filterred

Rooming with Reid

Idk if you’re taking requests but if you remember the episode of Criminal Minds where they go to Alaska and Morgan refuses to room with Reid, could you do an imagine based on that episode where the reader and Reid end up rooming together, they both like each other but don’t know, maybe the others know and were trying to get them together by making them room together.

I can most certainly do this, @going2heck!  Thank you so very much for being so patient with me.  Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!


“Only 4?” Spencer inquires.

“I’m not roomin’ with Reid,” Morgan says.

Furrowing his brow as he cranes his neck back, the team snickers lightly as Spencer’s face drops.  You couldn’t stand how the team treated him sometimes, how they just thought he was a small child you couldn’t get to stop talking.

“I’ll room with him,” you speak up.

As everyone turns their gaze to you, Hotch nods and adds, “And I can bunk with Rossi.  The rest of you, get some sleep.”

Grabbing your bag as you start for the stairs, you turn around and smile lightly, Spencer’s face still very confused as you stop midway up the steps.

“You comin’, roomie?” you ask.

“Oh…oh yeah.  Sorry.  Coming,” he says, scrambling for his bag as he hurriedly rushes to catch up with you.

“Anyone think she’d be that bold?” J.J. asks, her eyebrows hiked in the air as Garcia claps her hands lightly in front of her.

“No, no, no!  But it’s awesome,” she groans, balling her hands up into fists and lifting her face towards the ceiling.

“Technically, they shouldn’t be rooming together because of their opposite genders,” Rossi starts, shooting Hotch a playful glance.

But Hotch wasn’t paying attention.  He was smiling as he watched the two of you talk lowly to each other as you ascended the steps to the rooms upstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You don’t have to room with me, you know,” Spencer starts as he closes the room door behind him, “I know that my incessant talking and my late night habits get on people’s nerves.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you survey the room, realizing there’s only one queen size bed alongside the wall, with a little sitting area available harboring a chaise lounge.

Walking over and setting your stuff next to the chaise, you sit down as you begin to rummage around in your bag.

“So, um…where do you wanna sleep?” Spencer asks, fiddling with his hands as you flicker your gaze up at him.

“The chaise is fine,” you say, patting the microfiber material.

“No, no, no,” Spencer says, shaking his head as he walks towards you, “no, please…you take the bed.  I’ll be up late reading and the window will give me some light.”

“It’s pitch black outside, the bedside lamp will give you light to read,” you say matter-of-factly, motioning with your finger over to the lone lamp beside the bed.

“Please…don’t sleep on the couch,” Spencer says.

“It’s a chaise,” you state, smirking at him as he furrows his brow at being corrected, “…and it’s fine.  I sleep on my couch at home more than I do my bed, so it’ll feel like home to me anyway.”

As he studies your face, crouching down as he sits on the floor, you finally pull your pajamas free as you stand to your feet, walking towards the bathroom as you open the door.

“Just give me a second to change,” you muse.

Stepping out a few minutes later, your flannel pajama bottoms flowing lightly as you begin to walk across the room, you see Spencer sitting on the chaise, his suitcase sprawled out across the cushions as you search for your bag, sighing lightly when you see it on the bed.

“Spencer…” you say, looking back at him as he smiles at you sheepishly.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” he states.

“Chaise,” you correct.

“…and why not?” you add as an afterthought.

“Because,” Spencer states.

“Because why?”

“Because I’m the guy.  The guy’s don’t let the girl’s sleep on the couches,” he says.

“Chaises,” you correct again.

“The whatevers!” Spencer yelps.

Smiling as you shake your head, you sit on the edge of the bed as you wring your fingers within your pajama bottoms.

“Well, what if the girl feels more comfortable on the couch?” you ask.

“Chaise,” Spencer corrects you, a sly smirk playing across his face as you snicker and shake your head.

“I would probably ask her why she felt that way,” he then answers.

“What if she said that she was used to it?” you ask.

“I would ask her why,” Spencer says, pausing to look up at you as your eyes avoid his gaze.

“What if I said it’s because I sleep on the couch at home…” you trail off.

“I would ask you why you don’t sleep in your own bed,” Spencer offers, his body now turned completely towards you as you swallow hard, his hazel eyes raking up and down your body, no doubt profiling your every move to try and figure out what is happening.

“What if I told you it’s because my bed feels lonely at night?” you offer, your voice barely above a whisper before letting out a deep sigh.

Hearing Spencer move, you hear light footsteps headed your way as the bed sinks beside you, a warmth of body heat radiating on your right side as you see Spencer’s hand creep into view, settling on your knee just as a tear falls from your eye and onto the top of his hand.

“I would tell you that I’m right over there on the couch, so that you wouldn’t feel so lonely,” Spencer says lowly.

“Chaise,” you sniffle, earning a chuckle from Spencer as you bring your hand to your eye, wiping the tears away as you swallow hard.

“Please just let me sleep on the chaise,” you beg, your voice nothing but a hushed whisper.

“No,” Spencer whispers back, shaking his head as you lift your lightly reddened gaze to his.

“Then I’ll stay up with you,” you state, your voice getting a bit stronger as your emotions begin to subside.

“You need rest,” Spencer coos.

“So do you, but you don’t see me trying to get you to do what I want,” you retort, a slight edge to your voice.

“And what is it you want, Y/N?” Spencer asks.

It was the first time you’d ever heard him use your first name.

Clenching your jaw, your mind whirls with all of the things you had dreamt of him doing to you, from hugging you close to grinding on his face.

“I…um…”

Letting out a shaky breath as Spencer’s knowing eyes lock onto your lips, you watch as his tongue darts out ever so quickly before fluttering his gaze back up to yours.

“Y/N?” he asks.

Snapping you back into reality, you take in a deep breath through your nose as you say, “Everything.”

Seeing the confusion waft over Spencer’s face, you feel your hands shaking as your mouth begins to spew useless knowledge before your mind can filter it out.

“I want you to hug me…and kiss me…and take me to dinners and dance with me in the moonlight.  I want you to surprise me with bubble baths and take showers with me.  I want to wake up next to you and kiss your morning breath as I stumble out to make us coffee.  I want to go on dates with you and feel your hand within mine.  I want you to push me down on the bed and ravage my body with your mouth until there is nothing in this world that I know besides your name falling from my lips.  I want your all, your everything.  Your future and your children and your elderly age.  I want to take care of you when you’re sick and give birth to your sons.  I want to cook you dinners we never eat because you can’t keep your hands off of me.  I want to worry over you when you go to work and I’m stuck behind because we can’t work together in the field.  I want your kisses and tears and anger and arguments and happiness and tender moments and random facts and useless knowledge…”

Breathing heavily as your eyes dance quickly over his face, your heart pounding so hard you were sure it would tear your sternum in two, you close your eyes and bow your head as you finish your sentiment.

“But most of all?  I want your love…because you already have mine.”

Breathing in and out, your breaths shallow and ragged as you feel the sting of the silence bubble at the back of your eyes, you find yourself shooting to your feet as you begin to look around the room.

“I’m sorry.  I, uh…I should’ve-…um…”

Feeling your world close in on you as your embarrassment clenches down on your heart, you feel two strong hands grasp your upper arms as Spencer’s misty face comes into view.

Was he crying?

“Oh, Y/N…” you hear him say.

And before you could register what was going on, his lips were on yours, spiraling you into a mindset where everything stopped and nothing was apparent, save for his tender, warm, wet touch against your lips as his tongue slowly parts them open, guiding itself in as your hands slowly inch their way to the back of his neck, your fingers entangling themselves into the under-curls of his moppy brown hair.

Pulling away, your lungs breathless as you feel him press a kiss to your forehead, your body gets pulled flush to his as you bring your hands down, running them over his shoulders before resting them on his chest, his heart pounding underneath your palms as you nuzzle your head into his body.

And as the two of you stand there, his body slowly wrapping around yours as the two of you lightly sway in the dim fluorescent light of the Alaskan Inn, for a brief moment the serial killers and the gruesome killings fall into the background as your bodies slowly movie in tandem, with Spencer’s hands protectively splaying across your back as you hear him mutter, “I love you, too, Y/N.”

Yesterday @musicturnsintothinair
came over to Paris, to spend the afternoon with me! We had such a great time! I love everything we do together, and I hate the fact that we don’t live in the same city..
Also we gossiped about some of you guys! 🌝
I felt so down about being back to France, but then you came over and as usual you made everything better!
I LOVE YOU AGENT!
We look awful in this picture, but you know what, fuck it! , we enjoyed our afternoon.

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