What the video doesn’t quite capture is that when you’re this close, their drumming feels kind of like being punched in the chest. When they’re playing on the street like this, every other busker in a 500m radius just goes and has a tea break, because there’s no point in trying to be heard over Clanadonia.
the day after tomorrow, is yours and spencer’s four-year anniversary. the realization makes you reminisce; prior to dating, you always knew who he was—the cute smart boy who’s a year younger than you, but was already graduating with a handful of doctorates come spring.
you think about how you both went through an awkward more-than-friends-but-not-dating phase that lasted a little over a year, but ended the day he completed his fbi training—when you forced him to celebrate with you and he confessed with a flush on his cheeks, from alcohol or pure nervousness, you’re not sure, but that night, he told you he’d like to stay by your side.
from then, it was a dream. three and three fourths of a year that you should’ve known was too good to be true.
because your four-year anniversary was tomorrow, but for the past month and a half, you and spencer have been avoiding each other as if life depended on it.
you’re not proud of it, spencer definitely isn’t either. but you’re both people who are afraid and extremely unsure of the next step you’re both meant to take.
your friends say break up, you don’t even know if his friends know you exist.
but you decide to make it tomorrow’s problem, because tonight, you’re going to dinner with your best friend.
and you’re going to enjoy it.
that was the mindset you had coming into the restaurant, obviously not knowing that spencer and his team were planning to enjoy their evening there too.
“do i look at him?” you whisper, panicking to your best friend, “am i even allowed to look at him?”
“that fact you’re asking that question is, yet again, another reason to leave him.” she says matter-of-factly. “but that girl sitting beside him is the hottest eye candy i’ve seen. ever—don’t worry, i think she’s into girls.”
“i wasn’t—”
“yes, you were jealous. don’t even.”
you can’t even argue back because the host announces your table is ready, and you both trail behind them. you manage a glance at spencer, meeting his gaze.
you manage a smile, a little wobbly and unsure, and he reciprocates with an awkward little grin with raised eyebrows.
the host seats you a few tables away from him. close enough to the point where it’s kind of awkward, but far enough that he can’t hear any conversation.
you decide to sit with your back facing him.
the next morning, you wake up to a text.
spencer<3: I have a case in New York. I’ll see you in a few days.
a mixture of relief and uneasiness pool in your stomach, but you’re glad the apartment will be empty for a while—tension won’t be so high and you’d probably be able to sleep a well-missed eight hours.
but a part of you knows you’re growing farther and farther apart, simply watching as the love of your life slips through your fingers—
you: okay. take care
you: i love you
it’s bittersweet and you swear your chest has never hurt this much, but it’s oddly freeing and you can’t find the energy to be disappointed anymore.
you spend the day alone—questionable because it’s officially been four years since you’ve been with spencer, but he’s in another state and your overtime paycheque is all too tempting.
bypassing shopping guilt has never felt so easy.
the day passes by in a blur, the usual emptiness of the passenger seat now was filled with “useless” knickknacks and things that were well overdue.
new work pants and little trinkets, a cute lamp and your favourite candle.
aimlessly, you drive around the city. going home doesn’t feel right anymore, but sleeping in a motel or at a friend’s feels even worse.
your fingers tap against the wheel, waiting for the lights to turn green. pedestrians pass by and the downtown signs flicker obnoxiously.
you miss spencer.
you always miss him.
days used to feel too short when he’s around and you wished nights would last forever.
popcorn and late night tv reruns of shitty shows you both love to criticize, strolls around the neighbourhood that always ended in a kiss under the lamppost in front of your apartment—once or twice, you’ve even had him in checkmate (he says it was foul-play, you’d say a win is a win).
you wonder what life would be like without him.
you wonder what it would be like—falling in love with somebody else.
as you open the door to your apartment, a chilling breeze gnaws at your cheeks, your eyes spotting the familiar pair of beat up converse throw askew on the floor.
chest constricting, a sigh strains from your lips as you step in, quietly closing the door.
“eventful day?” you hear. in response you nod, forcing a smile.
“you’re back way early. to what do i owe the pleasure?” you turn, bracing yourself for the image of no one other than your boyfriend of officially four years.
he grins, tense, and his eyes stay on the floor. he plays with his hands and he sighs, “i-i didn’t get on the plane.”
“you..” eyebrows raised, you set your stuff down, “what do you mean? you—you didn’t get on the plane? you were here? this whole time?”
“i’m really sorry.” he begins, hands flying in sync with his ramblings, “i-i know that doesn’t make up for anything, but i saw how that waiter from the other night was looking at you and i remembered that we haven’t had a proper conversation in at least a month, and i got worried about the state our relationship has come to and—”
“spencer, my love,” you breathe, “slow down.”
“i realized that keeping you a secret, which started from wanting to keep you safe due to my line of work, has caused more harm than good.” he summarizes, “i realized that the waiter from the restaurant has a very normal job and from his body language, i could tell he was interested in—”
“spence, you profiled a waiter?”
“i observed.” he looks down at his hands that are now situated in his lap. “i did get jealous. he’d be able to show you off without putting you on some psychopath’s hit list, although—”
he stops when he makes eye contact with you.
you’re amused, clearly. and spencer’s lips press into a thin line.
“you’re laughing at me.”
you deny his accusation with a shake of your head, despite the curl of your lips telling a different story.
“i think it’s funny that we went so long without talking to each other, only to brought together by a waiter—”
“not a waiter,” he interrupts and you quirk a brow.
“so jealously then?”
he’s silent. “jealously is powerful motivator, you know.” he stands up just to hold your hand, pulling you to sit with him, “but truly, i didn’t want to miss our anniversary. i know we haven’t talked properly—”
you shake your head, “we can talk about it all later,” you whisper, hands holding his as if he’ll disappear. “i’m so happy you’re here right now.”
spencer leans in, brushing his nose against yours before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “not as happy as i am.”
you kiss him, a little deeper this time to make sure that he’s really here. “and for the record,” you say, watching his lips twitch into a smile, “i’d never want to be with a waiter. i kind of have a thing for fbi agents.”
he laughs, a little bashful and his ears turn pink. “i’ll keep that in mind.”
Ship: GN!BAU!Reader x Spencer Reid
Warnings: Drinking (coffee, not alcohol!) and brief mention of food.
Word count: 3k
Summary: Spencer hates iced coffee. Or does he?
A/N: This one was submitted to the suggestion sheet by my sweet wife @ssa-m-187 so full credit to her and her love of iced coffee for inspiring this. It’s a little shorter than usual, and really just some fluffy little domestic insights. Please let me know what you think! :)
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NOTE: apparently the tagslist didn’t work for this one for some people, so I re-did in the entire tagslist. Apologies if you got notified for this twice, I wasn’t sure who it had/hadn’t worked for!
Part of the A-Z of Spencer Reid series, but works as a stand-alone!
Fun fact: the first line that came to me in my mind, in fact the one that inspired me to write this whole series, is in this fic. i bolded it :)
yes i chose to write an entire 26 part series around a singular line of dialogue that popped into my head at 2am.
Warnings: Discussion of animals as predators (?), mentions of food, some mention of anthrax (in passing/jest).
Word count: 4.6k (this got … a little long, i am very sorry. in my defence there is a bonus scene at the end that i didn’t know would happen until i started writing, oops).
Summary: You and Spencer finally make your first date!
A/N: Please let me know what you think! I’m very worried this might be too much dialogue/might not live up to expectations sooo feedback is always appreciated!
Part 6 of the A-Z of Spencer Reid series, but can be read as a stand-alone.
Summary: You’re about to see Spencer for the first time since you kissed, after you offer to drive him to work. And is there a special occasion you’ve forgotten about?
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of serial killers.
A/N: This is the shortest one of the bunch so far but I hope you like it! As always, please let me know what you think :)
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