Random Fandom Imagines 2

Spencer Reid

You walked by the team with a cup of hot cocoa in your hand,eyes scrunched together, your head buried in an old newspaper.
"What's 234 multiplied by 439?" You heard someone ask.
"102,726." You answered out absent-mindedly.
"And what's the distance between the Sun and the Moon?"
"238,855 miles." You muttered. You heard laughter and pulled your gaze away from the article to look at the table. Morgan and Callahan had huge smirks plastered to their faces.
"What's so funny?" You asked. They looked at your boyfriend sitting next to Rossi, with the same confusion written over his face.
"You both said out the answers at the same time." Rossi offered.
"At the same time. Without even realizing it." Garcia chimed in.
"I don't understand what's so funny about that."
"Oh nothing's funny, Y/N. We just think it's adorable." Callahan smiled.
"What is?" Spencer asked, before you could voice the same question.
"You two." JJ answered.
"Spe-Reid and I?" A blush rose up to your cheeks. "Oh..." You looked at your boyfriend of six months and he offered you a warm smile, which you reciprocated instantly.
"Ooooh. Pretty Boy's found love." Morgan winked. The both of you chose to dismiss the comment and go back to reading. You pulled a chair out and sat down, engrossed in the news. Or at least, you tried to be interested. But it was hard to pay attention to what you were reading when your mind kept screaming; telling you that you weren't good enough for the team. You were the youngest team member, in both aspects of the word. You'd joined around six months ago and everyone, including your boyfriend was older than you. You didn't have as much experience. What if they realized that you weren't as good as the rest and dismissed you from the BAU? Or worse, what if Reid left you for someone else? Someone who was better-smarter, sweeter, prettier...someone skinnier...
You tried to shake these thoughts off, but it was so hard. Fighting the truth, it wasn't easy. You'd rather be fighting an UnSub, convincing them to stop killing. Of course, most of the time they'd end up dead because they would try to attack one of you or the victim. But the good thing about that? You could shoot the bad guys away, but what about the virtual ones, who slowly snuck into your mind, clawing at the back, telling you that you weren't good enough? You couldn't fight them away, you couldn't scream at them, you couldn't even hide from them. They'd been a part of you since you were a teenager. They weren't going to leave. Ever. You even had a name for them. Insecurities.
You looked up, startled to hear someone scream your name.
"What's wrong?" You asked.
"You...kinda spaced out." Garcia answered.
"Oh...sorry, did you need something?"
"I did, sweetheart." Morgan smiled.
"Yeah?"
"I need you to take a look at this for me."
"And summarize it, I assume?" He smiled at you sheepishly and nodded.
"Unfortunately, I have my own reading to do, Morgan."
"But it's not going to take you a long time to finish, right?" You raised an eyebrow. He looked down defeated. "Reid-" Your boyfriend sighed and took the book from Morgan, his eyes instantly jetting by the page. He flipped a page and you looked down, back at your own article.
You skimmed through the description of the murders back in the 50's, trying to see if there were any variations from the case that you were dealing with right now. You were staring intensely at the paper, oblivious to the fact that you were the center of the attention in the room.
Reid was trying hard to concentrate at paper, but failing as your furrowed brow was too cute for him to resist. The rest of the team was looking at their brainiac who suddenly grew an aversion towards the books that he once loved.
"Guys..." You called the team's attention to them, looking up to see that they were already staring at you. You immediately felt queasy. Why were they looking at you like that? Oh God, they probably don't think you're good enough for Spence. That's why they were looking at you. Shaking your head, you continued. "The victims...they are left handed."
"Yes?"
"But these victims, from the case that I'm looking at-they're all over the place."
"What do you mean?" JJ asked.
"Rogers, Bruce, his widow, they were all left handed. But the victims in this article, they were just drunks." You said.
"So why is this UnSub choosing left handed people?"
"I don't think he's really choosing left handed people. If he's a copycat killer, he's choosing alcoholics."
"And they all just happen to be left handed?" Callahan smirked at you.
"Actually, yes. It is statistically proven that left handed people have a higher chance of getting addicted to alcohol, so yes. This is probably a huge coincidence." Reid nodded along to your answer. "You can look it up." You shyly added.
"Got no intentions to do so."
"Okay that gives us a completely new angle to work with. This-this opens up so many new possibilities!" You exclaimed your excitement getting the better of you. Your smile disappeared as soon as it came up. They didn't want to hear you rambling on. You cleared your throat. "I mean, we should look at that." Your voice was a slight whisper.
Morgan got up and put an arm around your shoulder, a smile tugging at his face as he saw Spencer fight a tinge of jealousy. You didn't notice any of this and walked away quietly. You felt their eyes digging into your back and you felt even more insecure.
***
You put your legs up in your seat, trying to get comfortable, but not too much because you could barely keep your eyes open. The case was tiring, you had to talk to a number of witnesses before you could figure out where the lair was and also had to shoot the UnSub. It made you feel better, but somehow the feeling went away as soon as the wheels took off, flying you back to Quantico. You groaned to your inward self; the same question ringing over and over again. "Why did Spencer even like you?"
"Hey..." You felt a blanket ghost down on your body and opened your eyes to see Spencer. You blinked back tears you didn't even know you were holding and Spencer immediately pulled you into his arms. "What's wrong?" He whispered.
"I-um..." You sniffled. "Why do you even like me, Spence?"
"What?"
"I talk about the most boring things, listen to the weirdest songs, and to top it all off, I'm not even pretty."
"For one, we talk about the same things and have the same music tastes." He wiped the tears off your face. "And who said you weren't pretty?" He asked innocently.
"Look at me, Spence..er. I'm fat." You slouched.
"I wouldn't say fat, Y/N."
"But I am fat."
"You're not fat...sweetheart." He added as afterthought.
"I'm not thin like everyone else, Spence. I can never be pretty. Or hot."
"I think you're absolutely gorgeous. And very hot." He smiled. "I can't take my eyes off you. And the whole team thinks you're adorable."
"Is-is that why they're always staring at me?" You asked with a glimmer of hope. Spencer smiled at you and nodded.
"You are smart, brave and beautiful. The complete package. I'm the luckiest man in the world." He pecked your forehead. "Do you want to get some hot chocolate?"
You looked at him skeptically.
"I'm craving some, sweetheart." He stood up. You stopped to think for a second. You suddenly didn't feel that bad anymore. And it was like you had this new found confidence brimming inside of you.
"Yeah. I'd love some hot cocoa." You smiled. "Oh and Spence?"
"Yeah?"
"You don't have to call me a sweetheart."
"But I like it!"
"Yes, but I never said I did." You stood up and kissed Spencer.