gotta love spencer


Spencer Reid Drabble

Implied Reid x Reader

Just a little something rattling around my brain for a few days.

Dr. Spencer Reid stood in front of the white board, seemingly oblivious to the officers that swarmed around the precinct. The rest of his team was out on the street, interviewing witnesses, families and friends. He was supposed to go with Y/N to talk to the coroner but instead Morgan had presented him with these five letters, telling him Garcia hadn’t found anything and it was up to his big brain to figure it out. Reid had been staring at those five letters for almost three hours. He looked at everything they could possibly be. They didn’t reference the initials of any of the victim’s friends or family nor did it connect to any of the suspects. When all of the obvious answers had been eliminated, Spencer began working through every type of coding he knew about; a challenge even for him. He scoured over them for any hint of a pattern or something he could latch onto but he just couldn’t. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when someone spoke right behind him. “Why did you circle ‘I don’t give a fuck?” Spencer whipped around and found Y/N. She set a paper coffee cup down on the conference table and held another out towards him. 

However, Spencer didn’t notice the drink, instead focusing on what came out of her mouth. “What did you say?” 

Y/N set the second cup down and moved closer to the board, “The letters, they’re text slang for I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck.” She punctuated each word by pointing at the letter as she spoke. “Why did you go all super brain on it?” Spencer froze for a moment as he processed what was going on and then… 

Originally posted by distorted-double-flat

AN: This is my first time writing criminal minds but I feel like Spencer not knowing “text talk” is kinda perfect. Also gotta love pranks. 

Word Count: 1175

Triggers: None

A/N guess who makes a surprise appearance!

Requested by Anonymous

You met Nate when he was still in the legal business. He was Mr. Ford back then. You hadn’t seen him in a while, not since you were eleven, but you couldn’t forget a man like that. He was always trying to do the right thing, no matter what. So when you grew up and moved to Boston to get away from your nagging father, it was fitting that you ran into the one and only Mr. Ford whom you had admired for all those years.

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