#matthew gray gubler angst

[avis-writeshq]

07 — wildest dreams

summary: “he’s so tall, and handsome as hell”/”his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn warnings: rated 16+ for lots of kissing hehehe, reader wears a dress + makeup, a final ‘eff u!!’ to jeid LOL wc: 3.3k a/n: we have finally reached the end! thank you all so much for your support during this little project 😚💕 massive thank you to @astrophileous for beta-reading this entire project! congratulations again for finishing your thesis!! SERIES MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Spencer yawns softly as he steps out of bed, running his fingers through his unruly hair. He finally got it cut a few days ago and, even though it’s a lot shorter than what he is used to, he really likes it. After putting on his shirt that has fallen haphazardly to the floor the previous night, he walks into the kitchen to fix himself a cup of tea. 

He stirs the sugar with a spoon tiredly, his vision blurry from both the lack of sleep and the lack of glasses. The muscles of his thighs quiver with each step and he grimaces. Maybe he should start working out with Morgan. He dismisses the thought immediately. He still wants to live. 

He’s about to go back into the room when a pair of arms wrap tightly around his middle, and he lets out a breathless laugh. “Hey, angel.”

You grunt out a noncommittal greeting, your forehead resting between his shoulderblades as you continue to hug him. “Why’d you go?”

“I was thirsty,” he responds, turning around to hug you back. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts that you stole and he glows with pride, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “What’re you doing up, darling?”

“You left,” you respond groggily, leaning into his touch. “Got cold.”

Spencer, as you have learned, is essentially a human furnace. He exudes so much warmth both figuratively and literally that you have saved probably hundreds of dollars in electricity bills. He is so unbelievably warm and he always gives the best hugs, wrapping his arms around your frame and tracing circles into your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing the side of your face. “Go back to bed, angel. I’ll be there in a second, okay?”

You merely nod in response, reaching up and planting a firm kiss to his chin before padding back into your room, burying yourself under the covers. He arrives soon after, shuffling closer to you and pulling you in so that your nose is against his sternum. His fingers find the knots in your hair, skillfully and carefully untangling them. He feels you yawn as he continues his ministrations, and he presses yet another kiss to your head.

“You should move in,” you mumble against his chest, creeping a hand up under his shirt and brushing your nails against his spine.

He shudders at the contact, a quiet groan leaving his lips. “Yeah? You think I should move in?”

It is within moments like these where it becomes glaringly obvious that Spencer is no longer the naive ‘kid’ he was when he began working at the BAU. He’s grown into himself now, filling out his dress shirts better and wearing an easy smile on his face. Spencer has always been attractive, all of the girls who loved him before are a testament to that (no matter how bitter you are when coming to this realisation), but he’s now a lot more comfortable with it. He likes to say that you are a big part of that journey. You would simply tell him that the growth was his to make.

“You basically already live here,” you tell him. “It’s close to the train station and there’s that good Thai place across the road.”

“I’d love to move in with you,” he says softly, stroking your cheeks. He’s had an affinity for your cheeks since he first met you, poking at them teasingly and you would do the same in retaliation. Now, he can let his touches linger. “Really. I can get the rest of my things here by the end of the week.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

He smiles. “Exactly.”

You yawn again, your eyes squeezing closed so tightly that an unnecessary tear slips past the corner of your eye. Spencer wipes it away with his thumb before kissing your nose, relishing in the way you let out a breathless laugh. 

“I love you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours.

You beam at him, kissing him softly. “I love you.”

*** 

“And it’s like, if you don’t want to get yelled at, don’t come late to every single shift that you have, y’know?” You complain from your bedroom, pushing your lashes upwards with the side of your finger. You’re leaning over your new white vanity, forgoing the chair, as you try to keep your lashes up. “I mean, I get that this is her first time doing work experience, but come on she isn’t nine. And get this, babe, she doesn’t even have a phone. She’s seventeen years old doing work experience and she doesn’t have a phone. I have to remind her of her shifts through her mother. Do you know how awkward that is?”

Spencer hums as he does up his tie, coming up from behind you and and glancing at you for a moment. “She doesn’t sound like someone who wants to be doing work experience, angel.”

“I swear she’s only doing this because it’s compulsory at her high school,” you lament, turning around to face him. “And she is so rude. You should have heard what she said to Veronica, Walter, it was insane. Like, she swore in front of a client. In front of a child.”

His nose scrunches up at your words, resting his hands on your waist and stroking up and down with his thumbs, feeling your curves through the pretty dress you picked out. “You should fire her.”

“Legally I cannot,” you say with a huff. “But I’m pretty sure she’s going to quit or something. ‘Ronica will let me know, and honestly, good riddance.”

He laughs as he kisses your forehead. “I don’t doubt it, angel.”

You smile at him, no longer disgruntled from your frustrating coworker. “You look really good,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

“You look exquisite,” is his quick response, continuing to stroke up and down along your sides. He kisses you slowly, one hand moving to cup your neck and holding you there. “Is this a new dress?”

“Got it for forty bucks,” you say with a grin. “This boutique was having a sale downtown. Guess how much this used to be.”

He laughs at your enthusiasm, kissing you again. “How much?”

“One hundred and twenty,” you say giddily as you straighten his tie. “That’s a steal, right? So I bought two more dresses the same price. That’s like, two free dresses, y’know? Girl maths.”

Spencer can’t help but smile as you tell him all about your shopping spree, his pointer finger dragging up and down your jaw. He doesn’t have the heart to correct you about the inaccuracies of whatever ‘girl maths’ is, instead choosing to nod along. “Yeah?”

You nod with a silly smile. “Yeah! And I figured that I might as well get JJ and Will’s wedding gift while I was out and I got these super cute wine glasses and–”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his fingers delving into your once neat updo, and his mouth pressing firmly against yours. In seconds he has you sat on the seat of your vanity and he leans down to kiss you harder. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs against your lips, “so pretty.”

“You messed up my hair,” you scold half-heartedly, your fingers grazing against the collar of his shirt. “We’re gonna be late to the wedding.”

“It’s not our wedding,” he breathes, kissing you again and murmuring between them, “they’ll understand.”

You pull away, cheeks hot and lips swollen. “They’ll know.”

“Good.”

“Spencer!”

You arrive at Rossi’s mansion with five minutes to spare, guests already filing through the doors. From the corner of your eye, you spot Aaron and Emily speaking in one of the living rooms while JJ follows an older lady up the stairs holding a white dress in her arms. After placing the wedding gift on the table, you venture out into the garden where the tables are decorated with white lace tablecloths and the chairs have big satin ribbons on the backs of them. Cream and white roses are arranged elegantly on top of the tables and the fairy lights provide an even bigger sense of magic to the scene. 

“The place looks amazing, David,” you praise, beaming at the older man. “Truly, it’s like something out of a fairytale.”

He chuckles as he holds a flute of champagne, gesturing to where Derek stands with Penelope. “I had some help. You’re taking care of yourself?”

“Of course,” you respond, waving to Derek who looks all too pleased to see you again. “It has been a really good couple of years.”

“You and Spencer have been together for, what, two and a half years?” He asks as he looks over to where Spencer is showing magic tricks to Henry. 

“Sounds like a long time, huh?” You ask through a breathless laugh. “It’s been good.”

David smiles proudly at you, patting you on the shoulder. “I’m happy for the two of you. You’re like a daughter to me, you know that.”

“I know,” you respond, grinning. “Thank you.”

“Let me know when the big day happens,” he says with a wink. “It’ll save you from renting a venue.”

You only laugh and shake your head as you move to where Spencer is, ruffling his hair as Henry giggles loudly. Spencer lets out a shout in protest, swatting your hands away lightly before holding them in his own, bringing his lips to the back of it.

“Having fun?” You ask them, grinning at Henry who nods excitedly. 

“Uncle Spencer showed me a magic trick!” He exclaims, clapping his hands together.

“Oh is that right?”

Spencer offers you a sheepish smile, twirling a penny around his fingers. “Do you want to see?”

He doesn’t give you much room to accept or deny the offer, holding the penny in his hands and showing it to both you and Henry. 

“Behold,” he announces, “a normal penny. But this penny can travel through the astrological planes and dimensions. Watch closely.”

He holds the penny up to your face before snapping his fingers and, lo and behold, the penny was out of sight. He shows both his hands, front and back, a boyish smile on his face. Henry claps at the display, squealing and brushing his long hair away from his face. 

“Where’d it go?” Henry asks, pouting. 

Spencer beams at the enthusiasm and holds his hands out again. “Ah, now that is the tricky part. For that, I need an assistant… angel, do you mind?”

He holds you by the waist with left hand, kissing your cheeks before holding his right hand in front of your face. Henry shrieks at the display of affection, covering his eyes exaggeratedly. You laugh out of embarrassment, swatting at Spencer’s arms and rolling your eyes. 

“Stop torturing the poor child,” you scold lightly, wiping away his sloppy kisses. 

“Couldn’t help myself,” he dismisses, before waggling his fingers. “Now, to find that penny…”

He reaches up behind your ear, pinching at something, before revealing the penny in his pinched fingers. He watches as your eyes widen with surprise, his cheeks pinkening in delight. 

“How did you do that?” You ask, grabbing the penny from his hand and turning it over in your fingers. 

“He’s magic,” Henry provides helpfully, clapping his hands. “Just like Auntie Penelope! When I tell her about something, it magically shows up at my house in a big brown box!”

You laugh, not having the heart to inform him that Penelope is not magic; simply very good at spoiling the people she cares about. She has taken you on more than a few shopping sprees in hopes of spoiling her little godson, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the cute clothes and toys in the department stores. Recently, she’s been scouting out jewellery stores, going on and on about how difficult it is to find gifts for people. You had offered a few recommendations of your own, gesturing to the pretty rings and necklaces out on display, but she only dismissed your suggestions. 

“Auntie Penelope is basically a fairy godmother,” you tell Henry in explanation, chuckling. “Like in Cinderella.”

“I love Cinderella,” Henry says, his eyes lighting up. “Uncle Spencer read it to me! He said that the original story is about Ash-poo-tell.”

“Ashputtel,” Spencer explains to you, “the original story.”

“Ah,” you nod in remembrance, recalling the grim details of the story. You ruffle Henry’s hair. “You can hear that story when you’re older.”

The rest of the wedding goes without a hitch. Drinks are handed out by the ushers Rossi hired, along with cute little hors d'oeuvres. The ceremony in itself is perfection; JJ and Will sharing a kiss after saying their vows, and Henry being the ring bearer. Spencer holds your hand the entirety of the celebrations, brushing his thumb up and down the back of your left palm, carefully tracing each knuckle. 

As JJ and Will take to the dance floor, more and more couples join in. Derek and a very drunk Penelope join in with loud giggles, and Beth drags Hotch into the circle by the wrists. Spencer rests his hands on your waist as the two of you stand at the sidelines, watching with amused grins as Penelope trips over her own feet. 

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs into your ear, pulling you closer. “What do you say we get away from the crowd?”

You jump on the opportunity, already picking up your purse. “Who are you and what have you done to Spencer Walter Reid?”

He rolls his eyes at you, shooting a quick message to the team’s group chat to let them know that you were making an early leave. “Very funny.”

“No, no, I’m serious! Do you need to see a doctor? Like, a medical one?” You ask with jest as he opens up the car door for you. 

“Do you want me to change my mind?” He asks, laughing, before getting into the driver’s seat of the car. “I just thought that we could go somewhere. It’s not too late and if we hurry, I think we could catch the sunset.”

You smile innocently as he puts the car into drive, heading off to who knows where. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

“Tell me again,” he prompts, resting his hand on the inside of your thigh as he keeps his eyes on the road. 

“I love you.”

“I love you,” comes his immediate response, squeezing at the flesh of your thighs through your dress. A street sign passes overhead as he drives, reading the word ‘Anacostia’. 

“We’re going to the Bridge Park?” You ask curiously, peering out the window. 

He hums in affirmation. “I heard it’s pretty this time of day. I wanted to take you out somewhere nice, but I don’t know when we’ll have a case next so I figured that this would be the perfect time.”

After parking the car and locking it, Spencer takes your hand as you walk through the park. It’s a very popular area in Anacostia, the entire neighbourhood holding old historic buildings that have been refurbished. 

You relish the feeling of the breeze in your hair, your cheeks turning rosy as the temperature begins to drop. You made it just in time for the sunset as it paints the park in oranges and a soft lavender haze, your skin flushing gold from the lighting. You commit the image to memory as you stare at the view, your dress fluttering around your legs from the wind. 

In your distraction, you miss the way Spencer’s hand drops from yours, and you search through your purse for your phone. You click open the photo app, putting it onto the selfie setting as you turn to him.

“Walter, let’s take a–” 

The words die at your tongue upon the sight before you. Spencer, in his once neat suit and tie and all his germaphobic tendencies kneeling on the cold concrete, holding a velvet ring box in his hand. The box looks comically small in his palms as he looks up at you, his eyes glossed over and a tearful smile on his face. 

“Hi, angel,” he says softly, his voice cracking at the last syllable. 

“What’re you doing?” You ask, even though you know exactly what is going on. Blood rushes to your ears and you sniffle. “Spencer, your pants–”

“I love you,” he says firmly, the box in his hands quivering as his hands shake. His palms are sweaty and he swallows the nerves down his throat. “I love you. I’m not– I’m not good with words or with expressing how I feel but I know one thing for certain: I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He chokes out a quiet laugh as you take a step closer to him, wiping the tears away from his eyes. “I had a speech prepared and everything,” he says, embracing the feel of your warm hands on his cheeks. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur, crouching down so that you are eye level with him. “It’s okay, Walter.”

“No, I–” he swallows the lump in his throat and wets his bottom lip. “Love in the English dictionary covers a multitude of feelings. You can love doing something, or love a specific food, or love an object. In other languages, there are different words for different types of love and I think… I think that they got it right. There are a million untranslatable words that all mean love but I think the one that expresses how I feel about you would be the Chinese phrase ‘yuan fen’. It means that two people were… predestined to be together and I think– I know that we were meant to be.”

He sucks in a breath after his rant, smiling up at you. “Will you marry me?”

Tears slip from your eyes as you nod, pulling him up from the cold musty ground. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Spencer exhales, his arms looping around your waist. His nose burrows into the side of your neck and you can feel the hot tears against your skin.

“Thank God,” he breathes, moving his head to kiss your cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you respond, hugging him tight. “Was there ever any doubt?”

He laughs a little, shaking his head as he fumbles with the velvet box, slipping the ring onto your left ring finger. “No. Never.”

Spencer brushes a strand of your hair away from your face before kissing you slowly, the light from the sun finally going down. As you pull away, the speakers overhead come to life with the announcer clearing his throat.

“Unfortunately, due to the predicted rain that will be coming shortly, the fireworks show will be rescheduled. We apologise for this inconvenience.”

You peer up at Spencer curiously who looked more than disappointed. “Fireworks show?”

“That was the plan,” he says with a small frown. “I’m sorry, angel.”

There’s a crash of thunder and before you know it, small droplets of water begin to fall from the sky. Spencer immediately covers your head with his jacket, pulling you over to the car. 

“Wait, wait–” you laugh, resisting his efforts. “Walter, wait!”

“I’m not letting you get sick,” he scolds lightly, his curls sticking to his forehead from the rain. 

You laugh again, stepping closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Well, we don’t have a pool but… rain works too, right?”

“You’re insane,” he says, his forehead pressed against yours. “You’re crazy.”

A teasing grin makes its way onto your face as you waggle your fingers in front of him. “Yeah, well, you’re marrying crazy.”

“No regrets,” he responds, before pressing his lips to yours. 

In that moment, as he kisses you on the sidewalk in the pouring rain, you could have sworn that you felt sparks fly.

← previous part || series masterlist → || bonus !!

Thank you everyone once again for your support through this project! I have had so much fun writing it and I am so grateful for all the traction and love that it has received! With the help of this project, we have reached 2.1k followers! To celebrate, I have opened requests and you can find the event page here <3 thank you all once again and until next time !!

reblogs are always appreciated!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader fluff #criminal minds x reader angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader fluff #matthew gray gubler x reader angst #taylor swift #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler angst #mgg x reader fluff #mgg x reader angst

[arkhamknightz]

CLOSURE

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary; in which, spencer tries to fix his mistakes

warnings: angst, happy ending, fluff, as you can tell by both titles inspired by taylor’s evermore album!

notes: part 2 to tolerate it ! i’m really glad people actually enjoyed tolerate it, for anyone who asked for a part 2 or hoped for one this is for you! :) with help from @adhdannieedison !

A month had passed since that fight with Spencer. The letters had started a week and a half ago. First it started off with flowers at your door, a small note attached. “I’m sorry. I still think about you everyday.” You had been rotating through the clothes you had brought in your suitcase, as well as buying new ones.

You couldn’t go back to that apartment. You were staying with a friend, how Spencer got the address isn’t very surprising (thanks to Penelope) but he had started sending letters along with small gifts to the door every other day.

You regretted the fight with Spencer, well, regret isn’t the right word. You meant everything you said, although it wasn’t a secret your frustration got the best of you. Could you have dealt with that better? Yes, absolutely. But his handwriting of each letter of his name only brought an ache to your chest.

It wasn’t right, the way it all went down. He knows that, you know that. You could sense the hesitation in the letters you had received. You could practically feel the nerves radiating off the page, intertwined with the ink.

You were doing better, although you couldn’t bring yourself to write back. You’re sure he knew you were receiving the gifts. Otherwise he would’ve stopped sending them. It cut deep to know him as well as you did. With each letter on the page you could vision him writing them.

He would be sat at his desk at home, knowing he couldn’t bring himself to write them at work. If you inspected the page close enough, you could see very faint droplets. You knew Spencer well enough that he would try his best not to ruin the page, although it seemed like some days he never noticed they were there. His tears somewhat marked on the page.

You knew it was probably over. Maybe it was anger, maybe it was sadness masked as such. But you didn’t need his closure. You didn’t need to know what was running through his head the days he started ignoring you out of fear of what it could’ve been.

The way he looked at you that night, the way he spoke when he told you to stop talking. He spoke like you were some situation that needed to be handled. The way you imagined he would speak at work. You were fine with the spite bubbling in your chest. You were perfectly fine for the first week in the spare room, candles lit as tears rolled down your face with a drink in your hand.

Every time you closed your eyes you could feel his presence. You could feel the longing of his hand on your shoulder, soft kisses on your forehead and whispers of reassurance. It hurt to know him the way you did. It hurt knowing he threw something away so easily after building it for years.

You heard a knock on the door, your friend was out at work and you were sat on the couch filling out a form for work. Knowing what it was, you got up off the couch, setting your computer aside and walked over. You opened the door and there on the mat sat another envelope addressed to you, a small box from your favorite bakery sat under it.

You sighed and picked it up before closing the door and locking it, sitting back down before setting both of them on your lap. You looked into the box and softly smiled, your favorite dessert carefully placed into the box. You opened up the letter and pulled out the paper.

“I know I messed up. I can’t express that enough. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry its taken me so long to properly address it. If i’m being quite honest I don’t know why I did the things I did. More of the matter why I stopped doing certain things. All I know is I miss the way you curled up into me in our shared bed. I haven’t been able to sleep there in the last month. I’m afraid if I sleep in our bed the scent of you would fade away.

I’m sorry for throwing what we had away so easily. I don’t know what caused me to act the way I did, or what caused me to lash out at you when you were only frustrated for all the right reasons. The team was right. It was never about work, but it also wasn’t about you. I can’t pinpoint what caused my behavior but all I know is I’m sorry. And I’ll spend every moment I can trying to show you that I mean that.

This might be a push, but it doesn’t hurt to try. Please, come home soon. I want to work this through. I want to be better for you. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t when I still had you with me. If you do decide to come home one day by some miracle, I’ll be waiting. I’d wait forever if I had to. I really hope you’re doing okay. I’m sorry for the damage I caused, theres not a single day that goes by where I don’t regret what I must’ve put you through.

Yours always, Spencer. x”

You sighed and wiped away the tear that had fell from your eye. You set the letter back into the envelope and put it on the coffee table in front of you. You had gotten a majority of your work done since that night, emotions fueling you to write your papers and get as much work done as you could.

You started going on runs in the park, music playing through your ears as you circled around the area. You really were doing better, the flood of any pain and love you had pushing you to grow and rediscover yourself. You didn’t need his closure, you were just a wrinkle in his life. His guilt was probably what caused him to reach out, but you didn’t need some fake insincere apology from him.

He was apologizing for himself, so he wouldn’t have to live with that guilt. Right? If he really felt bad he would’ve reached out to you sooner. Right? You found yourself making excuses for him again, anger starting to creep its way into your stomach. You loved him, you knew he cared about you. But all you could do was formulate bad intentions in your head.

By the time you ran into Spencer, you were out with your friend at a bar 3 weeks later. You didn’t expect to see him there, nor his entire team. You locked eyes with him from across the room, a tightening ache in your heart as you saw the distinct bags under his eyes, drink in his hand. You knew Spencer wasn’t fond of drinking. Although he did it every so often, he barely ever let himself get as drunk as he looked.

It hurt that you could see his tired features from so far away. Guilt started to slowly rise in your chest before you turned around and downed your drink. “Woah slow down there. What’s up?” You looked over at your friend. “He’s here. With his entire team.” Her eyes widened and she turned around to look around the bar, low and behold there she saw Spencer sitting at a table with a group of people.

“Do not turn around he’s walking- okay well stumbling this way.” You shut your eyes tightly as you heard him call out your name. You looked over at your friend who smiled in sympathy and walked away to go get a new drink. Your breath hitched as he stopped on the other side of you. “Hey.”

You could hear the crack of his voice, you missed the way he spoke to you at night, both of you laying in bed while you whispered sweet nothings to each-other. You turned around and smiled sadly. “Hey Spence” you saw him tear up at the nickname and you quickly panicked. “Hey hey, don’t cry please don’t cry.” He sniffled. “I missed you. I’m so so sorry.” A tear rolled down his cheek, your facial expression now mirroring his.

You could feel any anger you had towards him bubble away as you pulled him into a hug, his body shook against yours as he settled his head into your neck. Cracks in his voice muffled by your hair as he spoke. “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. I fucked up so so badly. I’ve missed you so much I’m sorry I know you hate m-“ you quickly cut him off. “I’m still upset yes but I don’t hate you.”

You pulled away looking at him, his eyes red and puffy brimmed with tears. “I could never hate you.” You reached up to wipe away his tears, thumb brushing against his cheek which only made him cry harder. Normally, you probably would feel embarrassed, you were both crying in the middle of the bar, but all you could focus on was him.

“I’m gonna take you home okay? We can talk about this tomorrow. You need to sleep.” He nodded, knowing it would be pointless to argue. You looked over at his team, who all looked away quickly, their eyes darting around the room pretending they weren’t watching. You softly chuckled and made eye contact with Derek before mouthing you were gonna take him home.

He nodded and you locked hands with Spencer before letting your friend know you were taking him home. She nodded and told you to stay safe before you walked out. Spencer looked like a kicked puppy, eyes red with tears while he looked down, sniffles coming from him.

You waved down a taxi before getting him inside, sitting beside him. You gave them the address to your old apartment and you sat in silence. The only noise coming from the radio, the streets and his small sniffles. After being dropped off, you reached out and he gave you his keys, you opened the door and your heart broke at the state of the apartment. Books were thrown out onto the floor, the kitchen seemingly untouched, you took a look at the couch and saw a thin blanket sprawled out, pillow thrown onto the floor.

You sighed and looked at Spencer who was already looking at you, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry the place is a mess.” You let out a small laugh, wiping away his tears. “It’s okay. Let’s get you to bed yeah?” He nodded and walked through the apartment with you. You cleaned up while he got changed in your bedroom, putting away the books and folding up the blanket on the couch.

You grabbed his pillow and walked into your room. Spencer was staring at your side of the bed and you placed his pillow back in its spot and sat on the edge of the bed. He took the hint and sat right next to you. You looked down and picked at your nails, his hand grasping yours to stop you. “Don’t do that.” He held your hand and now you were the one crying.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, as if speaking any louder would break you. “I know.” You both sat in silence for a little, small sniffles echoing throughout the room. “You should get some sleep Spencer.” He nodded and you got up, allowing him to lay down. You walked into the closet and changed into comfier clothes before walking into the bathroom and washing your face.

You came back out and laid next to him. His arm wrapping around your waist like it used to. You missed the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, fitting like a missing puzzle piece. You were doing fine without him. But you knew what was missing. You knew you wouldn’t be able to live the rest of your life the same without him there. His arms felt like home, his kisses like rays of sunshine hitting your face, his hugs like being enveloped by a warm blanket.

You hadn’t been able to sleep well, missing the way you felt safe while you were asleep with him. Now whenever you slept you kept a small light on, but it hardly even came close to fulfilling the security you longed for. You smiled softly as he quickly fell asleep, his arms unconsciously starting to tighten around you.

The next morning you woke up before Spencer. You got up and walked into the kitchen to get him a glass of water and some painkillers. You knew he hated taking them, preferring to push through it. But after last night you knew he would need it. You heard quick shuffling and your bedroom door swing open, you turned around and he had tears in his eyes, before he finally settled on your figure left in the kitchen.

This only seemed to make it worse. He let out a choked sob as you looked at him. “Hope I’m not overstaying my welcome.” You joked, he cracked a smile and shook his head. “Never.” You handed him the cup of water and he drank it, taking the small pill reluctantly.

After a few minutes you both sat on the couch. You had been dreading this conversation since you saw him at the bar last night. “I know I’ve said sorry, but I want to prove that to you. I want to show you I mean it wholeheartedly. Pushing you away the way that I did was inexcusable. So I’m not gonna try to come up with one. But I know it’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life. And I know you deserve better than someone who could do something like that to you.”

You nodded. “I know I deserved better.” His eyes looked into his lap, his hands fiddling with each-other. “But I didn’t want better. I wanted you Spencer. I knew the difficulty of your job, I knew the relationship wouldn’t be perfect all the time. That I was perfectly okay with. What I didn’t appreciate was you pushing me away, the comments you had started making at me, the way you told me to stop talking when I was angry like I had no right to be.”

He nodded in understanding as you continued, “I’ve never loved someone the way I love you Spencer. So it hurt when you pushed me away and made no effort to show you cared in the slightest. I was trying my best and it seemed like it wasn’t enough for you. So I walked away because I knew I wasn’t gonna let myself go through that.” He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry, I know saying that over and over doesn’t do anything if I don’t prove myself that I mean it. I want to be better this time. And I know that’s gonna take a lot and that’s something I’m more than willing to do. If I have to wait a year for you to fully forgive me I will in a heartbeat. Please. Just let me show you I’ve changed? That I want this to work?”

You nodded and he smiled softly before silently asking to hug you. You pulled him in and you sat in his arms, basking in the warmth and the way he pulled you closer to his chest if that was even humanly possible. You were doing fine without him. But you knew you would never be complete with him beside you.

note: HI i hope this ending is satisfying for everyone. i know i seemingly rushed through this but ideas were flowing! my requests are open for anyone who wants to send in some things, i mostly write song fics, since i find them easiest and can produce them the quickest. but im open to all requests! i have a list of people i write for in my pinned, so please don’t be afraid to send something in! :)

tag list; @sebastiansstanswhore @deadunicorn159 @adhdannieedison

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid taylor swift #spencer reid angst #spencer reid angst fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x fanfiction #matthew gray gubler #matthew grey gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler angst #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid songfic #spencer reid taylor songfic

[mggsv]

Little Gub

f!reader x mgg (angst)

summary: it’s been years…a very long time. her hair was fluffy just like his- her smile a carbon copy. her dark hair, eyes and tan skin were all traits of her mother, but you could still see him in her as they laughed together, Matthew..

warnings: mentions of miscarriages and sex

“Well which one does the princess want?” you hear a male voice on the verge of laughter.

“That one- that Barbie comes with a car like the one i have!” came a little girl’s voice afterwards, in which the male voice laughed. “Of course you can Little Gub.”

You knew that voice- all too well. It’s a voice you wish you’d forgotten. One that you didn’t want to think about, yet it replays in your head everyday.

You close your eyes tightly, counting softly to 5. You were scared, knowing that if you opened your eyes he’d be there, and with her. His little angel..his pride and joy. His daughter. She was all grown up now- she was turning 6 soon. You’d never forget when he told you- how excited he was when she got pregnant..when she had her. How you were his first phone call when she went into labor..how after that day you never talked to Matthew again.

Your eyes welled up with tears, but you didn’t want to cry, let alone go into a full on panic attack in the mall. You were shopping for art supplies. You owned a shop nearby- business is good..you’re good, or so you told yourself. Tucking your head into the bags of yarn in your hand you walked pass them as fast as you could. Your heart raced, the tears fell.

“no no- don’t do this to me now..” you whispered to yourself. Only a few steps left, you told yourself. Only a few more steps until you could breathe the fresh morning air and get into your car and forget it ever happened. Only a few..

“Ow!” you snapped back into reality, looking down at her..and one of your bags that laid by her feet.

“oh-! I’m sorry- I’m so sorry.” you scrambled for the bag, cursing yourself in your head. “I’m very sorry..”

“Y/N?” You hear his voice- he said your name. You haven’t heard it fall from his lips in years.

“I’m very sorry-“

“Y/N- it’s okay, it’s alright she’s just dramatic.” In which the girl sticks out her tongue. You gather your bag together and apologize again.

“It’s been a long time, we should hang out! Matter of fact- Little Gub’s birthday is tomorrow, how about you come?” You shake your head,

“I’m sorry- I can’t.” Your hands were shaking as you brushed past him, shoulder bumping his arm..it makes you suck in a shuddering breath as you bolted for the doors to freedom.

The trip to your car felt like a lifetime. Once you were in you turned on the ac, not even bothering to put in your seatbelt. Once you could finally..finally sit back, you cried. You let the last seven years out- hell, you screamed even. you can still hear it..the words leaving your mouth that day- that day that it got worse.

“..another miscarriage.” you had muttered to Matthew. You swallowed down the tears and smiled. “It’s okay though- we can try again, there’s nothing wrong with trying again.” You began to walk away to the front desk when he grabbed you from behind, his head leaning into your neck.

“I’m sorry-“

“It’s not you Matthew, the doctor said nothing’s wrong on your end..it’s me, but we can try again..” He didn’t miss the way your shoulder’s shook as you held back the flow of tears. You didn’t want to cry. You cried the first two times..by three you decided that doubting having a baby won’t allow you to have one- and now with four, it was the hardest thing ever. What hurt you the most was Matthew blaming himself for your misfortune. The doctor told you both it was impossible because of your infertility.

“I love you.” He whispered afterwards…

Over the course of six months after that you didn’t ignore how sad Matthew looked- how disappointed he’d be when the pregnancy tests came back negative, or when you bled within your first week of carrying what could be your child. It was eating him alive, and you couldn’t handle it.

You stopped having sex. You couldn’t even look at him without wanting to break down. You found yourself apologizing to him when he held you in bed..you cried together.

You ended things. You couldn’t help but smile when you did so..you didn’t want to cry, but you didn’t want to lose him either. It was only months later he met her…she was beautiful the first time he’d talked to you on the phone about it. You stayed up for hours listening to his ranting. It was like you were best friends again, before you caught feelings for one another..

They got together shortly afterwards, and again he told you all about it. How happy he sounded..

She became pregnant the following year.

You didn’t miss the excitement in his voice as he talked to you on the phone. He was on speaker, you only stared at the phone through the tears that raced down your cheeks.

And then she had her..his Little Gub he called her, Clementine Marilyn Gubler. He called you before she went into labor, you didn’t pick up a phone call after that day. You read his texts to you- her name, how big she was- he told you everything.

He was finally happy..it’s what you wanted, something good for him. And you…You’d be okay. Therapy was nice for a while, the meds worked wonders. You didn’t like being sober enough to think about them..the happy family Matthew had that wasn’t yours.

You moved on…you found your shop, it was your home your everything. But you knew..something was missing, something you’d never get back.

A knock on your window made you jump. You look over, Matthew’s face smiling sadly at you. He looked over the tear stains on your cheeks, Clementine in his arms. You let down the window as he slides a piece of paper to you, an invitation. It was pink with Barbie on it.

“My number’s on the back, give me a call okay? I’d like to talk again, Y/N..”

He gives you a head nod as he pulls back. You roll up the window and watch as he walks away.. he wasn’t parked far. You can see him kiss her head before putting her in the backseat of the car.

He stared at her for a minute…and then there was a smile. You watch Matthew get into his car, but you were already gone by the time he drove away.

You could help glancing at the pink invitation in your lap, knowing you wouldn’t be showing up

#mgg #mgg x reader #gender neutral reader #f reader #matthew gray gubler angst #angst #female reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #pregnancy #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader

[wrenreid]

Just Acting (MGG)

series masterlist | ongoing

series content warnings: 7ish year age gap, “enemies” to lovers, NSFW 18+

disclaimer: i started writing this in 2020 before rumors were said abt mgg and before we knew there was going to be a reboot. so this takes place in an imaginary season 16 and has nothing to do with the reboot. since it was written when i was a little younger, the writing can be a bit eh imo. also there are descriptions of y/n, and definitely feel free to ignore them

————

MGG x fem reader

Y/n has been on Criminal Minds for almost two seasons now. She loves her job, but there’s one problem: she cannot stand her coworker, Matthew Gray Gubler. When their characters on the show start to develop a romantic bond, their not-so-friendly relationship starts changing.

When Y/n finds out she is going to be a part of season 16 and get more screen time, she is excited and ready to get to work. She just hopes Matthew won't get in the way.

When Spencer Reid and her character, Delilah Reign grow closer together, Y/n is forced to spend more time with the coworker she’d rather avoid.

Chapter One | After getting the great news that she will be a returning character on Criminal Minds season 16, Y/n is excited about the amazing opportunity. However, she is annoyed by her ever-present coworker.

Chapter Two | Y/n and Matthew have a few more interactions while on set. She gets invited to a cast dinner.

Chapter Three | Y/n meets up with her friend and visits her favorite library.

Chapter Four | She attends the cast dinner and gets to know them more, and they get to know her better too.

Chapter Five | Y/n goes to set and films a scene with Matthew.

Chapter Six | Y/n learns she has to film a kissing scene with Matthew. Spencer and Delilah hang out more and get to know each other better.

Chapter Seven | It’s date night with Y/n and Jordan.

Chapter Eight | The relationship between Natthew and Y/n is as bitter as always, while Delilah and Spencer take the next step in their own relationship.

Chapter Nine | Spencer shows his romantic side, and Y/n‘a newfound romantic life seems off.

Chapter Ten | The cast goes on their lake house vacation. Matthew and Y/n decide they can bond as Spencer and Delilah for the sake of the show.

Chapter Eleven | Everyone is enjoying their relaxing time at Joe’s lake house. Y/n’s enjoyment takes a hit as the progress between her and Matthew seems to be taken back.

Chapter Twelve | After a rough few days, the deal Matthew and Y/n made to bond for the show comes back to bite her in the ass.

Chapter Thirteen | The lake trip comes to and end, and Y/n is back to filming.

Chapter Fourteen | Y/n’s “date” with Matthew, as Delilah and Spencer, goes a lot better than expected.

Chapter Fifteen | The friendliness and “friendliness” between MGG and Y/n comes to an end after a fight.

Chapter Sixteen | After resolving things between them, Matthew and Y/n decide to DTR.

Chapter Seventeen | The holidays are approaching, and the cast is preparing to take a much needed break from filming. Y/n is thrown into the hollywood life when her face is on an article with Matthew’s.

Chapter Eighteen | Y/n’s first interview for Criminal Minds goes smoothly, then she’s on a flight back home for the holidays.

Chapter Nineteen | After an argument with Matthew and a talk with her sister, Y/n decides to set up a date with an old friend.

Chapter Twenty | A few days after the holiday, Y/n goes on that date with someone from her past. She finds herself in trouble, but Matthew helps her get out of it.

Chapter Twenty-One | It takes a New Year’s Eve party for the two to finally admit the truth about their dynamic.

Chapter Twenty-Two | An unsettling event throws Delilah into the world of the BAU once again.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg x you #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #mgg angst #mgg fic #spencer reid and reader #mgg x y/n #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler angst #mgg x reader #dilf spencerreid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x fanfiction #mgg fem!reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x you

[blushingbucky]

even my phone (misses your call) | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

word count: 339 (she is SHORT i know)

summary: both man and technology forever waiting for your call.

warnings: allusions to sex, pure angst with a mysterious ending

author’s note: in honour of harry’s house (and the beautiful album she is), we have a spencer drabble !! this was inspired by harry styles’s ‘from the dining table’, providing lyrics and the title of this fic. send your requests straight into my inbox if you want to see more :)

Woke up alone in this hotel room

Played with myself, where were you?

Spencer wakes to a lonely bed and lonely soul.

The phone buzzes on the bedside table and he reaches for it almost desperately, fingers closing around the metal and voice answering with an embarrassingly breathy, “Hello?”

JJ’s voice comes through the line and his sleep-muddled mind mistakes it for yours, just for a second. Just for a blissful second, before he registers her urgency and throws off the sheets with a sinking feeling that can only mean disappointment.

—

Woke up the girl who looked just like you

I almost said your name

When you’ve gotten used to sleeping alone, your brain is confused when you wake up next to a girl resembling your ex-lover. That’s exactly what happens when Spencer wakes to a warm bed, body gently breathing beside him.

He’s not alone, not in the sense that he has no one, but he is lonely. Lonely in the sense that every day, his phone boasts no missed call from you. Lonely in that his eyes mistake her hair for yours, his nose mistakes her perfume for yours, his ears trick his brain into believing her breaths are your snores.

Your name escapes Spencer’s lips before his mind catches up to his mouth.

She doesn’t stir, and he runs a hand over his tired eyes. His phone rings, the sharp trill cutting through the silence of the dawn, and he doesn’t bother pretending it’s you. Instead, he turns away from the girl who warmed his bed for the night and answers Hotch’s call.

Maybe one day you’ll call him, and say you made a mistake. Say you think of him every day, dream of him every night.

But until then, his phone remains full of calls from everyone but the one he still loves. Both man and technology forever waiting for your call.

—

Maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too

“Hello?”

“Spencer? It’s me. I’m… sorry. For everything.”

“y/n?”

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid drabble #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler drabble #spencer reid angst #matthew gray gubler angst #criminal minds #criminal minds drabble #jennifer jareau

[bunnylovesani]

A Marriage Story

Summary: You met your husband Spencer at college and fell in love at first sight. A decade later, he’s struggling to be the man you need after spending months away in prison. Can you find your way back to each other even when outside influences want to keep you apart?

Content warnings: smut, fluff and angst all rolled into one, rough sex, oral sex, degradation, sub/dom dynamics, references to infidelity and divorce

WC: 10.7k

“Can’t sleep?” You peered into the living room to see your husband slouched across the sofa, sporting a stiff, groggy expression as he examined what looked to be a pine-green leatherbound book.

“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it?” He mumbled in response, barely looking up. Spencer was snarky by nature- it was something you’d grown accustomed to and even found endearing- but you were woefully unprepared for just how much would change following his stint in prison. 

“You can barely read in here, it’s so dark.” You grumbled as you stretched to turn on an orange light posted in the corner. Your fingertips brushed past the bobbly canvas of the lampshade as you recalled how the appliance was a wedding gift. You weren’t exactly sure who bestowed it to you but the memory made you a little misty-eyed. 

“And you don’t have your glasses either.” You muttered under your breath as you readily paced to your bedroom down the hall to retrieve his black-rimmed specs. “Here you go.” You extended your arm out, waiting for him to take them out of your grasp but he paid no notice. 

“Spence.” You nudged him but he just shook his head wordlessly and retreated into his pages even more, squinting profusely. Perching beside him, you tucked his unruly waves out of his face and nestled them behind his ear before carefully sliding on his glasses, letting them rest on the delicate bridge of his nose. 

“Thanks.” He whispered after a while and you tried your best not to sigh at the state of your husband. His under eyes throbbed purple, the darkness consuming them in a veiny, crescent spill. There was no avoiding the way Spencer’s eyes had gradually dullened, as if the light had drained from them entirely. 

“It’s 3 in the morning, my love. Clearly that stiff sofa isn’t doing you any favours, why don’t you try sleeping in our bed tonight?” You hummed, nervously pawing at his forearm in anticipation of his answer. 

“Not tonight.” He dismissed, shaking off your hand as he recoiled from you. 

“You always said that sleeping with me put your mind to rest. Let me scoop you up into my arms and I’ll bet those nightmares will ease right up.” You nuzzled into him playfully, badly craving that now unfamiliar warmth. It had been 3 months since Spencer returned home from jail and another 3 since you’d even slept in the same room. 

“That was back then.” He replied coldly, swallowing a lump in his throat before finally looking up to meet your gaze. “The sofa is just fine now.” 

“So you plan on spending the rest of our marriage sleeping in here, do you?” You laughed in disbelief, overwhelmed by the incredible misfortune that had struck your husband- and by cursed extension, you.

“I didn’t say that.” He ripped off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with tired frustration. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“I have been more than understanding.” You observed the broken man hunched over before you with both pity and unbridled anger. “But my lenience has a limit. At some point, you have to get over it.”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through.” He snapped back, almost interrupting. 

“Because you won’t tell me.” You countered, blood pressure rising over his incredulous obstinance. “How am I supposed to help you if you don’t let me?”

“I don’t need your help.” He scoffed, shuffling back as if the slightest contact with you made his skin crawl. 

“I am your wife.” You uttered solemnly, the words beginning to sound foreign to you both. “Or have you forgotten?”

“How could I? You never leave me alone.” He stated carelessly with such absurd cruelty that it made your heart split in two. 

“Who are you? I don’t even recognise you anymore.” Your voice trembled as tears swelled and you willed yourself not to fall apart entirely right then and there. 

“I don’t recognise myself either.” He murmured inaudibly.

Awkwardly plumping the pillows you had flattened as you rose, you straightened out your cotton nightie and headed towards the solitary bedroom, leaving Spencer glaring shamefully at the floor. 

“Do you remember our wedding day?” You whispered into the doorway, unsure whether he would even hear. 

“Of course I do.” He sighed heavily, as if the memory hurt him and he wasn’t too grateful for the reminder. 

Realising that those were the only words you’d be able to coax out of him tonight, you proceeded down the corridor and slumped into bed defeatedly. The right side of the bed was always kept empty, partly out of habit and partly out of hope that he might, by some miracle, change his mind one of these nights and join you. A particular quote that your husband once read aloud from a Nietzsche book sprang to mind: “In reality, hope is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torments of man.” He had laughed it off as the words left his perfect lips, dismissing the mournful proclamation as pessimistic melodrama- but now you wondered whether the boy genius had, for once, been wrong. Clutching a rumpled old pillow close to your chest, you thought back to better days as your melancholy lulled you to sleep. 

“Spencer, you’re so annoying.” You playfully slapped his forearm once you caught sight of the little drawings he was leaving in your notebook. “This journal is for my notes, not your mediocre art. Is that one meant to be me?” You pointed at the silly stickman with long hair and a speech bubble declaring ‘I love Spencer’. 

“Well you’re obviously not the ruggedly handsome one.” He gestured at the nerdy-looking bespectacled caricature of himself. It was evident he didn’t have the highest self regard but you couldn’t figure out why- to you, there was no one more perfect. “Do you write about me in your little diary?” He glided the pages out of your reach and began flicking through their contents with a sneer. Knowing exactly what he would find, you allowed him to skim through your written confession as you witnessed his expression soften. 

“I met a guy today in my criminology class.” He muttered, reading an early entry aloud. “I hardly know anything about him, but I’m already certain I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Is that crazy? To love a complete stranger? I think I would let him drive me into the furthest depths of insanity if it meant I could hold onto a piece of him forever.” 

You blushed hearing your own words spilling from his lips, recalling the day you met on your first day of college. 

“Wait.” Spencer put your notebook down before frantically rummaging through his backpack to retrieve his own. Yanking out a pine-green leatherbound journal, he flitted through its pages before turning it around and sliding it across the library desk. “Read this here.” He tapped a passage located right around the middle with an impatient forefinger. 

“Okay…” You drawled hesitantly, sliding your textbooks out of the way to focus on the script put before you. “I met a girl today. That doesn’t really happen to me. Liking aforementioned girl is even more of a rarity but today, I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning. There I was, my nose deep in a second edition tome of Fundamentals of Research in Criminal Justice when someone who could only be described as a blinding ray of sunshine bounded into the lecture hall. When she took a seat in the back row beside me and made a deliciously snide comment over Garland’s incompetency in examining the Lombrosian Project, I knew I was a goner. Note to self: do further research on what it means to be ‘in love’.” 

“Yours was a little more romantic.” He chuckled, observing the incredulous look on your face. 

“Spence…” You shook your head as you grabbed his hand and tried unsuccessfully to convey the complexity of your feelings. “I- I don’t know what to say.” 

“I love you.” He said simply, like he had many times before but you never grew tired of hearing it. 

“I love you too.” You grinned, resisting the urge to kiss him and give surrounding students in the stuffy library a show. 

“Can I ask you something crazy? But promise not to think about it too much.” He chewed on his bottom lip with an almost crazed look in his eyes. 

“You can’t surprise me anymore.” You nodded, giggling. 

“Do you want to get married?” The question made you break out into a flurry of goosebumps, contradicting your last sentence entirely. 

“W-what?” You raised your eyebrows, listening intently for a sign that he was just teasing. 

“Right now. Lets go somewhere and get married.” You scanned his handsome face in shock as you realised he was being serious. 

“B-but we’re only 22. We’re so young.” 

“Yes, we are.” He calmly responded, allowing you to run through all your doubts.

“A-and we still haven’t graduated.” 

“No, we haven’t.” He shook his head.

“And oh, our parents would be so mad!”

“They very well might be. Marry me anyway.” He flashed a broad, toothy smile and the way it made your heart stop gave you the only indication you needed. 

“Okay.” You smiled. 

“Okay?!” He repeated in surprise.

“Okay. I’ll marry you.” 

Spencer shot out of his seat, lifting you up with him as he grabbed you by the face, planting excitable kisses over your lips and cheeks. 

“Don’t we need to make appointments for this kind of thing?” You squeaked out between kisses, the logistical cogs in your mind whirring. 

“Well, baby.” He paused, gazing into your eyes with a mischevious twinkle. “It’s a good thing we live in Vegas.” 

Grabbing each other’s hand with a fervour you thought would last forever, you headed straight to a walk-in chapel, where along with two drunken witnesses you dragged off the street and a pair of vending machine wedding bands, you officiated your love. The haughtily dressed minister, who resembled a cowboy more than a government official thanks to his white, studded getup- took several takes before agreeing to ordain the ceremony. “Crazy kids…” he muttered under his breath when you managed to persuade him, ushering you down the altar with a disapproving sigh.

Spencer marvelled at how you could look so beautiful in a cheap, rented veil and he vowed that day that he would never dare take you for granted. He would make damn sure to remember just how blessed he was, no matter what life threw at him. 

He remained true to his word for the most part, proceeding to spend the next decade or so faithfully by your side. As in most areas of his life, Spencer excelled at being a husband. After his first substantial promotion, he knew exactly what to spend all his savings on: he made a beeline to Tiffany’s for a long overdue engagement ring, surprising you with the small robin’s-egg-blue box on a random Tuesday night. You loved it, of course, and gushed over the lavish diamond, proudly flashing it to anyone who would let you- though you kept your tarnished old band on your bedside table and observed it with nostalgic fondness. 

Every promise Spencer made, Spencer kept. From the silly details down to the crux of your marriage, he was unfalteringly respectful, supportive and always appreciative. 

You certainly weren’t too shabby playing the part of his wife either. Dinner was always on the table, the house was always spick and span and you had no shortage of tight outfits to greet him home dressed up in. You hadn’t ever anticipated your role in life would be that of a housewife but Spencer made it easy- and if you had to be one, a loving, handsome genius was the man for the job. You figured you could do worse.

When the company you worked for years ago filed for bankruptcy and you were too burnt out to look elsewhere, your husband was more than happy to assume his new position as the breadwinner. 

While the thought of relying on a man used to inundate you with horror, this particular man was like something out of a movie- for him, you made every exception, choosing a life of domestic bliss in suburbia over the dreams you once had. You weren’t the most fulfilled woman in the world but you’d never had serious concerns- until this year. It wasn’t Spencer’s habit of overprioritising work, nor his stretch in prison- it wasn’t even the thousand yard stare that painted his face at all hours of the day following his release. 

It was the arrival of the sudden and unprecedented thought that he might actually leave you. 

As many fights as you’d had over the years, the possibility that Spencer may not be the man you spend the rest of your life with had never once crossed your mind- you had it ticked off as a definite and planned your life accordingly around that simple fact. You thought you had agreed that nothing could ever tear you apart. 

But now; the way he recoiled when you came near him and the disdain that dripped from his voice when he spoke to you had you reconsidering whether the man you knew would ever make a return. 

It was your biggest fear and everything your mother had warned you about; her nauseating words gnawed at you as you remembered how staunchly she opposed your impromptu decision to get married. She never really accepted Spencer- choosing instead to graciously tolerate him as a favour to you, but neither of you were under any illusions as to what her real thoughts on the matter were. 

“There you are, I was beginning to think you stood me up.” The lofty voice of your mother rang out and the air sharply shifted around her. 

“Sorry, mother. I- uh, woke up a little late. Got caught in the midday traffic.” You sniffled, trying your utmost to be subtle over the fact you’d spent all morning weeping pathetically in bed.

“Yes, I suppose that’s something you can afford being unemployed and childless.” She scoffed, suspiciously eyeing up your puffy face. “Though I suspect traffic isn’t to blame on this particular occasion.” 

“Of course it is.” You dismissed, taking a seat before her at the garden restaurant you had agreed to meet for lunch in. It was a little too snooty for your taste, but then so was she. 

Burying your face in the menu before she had the chance to inspect your somewhat ragged appearance further, you tried to ignore her heavy sighing. 

“I worry about you, you know.” She lowered your menu with a pristinely manicured finger. 

“Oh trust me, I know.” You rolled your eyes and snatched the menu back, eyeing up the scandalously named cocktails and wondering how many you could get away with ordering. 

“I’m being serious. Your whole life revolves around him. And he’s a mess. You know what that makes you?” She reached into her handbag and fished for a compact mirror.

“Please, enlighten me.” You groaned as she checked her mauve lipstick. 

“A mess by extension.” She haughtily added, snapping the mirror closed with a snappy click. “And it’s my job as your mother to set you straight.”

“Lucky me.” You muttered, disinterested. 

“Listen to me, young lady. I don’t care how old you get or how much you think you know, I know better. You need to come back down to Earth and realise that your marriage is failing.” She snakes her hand across the table and places it on top of your own. “Prison changes a man. He’s not the Spencer you once knew.”

“You think I don’t know that?” You retorted stroppily. “I know he’s changed but that doesn’t mean we’re going to- we’re not getting a- you know…”

“Divorce?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that.” You shrugged. 

“It fills me with deep concern that you can’t even say the word. How are you going to function when he leaves you?”

“Mother!” You gasped. 

“Oh, if and when, same thing.” She waved a hand in the air dismissively, her nimble pearl bracelets clinking against one another. “My point is, darling, you must accept that there’s a…significant possibility your life will change. You need to be ready for it.” 

“No.” You shook your head, refusing to let her words sink in. “Spence wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave me.”

“Oh?” She finally removed her sunglasses and you caught sight of the genuine concern in her steely eyes. “What did he say to you before you left this morning?” 

Your eyes shot to the floor as you remembered how he’d elected to go to work early, leaving the house without a farewell as was his routine these days. Seeing the anxiety and shame written all over your face, your mother sighed yet again. 

“Men in these situations often seek comfort in others.” She softened her tone but not her words. “You’re too close to the situation to make him feel better about it. You know too much.” 

“What are you trying to say?” You squinted. 

“He needs to feel like a man right now. And you can’t give him that.” She innocently sipped from the paper straw floating in her lemon water. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You dismissed her, the thought of Spencer cheating inconceivable. 

“Look out for the signs. If he’s working late too often, if he has secretive phone calls…” She trailed off. “It can’t hurt to pay attention.” 

Although you tried not to let them, her words had a nagging way of worming themselves into your brain and never coming back out. 

Later that evening, you returned to the empty confines of your house and spent several hours anxiously flitting your eyes to the clock on the wall. He should’ve been home early today. 

“Spence, is that you?” You called out once you heard the faint clicking of the door unlocking. The slow thudding of his heavy footsteps was heard before he entered your bedroom, looking very weary and sporting even more stubble than usual. 

“Who else would it be?” He asked with a shadow of a smile. Offering no explanation, he peeled off his blazer and loosened his tie as he perched on the edge of the bed. 

“Must be a really tough case you’re working on with the amount of overtime shifts you’ve been putting in.” You cleared your throat.

“It’s, uh, it’s been a tricky one. Yeah.” A deafening silence followed his obscure reply.

“Did you give any more thought to taking time off work?” You continued, yearning to wrap your arms around him but resisting. 

“No. I mean, yes I did, but I don’t want any time off. It wouldn’t help, I can hardly stand being at home.” You gulped at the hurtful connotation and he turned around to face you. “No, I didn’t mean like that. Not because of you. You know what I’m trying to say.” 

“Not sure I do.” You muttered under your breath. 

“I’m sorry. I’m a mess.” He dropped his head into his hands and took a deep, stabilising breath. “I just need time.”

“Of course, Spence, I understand that. It’s only that- well,  i-it’s been 6 months. 6 months of me doting on you and letting you get away with acting and speaking to me however you like. At what point does it end?” Your words had a desperate tinge to them. “I need some kind of indication.”

“I can’t tell you the exact time and date that I will forget everything that happened to me.” He stood up with a huff and you knew you’d touched a nerve.

“Don’t get defensive, I’m just trying to talk to you.” You got up and stood beside him, laying a flat palm to his chest. “To get through to you somehow, anyhow.” 

You could feel his warm, unsteady breath on your skin as he scrunched his eyes shut, wanting to be anywhere but here. 

“Why can’t you talk to me? You used to be able to tell me everything.” Your voice cracked as you rubbed your thumb across his cheek pleadingly. 

“I can’t give you what you want. Not right now.” He gently lowered your hand and stared into your eyes apologetically. 

“We haven’t made love in so long.” You murmured hesitantly and he shot you an irksome look. You hated to bring it up but the pain of his rejection was getting too much to bear- you had to let him know how badly you needed him.

“Is that why you’ve been on my case so much lately?” He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. 

“No, of course not.” You sighed. “Not the only reason, at least.” 

“Sorry, baby. I’ve been too busy dealing with major trauma to factor in your sex drive.” He quipped sarcastically. 

“That’s not fair, Spencer.” You had anticipated such a response but your heart dropped anyway when you heard it. “It’s not just about that and you know it. I just miss my husband- all of him.”

“Things change.” He mumbled. 

“Well, will they ever change back?” You snapped a little. “Tell me right now, can I get my husband back? Matter of fact, do you even want to come back?” 

Your eyes betrayed you with a steady stream of tears pouring down your reddened cheeks. 

“Do you still want me?” Your voice quivered, praying he wouldn’t take this opportunity to shatter you completely. 

“Yes. I do.” He answered simply though there was an air of conflict about him. “I’ve loved being your husband. I just, I- not now. I just can’t. I can’t do it.” 

He shook his head and paced out to the hall, shutting the living room door loudly once he was safely inside. 

Your blood began to boil. All the grace and understanding you’d shown him this year and he couldn’t even finish a conversation without running away like a coward. 

“You bastard. Come back here right now, Reid.” You barked out, running after him. “Or so help me God-.” 

“You’ll do what?” He opened up, lean figure resting against the door frame. ”You gonna kill me, honey?” 

“I just might!” You shrieked frustratedly. “I’m so unbelievably sick of you doing nothing but sulking and feeling sorry for yourself. Enough is enough. Wake up and smell the fucking flowers!” You crossed your arms, exasperated and a small smirk spread across his handsome face. “You’re smiling.” 

“Such good attention to detail. This is exactly why I married you.” He winked and you slapped his arm a little too forcefully. “Yes, I’m smiling. You’re adorable when you’re bratty.”

“If being at my wits end with you means being a brat then yes, I’m the biggest brat in the world!” You started bawling- you knew it was irrational but you were too sensitive and overwhelmed with emotion to let his teasing slide.

“I know, I know. It’s okay, shh.” He pulled you in close, pressing your delicate head against his chest. “Come on, my love. You know I can’t stand seeing you cry.” 

“How come you’ve been letting me do it every night, then?” You whimpered, pitiful words swallowed by the fabric of his white work shirt.

“I didn’t think it was that bad.” He looked down at you, a noxious blend of guilt and sympathy flickering in his tired eyes. “I-I thought you understood.” 

“Understood what?” You let out a muffled murmur as you drew in his heady scent, the musky cologne combined with his sweat soothing your overwrought senses. 

“That even though I’m in a dark place-” He lowered his face until you felt his hot breath against your flushed cheeks. “It doesn’t, for a single second, mean that I don’t love you.” 

“Really?” You gazed up at him lamentably. “It was starting to feel that way, li-like nothing I did was good enough.” 

“I’m sorry.” He almost winced, his regret tangible in how tightly he held you. “It’s not you, you’re perfect. You’ve been patient and understanding and I’ve completely put our marriage on the back burner….there’s no excuse.” He fell back into the sofa, pulling you down into his lap as he gently spoke.

“God it was just the weight of it all- the weight of how long it was taking me to shake it off. The longer it took, the more I felt like a failure and I couldn’t stand coming home to you every night and disappointing you. Seeing the unfalteringly hopeful look on your face and knowing it’d be wiped off after one conversation with me…I started avoiding you.”

“Spence…” You wilted like a flower at his confession.

“But that was selfish, I know that.” He took your face in his hands and professed earnestly. “I can’t apologise enough, my love.” 

“Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” Your heart leapt as your husband’s familiar warmth flooded you- and while you were grateful to get a glimpse of the old Spencer, you were also confused by the abrupt shift in his demeanour- if not suspicious. 

“Honestly? You getting pissed off flipped a switch in me.” He looked just as puzzled as you at the admission. “All this time you haven’t gotten mad once- even when you’re upset, you’re always sweet. I guess it took you acting out of character to make me see just how badly I’ve been treating you. You brought me to my senses by threatening me.” 

“And I’ll make good on that threat if you keep shutting me out.” You wagged a finger at him and he chuckled, clasping your hand and planting a soft kiss over it. 

“If I ever talk to you like that again, you have my full permission to kill me.” 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You scowled at him playfully and he patted your damp cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, drying the remnants of your tears. 

“I was reading my journal from our college days last night.” He admitted as you soaked up how good it felt to be in his arms again. 

“I knew that dusty old green thing looked familiar!” You bit your lip to contain the smile about to burst through. “Why were you looking through that?” 

“I needed a reminder of what kind of man I vowed to be. To stay true to that little nerd who couldn’t believe his luck when he got to marry you.” He pressed his forehead against yours as he filled your head with words you’d spent the last 6 months dreaming about. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to sleep in our bed again tonight.”

“You mean it, Spence? You really don’t have to if you don’t-“

“No, I really do. You’re my home, baby. And I’ve been away from home for too long.” He pulled you in closer until his lips gently met yours, kissing you so sweetly you thought you might melt. 

“God, I missed you.” You whispered as a shudder ran down your spine, his touch proving to be too much after you’d spent so long deprived. 

“I missed you more. I promise I’ll make it up to you. For all my mistakes.” He cooed but you weren’t even paying attention, all your focus centred on the dizzying way his large palm stroked your back. 

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He whispered, nudging his shoulder against your own. 

“Mhm…” You moaned lazily, allowing him to drag you up and guide you into the comfort of your bedroom, which instantly seemed more welcoming now that you knew he was finally joining you. 

“There, all tucked in.” He beamed after stuffing the edges of the duvet beneath your languid body. “I just need to change and brush my teeth, I’ll be right in.” He kissed your forehead and sauntered over to the adjoining bathroom. 

Before you could surrender to sleep, you pawed clumsily at the nightstand in search of your phone, overcome with the urge to message your mother- you just had to let her know she was wrong. Composing a text to assure her your marriage was no longer in danger, you sent it through with a satisfied sigh. Unexpectedly, the screen lit up not a moment after you’d put it down, accompanied by a quiet chirp that let you know she had sent one back. 

“Don’t let your guard down. Guilt is a powerful thing.” Her ominous words pulsed off the screen and left you feeling queasy. 

“Remember what I said. Look for the signs.” A second text flashed across the screen. 

You dropped the phone with a shaky clatter, as if your hands couldn’t wait to be rid of the thing. How could she remain insistent that Spencer had been cheating when he’d given next to no indication of it? You would’ve chalked it all down to her longstanding aversion to him and fallen into a peaceful slumber- if it wasn’t for the muttering you heard coming from the other side of the bathroom door. 

Like a jumpy cat, you raised yourself against the headboard at once and listened with bated breath. Struggling to make out a complete sentence as the running water smothered his words, you cautiously crept over to the door and ever so slightly pressed your ear against it. 

“I appreciate that but I can’t. We’ll have to reschedule.” Spencer’s muffled voice rang out, sounding slightly stressed. “No, I’m not thinking about leaving. I know I need you. Yes. Everything’s fine, I’m just not free tonight.” 

You let out an exasperated breath, in pure disbelief over what you’d overheard. Before you could gather your thoughts, the tap stopped running and you heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, prompting you to leap into bed and swathe yourself amongst the covers. 

“You asleep already, baby?” He whispered when he emerged from the bathroom, pressing his warm, pyjama-clad body flat against yours. You said nothing, remaining as still as a church mouse as he cosily nestled his face into the crook of your neck and dozed off. While your husband enjoyed the best sleep he’d had in the better part of a year, you spent the remainder of the night staring into the expanse of your dark ceiling, paralysed with fear. 

A Saturday morning was usually yours and Spencer’s favourite day of the week; it meant you could sleep in, have breakfast in bed and make love until noon all in glorious succession. This particular Saturday was markedly different- partly because Spencer had been called into work- and partly because you couldn’t go a second without driving yourself crazy thinking about his affair. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Hotch is insisting he needs the whole team together.” Spencer rolled his eyes as he hopped around in a struggle to get his socks on. You sat up in bed and nodded complacently, not wanting to set off any alarm bells to your profiler husband. “Hey babe?” He asked, fiddling with his tie. 

“Hm?” You smiled innocuously. 

“How would you feel if you had to start working again?” He bit his lip and looked at you, full of intrigue. “Would you manage?”

“Umm, I-I don’t know.” You stuttered, caught off guard completely by his question. “Why do you ask?” 

“Didn’t you have dreams? Goals you wanted to accomplish?” He asked sincerely and a thinly veiled panic began to rise in you. 

“Sure, I guess. I didn’t plan on abandoning them but- I don’t know, life got in the way and other things took priority.” 

“Hm. Okay.” He looked absorbed in thought as he grabbed his blazer. “I’ve got to run- how about I meet you for dinner at that new steakhouse in town? We’ve got a lot of things to discuss.” 

“We do?” You gulped. 

“I know I do.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead as you desperately tried to read his body language. “See you later.” 

“Bye, honey.” You choked out as he breezed out the door, leaving you with bile rising up your throat. 

You hated to admit it, but your mother was right. 

“And-and then he told her he needed her!” You blubbed down the phone when you finally plucked up the courage to call her later that day. “And don’t you dare say you told me so!”

“I wasn’t going to say that.” Your mother retorted dishonestly. 

“But that’s not all- before he left this morning, he was asking me how I’d feel if I had to start working again!” You whined, your body racked with so much anxiety it made you nauseous. 

“He’s trying to gauge how you’d cope if you no longer had him to financially rely on.” She sighed knowingly. “He’s trying to subconsciously prepare you. It’s almost thoughtful- in his own strange, dysfunctional way. Typical Spencer.”

“You really think this is it? He’s done with me?” You sniffed, desperately hanging onto the last thread of hope. “This might just all be a big misunderstanding.”

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I mean, the late nights, the phone call, the interrogation about your career. And the spontaneous apologetic outburst. It’s clear to see he’s bursting at the seams with guilt.” She tutted, feigning sympathy- but you knew she’d been waiting for Spencer to slip up for years. As much as it might have pained her to see her daughter like this, the satisfaction of knowing Spencer was almost out of her life outweighed the anguish. 

“So now what do I do?” You whinged, the last thread snapped. 

“You’re going to dress up in the tightest outfit you have, drive down to that restaurant and tell him you want a divorce.” She instructed with her signature self-assured candidness. 

“B-but I don’t want a divorce.” You mumbled meekly, acutely aware of how pitiable you sounded. 

“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.” 

Her words resounded in your aching brain as you rummaged through your closet looking for an outfit that fit the brief, ultimately settling on a satin black mini dress- Spencer’s favourite. 

Driving to the restaurant rehearsing your parting words was nothing short of excruciating. You adored your husband just as much as you did the day you first met; spotting him in that lecture hall, shiny brown hair slicked back as he twiddled a pen between his spindly fingers and scrunched his eyebrows up in displeasure at the set text. It was like a bolt of lightning struck you- love at first sight. 

How did you get to the point of divorce? Your brain was racked with potential guesses as to where along the line you lost him. Were you not interesting enough? You wanted to get your career back on track but you assumed Spencer would prefer a stay-at-home wife. Is that where you went wrong? Perhaps some woman at work was more engaging, perhaps he had more mutual interests with her than his boring wife. 

Pulling into the parking lot, you braced yourself to head for the entrance and find your soon-to-be ex-husband. Who would get the car in the divorce? He paid for it so you supposed the courts would award it to him. 

“Oh God.” You muttered under your breath, head spinning as you waited inside for a hostess. If you went by that logic, you’d be left with nothing. 

“Do you have a reservation?” The young worker hobbled over breathlessly. 

“Uh- probably, under a Mr Reid.” You twiddled your thumbs as she searched her database.

“Oh, he’s already been seated, just down there.” She pointed in his direction and you saw the back of his head, luscious curls nestling around the base of his neck. You sighed, he was going to be a tough one to get over. 

“Baby, there you are.” He rose from his seat to plant a quick kiss on your cheek and as always, pull out your chair. Where were you going to find someone as gentlemanly as him? “Are you okay?” 

“Sure.” You managed a small smile though you were sure he saw right through it. 

“I’ve already ordered us some wine, they had that white zinfandel you like.” He said, pouring you a glass.

“Trying to get me drunk, Reid?” You swirled the liquid around, inhaling the sweet aroma. 

“From half a bottle?” He chuckled nervously, your mannerisms already causing suspicion. “No, I want you sober for tonight.” 

“That’s unkind.” You muttered unintelligibly, knocking back your glass in one go. 

“Woah, slow down.” He cautioned as you clinked your glass against the bottle, prompting him to hesitantly pour you another. 

“You sure everything’s okay?” 

“Yes, great. What did you need to talk to me about?” You braced yourself for impact. 

“Okay, well, I know it would be a big change but just hear me out. I think in the long run, it’d be better for you if-“

“Actually, no. Everything’s not okay.” You slurred, the alcohol already impairing your senses. 

“Oh? What’s the matter?” He asked anxiously, fidgeting with his wedding band. 

“I want a divorce.” You blurted out tastelessly.

“You- what?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he blinked rapidly. “A divorce?”

“You heard me.” You gulped, trying your hardest to be stern even though you were about to fall apart. “You’ve run out of chances with me.” 

“Baby, what? I-I know it’s been rocky but I thought we talked it through? You seemed just fine last night, I don’t understand.” He shook his head, eyebrows raised so high a painful-looking row of wrinkles stacked up on his forehead. 

“I thought we were fine too, but I was wrong.” You took another glug of liquid courage as you avoided eye contact, knowing you would cave if you took even one glance at his big, round eyes. 

“I know I don’t have much room to complain after what I’ve put you through but can’t we at least talk about it first?” He pleaded, heart jumping out of his chest. 

“What is there to talk about, Spencer? You couldn’t come to me so you closed yourself off and found comfort in another woman- God knows how long this has been going on while I’ve been here pining after you like an idiot-“

“What?” He raised his hand, signalling you to pause your rambling.

“Don’t play dumb, I know you’ve been cheating on me.” You scoffed, determined not to fall victim to his gaslighting. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” His mournful expression was replaced by one of bewilderment. 

“I heard you last night on the phone to her. Who is she?” You cocked your head, a little smug over the fact that you’d caught him- what kind of a genius calls his mistress while his wife’s next door? 

To your surprise, Spencer broke out into a laugh, taking his head into his hands as he shook it in relief. “You got me, baby. You caught me.” He smiled dazedly. 

“I did, so I don’t know why you’re smiling.” You scowled.

“You caught me talking to my therapist.” He shot you an unimpressed glare. “I started seeing her 2 weeks ago and I didn’t want to tell you in case it didn’t work out. I didn’t want you getting your hopes up. But Jesus, baby. Divorce? That’s where you landed?” 

“It’s not just that!” You jumped to your own defence. “How do you explain all the late nights at work- and that conversation we had this morning about my career?”

“That’s what I was going to talk to you about today. I got you a job.” He stated. 

“Huh? Why?” You gawked, hesitant to believe anything he said. 

He took a deep breath, shuffling his chair a little closer and taking your hand. 

“Look, baby, I know you try your hardest to be a great wife. Too hard, if anything, and you’ve always been exceptional and far too good for me. As much as I love your dedication, you need to think about your own needs and prioritise those for a change. It’s no secret that you’ve been feeling unfulfilled for a while now, I can see it from a mile away. I should’ve addressed it sooner but, well, you know.”

“Spence?” You shook your head in uncertainty, wondering how you could’ve been so wrong.

“I should’ve never let you give your career up. I should’ve pushed you harder but I just loved having you at home all the time, it’s selfish, I know. My job is stressful but it gives me a sense of purpose, one I know you crave.” He explained, trying not to giggle at your awestruck face and your inability to form a single sentence. “What I’m saying is, I want to see you reignite that old passion you had. How would you feel about joining me in the BAU?” 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for his admission and tears of shock and immense relief began coursing down your face. “Spencer, I can’t believe this.”

“In hindsight, I should’ve talked to you about it first but I thought it might be a nice surprise- I’m an idiot, you don’t have to take it, of course, if you don’t want to.” He backtracked, suddenly aware of how flawed his plan was. 

“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a very long time.” You uttered softly. 

“R-really? You want to do it?” He raised his eyebrows in that adorably curious way of his. 

“I don’t know how you managed to figure out I wanted a job before I did, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Yes, I want to do it.” You nodded, too consumed with excitement to mull over your embarrassingly wrong assumptions.

“Now, it’s only a low-level position for the time being, just to ease you into the transition but you have the potential to-“

“I’ll be with you.” You smiled simply.

“Yes, for the most part. I thought it’d be a good way to spend more time together- not including the times when I’d have to fly out and can’t take you with me yet, although-“

“Spencer.” You interrupted him. “Thank you.” 

“Well, of course. Anything for you.” He squeezed your hands and you felt the anxiety throb away. “Can’t believe you thought I was cheating.”

“You gave me some major indicators!” You scrunched your face up awkwardly. “And my mother pointed out that-“

“Ah, there we go.” He sighed, unimpressed. “That woman has had it out for me for the better part of a decade.” 

“Sorry, baby, you know she has a talent for burrowing inside my head.” You confessed shyly, aware you should’ve known better. 

“I’m going to talk to her.” Spencer declared.

“Huh?” 

“First thing tomorrow, we’re going to her house and I’m throwing it all out there. After a decade of pent-up resentment, it’s time.” 

Spencer usually avoided your mother at all costs, electing to work overtime on weekends when she decided to visit and often coming down with mysterious ailments during the holidays that prevented him from attending her get-togethers.

“Can’t wait to see how that turns out.” You chuckled gleefully. “And therapy, baby? Wow. I’m so proud of you.” 

“I was sceptical at first but I think it’s helping- I’m learning to compartmentalise the issues and most importantly, not take them out on you.” He stared into your eyes and your breath hitched; even after so many years, he had a way of making you feel impossibly shy. 

“You sound like a new man, Mr Reid.” You teased, the wine floating around your bloodstream in a way that made you deliciously fuzzy.

“It’s all because of you, Mrs Reid.” A smirk tugged at his lips. 

“So we’re really okay?” You asked in disbelief, immeasurably relieved that the rollercoaster seemed to be at an end. “What now?”

“I’ll tell you.” He drawled in a softly seductive tone. “We’re going to order dinner and dessert, I’m going to get you a little too drunk.” He dropped his hand to your thigh, trailing up it as he spoke. “And then I’m going to take you home and fuck you.” 

“Oh.” You squeaked, breaking into tingles at the prospect. 

“That sound good, doll?” He kneaded your inner thigh and you felt your body go numb as words failed you. “I thought so.”

Seeing that the bottle on your table was glisteningly empty, Spencer beckoned over a waiter.

“Give me your most expensive wine.” He smirked while ordering. “We’re celebrating.”

Although he was a law-abiding federal agent, Spencer ran more than a few red lights that evening given the ravenous way his wife stared at him from the passenger seat, crawling out of her skin with the desire to touch him. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, you were both in a desperate rush to get inside. You clawed at Spencer’s shirt while he shakily tried to unlock the door, trembling with anticipation. 

“H-hang on, baby.” The sound of clinking keys mixed with his groans. “God…”

You left messy, wet kisses all down his neck as he finally pushed the door open, taking you into his arms and guiding you indoors. 

“Right- mm, here.” You whined between kisses, gesturing at the sofa as you kicked your heels off. 

“My desperate girl, can’t even wait long enough to get to the bedroom.” He teased as he pushed you down onto the couch, hooking onto the waistband of your tights with his bony fingers and slowly dragging them down your legs- leaving small kisses down your thighs and calves in the process. 

You let out impatient whimpers as he folded your dress up over itself and dragged down your panties.

“Were these your ‘I’m a strong woman’ divorce panties?” He chuckled as he yanked the tiny lace garment off your feet and threw it behind him. 

“I needed as much confidence as I could muster.” You pulled him closer by the tie for a heated kiss. “I was about to lose the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“You could never lose me.” He stared into your eyes with a dizzying intensity that made all the blood rush to your heat. “You’re my wife…” He drawled huskily as he ripped the front panel of your dress open. “Until the day I die.” Looping his fingers around it, he tore the material further with a loud tug, leaving your bare tits bouncing out of the tight fabric. “You jump to conclusions like it’s a full-time job.” He pressed his lips against your hot skin. “But I love you.” You wanted to laugh but a moan escaped your lips instead when he wrapped his tongue around one nipple, grasping the other with a rough hand. “And my God, do you have the best tits I’ve ever seen.” 

You raked your fingers through his thick, messy hair as you squirmed beneath him, sure that if he made you wait any longer you’d start crying. 

“Patience, baby. You’ll get it.” He whispered, dragging his lips down your body and leaving goosebumps in his wake. He left sloppy, open-mouth kisses along your thighs, so near your heat you could feel his warm breath fanning it. 

“P-please, Spence, please.” You muttered, bucking your hips to close the distance between you.

“You know I always give my girl what she wants.” He breathed heavily, snaking his arms around your shaky hips and tugging you closer to drag his tongue across your clit. You melted into the sofa as he sucked on your most sensitive spot, locking you into an unescapable vice with his strong arms. 

“Mmh…” You threw your head back, still squirming as he ate you with such passion and hunger that you committed every godless detail to memory. His hair became increasingly dishevelled as you twisted it into messy knots, fidgeting with the curls as he licked broad stripes up your clit with fanatical force. 

“Fuck, fuck…” You grew delirious as he sped up, legs trembling from how good he was making you feel; you desperately pressed yourself further against his mouth, wanting to be devoured until there was nothing left. 

“Can-can I, please, can you- oh God.” You rambled nonsensically as he showed no sign of slowing down, worshipping you with his tongue until you felt like blacking out. He groaned in approval as he flitted across your wet slit aggressively, knowing it pushed you over the brink every time. It had been months since he’d had you wrapped around his neck like this, panting in that slutty way that drove him wild- and as much as he wanted to savour it, he couldn’t wait much longer to have you. As you pushed his head down, he sucked so sloppily that the sounds emanating were nothing short of pornographic.

“Spencer!” You moaned out sinfully while you came, gripping his shoulders with your thighs as you dissolved into a mushy, whiney mess. Your hips twitched as he pulled away from you, wiping the drool from his mouth with the sleeve of his collared shirt. 

“No need to yell, I’m right here.” He grinned, deriving great pleasure from seeing you fall apart. 

“Oh God, I’ve forgotten how good you are that.” You winced, trembling from the force of your release. 

“I’ll make sure you never forget again.” He smirked into the kiss as he pressed his lips against yours, barely giving you any time to come to as he ripped off the remnants of your dress. “Sorry about that, doll- I’ll buy you a new one.” 

“It was my divorce dress, I never would’ve worn it again.” You giggled as you helped him out of his shirt and unbuttoned his trousers, desperate to feel him inside you. Your back arched instinctively as soon as you felt the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit; your head rolled back as you felt him slide in teasingly slow, letting you feel every last inch as he spread you apart and scattered sensual kisses down your neck. An obscene moan left your lips when he buried himself as deep inside you as he could. 

“Spence, fuck, I don’t know if- ah.” You struggled to get the words out as he stared down at you with amusement. “Too big, I-“

“A few months without my dick and you’ve forgotten how to take it?” He jeers, a twisted smile radiating from him. “That’s no good at all, baby. We’re gonna have to teach you all over again.” 

You bit your lip to conceal the whimper that threatened to spill as you nodded obediently, hanging off his every word. 

“Breathe.” He pulled out by just an inch or two, ensuring you would barely notice before slowly pushing his hips forward and plunging himself to the hilt. 

His hair dangled over his forehead, the unruly locks almost tickling you as he hovered above you, waiting for you to adjust to his thick length. 

“Mm…” You peeped, looking at him coyly like butter wouldn’t melt. 

“Yeah?” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours before you nodded. With the thousands of times you’d made love, he knew the meaning of every subtle cue and whimper; he knew you were often too shy to speak so he let you get away with using your varying whines as a form of communication. His dirty talk overwhelmed you, leaving you flustered and speechless- and he knew just how much you loved it.  

Spencer pulled out half his length this time, grabbing you by the jaw to hold you lovingly as he thrusted in and out, making sure to look you in the eyes as his swollen cock massaged your walls. Ever the shy one, you tried averting eye contact and looking away from his intense glare but he gently guided you back with a firm hand. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he made love to you, your twisted eyebrows and parted lips too sweet to ignore.  

You cried out when his thrusts grew rougher, panting heavily as he fucked you even harder than you remembered. 

“You can take it, baby.” He cooed as he fucked you deep and slow. “I know you can.” He pulled out almost all the way before plunging his cock back in, coated in glistening arousal. “Deep breaths for me, doll.” He breathed with you, setting a tempo as you struggled to get anything but your whorish moans out.

“You like it when I stretch this little pussy out?” He groaned, wet flesh and skin smacking against hip bone. “Yeah you do.” He smirked as your cheeks flushed red at his lewd words. “How were you going to go through with a divorce? You can’t even tell me you like the way I fuck you.” 

“Spencer!” You gasped, partly at his vulgarity and partly at the way his tip just brushed against your deepest spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“What, baby?” His hands trailed their way down to your hips as he sat up, gripping the handles of your body tightly as he fucked you onto himself. “We both know you could never find someone who fucks you this good again. Who pounds into your cunt exactly the way you need it.” Your jaw dropped at his crude words- he’d always had a penchant for making you flustered but it was clear that prison had made him even rougher around the edges. As much as you wanted to knock him down a peg, you couldn’t deny the truth to what he’d said; there was no upgrading after Spencer.

“You’re cockier than I remember.” You manage to breathe out, glassy eyes watering with overstimulation. 

“And you’re tighter than I remember.” He smirked maniacally as he started rubbing rough circles into your clit, not slowing down the way he was sorely pummelling into you. “Goddamn, angel, you take me so well.” He muttered under his breath as he observed the mouthwatering way in which your pussy swallowed his entire length, gushing with arousal as the wet smacking intensified. 

He swooped down to kiss you, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth as he pushed your knees against your chest. “You feel that?” He shuddered, guiding your hand to your stomach where his member was poking through the flesh, leaving an imprint.

“Uh huh.” You panted.

“You like having my cock this deep in your guts?” In an unexpected move, he pressed down on your lower stomach as you nodded to his question desperately. You screamed in blinding ecstasy as you reached your peak, the borderline cruel way in which Spencer continued pounding against your sweet spot proving too much to take. 

“Look at that, I got my answer.” He licked his lips at the sight of his cock glazed in creamy arousal as he pulled out with a groan. You lay motionless on the cushy sofa, limbs numb as you noticed the scowl Spencer was sporting on his chiselled face, small beads of sweat running down his temples. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He chuckled darkly. 

“Resting?” You upturned your eyebrows sweetly. 

Before you could protest, he dragged you down the sofa and turned you over, positioning you to arch your back and expose your throbbing pussy to him. 

“You think I’m going to let you get away with one round?” He spanked your ass with a firm, open palm. “I know you’ve been whining about this all the time to your friends. I know how desperate you’ve been for your husband to fuck you. Well, honey- I’ll give you something to talk about.” Before you could respond, he guided his veiny cock into your squishy walls, not giving you any time to adjust to the stretch as he pounded into you from the back. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He demanded as he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you up, holding your back flush against his body. “You wanted to be fucked like a whore? Answer me.” 

“Yes! Yes, Spence, I want it so bad, treat me like a slut.” You surprised yourself with your sinful words, the rough treatment prompting you to act out of character. He pushed you back onto the bed, holding you down as he drilled into you with dizzying speed. The couch squeaked with the force of your face getting pressed into the pillows as you panted so breathily you thought your heart might give out. You bit into the cushions as drool seeped freely from your mouth and wet the dark grey fabric. 

“Harder…” You murmured, barely audible.

“What was that?” Spencer asked in disbelief, slowing down a little to make your words out clearly. 

“Harder. I want you to fuck me to within an inch of my life.” You confessed sultrily and a dangerous smirk crept across your husband’s face. 

“Anything for you.” He was more than happy to comply with your request.

You spent all night tangled up in each other’s bodies, taking turns being mind numbingly rough and tooth achingly sweet. He whispered confessions of love in your ear one minute and he pinned you down hard enough to leave bruises the next. It was, without a doubt, the best night of your life.

Waking up the next day in Spencer’s arms gave you more euphoria than any drug ever could. He smelled of last night’s wine and sweat, intermingled with the floral detergent of your freshly washed sheets. 

“Good morning, baby.” He cooed when he saw your eyes flutter open. “Or rather, good afternoon. How’d you sleep?” 

“Never better.” Your husky voice replied. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a while.” 

“I guess I’ll have to carry you to your mother’s, then.” He chuckled, pulling you in closer so that your head rested on his smooth, bare chest. 

“What? You’re not still serious about doing that.” You looked up at him pleadingly. 

“Oh, yes I am.” He scolded playfully. “She convinced you I was having an affair and encouraged you to get a divorce. I’d say there’s a conversation to be had there.”

“You know, I really wish you weren’t so respectable sometimes.” You dreaded the prospect of such a confrontation. 

“There was nothing respectable about the way I was splitting you open last night.” He countered mischeviously and you rolled your eyes to distract from the blush creeping over your cheeks. “Come on, I’ll buy us breakfast on the way. Get dressed.” 

“But Spence!” You tried to argue but he had already climbed out of bed, humming showtunes on his way to the bathroom. With a hefty sigh, you swung your legs round the side of the bed and started searching for your underwear. 

“Are you sure? It’s not too late to turn around.” You twiddled your thumbs standing outside your mother’s house, her near-black wooden door looming over you as you waited for her to answer. 

“Yes. Stop being a wimp.” Spencer replied just before the door swung open.

“Oh. Hi darling.” She eyed you up before slowly turning her head. “Hello Spencer.” 

“There’s my favourite mother-in-law. We thought we’d surprise you with breakfast.” He lifted the brown paper bag containing drive through diner food. 

“As if I’d eat that.” She raised her eyebrows contemptously. 

“Come on, mom, are you gonna let us in or not?” You piped up after seeing she had no intentions of making things easy for Spencer. 

“Yes, fine, in you come.” She opened the door wide and stepped aside, letting you both enter her lavish home. 

“Love what you’ve done with the place.” He commented a little snarkily, noticing the extensive remodeling work that had been done.

“Oh yes, we did it last spring. I suppose you haven’t been round for years so you wouldn’t know. Are you avoiding me, Spencer?” She took a seat across from you both in the living room. 

“Me? Never. Just like you’d never convince my wife to get a divorce, right?” He quipped and your stomach twisted over how little it took them to start arguing- you’d only just walked in through the door. 

“I’ve only ever advocated for what’s best for her.” She stuck her nose up at her son-in-law. 

“And why are you so certain that’s not me?” He snapped, genuine curiousity tinging his voice. 

“You’re not good enough.” She replied with a resoluteness that must’ve hurt. 

“Why, mom? What’s so bad about Spence?” You asked. 

“He’s just not who you were supposed to end up with. You were not meant to give up your life to be a housewife to a mediocre man.” She answered simply, like she didn’t even have to think about it. 

“So you resent him because of my career choices?” You couldn’t help but laugh a little as she shrugged. “Mother, I chose to leave the field. He had nothing to do with it, he supported me-“

“Oh, I bet he did. Having a woman at home to cook and clean must’ve been too tempting of an offer to pass up.” She scratched at her right arm- a leftover habit from the nicotine patches she used years ago. She claimed she quit smoking but you suspected she’d be in dire need of a cigarette after this conversation. 

“That’s ridiculous-“

“She’s right.” Spencer interrupted you. “I was more than happy to have you at home. I preferred it, really. And I didn’t say a word even though I knew you were making a mistake, even though I knew it wouldn’t make you happy.” 

“See. The pipe cleaner admits it.” She scoffed and you shot her a venomous glare. “Not to mention what you’ve put her through this year.” 

“I know I haven’t by any means been a good husband, but I wouldn’t cheat and I’d never want a divorce. I’m trying to make things right.” He confessed earnestly. 

“How?” She scowled, clearly believing him to be beyond redemption. 

“He got me a job at the BAU.” You chimed in, wanting to see the smugness wiped off her face. 

“And I’m seeing a therapist.” Spencer continued. “I’m determined to be better.” 

She sat there in silence, incapable as always of expressing any remorse. 

“I love your daughter and I’m not going anywhere. I’d like it very much if we could somehow start over.” He shot her those puppy dog eyes of his and you sincerely believed if she didn’t give in, she must be the only woman in the world immune to his charms. 

“Alright. Alright, Spencer.” She sighed after a short contemplation. “If my little girl is happy, I suppose I have no choice.” 

“The bastard actually managed it.” You thought as you witnessed his beaming smile flood the room with light, his vibrancy so infectious you knew even your mother noticed. 

“Glad to hear it, mom.” He joked and she choked on the water she had begun to sip.

“Don’t push it.”

“Told you it’d all work out.” He said excitedly while he opened the car door for you, practically skipping out of your mother’s house. 

“I know, and she actually invited you round?!” You shook your head in disbelief as he started the engine and drove away from her gated residence. 

“Maybe we’ll make these trips a weekly habit.” He suggested, resting his hand soundly on your thigh. 

“Not every week. I need some alone with my handsome husband.” You gushed, admiring his perfect side profile. 

“You must have me confused with someone else, lady.” He chuckled as he switched on the radio. “Oh my God, baby! This song!” 

“No way, I haven’t heard this since, since-“

“That time in college.” He winked at you and you threw your head back in laughter, precious memories flooding your mind as the familiar pop tune hummed on. 

“Yeah. That was the first and last time we ever do it on a carnival pedal boat.” 

“Hey, never say never- I see a lake right over there.” He pointed out the window as you drove by.

“I don’t think so, buddy.” You slapped his arm playfully. “Those days are behind us, we’re old and boring now.”

“If this is boredom, sign me up for eternity.” A warm smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“God, I love you, Spencer Reid.” 

“I love you even more, Mrs Reid.”

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #matthew gray gubler

[springtyme]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐍𝐨 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 ♡

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐈'𝐦 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Spencer Reid x f!reader || Series masterlist || Series playlist

Main masterlist || can also be read on ao3 || Next chapter

summary: After having worked for the BAU for two years, you have seen and experienced a lot, but after a series of murders of young married couples, you’re asked to do something that you never had thought you would have to do; going undercover, as an expecting, married couple, with Spencer Reid.

word count: 5.8k

warnings/tags: Eventual smut! (18+, mdni!) Undercover as a married couple. Pretend pregnancy. Language. Drinking. Angst and fluff. Slow burn. Mutual pining. Coworkers to lovers. Not set at a specific time, but definitely somewhere in the early seasons. Reader uses she/her pronouns. Mention of canon-typical violence.

The table is a bit sticky, and the music could be better, but the drinks are decent and you’re just so happy to finally be out with your friends after what feels like forever. Your job is demanding, and being an FBI agent in the Behavioral Analysis Unit means that your work-life balance is almost non-existent. But tonight, you don’t want to think about the gruesome crime scenes or the long hours spent profiling and investigating violent crimes, all you want to do is have a good time and catch up with your friends. And finally having an occasion to dress up and feel cute isn’t bad either.  

Closing your glossed lips around the straw of your Strawberry Daiquiri, you take a long sip and let the sweet, icy drink cool your throat as you sit back in your chair, listening to the lively chatter of your friends. Michaela and Piper are going back and forth about some new movie that you haven’t had the time to watch yet, and you and Janelle, who is sitting across from you, are laughing at their antics as you listen to their debate with half an ear, but you focus shifts as Janelle gently nudge your shin under the table.

“That guy is totally checking you out,” Janelle says with a playful raise of her eyebrow, gesturing towards the bar with her eyes, as she takes a sip of her Mai Tai, while Michaela and Piper continue their discussion about whether the final plot twist of the movie was too predictable or an actual  genius twist.

You can’t help but let out a tired giggle and roll your eyes as you follow Janelle’s gaze, glancing over to the bar and catch the eye of a man who is indeed looking in your direction, but you quickly turn back towards your friend again. “I thought we had decided to just focus on having a girls’ night out tonight, no boys allowed?” you say, giving her a knowing look. She shrugs her shoulders and smiles jestingly.

“You can still appreciate the view, even if you’re not looking to buy,” she teases, taking another sip of her drink. You shake your head, laughing at her antics, but you can’t help but look over in the direction of the guy at the bar again. He catches your eye and flashes you a charming smile. He is cute, sure, but not cute enough for you to want to do anything about it. 

But to be fair, he could be the cutest guy in all of  D. C. and you probably still wouldn’t do anything about it. You don’t really have the time or energy for dating right now and you are not really currently in the mood for meaningless sex with a stranger either. 

Your job consumes so much of your life already, and you’re content with just focusing on your career, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Sure, it would be nice to have someone to share your life with, but what you’ve learned over the last few years is that most guys don’t understand the demands and emotional toll of your job. They either can’t handle the long hours, and all the time you have to spend on cases, or the gruesome details of your work, or they simply can’t comprehend the darkness that you have to face on a daily basis. And so, you’ve built up walls to protect yourself, to shield yourself from potential heartbreak or disappointment.

“You sure it’s not you who he’s checking out?” you ask, trying to shift the focus of the conversation away from your lack of interest in dating. Janelle laughs and shakes her head. 

“No, I think he’s definitely into you,” she says, nudging you playfully. 

“Well, I’m not interested, so he is all yours, Nell,” you reply, taking another sip of your drink as you give her a playful wink. Janelle just laughs and shakes her head.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just here to have a good time with my girlies,” she says, raising her glass in a toast, making Machaela and Piper forget their never-ending debate and cheerfully join in. 

Just as you’re about to raise your glass and join in the toast, your phone buzzes in your purse, interrupting the moment. You reach into your bag and pull out your phone, seeing Hotch’s familiar number flash across the tiny screen. 

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you say with a sigh, standing up from the table giving your friends an apologetic smile. Your friends nod understandingly, knowing that your job always comes first as you excuse yourself from the table and head to a quieter corner of the bar to take the call. You feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you, knowing that your night out with your friends is about to be cut short. 

“Yeah?” you answer, putting the phone to your ear, not bothering with any formalities as you know that Hotch is going straight to the point when he calls you outside of office hours.

“Sorry to interrupt your Friday night, but we’ve got a new case, high priority,” Hotch’s voice comes through the line, his tone serious and professional, but you can also hear the tired edge in his voice. It can’t be easy being the Unit Chief and always having to be on call, but you respect him for his dedication to the job. “I’m afraid I need you and the team back at the office ASAP.” 

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” you say, already mentally preparing yourself to switch back into work mode.

“Great, thank you, agent,” Hotch says, and you can hear the gratitude in his voice before he hangs up. You can only imagine how shitty it must feel to have to call in your team on a Friday night only a few hours after everyone has left the office. But that’s the nature of the job, and you have accepted it a long time ago, even though it means sacrificing your personal life and plans at a moment’s notice. 

With a deep breath you take a moment to collect yourself, trying to shake off the disappointment of having to leave your friends behind. As you head back to the table to break the news to your friends, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for having to leave them hanging. They all look up at you expectantly, sensing the change in your demeanor. “I’m sorry guys, I have to go. Work…” you trail off, your voice apologetic, you hate having to disappoint them.

Michaela and Piper exchange sympathetic looks, while Janelle just nods understandingly. “It’s okay, we understand,” Janelle says, giving you a reassuring smile. 

“I’m sorry I have to cut the night short,” you say, feeling the weight of disappointment settling in your chest. 

“Hey, your job’s important, we’ll catch up another time,” Michaela says, standing up to give you a supportive hug. “And we are really proud of you, just so you know,” she adds, giving you a reassuring smile as she pulls back from the hug.

Suddenly you almost feel like you could cry. You spend so much time burying your emotions and focusing on the job that it almost feels overwhelming to be reminded that you have people outside of work who love and care about you. “Thank you, Kay,” you say, smiling back at her. You hug the others and say your goodbyes, before you quickly gather your things and prepare to head out and find a cab. 

· · · · ·

Spencer is abruptly pulled out of his slumber by the sound of his phone ringing. The book he had been reading sprawled open in his lap. The softness of the armchair and the long week of work finally caught up to him, and he must have dozed off. He blinks groggily as he fumbles to grab his phone. He squints at the screen, momentarily disoriented from being woken up so suddenly. Seeing it’s a call from Hotch, he quickly answers, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Hello?” Spencer mumbles, trying his hardest to sound awake and alert despite his groggy state.

“Reid, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but we have a new case, high priority. I need you and the others back at the office ASAP, we will have a briefing as soon as you’re all here,” Hotch’s voice comes through the line, terse and serious, but also tinged with exhaustion. 

Spencer’s heart sinks at the news, knowing that his plans of spending a quiet Friday night at home, recovering after a hard work week is now dashed, but he quickly pushes the book aside, already mentally preparing himself to switch into work mode.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he replies, removing his glasses that he had swapped his contacts out for earlier in the evening. Rubbing his eyes and sitting up straight, the sense of urgency now kicking in.

“Thank you, Reid,” Hotch says before ending the call, leaving Spencer to gather his things and head out to Quantico without delay.

As he makes his way out of his apartment and towards his car, he can’t help but feel a sense of disappointment at having his night disrupted once again by work. He had really been looking forward to a quiet night in, and finally enjoy a break. 

Spencer watches the city lights pass by in a blur as he begins to make his way out of D. C., the reality of his job sinking in once again. He knows that as a part of the BAU, his work is never truly done. The cases are always waiting, the criminals are always out there, and the demands of his job are always pressing. And while he loves what he does and finds fulfillment in helping to catch the most dangerous offenders, and having his mind challenged, there are days when he longs for a sense of normalcy, for a break from the darkness that seems to follow him everywhere he goes.

With a deep breath, he steels himself for the long night of driving and work ahead, knowing that he may not see his bed again for a while. 

· · · · ·

As you arrive back to Quantico, you rush into the FBI building, quickly making it through the security check. The heels of your stilettos click loudly against the floor as you hastily make your way to the conference room. The short, tight dress that had made you feel so confident just a few hours ago now makes you feel exposed and vulnerable as you walk through the sterile hallways of the building. 

You try to pull down the short hemline of your dress, as you push open the heavy door to the conference room, but it doesn’t change the fact that most of your thighs are on display and that your tits are almost spilling out of the low-cut neckline. It is so rare that you get the opportunity to dress up and feel sexy, so you might have gone a little overboard with your choice of outfit for a simple girls night, or at least that is how you feel now as you’re about to walk into a room full of your colleagues, who aren’t that used to see this side of you, and are about to hear about the details of a violent crime case.

As you step into the room, you see that Derek and Spencer are already sitting at the big round table, waiting for the rest of the team to show up, Hotch is probably in his office getting more details for the briefing before the entire team is here. They turn their heads in your direction as you enter, and you can feel their eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary, seemingly surprised to see you in such attire.

“Damn, princess, you clean up well,” Derek says with a smirk, giving you a once-over. “You had a hot date tonight or something?” 

You roll your eyes at his comment, knowing that he always loves to tease you about your personal life. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Morgan,” you reply with a raised brown and a playful smile, taking a seat at the table and crossing your legs and adjusting your dress as you sit down. 

“Of course, I would like to know, that’s why I asked,” Derek chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “You come in here looking like that, and you expect us not to ask questions? I just need to know, is he more handsome than me, should I be worried?” he teases, earning another playful eye roll from you.

“Can’t a girl just want to look good for a change, without it having to be for a man?” you shoot back.

“What do you mean, for a change? You always look good,” Derek counters with a charming smile, before he turns to Spencer, who has been awfully quiet this entire time. “Isn’t that right, pretty boy?”

Spencer looks up at Derek and then at you, a faint blush rising to his pale cheeks. His hair is slightly tousled and he is wearing his glasses, making him look even more adorable than usual. You don’t know if it is wrong of you to think of your colleague as adorable, he is a grown man and exceptionally capable of his job, you respect him a lot, but you just can’t help but find Spencer extremely endearing. 

“You don’t have to answer that, Spence,” you quickly interject, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. You know that Spencer can be a bit awkward when it comes to social interactions and you don’t want Derek’s teasing to make him feel even more self-conscious.

You and Spencer have become good friends over the two years that have passed since you joined the BAU team, you and him are the youngest agents in the unit. You have always admired Spencer’s brilliant mind and his ability to remember almost everything he reads as well as his sweet, quirky personality. You have a mutual respect for each other’s intelligence and dedication to the job. You have also noticed the way he sometimes gets lost in his thoughts or stumbles over his words when he’s nervous, and you have always tried to support him and make him feel comfortable in social situations.

But despite being friends and good colleagues, there’s also always been a slightly awkward tension between you and Spencer, at least on your end, it’s not like it’s there all the time, but you do feel it from time to time. You are not even sure where it comes from or why it’s there, but there’s something about Spencer that can make you feel slightly flustered and unsure of yourself, if you ever stop to think about it. It’s probably just because you admire him so much and don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of someone you respect so deeply.

“No, it’s okay,” Spencer says, his usual rambling tone coming through as he speaks. “You do look very nice, tonight. Wait, no, I mean, Morgan is right you always look nice, but you also look real nice tonight,” he stammers, stumbling over his words as he tries to explain himself. 

You can’t help but smile at his adorable awkwardness, grateful that Derek’s teasing didn’t faze him too much. “Thank you, Spence,” you say, giving him a kind smile and reaching out to pat his arm reassuringly, hoping to ease his discomfort. ��I appreciate it.”

“Oh, so when it is him you appreciate it, I see how it is,” Derek jokes, earning a playful shove from you. 

“Shut up, Morgan, you know that I love you,” you say with a laugh, playfully rolling your eyes at him, which makes him laugh, but you don’t get to continue your banter as the rest of the team starts to filter in, Hotch enters the room with a stack of case files in hand, his usual stoic expression in place as he takes his seat at the head of the table to begin the briefing. 

“Thank you all for coming with such short notice,” Hotch starts, his voice authoritative and commanding. “We have a new case that just came in and it’s classified as high priority. A series of brutal murders have been reported in Northern California. Local police have finally reached out to us for assistance after multiple cases after two new victims were found earlier in the day. They have all been double murders, with the assumption that the victims have been stalked for a while beforehand, and are then killed in a very specific and violent manner. All have been young married couples, all under thirty, and in all of the cases, the female victim has been between five and nine months pregnant.”

As Hotch continues to outline the details of the case, you can feel the weight of the seriousness of the situation settle in the room. You are usually able to compartmentalize your emotions and focus on the task at hand, but the thought of innocent lives being taken in such a violent manner always hits a nerve and you feel a chill run down your spine as Hotch describes the details of the case, the gravity of the situation sinking in. This is a disturbing and horrific case, one that hits close to home for you as a woman. 

As Hotch finishes the briefing he turns to Spencer. “Reid, I would like to have a word with you in my office. The rest of you, start looking into the evidence and see if we can find any leads or patterns that may help us track down the unsub.”

You watch as Spencer nods in acknowledgment, it’s clear that he is a bit confused about being called into Hotch’s office alone, as he follows Hotch out of the room, leaving you and the rest of the team to start digging into the case files and evidence.

· · · · ·

“Please take a seat,” Hotch says as he gestures towards the chair in front of his desk, as Spencer follows him into his office. Spencer feels slightly anxious as he takes a seat, his eyes searching Hotch’s face for any clues as to why he’s been called into his office while Hotch takes his seat behind the desk. Hotch clears his throat before speaking, his tone serious and professional. “I have something to ask you to do, and it’s not a small thing,” Hotch begins, his eyes fixed on Spencer. “I need you to think carefully before you answer.” 

Spencer can feel how his heart starts to race, his mind already trying to anticipate what Hotch is about to ask him. “What is it?” he asks, his voice steady despite his growing nerves. Hotch takes a moment to gather his thoughts before he speaks again. 

“I’ve spoken with the local authorities in California, as well as our own expert and with the circumstances of the case and lack of leads, we have decided that the best way to proceed is to send in two undercover agents that fits the profile of the victims, and I want to ask you to be one of those agents.” 

Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise, his mind racing with the implications of such a task. Going undercover in a case like this would be incredibly risky, not to mention emotionally taxing and it is not something he has much expertise in.

“I understand that this is a big ask, but you fit the profile of the victims and your ability to think on your feet and adapt in high-pressure situations makes you the best candidate for this job,”  Hotch explains, his eyes searching Spencer’s face for any sign of hesitation.

Spencer takes a moment to process Hotch’s words. He can see the logic in Hotch’s reasoning with the specific details of the case and the lack of leads; it might be the best way to proceed, and Spencer knows that it is only done when absolutely necessary. “And you’re sure I’m the best agent for the job, I don’t have much experience with undercover work,” Spencer says, keeping his voice as steady as he can while feeling the uncertainty within himself. 

“You’re more than capable, Reid. Your intelligence and quick thinking are your strongest assets, and we have full confidence in your abilities. I would never ask this of you if I was not fully convinced that you are fit for this job. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I also know that you have it in you to handle it,” Hotch reassures him, his tone firm and unwavering. 

Spencer nods, taking a deep breath as he processes the weight of the task that has been given to him. This is a very serious assignment, one he knows is crucial to solving the case and bringing justice to the victims. “If you believe I can do it, then I’ll do it,” Spencer says finally, his voice resolute. 

Hotch nods, a sense of relief crossing his features. “Thank you, Reid. This means a lot to the case, and I know you will do a great job,” he says, his voice showing his appreciation. 

Spencer reciprocates the nod, feeling a surge of determination coursing through him. It’s a lot to take in, and it takes his usually so fast thinking mind a second to realize that he won’t be going undercover alone. “Who will be the other agent going undercover with me?” Spencer asks, wanting to know who he will be partnering with.

“I have someone in mind, but I want to make sure that she is on board before we move forward.” 

“Is it, Y/L/N?” Spencer can’t help but ask, his mind already considering the possibilities of who he is going to work undercover with, and you are the person in the unit that would fit the profile of the victim the best. He really hopes it’s gonna be you, even though a part of him also doesn’t want you to be put in a potentially dangerous position. Spencer knows that your skills and intelligence would complement his own in such a high-stakes situation. And most importantly he just really likes being around you. You are always so kind to him and you never fail to make him feel included and supported. 

Hotch nods. “Yes, she fits the profile as well and I believe that she has the expertise for this kind of operation. I will speak with her and see if she is willing to take on this assignment. I trust that the two of you will work well together on this case and you seem to get along well, and that’ll be important in this case. I’ll have to be sure that the agents I’m sending in can deliver a believable performance.”

And that is when it really dawns on Spencer, the two of you are not just going into a dangerous situation together, you will also have to pretend to be a couple, a young married couple expecting a child. He had been so caught up in the seriousness of the assignment and the potential risks involved that he hadn’t even considered that part of going undercover with you. 

The thought of pretending to be a married couple with you, even if it’s just for the sake of the operation, sends a wave of feelings and thoughts through him, too many at once for him to fully process. Sure, it’s all part of the job, but the idea of being so close to you and having to maintain that facade is a challenge he’s not sure he’s fully prepared for. The idea of playing the role of your husband, even if it’s just for work, is both exhilarating and absolutely terrifying at the same time. 

But as Spencer looks into Hotch’s eyes, he sees the trust and confidence that his boss has in him, and he knows that he can’t back down now. He has a job to do, and he will do it to the best of his abilities, alongside you. 

· · · · ·

After Hotch and Spencer left the conference room, you and the other agents moved back to your desks to go through the evidence and case files. You are now wrapped in the cardigan that usually hangs from the back of your desk chair and you feel a little more office appropriate. 

“Damn, this is a tough one,” Derek says, shaking his head as he scans through the crime scene photos. “The level of violence in these murders is just brutal.” 

You nod in agreement as you flip through your own stack of evidence, looking up from the file in your hand as Spencer and Hotch emerge from Hotch’s office, Spencer walking down the stairs to join the team, but Hotch stays back, his expression serious and you get a little surprised when he addresses you.

“Can I have a word with you in my office?” Hotch says, his tone somber before he steps back into his office. 

You can’t help but feel a sense of urgency as you put down the file in your hand and get up from your desk. You pass Spencer at the foot of the stairs, his eyes flicking down to meet yours. “Everything okay?” you ask, a hint of concern in your voice. Spencer nods, but there is something in his eyes you can’t quite read. 

“Yeah, uh… yeah, Hotch will explain,” he says, his voice slightly tense, and a slight crease is formed between his brows  but the look in his brown eyes are soft as they meet yours. 

“Okay,” you whisper, giving him a small smile, before  you quickly step up the stairs, or at least as quickly as you can in your five inch heels. You feel a small knot of anxiety starting to form in your stomach as you step into the office, wondering what this is about.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you feel the weight of Hotch’s gaze on you as you stand in front of his desk. “Please, sit down,” Hotch says, his tone grave as he gestures towards the chair in front of him. You take a seat, feeling a sense of unease settling in your stomach.

Hotch’s expression is unreadable as he looks at you, and for a moment, you can’t help but wonder what all of this is about.

“I have a very big thing to ask from you, agent, and I want you to know that I’m asking this of you because I trust you can handle it. It’s a request, but the choice is fully up to you,” Hotch starts, his voice steady but filled with seriousness. “Due to the lack of leads and the nature of these murders, we have come to the decision to send in two undercover agents who fit the profile of the victims to try and draw out the unsub, and I would like to ask you to be one of those agents. Agent Reid has already agreed to take on the assignment, the two of you match the victim profiles, and I truly believe that with your skills and expertise, you would be the perfect choice for this task.” 

You lean back in your chair as you let Hotch’s words sink in. So this is why Hotch wanted to talk with Spencer. Going undercover on a case as gruesome and high stakes as this is not something to take lightly, but with the circumstances of the case and the lack of current leads you can see the logic in it. It’s a risky move, but you know that sometimes risky moves are necessary in order to catch the unsub and bring justice to the victims. 

“I know that this is a very big thing for me to ask of you, and I want you to know that I fully understand if you have any reservations or concerns,” Hotch continues, his tone earnest. “But I also believe that you have what it takes to handle this assignment, and your dedication to the job is unparalleled. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I wasn’t convinced that you could handle it.” 

“I understand the gravity of this assignment, Hotch,” you say, your voice calm and steady, wanting to reassure him that you are aware of the importance of the task at hand. “I am aware of the risks involved, and if you think I’m the right person for the job, then I’ll do it.” 

Hotch nods, his features softening. “Thank you, agent. I know this is a lot to ask, but I have full confidence in your abilities and I truly believe that you and Reid will be able to handle this assignment with the utmost professionalism.” 

You nod in acknowledgment, a surge of determination coursing through you by your decision. You also can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over you at the fact that Spencer will be the person going undercover with you. You trust him implicitly and that makes you feel a sense of ease.

“I will arrange for a briefing with you and Agent Reid to go over the details of the assignment. You’ll also have to go through a training course while we set up a location for the undercover operation, and you will of course be given your undercover identities. I’ll inform the rest of the team about the assignment,” Hotch’s words are firm and decisive, and you can see the weight of responsibility in his expression. “But you better get home and get some rest. You have a long and intense process ahead of you, agent,” he adds, a softer tone creeping into his voice.

“Copy that,” you reply as you stand up from your chair. Soon you’re back down in the bullpen, standing at your desk as you gather your belongings and start to make your way out of the office. Just as you’re about to close your purse, you catch Spencer’s eye from where he’s standing over at his own desk, and as you give him a tired smile, which he mirrors, you swing your purse over your shoulder and walk over to his desk. 

“So, Hotch asked you?” Spencer says as you approach him, his brown eyes meeting yours. You nod, the weight of the assignment settling in as you face each other. 

“Yeah, he did. Looks like we’re partners in this one,” you reply, smiling at him once again.

Spencer nods, a small smile of his own tugging at the corners of his lips. You both stand there for a short moment, the weight of the assignment hanging heavily between you, before Spencer breaks the silence. “Do you need me to walk you to your car? I know the parking lot is just outside and that we have security, but still.”

You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you for his offer, and you can see the concern in his eyes as he looks at you, but that is also when you remember that you didn’t drive here yourself.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you,” you say, feeling touched by his concern. “But I actually didn’t drive here tonight, I took a cab.”

“You took a cab all the way from D. C.?!”

You laugh at his surprised expression. “Yeah, I was out, I didn’t have my car and I also had had a few drinks.”

“You should have called me, I could have picked you up and we could have driven together,” he says, his tone filled with genuine concern. You can’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness.

“I appreciate that, Spence. Maybe next time,” you say, giving him a grateful smile. You know that Spencer is always willing to go above and beyond to help his friends and colleagues, and you can’t help but feel extra lucky to have him as a partner in this assignment. 

“Well, you have a ride back home now,” he says, offering you a gentle smile.

“That’s nice,” you reply, with a bright smile, feeling very grateful for his offer. You had expected to get a lift from one of your colleagues when you drove out here, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to get hold of a cab this late out here, but it feels really nice that you didn’t even have to ask for one. 

“Of course,” Spencer replies, his smile growing wider. Soon the two of you are stepping out of the FBI building and are met with the brisk night air, your feet are hurting and the cool air makes goosebumps rise on your skin. But almost before you get to register it, Spencer has removed his jacket and offers it to you. “You must be cold,” he says, giving you a kind look. You try to protest, but he insists, draping the jacket over your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you mumble, not feeling like protesting further as soon as the warm feeling of the jacket engulfs you. 

Once you reach his car, he opens the door for you and you slide into the passenger seat, feeling a sense of gratitude for his kindness. “You want this back?” you ask, removing the jacket from your shoulder. You don’t really feel ready to give up the warm garment, but you also don’t want to assume that he offered it for more than just the walk to the car. 

Spencer shakes his head as he settles into the driver’s seat and you watch him start the engine. “No, you just keep it.” You smile happily as you toe off your shoes and curl up in the seat draping the jacket over your bare legs, feeling like it is enveloping you in a comfortable cocoon of warmth and safety as Spencer starts the car and begins the drive back towards D. C.

The landscape passes by in a blur outside the window as the two of you drive in comfortable silence, the both of you seemingly getting lost in your own thoughts for a little while. The weight of the assignment in front of you settles heavily between you.

“I’m really grateful that you’re going to be my partner on this assignment,” Spencer breaks the silence eventually, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. 

“Me too,” you reply, turning to look at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. 

Another comfortable stretch of silence fills the car as you continue on your way back to the city. Despite trying to fight it, your eyes start to feel immensely heavy. Fatigue from a long day and the weight of the impending assignment finally catching up to you, and with the gentle lull of the car you never really stood a chance and soon you are starting to doze off, slowly sliding into the sweet embrace of sleep as you sink deeper into the soft car seat.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated :) let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter ♡ edit: it would especially be nice if you reblog when you ask to be added to the tag list ♡

Taglist: @luivisa @babyspiderling @reidsdaisies @eddioto @sadroses98 @lovelyygirl8

#springtyme writes #this ain't no empty home #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #bau x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #criminal minds #slow burn #doctor spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid imagine #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #x reader

[astrophileous]

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

#mentioningmargins #spencer reid #spencer reid x daughter #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #dad spencer reid #husband spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #matthew gray gubler #mgg #fanfic

[velvetwilde]

pretty, pretty princess

#i wanna cuddle with him #and give him many kisses on his beautiful face #so what #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #spencer read x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencerreid #spencer #reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #cm

[007reid]

So, still in the au of “secrets: Spencer Reid”..

I wanna see the teams reactions to reader and how cute Spencer is with her and how protective she is of him. Maybe Spence gets a little drunk and reader has an arm locked around him with a possessive scowl on their face. Pleeaasee??

you ask and you shall receive! i’m glad you enjoyed secrets, anon<3 sorry this is so late :(

secrets p. 2. spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader

part 1 | part 2 ♡ this can be read as a stand-alone though!

summary: everyone expected spencer’s plus one to be his grandma or a close friend visiting. to see him show up with you hanging off his arm, clad in a black dress and rubbing your blood red lips together, you become the talk of the night.

warnings: fluff fluff just straight fluff!! spencer introducing his gf to the fam, teasing, drinking, flirting , nothing out of da norm. r is tough and possessive and spencer is basically her girlfriend.

a/n: someone take pinterest away from me because i’m getting too good at scouring for mgg stills and staring at them for hours. tell me you didn’t stare at that picture too.

spencer texted morgan that night, telling him that he’s bringing a plus one. morgan responded with a curt “yea bring ur ma on over why not.”

it appears that morgan did not take spencer that seriously. so he texted garcia, and she responded with “which member of the family havent we met? ❤️” spencer was just midst of falling on to his knees.

the day rolls around and spencer dreads it, plots a plan to make you watch a star wars movie marathon so that you’d fall asleep by the time of the event. he’s not a social recluse, by any means (okay so sometimes he is) but he prefers an evening staying in over going out. and it’s sunday evening, too, and he just wants an early night and to kiss you lazily until he’s sleepy. he doesn’t want to start the car, doesn’t want to get dressed up and get tidy for the bar. doesn’t wanna go anywhere.

the marathon plan backfired on him. just as you’re halfway through the third movie, you start pushing the throw blanket off your bodies, nudging spencer’s arms off of you. spencer whines, and he tries to make himself look extra pathetic (which didn’t take much, considering how he’s already desperate to get out of meeting the team) so that you’d pity him.

you don’t fall for his act one bit, which is extremely humbling to spencer. his puppy eyes used to work on you, but he suppose you’ve grown an immunity to them. “lazy boy,” you chides. he hides his face in the crook of your neck and you laugh. “come on, we’ll be late.”

“fashionably late,” spencer quips. you laugh again, detangling your bodies and press a kiss on his cheek before leaving the living room. spencer sits on the couch for a while and contemplates.

he does end up dragging his ass off the couch and freshen himself up. you have decided to use the guest bathroom for some reason, and he gets ready by himself, shaving before throwing on a simple burgundy sweater with all kind of patterns on it and some black pants, smoothing his hair out a bit and tucking them neatly behind his ears.

he rubs at his chin, looking at himself in the mirror. he looks like a middle school civics teacher, but he couldn’t careless.

he grabs his phone and slides it in his back pocket, going to the closed guest bathroom door. he knocks softly, leaning in close to not miss your voice.

“yn?”

“almost there,” you respond through the door.

“can i come in?”

“uhh,” spencer frowns. it’s unusual you’re doing this. you guys have shared an apartment for five months now, and he’s basically learned to lived around your life, to always have you wherever. getting ready apart is definitely unusual, and you’re being hesitant about letting him in, even.

maybe you’re still mad about the lila thing. he should apologize the moment he gets the chance.

“sure honey,” you say finally. spencer cautiously opens the door, and you’re sitting on the bed, pulling up your black pantyhose. he melts and perks up simultaneously at the sight of you.

you’re wearing a shiny, black silk dress that goes halfway down your thighs, the material pooling on the white sheets as you adjusts the pantyhose, reaching for your matching black leather mary janes. spencer looks down at himself, feeling timidly underdressed. you look up and smile at him so easily as if you're not the most beautiful woman in the world.

spencer feels his throat clog up. he clears it but when he speaks his voice is still blurry. "hi."

"hi," you buckle up your mary janes, gold necklace hovering above your knee. spencer stands awkwardly at the door, too entranced to move. you look up when he doesn't answer immediately, and breathe out a laugh when you see the dumb, starstruck look on his face. "gonna stand there all night baby?"

"mhm," spencer says absentmindedly. he finally bounces off the door frame and carefully sits himself on the bed next to you, cautious with every move. he immediately gets a faceful of the scent of your perfume and you look like an angel, smell like one too. "new dress?"

"mhm, thrifted it the other night," you respond. you stand up from the bed and do a small twirl, the thin fabric forming the shape of a flower, flying. you remind him of a black cherry blossom, if those even existed. "you like it? found it for four dollars. can you believe that? deal of a lifetime. if i had gotten to the thrift later someone would've snatched it right up."

to be honest, spencer isn't listening to a single word you're saying. he stares at you, and your silver hoops and crinkling eyes and the silver necklace he gifted you for your birthday five months ago and gets dizzy with the thought of how lucky he is.

"crazy deal," he says. then blurts. "you look beautiful."

you smile playfully. "you're just saying that," you laugh, smoothing out your hair in the mirror installed in the wardrobe. spencer stares at your reflection. "looking dapper yourself, doctor."

"do you think i should change?" he asks. because right now, it looks like you're both dressing up for different events. him to a school-based textbook debate conference and you to a high class art museum. neither events are the actual event you are both going to.

"you look handsome, spence," you reassure him. "that sweater. it suits you."

"it doesn't suit the bar," spencer grumbles quietly, still upset that he has to show up. he's not a bar man. more of a picnic or joinery kind of guy.

"you weren't born to suit whenever you're going," you say and then grab his hand. "we're gonna be late."

***

spencer gets even more grumbly when you both enters the bar, but you know in his heart he's extremely happy. he practically lights up when he sees his team crowding at a booth, dragging you along by the arm. he says hi to everyone, immediately comfortable just from the presence of his team except his excitement isn't mutual. the team isn't looking at him, but at you.

goggling like an eagle, some might say. you elbow spencer in the ribs. spencer looks at you questioningly, as if he doesn't know what to do.

"introduce me," you urge, feeling more awkward by the second. a man staring at you with his jaw on the table, beer frozen halfway to his lips you assume is morgan has a terrified look on his face. everyone does, actually.

"oh yeah. sorry," spencer says, ears turning slightly red but his beam is still bright. "everyone, this is yn. she's my girlfriend!"

"sweet mary jesus," morgan finally says. he breaks the ice, and the entire booth corrupts in excitement.

"reid, what are you doing? sit the lady down," jj scowl, scooting over and making space, squishing emily against her. spencer lets you slide in first, next to jj and he sits down after you, hand gentle at your waist. "why didn't you tell us?"

"well i tried to--"

"i really thought we had nothing to hide from each other. you know you could've trusted me with it!" garcia quips, her thick neon red earrings moving back and forth.

"i didn't do anything deliberate to hide it!" spencer defends himself snarkily.

"i couldn't deduce you had a girlfriend. i just thought someone who made you really happy started crashing at your place," hotch says, thoughtfully.

"let the girl talk," rossi rolls his eyes. spencer definitely captures their personalities well when he tells you stories about the bau, you recognize everyone just from a sentence. the table quiets and you can feel the warmness of eyes all on you.

"hi everyone," you could feel your cheeks getting warm from the attention. you wanted to make an impression, but it's hard. you go for the standard, "i've heard a lot about everybody."

"we would've loved to hear about you," garcia chirps. "but spencer is a very private soul. how long have you been together?"

the evening dissolves into small talk and teasing, and out of everyone in the bau, perhaps the one who's most shocked and proud of spencer is morgan. he sits back, arm tossed around garcia, admiring spencer like a pleased older brother seeing his baby brother ask for his car keys to take his new girlfriend out on a date. hotch has the same expression on his face, one of a proud dad.

he knew that something had been keeping spencer extra upbeat than usual, the lack of eye bags and how he's always energized and better put together. hotch couldn't place a figure on what it was, but now he realizes it was you. spencer almost glows, basking in the shower of your presence and hotch knows that under the table you and spencer are probably doing something cringy like rubbing circle-eights into each other's knees or holding hands under the table. the same thing he did when he was hopelessly in honeymoon love.

the entire table are happy for the both of you, but there's probably isn't anyone in the club more happy than spencer. he is lovesick and you're so beautiful, he can't help it. he feels more comfortable than he ever had been in a club, and that encourage him to knock more drinks down, have a little more fun.

"i'll grab the next round," you say, noticing that the beers in everyone's hands are getting lukewarm. you press a hand against spencer's thigh as you get up. spencer looks up at you, eyes wide and sweet. "i'll be right back."

as soon as you absorb into the crowd, the entire table startles in cheers and whistles. spencer glows red, partly from the alcohol. mostly from the attention. "my man!" morgan praises, knocking a punch into spencer's shoulder.

"ow!"

"she's beautiful," jj says approvingly. "she knows how to dress."

"i'm sayin'!" despite how much he denies it, derek is a horrible lightweight. he slurs. "how the hell did you bag her? tell us your secrets."

spencer blushes like a newly courted bride, going magenta all over.

"okay stop bullying the kid," emily says, but she's grinning wide.

"he definitely likes it," garcia giggles, pressed flat against morgan.

when you return, beers in your hand, the entire booth are giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls and your boyfriend is rambling, on and on. "sorry i took a while," you say, and within a flash everyone's grabbed beers for themselves, knocking the caps over. it's reached that point of the night when everyone's breath smells of beer, and the music is extra loud and everyone's extra dizzy. spencer latches onto you immediately the moment you sit down, staring at you with fucking moons in his eyes.

"i was just talking about you," he says, pupils wide. you know your boy is beyond drunk.

"yeah?" spencer nods. "what about?"

spencer hiccups and forgets the question. "wanna dance?"

a small smile creep on your face. it's unusual for spencer to ask, usually he doesn't even want to witness the act of people dancing together at all. "you sure?" you lock an arm around him. no one pays attention to the two of you, lost in their own conservations. spencer nods again.

"can we dance? let's go," he makes to move, pouting his lips but you slither your arms all over him, trapping him into you. "y/nnn," he whines.

"stay put for a bit for me okay?” you murmur, trying to distract him from the dancefloor.

it’s not like you oppose to dancing. hell, you love dancing, but ever since you stood up to grab the table drinks, you notice unwanted eyes across the bar glued on your boy, women with sharp eyebrows and pointy chins and short dresses, and you can never help the awful feeling that coils in your stomach.

jealousy is an irritating feeling to feel, and it’s telling you to dig your teeth into his neck and mark him all over for everyone to see and look away. but you won’t do that, because you have a slightest drops of decency you have saved up, and the least you can do is pamper spencer with kisses and grab onto his hand so tight he’d think of you instead of the inviting dancefloor.

spencer falls for it immediately, returning your kisses and whining pathetically against your lips, the alcohol making his head spin. spencer ‘s never been a fan of pda but he couldn’t careless now, hanging on you like a cat, dancefloor forgotten. you smile against his lips.

victory.

#spencer reid #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler #mgg #my works

[avis-writeshq]

heyyy omg I love your writings so much! congrats on your latest milestone, it's DESERVED 👏 can I pls request track one with spencer reid where he gets an epiphany and decides that he wants to propose to his girlfriend? just superrrr cute and fluffy 😍 thanks a lot!!

glue song – spencer reid

summary: “but you’re here, and so i love you.” in which spencer realises that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. pairing: s5!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: spencer in a knee brace (tell me why that’s attractive. why does he look good at his worst. face card never declines), he’s genuinely obsessed with you, not proof read oops a/n: thank you so much anon !!!! i’m so sorry it took so long to post; i kept changing and editing it hahaha i hope you enjoy it !! wc: 1.05k

“Careful watch your– no, pivot a little, pivot–” 

“I am pivoting! There’s nowhere to pivot to! Why is it so messy?”

You suppress a grimace as you manage to somehow squeeze your way through Spencer’s tiny doorway and into his apartment, the shoe rack on the side dangerously close to his damaged knee. You stumble a little as Spencer grips your shoulders tightly for support, his other hand holding onto a crutch. 

“Maybe we should move into a bigger apartment,” you muse, helping him to the couch. Your gaze shifts to his injured knee, your face falling. “Does it hurt?”

“Only when I think about it. Which is pretty much all the time,” Spencer says, wincing as he finally collapses against the cool leather cushions. “Thank you for doing this.”

You look almost offended at his words as you brush his hair out of his face and into a makeshift ponytail. “Did you think that I wouldn’t?”

He hums as he feels the way your fingers pull lightly at his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp. “Thought you’d get tired of me. After, you know, everything.”

“None of that was your fault,” you remind him swiftly. “This–” you gesture to his knee– “isn’t either.”

He softens, leaning his cheek on your shoulder. You’ve been there for him through everything and he knows what specifically it is you’re referring to. He could see it from the moment his doctors informed you that he wouldn’t take the vicodin they had prescribed to him to soothe his discomfort. His thought process makes sense; he didn’t want to risk it. Regardless, he was left with a growing pain in his leg that didn’t shake even after taking toradol. 

“I’d never get tired of you,” you clarify, squeezing his hands. “You’re too pretty to get tired of.”

He lets out a proper laugh as he squeezes back. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being serious!”

He laughs again, shaking his head adamantly. “Liar.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

Spencer beams in your direction, pressing kisses against the soft of your jaw. “You’re right.”

A triumphant smile spreads across your face at his words. “Exactly.”

*** 

From his spot on the couch, Spencer watches guiltily as you hustle and bustle about in the kitchen, grabbing plates and filling them to the brim with the food you ordered from the Chinese place he loves. He feels bad seeing you work so hard looking after him; especially when you have your own workload to take care of. He doesn’t even notice that you’ve already placed his portion of food in front of him until you whack him lightly on his head with some napkins. 

“Stop it. I know what you’re thinking.” You shoot him a half-hearted glare as you snap open your chopsticks. “I want to do this. I truly don’t mind.”

“You’re already doing so much,” he insists, “I’m okay, angel, I swear.”

You are not easily convinced and you point to the list of things the doctor suggested you to do in order to ensure Spencer’s speedy recovery. “I have a responsibility, Walter. What will your team do without you?”

“They’ll live,” he assures, reaching a hand out to massage the muscles by your shoulders. “I think you’ve seen me naked more the past two weeks than you have our entire relationship.”

“Well it’s not my fault that you need to bathe,” you argue, stabbing at your noodles. “You love it really.”

His cheeks burn with embarrassment at the accusation. “I do not! It’s humiliating.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you soothe, smiling at him. “Besides, it’ll only be like this for a little while longer.”

“If you consider five months to be ‘a little while longer’,” he quips as he shovels food into his mouth.

You let out a laugh, not finding offence is his sarcastic blow. He thinks you’re a blessing and he figures that you definitely are. Who else can deal with the problems of him being, well, him aside from you? Spencer doesn’t know what he would do without you. How could he when you manage to push all the darkness and negativity away?

“I’m lucky to have you,” he says finally, his gaze on your face. “You’re so good to me.”

You hum in response, wiping your mouth and curling into his good side, draping an arm over his middle. “That’s true. You’re good to me, too.”

He brings his hand over your waist and kisses the side of your face in an act of reciprocation. “You’re beautiful.”

Heat crawls up your neck to your ears at the sudden compliment and you can’t help the silly bashful smile that pulls at your lips. Your mouth opens and closes, deciding on what to respond with before you settle with a simple, “Thank you.”

It’s the honest truth. There’s a look about you that tells him that you don’t believe it, but he doesn’t say anything more to try and convince you. He tells it to you everyday; he’s sure that you’ll end up accepting the compliments more readily. Your being beautiful might have been what had drawn him to you in the first place. Although he isn’t entirely sure. He recalls a certain folktale about invisible stings and how it was tying him to you. There’s something pretty about that thought, the mere idea that you were made for him and he was lucky enough to actually hold you in his arms. 

You’ve turned the television on now, a romance movie playing on the screen with familiar actors. It’s supposed to be a comedy, at least that was what the description on the DVD said, about the main male lead reminiscing about his year that he spent with some manic pixie dream girl. Spencer doesn’t understand how that could be comedic but you seem to enjoy it. 

Spencer has tuned out the movie now, finding entertainment in the reactions you have. Your face morphs into different emotions with each dramatic scene and in that moment Spencer realises one very important thing. 

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. 

“What was that?” you ask obliviously and you lift your eyes to look up at him. 

“Nothing,” he dismisses, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Just keep watching the movie, angel.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

events page

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x reader angst #criminal minds fluff #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler x reader fluff #matthew gray gubler angst #matthew gray gubler x reader angst #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg x reader fluff #mgg x reader angst

[arkhamknightz]

TOLERATE IT

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary; in which, spencer starts to get distant from you, and all you can do is sit and wonder why - part 2

warnings: age gap (just a few years, not specified but mentions of him being older) no happy ending, lots of angst, reader is angry and i mean very angry reader, sad spencer at the end, spencer before prison

notes: criminal minds obsession comes back every year and its on its annual visit rn! anyways I know reader kinda goes after him in their fight but I’m venting. i’m open to writing a part 2 with a happy ending if anyone wants it!

You sat on the other end of the couch while Spencer sat with his legs up reading a book, a small frown on your face as you watched him. He had suddenly become distant in the last few weeks. You had passed it off as a rough case, but usually his odd behavior never lasted this long.

You had asked the team if he had been doing alright, but to them nothing had been out of the ordinary, he was still the same Spencer at work that he always was.

You woke up next to him the morning after, and sat and watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful, but you couldn’t help but notice you didn’t wake up with your head on his chest or with his arms wrapped around your waist like you did before.

You sat and watched him for a while, savoring the morning. You knew things weren’t gonna be as peaceful when he woke up. He stopped waking up early to read to you at the kitchen counter while you made him a coffee before work, and he stopped rambling to you when he got back.

He stopped doing all the little things you loved, but you patiently waited for him. You waited for things to go back to normal and for him to stop treating you like you were some ghost in the house. It never happened. He started going to bed earlier, leaving the house later, avoiding your questions about what was going on with him. He stopped holding you at night and started facing away from you.

You laid on your back, facing up towards the ceiling. A million thoughts swarmed through your head at once. It wasn’t a secret Spencer was older than you. But had that started to bother him? He was much wiser than you were, even despite the fact he was a genius. Had you become too needy? Had something happened at work that none of them thought was appropriate to tell you about?

Spencer always told you when he was coming back from a case. He would always give you little details, not commenting much on the contents of it. He liked to keep you away from the horrors of his work, not wanting to subject you to such things. You would wait by the door and as soon as you heard the knob turn your face would light up like a kids in a candy store.

You stopped waiting for him. He stopped telling you when he was coming home. You turned your head, seeing he was still asleep. A small tear rolled down your cheek and you got up out of bed before getting changed and leaving the house. You walked to the small book store the both of you had met in, and you sat by the window.

You had put in effort to spend time with him, laying the table with your best dishes, his favorite food, but he brushed it off claiming he ate with the team. You made efforts to get him new books, make him coffee in the mornings before work, do his laundry and so forth. He never addressed it, never a thank you, you could hardly even remember the last time he said he loved you.

You thought it was all in your head, that maybe you had read things wrong and he was just having a really rough time. But his hard exterior hadn’t faltered in a while. Usually he was able to brush things off, talk to you after a few days and things would be okay. But there was this unsettling feeling in your chest, an ache. Things didn’t seem like they were gonna be okay.

You picked up a book off the coffee table of the bookstore. It was one of his favorites. You looked at the cover with a sad smile on your face. You used to greet him at the door like he had been gone for months, a hug and dinner waiting for him inside.

Now all that’s left were snarky comments when he got home, a bitter attitude and grumbles under his breath when you tried to talk to him. You sat and listened while he would poke at you after a long day, passive aggressive comments flying out of his mouth as you did dishes.

All you could do was just sit and listen. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t pull yourself away from your activities to be upset with him. You found yourself giving him the benefit of the doubt and more often making excuses for his behavior rather than addressing it to him directly.

It was getting a bit dark outside, the sun was starting to set and so you left the bookstore, the memories floating through the air as you left the shop. It felt like you left part of yourself in there somehow, you walked into the door of your shared apartment, dread seemingly started to fill your body.

“Where were you?” He spoke, his voice was quiet but you could tell he wasn’t happy. It wasn’t worry either, you know what he sounded like when he was worried. “I went out.” You put your keys down and walked past him, he turned around. “For hours? I woke up and no note, no texts, no calls, nothing.” You scoffed. “So you can do it but suddenly when I leave without saying something I’m the bad guy?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You shook your head. “You know what that means Spencer. Don’t sit and play dumb with me.” You looked over at him as he rolled his eyes. “Its my job.” “You know what else your job is?” He looked at you, waiting for you to continue. “To actually fill your title as my boyfriend. You stopped telling me when you’re coming home, you stopped talking to me completely. I feel like a ghost in this stupid apartment Spencer!”

You laughed bitterly. “I mean come on, why do you care I was gone for so long? You can hardly keep eye contact with me anymore. Why’s me leaving the house any different huh? Like I leave you alone all day by my OWN choice this time and you still find a reason to be mad?” Spencer furrowed his brows at you.

“Are you kidding m-“ you slammed your hands on the table, eyes brimming with tears. “No! No I’m not fucking kidding. Why act like you suddenly care about where I was when you’re the one pushing me away? Mind you, you didn’t make any effort to ask me where I was all day anyways. My phones been on the whole day so don’t even make some excuse that you called or texted me and I didn’t respond. So don’t sit and fucking ask me if im kidding.”

He seemed surprised by your outburst. But oh you weren’t done with him. “I mean come on? ‘Are you kidding’ like do you hear yourself? Spencer I have been nothing but patient with you for the last what, 2 almost 3 months? What happened to the man who would throw blankets over barbed wire hmm? What happened to him? Because you’ve done nothing but avoid me and shut me out. You’ve barely spoken 5 whole sentences to me in the last 2 weeks! Two!”

Spencer interrupted you. “For the love of god can you stop talking!” Tears of frustration were falling down your face. “No! No you don’t get to do this to me. I have spent so long giving you nothing but love for you to turn around and shut me out completely. I’m practically begging for you to even pay attention to me for more than 3 seconds. So what is it hmm? Did I start taking up too much space and time in your life? Because clearly it’s not work. I’ve asked repeatedly if something had gone on that I didn’t know about and they said you were acting fine so what is it?”

He said nothing and you scoffed. You walked away and went into your shared bedroom before grabbing a suitcase and shoving clothes in. He followed in behind you, seeming panicked. “What are you doing? No no stop packing talk to me please.” You shook your head. “I did. You said nothing.” He shut your suitcase and spoke, his voice cracking. “Please we can talk about this.”

That only made you angrier. “Talk about this? Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve had 3 months to talk to me about whatever’s bothering you and you still haven’t. I’ve tried my best I really have and that’s not enough for you apparently. I know you hear me crying at night. You’re a god damned profiler for crying out loud and you didn’t notice I’ve been trying to hold myself together in hopes you decide to care about me again?”

“I do care.” You opened back up your suitcase and stuffed in more clothes. “You didn’t think I’d leave? Spencer I love you but I’m not putting myself through this. When’s the last time you said that to me hmm?” He shamefully spoke. “2 months, 3 weeks and 5 days ago.” “Exactly my point.”

You went into the bathroom, Spencer pleading in the other room. You walked out with your stuff and put them in a backpack before gathering any other items you wanted to take with you. “I know my love should be celebrated. But all you do is sit there and tolerate it. I know I deserve better than to be shut out by you, I’ve tried my best to be patient, I really have. When you decide that you’re done dealing with whatever’s going on that you won’t tell me about, or you decide to let me back in call me. Otherwise don’t bother reaching out.”

“Where are you going?” He looked at you with tears in his eyes, voice shaking. “To stay with a friend. I love you Spencer, I really do. More than anything. But I won’t wait in this house any longer. Not when all you’ve done is shoot snarky comments at me when I’ve done nothing but care for you. I wont.”

You grabbed your bag and walked out the apartment. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you heard the door open back up. Not bothering to turn around. Spencer sat there and watched you walk into the elevator. A small whisper of his voice. “I’m sorry.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler angst #spencer reid #spencer reid taylor swift #tolerate it #evermore #taylor swift songfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst

[uranometrias]

✮ꜜ : ❛ guilt's a motherfucker : spencer reid x fem! reader

pairing: spencer reid x bau! reader

summary: denial was an art, especially in a field like the one that you worked in. as a profiler, it was almost impossible for anyone to pull the wool over your eyes. you'd spent enough time with your team to know that this gift, this specific sort of perception was not something you were immune to either. meaning, no matter how much you tried to keep things a secret, someone on your team was bound to read right through you. especially spencer. 🔱 ━━ alternatively: the one where your inability to say what you want leads spencer to accept the affections of someone else.

content warnings: i think this could be considered angst . spencer reid having a crush on reader. reader being jealous of spencer getting attention from someone else. cute friendship between derek+ emily + reader. reader is the youngest on the team. set in s6, pre- jj’s departure.

────────────────────────

“You doing alright, babygirl?” Derek’s voice isn’t hard to miss, and the obvious smugness that was attached made your eyes roll. You knew from the moment that you’d leaned forward in your chair, lips pulling down into a deep pout that someone would clock you and quite quickly put two and two together. You didn’t mean to be obvious, in fact, usually you did a much better job at keeping your cool. However, there was something glaringly different today.

Spencer had gone for a new look, you remembered the day he walked in with his hair freshly cropped, shoulder-length tresses replaced with what Hotch had affectionately referred to as "boy band" hair. The rest of the team had laughed, you'd even cutely hid your own snicker behind your hand, but you couldn't deny that it fit him. It was flattering, dare you say cute as hell. In the weeks that followed though, he'd went even shorter, gone were all traces of boy band.

The look he sported now was distracting, incredibly so. He looked good, and it seemed you weren't the only that seemed to notice.

"She's eating him with her eyes." you grumble, arms crossing as Derek comes up behind you. He's got his chin pressed to your shoulder, following your line of sight, as a boisterous laugh escapes him. "It's not funny, Derek." this hiss of yours only seems to fuel his amusement as he starts to chuckle even louder.

"You've been mean mugging that girl since she walked in this morning." Derek rounds your desk now, obstructing your view of the betrayal taking place across the bullpen. It was a slow day, a good day. No cases, but loads of paperwork. Your desk was covered in nothing but files, some you'd started, some you'd finished. You're still cross, but you allow yourself to look up at your long time friend.

"I'm not mean mugging." you huff, blinking slow as you think over your clear fib. "There's just something in my eye." you whisper, and it's not convincing. You can tell by the way Derek's bag chuckling.

"Yeah, a green monster." he retorts quickly, and you can't deny the way it catches you off guard, as a choked laugh at your own expense escapes you. "Jealousy's not a good look on you, little bit." he hums and you droop, because of course you know that. "Why don't you just talk to the guy? Look him in the eye and tell him straight up how you're feeling?" he asks, and despite all his jokes and quips, Derek Morgan was perceptive, and he cared about you.

"That's a horrible idea." you exclaim, and your entire body jerks back, recoiling as if you'd been stung. "God, aren't you supposed to be some kind of smooth criminal?" your eyebrows quirk upward, "What type of advice is that?" you proceed, and Derek's bemused, looking down at you as he waits for you to finish your spiel.

"Just tell him straight up how you feel?" you deepen your voice to mock his, "Why don't I just run around the bullpen in underwear too, since we're doing dumb things." you huff, and your dramatics are amusing. They always have been. You'd been a member of the team going on two years, and you'd made a mark so deep it almost felt like you'd always been a part of the Unit.

You were a stark contrast to Emily and JJ, and a complete 180 from the angsty bombshell that had been Elle Greenaway. You were a wide-eyed 20-something year old that still had so much light behind your eyes, and a hope that you wouldn't shake. You had a way of making everyone laugh. You could pull anyone out of their heads, even Hotch, who Derek had caught many times fighting back small content smizes as you took the team's mind off the gore of the job.

"That's one way to get attention." he hums, and you huff again.

"Derek, you're not being helpful. If you're just here to laugh at my misery, I'm gonna start rethinking your place in my life." you hum, and you lean forward, chin resting against your palms. Derek appraises you, head tipping to the side as he offers you a charming grin.

"All I'm saying is, you've been crushing on the kid since you got here." he reminds you, and your frown deepens. "And the world wont be blind forever." he mumbles, and you know what he means. Spencer Reid to you had always been the most beautiful guy, but he'd been buried under mountains of trauma and insecurities that he had never been able to accept that. With time though, Spencer had begun to blossom, and this new haircut seemed to be a testament of this.

He was coming into himself, there was a new confidence budding in his steps, less stammers between phrases, and you didn't really have to fight for eye contact much anymore. He was still Spence, and in his words, he was far from an Alpha Male, but he could be. And he would be, you just knew it. Which meant that the more confident he became, the more women would see him the way you saw him. Damn. Derek sees the way the cogs in your mind move, and he sighs.

"Take it from someone who's been around-." you can't help but to insert with your own little quip. "What are you calling yourself a dog?" you tease, and his eyes roll, but he still grins wide.

"Listen." he stretches the word a bit, and he's looking you right in the eye. You can see sympathy swirling through the pretty pools of brown, and you believe that maybe if you were a bit older, and had met Derek first, you'd be swooning for him the way you were swooning for Spencer. You shake these thoughts of his beauty away, as you give him the space to speak freely. "I know what it's like to miss a window." he reminds you. "Rejection's a bitch." he adds.

True. It was precisely why you'd never bothered to say anything to Spencer. You got through life by pretending things were fine, by making a joke out of the hard stuff. You wouldn't be able to handle opening your heart to someone, and being told 'No'. That you weren't good enough, that you weren't what they needed. Maybe that was selfish, rejection was a part of life. It was necessary, but still. You'd rather deal with your unresolved issues alone. You saw no need to bring Spencer into conversations about your feelings for him at all.

"But guilt's a motherfucker." and Derek's words stop you short. You blink. What was worse? The sting that rejection could cause or the gaping hole that guilt would bring? The thought of getting an invite to a wedding day for a future Mr. and Mrs. Spencer Reid while you sitll held romantic feelings close to your chest made you want to vomit. Perhaps Derek had a point. At least if Spence turned you down with time the two of you could work around it, become friends again.

If you never said anything though, you'd have no right to be angry or hurt or jealous if some woman with much more confidence than you managed to swoop in and knock him off his feet Damn, you hated when Derek was right. His chuckle is what alerts you that your begrudging inner thoughts had been uttered aloud.

"What's Derek right about?" you smell the familiar scent of Prentiss' perfume before you see her face. It's subtle but comforting, and it makes you unconsciously relax in your seat. Derek's moving out of your line of sight, and you're met with the sight of Spencer still talking to the woman. She had a firm grip on a mug of coffee in one hand, her other hand leisurely tracing circles on Spencer's arms. You inhale sharply, swiveling in your seat as you turn to face Emily.

"Everything." Derek takes the swing, winking as you and Emily share a dry glance. He then subtly nods his head towards the woman crowding Spencer at the kitchenette and Emily's lips form a thin line of understanding. She turns to you, hand resting on your shoulder as she gives it a firm squeeze.

"Don't you think it's time to take a swing?" she offers, and you hate that immediately she falls into step with Derek. The duo forming a united front against you to ensure you put your big girl pants on and tell him the way you're feeling. "Here's an idea," And Emily's looking for a second to make sure Spencer is still too preoccupied to make his way over. "You've been trying to find someone to go with you to that new movie... what was it?" Emily snaps her fingers.

"Crash of the-" you cut her off with a deep sigh.

"Clash... it's Called Clash of the Titans." you mutter, and you pout. You had been trying to convince Emily, JJ, and Penelope to give the action film a shot. What could be better than watching Sam Worthington run across your scream for nearly two hours as you're transported to Ancient Greece? But, alas... the girls were far more interested in other things. In truth, they'd all agreed that they'd prefer to see something a little less packed with gore and violence.

Just for a change of pace.

You couldn't slight them for their polite rejection of your plans. The last case you'd been on had been especially taxing and nightmare inducing. "Why don't you ask him instead?" she hums, and you look over at the chatting duo, they'd really been talking for a while. There's this easygoing sort of look on Spencer's face, and the beauty across from him has turned about the same shade of red as the lipstick smeared across her full pout.

"Looks like she beat me to it." you mutter, and you think maybe God hates you, because as you let the words out, the girl is beaming even brighter, slipping something she'd written on a napkin into the palm of his hand. She offers a flirty wink before she's sashaying off, hips moving from side to side as she makes her way back to her own little cubby. "Ah well, who cares?" you try your hand at playing nonchalant. "It's not like I was in love with him or anything."

And the thing about Denial was that you'd spent so long making it your security blanket that you often forgot you were working with some of the most brilliant minds the FBI had ever produced.

Derek pats your shoulder, he's sympathetic to your plight. He was probably the only person you had been the most forthcoming with about these feelings you harbored. Emily frowns, and she offers you a side hug, chin resting on the top of your head. Their comfort makes you feel better, but the coil of feelings in your gut only seems to tighten. You wanted to be alone, you'd been perceived enough, if any of them pushed any further you may have broken into tears.

"I-I should get back to work." you mutter quietly, and they both know what you're doing. For once they resist the urge to comment, and they leave you be. Your desk was farthest away from the rest of the team. You and Hotch had agreed it was necessity. You could focus more when your back was to the rest of them. You let out a quiet sigh, fingers drumming against the table as you swallowed your emotions. You tiredly reach for an unfinished file, flipping it open.

Blurry words peer back at you, and you're shocked to realize that despite all your efforts you were still about to cry. Fuck.

You close your eyes, counting up to thirty in both english and spanish, by the time you'd finished breathing treinta under your breath, you had a new guest in front of you. Spencer stretched up for what felt like miles, his eyebrows furrowed as he stood before your desk with a look of confusion on his face. "Hey, are you alright?" he asks, and his voice always has this tenderness throughout.

"J-Just fine." and your stammer gives you away. Your voice is coated with mucus, a surefire signal that you were about a few seconds shy of having an immature meltdown. How silly of you to be this shaken up over the prospect of Spencer being with someone else. How dare you? You didn't even have the balls to admit that your playful flirting was just you overcompensating for the fact you couldn't do it foreal.

"I read somewhere that breathing exercises help you get through boring things." you motion to the file, and you've perfected your fake grin. Spencer doesn't look convinced, but he plays along.

"Oh, yeah? Where'd you read that?" he asks and you blanche.

"Uh. Just somewhere." you answer, and he's raised both his eyebrows. You recover quickly, clearing your throat. "You've replaced me, huh?" you ask, and you're playing it off like one of your jokes. Spencer looks shocked for a second, before he tips his head to the side as he looks down at you as if you were the most important thing in his world. If only.

"What do you mean?" he pries, and you motion with your head to the coffee station.

"Found another pretty girl to boost your head up, huh?" you mutter, and there's this flash. Something you can't quite catch, mostly because you're not in the mood to profile and analyze what all his facial expressions meant now. "You guys looked like you were having a good time." you add, and you hope you don't sound bitter. Jealousy or not, if Spencer was happy, you'd be happy too. You'd try.

"Yeah." he replies, and his face is turning red. "S-She was just being nice." he answers, and you hate that the first thing you notice is how he hasn't said 'No, I haven't replaced you.' You sour all the more.

"That's nice, Spence." you hum, and it's clear you've now become uninterested. So much for trying.

Still, Spencer was nothing if not selectively oblivious. You guys had been playing this game for almost a year, he wasn't going to make it easy for you to cop out and make him the bad guy. "She actually asked me to go see-" the rest of his joy-ridden words are mush in your head, and you can imagine how unamused you looked as you half-listened to him go on about how they were going out Saturday.

Yippee.

You don't mean to be rude, not really. But you couldn't bring yourself to listen to anymore. "Congratulations, Spencer." you cut him off abruptly. "But I've got to finish this, so if you could just-" and you're ushering him off as he stares at you aghast.

"What's your problem?" he pries, and you blink owlishly.

"Nothing." you insist, and you look over your shoulder. The team was not-so-subtly watching the exchange. Typical.

"I find that hard to believe." Spencer retorts, and he's got this unimpressed look on his face, like he knows something you don't. His genius has never irked you before, but right now it just makes you feel more perceived. Like he knew how you felt and was rubbing this all in your face. He couldn't possibly be that cruel though, right?

"Well that's not really my problem is it?" you snap, and Spencer's reaction is instantaneous. His scoff rings in your ears.

"Yeah, actually it is." he shoots back, and you rear back in surprise. What was that supposed to mean. "You know this is getting really old." and your strangled gasp escapes you before you can stop it.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you narrow your eyes as you set your glare on him. He's got his own challenging sort of glance on his face, almost like he's daring you to keep playing dumb. You will. If only to push him to spit out whatever was so clearly sitting on the tip of his tongue. "Go on. Please tell me, Mr. All knowing." you press and his eyes roll. You look like a perturbed toddler ready to fling yourself on the ground and scream.

"Grow up." is all he says, and it slices you clean in half. "If you're gonna play the role of the jealous little girl, at least respect me enough to not play dumb about it when you're caught." and then he's leaving you sitting at your desk, and you're gawking.

Fuck.

#spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid au #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg imagines

[wrenreid]

Just Acting

18+ story | all chapters in master list

Chapter Fourteen

After filming today, you and Matthew are going to hang out. And you're so looking forward to it!

Delilah rests her head on Spencer's chest as they watched tv on the couch. It's the weekend, Delilah took a day off and Spencer wasn't called in for a case. Instead of going on a date, the two decided to stay in and just enjoy each other's company.

Delilah pushed herself off of Spencer with her hand on his chest. She sat back on her knees staring down at him.

"What?" Spencer asks, looking up to her.

"You're so pretty," she says.

"Thank you?" He furrows his brows with a smile.

"You're very welcome,” Delilah grins proudly.

"Come here, beautiful." He says, opening his arms back for her to lay back down. She obliges, laying her head on Spencer's chest after giving him a soft kiss on his mouth.

____

You go home before anyone else since you don't have anymore scenes for the day. You stop by Dunkin to get a coffee, and sadly see that Jess is off today. You head back to your apartment.

When you get home, you plop down on the couch dreading the night ahead of you. It's around 4 o'clock in the afternoon when you get a text from Matthew saying he can't wait for tonight. The text is paired with two emojis, a smile and the eggplant. He’s so fucking weird.

You hang out around the apartment, watching tv, snacking a bit, and cleaning up, until around 6 when you decide to take a shower. You press play on your favorite playlist which consists of 90s R&B, modern day sad shit, and some random other songs.

You step into the shower, letting the water soak you. You wash your hair and body, shave a bit, wash your face, and step out to moisturize. While still wrapped in the towel, you apply product to your hair, scrunch it, and tie in up in a wrap.

Time to pick out an outfit. You slip on a pair of light blue underwear and a white bra, you couldn't find the matching set and quite frankly don’t care. No one will be seeing what’s underneath your clothes tonight anyway.

You rummage through your closet, searching for something decent to wear. You don't really know what you're doing for this "hanging out" shit, but you know you should probably dress... not in sweats. You grab a pair of black jeans from your dresser, a white t shirt with a floral design at the neckline, and a loose fitting bomber jacket. Just before doing your makeup, you slip into the jeans. You apply a light makeup look and take your hair out of the wrap, the light curls fall down nicely. You get dressed in the rest of your clothes and slip into a pair of white converse.

Matthew shows up not long after with a knock on your apartment door. "Ready for our date?" he leans against the door frame, almost stumbling over.

You roll your eyes. "Not a date." You grab your cross-body purse, and head out the door, not waiting for him.

"Definitely a date,” he says confidently.

"Not a date," you turn around, pointing your finger at him.

He puts his hands up in surrender, and the two of you head down to the parking lot. He opens the door for you, and you get into the passenger's seat.

"Well that was nice.”

"Yes. Spencer seems to be much nicer than I am,” Matthew winks while starting up the car.

"So where are we going?" You say when you get into the night traffic of Los Angeles.

"That’s a surprise.”

You look over to him. "Where?"

"Just to a little restaurant then we're going to watch a movie,” he tells you.

"What movie?"

"Damn can't you let anything be on the whim?"

"No,” you say frankly.

"Uptight," Matthew says under his breath.

"Say that again, and you won't have a tongue to say anything else."

"Feisty,” he says with a grin in your direction.

You watch his hands turn the steering wheel and turn into the parking lot of a small Japanese restaurant. You get out and follow him into the building.

He decides to sit at the bar, which you are perfectly fine with because you might need a strong one to get through the night.

Only a few other people are in the building, which is kind of good and kind of not good in case he makes you mad.

His knee brushes yours as he swivels in the high chair like a child. You order a water and try to decide what you want to eat. Since everything else seems kind of new and strange, you decide on vegetarian sushi. Matthew gets some dish that looks kind of good and off-putting at the same time.

"You two are a cute couple," the handsome japanese man behind the bar says to the two of you.

"O, we're not couple,” you tell him.

"Yes we are," Matthew says to the man.

"No we're not," you glare at him.

"Delilah and Spencer.”

"We're a couple," you turn to the man with an agitated smile.

"That's the spirit," Matthew grabs your hand.

"You're pushing it, Gubler,” you say through a gritted smile.

The two of you eat in silence for most of the dinner. You laugh as Matthew tries to eat with chopsticks.

"Okay! Let's go," Matthew hops out of his seat and offers his hand out to you. He'd paid the bill already.

You don't take his hand but get down from your chair. He walks out of the building, you trail behind.

The movie theater isn't too far away. When you get there, he asks the lady outside for two tickets to a movie you've never heard of.

"What's the movie about?”

"I don't know,” Matthew shrugs.

"You don't know?"

"C'mon, Delilah. Maybe it'll be good,” he grins softly.

You press your lips together with a sigh and follow him into the theater.

As the movie unfolds, you're face goes from expression to expression, mostly confusion and disgust.

Finally, the credits roll in, and Matthew looks down at you. "Let's go," he has a big smile on his face.

"What the fuck was that?" You ask, your eyebrows still knit with confusion. He laughs when you're on your way back to his car.

"I'm so confused! Were they aliens?” You ask again.

He laughs again, "I don't even know."

You chuckle. "I knew I should've picked out the movie."

"Yeah probably. I'm surprised you sat through that whole thing,” he says.

The two of you laugh as you get back into his car. He drives back to your apartment with music playing.

"You know that wasn't half bad," you admit at your door.

"The movie definitely was,” Matthew objects.

"Yes, yes it was," you chuckle.

"Goodnight, Y/n.”

You pull his head down to you and press your lips to his. When the kiss is over, he looks at you with wide eyes and a little smile.

"Goodnight, Gubler."

With that, he leaves down the hall, and you shut your apartment door. What. Just. Happened.

You just- why did you do that?

You plop down on your couch after taking off your jacket. You see you have a missed call and a message from Jordan.

"Hey, Y/n. I'm at your door. Surprise date!!"

Shit. What have you done?

——

"What the fuck did I do?” You pace back and forth in your apartment.

"I'm here! I'm here!" Your friend walks into your apartment.

"Oh thank God, Jess!!" You close the door quickly.

"What's wrong?"

"It's official. I'm a whore."

She bursts out with a laugh. "What?"

"So you know how I said the lake trip wasn't horrible, and how Matthew was alright for the most part. Well, we made out. On his bed. While I straddled him. And I'm like freaking out again because we hung out today for our job like I told you about. Anyway, I kissed him. I fucking kissed him before he left. Then I read this text from Jordan and I'm like what is wrong with me…”

"Y/n, slow down. You're talking faster than the Chipmunks,” she exclaims.

You take a breath. "Right. Sorry."

"Okay so you two made out?” Jess asks, her eyebrows raised.

You nod your head harshly.

"Then you kissed him tonight?"

You nod your head again, hating this clarifying questions.

"And the text from Jordan was?”

"He was being sweet. He wanted to take me on a surprise date."

"You hate surprises,” she says.

"I do, but it's the thought that counts."

Jess releases a chuckle. "So what are you going to do?"

"That's why I called you,” you tell her.

"Y/n, you're 33 years old. Be a big girl and break up with Jordan. I can tell you don't like him."

You sigh. "He's a really nice guy."

"But…”

"But he's too... I don't know. Not for me I guess,” you tell her.

"There ya go."

"I'll break up with him. Tomorrow,” you say.

"You go girl! Dump some ass!"

"Oh my god, don't say it like that!" Your palm meets your face.

She laughs again, and makes her way to your fridge.

____

Today's the day. You're going to do it. You're going to dump Jordan. How hard can this be? You haven't been together that long, and things haven’t been serious.

"Hey. I need to talk to you. Meet me at the cafe on Melrose." You press send with a sigh.

"Great! See you then:)"

Oh no.

You get ready in ripped jeans, a black crop top that kind of makes you think too hard about the pudge on your tummy, but it's the fit that matters, and a flannel over it. You slip on your white sneakers, grab your bag, and head out of your apartment.

"Hey, Y/n!" He gives you a hug and a kiss on the lips.

"Jordan, hey,” you say awkwardly.

"You needed to talk to me?"

"Yes I do... I don't think we should see each other any more.”

"What?"

"It's just not working out for me. You're a great guy, it's just- Are you crying?"

"No,” he says defensively.

"Your eyes are tearing up,” you say with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not crying."

"We were together a month.”

"I thought things were going good,” Jordan says.

"I'm sorry. I just don't want to be in a relationship I'm not invested in. You deserve better than that."

"Okay," he sighs, nodding.

"Goodbye, Jordan." You put your hand on his shoulder after you stand up.

"Bye, Y/n. And tell him."

"Hmm?"

"Tell him. There's someone else. I can tell."

You shake your head, then turn and walk out of the cafe. You make your way to set.

You rush to hair and makeup, knowing you're running behind. They straighten your hair and put on your usual Delilah makeup look.

You change into black jeans with a belt buckle showing through a mostly tucked in blouse underneath a loose fitting grey blazer jacket. You're wearing black heeled boots.

There's a few scenes to film today, a few including you.

mature content warning

____

"Marc is going to be watching over you guys for a while. If you have any questions, ask him or call me if it's an emergency." Delilah grabs her bag, and heads out of her building.

She drives her way to the Behavioral Analysis Unit where her boyfriend Spencer works. They've officially been calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend, and it feels so good to say the word even if labels don't really mean that much.

She reaches the floor, seeing everyone in the bullpen. Spencer said he'd just gotten home from a case a few hours ago and was doing paperwork. Delilah knew how fast he was at reading, so she figured he'd be done by now.

"What are you doing here?" He rises from his desk with a smile.

"You've been to my work, so I figured I'd visit you at yours." She'd had permission of course to be let up to the BAU's floor.

He wraps his arms around her. "Well, I appreciate it."

She gives him a kiss on the cheek. "Of course."

"Give me one moment, and I'll be able to leave."

Delilah nods her head. She waits for Spencer to return from his bosses office as she stands sort of awkwardly at his desk.

"So you're the girl that's been making genius smile all the damn time." Delilah turns around to see a muscular hispanic man. "I swear he's like a freaking puppy."

Delilah chuckles. "I'm Delilah." She shakes his hand.

"You're the girl from the case a few months ago!"

A thin blonde haired girl elbows the asian man in the side. "Nice to formally meet you, Delilah."

She smiles at them. "Nice to meet you guys again, under better circumstances."

Spencer comes back into the bullpen, and goes to Delilah's side.

"I knew there was someone ha!" JJ says.

"Yeah, yeah. You caught me." He smiles down at his girlfriend. "You ready to go?"

"No, stay. Talk a bit. Tell us secrets," the attractive male agent jokes.

Delilah gives them a wave goodbye, and Spencer leads her to the elevator.

___

"How's it going?"

"Well I just broke up with my boyfriend, so… fine actually.”

"I forgot you had a boyfriend," Matthew says bluntly.

"So did I apparently," you admit.

He laughs. "Wow."

"Hey, about last night..."

"I know. You didn't mean it,” he nods.

"I don't know,” you say, voice soft.

"What do you mean?”

"I don't know. I mean I literally can't stand you half the time, but for some reason it felt right."

"Thank you?" His eyebrows stitch together.

You chuckle a sigh, running your hand through your hair. "It's been one confusing week."

Matthew steps closer to you. "You could say that."

You stand there. Unable to move or say anything. You feel like you could reach your hand out and feel the tension.

He takes another step closer, his eyes appearing darker. ��Can I?"

You nod your head, chest feeling heavy. His hands cup your cheeks. Your eyes meet his light brown ones for a second before his mouth comes down on yours. It's gentle at first, but as your mouths move as one the heat burns up.

Soon enough, you're taking off his shirt as he unbuckles the belt on your waist. He breaks the kiss once more to remove the blouse from your body after the jacket comes off. You raise your arms, allowing him to pull the shirt up.

Matthew presses you up against the door of your trailer. One hand is on your waist, the other behind your neck, tangled in your hair. You reach behind you and lock the door. You move your hands to his hair, twirling his curls in your fingers as your lips and tongues move together in a burning sensation.

You shove him off of you and glare up at him. "Sit down."

He gives you a confused look, lips kiss-swollen.

"Sit."

He obliges with a sarcastic "Yes ma'am."

"If we're going to do this, I'm in charge,” you command.

He looks up at you with a look that can only mean he's turned on. You get on your knees in front of him. He's leaning against the couch, lying in wait of what you're going to do. You pull at his boxers, and he leans up, letting you take them off.

Before he can even make a sound, you're mouth is on his growing bulge. You hear Matthew take in a ragged breath. You bob your head, and after a moment, you stop. Completely stop with no explanation.

"You're evil," he says, breathing heavy.

You grin faintly, and hand him a condom you got from the drawer in your trailer.

You take your black underwear off and straddle his lap. You'll definitely regret this later, but for now it's just you and him. You come down on him, moving your hips back and forth gently and pacing up and down at the same time.

He throws his head back, his hands digging into your hips. The moment is kind of sloppy and fast, you don’t even kiss as you fuck him. After a while, your nails scratch at his shoulders as you finish.

You get off of him, and grab your clothes. You head to the bathroom, clean yourself off, and get dressed again. Your hair is a mess. After wiping under your eyes, you return to the room to see Matthew putting his shirt back on.

"Well,” you start, releasing an exasperated. “That was…”

"Something."

"Yes," you say. "Something."

"A good something,” Matthew says.

Your nod your head. You walk over to him, and fix his messy hair. He chuckles with a flushed face.

"What do we do now?" He asks, looking down at you.

"We move on with our lives," you say. "You should probably leave. We've both been away too long."

He nods, curly brown hair falling into his eyes. He looks out the window of your trailer, and once he knows the coast is clear, he leaves. You adjust the pillows on your couch where you and Matthew literally just did it.

This is so crazy. Never in a million years did you think you'd be in this position. You just had sex with the man who’s been the very person who pisses you off the post for months.

You hang Delilah's clothes up. You get out of your trailer, not talking to anyone as you head to your car and go home. You groan loudly as you grip onto the steering wheel.

fifteen

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @danis-stuff-is-here @kylakins88 @daydreamingqueen1 @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 <3

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #mgg x you #spencer reid #mgg fic #spencer reid smut #mgg angst #spencer reid and reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew grey gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler smut #mattew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x fem!readr #matthew gray gubler x fem!reader #matthew gray gubler angst #mgg fem!reader #mgg x y/n #mgg x reader #mgg fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #dilf spencerreid #spencer reid hands #spencer reid series #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff

[elenalolls]

I’ll Get By With You On My Mind — Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: What was supposed to be a simple check-in turned into an abduction where the team must find you.

Word Count: 1.4K+

Warning/s! — Kidnapping, guns, knives, violence. It’s Criminal Minds.

A/N: Hellur!

You.

Getting kidnapped and potentially tortured was definitely not on your 2024 bingo card, that much was for sure. But unfortunately, life has a way of surprising us when we least expected it.

So here you were, tied and strapped down to a wooden chair where a piece of wood struck out, poking your thigh. That ultimately keeping you from dozing off. Basically, it’s been a while since your abduction and quite frankly, you were tired.

Deciding to use your time wisely, you clamped your eyes shut, trying to perform a cognitive on yourself. What led you here? Or in this case, who.

The harder you tried to remember, the more gaps seemed to appear in your story. You were walking— no, you were running. Something had caught your attention, but what was it?

It had to have been a scream, sounds of a struggle, nothing else would have gotten your attention. That would cause you to rush towards the sound, sound, sound.

It was a scream.

“Agent Y/L/N. Glad to see you awake,” an unfamiliar (but confusingly familiar) voice started. Their— his heavy footsteps gradually becoming more louder the closer he got. “A shame it has to be you of all people, I’ve grown to like you.”

With furrowed eyebrows, you look over your shoulder before talking. “Do I know you?”

A laugh, deep and creepy. “‘Do I know you’, she asks. Of course you know me.”

“Come out into the light and I’ll see if I know you.” You replied, trying your best to seem unaffected, calm.

With a short scoff, you instinctively flinch as the chair you're tied to is abruptly turned around. The loud screech making you grimace.

Opening your eyes, you take in the man in-front of you. You did know him - he was the latest victims boyfriend. You felt your trembling hands ball into fists. You had been there for him, offering consolation and comfort, making it clear that you were there to support him through this difficult time. And to find out it was him all along? You were deceived and he was well aware of that.

He tilts his head, a sinister smirk plastered on his features. “Didn’t expect it to be me, did you?” Silence. “Didn’t think so, you must feel like such a fool.”

“You’re pathetic.” You spat, unable to stop those two words from leaving your lips.

Now, one thing you did expect was some sort of retaliation to your insult. That being his hand coming in contact with your face, knocking you out cold.

—

Spencer.

He ran a hand through his already tousled hair for what seemed like the millionth time, earning a concerned glance from Emily, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Reid, we’ll find her.”

"She shouldn't have gone alone," he muttered to no one in particular, as he walked over to the board displaying various details about the case.

“It was just supposed to be a simple check-in, none of us could’ve seen this coming—”

“Repeat what you just told me, Garcia.” JJ ordered, walking into the conference room. Placing her phone on the table so the others could hear.

“As you know, Jessica Woods had a boyfriend. Nothing skeptical about that, right? Well, you’re wrong. I was doing a background check, y’know, looking through records and whatnot, I found out her boyfriend, Sean, has a history of violence. He’s gotten into ten fights in the span of just this year. But! That’s not even the thing, he grew up in an abusive household, mother left, leaving a nine year old Sean behind in the process, and to make matters worse, he was deemed safe in his fathers care, things must’ve went downhill from there.”

Questioning furthermore, Emily asked, “Any updates on his father?”

“He worked at the grocery store Sean works at now—”

Spencer straightens. “Worked. Why past tense? What happened to him?”

“Hold on…” She trails off, the room filled with the sound of her keyboard, before she speaks again. “Oh. He, uh, died last week.”

“Right before the killings started,” JJ stated, “Let’s think about this, the victims were blonde, blue eyes, and all were in their thirties, we’ve already established that they were surrogates. What if they were surrogates for Sean’s mother? His father’s death could’ve brought back memories he didn’t want to remember which would’ve also inevitably led to him remembering how his mother practically abandoned him. And the only way to… release his pent-up anger was to find woman who resembled her and well, kill them.”

“But Jessica didn’t look like them at all? She was brunette and had brown eyes.” Emily went on, her brows knitting together. “Not only that, but she was in her mid-twenties.”

“She probably found out what he was doing, she wasn’t apart of the plan.” Reid voiced, “Garcia—”

“Address has already been sent to your phones. Stay safe,” and with that, the line goes dead.

“JJ, take Morgan with you. I’ll send in more backup. Reid, you’ll stay with me—“ her words come to a halt when she notices him already rushing out of the room.

He's already in the car, equipping his bulletproof vest by the time JJ and Morgan get in. Morgan then starts the car, turns on the sirens, and speeds towards the address Garcia sent.

It took ten minutes for them to arrive. Spencer quickly jumping out of the car before it even has a chance to stop. He hurries towards the house, glancing back at Morgan, who raises a hand to signal him to wait.

His jaw tightens as he complies, but the moment he hears your pained cry, worry floods over him. And Reid doesn't need to say a word for Morgan to understand they need to hurry.

So without a second to spare, Morgan kicks the door open. “Sean Walker, FBI.”

Spencer follows suit quickly after him, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of a knife being held to your throat. “Make any sudden movements and she’s dead.”

Not answering, Morgan’s eyes focus on something behind him. “Okay, okay. Look, I’m leaving. See?” He says, slowly backing up and out the door.

“God— what kind of FBI agents are you? Leaving a clearly armed suspect with one of your own?” He questioned out loud, pressing the knife harder against your skin, eliciting a whimper, his attention turning to you. “Do you understand how easy it was to lure her out? All it took was a recording of someone screaming and she came running right to me.”

“You’re right,” Spencer nodded, keeping his gun trained on the boy in front of him. “What kind of FBI agent falls for the easiest trick in the handbook.”

“Oh, please. Just stop,” He glares, “I know what you people do. You try to make me trust you, try to make it seem like you think like me. Because I can assure you, you don’t.”

“We think exactly like you, how do you think we found you?” Spencer pushed, his attention subtly drawn to Morgan's presence at the open window behind him. Making every effort to enter through it quietly, “Sean, we know what your father did, why your mother left.”

“And what exactly did my father do besides teach me to become the man I am today? My father did that, my mother didn’t. She was weak.“

“If you hated her so much, why kill four innocent woman including your girlfriend because of her?” He inquired, tone stern.

Sean’s expression falters at the mention of his girlfriend, making him tighten his hold around you. “Shut up.”

Noticing his sudden change in demeanor, Reid continues, “You loved her.” He acknowledged, “And yet you killed her, you loved her and then ended her lif—”

With a menacing scowl, he raises the knife, about to speak when Morgan swiftly intervenes, grabbing his arms and forcefully pushing him against the wall. In the chaos that ensues, you crumble to the floor, prompting Spencer to rush towards you.

“Y/N—”

“Untie me, please, get them off.” You cried, referring to the ropes that bound your wrists.

He wastes no time and quickly follows through. Once they’re off, you throw your arms around him. He’s caught off-guard by your sudden embrace, but he welcomes it nonetheless. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

You don't respond to his comforting words, only repeating the same five words, "I knew you'd find me." In response, he tightens his grip around you and gently lifts you up, guiding you towards the waiting ambulance where you'll receive the care you need.

DT(s) — @bellelovesmen ! ౨ৎ

#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds angst #ssa spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #angst with a happy ending #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #oneshot #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #fanfic #spencer reid one shot #female reader #fem!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #ssa spencer reid x fem!reader #dr spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid oneshot #dating #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds spencer reid #jilval #heaven - clairo

[godsfavdarling]

How could you?

my masterlist, part 2

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (established relationship)

words: 2,3k

summary: You go to Spencer's apartment, only to witness a shocking betrayal that shatters your world.

warnings: angst, hurt, spoilers for season 15!

a/n: this was one of the ideas for the later chapters of my full story 'Keep Holding On' (completed and available here), but there wasn't really a place for it. so, I decided to just make it into a one-shot with a gender-neutral reader!

You and Spencer have been together for a few years now, your relationship a patchwork of late-night conversations, lazy weekends spent on a couch with books, and long nights in each other's arms.

Although his job isn't easy and you don't get him to yourself as much as you'd like to, you wouldn't change a thing. He and the love you share mean everything to you.

In the quiet moments when you're alone, you find yourself marveling at how unexpected and yet perfectly fitting your love story is. You never thought this could happen to you. 

You never let yourself believe that there would be a man like Spencer loving you and accepting every fiber of your being.

Spencer's presence in your life is like a gentle breeze on a hot summer's day, soothing and comforting. His unwavering support and understanding make even the toughest days bearable. And when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, you feel a sense of belonging that you've never known before.

You cherish the simple moments shared over cups of coffee in the morning or stolen kisses in the middle of the day. In Spencer's eyes, you see a reflection of your own hopes and dreams, and in his laughter, you find the melody of your heart's desires.

As you drift off to sleep each night, nestled in Spencer's embrace, you offer a silent prayer of gratitude for the love that fills your days and the warmth that fills your heart. 

In him, you've found not just a partner, but a kindred spirit, a soulmate who completes you in ways you never knew were possible. And for that, you will always be thankful.

There's an unspoken language that exists only between you and Spencer. It's a language of love, trust, and understanding that transcends words.

You marvel at how effortlessly Spencer seems to know what you need, even before you do. His intuition is uncanny, his gestures of affection tender and sincere. 

Whether it's a simple touch on the small of your back as he passes by or a reassuring squeeze of your hand when you're feeling uncertain, Spencer has an innate ability to make everything feel right.

You trust him with your deepest fears, your wildest dreams, and every fragile piece of your heart.

In his arms, you find sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world, a safe harbor where you can be your truest self without fear of judgment or rejection.

And as you navigate the challenges of life together, you're constantly reminded of just how perfect Spencer is in your eyes. His kindness knows no bounds, his patience infinite. 

But it's not just his virtues that make him perfect; it's the way he loves you, wholly and unconditionally. In Spencer, you've found a partner who sees you for who you truly are, flaws and all, and loves you all the more fiercely because of them.

Now as you climb the stairs to Spencer's apartment, your heart flutters. Spencer has just started his 30 days of obligatory sabbatical, and you're looking forward to spending more time together now that his only obligation is his teaching job. You've picked up takeout on the way, eager to share a quiet evening together.

But as you open the door, your excitement turns to shock and disbelief.

There, before you, is Spencer, locked in a passionate embrace with JJ. Her hands are cupping his cheeks, their lips pressed together in a kiss that sends a jolt of pain through your chest.

Time seems to stand still as the bags of food slip from your fingers, crashing to the floor with a dull thud. You can't tear your eyes away from the scene before you, the weight of betrayal crushing down on you like a ton of bricks.

A thousand thoughts race through your mind, each one more painful than the last.

How could Spencer do this to you? How long has this been going on? And most importantly, how could you have been so blind to the truth?

Your heart feels like it's been ripped from your chest, shattered into a million pieces by the revelation before you. The love and trust you once shared with Spencer now lay in ruins at your feet, leaving you feeling empty and alone in a world that suddenly seems cold and indifferent.

As Spencer and JJ finally break apart, their eyes widening in shock at your sudden appearance, you feel a surge of anger rising within you. But beneath the anger lies a deep well of hurt and sadness, a pain that cuts to the very core of your being.

Without a word, you turn on your heel and flee from the apartment, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggle to make sense of the betrayal that has shattered your world.

Everything spins around you in a blur of tears and confusion, you turn and run down the stairs, desperate to escape the pain and betrayal that threaten to consume you.

Each step feels like a marathon, your legs heavy with the weight of sorrow and disbelief.

But just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, your vision swimming with tears, you stumble, your foot catching on the edge of a step. You plummet forward, the ground rushing up to meet you with terrifying speed.

In that split second before impact, a pair of strong arms wraps around you, pulling you back from the brink of disaster. You gasp in shock and relief as Spencer catches you, his grip firm and steady.

For a moment, you cling to him like a lifeline, your body trembling with the force of your emotions.

You can't breathe, can't think, can't comprehend the enormity of what has just happened.

As you collapse onto the stairs, your sobs echoing in the empty stairwell, Spencer kneels beside you, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration.

He reaches out to touch you, but you flinch away, unable to bear the thought of his hands on your skin.

"Please," he pleads, his voice cracking with emotion. "Let me explain. It wasn't what you think. I didn't...I didn't do anything."

But his words fall on deaf ears as you struggle to make sense of the chaos swirling inside your head.

How could Spencer betray you like this? How could he let someone else touch him in that way?

As the truth begins to dawn on you, a wave of anger washes over you, hot and relentless. You push yourself away from Spencer, your chest heaving with the effort to draw breath.

"Don't," you choke out, your voice barely a whisper. "Don't touch me."

But Spencer refuses to give up, his eyes burning with determination as he reaches for you once more. "Please," he begs, his voice raw with emotion. "Let me explain. It wasn't me. It was her."

You place a trembling hand on your chest, trying to steady your racing heart as you struggle to catch your breath.

"How could you?" you utter, your voice barely above a whisper, the words heavy with accusation and pain.

Spencer's eyes are full of anguish as tears well up in his eyes. He reaches out to you, his hand hovering in the air between you, a silent plea for forgiveness that you're not sure you're ready to grant.

But before you can respond, JJ appears at the top of the stairs, her mouth open as if she's about to say something. But then, with a quick shake of her head, she closes her mouth and walks past the two of you without a word.

You stare after her in disbelief, your mind reeling with confusion and hurt.

You struggle to make sense of the situation. You knew of the hostage situation with JJ and how she had professed her love for Spencer. But you also remember how Spencer immediately came to you, confessing everything and reassuring you of his love for you.

He spent the whole night telling you every detail of what happened, assuring you that his heart belonged to you and you alone. He made it clear that you were the one he loved, not JJ.

So what happened? How could he be kissing her now, after everything he said and everything you've been through together?

With a shaky breath, you push yourself up from the stairs, your muscles tense with the effort to contain the storm raging within you. You want to flee, to distance yourself from him and the shattered remnants of your trust.

But before you can take a single step, Spencer's voice cuts through the tumultuous haze of your thoughts, pleading with you to stay. His words are a desperate plea for understanding, for a chance to explain the inexplicable.

"Please," he implores, his voice cracking with emotion. "Don't leave. I need to explain. I swear, it wasn't what it looked like. You have to believe me."

You hesitate, torn between the desire to escape and the need for answers. Despite the overwhelming pain coursing through your veins, there's a part of you that still craves the truth, no matter how agonizing it may be.

You groan loudly, the weight of the situation bearing down on you like a leaden blanket. Your mind races with a million questions, each one more painful than the last.

But for now, you're too overwhelmed to process anything.

With another loud groan, you turn and begin to make your way back upstairs, your steps heavy with exhaustion and despair.

You can feel Spencer's eyes boring into your back, his silent plea for you to stay echoing in the empty stairwell.

As you reach the top of the stairs, you don't look back, you enter the apartment and your only thought is to find a moment of solace in the solitude of the bathroom.

With trembling hands, you shut the door behind you, the click of the lock a final barrier between you and the chaos that threatens to consume you.

And as you sit there, trembling and broken, you realize that there's something about Spencer, something in the depths of his eyes that compelled you to stay, to hear him out.

It's a trust that runs deeper than words.

As you emerge from the bathroom after a few minutes, the weight of the silence between you and Spencer hangs heavy in the air.

You find him on the couch, his leg shaking uncontrollably, his fingers fidgeting nervously. His face is etched with worry and pain, mirroring the tumult of emotions raging inside you both.

He gave you space, just as he always did. It's one of the things you've always admired about him, his ability to recognize when you needed time to process and heal.

But now, as you sit in the armchair nearby, staring at him with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, you can't help but feel the need for answers, for some semblance of understanding in the chaos that surrounds you.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Spencer speaks. His voice is hoarse with emotion, the words tumbling out in a rush as if he's been holding them back for far too long.

"She just showed up," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "Out of nowhere, she started talking about how she loves me and how she was stupid for ignoring it for so long. She said she couldn't pretend anymore..."

You listen in stunned silence, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. So it wasn't Spencer who initiated the kiss, it was JJ.

But why?

As Spencer continues to speak, his words are a desperate attempt to make sense of the madness that has engulfed your lives, you find yourself drawn to him, to the vulnerability etched into every line of his face.

Despite the pain and betrayal that still lingers between you, there's a part of you that can't help but empathize with his plight.

As Spencer falls silent, his eyes searching yours for some sign of forgiveness or understanding, you find yourself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

Hurt, betrayal, and confusion war with a lingering sense of empathy and love for the man sitting before you.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and collect your thoughts. "Spencer," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "I... I don't know what to say."

His eyes widen in anticipation, his expression a mixture of hope and fear. "I understand," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "I know I've hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I need time," you finally say, your voice trembling with emotion. "I need time to process everything, to figure out where we go from here."

Spencer nods solemnly, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I understand," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here, waiting for you."

With a heavy sigh, you push yourself up from the armchair, your limbs feeling like lead. "I'm going to go," you say, your voice barely a whisper. "I just... I need some space."

Spencer nods, his gaze following you as you make your way to the door. "I'll be here," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "I love you."

You pause in the doorway, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. "I love you too," you murmur, your voice choked with emotion.

And with that, you step out into the cool night air, the weight of the world heavy on your shoulders.

As you make your way home, you can't help but wonder will it ever be the same between the two of you?

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds fanfics #criminal minds fanfic #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid angst #gn reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x gn reader #criminal minds oneshot #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds season 15 #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #angst