summary : a rabbids invasion plushie, a demolished gingerbread house, a scary retelling of krampus, and above all– lots of mischief!
cw/tw : MAYBE innacurate portrayal of krampus (i had google and a dream), same family from my post "how i met your dad!", your child calls both you and spencer bwabwa (like from rabbids invasion😭), lots of mentions of rabbids invasion actually, im too TIRED to bother with keeping the child androgynous so she's a daughter now im sorry💔💔
shayli's ted talk: OUHH i be doing anything but finishing my other 3 drafts, also merry christmas!
"BWABWA!"
The familiar sound of your daughter screaming out that god forsaken nickname usually wouldn't have startled both you and Spencer out of bed, if it weren't for the fact that she genuinely sounded terrified.
Maybe it was years of training drilled into both of you, or maybe the fear in her shriek resembled a previous victim's scream too well– but either way, you both didn't waste time and practically scrambled out of bed.
Your hair was a mess, Spencer's was messier
The cardigan you wore last night practically vanished during REM, and Spencer's wonky christmas sock shrugged itself off his foot somewhere along shuffling and sleep
But the inconvenience did not put a halt to your sprint at all.
"Yes? Sweetie are you okay? We're coming!"
Both of you spoke at the same time, as if your fight or flight modes went in hand and hand, coming out unintentionally synchronized.
Then, you finally reach the living room, your daughter sat beneath the christmas tree that dwarfed her in comparision, held in her hand a Rabbid plushie you very much remember wrapping last night.
"You got me a Rabbid!"
She squeals out in excitement, practically squeezing the life out of that plushie with one hug, you could only hope she didn't wear it out by next christmas.
Both you and Spencer relax into each other while still standing, the sight was enough to elicit a sigh of relief, she wasn't in danger– and christmas could go just as planned.
Without any vengeful unsubs nearby.
"Are you sure Santa didn't give you that Rabbid?" Spencer is the first to reply to her proclamations of joy because of that Rabbid, walking up towards her and then sitting down on the floor next to her
"Dadd– I mean! Bwabwa," She corrects herself, determined to let the silly nickname stick "it is very.. un.. realish.. tic! To believe in Santa."
She then props up the head of her scarily accurate to the cartoon Rabbid plushie, bobbing his head up and down while murmuring "Bwah bwah bwah" beneath her breath like a ventriloquist, as if to show even the Rabbid agreed Santa was a childish thought.
You snort, joining the two of them kneeled near the christmas tree "So much for christmas magic" you nudge Spencer with your shoulder and he just huffs "It's actually a good thing, it means she knows how to question and reason, a sign she's developing some pretty handy critical thinking."
"She probably got it from you, always asking questions." You joke, even though you know most of the time it's not Spencer asking questions he's the one answering them, but surely he must have been a curious child. Just like your daughter now.
"I wonder.." he trails off, looking to your daughter dancing with her Rabbid "Do you think she'd believe in Krampus?"
"Spence, you're not seriously considering telling her a creepy christmas tale." You deadpan, yet you raise an eyebrow anyway, as if a little intrigued by the thought deep down.
"Well it'd be interesting to test, see.. I've got this theory that I may or may not have been the main cause of why she's so skeptical of Santa because I keep.. saying facts that go against his existence."
"But.." he drags the vowel, as if adding suspense to the most silliest idea you have ever heard "If I talked about Krampus, and cited facts about why he could be real, would she believe it or would she also doubt it like Santa?"
".. and what exactly does this experiment of yours prove?" You question, still a little hesitant on scaring your daughter with an old folk tale, the last time Spencer did that with Bloody Mary on Halloween, she didn't go infront of mirrors for ages no matter how many facts Spencer said about the fallacies of the horror story.
"It'll prove my theory on whether or not I'm ruining magic for her." He murmurs, a little sad beneath all the christmas spirit
"You're not ruining magic for her," your voice goes soft, the way that makes Spencer turn a little stupid "You just happen to be a very good story teller, you could tell her candy can fall from the sky and she'd believe it"
He smiles, a little giddy in the heart from all the reassurance, you place a kiss atop his fluffy set of curls before finally agreeing to his proposal.
"Now, go and tell your old christmas tale to our daughter" you encourage with a small squeeze of his hand "but if she gets too scared and needs to sleep next to someone you're gonna be that someone."
He raises his hand in gesture of a salute, as if to prove he'd be taking your conditions very seriously "Duly noted." You only laugh before hitting him softly on the shoulder
──
After a heartiful dinner and one too many jokes, your family finally begins munching on the gingerbread house you all had been panicking about while constructing last night.
You remember it all too well, your daughter barking out orders for Spencer to get more rectangular shaped cookie dough, and the first version of the house falling down because Spencer forgot to put icing on the backside.
When your daughter starts taking all the gumdrops for herself, Spencer begins Operation AIRMFH (Am I Ruining Magic For Her?)
"Sweetie, have you ever heard of Krampus?" Spencer begins, a tentative eye placed on her for any initial reactions to the name.
She looks up, intrigued by the unfamiliar name, "No.. who's that?" She questions, a bright smile on her face unaware of the story at all.
"Well, see, Santa has a companion everytime he goes to gives presents to everyone," He starts, his fingers gesturing an invisible motion, keeping her invested "That companion is Krampus, so while Santa gives out toys and fun stuff to the good kids.."
"Krampus goes into the bad kids house and hits them with birch branches," he says, letting his tone take on a more uneasy edge before continuing "And he's this big.. hairy almost devil-like guy"
He gestures his hand to the wall, using his hands to make a shadow puppet of what seems to be the appearance of Krampus, to help her imagine what this creature looked like exactly.
"He had horns.." his finger points up, giving the shadow figure a horn just like he described "and he had one foot that looked just like a goat's foot!"
Your daughter begins inching closer and closer to you, her chair practically right against yours as she nuzzles into you, you had to give it to Spencer– that shadow figure was really good.
"And if you were a really really really bad kid, he'd kidnap you from your house and take you straight to his lair!"
She squeals at her imagination running wild with every new piece of information, she wasn't a bad kid for sure right?
And then immediately after, Spencer softens up, his hands resting back onto his lap and the shadow of what appeared to be Krampus disappearing.
"So, how'd you like that story sweetheart?" He asks, smiling as if he hadn't just given his daughter a fright.
She looks down at her Rabbid plushie before looking back up at Spencer, her fear washing away and being replaced by skepticism.
"If.. Santa isn't real, how does Krampus accompany him?"
Spencer smiles, just a little bit, the question alone was proof he was indeed not ruining legendary folk tales and unexplainable magic to her.
But he keeps the act going anyway.
"Well.. nobody knows, some say that they've seen him before, and some say their own kids we're taken by him"
"If nobody knows then he can't be real then!"
"No.. what I meant was that nobody can confirm he actually does that to naughty kids." He gently corrects, hoping to see if she'll fall for the story now or not.
".. Then I'll confirm it!" She squeals, standing upright in her seat with all the confidence in the world. Spencer just sits in his own a little befuddled.
"You said Krampus hits all the bad kids with branches right? If I'm a bad kid all year long, then next Christmas.. Krampus should come!"
Spencer panicks, his story clearly backfiring against his daughter's new idea for an experiment.
"No no no no you- you don't have to be the one to prove his existence–" He starts, trying to neutralize the idea before she can get too excited, but is unfortunately too late.
"If I.. prove he is real.. I could be a scientist! A real one! Like daddy!" She says, her excitement allowing her to forget the "Bwabwa" nickname for the meanwhile.
"Yeah... yeah.. like Daddy.." he says unsure with a confused smile, you only look at him from across the table with barely held in laughter.
"You are so gonna be the one to fix this." You comment with a smile after your daughter runs off with her Rabbid to begin her year of mischief. Pointing a finger at him in accusation
hello gals, guys, and gays i'm (un)fortunately going to be flying out to my 2nd home country (china) so my current drafts (seasons, no.1 party anthem) wont come out until like.. wednesday..? i'm not sure
on the bright side though i'll have plenty of time to write on the flight! and who knows? maybe i'll think of some creative idea with the new scenery
here are the 2 fics in the drafts if you're curious! and another one too but i dont plan on writing it till im done with atleast one of the above..
summary : spencer contemplates his feelings and discovers just how much he loves you
tw/cw: healthy amounts of yearning from spencer i swear, unestablished relationship, PINING PINING PINING. this is so shorttt sorry😓
shayli's ted talk: i've listened to this song to an unhealthy amount oh my god. heavily based off of the song "Balisong (transformed)" by Rico Blanco (it's the version i prefer more, but Rivermaya's is also amazing!) Give it a listen if you will :). this fic also contains lyrics of the song, all lyrics will be in italics
Found myself stranded in visions of your
Mysterious stare beautiful hair
I can't quite explain it the way you've transformed
Left me in awe of you.
Spencer sat in his all too big apartment, fidgeting with an old Frank Sinatra CD as his recorder filled the room with the symphony of slow jazz.
His mind was a blur, it always was, but now it felt more like it'd been smudged entirely to the point he couldn't squint through the haze any longer.
It had been like this for a whole week now, his usual ability to compartmentalize having flickered on and off until it went dark completely. It frustrated him beyond words.
Being able to control the massive amounts of intellect he casually had laying around in his mind was the one form of power he had in this life, it was the only place he didn't feel like a 14 year old in.
Yet now he found himself feeling like that young teenager again, who was known for potential and nothing more.
He didn't know how he was going to survive without the one ability that made him feel useful, the one ability that news articles praised endlessly. It was all he ever knew.
And now he was a complete ruin because of you, because you were starting to compete against case files on who occupied his mind more.
And of course, you emerged victorious in the end.
You were.. fresh, not minty gum fresh, but maybe like 'the sensation of the cold breeze brushing over you' kind of fresh. You were.. gentle with him, not pitiful.
You were also captivating, his interest wasn't piqued in the way he was when he read a new scientific article, it was.. unfamiliar. He didn't like unfamiliar.
He's never charted into this kind of territory before, but he knew what it was called. Attraction, infatuation, attachment.
Or the colloquial term, a crush.
How in the world was he supposed to handle his entire system overheating just by your hello? Was he supposed to.. move past it? Make a move? If so, how would he do that? When– where? And.. why???
You changed the world that I once knew
Transformin' everythin' to paradise with you
You and I are melodies
Dancin' forever our love is a symphony
It was hard to put it into English on the effect you had on him, he'd taken notes of his recent changes in his behaviour after your own suggestions that weren't even suggestions.
He'd straightened up his shrimp-like posture you once spent a good 5 minutes giggling at, he stopped fidgeting with the table after you told him it sort of distracted you.
Since, you know, your desks are just so conveniently right infront of each other.
It made his sneaky stares a little more easy to explain, you were close physically, it wouldn't be as questionable compared to if he was 2 desks away from you.
"Sorry.. I just zoned out."
"My bad.. my pen just rolled over to your side and i'm too tired to get it."
"I'm.. I'm just trying to look away from all this paperwork. Didn't mean to look at you for so long."
His excuses as to why he spent minutes focusing his gaze on you only got more stupider and less believable as he began running out of excuses.
Never in my life have I been more sure
Nobody's made me feel this way before
Never in my life have I been more sure
You're everything I wanted.
He sighs, frustrated once more and punches the cushion of the sofa with as much force as a petulant child. His mind beginning to fill once more with just you again.
He thinks about how you liked milkshakes but always questioned the cherry ontop of the whipped cream, about how you stopped taking the bus after you saw your ex on it once.
About how your face was the one he always searched for even in the most unlikely crowds, how your eyes shined like they held the stars hung up in the very sky, how the beauty of your visage was something he could only dream of ever touching–
Okay, he's getting off topic.
How would he really navigate this though? He knew Morgan would be the worst person ever for dating advice because he'd either 1. rat him out or 2. give him a pat on the back and say "my man".
Penelope wouldn't be any good either, she'd either run to Morgan or be the one to snitch on him instead.
Hotch wouldn't entertain the thought much, maybe crack one joke or two about how he should stick to files before returning back to the unshakeable unit chief persona.
Elle... maybe she could give him a few words that'd be of actual use, he's about to call her until he remembers her words to him just this evening.
"Don't even think about bothering me tonight Doctor Reid, because tonight I will be going on a daaaateeeee!"
Yeah.. no, besides if he asked her for advice anyway. He'd be in debt to her if her idea worked, and the last time Spencer owed her, he lost half of his paycheck on her shopping.
Maybe... JJ? She had to know a few tricks and tips about the lady mind. Right?
Nevermind, JJ was still at the office doing a buttload of paperwork that came from being the liason. Best not to bother her now.
Never in my life have I been more sure
Nobody's made me feel this way before
Never in my life have I been more sure
You're everything I wanted
He tried to calm his mind down by thinking of you again, and even though he didn't expect for it to even work.. it did.
He let his eyes close and imagined your smile behind those eyelids. The way you practically glowed everytime you let out a laugh, like a beam of light shining down a grey and stormy area.
The very same grey area that Spencer called home.
His brain wandered to the glint in your eyes as you looked into something that had you intrigued, it thought about the way the sun kissed your skin during a golden hour at the BAU office.
He daydreamed about your voice, a gentle yet firm octave, your syllables drawled– not seductively but gently. The way you spewed your share of intelligence through your lips, he loved it.
The way your eyes glistened a little lighter beneath the rays of light, the way your hair noticeably reflected back the orangey shine of the sun, and the way time just seemed to.. slow down.
Even though he knows time can't actually do that.
In his eyes, you broke physics, you bended time and space with your wonderful presence alone. That was how much you've changed his world entirely, to the point science felt less like fact and more like a variable you could switch out.
And that.. that was scary. That you made science pale in comparison to the logistics surrounding his surreal affection for you.
For the first time in his life, Spencer wanted scary, wanted change. Wanted someone to hold close even if it meant it was also someone to lose.
He wanted risky, just as long as you were the hazard.
You are my sun in my skies
You are the days in my nights baby
You're everything I wanted
You are the reason I smile
You put the worth in my while baby
You're everything I wanted
So with herculean effort, he pushes himself off his bum and reaches out to his flip phone. Dialing a familiar chain of numbers and waiting anxiously in the silence for the ringing to end.
"Hello? Spencer?" Your voice replies back, the 2 minute wait instantly becomes worth it the minute he hears it.
"Hey! Uh.. I just wanted to ask if you were free right now. There's this one library I know that's open.. twenty– twenty four seven." He offers, mentally cursing himself for stuttering with the number like an idiot.
"If you.. want.. I know it's late but.. if you want- I was well.. hoping we could go. Together."
The silence that follows after his words leaves him an anxious mess once more, he looks back onto the screen once, twice, and again to make sure you haven't hung up. Did you fall asleep? Are you stunned? Are you about to reject–
".. Are you asking me out on a date Spencer?" You replied cheekily, having deduced everything he tried keeping under wraps with just the tone of his voice. Was it that obvious?
He sucks in his lips awkwardly, a light shade of pink caressing his cheeks and ears before he finally responds. "Yeah– yes.. yes I am."
"... Then.. I'd love to."
Never in my life have I been more sure
You're everything I wanted.
written by @rocknreid
thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please don't forget to leave a like or reblog!
if you all have any song recs to base a spencer fic off of please drop them!! i need more ideas and i'm addicted with this whole "making a fic based off a song" stuff 😭😭
| ... aka the junkyard of everything i've composed 🎸
| everything that isn't underlined is unwritten!
SWINGIN' AND SWOONING - s5! casey novak x svu! reader, unestablished relationship, pining, casey teaches you the ropes on how to play baseball.
SWEET ON U! - s2! spencer reid x reader, established relationship, you and spencer spend his day off baking and being in love.
HOW I MET YOUR DAD - late seasons! spencer reid x bau! reader, established relationship (married), you retell you and spencer's love story to your child.
THE MAN WHO CANT BE MOVED - s10! spencer reid x ex bau! reader, the one that got away trope, spencer reconciles with an old flame he never moved on from (you)
seasons. - spencer reid x bau! reader, a fluffy cliche of how spencer falls in love with you a little more throughout every season. 4 + 1 fic format!
NO. 1 PARTY ANTHEM - spencer reid x bau! reader, drunk confessions and one too many shots with the resident genius himself, i cant classify this as fluff angst or smut but there IS tension, pining/admiring from spencer but he doesnt even know it himself.
balisong. - spencer reid x bau! reader, spencer contemplates his feelings for you and finds himself discovering the true extent of his adoration
SANTA BABY - spencer reid x reader, christmas with the reid family! mischief, destroyed gingerbread house, and a vivid retell of the story of Krampus
BEAU VISAGE - spencer reid x painter! reader, established relationship, you two paint each other for a date.
summary : in which spencer meets an old love he never really moved on from despite all these years.
cw/tw: both reader and spencer cant move on from their silly situationship, angst...? badly written angst i guess i haven't written in a while so bad english too. allusions to smut near the end but nothing crazy happens. canon divergence (maeve doesn't exist/never met spencer!) extremely cliche im so sorry😭😭
shayli's ted talk : man i haven't been on this app for a LONG time. i also just went through a horrible break up oh my god so thats what inspired this. obviously based on the song "the man who can't be moved" by the script, give it a listen if you will!
It's been too long.
He's kept track of course, 9 years and 10 months, nearing too close to the 10 year mark.
Except he isn't counting down on the days of an anniversary, or a special event like his child's birthday. He didn't have the luxury of such love in this world.
It was a painful reminder, that he was still here. Still waiting for his special somebody, his eyes flickering almost instantly to the glass doors whenever it makes it's iconic creak to notify everyone of someone's entrance.
He always looked, always hoped that maybe the silhouette he'd catch on the corner of his eye was you and not an intern navigating the building clumsily.
He still daydreamed about what you'd say during a briefing you would never come for, still wondered if you would deduce something the BAU had missed right beneath their nose.
Everytime he passed the library, your library, he has to hold back the urge to step into it. The place that was both heaven and hell at the same time, it was the closest he could be to you after your departure.
You were gone, your jokes were gone, your sweet laughter– that you sometimes claimed was the most bizarre sounding laugh ever– would never touch the walls of this building ever again, your comfort that he sought for now more than ever wasn't there anymore.
So now he finds himself in the quiet of his apartment, away from prying eyes and voices telling him to "forgive and forget". Not like he could physically forget anyway.
Slumped over his couch and mind too hazy to think straight, he reaches for his phone buried beneath case files that failed to distract him. Fingers diligently pressing each button until the screen showed to him what he had searched for– your number.
His fingers brush over the dial button, eyes burned by the way too bright screen of his outdated phone, his gaze fixed on your saved contact (that he wasn't sure you still owned anymore after everything).
What would happen if he called? If you answered?
Would you be overjoyed? Would you two laugh and reminisce about a time where you both were young and too much in love to even notice it?
Would you update him on the past 9 years he's missed of your life? Would you laugh and then reveal you were actually engaged?
The thought of that possibility kills him.
So he doesn't entertain his thoughts any longer, doesn't bother anymore on the "what if?" even if it still nags his mind. If he cant move on from you, he'll lie about it then. Lie that he could go on without you.
He tosses the flip phone away, as if physically trying to throw away the idea of ever wanting to call you. Murmuring to himself that this was a mistake, a slip of his careful mind.
But he knows deep down, that despite the reassurances he repeats like a mantra, it won't mean anything on the next late night he spends thinking about you.
Because how is he supposed to move on when he's still in love with you?
How long has it been?
Eight.. nine years? God, you hardly remembered anymore.
You swear that you've left behind that case, left behind the BAU. Yet you still find yourself thinking about what could've happened if you didn't quit after that night.
What would've happened if you stayed with Spencer.
'No.' You thought to yourself, trying to think of a new topic now that your mind was heading to familiar territory, a place that you knew would make you tear up in nostalgia.
You'd spent a nice portion of your paycheck on therapy, which didn't work one bit at all.
No matter how many sessions you've had, how many times you've told the therapist you're healed while lying right through your teeth. You still find yourself thinking about it all.
Thinking back to Spencer
About the late nights together in shared hotel rooms when the team had to double up, shared inside jokes that sounded like nonesense to anybody else– like it was a language only you two could speak so fluently.
Your relationship with Spencer couldn't just be friendly, casual friends didn't cradle you when you broke down because they were just being nice, they didn't hold you tight and begged you not to leave as they found themselves relapsing once more.
But what did it matter now anyways? You haven't been in contact for nearly a decade now, you shouldn't be still shuffling in bed because of a decision you made a long time ago.
You let your eyes close and allow your mind to drift back to him.
Just for tonight, you promise to yourself.
Then you'll wake up as the person you've become in these past 9 years. The person who "left" behind everything. The person who, in a way, is nothing like who you truly are.
You think back to the feeling of being in his embrace again, trying to recall the slight rasp beneath his voice and the way his lips moved when he went on a tangent about some fact you had never heard of until now.
A tear slips past your shut eyelids, it's soft as it travels down your cheek, a caress so gentle you hardly felt it if not for its wet texture. You pretend it never dropped in the first place.
Just like how you pretend Spencer never happened too.
Because if you let it become real, if you act like it meant everything, it'd consume you entirely. You'd be one "what if?" away before you act on your impulses and call him.
So you pretend, you act as if you didn't need him like the very breath in your lungs, you pretend that you didn't hold onto your blanket and pretend it was his shirt you clung onto.
You lie to yourself over and over again until the ache in your chest lifts, until the imagination ends and reality takes control with its cruel hand once more.
When the image you have of him in your head fades to black and your heart doesn't weigh as heavy anymore. You finally open your eyes and sit up.
You leave behind the sofa and an overwhelming amount of memories, passing by your phone that still had his saved contact displayed on its screen. His number's name forever saved as "Nerd".
You don't reach for your phone, but you do stare at the bright glowing screen for a minute and contemplate.
Then you brush off the urge like it didn't threaten to shake your world completely, tumbling into your bed that never felt like yours compared to your old mattress in Virginia.
You fall asleep soon after despite the stiff feeling of the cushion, hoping that Spencer wouldn't make a visit to your dreams.
Even though you know he always will.
Spencer's back here again.
At the corner where he first saw you. Not the version of you that you kept for colleagues and those who didn't have the guts to come nearer, not the version that he had imagined based off of your initial distance to the team.
But you.
You were once here in this exact place where he stood now, your shoes used to touch this same sidewalk every morning on your way to Quantico, your presence was once a constant in this area.
He had seen you, balancing two coffees diligently on your shaking hand with the biggest grin as you talked to your mom over the phone, trying to shrug off dating rumours with a nearly finished croissant in your mouth.
It looked like it was straight out of a romcom, a clumsy romantic lead trying to hold too much in their hands while skipping down the street. Joyous musical themes following behind them.
He didn't approach you in that exact moment, you weren't that close yet anyway, but that was one of his favourite memories of you because it was the first memorable one.
And now here he is, trying to relive that memory as if it was normal to imagine your figure right next to him on the street, walking side by side as you rambled on about this new movie.
He continues to walk back on forth on the same street, trying to let the dream last a little longer, clinging onto the tiny hope that you'd come around.
That you'd magically feel him here, waiting, loving, caring and you'd run right to this corner because you knew this was just for you.
But for the meanwhile, he let his mind take over with thoughts of you, as if he could reconstruct a whole new you with every single memory of you he'd collected through the years.
And like muscle memory, his feet guide him back to your library. The same building you both had spent hours in to the point you both got locked in after closing hours, the same building that held too many memories he had been trying to bury.
The same memories that he was now eager to dig back up.
No matter how hard he tried to resist, Spencer came back here once a year without fail, hoping against hope you'd find your way back there too. Back to him.
That maybe he'd find your face behind the gaps of a bookshelf grazing the classics collection. And you'd look back and your breath would hitch as you say hi.
And you'd say how he no longer looked like a teacher's assistant, but still had that quirky genius look. Maybe he'd compliment your more matured look, or maybe not even time has chipped away your colorfulness.
Or maybe he'd catch you in his peripheral but be too shy to wave you a polite greeting, perhaps he'd let you walk out those doors without a nod.
If you ever even thought about coming back here in the first place.
He wondered, did you miss him the way he missed you? Did you reach out for his figure during one of those colder nights? Did you–
Thud.
"Oh! I'm so sorry! Could you get the book for me?"
The voice from the other side of the shelf calls out, they must've pushed it off a little too hard in a vain attempt to try and take it off the double sided shelf.
"Yeah.. uh.. of course." He replies, a little too awkward for his liking, his daydream interrupted by an all too familiar voice.
As he crouches down for the book that now sat on the floor, he freezes a moment after making the connection. He couldn't have been imagining things right?
Just to confirm that he wasn't having a vivid auditory hallucination, he peeks through the gap the book left. And he can't help but let the book drop to the floor again.
That.. those were your eyes, your eyelashes, your hair– that was although styled new– was still your hair.
And it doesn't take too long for you to notice the silence and the book still not in your hand, it doesn't take you forever to notice those same set of curls atop his head, those brown eyes you'd soon begin to forget if not for this moment.
"S... Spence, hi."
You speak first, your eyes nearly as wide as his before your lips curl into a smile. Your laugh followed soon after– sounding a little older but still had that special tone that helped him recognize it instantly.
"It's.. been a while, hasn't it?" You ask once more, your smile still felt so warm in his chest even though there was a literal bookshelf dividing you
"Yeah.. a really long while, 9 years, 10 months, 23 days, 17 hours, 12 minutes and... 45 seconds. Now.. 46... 47.. 48.. you.. uh you get my point."
He rambles out so embarrassingly fast, feeling like he was 24 all over again and had just made it into the BAU. It took everything in him to keep his mouth shut any longer.
You only laughed again at his words, a sense of familiarity blooming in both your hearts. The beautiful feeling of relief that this connection hadn't been severed by the ways of life, that not even time had touched it.
"Do you.. wanna.. uh.. go on the other side of the bookshelf? Talk?"
Spencer almost immediately nods, taking up the offer before realizing you couldn't really seem him nod through the faint cracks of the wood and clearing his throat in slight embarrassment.
"I.. I'd love that." I love you. He wanted to say, but he kept it secret, just for a little longer. Till the moment felt right and the warm night light enveloped you both in a comfortable silence.
You both walked out the doors of that library, eager to leave behind the melancholic situation, you got to work with starting the conversation. Hoping Spencer would find it in him to reciprocate.
"So.. how's the BAU been?" You questioned, a smile on your face as the setting sun's rays casted an almost magical gleam above both of you.
"Oh... well it's not much different I guess. Emily.. she left and there's this new member. Her name's Kate, she's nice, you'd.. you'd love her."
He didn't say it out loud, but with the way he implied it in every word spoke much louder than anything said directly. He wanted you back, not just in his personal life, but back on the field too.
He wanted you to be his crime chasing partner again, the one person in the conference room who knew him to such an intimate extent.
You didn't know if you ever wanted to welcome back that life again, the thrill everytime you're called on a case, the fast paced and dangerous cases. You had learnt how to function without thriving on the adrenaline of going after an active serial killer.
You weren't sure if you could make such a drastic adjustment once more, but with Spencer involved in the deal. Maybe.. you could find it in yourself to be ready for that.
You two have been walking for hours, rekindling your fragile connection that's been growing stronger these past few hours by just simply talking.
You learnt that Spencer's love life is still as blank as ever, and that he's gotten 4 new fish during the years you've parted. All of them named after dead inventors and whatever historical figure he could twist into a playful name.
Spencer learns that your past few encounters in romance have been a complete bust (which he sighs in relief of in his head), and he learns that you've got a pet turtle that somehow can run.
And soon after you reach the last few minutes to his apartment door, you guys surprisingly run out of things to talk about.
So you say the next first thing that comes to mind.
".. Spence.. what.. what are we?" You ask carefully, looking directly in to his eyes as you stop him with your hand in the hallway of his apartment.
He freezes like a deer in headlights, the question having caught him so off guard admist his hunt for his apartment keys in his leather satchel.
He looks up at you with hope, with confusion, with.. excitement. A whole whirlwind of feelings all bubbling up in his chest like a giddy high school girl.
".. What do you want us to be?" He replies back carefully, choosing to take a somewhat safer route instead of outright saying something a little too absurd like "lovers".
The silence stretches over you both, not in the awkward way that made the atmosphere feel uncomfortable, but in a way that just.. couldn't be described as anything else but perfect. As plain as that description sounded, it was true.
".. I think.. I want us to be.. something.. more than just friends." You answered, your hands finding their place around his neck as he leaned in. Both your voices lowered to an intimate whisper.
".. Friends with benefits?" He joked with a grin, and you could only hit his shoulder for the badly timed joke.
".. Lovers?" He suggested this time more seriously, almost hesitantly, like the idea was a little rash given the lack of time you two have spent together after meeting again.
But maybe the near decade of yearning made up for lost time.
"Lovers." You echoed back, as if testing the way the word sounded on your tongue.
"Lovers?" He repeated back to you again, and you both could only giggle before you pull him in for a kiss. The kind that wasn't chaste but wasn't all for lust either.
It was passionate, a little hot, and definitely something you've wanted to do for a while. His hands sitting on your hips so naturally as if he belonged there, the moment only getting more heated until–
"Inside, now."
You didn't fight back at all when he ushered you inside his apartment.
written by @rocknreid .
thank you for reading! please dont forget to like or reblog if you enjoyed !
I'VE SEEN THIS TYPE OF STUFF BEFORE, in other blogs.. like these anon emoji identity systems
unfortunately, i don't really do that type of stuff, i forget too much too easily and i fear i'll lose track of who owns which emoji. plus i don't think i'm even known enough to have these systems, you'll be known as the og 🦓 anon one day though.. or maybe you'll be forgotten lol idk
actually on second thought nvm after some thorough 2 second contemplation, i now officially crown you as 🦓 anon, i expect you to talk to me everyday. this is ur duty now.
WHEN WILL YOU WRITEWHEN WILL YOU WRITEWHEN WILL YOU WRITEWHEN WILL YOU WRITEWHEN WILL YOU WRITEWHEN WILL YOU WRITE (no pressure though.. hehehaha...)
please PLEASE. i hace been a diligent waiter (whats the word for smn who waits idk) but on a more serious note.. come back.. be here.. ☹ i understand tho, ur phone getting broken by a cousin must SUCK and not in a good way.. get well soon phone! i need my spencer reid fix. WOAHHHOAAHH who said that??
thank yew very much anon for making me your dealer for spencer fics, but... i hate to break it to you.. but i think i'm shwoing him TOO much favouritism.. 2 fics of him.. im sorry but u gotta go cold turkey gang😓!! (jokejoke i have a spencer fic sitting in my drafts)
as for my phone thank you for your condolences, it is still broken, so i have to resort to my old phone that is so laggy and has only 15 GIGABYTES of storage, outrageous. apparently i gotta work for that new phone so woohoo... overtime..
I CAMT EVEN DOWNLOAD TIKTOK ON THIS HORRIBLE PHONE. i've just been watching yt shorts and have cried 3 times doing so.
so... my phone just broke after i let my little cousin have it for subway surfers, but i will not let that stop me. spencer reid fic is still on it's way.
