rae

she/they || 20 || queer spencer reid lover

[sherrysgirl]

i want to do an introduction on here but everyone’s usually so cute and i don’t have that in me at all.

but if you’re a big fan of yapping and spencer and emily and penelope and elle pls be mutuals with me 🙂‍↕️

[sherrysgirl]

this was another year of spencer reid not being my valentine </3

[sherrysgirl]

every time i remember that cat broke spencer’s ten year sobriety and had him believe he was sa’ed for years amongst other things, i crash out

[cherrymz17]

Spencer Reid the man you are

[sherrysgirl]

the concept of spencer reid buying an iphone for the sole purpose of just facetiming his partner and kid(s) while he’s away on a case 😥😥😥

[sherrysgirl]

i had an ask abt a second part of heather and i was going to start working on it but i was so busy but it’s been three months. so, now it feels like i’d be milking my 15 minutes of fame…

[siriuslylantsov]

be my valentine

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: in which, spencer asks you out after a hearty but incomplete info dump on the history of valentines day.

tags: fluff! idiots inlove, gn!reader, reader is briefly described as shorter than spencer, teasing!spencer, grumpy!reader, penelope is an angel and i love her so much, reader shitting on valentines day and raising some very valid points.

a/n: based on this request, second fic for the event!! i know its still four days till valentines day but! if i didnt get this done now it would've been late. i rewrote this THREE times... but i rlly like how this version came out! happy reading :)

wc: 2.1k

it's your lunch break and you’re glaring at yet another sappy couple that walks by you. grumbling, you take another bite of your blueberry muffin. spencer laughs from his seat in front of you, amused by how your lip curls into an irritated pout. the two of you had walked to a cafe, a brief reprieve away from the frenzied police department you were stationed at for this week's case. 

“motherfuckers,” you seethe, still chewing your food. “i hate valentine's day.”

he laughs again, his tone sarcastic, “really, i never would’ve guessed.”

your glare shifts to him as you cross your arms. his grin is still there, annoyingly persistent, you hate that it doesn't affect him as much as it should. if you told him this, he would’ve told you that it didn't pack much of a punch. 

you roll your eyes and continue with a heavy scoff, “it's just another fake holiday, you know. like mother's day. created by greeting card companies trying to commercialise a day that shouldn't even exist honestly. every day should be dedicated to showing your loved ones how much you care, not just 24 hours in the middle of february.”

he accepts your cynicism with a smirk, completely accustomed to it. he knows you don’t mean it, not entirely, you just like to rant. “you know valentines day actually goes back about 2000 years. i’m sure greeting card companies weren't around back then,” he corrects, biting his lip in suppression.

your eyes narrow into slits, feeling the faint shift in the air of an incoming info dump. you ignore the way you want to hear what he has to say and take a sip of your coffee instead. you stall to torture him a bit, it's funny how he squirms.

“really,” you drag out, stroking your chin in exaggerated contemplation. you stare at him knowingly, he wants to continue but he's waiting for you to give him the green light. you laugh quietly, mood already improved, “go on.”

spencer visibly brightens, sitting up straighter and hands springing into action. “well, valentine's day has a really fascinating and somewhat convoluted history,” he starts, almost giddily. “the earliest accepted theory can be traced back to the roman festival of lupercalia, which was celebrated from february 13th to 15th. it was a fertility festival dedicated to faunus, the roman god of agriculture, and it included a ritual where men would sacrifice a goat and a dog, then use strips of the goat’s hide to whip women-”

“wait, they used goat skin to whip women?” you interject, eyes widening incredulously.

“yes! they willingly lined up for it too, believing it would make them more fertile,” he explains, far too animated considering the context, but it's okay. you like his enthusiasm. 

you grimace, “weird.”

“right. however, the day of love that we now recognise was brought by st. valentine, though which valentine is unclear—there were at least three martyred saints by that name. the most famous story involves a priest in third-century rome who defied emperor claudius ii's orders by secretly performing marriages for young soldiers,” he pauses to take a breath. you use it to bring your coffee back up to your lips, hiding your smile.

“claudius believed single men made better warriors, so he banned them from marrying,” he clarifies to which you nod. “when valentine was caught, he was executed on february 14th, which is why he’s the namesake of the holiday. some versions of the story even say that he sent a letter to his jailer's daughter signed ‘from your valentine’ which could be the origin of the modern tradition.”

“huh,” you pick your lip in thought, spencer hides the way his eyes dart down to them as you do it. “but that’s still an execution, how did it-”

the shrill tone of your ringtone interrupts you. “mhm, okay,” you respond when you pick up the phone. “we’ll be right there.” 

spencer stares at you expectantly, reaching over to grab your bag. he secures it over his shoulder and stands up. 

“it was jj,” you explain, stuffing the last bits of muffin into your mouth. “wi’ness ‘howed up.”

the food-muffled words make him chuckle and hold out a hand for you to get up. you let him pull you up with a dramatic huff, still holding his hand as you dust crumbs from your lap. you realise it a little too late and let go with a start, frown returning when you realise he isn’t going to let you carry your bag.

the walk back only took about five minutes before but this time's slower pace makes it a longer ordeal. comfortable silence brackets the two of you until it doesn’t when spencer speaks up.

“so, there's actually a lot more to the history of valentine's day. for instance, how the day became one of romance instead of, as you said, one that marked a martyrdom. we could, i don't know, discuss this properly over dinner. or drinks? or ice cream, i know that you like ice cream-”

filler words... he’s nervous. amid his rambling, he doesn't realise that you’ve stopped in your tracks. 

“-we can do whatever you want, i don't mind.” when he looks beside him and doesn't find you, he turns around. he can scarcely read the expression on your face, he usually can. this causes a little bout of concern to bubble up, “what is it?”

“are you asking me out?” your question is immediate, blunt, as a confused crease forms between your eyebrows.

well shit, he was. his lips part as he processes what he just said, he looks a little like a deer in headlights the way he stares back at you. was that too much? are you mad? did you want him to ask you out? what if you say no? he should say something. what if he messes everything up? he can’t-

“spencer,” his name rings out softly, pulling him from his spiral. 

his eyes snap to yours, searching, desperate to read between the lines, to piece together what you’re thinking like he always does—except this time, he can’t. he squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again, “yes.”

he swallows hard and adds, “on a date.”

“i got that,” you murmur, stepping closer to him, and closing the distance that he unintentionally left.

his head dips, voice small. “i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

your head tilts slightly, studying him. “you didn’t.”

the reassurance eases him a little but not enough as the anxiety claws at him while he waits for your answer. your phone sounds again from your pocket, this time a text from morgan. you quickly type out a response–got lost, be there in 2. it's a pathetic excuse, if you focused, the station was in your direct eye line. but you needed to say something. 

“okay.”

he can't help the sign of relief that slips out of him, you giggle at the sound. when he looks at you again, he's unmeasurably happy to see your poorly concealed smile, breaking out in his own matching one. 

“yeah?” he asks sheepishly.

you nod, chewing your bottom lip, “yeah.”

your eyes squint at the corners, a side effect of the same grin that those sappy couples had been sporting, the same one that you’d been complaining about a little while ago. it makes you want to kick yourself, so you do the next best thing. you take hold of spencer's hand and drag yourself back to the pd. spencer shuffles somewhat behind you, trying to keep up with your stride. it doesn't take him long with those long legs of his.

his thumb strokes your knuckles gently–deliberately, you feel–but he pretends it's an unconscious action with the way his eyes are trained ahead. it makes you roll your eyes. when you near, you reluctantly let go of each other, the moment being the last time the two of you are alone for the rest of the day.

-

the team ends up solving the case a few hours later, taking the jet home where a valentines day baking spread is set up in the briefing room. all set up by the resident tech savvy. penelope tells you later that it took a whole week of convincing on her part, insisting that it would be quick and she’d clean up, and that everyone would get home to their own valentine's day plans in no time. 

there are a few heart-shaped helium balloons floating in the corners, and pink streamers in easy to reach places. the room is drastically more inviting, maybe the tones of fuschia and bubblegum have something to do with that. a cake and a bowl of suspiciously dyed punch reside on the table, along with pink plates and cups.

“penelope,” you gasp when you see them.

perfectly curated baskets of chocolate and cookies and associated items for everyone. you pick up the one with your name on it and inside you find: a candle, your favourite candy tied together with a little bow and a letter signed ‘happy valentines day, sweetheart. love, penny xx’. 

oh my god, you could kiss her. 

“it's like christmas,” emily muses from the other end of the table. you hear jj mutter something in agreement. you peek over at spencer, it's probably the hundredth time that you've snuck a glance his way. his eyes were already on you every other time, only now they were accompanied by a pair of red heart-shaped glasses, the clear plastic lenses offering a perfect view of his hazel orbs. the picture makes you laugh to yourself, you can barely hear it echoing from his end. 

-

about 30 minutes later, only the stragglers are left. in better words, the single people. the individuals with partners having rushed off to their own respective plans. you're making small talk with another girl who worked around the office when you feel a light hand on your shoulder, spencer nodding his head toward the elevator to signal your leave. you politely wish her goodbye and walk out with him. 

“cute glasses,” you tease, bumping his shoulder with yours, though the height difference makes it so you're nudging his upper arm. 

“yeah? i might get the lenses medicated, switch them out for my regular ones,” he jokes, his elbow nudging yours gently as he pushes the bridge of the glasses up the slope of his nose instinctively. 

“good idea,” you nod.

“you think?”

“mhm.” 

once again, he beats you to your bag, swiping it from your chair and carrying it along with his own. you meekly toy with the hem of your shirt as the two of you walk to the elevator. 

“so, bummer that neither of us have plans today. it’s so early,” you say, being blatantly obvious with what you're suggesting.

spencer only offers you an indifferent “yeah, bummer” in response, walking in when the doors slide open. when you look at him though, he's anything but indifferent, the corner of his lip pulling up in a crooked smile, irritatingly smug. you don't know where he gets off on being so at ease but the expression on his face makes you scowl as you follow him in. 

he is silent the whole ride down. you become increasingly annoyed, only faltering slightly when his hand reaches down to hold yours. his fingers thread between yours and you not-so subtly curl yours over his, ignoring the way he looks down at you. 

you try not to smile at the domestic picture of the two of you walking out hand in hand. thankfully the basement is empty. he pauses between your cars and mutters a quick “see you monday” before loosening his fingers and turning to walk away.

“spencer,” you groan, almost a whine as you squeeze his hand before he can let go.

he responds immediately, without missing a beat, “yes, angel.”

fuck.

you want to melt but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “would you like to do something tonight?” you grit out begrudgingly.

“i would love to,” he agrees, pulling you closer with your hand. your gaze darts to the two bag straps on his shoulder and you realise he had no intention of letting you go just like that. so you shove him, a little hard that he stumbles a bit. he huffs a laugh and you shake your head dismissively. 

he slowly, tentatively, dips down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. your eyes flutter shut at the contact. 

“how does thai food sound?” he asks, that same bashfulness creeping into his voice that you love so dearly. 

“sounds perfect.”

you share another sweet smile that would probably make you gag from an outside perspective but now it just makes you feel dizzy. he leads you back to his car, muttering something about how he’ll pick yours up tomorrow morning. you want to argue with him but that same dizzy feeling stops you.

you can't help the dreamy sigh that slips out when he connects your hands again over the centre console. thank god for st. valentine, you think.

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

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[sherrysgirl]

spencer headcanon!!!

when you’re out buying skincare, he’d definitely go through the ingredient lists and help you find something that will work best for you / help you with your concerns

[sherrysgirl]

i’m so busy i literally haven’t read a fanfic in three weeks. genuinely starting to show signs of withdrawal…

[notlongtolove]

burnt norton; the masterlist [complete]

Time past and time future What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. - t.s. eliot

🐚—can be read as standalone

part 1: time present and time past 🐚

situationship reader contemplates einstein's theory of relativity and wishes she could stop time as she watches spencer sleep—3.4k words

part 2: a perpetual possibility 🐚

situationship reader stays over at spencer's for the first time and breaks down in his bed—3.6k words

part 3: into the rose garden; for evermore

situationship reader and avoidant spencer are finally forced to confront their feelings—5.5k words

[sherrysgirl]

this might’ve been the highlight of my month i fear

[sherrysgirl]

heather

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

getting spencer’s sweaters is great, but seeing spencer give his sweater to someone else isn’t.

cw : jealous slightly insecure reader, reader isn’t ashley seaver’s biggest fan…

word count : 544

note : if there was an award for dropping short drabbles you’ve written in the span of twenty minutes but don’t even like, i’d be the winner. i didn’t proofread this and english isn’t my first language but enjoyyyy maybe??? happy belated third of december btw!! did anyone celebrate????

you loved the jet. it was spacious, the seats and the couch were comfortable, the little coffee / tea corner had expensive delicious coffee you definitely couldn’t afford on your own. everything about the jet was perfect except for the fact that you always got cold.

spencer always noticed that. it would take you approximately ten minutes until you started to shiver lightly. he didn’t understand why you never just wore an extra layer when you were quite literally freezing. he’d asked you about it plenty of times but you always dismissed him. a casual “it’s fine. i’m not that cold” would escape your lips. so instead of going back and forth with you, he secretly started packing an extra sweater of his for you. it’s not like you could ever say no to him. and that’s how during almost every jet trip, he’d offer you a sweater whenever you started feeling cold.

well, that was until ashley’s arrival…

she was amazing, beautiful, smart, young and so much more. truly a sight for sore eyes, you thought.

ashley was a sweetheart. everyone in the team adored her. even jj, who wasn’t even part of the team anymore, loved her. so, you were beyond confused on why you couldn’t warm up to her yet. maybe it’s because she’s somehow supposed to replace jj? or maybe because she’s landed a permanent job at the bau right after her graduation? you didn’t know.

but then it clicked.

you sat across from spencer on the jet, right next to emily. the second she had seen you at the bullpen she insisted that you sit next to each other on the jet as she had pictures she wanted to show you. jj had sent her adorable pictures of henry during their vacation. both you and emily had stared at the screen in complete awe, noting that after this case, you’d definitely have to visit jj and her son.

engrossed in your conversation with emily, you almost didn’t notice ashley walking by and sitting next to spencer. you tried your best faking a smile at her. the blonde started talking to spencer about whatnot. just the mere sight of her and the man you’ve loved for so long talking was enough to get your brain to shut down.

you excused yourself and got up to get a cup of coffee. and that’s when you saw it.

“is it always this cold in here?”, ashley asked with a giggle.

rhetorical question, of course.

spencer rummaged through his satchel, “oh! i have an extra sweater, if you’d like.”

she gladly accepted the sweater and thanked him.

you turned around, your eyes focusing on the drink you were making. you take a few sips once it’s done, trying to ignore that whole interaction you just witnessed.

“looks like you’re not the only one getting sweaters from pretty boy anymore.”, derek pointed out in a mere cocky whisper as he passed by you.

you rolled your eyes at him in an attempt to look unbothered, but you were bothered. you were so insanely bothered, you could’ve lost your mind.

he packed that sweater for you, but he gave it to her.

now you know why you hated her.

[sherrysgirl]

this year’s spotify wrapped was actually so underwhelming… like why is it late AND ugly?? pick a struggle !!

[sherrysgirl]

shipping spencer with cat is actually beyond insane like there’s definitely something wrong with the way you think and i’m genuinely not trying to be mean, i’m very concerned.

[sherrysgirl]

funfact!! this started out with me wanting to write abt spencer showing up unannounced at reader’s apartment and seeing them with their hair up for the first time ever cause they usually let it down but then i got too lazy. i might do that some time or someone else can omg that’d be cute

[heyvs]

[sherrysgirl]

drabble?? spencer checking up on sick!medialiaison!reader

cw : reader is sick (cold, flu, anything like that), reader is lowkey addicted to their phone, this is a self indulgent fic for anyone who’s sick rn because apparently ‘tis the damn season

word count : 564

note : i haven’t written a thing in nearly four years and even then my writing was mediocre at best. so, this will absolutely suck but please bear with me. this is just a silly little drabble i wrote cause i was bored. it’s also super boring and there’s absolutely nothing happening because i was too lazy to make it longer. baby steps

the constant loud knocking on your door had woken you up from your supposed nap, that according to the clock, had lasted a whole six hours. you sighed at having wasted a good chunk of your day.

turning around in your bed, you contemplated on opening the door. maybe whoever was standing there would give it up in a minute or two? you were way too sick to leave the comfort of your own bedroom and see anyone right now. unfortunately for you, the person on the other side of the door seemed to be testing your limits as their knocking kept getting louder and louder until you just couldn’t take it anymore.

with a groan you got out of your comfortable bed, left your bedroom and made your way to the door. you took a second to check how you looked in the mirror. tired. exhausted. sick. but it’s fine.

you opened the door to no one other than your colleague and friend spencer reid.

despite the fact that he’d been waiting for you to open the door for him for the past three and a half minutes, he still offered you that typical smile of his that always seemed to make you melt.

ever since you started working as a media liaison for the bau after jj left, you’ve had a soft spot for him. he might’ve been a bit hostile towards you the first couple of days after you were introduced to the team but you had learned about jj and how she was practically forced to leave the job. it hurt you that the team wasn’t entirely accepting of you but you had understood where they came from.

despite the slight hostility from the team at the beginning, you were able to grow close to them and by the time jj got back everyone had been attached to you as well. thankfully, jj had decided to come back as a profiler which meant you were able to keep your job and everyone was happy about how things had turned out.

“did i wake you up? you had me worried for a second. i was about to call morgan to kick your door”, he said as you gestured him to come in.

“why would you worry?”, you stifled a yawn, “didn’t hotch tell you i took the day off since if you couldn’t tell i’m very sick.”

“yes, he did. but i texted you to ask how you were doing and you never answered. which is unusual since you know, you’re always on that phone.”

you pretended to look offended, “wow that’s an insane thing to say. i was taking a nap!”

“a six hour nap?”, the man raised an eyebrow.

“i’m sick give me a break.”, you replied, “is that soup you’ve got here?”

“surprise!”, he lifted the bag up like you haven’t seen him hold it for the past three minutes then proceeded to put it on your kitchen counter.

“thanks, spencer. i didn’t think you’d drop by because of your whole germ thing.”, you teased, “which i completely get by the way. i’m just surprised.”

“well, you’re not contagious anymore. plus, i’ve got my hand sanitizer on me right now.”, spencer remarked.

you playfully rolled your eyes at him as you start heating up your soup.

“i mean it.”, you gave him a smile, “thanks.”

“anything for you.”

this sucks, don’t even talk to me i’m sick to my stomach. i might not be a good writer but at least i know abt being full of love and funny guys pls pls ❤️

[ssaemhotchner]

Wonderland (Taylor’s version) is so freaking good I never skip oh my god

[sherrysgirl]

REALLLL!!! keep it up and while we’re at it let’s please talk abt i wish you would tv