#sweetandsunny talks

[strawberryspence]

📖 - 14, 73, 76 (If 100 adds up, then that as well)

I'm not sure if we're supposed to like tell the baseline or not? So imma just go with it (you dun havr to follow it tho Berry!)

It could be like The Reader and Spencer babysitting baby Hank/Micheal, and while giving them a bath, they fling some soap into the readers eyes!

LOVE YA!!! (And I hope you enjoy this one XD)

📖 - Ray! Thank you for this! I really had fun writing it! I hope you also love it! Ily! ♥️

Prompts Used: 14. It burns, 73. I’ve officially lost my will to live, 74. Heh... sorry, that isn’t funny, & 100. How the hell do you look so good even when you’re crying?

Warnings: sexual innuendos, uhm ass grabbing?, some red eyes.

Word Count: 1,08k

gif is not mine. gif link.

Babysitting the LaMontagne children is always a pleasure. JJ and Will is in need of a day away from their chaotically lovely children. Spencer was first in line for the babysitting job because Penelope has done it for the last few months and Spencer owes her a few.

“Okay, enough playing with the paint. Spence, please stop playing with them and help me get them to the bath.” You stare at the children as they paint a canvas with their own bare hands while your thirty five years old, multiphd, genius boyfriend squirt the paint on their palm.

“Henry, enough with the paint, honey. Please.” You pull him away from the play set but he won’t budge, as you look at Spencer, “Spence, love, please help me sweetheart or you’re sleeping on the couch tonight. Without kisses... and other stuff.” You widen your eyes at him and he immediately drops the paint.

You snicker as he scrambles to pick up Michael and bring him inside the house. Spencer is a smart man, but through all that IQ, he still is a man.

“Come on, Henry. Do me a favor and get in the tub for me.” Henry rolls his eyes and you bite your lip to stifle a laugh. JJ warned you that he was going through a sassy phase and while JJ and Will hate it, you love how funny he is.

“But I still want to paint.” Henry folds his arms across his chest, “Come on, Michael is already on the tub with your Uncle Spencer don’t you want to play with him?”

“You mean in a bath with my naked younger brother?” You nod, stifling another laugh threatening to bubble from your mouth.

“Ugh. I’ve officially lost my will to live.” This time, the laugh bursts from you as you pick him up and push him into the house, “You’re too young to lose your will to live. Believe me.” You snicker as he gets naked but leaves his cute boxers on. He glares at you as you pick him up so that you can put him in the tub with Michael.

“Now you can play in here, while getting clean.” You prompt as you hand Spencer a loofa so he can start scrubbing Michael down. You hand a boat to Henry and he frowns, “What is this? What am I? 5?”

Spencer laughs as he scrubs Michael while he giggles, playing with a rubber duck, “No, you’re not but you’re 10 and you have to stop being sassy.”

“Just play.” You hand him the boat and start scrubbing the paint off him.

Finally, the four of you get some peace as you each both clean a child as they were both distracted by the toys. The moment of peace ends when the pizza they ordered is delivered.

“I’ll get it.” Spencer says, standing up and drying his hands before leaving the bathroom.

“Okay, the pizza is here. You guys can eat. BUT first I am going to wash Henry first and then you Michael.” You smile at the two boys looking at you, as you reach for the drain.

“Me! Me! First!” Michael cries as he slaps the bubble water making it splash, “Michael, baby! Stop! It might go into your eyes or Henry’s. Its going to hurt.” You try to get hold of Michael’s hand but he kept on splashing it.

True to your predictions, the water did go into someones eyes, not Michael’s, not Henry’s but yours.

“Ow! IT BURNS!” You squint your eyes harder as the bubble water burns your eyes.

“Michael! This is all your fault!” Henry screeches as tears well up your eyes from the burning sensation. Henry laughs even more like an evil villain.

“Henry! Don’t say that!” You try to scold Henry but thats too late as Michael was now full on crying and wailing.

“Heh... sorry, that isn’t funny.” Henry sheepishly says as his brother wails.

You hear Spencer’s heavy footsteps as he rushes into the bathroom,“What happened?”

“They got soap in my eyes and Henry is making Michael cry. Can you please wash them I need to wash out the soap off my eyes?” Spencer helps you stand up as you try to open your eyes but only causing it to burn more.

“Henry stop making your brother cry and help him wash himself.” Spencer instructs in a strict voice which makes Henry immediately move.

“Okay, here.” Spencer turns on the faucet and you immediately put your face under it, instantly sighing in relief. Spencer leaves you under the faucet as you hear him wash the children, which he successfully does. He brings the boys in their shared room to dress them both. After getting dressed Henry walks back to the bathroom with a towel.

“Here’s a towel. I am sorry for laughing and making a mess.” Henry pulls on your shirt and offering the towel. Awww what a sweet boy. You smile at him as you reach for the towel but he shrieks at you causing him to drop the towel, “AHHHH YOUR EYES ARE SO RED! MONSTEEER!”

You roll your eyes as he runs pass Spencer and to his room.

“Are you okay? Does it still hurt?” Spencer asks, “I am good. It still burns but I am alive.” You sniffle as you give him a smile even with tears in your eyes.

“How the hell do you look so good even when you’re crying?” You laugh as he pulls your face closer and looking at your eyes, “Its still red, but you’ll be fine.”

“What you’re a doctor of medicine now?” It was Spencer’s turn to laugh before giving your temple a kiss.

“How about you guys put on a movie, eat pizza and I’ll clean here?” Spencer offers as he tucks a loose hair behind your ear.

“Spencer Reid, you are so getting laid tonight.” He laughs before giving your lips a peck (and your ass a squeeze as you walk out)

A piece of pizza for each child and 3 Moana songs later, the little LaMontagne monsters children are fast asleep on the couch with their arms wrapped around you with you also fast asleep.

Spencer walks in the living room as Moana breaks into another song number and finds the kids tangled up with you, a contented smile gracing your features as you snore quietly.

He can’t help but smile as he feels his heart swell twice its size with love. Its only been a year, but Spencer has never been more sure of what he wanted for his future and maybe, just, maybe its time for a ring.

#dae celebrates 300 #sweetandsunny talks #daeblurbs #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb

[mayoanddelight]

ur kindof childish

So.. a no to the mango juice?

(Welp, more for @letarasstuff and I then)

#sweetandsunny talks #is this.. hate? #does this mean I made it #sugary sweet anons #<- debatable #😂

[reidselle]

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity!! ☆

crying, sobbing, and screaming

#ily ily ily #sweetandsunny #aj talks #asks

[ssavanessa22]

A Bundle of surprises

A/n: it's not Monday, but who gives a fuck right now 🤷🏾‍♀️Also, as I rewrote half the show cause I can do whatever I want 😗 thank you for @samuel-de-champagne-problems de-champagne-problems de-champagne-problems, for helping with this fic and @sweetandsunny for helping me and getting me out of my writer's block! Again reblogs and comments are what help me write more :)

Masterlist

Warnings: pregnant fem! Reader

Parings: Spencer x reader romantic, Aaron x reader platonic

She had been tossing and turning the whole night; she never sleeps well without spencer next to her, lightly tracing the curvature of her back with his hands or gently tracing the stretch marks that delicately wrapped around my bump and thighs like petals in the wind. She had had ups and downs; the cravings at 2 am for McDonald's fries with KFC chicken and subway meatballs. The crankness towards the whole team even causing her to have a meltdown in the middle of the bullpen, but it was all going to be worth it. She was two weeks shy of giving birth, nearly done growing the baby she and Spencer had been waiting for.

Even though the bau had had its fair share of agents come and go through those glass doors since she and spencer first started. She's tried her hardest to keep in contact with as many people as she possibly could. Meeting kate’s baby after she had given birth and always making sure Meghan needed anyone to talk to after the whole ordeal, sending emails back and forth to sever and Todd. Finding Alex after she left and sternly telling her that she didn't get to be another person who left Spencer without an explanation making sure both brainiac‘s spent as much time together as their schedules allowed. Even going as far as turning up at Derek’s house at 1 am and forcing him to help her follow Gideon down the east coast and ultimately save his life. However, the person she stayed in contact with the most throughout the years was Aaron; after the whole experience with Scratch, Aaron and Jack came back from witness protection. However, Aaron didn’t want to be unit chief anymore. It was hard for her to see Spencer lose another person in his life; nonetheless, she understood why Aaron made that decision.

After he left, no one on the team had seen him or even spoken to him except Rossi a few times, and it deeply upset her; how can someone she considered a father leave her life. She knew Spence had lost his fair share of people in his life, but she also lost people she considered family, and not having that father figure around hurt her. So when she was 2 months pregnant and violently throwing up, home alone because she forced Spencer to go to work she did what any rational person would do. She stomped all the way the Cruz’s office cried her eyes out and begged him for Aarons new address and the address of jacks high school. She had already tried all his phone numbers and went to his old apartment before and he's wasn't there so this was her last chance. And again as any pregnant woman would do with raging hormones coursing through her...she kidnapped Jack from school.

Aaron was pacing his living room, already getting ready to call Cruz to order the Marshalls, CARD anyone. Jack hadn't been answering his messages or calls anything, and he's was worried sick the flashbacks to Haley and a young jack invaded his mind. This couldn't be happening again. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard jacks special knock on the door and ran as fast as possible to answer it. “Hey, dad”

“Jesus Christ jack you scared the crap out of me where we're you” he said after breathing out in relief

“I was with a friend she took me to Wendy's and we had burgers”

“Jack who's your friend, you need to tell me if you going to go out”

Jack step to the side of the door. Aaron could see who was with him

“Aaron, if you hadn't been ignoring my calls, I wouldn't have had to kidnap jack.”

“Y/n your kidding me why the fu-”

“look, I'm sorry, but for the last 13 years, I've seen people leave Spencer with just a note or a book; I needed you, and you just left, and now I'm pregnant and my mums been great and all, but I just needed a dad, and you left” by this point, you were full-on sobbing on Aaron's doorstep tears bubbling up in your face and ruining your makeup causing Aarons face softened.

“Y/n, I'm so sorry. I just felt terrible for leaving, and I knew you would beg me to stay, and I couldn't do that.”

“I wouldn't have forced you. I love you and Jack too much to make you stay. I would have told you to go.”

“I’m so sorry; I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay. I just missed you so much; please don't leave again.”

And that's how you became the only person that Aaron was in contact with; at the BAU, he had sworn you to Secrecy and said that it would be too much for him right now to be talking to the whole team regardless, The secret was killing you.

Waddling your way into The BAU, she was greeted by the whole team at their desks.

“If it isn't, mama Reid, how are you doing, honey” Penelope Squealed once she saw you

“I'm doing well, sweetheart, cause you are all so sweet and cute, and I needed to get out of the house. I made some sweet treats for you all. Cinnamon buns and some cupcakes”

“Well, isn't that a nice surprise? I will be taking many”, luke replied

“Take as many as your heart desires luke, oh and Matt, I have some extra for the kids and your hottie at home.”

“Thanks n/n the kids are gonna love these”, he mumbled whilst take a big bite out of a cupcake “and stop calling my wife a hottie”, he quipped back

“I am not making any promises, matt”, you replied whilst giggling “now, where is my baby daddy.”

Just as y/n asked the team where spencer was, he came out of the break room with Tara

“I mean, scientists haven't done a study on it, but I see I can't see why they couldn't test whether different positions in sexual intercourse make more babies who don't fit societies eurocentric standard of beauty. It all depends on- baby, what are doing here!”

Jogging up to you and kissing your belly and your Cheek

“Just here to deliver some sweet treats to you cause you guys work so hard, and you deserve it.”

“Well, thank you for that, baby. It means a lot”, spencer replied before slapping a sweet and long kiss on your lips

You weren't prepared for Spence to kiss you that passionately. Your face was burning hot, and everyone could see you visibly getting flustered

“You alright there, mama? You look all hot and flustered”, Penelope asked

“Yeah, I'm good just haven't been kissed like that in a while, is all; it made me feel all hot and flustered.”

“Oh, we can tell, love. I think your water just broke from that kiss”, Emily interrupted quickly

Looking down as best as you could with your large bump in the way, you saw a small patch of liquid on the floor right beneath you

“Holy shit, this can be happening right now, not in this filthy office filled with antibodies and people and dirt and an array of microbes, and God y/n their early the baby is early your only 38 weeks we've still got some time this can't be happening.”

“Oh my goodness, baby genius is coming. I repeat baby genius is coming!”

You started stroking Spencer's arm, trying to calm him down by using the breathing exercises you two practised in preparation for the reaction he would have when your water broke

“Spencer; honey, it's fine. Everything is going to be okay. My hospital bags are in the car. Let's all breathe, including you, penny.”

After calming both spencer and Garcia from the edge of a panic attack, you and spencer made it down to the car with Matt as you made the executive decision that Reid was in no state to drive.

“Spencer, everything's going to be OK; you need to breathe in and out, baby in and out”

“Okay, okay, I'm trying. I'm trying really hard”

“You know the way your coaching spencer to breathe. You would think he's the one having the baby, not you,” Matt said from the driver's seat

“Funny joke Matt but right now is not the time.”

“Okay, I'm good now. Everything is fine with me Garcia called your mum on our way down here. Your sister is on the way. Is there anyone I forget to tell?”

Crap, you forgot about this problem; you said you would cross that bridge when you got there, and now you are here. You want Aaron there. You need him there; you can't call your dad and ask for his support like all your other pregnant friends, and he's the closest thing you've had to a father in years. But if you call him, everyone will know you were in contact with him; spencer will know, and God knows who he will take that. He was distraught when Aaron had to leave, and him knowing you've been close with Aaron this whole time might just break him. But the contractions are starting to hit you now, so you can decide that later.

“Nope, no one else that's everyone”

You were at hour 10 at this point tired, and in so much pain the ice chips spencer was giving you weren't helping anymore, and the braids in your hair were too long, and we're frustrating her

“It's been hours, and I can't do this anyone mum please I'm so tired I can't- I'm sick of this I want this over with I want this baby out now, I'm hungry and sad and angry and happy all rolled up into one big ball please make it stop mum.”

“Honey your you're doing so well right now; okay, I'm so proud of you, baby, but maybe if your feeling like this, we should call him”

“Call who? I thought we told everyone we needed to tell”

“Mum why this was no the right time to tell me this not now not when I'm pushing a baby out of me”

“Baby I think it's time your tell him you wanted him here to support your he was part of the birth plan”

Can one of you please tell me who you're calling about

“I'm sorry, Spence, and I don't know how to tell you this, but I reconnected with Aaron, and we got close again, and I wanted him here as a dad, and I love jack like a brother, and sometimes I accidentally call him dad and right now I'm feeling a lot of things, and I'm in so much pain right now I'm so sorry please don't be mad at me- owwwww omg this shit hurts so bad.”

“Y/n, why didn't you tell me this earlier? I don't know what?- I can't.”

“Spencer I love your you so so much and I know your upset and confused right now but can you please just for now be there for me and then you can be mad at me as much as you want after and please call Aaron”

“Baby, I'm staying with you, and your mums going to call Aaron, so it's all good, and I understand why you were scared, but please just come to me next time and tell me I wouldn't have been mad love”

“Okay, he's gonna be here anytime soon, okay, honey.”

“Okay mama my fucking God, I can't- this is too much I'm done now I can't do think can't I need to leave”

As you try to swing your legs around the side of the bed, ignoring the words of concern from; the nurses, doctors, your mother and spencer trying to stop you from escaping. Your room door opened, and Aaron walked in on the scene of people trying to prevent you from running, well, more like shuffling away. An uncharacteristic smile enveloped his face as he let out a high pitched laugh.

“What on earth are you doing y/n”

“What does it look like I'm doing? I can't do this anymore. It's too painful, and it's too much. I'm leaving.”

“You and I both know you can't leave, sweetheart, Reid. Let's help get y/n back on the bed, okay.”

“Reluctantly, with the help of y/m/n, Aaron and Spencer, you made it back of the bed.”

“Aaron, I'm scared”

“I know y/n but your so closes your nearly over with this all and you'll get to meet your beautiful baby”

“I know it's- wait, how do you know I'm nearly done? You've only just found out I'm in the hospital so. Clearly, my mum told you early than 20 minutes ago, and you weren't calling me sweetheart. You were calling her, sweetheart”

“Y/n honey, maybe you should practice your breathing excises one in one out like that”

“Nope, you will not be distracting me today women; you and Aaron are fucking Jesus you two are fucking why-owwww, another contraction.”

“Y/n love, We have just started messaging about you and your pregnancy, and everything just kind of developed from there.”

“As much as I am disturbed by the revelation right now in happy you're both deserve happiness, and my mind has been in love with since forever, well more specifically when you came back from Pakistan with that beard.”

“I love you and your mother so much, and it's good to see you again Spencer we have some catching up to do don't we”

“That we do indeed”

“I hate the spoil this lovely moment between you four but it's time y/n to push this baby out”

After 30 more minutes of pain, you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl; you and spencer sat on the bed caressing her cute little cheeks and seeing the tight ringlets of curls strewn around her head, you reflected on how blessed you were to be around the people you loved so dearly.

I guess all my heartburn was worth the hair on her huh

You and I both know that is just an old wives tale y/n

Let me bask in this Spencer for like 2 minutes and then you can fact check me later

Maybe Spencer was still upset with you and Aaron for keeping this secret. Perhaps your and Aaron relationship will change now because he's with your mother, but right now, all that matters is the sweet precious baby in you and spencers arms. And maybe everything will end up the way it was supposed to be.

A/n: This mutual appreciation fic is dedicated to @boldlyvoid; they are literally one of the kindest, sweetest people on this app. They are so caring and thoughtful and genuinely care about anyone who visits their page. We became mutuals when the community on here did some of the most disturbing things imaginable. I felt very excluded during this time, but Emily was so kind with her words and actions even when she didn't even know me that well and had no reason to be excellent. She's like the Tumblr big sister everyone needs on this app, calling people out after I was sent my first hate anon reblogging and celebrating when I post fics. And I think being the only two people in the world who ship Luke x, Matt and Kristy, together, lmao. Overall they are hilarious, kind and caring. Also, a fucking fantastic writer, and if you don't already follow them, then you need to right now!

Send as ask to be added to my taglist! Also tagging some aaron hotcner lovers

@spookyspence @sweetandsunny @arsonhotchner @shmaptainhotchnersmain

#spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dad spencer #dad!spencer #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner fan fiction #aaron hotchner fluff #ssavanessa22! #mutual Monday appreciation

[writer-in-theory]

The Way I Love(d) You Masterlist

summary: from play weddings in the suburbs of las vegas to lavish hotel rooms in new york city, spencer and reader find their way to each other every time. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff & angst content warnings: smut in later parts, discussions of mental illness (diana reid), unsafe childhood environment (spencer), hookups, breakups, falling in love slowly a/n: am i starting another series? of course. huge thanks to @safespacespence and @angstyalex for listening to me talk about this all night and another bonus thanks to alex for making the graphic for part eight after i threw a fit over font colors not cooperating with me. y'all, i'm so excited for this one so strap in.

wanna join the taglist?

part one: i dared you to kiss me spencer was seven and you were nine, and everyone knew you'd be married someday.

part two: hear it in the silence from childhood neighbors to college roommates, you realize what's always been true.

part three: so you could take it off when you get invited to a celebrity event, you're determined to make spencer see what you've known for years.

part four: this magic in the air life with spencer is a fairytale written in the stars.

part five: dropped your hand when spencer wants more with you, every lingering fear catches up to you all at once.

part six: back to december the first time you see spencer after that fateful night goes differently than you'd expected.

part seven: we'd go back in time with time to mourn what was lost, you and spencer remember where you started.

part eight: still worship this love you and spencer find your way back to each other a million little times.

part nine: tying you to me and isn't just so pretty to think, there was some invisible string...

GENERAL TAGLIST

@samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthewgraygublerlover @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @safespacespence @shemarmooresfedora @reidsbookclub @angstyalex @katymarie @mrsobrien888 @alexxavicry @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithreid @idfvc @lil-stark @lady-anon-x @arrowurboat @sweetandsunny @stillsleepynat @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @nichmeddar @venomsvl @givemeth @foxy-eva @mondscheintraeumerin @manuosorioh @happycamper72 @beepbooptoop @gubesboo @lilibet261 @lassmich1

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer reid series #spencer reid self insert #jay writes in theory

[amphxtrite]

remus lupin x gn!reader

warnings: being picked up.

summary: remus finds out how easy it is to scoop you up.

word count: 700

taglist: @amourtentiaa @myraakhad @mistress-riddle @sweetandsunny @mollysolo

a/n: a blurb for @oldschoolkiddo thank you for the blurb request!!

———————————————————————————

“Darling, are you alright?” Remus asks as the two of you walk back to your common room.

“M’exhausted Rem, stayed up all night studying.” You murmur, a yawn cutting you off.

Remus sighs. “You put too much pressure on yourself y’know, you don’t have to stay up to the wee hours of the night going over things you already know.” He huffs, pulling you to a stop.

“I like to be prepared.” You shrug. “Just in case.” You mutter, feeling your eyes droop.

“Darling you’re going to fall before you get to your bed.” Remus sighs and glances around, when an idea pops into his head.

He had always been too shy to try it before, but you were going to fall on your face if he didn’t.

“Climb onto my back love, I’ll carry you.” He suggests.

“It’s okay Rem, I can-” 

You trip halfway into your sentence. “Okay, maybe not.” You yawn, turning around and wrapping your arms around Remus’s neck.

“Alright, one, two, three.” He mutters, signalling you to jump and him to push you up onto his back.

Remus wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he found it rather easy to walk while carrying you, you were situated comfortably on him and it felt nice when you snuggled your face into him, he blushed and continued on his way.

You thought it would only be a one time thing, a desperate measure for the time that probably wouldn’t happen again. 

Boy, were you wrong.

Almost everyday it was as though your feet never touched the ground, as soon as you stepped out of the common room, Remus greeted you with a piggy back ride, when you were browsing the library shelves Remus would sneak up beside you to pick you up bridal style, or lift you by the hips to reach the books just out of your range.

“Thanks again Rem.” You smile, kissing him on the cheek as he sets you down.

“Anytime, my love.” He smirks, lowering himself into a bow.

You’re not kidding, you think to yourself as you turn and head back to your table where the rest of your books sat. Remus stands at the shelves a little longer searching for his own resources.

Before you could sit down, a familiar boy with a mop of black hair and a red tie races towards you, laughing.

“Sirius be careful!” You rush, stepping out of the way just in time for him to hit the table.

“Man, that was wicked!” He chuckles, throwing his hands up in the air.

“What did you and James do this time?” You sigh, crossing your arms.

“Oh my, y/n it was amazing, James brought a buttload of this muggle glitter that we fashioned into little devices that would spray the stuff everywhere. We threw them into the slytherin common room, and they came out covered in sparkling powder. It was glorious.” He exclaims. 

You look down at his hands to see they were indeed coated in glitter.

“What are you two talking about?” Remus asks, suddenly popping up beside you.

“Sirius and James pulled another prank.” You sigh, letting a small smile creep past your lips.

“Really now? Well that’s lovely but-” Remus grins, swinging his arms underneath your legs and catching you back in his other. “We better be going.” He finishes.

You yelp in surprise and cling onto Remus’s neck.

“Rem, you can’t keep doing this!” You hiss.

“You’ll thank me later love, I see some pink, sparkly slytherins and a professor coming this way, and I know you’d hate to get detention.” He smirks, turning and walking away with you.

You look over to see that it was true a group of students covered head to toe in the shiny substance were marching over followed by a disgruntled Slughorn.

As soon as you were out of sight, the slytherins began pointing fingers at the only student standing there, Sirius Black, whose fingers were still coated in glitter and the guiltiest look of glee and terror on his face.

A loud ‘bloody hell!’ could be heard as you walked out of the library, completely unscaved.

“Thanks Rem.” You sigh begrudgingly with a soft giggle.

Remus smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Of course my love, I will be your hero any day.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin blurb

[pretty-boys-book-club]

Bylines to my heart - Chapter 2

Summary: You are a young journalist navigating the turbulent job of reporting for a local newspaper in D.C. What happens when you constantly bump into a cute boy genius? Can FBI agents befriend journalists? Can they fall in love with one?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x journalist!Reader, Spencer Reid x y/n, Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Word Count: around 5k

Trigger Warning: Reference’s to Maeve Donovan’s death, Canon-Typical Violence, Mostly Fluff.

A/N: It's my first published fanfic, so feel free to send me any tips on how I can improve! I'm loosely following what happens at season 11, but with adaptations for the story. Overall, some of the themes used for Joy's story. The team in this version includes Emily and Derek, plus all the members that appear in season 11. Joy Rossi is mentioned slightly, but you can decide if she is a journalist as well or not. 

Special mention to my beta reader, @sweetandsunny​ who is an absolute angel and has helped tremendously with this fic! 

Chapter 1

Parallel lives

“Wanting connections, we found connections — always, everywhere, and between everything. The world exploded in a whirling network of kinships, where everything pointed to everything else, everything explained everything else...”

― Umberto Eco

“Y/N? Can I see you at my office?” your editor calls you. Standing up, you turning off your computer screen – not even getting the chance to read your emails before being called to your boss's office. Great, we're gonna have a long day. 

It's been over a month since you had to cover the beekeepers' fair in Washington and since you met Spencer at the bookstore. You went back to the shop a few times after that, but you didn't see him. After questioning the owner, you found out that he didn't work at the store (what a shame to have thought that) but that he was one of the most loyal customers. You searched the web, looking for any clues for a social media presence, but gave up the search after finding nothing - Spencer is a pretty common name, #269 on the list of most popular names in the US, and without a last name your search is pointless. There’s no chance you’ll ever see the man again. 

After a few days, you let it go, concentrating on work and mundane tasks. But much as you try to avoid it, Spencer crosses your mind from time to time, more often than you'd like to admit. You swear you see someone who looks like him in the metro. Once, being so sure that it was him, you followed a poor innocent boy to a café, only to find that it was a random teenager with a similar haircut and not the man you're desperately searching for. 

It helps that you've kept busy, settling into your new role a bit better. But with so much work in the past weeks (you are now covering so many events that you slept through a ping-pong competition last week) - you've barely had enough time to think about anything other than your job.

You enter your editor’s office. John Williams is a man in his late fifties, with deep expression lines and thinning hair, something you attribute to the stressful profession. You can't picture what he must have looked like as a young man, without the beard or the smoky voice he has after years of smoking cigarettes in the newspaper office. You assume that this is a consequence of having worked as a journalist long before health laws prohibited smoking indoors.

“Hi boss, what do you need?", you use your most pleasant voice to avoid seeming rude to your boss. 

“Sit down.”

“Okay…”

“So, I gather you’ve heard of the homicide at northwest D.C.?”

“Yeah, I did. It sounded very grisly… Does that... Does that mean what I think it means? You want me to go over there and interview the authorities?” you say, almost not believing that your editor might ask something like that of you. It’s so outside your field of expertise, you have zero experience covering crime scenes and tragedies in general. 

“Yeah, I want you to go there, but not only to talk to the authorities, the FBI and local PD will be there, but I want you to talk to the families of the victims.”

“You want me to talk to the families? Sir, they are just going through what is most likely the worst moment in their lives, are you sure I’m the person for the job?”

“As much as I hate to send a reporter with no previous crime experience to write about a case like this, we need an interview for an article. These kinds of things drive our readership through the roof, since the big papers will be more focused on the President’s speech tomorrow than on a local crime. Y/N, all the locals will want to know more about this horrible thing happening in their backyard. I need you to get enough material for a story on this.”

“Okay, but are you sure-” You look into your editor’s eyes, trying to think of a single argument to convince him that someone else should do it. The man looks so tired, overworked, like most of your colleagues, you suppose. It doesn’t help that you're part of a local newspaper in a city like D.C., having to compete with big papers like The Post.

“Look, kid, we hired you because you have a very impressive CV, having worked at the Times-“ John tries to reason. 

“Correction: interned, and only for a year.”

“Well, having interned at the New York Times, so this shouldn’t be something a big shot reporter like you can’t handle.” He pleads. Well, he's really trying to butter you up today, huh?

“But I'm not a big shot reporter at all! I interned at the Times' entertainment section for a year, and then worked for a magazine in the retail industry for five! I’m not exactly a crime reporter, John. And you know it!” 

“Look, we’ve got Mark covering the game tonight and Janet is on sick leave, so that leaves you as the only one available. I wouldn’t ask you to do it if I didn’t think you had it in you.” He gives you a look as if to make sure you're actually okay with it, even if his words aren’t the most comforting. 

“Okay, yeah, I suppose I can interview the families or something like that. But you know I’m not a crime specialist and I can’t promise that I’ll get enough for a feature.” 

“Just get some quote from them saying how horrible it all is and we’ll be okay. The press conference is at the precinct at Tenleytown in two hours, so you have some time to get acquainted with the story. Try to meet with Agent Jareau or Agent Hotchner there, they are usually the ones we use as sources when these kinds of things happen.” He gets up from his desk, signaling that his decision is final. “And, Y/N, just to follow your journalistic instinct, it never failed me and you’ll see that it won’t fail you either. You’ll do great." He gives you a little pat on the back, as if this will stop you from panicking. "I don’t care what you have to do, just get me enough to run something about it, ok?” The editor says loudly, his voice booming at the office, making sure that everyone outside the room could also hear your conversation. You know he doesn't mean any harm, so you nod. 

—

Spencer is using all his energy to go through all the possible reasons for the UnSub killing his victims. It has been a few weeks since the BAU has had a day off, with cases demanding them to travel across the country. Once they arrived at D.C., a local police department asked them to consult on a serial murder case, and here they found themselves, in a police precinct at the north of the capital city. The team is tired, he can feel the exhausted energy in the air. Rossi and Emily are out getting something to eat, while Morgan is with him in the conference room, looking through files again to make sure they have missed no clues. Hotch and JJ are somewhere else, getting ready for a press conference that is about to start. Tara is talking to the families, who have been notified a few hours ago, taking their statements. 

No wonder Garcia is more than happy to call him and let him know that she's had a breakthrough on her "special assignment".  As soon as he sees Penelope's name on his screen, he excuses himself and enters a separate room from the rest of the team. 

"I found her, Reid!" She talks so loudly on the phone that Spencer has to put his phone away from his ear, her excitement apparent. He can picture her jumping up and down in her seat with a sparkly pen in her hand. “I almost thought your pretty girl was made-up, but I found her! Not to brag, but you know it would usually take my cute little fingers only a couple of minutes to search for her if you had anything more than a name to go on, but I'm pretty sure I found her." she giggles, happy to help him however she can. "Oh, you never said she was so gorgeous, remind me again why you’re having me stalk this poor girl online instead of going after her yourself?”

“It’s…It’s complicated, Garcia.” he almost whispers, earning a concerned look from Morgan, who’s staring through the window from the conference room. "Have you found where she works?"

"Yeah, she's a reporter for WTOP, I have an article here about a theater production she wrote last Tuesday and another about a student protest at Howard, and she's really good, Reid. I like her." 

Penelope's opinion is something Spencer trusts, so hearing her say that she likes the articles lets a smile escape his lips. "I'm glad to hear that," he says, before realizing that he has done so.

"I bet you are, pretty boy. What do you want me to do with the information? I can forward it to you in five minutes..."

Spencer cuts her off: “Just, just keep this between us for now. You don’t need to send this to me right away, I’ll check what you have once we’re back at the building, okay?”

“Afraid someone might find out that you are crushing H-A-R-D-” Garcia’s singsong voice rings through his ears. He feels his neck and ears heat up, hiding his face in his hands. 

“Thanks, Penelope, I have to go. Bye.” Spencer cuts her off briefly. He has bigger worries than a stupid crush at the moment. He goes back to the conference room, only to be met by Morgan with a smug smile on his face.

“Who was that, pretty boy?”

“It's just Garcia, she’s helping me with a consultation.” 

"If you say so."

"What do you mean?"

“Nothing, kid, nothing." Spencer hides his cell phone in his pocket, noticing that Derek is looking at him intently. He feels a bit self-conscious under the older agent's gaze, knowing he can't disguise the dark circles under his eyes, or the fact that his hair is totally disheveled.   

"Listen, try not to overwork yourself so much. You know, most of us have someone or something waiting for us at home to help us unload after a case, you, on the other hand, have been working non-stop since…”

“I know, I know, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“But we do. We all worry about you, Reid.” Morgan seems to have good intentions, but Spencer can’t help but feel peeved that they all try to intrude in his personal life so frequently. “Look, I need to get these files to Hotch before the conference starts, you keep working on the geographical profile for now. But please, once this is all over, you need to catch a break.”

“I’ll let you know if I have any news.” Spencer knows that everything Derek says is true, but he won't allow himself to confess anything. He hates that they see him as fragile. 

Morgan leaves him alone. Even as he tries to focus on the case, his mind is quicker, moving to the subject he is trying to avoid. Could Garcia really have found her? And if so, how would he approach her? Now that it seemed more real, he felt stupid for not having a plan. Morgan and Emily made flirting and dating look so easy, and he was still afraid of even asking a girl out for a date. 

—

You clutch your notebook in one hand and your phone in the other. You see your own calligraphy, words scribbled in a way that even you have trouble reading them, a result of writing way too fast. Whether it’s an iconic quote scribbled in a notepad or a detailed scene describing a moment in time, the notes that reporters take are an early, but crucial, step in the process of journalism.

Each journalist has their own process for recording the details that make up their report, which can vary widely depending on their beat. But the goal remains the same: to document the truth.

You like to think that the truth is in the details, the unspoken things, the silences. That is why, while other journalists are focused on finding the right angle to make themselves look good on camera, you are sitting in your seat, your phone ready to record in the press of a button, more concerned about watching the flow of policemen entering and leaving the station.You have a good view of the office through the glass and notice the team of people going in and out of a room across the hall. 

They are all wearing suits, rather than the uniforms that the other officers wear, making them stand out in the ocean of blue shirts. You deduce they must be with the FBI, and when two of them, a blonde woman and a man with dark hair and furrowed eyebrows, walk towards the auditorium you are in, you are sure that they are the two agents your editor mentioned earlier.

The other journalists, being more accustomed to this routine, settle down and begin preparing their cameras when the agents enter the room. You have arrived very early and got a good seat in front of the audience, so you can pay close attention to all that is said. 

"I'm Agent Hotchner and this is Agent Jareau, we are here to give a brief description of the type of person we are looking for and ask for all of your outlet's cooperation," he begins, with a deep voice and a serious expression. You sense that he is the ideal type of person for a job like this. 

"We are looking for a man in his late thirties to early forties, who can blend in with the people in the neighborhood. He's probably well dressed, charismatic, and we think he's going into people's homes posing as some kind of service provider. Since most of the victims are college students who live with their parents, this means that he is acting at times when young people are alone and that he knows how to make people feel safe around him. That means we are talking about a dangerous criminal" the blonde, Agent Jareau, adds. 

"So we are asking all residents of Tenleytown to be extremely cautious. Students should avoid being alone at home. Confirm the identities of all persons entering your residences and report if you see any suspicious cars on your streets." Agent Hotchner concludes. He watches the rest of the room, "Any questions?” Hands go up around the room.

A woman with dark skin and curly hair stands up, holding a microphone: “Mary Coulson with the Washington Spark. Are you going to release any more details about the victims? What university did they go to?”

“We’ve already made all available data public as of last night. We can’t confirm which campus they went to in order to keep the attacks from escalating. We don't wish to cause a social media uproar. From what we can tell, the suspect has a very specific killing zone, so we have no reason to think people outside of Tenleytown are in danger.” the female agent answers. She has a soothing tone, which comes very handy when dealing with this type of situation.

“Lewis Parker, Washington City Paper. Has something similar to this happened somewhere else? Why is the FBI involved?”

“We have reason to believe this is a serial case.” Agent Hotchner responds. “That is all for now, please reach out to me or Agent Jareau if you have any further questions.” 

The rest of the journalists get up, ready to leave the police station in a hurry. You notice that the older agent leaves the room while the commotion takes place, as the younger agent stays to pack up some papers in front of the auditorium where the two were speaking moments ago. You notice an opening to go talk to her and see if you have any chances of getting something from the families. After all, even though you recorded everything that has been said, you still haven't gotten the interview you need.

 "Agent Jareau? Hi, I'm Y/N, from WTOP. My editor, John Williams, said you could help me." you extend your hand to greet her, and she quickly accepts. 

"Nice to meet you, I usually deal with Janet from your website, is everything okay with her?"

"Oh yeah, she's sick so they sent me to cover the press conference instead. I was wondering if I could ask some questions to the victims' families."

The blonde looks around, making sure there are no other journalists besides you. It's noticeable that she's contemplating the best course of action. You look at her with pleading eyes, hoping that she takes that as a sign that you have no hidden intention of making this request. ”Look, I wouldn't normally let the press get in touch with the families so quickly, but it might raise awareness about the case and help us catch this guy before he strikes again. I can't promise you anything. If they talk to you, it's on their own free will."

"Sure, I understand," you nod. "Thank you so much, really. Can I ask you something?"

She looks surprised. You reflect, realizing that more experienced journalists probably wouldn't have such a hard time navigating a situation like this.

"Okay."

"It's my first time covering a case like this, any tips on how I can ask them things without sounding insensitive, since the murder are so fresh in their minds?"

"I think judging by the fact that you asked this question, you won't have a hard time. Just try to imagine how you would feel if you were in their shoes." That's a hard thing. You can't begin to imagine the feeling of shock, pain and anger they must've felt after receiving news of the brutal murder of their loved one. Agent Jareau continues, "I will let them know that a reporter is waiting to talk to them."

"Sure, I'll just wait here.”

—

He's been at the police station for hours now, finally deciding to leave the conference room, feeling the dire need of having caffeine in his body. Preferably in large quantities, with an exorbitant proportion of sugar, scalding hot. Better coffee than is available at the precinct. And maybe something sweet to digest the sandwich Emily brought him an hour ago. 

"I'm going out to buy some coffee. Anyone want anything?" he asks Prentiss, Rossi and Lewis, the only ones also in the room. They all answer in the negative, only Emily raising her gaze from the file she's flipping through.

"If I didn't know you, I'd be worried about that much coffee."

"I just need something that isn't made in an old police station coffee pot."

"I understand you. Go ahead, we'll manage around here."

He leaves the room, nodding at them as a response. He's exhausted from the countless sleepless nights spent to solve murders. Glancing around the precinct, his eyes land on something. Much rather someone. He swears that his eyes are deceiving him. 

It can't be. 

He rubs his eyes, convinced that he must be hallucinating from exhaustion. But there she is, taking notes as she talks to the family of one of the victims. She looks so beautiful concentrating like that. Spencer is lost in thoughts of how she looks for a moment, until an officer bumps into him, reminding him where he is. He quickly pulls himself together, walking faster towards the exit. 

Before he gets through the doors, he hears what he could never dream of: "Spencer?"

—

You can hardly believe it. 

“Spencer? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I can explain.” 

“Are you in trouble?” you look around as you speak, genuinely concerned for this man you hardly know and imagining that he might need your help.

“It’s not that…” he bashfully replies. 

Agent Jareau appears at this instant, with a glass of water in each of her hands. "There you are, Y/N, the water you asked me for.” She looks at you and Spencer, a ghost of a smile leaving her lips. Then she looks at you, "Were you able to talk to the families?"

You are so confused that it takes you a minute to answer. "Yes, I think… I think I have enough material to do the story, thanks…" you say, not taking your eyes off the man in front of you. He looks gorgeous, in a slightly more formal attire than the last time you met. The other thing you notice is how tired he looks too. 

"Oh, how rude of me, I see you have met Dr. Reid?” she extends her hand toward the guy you’ve daydreamed about for the past weeks.

"Doctor?" you still don't understand what is going on, making your voice crack a little bit. 

"Yes, Doctor. And one of the best - and youngest - profilers we have on our team." The blonde complements, with a smile on her face, as if she sees something they don't.

Oh. Okay. No freaking out. Oh my, is Spencer an FBI agent? But he looks so young. A part of you short-circuits, you try to speak but your voice goes up an octave: "You're a doctor and an FBI agent?!"

"I am an FBI agent.” he says matter of fact. "The Doctor is because of my PhDs, not an MD.” he looks down at the ground. 

You continue to stare at him, incredulously, only snapping out of whatever trance you're in when Agent Jareau coughs. You realize that you are abusing the poor woman's generosity and quickly hand her your press pass. 

"Thanks again." you smile, trying to pass on the gratitude you feel to her. She has a broad smile on her face, looking at Spencer and the way he is clearly embarrassed. He looks at her with a face that says to not make the situation any worse.

"You're welcome. And I'll leave you two to it, I see you clearly already know each other.”

"I'm sorry."

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong."

"I didn't correct you when you thought I worked in the bookstore." He is red, clearly feeling bad for giving you the wrong impression. You think you're going to explode due to his sheer adorableness.

"Well, I'm the one who should apologize for making an assumption," you try to calm him down. “I even had you waste your time walking me to the other side of the store! I'm such an idiot.”

He looks at you with a funny expression, wrinkling his nose.

"How did you know my name?"

"The checkout lady."

"Oh."

"She asked me if anyone in the store helped me, and you did, so I told her that a tall guy had helped me, and she said ‘Oh, Spencer?’ and I just said yes.” you try to explain, your words stumbling together. 

“Of course…” he says, a smile on his face. “Can we, maybe, start over?” he says, holding out his hand. You take it and feel how warm his hand is against yours. You look up to him, your eyes meeting once again. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I work at WTOP as a reporter.”

“Hi, Y/N, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m with the FBI.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Reid.”

“Oh, Spencer’s fine.” he laughs, still holding your hand.

“Would you like to grab some coffee sometime?”

“I was really hoping you’d ask. I’m actually on my way to a café right now.” 

—

“I thought Reid didn’t do handshakes", Emily says, watching the interaction from afar with her arms crossed. JJ walks up to her, both of them smiling, rooting for Spencer. 

“Well, apparently there are some exceptions.” JJ replies, sliding up to the brunette. 

“Clearly.” Tara concludes. 

“What are you all doing here?” Hotch walks into the scene, looking confused at the smiling BAU ladies. He doesn’t mean to intrude, but they should all be working on the profile. He looks in the same direction as the three women, seeing Reid talking to a girl he recognizes as a reporter from the press conference before. "What is going on?"

“Nothing”, the ladies say in unison. 

“Nothing at all”, Emily whispers to herself, as she sees both of you walking out of the station with Spencer laughing at something you’ve said. It seems they’re letting Spencer keep this a secret. 

For now.

A/N: This chapter came to me in a burst of inspiration after all the extremely supportive comments. Next one might take a bit longer as I’ll be taking a much needed break during the weekend and will only have time to write next week. So hope you’ve enjoyed so far :) Hope you liked the little guest appearances of all the BAU members. Thank you for reading this far! More chapters on their way. – Cat

Taglist: @lil-stark @beeblisss @rexorangecouny @writer-in-theory

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #cbs criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer x y/n #dr reid #dr reid x reader #dr reid x you #spencer reid #dr spencer reid

[parkerslatte]

Every Step of the Way

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: drug use

Word Count: 1k

Summary: After not returning her calls, Y/N heads over to Spencer’s apartment where she witnesses something she wished she hadn't.

MASTERLIST

***

Y/N knew that there was something up with Spencer when he didn’t return any of her calls. Ever since he was kidnapped and tortured by Tobias Hankle, she had been keeping a close eye on him. Every night she would call to check up on him and she would make sure he was okay every morning. Normally Spencer would return her calls or if he missed it, he would call her back. This time he didn't, which worried Y/N.

After she had called him four times and she didn’t get a response, she immediately hopped in her car and drove to Spencer's apartment. It was nearly midnight but Y/N didn't care - all that mattered to her was Spencer. He could've just been sleeping or even in the shower but Y/N still wanted to check on him. 

When Y/N got to Spencer's apartment, she sprinted up the many stairs. By the time she got to his apartment she was out of breath. Locating where Spencer kept his spare key, she unlocked his apartment. She stepped inside and everything was eerily silent. The shower wasn't running so that distinguished that possibility. Noticing that Spencer's bedroom door was shut, Y/N headed over to it.

She knocked on the door, "Spencer?"

There was no response. 

This time she knocked a little louder, "Spencer?" 

Again, no response.

If he was asleep, Y/N felt guilty about what she was about to do next. Twisting the door knob she opened his bedroom door. His room was empty - he wasn't in there. Sighing, Y/N stepped into it. His bed was still made showing that he didn’t even sit on it. The bag that he was constantly using for work was thrown down by the foot of his bed. He was in here somewhere.

Approaching the bathroom door, Y/N knocked, "Spence? Are you in there? I'm sorry for intruding but I just wanted to know if you were okay."

If it wasn't so silent in his apartment, Y/N wouldn't have been able to hear it but there was a small amount of shuffling coming from inside the bathroom.

"Spence? Are you okay?" Y/N questioned but there was no response.

"I'm going to come in if that's okay?" Y/N said, her hand reaching for the door handle.

"Don't come in." Spencer mumbled from the other side of the door. 

“Why not? Are you okay?” Y/N asked, her worry increasing. 

“Just please, don’t come in Y/N.” Spencer said, his voice cracking. 

“Spencer, you know that I love you and that I always respect your wishes but I’m coming in, I’m worried about you.” 

“Y/N, please…”

Y/N pushed open the door and found Spencer curled up on his bathroom floor, his sleeve rolled up and an empty syringe in his hand. Spencer’s shoulder’s shook as he cried silently. 

“I told you not to come in.” Spencer mumbled. 

“And I did anyway,” Y/N said, sitting down on the floor in front of Spencer. Gently she took the empty syringe out of his hand, placing it on the sink. Spencer watched her movements with caution, afraid that she would abandon him. 

As soon as she placed the syringe on the sink, Y/N immediately wrapped Spencer in her arms. Her hand held the back of his head as the other rubbed up and down his back soothingly as he sobbed into her shoulder. Spencer’s hand clung onto the fabric of Y/N’s shirt tightly, afraid to let go. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” Y/N whispered into his ear. 

“I’m sorry…” Spencer mumbled.

“No, no, don’t apologise, don’t apologise.” Y/N said.

Y/N couldn’t tell how long they sat in the bathroom for but it had been a while. There was a dull ache in her back but she didn’t care, the only thing she cared about was Spencer. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Y/N questioned, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Y/N felt Spencer shake his head and grip onto her a little tighter.

“Okay, well if you don’t want to talk about it, do you just want to lay down on your bed, it’s going to be a lot more comfortable than your bathroom floor?” Y/N asked and this time Spencer nodded. 

Y/N helped Spencer up from the floor and he stood on shaky legs, practically all his weight was on Y/N. Once she helped him to his bed, he immediately laid down and pulled Y/N down with him, feeling safe and comforted in her embrace. 

“I’m here Spence, I’m not gonna leave you.” Y/N said. 

For the first time, Spencer made eye contact with her. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy from where he had been crying. Y/N brought her hand up to his face and wiped his tears away. Spencer closed his eyes to savour the feeling, however once he realised that Y/N didn’t remove her hands, he opened his eyes again, finding Y/N looking at him with loving eyes. 

“Why are you still here?” Spencer asked. 

“Because I will always be here for you Spencer,” Y/N muttered, “And nothing is ever going to change that in a million years.”

“I need help.” Spencer said, causing Y/N’s heart to break.

“And I’ll be here for you every step of the way no matter what.” Y/N responded. 

“Thank you Y/N.” Spencer said.

“There’s no need to thank me, Spence,” Y/N said, “Anything you need help with at any time, call me, I’ll always answer.”

Y/N shuffled towards Spencer on the bed and pressed a kiss against his forehead, “I love you Spencer.”

“I love you too…” He mumbled as he rested his head in the crook of her neck. 

“Just promise me one thing.” Y/N said.

“What?” 

“If you are struggling with anything, tell me because we will get you through it together.” Y/N muttered against his forehead.

“I promise.” Spencer said. 

TAGLIST

@spenxerslut @averyhotchner @drayshadow @moviequeen51 @spencer-reid-am-i-right @ssavanessa22 @amurderofcrowsinatrenchcoat @mbjackie @jklemps @reformedmoneyshovel @nomajdetective @jesuisbenny @jooniehomie @spencerreid-187 @onyourfingertips @uhuhuh @rubyhi208-42 @archer561 @c0rpsecore @sweetandsunny @zoeygraygubler @algonsa @jswessie187 @shemarmooresfedora @kaz-2y567 @alfonsais @aikrus @nani-2305 @death-becomes-her @sarejane @isabelle-558 @measure-in-pain @the-nerd-gang @manuosorioh @luredwithpretzels @ceeellewrites @totallyclearwitch @jekkles @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @sarahpaulsonlov3r @periwinklemax @kuolonsyoja @heartmira @hoodpankow @parahmur @happymangospot @beepbooptoop @ilovespencerreidmarryme @spencesoulmate25 @bloodyxheaven @malindacath

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler

[idmakeitbehave]

Birthday Wishes

Summary: Mid-panic attack, Spencer finds himself thinking of only one thing: he can’t ruin your birthday

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Genre: hurt/comfort

CW: panic attacks, trouble breathing, mention of alcohol

It’s loud.

It’s loud and it’s sticky and all Spencer can focus on is how hard it suddenly is to breathe. Mere minutes ago he had been having a relatively decent time—or, at least, had been trying to—and now it feels like all of the oxygen in this cramped, overcrowded bar has evaporated.

He’s the only one still at the table: Penelope and Derek are out on the dance floor, Hotch and Rossi are over by the darts, and JJ and Emily have dragged you to the bar with promises of ‘one more birthday drink,’ even though it’s never just one with them.

It’s not even that Spencer had been particularly enjoying himself before he’d been left all alone. It was just that it was easier to shove down the panic when he was talking to you—or even just near you, really. The volume, the stickiness, even the stale scent of beer had all seemed less overwhelming when he had you to focus on. Now he keeps scanning the bar, trying in vain to slow his breathing.

He doesn’t always feel like this when they go out. Honestly, he usually enjoys himself more often than not. These instances, this panic? They only happen every so often and, much to Spencer’s chagrin, he has yet to be able to pinpoint an exact cause or preventative measures he can take.

All of this to say, he’s now incredibly, maddeningly frustrated that it’s happening right now—on your birthday of all days.

He keeps trying to talk himself out of it before it becomes a full blown anxiety attack, but he knows that it’s useless. Tears sting his eyes and he furiously blinks them away—and then he sees that you’re slowly making your way back to the table, Emily and JJ close behind.

You’re smiling so widely, so radiantly, that it seems out of place given the dread that’s filling Spencer. You laugh at something Emily said, and even though he can’t hear it, he knows exactly how bright and brilliant it is. And that’s when he knows: he can’t be here anymore. He can’t ruin your birthday.

He pulls his bag up onto his shoulder and stumbles through the crowd, desperate to get out before you spot him, before finally pushing through the exit and out onto the blissfully empty sidewalk. He slumps onto a nearby bench, his head in his hands.

He still can’t catch his breath, can’t stop his ears from ringing. He waits for it to pass, but it doesn’t. His phone rings, your contact photo lighting up the tiny screen, although he can barely make it out given the spots dancing in his vision. He declines the call.

Eventually, he gives up and leans forward, head between his knees and the tears that he had been holding back finally falling.

And that is how you find him only a moment or two later. He hears you before he sees you, feels the bench shift under your weight, hears your soft murmur of “Spence.”

“I’m sorry,” he manages to choke out, the words sounding like they belong to someone else. He sits up, just a little, head still in his hands. He can barely look at you, he’s so deeply, instantaneously embarrassed.

Not to mention, he still can’t breathe.

“Is there anything I can do?” you ask.

“I—I don’t know.”

“Can I touch you?”

He barely hears it above the ringing, but he somehow manages a curt little nod. Faster than he can process, your arms are around him. You squeeze tightly, once, then twice, and his head drops down to your shoulder at the unexpected relief that your touch provides. Your fingers are suddenly in his hair, traveling in a soothing, repetitive motion from the top of his head down to the nape of his neck. Without even realizing it, he starts to match your breathing, the sound of your steady heartbeat just barely discernible above the surrounding din.

Spencer doesn’t even dare to move until the ringing stops and he’s able to blink away the blurriness, until it no longer feels like his world is about to slide out from under his feet. He squeezes his eyes shut, reassuring himself that it had finally, finally passed, before pulling out of your embrace and sending a sad, guilt-ridden look your way.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, because, really, what can he say?

“You don’t need to be sorry.” You say it as though it’s a fact, simple and true. Spencer wishes he could believe you.

“You should go back inside.”

You shake your head. “I’m not going back in.” Your eyes widen at the way that Spencer’s fill almost instantly with tears at your words. “Hey, hey, hey. Why are you crying, love?” The little nickname slips out easily—it’s the least that Spencer deserves, if you were being completely honest. If it were up to you, you’d be calling him love for the rest of your life.

“I didn’t want to ruin your birthday,” he sniffs out. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

“Yes—yes, I did. You should be in there having fun with all of your friends.”

He’s staring resolutely at his hands now, and you ever so gently reach out and turn his face towards you. “I should be right here,” you say. “I should be wherever you are.”

Spencer’s almost certain that he’s just imagining this, that he’s just manufacturing this one perfect moment in his sudden state of exhaustion, but then you press a soft kiss to his cheek and he realizes—this is really happening.

“Besides,” you laugh, “I already told them that I wanted to spend the rest of my birthday with you.”

Spencer’s eyes search yours as he waits for the punchline, but it doesn’t come, and you’re smiling at him so widely that he thinks to himself—not for the first time—that he wants to see that smile every day for the rest of his life. He has to bite his lower lip in an effort to stop it from trembling at the sincerity in your voice, at the pure affection in your eyes.

“Okay?” you ask.

He nods. “Okay.”

You take his hand in yours, and you decide instantly that you’re never going to let him go. “So—your place or mine?”

+++

Tags:

@diesinspanishbcimhispanic @myglitteringstardust @sapphic-prentiss @fandom-monium @julialuv1d @howdycharlie @fantastic-fans @saspencereid @whxt-to-write @90spumkin @idocarealot @moonstarrnghtsky @thelovelyrose @closetedreidstan @averyhotchner @tripleyeeet @rainsong01 @multifandomegan @no-honey-no @bauhousewife @shadybagelsludgecolor @idiotinnit @elldell1204 @gublersbooblers @calm-and-doctor @shadyladyperfection @homoose @wheelsup @writingintheroses @reidingmelodies @spenxerslut @imdefinitelyfloating @spacedikut @spencerreid9 @sweetandsunny @cynbx

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfic #imib blurb #imib writes

[strawberryspence]

..What if I use the flower emoji..and ask you to watch the most angsty episode? 😂

if you say zugzwang i am blocking you

#dae celebrates 300 #sweetandsunny talks

[mayoanddelight]

Nightmare 😬

HOLY SHIT, THE AMOUNT OF TIMES THIS HAS HAPPENED.

Moral of the story: never give your friend your phone, things are bound to go nuclear (I made a reference, please get it 😂)

#mooney 🌙 #sweetandsunny talks #ngl #The amount of lies I had to say to cover shit up #no regerts tho #😂

[mctherofdragons]

from the ground up // s.r.

summary / you and spencer just moved into your brand new house, and you figure this is the perfect time to tell spencer the news that you're expecting. coincidentally, spencer already had a different surprise planned.

pairing / spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

warnings / pregnancy, mentions of food, cohabitation, engagement/proposal, brief mention of Spencer being autistic. other than that it's just really sticky sweet fluff. :)

author's note / i'm feeling really bummed today for no apparent reason, so i figured some dad!spencer fluff was in order.  the title is from the song "from the ground up" by dan & shay. ps: my tag list is open! please join my taglist using the link in my nav. <3

You placed the final box onto the floor, looking over at Spencer with a happy smile gracing your features. He took the lapse in the labor of carrying in boxes to sit next to you on the floor. With his own grin, he pulled you into his side, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

"Sorry I'm sweaty and gross," you laughed, acknowledging how exhausting it had been to carry furniture and bulky belongings since early that morning.

Spencer chuckled, tossing his wavy, brunette hair out of his face. He looked at you for a moment like perhaps you had hung the moon. He did this often, simply taking in how beautiful you were and half-pinching himself that he was so lucky.

"Love, are we just not going to talk about the fact that I did most of the carrying? I damn near broke my back carrying that side table on my own."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out if this would be the right time to tell Spencer why exactly you had declined to carry anything heavy that day.

Your doctor had told you to be careful during the move. You were just through your first trimester, after all. It was still early enough that no one would know you were showing, and at this stage of pregnancy, things were still touch-and-go. You didn't want to risk losing the pregnancy, so you'd come up with the excuse of your ankle hurting to avoid doing any strenuous activity.

You took a deep breath before beginning to speak. The joy and hope in your voice were evident as you quipped back to Spencer with the news.

"Well, the doctor told me not to lift anything too heavy...because of the baby."

Spencer stopped for a moment, his mouth falling open akin to a fish. "The...what?"

You took Spencer's hands into your own, which were warm and slightly shaking. You pressed them to your abdomen. Spencer felt the vinyl lettering of your Federal Bureau of Investigations tee-shirt beneath his fingertips.

Spencer had fallen in love with you fast and innocently. It started when you'd helped him with his fitness test, and he helped you with the applications for your doctorate. You'd become a part of the BAU family in no time, but a part of you clung closest to the boy wonder himself.

As your relationship progressed, you realized you had more in common with Spencer than you had differences. You bonded over your love of Russian literature, Doctor Who, and sweets. You accepted him fully for who he was, so much as carrying fidgets in your go-bag, just in case Spencer needed them on the jet.

He felt the tears brimming his eyes as the realization hit him that you were carrying his child.

Spencer looked up and cupped your face in your hands. You giggled loudly as he pulled you into a deep kiss. You could feel his elated tears on your own cheeks, which caused you to tear up, too.

He pressed his forehead to yours. You reached up and cupped your hands around his large ones that were still holding your face affectionately.

"So you're happy Spencer? Really...truly happy?"

Spencer nodded, pulling you into another small set of peckish kisses. You laughed again, letting him pull away from you.

You watched as he rearranged himself, getting onto one knee. You looked stunned, trying to figure out what was happening. By the time your brain caught up, it had dawned on you that Spencer was pulling a small ring box from his pocket.

"We've both b-been keeping something a secret, I guess, y/n," He smiled, opening the box slowly.

"Spencer..."

The ring was absolutely stunning, sitting among the black velvet lining of the box. It was a simple - yet clearly expensive - diamond set upon white gold. It was timeless and felt like a beautiful representation of Spencer's love for you.

"I love you...more than I thought it was possible to love anyone. Will you...marry me, y/n?"

"Spencer...," the tears were falling down your faster than you could stop them. You took a shaky breath and stuck your hand out, nodding frantically.

"Of course, of course, I'll marry you!"

You both laughed with relief as Spencer slid the ring onto your finger. He pulled you by your hips into him, letting your lips crash together. You took a moment to relish in the kiss, feeling your lips move against Spencer's soft plush ones.

Just then the door swung open, revealing Rossi, who was carrying a large dish in his hands. Behind him stood the rest of the team, awkwardly illuminated in the light of the doorway.

You wiped your tears away as both you and Spencer stood up.

"Interrupting something? I brought my famous chicken parmesan," Rossi said, lifting the dish up to show you both.

"We wanted to come celebrate your new place!," Penelope gleamed, holding up two bottles of red wine.

"We both have news. But, come on in. It's a lot. I won't be able to have any of that wine, Penny," you grinned, walking over to take the dish from Dave.

Penelope's mouth fell agape as she watched you place a hand on your tummy. She let out an excited squeal, eliciting a loud laugh from Spencer.

"Come on, come on, we have the dining room set up already...," ___________________________

criminal minds taglist / @hufflepuffhaze @ssavanessa22 @omghufflepuff @txtdreamss @awritingtree​ @sweetandsunny​ 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Secure Me [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

Find my masterlist here. Requests are Open.

Taglist is open, you can find the form here.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: from Anon - “Hi, can I request something about reader dating spencer and she has like an A cup or very small boobs, and she catches spencer staring at a women with big boobs and gets VERY insecure? I just always feel weird reading fics about reader having a cleavage when I’m a literal wood board :("

A/N: I really hope this is the kind of thing you were after! I want to preface this by saying all bodies are beautiful and hopefully this is just a nice body positive fic for you all to enjoy!

CW: just some good old fun titty sucking! Booby appreciation.

Plot: You catch Spencer gawking over a woman with much larger breasts than you. Spencer is determined to show you how much he loves your body and only your body.

WC: 1K

—————————————————————

It wasn’t as if you were usually an insecure person. Honestly you were more confident than most, and most of the time you were happy with the body you were given.

Most of the time.

That is until you notice your boyfriend Spencer staring at that woman in the coffee shop.

It took a moment to work out what he was looking at but when you did you felt like you’d just been slapped around the face.

He was staring right at the woman’s very pronounced chest, wide eyed and slack jawed.

“Unbelievable.” You muttered under your breath but Spencer didn’t hear you. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

You weren’t mad at the fact he was looking at another woman, you still found other people attractive, it wasn’t a big deal. It was the fact he was staring at her large bosom, and it sent a wave of insecurities bubbling under the surface.

Your own breasts paled in comparison, you were barely an A cup but Spencer had always told you how much he loved them and you’d never had a problem with them before.

Until now. Because he was staring at that woman’s chest like she was some kind of chess trophy he wanted to win.

What made it even worse was when you got up from the table, he didn’t even notice.

You scoffed loudly as you stormed from the coffee shop, turning back briefly when you reached the street to see if Spencer was following you or not.

He wasn’t.

With another huff you stormed away.

***

It wasn’t long before there was a knock at your apartment door. You considered ignoring it, but you knew Spencer well enough to know he wouldn’t give up that easily.

You threw the door open and folded your arms across your chest.

“Where did you go?” He looked concerned. “I turned away for a second and when I turned back you’d gone.”

“It was much more than a second.” You huffed. “And I’m surprised you noticed what with that big titted woman you had eyes glued on.”

Spencer’s face fell and he gnawed his bottom lip guiltily.

“Oh.” He pulled a face. “There’s no point in even trying to talk my way out of this is there?”

“Nope.”

“Can I please come in?”

You sighed heavily and with a roll of your eyes you stepped aside to let him in.

“I’m really sorry Y/N. I’m not going to lie to you, I was looking at her chest and I’m so sorry. But you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Don’t I?” You scoffed. “I don’t look like her, Spencer! And if you’d rather have someone like that with massive tits then I’d rather you just say so.” You felt tears welling in your eyes and Spencer clearly noticed because he came closer to you and put his hands on your hips.

“Are you kidding me?” He looked sad. “Why would I want anyone but you?”

A small tear escaped your eye as you chewed your lip.

“Look at me Spencer, mine are barely even a handful. I get it if you want to be with someone like her.”

His own tears formed in his eyes. In that moment he hated himself for making you feel this way.

“Y/N,” he moved his hands to cup your face. “You are perfect in every single way. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

His hands trailed from your face, to your neck and finally moved to cup your breasts over your t-shirt.

“And let me tell you, these are fucking phenomenal.”

“You’re just saying that.” You sniffed.

“I’m saying it because it’s true. I adore every inch of your body. There is no one else in the world I would rather be with.” He still was still cupping your chest, his thumbs running over your nipples and they were hard in no time. “Let me show you how much I love them.”

He led you back towards the couch where he sat down and pulled you onto his lap so you were straddling him. As soon as you sat down he lifted your t-shirt up and pulled it over your head.

He hissed looking hungrily at your bare breasts.

“Fucking perfect.” He breathed, taking his hands to your breasts again.

He tweaked your nipples between his fingers making you moan a little.

He was smiling at you, beaming, he needed to know how perfect he thought you were.

He removed a hand from one of your breasts and bowed his head, taking your hard nipple in between his teeth.

You could feel his dick hardening beneath you from just the simple act.

He toyed with your nipple with his teeth, knowing how much you loved it when he did that. He continued cupping and squeezing your neglected breast with his hand.

He used his tongue to swipe across your nipple a few times before moving his lips over the rest of breast and sucking deep marks on your flesh.

You were moaning and subconsciously grinding your hips into his.

His lips kissed across to your other nipple and he repeated his actions on that one while using his hand on the other.

“You have no idea how perfect these are.” He sat back, giving both your tits a firm squeeze. “Can you not feel how hard I am just from touching them?”

As if to prove his point he bucked his hips a little so you could feel just how hard he was.

“I know, I just got insecure I guess.” You chewed your lip.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way darling.” He squeezed your chest again. “But these are the only tits I want to look at for the rest of my life.” He smiled brightly at you before bowing his head and taking your nipple in his mouth once more.

And as he worked your breasts hungrily, all your insecurities melted away.

—————————————————————

Taglist -

All ships & genres -

@muffin-cup @andiebeaword @mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain @ptrs-prkrs @sexy-dumpster-fire @takeyourleap-of-faith

SR x reader all genres -

@boxofsparklingmuses @frickin-bats @reidandhisgourd @ukai-hoe @dreatine @adoringanakin @amesandpineapples @goldeng1rl8 @dr-spencerr-reidd @90spumkin @battinsonn @sleepretreat @dr-spence-reid @thetiniestsupersoldier @spenxerslut @tvandfanfic @wheelsupscenehater @sunkissglow @sweetandsunny @spencereidsupremacy @bellaswanismysoulmate @manuosorioh @mcumorningstar @iamwarrenspeace @reichelhache @pinkdiamond1016

SR oneshots -

@willowrose99 @multixfandomwriter @rougewamchop

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[reidselle]

PLEASE READ (BYI) /srs !!

here are somethings im really bad about when interacting by having a conversation/talking…

sending long messages (usually a rant) unintentionally

replying to someone in my head but never actually reply, message, or answer (asks) back

starting a (usually lengthy) conversation through replies

keeping a conversation going through replies even after going off topic of the post/first reply

continuously asking questions and unintentionally keeping a conversation that “should” / could of already ended (i honestly just get invested and genuinely curious about literally anything and everything- so i love asking questions and getting to know more.)

overlooking messages, mentions, replies, asks, etc (if u ever need to talk me about anything ASAP please keep messaging me or if u want to stay anonymous keep sending asks!! /srs)

going completely off topic

NOT BEING ABLE TO PICK UP WHEN SOME ISNT BEING SERIOUS/GENUINE OR IS JOKING !!!! (tone indicators i use)

im VERY honest and straightforward when i need to be. if u ask for my opinion or ask me question (that’s nothing too personal) i will be honest- i will also go directly to you and tell you if you’ve ever hurt my feelings or have upset me. (i don’t beat around the bush so please don’t with me- be straightforward and honest as i am with you)

i will always try and talk things out with you personally in a civil manner first and never jump to conclusions.

(this is important so that’s why i’m posting it now but i will be adding this the “byi” section of my welcome post once i get around to making a new one. i also just added the main things and what came to mind i will more than likely update this. )

IMPORTANT REMINDER:

please keep in mind that i am NEURODIVERGENT!! therefore, most if not all of these things are caused by that. this being said if any of these things come to annoy or bother you greatly (or really at all) please just unfollow or better block me (heads up would be appreciated).

thank you for reading (pls like so i know you’ve seen it) !! <33

tagging mutuals to get this around/reblog (don’t feel obligated!!): @simmonsmilf @meganskane @reidslibrarybook @spookyspence @moreidsdaughter @mothmanenthusiasts @fbivestreid @garciaasfluffypen @ellcsgreenaway @baureid @taiposting @raegan-reid @sweetandsunny @frgmntofsociety @starry-eyed-spence

#reidselle announcement #reidselle byi #reidselle important #not cm #not cm related #before you interact #important #neurodivergent

[letarasstuff]

So in case anyone is wondering:

When I talk to people on here, I imagine them as the person or thing that's on their profile pic.

For example: when I message @sweetandsunny I imagine Ariana Grande texting me back.

People with Spencer or Aaron pics? Sorry, but this is you, I don't make the rules.

Nature pics? I imagine that this the view you have right now, I'm looking through your eyes, if it makes sense.

Sorry, this is cursed

[pretty-boys-book-club]

Bylines to my heart - Chapter 3

Summary: You are a young journalist navigating the turbulent job of reporting for a local newspaper in D.C. What happens when you constantly bump into a cute boy genius? Can FBI agents befriend journalists? Can they fall in love with one?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x journalist!Reader, Spencer Reid x y/n, Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Trigger Warning: Reference’s to Maeve Donovan’s death, mentions of Canon-Typical Violence, Mostly Fluff.

A/N: Special mention to my beta reader, @sweetandsunny​ who is an absolute angel and has helped tremendously with this fic!

Previous chapters: 1 | 2

My Masterlist

Turning Page

“Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.” ― Marcus Aurelius

Last week, Spencer's pretty sure he met his soulmate. He was just going to grab some coffee during a case but there she is, basically waiting in there for him like the universe had gift-wrapped her and stuck him in the same precinct only for the two of them to run into each other once again.

The idea of getting coffee was the best one he's had in years because it meant he got to talk to her. She was adorable. He was a dork.

Spencer believes that you can tell a lot about someone from their coffee, with it being a language in itself. He takes note of how nice she is to the barista, how she orders a ‘regular coffee’ and makes sure to explain that she means a drink with cream and sugar, a sign that she must be familiar with New York jargon, something he wants to ask her about later. He also observes that she probably drinks as much coffee as he does. Their conversation flies by so quickly, the hot beverage they occasionally sip on makes their chat even more memorable.

“So, care to explain what exactly an FBI profiler does?”, she asks.

“Profiling is used to identify the person, or persons, behind a crime based on the manner in which the crime is committed, the evidence left behind, and sometimes the type of victims. So by investigating a crime scene, a profiler can make educated guesses as to various aspects of the UnSub-“

“UnSub?”, she interrupts.

“It’s short for unknown subject or unidentified subject, basically the unidentified person whose crimes are being investigated.”

“Okay. So how did you end up in the FBI? I mean, what did you study in college? Criminology or something else?”

“Actually, I got fast-tracked through high school, graduating at the age of twelve." He notices how her eyes widen in admiration. "After a while, I was accepted to a PhD in Mathematics program, then came Chemistry and Engineering. For a while, I considered studying Literature, but I had already read all of the course material. And then I decided to do my Bachelor degree in Psychology and then another one in Sociology. ” he told her. “But I feel less developed in the areas of social and emotional skills than perhaps I would have been had I not been so technically focused," Spencer admitted.

“Quite a story you have, huh? So I take it you learnt to read so fast because of that?”

“I actually grew up learning nearly everything from books. My mother used to be a college professor of 15th century literature so she read all the classics to me.”

“Oh, that’s cute. And certainly explains why I always see you with so many books.”

"You're watching me, are you?" He notices how she laughs, and Spencer feels himself get slightly flushed. “So you’ve probably seen my face of despair, no doubt."

"Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, but I suppose the routine must be rather difficult, yes. So, then, you decided that all that knowledge would be best put to use in catching criminals.”

“Not really. Me and a friend just kind of decided to go to the Academy and there I met—”, he says, blushing. Now he’s close enough to count the lashes around her eyes if he wants. “You know what, enough talking about me, why don’t you tell me why you became a journalist?”

“Well, firstly, at my parents' house, we always discussed the news. Two newspapers were delivered to our house each and everyda. One was for my dad who works as a history teacher at the high school from my hometown, and the other was for my mother, who's a marketing consultant for a company.” Spencer nodded, looking at her wide eyed, soaking everything she's saying, obviously interested in… well, her story. “So even when I was a little girl, their conversations fascinated me. Then I grew up and became captivated by storytelling in general. I’m sort of a free spirit, you could call me, so obviously I was very into literature, art and philosophy. I guess I understand your sense of ‘why didn’t I keep doing that’, in this sense” She makes quotation marks with her hands and he is curious, waiting for her to continue. “So, when the time came, I couldn’t choose just one of my passions, so I got a degree in Comparative Literature, then a Masters in Journalism at Columbia. And somehow was lucky enough to do a bit of both things as a reporter.”

"Wow, that's even a more interesting story than I thought it would be. I thought it was going to be something like 'I was not good at math or science, so that was all that I had left’.”

“Are you saying you told me to come here expecting to have a boring conversation?” She playfully says, with a smirk lighting up her face. Spencer cast his eyes downward as a he feels his cheeks warm. He was embarrassed to have insinuated that.

“No! Of course not. Actually, I was trying to figure out if you're as cool as you seem, and, more importantly, to measure how likely you are to be a potential murderer. You see, it’s a matter of personal safety.”

"Right, Mr. FBI profiler.” She laughs. Spencer looks around, just to see most people either at their phones or working on their computers.

He turns to face her, noticing how she seemed to be thinking the exact same thing. “Isn’t it strange how our society is so disconnected? Everyone’s head down, looking at their mobile. Is this how it was meant to be?”

“Well, come to think of it, phones might be just the contraption that would likely decrease your chance to be associated with crimes. You see, from a young age we've been socialized to not speak with strangers, what you might have heard referred to as 'Stranger Danger'." he says, matter-of-factly. "The whole concept arose when various campaigns ran through USA in the 1960's, which was later spread in other parts of the world, regarding child safety. From an evolutionary standpoint, that makes sense, as every meeting with a stranger has a higher risk of resulting in violence. But it has been criticized for ignoring that the most child abductions and harm result not from strangers, but rather from someone the child knows."

"I guess I get it, but isn't conversation the most humanizing thing that we do? It's when we talk to people that empathy is born, where intimacy is born—because of eye contact, because we can hear the tones of another person’s voice, sense their body movements, sense their presence." She rests her hand on the table and their hands touch for the briefest moment, electricity coursing through both of their bodies.

"Well, I've seen many times at work that sometimes people are not who they seem. Liars can seem honest, cheating spouses can seem loyal, nervous people can seem guilty. People’s facial expressions are not a reliable guide to what they are thinking. Or, to put it in Hamlet’s words, one may smile, and smile, and be a villain. A study found that being around strangers actually raises our levels of cortisol, a hormone that produces stress responses. We use a variety of methods to avoid feeling our emotions, one of them is lying. We want to be agreeable, to make the social situation smoother or easier, and to avoid insulting others through disagreement. It's partly based on wanting to be polite and partly based on self-preservation. We'd rather share a 'preferable truth' than the 'real truth'."

“Okay, but this is the line in the sand. This has to stop. No more insincerity. No more social scripts. Let’s go off the script entirely. Tear the page. Say something outlandish and totally true.”

“So we’re asking each other questions?”

“Yup. And you have to answer one hundred percent honestly.”

“Of course. What do you want to know?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

He thinks for a bit and then answers: “Yes. Okay, next question. What do you think is you —”

“Wait a minute, just a one-word answer?”

“Why not?”, he wondered.

“I, just... So many people, consciously or unconsciously, have this passive way of thinking about love. Like it’s a sensation that magically, spontaneously generates when Mr. or Ms. Right appears. And just as easily, it can spontaneously degenerate when the magic "just isn't there" anymore. You fall in love, and you can fall out of it. It's just so passive. In real life, you can't easily define it.”

“Well, I suppose that's true. Shakespeare did say that 'Love is a smoke and is made with the fume of sighs'. So you’re not one of those people, then, Y/N?”

“I don’t know, I think that you can make it happen. Love is active. You can create it. Love is a choice, not something that just happens to you. You choose to let it happen.”

“You know what this makes me think of?”

“No, what?”

“All those people you briefly intersect with, maybe make eye contact with, and then pass by, we could have done that. Now it’s like…”

“No matter what happens, we have met.” She cut him off.

“Exactly.” Spencer smiled. “It's my turn now. Tell me something that pisses you off.”

She looked at the ceiling, trying to gather her thoughts. Where to start? “I hate small talk. It’s just so boring! Talk about something that inspires you! I don’t care if it’s quantum physics, the books you've read, your favorite scents, your childhood, what keeps you up at night, your insecurity and fears... Anything! Just get to the good stuff. Whatever it may be. I just hate small talk. I'd rather meet that person who asks inappropriate questions and laughs at all the wrong times. I don't want to know 'what's up’.” she continues. “I also hate that I know I need to leave at exactly 8:26pm, because it takes me precisely 34 minutes to get to work, and I’d like to give myself a two minute window to actually get there. Or that occasionally I find myself waking up in the middle of the night to check that my phone alarm is still working.” Being so immersed in each other, an unexpected call to the girl catches both of them by surprise. “Shit. Now I’m going to be late through no one's fault but my own, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” she says as she stands up, and he does the same. She's quick to apologize and thanks him profusely for paying for her drink. So polite.

Then she wraps her arms around him. Spencer accidentally breathes in the scent of her perfume, eyes locking and smiles lingering, he who was inwardly freaking the hell out, breaks out in a goofy grin. She returns the gesture and after a few seconds she pulls back, leaving him seeing in blurs.

He turns around to gather his things to make his way out of the shop, back to the station. He sees her walk outside, cup still in hand, waiting for a taxi just outside the café. Feeling super savvy and not wanting to throw away his shot, he's written his phone number on her cup before handing her drink, before the two even struck out a real conversation, so sure he was that this was a special opportunity he had been given by whatever powerful deity or deities existed. He thought it was the perfect plan for him to seamlessly hand off his number. That way she could reach out to him afterwards, but putting significantly less pressure on her to do so.

He even sees the tiniest of smiles creep up on her face when she notices his handwriting on her cup, on the side of the cup that had been facing him for the entire conversation. Damn, that was smooth. Morgan would be proud.

So now, he can’t stop staring at his phone screen. He, who is usually so technology adverse, keeps checking to make sure that he doesn’t miss a notification. His mind can’t help but wonder when she’ll text him — or whether she'll text at all. Work takes up a good deal of his time, but with such a fast mind, he has enough free time to fill himself with worries.

He’s quick to jump to conclusions. He finds himself more than once thinking that he isn’t good enough for her. That she can’t possibly be interested in a guy like him. That she wants nothing to do with a guy she barely even knows. Did he act too eager? He knows that it really boils down to the fact that all humans are constantly looking for connection and validation. And text messages provide an instant form of that. But still, he’s checked his phone enough times during the workday for Emily to notice.

"Give her some time.”, Prentiss says during a shared car ride between the duo. “Just like you, I’m sure she’s had a few busy days. Don’t worry.”

He can’t stop thinking about her: her kind eyes, her smile, her body. And every time she comes to his mind, he flushes. There is something about her, something… different. And Spencer just can’t put his finger on it.

—

You are now a firm believer that coffee dates are the perfect social interaction. It's so simple. It requires both of you to be yourselves, no space for pretending. You think that maybe that’s why it's so nice, you don’t have enough time to brainstorm any elaborate pre-planned topics of conversation — you have nothing to do except talk, relying on each other to keep the conversation going. And the conversation is electric, all of your jokes make him laugh, you can’t keep smiling.

At first you felt a bit self-conscious, not having time to change clothes, but when fate hands you an opportunity like that, you’re going in the flats and pants you wear to work. And, maybe it’s a bad thing to admit, but the fact that you didn’t have to go through a whole meal during your first significant interaction was a relief.

So as soon as you come home, you stare at your phone wondering what the hell you’re supposed to do next. Do you text? Do you not text? What do you say? How long do you wait before you say it? What if he has his read receipts turned on, and he reads it but doesn't respond immediately, and you spend the next three hours and 45 minutes agonizing how you blew it in only so many words? You’re too busy replaying the splendor of it all — and relaying details to your friends from NYC over the phone — to even think about crafting the perfect text.

You need to have a game plan. Maybe you’ll tell him you saw how they caught the guy behind the terrible murders. Or you send him a photo of a book you want to read and ask if he’s read it before. You can’t decide, and you keep writing and deleting all the text messages you come up with for the next few days.

On day four, you’re convinced that you're approaching a deadline of sorts, and that you need to text him something, anything, if you hope to see him again.

11:23 AM

Y/N: Hi, Spencer, this is Y/N! Just wanted to say hello and see how your day is going. I hope that this is the right number

Y/N: My week is a bit busy with work, but I’m free on Saturday night if you’d like to meet up again!

Spencer 📚☕️: Hey! I’m saving your contact here :] I’m just flying over to a case right now actually, but I’d love to see you on Saturday

Y/N: I hope it’s not a tough one

Y/N: I mean, I know all of the cases are probably pretty tough

Y/N: But I hope you catch whoever did it

Spencer 📚☕️: I hope so too

Y/N: I really meant it when I say that I enjoyed talking to you. It’s hard not to fall for people who quote Shakespeare. And for some random coincidence, I just happen to have two tickets for the new Midsummer Night's Dream production so I thought it was a perfect match haha

Spencer 📚☕️: That sounds like a great plan :] I’ll text you if I get stuck on the case, but count me in

Y/N: Great! Can’t wait xx

You feel your heartbeat speed up. Is this a date? Although neither of you have called it that, you’re sure that has to be clear. Does that mean he’s interested in you? Even more important, you’re sure that you like him a lot, a big difference to the last few times you tried to go out with someone. So this can only mean that it’s extra important to you that your next meeting is a success.

You glance at your clock, it’s almost time for your lunch break. Your mind wanders to Spencer flying away on his FBI jet to somewhere in the country. Does he miss home when he’s gone? Does he bring a couple of books with him or does the jet always have a few to spare? Is he thinking about you too?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by Janet stopping by your desk. She’s looking much better after her sick leave. From what you heard, she’s been a reporter for almost twenty years, one of the most senior members of the newspaper. She’s usually a nice person, although you’ve only talked to her a couple of times.

“Hi, Y/N. Just thought I’d pop over and let you know that you did great last week with the article on the Jameson murders. I read your interview and I’m impressed, really”

“Oh, thanks for letting me know. It really means a lot to me.” You say truthfully. “It was my first time writing about something like that.”

“Really? I would never have guessed it. I was wondering how you even managed to talk to the families of the victims in the first place.” She sits up on your desk, lowering her voice as if telling you a secret.

“Agent Jareau had a part in that.”

“I didn’t know the BAU was involved. She’s a good person, Jareau was their media liaison for a while. Did you get to meet Agent Rossi?” She looks very curious.

“Rossi?” You try to think about someone with that name but come up empty.

“Yeah, he’s one of the guys who founded the BAU, wrote lots of books about being a profiler. Great read, really helped me understand how they do their job. I’ve interviewed him a couple of times during the years about a case or two.”

“I didn’t meet him, I’m sorry. Just Agent Jareau, Agent Hotchner and Spence-I mean, Dr. Reid.” You try to sound casual about it, not wanting to leave your crush so evident. You’re not sure it works.

“Reid is the genius one, right? He’s an odd man, that one.”

“Why is that?”

“Once I asked about a kidnapping and he proceeded to recite the statistics of the past ten years by memory. But he means no harm. He’s about thirty and has already been at the BAU for pretty much a decade.” Janet seems to notice your blush at the mention of Spencer’s name. “I’m sorry, are you two close?” Damn, she’s good at picking up people’s body language.

“Not really, I just had some coffee with him the other day. We’re going out on Saturday night.”

“Oh. My. God.” Janet widens her eyes. A smile appears on her face. “Is it a date?”

“I’m not sure.” You confess. “We’re going to see a play together.”

“Do you want it to be a date?” She enquiries.

“Actually…” you think for a moment. Oh, screw it, you like him and are going for it. “I do.”

“Then it’s definitely a date.” Her smile grows bigger. “Tell me all about it! I still remember when I met my husband, I was so nervous. Do you know what you’re going to wear?”

“Not really, I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“There’s this store down the street, what do you say about grabbing something to eat and then stopping there to see if we find something you like?” She offers. “Lunch is my treat.”

You notice that this is an opening for a chance to make your first friend here. Sure, she’s a bit older than you, but Janet looks like someone genuine and you’ve been so alone lately that you can only benefit from her friendship. You wonder if she feels the same.

“I’d love to.”

—

He knows that most people find it difficult to share their thoughts in front of a crowd of their coworkers and colleagues – a study even proved that at least 20 percent of the population fear public speaking even if just in front of a few coworkers - so he knows that inviting Tara to talk about her previous experiences over coffee may help the newest team member feel comfortable opening up.

Tara joined the FBI as a forensic psychologist, having extensively interviewed several psychopathic criminals to determine whether they were fit for trial or not. Through her job, she has seen many depraved minds up close and personal. So, naturally, Spencer enjoys asking her about the strangest cases she dealt with.

“The weirdest killer I ever worked with was Archie Sutton, the truck stop strangler.”, she tells him.

“Even worse than the Indonesian female cannibal?”, he mentions something he read about on her file.

“Oddly enough, yes. Archie had this strange obsession with talcum powder and butterflies. So he would sprinkle talcum on all of his food and then carry a dead butterfly in his pocket everywhere he went.”

“It's amazing you were able to find something that you could identify with.”, he thinks out loud, and suddenly he’s brought back to the reporter from the week before. It’s a miracle he managed to talk to her as well, for almost an hour, without much effort. So, knowing he’ll see her once again on Saturday, he’s trying to think of topics for the next conversation that don’t involve murders.

Tara explains: “Well, I had to, I met with him every week for a year. It was the only way to establish a therapeutic alliance.”

“What was it you guys had in common?” Spencer suddenly finds himself very interested in this conversation. The two of them start to go back to the conference room.

“We were both obsessed with fossils when we were kids, and both of our mothers attended the same elementary school class. A bizarre coincidence, right?” Spencer pays special attention to the use of the word coincidence. It seems to be following him for the last few days.

“What's a coincidence?”, asks Rossi, turning to see them entering the conference room.

“Tara's mom went to the same elementary school as the Truck Stop strangler's mom.” Spencer points out, the coffee still in his hand.

“Ok, that's a little creepy somehow.” Morgan states.

“Yeah.”

Their conversation is interrupted by Hotch and Garcia telling them they need to go to Los Angeles to investigate a case where a bus was attacked with sarin gas. Spencer launches himself into work mode, he’ll worry about their date once the criminal is caught and the team is flying home. He starts to search his mind for all the statistics and information on sarin gas, eliminating all traces of her. Or rather, he tries. Before boarding the jet, he finds himself thinking about how much he'll have to wait until Saturday.

A/N: Okay, so this chapter was getting too long and I decided to split it in two, so the next part might be coming very soon. Hope you’re enjoying so far :) Thank you for reading! – Cat

✨ Tagging some lovely people ✨ @lil-stark​ @beeblisss​ @rexorangecouny​ @writer-in-theory @silverhetdanes @sideblogforcrimpy @honeyreid @dudeitiskarev

let me know if you spot any grammar mistakes!!

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