Criminalminds - Blog Posts
Perfection
SOME THINGS STAY.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤㅤ●ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ S. REID
SUMMARY ৎ୭ ever since spencer gave you that delicate little flower necklace, it’s barely left your neck. even when you're getting all dressed up for a fancy night out and it doesn't quite match, you’re not taking it off. it’s his gift—it’s special—and no way are you going anywhere without a piece of him close to your heart
WARNINGS ಇ. fluff— lots and lots of it, heart-eyes!spencer, emotional!spencer
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 930
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
You’re standing in front of the full-length mirror, carefully adjusting the straps of your dress as your heels click softly on the hardwood floor. It’s elegant, timeless, the kind of dress that makes you feel like you’re starring in some classic black-and-white film—only with better lighting.
The zipper is just out of reach, and so, in a soft voice tinted with playful affection, you call out, “Spence, can you zip me up?”
From down the hall, you hear the soft rustle of fabric and the quick, familiar shuffle of socked feet on hardwood. Moments later, Spencer appears behind you, looking unfairly beautiful in his suit and slightly crooked tie, his hair falling a little messily over his forehead. He has his glasses on, which always makes your heart stutter for no good reason.
“I can do that,” he says gently, already stepping closer.
His fingers brush your back as he slowly pulls the zipper upward, the motion achingly careful—as though he’s handling fine lace or some kind of sacred treasure. Which, knowing him, you’re pretty sure he thinks you are.
Once the zipper’s secured, you expect him to pull away. But instead, his hands settle lightly on your waist, and his eyes catch on the chain around your neck. His brows knit together as he leans forward to inspect the pendant more closely.
“You’re wearing the necklace I gave you,” he says softly, a surprised note in his voice.
You glance down at it in the mirror. It’s a simple silver chain, holding a small glass orb with a tiny, pressed forget-me-not encased inside. The gift he gave you months ago—after one of those long, exhausting stretches where he was gone on a case for ten days straight. He had handed it to you, sheepishly, in the middle of your shared kitchen, mumbling something about permanence and flowers and how he hoped you’d like it.
“I am,” you say, your smile soft and content.
Spencer tilts his head. “But… it doesn’t quite go with the neckline. I mean, aesthetically speaking, it interrupts the visual line of the bodice, and—” He pauses, recognizing your expression of amusement in the mirror. “Sorry, I was rambling.”
You giggle under your breath. “A little.”
He clears his throat, his fingers gently brushing against the clasp at the back of your neck. “I could take it off for you. Just for tonight. I’ll put it somewhere safe, I promise.”
But you immediately shoo his hands away, your tone light but firm. “Nope.”
He blinks. “What do you mean ‘nope’?”
“I mean no.” You turn to face him now, reaching up to fix his slightly crooked tie. “You gave it to me. It’s yours. I’m not taking it off.”
Spencer stares at you, blinking slowly, like he’s trying to process the words but his brain short-circuited somewhere in the middle.
“I…” He exhales. “But it doesn’t match—”
“Still,” you interrupt gently, smoothing your hands over his lapels. “It’s my favorite thing. You picked it out. You remembered what flower I said I liked when we watched that documentary about botanical symbolism and how they used to mean secret messages.” Your eyes meet his, full of warmth. “It’s the most you thing I own. So yeah—obviously, I’m not taking it off. Ever.”
And that’s it. That’s the moment Spencer Reid absolutely melts into a puddle of goo on the bedroom floor. His eyes go glassy, his mouth opening just enough to say something—anything—but no words come out. Just a breath. A shaky, wonderstruck breath.
“You remembered I said that?” he murmurs, like he still can’t quite believe it.
“Of course I did. You’re you.”
He laughs, quiet and breathless, before pulling you into a gentle hug. His arms wrap around you tightly, almost like he’s afraid if he lets go, the moment might dissolve. “You’re unbelievable,” he whispers into your hair.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He chuckles, and you feel his lips press to the top of your head. “No. It’s the best thing.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Spencer walks into the bullpen looking like a man who just witnessed actual magic.
“Someone’s glowing,” Emily teases as he drops his bag by his desk. “Did the gala have an open bar or did your girlfriend finally admit she’s secretly a time traveler?”
“She wore the necklace I gave her,” Spencer says, completely unprompted. He’s not even looking at anyone. He just says it with this dazed little smile on his face.
“Oh?” JJ glances over. “The pressed flower one?”
“Yeah,” Spencer nods, adjusting his satchel strap unnecessarily. “It didn’t match her dress at all. Like, it was totally off. I offered to take it off for her, but she wouldn’t let me. She said…” He trails off for a moment, eyes unfocused, like he’s reliving it all over again. “She said it was my gift, so she’s never taking it off. Ever.”
There’s a collective pause around the bullpen.
And then—
“Awwwwwww!” comes in stereo from Garcia and JJ.
“God, that’s so disgustingly cute,” Emily says, sipping her coffee with a smirk. “How are you not married yet?”
“I love love,” Penelope declares, dramatically clutching her heart. “You’ve got the heart-eyes going so hard, Doctor Reid.”
Spencer just shrugs, a soft smile still pulling at his lips. “I guess I do.”
There’s a long pause. Then, almost absently, he adds: “I think I’m going to get her another one. One for every flower she’s ever told me about.”
And just like that, Emily squeals and Garcia nearly falls off her chair.
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