#spencer reid self insert
you & i are folklore — part three
summary: you knew he’d haunt you with all of the what-ifs.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
category: angst with ambiguous ending
content warnings:17+ only, cheating, arguments, minor language
word count:3k
a/n: here it is, the final part of this trilogy. it was so interesting for me to write and is a little more different from anything else i’ve worked on before. thanks to the anon for suggesting a trilogy based on these songs, and thanks to everyone who has supported this so far <3
You remember the exact moment your childhood ended. It was a day in middle school when you’d been talking excitedly about when you would find your own Prince Charming. Your teacher looked at you and told you that fairytales weren’t real, that expecting a Prince Charming of your very own was unrealistic. You’d gone home heartbroken that day, wondering why you’d spent so many years of your life hearing about them when all it did was get your hopes up.
When you met Spencer, he made it seem like fairytales could be possible. The moment SSA Gideon exited his classroom and asked you if you’d gotten to meet Dr. Reid, you knew. You knew he’d lied, and you knew that you wanted to see more of him despite it. So you let him show up to your training session on Thursday, you taught him pointers on his weaponry use, and only made it easy on him when he’d admitted the truth. You smiled then, asking if he wanted to get dinner with you sometime.
You thought for sure he understood that was a date, as were all of the dozens of others the two of you went on. And when he asked if you wanted to stay over at his apartment, you thought it was because he loved you. He’d even said those words before. Those three words that were meant to prove you’d found the one you wanted to be with.
So you let yourself fall headfirst for Spencer Reid.
You let yourself fall after every date, and every night spent with him, and all the times you surprised each other with lunch at work.
Traveling back to Seattle was one of the toughest things you’d ever had to do. But this was Drew, who had been your first friend in the FBI. The two of you had gone through the Academy together and had even ended up at the same field office. You’d gone through so much together there was no way you could let him get hurt.
Not when he’d taken on your assignment. The assignment that had gotten you so hurt that you couldn’t be in the field for years, the assignment that busted your cover open so wide that you had to move across the country for safety.
The assignment that had left you bitter for years. Everyone else had gotten to succeed in their jobs, had gotten to truly help people after going through all the hardship of proving themselves for the job. And what did you get? A position at the training academy.
But without any of that, you would have never met Spencer.
Before, you might’ve found that to be a blessing. Instead, now you wondered if it all hadn’t been a curse. Because here you were, still living in Virginia and working at Quantico. You spent your days trying to avoid Spencer, wincing at the mentions of the BAU. You loved your work and loved getting to hear about your trainees doing wonderful things after they left you. Even when you’d heard Seaver landed a role with your ex, you smiled for her and tried not to show how upset you were at the mention of his team.
Because in your toughest moments, he’d screwed you.
Staying in Seattle for that long hadn’t been in your plan. You’d gotten Drew back but the case wasn’t over. When your old team admitted they were struggling to take down the people who’d hurt you so badly, you knew that there would be no returning to your old life. Their faces would haunt your dreams until you took them down for good, so you’d called Spencer and told him you were staying another couple of weeks. And when another couple of weeks turned to months you told yourself that your boyfriend wouldn’t mind, that he would understand.
He knew what being taken felt like, he would understand not wanting to rest until those people paid for everything they’d taken from you.
It wasn’t until someone from Virginia called you that anything began to feel off. Inez wasn’t your best friend by any means, but as one of the front desk attendants, she knew a lot about every single agent in the building. If anyone had news and rumors to spread, it would be her.
It wasn’t a good thing that she was calling you now. Looking back, you supposed you knew what she was going to say before she’d even gotten the words out. Because what else could it have been? What else would have made sense except “Y/N, I saw Spencer with another woman today. Why didn’t you tell me the two of you broke up?”
It was a lonely flight back to Virginia. You were sure your heartbreak was obvious to anyone who dared meet your gaze on the plane. It was obvious to the flight attendant when you’d asked for one more drink than what was socially acceptable on a plane, and it was far too obvious when you looked at the home screen of your phone and winced upon seeing his smiling face staring back up at you.
The apartment that had once felt like home felt cold now. As soon as Spencer opened the front door, you knew that everything Inez had told you was true.
Because now, Spencer wasn’t happy to see you.
And honestly, that was the most heartbreaking part of it all. After so many months of missing him, after years of being happy together, looking at him and seeing the dread clear on his face completely crushed you.
“Tell me it’s not true,” you begged, though knew that if you went searching you’d likely find another woman in the apartment you’d once called home. Never once had you expected this kind of betrayal from him, not from sweet Spencer who had kissed all of your scars and promised you were beautiful. The man who had held you nearly every night since you’d met and said he’d always be there for you.
“Y/N, I d—” And somehow, you knew Spencer would try to talk you out of it. Despite everything he said, he was good with his words. How could he not be, after spending so much time with his team? The scary part was, if you let him talk now there was a good chance he could talk you out of everything you came here to do.
“That better be the truth coming out of your mouth right now.” You couldn’t take anything else, not after months of him telling you he loved you, of saying he missed you and couldn’t wait for you to get back. How many times had he said that whileshe had been laying right next to him? Did the other woman even know that you existed, or had Spencer promised her the world too?
“Why are you here, Y/N?” Spencer snapped them, expression shutting off in cold anger that was surprising even to you. “You left for four months, what else was I supposed to do?”
“Notfuck another woman in our bed!” you screamed, the words tearing through your throat so harshly you knew your voice would be raspy tomorrow.
“My bed!” Spencer corrected in just as loud a voice, “You don’t get to be angry, you left!”
“So what, every time you go on a case I get to go whore around whenever I want? Is that what you’re saying?”
“You’re not my girlfriend, you can do whatever you want.”
And fuck, did that sting more than anything else. Spencer could have said anything to you, but this?
“What do you mean?” you asked, body quivering from the frustration flowing through it now. “What do you call the past four years?”
“We never defined what we were,” Spencer pointed out, and it was then that the other woman appeared from around the corner. You knew that was where the bedroom was—you knew this apartment better than you knew your own, at this point.
You never defined what you were. Through dinner dates, and kisses and hugs, through nights spend so wrapped up in each other you didn’t know where he ended and you began, you’d never definedit?
“What did you think we were? You thought I was fucking you because we were friends? Saying I loved you for the hell of it? Fuck you, Spencer Reid,” you shouted out, trying your best not to look at the other woman in the room. Because damn it, she was gorgeous. You didn’t know her, thankfully, but that also meant you had no idea where he’d met her. Was she another agent? Was she a barista at your favorite coffee shop? The one where you’d get a coffee for you and Spencer nearly every morning?
“For four years, you never thought to clarify if you were confused? That’s bullshit, and I don’t believe it one second. You just didn’t want to date me,” you continued, feeling all of the anger and stress from the past few months rush back to you all at once. “You think I didn’t see it? Every time you dodged your friends’ questions about me, how you never wanted me to meet them? You could’ve just said it instead of pulling this shit.”
“Saywhat, Y/N! What could you possibly be talking about?”
“You’re ashamed of me! Just say it, Spencer! I’m the fucking burnt-out expired agent who fell for you! I’m not some flashy, talented BAU agent, and you can’t stand that, can you?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Spencer shouted right back, and you knew it was bad because he hardly ever cursed like that. “Why would I have ever been ashamed of you? Clearly, I made the right choice though, look at you! You’ve always been overdramatic, even now!”
“Youmade the right choice? You sure did make the right fucking choice, Spencer. Have fun with her, I never want to see you again.”
Your duffel bag felt a lot heavier on the way out of the apartment building. Tears blurred your vision but it didn’t matter because you knew the building layout by heart. You got home and immediately collapsed to the ground, back against the front door. The apartment was quiet, a thin layer of dust settled over everything after months of disuse. It felt more hollow than you remembered like you’d left a part of yourself behind at Spencer’s. Maybe you had.
It seemed impossible to get over him, at first. Inez was a star, always letting you know when he was walking into the building so you could avoid ever seeing Spencer again. You’d keep your word on that end—you truly never wanted to see his face again, not after seeing it so twisted up in hateful anger that night.
As the years passed, it got easier to move on. You and Spencer had both made mistakes that night, and had both been responsible for how it had ended up. Maybe the two of you just weren’t meant to be together. And maybe, despite however much you had hoped, fairytales just didn’t exist. Peter would lose Wendy, the glass slipper wouldn’t fit, and Spencer would leave. Always.
It was far too easy to create a new life in Virginia once accepting this one fact. Suddenly it was okay to pass by Spencer in the halls, to see his team teaching some new profiler recruits. You would say hello to Penelope Garcia and not feel a pang in your chest at the way Spencer had hidden you from them all so easily.
And suddenly, Inez was throwing you a birthday party and you weren’t upset that Spencer wouldn’t be getting an invitation. You could have fun with friends and never wonder how that relationship could have ended up. After all, the two of you had been far too young to expect forever to magically happen. This was real life, where love was hard and life was even harder.
The party was fun. It was everything you could ever hope for in a party, in fact. Your friends were all gathered around you and for the first time in years not one of them brought up Spencer. You were happy.
It was only right then, you supposed, that Spencer Reid himself would ruin that.
He always seemed to have perfect timing, even back then.
Seeing his face on the front porch stunned you beyond words. He was much older than the last time you’d stood this close—his hair longer and curlier, facial hair on his once smooth face, hazel eyes a little more sad and worn, speaking to the years of hurt he’d experienced. Of course, you’d heard of everything that had happened since you’d last seen him. Losing Emily, getting her back, prison.
Still, this was the man who’d looked at you and told you that you weren’t good enough. The one who had once made you feel more special than anyone else ever had then discarded you at first chance. You were the old cardigan he outgrew his use for, the one crumpled to the bottom of his bed and waiting for someone to care enough to find you.
“Y/N,” Spencer spoke after what felt like forever, voice hesitant even now. “I missed you.”
“You don’t get to miss me,” you offered instead, shutting the front door so none of your friends would hear this conversation. They all still hated Spencer after what he’d done to you, after all the nights you spent crying to them about everything you’d lost. Surely if they saw him standing here now, they’d pull you away before he could say what he came to say.
And call you a masochist, but maybe you wanted to hear him out, just one more time.
“I know,” Spencer admitted, expression falling and losing that hope you’d long since abandoned before. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. Everywhere I look, I see you. I think about you on the couch with me on the weekends, and you showing me how to cook because I never really learned how. When I go to sleep, I see the first time we met, at the Academy after I’d been convincing Gideon to come back.”
It’d be a lie to say you never thought of him either. Sometimes, when the night was too quiet and the world too dark, you imagined what the two of you could have been. If you would’ve forgiven him that night, if the two of you could have talked it out instead of yelling at each other, if he wouldn’t have assumed you didn’t care enough about him to want to date.
“You cheated on me,” you told him instead of admitting any of it. It was easier to hate Spencer, to wish he’d never come around. You could curse him, could blame him for everything, and you could someday be happy.
But instead, he came back. He came back and there he was, standing on the front porch of your birthday party saying all of the things you’d wished he’d said years ago.
“I would never intentionally cheat on you, Y/N,” Spencer promised, “I really didn’t think we were together. I should’ve known, but I didn’t.”
“It’s in the past,” you told him, wrapping your arms around yourself like that might save yourself from this. Because seeing him now, seeing how you might’ve grown older with him, pained you more than you’d thought it would. It brought up all those moments you’d spent with him—laughing over a new recipe together, curled up with one another on the couch, and placing a hand over his book so you could press a gentle kiss to his lips.
It was all over now, left behind in the bottom of a cardboard box with an old cardigan and a thousand memories.
“I want to try again,” Spencer admitted, stealing every breath from your lungs. “I know we made mistakes before, but I think I’ve always known you were it for me. You’re the one. And I understand if you never want to see me again, but I couldn’t stand the thought of letting you think I never cared about you. I always meant it when I said I loved you.”
How could you possibly answer that? After so many years, after all the time spent trying to piece yourself together without him, he wanted back? Could you start over? Could you look at him and never see that woman who he’d placed between you?
There were too many questions without answers, too many ‘what-ifs’, and too many risks.
And yet, despite the years and distance between you, this was the same Spencer you had once loved. His eyes still sparkled when he looked at you like you were his favorite person of all time. His hands were still restless, picking at his own fingers as he waited patiently for your answer. You were sure if you saw his apartment, it would still be the same cozy place you’d always loved.
This was still Spencer Reid, the man who had captured your heart and once taught you that you were lovable. The man you’d once wished would come back to you.
The one you maybe still wanted to come back to you.
And so, looking at him now on the front porch of your friend’s house, while a dozen people celebrated another year of your life just inside, you knew your answer.
GENERAL TAGLIST@samuel-de-champagne-problems@silverhetdanes@ssawonderland@safespacespence@reidsbookclub@katymarie@mrsobrien888@writingquillsandpainpills@fightingdragonswithreid@lil-stark@sweetandsunny@stillsleepynat@this-is-doctor-and-its-calm@givemeth@foxy-eva@lilibet261@kateyee@exhaleli@m-mhotchner@darkeunology@nomajdetective@fairyellieee@meggie-m00n@twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome@kaitieskidmore1@delicatespencer@serenity-lattes@goldentournesol@rexorangecouny@sultrypotter@tanyaherondale@reliefplease@lcveandrea@1-800-brain-and-heart@lcvingprentjss@thisiscalm-andits-doctor@nani-2305@mente-sindescanso@girloncorneliastreet@reidselle@pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet@just-a-lone-writer@luna-novae@maltamurdock@folkreid
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At Ease (S.R.)
Summary: Spencer comes home to his partner and finds them still asleep.
Request: Spencer comes home late from work and the reader is already asleep and Spencer just admires how beautiful they are and cuddles with them? -
A/N: Just an excuse for Spencer to pontificate about his lover.
Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content Warning: None
Word Count: 675
What did it mean to appreciate the quiet? Spencer had never been sure. After all, the silence was something so rare that he wasn’t convinced he’d ever experienced it before. Even at night, he would find himself humming along with the soft sounds of the fridge, the television, the lamp.
He had never found any need to be quiet because there was always something else to be heard. There was always a page to be turned, a floorboard to creak, or a yawn to be had.
But that night as he opens the door to your home, the clicking of the lock seems deafening compared to the peaceful serenity on the other side of sturdy wood. He hears the stark contrast of him and home, and he pulls his luggage closer to be sure that it would not disrupt the calm.
He tries to remember each creaky floorboard on his way to you. He plans his movements carefully, ensuring he is as silent as his shadow as he creeps through your halls without a peep. With a lightness to his fingertips and toes, he pushes the door to your shared bedroom open. He holds his breath as the sight comes into view. He watches, as silently and carefully as he’d come.
Your arms lay in front of you, reaching to the empty space where he should be. He notices the way you offer your palms to the nothingness without fear of what they’ll find. He sees the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep and he finds an appreciation in the quiet.
As he steps closer, he curses the world for not being quiet enough to let you rest the way you deserve. He hates the weight of his own footfall, even though it doesn’t appear to wake you.
He knows in that moment that what he had to offer would never be enough. But still, he has to try. He has to strip the layers of rustling fabric as quietly as possible, all the while straining to keep his eyes on your sleeping figure. You would be fine without him keeping watch over your dreamland, but he does it, anyway.
Because there is something about the way that you sleep. It is the way your arms, though notably smaller than the walls surrounding you, still offer him a home. The soft curves of your body remind him of his childhood, of when he’d admired the mountaintops off in the distance. His fingers would follow every peak, every fall. He longs to touch you, too, but he decides that his memory would have to do for now.
For now, he would just watch you. Spencer would soak in the wonder that was your most innocent state.
And your eyes, albeit closed, reassure him that there is something beautiful to be found in the absence of your voice. The same way that you are beautiful when you are awake. That breathtaking type of wonder, that absolute impossibility that is each imperfection. Every freckle, wrinkle, or crease carved by something greater than any scientist could ever hope to comprehend.
He hopes that he will never understand, that he will never grow tired of seeing how you change. He wants to memorize every iteration of you that he has the privilege to witness.
Despite having loved you for eternity, he falls in love with you again. But Spencer fights the urge to fall to his knees before you. Instead, he climbs into the sheets and is amazed to find that you still do not wake. Instead, your lips curve into a small smile.
Glassy eyes follow that shift, they flow down your figure until they land on your hands. Your hands that are still reaching out to him in the darkness, palm open and hoping, even when you are asleep.
Your hands reach for him in the darkness without fear of what the future holds, because you know that he would take your hand.
Every single time, he would.
Every single time, he does.
(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)
SFW Taglist:@emilysprentisss,@fbivestreid,@kiyokos-bitch,@twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome
Reid Taglist:@dreatine,@shilohpug,@draw-back-your-bow,@gspenc,@hopefulfangirl24,@a-broken-pact,@lotties-journey-abroad,@beeblisss,@reidsbookclub,@allthecolorsneverseen,@lovingloony,@sydneekomspacekru,@random-human-person,@laurakirsten0502,@dontcallmekittens,@sapphic-prentiss,@rintheemolion,@andreasworlsboring101,@imsuperawkward,@violetclifford,@averyhotchner,@strictlyforliterarypurposes,@auspiciousharriet,@thotforcriminalminds,@spencerreidsmommy,@wentz2005,@liaaacantwrite,@blxndeprincess,@safespacespence,@mrsobrien888,@jayyeahthatsme
Summary: Reader is a barista who has been missing their favorite customer for the past three months. One rainy day, he walks in like nothing happened.
A/N:
Hi there! Welcome to my first official fic! This imagine was written for @imagining-in-the-margins ‘s Discord fic swap (which was a blast, might I add). To my lovely @ctrlalt-del, this one’s for you! I hope you enjoy!
P.S: My requests/inbox are open! Feel free to send me any ideas; smut, fluff, angst, you name it!
Couple: Spencer Reid/GenderNeutral!Reader
Category:
Fluff
Word Count: 1.3K
——————
The early Saturday shifts were calm, yet slightly pitiful. All they consisted of was dusting between the same few crevices about twenty-seven times, or at least until there wasn’t a single espresso grain in sight. And as if the leisurely cleaning wasn’t tiring enough, the rain pattered heavily against the building, causing everything to feel twice as dreary. Not much activity was happening at the little coffee shop on the corner, especially not at the ass crack of dawn. I’d almost given up on seeing anyone before the sun would rise when the first ring of the doorbell chimed.
“I’ll be right with you!” I watched the final beads of coffee drip into the cup before making a quick effort to tend to the customer. After all, people tended to be ruder than usual at this hour. At least, before they got their coffee.
“I’m sorry for the wait… What can I get for y-“
The ceramic slipped from my fingers as I gasped, sucking in breath as I awaited the dreaded crash by my feet. There stood the man, drenched by the morning showers. His hair hung in loose, soggy curls. He wore a soft yet longing smile across his face. That smile belonging to Spencer.
“Hey.” His eyes were wide, surprised by the sudden accident.
“Good morning! Oh my god, you’re soaked! Do you not have an umbrella?” Careful not to slip on the spilled drink, I frantically searched for any sort of towel to help his current issue, never mind the coffee.
“No, I forgot it this morning.” His eyes followed as I ducked underneath the counter, slowly peeling his now twice as heavy blazer from his shoulders.
“Spencer! You’re going to catch a cold!” I settled for a roll of paper towels, tossing them over the counter.
He stared at the towels for longer than I had expected him to before adverting his gaze back towards myself.
“Why are you staring at me like I’m the crazy one?” I couldn’t describe the way he had looked at me then. Longing, dazed, I wasn’t sure. But it had certainly set my heart into a thumping frenzy.
“Did you…call me Spencer?”
As a matter of fact, I had. A slip of the tongue, if anything. The man had never told me his name. Nor had I asked.
“Oh,” I spoke, eyes widening in alarm. “Yeah. I did. I’m sorry!”
I attempted to recall the memory of when I had first heard his name. A friend, co-worker, someone who he had arrived at the shop with months ago. She had called him Spence, to which I had assumed was a nickname for Spencer.
“One of your co-workers called you Spence so I just figured…”
“No, it’s fine!” He smiled then, noticing my panic and placing his jacket over the back of a chair. “I just didn’t realize you know my name. I definitely didn’t expect you to remember it.” His voice softened, trailing off as he slowly peeled a few towels from the roll.
His words took me by surprise; of course, I would have remembered! Spencer’s early morning presence was what kept me excited for another shift. I was always greeted with a cheerful “good morning”, a soft smile and an occasional compliment regarding my hair or outfit for the day. I wasn’t sure how I would have forgotten those soft hazel eyes followed by his small, button nose that would scrunch out of habit. I found myself drifting into my own thoughts, leaving us both in awkward silence.
“Why would I forget?” I shifted a few cups on the counter, waiting for his eyes to meet my own once again.
He placed the damp towels into the trash beside the door before running his palms over his shirt, realizing that it was still soaked before shaking his hands slightly in attempt to dry them.
“I…I just haven’t been by in a while.”
“Yeah, three months, right?” I shook my head, allowing myself to laugh at my own stupid thoughts. “A-At first I thought you’d finally gotten tired of me and were just avoiding my shift.”
He almost gasped, taken aback by my statement. “Oh, God no! No, I haven’t had a decent cup of coffee since the last time I saw you.”
A playful smile overtook my face as I offered, “Do you want to fix that?”
He seemed to relax, breathing out a sigh that I hadn’t realized he was holding in and tucking his damp hair behind his ears.
“Definitely, although I’m a little worried I’m developing a Pavlovian response to seeing you.”
I giggled as I fixed a new cup underneath the espresso machine. “The training experiment with dogs? Am I the dog or the bell?”
“You’re definitely not the dog.” He laughed as I finished his cup, placing it on the other side of the counter.
Handing him a few napkins to hold underneath the steaming drink, I studied his current appearance. “And you’re very puppy like. It suits you.”
He gave a small nod before moving to sit. I watched for a couple of seconds before turning my attention back to my obnoxious cleaning.
The shop was quiet for about two minutes, other than my audible, uncomfortable grunts as I separated the shards of glass from the coffee puddle. I allowed a few rags to soak up the mess as I sighed, placing my hands on my hips. Spencer had been watching, gulping down a rather large sip before speaking softly.
“I missed you.”
Talk about the world’s heaviest eye contact as we both attempted to decide if those words were meant to be spoken before I decided to respond.
“Really?”
He seemed hesitant to answer before giving a slow nod, averting his eyes to the liquid in his cup. My heart most definitely swelled, rocking back on my heels as I watched Spencer fidget in his seat.
“…Do you want to hear something embarrassing?” I suddenly announced.
“Embarrassing for you or embarrassing for me? Because that will determine my answer.”
I gave a soft smile before responding. “For me.”
“Then continue…” He smirked behind his mug, taking a large gulp.
“So, I just remade that drink for you.”
It took him a few seconds to fully comprehend what I had said, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I made that drink for you earlier, which…” I gestured to the soaking paper on the floor by my feet. “Is the drink I dropped on the floor. But even if I hadn’t dropped it, I would have remade the drink because I was worried that you’d think I was weird for having it made already.” I felt my face flush as his eyebrows raised in question.
“How did you know I was going to come in?” He placed his cup down on a napkin, twisting it by the handle as he watched it slide.
“Well, I didn’t. For three months every morning I… made one anyway. Just in case.” I stumbled upon my words, flustered as my little coffee shop crush was becoming a bit more obvious the more I spoke. “Is that weird? I’m sorr-“
I was then cut off by an aggressive screech of chair legs against the hardwood floor. Spencer sped behind the counter, stepping over the mess that had yet to be properly taken care of before pulling my body into the warmest hug I had experienced in a quite some time. Despite his attire being damp, I placed my head against his shoulder with a deep sigh.
“What’s this for?” I finally spoke as he took a step back to meet my eyes.
“I never expected anyone to have waited for me.” His words were laced with genuine sadness, his eyes sparkling with appreciation.
I shook my head with a playful smile, patting his chest softly. “You underestimate me, Spencer.”
“You? Of course not! Your barista skills, well…”
