All credits and support to original authors: @allsnellthatendsnell @pathologicalreid @story-box @whisperedmeg @burymagdalene @rumplereids @pun1shedbylove @cherrygarcia-07 @girllblogging777 @iamgonnagetyouback @spelledbyreid @dronningreid @l4lenthusiast @avis-writeshq @reiding-writing
↳ When reader has been acting weird lately, Reid thinks she's going to break up with him but she's actually terrified because she has to give him some life-changing news.
main masterlist | complementary part
who? Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
category: angst/fluff
warnings: Reid is hopeless, reader is a little mean because she doesn't know how to deal with the stress of her secret. Both must work on their communication. English is not my first language (if i forget something let me know, this is my first time doing this)
word count: 2.6K
a/n: Hello! Thank you to everyone who took the time to read what i wrote with so much love. I have written books, stories, poems but never a fanfic and i must admit that i enjoyed this a lot. Well, without further ado i hope you enjoy this and let me know if you liked it.
It is said that we should wait for good things. But it is so difficult to wait for them when we find ourselves in such a deep abyss, where we believe that the only thing we need is that warm ray of joy to get us out of the pond, to save us from dying in agony.
Spencer needed that warm ray of joy after Maeve's death. He desperately needed to feel alive again, but he had to wait what seemed like an eternity for you to come into his life.
Yet every devastating event like that leaves wounds that bleed into scars, some take perhaps too long and as the blood pours out, it destroys hope.
That's what happened to Reid. Because the day Maeve died, his hopes of having a wife and children, of having a family, died with her…
You came along a couple of years later. You admit that winning Spencer over was something that took time, it was slow but it was worth every second.
You were also thankful that he wasn't like the other jerks you dated before, who thought you would die for them just because you were the one who made the first move.
And that was the difference between you and Spencer. You never let that get you down, you kept trying until you found the one. Who knew it would be someone with three PhDs? Your trusted tarot reader, duh. But you didn't believe it, the guy seemed too perfect to be real.
But there he was, spinning around in his swivel chair when you first walked into the BAU bullpen.
"Who is he?" you asked with a curiosity you hadn't experienced in years.
"Oh, that's Spencer. One of our resident geniuses." The sweet Penelope Garcia cleared up your doubts.
Spencer.
The name tasted so sweet on your lips, it sounded so right. That was the day you decided he would be for you.
Of course you needed some extra help. You were trying to win over someone who hadn't dated in a long time and was also a bit reserved. Luckily for you, Morgan's advice scared him off so you followed JJ's, although it also helped that he was definitely mhm curious? about you.
Well no, he actually thought you were a little crazy for staring at him so intently from a distance. And he thought you were weird, but he was too so it just made both fit together like puzzle pieces.
The relationship seemed to be going great, both loved each other and he couldn't imagine his life without you. But if Spencer Reid had learned something in his life, it was that happiness lasts much less time than pain.
You were acting a little weird around him lately, you were irritable and he definitely knew you were hiding something.
"I think she's going to break up with me." One day he decided to confess his feelings to Morgan, when they were alone in the conference room.
Morgan frowned and dropped the current case file onto the table. “You’re kidding, right?” But with no response, Morgan knew otherwise. "Reid. She loves you so much it makes me a little sick.”
Reid remained with his worried expression. "She's slow to respond to my texts, she avoids me, and there's definitely something she's not telling me.” He counted your recent actions on his fingers before crossing his arms.
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're profiling her."
Reid frowned. "What? Of course not." Yeah, that means of course yes.
Morgan shrugged. "Just talk to her or ask the girls, they should know something." This time he gave some good advice, not like the ones he used to give you.
Reid did as Morgan told him, but absolutely no one knew what was going on with you. Although everyone agreed that you were definitely hiding something.
You took a sip of coffee. "I watched that movie last night. People said it was really funny but I found it boring, although I admit the plot twist made me cry.” Yes, lately many things made you cry and it wasn't because of your moon in Pisces.
Anderson nodded. "Exactly! I couldn't even finish watching. I fell asleep."
“Anderson, would you excuse us for a minute?" Reid's appearance was a surprise, his insistence on talking to you wasn't.
"Of course, see you later." Then once Anderson left, Reid stood in front of you.
"What's wrong?" He got straight to the point, not like the previous times.
"Me? Nothing's wrong, I'm perfectly fine." But the drumming of your fingers on your coffee glass gave you away.
"Oh, of course." He crossed his arms, oh no, it seems his infinite patience turned out to be finite.
You immediately took a defensive stance. "Yes. I was perfectly fine before you came to interrupt my conversation with Anderson."
"About movies?" He didn't say it, but you knew he thought it was a nonsense, at least now that he was definitely irritated.
“Yes!" Your outburst earned you a few glances from the other agents. But both were too wrapped up in the tense conversation to deal with them.
"Sure, you have time to talk to other people about movies, but you don't even say a damn good morning to me.” You had to be careful what you said, you were in unfamiliar territory now, as Reid didn't usually swear.
"You're overreacting." Yeah... That probably wasn't the most brilliant thing you've ever said, but you were trying not to give away your secret, at least not yet.
“Overacting?” He was offended by your words. “You talk to everyone in the building except me. You used to spend as much time with me as possible, did I do something wrong?” A hint of fear and insecurity crept into his annoyed tone.
You shook your head. “Of course not.”
He put his hand on your shoulder. “Then tell me what’s wrong.” His tone was firm, but not harsh. Although it was obvious that he wasn't making a request of you.
"Spencer, I already told you that nothing is wrong with me." You emphasized the nothing.
He exhaled in frustration, he was 90% sure that this would work. "Fine! Then don't tell me anything." His patience had run out and he wasn't going to beg you anymore. It had been a week like this and he couldn't take it anymore, so he let go of your shoulder and walked away without even looking at you or giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek.
∗⋅✧⋅∗
Everything was dark, you reached for the light switch and then the spotlight illuminated your apartment. It was a less warm space without Spencer there.
You sighed before throwing your bag on the couch and closed the door.
You stood there for a couple of minutes staring at the lonely space. Well since you became Spencer Reid's girlfriend there weren't many lonely nights, mornings or afternoons.
You would definitely prefer him to be here right now, rambling or mumbling a foreign language movie to you. But for now you had to keep your secret, and that meant keeping Reid away.
The growl of your stomach snapped you out of your mind, so you headed straight for the fridge. But the smell of something made you nauseous, so you immediately ran to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach on the toilet.
Yes. You had to hurry to sweeten this horrible memory with a concerned Spencer who would hold your hair and rub your back while you threw up.
After dinner and take a warm shower, you were tired enough to do anything else, so you settled into bed to sleep. But your brain had other plans…
"You look... not very awake." Tara commented as soon as you dropped your coat on the back of your chair.
"I only slept three damn hours," you nearly growled before throwing yourself into the chair and running your hands over your face. You needed a liter of coffee.
Tara stopped typing on her computer and looked at you. "Is this something to do with your strange behavior the last week?" When she got no response, she said your name seriously.
You pulled your hands away from your face. “I…” you began to fiddle with the rings on your fingers, the burden of unspoken words beginning to weigh on your shoulders. "God, why does everyone suddenly care about my fucking life?" You opted for annoyance as the perfect disguise for your vulnerability.
"Hey. None of us want to bother you, but we care about your life because we are your friends and we love you." Tara used a serious tone, like a scolding, but there was genuine affection behind her words. "Besides, Reid is suffering because of your attitude."
A pang of guilt hit your chest. “I don’t want to hurt him.” You whispered.
“I know.” She walked over to your desk. “But you’re hurting him, even if you don’t mean to.”
You swallowed before looking up. "It's just that there's something..." You took a deep breath, this was harder than you thought. "Things are changing, things are definitely going to change if I say this, it's going to be real and I don't know how to feel about it. I need someone to tell me what to do, because I feel so lost."
Tara placed one of her hands over yours. "Well, if I'm going to help you, I need you to tell me what's wrong." Her voice was warm.
"I want Spencer to know first." But your half-hearted answer was enough for her to know.
"In that case you should tell him, because none of his PhDs include mind reading." She made a little joke that actually made you smile.
"Yeah, I know. He'll probably solve everything out like he always does." Then you looked straight at his empty desk, at the nameplate: Spencer Reid. "But I want to give him a surprise, something that will make him happy. I can't just walk up and say hey…” Then you forced yourself to close your mouth when you realized you were going to say more than necessary, although in reality Tara already had her suspicions.
"Okay, I'll help you." She sounded very determined and you really appreciated her help and that she wouldn't question you as much as the others.
∗⋅✧⋅∗
You spun around in your chair and then had an epiphany, but not like the Taylor Swift song. "Crossword!" Your excitement got you the looks of several agents in the bullpen, luckily one of them was Tara.
"With a secret message?"
"Yes. It's literally the best way." You said excitedly.
But in your mind everything was easier than it really was.
You ruffled your hair as you forced yourself to think more, giving you a splitting headache. "When did I think this would be a good idea? Doing a crossword puzzle for the average person is easy, but not for a genius with an IQ of 187." You dropped your head onto your desk.
"You need help."
"But who's as smart as Spencer?" You muttered defeated, still with your head hidden between your arms and the wood of the desk.
Someone ruffled your hair. “Mhm. Tesla? Einstein?”
You immediately raised your head, only to see the famous Derek Morgan. “They’re dead.” You snorted.
Morgan raised his hands in peace. "Hey, what's the bad mood, baby girl? I just answered your question." He let out one of his signature laughs.
You rolled your eyes. You wished you could turn off some damn switch that was responsible for making you so easily angry. God, WHY? You were starting to get desperate.
"Blake!" Another epiphany, you were really on top of it. You didn't even explain it to Tara, you just ran to the parking lot to get your phone which you had forgotten in the car.
Alex Blake was happy to help you put together a crossword puzzle for Spencer. Although she warned you that he once solved one in about five minutes.
Yeah, well, you were going to take the risk.
Once the crossword puzzle with the secret message was ready, you set out to find Reid.
As you were leaving Garcia's office he was getting out of the elevator, but he didn't even notice you. He continued on his way and god, why did he look so attractive?
"Spencer." You caught up to him as he walked up the stairs.
"Not now, I'm busy." He replied with a seriousness not typical of him.
"With what?" You frowned.
"I said I'm busy." I didn't even look at you as he continued walking to the conference room.
You called out to him, but he ignored you. “We need to talk.” You said seriously, raising your voice.
He stopped in his tracks immediately, freezing halfway. He had never experienced anything like this before, but he knew well what we need to talk meant.
He turned to look at you, with an expression that betrayed nothing of what he truly felt. "I said I'm busy, we'll talk later." That didn't convince you. “I have to do a geographic profile and you have to work on victimology like Hotch asked you to.”
The end was near? You were beginning to doubt and he was very sure, only that he would delay it as much as he could.
∗⋅✧⋅∗
You were about to give up, but you really needed him to know. So you resorted to plan B.
"Derek Morgan, my favorite person in the world." You appeared in front of him, with a big smile.
Morgan let out a light laugh. "Yeah sure, what can I do for you, gorgeous?"
"I think Spencer is upset with me."
"He definitely is." He said it without hesitation and it definitely didn't help the state of your aching heart.
"Okay..." You handed him the crossword puzzle. "Could you please give him this for me?"
He picked up the crossword puzzle. "If you think he's going to forgive you for avoiding him for a week just by giving him a crossword puzzle that he'll finish in two seconds, you might be right."
"Just give it to her, okay?"
"Of course. But in exchange for Penelope being the godmother.”
You immediately frowned, but you reacted a little late because Morgan had already left to deliver your order.
From your desk you watched everything. From how Morgan entered the conference room to give Spencer the crossword puzzle to how the bastard answered it in five minutes. When it took you like three hours to do.
But the best part was when he realized the secret message and ran out of the conference room.
But when he saw you, his quickened steps took on a much, much slower pace.
"Tell me what's true." His low tone sounded like a plea.
A slight smile appeared on your face. "Yeah. That's why I've been acting weird, you know I can't keep secre-"
Your words were cut off when his lips met yours. In a kiss so sweet and soft that it was enough to dispel every single one of your doubts.
A few seconds later, he pulled away from the kiss, leaving you wanting more.
He caressed your cheek with his thumb. "You didn't have to do a crossword puzzle to tell me you were pregnant."
"I wanted to surprise you." You whispered.
A smile that could light up this whole town formed on his lips. "I love you so much." He then kissed you warmly again.
And so it was that the foundations that had crumbled with Maeve's death slowly re-emerged. They began to build themselves again with your arrival and now with this news, their foundations were stronger than ever, because at last he was going to have the family he had dreamed of for a tortuous time.
I can't believe this baby is already a year old 😭💗 It was the first fanfic I ever wrote and it received so much love that I will always be grateful to those who took the time to read what I wrote with so much love.
↳ A recent event led Reader and Reid to explore a new dimension in their relationship, unearthing something Reid has been avoiding: the moment his girlfriend finally met his daughter.
main masterlist | my previous fanfic
who? Spencer Reid!Single dad x Fem!Reader
category: fluff with a bit of angst
warnings/tags: Unspecified age gap, mention of sex, Reid being stubborn and overprotective, vague mention of a case, minor injuries to reader caused during the case, arguments and mentions of past relationships. English isn't my first language.
word count: 4.0K
a/n: Hi, I'm so sorry for being so inactive, in fact this baby was hiding in my closet collecting dust. But I love the concept and the title, so I'll finally let this see the light of day. I hope you love this as much as I love writing it. Anyway I'll be working on some one shots, the second part of one of my fanfics ;) and the end of change the ending.
The lights went out, the doors closed, the paths were just alleys with huge, cold walls preventing from going any further. Having to keep going back to the beginning was starting to get tiring.
People say going backwards is also a way of moving forward, but Spencer never felt that way.
He had a demanding but stable job and a beautiful five-year-old daughter who needed him. "Why keep wasting time looking for someone who will never come?" No matter how lonely he felt, it was time for him to accept that what he had now was all he'd have until the end of his days, and he wouldn't let some shallow love interest take that away from him.
But when the heart truly wants something, it doesn't matter how high the walls are. Especially if the unscientifically proven fate wants to make a special appearance.
That's when you came in, appearing like the brightest bolt of lightning in the storm. But not the kind you run away from—no, it was the kind you take a chance on and chase, which is exactly what Spencer did.
It was as if the switch in his mind that was responsible for overthinking had flipped off, and in another way, that gave him the greatest peace.
Although it's not like he took it too seriously because he was at risk of falling hard, and you weren't exactly the type of girl who immediately sought a long-term commitment. He couldn't even blame you. You're younger than him and the newest member of the BAU. You still have a lot of life left to live; you have time to experience, something he no longer has the luxury of.
Especially not after today. No matter how good the sex was, the way your hands roamed his skin… No, he couldn't think about that when his daughter was involved. Anything more involved with you could have dire consequences, and he got a taste of that after you recklessly risked your life today, like nothing else mattered. And maybe he was exaggerating a little, but that man was only trying to protect his broken heart, though maybe there was more to that feeling than just caution.
You turned off the conference room light. Everyone had (almost) already gone home; it was the only thing they especially wanted after such a tough case. Unfortunately, you had to stay to prepare the presentation for the next case.
You sighed heavily before heading down the steps, but you couldn’t head straight for the elevator since it was your habit to glance at Spencer’s desk upon arrival and departure. You expected the space to be empty, but the dim light from the lamp illuminated his beautiful features, the curl falling over his forehead, and a glimpse of his index finger chasing the letters written in the book resting on his desk.
Your legs took their course before your brain could process anything. “I thought you’d already left.” you mumbled into the darkness.
“I was waiting for you.” It took him a couple of seconds to look up from his book, but once his tired eyes met yours, you knew he was definitely annoyed with you. “Nice shirt, by the way” he commented when his eyes finished scanning you.
You looked at him in confusion for a few seconds before looking down at your lilac shirt, the exact same color as Spencer's. "Thanks?" You smiled slightly when you realized you were matching. The day had been so hard that you hadn't noticed that detail, when in reality you used to memorize every detail about him.
Spencer closed his book before getting up from his chair. “Shall I take you to your apartment?” He asked before putting on his coat.
“We live in the same building” you replied as he slung his briefcase over his shoulder.
“That’s not what I asked, darling.” You didn’t like the way his voice betrayed his annoyance, but he was still concerned for you. “I’d rather take you home, in case you faint.” His eyes flicked down to the wound above your eyebrow before looking directly into your eyes, penetrating your soul.
Instinctively, you brought your hand to the long cut that covered part of your eyebrow. “It’s just a scratch.” You downplayed it, even though it was clearly more than that. Fortunately, the bruises on your ribs were hidden under your shirt. “It’s not like I’m going to die from it.” You avoided calling him dramatic or exaggerated, though your tone betrayed what you meant.
Spencer decided to ignore your comment. “Besides, we need to talk.” Oh, that didn’t sound good.
∗⋅✧⋅∗
“Am I in trouble?” You asked once you were in the car with him.
Spencer finished putting on his seatbelt before starting the car. “It’s not exactly like that.” He didn’t even look at you. “But I’m definitely mad at you.” You didn’t expect that kind of honesty; you simply assumed it because he wasn’t very direct when he was angry. He preferred to isolate himself until the feeling subsided and then talk objectively with you, but this time he had an urgency to talk that made you suspicious.
You suspected the reason for his annoyance, but you needed a more concrete answer than a vague one. “Why-?” He interrupted you.
“We both know this won’t be a pleasant conversation, so to avoid an accident, It will be better if we wait until we’re back at my apartment to discuss this properly.” His tone left no room for argument, and he actually had a good point on his side.
“Your apartment?” You whispered. You’d never been to his apartment before, as that would imply a possible presence in Maddie’s life, something neither of you were prepared for. And your presence in his daughter’s life might not be permanent, or so Spencer said when you asked him. But now that you thought about it, it’s like he always had one foot out of this relationship…
“My apartment.” He confirmed.
“What about your daughter?” You asked tentatively.
“She must be asleep by now.” He replied matter of factly.
Your mind played tricks on you when you started to think that of course he wouldn't risk having you in his apartment if there was a chance you and Maddie would run into each other. Inevitably, a grimace formed on your lips.
Spencer let out a long breath. “I’m not trying to hide you.” It’s like he can read your mind.
“It seems so.” You blurted out.
“Well, you can’t blame me for not wanting you to meet my daughter when there’s a very big chance you’ll never see her again after tonight.” He spoke in a rush, without pausing, as if he’d been holding back those words for a long time and was finally going to snap.
You stared at him in astonishment. “Is that what this is all about? Are you going to break up with me?” You tried to sound angry, but your tone only betrayed pain…
Spencer looked away from the road to look at you. “No” he whispered, but there was still the doubt. “I don’t know, it’s not a decision I can make that easily.” He murmured, his gaze fixed on you for a couple more seconds before returning to the road.
You leaned back in your seat and remained silent for a couple of seconds, which, although few, felt like an eternity to Spencer. “I don't want to finish, and if you want, fine, but I hope your argument is really good; that's the least I deserve.”
The roles were reversed, as the one who chose silence as his new best friend this time was Spencer and that was the case for the rest of the trip, until you entered his apartment and he asked you if you wanted coffee.
But your mind was elsewhere, analyzing every detail of his apartment. From the sage green color on the walls, the leather sofas, and the smell of books, it also had that enveloping air that made you feel like it was your own home, even though it wasn't. But the space felt so Spencer Reid. At another time, that would have been comforting, but now it was just painfully bittersweet.
Spencer murmured your name again, this time capturing your attention. “I asked if you wanted coffee.”
“Sure…” You murmured, still somewhat overwhelmed by, well, everything. “But not a pound of sugar.” You joked to ease the growing tension between you.
A barely perceptible smile formed on Reid’s lips. “Okay.”
When the coffee was ready, Reid led you to his room. And if you'd had physical intimacy with him several times in the past, but this was a new horizon. You were in the presence of all his personal belongings, his most private place, the bed where your beloved slept…
Spencer pointed to his bed, signaling you to sit down. You fearfully did so, and the soft mattress sank beneath your weight. Spencer handed you the porcelain cup before sitting down next to you.
Your mind processed what would be the appropriate thing to say in a situation like this as you took a sip of your coffee. A sip that was longer than usual, because while your mind strained, your attention captured every detail of his room. Everything was in perfect order, sparkling clean, and most importantly, everything had his essence.
“I’m not the man for you.” He blurted out abruptly, without a shred of tact that would ease the crushing pressure in your chest.
“What exactly do you mean…? I don’t understand.” You whispered weakly.
“Don’t try to understand.” Even if it didn’t seem like it to you at the time, his heart was breaking too.
“Oh come on, don't give me that half-baked shit. If you're going to break up with me, do it right. Give me a reason and don't try to make me jump to that conclusion.” Every word betrayed your anger, but also your pain.
Spencer placed his coffee cup on the nightstand. “It’s not exactly that.” He said vaguely. “I'm just putting an argument on the table. You’re still very young, with so many things to explore and experience, you’re not ready to commit to something bigger, and I need to think about Maddie too.” He responded in a calmer tone than yours, but to you at that moment, everything that came out of his mouth was nonsense. “So yeah, I’m not the man for you…”
Your counterargument was ready before he even finished speaking. “I’m not some immature teenager who lives her life without thinking about the consequences. So what about me tells you I’m not ready for a bigger commitment?” You hated that he made that decision for you, for both of you. “So tell it like it is. It’s not that you’re not the man for me, it’s more that I’m not the woman for you.”
Reid's brow furrowed. "Of course you don't think about the consequences. You risked your life today like nothing else mattered. What about me, huh?" His voice rose.
“What about you? A family’s life was in danger. If I hadn’t taken the risk, they’d all be dead by now. I was just doing my job, Spencer. Don’t try to turn me into some kind of woman who needs your protection or a housewife who will live only for you.” Your heart pounded as the words came out harshly.
Spencer looked at you, completely offended. “Do you think I would try to turn you into something you’re not?” He exclaimed, clearly angry and hurt. “I love you just the way you are, so don’t accuse me of trying to change you.” He warned firmly, his tone so crude that it would have been chilling if not for what he confessed.
Honestly, you never thought he'd be the first to say that sweet phrase. You always thought it would be you, but somehow, him saying it first made it more real... Maybe because it was hard to break down his walls, to let you in.
For a moment, you were speechless. You wanted to shout that you loved him too, but the timing seemed inappropriate.
Spencer spoke again. “Tell me what would have happened if the SWAT team hadn't arrived in time.” He looked at you, searching for the answer you both knew, but you remained silent. “That's right, you'd be dead now too, and I don't know if I could bear that again. I can't lose you, not you.” His voice weakened at the mere prospect of losing you.
You looked at him with understanding, but that unresolved anger continued to bubble inside you. “So that's why you want to break up with me? Because I risked my life and didn't think about what it would mean to you to lose me.” You didn't mean to belittle his feelings, but your choice of words wasn't entirely correct.
“It's not about that. I know I couldn't bear it, but I'd take the risk because you have that effect on me.” He explained. “It's about Maddie. I can't let her get attached to you and then lose you too like she lost her mother. And there are many ways that could happen—not just death, but also a breakup, which is statistically likely because I've already lived through your firsts. My life is already made.”
Every piece that hadn't made sense before was starting to fall into place. "Are you sure it's because of Maddie?" you whispered, setting your cup aside to place your hand over Reid's. "Because you told me before that there were others before me, something that failed, but maybe it failed because you're reluctant to let someone in completely for fear of getting hurt again.”
Spencer sighed. “I did it. After a long time, loneliness started to weigh on me, and I decided to find someone. I let her in completely, but she despised Maddie. It was horrible, but I still didn't give up. I tried two more times, and once she disappeared when I told her I had a daughter. The other time, she got upset every time I mentioned Maddie. So I stopped trying, partly for myself, but mostly because I couldn't keep getting my daughter's hopes up and hurting her like that.”
You wanted to hug him. You deeply regretted that he had to go through that, but you remained silent, letting him unpack what had been tormenting him for years.
Spencer absentmindedly stroked your knuckles with his thumb. “Do you know the reason why nightingales sing?” he murmured.
You frowned slightly, wondering what that had to do with the topic. “Mhm, no. I only know they sing at night, but I’ve never heard one.”
“Well, the main reason a male nightingale sings is to attract females.” He explained, still tracing slow circles on your knuckles. “But once they’ve found a mate, they no longer feel the need to continue singing to attract other females. Though they usually continue singing to defend their territory, to protect their family.”
“Spencer…” You murmured, understanding his analogy.
He lifted his chin, his brown eyes meeting yours, a flash of almost painful vulnerability crossing those beautiful eyes. “I don’t want anyone else.” He whispered. “But at the same time, I have to keep singing to protect my family, and I’m exhausted. I just want to rest, but I can’t until my family is safe, until Maddie’s feelings are safe.”
You couldn't resist it anymore, so you wrapped Reid in a warm hug. Almost immediately, he hid his face in the crook of your neck. And while he was vulnerable, you rubbed his back. Words didn't seem so necessary now, as the two of you were wrapped in what was now a comfortable silence.
∗⋅✧⋅∗
The soft rays of sunlight filtered through the thin fabric of the curtains, falling directly into Reid's eyes. He wrinkled his nose before covering his eyes with his arm.
His eyelids were still heavy when he reached out for you on the bed, only to find the mattress cold…
A pang of pain, annoyance, and disappointment shot through his chest. He finally opened his eyes fully and sat up in bed, one of his hands going to arrange his tousled curls as the ache in his heart increased. He couldn't believe that after that conversation, you'd left. That moment was more intimate than anything the two of you had ever done before. No one had ever seen it like that, and no one would now.
Perhaps this was how it was meant to be, just him and Maddie. Though a part of him still longed for more children and someone to grow old with, at least this way, all his attention would be on his daughter. Even if the nightingale had to keep singing, this way it would only sing to protect his nest and his chick.
Spencer sighed before getting out of bed, checked the time on the wall, and left his room. Maddie was probably still asleep; that girl could sleep all day if she wanted to, but when he got to her daughter's room, what he saw was something completely different than what he expected.
"I hope the tea is to your liking, my lady." Maddie gave a small bow before clinking her cup against yours.
Last night, after that heartfelt conversation, you and Spencer fell sound asleep, perhaps due to emotional and physical exhaustion from the case. But in the morning, you woke up to the sight of a little girl watching you from the open door. It would have been chilling if the little girl weren't just as adorable as her father.
And that's how you ended up with a little girl asking you a thousand questions, all of which you answered perfectly, as if it were a job interview. But then Maddie wanted to wake up her dad to go to the park, so you came up with your own plan to entertain her, knowing how exhausted Spencer must be.
"That's very thoughtful of you, Lady Maddie." You smiled before taking a sip of the tea you'd made on the stove and pouring it into Maddie's toy teapot.
Little Maddie Reid was wearing a purple ballet skirt over her pajamas and a princess tiara that you helped her put on. From Spencer's perspective, standing in the doorway, the sight was beyond enchanting; even the pain in her heart was replaced by a deep warmth.
The moment Maddie's eyes fell on Spencer, she dropped everything to go hug her dad. "Your girlfriend makes good tea. You can marry her now.”
Spencer kissed her little daughter on the cheek. “Oh yeah?” Then their eyes met, though Maddie’s statement made you blush a little.
“Yes, she passed the tea test.” Maddie replied, and Spencer giggled before lowering Maddie to the floor.
“Well, maybe I should go.” You said, earning disappointed looks from Maddie and Spencer.
“No, please, I want you to go to the park with us.” Maddie begged, bouncing up and down in a way that made her look so adorable you almost couldn’t resist, and it’s not like you were making an effort.
Spencer raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “And who said we were going to the park?”
At that moment, Maddie turned to look at her dad and gave him puppy dog eyes, just like his. “Come on, Daddy, please, please.”
Spencer couldn't resist either, and he was trying. “Okay, princess, but just for an hour, okay?” Maddie nodded quickly. “Get changed, we'll be in the living room.”
With that, you followed Spencer out of Maddie's room. "I'm sorry, I don't know how okay you are with me getting to know Maddie, and that definitely wasn't the way to go. And I probably shouldn't have told her I'm your girlfriend. I don't even know if I still am.” You said hastily. "But she wanted to play and asked a lot of questions, but I didn't want to wake you up. You looked so cute, and besides, you were probably exhausted.”
“Hey.” Reid placed his hands on your shoulder. “Thanks.” He said softly.
You looked at him with some confusion. “What?”
“I was exhausted, and I really needed a break, so thank you for watching my daughter even though it’s not your responsibility.” He murmured sincerely.
“Oh, you’re welcome. But it was nothing. Maddie is a very cute girl, and it was fun playing with her.” You smiled inevitably.
“Oh yeah, she loves playing tea party. She already asked me for a teapot and her professional tea set. I think she's waiting for the queen.” He smiled back.
You let out a soft laugh. “Maddie really is a lovely girl.”
Spencer felt a warmth and fullness flood his heart, as if he'd finally found the one… “Yeah, after seeing you there with her, I realized I'm a real idiot. I should have introduced you two a long time ago.”
You placed your hands on his cheeks. “Of course not, don't say that. You were just trying to protect yourself and Maddie.”
Spencer placed his hands on your wrists. “But we’re safe with you, right?” He whispered.
You kissed the tip of his nose. “Of course.” You murmured. “I love you, so I don’t understand how other women couldn’t love someone who comes from you.” Your hand went to caress the back of his neck as you confessed what had been on the tip of your tongue for so long.
Inevitably, a smile formed on Reid's lips. "That's why every dead end had to lead me to you."
You stared at him intently for a couple of seconds without saying anything, taking in the beauty in his eyes. The sight of his happiness was contagious. "So we're okay? Am I still your girlfriend?" You asked tentatively.
He kissed you on the cheek, his lips lingering a moment. “Of course, don’t expect me to let you go after finding out you make really good tea.” Spencer looked back into your eyes. “Although I would appreciate it if you thought of me the next time you risk your life.”
You nodded. “I’ll think of both of us.” You replied before pressing your lips against Reid’s.
At first, the kiss was soft, the slow kind that makes your heart feel full, as if you needed nothing more. But the tranquility of the initial kiss slowly transformed into something more passionate when his tongue parted your lips, the wet warmth of your tongue against his, fighting for dominance at the same time that Spencer's hands squeezed your waist as he pressed against you. As if he wanted you to merge into one, because he had to admit it, he didn't want you away from him ever again.
Spencer's fists clenched the fabric of your shirt while your hands played with the curls at the back of his neck as your mouths devoured each other.
"What are you doing?" Maddie's sweet voice broke the passion of the moment.
At that moment Reid broke the kiss his lips pressing into a thin line before he spoke. “Nothing, sweetie.” Then he was forced to remove his hands from your waist.
You straightened your shirt from last night while Maddie eyed you both suspiciously, which only intensified the red in your cheeks.
“Are we going to the park now?” Maddie asked, breaking the awkward silence that was starting to form.
“Um, well, I'll go change clothes at my apartment, okay? I promise I won't be long.” You replied, Maddie and Spencer nodded.
“Sure, I should change too.” Spencer said as you headed for the door, his gaze following you intently until you closed the door behind you with the promise to come back.
“Daddy.” Maddie’s murmur made Reid look away from the door and focus on his daughter.
“Yes, princess?” He looked at her intently.
“Will the nightingale stop singing?” She asked with a hint of hope.
Spencer turned his gaze back to the closed door where you'd been standing a few seconds ago. "Yes... the nightingale will stop singing." He replied calmly, peace taking over his entire being. As long as his heart was in your hands, he'd be fine. And that would be forever.
↳ After the traumatic experience in prison, Spencer and Reader try to return to their lives, but the consequences torment both causing a disagreement between them; staying or leaving the BAU, something that could destroy their relationship.
main masterlist | my previous fanfic
who? Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
category: angst, fluff and hurt comfort.
warnings/tags: Arguments, disagreements, post-prison reid, mention of dilaudid, mention of Cat Adams and Peter Lewis, multiple mentions of Reid's prison arc, special appearance by Emily Prentiss, mention of kidnapping and death. English isn't my first language.
word count: 5.9K
a/n: Hey! I hope you like this, I didn't realize I hadn't posted anything in so long and I'm truly sorry. I wanted to write something fluffy but it seems angst is my specialty and well this was my most advanced draft because when I finished this I was sick and I really wanted to post something in honor of Spencer's return (I AM SO HAPPY). Oh to write this I was inspired by 2x5 when Spencer goes to Elle's hotel room (I miss her) Finally I think this is the first time I've written post-prison Reid.
Three months.
You'd dare say those had been the worst three months of your life. The angst, the uncertainty, the fear... it was the worst cocktail of emotions you'd ever had to drink.
Especially waking up in a huge bed with imaginary discomforts, the ones that weren't there when Spencer placed a soft kiss on your forehead before whispering, "Goodnight, darling.”
But for three months, all you got in return were cold sheets and sleepless nights, wrapped in stormy unknowns like, would Spencer ever get the chance to see another sunrise? Or if, when you and the team managed to break the chains, would he be the same Spencer? who looked at you with that heartbreaking panic in those beautiful, innocent brown eyes before the police took him away to a federal prison. Of both unknowns, you were only sure of one. The Spencer Reid who entered Millburn wouldn't be the same one who left.
You and Penelope stood outside the correctional center, waiting for JJ, Luke, and Spencer to come out. It was the longest few minutes of your life, but it all ended when he walked out of that horrible place. He looked different, you didn't know exactly why, besides noticing the new length of his hair and his stubble. The only thing that anchored you to the comfortable past was the suit he was wearing, the same one he wore the last time you saw him.
Before greeting you, he approached Penelope. They hugged immediately, and when they finally separated, he approached slowly, stopping right in front of you. For a moment, you wanted to yell at him. You hated when Emily told you that Spencer didn't want you to visit him, you, the most important person in his life, maybe second only to Diana, but at least he wanted to see her.
But when you saw that lack of something you couldn't name in his eyes, you knew you couldn't stay angry with him, at least not forever, and much less now that you knew you could lose him at any moment.
You tentatively approached him, intending to hug him, though he took your action as consent that he could touch you. He placed his calloused hands on your cheeks, his thumbs caressing your soft skin as he gazed into your eyes for a few slow seconds before finally breaking down the barriers he'd built up and pressing his lips against yours. You sighed at the sweetness of his lips, your body relaxing almost immediately, and your eyes drifting closed at the familiarity you'd been missing.
Spencer was never the type to show affection in public, but after having absolutely nothing from you for three months, all he longed for was to have you as close as possible, and honestly, you too, so that you could protect him from anything that might hurt him.
Spencer finally broke the kiss to take a breath, which didn't bother you too much, since you had needed him so much that you would’ve been happy to drown in his kisses.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered meaninglessly, because you had truly forgiven him the moment you saw him in front of you, that’s how weak you were in Spencer Reid’s presence.
In response, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I missed you.” You whispered against his neck.
Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around your waist and even pulled you closer, needing your closeness like he needed air. “And I missed you too…”
You would’ve liked to say that after the whole prison thing, Spencer got a decent meal and rest, but Mr. Scratch had other plans for the entire team.
At least the FBI gave them a break, but in your opinion you needed at least a year to recover from the recent events that had hit you like a tsunami (for lack of a better metaphor)
Spencer held the apartment door open for you to enter. “I didn't know Stephen very well, but he seemed like a good man.” Silence reigned; there wasn't much one could say in these situations anyway. “He visited me in prison. He probably had more important things to do, and yet he still took the time to be there for me even though he barely knew me.” He added after closing the door behind him. “How are you?”
You quickly wiped your tears away. At the slightest mention of Stephen, you could remember his wife; Monica, weeping inconsolably over his loss. You could've been her... "I only think about his family." You whispered weakly. "He didn't deserve that. He was a good person, a great profiler who ended up losing everything, even his life, for getting involved in the chaotic affairs of the BAU." Fresh tears trickled down your cheeks.
Spencer quickly approached, handing you a handkerchief to wipe your tears while rubbing slow circles on your back. “This is beyond Stephen, isn’t it?” He dared to ask.
Your eyes met his. “Until when?”
He frowned at your half question. “Until when what?”
“When will our learning end? Hotch lost Haley, Morgan almost lost Savannah.” <<I almost lost you>> “And don’t even get me started on the things you’ve lost or were about to lose because of this job.” Your voice was filled with a bitterness you hadn’t realized until now, a bitterness that grew day by day as an agent in the BAU.
Spencer had so many reasons to tell you why his job was worth it, but given recent events, it was only natural that the positive would be overshadowed by the thick, dark cloud hanging over you.
In the absence of a comment from your boyfriend, you decided to say what had been on your mind, no matter how controversial it might be. "Maybe it's time we tried our luck outside the BAU.”
Reid’s eyebrows rose at your suggestion, he couldn’t believe what had just come out of your mouth. “I don’t think you’re thinking this through clearly, sweetheart. We’ve been through a lot lately, which is why we can’t make any decisions now, not when all the emotions are running high.”
“This isn't an idea that came out of nowhere. I’ve been thinking about this for longer than I’d like to admit.” You confessed.
Spencer's expression began to harden. "How long? Why are you only telling me now?" His questions sounded almost like a complaint, and rightly so. He never believed you would keep something as big as that from him for who knows how long.
“I don't know exactly how long ago it was,” you exclaimed defensively before taking a deep breath. “Well, it's obvious why I'm telling you this now. You've been shot, you've been kidnapped, but this thing in prison was something completely different. I've never seen you like this before…” You stared into his eyes, emphasizing that special something that was conspicuously absent.
Spencer ran a hand over his face. “My love, listen, I don’t want to talk about that right now, and I don’t want to talk about quitting our jobs either.” His tone softened. “We just got back from a funeral, I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted. Can we just go to bed and talk tomorrow when we’re clear-headed?” You relented only when you saw the tiredness etched in his eyes.
But days passed, then weeks, and neither of you dared to broach the subject, at least not directly. You didn't, mainly because you were having such a good time with Spencer, and a difficult conversation like that would've its consequences. Plus, just thinking about it felt like someone was squeezing your heart.
Your days off were running out, your return to the BAU was imminent, and you still had the option of never returning. But for that, you'd have to sit down with Spencer and have a difficult conversation, because you couldn't sweep your problems under the rug forever.
Spencer wasn't home. Since he got out of prison, he'd tried to spend as much time with you as possible, but lately, and increasingly, he'd been going out alone, telling you he was going for a walk, getting coffee, or visiting Henry and Michael. His excuse today was that he was going to visit Diana, but his lies were about to crumble at your feet when the phone rang.
“Reid Residence.” You answered the phone as you had said so many times in the past. Perhaps it was silly, but saying Spencer’s last name gave you a certain comfort, especially during his stay in Millburn.
“I hope I'm not interrupting anything.” Emily added after saying your name.
“It’s not like that, I was just watching TV.” You replied, absentmindedly playing with the phone cord. Spencer was probably one of the few people in the world who still had a phone like that in his house or rather, it was your house, too. You still hadn’t gotten used to living with him, since you’d only been living together for a few days when he was arrested in Mexico.
“Oh, me too! I got obsessed with a show and-” Emily cut herself off and cleared her throat. “Anyway, could you please tell Reid the results of his psych evaluation are in?”
“Psychological evaluation?” Emily couldn't see it but your brow is furrowed.
“Yes, don't worry, I checked it myself. Everything's fine, considering everything that's happened.” You froze, Emily's words only served to confirm what your mind didn't want to fully accept, even though the suspicion was always there.
It was one thing to seek reassignment to the FBI, and another to lie to you,that had crossed the fragile line on which your patience hung.
You didn't bother to say goodbye properly to Emily; you just hung up the phone and stood there with your arms crossed, staring at him in annoyance.
Spencer's smile faded the instant he noticed your body language and your proximity to the phone, but he didn't say anything, waiting for you to break the growing tension in the air.
You didn't want to give in you needed him to say something, anything. But the silence was killing you, so you gave in, though not completely. "Emily called." Your words hung in the air.
You could see it in his eyes; he clearly knew what you were referring to, but from what he said next, it seemed like he just wanted to upset you. "Is that so?" He murmured casually. "What did she say to you?”
“Don't play dumb with me, Spencer Reid.” You exploded. He tended to be sassy at times, but this crossed every line for the man you shared a bed with.
Spencer sighed and took three steps in front of you, making sure to leave an appropriate distance. “I never meant for you to find out like this.”
“Your intention was to keep me from ever finding out.” You kept your tone high. “How did you expect to keep this from me? I’m a profiler, we work in the same unit.”
“There’s no need to scream.” He murmured in a controlled voice, perhaps too controlled. Perhaps he was afraid, afraid of exploding like he had in that interrogation room with Catherine Adams. No, he would never hurt you, at least not physically, because lying by omission was also harm.
“I’m not yelling!” Okay, that time you did it, so you forced yourself to take a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice took on a controlled tone.
“Why?” He spat out, almost as if it were a joke, a very bitter one. “For the past few weeks, you’ve been making insinuations and comments about leaving the BAU. Fine! Resign if that’s what you want, but don’t drag me down with you.” He said firmly.
Your expression gave way to surprise before it took on a tinge of anger. “I will! I will leave the damn BAU, which has done nothing but cause me pain.” Your words were filled with bitterness.
Reid's firmness wavered at your comment. “That's where you met me…” He whispered. “Am I pain to you too?” For the first time in weeks, he allowed you to see his vulnerability.
You quickly shook your head. “Of course not.” You sighed in frustration. “Listen, I didn’t realize I hated my job until you went to prison.” Your heart ached this was still a sensitive topic. “Tell me something, Spencer. Why would you want to go back to the FBI? Especially when they turned their backs on you.”
“You had your reasons for believing he was guil-” You didn’t let him finish his justification.
“Of course not!” Actually, yes, but love makes us blind. And they didn’t know Spencer well, not like you or Emily, JJ, Penelope, Dave… “If we’d had the FBI’s backing, you wouldn’t have spent three damn months in that horrible place, and you’d still be you…”
Spencer frowned, his expression darkening with anticipation of what might come out of your lips. “Still be me?” A trick question that would be difficult to dodge.
“You've changed.” You limited your response. The fish dies by the mouth, isn't that what they say?
“Well, after three months in federal prison, I'd be worried if that experience hadn't changed me.” He crossed his arms.
“Experience? Is that what you call it?” Your expression reflected your annoyance. “Of course, it would be stupid to expect you to be the same, but a lot of things have changed. You didn’t even let me visit you.” Your words sounded almost like a reproach, and maybe they were.
“Oh, wow.” Spencer threw his hands in the air. “It took you a while to bring that up.” His words were laced with venom.
“How did you expect me to react?” You raised your voice again, Reid’s jaw tightening. “Everyone else had the right to see you, except me, your girlfriend…” You hated when your voice broke.
Spencer's expression softened slightly. "I didn't want you to see me like that." He explained.
"Battered? Miserable? Different?" You blurted out, waiting for the answers that had been tormenting you.
“Why do you insist I’m different?” He raised his voice as well. “I’m the same man.” He insisted almost desperately, trying to make the idea fit not only your mind, but also in his own.
“Why are you!” You exclaimed firmly. “You carry a second gun holster.” You pointed.
“It’s a precaution.” He excused himself.
“No, that’s paranoia." You countered. “And that’s the least of it. I can no longer see that innocence in your eyes, the faith that this isn’t such a bad world.” You sighed. “On the surface, it’s not a huge change, but I notice it. I noticed it when that sweet, somewhat innocent man I fell in love with slammed a pregnant woman against a wall and muttered that he was going to kill her.”
Your words were a sentence, and for a long time they tormented you, as you replayed the scene over and over again.
An old friend settled in Spencer's eyes: guilt. "I'm sorry you had to see that. I shouldn't have…" His voice broke as he sank onto the couch. "I'm not like that. I was… I don't know…”
You wanted him to be aware of his change, but you regretted it when you saw the pain and guilt in his eyes, in his expression, radiating from his entire being. If that was the price, you weren't willing to pay it. You would never do anything that could hurt him, not even something that would cause the slightest scratch.
You followed him to the couch, resting your hand on his knee. “I know that’s not the kind of person you are, and I really want to believe it was just a one-time thing, caused by all the emotions you were going through, that you still go through every second.” He stared down at the carpet, but you knew he was listening. “I’ve known you for years, Spence. You’re so kind, too good for this world. You don’t usually resort to such extremes because that’s not you, and then comes the regret and eternal guilt.” From the expression in his eyes, you knew those two were already manifesting. “Seeing you there, like that, destroyed me in ways I never anticipated,” you whispered.
“I’m not so kind or a saint, I’m not as good as you think I am.” He said, his gaze still as lost as his. “What happens next? Will I actually kill someone? I… I’m afraid this is who I am now.” His voice broke, his curls covering his eyes, but you could bet tears were gathering at the corners.
You immediately wrapped him in a hug, and he clung to your arms. “No, no, no. You're still you, with a few changes, but you're still you…” You cling to that idea, not the despicable facts.
“But for how much longer?” He murmured against your shirt, this time you could feel the wet drops on the fabric of your shirt.
“I don't know,” you whispered. “But if you stay in that job, it'll probably keep taking pieces of you away, until what's left is little or nothing…” It wasn't the right time, but you had to say it, make him understand, a last ditch effort to keep from losing him…
Spencer pulled away from the hug. “You can’t know.” He still had tears on his cheeks.
"You joined the FBI very young, a different person than you are now. Have you ever wondered what your life would be like? Without gunshot wounds, without kidnappings, without Dilaudid, without deaths..." The answer to that question was many times, but he didn't say anything, preferring to ponder everything in silence.
“I won't force you to leave the BAU, but I will because I can't stand being there anymore, no matter how much I once loved it.” Your voice cracked. “And I really wish you would come with me because I can't lose you, Spencer. I couldn't bear it…”
Spencer stood up from the couch, dusted off his clothes, and hurried to wipe the evidence of his vulnerability off his face. “I’d love to give you what you want, but the BAU is all I’ve ever known, and I don’t think I can really leave it, no matter how many pieces of me it takes in the process.” And with that, he headed into the bedroom, not even waiting for a syllable to leave your lips.
The following days were filled with something different in the air, something that made everything more complicated and everything got even worse when Spencer was reassigned to the FBI, although not completely according to him and although he resented his days off you were secretly happy even though your relationship wasn't at its best.
You decided that once that case was over, you'd announce your departure from the FBI. Matt Simmons had joined the team, after all, which gave you some peace of mind. Although those were the kinds of decisions you made with Spencer, and doing it alone felt even more wrong…
You stopped by the Naples, Florida, police department. Honestly, you didn't know what to do with yourself. You knew you were supposedly working, but the status of your relationship with Spencer had you worried, to say the least.
You had to fix this no matter what, so you swallowed your pride and headed to where you knew Spencer and Emily were.
Along the way, you rehearsed how you would tell Spencer that you supported him, that if his decision was to stay at the BAU, you respected and supported him because that's what a couple does. You mentally rehearsed your speech, perhaps a bit too cheesy, so you limited everything you felt for him to just "I love you.”
The door was half closed, you were about to burst in but you were friends with Penelope Garcia so you stayed behind the door listening to the conversation between Emily and Spencer.
“Because I wanted to kill Scratch.” Reid's words caught you off guard, but honestly, everyone at the BAU has had that same thought at some point.
“Standing room only on that bus.” Emily replied.
“No, I mean it literally. After what he did to you, if I had found him, I would have killed him. And… I would have slept well.” His words were like having a glass of ice water thrown over your head in winter.
It was one thing to think about killing someone, with someone like Peter Lewis, there was a kind of justification, but you're supposed to be the embodiment of justice. You wouldn't have cared if someone had said that. But you knew Spencer or at least you thought you did, because your Spencer, the awkward boy who trembled when he asked you to be his girlfriend, that guy couldn't sleep well if there was blood on his hands, no matter the reasons, he'd be tormented by guilt until his last breath. This new man, on the other hand, admitted he was okay with it; it was more than you could bear.
You carefully turned around, discarding the reason you were there in the first place. You told yourself you weren't running away, but honestly, you were. But you weren't running away from your beloved; you were running away from what he had become.
Arriving at the hotel at night after a long day's work, you approached Emily, asking to be put in a different room from Reid. The hotel had enough rooms, but Emily looked at you with some confusion.
“Is everything okay?” Emily asked, only the two of you were in the lobby, the rest had gone to their rooms.
You nodded quickly. “Yeah, I just want the bed to myself.” The version of you from several months ago wouldn't have been able to stand being even two inches away from Spencer.
Emily was more respectful of privacy, so she gave you the space you needed without further questions. But she still got involved by giving you the key to the room across the hall from Spencer's.
Spencer was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. When he didn't see you walk through the door, he went out to look for you in the lobby. He didn't find you, so he asked at the hotel reception where they told him your room number. It wasn't the same as his, and you were just across the hall, but the distance felt like more than that. It had been feeling that way for a while, for both, actually.
Spencer sighed heavily, running his hands over his face. Part of him wanted to give you the space you forced upon him, but he'd been locked away for three months without anything from you… And finally, there was that proud part of him that refused to seek you out without you doing it first.
That's how it was lately, someone had to give in and neither of them was willing to do it.
But if no one did something soon, everything he had built would crumble at his feet… The mere thought of losing you made Spencer quickly get out of bed and head out the door.
You were lying in bed, tossing and turning, when your phone suddenly rang. You answered it without noticing who it was. “Can we talk?” You swore Spencer’s voice on the other end of the line made your heart skip a beat.
“It’s late, and I was about to fall asleep.” That’s what you wanted to come out of your lips, but instead it was… “Sure.” You hated the urgency evident in your tone.
Then the door rang. You pushed back the covers before getting out of bed and then opened it. “I didn’t want to keep you waiting in case you said yes.” Spencer still had the phone to his ear when you opened the door. His voice was so soft it almost made you forget everything that had been different about him lately.
You both put away your phones, and a smile inevitably formed on your lips. “Your room is across the hall.” Remembering the troubles surrounding you, your smile slowly faded, until only a ghost of what was left remained, just like you and him.
Spencer stared at you, as if your eyes could give him all the answers he was looking for. “Why aren't you sleeping with me?” He asked cautiously. “Is it because I kicked you the other night? Because I already apologized for that.”
His attempt to lighten the mood drew a small laugh from you, and for a moment you could see him again, your dear and beloved Spencer Reid. “No, it’s not that.” You shook your head.
He took your hands, his thumbs brushing your knuckles but his eyes fixed on you. “So tell me why, sweetheart, why aren't you next to me in bed?”
His eyes were so intense, so intense they triggered the truth. “Because I needed space.”
Spencer looked almost hurt. He stopped wiggling his thumbs but continued to hold your hands. “Do you want space now?” He asked tentatively, hoping the answer was no.
“I don’t know…” You whispered.
Spencer sighed and finally let go of your hands. “It’s been like this between us lately, hasn’t it? We let it build up and then you push me away like a bad habit. I honestly didn’t expect I’d have to sleep alone tonight, and the worst part is, I don’t even know why.”
You let out a frustrated sigh. “We’re in trouble, that’s obvious, but we’re still holding onto this, and I thought a better way to deal with it was to give me a break.” You explained.
“A break from me?” His expression said it all, that hard mask firmly covering the pain, the pain that what he had could end and he hadn’t even realized it.
You closed your eyes for a moment, regretting your choice of words and his interpretation of them. “A break from what you are now.” You corrected your words, but not for better.
He sighed in frustration, hating your constant reminder of what he was and what he is. “Oh, so now I'm some kind of monster you must escape?” His tone was filled with bitterness.
“Don’t put words in my mouth.” You clenched your jaw, keeping yourself from yelling and starting an argument in the hallway. “I would never refer to you as a monster.”
“So what do you mean?” He asked sharply. “Uhm? What word would you use to describe what I am now? What seem to despise to you.” After that, he said your name with a certain chilling undertone.
“A stranger.” You blurted out, and from the expression on his face, you knew the word stranger stung more than monster. “That’s how I see you, and excuse me, but it’s hard to see my sweet boyfriend as anything more than a stranger when I hear him say he would’ve killed a man without remorse and slept well afterward.”
Spencer looked up from the floor, realizing you'd overheard his conversation with Emily. “So that's why you've been avoiding me all day? That's why you sent me to the dog house?”
You frowned. “You seem to be downplaying it.”
Spencer sighed heavily. “It’s not like that, but it’s hard to believe my words affected you when Scratch doesn’t deserve any courtesy, not after what he did to our team, our family.” His words came out firmly.
“Peter Lewis is dead!” Maybe shouting the reminder would bring him to his senses. “We’re supposed to be on the side of justice, and beyond that, you’re not like that. When you first killed someone, you couldn’t sleep, the guilt ate at you, no matter how bad that man was.” You responded with the same firmness as him.
Spencer remained silent, you hit the nail on the head because he usually had a lot to say.
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad, you’re going through a lot and honestly, I can see the resentment building up in your eyes. This is going to destroy you, Spencer, and I'm not willing to see it happen.” You whispered.
A flicker of fear crossed Spencer's eyes. "What are you trying to say?" He asked tentatively.
You swallowed, trying to ease the weight of your words that made a lump in your throat. “I’m trying to say that I need some time away from this, Spencer, away from you. And permanently some time away from the BAU. This is my last case.”
∗⋅✧⋅∗
You should admit. Spencer had done a great job on this case, even though his personal life was crumbling around him especially with the things you'd said to him.
The jet ride was silent, except for the small talk between Luke, JJ, and Spencer. Everything else was peaceful, normal…
Your initial plan was to announce your departure on the jet, but you decided to postpone it until you arrived at the BAU so you could say a more appropriate goodbye to Penelope. You couldn't give a half-hearted goodbye to the sweetest woman on earth.
You never liked goodbyes, and honestly, who does?
You could still feel a ghostly trace of the hugs you received from your friends and now ex colleagues. Their farewell speeches haunt your mind, and for a moment you wished that saying goodbye to something that was once a home didn't feel so bitter, like escaping through the emergency exit.
There were dried tears on your cheeks, the physical reminder of the goodbye that was rekindled when the cool night air hit your cheeks.
Meanwhile, Spencer chivalrously offered to drive you to the hotel where you were going to stay until you found a place or until you decided to come back to him, which would be unlikely if neither of you were willing to give in.
“So I guess this is goodbye, although I hope it won't.” He said honestly as he parked the car in front of the hotel.
“We’ll see where life leads us.” You replied, though you didn’t really want to go where the tide took you. You wanted to choose for yourself, but you didn’t have the strength to swim against the current.
Spencer handed you your bag, holding back the words. “I hope it leads you back to me.” He gave you what looked like the ghost of a smile before you opened the car door.
But before you could get out of the car, Spencer said your name in that way only he could make your heart skip a beat. You turned around almost immediately, searching for what he had to say. “What you said was true?” You frowned, needing more information, because you had said a lot, especially to him. “About how resentment is going to destroy me…” He finished it.
You nodded slowly before looking away. This was more difficult than either of you could have anticipated. “It's like drinking poison and waiting for someone else to die.”
Spencer just nodded silently, but you knew he was reflecting on your words, as you knew every one of his expressions perfectly, some of which you had even adopted.
“Goodbye, Spencer.” You mumbled before finally getting out of the car. A cowardly goodbye, because if you stayed any longer, you'd probably jump into his arms.
You headed to the hotel reception, you searched your bag for your wallet to pay for the room but then you found something else, Spencer's credentials in your bag, he was going to quit…
You ran out of the hotel, but Spencer and the car were no longer where you'd left them. So you frantically flagged down a taxi.
When you reached your old building, you ran up the stairs. You finally arrived in front of the door to the apartment you'd once shared with Spencer and knocked, knowing that using the keys you hadn't yet returned would be invasive.
When Spencer opened the door, you didn't expect to see the surprise etched on his face. You wanted to tell him so many things; your heart was racing, really racing, from him, or rather, from running. But then, before you could give a grand speech, you crushed your lips against his.
He didn't even hesitate for a second, his hands wrapped around your waist, his eyes closed and his soft sigh caressed your lips during the kiss.
After a few seconds, you pulled away, breathing as rapidly as he did. “I thought you might need more time.” Spencer was the first to break the silence, but his voice was barely above a whisper.
“I needed it, I did, but you left something in my bag. I don't know if it's a mistake or-” He interrupted you as you spoke hurriedly.
“I'm going to quit.” He replied with conviction.
You looked at him intently, still believing this was too unreal. “We have a lot of things to sort out, and I don’t want you to feel pressured. You shouldn’t leave your job just because of me. I know what I said before, but I love you, and if you love your job at the BAU, I accept it. Just please don’t become a stranger. I know it’s difficult, but hold on to the real Spencer Reid, the sweet, innocent, and clumsy man I fell in love with.” Your voice and your eyes were full of pleading.
Spencer took your face in his hands. “I promise I won’t become a stranger. I really don’t want to become someone I’m not. And if the price to pay is leaving the BAU, I’ll accept it because I can’t lose myself, and I can’t lose you.” He whispered, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.
You rested your face in his hands. “You really don’t have to quit your job. You don’t have to sacrifice anything to be with me. I would never ask that of you.” You had, but now it was different. You couldn’t do that to Spencer. You could never do anything that would hurt him, not him.
“I know.” He continued to caress your face. “We’ve had difficult times for this job, because it’s about sacrifice, and I don’t know how I was so blinded before. But I won’t let my job cost me my relationship with you, much less myself.” He replied with a hint of sadness.
“But I don’t want you to rush into a decision, so what if we make a pros and cons list or something?” You looked at him.
Spencer let out a soft laugh. “I already told Emily.” He placed a kiss on your forehead, one that wasn’t enough to ease your doubts. “Hey, it’s okay. I have three PhDs to fall back on, remember?”
“It’s not that… I just don’t want the years to go by and you blame me for forcing you to leave your job.”
Spencer stroked your hair. “Hey. I would never blame you, because this is only my decision.” His response put you at ease. “Besides, I'd been thinking about it for a while, but I didn't want to admit it because the BAU is all I've ever known.” He admitted.
You raised your head to look at him. “Surely in a few years you won’t hate me for that?” You asked quietly.
He shook his head. “Of course not, although it would be a good idea to attend couples therapy, maybe to strengthen communication.”
You nodded slowly; the idea actually sounded pretty good. For a moment that day, you'd felt like you'd lost everything, and now it seemed like everything was going to be resolved. That lifted a huge burden off your shoulders.
“You know I love you, right?” Spencer caressed your face again.
You leaned down to kiss his palm. “I love you, too.”
after hearing her gunpoint confession, your sister pressures you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue
series masterlist
who? spencer reid x jareau!reader
category: angst
content warnings: takes place following/during 14x15 "truth or dare", fem!reader, established relationship, mentions roslyn, unresolved conflict, a lot of insecurity, cm violence, i think everyone has a fault in this
word count: 2.47k
a/n: so this idea popped into my head. i think the concept of spencer dating jj's younger sister is insane and i love it. i hope you like it as well. (i want to write a part two so bad i hate leaving things unresolved). also this is not jj hate that's my girl i loved her even before i loved spencer!!!!
“Please, can you just hear me out?” Your sister pleaded, keeping her voice low so you didn’t take any attention off of the bride and groom.
Bringing your glass to your lips, you shrugged, “I’m not sure this is the right place, Jennifer,” you murmured, looking across the room at your brother-in-law, “I think Will’s looking for you.”
She brushed off your dismissal, “I’ll go over once we figure this out. Let’s go out to the courtyard and talk.”
JJ reached out and gently gripped your elbow, trying to guide you through the French doors of the wedding venue, but you yanked your arm away, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “It’s rude to leave now, this is a wedding, we’re guests here,” you scolded her, focusing your eyes forward. The ceremony was over, and everyone was mingling, but you refused to be the first to leave. Besides, going home would mean needing to face Spencer – another discussion you didn’t have the energy for.
You knew she hated leaving things unfinished. The both of you could feel the rift between you growing as if the earth was physically shifting beneath your feet. “It would just be for a second,” she urged.
Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “It’s fifteen years of dirty laundry, Jayg. It’s going to take more than a second to air it out.” You frowned into your newly emptied glass before hauling yourself over to the bar, grateful that she didn’t follow, “Can you make me one of the pink glittery drinks?”
Penelope, the honorary bartender for the evening, nodded reassuringly, taking an already-made beverage from the counter and sliding it over to you, “You look like you could use it,” she observed.
You sighed in concurrence, “You have no idea,” you mumbled as you brought the glass to your lips. The drink itself was a bit of an abomination, so strong that it burnt your nostrils as it went down, “God, that’s strong.”
The technical analyst just laughed, making her way back to the dance floor to meet up with Luke and Matt. Your gaze flickered over other members of the team until you were met with familiar brown eyes.
There had been a ball of dread forming in your stomach ever since you returned from Los Angeles. From where you were standing now, the cut on your boyfriend’s hand that you had preoccupied yourself with seemed inconsequential. You watched him now, in real-time as he glanced between you and your sister, picking up on the tension as you avoided her.
Someone was bound to snap.
Walking away from the bar, you went out into the hallway, finding the nearest door and practically throwing yourself outside. Pulling your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand, you sat down on a moss-covered bench in the courtyard and waited for the cold night air to cool you off.
As expected, you heard the door behind you click. You couldn’t be bothered to look at who it was, if it was important to them, they’d come to you. Sure enough, you remained focused on your drink as Spencer took a seat on the bench next to you, “Aren’t you cold?”
“Alcohol,” you mumbled, “Keeps me warm.”
Not exactly the answer he was going for, but he took it at face value. He was probably more comfortable in his suit than you were in your dress. “Are you feeling alright?”
You thought about lying to him. Telling him that you were just tired, it had been a long week of watching your sister and boyfriend being held hostage in a pawn shop and hunting Everett Lynch on top of your normal caseload, but the thought of holding up that lie just made you feel worse. Taking a large sip of your drink, you took a deep breath before speaking, “Garcia recovered the audio from the CCTV footage inside of the pawn shop. Emily asked me to review the tapes and let her know if I thought there was anything pertinent that should be added to the case files.”
He didn’t respond for a while, knowing exactly what you were getting at but not sure how to further the conversation, “And did you?”
You lifted your glass again, “There wasn’t anything in the tapes that was necessary for the case. I buried the audio files and transcripts and sealed the file.”
“Thank you,” he said, relief evident in his tone.
You, however, frowned at his response, “’Thank you’?” You repeated, an accusation in your voice, “I was scared shitless while the two of you were in there, and all the while my sister was confessing her love for you.”
Spencer was quiet again, rendered speechless by your words. Your description was accurate, if not blunt.
You sniffled, setting your glass down and wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have never felt more humiliated, and no one else can ever know why.” You traced the cobblestones on the ground with your eyes as thoughts continued racing through your head. “God, is this why she pushed us together?”
The door behind you clicked again and you stiffened, closing your eyes when you heard JJ coming out into the courtyard, “Ducky, we need to talk.”
“Don’t fucking call me that,” you snapped at her, standing up and glaring at her. Your childhood nickname rang through your ears. A term of endearment given to you by your oldest sister now grated on your heart, shredding through each chamber. “I do not need to do anything,” you told her, narrowing your gaze.
Tears pricked your eyes, Please, JJ, just give me time to think. I just need a minute. Not everything has to be solved right away.
You were too proud to say the words aloud, but you thought it. You wanted to beg her for time. You wanted to plead with your sister for just a little bit of time to think things through.
She held her hands up in surrender, “I needed to tell Pinkner something that would satisfy him. You know the profile; you know what would’ve happened if I didn’t.”
Yes, and the image of both of them being held at gunpoint would haunt you for years to come, but that still didn’t justify any of it, not to you. Finishing off your drink, you set the crystal glass on the cobblestone bench and faced your sister, “Jennifer,” you said sharply, “Truth or dare?”
Her blue eyes widened as she looked between you and Spencer, who was wisely keeping his mouth shut, “Truth,” she answered, her voice so quiet you could barely hear it.
“Did you mean it?” You asked, the first of your tears finally flooding over your lash line.
You gripped the fabric of your dress in your hands as you waited for her answer, “Yes,” she told you.
Covering your face with your hands, you sighed deeply into them, “Fuck,” you cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you echoed. None of this made sense to you, JJ was married. JJ and Will were the kind of couple that you could look at and you would know that they belonged together, but now she was saying she had been in love with Spencer this whole time.
White hot tears stung the cold skin on your cheeks as you looked back up at your sister, waiting for her to say something else. “We went on an almost date years ago and nothing else ever came of it. Life just went on moving and we…” Her voice trailed off, either unable to finish her thought or unwilling to share.
“You’re married, JJ,” you said desperately, looking at her and wondering if she had told Will where she was going. “Does Will know? Did you tell him you’ve been stringing him along? Thirteen years in and two kids later?”
She faltered for a moment, and you knew you had hit your mark – it made you sick to your stomach. “No, I love him. I love my boys, you know that.”
You nodded numbly, “Yeah, I do, but I can’t keep going if you’re always going to be longing for what might’ve been.”
“You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she accused, tapping her right foot anxiously.
JJ might’ve grown up in Roslyn’s shadow, but you grew up in hers. Captain of the varsity soccer team, full-ride athletic scholarship at Pitt, and grad school at Georgetown. All leading up to her joining the bureau at twenty-three. You followed her, believing anywhere was better than Pennsylvania, and this is what it had gotten you. It was exhausting, being the one pushing the boulder up the hill, your hands were scraped, and she couldn’t see it.
Deftly, you wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, “I know exactly what I’m saying. Please, can you try and just look at this from my point of view? My big sister, who I’ve looked up to for my whole life, confessed her feelings for my boyfriend. My boyfriend who she set me up with.” Realization dawned on you, turning to face Spencer, “You were in love with her, and… I’m…” your voice trailed off.
Matching your train of thought, Spencer shook his head, reaching a hand out for yours, but you pulled away from him, “No, honey, please. It’s not like that.”
“You couldn’t have her, and I’m just the next best thing,” you told him miserably. “She met Will and got pregnant and got married and you were so in love with her that you took the off-brand version just to have something.”
Spencer shushed you, watching as tears fell from your cheeks, “I’m with you because I love you, not because of anything else.”
Your chest ached, it felt like someone had thrust their hand in the cavity and was squeezing as tightly as they could. You wanted to believe him. You so, so badly wanted to believe him. “Tell me,” you prompted, “tell me I’m not your second choice.”
“You are not my second choice,” he told you, and you watched. You watched for his tells, any sign at all that he was lying.
You shook your head at him, “Why did you lie to me? About the football game,” you asked him, a semi-permanent frown staying on your face.
He furrowed his brows and stood up in front of you, rubbing your arms up and down to keep you warm, “I didn’t lie to you.”
“You didn’t tell me. Neither of you did. That’s lying by omission, and you both know it,” you said, stepping away from him hesitantly. You didn’t know what to trust; you didn’t know what was real.
Spencer looked back at your sister, but she looked frozen, “It wasn’t a date,” he said simply. “I… I intended for it to be a date, but JJ invited Penelope and that was the end of it. I took it as her not being interested and that’s the truth. Nothing else ever happened between the two of us.”
You watched your sister, her mouth opening and closing as she scrounged for the right thing to say. “I said what I had to in order to survive,” she defended.
Sucking on your back molars, you shrugged helplessly in response, “I know,” you admitted. “I know that you probably planned on taking your truth to the grave with you, but… it’s out, Jayg.”
“I can explain everything to you,” she offered, “Please let me explain, Ducky.”
The desperation in her voice chiseled at your resolve, but it wasn’t enough. “I don’t have it in me,” you admitted. “I’m fresh out of fight and I just wanna go home,” you told her, looking at Spencer who nodded, heading back inside to gather your things.
You sat back down on the bench, propping your chin up on your hand.
“I couldn’t think of anything else to say,” she tried again, her voice gruff from holding back tears.
Shaking your head, you closed your eyes and breathed in the cold winter air, “I don’t really care, JJ. You said it, I heard it, and now you have to deal with it.”
She cleared her throat, “I would deal with it now, but you’re being petulant.”
Looking up at her, you frowned, “I told you inside that I didn’t want to talk about this here. You came outside. You sought me out to talk. Now you’re mad that I’m not being nice about it?” Something new bubbled in your stomach, the pit that had been forming there quickly evolved into anger.
“I was trying to save lives,” she tried again, insisting she was right.
You could live with her being right on that front. She was saving lives, and she needed a truth potent enough to sway the UnSub, but in all of her explanations, she never once apologized about this curveball. “I live with Spencer. I… when I give gifts, they’re signed from the both of us,” you told her. “Sometimes when we can’t sleep at night, we come up with baby names, and you’re in love with him. I asked for time, and you couldn’t give it to me. So, this is what you get.”
With Spencer reappearing at the door, you made your way out of the courtyard, he draped your coat over your shoulders, and you wrapped the wool around yourself as you made your way out. “I told Rossi and Krystall that you were tired, but I think they might have taken it as you had too much to drink,” he explained, opening the passenger side door for the car for you to get in.
A small smile tugged at your throat, “I don’t really care.” Maybe if you had gotten that drunk, your chest wouldn’t hurt so much.
The rest of the ride home was silent, small flurries started floating from the sky, and you watched the way they danced in the streetlights. Once you were home, you got ready for bed, grabbing a pillow off of your bed, and turning to the door, “Where are you going?” Spencer asked, returning from brushing his teeth.
“I’m gonna sleep on the couch,” you told him softly, looking at the pillow that you were clutching in your arms.
He faltered for a moment, obviously taken aback by your decision, “Can we talk tomorrow?”
You frowned, letting your eyes lift to his, when it was dark, his eyes took on a certain kind of melancholia. It hurt to look at tonight. “Sure,” you offered weakly, turning around and heading for the couch.
“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked, fear creeping into his voice. Fear of losing you.
Glancing back at him as you lobbed the pillow on the couch, you gave him a gentle smile, “Yeah, Spence, we’ll figure it out. Just not tonight, okay?”
↪In which reader has to face the consequences of her past decisions when she goes to Spencer's wedding. Will it be too late to redeem the past?
who? Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
inspired by: The manuscript by Taylor Swift (A little bit, literally just in one sentence)
category: angst (really, ANGST)
warnings: Discussions, special appearance sassy Reid (did I mention I love him?) and I think that's it. English isn't my first language.
word count: 3.5K
a/n: I was finally able to write so I'm happy again thanks to Spencer Reid (the love of my life). This is actually something that made me cry so I'm sorry? But in my defense I do vent when I write (Although maybe this time I went a little too far) Anyway, I hope you like it and sorry for disappearing.
Something that will hurt longer than it lasted. What do you call something like that? When it was going on you never called it what it was and Spencer was the one who paid the terrible consequences.
The cold freezes your fingertips, how is that possible if it's a sunny day? Seemingly a perfect day, but not for you.
“I didn’t think you’d come.” Spencer’s sweet voice made you turn around, only this time it didn’t sound sweet at all.
You stopped to appreciate his suit, for the work you almost always saw him wear those suits that made him even more attractive than he already was. But what was different this time was the boutonnière on the left lapel of his jacket. “Well, you invited me.” you replied with an awkward smile.
His brow furrowed. “Not me, Max was the one who invited you.” He corrected you roughly, not like all those times he gently explained the difference of some things which you couldn’t remember right now but the knowledge was there, being overshadowed by the memories.
Your lips formed a straight line, how to respond that? “Yes, she was very nice to invite me.”
Reid’s face softened, just a little. “Yeah, well everyone in the BAU had an invitation except you so she decided to give you the chance I took from you.” Just like you had taken away a chance from him years ago, but he didn’t say that even though he wanted to. “Seriously, I didn’t think you’d come.”
And he was right, you weren't going to go but now you're there. You hadn't thought of it that way, but maybe it was a way to punish yourself for making him lose almost eight years of his life or maybe it was a way to seek redemption…
Of course attending his wedding was a punishment, but not just for you.
“But I’m here, hoping that you’ll be very happy with Max.” You whispered, wondering why honest words made your heart bleed. “And I’m so sorry for the pain I once caused you.” When you say more your chest feels heavier. The truth was supposed to set you free, not oppress you.
Spencer sighed, trying to keep that icy expression but the apologies he always expected had an effect on him. “It’s okay.” No, it wasn’t. “You’re like a firefly, once they’re captured they don’t glow anymore. I just never wanted you to feel trapped, much less by me.” His throat threatened to close up so he cleared it. “And as for the rest, Max already makes me very happy. I hope that someday you find someone who does the same for you.” A hint of sadness crept into his forced smile.
You had already found him, but you crushed his heart which caused him to give the ring to someone else.
The quartet began to play their violins, that was the signal that the bride was approaching the altar. Everyone took their places, fortunately yours was next to Penelope, unfortunately in the first rows.
Max was holding her father's arm, whom you only saw once after you and the team saved him and Max's little sister from a kidnapped. A long and not very pleasant story, which luckily (or maybe not) ended well for the two of them Max and Spencer. A sentence written in cursive on the invitations indicated that today was the first day of a forever..
Maybe the word “forever” was that it took your breath away and oppressed you to the point of wanting to run away. Yes, maybe that simple word was responsible for your miserable life caused by the fear of belonging to someone thanks to the signature on a paper.
Everyone watched as Max walked down the aisle, accompanied by the beautiful melody coming from the violins. They could see how her beautiful white dress dragged a little on the perfect grass and they could also see that the outfit made her look so beautiful, of course she must look fantastic on her day.
But you weren't with the flock, as Max moved closer to a life with Spencer, you could only watch him and no one else. You could see the goofy smile that once was for you and you could also see how he was close to shedding tears, just seeing his fiancée in a dress she would surely wear once in her life apparently had that effect on him.
And you knew very well that you had no right to make claims, you had the opportunity to be that woman, his woman, but you preferred to run away. Even so, that didn't stop one conclusion from breaking you down: He never looked at you that way and now he never would.
You had taken it upon yourself to burn everything that had to do with Spencer and now you were sitting there with one word stuck in your throat. The only thing left to say before it was too late.
Your throat closed up and the air seemed to be a private service you hadn't paid for. You took a deep breath before looking anywhere other than the scene that was about to unfold under the flowered arch. But that only made your melancholic-natured brain hit you with a memory. Something you couldn't quite burn off.
That's what brings you back to a place. Of course Rossi had to offer his mansion to Max and Spencer for their wedding. But there had been a wedding there before Will and JJ's.
The ceremony was about to begin, so Spencer came back to your side. “I hope you don’t pull a ring out of my ear like you just did to Henry.” You said.
He let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “I won’t.” He placed a kiss on your cheek. “Though I must admit, it is an interesting idea for a proposal.”
Maybe that would have been the perfect time to tell him that marriage wasn't something you were interested in, but it was JJ's day so you didn't say anything. Although your mistake in that moment was smiling and intertwining your fingers with his, as if you were willing to wear a diamond on your ring finger.
Four years, four years ago your and Spencer's story had come to an end and yet it felt like it was just yesterday when he crossed through the door of your apartment, taking with him things you didn't think you'd miss until you heard him say. "I do.”
Nothing, nothing would be enough to compare or describe the pain you felt at that moment. It was like someone invaded your chest, ripped your heart out in one go and left you with a void that would sprout cobwebs because no one would be enough to fill that hollow space on you.
When Spencer went to prison it was one of the hardest times both had to deal as a couple and as individuals. But it was something both managed to deal with together and maybe that's what gave him the wrong message.
Of course, how not to misinterpret the nights you hugged him after every nightmare, how not to misinterpret the millions of letters and finally how not to misinterpret the constant visits that made you a little negligent at work, which would have justified your dismissal if Emily were a different chief.
Maybe if you hadn't been there that day…
You were filling your coffee cup when Penelope showed up, waiting for you to put down the coffee pot so she could fill her cute octopus cup which is currently Spencer's and is named Mildred.
“Why are you so quiet?” You asked before putting the coffee pot back.
“Me? Quiet?” Despite her efforts, there was that telltale tone in her voice.
“Yeah, you. You didn’t give me any of those typical Penelope Garcia witty greetings.” A mocking smile formed on your lips.
“I’m completely fine, I just don’t have any witty greetings today.” She excused herself without looking at you and dedicated to filling her cup.
“Mhm, yes, of course.” You looked at her under the light of the five hundred and sixty hours of your profiling course. “You have a secret. That is the reason for your silence, you are afraid that if you speak you might say something that I should not know.”
You were amused that she was still able to look at you in surprise knowing full well that she was working with more profilers than her sanity could handle. “I’ll just say that you should get a manicure.” She looked straight at your nails before gracefully turning around and heading back to her cave.
Maybe that must have made you laugh a little, but you didn't need to be a great profiler to understand what the hell she was talking about.
A week.
That's how long it had been since Penelope gave you a big little spoiler of what your future would be like if you didn't do something about it, so you decided to do the worst thing you could think of and you were avoiding Spencer at all costs. And even though you two were technically still together, your apartment felt empty without his light.
The cobblestones were slippery from the rain and your fingers were frozen. Before pushing open the door of the building you blew into your hands, hoping that your breath would bring the warmth you needed.
Finally the elevator dropped you off at your floor and you only had to walk a little to get to the door of your apartment but…
“We need to talk.” His tone retained that sweetness that was only meant for you, but the weight of the situation was evident in the hint of seriousness that carried in his voice.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” You brushed it off as you approached to greet him with a short kiss.
He kissed you back, because well he couldn’t help it. “There isn’t? I say we definitely need to talk.” He said as you opened the door to your apartment. “It’s not normal for you to avoid me, much less for this long.”
You left the door open for him. “I’ve just been busy.” You replied.
He closed the door behind him. “I know, we have the same job.” He sighed before walking over to you and placing his hands on your shoulders. “Please can you tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.” Spencer had that pleading look in his bright, tortured eyes.
“Nothing’s wrong with me.” Your walls rose so high that even you felt upset with yourself.
“Then why are you avoiding me?” Spencer tried hard to keep his tone calm even though he was starting to get frustrated and irritated.
Your pulse was racing, you could feel your ears throbbing, and uncertainty added to the equation so the words came out like bullets. “Because I don’t want to marry you!”
Spencer stood still in place, not even blinking. “…Just with me?” His weak words were a huge contrast to yours which sounded like thunder, the kind of thunder that sets things on fire.
“With no one, I don’t want to marry you or anyone else.” You quickly clarified with a brusqueness that didn’t help improve the tension. “Why ruin everything when our relationship is perfect as it is?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not.” Spencer took a step back and let out an exasperated sigh. “In all these years of dating, why haven’t you ever said anything?” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to remember if he’d misunderstood everything. “I don’t get it. I made advances and you seemed okay with it.”
“Well, you never asked me directly.” You excused yourself.
“You know very well that I always wanted a family.” He reminded you in a firm tone. “When I got out of prison you were always there and I thought you would still be there…” He couldn’t control the pain that materialized in his eyes.
“I’ll be here, not the way you want but I’ll be here.” You tried to keep away the desperation in your words from being evident.
"If you weren't planning on marrying me, why waste all these years of my life? It's too late for me now." You hoped your words hadn't hurt him like his words hurt you right now, because if that was the case then you had hurt him deeply.
“Too late for what?” You asked with annoyance, although fearing the answer.
“To find someone who is ready.” Spencer blurted out as if it were nothing, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on the most fragile building.
Of course, just because you weren't ready didn't mean someone else wasn't.
You nodded, a grimace appearing on your face. “Well, you’re not the only one wasting time on this relationship. I’m glad to tell you it’s over.” A new ounce of cruelty was added with each word.
It's funny how it would never have occurred to you to hurt Spencer in any way, but at that moment you just wanted to make him feel more miserable than you. Which wasn't hard to achieve, but it would be hard to forgive.
His face lost its anger and turned into a sad disbelief. “What? No, I don’t want to break up.” He shook his head multiple times. “Please no, I’m so sorry about what I said, I don’t have an excuse and I understand that you’re upset but…” You didn’t let him finish.
“I said it’s over.” You spoke firmly, emphasizing each word.
Spencer murmured your name in a pleading tone. “Please don’t do this, I love you.” It was the first time that phrase was used as a desperate attempt to not lose you instead of being a way to express how he felt about you.
That almost softened your heart, but unfortunately for him, one of your worst qualities was resentment. And yet, despite all that, he loved you.
You didn't even give him an answer, much less look at him. Both knew that someone had to give in to save whatever was left of your relationship, but you were too proud and he wasn't willing to continue humiliating himself. So he ended up leaving. Maybe if you had said something…
The days after the breakup were tough, especially since both work together and neither was willing to give up their jobs. Although after Penelope left, Matt and Spencer were assigned to special missions and you didn't see him very often anymore. Still, you could recognize the strength of both for putting up with a couple of years working together. Although you and him receive the occasional scolding from Emily for arguing in the middle of a case.
In the meantime, it was already dark and the sun had gone along with your ability to feel happy for two people who definitely deserved it. You knew, you knew it was the right thing to do and yet it still didn't feel that way.
Unfortunately, the melancholy of the night was accompanied by a revelation or maybe it was just the longing for what if...? If what if were a reality, you would have been married to Spencer for years, you would possibly already have his childrens, and perhaps everything would be perfect, or perhaps not, it was something you would never know.
They say it's never too late but this time it was. Now Max had the chance to take the Reid name even though she preferred to keep her maiden name. You wondered what you would do in her place, probably the same but you didn't have the chance to make that choice. You took that chance away from yourself.
There were at least five couples on the dance floor, including Max, who was dancing with her dad.
You frowned at not finding Spencer, but then it seemed like your longing summoned him because you heard his voice. That unrecognizable voice that you could never forget, which would be the protagonist of your dreams and torments.
“I have to admit, you impress me.” He sounded much more relaxed now, of course, his wife had that effect on him. You knew that when Max stayed by his side after Cat Adams.
“Why?” You knew the answer, but you wanted it to come out of his lips.
“If it was your wedding I wouldn’t have even shown up.” The ease with which he admitted the truth caught you off guard. “I guess you’re stronger than me, you always were.” No, that’s not true.
“Strong people don’t run away.” You had the opportunity that very few people have, correct Spencer Reid.
“I guess you’re the exception.” Then he extended a hand in your direction. “Dance with me.”
You stared at his palm for seconds disguised as minutes. “You hate dancing.” You muttered.
“Yes, but I know I would hate myself more if I didn’t end this in a proper way.” There it was, the Spencer you knew. Now someone else’s Spencer.
So you took his hand and he led you to the dance floor. Once he put his hand on your waist and you put your hand on his shoulder the rest of the people disappeared for you and secretly for him too.
Both swayed in silence to the slow ballad. Inevitably your eyes fell on the ring that wrapped around his finger perfectly, regret maybe prompting you to speak. “Would you have waited for me to be ready?” You whispered.
“Would you ever have been ready?” Reid murmured, this time not meaning to hurt you but he did it anyway.
You squeezed his hand a little. “I’m ready now.” Your words were low, but without hesitation, not this time. Who needed alcohol to make a strong statement?
Spencer sighed and pulled you closer to him, placing his hand on your back. “You’re being cruel right now.” He spoke in a low tone, but firm and calm at the same time.
“Please.” You pleaded. “I just need an answer.”
He swallowed. “Yes, I would’ve waited for you.” He whispered in your ear.
The party continues, with dancing, drinks and several kisses that you were not the protagonist of but bitterly had to witness.
You couldn't take it anymore, so you grabbed your coat and bag before heading for the exit. Since you had a reputation for being a runaway, you didn't bother to say goodbye to your friends, much less the happy newlyweds.
“Wait.” Whatever you want.
You stood still in your spot, waiting for him to come to you. “You can’t leave without your slice of cake.” Spencer handed you the plate and gave one of those smiles that hadn’t been directed at you in years.
There were a thousand things you wanted to say to him. But only one thing made it past your lips. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Wait, I have something else for you.” Then he pulled something out of his trousers pocket.
That couldn’t be what your eyes were seeing, so you closed them and blinked multiple times. But he was still holding that beautiful engagement ring. “This was always for you, even if it doesn’t have the meaning I once wanted it to have now.”
Used to mean something, but now it means nothing.
You didn't take the ring, you just watched Reid in silence. He had chosen perfectly well…
At your silence he spoke again. “I heard some men recycle them. You know they buy an engagement ring for one woman and if they get rejected they save it for the next one. I couldn’t do that to Max, or you either.” He took your hand, extending your palm and placing the ring on it.
“No, I can’t accept that and I don’t think Max would be okay with this…” Your eyes remained fixed on the piece of silver and diamonds.
“It doesn’t mean anything now.” Ouch. “It did before and if it were still like this she would definitely be upset and me too.” Spencer clarified. “But now I want this to mark the end of what was supposed to be a beginning.” He paused. “I won’t force you to accept it, but I know the man who loved you would’ve wanted you to have it.”
You closed your palm around the ring. “Don’t talk like he doesn’t exist anymore, Spencer. You’re still the same, you just don’t love me anymore and that’s okay, that has nothing to do with who you are.” The word love ripped through your throat.
“It had everything to do with what I was.” He confessed.
The silence reigned long enough for both to turn around, walking further and further away and returning to the place where they now belonged.
With every step you took you wished that he would catch you and never let you go, not this time. But it was too late to do anything, trying anything now would be fighting a battle you know is lost.
And finally, the only thing left was a story. One last souvenir from a journey as special as it was devastating. Your name will always be present in the stories Spencer will tell his children, the same stories that will be within your reach, but the story isn’t yours anymore.
I Need you to know that this is so hurting me right now. You know the angst is absolutely incredible when your readers are physically pained by this. I need a Glass of water and six fluffy fics to help me after this.
↳ In which reader has to face the consequences of her past decisions when she goes to Spencer's wedding. Will it be too late to redeem the past?
main masterlist | my previous fanfic
who? Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
inspired by: The manuscript by Taylor Swift (A little bit, literally just in one sentence)
category: angst (really, ANGST)
warnings: Discussions, special appearance sassy Reid (did I mention I love him?) and I think that's it. English isn't my first language.
word count: 3.5K
a/n: I was finally able to write so I'm happy again thanks to Spencer Reid (the love of my life). This is actually something that made me cry so I'm sorry? But in my defense I do vent when I write (Although maybe this time I went a little too far) Anyway, I hope you like it and sorry for disappearing.
Something that will hurt longer than it lasted. What do you call something like that? When it was going on you never called it what it was and Spencer was the one who paid the terrible consequences.
The cold freezes your fingertips, how is that possible if it's a sunny day? Seemingly a perfect day, but not for you.
“I didn’t think you’d come.” Spencer’s sweet voice made you turn around, only this time it didn’t sound sweet at all.
You stopped to appreciate his suit, for the work you almost always saw him wear those suits that made him even more attractive than he already was. But what was different this time was the boutonnière on the left lapel of his jacket. “Well, you invited me.” you replied with an awkward smile.
His brow furrowed. “Not me, Max was the one who invited you.” He corrected you roughly, not like all those times he gently explained the difference of some things which you couldn’t remember right now but the knowledge was there, being overshadowed by the memories.
Your lips formed a straight line, how to respond that? “Yes, she was very nice to invite me.”
Reid’s face softened, just a little. “Yeah, well everyone in the BAU had an invitation except you so she decided to give you the chance I took from you.” Just like you had taken away a chance from him years ago, but he didn’t say that even though he wanted to. “Seriously, I didn’t think you’d come.”
And he was right, you weren't going to go but now you're there. You hadn't thought of it that way, but maybe it was a way to punish yourself for making him lose almost eight years of his life or maybe it was a way to seek redemption…
Of course attending his wedding was a punishment, but not just for you.
“But I’m here, hoping that you’ll be very happy with Max.” You whispered, wondering why honest words made your heart bleed. “And I’m so sorry for the pain I once caused you.” When you say more your chest feels heavier. The truth was supposed to set you free, not oppress you.
Spencer sighed, trying to keep that icy expression but the apologies he always expected had an effect on him. “It’s okay.” No, it wasn’t. “You’re like a firefly, once they’re captured they don’t glow anymore. I just never wanted you to feel trapped, much less by me.” His throat threatened to close up so he cleared it. “And as for the rest, Max already makes me very happy. I hope that someday you find someone who does the same for you.” A hint of sadness crept into his forced smile.
You had already found him, but you crushed his heart which caused him to give the ring to someone else.
The quartet began to play their violins, that was the signal that the bride was approaching the altar. Everyone took their places, fortunately yours was next to Penelope, unfortunately in the first rows.
Max was holding her father's arm, whom you only saw once after you and the team saved him and Max's little sister from a kidnapped. A long and not very pleasant story, which luckily (or maybe not) ended well for the two of them Max and Spencer. A sentence written in cursive on the invitations indicated that today was the first day of a forever..
Maybe the word “forever” was that it took your breath away and oppressed you to the point of wanting to run away. Yes, maybe that simple word was responsible for your miserable life caused by the fear of belonging to someone thanks to the signature on a paper.
Everyone watched as Max walked down the aisle, accompanied by the beautiful melody coming from the violins. They could see how her beautiful white dress dragged a little on the perfect grass and they could also see that the outfit made her look so beautiful, of course she must look fantastic on her day.
But you weren't with the flock, as Max moved closer to a life with Spencer, you could only watch him and no one else. You could see the goofy smile that once was for you and you could also see how he was close to shedding tears, just seeing his fiancée in a dress she would surely wear once in her life apparently had that effect on him.
And you knew very well that you had no right to make claims, you had the opportunity to be that woman, his woman, but you preferred to run away. Even so, that didn't stop one conclusion from breaking you down: He never looked at you that way and now he never would.
You had taken it upon yourself to burn everything that had to do with Spencer and now you were sitting there with one word stuck in your throat. The only thing left to say before it was too late.
Your throat closed up and the air seemed to be a private service you hadn't paid for. You took a deep breath before looking anywhere other than the scene that was about to unfold under the flowered arch. But that only made your melancholic-natured brain hit you with a memory. Something you couldn't quite burn off.
That's what brings you back to a place. Of course Rossi had to offer his mansion to Max and Spencer for their wedding. But there had been a wedding there before Will and JJ's.
The ceremony was about to begin, so Spencer came back to your side. “I hope you don’t pull a ring out of my ear like you just did to Henry.” You said.
He let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “I won’t.” He placed a kiss on your cheek. “Though I must admit, it is an interesting idea for a proposal.”
Maybe that would have been the perfect time to tell him that marriage wasn't something you were interested in, but it was JJ's day so you didn't say anything. Although your mistake in that moment was smiling and intertwining your fingers with his, as if you were willing to wear a diamond on your ring finger.
Four years, four years ago your and Spencer's story had come to an end and yet it felt like it was just yesterday when he crossed through the door of your apartment, taking with him things you didn't think you'd miss until you heard him say. "I do.”
Nothing, nothing would be enough to compare or describe the pain you felt at that moment. It was like someone invaded your chest, ripped your heart out in one go and left you with a void that would sprout cobwebs because no one would be enough to fill that hollow space on you.
When Spencer went to prison it was one of the hardest times both had to deal as a couple and as individuals. But it was something both managed to deal with together and maybe that's what gave him the wrong message.
Of course, how not to misinterpret the nights you hugged him after every nightmare, how not to misinterpret the millions of letters and finally how not to misinterpret the constant visits that made you a little negligent at work, which would have justified your dismissal if Emily were a different chief.
Maybe if you hadn't been there that day…
You were filling your coffee cup when Penelope showed up, waiting for you to put down the coffee pot so she could fill her cute octopus cup which is currently Spencer's and is named Mildred.
“Why are you so quiet?” You asked before putting the coffee pot back.
“Me? Quiet?” Despite her efforts, there was that telltale tone in her voice.
“Yeah, you. You didn’t give me any of those typical Penelope Garcia witty greetings.” A mocking smile formed on your lips.
“I’m completely fine, I just don’t have any witty greetings today.” She excused herself without looking at you and dedicated to filling her cup.
“Mhm, yes, of course.” You looked at her under the light of the five hundred and sixty hours of your profiling course. “You have a secret. That is the reason for your silence, you are afraid that if you speak you might say something that I should not know.”
You were amused that she was still able to look at you in surprise knowing full well that she was working with more profilers than her sanity could handle. “I’ll just say that you should get a manicure.” She looked straight at your nails before gracefully turning around and heading back to her cave.
Maybe that must have made you laugh a little, but you didn't need to be a great profiler to understand what the hell she was talking about.
A week.
That's how long it had been since Penelope gave you a big little spoiler of what your future would be like if you didn't do something about it, so you decided to do the worst thing you could think of and you were avoiding Spencer at all costs. And even though you two were technically still together, your apartment felt empty without his light.
The cobblestones were slippery from the rain and your fingers were frozen. Before pushing open the door of the building you blew into your hands, hoping that your breath would bring the warmth you needed.
Finally the elevator dropped you off at your floor and you only had to walk a little to get to the door of your apartment but…
“We need to talk.” His tone retained that sweetness that was only meant for you, but the weight of the situation was evident in the hint of seriousness that carried in his voice.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” You brushed it off as you approached to greet him with a short kiss.
He kissed you back, because well he couldn’t help it. “There isn’t? I say we definitely need to talk.” He said as you opened the door to your apartment. “It’s not normal for you to avoid me, much less for this long.”
You left the door open for him. “I’ve just been busy.” You replied.
He closed the door behind him. “I know, we have the same job.” He sighed before walking over to you and placing his hands on your shoulders. “Please can you tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.” Spencer had that pleading look in his bright, tortured eyes.
“Nothing’s wrong with me.” Your walls rose so high that even you felt upset with yourself.
“Then why are you avoiding me?” Spencer tried hard to keep his tone calm even though he was starting to get frustrated and irritated.
Your pulse was racing, you could feel your ears throbbing, and uncertainty added to the equation so the words came out like bullets. “Because I don’t want to marry you!”
Spencer stood still in place, not even blinking. “…Just with me?” His weak words were a huge contrast to yours which sounded like thunder, the kind of thunder that sets things on fire.
“With no one, I don’t want to marry you or anyone else.” You quickly clarified with a brusqueness that didn’t help improve the tension. “Why ruin everything when our relationship is perfect as it is?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not.” Spencer took a step back and let out an exasperated sigh. “In all these years of dating, why haven’t you ever said anything?” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to remember if he’d misunderstood everything. “I don’t get it. I made advances and you seemed okay with it.”
“Well, you never asked me directly.” You excused yourself.
“You know very well that I always wanted a family.” He reminded you in a firm tone. “When I got out of prison you were always there and I thought you would still be there…” He couldn’t control the pain that materialized in his eyes.
“I’ll be here, not the way you want but I’ll be here.” You tried to keep away the desperation in your words from being evident.
"If you weren't planning on marrying me, why waste all these years of my life? It's too late for me now." You hoped your words hadn't hurt him like his words hurt you right now, because if that was the case then you had hurt him deeply.
“Too late for what?” You asked with annoyance, although fearing the answer.
“To find someone who is ready.” Spencer blurted out as if it were nothing, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on the most fragile building.
Of course, just because you weren't ready didn't mean someone else wasn't.
You nodded, a grimace appearing on your face. “Well, you’re not the only one wasting time on this relationship. I’m glad to tell you it’s over.” A new ounce of cruelty was added with each word.
It's funny how it would never have occurred to you to hurt Spencer in any way, but at that moment you just wanted to make him feel more miserable than you. Which wasn't hard to achieve, but it would be hard to forgive.
His face lost its anger and turned into a sad disbelief. “What? No, I don’t want to break up.” He shook his head multiple times. “Please no, I’m so sorry about what I said, I don’t have an excuse and I understand that you’re upset but…” You didn’t let him finish.
“I said it’s over.” You spoke firmly, emphasizing each word.
Spencer murmured your name in a pleading tone. “Please don’t do this, I love you.” It was the first time that phrase was used as a desperate attempt to not lose you instead of being a way to express how he felt about you.
That almost softened your heart, but unfortunately for him, one of your worst qualities was resentment. And yet, despite all that, he loved you.
You didn't even give him an answer, much less look at him. Both knew that someone had to give in to save whatever was left of your relationship, but you were too proud and he wasn't willing to continue humiliating himself. So he ended up leaving. Maybe if you had said something…
The days after the breakup were tough, especially since both work together and neither was willing to give up their jobs. Although after Penelope left, Matt and Spencer were assigned to special missions and you didn't see him very often anymore. Still, you could recognize the strength of both for putting up with a couple of years working together. Although you and him receive the occasional scolding from Emily for arguing in the middle of a case.
In the meantime, it was already dark and the sun had gone along with your ability to feel happy for two people who definitely deserved it. You knew, you knew it was the right thing to do and yet it still didn't feel that way.
Unfortunately, the melancholy of the night was accompanied by a revelation or maybe it was just the longing for what if...? If what if were a reality, you would have been married to Spencer for years, you would possibly already have his childrens, and perhaps everything would be perfect, or perhaps not, it was something you would never know.
They say it's never too late but this time it was. Now Max had the chance to take the Reid name even though she preferred to keep her maiden name. You wondered what you would do in her place, probably the same but you didn't have the chance to make that choice. You took that chance away from yourself.
There were at least five couples on the dance floor, including Max, who was dancing with her dad.
You frowned at not finding Spencer, but then it seemed like your longing summoned him because you heard his voice. That unrecognizable voice that you could never forget, which would be the protagonist of your dreams and torments.
“I have to admit, you impress me.” He sounded much more relaxed now, of course, his wife had that effect on him. You knew that when Max stayed by his side after Cat Adams.
“Why?” You knew the answer, but you wanted it to come out of his lips.
“If it was your wedding I wouldn’t have even shown up.” The ease with which he admitted the truth caught you off guard. “I guess you’re stronger than me, you always were.” No, that’s not true.
“Strong people don’t run away.” You had the opportunity that very few people have, correct Spencer Reid.
“I guess you’re the exception.” Then he extended a hand in your direction. “Dance with me.”
You stared at his palm for seconds disguised as minutes. “You hate dancing.” You muttered.
“Yes, but I know I would hate myself more if I didn’t end this in a proper way.” There it was, the Spencer you knew. Now someone else’s Spencer.
So you took his hand and he led you to the dance floor. Once he put his hand on your waist and you put your hand on his shoulder the rest of the people disappeared for you and secretly for him too.
Both swayed in silence to the slow ballad. Inevitably your eyes fell on the ring that wrapped around his finger perfectly, regret maybe prompting you to speak. “Would you have waited for me to be ready?” You whispered.
“Would you ever have been ready?” Reid murmured, this time not meaning to hurt you but he did it anyway.
You squeezed his hand a little. “I’m ready now.” Your words were low, but without hesitation, not this time. Who needed alcohol to make a strong statement?
Spencer sighed and pulled you closer to him, placing his hand on your back. “You’re being cruel right now.” He spoke in a low tone, but firm and calm at the same time.
“Please.” You pleaded. “I just need an answer.”
He swallowed. “Yes, I would’ve waited for you.” He whispered in your ear.
The party continues, with dancing, drinks and several kisses that you were not the protagonist of but bitterly had to witness.
You couldn't take it anymore, so you grabbed your coat and bag before heading for the exit. Since you had a reputation for being a runaway, you didn't bother to say goodbye to your friends, much less the happy newlyweds.
“Wait.” Whatever you want.
You stood still in your spot, waiting for him to come to you. “You can’t leave without your slice of cake.” Spencer handed you the plate and gave one of those smiles that hadn’t been directed at you in years.
There were a thousand things you wanted to say to him. But only one thing made it past your lips. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Wait, I have something else for you.” Then he pulled something out of his trousers pocket.
That couldn’t be what your eyes were seeing, so you closed them and blinked multiple times. But he was still holding that beautiful engagement ring. “This was always for you, even if it doesn’t have the meaning I once wanted it to have now.”
Used to mean something, but now it means nothing.
You didn't take the ring, you just watched Reid in silence. He had chosen perfectly well…
At your silence he spoke again. “I heard some men recycle them. You know they buy an engagement ring for one woman and if they get rejected they save it for the next one. I couldn’t do that to Max, or you either.” He took your hand, extending your palm and placing the ring on it.
“No, I can’t accept that and I don’t think Max would be okay with this…” Your eyes remained fixed on the piece of silver and diamonds.
“It doesn’t mean anything now.” Ouch. “It did before and if it were still like this she would definitely be upset and me too.” Spencer clarified. “But now I want this to mark the end of what was supposed to be a beginning.” He paused. “I won’t force you to accept it, but I know the man who loved you would’ve wanted you to have it.”
You closed your palm around the ring. “Don’t talk like he doesn’t exist anymore, Spencer. You’re still the same, you just don’t love me anymore and that’s okay, that has nothing to do with who you are.” The word love ripped through your throat.
“It had everything to do with what I was.” He confessed.
The silence reigned long enough for both to turn around, walking further and further away and returning to the place where they now belonged.
With every step you took you wished that he would catch you and never let you go, not this time. But it was too late to do anything, trying anything now would be fighting a battle you know is lost.
And finally, the only thing left was a story. One last souvenir from a journey as special as it was devastating. Your name will always be present in the stories Spencer will tell his children, the same stories that will be within your reach, but the story isn’t yours anymore.
↳ At his darkest point, Reid decides to meet with reader under the pretext of closing that chapter in his life, but maybe his feelings for reader are more alive than he thought.
change the ending series masterlist | main masterlist
who? Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
category: angst
warnings/content: mentions of Maeve, discussions in a public place, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), special appearance by sassy Reid (because i'm his fan) mild use of vodka and mention of alcohol. English is not my first language.
word count: 3.8K
a/n: Obviously the name of this part is a reference to cardigan but I love What if...? so it's a fun coincidence. And I have a very good justification for what reader did so wait for the final part. I wrote this a while ago and I was going to wait longer to publish this but unfortunately I've been too busy to finish my drafts and it's been a rough couple of days which has also prevented me from doing what I love most. Anyway I hope you enjoy this <3
What if you were to appear in his life again?
Maybe if he hadn't asked that damn question...
Well, long before that, a lot of blood had already been shed and most of it was his.
What if he agreed to meet you?
Well, it was something Spencer was about to find out and honestly it wouldn't be the first time a question had gotten him into trouble.
<<Maybe the past should stay where it was>> He kept telling himself but he was never good with that.
"Hey Spence, drinks at O'Keefe, you come?" JJ asked as the rest of the team made their way to the elevator.
Reid pulled on his coat. "No, I uh, I have a date." The words were out before he could reason them out. "Well, it's not really a date, more of a meeting of old acquaintances..."
JJ understood immediately. "The lawyer?"
Reid's gaze was lost on the floor. "Yeah, her." He sighed.
"Are you going to see her? I don't know if that's a good idea." JJ didn't get a answer.
"I read the file I asked Garcia to make for you. Her mother was the principal at your high school and her father was a professor at MIT at the time when you studied there before going to Caltech." Yes JJ, there was a reason why that had happened. "That happened a decade ago Spence, I guess it ended badly and I know for a fact that no one can be special for that long time, not like that."
"She does." The truth broke through his stone wall. "A file doesn't say how much I loved her, all the times we shared, how I thought I knew her better than she knew herself, and it doesn't say I slept with her." The lump in his throat thickened. "Someone I had my first times with will be special until the day I die."
The thoughts materialized into reality before he could stop them. It was horrifying to be seen so vulnerable by someone...
But he had to admit that it felt good to relieve some of the burden on his bones.
JJ's eyebrows rose and her eyes widened. "You're right..." She whispered. "But if she's so special, why didn't you treat her like that at the police station?"
Reid picked up his briefcase. "I wouldn't have done it if she hadn't crushed my heart." He replied curtly before walking past her towards the exit.
∗⋅✧⋅∗
"What are you going to order?" You asked him as your eyes scanned the menu.
He should be repeating your action, but instead he was watching you.
From the moment you entered the restaurant he felt like he was so close to have a heart attack. Well, his skin was cold, he was dazed and he swore he felt a pressure in his chest but of course he knew he wasn't having a heart attack because statistically it's more common to have a heart attack after the 45 than at his age.
"Same as you." He replied without interest in a successful attempt to hide his true feelings.
You nodded before pointing the waiter to the saucer on the menu. "Two orders but one without creamed spinach."
A crack appeared in his stone wall.
His heart skipped a beat at that 'nonsense' and he hated himself for it.
He seemed to be 100% sure that you never loved him and now you came out with this, remembering perfectly what he hated...
The waiter took the order and then left with the menus.
He was so quiet so you decided to be the first to break the ice. "How's your mom?"
His mind played tricks on him as projected the time he introduced you to his mother. "She's fine." He said defensively.
Your brow furrowed. "Hey, you were the one who called." You had a very good point that even he couldn't deny.
He sighed and folded his hands together on the table. "And you were the one who suggested we meet."
You leaned over the table. "Don't start with that or you'll lose." The waiter came back and left the dishes on the table, so you rejoin in your seat.
"Lose? Is everything a game to you?" He asked sternly. Oh no, this was heating up a lot sooner than you anticipated.
"Of course not." You defended yourself. "But don't pretend that I started this when I know damn well that you investigated me."
His brow furrowed as a question swam through his mind. "It wasn't me to begin with."
"Oh sure." You took out your cell phone and placed it on the table.
He took your cell phone when he saw a photo of him with Penelope taken directly from her instagram.
"I get a notification every time someone searches for me on the internet, but I didn't get the IP address of course was the FBI." You explained.
"A little so paranoid, don't you think?" He said cynically.
"Let me continue." You reprimanded him. "And oh surprise after being investigated by someone anonymous, a certain Penelope Garcia started following me on Instagram."
Reid closed his eyes for a moment. "In my defense, I didn't ask her to do that." JJ do, but he don't.
"Of course, it was like a favor between friends?" You crossed your arms.
He looked at you directly. "What does that tell you that she's only my friend?" Reid knew exactly what he meant by that.
"Well she's not your wife." You looked at his hands thankfully finding the absence of a ring. "And I doubt she's your girlfriend. She's not your type." Your second statement was accompanied by a slight movement at the corner of your mouth, almost like a smile.
He leaned forward. "Oh yeah? So who's my type?" He whispered so damn provocative.
Spencer had that damn power where his eyes seemed to be able to read your soul. "Me." The words left your mouth almost immediately.
"Don't give yourself so much credit." That was a huge blow to your ego. "Maybe you were my type, when I was seventeen. But look at you and look at me. I'm thirty one and I'm not a kid anymore."
And when you had nothing left you used your last weapon. "Well, you act like one."
Reid sighed as if it wasn't worth his time to continue wasting his time on you. "You and your old tricks."
You looked away, trying to find a better counterattack. "So tell me, what's your type now?" Curiosity won out over revenge.
"Well I'm dating someone now." Those simple words were the equivalent of a gunshot or so you thought, you'd never been shot.
You swallowed in an attempt to undo the lump in your throat. "And what is she like?" Yeah, maybe you didn't want to hear the answer to that.
"Very clever would be an understatement." He replied proudly.
<<Of course, someone like him>> you thought.
At that moment a memory invaded your mind.
"So you're dating with Spencer Reid? Isn't he too smart for you?"
Words spoken 14 years ago still had the power to make you feel so small and it was worse when it were accompanied by that thunderous teenage laughter.
"And is she pretty?" You asked as if something as absurd as physical appearance would make you feel better.
His mistake was answering you truthfully. "I think so." He immediately scolded himself.
Your brow furrowed. “You think so? So you don’t even know what she looks like?” You let out a humorless laugh. “That’s so stupid, dating someone you’ve never even met.”
His eyes flared with anger, but he tried to maintain his composure. "Appearance is not something that has ever mattered to me and even though I have never seen her in person I know her better than I ever knew you."
"If appearance never mattered to you then what the hell did you see in me?" Your voice rose a little. "Because I was never as smart or perfect as you wanted me to be."
"I never, ever made you feel inferior to me." His voice rose as well. "And now that I think about it, I have no idea what the hell I ever saw in you."
Your bottom lip trembled slightly, almost imperceptible but he saw it and you saw that he saw it, so you looked away in an attempt to not look so fragile.
"I..." His voice faltered, of course he was still angry but the possibility of hurting you, no matter how small, made him feel like he didn't deserve the air he breathed. "I really don't know, it was only when I least expected it that the feelings were there..." He sighed. "I guess I just needed the happiness you gave me." His words were barely a whisper.
How could forget?, you had drew stars around his scars from the second he met you. But what did that matter when you made him bleed?
"And now someone else gives you that happiness?" You looked down at the floor, fearing the answer.
When he said yes it was like you had nothing left. Immediately your eyes filled with tears and you tried at all costs to avoid him noticing.
But he was a profiler so of course he noticed.
What if you would've confessed the truth on that swing?
Before answering his question, it's necessary to take a look at the past.
∗⋅✧⋅∗
<<I did something wrong?>> The question settled in his mind a week ago when you started acting weird around him, but since then the question wouldn't leave him alone.
You were alone in home, just lying on the couch watching TV.
But you were forced out of the comfort of the blanket when there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” You wondered if you should pull out the welcome mat or a knife.
"Spencer Reid." He didn't need to say his full name, it's not like you'd meet another Spencer and even if you did, when you heard the name you'd only think of him, your boyfriend.
Hearing his voice from the other side of the door, you immediately put on your slippers to go over and open the door and when you did...
"You've never told me what your favorite flowers are, so I bought one of each. Well, at least from the ones in the flower shop." As he explained, your eyes took in each beautiful flower perfectly arranged in the large, beautiful bouquet. "Maybe I should have gone to a bigger flower shop..."
You immediately shook your head and moved closer to join your lips with his. He accepted immediately, placing his free hand on your waist.
You gave him small kisses before pulling away. "It's perfect, thank you." You whispered before taking the bouquet.
You went to get a flower vase from the kitchen and you didn't see Spencer, so you peeked out only to see him standing in the doorway, waiting.
"Are you a vampire who needs to be invited in?" After a week a joke had the honor of leaving your lips.
He smiled shyly before he closed the door behind him. "Where's your dad?"
"Exam season he stays late, you know." You explained as you filled the flower vase with water. "You must be pretty stressed and busy too." You glanced at him briefly before placing the flowers in the vase.
"I'm never busy for you." He cautiously approached you.
Your gaze was lost in the beautiful bouquet he bought for you and then you had a hard time breathing because of how sweet he was, such a good boyfriend, so perfect. You thought that you didn't deserve him.
"Well then what do you want to do? We can go outside to the swings in the garden or we can go up to my room while dad is not there." You suggested, lowering your voice a little as you said the second.
Reid's cheeks quickly flushed pink. "I... uhm." He scratched the back of his neck.
His skin grew warm just remembering your hand inside his sweatshirt. It had only been a couple of days since his first time with you and he was still breathless just remembering it.
"We can go to the swings and talk, that's what I came here." He paused. "But if you want, we can go to your room afterwards..." He whispered.
Both swung on the swings, the air brushing against your face as both rose higher.
"And what did you want to talk about?" You asked while stretching your legs to climb higher than him.
He stopped the swing from moving and looked at you as if silently requesting you to imitate his action.
Your swing stopped next to his. “You’ve been a little distant lately. Did I do something to upset you or hurt you in some way?” He scanned your expression for answers.
You shook your head immediately.
"So what is it?" He looked at you with pleading eyes before taking your hand and rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
You nodded, you needed to tell him something and despite what he said you couldn't tell the truth. So you opted for something else that had also made your days bad.
You took a deep breath. "My parents are getting divorced."
He looked at you with understanding but said nothing, waiting for you to continue.
"I was having a bad day and luckily you showed up." You smiled lightly at him. "They gave me the news a few days ago and I don't know how I didn't see it coming. My mom is in Las Vegas and my dad is here in Cambridge. I thought the long distance relationship was working for them but it turns out that they cannot tolerate being close to each other."
Your eyes filled with tears. "I know I'm not a little girl anymore who has to suffer because her parents are separating, but it hurts." He nodded before placing a sweet kiss on your knuckles. "Now that I think about it, I don't know of any relationship that has lasted that long. Can love last that long? Because if not, then how much time do we have left?"
Panic welled up in his gut. “We’re not your parents and we’re not my parents.” He tightened his grip on your hand slightly. “I’ll always be yours.” So that’s why it’s said to be careful what you say.
∗⋅✧⋅∗
"Have you ever wondered what would happened if you had told me the truth that night at your house?" The question came out before he could stop it.
You managed to keep not a single tear from falling, you had gotten good at that over the years. "You would've broken up with me." Yes, you had thought about that a thousand times.
"It's not true." The truth was humiliating. "And if it had been so, what was the point of you leaving me first?" He scolded you, pain and repressed anger seeping through every syllable.
What if you hadn't left like a father and running like water? The answer was not good for his dignity.
"Well if you think you have the answer tell me what would have happened if I had told you the truth that day?" You asked abruptly.
The truth was something I would never say out loud to you, but I had thought about that answer for 14 years.
He wanted to think that both would have worked things out together, that both would stay together until you finished college and then he would bought the most beautiful ring and gotten down on one knee.
You probably said yes and then you would be his wife now, Mrs. Reid. And maybe both would have a child, maybe two.
But that was only a possibility 14 years ago, now it was an impossibility. Because he lived in a cruel reality where he wasn't your husband or the father of your children.
"We could have fixed it." He replied with a half-truth, leaving out the rings, the white dress, and the cribs. "But you left me and ran away from me..." The words burned in his throat.
"I wasn't running away from you..." You whispered.
"Then what?" His tone was harsh.
"Of the consequences." You tried to hide the vulnerability in your words, but what your lips hide, your eyes show.
He had nothing left, why continue hiding the truth? "I would have forgiven you." He confessed quietly.
∗⋅✧⋅∗
Spencer hated when you and him separated at parties, because he was only there for you.
This time both separated because you had to go to the bathroom or so he thought.
"Hey Spencer, you need to control your damn girlfriend." Kelly's words made him frown.
"What are you talking about?"
"Haven't you heard? The whole school is whispering that she slept with Ryan and like two minutes ago she kissed him in the garden." Kelly replied, almost steaming from her ears.
But for Reid what Kelly said couldn't be true, you would never be capable of doing something like that...
But once doubt sets in there's only one way to stop it. So he came look for you.
When you came out of the bathroom a couple of girls gave you a glass of vodka perhaps, a glass that you accepted.
You took a sip before walking into the living room, back to Spencer. But he met you halfway and snatched the glass from your hand. "You said you weren't going to drink tonight." He spoke in an unusually serious tone.
"I'm sorry, but the girls just showed up." He continued to look at you with that horrible seriousness. "I only took a sip, if you want I can throw it." Your attempt to please him didn't work.
"Whatever, that doesn't matter now." He set the glass down somewhere. "We need to talk." He ordered, the boy who always asked you if you wanted to do something or not.
Your hands immediately turned cold. Maybe he had already decided that you weren't enough for him. "Yes, yes. Here or-?"
"Outside." He took your hand and led you outside before you could say anything.
"Kelly told me something... interesting." He kept his ice mask on or he probably would collapse there.
"Kelly always tells gossips, she loves gossip." You laughed at the quality of your 'friend' who was one minute away from ruining your life.
Spencer didn't laugh, he remained serious. "Kelly said you kissed Ryan today and that you slept with him." You immediately frowned upon hearing something as absurd as that.
Then some popular guys walked past you and Spencer, unfortunately you heard what they were whispering.
"What's someone like her doing with a nerd like him?"
"She's going to end up being a loser like him." Well at least he already has a PhD and is close to have another one.
Well, you'd heard worse things about him and yourself actually.
"Is that true?" He ask, obviously trying to find out the truth and recapture your attention that was lost with those boys.
"Can we talk about this somewhere else?" You insisted when you felt those looks judging you, mocking you, burning you...
"Why? Are you ashamed of me?" He crossed his arms and looked at you sternly.
"What?!" You immediately scolded yourself as you earned glances from a few guys.
"I'm sick of pretending I don't notice that you've been avoiding physical contact when we're with your friends lately, among other things that make it seem like you're embarrassed to dating with me." Between his words and the stares on your face you felt breathing getting harder with every second.
"Spencer, can we really talk somewhere else?" You asked as your eyes darted around, feeling the stares judging you.
"No, let's talk here and now." He replied firmly.
Everything was starting to spin and your breathing was getting harder and harder. Then, like a miracle with some price, your phone rang.
"It's my dad, I have to answer." You told to Spencer, still in a daze before moving away from him so you could answer.
He let out a frustrated sigh but let you go, not knowing you weren't coming back.
∗⋅✧⋅∗
"But it's too late now." He said quickly in the moment he seemed you were to say something.
Your eyes closed for a moment. Defeat was something you didn't want to get out of this meeting. "I'm really sorry Spencer, I've had a really bad fourteen years just tearing myself apart over a mistake I made when I was young and didn't know anything, I was only seventeen..."
He looked at you without compassion. "Very bad years?" He let out a humorless laugh. "You were engaged during those years while I had nothing." He emphasized his words. "I was the same age, so your only justification will be that nonsense?"
"Yes, I was engaged but that's over." You replied firmly. "However, I'm sorry and there's nothing I can do to make up for it because for you nothing will ever be enough!" You raised your voice again, not remembering that both had an audience, it was a surprise that they didn't kick you out of the restaurant. "Besides, that happened fourteen fucking years ago, get over it!"
"Get over it? Get over it is what I've been trying for more than a decade and just when I'm overtaking you, living in my present and finding a good girl you come back to my life like a damn storm to truncate everything I built." He also raised his voice, letting everything come out of his system. "Sometimes I wish I had never met you."
His words went to pulverize every one of your bones. "I'm really sorry..." Your voice was barely a whisper.
"If you're so sorry then just leave me alone for good." He demanded, his tone lowered this time but just as painful.
"If that's what you want..." You replied quietly, you would have liked to be the first to leave but it seemed like your body was still clinging to something that was never going to be.
Spencer paid the bill before leaving you with your words stuck in your throat.
Reid walked alone down the street, the cold brushing his skin and then he looked at the broken cobblestones on the ground...
Would there ever be anything in the world that didn't remind him of you?
What if there was a woman (other than you) that he could love?
Maeve was the answer.
Or so he wanted to believe, because he knew very well that saying he loved Maeve was too soon to be real.
He thought he did, he really did. But then the memories of you coming back to haunt him and he realized that saying he loved any woman wasn't you would be blasphemous.
Spencer could never, ever loved someone the way he loved you. The way he maybe still love you...
in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader manage to discuss the direction of their physical relationship between makeouts. reader isn't feeling comfortable at her apartment, so they plan their first trip together.
series masterlist
this fic is 18+
warnings/tags: d/s dynamics but not smutty, softdom!spencer/sub reader, mild pda?, hint at switch!spencer, they talk about sex/how r feels about her first time, making out, r has long hair, almost dry humping if you're standing several miles away, unresolved sexual tension, teasing/flirting. don't like? don't read
a/n: yayyyyy hi guys!! no idea when part 11 will be out. I missed them. I love them so bad. they are my favorite ever. they are so special to me 4ever. hope u missed them and ur just as happy to see them happy as I am :")
“Do you like eyelet?” Spencer asks, reaching up to grab a set of sheets you couldn’t. He insists that you let him get everything from the top shelf because it’s been handled less.
You shrug, distracted by the angle of his jaw and the line of his throat as he retrieves the plastic package.
It’s Sunday. Three nights in a row spent with him—the longest sleepover streak thus far—and you don’t want to go back to sleeping alone tonight. But you know it’s time. Both of you have things to attend to tomorrow, and you’re not exactly in the habit of getting things done when you’re together. All weekend you’ve lounged in his lap on the couch or tangled yourself in his arms in bed—fully clothed, of course. Spencer had suggested the no-sex rule on Friday, and you’re glad for it. You feel no pressure to be doing more when he’s kissing you or holding you.
Of course, the concept of having sex again crosses your mind—when you’re washing your face and catch a glimpse of the bruises on your neck in the mirror, or when the tips of Spencer’s fingers trace idly over a span of exposed skin on your lower back as you watch a movie on the couch and you’re struck with desire, or you move just right and feel a tiny lingering twinge of soreness. There was a time when if you had Spencer Reid to yourself for three nights, a Navy SEAL wouldn’t have been able to pull you off of him. Now, when you think about the fact that there will be a second time, you get that butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling—but you’re not sure if it’s good or apprehensive.
Either way, it’d be too much right now.
You do miss feeling that kind of closeness with him. That intimacy. It can’t be replicated, no matter how many naps you take together. Probably something to do with brain chemicals and hormones. He could explain it all, if you were brave enough to ask.
So you know it’d be too much… but it’s not that you don’t want it. There is also, of course, the issue of the way he looks. It’s not helping your cognition. It’s not encouraging you to make good choices.
You’re not supposed to be thinking about sex. You’re supposed to tell him if you like eyelet.
“Yeah, I guess.”
Spencer gives you an exasperated look and sighs. He’s wearing his glasses today. His hair is freshly washed and fluffy. The navy blue sweater he’s wearing is about the only step between a button down and pajamas for him, and he looks good in casual clothing. You chew your lip.
He doesn’t notice your ogling. “You’ve said that about everything.”
“I’m really not that passionate about the fabric of my sheets,” you defend, shoulders rising and dropping.
“Surely you like some of them less and some of them more. Usually you jump at the chance to express an opinion.”
Okay. Uncalled for.
He’s obviously kidding. You overreact anyway.
“You suck,” you mumble, brushing past him in search of something suitable for your bed.
Spencer processes this for a moment and then trails after you down the aisle.
“I suck?”
“Here, look. Bamboo. That’s good, right?”
Your boyfriend glances at the package you’ve selected, probably holding back a whole host of facts about bamboo farming in China.
“It’s fine. Why do I suck?”
“Because you implied I’m opinionated.”
“I didn’t imply it. It was an explicit statement.”You groan petulantly and put the sheets back on the shelf with force. Spencer picks them up and follows you deeper into the store. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” you huff, turning around to face him once you’re safely sequestered in a new aisle. The store’s not busy—an elderly couple roams for fake fruit and towels, humming vacantly to the Muzak, and a single mom wrangles her kids in a cart. Back here, it’s just the two of you. “Not really.”
“Then what did?” He asks gently, stepping closer. Spencer’s not overly-affectionate in public, but the tone of his voice, the way he’s looking at you like he can see your thoughts, feels intimate.
You’re helpless when he gets like this, and he probably knows it. It’s an abuse of power and when you can think straight again you’ll have to scold him for it.
“It doesn’t even matter. You’re just gonna drop me off after this anyway.”
He tilts his head like a curious puppy, eyes alight with a good puzzle as he quickly strings together the facts in his head.
“Is that it?”
You frown and hesitate, eyes catching on a loose thread at the hem of his sweater.
“… No.”
“Yeah, it is. You’re upset because I’m taking you home.”
You scramble to deny. “That’s not it.”
“I think it is,” he murmurs, a smile playing at the corners of his perfect mouth.
You study the waxen floor tiles intently.
“Well… I mean, would that be weird? You’re gonna miss me too, right?”
You sound unsure—insecure, even. When you look back up at him, his eyes are melted chocolate, even under the fluorescents. He glances down at your mouth briefly and then over your shoulder.
Pleasekissmepleasekissmepleasekissme.
He doesn’t, but you can tell he really wants to, which is almost as good.
“Of course, I’m going to miss you. But we’ll see each other soon. Probably tomorrow.”
“Unless you get called out on a case. But it’s not even really that. It’s just—how am I supposed to… I don’t know! We just spent three nights together. How am I supposed to go back to sleeping alone for a whole week?”
Maybe you’re too attached to him now, because acknowledging the thought which has been lurking all morning opens the floodgates that were holding back a sea of dread, and you feel it in every inch of your body. Five nights alone stretch out before you like an infinite, impassable forest. Friday is an eternity away, and there’s no guarantee he’ll even be here Friday night, if the team gets a case.
Spencer somehow regards you with both curiosity and innate wisdom, like you’re a new specimen in a familiar field, for a long enough moment that your cheeks begin to warm.
“Sorry, that was embarrassing. I’m being weird, it’s fine—”
Just as you go to walk away, he pulls you carefully back in by the wrist, even closer than before.
“No. You’re sweet,” he murmurs, hand warm even through the knit of your sleeve. Gingerly you look back up at him.
“But you’re not gonna miss me as much as I miss you.”
“Do not undermine my capacity for yearning. I missed you when you were brushing your teeth this morning.”
“Ooh. So clingy,” you tease, though you’re obviously delighted by the information, and he borderline pouts.
“Don’t say that. Say you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry,” you laugh as he pulls you to his chest, keeping you there with a hand to your back.
“Okay. Now say you love me.”
For a moment you’re distracted by the proximity, the lowering of his voice as he brings you into his space and your faces are only inches apart. The smell of his body wash coming from both of you.
“I love you,” you breathe, and it’s not as teasing as you’d meant for it to be as his eyes dart to your lips.
Even though you’re bossy, is what you don’t say.
This seems to please him, because finally, he’s tilting his head down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. It’s still enough to make you lightheaded.
“Apology accepted. I love you too,” he murmurs. And then he’s pulling back, trying to walk around you. “Do you wanna stop for coffee on the way back to yours?”
“Wait,” you order, suddenly listless and disoriented in the middle of the aisle. “You’re not gonna…”
Spencer frowns back at you.
“I’m not gonna what?”
“You’re not gonna… say it?”
“… I love you? I did say that.”
“No, there’s—usually when I do stuff you ask me to do, you say—”
Only when the first ray of understanding illuminates his face do you realize you actually shouldn’t have said anything at all.
“Nevermind. Yeah, let’s just go.”
Spencer catches your arm again as you attempt to walk past him, laughing quietly as he leans down to speak in your ear.
“I am not calling you good girl in the small decorative statues aisle.”
“What if we go back to the bedding aisle?” You ask, through the warmth of your own cheeks.
It’s sort of a joke.
“Remember what I said about appropriate context?”
“All those sheets, and duvet covers, and stuff. It’s basically the same.”
When he doesn’t respond, you gather the courage to tear your eyes from a little robot statue and look at him. Eyes ever-so-slightly narrowed, warmed only by a hint of humor. A barely detectable curve of the mouth.
Oops. With all your blind-button pushing, you might’ve accidentally tapped the one responsible for all the marks on your neck—the one that makes him tick in a way which usually ends with you underneath him.
And then, for the first time, you actually watch as he pushes it down—activates some sort of self-cooling system. Probably he understands that whether you meant to be provocative or not, this interaction isn’t headed in a salacious direction. Even if you weren’t in public, the rule is holding fast.
His hand slides from your arm to intertwine with your fingers.
“What are you doing next week?”
You blink at the sudden change in subject and tone.
“Uh… I don’t know. Working, probably.”
“From home?”
“Yeah. Why?”
He chews his lip thoughtfully.
“I… still have a few days of annual leave that I need to use. I don’t know if this is… this might be too much, and you can say no. But Rossi has a place in Shenandoah. It’s a cabin—it’s, it’s really nice, I’ve seen pictures. He used to use it for hunting, I guess now he rents it out in the summer and fall but it’s empty during the off-season and he’s always offering it to the team. It’s only like, an hour away. An hour and nine minutes actually, if you take the 66 Express outside the Beltway from Arlington. I looked it up, um… semi-recently. I’m sure he’d let us use it, if you wanted to come burn four days of leave with me. No pressure. Of any kind. I could also, just, y’know, stay home, and we could still spend time together that way. We could finish Deep Space Nine. Or watch something else. Or watch nothing. Whatever you’d like to do.”
Your heart rate has been increasing steadily since he started his impromptu speech—you’re glad he seems nervous inviting you. You’re a little nervous accepting. A trip together is definitely a new step. But getting the hell out of dodge with him for a few days sounds wonderful.
“I’d love to go,” you say earnestly.
Spencer’s face goes blank for a second, and then his eyebrows raise, like he wasn’t expecting you to say yes.
“Oh. Oh! Great! Okay, I’ll—I’ll talk to Rossi about it tomorrow.”
He remains highly chipper as he hands his card over to the cashier for your new overpriced bamboo sheets.
The promise of getting Spencer to yourself for four consecutive days and nights is the only way you’re able to fall asleep to a cold bed that night.
It’s harder, at home now—you’re self-conscious of every and any noise. Music, cooking, talking on the phone.
It doesn’t make sense, because you know you can’t hear your neighbors, so they shouldn’t be able to hear you, and Jerry’s a creep, who might’ve made the whole thing up just to get under your skin—but it’s all you can think about, when you’re there.
Monday evening, Spencer comes to visit, as promised. You undo all the locks and open the door just enough for him to slip through.
He kisses you hello as you close the door and sets his things down at the table while you relock.
“No Jerry today?”
“Nope. I haven’t seen him since Friday.”
“Good,” Spencer says only once you turn, a distinct chill to his tone and a mostly unfamiliar frigidity to his eyes. It’s not directed at you, but it’s unnerving nonetheless, so you draw closer and wrap your arms around his waist—hoping to melt him back into your Spencer.
He reciprocates, speaks softer now that he has you in his arms, and immediately you feel better.
“Rossi said yes to us staying at the cabin and Emily said I can take the time off. Did you still wanna go?”
You’re pre-occupied with your face buried in his shirt, so you just nod, basking in the scent of his shower products once more. They’ve gone from simply comforting to intoxicating.
“Is everything okay?” He asks quietly, brushing your hair over your shoulder. His fingers barely glance off your neck and you almost shiver. Want begins to pool deep and warm in your stomach as you lift your head and he looks down at you, so fondly.
Want which you can’t afford to feel if you’re not willing to act on it.
“I’m fine,” you breathe. Fuck. He’s too close. He’s too hot. You pull away and move to the kitchen. “Um, dinner. What do you want? We could make something. Or order something. I don’t have much, honestly.”
“I’ll be happy with anything. You sure you’re alright?”
“I don’t want to have sex!”
The words simply explode out of you, like a bat out of hell as you whip around. Just barely you manage not to clap a hand over your mouth in mortification.
You stand, back to the fridge, watching Spencer nervously for his reaction.
His brow knits. His lips part and close again several times.
You’re wondering what the fastest and most convenient method of not being alive anymore would be when he finally answers.
“… Okay. I wasn’t trying to initiate anything, did I—did I make you uncomfortable?”
“No! No, I’m sorry. I just… I wanted you to know that while I’m still, like, figuring things out—like, with my neighbor and everything—it’s just a lot, so… so I know this past weekend we agreed to not do anything and I think it would be best to… keep not doing anything. Just for now. I shouldn’t have said it like that—I didn’t actually… mean to say it. I was gonna, um, find a way to bring it up more delicately.”
You clear your throat and look down to study the patterned tile, cheeks burning.
By way of several nervous glances up at him and back down, you watch Spencer silently come to lean against the counter across from you, arms crossed over his chest.
“Okay. Thank you for telling me. We’re not ever going to do anything you don’t want to do. But, out of curiosity… is this just because of your neighbor? Or because you maybe don’t feel ready yet?”
He’s asking gently, because he wants to know, and you know there’s no wrong answer. It’s still nerve-racking.
“Um… like, a combination of the two, I guess. Mostly… the neighbor. I think. But I’m telling you this because…” and here comes the worst part. “I need you… to… hold me accountable.”
“For what?” He asks plainly, but you know what he sounds like when perfectly suppressing a smile. The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your face as you close your eyes and forge ahead in the name of open and honest communication—something the two of you are trying to work on.
“If I… come on to you… you have to turn me down.”
This is not getting any less embarrassing.
“Should I anticipate you coming onto me?”
“Probably,” you sigh, looking at him through your lashes and bringing your hands to your cheeks, hoping maybe they’ll cool you down and poor circulation will work in your favor for once. “I know myself. You know me. I like… asking you for things. But for the rest of the week, if I do… you know, want something from you—you have to tell me no.”
Spencer nods slowly. “What if you genuinely change your mind?”
“I won’t. I might think I have, I might even tell you I have, but don’t believe me, okay? I don’t think straight when I’m turned on, and if we do anything, I’ll like it until fucking Jerry is pounding my door down the next day, and I just can’t deal with that.”
Spencer’s face goes completely void of expression to the point that if it weren’t for context clues you’d have no idea he’s probably imagining pistol-whipping the guy.
“Has he knocked on your door?”
Testosterone.
“No. Back to my point. I’m trusting you to keep me in check so I don’t do anything I’ll… I’ll end up regretting. Not that I regret the other night!” You scramble just as Spencer’s brow begins to furrow. “I don’t. I just regret that my gross neighbor had to get involved. And I don’t want that to happen again. So… is that… is that okay? Will you do that for me?”
“Of course I will,” Spencer says gently, without hesitation as he pushes off the counter. “Can I ask a follow-up question?”
You nod and regard the space between you, unsure if you want to eliminate it or keep using it like a buffer. By not coming to you, he’s giving you the choice.
“You said this was mostly because of your neighbor. But you didn’t sound sure. It’s fine if you aren’t feeling ready yet. I just want to make sure I know what’s going on with you.”
“I don’t really know,” you admit, after a brief pause. “I feel like… as long as I know he’s on the other side of the wall I wouldn’t even be able to wrap my head around how I actually feel. It’s also confusing because, like I was saying, I… just because I feel like I want something in the moment, doesn’t necessarily mean I’m actually ready for it, you know? I don’t even know if… I don’t even know what being ready again really means or would look like.”
“You did the other night.”
“Yeah, but that was different. Because now I’m gonna think I know what I’m getting myself into, but that’s not necessarily true.”
Another pause in which you chew your lip and look away.
“I don’t want you to overthink it, honey. I think being ready just means you’re comfortable, and you’re with someone who’s going to keep you safe, and nobody’s pressuring you, and you’re not, you know—pressuring yourself. Wanting it is actually really important, too. But what I’m hearing right now is that even if you might want it, you’re not in a place that feels safe. And that makes sense to me. So we’re just not gonna do anything until that changes, okay?”
Eyes still cast downward, your lips twist into a sardonic little smile.
“I feel like I’m talking to my therapist.”
He laughs with a single breath.
“I really hope your therapist doesn’t speak to you like I do. The ethics there would be highly questionable.”
The joke refreshes your courage and you look back up at him, smile still edged with humor but mostly unspoken gratitude.
The half-smile on Spencer’s face, however, is fading steadily as he studies you in flickering passes. Like there’s something still on his mind. You were hoping for a subtle invitation back into his arms, but the space between you remains—infused now with a tension as it becomes increasingly obvious.
“Also… this trip we’re going on. I feel like I should say this—I don’t know if it was even on your mind, but… I don’t want you to feel pressured to have sex just because of the timing. Me inviting you on a last-minute trip to an isolated cabin—it’s not a master plan to get you to sleep with me again, I promise. I really just wanted us to be alone. Not—not that kind of alone—I mean, we’ll be alone, but it doesn’t have to be like that. I was just thinking about how nice it was for us to get those three nights together, you know, and the whole weekend too, and with my job, that’s not always going to happen, so it just seemed like a good opportunity—”
“Spencer,” you laugh, letting the tension snap like a rubber band as you go to him, slinging your arms over his shoulders, delighted to be the one doing the interrupting and not the flustered rambling, for a change. “I know you don’t have an ulterior motive. As for what kind of alone we’re going to be… we’ll figure that out, okay? Don’t worry about me. I don’t feel pressured by you. I never have. If anything, I’m the one who pressures you for sex.”
You’ve got him smiling once more, as his hands find your waist and his gaze flips from your mouth to your eyes and back again. It goes very subtly mischievous in a way you don’t quite trust, but he’s dipping his head to kiss you, and something tells you it’s going to be a good one, so when your nose bumps against his, and you can feel his breath on your lips, you’re not at all prepared for him to speak.
“Begging is not the same as pressuring, sweet thing,” he murmurs, and then he’s kissing you so thoroughly you don’t even have time to be properly affronted. The offended gasp gets stuck in your throat, and melts into a tiny huff as it turns out the kiss is a very good one. You can’t think hard enough to be offended. Not even when he chuckles against you.
“That’s not fair,” you mumble when he allows you a second to breathe. He hums, satisfying himself with kisses to your cheek and playing along.
“What’s not fair?”
“You… I was supposed to have the upper hand in that situation! You were the nervous one for once!”
Another hum, buzzing against your lips this time.
“You have to learn how to take the upper hand, angel. I’ve had a lot of practice. It’s a big part of my job.”
Admittedly it’s hard to think when he talks like this, but you try.
“So… you manipulate me? That’s not very romantic.”
He laughs quietly again.
“No. I do not manipulate you.”
“You’re just a control freak,” you tease.
“Yeah,” he agrees, immediately, still soft-spoken as he pulls back to carefully search your eyes. “Does that bother you?”
You search hands and knees for a crumb of outrage, for a hint of any of that strong feminist theory you’ve instilled into your brain over so many years.
There’s nothing to be found.
“No,” you admit, dejectedly, hanging your head as much as he’ll allow. “Should it?”
“Only if you don’t like it. When I take the upper hand like that, I’m really just… posing a yes or no question. So far, you lean towards saying yes. You let me win. But you don’t have to.”
“What happens if I… if I don’t let you win?”
He angles his head, coaxing you to look in his eyes once more. A hand comes up to swipe a dot of mascara from under your brow. He’s looking at you so serenely, like none of this is at all complicated.
“Whatever you want. I wouldn’t be the one making the rules anymore.”
Oh.
Oh.
You laugh nervously.
“That’s a lot of pressure. What if… I want you to keep making the rules? For forever?”
He kisses you again, insistently enough you have to tilt your head back. When he answers, it’s low, a promise, and pressed right against your waiting mouth.
“Then I will.”
You loose a tremulous breath from your parted lips and you know he can feel it. He can feel how you’re clinging to his shirt, pressing yourself closer, how your skin has warmed and your breaths have hastened, he can probably taste how much you want him, how you’re already thinking about giving it all up for him—
And maybe that’s why he laughs dryly into your mouth before pulling away.
Because he’s a good boyfriend.
Spencer knits his brow and clears his throat as his hand slides down your arm, eyes narrowed like he’s wondering how things escalated so quickly. You certainly are.
Suddenly he’s back to the nerd you met in a coffee shop all those months ago, and you like him like this, too. “So… dinner?”
“Mhm. Yeah. We should… we should definitely eat. What do you wanna eat?”
You don’t miss the quick once over he gives you. Or the way his throat bobs once he tears his eyes away.
“Um… how does Indian sound?”
You swear you don’t know how it happened.
Everything was going fine—there was food on the coffee table, a show on the TV. Spencer made tea. It was wholesome.
And then, somewhere between setting the plastic takeout bag down and actually opening it, you ended up like this. Kneeling next to him on the couch, one hand braced on his thigh, the other tangled in his hair as you kiss slow. Like this could actually be leading somewhere.
“We should stop,” he reminds you, even as his hand traverses up your leg. You lean further into him—he has to tip his head back to meet your lips.
“We’re kissing. It’s nothing.”
“You were—” kiss. “Just telling me—” kiss. “That you don’t want this right now.”
Deep kiss. The grip he has on your hip does not agree with his words.
“This is just kissing. Kissing isn’t sex.”
Even as you’re saying it, you’re throwing your leg over his lap, landing in a straddle.
“No,” he groans as if pained, throwing his head onto the back of the couch and depriving you of his mouth. “Baby. You have to get off. We can’t do this.”
“My bathroom—we could—it doesn’t share a wall with his apartment, we could go in there and turn on the shower and we could be really quiet—”
Suddenly there’s a hand over your mouth. It’s not yours.
“Please stop before I say yes.”
You pull his hand away, fingers wrapped around his wrist.
“You should. You should say yes. It’s a good idea, I know he wouldn’t be able to hear us over the shower—”
“It’s not about that. It’s about the fact that you asked me to turn you down not even an hour ago, no matter what you say, and I said I would.” He takes a shuddering deep breath. “And… I’m going to. I’m saying no.”
“No,” you whine, head falling to his shoulder, because you know he’ll keep his promise. He cups the back of your head—a kind, sympathetic gesture, which does nothing to alleviate the heat of your blood or the ache between your legs. You pout into his neck. “This is terrible. I might not survive.”
“I think you will.”
“Maybe if I enter a coma.”
He laughs and strokes your thigh.
“There are worse things than sexual frustration.”
“Not right now. This is the worst thing I can imagine.”
“I’m so sorry. You poor thing.”
You pull back to face him, hands on his shoulders.
“Oh my god. Don’t act like it’s not bothering you.”
“I’m not bothered.”
“I know that’s not true. You know how I can tell?”
The slightest adjustment of your hips draws attention to exactly what you mean. Spencer goes completely deadpan.
“Stop,” he orders in monotone, and you laugh even you allow yourself to be tossed back onto the couch because you’ve successfully flustered him again. He puts a throw pillow over his lap and leans forward, hiding his blush beneath perfect hands with a tortured groan. “You’re terrible.”
The couch attempts to suck you in as you wriggle back from a lying position, propping yourself up on your elbows and grinning at him.
“I did it,” you gloat.
He angles his head toward you, revealing half a pretty face, still dusted red but now with all the markings of inquisition.
“You did what?”
“I took the upper hand.”
Those dark eyes narrow and before you can think to retract your legs he’s wrapping his hands around your ankles, pulling them over his pillow and leaving you flat on your back once more. Again you giggle.
“You took nothing,” he asserts, but you’re not bothered—still smiling as you accept your new position and toss your arms above your head casually.
“Somebody’s a sore loser.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Eat your curry.”
“Sorry, I’m full. From, you know, the taste of victory.”
He exhales a dry chuckle, leaning forward to finally retrieve the containers of food.
“I can’t believe I ever let you call me a nerd.”
The rest of the evening remains PG. Conversation flows and trickles comfortably over dinner on the couch, and afterwards, he suggests a documentary. From the outside, it might not look like much—but to you, with your head on his chest as the TV casts its flickering, ghostly light over the room, with the beating of his heart against your ear and his breath against the top of your head, it’s everything. Six months ago you didn’t know what it was to exist so comfortably around another person like this. Now, though he feels familiar and safe, you don’t take it for granted. The novelty of something so simple is not lost on you, and you feel like the luckiest girl in the world as your eyes begin to flutter. You’re lucky to have someone you feel completely safe with.
Spencer murmurs your name like a question. It buzzes against your ear. You hum in response.
His thumb fans lines over your shoulder blade. “Can I ask you about something?”
“Mhm.”
“The other night… we didn’t really get a chance to—to debrief, afterwards. Which is fine, you were tired, it was late. But then the next morning I had to go, and everything with your neighbor happened, and we talked about that a little bit, but… but earlier, it sounded like maybe you… I don’t know. Maybe you weren’t feeling good about how it happened?”
“Spencer, I told you I don’t regret it,” you remind him, pushing up from his chest to look him in the eye. His hand slides down your back.
“I know… I just wanted to give you another chance to talk about it. In case anything was on your mind.” He frets over your hair, an invisible speck on your skin. Like he’s nervous. “And I want to make sure you’re feeling okay about how it went. I know what happened the next day was an unfortunate addendum, and I’m sorry about that. As soon as you give me permission, I will have him arrested. But I don’t want that to overshadow your experience.”
“It’s… not,” you breathe, fiddling with a button on Spencer’s shirt.
“So how did you feel about it? Barring anything external?”
“Good.”
Spencer strokes your jaw with a knuckle, gently admonishing.
“Don’t just say that. Think about it.”
“I have,” you assure him immediately, cheeks warming as you realize just how swiftly you’d replied.
What a lovely button. Mother-of-pearl. The shirt is a pale lilac. It looks good on him. One of your favorites, actually.
Spencer lets you pick at it. He would probably let you pull the button off, tear every stitch on the shirt with a seam-ripper if it helped to soothe your nerves.
“I’m not trying to embarrass you, or make you uncomfortable. We don’t have to go into explicit detail. I know it still feels weird to talk about. But it’s something we do have to talk about.”
“I know. And I would bring it up if something didn’t feel right. But it… was…” you chew your lip as you think of a way to phrase it that doesn’t sound too mushy-gushy. “Overwhelmingly… a very positive experience.”
“You sound like Yelp review,” Spencer says through a smile. You attempt to smother the continual heat of your embarrassment against his shirt. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, more intimately than anyone ever has before. And you’re still shy about acknowledging that fact.
“Shut up. Say something nice back.”
With a typically gentle hand, he pushes hair away from your ear.
“I…” he begins meaningfully, taking a moment to sweep your hair over your back. “Feel incredibly grateful that you trusted me to take care of you. I know that’s big for you, and I know it can be a really scary thing. Mostly I’m happy you’re happy. And that I didn’t mess up irredeemably.”
“What would you have messed up?” You laugh, retreating from your shelter against his chest to knit your brow.
He makes a face in the half-dark like he shouldn’t have said it.
“Uh… that… veers into explicit detail… and possibly too much honesty.”
You laugh again and adjust to frame his sheepish smile between your hands.
“I see. You have to keep your mystique in tact.”
“I really don’t think it’s that much of a mystery.”
“Well, I’ll spare your ego.”
“Wow, thanks. For the first time in your life.”
You go in for a chaste, smiley kiss, which stays sweet and kind even as it melts into something stickier.
It comes to a turning point and Spencer inhales deeply, gently angling his head away and shifting to check his watch. You collapse on his chest, catching your breath.
“I should go.”
“No. I feel like you’re going away to war.”
“I’m going to Court House. Where I live.”
“What if I never see you again?”
“It’s twenty minutes away. So you could always just drive.”
You frown.
“I hope you get trench foot.”
“You know seventy seven thousand soldiers died from trench foot in World War Two?”
“Obviously I did not know that.”
“Well, next time you should just say you want me to die. Up.”
He pats the back of your thigh and you push off of him, only after considering trying to hold him hostage for a split second.
You hover by the couch like a ghost, watching with increasing anxiety as he gathers together the empty containers from your meal and throws them in the kitchen garbage before collecting his things.
There is one thing—one potentially difficult thing you haven’t mentioned to him that seems to be a direct consequence of finally sleeping together.
You’re clingy.
Clingier than you’ve ever been. It didn’t seem possible to want to be around him more than you already had, but now when he’s gone you feel his absence like a vacuous hole by your side. Without his warmth, you’re always a little colder. A little less comfortable.
It’s embarrassing to admit that you’re starting to get separation anxiety, so you won’t put it into so many words—but you think, as he turns, slinging his bag over his shoulder with a knowing look, that he understands.
At the same time, you begin to close the space, meeting gently in the middle, toe to toe. You keep your hands behind your back, afraid that otherwise you’ll try and glom onto him like a barnacle on a ship’s hull.
“There are some things I’d like to get done this week so I don’t have to worry about them during our trip. So I might not see you for a day or two.”
Dutifully you nod, though you’re slightly crushed.
“That’s okay. We’re grownups.”
“I don’t know,” he tuts. “I’m worried I’m gonna start writing my name with your last on all my notebooks.”
That stupid, stupid charm.
“Mm… I’m kinda out of your league,” you grin.
Spencer’s smile wanes slowly, but his eyes remain soft and aglow as they explore your face as reverently as his hands would. When he speaks, it’s in an honest, borderline whisper. “I’m acutely aware.”
Slowly his head dips, and your eyes flutter shut. A sweet, lingering kiss lands on your cheek. Then he’s pulling back.
“That’s it?” You can’t help but ask, peering up at him and barely concealing a frown.
He smiles that lovely smile, but by this point you’re attuned enough to his facial expressions to recognize the subtle heat playing just beneath the surface of those golden-oak eyes.
“What? Did I give you the impression that I put out?”
“It’s just a kiss.”
That teasing edge becomes ever so slightly sharper as he regards you, head tilting.
“Mhm. And the last time you said that—was it before or after you mounted me?”
You shoo him away pretty quickly after that—partly for discipline, and partly because the sooner he’s gone, the sooner you’ll go to sleep, and the sooner it will be tomorrow.
And this trip can’t come soon enough, because you’re pretty sure you know exactly what kind of alone you’d like to be with Spencer Reid.
besides spencer reid, is there another fictional character that you like or a character that you would write fanfics?
sorry if i ask too much.
Actually I love questions so thanks for asking <3
Well, currently I only like three fictional characters.
✧ Spencer Reid (He has been my favorite for two years in a row)
✧ Stefan Salvatore (The Vampire Diaries)
✧ Jim Halpert (The Office)
I love them so much, but Spencer Reid is something else. Besides I think he's the one I know better (maybe because I've already seen Criminal Minds three times and counting), so maybe that's one of the reasons I only write fanfics about him and I don't plan writing about anyone else (yet).
gummygunk
areudirty
pixelskylines
kaledo-art
dededos
