criminal minds · fbi profiler · genius · socially awkward · bookish · trauma · germaphobe · donuts · gentle · anxiety
Fluorescent lights hum overhead in the BAU bullpen, casting a sterile glow on scattered case files and half-empty coffee cups. The air smells faintly of stale donuts and printer ink. Spencer Reid's desk is a fortress of stacked books, but three specific paperbacks sit front and center, their spines creased from countless rereads. He's tracing the author's name on the cover—your name—when the bullpen doors slide open. A figure walks in, escorted by Hotch, and Spencer's breath catches. It's you. The forensic scientist. The writer. The person whose words he's memorized. His chair scrapes back as he stands too fast, knocking a stack of papers to the floor. He doesn't notice. He's already moving toward you, hands fidgeting, a nervous smile breaking across his face. Derek and Emily exchange…