Yandere Spencer Reid - Tumblr Posts
♡Saved (Spencer Reid-Criminal Minds)♡
Hey Bubs!!
This is a request from the lovely @pure-honeylamb !!! Sorry for the wait but I had to write this twice and I still don't 100% like it! I have so many thoughts though on this character even though I haven't watched Criminal Minds and have only read things and watched clips!! I deff wana write more of him (and yes I did listen to a Spencer playlist while writing this oop-) Reminder that my requests are open!!
✧1720 words ✧Spencer Reid x Reader ✧THEY/THEM Pronouns
Hope you enjoy Bubs! ~Mwah

A loud crash followed by multiple profanities rings out in the small apartment. Stirring from their slumber, (H/C) locks peek out from a knitted blanket before their owner pulls the blanket up further to completely cocoon themself.
Wiggling around a bit to try and go back to sleep, it turns futile and only angers (Y/N) as they grumble and begrudgingly sit up. The soft but thick blanket falls onto their lap as they rub at their (E/C) orbs, a bit too harsh, to try and rub the rest of their sleepiness away.
They sit there for a second, eyes half closed and sitting on a plush surface with warmth surrounding them as their mind disassociates from being yanked from dream land to the present.
Finally, being able to function a bit more as their brains cog’s start to spin and warm up, they look around to see the familiar sight of small stacks of books and papers littered around the ground and any other surface.
“Oh, did I wake you love?” Hearing an apologetic voice to their side, (Y/N) rolls their still foggy head to see a dishevelled Spencer Reid holding a half full sack of sugar.
(Y/N) can only manage some sort of noise, half grunt half groan, as they wave him off and eye the sugar.
“Sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I wanted to make some coffee, but there wasn’t any sugar left in the little bowl, so I tried to get the big packet we have stuffed in the back of the cupboard but then it got stuck and when I managed to yank it out- It… kinda… ripped and sugar spilt everywhere.”
Looking at the rambling man, it’s hard for (Y/N) to believe that this same mess of a man was the same one who had kidnapped them.
Still half asleep, (Y/N)’s brain can only grasp half of what he’s saying. Not wanting him to keep rambling as it’s still way to early from them to be awake, and also not wanting to hear him ramble on about statistics that they 100% know he’s going to start to do. (Y/n) brings their blanket covered hands to grab his.
Spencer stutters at the contact but (Y/N) just hauls their body up with the help of Spencer from the sofa they fell asleep on while watching their comfort series, which has now been turned off probably because of Reid himself, before wrapping the blanket around their shoulders and waddling to their room.
(Y/N) debates getting ready with the warm blanket, but ultimately throws it onto their bed when they think of it getting wet and heavy in the process.
Stumbling into the bathroom with less grace than they would like, (Y/N) turns on the tap to start their morning routine. Brushing their teeth half asleep, washing their face which wakes them up a bit more, slapping whatever skin care they use and are bothered putting on that morning before finishing with moisturiser.
Taking one look in the mirror, their lazy brain says to just leave their messy hair. Knotted from tossing and turning in their sleep, but the rational part of their brain reminds them that they will have to try to untangle those knots later when they’re worse. So, with distaste, they grab their brush and start the fight of brushing their (H/L) out.
(Y/N)’s arms already feel sore from trying to move them while asleep, so they throw any thought of styling or putting their hair up in any way out the window as they walk out the bathroom door a bit more elegantly than before.
Making sure to doge all the books and lose papers on the floor, (Y/N) walks into the kitchen to find Spencer putting the brightly coloured broom on the corner wall. There are two cups of coffee on the kitchen counter, one straight black in a plain dark navy mug, and another with just the correct ratio of milk and sugar that (Y/N) likes in a black mug with a printed white cat wearing a cowboy hat saying “Meow’dy”.
A (S/C) hand comes to pick the black cat mug by its body, (Y/N) seemingly unfazed by the scolding ceramic as they breathe in the warm scent of roasted beans to finally wake up their brain.
Blowing onto the swirling milky liquid to cool it down, (Y/N) takes a tentative sip to make sure they don’t burn their mouth and they almost sag at the delicious taste.
“You really know how to make good coffee.” (Y/N) mumbles, forcing themself not to gulp the liquid gold down as they remember the last time they had done that, they ended up with a burnt mouth as well as a scolding from Spencer.
“Thank you love. Actually, it’s all in the temperature you use for the roasting.” Spencer replies trying not to go into a deep ramble about how he makes coffee, his heart swelling at the thought of his darling enjoying something he made.
They both stand in comfortable silence, (Y/N) leaning their back onto the kitchen counter as the only sounds are blowing and sipping of coffee.
Eyeing the window on the other side of the flat, (E/C) eyes gaze over to the window looking down on the busy streets of Washington DC. There’s a thin fog over the world as the sun starts to peak its rays out and (Y/N) suspects the outside smells like rain, but they can’t test that theory once their eyes glance down to the bolts on the window sill.
It was hard to think about their life before this. To put it bluntly it was toxic and unbelievably draining, from their family and friends, to school and work, and god knows they only had a handful of people who gave them a lick of kindness in their life. It was draining every single day to the point of (Y/N) only having enough energy just to survive in their own body much less do the things they needed to do that day.
Taking another sip of coffee, their eyes roam over the man in front of them.
Was this life so much better than their old life though? Being trapped in a house with a hyper intelligent, awkward man with no social skills who works for the FBI and is a potential psychopath.
Spencer sends (Y/N) a smile when he sees them looking at them, but they just cover their face by tilting their cup up higher than necessary to their lips.
When (Y/N) was first kidnapped and brought here they were rightfully scared out of their mind, crying and bargaining and trying to get away from the person they thought were a friend.
Spencer had tried to calm them down in his own round about kind of way, shushing them softly with promises of him never hurting them, trying to explain everything but ultimately getting into the logistics of everything and just setting off (Y/N) more because of the confusion and his psychotic rantings.
Slowly though, (Y/N) started seeing that Reid wouldn’t hurt them, and they could now process the things he was rambling on about (mostly).
He kidnapped them to keep them away from the bad things, from the pain of their day-to-day life. He just wants to keep them safe and loved (his words not theirs).
Now while (Y/N) doesn’t agree with his methods, it’s not all that bad. He gives them their own space, their own room to decorate with whatever and they are free to do the same with the shared living area and kitchen. They get their favourite foods and snacks without asking, anything to fuel their hobbies, a coded phone and laptop so they can’t get help from anyone but keep themselves entertained as well as a flat screen TV and any gaming console their heart might desire. With the cherry on top of having no normal life stresses, no toxic family or friends, no school or job to kill themselves working over.
The only thing (Y/N) has to do is stay in the apartment and maybe indulge Reid when he rants once in a while. Reid would never force (Y/N) to interact with him, all he wants them to do is to be staying healthy by eating and indulging themselves in what he gives to them, but slowly (Y/N) likes to listen to his ranting. How his mind jumps from one thing to another while he goes through all the statistics, and once when they saw him play with some cards and Spencer had asked if they wanted to play, they bonded over multiple card games even though they were a bit pouty when he kept winning.
“I took today off; would you like to play cards over breakfast?” Spencer asks while moving over to the fridge to look over the contents.
(Y/N) knows this is bad, this whole situation is wrong. Even though Spencer wanted to keep them safe, the way he did it was wrong and immoral and (Y/N) doesn’t think they will every fully get over it.
But when they see him smile at them while they do something small, like thank him for food or listen to his ramblings or just come out of their room and indulge themself with the things he had bought to keep them occupied. (Y/N) lets themself just live in the moment.
“Sure.” Hesitating for a second, their eyes shoot down to their cup to try and hide their embarrassment. “Thank you for the coffee.” (Y/N) says softly.
“Of course love.” Taking (Y/N)’s empty cup from their hands, Spencer smiles down at them.
“You know I love you right?” (Y/N) nods, they know that obviously, he says it constantly. “You don’t have to love me back; I just want you happy.”
His brown eyes soften as he puts the cups down next to them and reaches up to cup their cheek, giving them enough time and space to avoid it but when they just stand there Spencers eyes turn wide in shock.
“Let’s play crazy eights?” (Y/N) asks, tilting their head slightly into his palm.
(Y/N) wouldn’t really say, or admit really, that Spencer had ‘saved’ them from their old life like he puts it.
But they would be okay, it would all be okay for them.