imagines and one shots about everyone's favorite genius!
instructions for requests found in first chapter :)
these imagines are my own ideas, so please respect that. if they're inspired by something, it will be indicated in the opening.
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𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 in which he wonders what it's like to be loved by you. inspired by the song "wonder" {shawn mendes}
word count: 1,701
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
"Reid. Reid. Reid!"
The boy genius snapped out of his trance with a startled shake, detaching his cheek from the folded hand it rested on. His eyes darted from the object of his affection to the urgent voice that spoke his name. Derek Morgan, who sat across from him, sighed with relief when he finally caught Spencer's attention. "About time. Whatcha thinking about?"
"Nothing," Spencer spoke softly, squirming in his seat. "I'm not thinking about anything."
Derek took a peek over his shoulder, to which his eyes were met with the scene of [y/full/n] and Emily Prentiss engaged in what appeared to be a humorous conversation. Right then, Derek knew what was consuming the boy's focus. He fully turned back around. "It's [y/n], isn't it?"
Spencer's brow furrowed, a desperate attempt to play off Derek's accurate guess. "What? No."
"Don't lie to me, kid," Derek jerked his thumb backwards. "She's right in your line of sight."
Spencer knew he wouldn't be able to keep his crush a secret for long. Being surrounded by profilers twenty-four seven, his exposure was inevitable. Yet, a part of him still wanted to hide his feelings. He figured his gawking may not have been subtle enough. He couldn't help himself, though. Spencer was infatuated with the girl, but not in a creepy, unsub fashion. When [y/full/n] joined the B.A.U. about a year ago, she stole Spencer's title as the youngest team member. Yet, that wasn't the only thing of his that she stole.
She stole his ears – as a certified genius himself, Spencer could recognize intelligence from a mile away. Whenever the girl spoke, she did so with such eloquence and poise that Spencer couldn't help but drown himself in every word. She captivated his attention whenever her sweet voice rang through the room. He found himself addicted to her stories, bound by her laugh, and whipped on her commentary. He'd listen to [y/n] talk for ages.
She stole his mouth – every time she conversed with him, Spencer found himself stumbling over his words. Sometimes–and these were the worst–he'd feel his throat close in on him, sentences imprisoned in his vocal chords as she stared at him for a response. Whenever Spencer spoke about her to his colleagues, he had nothing but kind things to say. Her name and a negative word were never to be found in the same sentence. If they were, but they never were from him, Spencer considered it blasphemy, for [y/n] only radiated goodness in his mind.
