spencer x reader who r both Superrr nervous in public and afraid of pda/getting embarrassed when getting referred to a couple in public , just fluff and idiots in love #cuteness
hii, thank you for requesting!! hope you like it <3
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Spencer and you had always been a little shy about your relationship, preferring the quiet corners of your favorite café or the solitude of your cozy living room to the bustling, judgmental eyes of the outside world. Public displays of affection were simply not your style—each touch, each glance felt like a delicate secret best kept between the two of you.
One Saturday afternoon, you both decided to brave the outside world and visit a local market. The vibrant stalls were full of colorful fruits and flowers, and the air was filled with the buzz of weekend shoppers. You clung to Spencer's arm, each of you feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness about being so openly affectionate in public.
As you walked together, Spencer’s hand brushed yours, and you both froze, pretending to be very interested in the produce display in front of you. A vendor, noticing your hesitant but sweet interaction, couldn’t help but comment.
“You two make such a lovely couple,” the vendor said with a warm smile, clearly aiming to make you feel good.
You felt your cheeks turn a bright shade of red. Spencer’s face mirrored yours, his ears turning pink as he tried to muster a smile. “Oh, um, thank you,” Spencer stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
You squeezed his arm, trying to offer him some silent support. “Yeah, we, uh, we really like peaches,” you said, trying to divert the attention away from your growing embarrassment.
The vendor chuckled and nodded, clearly seeing through your attempt to change the subject but appreciating the endearing awkwardness. “Well, you two enjoy the peaches,” he said before moving on to other customers.
As soon as the vendor was out of earshot, Spencer let out a relieved sigh. “I didn’t expect that,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m not great with compliments, especially in public.”
You nodded in agreement, a small smile forming on your lips. “Me neither. I always feel like everyone’s watching us, even if they’re not.”
Spencer looked at you, his gaze softening. “But I guess… if we’re a couple, that means we’re a team. Even if we get a bit embarrassed, at least we’re together.”
You smiled, feeling your nerves ease at his reassuring words. “Yeah, together. And I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”
As you both continued to navigate the market, you found comfort in the small, shared glances and the gentle touches that felt less daunting now. Every awkward moment only seemed to make your bond stronger, and despite the occasional blush and stammer, you both knew that your love was something worth celebrating—publicly or privately.
And as you left the market with a bag full of peaches and a heart full of affection, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, public displays of nervousness were part of the charm of being in love.
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likes and reblogs are always appreciated! my inbox is always open, too. <3
just saw a spencer edit and the caption was “i think he’d dream of being a father, but he’d be too afraid to be like his own.” gonna cry for thirty minutes rn
in which derek kisses you for the first time and you say ‘thank you’
warnings: none, tooth rotting fluff 🫶🏻
note!: inspired by gilmore girls!!
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You run through the raining street, giggles escaping your lips at the circumstances. Derek has his coat over the both of you, trying to protect you from getting wet as you speed to your house. Your hand clutches him arm to make sure he's going on the right way.
You feel giddy, it's your fourth date and you wonder if it can get any better than this. It feels well deserved after months of pining and flirting. Or better, him flirting with you endlessly while you fluster every single time.
Now that there's actually something going on between you, he takes things more gently and your heart warms at him being overly respectful with you. Small gestures as holding your hand whenever you're walking side by side, always taking the side closest to the road when you're on a side walk and insisting to pay the bill at every chance he gets.
Once you reach the porch, your breathing is uneven - the giggling mess not helping much on it. Derek throws the jacket over your shoulders, rubbing your arms up and down to warm you up.
"You okay?" He asks, way less affected by the running than you. Damn him and always being in shape.
"Yeah- yeah, i'm okay." You breath out, pulling the coat tighter around yourself. You find yourself hoping he forgets to take it back so you can have it for a little longer.
"Cosy?" He teases with a smile. Warmth spreads across your chest and neck, feeling suddenly embarrassed that he noticed your attention for his coat.
"Mhm. You sure you don't wanna come in?" You look at the raining pouring and the way the sky is starting to get dark. The idea of him going back there doesn't please you at all.
"Yeah, don't worry about me, sweetheart. Get yourself warm, don't want you catching a cold." He takes a step closer, wiping a droplet of water from your cheek.
You all but manage to nod before saying, "See you tomorrow?" You know you will, you work together. But you can barely think when he's standing so close.
"See you tomorrow." Derek confirms, not bothering to tease you about it and you feel grateful for it. You wait for him to make a move to leave, not daring to do it before him.
But instead, he moves even closer. His hands cup your face gently, giving you time to pull away. When you don't, he leans in to connect your lips with his in a gentle kiss. You heart races, hands coming up to rest on his chest as your mouth moves against his.
Before it can get any further, he slowly pulls away. Leaving a small peck on your lips before letting go of your face.
"Thank you." You practically squeak out, heat covering your cheeks.
Derek smiles slightly confused and without thinking you rush out a 'bye' before unlocking the door and slamming it shut behind you.
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"He kissed you and you said 'thank you'?" Penelope asks.
"Yes! I'm so embarrassed, i can't believe i did that." You sigh exasperatedly, face falling to your hands. You've been thinking about what you're going to do when you see him all morning. You made sure to tell Pen to arrive earlier so you could seek for her help.
"Well that was very polite." She smiles, trying to lighten the mood.
"No, it was stupid." You pull your head up only to drop it on her shoulder right after. "He's gonna start thinking i'm so weird." You know that's probably too dramatic, but the insecurity is eating you up.
"Oh, angel. He's head over heels for you, i don't think he'd ever find you weird." She rubs your back in a comforting manner.
Once you get yourself together, you thank her quickly before heading to the kitchenette for some coffee. Maybe that will lighten your mood.
Too engrossed in choosing between oat or regular milk, you don't notice Derek approach you. His hands touch your waist and you jump almost immediately. Mug almost flying off your hand if it wasn't for him reaching to steady your hand.
"Didn't mean to spook you, angel." He turns you to face him, your back against the counter as he stands close to you.
"Hi. S'okay." You mumble shily, grateful that he seems to act as if nothing happened.
"Hi." Derek's voice sounds gentle, looking around to make sure there's no one around before saying, "Do i get a good morning kiss?"
You grow hot but can't help but feel tempted, making note to not embarrass yourself again. With a small nod, you lay one hand on his arm to steady yourself and press a small kiss to his lips. His lips chase yours once you pull away, leaving a slightly longer kiss on them.
"Thank you." Derek says, a smile spreading across his lips.
"Derek!" You gasp embarrassed, hands covering your face. You were foolish enough to think he hadn't noticed.
"Sorry, sorry." He chuckles amusingly, pulling your hands away from your face and kissing both of them.
"You're mean." You mumble with a pout that makes him think this is even more endearing.
"You're adorable." He retorts, making all the anxieties you had earlier disappear. He pulls you in a hug, squeezing you tightly before kissing your temple reassuringly.
"Let me help you make that coffee." He adds. You're just grateful that he's him after all.
summary; While redecorating your apartment, you accidentally hurt yourself, and your ex-boyfriend is your emergency contact.
warnings; mentions of broken arm and hospitals (hate them) reader and spencer still have feelings for each other
word count: 833 words
likes and reblogs are always appreciated! my inbox is always open, too.
The apartment was a whirlwind of half-finished projects and scattered paint supplies. You had started redecorating as a distraction, but now, amidst the chaos, the process had become overwhelming. The old chair you were moving had seen better days, and as you shifted it, its leg gave way beneath you. You tumbled to the floor, the sharp jolt sending a wave of pain through your arm.
Wincing and struggling to assess the damage, you fumbled for your phone. Spencer Reid was still listed as your emergency contact. You hadn’t spoken in months, not since the breakup, when life had simply become too messy and your relationship too strained. It was mutual, a decision made out of necessity rather than a lack of affection. Still, the thought of calling him now, after all this time, filled you with a mix of relief and embarrassment.
You hesitated before dialing his number, the pain making it hard to focus.
When he answered, his voice was a mix of groggy confusion and concern. “Hello?”
“Spencer… I’m hurt,” you managed, your voice trembling. “I need you.”
“Where are you? What happened?” His concern was immediate, sharp and clear.
“I’m at home… I… I broke a chair and… my arm… I don’t know what to do,” you said, tears escaping as you tried to stifle your sobs.
“Hold on. I’m coming over,” he said, his tone shifting to urgent.
You put down the phone, feeling a wave of embarrassment. You were almost thirty years old, sitting on the floor of your disorganized apartment, crying over a broken chair. It felt so trivial, and you were mortified at the thought of Spencer seeing you like this. It only added to your distress.
When the knock finally came, you almost wished it wouldn’t. Spencer’s familiar voice, laced with concern, called out from the other side of the door. “It’s me. I’m coming in.”
You struggled to your feet, but the pain was too intense. You managed to open the door, and Spencer stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the mess and landing on you. His eyes softened with worry as he took in your tear-streaked face and the broken chair lying beside you.
“Oh my God,” he breathed, rushing to your side. He knelt down, his hands gently touching your arm. “What happened?”
You could barely meet his eyes, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. “I… I fell off the chair and broke my arm. I’m sorry for calling you. It’s just… I didn’t know who else to turn to.”
Spencer’s face was a mask of concern, not judgment. “It’s okay. We need to get you to the hospital.”
“No, please,” you pleaded, “I’m really scared of hospitals.”
He took a deep breath, his eyes softening with empathy. “I know you are. But we need to make sure you’re okay. I’ll be with you the whole time. You don’t have to be afraid.”
With gentle hands, Spencer helped you up, guiding you to his car. His presence was a soothing balm to your frayed nerves, a comforting reminder of the connection you still felt despite the distance and the reasons for your breakup. The drive to the hospital was quiet, but his hand was warm and steady over yours, and he spoke in a soft, reassuring tone to keep you calm.
In the hospital, he stayed by your side through the check-in process, talking to you gently to distract you from the clinical coldness of the environment. When the doctors came in, examining and setting your arm, Spencer was your anchor, his voice a constant comfort as you navigated the frightening experience.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling tears well up as the pain intensified.
Spencer shook his head, his gaze steady and kind. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m just glad I could be here for you. We might have ended things, but that doesn’t mean I stopped caring.”
You looked at him, seeing the depth of his feelings in his eyes. Despite everything, it was clear that there was still a strong bond between you. As you both left the hospital and drove back, Spencer’s presence made you feel better about the whole situation.
“You can stay the night at my place if you want,” Spencer offered, his tone gentle and sincere.
You nodded, a mix of gratitude and emotion welling up inside you.
As you two entered his apartment, he helped you settle on the couch, ensuring you were comfortable and had everything you needed. His care and kindness were a balm to your wounded spirit.
“Thank you, Spencer, for everything.”
He gave you a reassuring smile, settling beside you. “Anytime. I’m just glad you called.”
As you sat there, surrounded by his books, you felt a profound sense of comfort. Despite the pain and embarrassment, there was solace in knowing that some bonds could still be mended, even when life had taken you in different directions.
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
genre: slight angst but mostly fluff
tags: mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, confessions, sharing a hotel room, early seasons spence <3
word count: 1.2k
song rec: pancakes for dinner by lizzy mcalpine
a/n: so excited about this fic hehe. i would LOVE to know what u guys think!!!!!
“I don’t know what to do, Pen,” you groan.
You’re in her office, head in your hands as you confide to her about your massive crush on Spencer. It’s something you’ve kept for a secret until now, the need to tell someone having grown too strong. The tech analyst doesn’t seem the least bit surprised—in fact, you might almost say that she’s giddy with excitement at your revelation. She rubs your back in soothing circles.
“Why don’t you just tell him, my love?”
You shake your head, stomach twisting at her suggestion. “I can’t. What if he doesn’t feel the same? Besides, I don’t want to make things weird between us,” you say.
Penelope lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Have you really not seen the way our resident genius looks at you?”
“What are you talking about?” you ask, furrowing your brows. You can’t think of any time where Spencer has looked at you in the way that she’s describing.
“Oh my god. You two might be the most oblivious people I’ve ever met.”
You frown. “Hey! That’s not—”
“Guys. We have a case,” JJ pokes her head through the doorway, a sympathetic smile curving her lips.
“Guess I should go,” you say.
Penelope nods. “Go get him, tiger,” she grins, shoving at your shoulder playfully.
A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth despite the way you roll your eyes at her antics. You leave her office and make your way towards the round table room. As you strode through the bullpen, you bump into none other than Spencer, who offers you his signature close-lipped smile that makes butterflies explode in your stomach.
“Hey. What were you talking to Garcia about?” he asks just as you reach the round table room.
Your eyes widen. “Nothing!” you blurt, cheeks hot. “Just, um, what our plans are for the weekend.”
Spencer raises his eyebrows, gaze calculating as he looks at you for a moment. “Are you okay?”
“Fine, Spence,” you mumble, sitting down in your usual spot next to him.
While the team briefs the case, you can’t help but let your mind wander back to your conversation with Penelope. Was she right? Should you just get over yourself and tell Spencer how you feel?
You don’t realize someone is saying your name until you feel a light kick to your shin, making you jump. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly.
Hotch sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “All right. We need to get there by tonight. Wheels up in twenty.”
You grimace, realizing you missed the whole briefing as you stand up along with the rest of the team. “Hey, Spence?”
“I can go over the details with you on the jet,” he says.
You let out a sigh of relief. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Spencer smiles cheekily. “I know. What would you do if I wasn’t here?”
“Probably make a fool of myself,” you laugh softly. “See you on the jet?”
He nods, a twinkle of amusement still sparkling in his eyes.
Around twenty minutes later, you’re sitting in your usual spot on the jet across from Spencer, both of your heads bent forward as he tells you about the case. Once he finishes going over everything with you, you lean back in your seat, a small sigh leaving your lips. Spencer frowns.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks softly. “You haven’t been acting like yourself.”
You curse internally at the fact that he knows you so well, like you’re an open book just waiting for him to read at 20,000 words per minute. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About the case?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh, shoulders deflating.
Spencer’s eyebrows pinch together, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” you nod, heart twisting at the soft tone he uses. “I just… Can’t right now.”
“I’ll be here when you’re ready to share with me, okay? If you want to. If you don’t, that’s okay too,” he says, giving you a small smile.
Warmth bubbles in your chest. “Thanks, Spence.”
It’s close to midnight when the jet lands a few hours later, and you and the rest of the team head straight to the hotel to get a good night’s sleep before the chaos starts tomorrow. Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach when you’re informed by Hotch that you’ll be rooming with Spencer, due to the fact that there aren’t enough rooms for all of you.
“Sorry you got stuck with me,” Spencer says, and—are his cheeks pink, or is that just a trick of the light?
You shake your head. “Don’t be sorry. I like rooming with you, Spence.”
“Oh,” he smiles.
The two of you make your way from the lobby and into your room, the door shutting with a soft click behind you. Your heart pounds at the thought of being alone with him. Sure, you’ve roomed with him before, but now it’s different after Penelope told you that there’s a chance he could like you back.
“You can—”
“I know it’s—”
You both let out awkward laughs.
“You go first,” Spencer says.
“Okay,” you nod, taking a deep breath. “I know it’s late, and… we should probably get ready for bed, but—do you think we could talk?” you ask, blood rushing to your cheeks.
“Yeah, of course. Is this about earlier?” he asks softly, placing his go bag on the ground and taking a seat on the bed.
You bite your lip and take a seat next to him. “Yes, but—actually, never mind. Forget I said anything,” you sigh.
For a few moments Spencer doesn’t say anything, and you squirm slightly under his gaze. The next words to come out of his mouth steal the air right out of your lungs. “Do you like me?”
“What?” you splutter.
Spencer scoots closer to you. “I never noticed before, but today—you were acting differently around me. Like I made you nervous.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say weakly.
“You make me nervous, too.”
Your heart stops. “What? Do you—Are you afraid of me?”
A giggle bubbles out of Spencer’s lips. “No! No, I didn’t mean it like that. I really hope I’m not misinterpreting things here, so please stop me if I am, but—what I meant is that I like you.”
You stare at him, unable to process his words. “You… what?”
The softness with which he whispers your name makes you feel dizzy. “I think I’ve had feelings for you from the second you walked into the bullpen on your first day with the BAU.”
“Oh,” you breathe out, your heart starting to beat like the wings of a hummingbird.
Spencer frowns at your lack of a response, starting to back away. “I understand if you don’t feel the same—”
“No!” Your hand shoots out to grasp gently at his wrist, holding him in place. “No, wait, I—I like you too, Spence.”
A smile breaks out onto his face. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod, giggling. “By the way, this morning? I was talking to Garcia about you.”
Spencer’s cheeks turn a dark shade of red, and you decide right then and there that him blushing and flustered is one of the prettiest sights you’ve ever seen.
spencer x reader where she kisses his forehead and he’s 🥹🥹
“Spencer, are you dead?”
Spencer ignores your question by accident. Heavy head in hand, he’s slowly sinking closer and closer to the hotel breakfast table to rest. His neck twinges with the effort it takes to stay up.
“Spencer,” you say more sharply.
His eyes track like the air is honey. He settles on your sluggishly while offering no greeting, tiredness pulling at him. “My eyes hurt,” he offers.
“Make you some tea.”
“Um, okay.” He’s disappointed when you leave, then dozing, face pressed to his desk as itchy eyes press along lids. It feels as though his eyelashes have turned inward.
You return with a cup. Spencer grabs it blindly, lifts his head to squint one eye open. “What?” he asks.
There isn’t tea in the cup. There are tea bags, two of them, wetted and leaking tan beige along the white china of the mug. Distinctly no tea. You must be tired too.
“They’re for your eyes, Spence. They’ll make your eyes hurt less. The caffeine restricts your blood vessels to calm the inflammation, and the tea itself soothes sore skin.”
“How do you know that?” he asks.
You rest a hand on his shoulder. “I read about it in a book of modern home remedies. It really works. Here, can you tip your head back?”
Spencer is very, very tired, but your voice is nice, your fingertips gentle against his neck, so he tips his head back. He doesn’t know how terrible he looks, having forgotten his untucked shirt, his rumpled sweater vest, his hair sticking up all over the place.
“Close your eyes,” you murmur.
Spencer shuts them.
“It’s cold,” you warn, “but it’ll feel nice.”
Spencer doesn’t care. He waits for you to move. The tea bags you place on his closed eyes feel cold and at first they sting just a touch, perhaps tea finding its way through his lashes, and he can’t confess to noticing a difference in soreness.
“Hey… what’s this? It looks like it hurts?” you ask, drawing a short line over the side of the bridge of his nose. There’s an indent there that feels like a bruise.
“I fell asleep at my desk with my glasses on,” he says. “They dug in.”
“You were up late, I’m guessing. Maybe you should go back to the room.”
“No, I can’t. I’ll be okay. Thank you for the… tea.”
Your hand rests tentatively against his cheek. He can’t open his eyes to see what you're feeling, and he doesn’t need to. There’s emotion to be felt in your slow strokes, how your thumb rests along his jaw as your nail scratches to the top of his ear, then behind the shell of it. It’s intimate enough to summon a different kind of tiredness. Exhaustion swapped for content. He could sleep in the curve of your palm all day.
“You’re welcome,” you say. “I’m gonna take them off for a second to check the damage.”
You take them. Your breath draws near.
A warmth presses to his forehead atop his left eyebrow. Spencer doesn’t know what it is until your nose graces just above it, and your lips part —it’s a kiss. You’re kissing him sweetly, your fingers sewing through his hair.
He peels his sore eyes open to look at you. You lean back as unhurried as you’d ferried forward, your hand cradling the nape of his neck.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask.
Spencer stares up at you. In that moment, tired, aching, and balmed, he’s completely in love with you. You must see a little of it, your lips parting again in an unnamed emotion. It’s sheer luck that you’re the only one awake with him, because if any of his teammates saw the way he was looking at you they’d never let him forget it. And, he gets to see your reaction. Your partial smile.
“Did that help?” you ask.
You must mean the tea. “I feel better.”
“Yeah? Do you…” Your voice turns to cashmere, a thread of bemusement tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Would another one be okay?”
Spencer can only nod as you wrap your arms around him and position your mouth at the soft skin where his hair meets his forehead. When you kiss him again, his eyes flutter shut.
“You really need some help with your insomnia,” you murmur.
Spencer wonders if maybe you’d want to be that help. You must have melatonin in your kisses.
you and spencer are reading, but you find yourself unable to focus on your book because he’s too distracting.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
genre: fluff
tags: reader is so me bc if i was anywhere near spencer while he was reading, i would not be able to take my eyes off of him bc he’s just so prettyyyyy
word count: 265
“I can feel you staring at me.”
“I’m not!” you splutter, your cheeks hot as you snap your gaze back to your book.
Spencer scoffs lightly. “You totally were! I just can’t figure out why.”
“Can we drop this, please?” you groan.
He shakes his head. “Was it because there’s something on my face?” he asks with a frown.
“No, Spence, there’s nothing on your face. How about we get back to reading—”
“Why won’t you tell me?”
You sigh. “Because it’s embarrassing,” you mumble.
“I promise I won’t laugh,” he says.
You narrow your eyes at him, your mind at war with itself before finally deciding to trust that he won’t break his promise. “It was because you’re distracting,” you pout.
He breaks out into a small giggle. “You think I’m distracting?”
“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” you exclaim, shoving his shoulder lightly.
“Sorry, I just… I don’t get how I could be distracting,” he shrugs, furrowing his brows.
You stare at him, mouth falling slightly agape. “You’re not serious, right? You… Everything about you is distracting, but especially when you’re focused on something. The way your eyebrows pinch together, how you lick your lips, tracing your fingers down each page as you read…”
By the time you finish rambling, Spencer’s cheeks are tinged a bright pink. “I didn’t realize you paid so much attention.”
“Of course I do. It’s my job as your girlfriend to notice those kinds of things.”
He smiles. “Your job?” he echoes.
You nod, letting out a small hum. “That’s right.”
Spencer rolls his eyes playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”
summary: When a police officer raises their voice at you, Spencer comes to your defense, but in his attempt to protect you, he accidentally refers to you as his wife.
word count; 435 words ( i expected this to be longer when i wrote it)
likes and reblogs are always appreciated! my inbox is always open, too.
You were absorbed in your work at the police station, surrounded by a clutter of case files and evidence reports. The atmosphere was a cacophony of voices and ringing phones, but you managed to focus on your task.
A loud, gruff cop strolled by, glancing at you with a mix of disdain and impatience. “Hey, can you get that stuff out of the way?” he barked. “We’re trying to get some real work done here.”
You looked up, surprised by his tone. “I’m sorry, I’m just—”
“Just what? This isn’t a personal office!” he interrupted, raising his voice even further.
Before you could respond, your boyfriend, who had been working next to you, noticed the exchange. His face hardened with frustration. He approached quickly, his demeanor shifting from calm to protective.
“Excuse me,” Spencer said, his voice louder than usual. “There’s no need to speak to her like that. She’s here to assist with the case, and she’s doing a critical job.”
The cop, taken aback by Spencer’s sudden assertiveness, tried to brush him off. “And who are you to tell me how to do my job?”
“I’m her partner,” Spencer said, his voice firm. Then, in a moment of heated protectiveness, he blurted out, “My wife and I are trying to do the work your team couldn’t, so how about you show her some respect?”
The cop’s eyes widened in surprise, and after a moment of hesitation, he muttered an apology and walked away, clearly unsettled.
You couldn’t help but grin as you looked up at Spencer. His face was flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering irritation, but there was a soft, endearing quality to his expression.
“Your wife, huh?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
Spencer’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Relax,” you said, chuckling. “I’m just teasing you. But you know, it did make me feel pretty special.”
Spencer cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Well, one day you will be my wife,” he said, a hint of seriousness in his voice.
You laughed, shaking your head. “Please, do not propose to me right now. This is so not romantic.”
Spencer’s eyes widened in mock offense. “How dare you think I would propose like this? You know me better than that.”
You both laughed as he kissed you briefly before you two got back to work, the tension from the earlier confrontation melting away.
As Spencer watched you handle the paperwork, he realized that the conversation had sparked a new thought: it might be time to start looking for engagement rings.
summary: When a police officer raises their voice at you, Spencer comes to your defense, but in his attempt to protect you, he accidentally refers to you as his wife.
word count; 435 words ( i expected this to be longer when i wrote it)
likes and reblogs are always appreciated! my inbox is always open, too.
You were absorbed in your work at the police station, surrounded by a clutter of case files and evidence reports. The atmosphere was a cacophony of voices and ringing phones, but you managed to focus on your task.
A loud, gruff cop strolled by, glancing at you with a mix of disdain and impatience. “Hey, can you get that stuff out of the way?” he barked. “We’re trying to get some real work done here.”
You looked up, surprised by his tone. “I’m sorry, I’m just—”
“Just what? This isn’t a personal office!” he interrupted, raising his voice even further.
Before you could respond, your boyfriend, who had been working next to you, noticed the exchange. His face hardened with frustration. He approached quickly, his demeanor shifting from calm to protective.
“Excuse me,” Spencer said, his voice louder than usual. “There’s no need to speak to her like that. She’s here to assist with the case, and she’s doing a critical job.”
The cop, taken aback by Spencer’s sudden assertiveness, tried to brush him off. “And who are you to tell me how to do my job?”
“I’m her partner,” Spencer said, his voice firm. Then, in a moment of heated protectiveness, he blurted out, “My wife and I are trying to do the work your team couldn’t, so how about you show her some respect?”
The cop’s eyes widened in surprise, and after a moment of hesitation, he muttered an apology and walked away, clearly unsettled.
You couldn’t help but grin as you looked up at Spencer. His face was flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering irritation, but there was a soft, endearing quality to his expression.
“Your wife, huh?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
Spencer’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Relax,” you said, chuckling. “I’m just teasing you. But you know, it did make me feel pretty special.”
Spencer cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Well, one day you will be my wife,” he said, a hint of seriousness in his voice.
You laughed, shaking your head. “Please, do not propose to me right now. This is so not romantic.”
Spencer’s eyes widened in mock offense. “How dare you think I would propose like this? You know me better than that.”
You both laughed as he kissed you briefly before you two got back to work, the tension from the earlier confrontation melting away.
As Spencer watched you handle the paperwork, he realized that the conversation had sparked a new thought: it might be time to start looking for engagement rings.
