Did you know my love for @bookofreid is so big i can not even describe it.
Like my love for Bee is like the smell of old books in a used book shop. Fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. The smell of christmas and right after it rains.
My love for her could fill books on books and it would never be enough. Like shes a goddess and so sweet and i love her face.
Like if i could have her as a pocket sized friend to carry around i would. Like.
She deserves the whole world and so much more.
Like if anyone hurt her....haha...i would kill them. I would make sure they felt every minute of it, don't fuck with my loves.
Anyway i love my honey Bee and i'll be damned if she doesnt know it.
The end had finally come and despite the amount of time you spent preparing for it, it still felt like a punch in your stomach. The knot in your throat was painful and your lungs still struggled for air to breathe. Tears clouded your eyes and turned your vision blurry until his face was unrecognizable.
“You’re a coward,” you cried. “A fucking coward!”
Spencer cringed, not at the raise of your voice but at the truth behind your words. He was a coward. He had let himself fall for someone else when he had been in love with you. He had allowed himself to be stolen away by someone who seemed to appeal more to his intelligence whilst you always appealed to his emotional being.
You knew. Of course you knew. He may have been the genius but you weren’t daft. You noticed the secret phone calls he’d make early in the morning when he thought you were still asleep. You noticed when he’d take longer on his trips to grab dinner only to return with cold food. The way he smiled at his phone the way a love struck teenager would had caused an ache in your heart when you realized whoever was making him smile wasn’t you.
Did he feel guilty? Absolutely. You had been an absolute dream. You had given him love in ways he never knew existed and he had felt on top of the world with you beside him. He had someone so wonderful who was actually his. It wasn’t until someone at work made a passing comment on you not being able to keep up with his genius brain that the thought entered his mind. It wasn’t true. You were bright and had always kept up with him in conversation but it had been too late. The seed had been planted by someone who wasn’t even a friend to him.
You had always been brilliant. You were a novelist, someone whose words flowed as easily as your love did and he had easily been won over by your eloquent words. The way you spoke had an ethereal sense and your touch was like poetry across his skin. After a few years of being in love he had grown comfortable in your company. He knew what to expect when he came home; he would find someone who had given their heart entirely to him.
His conversations with Maeve on the other hand were new and thrilling. He allowed himself to stray, convincing himself that he only enjoyed their conversations because they were on roughly the same level of intellect. He couldn’t help himself once they met face to face. He had been her savior and she had fallen for him as quickly as you had. Spencer was a good man but good men still fall at times, and the feeling of someone needing him had given him a bigger rush than he had expected. He lost any dignity he had and eventually the two had found themselves in bed together in a way he’d only ever been with you.
Even then he remained quiet. He came home to you every night, crawling into bed and wrapping an arm around you. It was pointless then. Despite having you beside him all he could think of was what she had felt like beneath his fingers. He could feel the guilt rise in his throat, bitter as bile and he hated himself for it.
You could feel that something was off but your own fears stopped you from voicing it. His hugs didn’t last nearly as much, his kisses never lingered anymore. It seemed as though he didn’t even want to look at you at times. This was the man you loved and something was taking him from you.
You later found out it was a someone and it broke you. You had run into her outside of your apartment. You had returned home unexpectedly for your forgotten wallet that day. You were already on your way out, stuffing the wallet into your purse as you made your way towards the staircase when you crashed into her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you quickly apologized as you both straightened yourselves out. She smiled and shook her head, assuring you it was alright. Her smile was kind, just like the one Spencer had been so attracted to when it was on your face.
“That’s alright. Actually, do you mind helping me? I’m looking for Spencer Reid’s apartment but I seem to have forgotten the number of the apartment. You live on this floor don’t you?”
“You’re…looking for Spencer?” you asked quietly. “Are you a friend?”
She gave you a curious look.
“Sorry. He just doesn’t get many visitors if I’m being honest,” you quickly added. She nodded, understanding how odd it would be to see someone new. She had learned that Spencer was an eccentric soul and she didn’t doubt the fact he wouldn’t have many friends.
“We’re actually dating,” she replied with a smile.
That had been the last straw. He hadn’t even had the decency to be upfront about his situation. The woman in front of you didn’t even know you existed, and here she was waiting for Spencer at the apartment you shared.
“I’m sorry, but could you point me to his apartment?” she asked again. This time you merely nodded and gestured towards the door you had left seconds before. Without another thought you were sprinting down the steps, desperate to get out of the building.
Spencer had told her to meet him there. To meet at your home. The mere thought was enough to twist your stomach as you raced down the stairs.
“Y/N?!” Spencer exclaimed as he momentarily stopped mid-stride in surprise. The look of surprise was quickly replaced with one of utter guilt as he realized what you must have seen.
“Our home, Spencer,” you hissed as you shoved him out of your way. He tried to grab you but you pushed him away in a desperate need to get out of the situation. You ignored his calls, a part of you both relieved and devastated when he failed to follow you out the door.
He had chosen her.
Spencer had raced up the stairs. Maeve was standing outside of his door, patiently waiting for him to arrive. Her face had lit up the moment she caught sight of him but he didn’t reciprocate the feeling. Suddenly her touch felt cold, repulsive even as she threw her arms around him.
“I can’t,” he managed to breathe out. “I can’t do this.”
“Spencer? What are you talking about?” Maeve asked in confusion. He shook his head, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks.
“I can’t. I have a girlfriend. I love her. I should have never…” he stopped short as a sob shook his body at the thought of your pained expression. Maeve immediately stepped back. Not once had she thought to ask if he was single. He had seemed like too good of a guy to ever stray from someone.
“You’re…I’m…oh my god,” she gasped as her hand flew to her mouth in realization. “That woman. The one who just left. That was her?”
Spencer nodded, his hands wiping away at the tears that now streamed down his cheeks.
“I need to leave. I really do wish you the best, Spencer.”
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You walked until your legs wouldn’t carry you any further. You couldn’t get her face out of your mind. You couldn’t stop imagining them, Spencer holding her the way he had once held you and suddenly it was all too much to bear. Your body crumbled into itself as you let out a heart wrenched sob. People passing by only stared, wondering what could have caused you to fall against the small bakery storefront with such pain. A few minutes passed before an older woman emerged from the shop, a small raspberry danish in her hands. She handed it to you without a word and merely nodded when you managed to mutter a small ‘thanks’. She recognized the pain of heartbreak all too well.
It was hours before you finally found the strength to go back to the apartment. You had missed work in your despair and calculated that Spencer would still be at work if he had ever gone back. You silently prayed for an empty apartment and breathed a sigh of relief when you found it.
And so you packed all of your belongings. You threw your clothes into a suitcase without bothering to fold anything. You threw everything into a carry on bag, purposely leaving the picture frames of you and Spencer. They were things better left behind.
What you hadn’t expected was for Spencer to return home in the middle of your packing. He had taken the rest of the day off, searching for you at your workplace and your favorite spots in order to remedy things. He had been unsuccessful and had returned to the apartment only to find you emptying out your drawers.
So now he stood frozen at your words. You’d never once said a hurtful thing to him. Never once called him anything in a negative manner. He would have preferred anything to this. He would have been able to handle your anger, he would have been okay with being called a bastard, a low-life, a son of a bitch. But to be called a coward hurt more than he expected.
“I’m sorry,” he choked, the words falling on deaf ears. You had had enough. You had been dragged along for who knows how long now.
“Did you sleep with her?” you asked, your voice reaching a disturbing sense of calm. Spencer gulped, knowing well the voice you used when you had reached your limit.
“I…We…Yes.”
He didn’t try to deny it. You would have seen through him and a part of him knew that you already knew the answer. You had just been waiting to hear it from him.
“It was one time. It didn’t mean anything,” he added desperately, his voice rising an octave as he struggled to keep himself controlled. His heart sank at your bitter laugh.
“Didn’t mean anything? Spencer, I know you,” you replied, voice low and full of suppressed emotion. Still, Spencer could hear your lingering pain underneath. “Everything means something with you.”
His head spun as you grabbed your belongings. Your face was blank, something you had learned to do whenever you found yourself in unpleasant situations. Spencer had seen it at forced family dinners and whenever you were stuck with less than desirable company. But he himself had never been the cause of it. He reached for you, his strong hands grabbing onto your shoulders desperately. He couldn’t let you go.
“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, your cool exterior dropping for a second. He recoiled at the venom in your voice and immediately moved away, watching as you stormed out of the apartment you had both called home.
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Things had gone downhill for Spencer. He had lost Maeve, a woman who he thought he loved for a moment only to realize it had been infatuation. He had lost the respect of his team once they found out what he had done. They eventually moved past their initial disappointment, although JJ had been the most devastated at the news. She had always imagined Spencer as someone who was too kindhearted to do such a thing. He was someone she hoped Henry would grow up to be like. It hurt her to realize that his brain had stopped working during those moments. He had allowed the thrill of something new to entice him, and with his lack of love experience, hadn’t even truly realized what he had done until it was over.
What hurt the most was losing you. He hated himself for it. He blamed himself and rightly so. While JJ tried to excuse his behavior for naivety, he had to come face to face with the fact that cheating was a choice. He could have stopped it. Maybe deep down he would have realized his conscious was yelling at him to, only to be quieted by the adrenaline that came with new people and experiences.
He tried to reach out to you but you avoided him. Your number had been changed and he didn’t even know where you lived. Penelope had refused to help him locate you, claiming that as much as she loved him she had also loved you. She wasn’t about to intrude in your personal business no matter how tempted she was by Spencer’s tears.
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A few years passed and Spencer found himself still dreaming about you. He followed your work, buying every new book you came out with. You truly were a wonder. He’d often curl up on his couch and read the words you wrote, pretending that every sentence about love or forgiving had been a secret sent to him. He convinced himself you were speaking to him directly with these words. It was only in this fantasy that he ever found some peace.
He had stumbled into you one day purely by chance. He was visiting a new bookstore he had meant to check out but never had the chance to after being pulled away by cases for weeks. His heart rate sped up and his hands grew clammy as he realized it was you he was looking at. You were speaking to the manager of the store, your smile bright and eyes shining as you nodded at whatever he said. A sense of panic overtook him as he debated whether to stay and say hello or run out of the door before you saw him. Did you really still hate him after so long?
Whatever his choice was, it was too late. You had spotted him. He looked confused, his eyebrows knit together as he muttered something to himself. He appeared to be arguing with himself. You excused yourself from your current conversation and made your way over to him.
“Spence?”
His head snapped up at your voice. His throat closed and his eyes watered at hearing your voice say his name after so long. Eventually he swallowed and pushed through his nerves.
“Hello,” he managed to greet. Was he dreaming? You couldn’t actually be right in front of him. Not when he looked so disheveled and he hadn’t shaved in days.
“How have you been? Still saving the world?” you asked. Spencer couldn’t help but mirror your warm smile, realizing that there was no malice behind your question.
“Evil never takes a day off,” he replied. “What about you? Have you been good?”
“As good as I can be. I’m setting up a book signing. My last book was released a few days ago,” you answered.
“I know. I read it.”
“Let me guess. You went through it in…half an hour?” you asked teasingly. He blushed, remembering the way you used to watch him read. You’d simply sit and gaze up at him, claiming to love the way his eyes told everything he was feeling as he read.
“Twelve minutes to be exact,” he replied with a chuckle as he self-consciously pushed his longer hair behind his ear.
“I need to write longer books then,” you laughed, a genuine smile on your lips.
“No. Your books are beautiful just the way they are.”
The two of you eventually made your way to the cafe section of the store where Spencer ordered drinks for you both. He still remembered the way you liked to take your coffee and you couldn’t deny the small flutter in your stomach that came with being near him again.
The truth was that both of you were incapable of moving on from each other. You’d both thrown yourselves into your work after your relationship had fallen apart in a hopeless attempt to forget about each other. Memories lingered and feelings were never truly gone. They’d simply been hidden away in hopes that they would one day be rekindled.
The baristas watched as you sat for hours reminiscing. All sorts of resentment had faded with time. The time you had spent apart had been filled with personal growth and the honest appreciation for each other was evident. Spencer’s eyes refused to move from your face. He had lived long enough without looking into the eyes that had once made him feel so alive, and he found that a fire had lit in his heart when he came face to face with them again.
He could tell you felt the same. You unconsciously fidgeted with your hair, your thumb was caught in between your teeth as you tried not to laugh at his stories, your body leaned in closer when he brought up an especially romantic memory - all signs that you still held some feeling for him.
“Can I ask what your inspiration was for your last book?” Spencer asked suddenly as a teenager passed by with it in their hands.
“Forgiveness. Learning from your mistakes and making peace with yourself and others,” you replied honestly. “Why do you ask?”
“Some of the lines…they just…stood out,” he said. “They were things I swear I had heard before, like you had told them to me back when we were in love.”
He blushed as you stared at him, your head tilted to the side as you looked at him with curiosity.
“Sorry. I was probably just seeing what I wanted to see,” he hastily replied. He hung his head in shame and hid behind his growing hair. Of course he’d imagined it. He was always hoping that you would one day love him again.
Your hand gently reached out to touch his own fidgeting ones. He looked up at you in surprise at the physical action and felt his stomach break out into a whirlwind at the warm smile you gave.
As part of my 3,000 follower celebration, I decided to go with something called SPREAD THE LOVE, where I highlight a fellow CM writer, gush about how much I love them, maybe say my favorite work by them, and if they have one, highlight a masterlist for all of you lovelies to see! I also just have to add that if I finish this up, and you haven’t been featured, it is ONLY because I haven’t seen your lovely work.
P.S. These are in no particular order. I love you all equally lol <3
The next one up is the amazingly talented and beautiful Brenda! @bookofreid
Guess what? She was another writer who was writing before I was. The kind of author I looked at and went DUDE I want to write like this. For me to pick a favorite one shot would be impossible, there are so many and are honestly all amazing. The Scared of Flying drabble is adorable. Attention Seeking is so hot and sweet. Dance Lessons is amazing. Honestly just read all of it. You won’t regret it.
One of my favorite multifics from her though is Ramblings of an Introvert which can be found HERE! I absolutely LOVE the style it’s written in! Like LOVE!
If you want to read all of her drabbles and multifics and one-shots, they can be found on her masterlist HERE! Absolutely go and read all of her stuff and then leave her love and tell her how awesome she is! Thanks!
#4. “I’m too sober for this.” with Reid x Reader😉 Please and thank you! 💕💕
Enjoy mate!
…
Taking your seat, you looked up at the screen as Spencer dimmed the lights. The office was quiet this time of night, seeing as most of the agents had spent the week in the field. He’d decided that since you were new to the team and hadn’t found your way to fit in quite yet, that he’d try and find some common ground.
It was a sweet idea, the kindest thing anyone had done for you when being the newbie. And it helped that he was pretty, with perfect facial structure, deep, dark eyes and lips that… No, focus!
Spencer’s exact words had been ‘so, I gather you like cars’, which was true. You’d grown up around them your whole life and you weren’t a stranger to a socket and wrench either.
“I think you’ll love this,” he said excitedly as he picked up the remote and sat down. A great smile spread across your face as you tried to imagine all of the possible automotive action you could be about to witness, loving the idea that you might be able to talk shop with Spencer of all people.
The look of concentration on his face as he searched the remote for the correct controls allowed the light to cast a shadow across his cheeks. There was something about his face shape that was extremely attractive, his amazing cheekbones and jawline. His tongue slipped out to move across his lips before he drew it into bite lightly on. Stop it!
When Spencer hit the start button, the run-time flashed up. One hour and forty minutes. Could it be NASCAR? Could it be European Formula 1? Would it be a documentary on crashes or the life of a famous driver? It might even be a piece on the history of a specific manufacturer or something. The possibilities were endlessly tantalising… Then the title screen faded in, ‘Thermodynamics of Automotive Engineering’.
“So, what is this?” you asked with trepidation.
“It’s this great lecture I’d been meaning to watch on the thermodynamic properties of combustion engines,” he answered with glee.
An hour and forty minute math lecture? Really?
“I… I er…” you started trying to come up with words to fit your thoughts.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think…” you started again, trying to find a way of saying it politely “I’m too sober for this…”
Spencer looked at you, then back to the screen, his face turning a little red as he realised his error. His hand moved to the remote again but you took hold of it, smiling a little before sitting back to enjoy or endure the next hour and forty minutes.
“Maybe afterwards we could get that drink?” he asked as the title faded into a bustling lecture hall. All you could do was let your polite smile grow into a little chuckle.
