

Spencer chewed on his lip thoughtfully when he felt eyes on his back. He turned back to see you staring at him, where you began giggling with JJ. Spencer raised his eyebrows as if to ask, “Did you need me?” and you shook your head. He shrugged and turned back to Rossi, who was smirking. He shared a look with Derek and walked over to Hotch, who was now forcing Emily to drink more water.

“Like I said, trust me.” Derek said quietly as he left Spencer in the center of the kitchen to his thoughts. They were quickly interrupted as Rossi announced it was time for presents. Spencer grinned, this was what he was the most excited for. He had you for secret santa and he knew he really nailed his gift to you this year. He knew you better than anyone, and thanks to his eidetic memory, he knew everything that you had mentioned in passing were small things that you wanted. Including the necklace that you’d pointed out in the jewelry shop down the street from your apartments 8 months and 29 days ago, on your way to Starbucks. You gazed at it longingly every single time you passed by, but never could justify purchasing it for yourself.

“Alright kiddos, gather round.” Rossi said. Everyone made their way to the couches and sat as you helped to hand out presents.

“Morgan, these are yours. No one open anything until everyone has a gift!” You stared at Emily in particular, who grinned sheepishly. Hotch placed a hand on her leg and smiled at her, knowingly.

“JJ, this bag is yours. Hmm, Garcia this one is yours, Emily, Hotch,” You handed them out one by one. “Ah, here’s yours Spence.” You hauled a couple bags over, and his eyes widened at the sheer amount of stuff adorning both bags.

“Here’s yours, Rossi, and I just found mine!” You sat on the floor and crossed your legs out in front of you.

“Alright, how are we doing this?” Morgan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do we all just open at the same time orrr…”

“No, someone can go first and each person who has the person opening goes next, makes sense?” Everyone nodded. “Rossi, you can go first since you oh so graciously hosted. And are letting us stay the night.” You added. Everyone laughed as David shook his head, quickly tearing into the bright wrapping paper. His jaw dropped slightly as he pulled out a box of cigars.

“I told you before, my dad was a cigar aficionado. I know what you like, Rossi.” Derek winked. Rossi rose and said a few words of excitement in Italian before kissing Derek on both cheeks and pulling him into a hug. He laughed and clapped Rossi on the back before returning to his seat, and digging into the gift bag in front of him.

“Alright, I see you secret santa!” Derek pulled out a Chicago Cubs baseball jersey, along with a few other baseball related things.

“I had to delve a bit more into the sports world than I’m used to, but i’m really glad you like it.” Emily smiled. He pulled her into a tight hug.

“Okay Em, you can go.” You wiggled your eyebrows as she fake glared, ripping her wrapping paper to shreds.

“Oh my God! I love it!” Prentiss held up a couple different books by her favorite author, Kurt Vonnegut. JJ grinned.

“Look deeper.” Prentiss dug deeper into the bag and pulled out a beautiful set of hand painted wine glasses.

“JJ, these are beautiful!” Prentiss gave her a hug and started taking them out of the box and passing them around to those that were drinking wine, or planned on it later. She disappeared into the kitchen to clean the glasses and fetch the wine.

“Alright JJ, it’s your turn!” You were especially eager for this one, knowing that Spencer would be coming up soon and you could finally see the look on his face. You’d had the gifts in your possession for 2 weeks and his turn could not come fast enough.

Finally, it was Spencer’s turn. You watched as he tore into the neatly wrapped gift box first. You knew he’d open that one first because it was the biggest box. He pulled the sweater out, seemingly confused at first, before it dawned on him.

“Oh my God, it’s a Halloween Christmas sweater! I love it!” He grinned and took off his blazer, revealing the tshirt beneath. He threw the sweater overtop and pulled the sleeves to his elbows, grinning with the joy of a little kid. He was so excited that he almost forgot about the other presents on the floor beside him. He finally made eye contact with you and you indicated he had other things to open. He sat back down, a slight blush crossing his cheeks as he opened the book and gift cards.

“I love everything, thank you so so much, (Y/N).” He said, the look on his face screaming genuine happiness and excitement.

“Actually, there’s one more thing.” He furrowed his eyebrows as you snuck around behind the tray, retrieving the tin of cookies you’d hidden back there, fully knowing the vulchers you called friends would find them if you put them anywhere else. Spencer’s jaw dropped.

“Are those your famous chocolate chip cookies?!” He asked, incredulous. He knew they were incredibly special to you, which is why it was so rare for you to make them. You grinned and nodded. He jumped up, threw the tin on the sofa, and pulled you into a hug. He picked you up a little, causing you to giggle uncontrollably.

“Thank you endlessly, (Y/N).” He said quietly, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. A deep blush rose to your cheeks. As you both pulled away, you noticed Spencer was blushing like crazy too.

“I guess that leaves me!” You said, noticing everyone else had opened their presents. You grinned as you dug into yours, pulling out a Starbucks gift card, a new Starbucks tumbler to replace the one you broke a few weeks back, the anniversary copy of your favorite book, (Y/F/B), and finally, a small, blue velvet box was crammed at the very bottom of the back. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and opened it with a gasp. You snapped your head up to meet Spencer, who was grinning at you sheepishly, his cheeks tinted bright pink.

“I-I knew you’ve been l-looking at that necklace for months, so….” He trailed off, breaking eye contact to stare at the floor. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “If you don’t like it I can take it back,” You stared at him in awe as tears threatened.

“Spence,” You said breathlessly, touching the necklace with a careful finger. “I love it, thank you so much.” Everyone in the room shared a look, fully knowing what was coming. You and Spencer were so busy with each other, that you didn’t notice when Rossi silently ushered the others out of the room and into the hallway to watch.

“Would you mind putting it on for me?” You asked quietly, handing Spencer the small box with a shaky hand.

“S-sure.” Spencer silently cursed his shaking hands as he fiddled with the clasp for a minute, before it clicked into place.

“Thanks.” You glanced up at the tall, lanky Doctor, when something a few feet above his head caught your eye. You gestured up at it, catching his attention.

“Mistletoe.” You said quietly. You got up on your tiptoes and placed a warm, soft kiss on his cheek, earning a blush from Spencer. A weird look came across his face when he suddenly grabbed your face, and crashed his lips into yours. You immediately melted into both Spencer and the kiss, forgetting where you were for just a moment as it was just you and him, alone together.

You pulled apart for air breathlessly, as you looked into the face of what used to be your best friend. That barrier had absolutely been shattered, but when Spencer broke out into a small, shy smile, you knew that it was meant to be that way.

“I…. I’ve been in love with you for the last 4 and a half years. It didn’t take me long at all to realize that you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but when I realized how smart, funny, and caring you were? I knew it was over for me. I didn’t say anything for the last few years because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” You whispered, placing a hand on his cheek. He leaned into your touch, and smiled a little more.

“Losing you.”

“You’ll never lose me. Not ever.” You shook your head defiantly, and placed another kiss on his lips. This one was much quicker, but filled with all the love and words that hadn’t been spoken until just now, and any words you could ever hope to say. Your friends cheered from beside you as you buried your head in Spencer’s chest, embarrassed. There were rounds and rounds of congratulations, told you so’s, and even a few bets had apparently been placed. You glared as they exchanged money and sheepish grins. You shook your head as you followed your friends into Rossi’s kitchen to continue getting your drink on.

**

It had been a few hours since Spencer’s confession, and to celebrate, you had accidentally had a few drinks too many. You started playing a drinking game with Derek and Prentiss that you had ceremoniously named “Beerio Cart”, and played several rounds since you were the champion. You grinned proudly, Spencer placing a plastic crown you all had found the last time you were at Rossi’s on top of your head, much to Derek’s ego’s chagrin. Following that, you had a few shots with Hotch and Garcia, followed up by the peppermint schnapps Penelope had prepared. Needless to say, the entire team was pretty hammered. IN the last few hours of the evening, Spencer had opted to drink more water and sober himself up slightly in order to save himself the pain the following day.

Rossi was on the same page as Spencer, not to mention the older Italian man’s tolerance was that of a bull. He could probably drink an entire bottle of wine and still be under the legal limit. He had retired to bed around 12:30am, fully aware that he was going to have to cook breakfast for his hungover “children” the following morning. You, Spencer, Prentiss, and Derek were the last ones awake, and now Derek had decided to retire to bed.

“Goodnight, and Merry Christmas.” Derek slurred, tripping up the stairs a little bit. It was the last round of Beerio Cart with Prentiss and Hotch that had done Derek in. Hotch had gone to bed shortly after that, Emily promising him that she would be up shortly after. That was 2 hours ago, and Emily was still downstairs with you and Spencer. She looked around, seeing that everyone except you two had gone to bed, and you were quickly crashing. She shrugged and stumbled up the stairs, managing to make it to her room with Hotch relatively easily. At least it was the first one at the top of the stairs.

Spencer turned his attention to you, and smiled warmly. You were starting to fall asleep standing up. He’d seen you do this a few times before, and usually was able to coax you into either laying your head on his lap if you were on the jet or on his shoulder if you were going to be in the SUVs.

“(Y/N), are you ready to go to bed?” You opened your eyes slowly and blinked, processing his question slowly. You nodded and rubbed your eyes, smearing your makeup all over the place. Spencer smiled a little and guided you to your room, sitting you on the bed.

“Close your eyes, love.” You complied quietly as Spencer gently wiped your makeup off. He tucked you into your bed and placed a kiss on your forehead, turning to leave. He felt you grab his wrist and turned around, caught totally off guard. You were sitting up, wearing your best puppy dog eyes face.

“Stay with me?” You said in such a soft voice, that made Spencer’s heart melt. He glanced at the door, then back at you, where you were still pleading with your eyes. He gave in, took off his shoes, and climbed in beside you. He wrapped an arm around you and you laid on his chest, quickly falling asleep to the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat.

***

You began stirring when the smell of pancakes wafted up the stairs and into your room. You scrunched your face at the harshness of the light peaking through the windows, and felt the onset headache.

“Fuck.” You whispered, rubbing your temples.

“Good morning.” Spencer said quietly beside you, sitting up to lean on his elbow. He donned his glasses and his scruff was already growing slightly.

“Good morning, Spence.” You said, your voice still raspy. You looked at the bedside table in search of your phone and saw two ibuprofen tablets and some water. You gulped them down gratefully and immediately felt relief.

You and Spencer made your way downstairs, greeting by the sight of your hungover friends, and Rossi, who was flipping pancakes and bacon at the stove.

“Oh look who decided to join us! The reigning Beerio Cart champion.” He smirked. You saw the crown sitting on the kitchen table and you grabbed it, placing it on top of your head.

“I stand by that wholeheartedly.” You said, folding your arms over your chest. Rossi shrugged.

“If you say so, kid.” You took a seat beside Hotch, who was rubbing circles into Emily’s back on the other side of him. She looked about as bad as you felt, and you instantly hoped you didn’t look like that, especially not in front of Spencer. As if he could hear your thoughts, he smiled at you, and you smiled back. You glanced down at his lips and flicked your eyes back up to meet his, when he closed the gap and pecked you on the lips. You grinned and a blush rose to your cheeks, as you munched on the pancakes Rossi set before you.

“Please tell me you two aren’t always going to be that sickeningly adorable.” Garcia said, wearing her sunglasses inside. You laughed a little, feeling a pain shoot through your brain. You groaned slightly, busying yourself with your pancakes. Spencer made you a bloody mary, spouted out facts about the origin of the drink, the useful properties of it, and anything else he’d known about it. You listened as you sipped, starting to feel just a little bit better. Whether that was with the help of the bloody mary or Spencer, you already knew the answer.

It was Spencer.

a/n: this is lowkey ass but here’s another request filled !!! if i don’t fill your request i am so sorry my inbox is VERY full and some of them get lost in the sauce!! 

word count: 2k

warnings: hints at smut but none actually, fluff as always

“Are you sure we can’t cancel?” Spencer whined, letting his hands come to rest on your hips. You had gone to the break room for a last minute pick-me-up before heading out to the bar with the team, not knowing that Spencer had followed you. It had been a long day with the completion of a case early in the afternoon, and the jet ride was only an hour and a half back to Quantico. You knew Spencer wasn’t fond of the bar scene on a good day, let alone after a long winded case.

“Spence, it’s okay, you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to.” You said leaning into him as you made your coffee. Spencer frowned and shook his head.

“No, I’ll go.” You handed Spencer the extra coffee you had made for him and he gulped it down gratefully, pausing to rub his eyes. You grinned and placed a kiss on his cheek before returning to your desk to grab a pair of new clothes. You went to the bathroom to change, and found Emily and JJ already in there, getting ready.

“Hey there!” Emily said, applying a fresh coat of lipstick.

“Did you convince Spence to join us?” JJ asked.

“Somehow yes. It took a lot of coaxing and a few promises of different things for when we get home tonight.” You giggled. Emily’s jaw dropped and JJ raised her eyebrows, sharing a look with Emily.

“Ooooh, dirty things?”

“I don’t kiss and tell!” You replied, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Emily and JJ shared your laughter and you went into the stall to get changed. You emerged in a red, off the shoulder top and a pair of red black skinny jeans with some calf-high heeled boots. You looked in the mirror and grinned at yourself. You looked like a badass. JJ and Emily had already finished and returned to the bullpen by the time you got changed, with Morgan and Spencer. Morgan whistled as you approached and Spencer stopped mid-conversation with JJ to drop his jaw. You knew that red was Spencer’s favorite color, so wearing it in this capacity was a huge thing for him. You grinned as he approached, resting his hands on your waist.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, my love.” He said quietly, placing a quick peck on your lips. Morgan whistled again, and you gave him the finger. He held his hands up in surrender and walked towards the doors, the rest of your team and you following him into the elevator, where Spencer grabbed your hand. Generally Spencer wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, however, he knew that it was your “love language” of sorts, so he would often compromise with small but sweet gestures; such as allowing his hands to rest on your hips or waist, holding your hand, or the occasional peck on the cheek or lips. It was small enough that Spencer was still comfortable, but it made you ridiculously happy.

You split up among yourselves in the parking lot, meeting up at the bar. Hotch promised Emily that he would take his own car there, to which Emily made a face. He gave a look with her that conveyed he had to do something he didn’t want to, such as having a conversation with the witch herself, Erin Strauss. Prentiss broke into a sympathetic smile as she climbed into the car and rocketed out of the parking lot. You plugged your phone into Spencer’s aux to try and get him a bit more perked up, so you put on one of your playlists that he hated the least; and actually had come to enjoy. He hummed along quietly, absentmindedly stroking his thumb across the top of your hand. You stared out the window and just appreciated the quiet time you got with your love. You arrived shortly later, and the drinking had commenced as soon as you and Spence walked in. Garcia shoved a Bay Breeze into your hand and forced you to chug it for being late.

You complied, shotgunned the drink, and slammed it back down on the bar with a cheer. Garcia seemed satisfied and you felt a hand on the small of your back; it was Spencer. He had a weird look on his face, following his gaze you quickly realized why- some guy at the bar was staring at your ass. His look quickly changed to a scowl as he pulled you in and placed a passionate kiss on your lips, to show the entire place you were entirely his. He pulled away and you quickly pecked his lips and smiled.

“I love you.” You said.

“I love you too.” Spence grinned and took a sip of his beer, grimacing at the taste. It was one of the alcoholic drinks he despised the least, but that was not to say that he was particularly fond of it. He couldn’t understand how Morgan was such a fan of the drink, but learned quickly not to ask questions. To each his own.

Spencer lost track of you rather quickly as you were a little ways away, at the other end of the bar, doing shots. Suddenly Spencer felt a presence behind him, and looked back to see Morgan.

“What’s up, Boy Wonder? You look a little lost.” Spencer frowned and shrugged.

“I just don’t like the party bar sort of scene, but I wanted to make (Y/N) happy.” Morgan chuckled and took a sip of his beer.

“Pretty boy, you are both very very sweet, and frankly quite whipped.” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his friend, who was being beckoned by Garcia. Spencer followed behind and when you saw him, you lit up.

“Hey you,” You said, reaching out your hand. Spencer took it gratefully, and pulled you into a hug. You melted into him.

“You guys wanna grab a seat at the bar, get some apps and a few more drinks?” Morgan offered, taking Garica’s hand. You all agreed and Prentiss walked away to call Hotch, to see if he was on his way and if he wanted anything for when he got there.

Your time at the bar was relatively short lived before moving to a table to accommodate the group better. Morgan sat back with his arm slung around Garcia’s shoulders, who was getting closer to tipsy with every sip of her margarita. You were talking about first kisses, to which you felt Spencer tense up slightly beside you, like he so often did during these sorts of conversations.

“I mean, I kissed my childhood best friend on the playground, but I doubt that really counts.” You paused.

“Not really. It counts for something, but it’s not your real like, first kiss. Spill it, girl.” Morgan said, smirking.

“Alright, alright. I was a sophomore in high school; my best friend had this family friend who had a son a year younger than us, who went to high school with us. He was really sweet, but also very VERY quiet. We were sort of friends, in a sense. Like, we knew each other and would text back and forth sometimes, mostly about a bio class we had together, but regardless. I really liked him and he never expressed any real interest in me, other than just like smiling at me and getting close to me, which didn’t mean much. Anyway, my best friend and I went to a New Year’s Eve party at his house and we were mostly hanging out in the basement or floating around with the various kids we went to high school with, just hanging out and other teenager stuff. Lo and behold, it’s the countdown to midnight and he appeared at my side. It became midnight and he grabbed my hand so I would look at him, he took my head in his hands and just kissed me.” You smiled at the memory of the sweet boy who only lasted in your life for about a month.

Derek laughed, Garcia and Prentiss awed, and Spencer didn’t really express anything. He just took a quiet sip of his beer.

“Alright, I said. It’s your turn, Prentiss!” Her eyes widened as she shook her head.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” She smirked, echoing your words from earlier today. You rolled your eyes as Hotch approached the table.

“Saved by the bell.” You muttered as Emily stood, giving Hotch a quick peck on the lips. He smiled and sat beside her.

“Another round?” You offered, standing up with your now empty glass. You crossed the room and took a seat at the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice you. You saw someone sit beside you out of your peripheral and realized it was Garcia, who was grinning wickedly.

“Hi, Sweets.” She said, sounding entirely too innocent. You narrowed your eyes.

“What did you do?” You asked.

“Nothing!”

“Pen.”

“I didn’t do anything. I have an idea,” She smirked.

“Oh God, what?”

“I saw this hilarious thing on Twitter last night where you text your significant other something SUUUPER nasty when you’re in a public setting together to see how they react.” You considered it for a minute, when the bartender approached. You listed off the group’s order and he disappeared.

“You’ve caught my attention, Pen. Have you tried it with Derek?” She raised her eyebrow.

“Have I tried it. Please, honey. I’ve done it 4 times tonight alone, have you noticed him even FLINCH?” You glanced back at Morgan, who was clapping Hotch on the back. Your eyes wandered to Spencer, who was finally smiling, and looked like he was actually having a good time. Perfect opportunity.

“You’re on, Garcia. $20 says Spencer blushes, shifts in his seat, and looks down at the table.”

“Alright, I say he smirks, rests his head on his hand, and gives you that look he does right before you leave the BAU.” A flush filled your face as you realized that your allegedly “discreet” look was apparently not so discreet.

The bartender returned with the drinks seconds later, and you only had about a minute to come up with something GOOD. With the help of Garcia, you got to work crafting the dirtiest text you could think of that would earn you the response you were looking for from your boyfriend.

Spencer felt his phone vibrating in his pocket which immediately alarmed him, considering the few people that would actually text him were all sitting with him. Besides you, who had gone to the bar, but you wouldn’t have just disappeared and only sent a text. He furrowed his eyebrows as he read the text he received from you, immediately reacting the way you thought he would.

He quickly locked his phone and put it face down on the table, running a hand through his hair in discomfort. He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks, among other places, as he began shifting in his seat to try and discreetly make himself a bit more comfortable. He stared at the table, hard, as if he was going to burn a hole through it with his eyes. Meanwhile, you were collecting $20 from Garcia across the room, in tears from laughing so hard. With Penelope’s help you escorted the drinks back to the table, earning a few cheers from your friends. You sat beside Spencer and placed a casual hand on his thigh, making him squirm even more.

“Why did you do that?!” He whispered in your ear.

You simply smirked in response and took a sip of your drink.

“Let’s just say i’m now $20 richer.” Spencer narrowed his eyes at you before looking around the table, his eyes landing very quickly on Garcia. She was being uncharacteristically quiet and still leaning on Derek, but avoiding eye contact with Spencer. He scowled and she ignored it, trying to suppress her laughter.

You placed a chaste kiss on Spencer’s cheek and he shifted again, but grabbed your hand anyway. For what it was worth, Spencer was definitely very good at putting up with your mischievous ways.

You unlocked your phone to send someone a text, when you saw your own to Spencer. You grinned in spite of yourself.

I can’t think about anything besides you throwing me on the bar and ravaging me in every way you please. You know, kinda like last night…. I’ve never heard you say my name so loud.

I Just Wanna Be Close to You

request: 
blurb request! spencer reid x reader y/n getting super sad and mumbling thru tears “ just wanna be close to you”

a/n: okay i sat at my computer for a solid 10 minutes trying to figure out where and how i could run with this story and i think i figured out the perfect thing heheheeee

word count: 2.6k

warnings: slight angst (i guess? idek) and fluff! and jello. personally i hate jello

“Are you sure?” You overheard Morgan saying as you inspected the surrounding area, Spencer doing the same. “Alright, I’ll tell (Y/N) and Reid. Thanks.” He hung up the phone and turned to you.

“The lab was clean.” He said, frowning. “Where’s Reid?” You looked over your shoulder and came up empty, looking around a little more frantically.

“Spencer?” You called. No response.

“Reid!” Morgan called a little louder. Still no response.

You started running and screaming Spencer’s name, when you looked in the direction of the open front door. You ran up and started into the lab when Spencer ran out of nowhere and shoved you back, closing the door between you.

“Spencer what the hell are you doing?!” You asked, looking up at him.

“You have to get out of here now.” He said, locking the door.

“Spence i’m not-”

“Now, (Y/N)! The anthrax lab is in here! It’s too late for me, you have to leave! I’m so sorry.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you approached Morgan, who heard the entire conversation.

Hotch and the officers from downtown appeared shortly, you were sitting outside beside Morgan. You both stood as Hotch approached, already having been briefed by Morgan.

“It’s not your fault, (Y/L/N).” Hotch said.

“I should have gone in with him, at least then he wouldn’t be alone.” You muttered, wiping away a spare tear.

“Reid, we’re gonna get you out of there as quickly as possible, and get you to a hospital.” Hotch said into the phone. He put it on speaker in time for you to hear Spencer’s response.

“No.”

“NO?” You called.

“I’m already infected, that doesn’t mean I can’t help from in here. This guy must have created an antidote in the case of accidental self infection.” He said. Hotch remained quiet.

“Hotch, you gotta say something to him!” Morgan was angry with himself as well for not going in with Spencer. The idea of the kid dying ripped a hole in his chest.

“He’s right, Morgan.” Morgan shook his head and threw his hands up, walking away. You sat there, the sick feeling in your stomach becoming more and more potent. You and Spencer had only been dating for 5 months before this, the idea of already losing him was terrifying and entirely too real to you. You’d had too many close calls in your friendship alone, let alone during your short-lived relationship. Army men began setting up tents outside of the house. Reid was listing off everything that he could see in the room to get a better idea of who the new unsub was, and what his next move was since murdering Nichols. You and Morgan elected to stay with Reid while Hotch went to the BAU.

“Hey Garcia.”

“Hey, Reid.”

“No nicknames today, huh?”

“Not when you’re in there and we’re all out here. What can I do to help?” He could hear worry laced in her voice. He swallowed hard.

“I need to record, um, a couple of messages.” Spencer tried to will away the tears he felt coming.

“Sure thing, just give me one second.”

“You ready?”

“Go, Reid.”

“Hi, mom. This is Spencer, just calling to say that I love you and am so happy to be your son. You’re a great mom. Get it, Garcia?”

“Yep,” She sniffled slightly, hoping Reid didn’t hear her. He did.

“One more message, this one is for (Y/N). Hi there, love. Um, this is Spencer. I guess you figured that out when I called you love, at the beginning of this message.” He chuckled a little, and wiped away a tear that was falling. “Um, I don’t know how else to say it, but I love you, so much. Ever since your first week at the BAU, I’ve been in love with you. I’m so glad you allow me to love you every single day, and show you just how special you are to me. I’ll see you soon, I love you.” Garcia was now silently crying on the other end, and could barely choke out that she got both of his messages taken care of. He thanked her as the team in hazmat suits approached.

“I gotta go, thanks again Garcia.” He hung up and faced the doctor.

“Are you in any pain, Dr. Reid?” She asked. He swallowed and refused treatment, promising that he felt fine. He was actually beginning to sweat and his thoughts were clouding slightly, but he pushed through.

“I believe the antidote is in here somewhere, as a just in case precaution. He was a military scientist, so it won’t be out in the open.” Reid felt a cough rising in his throat, and panic setting in. He swallowed hard, again, and answered the incoming call he had been anticipating.

“Hey, Spence.” Your voice was thick. “I’m here with Morgan. How are you doing in there?”

“I’ve been better.” He laughed a little, leading to a small coughing fit. You felt your stomach knot harder.

“Stay with me, Spence. What can you tell us about the man Nichols was working with?” You could hear the shuffling of papers on Spencer’s end.

“I see a thesis with writing in the margins, like a professor would do for a student.” He began reading from the paper, almost verbatim to something Nichols had said earlier.

“I’ll call Garcia.” Derek walked away to do just that, and Spencer was coughing again. You sniffled.

“Hey, I’m okay, love. I’m gonna be fine!” Spencer tried, but failed, to sound even remotely convincing. How could he when he just gave Garcia his goodbye messages?

“We’re gonna catch this sonofabitch and get you out of there, I swear, Spence.” Tears were flowing freely now.

“Yeah, we are.”

“Here’s Morgan, Garcia found the unsub.” Spencer breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Get out of there, Pretty Boy.” Morgan said, clapping his phone shut. Spencer smiled and hung up his own phone, when the doctor approached.

“You were right, Reid. It wasn’t somewhere we would think to look.” She held up Nichols’s inhaler.

You watched as the men in the hazmat suits escorted Reid out of the house and into the tent, and started hosing him down.

“Spence.” You breathed, watching him react to the seemingly cold water and trying to approach him. He held out his hand.

“Go help Hotch.” He said, his voice rough from coughing.

“No, I’m staying here with you.” You said, crossing your arms. He knew arguing with you was futile, and that he needed to save his energy. “Morgan went with Hotch.” You could tell what he was thinking.

You tried to get closer, not caring about the consequences. He stopped you again, and met your eyes, brimming with fresh tears.

“I just want to be close to you.” Your tears spilled over and fell down your cheeks, as you suddenly felt Spencer’s hand delicately lift your head to meet his eyes. “I really thought we were going to lose you. I’ve never been so afraid.”

“They’re about to strip me naked, and scrub me down. Do you really wanna see that?” You tried to suppress a laugh. Spencer smiled a little.

“I’ll meet you outside. I’m riding with you in the ambulance.” Spencer seemed satisfied with the compromise and you exited the tent, pacing just outside as you could hear him coughing. You frowned and put your head in your hands, still worried about whether or not there was enough time to save him.

The doctor’s wheeled him out on a gurney a few minutes later, coughing his head off. You climbed in after him and grabbed his hand as he continued coughing, closing his eyes.

“How are you, Dr. Reid?” Doctor Kimura asked, hovering a stethoscope above Spencer’s chest.

“I’ve been better, honestly. But besides the coughing, I feel okay.” You frowned and rubbed your thumb across the top of his hand.

You arrived at the hospital shortly after and took a break to call the team, and alert them that Reid’s vitals were stabilizing.

“Hey Morgan, it’s (Y/N). Reid and I are at the hospital, I think he’s gonna be okay. He’s asleep now, but I think he’s gonna be okay. Call me when you get this, bye.” You clapped your phone shut and sat back, reading the book Reid had given you a couple of months ago that you often read on the jet rides home. It was very long, but very interesting, and since it was one of Spencer’s favorites that was actually in english, you promised him you would read it and tell him what you thought.

“Hey, Pretty Girl, we caught him.” Morgan said. You could hear the grin in his voice.

“Of course you guys did. Did you get to tackle him or did you apprehend him the less fun way?” You giggled.

“For your information, missy, I don’t get a kick out of tackling psychopaths.” He replied.

“I call bullshit.”

“Oh whatever. How’s our boy?”

“Still sleeping, but the anthrax is making its way out thanks to Spence finding the cure in the inhaler. Don’t tell him I said this, it might go to his head. He’s kind of a genius.” You pretended to whisper. Morgan chuckled on the other line and sighed.

“Something like that. Want me to meet you at the hospital?”

“Sure. There’s a ton of jello here, i’ve been munching on it as I wait for Spence to wake up.” You said, taking another bite.

“Whatever happened to you being so worried you couldn’t eat, like, 2 hours ago?” Morgan asked.

“Doctor Kimura said he was gonna be fine, he just needed time to rest. The worry left and the jello appeared. I don’t make the rules.” You said simply.

“Whatever, kiddo. See you in 20.” Morgan hung up before you could say anything else, and you returned to your book and your jello. Spencer stirred slightly, your heart leaping into your throat, only to turn slightly and let out a small snore. You giggled a little, and kept reading.

You made it about 4 chapters deep when Morgan finally showed, magazine in hand.

“Anything yet?” He asked, pulling up a chair beside you. You shook your head and opened another pack of jello, handing Morgan a green one.

“Ew, I hate the green. Give me a red,” He put the green back and opened the red, digging in as he flipped carelessly through his magazine. A raspy voice caught your attention.

“Is that jello?” You snapped your head up and were met by Spencer’s hazel eyes, glancing back and forth from the jello in your hand to your face.

“You’re awake!” You threw your book into Morgan’s lap and stood to go grab Dr. Kimura.

“Welcome back, Pretty Boy. Thought we lost you for a minute.” Spencer smiled weakly.

“I’m just glad you caught him, and that I found the antidote in the lab.” He rasped, eyeing up your jello.

“How are you feeling, Doctor?” Dr. Kimura asked from the doorway, smiling. She was extremely happy to see the young Doctor made a full recovery, and was going to be back to normal in a matter of days.

You stepped out from behind Dr. Kimura with an armful of jello, and a spoon. Spencer grinned like a child and took the orange one gratefully, shoving a huge spoonful into his mouth.

“Thank you.” He tried to sit up and winced slightly, falling back on his pillows.

“You gotta take it easy for a few days, Kid.” Morgan said, not looking up. Spencer sighed but closed his eyes as you pet his hair. A calm smile crossed his features and you smiled, so happy to have met someone as amazing as Doctor Spencer Reid, FBI agent.

Down the road……

The anthrax incident had been anything but forgotten, though moved past. Reid made a full recovery as expected, and was back to work in a matter of days, something that made you extremely happy. You had stopped by Starbucks like you did every morning, Spencer waiting for you in the car. Garcia had texted you that morning that she was running late and asked you to pick up her usual, and she decided to order yours and Spencer’s usuals as well. You grabbed the drinks and went out to the car, making your way through the morning D.C traffic with your love and plenty of caffeine.

You went straight to Penelope’s lair to deliver her coffee, when you heard Spencer’s voice on the other side. Had he gone a different way and beaten you there?

“Hi there, love. Um, this is Spencer. I guess you figured that out when I called you love, at the beginning of this message.” He chuckled a little, and wiped away a tear that was falling. “Um, I don’t know how else to say it, but I love you, so much. Ever since your first week at the BAU, I’ve been in love with you. I’m so glad you allow me to love you every single day, and show you just how special you are to me. I’ll see you soon, I love you” Your eyes widened. It sounded like he was rehearsing something. Was he proposing already? Or working out how to say “I love you”? Neither one of you had said it yet. You were prepared to, but wanted the moment to be just right. You also weren’t sure where Spence stood on the matter. You knew Spencer was absolutely the one, and you would marry him in a heartbeat, but wasn’t it a little bit early? You were barely living together by this point, marriage seemed a little bit down the road. You decided to enter, cautious.

“Hey, Pen, here’s your coffee.” You glanced around the small room, but there was no sign of Spencer anywhere. “Who were you talking to? It sounded like Spencer.” You eyed Penelope, who choked a little bit on her coffee. Her eyes widened.

“Uh, I was watching a Youtube video.” She said quickly, avoiding eye contact. You sat on the edge of her desk and looked down at her. She still refused to make eye contact, instead fiddling with a plastic ring adorning her middle finger.

“Pen, it sounded just like Spencer.” You pressed.

“Oh, fine! He didn’t want me to show you this but here it is.” Penelope replayed the message you had heard moments before, this time it was unmistakable. It was Spencer.

“When did he record this?” You asked, feeling as if you were out of breath.

“During the anthrax case, in case he didn’t get to say goodbye.” Penelope mumbled, looking guilty.

“Why didn’t you show me sooner? That… that was so sweet.”

“He didn’t want me to, he said it was unnecessary since he survived.” You set your mouth in a line and went to hunt down Spencer. You found him perched on Morgan’s desk, boring him about some Shakespeare play you had seen together over the weekend. You tucked on his sleeve and pulled him aside, interrupting him.

“Hello to you too. What’s up?” He seemed confused since you looked so angry, but weren’t using what he dubbed “your angry voice”.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the message you told Garcia to give me in case something happened to you during the anthrax case?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest. His eyes widened.

“I-I didn’t want to make you upset, uh,” He stammered, tucking his hair behind his ears.

“I love you too, Spence.” You whispered. He visibly relaxed. He smiled a little and pulled you into a tight hug.

“I meant every word I said, by the way.” He whispered in your ear. You closed your eyes and nudged your head deeper into his shoulder.

“Good.” You stayed like that for a few minutes until Morgan walked by and whistled, causing both of you to turn bright red and go back to your desks.

i think this is actually the longest fic i’ve written to date, goddamn. as always, i really really ran with this one. **LOOSELY BASED OFF OF SEASON 4 EPISODE 9 “52 Pickup”.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: none, some angst and some fluff.

“So you think he’s taking classes on how to talk to women?” Prentiss asked, incredulous. You tried to surprise your giggles, causing the others to look at you.

“Maybe Reid should try that,” Spencer’s face reddened as he busied himself with the file, pretending to read through it. You could tell he was faking because it never took him that long to study a file.

“I’m kidding, Spence.” You said a short time later, suddenly feeling guilty. Spencer looked up at you and nodded, tight lipped. He returned to the book he was reading. You shook your head and headed to the back of the jet to make yourself a coffee and take a break for a little while. Your peace, however, was short lived. Morgan strolled back and started making himself a cup of coffee while you waited for yours to finish brewing. He looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“What’s on your mind, Sweet Thing?” He asked.

“I feel really bad about what I said to Spencer.” You said quietly, taking a long sip of your coffee. Derek chuckled.

“I know why you said it, can’t say I blame you entirely.” You narrowed your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh nothing, nothing at all.”

“Morgan.” Your tone raised slightly.

“Alright fine, you can put the angry eyes away. All I meant was that I can see the way you look at him, and you’re frustrated that he hasn’t made any sort of moves.” He said, leaning against the counter and raising his eyebrows again. “Am I wrong?”

Your answer was you walking away. He was completely on track, but you couldn’t bear to say the words out loud just yet. There wasn’t much hope on your end in terms of Spencer feeling the same way about you that you do him, so what was the point of hoping? It just lead to high expectations and low outcomes. You forced yourself to concentrate on the case file for the rest of the ride, briefly glancing at Spencer here and there; you made eye contact 3 times.

Although the jet ride was painfully quiet, the arrival on the scene was nowhere near as heavy. Well, in a sense. You were staring a dead woman in the face who looked just a little bit too much like you for your taste, and you could tell Prentiss was having similar thoughts.

“I guess we have to go pay this “Viper” guy a visit.” Spencer said behind you, quietly. You turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised. It was the first thing he’d said to you since the jet.

“Okay, I’ll grab the keys from Hotch.” You turned on your heel and headed in Hotch’s direction as Morgan approached Reid.

“I see the way you look at her, you know.” Morgan said from behind him, frightening Reid slightly. He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, and made a confused face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said quietly, walking to the car you hopped in.

“Those two are made for each other, goddamn.” Morgan said to no one in particular. Meanwhile, your ride to Viper’s class was a little too quiet for your liking. You broke the silence and turned the radio down slightly.

“I’m sorry, Spencer.” He looked at you suddenly, as if lost in his own thoughts.

“For what?” He frowned.

“For what I said on the jet, that was unfair and I’m sorry.” Spencer was quiet for a minute, contemplating.

“I really am, Spence.”

“No no I know, I accept your apology. I was just thinking, what if that was the reason the unsub had taken the class in the first place?” You paused, waiting for him to continue. He had something.

“Meaning that if a woman in his life, whether it was a girlfriend, wife, or maybe a female in a club, made him feel small and that he was unable to pick up women. Maybe he’s impotent and he’s out to prove a point.” You grinned and touched Spencer’s arm lightly, retracting when you remembered his disdain for being touched. His facial expression faltered, but was replaced quickly when he called Hotch.

“You are such a genius, Boy Wonder.” He smiled and looked at his hands in his lap, feeling warmth spread through his body.

The drive through downtown Atlanta was an easy one, you having spent the majority of your early to late teens and 20s driving all through downtown D.C. You arrived at the community center rather quickly, and found Viper in a seminar room on the first floor.

“This is the jungle, my friends, and you are the predators.” He said to his class, earning a round of applause.

As you and Spencer approached, he looked you up and down hungrily, licking his lips.

“Well hello there, gorgeous. Fortunately for you my class just let out, and I happen to have an hour until my ne-”

“My name is Doctor Spencer Reid and I’m with the FBI Behavioural Analysis Unit, and this is Agent (Y/L/N).” Viper tore his prying eyes away from you for a moment to look Spencer up and down, clearly unimpressed.

“Sure, sure. What can I do for you, Agents?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“This is regarding your, uh, class. Have you seen any sort of suspicious people or any of your students acting out of the ordinary?” Reid said, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“All my students are out of the ordinary, otherwise they wouldn’t need me to guide them.” He returned his attention to you, with a smirk.

“I, however, am the master. Picking up women is my profession and my dedication.” You rolled your eyes.

“We need to see a list of your students.” You said, monotone.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sweetheart.”

“We will come back with a warrant.” You glared. Men like Viper made you sick.

“Alright, fine, Miss. Agent. You’ll get the roster. You can have anything else you want, you just have to ask nicely.” Viper leaned in closer and Spencer moved forward, almost shielding you.

“Oh, Dr. Reid, moving to protect the lady, hmm? How often do you have to rely on that title of yours to help you bring women home?” He almost laughed.

“Frankly, “Viper”, the way you talk to women is completely demeaning and utterly disgusting. We will come back with a warrant and will be investigating your supposed alibis, because right now you are a prime suspect in a murder investigation.” Spencer got in Viper’s face, his face as cold as stone. You’d never seen him get his back up in this way, usually it was Morgan.

“I have receipts to back up my whereabouts last night, for your information.”

“If you have any questions, call the Atlanta police department.” You said quietly, handing him a card with the number written out on the back. He looked you up and down one more time and replaced the ridiculous furry hat back on his head.

You followed Spencer out the door and back to the car, almost unable to keep up with his pace.

“Spence, what’s up?” He looked out the window, not saying anything. You could sense his anger.

“What’s wrong?” You pressed.

“I don’t like the way Viper was looking at you or talking to you.” He spat. “He was looking at you the way a predator looks at literal prey; you are so much more than that.”

Your face softened, and you rested a hand on his shoulder.

“I appreciate you standing up for me, that was very sweet.” You whispered, giving him a small smile. His heart fluttered, and he mustered up a small smile in return.

“Anytime, (Y/N/N).” He looked back out the window and subconsciously unclenched his fists at your sides, making you smile a little more.

Your ride back to the police station was very quiet, Spencer was still angry at Viper’s disgusting nature, and was completely against Morgan and Hotch’s idea to send you into a club as bait.

“This is ridiculous!” He said, crossing his arms.

“Spence, it’s fine. If it’s what I have to do, then it’s what I have to do.” You said, beginning to get frustrated. You appreciated more than anything how much Spencer cared, it made your heart do backflips, but you could take care of yourself. You’d been an FBI agent for 4 and a half years, and trained with Morgan regularly. Worst case scenario, you could handle yourself.

“It’s not fine, (Y/N). You were already subjected to Viper once today, now you have to go act as the prey for the unsub? What if he kidnaps you?”

“Reid, we’re going to be stationed at the bar and on the floor handing out fliers. Nothing is going to happen.” Spencer walked out of the room, Prentiss following close behind.

You crossed your arms and huffed. Hotch looked at you, and then looked away. You knew what you had to do, and you were determined to save some lives tonight, whether Spencer liked it or not.

“Are you ladies almost ready?” Hotch said on the other side of the door.

“Yeah, Hotch, we’ll be out in 5 minutes.” Emily called back. You could hear Hotch’s retreating footsteps, and resumed your conversation.

“Did he really say that?” Emily asked, securing an earring.

“Yep. Verbatim.”

“Wow, I can’t believe Reid had the guts to stand up to Viper like that, or that Viper even had the audacity to say something like that!”

“When you’re a misogynistic narcissist, anything is possible.”

Emily laughed in response as you looked at yourself in the full body mirror, smiling a little bit. As much as you hated to admit it, you did look good. You were in a tight red dress with a plunging neckline, gold jewelry, and red heels. You adorned a smokey eye look and teased your hair, completing the outfit. If nothing else, you were definitely ready for the club. Prentiss’s outfit was similar, except black with silver accessories. You opened the door to find your knights awaiting, and a few dropped jaws.

“Phew, you ladies clean up nice. You sure you’re alright with this?” Morgan said, directing the question at you.

“Yeah. Where’s Reid?” You asked, Spencer nowhere in sight. Morgan frowned and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“He’s waiting in the car.” Hotch said, looking at Morgan. Morgan shrugged his shoulders as you followed them to the car you were set to take, separately from the rest of the team so it looked like you were going in on your own.

“Spencer’s jaw would drop harder than Morgan’s if he saw you back there,” Emily said, a knowing look crossing her features. You snorted a little.

“Yeah right, he wouldn’t notice anything was different.” Months ago on a ladies night with Emily, JJ, and Penelope, you’d confessed your crush on Spencer to them after a few glasses of wine too many. Since then, they’d done everything they could to try and make sure you two would get together, but to no avail. Either Spencer was pretty good at hiding his true feelings, or he just did not feel the same way.

You were hoping for option 1.

You arrived at the club a lot sooner than you would’ve liked, and entered beside Prentiss.

“Just pretend like it’s another ladies night.” She said. You nodded and headed straight for the bar while she went to find a hightop to stand at.

“Two margaritas, please.” You told the bartender, who flashed a white smile. You smiled back softly and looked at the sea of people crowding the dance floor, looking for any sort of activity that caught your eye. On the other side of the bar, something did catch your eye. Spencer. He was staring at you, and when he noticed you looking back, he reverted his attention to Morgan. You frowned, and thanked the bartender.

“Spence was staring at me.” You said as you placed your drinks on the table. Prentiss raised her eyebrows and nodded at Morgan, who nodded back. He and Spencer moved slightly away from the bar to pass out fliers and ask if anyone had seen the man from the sketch.

You mindlessly sipped your marg when a familiar scent hit your nose, and rose your eyes to meet Viper’s.

“Oh no.” You said, giving Prentiss a look.

“Hello again, fancy meeting you here. Decide to take me up on my offer to see me on my turf?” He asked.

“No.” You said.

“Well, maybe I can pique your friend’s interest here. How are you, Sweetheart?” Prentiss glared.

“Here to prey on some younger women?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. Viper frowned, but recovered quickly.

“If that means you, then yes ma’am. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked, trying to take her hand. She snapped her hand back to her body, and looked annoyed.

“If you aren’t here to help us, walk away.” She said, clenching her teeth. Viper shrugged and headed back in the direction of the bar, probably to find some other poor soul.

“He is not real.”

“I wish that were true.” You both took a long drag from your drinks, and found your eyes wandering towards the tall, curly haired genius. It was hard to find him at first, until you picked him out as the most uncomfortable man in the room. Morgan was beside him, also without any fliers, pointing to various women in the room. Spencer was nodding, as if taking mental notes about whatever Morgan was saying.

“Women like it when you can make them laugh. I know your sense of humor is a bit questionable, but if you can get her laughing, you’re definitely on your way there.” Spencer nodded, finding his gaze locked on you. You looked absolutely stunning in your red dress, barely coming above your knees. Your makeup accentuated your gorgeous eyes and your hair framed your face, and Spencer was breathless.

“Hey, stay with me, Pretty Boy. These tips can work on her too, I promise.” He nodded in your direction with a knowing smirk. Spencer’s cheeks flushed and he turned his attention to the bartender, who was talking to a couple of younger girls. He approached her and gave her a shy smile and a wave, pulling a spare flier from his pocket.

“Have you seen this guy walking around tonight?” He asked. The bartender shook her head and moved on to the man next to her, filling a drink order as she spoke.

“He looks familiar, but so do all the men I come across around here. He’s a common character.” She nodded to the paper in Spencer’s hand. She clearly wasn’t interested, too busy to be.

“Alright, then can I ask you something?” He said, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. She placed the drink down in front of the man next to him, turning her attention back to Spencer.

“Shoot.” She looked down the bar and saw that the other bartender had taken a few guests at a time, so she had a free minute.

Now he was across the room, talking to the female bartender. He was performing a magic trick for her, causing your blood to boil. She was giggling and touching his arm, and you could see the blush on his cheeks from across the room.

You grabbed your drink and were ready to march over there, when Prentiss caught your arm.

“I think I know who the unsub is,” You looked at her, thoughts of Spencer long forgotten.

“I was thinking about what you were saying about Viper’s speech today- the thing about squashing the queen bee.” Sparks collided in your brain as your eyes widened, connecting the dots.

“I’ll grab Spencer and Morgan, tell Hotch and let’s get out of here.” You chugged the rest of the margarita and felt it immediately, marching over to Spencer and Morgan much more confidently than you should have.

“We know who the unsub is,” You said, primarily to Morgan.

“Who?” Spencer asked, abandoning the magic trick and the bartender. She walked away without a second glance. Your glare hardened as you turned on your heel, walking out of the bar.

Morgan and Reid looked at each other before following you outside, watching as you jumped in the car with Prentiss and Hotch. Rossi pulled up in a car beside them, and they hopped in too. Spencer and Morgan put their vests on in the car and Spencer allowed his mind to wander. You’d looked so angry back there. Did he say something? He was only angry on your behalf earlier, he didn’t think you would be upset with him for something so trivial. He frowned as you all pulled up outside of the house.

You hopped out after Prentiss, still in your dress, but changed into black high top converse. You looked somehow even better with the dress and the converse, your hair still wild and free. Spencer gulped as he unholstered his gun, following behind Morgan. You were the first to enter the house, clearing almost half of the downstairs by the time Morgan and Reid caught up. You started up the stairs when you’d heard a crash from behind a door.

“He’s in there!” You yelled, jumping down the stairs to kick down the basement door. “FBI you’re under arrest!” You screamed down the stairs, making your way down with Morgan hot on your heels.

“Put your weapon down.” Morgan said, aiming right for his head. The unsub simply laughed.

“Or what, you’ll shoot me, pretty girl? I don’t think so.” The unsub inched closer, and you trained your gun on his head.

“One more step and you die. I don’t really think you want that, though.” You remained firm, and the unsub lost his nerve. The knife clattered as it hit the ground, the victim crying as she wriggled in her restraints behind him.

Morgan cuffed him and forced him upstairs, and as Reid approached you, you followed behind them. Reid frowned once more and followed Prentiss and Rossi back upstairs. Luckily, the unsub had slipped up and led the trail right to his home and the latest victim, who you were able to save. No harm had come to her when you had gotten there, although the disemboweling seemed like it was about to begin. It was safe to say she was scarred psychologically.

You stood a bit apart, arms crossed over your chest. You didn’t even hear Spencer approach.

“I don’t think I got the chance to tell you this, neither at the club or at the police station. You look beautiful,” Spencer’s brown eyes glistened, boring into yours.

“Thanks.” You said.

“I can tell by your tone and body language that you’re upset with me, but I still haven’t quite worked out why.” He pressed, standing in front of you, hands in his pockets.

“You don’t think I can handle myself.” You said, raising your eyes to meet his. He scrunched his face in confusion.

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to; it was the way you were so angry at the police station earlier today. It didn’t seem like you thought I could do it or handle it.” You glared. Your expression softened when Spencer frowned.

“I didn’t mean to make you think that, I was just worried about you. I don’t know what I would do with myself if anything happened to you,” Spence said quietly, taking your hand in his. All your anger dissipated the moment he took your hand.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You were quiet for a minute, contemplating bringing up what you saw between Spencer and the bartender. You decided against it, and opted to give him a hug.

“I appreciate how much you care, Spence.” You said into his shoulder. He gratefully returned the hug, elated that you were no longer angry with him. You both pulled away and rejoined your team, heading for the jet. You both slept the entire plane ride, since you were able to change into a pair of leggings and a hoodie. Spencer’s hoodie.

Spencer walked you to your car as he did after most cases, just so he could be secure in knowing you were safe for another night. You had been debating the entire walk whether or not it was a good idea to bring up the bartender, and you eventually decided to ask. You had to know whether or not to move on.

“Spence,” You broke the silence as you approached your car. He turned his attention to you, his eyes tired. “Whatever happened with the bartender from the club?” You asked, absentmindedly picking at your nails. He picked up on it right away, and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He took your hand to stop your nail picking. You frowned. He rubbed his thumb across your knuckles to prompt you to continue.

“You were flirting with her and I wasn’t sure how it went.” You hadn’t thought past asking the question, therefore you didn’t have a very good reason why you were asking. Spencer looked unconvinced, but decided to bite anyway.

“Nothing happened, I didn’t get her number or anything. She wasn’t really my type.” He said, nodding. You nodded in return and smiled. He smiled, but furrowed his eyebrows further. “Why?” He smirked a little.

“I was just curious.”

“Uh huh. What’s the actual reason?”

“I WAS curious!”

“With ulterior motives, I’m sure.”

You shifted your weight between your feet, suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze. He raised his eyebrows and closed the already shrinking gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He pulled away and raised his eyebrows as if to ask, “Is that why?”. You reached up and pulled his face back down to yours in another soft, warm kiss.

“Yeah. I was a little bit jealous.” You said, slightly breathless. Spencer smiled softly, and intertwined your fingers.

“Why were you jealous?” You sighed, and smiled up at him.

“Because I like you, dummy.” His eyebrows shot up as if you told him the secret to curing cancer, and slowly processed a response.

“I-I like you too.” You pressed a final kiss to his warm lips and grinned into it, letting your forehead come to rest against yours.

“I should have known the way you were drooling over me in that dress.” You whispered. He looked away and swallowed, running a hand through his hair.

“Goodnight, Spence.” You rolled your eyes as you threw your go bag in your back seat. He was grinning like a doofus as he made his way to his car, receiving a text from you as soon as he got in.

“You’re such a little dork, Reid. You’re lucky you’re adorable.” The warm feeling washed over Spencer once again as he held his phone to his chest, smiling like an idiot his entire drive home.

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 :)

masterlist

part 1 part 2

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.

-

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

to be true, to not be true taglist: @sassymoon@jackiehollanderr@gubleryum​@cielo1984@allexthakatt​@escapingrealities​

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: 3,969                                                                                     reading time: 14 mins

warnings:angst, cheating allegations, mental illness

a/n:PLEASEREAD!!!! the epilogue/finale for this will be uploaded on @goldentournesol later today! 

masterlist

part 1

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…”

final part

-

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

to be true, to not be true taglist: @sassymoon@jackiehollanderr@gubleryum​@cielo1984@allexthakatt​@escapingrealities​

THAT’S RIGHT OUT TOMORROW!!!! I and @goldentournesol are incredibly excited to have worked on this project, see ya’ll soon 

Pressure

Summary: It’s your birthday and Spencer has a special gift for you. Despite multiple attempts, he struggles to find the perfect time to present it to you.

A/N: Slight warning for very slight mentions of blood - just a smallish cut. Let me know what you think!

Part Two

Masterlist|Requests

Your birthday was often a strange event, as were those of the entire BAU you supposed. Last year you and the team had been chasing an unsub with a penchant for collecting fingernails around Seattle and the year before had been spent liaising with the LAPD to catch a serial arsonist. It was safe to say, that this year your expectations were a little low; you were hoping for a fun drink or two with your colleagues but little else other than a full night’s sleep.

It was surprising, then, and really quite nice that you were not miles from home; for once, there had been no invitations from far away states and you and the team were merely completing paperwork. It wasn’t the most exciting thing you could be doing for your birthday, that was for sure, but you were too used to the wrong kind of excitement to care.

The clack of wheels drew your attention from the wordy document you were currently poring over. “Hey,” you greeted, a warm smile gracing your lips as you looked at Spencer. “You come to help out?” You asked, lifting your pile of yet unfinished paperwork into his eye-line.

Almost shyly, his eyes averted from yours - darting first to his wringing hands before landing on the closed door of Hotch’s office. “I’m kidding,” you gave him, cutting him off before he could awkwardly tell you that it was against some kind of rule.

Relieved he nodded with a chuckle. Spencer, in general, seemed a nervous individual. Although you always considered skittish a better word for him. His social confidence had more than improved over the years, but there were plenty of things - just like anyone else, you supposed - that still melted him back into nervousness. His show of nervousness now, therefore, was nothing particularly new. Why he was so nervous in this very moment, however, you couldn’t quite pin down.

Eyes darting down to his hands, gripping a neat parcel in his lap, you raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Own eyes jumping down to it, he stammered over a response but never quite got the words out. Garcia interrupted him before he could muster a full sentence, announcing her sudden presence with a stream of glitter and confetti pooled upon your desk. “Oh wow,” you tried to enthusiastically exclaim as she also tossed some confetti in a way that ensured it landed in your hair.

“Happy birthday!” She all but squealed as you shook your hair out.

A wry smile overtaking you, appreciating the thoughtfulness if not the gesture itself, you nodded up at her. “Er Thanks, Garcia.”

You and Spencer both leaned back as a large bouquet of flowers was heavily placed on your desk. The smell, while pleasant, was a little overwhelming. As Spencer tried to subtly cough beside you, you grinned at the flowers. There was no question that Garcia had chosen them herself; the petals were a wonderfully soft pink but the most obvious clue was the somewhat garish addition of roses that had been sprayed with gold glitter.

Moving the large vase to the corner of your desk, the flowers still overtaking the majority of the space, you thanked her. “They’re really… something.”

She beamed, not catching the amused glance you shared with Spencer, and waved a hand. “Oh it’s nothing,” leaning in to sniff one of the pink flowers, she continued. “I know you’re not a big birthday kinda person but you absolutely cannot expect me to ignore such a big day!”

Placating her enthusiasm, you stood to make a show of smelling the pungent floral fragrance. “They’re lovely, really, thank you.”

She somehow beamed a little brighter and, gripping your hand and tottering in her heels slightly with excitement, she pulled you alongside her. “There’s more!”

Gracelessly falling after her, you turned your head to shoot a wide eyed grin to Spencer who returned the gesture with a warm gaze of his own.

———————————————————————

Fingers tapping against the carefully wrapped parcel in his lap, Spencer watched you go. A little wave of disappointment crested over him but was overshadowed by what he knew would be short-lived relief. There was both an excitement and fear tied with the gift he was hoping to give you; his ever busy mind harassing him with constant questions of whether he had interpreted your behaviour objectively enough, of whether he was about to ruin your friendship forever, and more importantly whether you would understand the meaning of the gift regardless.

Somehow, he had managed to cut through that whitenoise of uncertainty and follow Morgan’s advice; “they’re being awfully patient with you but I’m telling you now, thats not gonna last forever. You better make a move sometime this century.”

The gift would be his quiet, subdued confession; one more than overdue but still nerve wracking. He loved you and in his own, perhaps cowardly, way he would tell you with this gift. That is, if he were able to ever actually give it to you.

Watching you go had therefore been disappointing but the feeling had been immediately salved as you looked back at him. The look felt like a secret, a glance shared between the two of you like whispered gossip; your thoughts conveyed perfectly only to him with such a simple gesture.

With markedly less enthusiasm, he wheeled his chair back to his own desk, deposited the gift back into his drawer, and stood to join the party now happening in the round table room.

———————————————————————

An hour and a half later, the expanse of time that Hotch was willing and able to put aside for non-work related activity, the party was reaching its close. Spencer admittedly had not been to a great many parties, but he was sure their impromptu gathering could not be accurately defined as one. Still, you seemed to enjoy it; laughing animatedly with JJ as she made some joke he couldn’t quite understand and happily licking the butter icing from the top of your birthday cupcake. The latter action sent an almost audibly sputtered breath from him as his eyes caught sight of your lapping tongue. Things only worsened when Morgan pointed out the icing smeared over your lips. In a single swipe you collected all the icing on the tip of your pointer finger and proceeded to salaciously suck the finger clean. Although, he was certain he were the only one in the room deriving such guilty pleasure from the objectively normal action. When it came to you his thoughts often derailed into either hopeless romance or crimson desire.

Normal work set in quite quickly after that. The usual routine of the office a little lighter after the celebration but the tasks still menial despite the ease Spencer found in them. Even as he flipped through the pages of his last folder, eyes zipping down the last page, he couldn’t prevent a small portion of his attention sticking fast to the gift he was yet to give you. Time was ticking by and he felt that if he didn’t do it today, he would never work up the courage again.

You were at your desk, your hunched figure almost framed by the dramatic floral arrangement still upon your desk. Hand resting upon the gift, as though the item would somehow bestow him confidence, Spencer methodically formulated a plan. He wondered if maybe he should approach under some other guise, add some forced casualness into the giving of his gift, but he couldn’t conceive of a viable option.

He considered making you a coffee, a splash of milk and one and a half sugars just as you liked, but it was past four pm. You never drank coffee after two pm, even when you were miles from home on a case filled with late nights. It was some unspoken rule of yours that he had never seen you break.

He considered bringing a file over to you and asking for help. That ruse would be see through, however. He had never asked you for help before and the mere prospect that he wouldn’t have finished by now would certainly either cause you great suspicion that he was up to something or inspire concern in you that something had happened to his brain.

His lips twitched and fingers drummed against his desk as he considered his options. It seemed, much to his chagrin, that he would simply have to approach you guiseless.

Something Spencer’s wandering mind had somehow not noticed, however, is that in all the time he had been considering his options his eyes had been fixed on you. It was little surprise, really, his gaze found you so often it was likely his eyes naturally rested upon you at this point. Unfortunately, the passive attention had not gone unnoticed. Your lips forming his forename pricked his ears and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

Focusing more intently on you, he leaned towards your desk with a question. “Sorry, what was that?”

You didn’t answer immediately, eyes wandering over his figure in some kind of assessment of his faculties. Eyebrows crinkling together when you rematched his gaze, you stood and moved closer to him. “You okay?” He nodded quietly, swallowing thickly as you stood over him. “You seem a little… lost in thought.”

Gaze dropping from you momentarily, he looked to the gift still beneath his palm. It truly was now or never. He opened his mouth to speak, lifted his hand to offer the parcel to you, but was cut off by a loud and sudden yowl from the kitchenette. The pair of you turned your heads in tandem, the yell so full of anguish it was impossible to resist, the gift hovering between you yet to be accepted.

The source of the yell was Morgan. The man was cradling his right hand as he leaned heavily against the sideboard, pain apparent on his features and continued groans escaping him.

Neither of you moved right away, assessing the situation as best you could from afar but when crimson began leaking from his clenched hand you took off with a muttered curse. Depositing the gift back upon his desk, Spencer quickly sprang from his desk to follow you.

———————————————————————

“Morgan, what happened?!” You asked, voice high pitched and frantic, as you pried his clenched fist open. A large cut was sliced across his palm and as the pressure of his fingers lifted the gory mess worsened dramatically. “Reid, hand me that paper towel.”

“Got it,” came Spencer’s reply beside you. You raised a grateful glance to him as you took the paper towel before concentrating on your task. Pressing the towel over the cut, you encouraged Morgan to use his other hand to apply significant pressure.

“Look in the sink,” Morgan gave eventually, by way of explanation. Peering into the murky depths of the overfilled sink you raised an eyebrow.

Spencer voiced the question on your mind. “I don’t see anything?”

With a huff, Morgan nodded, “exactly.” Nodding to the sink, he continued; “someone,” he stressed the word as though he knew exactly who that someone was, “left a knife in there despite me telling her every week how dangerous it is.”

Spencer grimaced at the sight of blood seeping through the paper towel and leaned closer with crinkled eyebrows. “Let me see,” he requested, frown deepening as he inspected the wound. “You’re going to need stitches,” he asserted, much to Morgan’s clear disappointment.

Morgan looked to you as though in search of a second opinion, you merely shrugged. “I’m not gonna argue with the doctor.”

Spencer gave you a little smirk. A few months ago he might have reminded you that he wasn’t actually a medical doctor but it seemed he knew you well enough by now to recognise the joke.

“I’ll take you,” you offered Morgan with a sigh, already fishing for your keys in your jacket pocket.

Spencer’s voice stilled you. “I can do it,” looking to him, you raised your eyebrows in silent question at this strangely sweet gesture. “It’s your birthday,” he pointed out needlessly, “and there’s only seventeen minutes left to work; you’re going out for drinks tonight,” you nodded in a confirmation of this fact that he didn’t really need. “enjoy your birthday, you don’t get to very often.”

A smile lifted your lips even as you felt guilt wash over you at the prospect of letting Spencer deal with this. Considering, you chewed your lip. Your lengthy consideration, however, seemed to take a little too much time for Morgan. “I’m about to bleed out over here,” you rolled your eyes dramatically at him.

“Are you sure?” You asked, attention back on Spencer, shifting in your heels in premature excitement.

“Absolutely,” he told you, resolute.

You squealed with excitement and, overcome with gratitude, sprang forward to hug the man. He responded with a surprised “oh” alongside an almost nervous chuckle.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pulling back but still smiling up at him. The pair of you remained like that, smiling dumbly at each other, for perhaps a moment too long.

Morgan straightened and interrupted the moment with a clear of his throat. When he had gained your attention, he told you with a smile; “happy birthday, really, but my hand is gonna fall off if we don’t go soon.”

“That’s highly doubtful,” Spencer began, almost looking affronted by the outlandish suggestion, “for your hand to ‘fall off’ it would be necessary to cut through several layers of skin and muscle. Plus-“

“Reid, let’s go.”

Remembering himself, Spencer blinked rapidly a few times before nodding like a bobble head, wishing you a last farewell, and rushing off after Morgan.

Watching the pair disappear you sighed, hands wrapping around your elbows. A strange disappointment that you couldn’t quite place had overtaken you as they had left. Pulling yourself together, wanting to feel nothing but positive on your birthday, you turned your attention to the kitchen.

You cleaned up as best you could, wiping down the surfaces and carefully extracting the offending knife from the sink before draining the ruby tinged water. Within ten minutes the kitchen looked as though nothing untoward had occurred; a miracle really, considering the surprising amount of blood Morgan had produced.

With little time left until you were free to enjoy your birthday to the max, you meandered back to your desk. On the way, the forgotten parcel upon Spencer’s desk caught your attention. Changing trajectory, you stopped at his desk and delicately fiddled with the tag of the gift. Your name was scrawled upon it in Spencer’s familiar, somewhat scruffy, handwriting.

Would it be considered rude for you to take the gift and open it? After all it was clearly meant for you and he had already attempted to deliver the gift himself.

This ‘consideration’ was merely surface level; the gift was in fact already sitting upon your own desk being less than delicately unwrapped by your impatient fingers.

Slowly, a book was revealed. As you turned the tome over a gorgeous floral illustration met your gaze. Running your fingers over the somewhat raised golden lettering, you read the title; “The Secret Language of Florists.”

A few months ago you had been entirely floored to learn the secret messages that could be sent using nothing but a well designed floral bouquet. You could hardly remember what had been the catalyst for the conversation, perhaps one of the BAU’s many unusual cases, but you had been strangely fascinated by the entire concept. A sprig of purple heather to wish the recipient good luck, for example. And, your personal favourite, the inclusion of a single white daisy as a silent vow to keep a secret.

There were so many more that Spencer had entertained you with, but they had fallen from your mind amongst the plethora of white noise that daily life forced upon you.

Excited by this gift, you turned to the first page. Between the cover and the first page, a pressed flower delicately sat; it’s rich red petals striking against the ivory white of the page. As you lifted the flower, wishing to admire its preserved beauty, you inadvertently revealed more of Spencer’s scrawled handwriting upon the page.

A message from me to you.

You grinned widely to yourself, shifting so excitably in your seat that anyone watching would think you were attempting some strange dance. So, the flower was a message - one the book could help you decipher the meaning of. Feeling like a spy deciphering this secret encoded message, you looked to the flower.

Even in its flattened state the flower was clearly a chrysanthemum. Taking care not to tear any pages in your excitement, you found the double page spread devoted to the flower. An illustrated yellow chrysanthemum decorated the middle of the page, providing confirmation that you had been correct in your initial assessment, and you skimmed through the surrounding words.

White chrysanthemums were symbols of truth, apparently, but you skipped past the rest of the explanation to find the meaning behind your red chrysanthemum. As you read the words, you brought the flower close to your chest. Your lips broadened into a giddy grin and your heart felt as though it may burst with sudden fullness.

A red chrysanthemum, very simply, means ‘I love you’.

Emotions

Spencer Reid x Reader Headcanons

Also I am so close to 300!!! Incredible!!! <3

Summary: The many feelings Dr. Reid experiences in life with you by his side.

Warnings: Mentions of drug addiction, depression, anxiety, angst, typical criminal minds stuff, spoilers up to Nelson’s Sparrow (season 10)

• Reid normally never let people on to what he was feeling, but after you entered his life he learned to let his walls down a bit
• You were friends before he was kidnapped by Tobias, and you were the only one he talked to about what had happened
• He tried to hide his addiction at first but since you were spending so much time together, you caught on
• You were the one that convinced him to go to NA meetings
• You learned to read his habits when things got bad, and gave him space when he needed it
• sometimes he would call you in the middle of the night as a distraction
• he would feel bad the next day but you’d do anything to help
• there was a long period of pining you had to endure before you got together
• this pining worsened when the team found out about Maeve
• Of course, she died shortly after the discovery
• You were just as sad as everyone else; especially because you now knew what Spencer had been hiding from you and how he didn’t feel like he could share it with you
• When Gideon was murdered you were the one to tell him
• it broke your heart to see him so distraught
• He had been distant after that, but eventually crumbled in your arms one day
• You are each other’s rocks
• Halloween is of course his favorite holiday, and you began to match costumes
• He would be the one to pick them out and it was something he put a lot of thought into
• Partaking in his “childish” activities meant the world to him
• He was also quite the romantic
• His shyness was an issue to open up at first ofc
• But small gestures provided by you really helped him
• He doesn’t always know how to use his words so he will express how he feels through acts and gifts
• A simple locket with a lot of meaning, taking time off work to focus on you, cooking dinner, etc.
• He loves words of affirmation
• They reassure him and his abilities
• When he is happy he starts to get flustered and ramble
• Just from the excitement this joyous thing is bringing him
• When he goes I to detail about this passions his hands move rapidly and eyes light up
• You could listen to him talk about pure nothing for days
• When he just can’t contain himself he will pick you up and spin you around and pepper you in kisses
• When he is sick he is the biggest baby
• Laying on the couch and watching doctor who cures him though
• He will reiterate scripts of movies to you sometimes
• Just to get them out of his head
• When he is worried about you he becomes very cold to everyone else around him
• His main focus is you, and he can’t deviate from figuring out the problem
• His eyebrows will get closer and his mouth will form a harsh line
• Focusing on something else? Nope. Only you.
• Like I said, you are each other’s rocks
• You keep each other steady and afloat