୬🪷▩ུ⃨ ❤︎

20 | writer in spare time | 18+ advisory ౨ৎ . ֺ

[winterandwords]

I could fix him. I could make him worse. Good for you. I could gently take the weapon out of his shaking, blood-soaked hand and hold him until he finally believes that he doesn't have to be defined by all the ways the world has hurt him. Then we could ruin the lives of everyone who has ever treated him like he's a monster who doesn't deserve love.

[yourmomxx]

Dean: Go big or go home!

Castiel, with tears in his eyes: I am begging you, Dean. For once in your life, go home. Please. Just this once. Go home.

Dean: I'm going big

[larahatesbeinghere-deactivated2]

GUYS WE DON'T CARE EGOISTIC RICH PLAYBOYS WE CARE NERDY WEIRD BOYS WE LOVE THEM WE NEED THEM WE WANT THEM

[dilfth1rster]

Just Jensen Ackles flopping his big d1ck 😗

[reidsprodigy]

a special gift

spencer reid x fem! reader

summary ;

a gift for the birthday boy!! happy 41 spence <3

warnings ;

smut

You were close, way too close. Clenching, heavy breathes, slowing movements, he knew this as well. “You gonna cum for me?” The soft traces of his lips danced delicately on your skin, peppered kisses wrapped around the neck, you bit your lip, eyes fluttered shut and your toes curled at the feeling that tranced your whole body.

A single gasp was all that you needed to let loose before you were collapsing against Spencer. Chest against chest, face buried into the warm flesh of his neck, you were burning. The churning in the depths of your stomach were ablaze, the last coil snapped and you were on fire. “Fuck! Oh — I’m cumming, I’m cu-“

Nails racked softly in his hair, grabbing onto the locks when small bursts of your orgasm hit. A gasp here and there, you breathed in his sweat in every sharp inhale, damp babyhairs stick to your flushed face, humidity hit you instantly and all you could feel was Spencer’s calloused fingertips feathering on your spine, coaxing you, overstimulating — And you loved every second of this bliss.

A few more mummers slipped from Spencer’s lips before he let go. A slight arch in his back with eyes fluttering shut. A sight to admire.

“Happy Birthday, Spence.”

[firefox-official]

“youre so mean” if you guys werent fucking stupid i wouldnt have to be mean to you. change starts with you

[reidsprodigy]

sweet

spencer reid x fem! reader

summary ;

literally just spencer eating u out 🫣

warnings ;

smut !!!

masterlist

Shallow breaths fanned on your thighs, his mouth close where you needed him the most. A whine of desperation poured from your pouted lips, eyes hazy, lids drooping in lust as you looked down at him with thinning patience. You ached, you ached so much, a fluttering heartbeat growing faster rapidly the more his lips curled up into a smirk, with each thigh on the side of his face, his hair dampened on his forehead, loose curls began to cover his eyes, the sight only made your arousal drip onto his chin and then he was on you.

The lapping of his tongue filled your drums, filthy noises were in the air, the sounds of erotic devouring. Arousal melted onto his tastebuds, licking up from your hole up to the swelling clit. “Fuck!” You gasped, teeth sunk into the bottom of your lip, a stutter in your hips began before Spencer’s dominate hand wrapped around the lower part of your back, pulling you directly on top of him as he hummed into you, a form of vibrations only had you tossing your head back.

“Look at me.” His words were slurred, a slight pull back from your sopping pussy. The second your eyes fluttered open, you were panting and the sight of him only made you ache more. A glistened chin, a small stream of your arousal was going down his chin, daring to drip onto his collar bones. The filthy words that came from his lips were swollen and pink — an action from kissing both of your lips carelessly.

His eyes peered into yours, the color in them were blown out by his pupils, as well as yours were. “Gonna keep your eyes on me, pretty girl?” He murmurs, a teasing flick of his tongue on your clit made your thighs quiver, a whimper flees from your lips before nodding vigorously, wanting the attention back where you needed it most.

“Words.” Another kitten lick.

Dammit.

“Fuck — Yes, okay. I’ll be good, I promise I’ll keep my eyes on you.” The pleads fueled him, a rush of blood flooded to his cock, it twitched in his briefs, rubbing against the cotton — a groan vibrated his throat.

Tip of his tongue, your pulling his hair, latching him back onto your ache; you exhaled, rolling your hips once, twice and whimpering at the graze of his teeth on your clit. Spencer’s fingers kneaded into the flesh of your back, moon crescent marks of his finger nails pierced the skin, you arched at the sensation of pain and pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whispered, keeping lazied eyes on Spencer’s half lidded ones.

You were close, you were so so close, the rubber band in your stomach was stretching as far as it could go, a burning coil started to settle in the pits of your abdomen; you were on fire, intensity washed over your senses — “I’m gonna — Fuck I-“ You let out of high whimper at the stretch of your walls from Spencer’s unoccupied hand, his middle and index finger sunk into your sopping hole, curling at the exact spot you needed to snap the rubber band inside you.

“Oh my — Fuck!” Your clit pulsated, the walls of your pussy fluttered around Spencer’s fingers, the first orgasm of the night hit you out of nowhere, heaving pants were a mixture of thank you’s and moans that flooded out of your lips, Spencer lapped his tongue nonetheless, a few slow strokes of his fingers coaxed out the rest of your orgasm before slipping them out, covered in slick arousal.

When he finally was forced away by your weak hand, your thighs were shaking while he laid underneath your point of view, popping his two fingers in between his glistening lips.

His tongue swirled around them, eyes locked onto yours while you were still catching your breath. He slipped his fingers out of his mouth, the same smirk curling the corner of his lips. “Sweet.”

[reidsprodigy]

ask me out

spencer reid x fem! reader

summary;

three times spencer tried to ask you out and one time he did

warnings;

nothing but fluff!

masterlist

The first time had been after a case. The crescent moon highlighted your slump figure, a yawn threatened to escape your mouth for the second time, you fought the urge of sleep; slapping your cheeks lightly, pinching your arms and storming up your mind with unimportant thoughts that would keep you up for a while longer.

The jet had landed twenty minutes ago, You were the only one who managed to stay up the whole flight back besides Hotch who disappeared into the back room to talk with his wife over the phone.

Your first case went better than you had anticipated, even with the rack of nerves you had endured that morning and during the conference, everything fell into place as the day maneuvered and you felt good about yourself.

When the jet landed, you had rode with Derek and Spencer back to the bureau. Of course, they made you sit in the backseat since they wanted to sit with each other — you didn't complain and happily hopped into the car, sprawling your limbs across the three empty seats.

Derek let out a chuckle as he slid into the passenger seat, Spencer groggily turning on the engine and taking off into the night.

Halfway through, you had fallen asleep, small snores coming from your mouth. Spencer was rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he sipped his third cup of coffee, growing tired of the bitterness from the lack of sugar but it kept him awake. Along with you falling asleep, Derek had gotten some shut-eye too, his posture was sat upwards; shoulders slouched, his head on the window while he breathed heavily through his nose.

The road was slightly bumpy, every once in a while you would almost wake up from the sudden jolts of the car shaking your body. You ignored it the first couple of times, curling your body closer and falling back into unconsciousness, but it slowly had risen frustration inside your body by the fourth time.

Exhaling slowly, you propped your elbows onto the leather seat. The moon left a shimmery glint on the window, reflecting onto the soft skin of yours, there was also a light breeze brushing against your neck as well, it was cold and raised small goosebumps on your arms. Looking upwards, the window behind you had been rolled down by a couple inches — you shivered, pulling the jacket you had on closer to your body while sitting up fully on the car seat.

“Spence?” You mumbled out, eyes still adjusting to the seep of light from the car signals and radio. Spencer flinched slightly by your voice becoming abrupt, yet keeping his half lidded eyes on the road.

“We won’t be there for the next hour.” His voice was scratchy, a lack of hydration from water since he had only been drinking coffee for over an hour of the drive and barely throughout the whole case.

A yawn slipped from your lips, an automatic stretch came along as well. You leaned back, pushing out your chest and stretching for a small moment before going back to your regular posture. “How long was I asleep for?” You asked.

He kept quiet a moment, you saw his eyes through the rear view mirror and could’ve sworn his eyes got softer when they saw yours looking at his. “About an hour and forty-five minutes.”

It went silent after that, both of your arms rested against the back of Spencer and Derek’s seats, while you rested your head on the side of Spencer’s seat. You rolled in and out of consciousness, your eyes becoming heavy and snapping open at the smallest sounds. Spencer had kept his eyes locked on the road, not once did he looked up at the rear view mirror, the corners of your mouth tugged downwards slightly.

Sure, Spencer was cute — okay, he was more than cute, he was very attractive to you. At first you tried to ignore it, especially with it being your first day on the job, but something about him made it so hard to ignore.

You loved the way he spoke. It was like a song, a song that you would have on loop everyday of the week; with the words stitched into your head, an instant memory to when the melody flowed from the speakers — And of course, you didn’t have an eidetic memory like him, (which you later learned on the jet ride there) but you just couldn’t get rid of his voice in your head, it was like a broken record almost, and you could get used to the rhythm of Spencer’s voice.

There’s many other things you noticed about him besides the way he spoke, you liked to look at how his hands would almost present what he was speaking. You would watch as they would scrunch up if he fell irritated, or almost curving like a pair of claws when he was describing something or going into detail about a factual statement, and sometimes he would just connect his fingers together and leave them there if he felt his nerves spike up inside him.

“Y/N?” Spencer asked again, a little bit of worrisome strained his voice, finally looking up at the rear view mirror for the second time that night to look at you. Although, you had already snapped out of your thoughts and averted your attention back to reality.

“Yes, Spence?” You replied.

He looked down for a moment, his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose slightly before he pushed it back up with his thumb and looked back up at the road, you waited patiently for him to say what he had to say, and while doing so you could hear Derek’s body stretching against the seat as he left out a grunt.

“I was wondering.. If maybe you would—“

“Where the hell are we?” Derek’s voice brought both you and Spencer to a halt, flinching at the roughness of his tone. He sat straight up in his seat now, rubbing his palms over his eyes to discard any trace of sleep, you could tell he felt sore by how he moved his body hesitantly and let out small groans if he moved too fast, you felt bad at the moment for him, knowing you should’ve sat up in the front seat to let him lay down properly.

But that all cleared your mind when you looked back over at Spencer who seemed annoyed and nibbled on his bottom lip with his brows churned.

“What were you saying again Spence?” You asked, now curious to what he was going to ask before Derek interrupted.

Though, your curiosity had been shut down. Spencer shook his head, his shoulders becoming more slouched than before

“It was nothing, I forgot what I was going to ask.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

The second time had been five months later.

A color palette of rotten bruises imprinted along your cheek bone, kissed by the unsub’s knuckles. The dark blues and purples mixed with your eye bags — Spencer hated how the wreckage brought out your eyes.

You sat in the back of the ambulance, shifting every other minute due to the hard surface, it was uncomfortable.

The case had ended, though not as peaceful as you had wish it would’ve been, you got the job done. But you couldn’t help but feel unaccomplished, you felt this way a lot naturally, but this case had felt so much different than the others.

You were beaten for the first time, of course, it would’ve happened sooner or later due to the dangerous mishaps that occurred with the job you consensually committed the rest of your life to. You thought you could handle it, you really did. At first it didn’t click in at first when his fist connected against your cheek, it didn’t hurt, you didn’t taste the blood in your mouth, and you hadn’t processed Spencer’s distressed pleads of your name slipping from his mouth.

There was nothing but a hazy sound in your head during it all. And it wasn’t until you found yourself ontop of the unsub when everything had started to click in. You, both of your knees tightly pinched onto the unsubs hands as the gun he had weaponized was scattered across the room, a gash was on his forehead, presumably from your crimson painted knuckles that had started to swell up from the force of your punch onto his skull, he was knocked out clean. And you felt horrible about it, you felt like him.

“Y/N?” Spencer asked quietly, he was sitting next to you in the ambulance, he was banged up a bit as well, but not as bad as you were, he suffered minimum bruising and a couple scrapes on his skin that would heal in days. You, on the other hand, had bruising brushed from your cheekbone to underneath your eye, a small cut laid on your bottom lip, crusted with blood and slight soreness to it.

You felt fine, the physical pain was nothing to you, it was the inner pain that made it hurt. You were confused, hurt, and angry, confused on how hazy your mind was, to the point where you couldn’t remember anything after being punched and only remember being ontop of the unsub who laid unconscious from your bruised fist. You were hurt because your job wasn’t to hurt others, they’re unsubs you profile and bring to justice, not to kill or bruise up in the process, though that was your own opinion on that matter for being a genuine person. But you were also angry at the fact on how a person could be so monstrous, he was a monster so why did you feel so bad about hurting him? Wasn’t it supposed to feel good to defeat the bad guys?

“Yeah, Spencer?” You replied nonchalantly, keeping your eyes locked to the ground as you snugged the blanket closer to your shivering body, you weren’t even cold, the shivering was from your anxiety and the anger rested in the pits of your stomach.

“Are you okay?”

You laughed with stiffness, Spencer immediately regretted his question. “Am I okay Spencer? Do I look okay?” Your reversed question to him left Spencer quiet, you assumed he was thinking.

“No, I don’t think you’re okay. I think you’re having a really hard time processing what had just happened and you’re feeling a wave of emotions at this moment and you need someone to talk to.” The words of his soaked into you, you listened to it all, you even moved your gaze upwards to look at his hands whilst he spoke.

You sighed, scooting closer to Spencer as the blanket slipped off your body a little. “I feel.. unaccomplished. I feel like this whole mission was a failure, I mean look at me Spencer. Am I suppose to look like this?” You had turned your face to his finally, your eyes poured into Spencer’s as his gaze was locked onto every inch of your face intently.

You could tell he was looking at each bruise, cut, scrape, and any trace of blood that was confiscated on your face, he frowned a little. “No, you shouldn’t look like this. But, you weren’t unaccomplished today, Y/N. You caught the guy, you saved more lives today by doing what you did today and no one will be mad at you for that, not even yourself.”

You kept your eyes on his, a small smile fleeing your lips. “You’re too good for me.” You whispered before laying your head against his shoulder.

“Hey Y/N?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah?” You looked upwards again, your head still placed on his shoulder.

“Do you wanna sta—“

“Agent Y/N, you’re free to go whenever. Your bruising will start to subside in a matter of weeks, soreness will come with it so I suggest keeping an ice-bag on those said places, as for your head that hit the floor when you went down, you might experience minor headaches but not severe. But as precaution, if you feel any dizziness, nausea, or throbbing pains its stated to come see us immediately. Okay?” The medic came from the corner of the ambulance, a clip board in his hands as he checked off some things on the paper connected on the clip board. During all this you had barely even registered a word he had spoke from your attention still being on Spencer’s question— again.

“Uh— Yes, I will be sure to pay attention to anything absurd. Thank you.” You quickly spit out, the medic nodded, walking swiftly away to check on the unsub in handcuffs that sat in the back of the police car.

“What were you gonna ask again Spence?”

“I should check on Hotch, I’ll talk to you later, bye Y/N.”

And he was gone again, leaving your curiosity wandering again.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

The third time was a set a year later.

You had finally settled into the BAU, it felt like you’ve been there for years now. You thought of the team like family, you’ve grown more as a person ever since you started the job.

“That’s not fair! You’re cheating!” You scowled at Spencer, noticing your defeat at UNO for the third time.

He simply laughed and rolled his eyes, "You're being a sore loser, it's not my fault you suck."

Spencer picked up your cards that you slammed onto the table stubbornly, he admitted that it was cute, but he would never say it out loud — considering the rest of the team was slumped around them in different places of the jet.

The clear tension was still not talked about between you two, and you ignored it; in hopes everything can fade away, that it never existed. But as much as you could hope, it was never going to go away, the longing touches between you two, the admiration from Spencer when he saw you doing remotely anything.

You both had a thing for one another, anyone could see it clear as day. From the second you walked into the BAU, Spencer had fallen immediately and you had only flashed a smile at him, but damn, if only he knew how much that smile would drag him along.

He tried multiple times to ask you out, both times he would prepare himself before even approaching you. The first time he planned on asking you out, Spencer spent over twenty minutes in the back room of the jet, sweating, pacing, and anxiously biting his nails at ways he could get your attention.

Truth is.. Spencer had never done this, he's never experienced anything close to this, when the world gave life to Spencer; it was greeted with awkwardness, excessive talking, and becoming best friends with his own self when no one else wanted to have a friend who was constantly up-oneing or shutting down their claims with his own facts. So when having these feelings towards a girl he’d barely known for a day.. — he didn't know how to handle it, he didn't know how to cope with those skyrocketing emotions in the slightest either.

"I'm not a sore loser!" You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

It had been late when you were returning back to Washington, the case had taken longer than expected. It drained the whole team, it pushed them to their exceeded limits, maxing out their energy and only being straight exhausted and passing out the second each member sat down on the jet.

Yet, only you and Spencer stayed up a little longer. It’s not that you both weren’t tired, it was how you were more.. scared to close your eyes. The case left a big imprint on you and Spencer, relatively with the case involving people around your guys age and seeing first hand the brutal murder of the two victims in front of you.

You learned to keep your personal feelings separate from the job, knowing it wouldn’t bring any justice to any crimes you investigated. So the whole ride to the jet, you kept quiet, averting everyones eyes, especially Spencer so you could subside your feelings and move on past it.

But something about the way one of the victims eyes looked into yours as their life faded away haunted you, it was like a mockery of what you did for a living. “You’re supposed to save lives? Why didn’t you save mine?” You could almost hear those words echo in the walls of the abandoned bathroom as you stood in shock next to Spencer who also was still with his mouth gaped open, the gun in his head quivered in his grip as he unconsciously pulled the trigger on the unsub who collapsed with a gun wound to his chest.

The team knew you were both shaken up, whether you wanted to admit or not, but they left you two be without any questioning and you were both on the jet first before anyone else.

Which lead up to now, with a deck of UNO cards between the two of you as you lost your third game in a row to Spencer. It took your mind off the case, off the dead victims and the ringing gunshot sounds that would throb your head.

But also Spencer had taken your mind off everything as well, even if he experienced the same trauma with you — you felt so unbelievably safe and comfortable with him, you believed he did too by the way he smiled up at you as he shuffled the deck of cards up before placing them back into the original box, sealing it.

“You’re very much, a sore loser Y/N.”

He got up from his chair while speaking, stretching his legs before walking to the small cabinets above Derek's sleeping figure; he gently placed the UNO into a comfortable spot to where it wouldn't knock over.

You sighed softly, feeling a yawn start to approach. “What job would you have if you didn’t work here?” You asked, wanting to not sleep yet.

Spencer flushed a little bit, shrugging his shoulder as he sat back down across from you. “It’s embarrassing.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms. “Spencer nothing is embarrassing, what is it? A magician?”

He shook his head, “No.”

“Then what?”

Spencer bit down on his bottom lip, before exhaling all his nerves. “A cowboy.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly, a smile made it’s way to your lips as you laughed softly — it wasn’t in a teasing matter, it was genuine, adoration. “A cowboy?”

“Yeah, what about you?” He asked back, his fingers twiddled together in his lap as the two of you seemingly scooted closer to eachother.

“I don’t know, maybe a writer?”

“Like Rossi?” Spencer asked, but you shook your head. “No, like poetry.”

It went quiet after that, you and Spencer were only inches away from one another, you could almost feel his breathing and you were also sure he could hear how hard your heart thumped against your chest.

“You’d be good at that you know.. Poetry.” He whispered, with the same soft eyes you saw on your first day at the BAU.

You felt your heart flutter even more. “You think so?”

“Yeah.. Um Y/N? I was wondering if maybe after we land you would like t—“

A yawn finally approached you as your eyes drooped with sleep, Spencer had cut himself off by this and breathed out heavily.

"You should go to bed." Spencer had said, starting to get up from his seat, you looked up at him, the same damn curiosity from the last two times feeling edged once more.

"I'm not tired.” You lied. “What were you going to say?"

Spencer only shrugged, his smile faded along with yours also disappearing. “It’s nothing really, we should get some sleep. I know you’re tired Y/N.”

And with that, he made his way to the other side of the jet, there was three seats in a row that were empty; so he occupied them with his body. Of course, he didn't fit all the way, his legs hung below the arm rest and he often twisted and turned his body to find a comfortable way to sleep.

And after five minutes of struggling he managed, laying on his side with his left arm dangling down the chair, he let his eyes close as he instantly fell into slumber — leaving you alone and stuck with curiosity once more that soon turned into frustration.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

You were incredibly frustrated.

With who you may be asking? Spencer Reid.

He had been unexplainably absent from your life, and you had no idea why he was acting such ways towards you.

You had noticed his mood-swings early on before he completely cut you off. In ways he would be smiling at you and suddenly his shoulders would slouch and he'd turn his back from you.

It was confusing, irritating, and sad. You wanted to talk things out, resolve it; but what was there to solve? You had no idea where to start off and every time you went up to him, Spencer would get caught up in something else or someone would interrupt you.

You simply gave up after a while and just enjoyed Spencer's presence while it lasted, but now you barely heard from him unless it was a rushed sentenced while on cases.

And you were not going to accept that any longer.

Which is how you ended up at the front steps of Spencer’s house. The puddles of water you walked through on the way over coated over the flimsy vans you wore, soaking inside the material, making your socks damp and freezing your toes. You shivered at the weather that pierced through your skin, spiking your nerves that soon created a whirl of goosebumps to layer over your body, you sniffled in the wind, your nose becoming cold and flushed, the rain had drenched you fully by how hard it had been pouring that night.

You let out a shaky breath, raising your fist up to the front door, you knocked harder than you had anticipated to, too consumed inside your thoughts.

Why had he been so distant? So upset at you for no apparent reason? You did nothing wrong, you never yelled, you never made fun of him, and not ever did you plan on leaving him so sudden like he did you. It was all so confusing and it hurt, it hurt bad to the point you weren’t sure if losing a best friend was supposed to feel like this. You already knew your liking to Spencer, hell maybe even loved the guy, but he never once showed an interest in you over the months of him slipping away, so you had dropped it, letting the feelings you had start to fade away back into platonic feelings.

So far, it had been working fine, you kept your chin held high and wore a smile on your lips freely, but the second you would look over at Spencer and him walking to the other side of the room, dismissing your presence.. it made everything in your body melt.

“Y/N?” You snapped your head forwards to Spencer’s voice, there, he stood on the other side, his hair messily mopped to the side like he had been sleeping on his side, you noticed his glasses were off and he was still in the same work attire from yesterday. Spencer looked.. tired.

“Can we talk, please?” You whispered, your voice almost going broken towards the end. You wanted to keep yourself together, you didn’t want to break down, but the intense emotions of Spencer finally speaking to you willingly pumped inside your veins and you felt pathetic for being of the verge of tears.

Instead of speaking, Spencer stepped outside, closing the door behind him while stuffing his hands in the pockets of the blazer he wore. He was looking up at you, his eyes soft as they started to glass up slowly. “What do you want Y/N?”

You scoffed. “What do I want? Spencer you left me out of the blue! It may not have been physically but you haven’t had an actual conversation with me since the night on the jet, what did I do — What happened to us? We used to be best friends.”

You didn’t care about how your voice started to break mid through speaking, you didn’t care about how cold you were, you didn’t care about the tears sprouting in your eyes and starting to pool down your cheeks. You didn’t care about anything but Spencer in that moment

“That’s the problem Y/N, I don’t want to be best friends, I want you.”

You froze. “You what?”

Spencer looked down at his shoes before looking back at you. “I’ve liked you since the second you stepped into the BAU, and for the past year i’ve done nothing but try to ask you out, and every time i’ve been interrupted by somebody and I’m tired of it and the next best thing was for me to ju—“

Grasping his face between your palms, you pulled him closer as much as your bodies allowed; your nails slightly dug into his skin by how hard you didn’t want to let go. Spencer hesitantly placed his hands on your waist, soothing your shaking body with the warmth of his palms.

Their lips molded into one, passion poured from you into the kiss as Spencer took it all in just by your lips; he could taste the artificial cherry gloss that you applied that morning, usually he didn’t like the way it felt on his own lips, but you made him crave more of it in the moment.

Then you pulled away. “Spencer, i’ve liked you ever since you first spoke to me.”

“Really?” He asked, you rolled your eyes and smiled. “For a genius you sure don’t get the memo of a girl’s intentions when they kiss you.”

Then he smiled, a smile he hadn’t felt genuine in for months, your smile increased by looking at his, a small laugh slipped from your lips as your damp clothing created a faint stain on his dry ones.

“Ask me out again.”

Spencer’s brows churned. “What?”

“I want you to ask me out again, properly since you never got the chance to.” You slid your cold hands around Spencer’s, lacing your fingers between his and grasping it tightly.

“Y/N, would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”

After almost two years, he finally got to say the words he’s been begging to say for what seemed like forever, and he had the damn biggest smile on his face as he said those words to you.

“Well fucking finally.” And then you took your hands from Spencer’s, and cupped them under his jaw before pressing your lips to his again.

[reidsprodigy]

pretty please?

spencer reid x fem! reader

summary;

you beg spencer to put his hair up into a bun for work and he eventually gives in

warnings !

absolutely none, pure fluff !!

masterlist

"Y/N, wake up." You snapped your head towards the direction of a raspy, croaked out voice. Leaning, with a lopsided, dimple showing smile, the brown locks of his bedhead frizzled out with small baby hairs striking out of place. A part of his skin was a brighter shade than his normal pale tone, the sunlight glazing against the side of his cheek, illuminating the clear skin as the natural red tint on his cheeks glowed with the sunrise. The boys eyes sparkled as he looked down at you waking up in bliss, his eyes gleamed with a hint of his own woke-ness while the underneath of his eyes were bruised with sleep.

His scratched voice sent a line of shivers down your spine, maneuvering to your toes that started to tingle. You liked the way his voice sounded in the morning, it didn't quite fit his personality or attire, but with the way his eyes peered down onto yours with a pretty smile, you were wide awake.

"What time is it?" You replied, composing yourself and pushing upwards on your elbows, you took note on the rising sun that rose slowly behind the mountains, beaming onto your skin from how you laid in bed.

Spencer glances at the clock on the stand, churning his brows while squinting his eyes to get a better view. "Half past five."

You found yourself nodding, pushing the sheets off your body and regretting it the second a gust of cold air brushed against your bare thighs, rising pricks of hair you had on your legs to stick up. “Did we get called in?” You sat on the edge of the bed while speaking, an attempt to encourage yourself to step onto the freezing wooden flooring.

It was colder than you had anticipated, looking down at your choice of fitting, it was clear you expected it to be warmer with Spencer’s boxer briefs and a loose graphic tee.

“Yeah, Hotch called around five minutes ago. It’s urgent, we probably have about.. thirty minutes to get ready.” Spencer examined the clock once more as he spoke, pushing a strand of his hair behind his ear to clear his vision.

As he spoke, you placed your bare feet onto the ground, they were clammy and padded against the wood as you carefully trudged to the bathroom, the light dimmed on your figure, the yellowish tone of the plastic covered light above your head reflected against your hair, giving it a flick of gold. Before completely shutting the door shut, a small smile smeared your lips as you ducked your head out the door. “Does the thirty minutes include a ten minute shower with you at least?” Each word you spoke, the smile grew faster until your dimples proudly showed on your face.

Spencer mocked the same gesture of your expression, already fiddling with the hem of his shirt to throw over his head before practically sprinting to the bathroom and slamming the door closed.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

They were late.

You had made note of that when the two of you extended your stay in the shower from ten minutes to twenty minutes, honestly you had lost track of time when you were with him. Especially when you got to shower together, which was rare from the strict time schedule the two of you have been on the past couple of months with an on-going case.

But damn was he so distracting to you, it got to the point where you couldn’t finish any work related thing when he would be around — which was always, you struggled to find a reason on why he was so distracting. I mean sure, he was very attractive (in literally everything he does.) And that doesn’t take away the fact you were also dating said person, which could be distracting enough to you.

But all those thoughts disappeared from your mind when you saw Spencer finally step out of the bathroom, a faint steam trailed behind him while he padded over to you with a smile hugged on his face, you didn’t even bother to resist your own from creeping up.

He kissed you gently, leaning down to match your height, you giggled slightly at the ridiculous differences in your guys height, yet your laughs were muffled by his lips pressing onto yours, melting against one another while his palms cupped underneath your jaw, his hands were always warm, they tingled on your skin, a comforting sensation soared through your body as you kissed him back finally, you own hands clasping over the ones located under your jaw.

Everything in this moment was perfect, well it was perfect until a lock of Spencer’s hair started to dangle down from his forehead, nudging its way into the blissful moment of your lips on his, you tried to ignore it, you really did but the little hairs started to brush against the tip of your nose and make you giggle into the kiss, you ended up pulling away with a sigh slipping off your lips as your lashes fluttered up at Spencer who looked somewhat annoyed, you furrowed your brows at his expression.

“I need to cut my hair.” He sighed, brushing a hand through his mid length hair, both of your guys hair were still visibly damp from the shower, his a little more than yours hence you had brush through yours and had a hair towel bundled up on your head before.

“What? No! I love your long hair.” You frowned a little, genuinely, you loved Spencer’s long hair, it was the one thing that attracted you the most to him besides his incredible intelligence. You loved many things about his current hair style, you loved to brush your fingers through the dark waves as his head would be rested between your thighs while a book was perched in his hands, reading softly to you, or the times where you could reach your hands onto his hair and tug on it gently, whether it was in a teasing manner or kissing him, you loved to tug on his hair — and Spencer as well seemed to like it.

Spencer sighed, his shoulders hunching. “I feel like it’s too long, maybe just a trim?” While speaking he wedged two of his fingers through his hair while pretending to make a scissors gesture with his fingers around three inches above his normal hair length.

You dragged out a gasped at how much he wanted to cut off. “No!” Shrieking, you tore his hands from his hair, the frown on your lips deepening. “You can’t cut off your hair Spence, especially not in the winter!” He grimaced, knowing you had a point about winter approaching fast. Spencer hated the cold, as did you, so it only made sense for him to keep his hair length so it could keep some of his face covered that a scarf couldn’t.

“It gets in the way of everything Y/N, I can’t even kiss you without it drawing attention.” You sensed the frustration starting to peak from his tone, you had bit down on your bottom lip, nibbling at the layered skin as you pondered on how to calm his mood down.

And just like a loading screen, you came up with a perfect idea. “Wait! I have just the thing.” You hurriedly jogged to the bathroom, careful to keep time on how much longer you had left to get ready before you had to be out the door for work, approximately five minutes, plenty of time to persuade Spencer into your idea if he didn’t give in right away, the corner of your mouth twitched at the thought.

Quickly, you grabbed one of your stranded hair ties on the bathroom counter, expanding the elastic band around your wrist so you didn’t lose it, then you made your way back to a confused Spencer. “What’s your idea?” He asked curiously, eyeing you up and down to see anything new that you’ve done.

“I, wanna put your hair up — Ah, ah, ah!” You pressed your lip to Spencer’s lips, hushing his complaint he was about to voice. “Just let me tie your hair into a bun and see if you like it, if you don’t you can take it down and we’ll schedule an appointment for your hair cut, deal?” While removing your finger from his lips, you stood there patiently as his mind went back and forth on the offer.

He scrunched his nose up, his lips twitching as he sighed. “Fine, but I won’t promise any liking to this idea.” You squealed happily, grabbing his hand whilst dragging him onto the edge of the bed, while doing so you looked over to the clock which gave you a two minute reminder before having to leave. So, quickly, slipping the hair band off your wrist, you sat behind Spencer’s back, resting your weight on your knees and you steadily started to gather locks of his hair into the fist of your hand. They bunched up into a small pony, tiny pieces of his baby hairs stuck outwards on the edges of his forehead, regardless, you angled the ponytail in the middle of his head, twirling the locks of hair in a circular motion before starting to tie the band around it into a (slightly messy) bun.

“Perfect! You look so attractive right now.” The words made Spencer flush, his cheeks heated with crimson while standing up to face you, as if your smile couldn’t get any wider, it proved you wrong at this sight of Spencer’s hair.

“It feels.. weird.” He mummers, looking down upon you while your fingers snaked up into his hair, digging small pieces of his hair out of the bun to make it look less messy, the small hairs you pulled sculpted out his forehead, balancing nicely on the edges of his head while some laid by his ears.

“You get used to it by an hour or two, but until then, we really have to get to work before Hotch warns us again.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

The moment the two of you stepped foot into the office, several pairs of eyes latched onto you two, most of then concentrated on Spencer — you could feel the nerves inside him spiking up as his skin flared up a bit. With your hand tightly clasped around his, you laced your fingers between his and squeezed his hand for reassurance, he smiled down at you and you walked together to your desks.

“Oh my god.” The abruptness of Penelope’s voice ringed through your ears, you turned your head to where her voice was heard at and smiled. “Your hair — Oh my god, did you do this Y/N?” She was baffled, her mouth gaped open slightly as she hesitantly reached her hand up to touch the bun behind his head, You giggled quietly at her actions with her fondness of his hair.

“It took a little bit of convincing, but yeah, does it look good?” You asked.

Penelope only stared straight ahead at Spencer, his face growing more flushed by the second. “Good? It looks.. I can’t even begin! I mean — I love it!” Spencer felt a little more relieved at Penelope’s adoration for his hair, it made him loosen up a bit more.

Though, that didn’t last long until the oh too familiar voice of Derek came echoing around the corner.

“Pretty boy, do my eyes deceive me or is your hair up in a little bun?”

And then, Spencer realized he was never going to live this one down.

[reidsprodigy]

one last dance

spencer reid x fem! reader

summary;

instead of maeve, its you who has last dance with spencer before he moves on from your death for good

warnings !

angst, mentions of death (graphic), blood, guns

The soft movements of Spencer’s body shuffled around the crinkled bedsheets, his legs shifted; tucking under his calfs into a form of a ball, his arms neatly wrapped around a pillow — your pillow, his arms collapsed tightly over the thin-white material; the softness of the pillow had deflated due to his grip and smushing it against his face. He dug his nose deeply into the pillow; searching for the smell he was almost forgetting, the scent of you on the only thing he had left to remember you by, a pillow. He clung onto it for dear life, almost suffocating himself to inhale the scent that once lingered everywhere in the place you once called home together.

He used to sleep peacefully at night, with you on the left side of the bed, his arms hugged around your waist while your feet intertwined to keep each other warm. Spencer would create circular motions on your spine with his fingers, persuading you into sleep, (he knew you needed sleep any chance you could get) And he’d watch, his eyes concentrating on your closed ones as you fell deeper into unconsciousness, even with an eidetic memory; he could never fully remember what it looked like when you sleep, perhaps by the numerous positions you would be in when you fell asleep each night, there was too many to re call for his brain. Although now, he wished he could remember; because instead, Spencer was wrapped around a pillow, dried splotches of wetness imprinted into the material — his tears, drenched, each having a different meaning.

Some were caused with distraught; especially the first night with you gone. The second he stepped into the apartment he fell apart; with the walls he had built around himself through the mission and all the way to the hospital were tarnishing down, crumbling to the ground into nothing but rubble, they were laid by his feet and he watched as everything was tumbling down. Tears sparked the corners of his eyes; already spilling over the borders and slipping down his cheeks, the sudden movements of his emotions were overwhelming — his skin flared up, slowly becoming puffy, wet and stinging with a raw texture; distraught erupted in his throat, not even trying to quiet down the havoc his emotions were causing through the thin walls of the apartment, his world crashed, tore into pieces that wouldn’t be able to be put back together — you were gone, there was no going back, there wasn’t a time machine, there was nothing. Spencer remembered the way his knees hit the ground, his breathing stuttered, it was like his lungs were on fire as they pounded against his chest, igniting with an unforgettable pain, his shoulders hunched forwards when his hands touched the ground with his knees; he dug his fingers into the loose carpet; tugging, pulling and yanking on the stubby material until he could feel the glue start to deteriorate from underneath.

The physical pain was nothing, it was numbing the more he thought of it. It was the emotional pain that he endured, the mental image that imprinted itself into his brain; the gut wrenching image of you in his arms. He remembers the outfit you were wearing, a black-long sleeved shirt that had a turtle neck-like collar and a pair of blue jeans with torn edges on the sides from how much physical activity you used in them, and of course, you had a FBI bullet-proof vest on. Now looking back, the image of you was nothing but a nightmare, the neatly put outfit was now gone, being smothered in splatters of blood, your own blood, the black material along your neck had been replaced with the crimson ooze flowing from your neck, imprinting onto the material, making it an even darker shader than before if possible. — Spencer had to bite back a shuddering sob, picturing himself looking up into the eyes of the deceased. It was something that would haunt him, forever, not ever escaping the brain, the mind, or his eyes every time he would blink. The cold dead eyes were staring directly into Spencer’s glossed ones, he knew your eyes weren’t actually looking at him, but it felt like it, he felt your gaze fixated onto his, pouring the rest of the pain and fear you had as you died.

But as the days continued on from then, Spencer learned how to cope with it. With you being gone, the team had helped Spencer in the apartment; packing away your stuff in boxes, folding each particle of clothing you had neatly, they held back their own emotions for the sake of Spencer’s fragile mental health — not wanting to upset him more, but he kept stable, packing along with the team, and at the end of the night, they individually hugged Spencer tightly; giving him a sympathetic stare and a murmured “Sorry” or “It’ll get better.” It wouldn’t, but he had some hope in the words.

The nights started getting better three months after you had died, Spencer was finally able to close his eyes at night without seeing the vivid picture of you laid in his arms and on your last breath. He was able to push it into the back of his head for a couple decent hours of sleep until the nightmares would settle in and he’d be up at the crack of dawn. Before, you would be up by his side, arms wrapped around his torso as you nudged your face closer into the corner of his neck, peppering small kisses on his warm skin; it was your comfort, to help him forget the nightmares he would frequently have after certain cases that hit too close to home.

Now you were the nightmare.

Spencer shifted in the bed once more, feeling awake and frustrated. His brows churned with irritation, the dimples on his face turning into a frown, whilst a hand snaked through his hair lazily. He looked over at the time, the green lighting flashed ‘four o’five’ brightly, the colors reflected onto Spencer’s glossed eyes from exhaustion, he breathed heavily at the time and leaned his head back into the pillow knowing he wasn’t going back to bed anytime soon.

With his eyelids drooping and his breathing becoming faint, Spencer heard the light echoes of footsteps approaching; the steps collided with a small creak from the wooden flooring, Spencer swore he was having another nightmare — though, that was until the door to his bedroom had cracked open, with the faintest moonlight fixated on the person before him, his lips parted slowly before squinting — first glance, he was sure it wasn’t you, second glance, you were a couple steps from his sleepy state.

The sight laid before him was unimaginable, the corner of your lips twitched up into a smile — narrowing your eyes down onto Spencer.

“Well are you just gonna lay there or are you gonna say hello?” Teasing, his former lover sat down neatly onto his bed whilst he looked up at you.

“Wh— That doesn’t make any se—sense, Y/N?” With his words tumbling off his tongue with shock, the way he said your name felt foreign; like he hadn’t said it in months. You reached out with your hand and steadily placed it along Spencer’s cheek, your thumb caressing his cheekbones as you rubbed gently onto his skin.

“Well I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye right? After all, it took me a while to come to you, all you did was block the memory of me from your brain so I couldn’t get to you sooner to do this.” You tried your best to make your words comforting, after all — Spencer was still in audible shock from you being in front of him, touching him for the first time in six months of him craving for the warmth of your skin on his.

“How?” He found himself asking — you only shrugged before standing up from the bed, “Dance with me.” Running a hand down Spencer’s chest, until you reached down onto his palm; you linked your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb delicately over the back of his hand — he felt a spark of electricity maneuver his veins, then you tugged him upwards, sending him forward into your arms — out of instinct, he latched his free hand onto your waist, gripping it with small pressure.

“I don’t understand—“ Falling silent whilst you pressed your finger against his lips, shushing him, he glanced down onto you; the words he wanted to say disappearing from his tongue.

“You can’t keep asking someone the same question when they don’t know the answer, I wanna dance.” With you changing the subject swiftly, Spencer had kept quiet; allowing your words to settle into his brain.

“What song should we play?” He manages to splutter out, glancing down your body to where his hands were laid carelessly on your hips; tightening his grip ever so slightly to see if this was real.

“We don’t need a song, your breathing is already music to me.” Whispering, your hands went from his arms to the broad of his shoulders, you massaged them gently before placing your palms flat down onto his shoulders.

With his grip trembling around your hips, his bottom lip pouted and quivered. You watched his eyes gloss up, him looking down as Spencer mustered a sigh, slowly beginning to move along to the stagnant silence in the room.

The tears that desperately wanted to spill down his cheeks kept surface behind the brim of his eyes, his blood flooded his pale skin, they painted crimson and blended into the harsh light hues of the curtains reflected against the sky of misty gray and blue — the moon starting to lower into the smeared clouds whisked like a paint brush.

“Why’d you do it?” Speaking quietly, he tried to keep his voice from cracking and shaking, whilst having all reasons to do so — Spencer didn’t want to look like a coward in front of you.

You bit your lip momentarily, the skin latching between your teeth as you bit down ever so softly. “I did it to protect you.”

“To protect me? How was — How was sacrificing yourself protecting me?” The two of you still swayed across the wooden flooring of Spencer’s room, although, with his grip only tightening onto your delicate skin; it would almost seem like it was bruising the longer his hand was kept there, though, you were still a hallucination, an imagination from Spencer’s mind. A comfort for his timing, so you didn’t actually feel any given pain.

“Spencer if there’s one thing I will never regret in my life time of knowing you, is saving your life. Your life is so much more valuable than mine ever was, the team needed you more than they did me. Not ever would I go back in time to change that, so yes, it was to protect you and I will never be sorry for it.” Spencer’s grip loosened on your hips, a cold sting kissed your skin from the lack of warmth from where his hand was placed before — yet all was forgotten by the time his hands laced between yours, a gasp lodged in your throat as you felt a cooling grasp cradled behind your head as Spencer’s other arm scooped behind your lower back and dipped you slightly, the locks of your hair almost touching the floor as you swung your head back further, revealing only your neck to Spencer’s view.

“Can’t you stay forever? Can’t I —“ With his tone growing fragmented, the overwhelming emotions raised higher and you were back on your two feet, his brows churned whilst his eyes were shut tightly. Your dimples frowned with your forehead creasing, you noticed the tears slowly spilling from his eyes, little drops slid down his rosy cheeks as your index finger swiped them away. “You know I can’t stay forever, it’s just how it was meant to be.”

“This is how our story was supposed to go.”

Spencer’s drops of tears had dried partially on his face, they creased and melted into the olive tone of him, he could feel his cheeks tighten. “What if our story doesn’t have to go like this?”

You looked up, the fingertips of your hand tracing up his jawline; a small stubble of hair scratched against your finger, a soft chuckle came from your lips as you remembered how much he hated facial hair, something about how it made him look messy and non professional, you thought otherwise but supported his choices nonetheless. “You have to let me go, Spence.”

You parted your lips once more to continue, only to be cut short when you felt his arms wrap around yours, Spencer’s body initially tensed up at the unfamiliar feeling his body experienced, it was like a newborn emotion that he hasn’t felt in months. Comfort, warmth, happiness. Euphoria. The gathering of emotions flowed threw his body at a rapid pace, his heart even raced at the feeling of your chest against his.

Threading your hand behind his head, you curled your fingers through his messy curls, tangling your fingertips through the dark shades of bronze. You couldn’t feel what Spencer was feeling during this moment, all you could feel was his body pressure against yours, nothing but cold and pressure was greeted to you.

“I love you.” With his words muffled between your shoulder blades, Spencer’s body shook and collapsed more against your small frame, surprisingly holding up his weight gracefully.

You never said it back, instead you pulled him tighter. With your eyes fluttering shut and digging your face into the crook of his neck, the tension of his muscles lessened and melted into your arms more freely whilst his breathing became more calming, stable.

“Promise me something.” You whispered into his skin. He nodded gently, words no longer being spoken.

“Promise you’ll love someone other than me.”

The words you hoped to hear never came, instead, his arms flexed whilst his fingers curled in the material of your shirt, and the two of you stood there in the middle of his room until the sun started to make an appearance behind the series of clouds in the skyline, a hue of oranges, reds, and yellows glossed in Spencer’s vision as the imagination of you slowly faded into the night, leaving Spencer hugging nothing but thin air.

“I promise.”

[hercleverboy]

this was so beautifully written and has me full on sobbing at 7:30 am

[spencerreidsmiles]

ahhhhHhhhhhHHHHhh

At this point y’all already know I’m a sucker for description and this! Had! The! Description!!!!! The details are PRESENT and I think that’s one of the great merits of this fic. The imagery is what makes it so emotional and immersive. It’s what allows us, the readers, to feel what Spencer feels and feel for him in return.

Honestly this fic reads like a giant run-on sentence WHICH ISNT A BAD THING TRUST ME. In this scenario, I feel like that kind of almost rambly sounding prose works since it’s almost like Spencer’s emotions and memories are taking over and there’s no room to breathe or pause or think. It’s immersive and smart and I appreciate it greatly!!

Also the line “we don’t need a song, your breathing is already music to me”. Damn. That hits different, y’all. Idk why that’s the line that got to me but damn.

Anyway clearly this is a high recommendation 10/10 we love a sad fic in this house!!

(Also v sorry for analyzing your fic!! The inner former English major in me just had to pop off tonight)

[reidsprodigy]

YOURE THE ABSOLUTE SWEETEST PERSON EVER !!! THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME A FULL OPINION, I REALLY APPRECIATE IT SO MUCH <3 !!!

[reidsprodigy]

one last dance

spencer reid x fem! reader

summary;

instead of maeve, its you who has last dance with spencer before he moves on from your death for good

warnings !

angst, mentions of death (graphic), blood, guns

masterlist

The soft movements of Spencer’s body shuffled around the crinkled bedsheets, his legs shifted; tucking under his calfs into a form of a ball, his arms neatly wrapped around a pillow — your pillow, his arms collapsed tightly over the thin-white material; the softness of the pillow had deflated due to his grip and smushing it against his face. He dug his nose deeply into the pillow; searching for the smell he was almost forgetting, the scent of you on the only thing he had left to remember you by, a pillow. He clung onto it for dear life, almost suffocating himself to inhale the scent that once lingered everywhere in the place you once called home together.

He used to sleep peacefully at night, with you on the left side of the bed, his arms hugged around your waist while your feet intertwined to keep each other warm. Spencer would create circular motions on your spine with his fingers, persuading you into sleep, (he knew you needed sleep any chance you could get) And he’d watch, his eyes concentrating on your closed ones as you fell deeper into unconsciousness, even with an eidetic memory; he could never fully remember what it looked like when you sleep, perhaps by the numerous positions you would be in when you fell asleep each night, there was too many to re call for his brain. Although now, he wished he could remember; because instead, Spencer was wrapped around a pillow, dried splotches of wetness imprinted into the material — his tears, drenched, each having a different meaning.

Some were caused with distraught; especially the first night with you gone. The second he stepped into the apartment he fell apart; with the walls he had built around himself through the mission and all the way to the hospital were tarnishing down, crumbling to the ground into nothing but rubble, they were laid by his feet and he watched as everything was tumbling down. Tears sparked the corners of his eyes; already spilling over the borders and slipping down his cheeks, the sudden movements of his emotions were overwhelming — his skin flared up, slowly becoming puffy, wet and stinging with a raw texture; distraught erupted in his throat, not even trying to quiet down the havoc his emotions were causing through the thin walls of the apartment, his world crashed, tore into pieces that wouldn’t be able to be put back together — you were gone, there was no going back, there wasn’t a time machine, there was nothing. Spencer remembered the way his knees hit the ground, his breathing stuttered, it was like his lungs were on fire as they pounded against his chest, igniting with an unforgettable pain, his shoulders hunched forwards when his hands touched the ground with his knees; he dug his fingers into the loose carpet; tugging, pulling and yanking on the stubby material until he could feel the glue start to deteriorate from underneath.

The physical pain was nothing, it was numbing the more he thought of it. It was the emotional pain that he endured, the mental image that imprinted itself into his brain; the gut wrenching image of you in his arms. He remembers the outfit you were wearing, a black-long sleeved shirt that had a turtle neck-like collar and a pair of blue jeans with torn edges on the sides from how much physical activity you used in them, and of course, you had a FBI bullet-proof vest on. Now looking back, the image of you was nothing but a nightmare, the neatly put outfit was now gone, being smothered in splatters of blood, your own blood, the black material along your neck had been replaced with the crimson ooze flowing from your neck, imprinting onto the material, making it an even darker shader than before if possible. — Spencer had to bite back a shuddering sob, picturing himself looking up into the eyes of the deceased. It was something that would haunt him, forever, not ever escaping the brain, the mind, or his eyes every time he would blink. The cold dead eyes were staring directly into Spencer’s glossed ones, he knew your eyes weren’t actually looking at him, but it felt like it, he felt your gaze fixated onto his, pouring the rest of the pain and fear you had as you died.

But as the days continued on from then, Spencer learned how to cope with it. With you being gone, the team had helped Spencer in the apartment; packing away your stuff in boxes, folding each particle of clothing you had neatly, they held back their own emotions for the sake of Spencer’s fragile mental health — not wanting to upset him more, but he kept stable, packing along with the team, and at the end of the night, they individually hugged Spencer tightly; giving him a sympathetic stare and a murmured “Sorry” or “It’ll get better.” It wouldn’t, but he had some hope in the words.

The nights started getting better three months after you had died, Spencer was finally able to close his eyes at night without seeing the vivid picture of you laid in his arms and on your last breath. He was able to push it into the back of his head for a couple decent hours of sleep until the nightmares would settle in and he’d be up at the crack of dawn. Before, you would be up by his side, arms wrapped around his torso as you nudged your face closer into the corner of his neck, peppering small kisses on his warm skin; it was your comfort, to help him forget the nightmares he would frequently have after certain cases that hit too close to home.

Now you were the nightmare.

Spencer shifted in the bed once more, feeling awake and frustrated. His brows churned with irritation, the dimples on his face turning into a frown, whilst a hand snaked through his hair lazily. He looked over at the time, the green lighting flashed ‘four o’five’ brightly, the colors reflected onto Spencer’s glossed eyes from exhaustion, he breathed heavily at the time and leaned his head back into the pillow knowing he wasn’t going back to bed anytime soon.

With his eyelids drooping and his breathing becoming faint, Spencer heard the light echoes of footsteps approaching; the steps collided with a small creak from the wooden flooring, Spencer swore he was having another nightmare — though, that was until the door to his bedroom had cracked open, with the faintest moonlight fixated on the person before him, his lips parted slowly before squinting — first glance, he was sure it wasn’t you, second glance, you were a couple steps from his sleepy state.

The sight laid before him was unimaginable, the corner of your lips twitched up into a smile — narrowing your eyes down onto Spencer.

“Well are you just gonna lay there or are you gonna say hello?” Teasing, his former lover sat down neatly onto his bed whilst he looked up at you.

“Wh— That doesn’t make any se—sense, Y/N?” With his words tumbling off his tongue with shock, the way he said your name felt foreign; like he hadn’t said it in months. You reached out with your hand and steadily placed it along Spencer’s cheek, your thumb caressing his cheekbones as you rubbed gently onto his skin.

“Well I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye right? After all, it took me a while to come to you, all you did was block the memory of me from your brain so I couldn’t get to you sooner to do this.” You tried your best to make your words comforting, after all — Spencer was still in audible shock from you being in front of him, touching him for the first time in six months of him craving for the warmth of your skin on his.

“How?” He found himself asking — you only shrugged before standing up from the bed, “Dance with me.” Running a hand down Spencer’s chest, until you reached down onto his palm; you linked your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb delicately over the back of his hand — he felt a spark of electricity maneuver his veins, then you tugged him upwards, sending him forward into your arms — out of instinct, he latched his free hand onto your waist, gripping it with small pressure.

“I don’t understand—“ Falling silent whilst you pressed your finger against his lips, shushing him, he glanced down onto you; the words he wanted to say disappearing from his tongue.

“You can’t keep asking someone the same question when they don’t know the answer, I wanna dance.” With you changing the subject swiftly, Spencer had kept quiet; allowing your words to settle into his brain.

“What song should we play?” He manages to splutter out, glancing down your body to where his hands were laid carelessly on your hips; tightening his grip ever so slightly to see if this was real.

“We don’t need a song, your breathing is already music to me.” Whispering, your hands went from his arms to the broad of his shoulders, you massaged them gently before placing your palms flat down onto his shoulders.

With his grip trembling around your hips, his bottom lip pouted and quivered. You watched his eyes gloss up, him looking down as Spencer mustered a sigh, slowly beginning to move along to the stagnant silence in the room.

The tears that desperately wanted to spill down his cheeks kept surface behind the brim of his eyes, his blood flooded his pale skin, they painted crimson and blended into the harsh light hues of the curtains reflected against the sky of misty gray and blue — the moon starting to lower into the smeared clouds whisked like a paint brush.

“Why’d you do it?” Speaking quietly, he tried to keep his voice from cracking and shaking, whilst having all reasons to do so — Spencer didn’t want to look like a coward in front of you.

You bit your lip momentarily, the skin latching between your teeth as you bit down ever so softly. “I did it to protect you.”

“To protect me? How was — How was sacrificing yourself protecting me?” The two of you still swayed across the wooden flooring of Spencer’s room, although, with his grip only tightening onto your delicate skin; it would almost seem like it was bruising the longer his hand was kept there, though, you were still a hallucination, an imagination from Spencer’s mind. A comfort for his timing, so you didn’t actually feel any given pain.

“Spencer if there’s one thing I will never regret in my life time of knowing you, is saving your life. Your life is so much more valuable than mine ever was, the team needed you more than they did me. Not ever would I go back in time to change that, so yes, it was to protect you and I will never be sorry for it.” Spencer’s grip loosened on your hips, a cold sting kissed your skin from the lack of warmth from where his hand was placed before — yet all was forgotten by the time his hands laced between yours, a gasp lodged in your throat as you felt a cooling grasp cradled behind your head as Spencer’s other arm scooped behind your lower back and dipped you slightly, the locks of your hair almost touching the floor as you swung your head back further, revealing only your neck to Spencer’s view.

“Can’t you stay forever? Can’t I —“ With his tone growing fragmented, the overwhelming emotions raised higher and you were back on your two feet, his brows churned whilst his eyes were shut tightly. Your dimples frowned with your forehead creasing, you noticed the tears slowly spilling from his eyes, little drops slid down his rosy cheeks as your index finger swiped them away. “You know I can’t stay forever, it’s just how it was meant to be.”

“This is how our story was supposed to go.”

Spencer’s drops of tears had dried partially on his face, they creased and melted into the olive tone of him, he could feel his cheeks tighten. “What if our story doesn’t have to go like this?”

You looked up, the fingertips of your hand tracing up his jawline; a small stubble of hair scratched against your finger, a soft chuckle came from your lips as you remembered how much he hated facial hair, something about how it made him look messy and non professional, you thought otherwise but supported his choices nonetheless. “You have to let me go, Spence.”

You parted your lips once more to continue, only to be cut short when you felt his arms wrap around yours, Spencer’s body initially tensed up at the unfamiliar feeling his body experienced, it was like a newborn emotion that he hasn’t felt in months. Comfort, warmth, happiness. Euphoria. The gathering of emotions flowed threw his body at a rapid pace, his heart even raced at the feeling of your chest against his.

Threading your hand behind his head, you curled your fingers through his messy curls, tangling your fingertips through the dark shades of bronze. You couldn’t feel what Spencer was feeling during this moment, all you could feel was his body pressure against yours, nothing but cold and pressure was greeted to you.

“I love you.” With his words muffled between your shoulder blades, Spencer’s body shook and collapsed more against your small frame, surprisingly holding up his weight gracefully.

You never said it back, instead you pulled him tighter. With your eyes fluttering shut and digging your face into the crook of his neck, the tension of his muscles lessened and melted into your arms more freely whilst his breathing became more calming, stable.

“Promise me something.” You whispered into his skin. He nodded gently, words no longer being spoken.

“Promise you’ll love someone other than me.”

The words you hoped to hear never came, instead, his arms flexed whilst his fingers curled in the material of your shirt, and the two of you stood there in the middle of his room until the sun started to make an appearance behind the series of clouds in the skyline, a hue of oranges, reds, and yellows glossed in Spencer’s vision as the imagination of you slowly faded into the night, leaving Spencer hugging nothing but thin air.

“I promise.”