Out in the Cold

“No!” Spencer heard himself yell as he watched his fiancée plunge through the ice into the freezing water below. All of a sudden everything seemed to slow down as he watched Hotch dive in after her and saw Morgan and Rossi run to the side of the lake eager to do something. All Spencer could do was stand there. His hands started to shake either from the cold or suspense, he couldn’t tell.

Suddenly, a loud noise was heard as the two FBI agents emerged from the surface. Hotch looked to be freezing but Y/N wasn’t moving. This sight caused Spencer to run to side of the lake where Rossi and Morgan were helping Hotch get Y/N out of the lake.

Spencer fell to his knees beside her as Morgan frantically did CPR to try and revive her. His ears started to ring so much that he almost couldn’t hear Morgan count his chest compressions.

Y/N’s eyes flung open and she turned to the side to violently cough all the water from her lungs. A gasp of relief escaped Spencer and his head hung bonelessly in relief. He heard equal sounds of relief from his Unit Chief and teammates next to him.

The next he thing he knows Rossi is helping Y/N stand up and is escorting her to the ambulance with Hotch following close behind. Spencer stays close to Y/N as she is tended by the paramedic in the ambulance, his eyes never leaving her face.

His eyes are only torn away when the sound of a car arriving enters the area. He sees JJ, Emily and the chief detective of their case get out of the SUV. His eyes move to Y/N as he watches her get up from the back of the ambulance and meet JJ and Emily. The sight of the three of them hugging becomes blurry as his eyes start to tear up and his hands start to shake and this time he knows it’s not from the cold. She could have died. He could have lost her. Just the thought made his chest clench tightly. The worst case scenarios plague his mind like the cold air clings to his hands and face.

He feels a hand pat his back and blinks his tears away and turns to see Derek. His face is soft and his eyes are sympathetic as he looks from Spencer to Y/N.

“She’s going to be okay, Pretty Boy.” He says softly, turning back to Spencer once more. Spencer bites his lip and nods, “It’s just..”, he swallows the lump that’s in his throat but is unable to finish.

“I know”, Derek pats his back gently, “I know”.

Back on the jet, a couple of hours later, Spencer is running one of his hands through Y/N’s hair as she sleeps in his lap while the other balances a book. His hand stops as he feels movement he looks to see Y/N sitting up , nestled against his side. She smiles at him softly, and like a knee-jerk reaction, a smile also spreads across his face.

“Hey.” She says, her voice quiet and hoarse from the coughing she did earlier.

“Hey.” He echoes as he leans forward and nuzzles his nose gently against hers like he knows she loves. He’s not dissapointed as her smile grows wider.

The books in his lap is replaced by her as they wrap their arms around each other. Her face feels cold against his neck but he is still filled with the warmth that her presence always gives him.

“I love you.” She murmurs, the warmth in his heart increases ten fold and he tightens his arms around.

“I love you too.” The words aren’t enough for how he is actually feeling but they’ll have to do.

The bad memories and worst case scenarios from earlier are now the only ones out in the cold.

End to Denial

A/N: An anon request for a different perspective on a fic I did called Me or Her, where the reader tells Spencer he has to choose between her and Maeve. The anon wanted it from Spencer’s POV. 

                                                              —-

Finally! After what felt like decades, but was probably only a year and a half, Spencer had found someone that could help his intense migraines. “Y/N! I think I found someone that can help me with my migraines.”

She spun around, knowing how hard it had been on him to be in such pain without knowing the cause. “Who is it?”

Spencer had done so much searching that people had started to bleed into one another, but this one stood out; she was one of the few women he’d come across, and the only geneticist. 

“What will she be able to do?” Y/N asked.

He rambled, telling her exactly how he’d gone about obtaining her consult. She’d asked to see his numerous CAT scans and MRIs. Once she saw them,  she’d be able to devise a plan, a vitamin regimen, that might help the migraines go away. “She might be able to recommend something other doctors haven’t thought of.”

“Go for it,” she said. “Can’t hurt.”

                                                             —-

How had he gotten here?

It started innocently enough. After Maeve had prescribed a vigorous vitamin regimen, he’d started calling her periodically to update her on his condition. Seven months had gone by and his migraines had all but disappeared; he felt totally and completely indebted to her. Without a cure for his migraines, he was not only getting burnt out physically, but emotionally too. 

Physically, he was great; Spencer had never felt better, but emotionally…he was worse off than before. Something was stirring in him and he was hesitant to name it. Y/N was the love of his life - at least, he’d always thought so, but there was something about Maeve he really liked, and for months now, he’d called her more often than was necessary. Y/N didn’t seem to mind, although occasionally she did ask why he was calling for the second time in a week. Before he could stop himself, he found himself making up some kind of medical excuse, or claiming that Maeve wanted to use his results for a study. 

Why was he making excuses? 

He knew; of course he knew.

But he couldn’t name it. If he did, then it became real, and if it became real then he’d be forced to choose between her and Y/N. Maeve was his equal in every way; the conversations they had were effortless and soothing, but Y/N was his complement. While he was shy, she was outgoing. He was quiet, she was loud. He was a homebody and she was adventurous. They were the perfect combination of two people and he loved her so much. Was it possible to be in love with two people? He believed so. What else could this feeling be? Why else did his face light up when Maeve called? Why did he make excuses to talk to her if he wasn’t in love with her?

As he emerged from his and Y/N’s bedroom after another needless phone call, Y/N spun around and screamed. Her face was beat red, her eyes were puffy from crying, and her voice…it cut right through him. “I can’t do this anymore!”

“What do you mean?” 

“Her! Make a choice or get the fuck out. I’m done being hurt by you - the one man I thought would never hurt me is causing me undeniable pain, and I refuse to do it anymore.”

“Y/N, why are you doing this? I love you.” Why was he even trying to deny this? Why was he trying to claim anything other than the truth?

Her voice shook as she lifted her hands to wipe the tears away from her eyes. “I love you, too.” Why did this happen? Why did he fall for someone else? Her eyes bore into him, the signs of betrayal and hurt so sharp they dug into him like a knife, each tear twisting the blade in his gut. “I believe you. That’s why it hurts so much. You are developing feelings for someone else. You love someone else too, and I can’t continue to watch it. It’s killing me.” She clutched at her heart. “Every time your face lights up, I can tell it’s her. Every time you take a call from her my heart feels like it’s wrenching out of my chest.”

“Who am I in love with?” Spencer couldn’t help the words coming out of his mouth, because he still couldn’t admit them to himself.

“Maeve!” She screamed; he heard her vocal chords tear themselves to shreds. “I thought she was a godsend. She took away your pain, but you transferred it to me. It’s not fair. I didn’t do anything to deserve this. All I did was love you.” She continued to rant to his horror and shame. Everything she said was true. He was in love with her. He had no idea how it happened or why, but he loved Maeve, and he loved Y/N too. “When it comes to you, I’m selfish,” she continued. “I want you for myself. So you need to choose? Is it me or her?” A coughing fit overtook her as she finished speaking, the breath being pulled from her lungs with each word. Heated tears streamed down her face. “I want you to leave until you can figure out what you want.”

“Y/N, please don’t do this. I love you.” He meant it. Spencer truly did love her; he couldn’t lose her. He tried everything he could think of to get her to take it back, asking why Maeve was any different from JJ or Emily or Garcia. Of course, he was again met with the truth. He was friends with them, but Maeve was different. 

“We work together, so I will continue to be professional, but until you can figure out what you want I need you to leave.” She’d been crying so hard and was so out of breath that she looked like she wanted to throw up. “I hope you come back, because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, but if you come back, it needs to be without her in any way. It’s me or her.”

                                                            —-

“Okay kid,” Morgan said nearly three weeks after Y/N had kicked him out of their apartment. “Spill. The tension between you and Y/N could be cut with a knife. What the hell is up with you two?” He’d been staying with Morgan, but he refused to talk about what happened until now.

Of course, Y/N had kept true to her word, saying nothing about what happened between them. They weren’t PDA-heavy in the office anyway, so very little had changed about the team dynamic, except that they didn’t interact as much as they used to. “You know the doctor I’ve been talking to about my migraines?”

“Yea,” Morgan said, recognition dawning on his face as he spoke her name. “Maeve? You’re…Did you…?”

“Not physically,” Spencer said, unsure whether physical or emotional cheating was worse. “But I fell in love with her. Y/N was uncomfortable with it, not that I blame her, I would have been too, but she told me to leave until I could figure out what I wanted.”

The tears stung at the corners of his eyes as he spoke, looking down at his desk, ashamed beyond words for how he’d hurt the woman he loved. “What is it about this other woman that made you fall for her? Does she feel the same way about you?”

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “And she did say she loved me, but it sounded like she slipped. There was something easy about how we spoke to each other, not better, but different than Y/N. She says I’m in awe of Maeve, and that’s how it happened. I think she may have been right. I just don’t know how to fix this.”

“What did Y/N say?”

“She believes I love her, but if I am to come back, I have to cut off all contact with Maeve.”

Morgan heaved a heavy breath. “How the fuck did this happen?” Not the Reid wasn’t a catch, but Morgan had never expected him of all people to be in this position.

“I don’t know.” The tears had started flowing, so he and Morgan walked to the staircase outside the BAU. “Do you have any advice?”

“The only thing I could think to say is to imagine your life without Maeve, and do the same with Y/N. How does each scenario make you feel?”

                                                           —-

At the time, what Morgan said seemed overwhelming, but over the course of the next few days, he sat in the park trying to think about life without Maeve and Y/N. He came to one undeniable conclusion. Life without Maeve didn’t change much for him, but life without Y/N felt hollow - even the thought of it almost made him sick. He imagined calling Maeve to tell her he couldn’t speak to her anymore, and although it hurt, it didn’t burn like the thought of leaving Y/N.

Without giving himself time to think, he picked up the phone and made the call.

“Hello?” In a perfect world, he would’ve maintained her as a friend, but he was aware that he couldn’t. “Spencer?”

He cleared his throat. “Yea, hi Maeve.”

“What’s wrong? You’ve been crying. I can hear it in your voice.”

“I can’t talk to you anymore.”

“What do you mean? Why?” She was hurt and he could immediately hear her voice strain. “I thought Y/N kicked you out?”

“She did. She told me to make a choice. I feel something for you. It’s more than friendship, but it’s not what I have with Y/N. I love her so much and I can’t imagine my life without her.”

“She’s making you choose? Why can’t we at least be friends?” 

He needed to conclude this call quickly. “She’s not making me choose. It’s my choice. I choose her. I want to marry her. I want a family with her. I want to grow old with her, and if I had my choice I would die the day before she did so I never had to live a day without her. I can’t thank you enough for helping me with my migraines, but I can’t be friends with you because there’s something else there, and I refuse to continue hurting Y/N. I’m sorry, Maeve.” With the words out, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. “Goodbye.” When he hung up, he stood up from the bench and walked toward Morgan’s place. Tomorrow, with a full night’s rest, he’d go see Y/N and hope that he wasn’t too late.

                                                          —-

While he waited for the door to open, he prayed that the damage wasn’t already done. The door swung open. “What is it?” Tears were already forming in her eyes; he was pretty sure crying was all she’d been doing, and he hated himself for being the cause. “I don’t feel like doing this, so make it quick.”

“I-I don’t want her,” he stuttered. “I want you. I called her and told her I couldn’t see or talk to her ever again.”

“Did you…do you love her?” She asked, biting her lower lip to stave off tears.

“It was more than friendship. I think I loved her, but I wasn’t in love with her…I tried to imagine my life without her and it hurt but I knew I’d get over it.” Hearing him speak the truth brought on a fresh wave of tears, but she also looked relieved. “When I tried to imagine my life without you, I felt hollow. I want you, for the rest of my life…if you’ll have me of course.”

“You still know her phone number.”

“I do,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I can’t un-know it, but I will never, ever use it again. You can check my phone whenever you want. Whatever you need to do to trust me again, I’ll do it. I need you to know that I only want you.” He took her hand and placed it over his frantically-beating heart. The heat of her skin calmed him.

“Don’t make me regret letting you in,” she said. A small smile formed at the corners of her lips. “If I find out you ever had any contact with her again, we’re done.”

“I promise,” he said quickly. He caressed the side of her face and pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re all I want.”

@coveofmemories @jamiemelyn @sexualemobitch @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @rmmalta @lukeassmanalvez @reddie-for-mileven @hogwarts-konoha 

Don't Ever Die On Me

Reid x Reader

Summary: Tragedy strikes and while Reid is in an ambulance, you run through your options.

Note: I know I haven’t been very active for awhile so I’m gonna try and stay up all night tonight to give you all different drabbles on the Criminal Minds cast as an apology for my absence. Love you, my Profilers!

~~~~~~~~~~~

The night air bit like the devil as the unfamiliar chill ran down your spine. You absentmindedly wrap your arms around yourself to keep warm but in reality, the weather was not the reason you were cold. You stood alone, leaning against a cop car, staring down at your feet for what felt like hours. The night sky was disturbed by flashes of red and blue lights, caution tape gleaming with yellow laminated paper. People buzzed around, reviewing the crime scene, dotting down notes, examining the bodies, making a few calls. The chaotic noise was distant to you, like the volume was turned down on the TV as you were deep in thought. Your frozen fingers grip your arms as a way of containing yourself from screaming out in frustration and confusion. You didn’t know how to feel, so all you wanted to do was scream to release the pressure building up in your aching chest.

“Hey.”

You look up to find Morgan standing in front of your, his hands in his pockets, his bulletproof vest still on. Yours was on, too, as was the rest of the team’s. Derek found himself staring down at your shoes with you, his jaw tightens while he was deep in thought. He didn’t know how to feel either, besides sadness and anger.

“This sucks,” he sighs while looking up to meet your eyes.

You nod, not finding any words you could possibly say in this situation. You sniff to prevent the cold affecting your nose to drip. You open your mouth to exhale while blinking back some frustrated tears, your head turns to look elsewhere. You observe JJ making a phone call in the distance to either Garcia to inform her of what’s happened…or maybe Will to give him the heads up that she won’t be making it home tonight.

You look back to stare at your feet, knowing Morgan’s eyes were on you, studying you, and you clear your throat, “It’s… tragic.” Your voice breaks quietly.

And by tragic you mean Maeve was murdered.

Again, you didn’t know how to feel about all this. And Morgan knows. He knows that Reid and you were together for nearly four years, and lately you two broke it off. He knows that Reid had found Maeve in your absence and was determined to keep her a secret. Now Morgan wasn’t sure if his friend intended on keeping Maeve a secret from his team or maybe just from you, but as of right now, he didn’t dwell on it.

“You alright?” He asks bluntly, not knowing the right words to say.

Your scrunch your eyebrows together, confused about the question, “I’m fine…? I don’t think I’m the right person you should be asking that.”

This brings both yours and Morgan’s head to turn towards the ambulance parked just outside the taped off apartment complex. The ambulance’ flashing lights blinded you, making you squint your eyes to observe Spencer sitting on the bumper of the vehicle, his mouth ajar while he stared down at the pavement, still in shock from the traumatizing event. His eyes were big and wet from tears, the tracks running down his face announced his grief to the world. There was a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders while a medic was examining his injured arm.

Morgan sighs, stilling watching a motionless Reid while talking to you, “You should go to him.”

This takes you back as you look back to Derek, eyes widen. When he meets your gaze finally, you shake your head, whispering, “It’s not my place.”

“Y/N, I don’t care if you two are no longer together. He still needs you.” The taller agent spoke gently, shuffling his feet, “And you still need him. Right now he needs someone who understands him. Who is strong enough to pull through all this and be there for him. You know as well as I do that he WILL shut down, and he will not talk for a very long time. Hotch is going to give him the time he needs but it won’t be enough and you know that. He’ll be killing himself mentally and you and I both know that the team can’t lose that. We can’t lose him.”

You suck in a sharp intake of air, “Yeah, but…I’m his ex-girlfriend, trying to comfort him at the crime scene of his girlfriend’s death. I don’t want him to be getting the wrong idea or that I’m leading him on.”

Morgan places both of his hands on your shoulders, making you keep your eyes locked with his as he spoke, “You’re not his ex-girlfriend at this time. You are his coworker and his friend. You, like JJ and Garcia, would’ve been there for him despite the circumstances, no matter what.”

Rossi, JJ, and Blake have joined the two of you by now and the old, Italian agent pats your back, nodding towards Reid, “Go, kiddo. You both need this.”

JJ and Blake both give you encouraging looks, despite the horrifying memory of Maeve’s body still on their minds. You let out a huge sigh as a way of calming your nerves as you nod to the team then break from Morgan’s arms, walking towards the ambulance. Your cold palms have suddenly grown sweaty and your chest clenching around your heart, attempting to break it. You find your feet having a mind of their own as you find yourself sitting down on the bumper of the vehicle beside Spencer. The medic was long gone and Reid was by himself, clutching the shock blanket while staring at the ground, not even blinking or barely breathing. He doesn’t flinch or makes a motion that he’s noticed you, and you bet that if you snap your fingers in his face, he wouldn’t even blink. You sit there awkwardly, sighing while looking at the spot he was staring into, licking your lips while trying to come up with something to say. Your fingers gripped the ledge of your seat before finding their way up towards Reid’s hair, surprising yourself when you pull a lock his curls behind his ear. Even at this motion, he doesn’t move. You take a step further and find your shivering fingers trailing down and planting gently on his back, holding it there as a way of letting him know you were there.

“Reid…” You trail off, finding out that something bubbled in your chest but you couldn’t let it out because your tongue tied up to prevent you from saying whatever you needed to say.

His muscles tense suddenly under your touch as you say his name, his lips finally closing shut tight together and he blinks, sitting up slightly but your hand doesn’t pull away from his back. He doesn’t look you in the eye, his head only slowly drops to lean onto your shoulder as he finally breaks into another fit of heartbreaking sobs.

You find yourself shocked at this motion and you hesitate before wrapping your arms tightly around him. You let him wet your shirt with his tears as he cries uncontrollably, his hand reaching to grip your arm that has him trapped in your embrace. He grips your arm so hard that his knuckles turn white and you have to bite your lip from crying out as he continued to let all the tears and cries he can muster out. The hand that once rested on his back finds its way up into his hair, curling around his scalp and massaging it as a way to calm him while you making quiet hushing noises while comforting him. Reid will never admit it, but he still loves you. He knew that he could never have you back so he moved on, meanwhile he had found Maeve. But now that she’s gone, too, he holds onto your arm tighter to make sure you haven’t left like she did.

“Don’t ever die on me.” He whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Months, later, close to a year, you and Reid have settled your differences and while both of you still hopelessly love each other, you won’t admit it cause you’re both afraid that you’ll mess up what you two have worked so hard for to fix. Your friendship is unbreakable, and it’s a miracle that after what you two have been through that you’ve managed to stay as friends. Most couples never do that after breaking up.

Reid shows his true colors as he and you both find yourselves outside the UnSub’s house. Not wanting to wait for back up, you rush in, Reid yelling your name while involuntarily following you. His gun drawn, he turns the corner and comes face to face with the criminal holding a gun to your head, and Spencer quickly talks the guy to death, stalling for as much time as possible to keep you alive. Reid grasped for anything he could think of to keep the UnSub from pulling the trigger as he waits for the rest of the team to show up. Reid had disarmed himself, removing his vest to deem less of a threat to the guy. The situation was all too familiar to Reid. The look of terror on your face, his gun and vest removed, the black barrel pressed against your temple while Reid forces himself not to have a panic attack. It painfully reminded him of that night, when Maeve lay in a pool of hers and her stalker’s blood and you were the only person to be able to make Reid feel sane that night. He was determined not to let history repeat itself.

“Larry…” His voice trails off towards the end of his stalling, his arms still raised in defense but his eyes weren’t on the UnSub, they were on you. And they showed nothing but panic, fear, and worry. “You can go down in a blaze of glory and have the pleasure of killing an FBI agent…but not her. Kill me instead and I promise you, you will get more recognizance in prison for killing me.”

The man has that Cheshire cat grin, one that made you almost gag at the stench of his breath, but your eyes only watched Reid in horror of his offer.

“You would die for her?”

Now THAT sentence had hit close to home for Spencer as he sucks in a sharp breath to keep himself from begging.

“Absolutely,” he finds himself answering while breathing heavily in desperation from trying to keep you from dying, “I would fucking kill myself over…and over again for her. I would face world hunger, depression, terrorism, disease, and serial killers just for her. I’ll face monsters like you for an eternity and it would be all for her. So go ahead…kill me in her place. Your victims are all middle aged men with scientific backgrounds, well guess what I have three PhDs and I have the IQ of 187 so just fucking kill me instead!”

Before the monster could even make up his mind, Hotch had shot him between the eyes in a nearby window, making you nearly scream out as the bullet whizzed past your ear. As the UnSub collapses, so does Reid as he falls to his knees, physically and emotionally exhausted. You run to him, kneeling down in front of him and engulfing him in your arms, holding back whatever tears you had left.

Spencer’s arms shook as he wrapped them loosely around you, sobbing into your shoulder as the realization of him almost losing you finally sinks in. The team doesn’t disturb the two of you as you held each other there, threatening to never let go.

Didn’t See It Coming

Ahhh, I’ve been saving this request for you as your my favourite author on tumblr, could you write a one shot where the reader is Hotch’s daughter and is dating someone who happens to become an unsub, Spencer notices before anyone else that something isn’t right and goes to visit her, finding her tied and beaten up in her apartment he had tied her up so she couldn’t call for help and has beat her up because she tried to stop him, Spence saves her and stays with her and just fluff, thank you ❤️

I can do this!  This is a pretty loaded prompt, so if enough people want another part I can write the taking care of scene, but there was a lot to pack in to fully flesh out your idea.

Warning though, the scene in which he finds you is described in painful detail.  Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!

(Part 2)

Driving in the SUV, Spencer’s eyes whip around all of the streets, refusing to waste the time to cut on his blinker as he ricochets his car to the left, barreling down the road towards your home.

It had been four days since the team first got the case, and Spencer couldn’t help but see you in all of the victims.

“Reid, a lot of women have Y/C/H hair and Y/C/E eyes.  I’m sure that if Hotch felt something was wrong, he would call her and inform her.”

Morgan’s words kept ringing in his ears from the very first day of the case.

You were his boss’s daughter, and it was no secret that you and Spencer got along well.  You were constantly getting coffee and light lunches together, coordinating break times and texting each other to check up during cases that took Spencer away.

Hotch wasn’t a fan of it at first, but Rossi had kept reassuring him that if there was any man that would latch on to you, Spencer was the best one for the job.

And finally, Hotch had relented.

Meaning, the two of you no longer had to feel awkward around your father when he called and you two were together for one reason or another.

But now, after several failed text messages and many calls on Hotch’s part being shot to voicemail, even Aaron began to worry as he started running his hand through his hair.

That was when Hotch had ordered Spencer to go check on her, just to make sure she was alright.

But on the ride there, Spencer’s mind kept whirling.

And the more it spun, the more pieces started falling into place.

“Shit,” he murmurs, fumbling his phone in between his fingers as he hits Hotch’s speed dial number.

“Reid, do you have her?” Hotch answers.

“No, still driving.  Listen, Hotch…our unsub, mid-thirties male with mother issues and problems performing sexually.  Mom has the broad characteristics of the girls being killed, and probably has massive anxiety issues, especially with going out into public, right?”

“I know the profile, Reid,” Hotch bites, “how far out are-”

“Has anyone looked into Y/N’s boyfriend?” Reid asks.

Hotch furrows his brow deep as he opens his mouth, but remains speechless.

Taking the phone from Hotch’s hand, Rossi places Spencer on speakerphone as he cocks an eyebrow at Aaron.

“Reid?” he asks.

“Rossi, tell Garcia to run a full background check on a Robert Morris,” Spencer says.

“How’s that?” Rossi asks.

“Y/N’s boyfriend,” Reid lulls.

“But I thought-”

“I know what you guys thought,” Spencer bites before sighing heavily and hanging another broad right turn, “just do it.”

“Hotch, listen…if Y/N’s still a virgin, she wouldn’t know about his sexual performance issues.  And since she’s a homebody anyway, she wouldn’t know-”

“-about his social anxiety,” Hotch breathes, his face paling as he reaches back for his suit jacket.

“Reid?  Step on it,” Hotch breathes, scurrying out of the bullpen while Morgan places the call to Garcia.

“I’m coming with you,” David says, staying at Hotch’s side as Hotch slowly turns his head towards his friend.

“You can’t let me in that house.  If something’s wrong-”

“I know,” Rossi nods, stepping into the elevator with his friend, “I’ll tackle you to the ground if I have to.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pulling up into your driveway, the front door swinging wide open alerts Spencer to danger.

His eyes began to water at the idea that he may have been right.

Pulling his weapon as he slowly approaches the your house, he clears his corners before stepping into the dark house, looking at all of the overturned, broken furniture.

And just before he went to call out your name, Spencer’s phone rang at his hip.

“Shit,” he murmurs, his hand flying to the device as he clicks it silent.

And then?  He heard a groan.

“Y/N?” he calls out, slowly meandering through the open rooms as his eyes take in the scene.

As his eyes settle on a train of blood, he slowly makes his way up the stairs as he tries to calm the shaking in his hands.

“Y/N!?” he calls out a bit louder.

And this time you groaned a bit louder.

Walking slowly down the hallway, clearing the rooms as the blood trail gets thicker and thicker, he swallows hard just as he puts his hand on the cracked door, the hinges creaking and grinding as his eyes widen slowly.

There you sat.  Bound to a chair.  Your legs duct-taped wipe open as a bloody protrusion sits in between your legs, a piece of glass lodged into the top of your thigh as your head lobs forward, tears pouring down your bruised and battered face.

“Oh, my god,” Spencer murmurs, holstering his gun as he rushes towards you, his hands lightly cupping your cheek as he brings your head level to his, your left eye swollen and bruised while the other sits half-open, a gash ricocheting diagonally across your right eye as the imprint of a hand begins to blare itself around your neck.

“S-…-en…”

“Sssshhhh sh sh sh sh,” Spencer says, a tear pouring down his cheek as he begins to work the duct tape off of one of your ankles.

“D-…da-”

“He’s coming,” Spencer reassures you, talking through his tears as he finally works your stabbed leg free, “I promise you he’s coming.”

But your eyes widened as Robert appeared in the door.

Crying out as Spencer turns around, he blocks the metal pipe coming down at him with his arm, his jaw gritting in pain as he stands up, grasping the pipe as he rams Robert into the wall.

“You get away from her!” Robert roars.

“Not on your life,” Spencer growls.

Backing him out into the hallway, Spencer brings his knee up into Robert’s stomach as the man doubles over, gasping for air as Spencer comes down with his elbow on the back of the man’s neck.

And that’s when he heard someone bounding up the steps.

Drawing his gun, he points it at the figure as Morgan comes around the corner, his hands thrusting high into the air as tears stream down Spencer’s raging face.

“Whoa whoa whoa, pretty boy.  It’s alright.  It’s just me,” Morgan coos, his eyes dropping to the body laying at Spencer’s feet.

“He alive?” Morgan asks.

“Unfortunately,” Spencer says, holstering his gun as he rushes back into the room.

“Is there an ambulance here?” Spencer roars behind him, listening to a tussle going on outside as he works your other leg free.

“Called for it on the way here, should be pulling up any second,” Morgan says as he cuffs the unconscious man on the floor.

Working your other leg free as you hang your head, your breathing become audible as the pain in your leg starts to ricochet up your side.

“I’m going t-”

The sobs caught in Spencer’s throat as his eyes travel to the protrusion in between your legs.

The idea made him absolutely sick.

“I’m going-”

Taking in a shaky breath, he hears Morgan finally shuffling the rousing man down the stairs, reading his rights as he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers as he shifts around you, working the binds off of your hands as he tries to put off the inevitable.

Grasping an evidence bag from his pocket, you raise your head to look him in his eyes as tears begin to flow once again down your cheeks.

“It’s ok,” you whisper, nodding lightly to him as he swallows thickly.

Feeling his hand creep up your thigh, your body begins to tremble in fear as Spencer begins to talk to you lowly, reassuring you with sweet nothing that you are safe, and that he is gone, and that you will be taken care of.

Grasping the object as he slowly pulls it from between your legs, you whimper in pain as anger flows through him, his hands trembling as he sticks the small metal pipe into the evidence bag, sealing it before his tears can taint the evidence.

You began to sob in shame.

As Morgan approaches silently from behind, he takes the bag from Spencer, their eyes connecting heavily for a second as Morgan’s jaw clenches in anger.

“The ambulance is ready for her,” he glowers.

“Take this to someone.  Anyone, except Hotch,” Spencer pleads.

“That won’t be a problem,” Morgan states as he rises to his feet, “Rossi has him handcuffed to the car door.”

Feeling Spencer hoist you into his arms, his clothes slowly absorbing your blood as you lay your head on his shoulder, your mouth groaning with every step he takes.

“It’s okay,” he trembles as the tears begin to drip down his neck, “I’ve got you now.  You’re safe.”

Spencer cursed himself within his own mind, angry that he didn’t see the signs sooner than this.

“You couldn’t of,” you say, almost reading his thoughts as Spencer angles his head and looks down at you.

“You couldn’t of known.  None of you could’ve,” you hoarsely whisper just before Spencer steps out of the house with you.

As the paramedics rush towards you, his arms lowering you to the rolling gurney as he lightly brushes the blood-soaked hair from your face, you hear your father yell for you in the background just before the heavy foot-falling of steps.

Rossi must have let him go.

“Y/N!” Hotch roars, his body scurrying to your side as he looks down at you, his own daughter…bloodied and bruised and broken.

“Oh, my god,” he whispers, his face crinkling as he begins to sob at your side.

“You can ride with us, Dad,” the paramedic says, rolling you to the vehicle as Spencer watches Hotch trot by your side, holding your ligature-marked arm as your eyes flutter heavily.

“Stay with us, sweet pea,” Hotch begs, tears dripping down his face as his eyes scour your entire body, stopping on the glass protruding from your leg.

“Just stay with us,” he whispers desperately.

And as Spencer watched the ambulance doors shut, he watches his boss peer out at him through the windows, a mixture of sadness and gratefulness washing over his features as the ambulance begins to pull away.

“Come on, kid,” Morgan says lowly through his own choked emotions, “you can ride with me to the hospital.”

Mirage

Oneshot request: reid and reader (both in the BAU) are dating, then an unsub kills him (like emily did in s6), y/n is upset, quit her job and skip town, then later reid is alive again, found out y/n had left and has a bf and he tries to get her back?

Alright.  I can try to squeeze this into a one-shot.  I hope you enjoy it.  Here it is, comin’ ‘acha!

(Part 2)

No one knew what to do.

No one knew what to say.

No one knew what they could do to make you take your badge and gun back.

Hotch tried.  He followed you out of his office that day, practically begging you to keep your ID.

“You can take paid leave,” he had tried.

“You can take all of your leave,” he had pleaded.

“We need you right now,” J.J. had emphasized.

No one on the team could blame you.  Burying Spencer was the hardest thing any of them had to do.  But the way you stared off into space on the airplane, or the way you stood back from his grave.

Or the way Rossi found you sleeping in the rain, slumped over onto his headstone…

“Just let her go,” Rossi had urged.

Hotch wanted to tell you.

J.J. wanted to scream it at you.

But they couldn’t.

They couldn’t tell you not to quit.

Hotch couldn’t tell you that Spencer asked about you every time he emailed.  J.J. couldn’t tell you about the pictures she sent of you, knowing that Spencer needed to know how this was affecting you.

She was never with this plan from the start, because of how she knew it would affect you.

And now?  Here you are, sweating and gyrating underneath yet another nobody, working the alcohol out of your system as visions of Spencer come wafting back behind your eyelids, causing tears to spring to your eyes as the man above you begins to grunt and grind into your hips.

After four months, he could still make you cry.

The two of you had worked together for years.  It hadn’t taken long for you to fall in love with him, but it took both of you quite some time to admit it to each other.

The team was wholly invested in the trip the two of you were taking together.

It’s why this entire situation broke your boss’s heart.

He knew he had to key to fixing everything, and he couldn’t show it to you.

It’s why Spencer jeopardized the entire mission.

It’s why he came back earlier than the director would’ve hoped.

You were gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I-I-I don’t know where she went,” Garcia stammers as Reid hovers above her, his eyes flickering across the screen.

Groaning as Spencer rears up, he runs his hands through his hair, his scruff more prominent than anyone had ever seen, as Hotch and J.J. barrel through into her lair.

“Her cell phone isn’t pinging,” Hotch says.

“For all we know she changed her number,” J.J. offers.

“I’m trying to find that as well, but it’s just like-”

“-she vanished?” Rossi says as he comes behind everyone.

“It’s good to have you back, Reid,” he offers.

“It would be better if she was here,” Reid murmurs.

“I-I-I think I’ve got something?” Garcia says as she pulls up an ATM camera screen.

“Where is that?” Spencer asks as he bends back down over her shoulder.

“Greensboro, North Carolina,” Garcia says as her fingers wield at lightening speed over the keyboard in front of her.

“Between ATM and traffic cameras…” she draws out.

“…you can piece together where’s she’s been,” Spencer says.

“Nu uh.  Where she’s going,” Garcia smiles.

“This…this is real time?” Spencer breathes.

“Yep,” she says, popping her “p”.

And that’s when it happened.

That’s when everyone watched a man come up behind you, wrapping his arms around you quickly as he picks you up and swings you around.

“Oh my god, she’s being attacked!” Spencer squeals as he raises up again.

“Oh, no…” Hotch murmurs lowly.

And as Spencer’s eyes flicker back to the screen, that’s when he saw it.

That’s when he saw you kiss the stranger.

And the tears he didn’t know were brewing behind his eyes began to fall down his cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had taken Garcia only another 15 minutes to track you and the mystery man back to what everyone assumed was the raggedy, run-down apartment complex that the two of you had kissed and stumbled your way in to.

And only seconds later, Spencer was on the road.

Spencer wasn’t as shocked as he thought he was supposed to be.  Even though Hotch disapproved wholly, he had attended his own funeral.

He saw how withdrawn you were.  How distant and dazed you seemed.

It was his last memory of you before he hopped a private plane and disappeared.

And now?  He was recanting the speech in his head.  The words that he hoped with everything he still possessed would tear you from the arms of this intruder of a man and pull you back into his.

He would grovel for the rest of his life if it meant having you back.

Four hours later, he was pulling into the apartment complex just as Garcia was calling him.

“What?” he bites as he gets out of the car and slams the door.

“I called the landlord and fed him a story about how the FBI needed-”

“Spit it out, Garcia,” Spencer breathes as he walks towards the stairs to the apartment he saw you two disappear into.

“Yes.  It’s Y/N.  Paid for the next six months in cash, and the man hasn’t left the complex yet.”

That would make this even more interesting.

“Thank you, Garcia,” Spencer says, the desperation in his voice pouring through the receiver as Hotch clears his throat.

“Bring her back, Reid,” he says.

Closing his phone as he stuffs it into his pocket, he stands at the door as he stares through the wood, knowing what’s going on just inside of that apartment, but too afraid to admit it.

Or even find proof of it.

But as he raises his hand to knock on the door, it flies open in front of him, revealing a disheveled, shirtless man who is in the process of zipping up his pants.

And his face was red with anger.

“Fuck you!” he calls behind him just before he stares Spencer in the face.

“It’s what you just did!” you roar back, tears clearly in your voice as Spencer’s fist clench by his sides.

“Whadda you want?” he spits, pushing his shirtless form past Spencer as he hears soft sobs emanating from the dank, dingy apartment.

“Better hope you don’t mind that whore calling you a different name,” the man grumbles as he works his shirt on his body.

Spencer felt his anger waft up into his chest.

“Seems she’s a fan of the name ‘Spencer’.”

And just like that, the man was gone, leaving Spencer stunned as the disgusting smell of the unwashed apartment fills his nostrils.

It was your growing sobs that brought him back to reality as he turns his head, walking into your apartment and slowly shutting the door behind him.

Following your sobs as he tries to ignore the chaos and disgusting stains growing along the walls, he peeks his head into what he can only imagine is the main bedroom of the sorry excuse for an apartment.

You were very quick to react.

“I said…get the FUCK OUT!” you roar, picking up your alarm clock and standing up, twisting your body and hurdling it at the door frame as he smashed into a million pieces, falling onto the dingy carpet as your eyes connect with the man in the door frame.

But it wasn’t the man you expected to find.

Feeling your eyes widen as tears continue to drip down your cheeks, your puffy eyes sunken in from lack of sleep and your collarbone dip more prominent than he had ever seen, your eyes swipe over the mirage of the man you had come to love, who had left in a blaze of glory attempting to save your life.

It was a mirage, right?

“Y/N…” Spencer breathes.

But all you could do was gape at him.

Watching as the figure moves towards you, your body completely rooted to its spot as Spencer slowly approaches you, you feel your hands begin to tremble as you finally have the courage to take a step back.

Away from Spencer.

The action caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

“You left?” Spencer questions.

“You died,” you say flatly.

Spencer’s eyes danced in between yours as he watches your body visibly begin to tremble.

“Holy god, I’ve completely lost it,” you breathe as you take another step back, your back hitting the wall behind you with a thud as you splay your hands upon the solid surface.

Anything to try and ground you back to reality.

Because the reality was, the man in front of you was dead.

“No,” Spencer whispers as he shakes his head, taking a tentative step towards you as you squeeze your eyes shut, “no, I haven’t.”

Swallowing hard as you feel his body heat radiating out towards you, your jaw begins to quiver as you swallow audibly, a muffled whimper escaping your body as you feel something light and soft press into your cheek.

It was warm.

And comforting.

And familiar.

“Spencer…” you breathe, your lip physically quivering as your body begins to shiver.

“Yes,” he says lowly, his body closing the distance as you feel him press lightly into you.

How you had chased that feeling for months.  Trying and failing to duplicate it in a desperate need to find something that you had thought was gone forever.

Lost with him in his grave.

“Oh, my god,” you choke out, finally opening your eyes as you crane your neck high, connecting your gaze with Spencer’s as his thumb darts out and catches your tears.

“Oh, my god,” you begin to sob, throwing your arms around him as he snakes his arms around your back, holding you as tight as he can, yet feeling the amount of weight you’ve lost under your loosely-hanging clothes.

The sensation caused his own tears to spill over, plopping down onto your shoulder as you sob into the crook of his neck.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” you whisper desperately into his skin.

But the truth of the matter was, that was all the anger you could muster.  Having him back in your arms only served to prove how tired you were…

…deep down in your bones.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathes, his speech coming to him as he continues to pull you even closer to himself.

“I couldn’t tell you.  There was so much behind that case…so much targeted at you…and until we found the guy responsible Hotch felt that we needed to give him what he wanted.  He wanted you to break, and we knew that my death would do that.  Every time I emailed Hotch I asked how you were, and every day…in their spare time…they worked that case until they found the man responsible for tracking you.  J.J. sent me pictures, and Hotch told me stories.  And I’m sorry…Y/N, I’m so sorry that this had to happen.  I love you.  I did this all because I love you and I couldn’t let him hurt you.  This was the only way I could protect you.  Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

You feel his shoulders shaking with his own sobs as you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist as you cling to him for dear life, still trying to convince yourself he was real, and never wanting to let go of the mirage if he wasn’t.

And as if he could read your mind…

“I’m right here.  I swear, it’s me.  And I’m right here.”

Feeling your eyes begin to droop, your head resting on Spencer’s shoulder, your sobs give way to light snores as you fall asleep in the warmth of his body, soaking up its therapeutic essence as your body begins to relax within his grasp.

And that’s when Spencer realized he was taking you home.

Taking you back to your real home.

Walking you out to his car, he folds down the seats of the large black SUV, piling blankets onto the floor before placing you down into it to sleep.  And while you continued to sleep, he made trips up to your living hell-hole, throwing your clothes into suitcases before hauling them down and throwing them into the front seat of the car.

Garcia had proceeded to inform him while he was packing that you had a small storage unit rented out in Spencer’s name down there, and she told him that the team would arrange to have it’s contents transferred back to DC, where Spencer would help you find another place of your own.

A place better than this.

Surrounded by your friends.

Surrounded by him…

Spencer wasn’t letting you go without a fight.

And if he ultimately has it his way…he wasn’t letting you go ever again.

Ambulance Adoption

your writing is super lovely (: Hoping you could do a reidxreader where reid meets the reader in the hospital where she’s a med student in during a case and she’s playing cards with one of the children they’ve saved to help him relax because the kid is scared and the BAU can’t get in contact with his family? and he asks her out after the case? thx!

can you make an imagine where Reid and the reader are dating and they are trying to find missing children with the rest of the team and when they rescue them, all of the children have parents and families to go back home to, except a 1 year old baby girl and they decide to adopt her?

I can do this!  I’m gonna combine the basics of two prompts, so I hope these two nonniepots still enjoy the story!  Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!

(Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6)

The entire team was trying to coax this crying girl out of the ambulance, and not a single one of them could get the cowering girl to take a step.

“Hotch…we can’t scare her any more than she’s already scared,” Reid says.

“She needs to see a doctor,” Hotch urges, turning his gaze to Reid as J.J. steps back up to the plate.

“Come here, sweetheart, you’re safe…I promise,” she says, holding out her hand.

But all the girl did was back further into the corner and whimper.

Walking out to the ambulance dock, you part the sea of worried eyes as you smile kindly, sitting on the edge of the ambulance as you open up a bag of chips.

“No luck on getting in touch with her family,” Morgan says breathlessly as he puts his hand on Prentiss’ shoulder.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asks.

“One of the kids won’t come out of the ambulance,” she murmurs.

“Poor girl is probably petrified,” he offers.

Munching loudly on a chip, you turn your gaze towards the girl as her eyes adhere to the food in your hand.

“You know, on the kid’s wing it’s pizza night tonight,” you say.

Munching on another chip, you turn your gaze back to the girl as you lick your fingers.

“Do you like pizza?” you ask.

Watching as she nods slowly, you smile as you nod along with her.

“Me, too,” you lull as you dig around for another chip.

“Could…could I have one?” the little girl asks.

“Of course!” you say, holding the bag out as the team looks upon you with wonder and anxiousness.

Watching as the little girl slowly crawls out of the corner, she sticks her bruised little hand into the bag as you smile kindly at her, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“What’s your favorite kind of pizza?” you ask.

“Cheese,” she says, chomping on the chip as she thrusts her hand back into the bag.

“Mmmm, lots of cheese?” you smile.

“Mhm,” the girl says, grabbing for yet another chip as she crunches down on her mouthful.

“I bet I could snag us a whole cheese pizza for ourselves,” you whisper to her as you lean in close, a smile creeping across her face as Reid begins to smile along with you.

“But…if we’re gonna have pizza, we gotta make sure your little tummy can handle it,” you say, reaching your finger out and rubbing the little girl’s distended stomach under her shirt.

You watched her face fall as her eyes darted to all of the people behind you.

“It’ll just be me,” you say as you rub her back, “I’ll pick you up, take you in, do all of the looking myself,” you coo.

“Promise?” she asks, looking up at you with big brown eyes as they begin to water.

“Promise,” you say, choking on your own tears as she wraps her arms tightly around your neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Any luck with her family?” Hotch asks, his eyes hooked on you and the little girl in her hospital room as the two of you munch on some pizza.

“Hotch, I don’t know about you…but I’m starting to think that the reason why this girl was never reported missing was because someone didn’t care,” Morgan says, crossing his arms in front of his chest as they watch you bring out a deck of cards from under your white coat.

“How’s she doing?” Reid asks, his hands in his pockets as he appears on the other side of Hotch.

“Besides the bruising, starvation, and mild dehydration, I’d say the girl’s in pretty high spirits,” Hotch breathes, running his hand through his hair as he darts his eyes over to Morgan.

“We’ve waited long enough, we need to get child services involved,” he says.

“On it,” Morgan says, backtracking down the hallway as he begins to pull his phone from his pocket.

But inside the room, the two of you were in your own little world.

“Do you know how to play cards?” you ask, pulling them from the little box as the girl nods his head.

“Wanna play?” you ask, shuffling them as the girl smiles.

Watching her nod, you begin to deal out a hand of seven cards each, scattering the rest in the middle of the little table as she begins to giggle.

Gathering up your cards as you watch her fan hers out in her bruised little hands, you swallow hard to bury your tears as you peer at her from behind your hand.

“Got any seven’s?” you ask, wiggling your eyebrows as she giggles again.

“Nope,” she says, shaking her head as you playfully squint your eyes.

“Go fish!” she calls out, laughing as you sigh obnoxiously and take a card.

“Got any…two’s?” the girl asks as you look down at your hand.

“You peekin?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow in the air as the girl begins to giggle again.

“No!” she squeals.

“Here,” you say, handing her your two of spades as she puts the pair of cards in front of her.

“How about…an ace?” she asks.

“Not a single one,” you say, leaning forward and smiling as she reaches for her slice of pizza.

“Do you have a name?” you finally ask her.

Watching her nod her head as she chews, Spencer has moved from the window to the door-frame, looking on at the mesmerizing spectacle with a large grin on his face.

“What is it?” you ask.

“What’s yours?” she shoots back.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” you say.

“No…” she says, shaking her head, “your real name.”

“Y/N,” you coo, reaching over to brush her hair out of her eyes.

“Now,” you ask, pulling your hand back, “what’s yours?”

Watching as she darts her eyes around, you put your cards down and lay your hand out, watching her as she puts her hand within yours.

“You’re safe now,” you reassure her.

“He wouldn’t let us use our names,” she admits.

Now Spencer was listening more intently, his hands unfolding and hanging at his sides.

“Well, he’s not here anymore,” you stress.

Watching her lean forward, as if to tell you a secret, she re-situates herself as she looks around one more time.

“Brie,” she whispers.

“Brie…” you trail off, your hand raising up to cup the little girl’s cheek, “that’s a very pretty name.”

“A pretty name for a pretty girl,” Spencer says.

Jumping as you whip your head around, your wide eyes take stock of the man before you, his long hair in his eyes as his long legs hold up a broad frame, his suit coat hanging off of his broad shoulders as his eyes glitter with his smile.

“I’m Spencer,” he says, waving his hand lightly in the air.

“Hi,” Brie says meekly.

Feeling the heavy silence fall upon the room, you turn your head back to Brie as her eyes unlock from the agent, turning towards the pizza as her hand digs around for the pizza box.

“Want some?” she asks, holding up a slice as your eyebrows hike up on your face.

Turning around, you see the vivid shock on Spencer’s face as his eyes flicker over to you, almost as if asking you permission to come sit.

“Well?” you ask, nodding your head towards the outstretched slice.

“I would love some,” he says, making his way over as he sits on the edge of the bed, taking the slice from her as he takes a big bite.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours blended into days, and soon you were coming upon your fourth day in the hospital, not wanting to leave the little girl’s side, especially now that things with child services had gotten complicated.

Brie had taken to Spencer a lot better than you would have imagined.  She wouldn’t let any of the other agents, man or woman, come near her…but you and Spencer were exceptions.

The two of you were…safe to her.

“The problem is she has no family.  It’s not that she has family that doesn’t want her…but her situation was different,” the woman says.

Once you had coaxed her name out of her, it was simple enough…with her DNA…to track down who her family was.

And the only family to speak of had died in the home invasion that resulted in her kidnapping in the first place.

“So what happens to her now?” J.J. asks.

“Well, she’ll stay here, on the state’s dime, until the doctor’s discharge her.  Then…well…she’ll go into the system.”

The team felt awful.  All of the other children that had been saved had gone home with family, and here was this little girl, asking why her parent’s hadn’t turned up yet.

“There’s no one?” Prentiss pipes up, “No grandparents or uncles or even grown cousins?”

“This family comes from a long line of only children.  Trust me, if there was someone I would find them,” the woman says, her heart breaking in her eyes as she peers through the window at the three of you reading a book.

Spencer and you were perched on either end of Brie, holding the sides of a book while she reads the words aloud, slowly but surely, as your finger follows the words and Spencer coaches through the harder sounds.

“…but the woman saw the…lonely?…”

Looking up at Spencer for reassurance, he nods his head and smiles, a grin encompassing her face as she looks back down at her book.

“…the lonely cat…and…de-…dek-”

“In this word,” he says as he points, “the ‘c’ makes an ‘s’ sound.”

Giggling as Brie crinkles her nose, she giggles and shakes her head.

“Silly ‘c’’s,” she says.

You and Spencer giggled along with her respectively.

“…the lonely cat and decided to keep her,” she finishes.

“Good job!” Spencer praises, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close.

The entire scenario made the team smile as Rossi appears out of nowhere.

“If only one of them could take her home…” he trails off.

And that’s when the woman had an idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You want us to what?” Spencer breathes.

Folding your arms across your chest as you listen to the woman explain the girls’ situation, you finally allow the tears that had been brewing over the past four days to finally spill over onto your cheeks.

“Look, this girl has taken to no one else but the two of you.  If we take her to a home, there’s a high chance she’ll have an outburst, and she’ll be right back in the hospital because she’s gonna hurt someone…maybe even herself,” the woman reasons.

“But we aren’t talking about fostering a child,” Spencer says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders absent-mindlessly, “you’re talking about adoption.  About actually becoming this girl’s parent.”

“It’s just an option we have,” the woman says as she holds her hands up in mock surrender,” you don’t have to do it.  Either of you,” she says as her gaze moves over towards yours.

You were trying to avoid her altogether as your eyes pan back into the room with Brie, her chest rising and falling as she sleeps soundly.

“Dr. Reid,” she begins again, “you’re an incredibly smart man.  You know the statistics of her getting adopted if she goes into the system.”

You feel the tears continuing to pour down your cheeks as you draw in a deep breath through your nose and part your lips.

“I’ll do it,” you breathe.

“What?” Spencer asks, unraveling his arm from you as you slowly pan your gaze back to the woman.

“I’ll adopt her,” you say with more strength.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, taking your shoulders and turning your body towards his.

The entire team was looking upon the three of you in utter confusion.

“Look.  I’m a single woman in her mid-30s with absolutely no dating prospects because I’m a workaholic,” you begin, “and maybe a single-parent home isn’t the best home, but it’s better than what’s she’s got going for her, and…and, well…she’s taken to me, you know?  How can I just…send her away, Spencer?  How can I do that?”

Now your chest was hicupping with your sobs and he pulls you into his chest.

“How can I turn her away?” you whisper.

Feeling him rub your back with his strong hand, you sniffle and pull away, wiping at your tears as you turn your head back to the woman, a hesitant smile gracing her cheeks.

“I’ve got the paperwork here?” she asks, more of a question than a declaration as her fingers play along a packet of papers.

“Give ‘em to me,” you say, holding out your hand as her smile grows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting Brie up on the counter of the nurse’s station as you fill out the last bit of paperwork you would need to, you look up towards her smiling face as she clutches onto a bear that Spencer had brought her yesterday.

“So, I’m going home with you?” she asks.

“Yep,” you say, smiling as you finish submitting your paperwork for vacation.

“And it’s gonna be forever?” she asks again.

“Yep,” you say, smiling wide at her as she smiles back.

“Are you gonna be my mommy?” she asks as you finish signing the last signature you would need to for a while.

“Yes, but you don’t have to call me that if you don’t want to,” you coo, rubbing her knee lightly as she wraps her small arms around your neck.

“I wanna,” she says, squeezing you tight as you fight your own tears of joy.

“Alright Dr. Y/L/N, you’re all set.  Two months of vacation followed by a 6 month sabbatical,” the woman beams.

“Alright.  Let the chief of medicine know that in a few weeks he’ll have the research I’ll be working on, and after my sabbatical I’ll have a decision as to whether I’ll come back full-time or part-time,” you say as you help Brie down from the counter.

“Wonderful!  I’ll pass on the message.”

“Ready to go home?” you ask, holding out your hand as Brie slips hers into yours.

“Wait!  Y/N!”

Turning your head as you watch Spencer barrel down the hallway, Brie lets go of you and takes off, her arms outstretched as Spencer picks her up and swings her around.

“Spencer!” she giggles.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” he says, kissing the top of her head as he holds her on his hip, “I have some news for mommy,” he says, looking over at you as you cover your hand with your mouth.

“You remember that question you asked me a couple of days ago?” Spencer asks as he walks towards you.

Nodding your head as tears spring to your eyes, you watch Spencer’s eyes water as well as Brie hugs his neck tight.

“I know I was hesitant before, but…I was hoping that it wasn’t too late,” he chokes out.

Closing your eyes as you cover your face with your hands, you sniffle as you peek out through your fingers.

“I know this is weird.  I mean, 10 days ago we were desperate to coax this little one out of an ambulance and were total strangers and now…now she’s going home with a mommy and-”

“-and a daddy?” Brie asks, her eyes big as Spencer turns his attention towards her.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding his head, “and a daddy.”

“You’re gonna be my daddy!?” she squeals, throwing her arms around Spencer as she begins to cry into his shoulder.

“You’re gonna be my daddy,” she sobs, her shoulders heaving as you barrel towards the two of them, wrapping your arms around Spencer’s waist as you bury your face into his chest.

“You signed the papers,” you breathe.

“I signed the papers,” he murmurs, running his hand through your hair as Brie scrambles down from his side.

Feeling her take your hand, you wipe away your tears and turn around, her little hand reaching out to take Spencer’s as the two of you walk hand-in-hand at her side.

“Can we go get some cheese pizza, mommy?” she asks, looking up at you as you chuckle, watching Spencer hold the door open for the two new women in his life.

“Yes, daughter,” you enunciate, squeezing her hand lightly as you smile down at her, “we can most certainly go get cheese pizza.”

“And maybe after the pizza,” Spencer grunts as he picks her up and tosses her in the air, her giggles ringing out as the three of you make way for your car, “we could get milkshakes.”

“Milkshakes!” Brie shrieks, sitting on Spencer’s shoulders as he holds her steady with his large hands.

“Milkshakes!” Spencer calls out, running down the sidewalk with her as her long hair bellows in the wind.

Perfection.

This is what perfection felt like.

And you couldn’t wait to get home.

Mafia

Hey, I hope your having a good day, do you think you could do an imagine where y/n is part of the Mafia or something and she is sent to spy on the BAU, Spencer falling in love with her in the process, the team find out and you decide from there xxx

(Warning: there are some triggers in here for those who are squeamish about miscarriages and beatings.)

Spencer didn’t want to believe it.

As he reads the text message on his phone, your body curled deeply into his as he mindlessly strokes your hair, he reads the text message over and over as document after document whooshes through to his phone, his eyes quickly scanning the miniature proof of your double-life.

Proof of your sympathizing efforts for the Mafia.

You.

You who had come into his life seven months ago.

You, who had taken a bullet for his boss.

You…who had beaten serial killers off of Lewis and babysat for J.J. and Will.

You who was beloved by the entire team…

…was a spy for the Mafia.

As tears brim his eyelids, his heart clenching in his chest as he beings to take shallow breaths, he finally flickers his gaze down towards you…

…and is met with your deadpan stare.

“Y-…Y/N,” he breathes as he slowly watches you sit up.

“Spencer…?” you lull lightly as you sit upright, the sheet falling from your naked body as your bosom lightly bounces with your movements, “What’s that, sweetheart?”

But you knew.

He saw the recognition flicker behind your eyes as he shuts his phone off quickly.

“Is it true…?” Spencer croaks lightly, trying to keep his tears at bay and remain strong in front of the woman who had just shattered his soul.

Another woman he loved…taken from him because of circumstances beyond his control.

“Is what true, honey?” you coo, reaching out for his cheek.

“Stop,” Spencer spits as he scoots back from you.

“You’re better than this,” he whispers desperately.

But all you did was continue to stare at him.

“Spencer…I-”

“What is your mission?”

“Wh-…what?” you breathe.

“What.  Is your mission?” Spencer enunciates.

But you knew that if you disclosed that information, you would be killed.

Right now?  You could still struggle to get out of his apartment, and nothing but a stern beating from your boss would befall you.

Spencer saw you losing yourself in your thoughts.

“I can give you a 5-minute head-start…” he lulls as he dips his watery gaze into his naked lap.

“Spencer…I-”

“4 minutes and 58 seconds,” Spencer breathes, his hands twisting themselves together in his lap as your eyes slowly rake up and down his naked form, committing his body to memory before you slowly begin to slip out of the bed.

You wanted to tell him that you loved him.

You wanted to reassure him that you never planned on this relationship.

You wanted to kiss him and tell him that, despite your ruse, he was never part of the plan…

…that there would never be another one like him.

“4 minutes and 49 seconds,” Spencer whispers as a tear falls from his cheek into his lap.

And it wasn’t too long after that that he heard his front door slam shut.

Three months.

After three months of looking desperately for you, trying to figure out what the Mafia was doing infiltrating the BAU, a mysterious email appears in Garcia’s inbox before deleting itself from the ethers.

“Guys!” she runs in, breathless as she holds up a printed version of the email.

“Guys!  It’s her!  I-i-it’s Y/N!”

Everyone perks up at the sound of your name.

“Let me see,” Spencer breathes, ripping the paper from her hand as he reads the sentence on the piece of paper.

“’Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’”

“What does that mean?” Morgan asks as he crinkles his nose.

“It’s a line from a book called ‘Velveteen Rabbit’,” Spencer begins, “it originally denotes that the ‘Skin Horse’…or main character that harbors no soul, doesn’t understand the true meaning of love until they experience the love of a child.”

“So this is a children’s book?” Hotch asks.

“But why send us a line from a children’s book?” J.J. asks as she folds her arms around her chest.

She was still frightened over the idea of someone from the Mafia previously watching over her children.

“I don’t know…” Spencer says as he clenches his jaw in frustration.

But soon, Spencer did know.

It was Spencer that figured out that the Mafia wasn’t targeting the BAU, but their children.

It was Spencer who put together that it was also an admission of your sorrow…how you felt lost, like the Skin Horse, until you had come across the love and support of the BAU.

But it was also an admission of your love for Spencer, once he pieced together the fact that you were pregnant.

“Pregnant, Reid?” Rossi breathes as he furrows his brow at his colleague, “Are you sure?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense with this last email,” Spencer says, tears rising to his eyes as he holds up the last email sent from you to the team yesterday.

But little did they know that you had been caught sending that last email.

Little did they know that the boss beat you within an inch of your life before tossing you into the river.

Little did they know that your body, broken and battered and bruised, had washed up onto the shores of an obscure lake in the middle of the woods, barely breathing and carrying a child that now had no pulse.

You just wished that you would die.

That is…until a mountain biker skidded to a stop and stumbled down to the lakeshore…

Coming to in the hospital with your wrist handcuffed to the railing, you watch as a blurry figure begins to unlock your wrist, freeing your arm as it drops to your side.

You were in prison.

“She lost the baby…?” you hear a familiar voice croak.

Oh.

That.

Feeling your jaw quiver as your hand slowly begins to move, you wince in pain as you slowly drift it over your belly button, your fingertips blue and trembling as tears begin to pour down your face.

That child was the last you had of Spencer.

And you had failed to protect it.

“Are you sure?” an unfamiliar voice says, “We’ve got reports of a woman that fits her exact description with deep ties to the Mafia inner workings up the East Coast.”

“We told you, we thought she was a sympathizer, she fled, then she became a double-agent and warned us through a series of emails that have already been submitted into evidence that saved the lives of our children.”

Hotch.

That voice was Hotch.

How was Hotch in the prison medical facility?

“She could get a massively-reduced sentence, spend a few years in jail instead of you guys having to work around the woman who wanted your children dead.”

It was then that you let out a light sob as tears begin to waft down your cheeks.

“Or she could spend those years working with the BAU to atone for the things she’s done, earning half-pay and sustaining it with volunteer hours on the weekends,” Rossi steps in.

Rossi.

Oh, sweet, resounding Rossi.

Feeling someone squeeze your hand, you jump in pain, letting out a squelched yelp as you feel a pair of lips descend onto your forehead.

“Sssshhhhh…it’s alright.  You’re alive.  You’re in a hospital.  And you’re coming home.”

Home?

Someone was taking you home?

Where was home…?

Wait…was that Spencer!?

“You know, Hotch,” you hear Morgan say as footfalls envelope your ears, “if we could get Y/N to talk about who her boss is, and who did this to her, they might be willing to pay her full-pay.”

“They won’t give her benefits, but full-pay might be something they’re willing to negotiate,” J.J. pipes up.

“What…?”

Coughing as more tears rise to you eyes, your jaw aching as Spencer scrambles for some water, he slips the straw in between the wirings of your teeth keeping your jaw closed as you sip the cool liquid down your aching throat.

“Y/N?” Hotch coos as he sits down on the edge of your bedside, “Can you hear me?”

You grunt as Spencer slowly moves the hair back from your stitched forehead.

“You’ve been beaten pretty badly,” he begins, his eyes scanning your body carefully, trying to figure out a way to continue.

How could he tell you that you lost Spencer’s child.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N…” J.J. whispers as her hand descends onto the cast on your leg.

You sniffled hard before letting out a muffled sob.

“I’m sorry,” you say through your wirings, your body beginning to tremble as the true extent of your pain begins to dawn on your conscious mind.

“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  Please…I’m sorry.  Spencer…I’m sorry.  You guys…please…I’m so sorry.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.”

Chanting the phrase over and over again as you begin to shake from pain, you hear Morgan bellow into the hallway for someone to get in here and give you some relief as Spencer gently lays his forehead into your throbbing temple.

“I’m right here…” he breathes as you finally feel relief course through your system.

“I’m right here,” he whispers, pressing a light kiss to your ear as you instinctively lean into his warm, gentle lips.

“I’m sorry…I’m…sorry…I-…”

“Let her sleep for now,” Rossi says as he hand comes down lightly onto Spencer’s shoulder, tears now pouring down his face as he stares upon the swollen, battered, crushed skin of the woman he never could stop loving.

“We can give her the details when she’s better.  She’s gonna be here a while, and there’s still a lot to figure out.”

“Okay…” Spencer lulls, his eyes dancing along your face one last time before leaning forward and pressing a light kiss to your scabbed, swollen lips.

“We’re gonna find who did this,” Rossi reassures Spencer.

“And we’re gonna build her a life she probably never thought was an option,” Spencer breathes before getting up from your side.

And as the two men exit the room, with Spencer looking back one last time, he watches Garcia slip into your room with her book and her laptop as she perches in the chair beside your head, her legs propping up on the edge of your hospital bed as Spencer furrows his brow and turns his attention towards David.

“What?  Didja think I was gonna leave her alone?”

And Spencer wrapped his arms tightly around the old man in gratitude.

Cat vs. Dog

It’s ok. I guess you never got it. I’ll send it again then. It was something like they were a couple and live together and wanted to have a pet but Spence doesb’t like dogs and reader hates cats and how they would try to convince each other

I got it this time around!  Here is your much awaited one-shot, nonniepot, comin’ ‘atcha!

“But they aren’t as needy as dogs!” Spencer whines.

“I’m just gonna tell you I’m allergic to them,” you grumble, bending down over the kitchen sink as you begin to scrub the dishes harder.

“No, you’re not.  I’ve seen you around Garcia’s cat,” Spencer states, his brow furrowed on top of his eyes.

“Yeah.  And I’m not thrilled about hers, either.”

The two of you had been going back and forth for months.  Ever since Spencer had come backs from a case that involved animal cruelty on several levels, he had been adamant on adopting a pet from the shelter down the road.

As long as it was the pet he wanted.

“Spencer, we aren’t getting a cat.  They shed like crazy, their meows are piercing, they move around way too much, and their litter box is gross!” you exclaim.

“Well, dogs shed, too!  And there are hairless cats!”

“But those things are ugly!” you shriek.

“And besides, dogs bay…and it’s so annoying!  And they have so much energy!”

“You ever heard of a lap-dog!?” you say, turning your wild eyes to your boyfriend, “I’ve never heard of a lap-cat!?”

“We could train the little kitten to be a lap-cat!” Spencer yells.

“Cats are divas!  They don’t love you, or kiss on you.  They aren’t big enough to hold in bed, or roll around with on the floor.  They don’t play fetch, and you can’t potty train them to pee outside!” you huff, sticking a soapy spoon in Spencer’s face.

“But dogs are buffoons!  They run into walls, and drool on the floor everywhere.  They have to go outside to pee at…like…4 am all the time.  Who’s getting up to take that massive animal to go outside!?” Spencer asks, his voice growing with yours.

“You!” you scream, “Since you’re up and gone by 5 am ANYWAY!”

As Spencer blinks rapidly at you, you sigh and lean your back against the counter, bringing your rubber-gloved hands to your sweaty face and groaning lightly in the palms of your hands.

“Spencer.  I know you want a cat.  But the truth is you’re never going to be home to take care of it.  I’ll be the one changing the litter box, and I’ll be the one dealing with its attitude, and I’ll be the one dealing with its piercing shriek of a meow.  If we’re going to get a pet that I’m gonna be solely responsible for, can’t we at least get one I’ll like?”

Spencer knew, at this point, that not only was she right, but that he had been neglecting his girlfriend.

His wonderful, beautiful, patient girlfriend.

The woman who has stood by his side for 3 years.  The one that gave up her apartment to move in with him.  The one who dropped her career down to part-time so that, when he was home, they had more time to spend together.  The one who kept his home clean, and his fridge full, and his clothes clean.

And his heart warm…

He had been neglecting her.  And the argument over pets wasn’t really about pets.

It was about her opinion, and her wants.

And his respect towards those.

As Spencer stood there, watching his beautiful girlfriend shake her head and turn her back to him as she bent her aching back over the sink to continue with the dishes, he tried to wrack his brain and figure out the last time they had any time together.  The last long weekend or the last vacation.

But he couldn’t come up with anything.

This incredibly patient woman, who had sacrificed so much for him, was surviving off of a few days a month seeing him.

And all she wanted, in return, was a dog.

Backtracking into your shared bedroom, Spencer picks up his cell phone from his bedside drawer, swiping the screen open as he dials his boss.

“Hotch,” the gruff voice answers.

“Hey there,” Spencer starts, “I was wondering…would it be inconvenient if I took some vacation time?”

“Something wrong?” Hotch asks, his voice changing from work to worry.

And Spencer’s heart sank to his toes.

Apparently he only took time off if something was wrong.

Never just to be with you.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I’m uh…I’m ok.  Just…need some time with Y/N, you know?” he says, trying to keep his swelling emotions at bay.

He couldn’t see Hotch’s smile on the other end of the line as he said, “I know.  I’ll take care of the paperwork.  One week?”

And as Spencer turns around, raking his eyes over his girlfriend, whose body is slumped over the steaming water coming from the sink, your hand reaching around to your lower back as you massage it as deep as you can, he feels his hot tears crest his eyes as he says, “Make it two.”

French

How about a married Reid x reader where the reader gets seriously Injured and forgets how to speak English and only speaks French so her husband, Reid, has to teach her English again

As Spencer paces in the waiting room, his hands shoved in his pockets as tears pour down his cheeks, he feels someone put their hands on his shoulders as he quickly turns around.

“She’s gonna be alright, kid,” Derek reassures him.

But before he could get a word in, the doctor comes around the corner.

“Y/F/N Reid?” the doctor asks.

Spencer whirls around, his watering eyes pleading widely with the doctor as the team stands from their chairs.

“Is she alright?” Spencer asks breathlessly.

“Yes and no,” the doctor says matter-of-factly.

Spencer felt his entire body grow weak as his knees begin to clatter.

“She sustained massive trauma to her head during the car crash, and we had to put in a temporary tube to relieve some of the pressure on her brain.”

Spencer couldn’t help the sob that escaped his lips as Hotch walks up behind him.

“Is she alive?” he asks as Spencer tries to gather himself.

“Oh, yes.  She’s stable.  But she’s suffered some memory loss,” the doctor admits.

“W-w-…wait…she’s awake!?” Spencer breathes as his eyes grow wild and rise to meet the doctor’s.

“She’s heavily drugged, but-”

But before the doctor could finish, Spencer had shoved past him, running down the hallway as he skids around the corner.

He didn’t care about his boss yelling after him.

Running down the hallway as he sticks his head into every room, he finally comes to the last door on the right as he darts in, seeing your bruised and battered form hooked up to endless miles of tubing as his breath hitches in his throat.

He felt his fingers tingle as your head slowly pans over, your tired eyes landing on him as he watches your crooked smile lightly cross your face.

“Spencer…” you whisper.

“Y/N,” he breathes, dashing to your side as footsteps approach the room from behind him.

“Qu'est-il arrivé? (What happened?)” you ask.

Light confusion started to waft behind Spencer’s eyes as his hand reaches out, smoothing your frazzled hair from your forehead as his eyes dance along the clear tubing running into various parts of your body.

But she’s suffered some memory loss…

“What kind of memory loss has she sustained?” Hotch says as him and the doctor approach your hospital room door.

“She’s French, right?” the doctor asks.

“No…?” Hotch says as he furrows his brow deeply at the doctor, “…but she is fluent in the French language.”

And just as Hotch went to go ask another question, he heard Spencer’s voice waft around the doorframe.

“Can you understand me?” Spencer asks.

The glazed over look on your face confirmed his brewing theory as another tear slips down Spencer’s cheek, his hand reaching forth as he cups your bruised cheek lightly.

“Pouvez-vous me comprendre maintenant? (Can you understand me now?)” Spencer asks.

“Mon beau mari (My beautiful husband)…” you trail off.

“She can’t speak English any longer…?” Hotch asks as the doctor and him slowly slide into your ICU room.

“It’s such a rare phenomenon that doctor’s never even consider it when dealing with victims who are dealt amnesia from head trauma.  But, yes.  She’s completely lost the ability to communicate in English.”

“Is this permanent?” Hotch asks.

“I have no idea.  In my 30 years of experience, I’ve never even had a colleague come into contact with this kind of thing,” the doctor admits.

“Quelque chose ne va pas, non? (Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” you croak out before swallowing thickly as panic rises in your chest.

Your heart monitor began to speed up with your anxiousness as Spencer dips in and captures your lips in a light kiss.

“Sssshhh sh sh sh…calmer, ma chérie. Tu es en vie. Tout est très bien (…calm down.  You are alive.  Everything is just fine),” Spencer murmurs against your lips.

You felt yourself relaxing wholly at his touch.

“Je suis vraiment désolé (I’m so sorry),” you begin, your sobs getting caught in your throat as Spencer raises his hand to run his fingers through your matted hair.

“Je suis tellement contente que tu sois vivant (I’m just so glad you’re alive),” Spencer chokes out before he nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours.

“Y/N?” Spencer whispers.

“Hmm?” you hum as you close your eyes.

“Vous savez que le français est pas votre langue maternelle , non? (You know that French isn’t your first language, right?)”

You could feel Spencer’s breathing pick up with his nerves as you raise your aching arm, your battered and tubed hand coming around as you settle your palm onto his trembling cheek.

“Oui… (Yes…)” you confirm.

The entire team was standing outside of your room, tears threatening to spill over as their hearts ache for you and Spencer’s predicament.

“At least he can understand her,” Derek breathes.

“Spencer?” you ask, choking back a sob as he lightly kisses the tip of your nose.

“Oui mon amour? (Yes, my love?)”

“Voulez-vous me enseigner l'anglais? (Would you teach me English?)” you ask, your eyes searching his as a light smile crosses his face.

And as Spencer reaches up and wraps his hand around yours that is still holding his cheek, he brings it down and presses it to his heart, his eyes dancing along your face as you feel his heart beat underneath your fingertips.

“I love you,” Spencer breathes.

Furrowing your brow lightly in confusion, he brings the tips of your fingers to his lips, kissing them lightly before placing your hand back over his heart.

“Je t'aime…” he whispers as your eyes light up in recognition.

“I love you,” he says lowly again.

“I love you…aussi, (too,),” you repeat back as a light smile graces Spencer’s lips.

How you loved those lips.

“’Aussi’ est ‘too’ (’Aussi’ is ‘too’),” Spencer says.

And as you raise up, a grimace on your face as your lips encompass Spencer’s, he wraps his arms quickly around your back to steady your body in mid-air as you revel in the warmth of his skin.

“I love you, too, Spencer,” you breathe.

MASTERLIST

Maeve (1/2) (Spencer Reid)

Perfect (Spencer Reid

Victim (Spencer Reid)

Choieces (Matthew Gray Gubler)

A love problem (Matthew Gray Gubler)

It was important (Matthew Gray Gubler)

Don’t kill my wife (Spencer Reid)

Get the man back (Spencer Reid)

Loved by the team (Spencer Reid)

Seesaws (Spencer Reid)

Visiting room (Spencer Reid)

Overwhelmed (Spencer Reid)

Sleepless (Spencer Reid)

Cramps (Spencer Reid)

Knife (Spencer Reid)

Blood problem (Spencer Reid)

Kicker (Spencer Reid)

Thanks Doyle (Spencer Reid)

A million times again (Spencer Reid)

Drugged (1/2) (Spencer Reid)

Ballet dancer (Spencer Reid)

Prove it (Spencer Reid)

Something good happened (Spencer Reid)

Jealous of the new blonde (1/2) (Spencer Reid)

Feeling like a clown (Spencer Reid)

Not your turn (Spencer Reid)

Doctors Reid (1/2/3/4) (Spencer Reid)

Photos on internet (Matthew Gray Gubler)

That tombstone (1/2) (Spencer Reid)

It wasn’t planned to happen (Spencer Reid)

Whale (Spencer Reid)

She was alive (Spencer Reid)

Go Reid (Spencer Reid)

A strange job for a strange woman (Spencer Reid)

Scared of the UnSub (Spencer Reid)

A boy or a girl? (Spencer Reid)

Normal people (Spencer Reid)

Reid, calm down (Spencer Reid)

As a male or as a female (Spencer Reid)

Why didn’t you tell me? (1/2/3) (Spencer Reid)

The forgotten badge (Spencer Reid)

Tears over rudeness (Spencer Reid)

Derek’s little sister (Spencer Reid)

Chemistry (Matthew Gray Gubler)

The door (Spencer Reid)

It’s all about ears (Spencer Reid)

That’s a shame (Spencer Reid)

You seem mom (Spencer Reid)

It is nothing (Spencer Reid)

I am not a bartender (Spencer Reid)

Updated materlist!

If I Had Known

A/N: An anon request for a Spencer x Reader where they are best friends. She’s in love with him, but he’s been wrapped up in Maeve and hasn’t noticed. When Maeve gets taken by Diane, the reader saves her. I decided to do this from Spencer’s POV, using I and me, so it may read a little differently. @coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @hogwarts-konoha

Warnings: Depressing thoughts. Depictions of blood.

                                                                —–

What the hell was she doing? My best friend could not possibly be doing what I thought she was doing. After five years, she’d know that putting herself in the line of fire was the last thing I wanted. Right? The woman I loved already had a gun pointed at her head, I couldn’t bear it if something happened to my best friend and confidant too.

The bullet had grazed my arm, blood pooling in a small puddle at my feet as the rest of the team came in, guns drawn and ready to shoot. Desperation had flooded Maeve’s eyes and I couldn’t do anything to help her. I couldn’t win with Diane. She was going to kill the only woman I’d ever loved, and then Y/N had said those words. “Take me instead.”

“What?” Diane asked, clearly surprised at the gesture.

“Take me instead,” Y/N said again, more steadily than before. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were a twister of emotions. She glanced at me through her peripherals and then toward Maeve, her gaze floating between us both, and it was then that I knew I had the best friend anyone could ever ask for; she was willing to put her life on the line for the woman I loved. “I’ll take her place.”

“Y/N, don’t do this,” I whispered. There was no guarantee that Maeve would be safe either way. Putting Y/N in harm’s way as well hardly seemed worth the risk; Diane could easily take them both from me. 

But Diane could see the fear in my eyes and that had been enough to take her up on her offer; Diane wanted what she could never have, undying love and affection, and she would take it away from anyone she saw fit. “Come here. Then I’ll let her go.”

As Y/N moved in her direction, I could tell she had no intention of letting either of them go, and sure enough, as soon as Y/N was in Diane’s grasp, she cocked the gun. Y/N stomped down on Diane’s toes, causing her to stumble back in pain. Within seconds, Y/N had pushed Maeve toward me and taken a bullet to the stomach, after which Diane fell to the ground in a hail of bullets. “Y/N!” I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that Maeve was safe and Y/N had her vest on, but as I fell to the ground at her side, I could see thick pools of crimson liquid flooding the dip in her stomach; the bullet hit just underneath the vest. “No, no, no!” I cried, pushing my hands down onto her stomach to try and stop the bleeding.

The tears stung at the corners of my eyes as she stared blankly up at me, in a daze, before realizing where she was. “I’m cold,” she said softly.

“Don’t. Don’t leave me.”

“Spence,” she breathed. She reached her hand up to the side of my face, her delicate fingers wiping the tears from my eyes. “I love you, you know that right?”

“Don’t,” I said emphatically. “You’re going to be fine.”

She smiled sadly. “I don’t think I am.” As the floodgates opened, and the tears fell in droves, she continued. “I would do it again, Spence. It’s not your fault. Be happy. Love her. And know that I’ve always loved you. So so much.”

In a panic, I tried pushing harder on her stomach, watching as the blood rushed through my fingers and down onto the concrete floor. Nearly inaudible declarations of love fell from her lips as the ambulance drew closer, but when I pulled my hands away, I looked upward, her eyes now glazed over; the light had gone out. “No!” 

With Maeve behind me, I fell to the floor and screamed until my throat burned raw, going numb as life passed around me - Maeve still at my side. “I’m sorry.”

I wanted to say it was okay, that it wasn’t her fault, but nothing would come out. Instead, I stood up after what felt like hours and wordlessly brought Maeve to an ambulance, before moving to one of my own, my mind focusing on only one thing - Y/N, my best friend, gone, so that my love could live. How was I supposed to reconcile that? “Spence,” JJ said. The name made me snap my head up in hope. Y/N and JJ were the only two who called me that, and for a moment I thought it was her. “I-I’m sorry.”

“She kept saying she loved me,” I said. “She kept saying she loved me and I couldn’t help her.”

JJ put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a slight squeeze. I could always count on her to make me feel better, even in the darkest of times. “I’m so sorry, but she’d do it again in a heartbeat. She’d been in love with you for so long. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for you.”

“What?” I asked, my mouth agape as I turned toward her. What did she mean Y/N was in love with me? She was my best friend. If she’d had feelings for me, she would’ve said something, wouldn’t she?

My friend looked at me confused. “I’m sorry,” she said, stuttering over her words as she stood up from my side and hugged her jacket closer to her frame. “I thought you knew.”

A lingering look hung between us before she walked away with tears in her eyes, leaving me to contemplate everything I’d come to know over the last few months. I’d been in love with Maeve, but my best friend, whom I loved with all my heart, was in love with me, and I hadn’t even noticed. What must she have felt like in her final minutes, knowing that I had no idea of her feelings for me? “I’m a horrible person,” I whispered to no one. My best friend was in love with me and gave her life so I could love someone else. “I’m a horrible person.”

“You’re not a horrible person,” Maeve said. “She wouldn’t have done what she did if you were.” She stepped closer to me, stretching her hands out to embrace me - that thing we’d been longing to do for months, but now it felt wrong. “I need a moment alone.”

Nodding, Maeve claimed she understood - that she knew I needed time. But in all honesty, I didn’t know how much time I’d need, or if there would ever be enough to soothe the sharp, stabbing ache in my heart. After getting in a cab, I ended up at a lake that Y/N and I frequented when we wanted to spend the day together. Without a care for who was around or whether anyone would hear me, I craned my head to the cloudless, deep, dark night and screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping somewhere up in that great big sky where all the gods apparently lived, one of them might here my cries and send me a sign - something to tell me how I should feel, because the moment Y/N’s eyes glazed over had been the same moment I’d gone numb. I couldn’t feel anything. Just as I couldn’t save her, I imagined I wouldn’t be able to save myself.

Shades of Grey

Request: Multiple requests for a soulmate AU.

Word Count: 2,405 (Longest fic to date :D)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

A/N: This is a repost from my old account, so if the story/plotline seems familiar, it probably is. :) 

The title is a reference to the Jasper Fforde book, not the E. L. James trilogy. Totally different books. I wanted to clear that up beforehand. ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spencer Reid had his quirks. He hated modern technology, and he blamed this on multiple readings of Bradbury and Orwell in his early years, efficiently scaring him into getting rid of all electronics in his room out of fear of Big Brother and the like, spare his miniature television, VCR player, and box of recorded Doctor Who and Mystery Science Theater 3000 episodes. He was incredibly socially awkward. In fact, he marveled at the amount of friends he had been able to rack up despite his constant rambling and bouts of statistics. And, the most annoying of all, he was a germophobe through and through, which was extremely unfortunate taking into consideration the natural order of the world he lived in.

Soulmates, the unfortunate law of nature he was getting at was soulmates. The one person he would be completely perfect for in every possible way and vice-versa; the one person he could be honest and open with, that he could love and cherish; the one person out of billions of people that could only be found with a simple touch, a brush of the hand that would introduce him to a chromatic world he could only read about. And he was terrified. He’d known that to find this person would mean coming into physical contact with another person he did not yet know, a stranger, crawling with germs and bacteria and possible diseases whom he was supposed to love. He really hated his memory sometimes, and regretted reading so many medical journals at a young age.

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Fanfiction Writer Appreciation!

As it turns out, today, August 21st, is fan fiction writer appreciation day! So to celebrate and show appreciation for all of those selfless writers who dedicate so much of their time and energy into crafting brilliant fics for the world to read, I wanted to compile a list of some of my favorite writers and one of my personal favorites by them. I highly recommend that you go and follow these lovely people, if you aren’t already, and show them, as well as their writing, some love! They are all so incredibly talented and work so incredibly hard to create top of the line fan fiction. So without further ado and in particular order, here are some of my favorite gems in the Criminal Minds Writing Fandom.

So It Goes / Spencer Reid

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“Oh, Spencer took that one...”

so i read @reidbyers’s ask post about librarians and spencer and while reading it, this sentence caught my attention: “sometimes he takes so many books out that a lot of the time people come in looking for a certain book and they have to be like sorry…spencer took that one and 21 more.” and it gave me an idea/insp for a small little one shot, so thanks @wheresthewater and @reidbyers for unknowingly giving me this idea! also i’m so sorry if this feels rushed! 

While studying to get your doctorate in Psychology, you were fortunate enough to have every book you need for all of your classes at your fingertips, whether having your parents supply them for you or finding links to it online. While writing a paper, you noticed the assignment had some references from your very early Intro to Psych book. You realized quickly that you were going to need to go to the library; you had since given that book to a nice underclassman. 

You didn’t mind, but occasionally, a book you wanted to check out would be gone and they always said the same thing.

“Sorry honey, it looks like Spencer has that book out at the moment.”

“Well it looks like Dr. Reid has that book.”

“Yup. Spencer again.”

It seemed like every time you needed a book from the library, Dr. Spencer Reid would check it out before you. The three main, kind elderly librarians found it amusing every time you mentioned a book he had checked out. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were conspiring against you.

Sighing, you grabbed your shoulder bag and keys and made your way out of your brick brownstone apartment building. “If this Spencer has my book this time, I might just scream…” You muttered to yourself as you walked down the street. Luckily the library was only a few blocks from your place. You could smell the air and could tell it was going to rain. You picked up your pace.

Walking in the large building, you smelled the books and smiled. 

“Well hi, baby, what’re you looking for?” Came from Franny, your favorite librarian, knowing your routine by now.

“Hi Franny,” you grinned at her. “Do you have this book?” You handed her a crumbled piece of paper with the title of the book on it.

“Hmm,” Franny entered the title in her desktop and smiled knowingly. “I’m sorry hone–”

“Let me guess,” you rolled your eyes.

“Spencer has it,” you both said in unison. One cheerfully, and one tired. You guess who’s who.

“God, I’d love to give this Spencer a piece of my mind,” you shook your head. “He consistently checks out every book I want and I actually need this one!” You exclaimed. 

“What for?” Franny asked. 

“It’s my final. Our professor decided against a test final and just gave us a paper final. It counts for over half our grade and I know if I use the material in this book, I know I’ll ace that final…you see, I’m gonna make a callback reference to our intro to psycho book that’s gonna tie up my entire paper in a cute little bow.” You rambled, a bad habit you’ve gained whenever you become desperate for something. “I’m sorry,” you said. “You probably didn’t need to hear this, Franny.” You shook your head. “I’ll just check back tomorrow,” you turned and left quickly.

If you looked back, you’d seen Franny pursing her lips, pick up the phone, and dial a number. “Hi Spencer. It’s Franny. I’m sorry to bother you but I have a need for a book you checked out.”

You chewed on your lip as you walked into the library for the third day in a row. You weren’t expecting the book to be there today or any other day, but you had to at least check. Especially since your paper was due in three days. You inhaled as the familiar smell reached you again, a smile on your face, placating you for the time being. Today at the desk, was Esther, a particularly nosy woman.

“Hi Esther, any luck today?” You asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Actually, maybe!” She answered you. “Spencer is coming by today to drop off some books and pick some up, so maybe your book will be in the bunch!” She offered. 

You raised your eyebrow. “With my luck, probably not. But I finally get to meet this allusive Spencer.” You took a seat at the bench next to the main desk where the librarians worked and pulled out your laptop. It was a normal seat for you whenever you wanted to spend time at the library.

“Do you want some lemon bars, sweetie?” Esther, the known cook of the three main librarians, placed two lemon bars next to you. 

“Thank you, Esther,” you grinned thankfully at her. 

Deep into your studies, you didn’t noticed that an hour had gone past or that the other two librarians, Franny and Dorothy snuck in.

“Is he comin’?” Dorothy, with her deep southern accent, asked. 

“Yes, Dorothy. He told me he’d be here at 4:15 and that boy never lies to me,” Esther replied, rolling her eyes.

“You sure this is gonna work?” Franny asked, pushing her gray curls aside. “What if they don’t like each other?”

“Fran, those two couldn’t be a better match. My Henry (God rest his soul) told me I had a knack for seeing lovers,” Esther nodded. 

“That’s cuz you were always putting your nose in places it shouldn’t be –” Franny began to rebut but was interrupted by Dorothy. 

“Shhh, he’s coming!”

Sure enough, walking to the desk was Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU. Trademark cardigan, scarf, and shoulder bag on. “Hi ladies, is something special going on? It’s rare to see you all here at the same time. Although I get the library’s newsletter sent to me every month and I didn’t see any events happening today to warrant you all here at the same time today.” He began to ramble. 

“Oh Spencer, don’t you worry about us,” Franny waved him off.

At the mention of the familiar name, your head popped up.

“I see you’re returning some books. May I check them in for you? Y/N here has been needing one you might have for quite some time now,” Dorothy grabbed the books from Spencer’s hand and slid them over to Esther. “Now leave us old ladies be to check these back in.” She shooed him away.

“So you’re the famous Spencer Reid,” you said as you saw him approach the bench next to you. “I’m not sure if its a pleasure to meet you or not,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Excuse me?” Spencer was taken aback. He saw you and blinked. You were beautiful. His mouth went dry, his heart stuttered, he felt a wave of adrenaline rush through him. 

You couldn’t help yourself. No matter how good looking he turned out to be, you thought to yourself. The rage built. “Every time I want to check out a book from here, you always have it, every single time! And sometimes you keep the books for months on end!” You huffed.

“Statistically, that’s impossible. There’s no possible way that every single time you need a book, I somehow have it,” Spencer challenged. Your voice sounded beautiful to his ears. He wanted to hear more of it. At least when it wasn’t filled with anger.

“Ladies?” You asked the librarians, without turning your back from Spencer.

“Yup.”

“Mhm.”

“Every single time.” Came their replies.

“…” Spencer had no reply to the three snarky librarians.

“Hmm,” you smirked at Spencer.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said sincerely. “I didn’t know. If I did, I would’ve eagerly give you the books you needed.” I’d give you anything you want or need, his thoughts said, catching him off guard.

“Oh.” Your heart stuttered. He’s so sweet. And handsome. And obviously he reads since he consistently checks books out from here. And you weren’t expecting this response from him. You were fully expecting him to be this alpha male with a bunch of bravado. “W-well, thank you.”

“What book did you need so urgently that Franny called me?” Spencer couldn’t help but ask, the profiler in him begging to do so. The man in him, curious to hear more from her.

You told him the title. “I need it for my final paper. I-I’m getting my doctorate in psychology and I need it for one of my classes.” 

“Spencer has three PhDs,” Esther added, boasting. 

“Esther, hush,” Franny smacked her shoulder. “Let the kids do it by themselves,” she whispered to her.

“Three?” You were impressed. “Wow. You’d have to be kind of a genius to have three PhDs.” You said non nonchalantly. 

“Well, certifiably, I am a genius. I have an IQ of 185 and can read 20,000 words per minute and have an eidetic memory, but I don’t necessarily like to call myself a genius,” Spencer bashfully said. 

“Whoa…” You breathed. “But you’re totally one. A wonderful, brilliant genius,” the statement accidentally slipped out of your mouth and you blushed.

Spencer laughed, blushing as well. “Thank you.” 

You and Spencer engaged in small talk during the time the librarians were checking in more books. In the back of your mind, you were wondering why they were taking so long. They never take this long. But in your Spencer filled haze, you didn’t care. You smiled at each other, both of you taking in the beauty of each other’s smiles. You quickly moved your stuff aside for him to take a seat next to you on the bench. He quickly glanced at your laptop and instantly read part of your paper. The topic quickly jumped to psychology which jumped into talking about people’s minds, which, thanks to Spencer, jumped to odd facts. You were amazing by this man and all he had to offer. He had given you some extra facts to put into your paper.

Meanwhile, the librarians were smiling at the two of you, silently cheering you both on. The women had never seen Spencer smile as large as he did with you and you had never opened up so quickly to another person. It took even Esther a few months before you even gave her a smile. 

From then on, you and Spencer had a standing date at the library. In your bench. Occasionally Spencer would check out a book you’d randomly mentioned before just to rile you up. He was never able to live down the encounter that caused you to meet. While studying one night, Spencer rushed into the library and planted a kiss on your lips, changing your relationship with that. While he made the first move in your relationship, you made the first move in the bedroom. He was scared of his inexperience and you talked him through it. He proved to be a quick learner and with him reading smut novels for experiences and ideas in the bed, you were never ever unsatisfied.  

You both adopted a dog, which you named Esther because of the dog’s keen sense of smell. Esther found it hilarious and promptly kissed you both on the cheek. “About time you named something after me! I’d better get a baby named after me!” She cackled. 

The team noticed he was always happier and sometimes would walk in with his hair and ties ruffled. Luke could’ve sworn he saw a hickie on Spencer’s neck during a case. When he asked the boy genius about it, he immediately blushed at the memory.

“I want to try something,” you said shyly one night. 

“What?” Spencer smiled, holding you in his lap. He furrowed his brow at your shyness. You’d gotten over that long before. 

“I know you have sensory issues, but…I just want you to feel. Don’t think, but feel,” you told him as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“I don–” He was cut off by you kissing his neck. He laughed, “Y/N, I have no problem with you kissing my — oh.” He felt a wet vacuum on his neck. He could feel your tongue working on his neck, the feeling new to him. It caused a stirring in his body. The same stirring he got when he was aroused. He couldn’t help himself as he grabbed your face and kissed you.

“Spence, I wasn’t done!” You exclaimed. 

Spencer quickly removed your shirt. “And I’m just getting started,” he smiled.

Time passed quickly, yet slowly in your relationship. You were both so happy together. You didn’t know if you could be happier. He had come to your graduation, where you first met the team. They were suspicious and thought he relapsed so they followed him to you. The team loved you instantly. You quickly became a part of the family. JJ and Derek often called you and Spencer to baby sit. You kept your standing date at the library, even though you had no need of studying anymore. The three librarians always happy to see you both.

One day you went to the library to see all of them there. That never happened. Unless, like Spencer said the day you met, there was an event. And you knew there wasn’t. “What’re you ladies doing here?” You asked cheerfully.

“Oh no reason, darlin’,” Dorothy told you, looking like the cat who swallowed the canary. Actually, they all looked like that. 

To your surprise, Spencer proposed to you. In that library. On that bench. The squeals from the ladies were deafening. You swore they cheered even louder than Spencer’s team at your wedding. They each made long toasts, the guests confused at first. Esther’s was full of details you both hadn’t known she knew. “Nosy old bat,” Franny had said. Esther had the entire room cackle with laughter. Dorothy’s speech was filled with many, many southern phrasings and accounts of key moments of your relationship which she was witness to. She was always the one you came to during struggles in your relationship. And Franny’s was filled with wisdom, love, and hope. She was the one who orchestrated your first meeting.

No one was surprised, however, when you became pregnant immediately after your wedding; the both of you eager to start a family. Everyone was surprised when your water broke in that fateful library. On your bench. While Spencer panicked and called, in order, the team, then the ambulance. Luckily the three ladies had all enrolled in midwifery quickly after your first meeting and helped you deliver your first child, Diana Dorothy, in that library. On your bench. 

You were happy to inform Esther, a year after giving birth to your first son, that his first word was ‘Esther’. “This is better than having a baby named after me!” She hooted.

Unfortunately, with the times, the three ladies eventually passed. Esther first, Dorothy quickly after, then Franny held on long enough to see the birth of your third child, a girl you’d decided to call Francis Esther. In each of the ladies’ will, there was one statement that remained the same. “Give the library bench to Drs. Spencer and Y/N Reid. It has always been theirs.” 

That bench sat in the library of your home with Spencer, underneath a beautiful window where you’d told your children stories of the three ladies who were responsible for everything they knew. 

HOLY SHIT GUYS. THIS HAS SURPASSED 600 NOTES. I’M SO FLATTERED AND JUST BLOWN AWAY AT THE RESPONSE TO THIS. I THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE GOING TO HATE THIS.