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reidsaurora · 1 year

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Part Six: "Paint The Kitchen Neon" ~ S. Reid

Summary: In preparation of Imogen's Christmas visit, Spencer decides to employ the help of Penelope in an endeavor to paint his apartment. Little did he know he'd also be employing her for some much needed advice.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Imogen Sterren (bipolar!OC) and platonic!Garceid

Word Count: 3,122

Content Warning: one (1) explicit swear word, light mentions of food, light mentions of the sanitarium, a light mention of medications, lmk if i missed anything!

Genre: Fluff? i guess Angst if you squint but it's really just Spencer being an overthinker

Extra Notes: none that i can think of right now!

Based On the Song: Soon You'll Get Better by Taylor Swift

Originally Written/Re-Written: 06/27/2022 through 07/13/2022 and 12/11/2022

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

"Soon You'll Get Better" series masterlist can be found here!

"𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭." - 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐥

Christmas was now only a week away, and Spencer couldn't be more excited. The sound of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer could be heard on the television, probably fifty presents lay underneath the tree, and the smell of Spencer's favorite cinnamon candle wafted heavily in the air.

There was only one thing missing, and she'd be there in only a matter of days.

Spencer's every thought was filled with Christmas cheer. It wasn't until a certain blonde knocked on the door that he was shaken from his thoughts.

"Merry Christmas week," Penelope smiled as Spencer opened the door for her.

He gave her a small, closed-lip smile as he closed it behind her. "Merry Christmas week to you as well, Pen."

She grinned thankfully as she hung up her coat, noticing Spencer's favorite cardigan hanging from the coat rack. "Hey, I was wondering where that went," she said, pointing to the sweater. As she looked it over, she noticed three gold stars stuck to the pocket area. "That's a new addition."

He blushed as he remembered his lunch date with Imogen and Diana. "When I visited Mom, she quizzed me and Imogen on Margery Kempe. She gave us gold star stickers every time we got a question right. Those are the only ones that haven't fallen off yet."

A puzzled look came across Penelope's face. "Huh, that's a strange coincidence. Three gold stars for three golden people."

Spencer chuckled, almost silently, at his friend's comment. His lips puckered as if he'd gone off into deep thought about something, though Penelope was unsure what the subject of his thoughts was.

"So," she said with a smile in an attempt to distract him, "You told me to throw my hair up and put on some clothes that I didn't mind getting dirty. What fun and messy activity are we attempting today?" she asked, her braids flopping as she turned to face him.

"We…" his voice trailed off dramatically as he grabbed a bag from the kitchen counter, "are going to be painting my apartment."

Her jaw flew open in surprise, her brows raised in confusion. "You, Spencer 'I hate change' Reid, want to paint your apartment?"

"Is there a problem with that?" he asked, a laugh threatening to roll off his tongue.

"No!" she panicked. "I'm just… confused," she corrected him. "I mean, in all the time I've known you, I've never once heard you talk bad about your hunter green walls."

He supposed she was right. In the three years they'd known each other, and in the almost four years he'd been staying in that apartment, not once had he complained about the wall color. In fact, he believed that the wall color was part of what attracted him to the homey feel of the unit in the first place.

"I just thought it was time for a change," he answered. "A good change," he clarified.

Penelope could tell there was a hint of a hidden message in Spencer's statement, but chose to ignore it. "Well, lucky for you, boy wonder, I painted my own apartment all by myself, so now I know what mistakes to avoid this time."

He chuckled quietly. "That's awesome, Pen. I'm just gonna go change my outfit, but I'll be back ASAP."

And with that, Spencer jogged off to his bedroom to change into some painting-appropriate clothes.

As he tossed his shirt onto the floor, he noticed he'd left Imogen's last letter laying atop his dresser. He inspected it for a moment, noting the gold star she'd drawn on the bottom corner beside her name.

He half-smiled, his lips going into their signature scrunch as he re-read the letter.

"Dear Spencer,

Is it any coincidence that when I tried to pull the stickers off my sweater, three of them seemed to be perpetually stuck? It got me thinking—about the number 3, that is. First of all, there's three of us: you, me, and Diana. Then, there's the fact that my room is the third door on the left side of my hall. I'm writing this on the thirteenth, and it's the third weekday of this week. I met you during the third week of October.

I don't know. Maybe it is all just a coincidence. But that pesky little number seems to be following me everywhere.

So, that got me thinking about this book. Have you ever read "Angel Numbers" by Doreen Virtue? Well, just in case you haven't, she says that seeing the number 3 means the ascended masters, like Jesus or Ganesh, are near and listening to your prayers.

I suppose it's true. I have been praying every day since I met you that I'd be able to see you outside of this stuffy place. And now, I'm going to see you—flying in on the twenty-third and staying for three days.

Anywho, I suppose this letter is getting about as pesky as the number 3. I can't wait to see you next week!

I <3 ya, - Imogen 𖤐"

Spencer smiled as he placed the letter back on his dresser. He thought about her words—what the number three meant. He supposed, too, that there must be some truth in it. After all, he'd also found himself hoping and praying for some way to get her out of that sanitarium.

He turned his attention back to the task at hand, quickly changing his clothes before re-entering the living room.

By the time he'd made it back, Penelope had already started to cover the baseboards and electrical outlets with painter's tape.

"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten where your own closet was," she joked.

Spencer shot her a small smile before grabbing the extra roll of painter's tape and crouching down in front of the baseboards.

As he stuck a piece of the bright blue tape to the wall, he called, "Hey, Penelope?"

"What's up?" she replied, her words nearly running together as she focused on covering the light switch.

"Do you believe in angel numbers?" Spencer asked as he looked up at her.

Her eyes narrowed as her lips pressed tightly together—her pondering face. After a couple of seconds, she nodded. "I suppose anything is possible if you have enough faith in it," she answered. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. I've just been researching a ton of religions lately," he lied. "For light reading."

He'd noticed himself doing that—lying—a lot since he'd met Imogen. He didn't blame it on her, but he did wonder why the two felt the need to be so secretive when they weren't even dating.

He wondered about that, too—if he'd ever have the courage to actually ask her to be his girlfriend. He thought about it every day, even promised himself he'd ask her in person when she visited. Still, the idea of having a girlfriend that lived 2,423 miles away from him worried him beyond belief.

"You mean you've been studying a ton of Imogen lately?" she kidded, smiling to signal that it was a joke.

He sighed, hanging his head. "Yeah, actually," he admitted.

Penelope gave him a half-smile before taking him by the hand and leading him to the couch. "I was going to ask if you were OK, but I realize that's a stupid question," she said as she sat down. "So instead, I will ask: what's eating at ya?"

Spencer fiddled with his fingers, avoiding eye contact with Penelope. "Imogen mentioned in her last letter that the number three had been following her around," he started, still fidgeting with his hands. "She explained to me that it means a higher master, like God for example, is watching out for you and hears your prayers."

Penelope nodded so as to show him she was intently listening to him, though she was genuinely curious as to where this was leading.

"She told me she prays every day that she'll be able to see me for Christmas. She told me a few days ago that she'd like to move in if she ever gets released," he further explained. "It's got me thinking: do soulmates really exist? And if so, how do I know she's mine? I mean, what if we've just convinced ourselves that we're soulmates, when in reality, it's just infatuation fogging up the windshield?"

"Spencer," she sighed, grabbing one of his hands in both of hers and rubbing the skin with her thumb.

Tears pricked his eyes, a couple spewing over his eyelids. "Penelope, I'm scared that one of us is gonna turn the wipers on and realize that it was all just infatuation fog."

She grabbed a tissue from the coffee table, placing it lightly in his hand as she said, "OK, first things first, that was actually a very cute analogy."

A smile—a genuine smile—found its way to his lips. For a split second, he almost felt content, like he was in the most comforting place known to mankind.

"Secondly, I think you don't give yourself the credit you deserve. You're a good person, Spence. Yeah, that means you're more likely to get burned. But it also means you have this uncanny ability to see the best in people. So, when everyone else might be looking at Imogen and all they see is a mental illness diagnosis, you, boy wonder, are gonna see anything but that," she smiled. "You're gonna look at her and see all of her quirks—like how she refuses to go to the bathroom with the door locked. You're gonna see her imperfections—like how she can't make a grilled cheese sandwich for shit," she said with a giggle, which earned her a giggle from Spencer too. "But most importantly, you're gonna see that that's what makes Imogen Imogen."

Spencer chuckled through his tears. "OK, seriously, why didn't you become a therapist or something?" he laughed lightly, dabbing his tears away with the tissue.

Penelope gave him a kind smile as she answered, "Because then I wouldn't have had the pleasure of knowing you."

He smiled as the two stood up from the couch. He gave her a quick hug, leaving a soft kiss on her hairline. "Thank you, Penelope."

"No problem, string bean," she kidded. As she pulled away, she asked, "Hey, can I play some Christmas music while we work?"

"You wouldn't be Penelope without it," he chuckled.

Eight hours, multiple cups of coffee, lots of Ella Fitzgerald, and several deep talks later, Spencer's living room and kitchen were finally painted "Sunburst" yellow. Sure, they'd have to apply a second coat the next day, but even halfway through the process, the room already felt more cheerful.

"I love it!" Penelope squealed, signaling how proud of their work she was.

Once again, Spencer found himself grinning from ear to ear. "I love the way it turned out."

Penelope turned to face him before giving him a kind smile. "Imogen's gonna love it, too."

"How did you -"

"Spencer," she started hesitantly, "I've never seen you act this way before."

He blushed, looking away. "Is that a bad thing?"

"It's a beautiful thing," she informed him. "I don't know anyone else who'd paint their house for someone who may never get to see it," she said, immediately regretting her words. "Uh, that's not what I meant," she panicked.

He chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I understand what you meant, Penelope."

"Anyway," she continued, "I think it's beautiful that you'd do this for her. The way you treat Imogen…" she searched for her words for a moment, "It's like she hung up the moon and stars for you."

Spencer stayed silent, opting instead for a closed-lip smile.

"You said before that you were worried about the infatuation fog," she brought up. "Maybe that fog is caused by the clouds of love."

Spencer gave her a toothy smile this time, wrapping her up in a tight hug. "You will never understand how much I cherish you, Penelope Garcia."

She giggled into his chest. "I love you too, you big dork."

After a moment, Penelope let go and walked over to the door. As she grabbed her coat from the coat rack, she said, "Remember to take your meds tonight, drink plenty of water, and don't sweat the little stuff."

Spencer's lips turned upward as they scrunched. "You too."

"Love ya," she grinned.

"Love you too," he grinned back as she grabbed the door. Quickly, he spoke back up. "Hey, Penelope."

"Yeah?" she asked, turning back to face him.

"She may get to see the new paint job sooner than you think."

Penelope's eyes grew in wonder as her jaw dropped. "Really?!"

He nodded, his lips pressed into a tight smile. "Mhm," he answered. "Her doctor is releasing her for Christmas."

Penelope stuttered some form of words that Spencer understood were congratulatory, before running over to hug him once more.

"Will I get to meet her?" she practically shrieked in excitement.

"Maybe," he told her. "I made a list of all the things I want her to see while she's here. You're pretty high up on it."

Her bottom lip puckered out in gratefulness. "You do love me!"

He chuckled, "Did you ever doubt it before?"

"No, but now I know you really love me," she grinned as she let go.

He chuckled as she walked toward the door, rambling a PowerPoint presentation's worth of ideas she had for when she finally got to meet Imogen.

She rambled the whole way out the door, only stopping to say, "I love you," once more.

Spencer chuckled as he closed the front door behind her. He turned to take another look around the room, taking in the new pigment on the walls.

As he looked around, he remembered the one thing, or rather, one person he'd been avoiding. He felt a wave of guilt come over his stomach—the kind of guilt that, no matter how hard you tried, you'd never be able to swallow it back or simply shrug it off.

He sighed nervously, grabbing his phone. His hands shook as he regretfully dialed the number he dreaded most at that particular moment. "Yes, this is Dr. Reid. I'd like to speak with Diana Reid, my mother," he exhaled, apprehension almost audible in his voice.

He waited anxiously as he was placed on hold, attempting those all too familiar breathing exercises both Penelope and his therapist reminded him of every time they spoke to him.

"Yes, this is Ms. Diana Reid," his mother answered.

Spencer almost let out a chuckle at her formality. "Hey, Mom, it's me."

"Oh, hi, Spencer," she replied. He could almost hear a smile sitting on her lips.

As he remembered the reason why he was calling, his previous feeling of guilt started to flood his stomach again. "I have a sort of a strange question for you."

"Damn, not even a 'How are you?'"

Spencer let out a shocked chuckle. "Language, Mom."

"Sorry," she laughed along. "Though, if you can't ask me how I am beforehand, it must be important."

Guilt. Horrible, wretched, sin-filled guilt. "Has Imogen said anything to you about Christmas?"

Diana thought long and hard for a moment. "Not that I can remember, no."

He braced himself, knowing his mother would appreciate best if he just ripped the bandage straight off. "Well, she told me in her last letter that she won't be home for Christmas."

"Oh," her voice fell in what Spencer assumed was disappointment. "Well, that is rather sad. Though, I'm more upset that she didn't tell me."

Spencer wondered why Imogen never told Diana. He wondered if it was out of secrecy or sheer forgetfulness. He attempted to ignore his thoughts before moving forward. "The problem is, Mom," he paused to nervously lick his lips, "she says she wants to come visit me for Christmas."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Diana exclaimed.

"Now, I know that it's tradit-" he stopped mid-sentence when he processed her reaction. "Wait, what?" he asked, feeling like his eyes would bug out of their sockets.

"I think it's a wonderful idea. I think she'll really enjoy herself in Washington."

"You do?" Spencer couldn't recall another moment where he'd felt remotely this befuddled. He'd braced himself for impact, but nearly forgot that there was a possibility of his mother being happy for him.

"Spencer," she said, using that tone she always used when she was going to give a lecture, "even I can tell that you love her."

Spencer thought about her words for a moment. He wondered if love was too strong a word, if what he felt for Imogen was just infatuation. But his mind wandered back to the first time he laid eyes on her, then that night when he helped her through her panic attack—that's when he realized it was quite the opposite. Love couldn't even compare to the feeling he had for her.

Still, he replied to his mother with, "I'm not sure I'd say that just yet, but she is pretty special to me."

Diana stayed silent for a moment. Unbeknownst to Spencer, she had shed a few silent tears. Though her tears were filled with slight sadness, the most significant emotion fueling her tears was joy—absolute joy that her son had found what she believed was true love. She'd wondered if Spencer would be luckier than she was in love, and when she saw the way he and Imogen looked at each other, she knew. He'd found the Catherine to his Heathcliff.

"Spencer, I remember when you were a little boy, when I'd read all those novels to you. I remember hoping and praying that you'd get luckier than I did. Now, it feels like it's happening right before my eyes."

Cold, wet, gratitude-filled tears fell from Spencer's eyes. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Spencer. Don't think for one second that I'll be upset that you won't be here for Christmas. You deserve it. Imogen deserves it too."

Though she couldn't see it, he gave her a bittersweet smile. "Thank you."

Diana was the one who hung up first, much to Spencer's relief, because he wasn't sure he had it in him to say goodbye to her. In all honesty, he might've stayed on the phone with her all night just to make up for everything.

He placed his phone back on the coffee table, taking another teary-eyed look at his new wall color. He sighed contently as he thought of Imogen, knowing that in a matter of days, he'd finally be in the same room as the girl who made him fall in love with the neon color that now lived on his living room and kitchen walls.

"𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭." - 𝐖𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

CAN YOU GUYS BELIEVE WE'RE HALFWAY THROUGH THE SERIES ALREADY 😭😭

Buckle up because something is coming very very soon!! You'll have to wait until next week... or maybe the next week... or maybe even the next week to find out what I mean. But it's coming, and you'll know.

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this week's chapter of SYGB! I look forward to seeing you guys in the same place, same time next week!

↳ Request an imagine here!

↳ Join my taglist here!

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↳ TAGLIST: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @Gal-obsessed-with-marvel @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @Criminalmindsandmarvel @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @aislingcanning @dungeons-are-too-cold @bbbbbbbbbbbbbbl @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahargrove @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @rexorangecouny @lcvingprentjss

☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆

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honeysuckleharringtons · 2 years

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Navigation ☆ About Me

About Me:

→ name: emmy/emily/mills

→ age: nineteen

→ religion: Christian

→ pronouns: she/her

→ zodiac: leo ☼ libra ☽ aquarius ↑

→ personality: enfp ☆ 2w3 ☆ gryffindor

→ other stuff: chronically ill ☆ suspected neuro divergent ☆ currently studying creative writing

My Favorites:

→ shows/movies: criminal minds, stranger things, supernatural, dharma & greg, alexa & katie, monsters inc, the princess bride, hot air, peanuts, twilight, harry potter, christopher robin

→ characters: spencer reid, penelope garcia, steve harrington, robin buckley, max mayfield, sam winchester, dharma montgomery, greg montgomery, alexa mendoza, sulley, westley, buttercup, lesley smith juniment, woodstock, snoopy, alice cullen, seth clearwater, winnie the pooh

→ music: one direction, niall horan, harry styles, noah kahan, blake rose, taylor swift, hozier, sabrina carpenter, five seconds of summer, bts, lewis capaldi, julia michaels, phoebe bridgers

→ romantic ships: spencelle/reidaway, hotchniss, demily, garvez, dharma x greg, spenlexa, buttercup x westley, lesley x summer, jalice

→ platonic ships: garceid, moreid, morcia, stobin, elmax, stustin, kalexa (?), bellice

→ interests: novel writing, screenwriting, acting, fashion, baking, listening to music, watching new shows + movies

About This Blog:

→ who i will write for: steve harrington, eddie munson, billy hargrove, jonathan byers (i may branch out in the future, these are just the ones i feel comfortable and confident writing right now!)

→ things i will write: fluff, angst, somewhat suggestive content (never full smut), hurt/comfort, pretty much any genre you can think of

→ things i won't write: character x character (just because i don't really have anything i ship enough to want to write fics for it), kids x reader, full on smut (you can redirect these requests to my nsfw blog @hornyhornyhimbos), self harm, anything non-consentual

Links and Such:

→ main blog: @ofwilliamandwalter

→ fanfiction recs blog: @paperbackprettyboy

→ icons blog (inactive): @scrapbookspence

-> nsfw blog: @hornyhornyhimbos

→ beta reader signups: linked here!

→ masterlist: linked here!

→ current pfp: these icons by @ilovegilmoregirls

→ header image: pinterest

→ navigation images: pinterest

→ navigation dividers: these dividers by @firefly-graphics

-> masterlist icon: these icons by @peachy-ash

-> masterlist images: pinterest

-> masterlist dividers: these dividers by @anlian-aishang

Tags:

-> steve reblogs - #steve 🫶🏻

-> eddie reblogs - #eddie 🎸

-> robin reblogs - #robin 🍦

-> chrissy reblogs - #chrissy 📣

-> nancy reblogs - #nancy 👒

-> jonathan reblogs - #jonathan 📸

-> argyle reblogs - #argyle 🍕

-> dustin reblogs - #dustin 🤖

-> mike reblogs - #mike 🕹

-> lucas reblogs - #lucas 🏀

-> max reblogs - #max 🛹

-> el reblogs - #el 🧇

-> hopper reblogs - #hopper 🚓

-> vecna reblogs - #vecnussy 🥀 (why do i have this tag)

-> stobin reblogs - #boobin and steeb 🍦

-> hellcheer reblogs -> #hellcheer ❤️‍🩹

-> steddie reblogs - #steddie my loves

-> jancy reblogs - #jancy 📰

-> cheerscoops reblogs - #cheerscoops 💚

-> byler reblogs - #byler boos 🖌

-> fruity four reblogs - #🍓🍒🍉🍎

-> show reblogs - #that's just life in hawkins

-> joe keery reblogs - #joey my love

-> joe quinn reblogs - #quinnie my kinnie

-> grace van dien reblogs - #grace van damn

-> jamie bower reblogs - #jamie campbell bestie

-> charlie heaton reblogs - #charlie not brown

-> natalia dyer reblogs - #natty ice ice baby

-> writing rambles - #my paddles ✍️🏻

-> random rambles - #not my paddles

-> fic reblogs - #hawkins public library 📚

-> inbox replies - #anons are schmackin'

-> queued things - #queue rule queue suck

#about me #all about me #get to know me #get to know the blogger #get to know the writer #get to know the author #get to know the creator #about the blogger #about the writer #about the author #about the creator #navigation #blog navigation #navigation page #navigation post #honeysuckleharringtons #honeysuckleharringtons navigation

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converse-spence · 3 years

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Spencer being from Vegas is always cold. It’ll be like 60 and be like 🥺 ‘it’s freezing’. And of course Penelope can’t let her boy genius freeze!! So after an infodump about wired heated blankets Penelope buys him a microwaveable one. It wasn’t a surprise he knew when she asked but he still lights up when she gives it to him. It goes to other precincts with him and if his tummy hurts from too much dairy he sleeps with it. There’s one night where Penelope comes over for a marathon of the most recent season of Doctor Who before the Christmas special comes out and when she opens the door she finds him knocked out on the couch. When she gets closer she sees he’s curled around the heating pad. Which makes her 🥺🥰 and she just curls up on the couch after picking out a book from his library and making a glass of wine. When he wakes up he’s so apologetic but she waves him off cause it’s nice to see he appreciates the gift. And that makes him blush. Another time Penelope is on location with them and can see that Spencer’s getting overstimulated and is touch aversive and she heats the pad up for him and places it on his temporary desk. They don’t say a word because they both know what the other would say but Spencer smiles and presses it tight against his stomach.

I had more thoughts but I got distracted by work so I’m just gonna tag @drreidsboyband and if I think of anything else I’ll reblog it.

#spencia #spencia blurbs #garceid #garceid blurbs #spencia fluff #garceid fluff #Spencer Reid x Penelope Garcia #spencer reid #penelope garcia #criminal minds #criminal minds blurbs

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bentforkent · 3 years

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milk & honey

(penelope garcia x spencer reid)

i wrote this within the past hour because i wanted to read it. be the change you want to see in the world <3

word count: 1,108

content warning: SMUT 18+!!! mommy kink, non-sexual BDSM a little, size kink kinda, small cock spence <3, handjob

in which spencer can’t sleep and penelope knows just the thing to help

Spencer pads out to the living room, sweaty and disheveled. Silently, he moves to stand behind Penelope’s desk chair, just standing there, rubbing at his eyes and sniffling.

Penelope, noticing his presence pretty quickly, turns to him, pausing her video game. Her pink headphones are pulled off of her ears and set down on her desk. “What’s wrong, baby?” she asks him kindly.

It’s not alarming that he’s awake, really, but definitely out of character. Spencer crawls into bed every night at 9 o’clock sharp, where he reads and reads until his eyelids hang low and he falls asleep. Penelope can’t even count how many times she’s pulled books from his hand or removed his glasses gently.

It’s nearing 1 AM now, and typically, Spencer would be fast asleep, dreaming of dinosaurs and kittens and lunches with Ray Bradbury. But here he is, standing nearly naked in front of Penelope, covered in a thin layer of sweat, briefs hanging low on his hips. His normally slicked-down hair is messy and soft. He’s so endearing, and Penelope can’t help but reach for his hips and tug him closer to her, inviting him to stand between her legs.

“I can’t sleep,” he says through an impossibly sweet pout.

“I see that, my love.” Penelope grins up at him, trying to lighten his mood, but he’s sleepy and he’s grumpy and instead of humoring her with a soft smile, he knuckles at his eyes in response.

Penelope coos at him, and it only serves to make him more upset. “What does my baby need right now, hm?”

Spencer huffs, trying to pull away from her embrace. “Nothing,” he mumbles. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Oh, don’t be a martyr, Spence,” Penelope says, pressing a gentle kiss to his lower stomach. She ushers him to the couch, parting the sea of throw pillows to give him a place to settle.

“Sit,” she tells him very seriously, then rushes to the kitchen to make him a tea of some sort. Usually, Spencer is the one making her a tea, so she’s a little bit out of her element, but how hard can it really be? Her first task is finding a mug--they’ve got quite the collection, the pair of them, but she chooses a clearly handmade one with the moon painted onto the side. Then, it’s all just water, tea, milk, and honey.

When she comes back, Spencer’s staring off into the distance, eyes glazed over and tired, playing with the tassels on the bright blue pillow next to him. She offers him the drink, and he accepts with both hands, taking a tiny sip.

In a small, very polite voice, he says, “Thank you, mommy,” and Penelope melts.

It’s silent for the next few seconds, but Penelope can tell Spencer is thinking. His brow furrows ever so slightly, and his head tilts almost imperceptibly. “Can I have a kiss?” he asks.

“Baby, you don’t even have to ask,” Penelope gushes, gently setting his mug onto the coffee table and kissing over his face repeatedly. I love you, I love you, I love you, she murmurs, and it’s soothing Spencer, definitely, but also working him up. The whole reason he couldn’t sleep in the first place was because he jolted awake around midnight, hard and leaky, but he was too embarrassed to tell Penelope that. And he wouldn’t. He was hoping the problem would just go away, but as Penelope is sitting right here next to him, kissing him so tenderly, he abandons that possibility.

It’s when Penelope places an innocent kiss on Spencer’s jawline that he slips up, bucking his hips up into her with a whine. He flushes bright red, and Penelope pulls away from his body with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, I see what this is all about,” she says.

Spencer covers his face with both of his hands. “Mommy,” he whispers.

“I know,” Penelope agrees with a chuckle, tugging at his wrists gently. “Let me see your face, baby.” He peeks one eye out and Penelope continues, “I think if you let me take care of your little cock you’ll sleep a lot better. What do you think, my sweet love?”

Spencer nods eagerly. “Yes, yes please.”

Penelope nods, pressing a firm kiss to his neck. She runs her hand down his torso slowly before pulling his underwear down just enough to pull his cock out. Spencer hisses at the contact, and Penelope gives him a sympathy pout in response.

“Spit,” she requests, holding out her hand. Sheepish, Spencer spits into her hand, watching intently as she wets his cock, trying to hold back a moan. She makes a loop with her index finger and thumb around the base of him, causing him to let out a soft whine.

“Look at this pretty little cock,” she says sincerely, working her fingers over him skillfully. “So small and pretty and all hard just for me.” She’s talking to herself, mostly, because Spencer’s eyes are screwed shut and he’s babbling far too loud to hear anything but himself.

“Mommy,” he whimpers, reveling in how nice her hand feels on him.

“I know, baby,” Penelope replies. “Feels good, hm?”

“Mommy, mommy, mommy,” he says, like a mantra, and then his legs are stiffening straight out and he’s bucking his hips up and he’s cumming, a generous spurt over Penelope’s hand.

“Good boy,” she tells him, holding her hand up to his mouth. He pulls her fingers into his mouth, partly to clean his mess off of them and partly to soothe him. They sit like that for a little, enjoying being close to each other. When Spencer’s eyelids are sufficiently hooded, and he hums around Penelope’s fingers, they stand together.

Penelope tugs his briefs back up his legs and pats him gently on the ass, sending him towards the bedroom. When he’s finally snuggled into the sheets, Penelope leans over and kisses his forehead softly.

“I love you, sweet boy,” she tells him very matter-of-factly.

“I love you too,” he says, straining up to kiss her lips gently. “Come to bed soon.”

#ta-daaaaa #garceid #penelope garcia x spencer reid #spencer reid smut #penelope garcia smut #spencer reid #penelope garcia #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #idk tagging is so annoying

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queeraaronhotchner · 3 years

Note

alright im just a sucker for penelope/spencer so... penelope wearing a soft sweater with pom poms and spencer just loves fiddling with them. theyre just having a relaxing day and are knitting while watching doctor who and spencer pauses to toy with one of the pom poms. hes all sleepy too so he lays his head down on penny's shoulder. she stops crafting so quickly to cuddle him cause spencer + soft + sleepy=😍. - converse-spence

tysm for sending this @converse-spence this is so fucking precious :,)) i hope you like it!! i sort of just made like.... a longer version of this ask so i'm sorry it isn't super original or anything <3

my asks are OPEN for requests!

💛💛💛💛

spencer loves when penelope wears this sweater, especially on their few and far between days where there’s truly nothing they’re needed for. they have no paperwork to catch up on, penelope isn’t developing any fancy new software, and spencer is taking a day off of all the extra work he puts himself through (penelope was the one who made him take a break, but he’s doing it either way, so she’s happy.)

spencer absently bats at the pom-poms that line the cuffs and seams of penelope’s sleeves, almost cat-like. watching mesmerized as they swing back and forth with his own motions and penelope’s. she’s knitting as doctor who plays in the background, while spencer is curled into her side with his head on her shoulder. reid twists two of the pom poms together, before moving down her sleeve and doing it again.

he feels his eyes start to grow heavy as he pushes impossibly closer to penelope. somehow, nothing gets him sleepier than just sitting here, safe and warm with her.

he lifts his head off penelope’s shoulder, and she barely has time to look disappointed before he’s readjusting, leaning down and setting his head in her lap, and immediately, she puts her knitting down. if he wasn’t already on the verge of falling asleep, he would have told her not to stop on his account, but then her hand drifts to his hair, and he quickly becomes grateful he was too tired to talk.

she plays with his hair, massages his scalp with those long fingernails, and finally, reid allows sleep to take over him. his last thought before his eyes slip shut is that wow, he hasn’t felt this safe in a long time.

#there's been a lot of garcia+boys today and if youre not here for that im sorry! but if u are here for it i hope i have done well by u!! <3 #garceid #garcia #reid #my writing #fluff #blurbs #f/m

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morceid · 3 years

Text

Maple Leaves and Moving In

SPENCER REID X DEREK MORGAN

read on ao3

Summary: Derek and Spencer move in together in mid-September.

Word Count: 936

Category: fluff

Content Warnings: none :)

A/N: happy fall everyone!!

“Spencer!” Derek exclaimed as he got out of the car, “You’re gonna hurt yourself carrying all of those boxes, let me do it.”

“Fine, but I have to tell you where to put them!”

After a year and a half of dating, Derek had finally asked Spencer to move in. Derek wrote a whole speech and took Spencer out to a fancy dinner just for her to blurt out “Yes!” as soon as he asked. Spencer let him finish his speech anyway, letting his words make her smile until her face hurt.

Derek carried the box, marked with Spencer’s threadbare handwriting, into his newly finished development and up into Spencer’s new study, designed specifically for her. Bookshelves ran all the way up and down the walls, with a moveable ladder attached. Spencer followed behind him with a second box, marked “stuffed animals.” She places it in a small nook in the corner, where she plans to put a bright blue bean bag chair.

“Alright, a moving truck is coming in later with all of the furniture I ordered, how about you put up all of your books and I’ll get the rest of the boxes from the car?”

Spencer nodded and rolled up the sleeves of her sweater. She opened up the box Derek had brought in and took out all of the books. She organized them alphabetically, got up on the ladder, and started placing all of the books on the shelf. When Derek came in with another two boxes of books she organized those as well. By the time she was done, Derek had ordered take out for the two of them.

They sat down on the floor of the new study and began eating together, watching the late october sun go down through the large window on the left wall.

“I have to fly out tomorrow to Washington to give a speech. Are you gonna be okay here by yourself? I know it’s your day off.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I can find something to do with all these boxes,” Spencer smiled, “I just wish you could stay, it would be amazing if we could have a halloween themed housewarming party!”

“Ah, that would be pretty great.”

They finished their meal and shortly after the moving van came into their driveway. Derek and the moving men brought in all of the furniture, including the rest of Spencer’s books and her bean bag chair. While Derek set up the king sized bed on the second floor Spencer arranged her stuffed animals all around the bean bag chair.

“You’re getting settled in pretty fast,” Derek said when he came down the stairs and into the study, seeing Spencer cuddled up with a book in her corner.

“Yeah,” Spencer smiles, “It’ll be less homey without you tomorrow, so I figure I should get used to it for now.”

“Come on sweet girl, I don’t have to go until early tomorrow, we should spend as much time together as possible.”

“Okay, I guess,” Spencer smiles up at her boyfriend and moves to the side, letting him settle next to her in the blue bean bag chair.

The two cuddle together in the comfy chair, and at some point while Derek is running his fingers through Spencer’s hair and as she’s reading, the two fall asleep next to each other.

In the morning, Spencer wakes up alone. A little sad, she sees that her book had been placed on the table next to her, a bookmark on the page she had been reading. She got up from the bean bag and observed the books around her. She mentally prepared herself for the day ahead and went into the kitchen.

She made herself a quick breakfast of toast, eggs, and bacon, along with a small bowl of fruit. After eating, she went back into the study and began sorting the books one by one. On each shelf she organized them alphabetically and by length. She ended up finishing up right around lunch time, and after eating her second meal of the day she went up to the bedroom and sorted some of the boxes in there, then the bathroom, and so on.

In the living room she found a box labeled “Holidays.” Upon opening it, she found a bundle of fake autumn leaves, miniature pumpkins, along with other assorted seasonal decorations. With a new burst of energy, Spencer called Penelope.

Many hours later, specifically around 11:30, Derek sluggishly carried his suitcase up to the new house, stopping to look around at the browning and yellowing leaves on the ground. A symbol of change.

When he walked into the house he saw that there were still boxes around the house, however most of them were empty now. He set his suitcase on the ground and walked into the living room.

“Spence?”

Out of seemingly nowhere, Spencer jumped up behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. The lights turned on, showing the fall decorations all around the house.

“Hey there sweet girl, I see you’ve been working hard.”

“Mhm, Penny came over and helped, but it was mostly me,” Spencer smiled proudly.

“Well you two did an amazing job, it looks great,” Derek kissed her on the forehead, “Let’s both get to bed now, yeah?”

Spencer nodded and they held hands and walked up the stairs. They settled into the flowery sheets together and cuddled, Spencer nuzzled into Derek’s neck.

“Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. I’m glad that you feel safe enough to live with me.”

“I love you too Derek.”

“Goodnight, my butterfly.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

TAGLIST: @garceids @moss0ntherocks @scandinavian-punk @queuecode @4x24 @izzyl13 @leomo0n @tiedyedrose1705 @harpersequoia @tenelvez @wifeyprentiss @moreidsdaughter @sapphicalexblake

#moreid #pluto writes #criminal minds #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #moreid fanfiction #moreid fluff #criminal minds fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #userpenemily #robbie look🐛

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derekluvbot · 2 years

Note

107 with garceid please? Ty :3

a/n: oh my god, i'm so sorry it took me so long to get this one out. i've been swamped with school and i've just generally lacked the time/energy to write. anyway thanks for the asks. i'm not in love with the finished project but i hope you enjoy nonetheless.

prompt: “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you don’t think I can see you.”

wordcount: 907

warning/ notes: mostly fluff, a few angsty moments because of misunderstanding. probably hella typos. i'll edit again tomorrow.

Her couch is just as soft as it usually is. The soft glow of her apartment hasn’t changed, and neither has the calming presence of the women it belonged to.

But for the first time ever, Spencer is widely uncomfortable in Penelope’s home. He’s been fidgety, barely paying attention to the history documentary (that he requested) playing on the TV. He’d been picking at his cuticle so intensely it had started bleeding, but he showed no time of stopping anytime soon, his mind a mess of confusion and self doubt.

Before his poor finger can suffer the brunt of his frustrations anymore, Penelope walks in with a bowl of popcorn and catches him. She grabs his hand gently, and his look of surprise quickly turns to guilt.

“Sorry”, he mumbles sheepishly, his fingers twitching without something to focus on.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”, she asks.

Spencer shakes his head. There's no point in lying to her, she can always tell, but she might not make him talk about it. He takes his hand back and begins to fidgeting again.

“Come on”, she prods gently, taking a seat beside him, and taking his hands in her own.“Can you let me try to make it better?”

Her eyes are patient and attentive, her thumbs rubbing gentle circles over his knuckles. Spencer doesn’t know how she manages to get whatever she wants from him every time, but like always, Penelope finds a way. He takes another minute to collect his thoughts and process what he’s going to say. Finally he opens his mouth to speak, not really sure what’s about to come out.

“One thing I value about our relationship is that we are always honest with each other”, Spencer begins. Penelope smiles one of those soft grins he loves, and it encourages him on. “I don’t get that from everyone, for whatever reason. Maybe they think I can’t handle the truth, but it’s not like that with you… It usually isn’t.”

Penelope frowns at the implication. “Have I done something to make you feel like I’m not being honest with you?”

He nods.“Yes. Well, maybe not blatantly but still something is different.”

“Spencer, sweetheart, I’m going to need you to be a little more specific than that” she chuckles, despite her clear concern.

He goes quiet again, and his mouth screws up to the side like he’s struggling with the words.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you don’t think I can see you", he explains.

Something quick passes over her expression, and after years of profiling (and studying Penelope’s face) he quickly recognizes it as guilt. “Spencer, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It’s a lie.

Her dishonesty only makes Reid more upset, and he takes his hands back from her again and stands up. “Listen, I might not understand what it means, but if I did something or if you want to stop spending time with me, I’d appreciate it if you'd just come out and say it.”

His expression shows anger and hurt, but it’s only there to thinly veil his anxiety. He looks one second from walking out that door, and Penelope sighs, knowing she has to come clean.

“Ok I’m only telling you this because I know you’re gonna internalize it if I don’t”, she starts. “Also you’re right. We’re always supposed to be honest with each other.” She reaches out her hand to take his again, and reluctantly he gives in.

She smiles softly gently and continues. “If you think I’ve been looking at you weird recently, it’s not because I don’t want to spend time with you anymore. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Then what is it, Penelope?”, he questions with a raised eyebrow.

With a deep breath she says “I recently realized that I like you. Like a lot. Definitely more that is appropriate for two FBI workers, and I don't know what to do with that because you are my best friend, and I don’t want to ruin our friendship just because I got a crush.”

Spencer is too stunned to even begin forming a response. Out of everything he thought might have come out of her mouth, Penelope Garcia admitting she had a crush on him was nowhere near the top of that list. “You feel that way about me? Are you sure? ”

Something about Reid’s utter confusion tickles the woman and she giggles despite herself. “I’m afraid so, boy wonder.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Penelope, you do know I’ve had a crush on you since I’ve met you right?”

“Spencer… It's been years since we met.”

He only nods in response. Penelope doesn’t know what to say either. It doesn’t feel real, or even remotely possible. But now that Reid’s looking at her with such raw vulnerability, she doesn’t even give a second thought before standing up, and lifting her head to place a soft kiss to his lips.

It’s very brief, and incredibly chaste, and absolutely everything it needs to be for the moment.

Before she can even form the words to make sure Spencer was okay with what just happened, the man is leaning down to kiss her again, this time deeper, and purposefully, communicating everything he can’t say right now.

They pull apart and just bask in each other’s presence, with soft, stupid grins on their face. It feels like a promise.

#asks <3 #treaz's writing #treaz's blurbs #garceid

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reidsaurora · 1 year

Text

Part Four: "The Best of a Bad Deal" ~ S. Reid

Summary: It's been a month since Spencer and Imogen's first phone call, and the two are beginning to settle into their new nightly routine. However, after a confession and some advice from Penelope, Spencer realizes just how much he wants to make the best of a bad deal.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Imogen Sterren (bipolar!OC)

Word Count: 2,399

Content Warning: mentions of hospitals, mentions of medications, food consumption, lmk if i missed anything!!

Genre: Fluff? i guess a lil Angsty here and there but mostly Fluff

Extra Notes: this probably goes without saying but i love garceid in this series fr

Based On the Song: Soon You'll Get Better by Taylor Swift

Originally Written/Re-Written: 06/20/2022 and 11/20/2022 through 11/23/2022

Beta Read By: @theghouligan

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

"Soon You'll Get Better" series masterlist can be found here!

"𝐈𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬;" - 𝟏 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝟓:𝟏𝟖 (𝐍𝐌𝐁 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Soon enough, Halloween had come and gone, and now Thanksgiving was on everyone's minds. Stores were filling up with Black Friday deals as they were running out of turkeys and pumpkin pies. There was only one week until Thanksgiving, and probably only one person who wasn't thinking about it.

After his long work day filled with stacks upon stacks of papers and a panic attack teetering on the edge since the moment he walked into the office, the only thing on Spencer's mind was getting home and calling Imogen.

However, Penelope had other plans…

Spencer loved Penelope. Don't get him wrong. But one thing he didn't love about her? Those pleading puppy-dog eyes she'd pulled out when she'd asked, "Can you come by my place for dinner tonight?" The reason he hated it? Because as soon as she pulled those eyes out, he couldn't help but ask, "What are we having?"

That was how Spencer found himself sitting at Penelope's bar, munching on some tortilla chips as she prepared vegetarian tacos, Spanish music playing softly on her stereo.

"So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?" she asked, turning to face Spencer.

"I don't really know," he answered from his bar stool. "I had thought about going to see my mom, but I'm not sure Hotch would give me clearance to take the week off on such short notice."

A pang of guilt shot through Spencer's stomach as he thought about the lie he'd told. Sure, Spencer wanted to visit his mom, but what he really meant was that he wanted to visit Imogen. To be fair, after calling Imogen every night for a month, he couldn't help but crave that oxytocin he'd felt that morning when she held his hand.

"That sounds nice," Penelope commented. "Do they do anything special for the patients on holidays? I mean, I'm sure they will probably give them something at Christmas. If they don't, may their souls not be at rest for a thousand years."

"I'm not really sure if they do anything for Thanksgiving. I'd have to ask. "I'm sure Imogen would know."

His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he realized he'd said her name aloud. He swallowed hard, secretly praying that Penelope wasn't as good a profiler as the rest of his team.

"Oh," she said with a nod. "Hey, who's Imogen?"

Spencer quickly searched his brain for a cover-up, eventually landing on, "She's my mom's favorite nurse. She talks about her a lot."

"Aww, that's so sweet," Penelope smiled, showing off nearly every pearly white tooth in her mouth.

As if she could sense an awkward silence about to come over the room all the way from Las Vegas, Imogen dialed Spencer's number, his ringtone blaring over the Spanish music.

"Speaking of my mother," he chuckled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He headed into the bathroom, a smile creeping its way to his lips with just the mere sound of her breathing.

"Hi," Imogen smiled, a sound nearly as sweet as the cookies Penelope had placed in the oven.

"Hey," he replied, quietly closing the door behind him. "How are you feeling?"

"Really good. My doctor said today that I'm officially back in maintenance, so she wants to try weaning me off my Prozac and adding my Depakote back."

"That's good," he grinned, holding back a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"What about you?"

"I'm OK. I forgot to tell you, but my therapist upped my dose of Lexapro yesterday. She knows how bad my attacks have been getting lately, so she thought it might help. I almost had an attack today at work, but Penelope talked me through it," he explained.

Imogen's mouth scrunched sideways. "Well, at least she was able to help you."

"I wish I could've called you though," he said. "Your voice always calms me down.

"I'm just glad you're OK. I wish I could see you soon."

Spencer exhaled sadly. He dreamt of some way to change that. He craved so badly to hug his mom, to hold Imogen's hand, to celebrate Thanksgiving the way it should be celebrated.

He swallowed hard, turning his attention back to the girl on the phone. "I wanted to come see you and Mom for Thanksgiving, but I don't know if I'll be able to." He smiled hopefully as he told her, "I'm definitely gonna come see you guys on Christmas, though."

"I'd like that a lot. I can't wait to hug you this time."

Spencer felt his cheeks heat up at the idea of hugging her. If he had to be honest, he'd actually dreamed of kissing her the next time they reunited. Spencer craved nothing more than to taste the soft, sweet lips that whispered words of affirmation through the phone every night.

"Well, I promise a hug isn't the only gift I have planned for you," he chuckled. He hesitated for a moment when she became silent. His eyebrows furrowed, and finally, after about twenty seconds, he realized the error in his wording. "That's not what I meant," Spencer cringed.

"Uh-huh," Imogen smirked, a chuckle sitting

on the edge of her tongue.

"Well anyway," he replied, a blush tinting his cheeks, "I really do have plenty of other gifts planned for when I visit."

If Spencer hadn’t been so smitten, he might've been embarrassed by his more-than-friendly behavior. Alas, it was true, however. The second the clock hit midnight on November 1st, he'd begun planning out the entire Christmas season. And the second he'd left the office that same day, he'd started his Christmas shopping.

"Well, that's very thoughtful of you," she giggled.

Spencer had loved Imogen's laugh from the first moment he heard it, but after their new routine had caught on, it was like he couldn't fall asleep at night if he hadn't heard it that day.

He took a deep breath as he realized he needed to get back to Penelope soon. "Hey, I'm sorry I have to be so short tonight. Penelope offered to have me over for dinner, so I really should head back out before she suspects anything."

"That's alright, Spence. I understand."

With a small smile, Spencer said, "We'll talk soon, OK?"

"OK. Love you, bye," Imogen smiled as she hung up.

Her words replayed in his head, like a scratched record stuck on a loop. "Love you, bye." It was the first time either of them had said "I love you."

Her words echoed again before the sting of shock sank into the deepest part of his stomach. They'd known each other for one month, thirty-four days to be exact, and yet he already knew exactly what his response would've been if she'd given him enough time to answer.

Spencer tried to make the best of a bad deal, knowing she probably didn't mean to hang up so soon. It went without saying that Spencer loved Imogen. It showed in all aspects of his life. From the encouraging words he said every time they spoke to the weekly letters he'd started to send her two weeks prior, Spencer was consumed by the ever-growing fire that was loving Imogen Sterren.

Shaking off his thoughts, he placed his phone back into his pocket and walked back out to Penelope, who was already plating the tacos.

"How is she?" Penelope asked, placing the dishes down at the bar.

"Who?" Spencer asked, lips pursed in confusion.

Penelope nearly laughed as she replied, "Your mom."

"Oh!" he exclaimed, their previous conversation coming back to his mind. "Yeah, she's great. Really great."

She let out a long but shallow breath as she sat down on the barstool next to Spencer's. "Can I be honest with you about something?"

"Of course," Spencer answered.

Penelope was the one person who didn't even need to ask. With Penelope, there was no fear of a sudden panic attack. With Penelope, there were no secrets. With Penelope, Spencer could be himself.

Well, unless a long-distance girl friend (emphasis on the space, in Spencer's mind anyway) who Spencer definitely didn't have a crush on was involved.

She nearly lost her breath before she could get her sentence out. "I know about Imogen."

Spencer felt himself turning hot, his blood boiling with anger. "You what?!" he practically yelled.

"Before you get mad, please know that I will always support you and I am so sorry I didn't tell you sooner!"

"How did you-"

"I know I shouldn't have, but I noticed your demeanor change, so I automatically assumed it was a girl, and I wanted to run a background check to make sure she wasn't secretly an awful person. I do it to all of Morgan's girlfriends too, if it makes you better," she rambled apologetically.

"Penelope, you can't just run background checks on your friends' significant others. And besides, I'm not dating Imogen, anyway."

"Oh…" she said. "Well, would you like to tell me about her?"

Spencer blinked in confusion a couple of times. Finally, after a few seconds of silence, he asked, "How did you find out about her?"

"OK, so, I noticed that you always have somewhere to be at 8:00 every night. On duty or off, you always have an excuse to leave the room at around 8:00. So, I got curious, and I saw in your phone records that you make nightly calls to a Las Vegas number. At first, I assumed it was your mom, until I looked at the extension number and noticed something was off," she explained.

"Penelope," he face palmed, "why did you go snooping around in my phone records?"

"It was for a good cause. I needed to make sure you weren't part of a cult or something," she answered. "Anyway, I found a forum online for the Bennington Sanitarium that listed the extensions for each group of patients. I noticed that you'd been using the extension for high-functioning patients, which your mom is not. So, I did a little more snooping and found that Patient #4692 has been making nightly phone calls to a D.C. phone number. So, I looked up her patient ID in the system and bada-bing bada-boom… I found Imogen."

"How long have you known?"

"Two days," she sighed in relief. "It feels good to finally get all that off my chest."

Spencer wanted to be mad. In fact, he probably should've been mad at Penelope for what she'd done, at least in his mind, anyway. Instead, he just wrapped her up in a tight hug, placing his head gently on top of hers.

"Well, this is certainly not the reaction I was expecting, but it is a welcomed one," she commented in surprise, wrapping her arms around him.

"Thank you for always caring about me," he told her before letting go.

"Spencer, in the three years I've known you, you've become a little brother to me. What kind of big sister would I be if I didn't protect my siblings?"

And so, the two turned back to their food, their tummies grumbling at the sight and smell of such a delicious meal after such a long workday.

After taking a few bites, Penelope looked back over at Spencer. "By the way, I still want to know all about her."

"Well, what do you know?"

"I know her whole backstory, but I know you, Spencer Reid. You're gonna cover your ears because you want her to tell you for herself," she commented. "But I wanna know about her from your perspective, not from a tech analyst's perspective."

He smiled as he recalled every detail of Imogen that he could think of. From how beautiful she was to how much she loved books to how she constantly told him about her craving for milkshakes, he simply couldn't decide where to start.

Finally, with furrowed brows and scrunched lips, he decided on, "You know how you and Derek just kind of clicked?"

Penelope nodded intently as she took a sip of her water. She was excited to see where this was going.

"It was like that, but even stronger. From the very first second that she looked at me, I knew she was special. I tried to stop myself from liking her, from getting attached to her… but it was like gravity was forcing us together instead of apart."

The blonde grinned at the amount of love that shone through Spencer's words and his expression. "Are you sure you're not dating her?" she joked, softly nudging Spencer's shoulder.

"No…" his voice trailed off, "but from the second I saw her reading Pride and Prejudice, I wanted to be."

"Spencer, that's amazing. I'm so happy for you."

"No, it's not amazing, Penelope," he pouted. "I can't date a mental hospital patient from Las Vegas. Long distance is probably hard enough as it is, much less if your bipolar girlfriend is stuck in a sanitarium over 2,400 miles away."

Point blank, she asked, "Is it something you both want?"

Spencer thought about her question for a moment. He knew it was something at least he wanted. If he had to be honest, it was becoming something it was getting hard to live without. He wondered, however, if Imogen had wanted the same thing all along. Specifically, he'd wondered if she'd wanted Spencer to be the one that she could come to if she ever made it out of that wretched hospital.

But then, like a siren ringing out inside his head once again, her words played on repeat. Love you, bye. Love you, bye. Love you, bye.

He didn't have to hesitate anymore, because he was sure he knew the answer.

"Yes," he answered confidently, probably the most confident he'd ever been with an answer.

"Then I know you can make it work. Spencer, you're like the king of optimism. Almost as optimistic as me. I know you and Imogen can get through long distance until you can be together for real, because I know that you're the only person in the world who wants to work hard enough to make it possible."

Spencer didn't even have to think about Penelope's words because he knew she was right. No matter how long it would take, Spencer was going to make the best of a bad deal—until he could be with Imogen for as long as the Heavens would allow.

"𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭." - 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐧

THE MAEVE PARALLEL IS BACK

anyway, welcome one and all to the next chapter of SYGB!! as always, special shout out to this week's beta @theghouligan for working her magic because this is so much better now that she helped me clean it up. i am super excited for you guys to keep getting further into the story. i think you guys are gonna love this the more that it goes on.

anyway, enough rambling. i hope you all enjoyed and i'll see you next week! 🫶🏻

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☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆

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