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foxy-eva · 8 months

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Remedy

Summary: Spencer finally has someone to take care of him when he has a migraine

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Category: Comfort, Fluff

Content Warning: migraines, sensitivity to light, taking a bath together

Word Count: 800

Masterlist

Even though you knew Spencer had to be home, there was complete silence in the apartment when you stepped inside. It was hard to see anything with all the curtains closed, just a slight golden shimmer daring to shine through the fabric covering the windows.

Quietly you walked into the bedroom where you found your boyfriend lying on the bed with one of his hands covering his face, still fully dressed in his usual work attire. You weren't sure if he was even awake when you approached the bedside until he moved his fingers away from his eyes to look at you for a second.

"Migraine?" You asked as you sat down beside him.

"Yes," he confirmed before closing his eyes once more.

Your fingertips made contact with the soft curls hanging into his face, carefully brushing them aside.

"I'm so sorry you're not feeling well," you whispered. "What can I do?"

"Nothing," he whined. "I'm sorry."

You decided that as long as it wouldn't make his headache worse, offering him company was all you could do for now.

"Why are you apologizing?" You asked as you kicked off your shoes to lay down beside him.

"Because I promised to take you out for dinner."

He didn't move when you tried to cuddle up with him, lying beside you all rigid and obviously uncomfortable.

"We'll do it another time. It's okay," you reassured him.

"No it's not," he groaned. "I couldn't even take a shower. I feel gross."

You sat up to look at him but his eyes were still closed. You wanted to comfort him despite knowing that it wouldn't work.

"You're not gross, I promise."

Spencer didn't seem convinced and only huffed out some air instead of an answer. After being with him for quite some time now you knew that he wouldn't be able to get comfortable and relax like that.

After thinking about it for a moment, you suggested, "How about we take a bath together? I can help you wash your hair."

To your surprise there was no resistance from him, instead he just mumbled, "Okay."

You left his side to fill up the bathtub, making sure that the water was just the right temperature. A few droplets of lavender oil in the water quickly let a subtle and relaxing scent spread through the room. You gathered a couple of candles and lit them, aware that any harsh light would worsen Spencer's headache.

When everything was prepared you took your boyfriend's hand to pull him into a standing position. Carefully you helped him shed his clothes before placing a tender kiss on his cheek. The innocent gesture let a small smile form on his face.

You led him into the bathroom and motioned for him to step into the tub. After ridding yourself of your own clothes, you stepped into the water and sat down behind him. As you began to knead the tight muscles of his neck and shoulders, a relieved sigh fell from Spencer's lips.

You leaned forward to give his cheek another little kiss before whispering, "How are you feeling?"

"Better, now that you're here."

After getting his hair wet you started spreading shampoo over his scalp. As you began massaging his head you felt how the tensions slowly left his body. A warmth spread through your chest when you noticed that those tender motions helped relieve his pain.

"That feels really nice," he breathed.

Spencer deserved to be taken care of and you'd be happy to spend the entire evening doing just that. Even when you were sure that all of his hair was already clean, you kept going with those comforting motions until your fingers got tired.

After rinsing the shampoo you began working some conditioner into his curls, making sure his beautiful hair would look just as good as always. When the both of you were clean, you helped him out of the tub and wrapped him into a bathrobe before he lay back down on the bed again.

When you joined him on the mattress he wanted to put his arm around your body to let you curl into his side but you stopped him and said, "Let me hold you, Spencer."

It took him a moment to understand. Once he did, he turned to his side to let you press your chest into his back and wrap your arm tightly around him. Holding him like that let your heart skip a beat and it made you feel closer to him with every minute passing. It wasn't easy for Spencer to let someone care for him like that but you knew how much he appreciated it.

Quieter than before, you heard your boyfriend whisper, "Thank you for being here."

"Of course," you cooed before you began giggling. "Don't get used to this position though. I still prefer to be the little spoon."

And even though you weren't able to see it, you still knew that your words made him smile.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this story you should check out my Blurb Collection!

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds comfort #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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v1olentdelights · 7 months

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We'll Be Waiting For You

bau x fem!reader Summary: What was supposed to be a fun surprise, turned into something much worse. TW: Kidnapping, blood, drugging, torture (self inflicted, it is just cutting but please don't read if that is triggering), the mention of bugs (guys I couldn't think of anything else), and probably bad writing. ALSO!! Spoilers for Mr. Scratch! I am actually awful at recounting things, so I know this is wrong, but for the sake of the fic, lets pretend it isn't a/n: I apologize for the plot holes, there are definitely pieces that don't go along with the actual storyline, and I'm probably adding people in at the wrong times, but please enjoy! @shadowmoonlight0604 you inspired me to write a pt 2, so thank you! <3 This is so bad, I am so sorry

You had spent a few years in Europe, and over that time you had come back to visit as much as you could. You have seen things change every trip back. One of those being Aaron and Jack being put into protective custody. You were able to see him one last time via facetime, it had ended in a long conversation with a final decision that you both were safer if you stopped seeing one another. For Jack’s and your safety. And though it hurt, you knew it would be what’s best for all of you.

After that you decided that it was time for you to come home. After talking with the new lead, Emily Prentiss, and your longtime best friend, you were invited back to the BAU. It was meant to be a surprise, you even had it planned out you would be sitting down at your old desk with a cup of coffee. And of course would make some comment about how they finally replaced the coffee machine. But what was supposed to be a fun surprise, turned into something much worse.

It was an early Monday morning, you had brought a bag full of some small goodies for your team, and even something for the new recruits. It felt good to be back in Quantico, in the stain ridden parking garage that had a certain weird smell to it. What you hadn’t expected was to have the back of your leg cut as you stepped out of the car, maybe you had been out of the profiling gig too long, or maybe they were just that good. It didn’t matter which it was, all that mattered was that as soon as you fell to the ground someone was on top of you and shoving something over your mouth. You knew better than to breathe in, but you could only hold your breath for so long.

“Come on little bird, take a breath.” the person said. And though you tried, you couldn’t help but gasp for air, and you knew it was over.

— — — —

It was that time of morning where everyone had filed in but weren't quite awake enough to be fully working. Penelope had perched herself on the edge of Luke Alvez’s desk while making conversation with him and JJ. Tara Lewis, Matt Simmons, and Spencer were in a deep discussion about the actual effects of coffee as the latter two were worried about Spencer's consumption. But Rossi storming in caught everyone’s attention.

“Prentiss, her car is here but the driver side door was left open and her coffee is cold.” There was some kind of urgency in his voice that had everyone shedding the morning drowsiness. Emily stepped out of her office, holding her phone to her ear.

“I know, she won’t pick up my calls.” Panic was written all over their faces. Spencer had now gotten up from his seat and made his way towards where Emily stood.

“Who?” he was almost scared to ask.

“Well what was supposed to be a surprise, is now a case. Y/N was coming back-”

“Is. You mean she is coming back to work!” Penelope interrupted, Luke had put his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

“Let’s get going then.” Emily put on her Unit Chief tone, putting her team to work.

— — — —

“Wake up, little bird.” You felt something brush against your stomach, your shoulder ached, and you were sure that you were drenched in sweat. “Don’t make me ask again.” This time the brush against your stomach was more forceful, almost like something was trying to grab you. Instinctually, you sucked your stomach in. “Oh so she is awake.” The person grabbed your hair and yanked it so you were forced to meet their eyes, slowly you opened yours.

If you hadn’t been scared and weren’t currently tied up, you’d think the gray eyes were beautiful. All you could do was see Spencer’s face, his teary eyes when you said goodbye to him before you left. You had heard about all he had been through since you left, and all you want to do now is hug him. Suddenly it hit you that the only people who knew you were back in town for good, or even at all, were Emily and David. You had almost wished they would stay out of this, but a bigger part of you started to count the minutes until they found you.

“There she is.” Taking in his appearance you almost wanted to shrink away from him, and it was only because of his awfully horrific smile. “BAU Princess, if you ask me. Emily was so excited to see you too, her last message was; ‘Y/N I made sure your usual parking spot is open for you! I have a little gift for you too, see you soon!’ I mean, exclamation points from the Unit Chief, that seems pretty big to me.” You tried to look away from him, but his grip on your face was almost bruisingly strong.

“What do you want?” you asked as passively as you could, you didn’t know anything about this man, it was best to try and keep the situation from escalating by remaining neutral. Looking around a bit, you noticed you were in a cage-like structure, great.

“I just want to have a bit of fun, you see, I have been watching you for a long time. I have watched your team even longer, and I know you mean oh so much to them.” Letting go of your face he takes a few steps back and reaches to grab a mask, one resembling a gas mask. At this point, you know there is no reason to try and get away from it, so you simply accept the gas that then fills the room. Your brain began to grow fuzzy, but it almost felt nice.

— — — —

Seeing your face up on the board was more than enough to get the whole team to give 110%. They had pulled every file about you that they had access to. They also gathered the case files from some of the major cases they had worked on with you.

“Guys, I think we are overlooking the obvious suspect.” Luke hadn’t ever met you, but from your files, you seemed like a reasonable person. “I know none of us want it to be true, but Mr. Scratch has been attacking us. What if he took her?” The room was silent, Emily finally spoke up.

“Okay, then we need to get one step ahead of him. How do we do that?” She looked around the table at everyones expressions, anger, hurt, and guilt. “She is strong, we know this. Let’s channel our anger into finding her, not worrying about her.”

“Easier said than done.” Rossi muttered under his breath.

— — — —

You couldn’t tell how long it has been since you were taken. But you were lucky enough to know that the man would take his sweet time getting to you.

“There is another one!” you felt something tickling your leg, when you looked down you saw another massive bug. Why were there so many? It felt as if you had been slashing at bugs for hours. You were told to cut and slice, and only when you were given the order to stab, would you follow through, it was only a few times . “Oh no…” the voice sounded nervous, which only spurred your anxiety and fear more.

“WHAT?!” You cried out at the thought of another bug.

“It's right on your upper arm now.” With that information you began frantically cutting around your left arm, it felt like it was stinging, but that was probably just the bug crawling around. “You’ve almost got it.” a few moments later “You did it!” Letting out a cry of relief you dropped the knife.

You couldn’t make much out, but there was a lot of red around you. Red means blood. Blood means bad things, usually that someone is hurt. You slowly started to piece together why the blood was so close to you. “I think it’s time for a nap.” Suddenly gas filled the room again, but this time you wanted to fight back.

“NO! No, don't do this! I can’t walk! PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU!!” But your words began to slur, and you knew it was over.

“Goodnight little bird.”

— — — —

It had been hours, now being well into the late evening, everyone seemed to be defeated, coffee cups were strewn across the table along with some take out boxes. Just when the team thought they were getting nowhere, Penelope and Spencer had somehow triangulated an approximate spot where you were likely being kept.

“Okay, pack up everyone!” Emily announced while tossing her blazer to the side. The team packed up in the cars and were speeding off.

— — — —

You were chained up by the wrists again, this time though, you were a little more aware of your surroundings. Something you were sure of was that you were in your underwear and your work blouse. The neat updo you had in the morning was falling out, there was sweat on your face, probably from the stress and thrashing around. The worst thing, however, was the blood. You could feel it dripping down your left arm, a trickle of it went over your armpit and you could feel it seeping into your bra. Then there were your legs. With the way you were strung up, your toes were holding you up, but you could feel blood collecting there as well. There was a small puddle collecting around your feet that threatened to make you slip and break your wrists.

“How is my little bird doing?” You hated his voice, it was disgusting. Turning away he clicked his tongue, before digging into one of the deeper cuts on your left arm eliciting a yelp. “We only have a small amount of time together, so I suggest you cooperate or I will dispose of you.” You took a moment to contemplate your options. Would death be better than the embarrassment of being found? You had already lost so much.

“I’m fine.” You spit in his face. He simply smirked, and it made you want to vomit.

“Well, I have enjoyed our time together, little bird, though I must get going. I want you to remember all of this, take it all in.” And then he turned to leave you.

— — — —

The team was restless the whole ride to the warehouse, some even went as far as to put their vests on. Though as they pulled to a stop, Emily made a move to stop everyone from entering. “We need to wait for backup.” It wasn’t a suggestion.

“Like hell we are going to wait! One of our own is in there. Y/N is in there!” JJ exclaimed. And before Emily even got the chance to protest, Luke pushed past her. Spencer, Matt, and JJ followed behind him.

“Screw it.” Rossi followed up behind her as they entered the building.

A few minutes after entering, Luke came over the coms saying he had caught sight of Scratch and was going to pursue, JJ and Tara followed him. Now it was up to the others to find you.

— — — —

It had been such an exhausting day, and at this point you didn’t know what was real, things were still fuzzy. And you certainly did not expect the man to come back, but the rattling of the cage walls told you. It seemed pathetic, especially given that you had just spit in his face, but you were scared. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prepared for the worst.

“NO, please I can’t take it anymore!” you let the tears fall, telling yourself you could be strong another day. “I will do anything else, please!” what would Aaron think if he were here?

“Hey, hey, hey, It’s okay. You’re safe now.” This voice was different, more calming. But it could be a lie.

“No. No, really. I can’t do this, please just- just don’t.” Unbeknownst to you it was the newest member of the BAU, Matt, and that Spencer and Rossi had entered the room as well, Emily surveyed the surrounding area, just in case.

“I’m going to get you down, but you have to promise to try and be still. I don’t want to hurt your wrists more than they already are. Okay?” And for some reason you put your faith in the unknown. As you shook your head you felt hands on your wrists, and they hurt so very bad. But the touch was gentle. You felt the release before you heard the click, and your whole body gave out. The person caught you and slowly brought your body to the ground. “There we go.”

Opening your eyes you saw that it wasn’t the man from before, but a new person. Your eyes were still adjusting but you were sure you were seeing Spencer behind him, and is that Rossi beside Spencer? This was too much to take in, it was all too much. Your chest began to rise and fall quicker, your eyes widened. Who you thought to be Spencer crouched down next to you reaching out a hand. You loosened your grip on the other man's bicep and reached out to take his hand. That is when you decided it had to be your Spencer, because his hands were so cold, and he had the watch you bought him for his birthday the year before you left. Tears spilled over the edge as you fully let go and reached for Spencer.

“Spence, it’s really you.” He couldn’t form any words so he just squeezed you tighter.

— — — —

You were sitting in a hospital bed looking out the window. It was early morning now, and you were sure you could hear your entire team busting down the hall. There was a quiet knock on the door, and in walked Spencer, and the team filing in behind him. You could tell JJ had cried by the redness of her nose. Penelope was wearing her brightest clothes, probably to try and lighten the mood. Emily and Rossi stood next to one another, and for a moment you thought they looked like parents. The other three you hadn’t met officially, well that was a lie. The tall dark haired man had helped you out of chains the day before.

“Surprise!” you said half heartedly as you let out a water chuckle. “This was meant to be a fun surprise, and I was supposed to meet you all under better circumstances.” you gesture to the three new BAU members.

“I’m Luke,” one smiled while stretching out his hand as you attempted your best smile. You felt like you were in some kind of tv show, the rest of the team was watching your every move, and it all felt fake.

“Tara Lewis, I’m glad to see you are recovering well physically.” And finally the man who saved you. He moved to shake your hand, but you pulled him down into an awkward hug.

“Thank you.” It was quiet, but meaningful. He rubbed his hand up and down your back once in a comforting motion.

“Of course.” And even though you had been through something so traumatic you were sure to never forget the feeling of his hands on your face, you realized how lucky you are to have your team, your family.

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year

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Rotten (S.R.)

Summary: Reader struggles to feel at home in their body following a trauma.

A/N: This was written for everyone who needs a friend on those difficult nights. I hope this fic feels like I’m holding your hand. This is also yet another entry for my CM Comfort Challenge. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Angst/Comfort Content Warning: 🚨Mental illness, PTSD, implied trauma (undefined), feelings of self-hatred, lack of self worth, unintentional self-harm (scratches), crying, implied suicidal ideation🚨 Please take care and remember you deserve to be happy, healthy, and safe. Fanfic is not worth sacrificing your mental well-being. Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

⚠️ PLEASE REFER TO CONTENT WARNINGS ABOVE ⚠️

Spencer had been worried about me lately. He didn’t say it, but I could feel it when he looked at me. Swimming between the hazel bursts of his irises was a reflection of my own shame.

Spencer had been worried about me lately. I had not been anything at all. The apathy was the worst part — the ever-consuming nothingness, the cosmic black hole pulling my soul from my flesh until there is nothing left.

Spencer had been worried about me lately.

I guess he’d been right to be.

The water beating against my skin felt far from cleansing. If anything, it just drew more attention to the terror crawling under my skin. Wrinkled fingertips felt like nothing, and they offered no assurance that this body belonged to me.

The pounding water also did nothing to mask the loud sobbing. My chest heaved, breathing in more water than air, and I thought how fitting it was for the way I felt inside.

I sought out sensation; I just needed to feel. It wasn’t my fault that softness felt foreign. There was nothing but sharp, nothing but cutting. I dug my nails into the flesh of my thigh and frantically looked for my soul beneath the skin. I searched endlessly to find the thing that so many had seen as worth taking.

That was how he found me.

Spencer pulled back the shower curtain and bathed my huddled, naked figure in the low light of the bathroom. I hadn’t heard him over the voice in my head telling me that if I just kept going, I might finally cleanse myself of the filth baked into my being. I would rid myself of the rotting smell and sensation that twisted my gut.

He must have heard me, though. He must have been listening.

I hadn’t even looked up before he dove forward into the fray. Near boiling water hit his back, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell that he’d felt it at all in his frenzy.

He grabbed my arms as softly as he could while still forcing my hands to lift. I fought back half-heartedly. My swipes turned to weak pushes until half my body went limp.

“Hey, hey! Hey, it’s okay!”

His tone betrayed his words. The trembling timbre matched my oxygen starved muscles more than any reassurance about the situation. I glanced up, but my eyes jumped away just as quickly. My heart couldn’t handle the pain that I saw. That same feeling crawling beneath now burning skin.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he repeated, more convincingly now. “Let’s turn this water off so we can talk, okay?”

I nodded, but I didn’t move.

He did, yet I could still feel the pressure of his hands around my wrists. Even that contact, done purely out of love, felt like a taking. Perhaps that’s why I raised my hands in surrender.

The sharp squeaking of the faucet broke me from my shameful stupor.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m—“ I started, but he was quick to correct me.

“Shhh, shhhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, you’re not in trouble. I’m not mad. You don’t have to apologize.”

Even that felt so terrifying. I had been waiting years for the other shoe to drop, for the green grass on the other side to wilt and burn, for everything I’d built up to come crumbling back down. I had been carrying the weight for so long that being crushed felt so inevitable.

Spencer raised his palm to my cheek with no violence. I flinched all the same.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he whispered.“Why are you in here?”

“I’m sorry I woke you up. I didn’t meant to, I didn’t want…”

I looked up only to realize that I hadn’t answered the question.

I couldn’t answer the question. I didn’t know the answer.

So, like I’d always done, I begged, “I’m sorry.”

Almost immediately, he answered, “It’s okay. I’m happy to be here.”

“No, you’re not,” I wailed. I tried to turn his words into a lie; I twisted them into the same knots as my stomach but in the end, all I felt was guilt for trying to turn him into something like me.

I choked on the tears and mucus that seemed to be pouring down my throat. The heavy sound was a reminder of how sick this body felt.

Spencer didn’t even flinch as he daintily caught my tears with his thumb. No matter how violently my body moved, his tenderness remained.

“Nothing makes me happier than knowing you don’t have to be alone.”

He’d said it so quietly I almost wondered if he’d meant for me to hear it. Even curiouser was his silence that followed. But the world was still not quiet, even when the sobbing turned to sniffles. Spencer’s slow breathing and the rhythmic, saturnine sound of water droplets dripping from the shower head taught me how to breathe again. The steamy air brought stinging lungs with it, but only enough to remind me that I was still alive.

It had never been like Spencer to wait for me to ask for help. So, I couldn’t be surprised when he saw my shivering figure and reached for a towel before I’d moved at all. And despite the fact he was also dripping, he made sure to dry me off first. He wrapped me with fluffy softness and sighed with relief when he finally got my body to cease its trembling.

He pulled me closer, holding me tightly against his chest and letting his quickened heartbeat speak for him for a moment.

“There, isn’t that better?” he asked as it returned to its normal pace.

I didn’t know how to answer, so at first, I didn’t. But eventually, when I couldn’t help but agree, I nodded against his chest.

That temporary calmness, that eye of the storm, was short lived. Because I knew the question was coming — I knew he had to ask, and this time, I couldn’t lie to him.

I knew the answer. I just knew he wouldn’t like it.

Yet, I didn’t stop him before he asked, “Can you tell me why you’re hurting yourself?”

“I just…” I tried. I failed.

“I just want…” I tried again.

That time, when my lip started trembling and my breathing got heavier, Spencer knew that I was on the brink of a break.

“What?” he begged, and I gave into the demand.

“I want them to see it,” I seethed. “I want everyone to see what I’m feeling so maybe they’ll stop pretending that nothing happened.”

Each word got harder, rougher as it clawed its way through my throat the same way I’d shredded the skin of my thigh. I withheld the burning desire to continue to eviscerate the untouched skin and let my hatred come out through the bitter words.

“Because it did happen. It happened and it’s fucking eating me alive and everyone gets to pretend like I’m fine! But I’m not fine. I can’t even—“

I choked. My body had run out of air, but I kept going between the gasps. I got louder and angrier like it would make clearer the meaning behind the words.

“I can’t even hurt myself because it doesn’t feel like this body belongs to me, Spencer! How fucking stupid is that?”

I am so scared.

“It’s not stupid,” Spencer corrected as soon as he felt he was allowed to, “You’re not stupid.”

But I couldn’t stop myself long enough to listen. I just kept going, kept trying to find a way to explain what monstrous hands were still wrapped around my heart like suffocating, thorned vines.

“It makes me feel sick and alien and like, like maybe I’m playing God by having the audacity to survive,” I said quickly so that I could stop myself. I’d tricked myself into saying what I knew he’d never wanted to hear.

“It makes me feel like maybe I should have just died by now. Maybe I should’ve just died the first time.”

Spencer’s body tensed like the words had wounded him. He clutched me tightly, too tightly for his own comfort. His breath was shaky and uneven, but he tried to stay in control. He tried not to lose himself to the pain of his own thoughts on his lover’s tongue.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he said. He couldn’t say anything else.

In that unfortunate silence, the devils in my mind continued to roam free and take claim to each labored breath.

“I’m broken, Spencer,” I sobbed anew. “There’s nothing left of me and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

I knew it couldn’t be easy for him. I knew that more often than not, he felt the same way I had. Part of what brought us together was precisely this mutual understanding of what it meant to be broken.

Spencer had just gotten a head start to coming to terms with it.

“Can you please look at me?” he whispered. It was framed as a question but sounded like a beg.

He wouldn’t make me if I didn’t want to. I wanted to, though. I craved the comfort I knew only he could provide after having been forged by the fire himself. I wanted him to magically make me better somehow.

But when I peeked up at him, I was reminded that this path would never be as easy as I’d wanted it to be. It would be suffering at every step.

I just wish my suffering hadn’t hurt him, too.

“Look at me,” he repeated, clearly seeing how badly I’d wanted to divert my attention. “You’re hurt. I’m not going to take that away from you. I’m not.”

Then, with his hands gently cradling my shoulders, Spencer trembled with the force of his words. He turned me to face him so there would be no doubt and no ability to question his conclusions.

“But, sweetheart, you’re not broken,” he cried. The words uttered through force and his tears welling with words he wanted to say but couldn’t. “Y-You’re not dirty, you’re not unlovable, or doomed to suffer, or better off dead, or whatever other bullshit they convinced you to believe.”

Spencer saw the way my nails dug into my palms. He took my hand into his and squeezed it just enough to let me know to let go. He made space for himself between my fingers and filled it immediately.

“Believe me when I say that when I look at you… I don’t see any part of them.”

With my free hand, I frantically wiped tears from my face. I pulled at the skin harder than I had to. Spencer didn’t stop me, then. He just kept going, kept torturing me with all the kindness I’d never felt before.

All the while, I’d tried to convince myself that there wasn’t another hit coming. His sugary, smitten words wouldn’t be followed by bitterness. Spencer wouldn’t resent me for this anywhere near the way I would.

Spencer noticed me slipping away and stubbornly pulled me back. With one hand firmly in mine, he used the other to hold my face steady as it sniffled. He looked at me like what he had to say was the most urgent confession in the universe.

“I love you, and they don’t get to decide how I see you. They don’t get to have that power over me,” he seethed, “I refuse.”

His anger was wielded so differently than theirs. I didn’t want to be afraid of him when his rage was so clearly aimed elsewhere, but I couldn’t help myself. No matter how little he saw them, I would still feel them. I feared I would never rid myself of that wretched feeling.

“I can still feel it,” I tried to explain while looking down at the raw skin on my thighs, “I don’t know how to let it go.”

I’d so desperately wanted him to have the answer, but when he did speak after a moment of silence, the advice that followed seemed so irrelevant.

“Come on. Let’s get you some comfortable clothes and we’re going to put something on these scratches,” he said with a smile.

I stared blankly, struggling to consider how I was meant to care about the next steps when I’d been convinced they wouldn’t come. I stood there, wrapped in a towel and my lover’s arms while I tried to find a future worth living.

“Does that sound okay?” he asked.

I realized that a future was a little too intimidating to be found in the middle of the night with nothing to wield but a towel. I decided that, for now, the baby steps to the bed would be enough.

Spencer’s eyes watered when I nodded. His smile stretched in a baffling way, like I’d given him the great gift by barely moving my head.

By accepting his kindness, I had given Spencer a purpose to make his next move; for him to guide me gently and asking for my permission in excess. With each nod, I found his worry begin to drift away. I thought that I would feel it seeping into my skin as he rubbed a cold cream against open wounds, but I didn’t.

All I felt was the comfort of warm hands working roughened skin. I felt the way he trembled when he moved me like I had been the most fragile thing on this earth.

Spencer held me, softly, without any intention of hurting. He looked at me much the same. There was something in his eyes, something palpable that reached into my chest and loosened the vines without fear of how they would cut him.

“I love taking care of you,” he said when I’d stared a few seconds too long.

I was immediately overcome with guilt. He waved it away immediately .

“You shouldn’t have to do that,” I’d said.

“I don’t have to,” he clarified, “I want to.”

“Why?”

The question hung in the air while Spencer examined the scars on my body. He looked me up and down, always lingering on the areas I hated the most. Not because they were worth less, but because he’d wanted to love them more.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, a solemn smile appeared on his face. He looked back up at me, with a shyness that I hadn’t anticipated.

“Because you deserve it,” he said.

“Spencer—“ I tried to correct him, but his expression became even more stubbornly soft.

“You don’t have to believe me. Just let me try,” he whispered, “Please. Just let me try.”

In that moment, I realized that there was something worthwhile about sticking around. There was something in his eyes from which I could derive some meaning, however fleeting and however temporary. For a brief moment, the future seemed slightly more attainable.

Although the journey would not be easy, and there would be many more nights spent with clichés and band-aids, I was willing to make the first step to finding the future I’d forgotten.

“Okay,” I said.

I had wanted Spencer to tell me how to let it go. In his curious way, he gave me the answer.

Just a little bit of hope. That was the answer.

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reidscanehand · 2 years

Text

Politics of Lonely

Inspired by this song by Isabel Pless Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUfem!Reader Category: Hurt/Comfort/Fluff TW: discussions of loneliness, cursing, self-doubt This is, honestly, a pretty self-serving write on my part, but I really need something like this and, since that likely won’t happen, I wrote it. I also really love Isabel Pless’ music, so any chance I have to introduce people to her stuff is a win in my book. Hope you like this and love you! xx

~ If success is subjective, then what's the objective of a lonely life fully lived well? - Isabel Pless ~

Spencer Reid is not a stalker. Truly. And he never had any intention of finding out Y/N’s Saturday schedule. In fact, knowing anything about it at all makes him feel incredibly weird. However, the mind works in mysterious ways and a genius mind even moreso. Meaning, that, once he accidentally happened upon a part of this regularly occurring and particularly well-kept to schedule, he just so happened to be able to slowly (not nearly slowly enough for his comfort) piece together her schedule for the rest of her day off.

Seeing her at his favorite bookstore had been a completely unexpected (though entirely pleasant) surprise. His favorite booksotre isn’t exactly a secret, and he knows he mentioned it to her when she’d asked him about a certain edition of Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, but he somehow had never anticipated actually seeing her there one Saturday morning.

But, sure enough, he turns the corner and there she is. He immediately turns back behind the shelf, out of her view, pressing his back into the endcap, his breathing suddenly far more labored than he’d expected. It’s not exactly a secret either that Y/N is a beautiful woman. And to see her, standing in a pool of light, almost comically, perfectly provided by one of the gorgeous skylights in the store, was a quite a sight to behold. The crush that’s been burdgeoning since her arrival to the BAU fills his chest fully, as though his heart is accepting what his mind already knew: he more than likes Y/N.

“Spencer?” her voice breaks his reverie. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yes,” he manages to say, “why would I not be?”

“You’re leaning against the bookshelf pale as a ghost and breathing like you’ve just run a mile,” she states, her smile perking up the ends of the sentence with disconcerting charm. “I’m just making sure you’re not running from someone or something.”

“I, um, read something that scared me,” Spencer says, lying desperately (badly).

“Oh?” Y/N asks, her eyebrow arching upward and her slight smile deepening. “What were you reading?”

“Um,” Spencer drops his eyes, thrilled to see an abandoned book right near his foot. He leans down and picks it up, not even glancing at the cover. “This one.”

Y/N glances at the book, then looks up at Spencer, her face alight with barely contained laughter, “A Guide to Pigeons of North America?”

Spencer looks down at the book in question, he’s horrified to see a (rather terrifying) picture of a pigeon on the cover. Fucking hell.

“Um...yeah,” Spencer almost sighs at his own stupidity, “I, uh, I’m scared of pigeons.”

Putting himself in such an awkward position distracted him from how overwhelmed he felt as Y/N spoke to him. Simply enough, they’d chatted for a few minutes about books, which only reconfirmed the two things he already knew to be true: 1. Y/N has excellent taste in many things, especially literature. 2. It wouldn’t take too much for him to fall in love with her.

As they walked out the door, she’d eyed him carefully.

“What is it?” he asks softly, barely resisting the urge to reach over and push her hair back over her ear.

“Would you, um,” she chews her lip, like it’s her turn to be nervous. “Would you like to, um, get a coffee with me?”

Spencer stares at her for a moment too long, a tad caught up in the blissful spring weather and how pretty she looks in her little dress and how the sun is shining just so and-and she’s floundering.

“You don’t have to, obviously, I just usually go to get another coffee after stopping here and...and I just figured you might-”

“I’d love to,” Spencer cuts her off, his own voice sounding far away in his ears.

She stares at him for a moment, a smile overtaking her features, “Wonderful.”

And it had been wonderful. Truly wonderful. Maybe the best Saturday Spencer had had....ever? They walked to the coffee shop, where Spencer easily deduced she was a regular, just as she seemed to be at the bookstore. She’d then walked him to the Farmer’s Market, picking out produce for her week and gathering bits and bobs for her dinner that evening.

As they parted ways when he walked her back to her apartment, she stared up at him suddenly, eyes still shining with remnants of smiles from the afternoon.

“Thank you for...for spending time with me today,” she almost whispers, her voice is so quiet.

“Thank you,” Spencer corrects her slightly, “for letting me tag along.”

“It’s...um, it’s just that I usually...” she trails off, her face quirking up awkwardly, “I usually do this alone. And I don’t mind being lonely, I guess, but it was...nice, more than nice, really, to have someone to do it with for once. I know my...preferences can be kind of boring, so I really appreciate you...wasting an afternoon with me.”

Without a second thought, Spencer lurches forward, tucking her into a tight hug that she settles into almost instantly.

“I had so much fun,” he assures her, before releasing her from the hug, arms still around her, staring down at her intensely. “And it certainly wasn’t a wasted afternoon.” She beams at him and hugs him again. They say their goodbyes and he walks out, dusk just settling in, a smile still on his face.

~~~

He’s hoping to have another opportunity to ostensibly...run into Y/N, to sort of maybe...extend the afternoon into an evening, somehow gathering the courage to ask her on a date.

But, cases get in the way. Case after case hits the team like a neverending treadmill, keeping them going for almost a month non-stop. They return from a rather harrowing case in Kentucky and, the team assumes, anyway, Hotch draws some sort of line with Strauss.

“We’ll work tomorrow, starting at 10,” Hotch announces as the team takes their seats on the jet, “just for paperwork purposes. But then the weekend and Monday, you’ll have off.”

Everyone practically cheers with joy, chats already brewing about plans for the long weekend. JJ texts Will, excited to spend the weekend with her boys. Emily texts some old friends, planning to meet up with them along with Derek and Penelope. Rossi laughs when they ask him to join, then sighs deeply and admits that he’ll need the Saturday off, then he’ll need to work on his newest draft on Sunday and Monday in order to keep his editor off his back. Hotch taps out, too, excited to finally spend a weekend with Jack.

“What about you, Y/N?” Derek asks. “Wanna meet us at the bar tomorrow night? I hear Emily’s friend is single.”

She giggles demurely and then rolls her eyes, “Actually, I think I’m going to see if my sister wants to drive down from Maryland to see me. We’ve been meaning to catch up for a while now.”

Spencer’s happy Y/N has plans to finally see her sister, who she’s mentioned missing quite a bit recently, but he’d sort of been hoping to see her on Saturday, if just by chance.

“What about you, Pretty Boy?” Derek asks, turning the attention to Spencer. He feels his face turn beet red.

“Um...I, uh...” he flounders for a moment then clears his throat, “I’ve got some books to read.”

The rest of the team seems happy with that answer, but Spencer can feel Y/N’s eyes on him, a gaze he avoids as the plane takes off back home.

~~~

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out with us tonight, Spence?” Emily asks over the phone. It’s around 10am on Saturday morning and Spencer’s pouring a second cup of coffee - a necessity as this is the second call he’s received about this evening’s festivities.

“Why are you guys so annoyed with the idea that bars really aren’t my thing? Besides, it’s not like I’m the only one not coming. JJ’s with Will and Henry, Hotch is with Jack, Rossi’s still working, for God’s sake, Y/N’s with her sister-”

“Y/N’s sister cancelled on her,” Emily corrects him offhandedly. “I was sort of hoping to convince her to come, too, but-”

“When did that happen?” Spencer demands abruptly. There’s a pause as Emily’s clearly taken aback by his reaction.

“Yesterday afternoon after you left,” Emily explains. “She’s pretty down about it, actually, which is why-”

“I have to go, Emily,” Spencer interrupts her. “Thanks for the invite, but I’ll be busy.”

“Busy?” Emily asks incredulously, even as Spencer hangs up. “Busy with what?”

~~~

Spencer’s not exactly sure what his plan is here, in fact, he most decidedly doesn’t really have one. But he knows...he knows he should do something. On his way to Y/N’s apartment, he passes the Farmer’s Market, his height and the open air facility making it possible for him to look around, not seeing her there and moving on. He passes the coffee shop, walking in and almost blindly ordering his favorite, tacking hers onto his order without thinking twice. He looks around, hoping she’ll just happen to be there, but determinedly continuing towards her apartment complex when he still doesn’t see her. It’s a last ditch effort at the bookstore, but Ron, the owner - seemingly fully aware of the situation - tells Spencer without any prompting that Y/N hasn’t been in today.

So now he’s standing in front of her door, the slightly lukewarm coffees in his hands making him feel even more awkward. He knocks quietly, considering doing it again when the door suddenly opens. He almost can’t breathe when he sees her. The usual glow around her is dimmed slightly, her adorable matching pajamas still on despite noon swiftly approaching. She looks tired and sad somehow and it tugs at his heartstrings.

“Spencer?” Y/N asks, looking up at him in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

“I, um,” he chastises himself inwardly for being so unprepared. “I know how much you were looking forward to seeing your sister and I’m sorry she cancelled on you. And I know it might be...be stupid, but I thought that maybe...maybe you’d want to spend another Saturday with me? And then maybe...maybe we could just spend more time together generally? Because I...the most fun I’ve had in ages was the Saturday I spent with you and I...” he trails off, staring at her, cursing himself for his own discomfort.

“Spencer, I appreciate it, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to hang out with me just because I’m...lonely,” Y/N says sadly. “I don’t want to drag you along just because-”

But he cuts her off then, the determination of earlier in the day settling over him again as he places the coffees on the ground next to her door, stepping forward and reaching for her hands, which she - thankfully - allows him to take easily.

“I know,” he whispers, “I know what it is to be lonely. And I wanted you to know that...if you want, you don’t have to be...lonely, that is. Because I’d...I’d like to...love to, really, be with you. Spending time with you isn’t anything but a joy. You wouldn’t be dragging me, if anything I’ll damn near skip along beside you.”

Her eyes have widened, mouth parting slightly, but that makes her laugh and smile as she meets his eyes again.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, smiling down at her. “Not just today, but...for however long you’ll have me, actually.” And with that he presses a kiss to knuckles of her hands, bringing them to his chest.

Y/N smiles up at him and he can tell it’s the first time she’s smiled in a minute. She meets his eyes again, the twinkle from that Saturday over a month ago returning as she glances towards his lips.

“Would you like to go to the bookstore with me?” Y/N asks sweetly, her eyes flicking back to his mischievously.

“Yes,” he whispers, stepping closer, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

Her smile deepens, “And then maybe the coffee shop? I think the ones you brought might be cold.”

“Yes,” he chuckles softly, tugging her impossibly closer and dropping a kiss to her shoulder. Y/N shudders slightly, but smiles into his chest, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“And then the Farmer’s Market?” she suggests shyly. “I could make us d-dinner, if you’d like to stay.”

“I’d love to,” he replies almost huskily, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“We could eat outside,” she whispers teasingly, starting to laugh.

“We could,” he answers, pulling away slightly to look down at her properly, “if a picnic’s not too funny for you.”

“It’s not that,” she shakes her head. “It’s just that we’ll have to be careful.”

“Careful?” Spencer asks, pushing the errant lock of hair behind her ear, like the universe giving him a second chance to do so.

“Yeah,” she nods, clearly trying not to burst into laughter, “you know, to avoid the pigeons.”

Spencer rolls his eyes and tugs her back into his chest, finally pressing a kiss to her lips.

~ “I think you’re the one.” - Isabel Pless ~

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pathologicalreid · 6 months

Text

buried alive | S.R.

in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angsty

content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.

part two part three

You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”

“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.

It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.

“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.

Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”

You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”

Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.

“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.

“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.

There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.

“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.

You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”

Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.

The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”

The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.

Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.

Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.

“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.

You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.

They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.

You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.

Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.

“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.

Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”

Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”

“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.

Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”

“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.

After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.

Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”

It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.

The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.

Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.

Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.

Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.

Your team would find you. They had to find you.

They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.

Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”

“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.

He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.

Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”

But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.

They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”

Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.

You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.

It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.

The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.

“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”

Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”

“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.

What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.

Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.

Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.

He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.

“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.

What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.

Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.

It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.

Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.

The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.

“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”

Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.

Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”

He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.

Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”

To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.

You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.

According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.

Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”

A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”

He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.

You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.

“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”

Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?

You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”

His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.

Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.

He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.

Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.

“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.

Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”

part two

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #penelope garcia #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you #h writes (hypothetically)

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strawbeerossi · 6 months

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Taking Calls

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever a man who makes you feel uncomfortable asks for your number, you give him your boyfriend’s number instead. Whenever he texts him all day and finally decides to call, Spencer plans on taking care of it.

Content/Warnings: Minor case details (nothing explicit), creep officer, loving boyfriend Spencer, intimidation mention, kissing, unprotected sex, Spencer answers a phone call in the middle of sex (I didn’t know how to word that so it works lmao.)

Word Count: 1.2K

Anon Request: I had a spicy idea where a creepy cop tries to get readers number for “work purposes” and instead she gives him Spencer’s number and the cop happens to call Spencer and reader while he’s in the middle of fucking reader or the reader is in the middle of giving him a blowjob and the cop sort of hears her in the background? I just thought you’d be the perfect person to write this 😍

Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request

🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie @lov1ngreid @sobbingcryingattsizzles @doriantomybasil @thegluesong @rosiehale23

Spencer had his number given out before due to a prank on Derek’s end that had so many people blowing up his phone. It was something he vowed that he would get the man back for and specifically state that it could never happen again.

The team was on a case in Manhattan, a standard killer who had an awakened blood lust was terrorizing the city. After six victims, the NYPD felt it was best to invite the BAU onto the case, which seemed to be too little too late due to the man going dormant.

Every lead was buried so deep that you’d need an excavator to dig them up, still the team persisted. You were currently on day three, staying back at the police precinct along with Dave to interview the families of the deceased, hoping to dig up any leads.

You had currently stepped out for a brief break, standing by the coffee machine as you were getting one of the disposable cups, filling it to the brim with a healthy mixture of coffee and sugar. “Hey, Y/L/N, correct?” A voice came from behind you, making you turn to look over the person addressing you. Officer Laslow. “Hi, yes. That’s me. How can I help you?” You asked, eyebrows raising.

You didn’t like to judge people, however you had a very uneasy feeling around him. The way he was looking at you was a good enough reason to be uncomfortable, the man seeming to mentally undress you as he stared into your soul. “I was just wondering if your team had any leads? I mean, I’m sure the families know something,” He spoke, making you sigh as your shoulders slumped. “Nothing, unfortunately.” You spoke while sipping from the coffee cup in your hands.

“Nothing? What a shame. I was actually wondering if you and I could exchange numbers? No funny business, I’m just wanting to make sure we can stay in communication throughout this case. You know, share intel.”

He could’ve just asked Aaron for updates. However, in the moment of being uncomfortable and not knowing what to say, you were clearing your throat. “Well. Okay.. Just for intel though.” You murmured, slowly taking the device from his hands to put in Spencer’s number instead of your own. You’d explain things to your boyfriend later. Until then, you were doing the next best option. Spencer could handle this. You were sure of it.

As another day passed and there was no leads, the team was retreating to the hotel for the night to try and get some rest, even if they were overly focused on trying to catch the murderer running around freely. “Honey, I have a question.” Spencer began as he was walking from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a white t-shirt clinging to his lanky frame. “I’ve just had a lot of texts today. The person is addressing you by name. Wanna talk about who you gave my number to?” He asked softly. He knew it had to be a big deal if you wouldn’t give someone your number.

“Some creep on the NYPD team. You should’ve seen the way he looked at me, Spencer. It made me so uncomfortable.” You shivered while looking over at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry that I gave him your number. I didn’t know what else to do.” The feeling of his hand rubbing your shoulder caused your body to relax, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“I’m not upset with you by any means. I just wanted to ask. He didn’t try and touch you or force himself on you, right?” He asked, slowly letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Nothing like that. He was just twice my size and intimidating. I mean, he could’ve hurt me if I rejected him.” In this job, Spencer saw cases like that far too much, so he believed it.

“Come here.” He spoke while slowly pressing a few kisses against your cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll speak with Hotch about it tomorrow. It’ll get taken care of.” He smiled, the back of his knuckle gently caressing your cheek. “How did I get so lucky to be with you?” You asked softly, offering a smile as you leaned against his touch. “I’m the lucky one.” He mused, now moving to press a sweet kiss against your lips.

However, the kiss was only cut short whenever he could hear the ringtone on his phone designated for texts. “This guy is a real piece of work.” Your boyfriend muttered against your lips, opting to ignore the incessant sounds coming from his phone as he carried on your shared kiss. As the kids deepened, his hands were working to push your shirt over your head before his hands were working on your work pants. You hadn’t changed just yet, so he felt like he was definitely helping you out in the grand scheme of things.

Once you were undressed to his liking, it wasn’t long until your own hands were pushing at his clothes to bring him to the same level of unclothed as you were. “Lay down.” Spencer breathed as he broke the kiss, watching you push yourself back in bed before he was crawling on top of you to attach your lips once more. You were both eager, a lot of stress from this case as well as your own yearning for pleasure making things go just a little faster than usual. He used one hand to bring one of your legs around his waist, which prompted you to mirror your actions with your other leg.

Pushing your panties to the side, your boyfriend wasted no time pushing his cock inside of your eager cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as the hand propping him up was gripping the sheets. “Fuck. I love you.” He whispered, pressing a few sweet kisses to your lips. For once today, you felt like you could forget the officer from earlier, to enjoy the moment. Until Spencer was getting a call. “Are you kidding?” He huffed out of frustration, hips still thrusting at a slow pace as he was reaching over to take his cellphone from the bedside table.

“W-we should stop.” You breathed, knowing he had to take the call judging by the look on his face. “No. No, just lay there and take it, pretty girl. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” He murmured. Before you could object, he was swiping to answer the call. “I don’t appreciate being ignored.” The male on the other end of the phone huffed. Just hearing his slimy voice had Spencer cringing. Using his shoulder to hold the phone up to his ear, he let out a soft breath. His hips thrusted into you at a faster speed, your lip tucked between your teeth as you really did try to keep quiet.

“She’s busy but I can take a message.” Spencer answered as if he wasn’t jackhammering you into the mattress right now, whines and moans slipping from your lips as you couldn’t hold them back anymore. “Who is this?” The officer asked, now his annoyance being clear as day. “Spencer!” You gasped out, answering his question without even being aware of it.

“You heard her. Tell the nice man on the phone who has the pleasure of fucking you.” Spencer grunted, making you red in the face as you gripped his upper arms. “You!”

“My name, baby. Tell him who gets to take you home every night.”

“Spencer!” You panted, head tossed back as he was pounding into your sweet spot.

“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. I hope you get the hint.” He murmured.

#spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid smut #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

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cerisereids · 28 days

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𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹- 𝘀.𝗿.

pairing- dad!spencer reid x mom!reader

summary- spencer reid is the best girl dad on the planet

warnings- hurt/comfort and fluff, post s15!spencer- he is no longer with the bau but there are references to his time there, lowkey some angst bc apparently i can’t write anything for spencer without him being sad, spencer’s daddy issues, a lil makin out/grinding, brief discussion of sex/baby making

a/n- divider from @real-afterglow! happy easter to everyone who celebrates! here’s a cute little thing about girl dad!spencer :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

spencer reid’s bottom lip is tucked between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed together. usually, this look of concentration was reserved for intense cases, ones spent pouring over complex documents into late hours of the night. tonight, however, he’s traded serial killers for pastel eggs, taunting him from the kitchen table. spencer’s engaging in an intense staring contest with the plastic eggs as he pores over the array of candy and decorations littering the rest of the table.

his head snaps up as he hears your feet pattering down the steps, knowing you’re about to catch him in the midst of a battle between him and your daughter’s easter goodies. you take the eggs’ place as the object of his visual affection when you appear in the kitchen, staring back at him in silence. his puppy dog eyes plead into yours. he knows you know what he’s trying to say, i’m trying, i want this to be perfect. he also knows you won’t let him destroy himself to make you and your baby girl happy, even when he wants to.

“she’s only two, you know. she’s not going to care if the right piece of candy is in the right egg. she’s just happy to be with us,” you speak to his anxieties like you can read his mind.

it’s one of the many things he loves about you, his sweet wife. the way you just know what his brain is fighting against, and can speak to it. your sweet words don’t appease his guilt this time, though, and you both know it. he plows ten fingers through his mop of hair before sliding his glasses onto his forehead.

“i know,” he breathes, and you both know he has more to say.

“but it’s not enough,” you finish for him.

“it’s not enough,” he repeats, defeated.

“well, then let me help you,” you declare, pulling a chair up next to him.

“no, no,” he insists, shaking his head, “you just put her to bed. you must be exhausted, rest.”

“we’re both exhausted, spence. just because i was the one to put her to bed tonight doesn’t mean i’m the only one doing the parenting around here,” he knows you’re trying to reassure him, but he flinches anyway. his ability to be a father has been a sore subject since you first became pregnant almost three years ago.

“plus, we both know i won’t be able to rest while you’re over here, very clearly in need of a helping hand,” you glare at him, checkmate. he relents at that, and allows you to wrap yourself into him. your arms around his bicep, your head on his shoulder, his chin atop your temple. slowly, he allows vulnerability to pierce through the tension between you two.

“what do we got here, handsome?” you croon, and he’s never been so certain that he doesn’t deserve you, that you’re too good for him. there’s not much he can do about that now but kiss you on the forehead and hope his lips convey a decade of love and devotion in one small kiss.

“i just want it to be perfect,” he croaks, eyes glossing over. “i wasn’t here last time. i don’t think i’ll ever not feel guilty about it.”

“i understand, spence. i’d feel bad, too, but that doesn’t mean you’re not there for her, that you don’t love her. because you do. and you show her, and me, everyday, don’t forget that,” you finish your mini speech with a firm kiss on the lips.

a year ago from this very moment, he was pulled away on a case. the call came at 11 pm, the night before your daughter’s first easter. to say he was devastated would be an understatement. he put on a brave face that morning over facetime, watching the chubby hands of one little eloise reid tear through the plastic easter grass hiding the candy in her basket.

he was brave until the time came to hit the hang up button. with the blankness that filled his screen and his hotel room, he broke. he was of no use on the case, and the team knew it, too. he left the bau shortly after that. he didn’t want to feel that way ever again, and he knew if he stayed there, he would. that time it was only one holiday, sure, but what about when she ends up having a dance recital? or graduates? he couldn’t risk it, he knew his family took the biggest priority.

between that and his own father’s absence in his childhood, he was determined to make this easter absolutely perfect for your daughter, no matter if he fell dead asleep on your kitchen table trying.

the staticky rustling of plastic basket grass tears spencer away from his loud, busy brain, and his eyes soften as they fixate on you. helping him. you’re nestling a little stuffed bunny atop the plastic frills of the basket and spencer watches in awe, wondering why he didn’t think to do that first.

he knows the answer. it’s because it’s you. you’re the best mom, and he loves catching those little moments where you prove that to him. it doesn’t take much, like the way you’re slipping $1 bills into each plastic egg, while also making sure you put a piece of candy there as well. it’s a small gesture, maybe, one that doesn’t take much deep thinking, but he knows that it comes from the deepest love your great beautiful heart can muster.

and of course he loves your daughter too, so, so much, but he struggles to show it the way you do. his lack of a paternal presence in his childhood sometimes leaves him feeling empty handed in his journey of fatherhood. you never let him feel this way for long, though. again, just like now, with the way you immediately jumped in to help him. even after he said no, even if you’re absolutely exhausted. you do it for him, because it’s him. because you love him. he still can’t believe it some days.

he smiles, so full of love for his two girls and lets his gaze linger as you run into the living room. you return yielding the carrots and cookies the three of you left for the easter bunny earlier.

“up for a little midnight snack?” you tease, waving the carrots in one hand and the cookies in another before you sit.

“not my preferred treat but i’m not going to say no to one of your sugar cookies,” he jokes, pulling you to the edge of your chair by the small of your back.

he places a kiss on your lips. an intense one, one that conveys every thought blundering through his mind the 10 minutes you’ve been downstairs. how much he loves you, specifically.

he feels you chuckle against him and can’t help but deepen the kiss, pulling you ever closer so his leg comes between yours, your core pressing warmly against his knee. he hears you whimper, a sound he’ll cherish forever, before you rub against him gently and pull away.

“not tonight,” you peer at him over your glasses, a faux concern dancing through your gaze, “if we do you’ll end up giving me another baby. we both know we’re not ready for that yet.”

it’s his turn now to hide his face in the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw. you dedicate the rest of your night to making this holiday special for your little girl.

after nibbling on the carrots and cookies, you place them back on the plate with a thank you note, signed E.B. he raises a brow as he sees you pad over to your cupboard, pulling out your bin of flour. your cheeky smile invokes butterflies, and he’s breathless. it’s late, you’re in sweats, your hair is a mess, and you’re currently half-bent, sifting flour over a stencil of a bunny foot, and he’s never been more in love with you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

spender hears rustling and sweet talk echoing down your spiral staircase. baby eloise’s sweet morning rasp, her high pitched baby voice asking mama if the easter bunny came. he hears you coo at her, telling her she has to wait and see, followed by kissing noises and baby giggles. his heart grows three sizes.

when he sees you appear in the stairway through the lens of his phone, he quickly tears his gaze away from the screen to see the real thing. his girls, eyes tired and hair messy, float down the steps, light from the back window illuminating them, like his own personal angels.

“hi girls!” he lilts, gentle as to not startle his baby girl.

her big brown eyes that she got from dad bore into his, and he can feel himself welling up at her sweetness. sap.

“hi sweet eloise,” he bends down for a kiss from both his angels as you set her at the bottom of the steps, “i think someone special came,” he coos, stealing some more kisses from the baby’s soft chubby cheeks.

she nestles into spencer’s chest, a tiny little thumb settled gently on her lips, and his heart bleeds. he loves her so much.

“i think the easter bunny came!” he croons, hugging her tight and close, “do you wanna see what he got you?” he feels her head nod against him and he hands you his phone. the three of you walk into the living room and spencer sets her down, letting her choose where to go first.

she runs right to the fireplace, where the eaten treats and thank you note lay, her eyes wide.

“wow!” he hears you gasp, and he pulls you to him so you can walk to her together, “i think he ate our treats!”

eloise turns to you two and giggles, clapping her chubby little hands. you two can’t help but pull her in, attacking her with kisses before letting her go on to her other surprises.

she squeals at the bunny feet, repeating, “bunny! bunny!” she gets presents too, of course, spoiled little thing that she is.

you’re better than spencer at shopping for the girly things she loves, so he was an observer shopping for the special things she’s getting this morning.

you nailed it, too. you got her pink, purple, and blue ruffle swimsuits for the summer, and he’s already dying inside imagining how cute it will be. she immediately opens the tinted lip balm with a unicorn on it, as well as the princess jewelry kit, complete with fake earrings and a necklace with aurora, her favorite princess, on the pendant.

she demolishes the easter egg hunt you set up for her in the backyard, just like her dad always did. she squeals when she opens each one, even though all the $1 bills don’t mean anything to her, and will end up being spent by you two anyway. you agreed to spend the total $10 on her, regardless. it’s about having something that’s her own, forming an identity at an early age.

later in the morning, when you appear in the living room, ready for easter brunch with your family, he falls in love all over again. his girls, now a complete contrast to his view earlier this morning, clad in your easter best, look so beautiful, he’s now thoroughly convinced you’re angels.

you’re in a pink ruffled maxi dress, hair and makeup done to the nines. your baby girl got her hair styled by mom, one of her favorite pastimes. her curly hair lay beautifully behind the world’s cutest bangs, and she’s cute as pie with her yellow flowered dress.

he saunters over to you, piercing you with a gaze that said ‘i’m ready for baby #2 now’ before kissing you, then eloise.

“you are the two most beautiful girls in the entire world,” he croons, hugging you both close to him in his big arms.

“i love you,” you whisper up to him, kissing his jawline sweetly, “what do you say to daddy, sweet girl?” you prompt, rubbing her baby belly.

“thank you daddy, i love you!” she chirps, planting a big kiss on his cheek.

he never thought his life could be filled with this much joy.

#oh i want his kids BAD #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid smut

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thewulf · 24 days

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Bulletproof Bonds || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Maybe a husband!Aaron x Long Time BAU!wife and how there’s a new member to the BAU and she keeps trying to flirt with Aaron but he keeps turning her down🥲 but the new member doesn’t know that Aaron and reader are married, and new member just thinks of reader as competition to get with Aaron, eventually leading to reader getting really mad cause new member does something really stupid on a case that leads to reader almost getting seriously injured??... Read Rest Here

A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for the request @viscade !

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 3.1k

TW: Yelling, gunshot (non wounded)

In the bustling chaos of the BAU bullpen, Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sifted through the multitude of case files scattered before him. A usual sight for the unit chief. The harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows across his features, accentuating the lines of exhaustion etched into his face by years of chasing monsters in the dark.

You sat by his side, a silent sentinel amidst the whirlwind of activity. Your own workspace dedicated beside him cluttered with documents and crime scene photos. The faint aroma of stale coffee hung in the air as you both delved into the intricate web of clues left behind by the latest serial killer to plague the streets. It was always so easy with him, your husband. The way the two of you were able to bounce ideas off each other was like none seen before.

The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on everyone present as they grappled with the enormity of the task at hand. Each unsolved case seemed to loom over them like a specter, a constant reminder of the lives lost and the justice yet to be served. Amidst all the usual chaos, Agent Sarah Miller made her presence known. Her arrival heralded by the soft click of her heels against the linoleum floor. She moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, her youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the world-weary countenances of her colleagues. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.

Sarah's eyes lingered on Aaron as she sauntered past his open aired desk, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She was young, ambitious, and hungry for success. Her gaze fixed on the formidable figure of the BAU's leader like a moth drawn to a flame.

Despite Aaron's cold indifference, she persisted in her attempts at flirtation, undeterred by his lack of response. Her tactics were shamelessly transparent, her words dripping with false sweetness as she sought to capture his attention. Agent Sarah Miller yet again walked past Aaron's desk, her gaze lingering on him for a moment too long before she turned her attention to you. There was a subtle flicker of annoyance in her eyes as she took in your presence, her lips curling into a barely concealed sneer.

"Hey, Hotch," she purred, leaning against the edge of his desk with practiced ease. "You must be tired of staring at all those files. Why don't you take a break and grab a coffee with me?" Her eyes kept looking back to you in brief flashes to gauge your reaction. You decided early on after her brazen attempts that you would give her none. A layer of disgust masked on top of the doe eyes she was attempting to give your husband was meant for you. She was very forward, you had to give her that one.

Aaron's response was polite but firm, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I'm sorry, Agent Miller, but I have work to do," he replied, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him.

Undeterred, Sarah flashed him a flirtatious smile, her gaze lingering on him expectantly. "Maybe some other time, then," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness before she finally strolled away.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her blatant display of interest, the subtle scoff escaping your lips as you returned your focus to the files sprawled across your desk. "Some profiler she is," you muttered under your breath, the sarcasm dripping from your words like venom. It was a small act of defiance, a way to vent the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface as you watched Sarah's failed attempts at seduction.

Your comment earned a small smirk from Aaron, his lips quirking up in amusement as he glanced up from his work. His eyes met yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you, a shared understanding of the absurdity of the situation. In that fleeting moment, you found solace in the unspoken reassurance that he was not blind to Sarah's antics, nor was he unaffected by them.

As the tension in the room continued to get heavier, you exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, the unspoken bond between you speaking volumes. It was a silent reminder of the unbreakable connection that bound you together, a tether grounding you amidst the disarray swirling around you. In that moment, you drew strength from the knowledge that no amount of flirtation from the new agent could ever hope to rival the deep-seated love and loyalty that defined your marriage.

But beneath the surface, resentment simmered, fueled by the blatant disrespect for the boundaries of your marriage. Each lingering glance, each flirtatious comment served as a reminder of the fragile line Sarah was treading, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the calm facade. Yet, as frustrating as her antics were, you knew that the true test of your marriage lay not in her misguided advances but in the unwavering trust and devotion you shared with Aaron. A bond that would withstand any challenge thrown your way.

You had to give the girl credit. She certainly didn’t stop. It was not even an hour later that the girl came crawling right back to him. In the dimly lit bullpen of the BAU, the seasoned agents huddled together, their eyes darting furtively around the room as they exchanged knowing glances. Reid, Garcia, Morgan, and Prentiss stood in a tight circle. Their voices hushed as they leaned in conspiratorially.

"So, who's going to crack first?" Garcia whispered, her eyes sparkling mischievously behind her glasses.

Prentiss smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "My money's on Y/N. She's got that poker face down pat."

Reid nodded in agreement, adjusting his glasses. "And she's got a wicked sense of humor. I don't think she's sweating it."

Just then, Morgan, ever the observant one, interjected with a grin. "You know what, I'm with both of you on this one. Y/N's handling this like a pro. She's probably just waiting for the perfect moment to drop a witty comeback."

The others turned to look at you, noticing your bemused expression as you observed the scene unfolding with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. The new agent, eager to impress, leaned in a little too close to Hotch, her voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. "So, Hotch, any plans for dinner tonight?"

Hotch glanced up from his paperwork, his expression remaining impassive. "Just finishing up some reports, Agent. Nothing planned."

Undeterred, the new agent persisted, fluttering her eyelashes coyly. "Well, if you change your mind, I know this great Italian place down the street."

Hotch merely nodded, returning his attention to the file in front of him. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Agent."

Behind his back, the BAU members couldn't contain their laughter, stifling their giggles as they watched the new agent's attempts fall flat. It was clear that Hotch was immune to her charms, his focus unwavering even in the face of relentless flirting.

As Sarah retreated, finally somewhat defeated, the BAU members exchanged triumphant looks, their silent bet settled. Hotch may have been unflappable in the field, but when it came to dodging unwanted advances, he was truly a master of his craft. And you, well, you were just enjoying the show, your amused smile barely masking your annoyance as you watched the scene unfold.

The breaking point came during a particularly intense case, where the unsub's erratic behavior had everyone on edge. You felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors of an abandoned warehouse, every nerve on high alert.

In the heat of the pursuit, Sarah's impulsive decision shattered the fragile equilibrium you had struggled to maintain with your team. Ignoring protocol and disregarding the safety of the team, she charged ahead recklessly, her actions sending shockwaves rippling through your ranks. Bullets flew past you like angry hornets, the deafening roar of gunfire echoing off the walls as chaos descended upon you.

It happened in the blink of an eye, a split-second decision with far-reaching consequences. A bullet sliced through the air like a deadly whisper, its trajectory aimed straight for your chest. But thanks to the protective barrier of your bulletproof vest, the impact was nothing more than a forceful shove, the fabric absorbing the blow with a sickening thud. The impact knocked the wind out of you, pain searing through your body as you stumbled backward, clutching your chest.

As the adrenaline faded and the reality of what could have been sunk in, fury ignited like a wildfire within you. You rounded on Sarah, your voice a crescendo of anger as you unleashed the pent-up frustration that had been building for weeks. Each word was a dagger aimed straight at her heart. Your tone laced with a venomous ferocity that mirrored the intensity of the emotions raging within you.

Coughing up blood, your vision blurred as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, drowning out the pain as you staggered to your feet. With a primal roar, you lunged at Sarah, grabbing her by the collar with a strength born of desperation.

"What the fuck was that?" you yelled, louder than you ever had before. And certainly not in front of the team. Your voice raw with fury. Each word was a thunderclap, reverberating through the warehouse like a warning shot. "You could have killed me! Or them! Do you even realize what you've done?"

But Sarah's response was a defiant sneer, her gaze unwavering in the face of your righteous indignation. "I did what needed to be done," she spat, her voice laced with arrogance. "I'm not afraid to take risks to get the job done."

The words were like a slap to the face, a cruel reminder of the recklessness that had nearly cost you everything. With all your rage, you shoved her away, your hands trembling with anger as you struggled to contain the tempest raging within you.

"You're a liability," you growled, your voice a low, dangerous whisper. "And if you ever put my life, their lives,” You pointed to Spencer and Emily behind you, “in danger again, I won't hesitate to take you down myself."

As you stood there, trembling with fury and pain, the rest of the team made their way over. You still hasn’t seen Aaron yet but the rest of them looked on in shock and disbelief. Derek surged forward, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pulled you back from the confrontation. "Easy there Y/N," he said, his voice low and soothing as he tried to calm the storm raging within you. "Cool off."

Emily and JJ exchanged worried glances. Finally, Aaron found you after too many moments of losing it in front of everyone. His eyes widened in alarm as he took in the sight of blood staining your lips, his heart clenching with fear at the sight. "What happened?" he demanded. His usually calm voice was laced with urgency as he reached out to gently touch your arm. His fingers trembled against your skin, his touch a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of the moment.

Still reeling from the confrontation and the shock of narrowly escaping serious injury, Spencer stepped forward, his voice calm but tinged with urgency. "Aaron, Sarah made a nearly fatal mistake," he said, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "Her impulsive actions endangered everyone on the team, especially Y/N." You were thankful he was willing to step in because you weren’t quite sure if you had the right words.

Aaron's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury as he turned his gaze on Sarah. The air around him crackled with palpable anger, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Is this true?" he demanded, his voice cold and steely as he pinned her with a hard stare.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny, her bravado faltering in the face of his unwavering gaze. "I...I was just trying to apprehend the unsub," she stammered, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

But Aaron's patience had worn thin, his temper flaring like a raging inferno. "You made a reckless decision that put the entire team at risk," he snapped, his voice echoing off the walls of the warehouse. "Until you can prove that you're capable of following protocol and putting the safety of your teammates above all else, you will not be back in the field."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of her actions. Sarah's expression fell, her defiance crumbling under the weight of his judgment. It was a harsh lesson, but one that she would need to learn if she ever hoped to earn back the trust of her colleagues and prove herself worthy of wearing the badge.

As Aaron turned away, his attention returning to you with a renewed sense of protectiveness, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support of your team leader and husband. But as you tried to catch your breath, a sudden coughing fit wracked your body, drawing Aaron's attention back to you. Concern flashed across his features, his eyes narrowing with worry as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to steady you.

"Hey sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear as he brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Let's get you checked out, alright?"

You attempted to speak, but the coughing fit continued, leaving you gasping for air. So, you shook your head in protest. You were fine and you knew it, but the damn bullet hit you right in the lung leaving you gasping for air. Aaron's worry deepened, his brow furrowing with concern as he knelt down beside you, his hands hovering anxiously over your shoulders.

"Honey, just breathe," he urged, his voice filled with tenderness as he placed a comforting hand on your back. "We'll get you to the hospital, and they'll take care of you. I promise." It wasn’t usual that he dropped those sweet terms of endearment to you in front of the team, but he couldn’t really care. Not when he could’ve lost you.

Despite your protests, Aaron's determination remained steadfast. With gentle insistence, he scooped you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest with a strength born of love and concern. "You're going to the hospital," he declared, his voice unwavering as he carried you towards his SUV. “I’m not taking no for an answer sweetheart."

As Aaron settled into the driver's seat beside you, his eyes flickered with concern as he stole glances, his hand reaching out to brush against yours in a silent gesture of reassurance. But despite his unwavering determination to get you to the hospital, you couldn't help but feel a stubborn sense of resistance bubbling within you.

"I'm fine, Aaron," you insisted, your tone tinged with frustration as you crossed your arms over your chest. "This is incredibly dramatic. You’ve been hit in your gear too."

Aaron's expression softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Maybe I am," he admitted with a chuckle. "I also know what it feels like honey. I’d rather be safe than sorry."

You shot him a playful glare, unable to suppress the teasing smile that danced on your lips. He cared for you, truly. Every inch of himself loved you more deeply than even you could have fathomed. You also knew that love bore stubbornness and there was no talking him out of what he knew he had to do. You were just along for the ride now. "You just can't resist playing the hero, can you?" You spoke up after a moment of silence between the two of you.

Aaron chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced over at you. "Guilty as charged," he replied. "Always remind me never to get on your bad side," Aaron quipped, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips as he attempted to alleviate the tension that hung heavy in the air.

You managed a weak laugh trying your hardest to hide the pain radiating from your chest. However, so grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were about to take matters into your own hands back there," he teased gently, his voice laced with affection.

The image of you, ready to throw down with the new agent, brought a genuine laugh bubbling up from deep within you this time. "Well, she did have it coming," you admitted with a mischievous grin. "But I guess I'll let you handle the heroics this time."

As the laughter subsided, Aaron's expression turned more serious, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry things got so heated," he said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I should have stepped in sooner. I thought she was harmless. Dealt with her type so many times before." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before finding your hand and lacing his fingers within yours.

You squeezed his hand, a warm smile spreading across your face. "It’s not your fault you’re such a silver fox," Tossing him a wink you couldn’t help but to tease him right on back. It’s how you knew everything was going to be just fine. The two of you had dealt with so much worse and come out even stronger, this would be nothing but a minor blip on your journey together.

Aaron laughed at your playful comment, a warmth spreading in his chest at your familiar banter. "Ah, so you're saying my charm is both a blessing and a curse," he retorted with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You nodded, a fond smile playing on your lips. "Something like that," you agreed, feeling a surge of gratitude for the ease with which you could navigate even the toughest moments with Aaron by your side.

As the car glided through the streets towards the hospital, a comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the engine. Despite the events that had unfolded, you found solace in the quiet intimacy of the moment, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. With each passing mile, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of reassurance that only Aaron could provide. His unwavering love and support was everything you needed. He guided you through the darkness, illuminating the path forward with hope and determination.

As you arrived at the hospital and Aaron helped you out of the car, you knew that this was just another chapter in your life together. You couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the man beside you, your literal partner in crime, your rock, your everything. Together, you were truly unstoppable.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

Request Taglist: @michasia24 @alicexvrose @samsgoddess @octoavia @agustdpeach @nescavaneck @casualpruneranchfire @sebastiansstanswhore @kaysolai @samron15 @lillianacristina @ryswritingrecord @bitterest-taste

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latenightreadingpdf · 25 days

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Familiar Faces - Spencer Reid

Summary: Doctor Spencer Reid reunites with childhood friend Y/N, only to discover she's being stalked. As the BAU investigates, old feelings resurface between them.

The bright fluorescent lights of the FBI building cast a glow over the corridor. Doctor Spencer Reid adjusted his satchel on his shoulder, his mind racing with the details of the latest case file that had just landed on his desk. He was lost in thought when he bumped into someone, nearly dropping the stack of papers he was holding.

"I'm so sorry," a familiar voice said.

Spencer looked up, his eyes widening in disbelief. Standing in front of him was Y/N, his childhood friend from high school. Memories flooded back as he took in her familiar face, though older and more mature than he remembered.

"Y/N?" Spencer stammered, his voice laced with shock.

"Is that really you?" he continued, his eyes scanning her face for confirmation.

She smiled, her eyes shining with recognition and surprise. "Wow, Spencer Reid. I never thought I'd see you here in Quantico."

"It's been years," Spencer replied, a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

Before he could say anything more, Y/N stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. Spencer hesitated for a moment, his touch aversion making him uncomfortable, but he found himself wrapping his arms around her in return.

The team, who had been watching the interaction from a distance, exchanged confused glances. They had no idea that Spencer and Y/N knew each other.

"Is everything okay here?" Hotch, the BAU's unit chief, asked, stepping forward with a stern expression.

"Yeah, we're just... catching up," Spencer explained, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

As they pulled apart, Y/N's smile faded, her expression turning serious. "Spencer, someone's been following me. I think I'm being stalked."

Spencer's eyes widened in concern. "We'll handle it," he assured her, his voice firm.

The team gathered in the briefing room, reviewing the details of Y/N's case. The stalker had been sending her anonymous gifts and messages and had even been spotted near her home.

"We need to catch this guy before he escalates," Morgan said, his voice filled with determination.

"I agree," Hotch replied. "Reid, you'll stay with Y/N to ensure her safety."

Spencer nodded, his mind already racing with the details of the case. As he and Y/N left the BAU office, he couldn't help but feel nervous and flustered around her, his usual calm and composed demeanor faltering.

Over the next few days, Spencer and Y/N spent a lot of time together, trying to piece together clues about the stalker. Despite the seriousness of the situation, they found moments of comfort and familiarity in each other's company, reminiscing about their high school days and catching up on lost time.

One evening, as they were going over the case files in Y/N's house, Spencer found himself lost in thought, staring at Y/N's face as she concentrated on the documents spread out before them.

"Y/N, I..." Spencer started, his voice faltering.

She looked up, her eyes meeting his. "What is it, Spencer?"

"I just... I never thought I'd see you again, let alone like this," he admitted, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.

Y/N smiled, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "Life has a funny way of bringing people back together," she said softly.

As they continued to work on the case, Spencer realized that his feelings for Y/N had never truly faded; they had simply been buried beneath years of separation and missed opportunities. He found himself hoping that once the stalker was caught and the case was closed, they would have a chance to explore the connection that had unexpectedly rekindled between them.

The days turned into weeks, and with the combined efforts of the BAU and local law enforcement, the stalker was finally apprehended. As Spencer and Y/N said their goodbyes, both promising to keep in touch, he knew that this was just the beginning of their story.

Standing in the hallway of the Quantico FBI building, Spencer took Y/N's hand, pulling her into a gentle embrace. This time, there was no hesitation, no discomfort—just the undeniable realization that sometimes, life gives you a second chance to reconnect with the people who matter most.

And as they parted ways, both Spencer and Y/N knew that they were embarking on a new chapter of their lives—one filled with hope, promise, and the possibility of a love that had been a long time coming.

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spncvr · 1 month

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hi! i love your writing!! wanted to ask if i could request a small blurb or sth of reader and spencer waking up in the morning?? really cute and fluffy hahah... take your time! :DD

mornings | s.reid

summary: waking up with spencer

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: um it's not smut ?? as in not, "he trhusted into her and growled when she called him daddy"-smut. but. like. u can tell they fucked. i think. kissing and my bad english ANYWAYS

a/n: hi pookie sprry it took me forever to answer this,, i spent the entire day soing math today this is my break. so its not that great pls bear w me crying emoji

masterlist

THE SUN ROSE behind the leaves that hung lazily on the branches. Through the voile curtains, tendrils of the sun rays bled against your skin, that brushed against his. The voile, no longer as pure and lush as it once was, twists and turns against the wind like a dance. The low hum of the city’s heartbeat echoes around the room in a chaotic symphony—and within the room was calm. You smile because for once, he was not somehow tied within this chaos.

Then, a whisper of a touch—his fingers were grazing your hips, uttering a verse only you’d understand.

Last night, he had kissed you—and maybe, because you thought he wouldn’t stop, because you thought he’d disappear, you pulled him closer, and closer; unwanting to let go. His whispers, pliant to your ears, had never been so soft. He held you; fingers against your waist and skin. His fingers had burned like wildfire; you felt it first against your cheek, your arms, then your hips. He held your heart by his soft fingertips, unscarred and gentle; his words were sugar-coated, leaving teeth rotting and hearts yearning. He kissed you, kissed you and kissed you. And the entire time, you were kissing him back.

You feel his smile against your shoulder, slightly dragging your shirt upwards, and you only hum in acknowledgement, too tired to reply with words. You feel your name against your skin.

“Hi,” he says, lips kissing your shoulder.

“Hey,” you manage to reply, and you turn your body so you’re facing him fully—and, when he pries the strands of hair out of your face you smile. “Morning.”

“Morning,” he replies. Then, “you’re beautiful.”

You bury your face in his chest, groaning quietly, he laughs. “What?”

“You can’t just say things like that,” you protest, your voice a whisper against his warmth.

“I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he says, entirely unapologetic.

You take it though, slowly sneaking a glance at him as you lift your head, to see him smiling down at you (a kind, lazy thing). His hand cups your cheek and he’s kissing you again. There are so many things you need to do today, you think; the paperwork at your desk, and the errands lined up on your to-do list in your phone that you never bother to update. But you were so tired, and Spencer’s lips were so soft. When his nose nudges against yours, your mouth lazily falls open. His fingers are on your waist, his thumbs painting shapes against your skin.

When he pulls away you tell him you love him, and you don’t need to wait for him to tell you that he loves you too.

guys reqs r open but its gonna take me a decade to actually write them so be warned LMAOOO (+ for the people asking for pt.2 to waiting room ITS BEING MADE!!! so excited to share sakjnskfjb)

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foxy-eva · 7 months

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Dancing in the Moonlight

Summary: Spencer gets creative in order to cheer up Reader

Request: could you please write about how sunshine!reader ends up having a bad day and grumpy spencer spends all day to no avail trying to cheer up the sunshine!reader. The thing that finally works is a little bit silly?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Category: Comfort, Fluff

Content Warning: Reader has a bad day and is upset but it's not specified why, mentions crying

Word Count: 1k

Masterlist

Just like a sunbeam sneaking through black curtains you came into Spencer's life all those months ago. He would never forget the first time he felt the heat your presence radiated, warming even the darkest corner of his heart. After those long days of fighting evil, he craved nothing more than coming home to bask in your kindness.

However, when he entered your apartment that night, Spencer immediately realized that something was different. Where he'd usually find excitement and joy, he only saw a fake smile on your face.

"What's wrong, my love?"

Spencer found his place beside you on the couch, offering to pull you right into his arms. You hesitated, afraid that his touch might break loose the tears you so desperately tried to hold back.

Instead of accepting his embrace, you just shook your head and answered, "I just had a bad day."

Spencer knew that it must have been a truly terrible day for it to take away your smile. You were the most optimistic person he had ever met, always seeing the good in everything even when he couldn't.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What can I do to make it better?"

You just shrugged and leaned back on the couch, ready to simply wait until this day would be over.

Spencer, however, decided to make it his mission to cheer you up. After giving it some thought, he realized that he had no idea how to do that, though. Usually your roles were reversed with you being the one to comfort him after a bad day. You were the one who – without fail – always managed to light up his life.

Now it was his turn to do the same for you. He just needed to figure out how.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He offered.

You shook your head while sinking back further into the couch. Spencer reached out his hand to brush over your fingertips. His touch was soothing, so you opened your palm to take his hand in yours. He moved closer to you until his shoulder touched yours.

When you locked eyes with him you managed to flash him a timid smile, not as genuine as usual but less fake than before.

"Hey," Spencer whispered.

"Hi," you breathed.

His lips found yours in a brief and innocent kiss. It wasn't enough to make up for what happened today but you appreciated his attempt to light up your inner spark again.

Spencer quickly noticed that his nearness alone wouldn't be enough to cheer you up.

"Are you hungry?" He asked. "I could make you something to eat."

"I already had dinner earlier," you declined his offer.

He got up from the couch to turn on the TV and put on your favorite show before disappearing in the kitchen for a few minutes. When he came back he handed you a mug with freshly brewed tea.

"Thank you," you said while taking the beverage. "I really appreciate it."

It was true, you did appreciate his attempts to make your day better. It didn't work though. As he sat with you to watch the show while occasionally checking your facial features, he realized that, too.

"You're still upset," he stated with a frown present on his face.

"Sorry, I–"

"Don't apologize," he interrupted you. "It's not your fault. I just hate that I have no idea how to help you. You're always there for me and know exactly what to do or say and here I am… so…lost."

"It's okay, Spencer. I'm sure it'll just pass. Tomorrow is a new day."

"No, don't you try to cheer me up!" He protested. "This is about you. I really want to make you feel better."

You turned your head to look out the window. The sun had already set, all you could find was darkness on the other side of the glass. It almost felt like a metaphor for that day, as if all you could do was to wait for the next morning to let the rising sun warm your heart again.

Spencer couldn't accept that, though, so he suggested, "We could go for a walk. Maybe the fresh air will help you clear your head."

It was worth a try. Chilly air met puffy cheeks when you stepped outside, Spencer’s hand immediately reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. Walking side by side, you followed his lead, unable to make a decision as to where to go yourself. Soon you stepped into a park together, noticing how a mild breeze created a rustling sound as it met leafy trees.

Tilting your head, your eyes wandered over the night sky. The moon was bright and big, almost looking unreal from your point of view. Although it was only borrowing its light from the sun, it still did its bet to illuminate your path.

Very sudden and without a warning Spencer stopped his motions to step in front of you. He softly smiled at you when he said, "Dance with me."

Those were words you never thought you'd hear from him, so you asked in disbelief, "What?"

He gently got ahold of your wrists to move them to his shoulders before he grabbed your waist.

"Dance with me," he repeated.

And so you did.

At first you just swayed from side to side, not unlike all those kitschy prom scenes in teen movies. There was no music playing but that was alright, the sound of the wind was your beat while some sleepless bird sang the harmony. When Spencer made the first step, you simply followed his motions.

It was clumsy and graceless but he didn't give up, not even when he almost fell over his own feet. The smile slowly forming on your face spurred him on to keep going despite his lack of skill. There was no holding back the laughter spilling from your lips each time your chests almost collided because you missed a step.

However, after a few moments your body moved naturally with his, almost as if you had done that a million times before. Your smile grew bigger with each spin, making you slowly forget the sorrows of the day. And although the sunrise was still many hours away, just like that your inner light began shining again.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @melifluorei-d @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @snapeknot @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr

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v1olentdelights · 10 months

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You’re Gonna Go Far

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader, BAU x fem!bau!reader

Summary: Time passes, and people change, but one thing will remain steady.

TW: nothing

a/n: I read something on tiktok that was like, "You have to let a girl name a fic after a lana or noah song(it's a canon event)." It's so funny because it's true. Here is My Noah Kahn titled fic!! Let me know what you think!! Also thank you @magic-is-beauty and @teddy-the-teddybear for reading it over! :) love you guys

After consulting with The BAU Section Chief and your Unit Chief, who also happened to be your long-time boyfriend, you decided it was your next step in your career. Even if you didn’t want to leave behind your work family, you knew they would understand.

—

You flopped down onto your bed, letting out an exhausted sigh. The week had been filled with meetings and tying up loose ends. Next week would be your very last week at the Quantico branch of the BAU. If the team got called into a case, you would stay behind with Penelope and work it out from there, hoping that it would end quickly so you wouldn’t miss your plane.

The familiar sound of little running footsteps made a small smile appear on your face. No matter how down or tired you felt, Jack could always make you smile. The door was flying open, and seconds later, he had pounced on you, wrapping his arms and legs around you and shoving his neck between your head and neck.

“Hey Jack. How was your day at school?”

“It was awesome, we got to take the class pet out of her terrarium.” He spewed the words out fast as he pulled his head up to look at you. “ Do you know what frogs feel like?” As you shook your head, no, he had already begun to talk again. “They feel icky, and they look kind of scary because they can’t smile. And we had to wash our hands after, really well. And for snack today, I brought those vegetable chips. Everyone thought they looked weird, but I remembered that it didn’t matter because I liked them. And-“ You put your finger to your lips, telling him to stop for a moment. The giant breath he took was almost comical.

“I’m glad you liked the chips, but please take a breath. Or you're going to get so dizzy you’ll fall over.” You both laughed, but his face turned sad.

“I just want to tell you everything because I know you’re leaving, and then I can’t tell you anything. Because dad says you are taking a plane to your new home. Which means I can’t talk. To you anymore.”

“Oh, honey.” You brought a hand up to his cheek, rubbing your thumb against his cheek in a comforting circle. “You can always talk to me. You can write me letters, and I’ll come back to visit sometimes. You can also call me sometimes. There is no need to be super sad.” Sitting up slightly, you gave him a cheek kiss. “Now, let's go find Daddy and see if he’ll buy us ice cream.”

——

Aaron did take you out for ice cream, but he stood back a bit… taking it in. Jack had been observing all the ice creams, even though he would pick play dough, the most sugary kind, every single time. You were crouched down next to him, looking at all of them, making comments about each of them.

“Aaron, honey, do you know what you want?” Your smile never fails to make his heart light up.

“Strawberry of course.” He chuckles before coming up beside you and paying for the cones.

You three made your way to one of the bench’s near the parlor.

“Can I try some of yours?” You asked Aaron slyly. He was about to offer you his cone, but you kissed him instead, tasting the strawberry on his lips. Jack started to make fake throw up noises.

“Stop it! You guys are icky.” He laughed before pushing on his fathers chest, attempting to put some space between you two. It was like a scene from a movie, a happy family of 3. You made sure to take a mental picture to save for a sad rainy day.

——

Now, your heart was beating out of its chest. You were standing in front of the monitor where the cases were presented, but you were all meeting for another reason. Aaron gave you a quick kiss for some reassurance before taking his seat at the round table.

As everyone began to file in, you could feel your heart was going wild, and your eyes began to feel heavy, as if the unshed tears weighed a ton. But when you saw Penelope walk in with he bright smile and sparkly headband, you knew you wouldn’t survive this.

“What’s going on here?” Dave asked first. Both him and Blake looked like they knew what was happening. Maybe they could tell. Penelope then jumped up from her seat.

“Oh. My. Gosh!! Am I getting another god child? I need to know, I’ll start shopping now, maybe it could be an elephant themed room or-“ But Aaron cut her off.

“No Garcia. Just take a seat, please.” You could hear the pain in his voice. Her face physically dropped before she took a seat, Derek reached out and held her hand on the table.

Why was it this hard? You knew they would support you, that they would be happy for you. You watched it happen when Emily left. It would be hard for a bit, but they would get past it, and they would persevere.

“So. A while back, I was looking at this program. I signed up for the company newspaper just to keep up with it, even sent a few emails asking about the projections for the next year and its supporters. It seems that the company also did some research on me.” You sat down in an open chair near you and ran your hands down your legs. “So they asked me to join them!”

“That’s amazing, Y/N!” Spencer exclaimed with a boyish smile on his face.

“That's not all, though, is it.” Derek stated, he had enough people leave him. He didn’t have to be a profiler to see what was coming.

“Yes, there’s more.” Here was the kicker. Taking a deep breath, you finally let it go. “It’s in Europe.” The atmosphere changed drastically. But it was hard to place what it was. “I don’t expect anyone to know what to say. But I’ve already accepted, and my ticket is bought. I am kind of regretting it now, I feel like I should stay here with you guys. You’re my fami-“

“No, you need to do this Y/L/N,” Blake said with a smile on her face. “We all understand.” It was comforting to hear it from her. She had that mother kind of aura around her.

—

The week progressed slowly. People milling around the bullpen, pens scratching on papers, the humming Spencer didn’t know he did, the coffee machine, all the normal sounds. It felt different. It all felt different now. You tried to commit every little thing to memory because if you were to never return, you’d want to keep this with you forever.

——

Your final family dinner, everyone was there, even Strauss stopped by for a bit. Henry and Michael made you a picture. It was the whole unit in Rossi’s backyard. Of course, there was an abundance of paint handprints and glitter, but that’s what made it even more special.

The sound of a utensil tapping a glass caught everyone’s attention.

“As we all know, this is our going away party for Y/N, the best in our unit. Even though we will hopefully see her all week. Tonight is about reminiscing on our past times. But it is also a time to look forward to our future. We have lost agents in the past, and we have mended our hearts. But we have never forgotten them.”

“You make it seem like I’m dying, David!” You tried to lighten the mood a tad. If he kept going on like this, you would begin to cry.

“Of course not! But we are losing you, are we not?” He chuckled a bit before continuing. “It is a once in a lifetime opportunity you have been given. And though we’ll miss you, I think we would be even more hurt if you didn’t accept” Penny stood up then, tears already filling her eyes.

“It makes me smile to know that when things get hard, you’ll be far from here. Which I know sounds bad since you have been here for all this mess for the past 8 years. But still, you are getting a chance to see some more kittens and less… gore.” She shuddered at the thought. Spencer spoke up next.

“We aren't angry at you. You’re the greatest thing we’ll have lost. But the birds will still sing, and Penelope and Derek will still keep up their banter. The bull pen will still be filled with the noises of shuffling papers and the dying coffee machine.” You let out a watery chuckle. You had tried to fix the poor thing so many times and never seemed to win, but it was still running. “Things will continue to move along. And we’ll be here waiting for you, waiting for you to come home.”

“Don’t worry, I will make sure to mention you all in my speech when I win some great award.” Bringing a hand up to wipe away your tears, you noticed how shakey they were. They always seemed to do that when you were sad. “And trust me, I will be coming back. You won’t be getting rid of me that easily!”

—

When you got home later that evening, you sat in the bathtub for a while with a lavender candle in hopes of riding yourself of a headache. It all felt like too much. You were leaving behind the past 8 years of your life just like that.

You hadn’t heard Aaron enter the bathroom, not even noticing him until he kneeled down next to you.

“You told me in your initial interview that you wanted to make a difference, darling. And that is what you are doing. Please don’t feel bad for leaving because you are chasing your dreams. Something not many people get the chance to do..” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then the other.

“I know. But in leaving behind you guys, my family. I’m leaving behind my Jack, and my goldfish, what am I supposed to do with her?!” You whined. Obviously, you knew it was something stupid, but all the little problems seemed so much bigger.

“You know Jack is going to be okay. He is in his room making a colander of when to call you. I told him the time difference so he could figure it all out.” He kissed you gently on the lips, pulling back a bit, he continued “And you know he will be more than happy to take care of her for you. It will be another reminder of you.”

It provided a little comfort, though you know it would only last so long. Everything was running through your head, so many emotions were trying to be processed.

“Let’s get you out of the bath and into bed.”

“If you wanted me naked in bed so bad, you should have just asked Hotchner.” He simply rolled his eyes at your antics. You got dressed and bundled up underneath the comfort, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

——

Today was the day you were all packed up and ready to go. What you didn’t know was the whole team had come to see you off.

As Aaron, Jack, and you made your way towards your gate, you and Jack holding hands, you recognized the gangle of people waiting near the waiting area. Penelope was the first to spot you. She began to wobble her way over to you. That was something you would miss dearly, her and her high heels.

“Oh Y/N!! I'm going to miss you so! But just know I will be out there next month! I have already got some tickets lined up!” She squished you tightly before letting you go. Derek came up to you. His smile was as bright as can be.

“One day you’ll see how proud of you we are.” Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, he pulled you in for a tight embrace. JJ covered her face with her hands. You assumed it was to try and hold her tears at bay.

“Y/N, my sister.” You could tell it came out quieter than she meant it to. “What am I going to do without you by my side? My partner in crime.” She rubbed her hand over your arm in a motherly way. Even now, she couldn’t turn off that mother instinct.

David held your head in his hands. You knew what this meant.

“Y/N, I don’t think I have ever met someone as compassionate as you, someone as smart as you, sorry Reid,” he turned to face the doctor for a moment before turning back to you. “I trust you with my life, and I would have it no other way. You are going to do great things, kid.” He pulled you in for a hug. Blake came next.

“I haven’t known you for long. But for the time I have had the pleasure of knowing you, I have found you to be extraordinary. Like everyone else has said, you will do great things.” She shook your hand firmly.

You didn’t know how you were holding it together. And then Reid stepped forward with tears in his eyes and a few having already fallen.

“I don’t want you to go,” his lower lip quivered “but I know you need to do this. And I am glad to have known you. I love you, Y/N. Don’t forget to write.” He held you tightly, as if he was afraid you would disappear when he let go. Though you suppose you were.

Little Jack, who had been standing next to you the whole time, let out a little cry.

“Y/N, do you really have to leave?” Crouching down to be at eye level with him, you could feel the tears falling down your face faster.

“Honey, I do. I’m going to help people. Remember what we talked about, though, right? You even made that schedule, and Aunt Penny made me a copy, too. I’ll hang it up on my fridge so I can see it.” He grabbed hold of you, looping his hands around your neck. You could feel his tears stain your shirt.

“Who is going to get ice cream with me? Or tuck me into bed and wish me that the bed bugs won’t bite? And dad can’t fold my shirts the way you do. He can’t play with my legos the right way, either.” He was desperate for you to stay. You knew this would be hard on him. Having lost his mother at such a young age and now losing the other mother figure in his life.

“It’s going to be hard. But you will just have to teach Daddy how to do those things. I’m sure he will learn.”

“But he’s not you.” He let out another cry, and it shattered your heart.

"NOW BOARDING FLIGHT BA 98”

That was you. It was time to leave behind your life, your family. But you were starting something new and exciting. Standing up, you straightened out your shirt a bit. Looking around, you absorbed the moment, trying to memorize all their faces, taking in all the memories.

Finally, you turned to Aaron, your lover. It had been decided by the both of you that it was best to go your separate ways for now. Not necessarily forever, but just for now.

You had only seen Aaron cry a handful of times. The stone cold face, his work facade, was something you had grown used to. And so was the smiling face he reserved for you and Jack, as well as the team after hours. But this Aaron, this was something new. He grabbed your hand and pulled you close into an affectionate hug.

“If you want to go far… then you gotta go far.” He said quietly in your ear. He pressed a kiss to your lips, just a small short peck, but then came back for more. Nothing flashy or anything, just more… meaningful, filled with more emotion.

”BOARDING FLIGHT BA 98”

——

As you sat in your seat, you pulled out a picture you had kept in your wallet for the past few years. It was one of your team members at your first ever Rossi dinner party. The smile upon each of your faces was a reminder that no matter how far apart you were, no matter how many horrors you had seen, you would always have each other.

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year

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CM Comfort Fic Masterlist

Hey everyone! I want to start by saying thank you so much to everyone who participated in this monthly challenge - it was so much fun to write alongside you all, and I can’t wait to share everyone’s hard work.

So without further ado, here are the entries for the Comfort and Cuddles Challenge!

P.S. If you have a late entry, feel free send it to me!

SFW Character/GN!Reader Fics

Spencer Reid

Stardust by me: Reader lost someone very important to them. Spencer helps them through a particularly dark moment of grief.

A Desert Bloom by me: Reader has never liked cacti. Spencer finally finds out why.

Piece of Paper by me: Spencer and Reader discuss Autism evaluations.

Rotten by me: Reader struggles to feel at home in their body following a trauma.

Home by @aperrywilliams: Reader gets a call from JJ saying that the last case hit Spencer hard.

Plushie Talk by @specialagentsergio: Spencer has trouble communicating his emotions sometimes. Luckily, his partner has taken it in stride.

Lean on Me by @milla984: Spencer is feeling under the weather.

Tara Lewis

Never Let Me Go by @foxy-eva: Reader has anxiety and gets overwhelmed during a case so Tara comforts them.

Check below for more entries + the Challenge Co-Creator's Bonus List!

SFW Character/Fem!Reader Fics

Spencer Reid

Waltz With Me by @foxy-eva: When Reader is sad that she won’t be getting a New Year’s kiss, Spencer is there to save the night.

In the Dark by me: Spencer comforts Reader following an assault and the nightmares it provoked.

Hard Time by @c-m-stuff: When Gideon left, Reader and Spencer struggled with the loss.

Here (In Your Arms) by @fortheloveofwonderland: Drunk confessions lead to realisations and understandings that result in Reader and Spencer finding comfort in each other’s arms.

Christmas Like No Other by @beelmons: After a blizzard messes up plane schedules, Reader and Spencer are stuck at the airport on Christmas Eve.

Matilda by @leahblackk: Spencer finally knows all Reader's past.

It's Okay if You're Not Okay by @babymetaldoll: Reader feels ugly and a very bad mom after having their first baby, and Spencer comforts her.

Emily Prentiss

Brownies & Conversations by @railingsofsorrow: [Platonic] Reader has been doing a great job putting up a mask, until Emily notices and calls her out for it.

Other Pairings

Patience & Hope by @foxy-eva: [Ralvez] Spencer and Luke learn what being a family really means.

In the Event of My Demise by @fortheloveofwonderland: [Ralvez] Months after his release from prison, Spencer Reid still hasn’t allowed himself to deal with the residual trauma of what happened to him.

Stand as One by @masterwords: [Hotchgan] Derek and Hotch are invited to a BAU family reunion. No one knows about them, and Derek is feeling a little self-conscious about his scars. (AO3)

The Graves Beneath My Heart by HappyJemilyinParis (AO3): [Hotch/Haley] Hotch is forced to go back to his hometown to spend a day with Haley's family as they celebrate the one year anniversary of her death.

Care, Would You? by cherubcurls (AO3): [Platonic, Spencer & Penelope] The team gets injured on the case, and Penelope has the habit of worrying herself to death.

Snuggle Hours by cherubcurls (AO3): [Platonic, Derek & Spencer] It was easy to forget everything as he shuffled into Derek's arm in the middle of the night.

Scars to Your Beautiful by @lcvingprentjss: [Emily/TransMaleOC] Emily struggles with her self-identity after having to fake one for so long.

Co-Creators' Bonus Lists!

If you're still looking for more recs on this topic, feel free to peruse the following fics from myself and the co-sponsor of the challenges, the lovely @foxy-eva!

Foxy Eva (SFW)

Gender Neutral Reader

Darkness of the Night: Spencer comforts Reader, who's having a rough night.

Heavy Heart: Reader finally feels at ease when Spencer holds them.

Pretty Peduncles: Spencer finds beauty and strength where you only see weakness in your scars.

Comfort Kisses: Spencer was struggling after a tough case until he finds comfort in Reader's arms.

Embrace: Spencer finds the best way to comfort Reader when they need him most.

Breathe Easy: Asthmatic!Reader. Whenever life takes Reader's breath away, Spencer makes sure they can find it again.

Female Reader

(In)visible: There were a lot of obstacles Reader had to face as a queer woman but she never thought falling in love with a man was one of them.

Unexpected Visit: After his girlfriend was surprised by an unexpected period, Spencer makes it his mission to comfort her.

Offering Options: When Spencer finds out about his girlfriend’s pregnancy, he makes sure she knows he will stay by her side no matter which choice she makes.

Handle With Care: Spencer tries to be there for his wife after a traumatic experience.

Myself (NSFW)

Female Reader

(Don’t) Hurt Me (Part 1, Part 2): After being saved from the clutches of death at the hands of two serial killers, Reader leans on Spencer to heal.

Lily of the Valley (Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3): Unsub!Reid. Spencer was found guilty but mentally ill after the torture and murder of several men. He finds solace in his psychiatrist at the institution.

Cupid & Psyche: Reader and Spencer get kidnapped by a rather romantic matchmaking unsub who demands they perform for him.

Stork Song: Spencer and Reader try to find intimacy again following a terrible loss.

Relief in Regrets❣️: Spencer turns to his ex-girlfriend in a time of need.

Post Coital Dysphoria: Spencer comforts Reader after sex.

Body of a Goddess: Soft Dom!Spencer reminds plus sized-Reader just how much he loves her body.

Handle With Care: Reader gets hurt during sex.

Myself (SFW)

Gender Neutral Reader

Homemade: Stuck in quarantine, Reader decides to make some skincare masks with their boyfriend. They talk about some heavy stuff with green faces.

Melancholia: Reader has been acting weird lately, so Spencer makes a much needed wellness check.

Pair of Aces: This Pride month, Reader decides to share something with the team.

Diamonds: Spencer comforts Reader when they have a bad pain day.

All Mixed Up: Dyslexic!Reader struggles to order at the restaurant, so Spencer helps them through it.

Favorite Person: Reader just needs a little extra reassurance sometimes.

Pyrotechnics: Reader has a hard time on Fourth of July, and Spencer makes them fall in love with fireworks again.

Lavender: Spencer is no stranger to headaches, and he tries to help however he can.

Storm: Reader has a panic attack.

Haunted: Spencer’s never told anyone what happened in prison.

Like Father, Like You: GN!Child. Platonic. In which Spencer’s child comes out as not-straight.

Female Reader

Astraphobia: SSA Reader and Spencer share their most embarrassing fears.

Sharks & Symbiosis: Spencer helps Reader through her time of the month, and ends up talking way too much about fish.

Honeysuckle Hair: Spencer has some words to say about Reader’s curly hair.

Prickly Pear: Reader tries to hide her body hair from Spencer. It doesn’t end well.

Porcelain: Autistic!Reader has a meltdown in the cafe. Luckily, there is a Dr. Reid nearby.

Baggage Claim: Autistic!Reader is having a hard time at the airport.

Act Your Age: Platonic. Reader was recently released from being held hostage for several years, and for whatever reason, she’s taken a liking to Spencer.

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reidscanehand · 2 years

Text

Sixty Percent

A Sequel to Twenty Percent

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUfem!Reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort/Angst/Fluff

TW: eating disorders, eating disorder recovery, very frank language and discussions of body dysmorphia, discomfort with weight gain, fighting with family, worry about weight loss, and mentions of pregnancy

Key: A/N = Aunt’s Name; N/N = Nephew’s Name; S/N = Sister’s Name

This has been a long time coming. In terms of my own recovery, I’m not quite there yet, and I certainly don’t have as constant a support as living with a boyfriend like Spencer Reid, but things are better. I hope the best for you if this is something with which you’re also struggling. This is just three little scenes during Y/N’s recovery - all of them deeply personal and based on real life events (this is a very self-indulgent fic).

Hope you like it and all the love to you xx

~ Things tend to scream when dying. - Amalie Lee ~

You’re so quiet in the entryway to the kitchen that when Spencer turns and sees you standing there, he’s certain you’ve been there for quite a while. You’re not looking at him, but clearly have the intention of saying something to him. He decides to give you the time you still clearly need to say whatever you’re going to say and turns back to dry the last of the dishes from dinner.

“Um,” you finally begin to speak, “I know that, um...”

You trail off as Spencer slowly turns to fully face you, “Something wrong, bun?”

“Well...no, I guess...I-I guess not,” you decide. “I mean it’s just that....we just ate dinner.”

“Yeah,” Spencer agrees vaguely, leaning back against the counter to keep himself from rushing to your side. It had been a good dinner, or so he thought, at least. The two of you made it together. Nothing special, just tempeh, some roasted sweet potatoes, and crispy brussels sprouts. Simple, but nourishing, as all of your meals needed to be. “Did you not like it?”

“No, that’s not what-what I’m saying,” you quickly correct and you shake your head so vehemently and look so unsure of yourself that Spencer wants to curse himself for saying something like that. “It’s just that...um...I’ve been having this...craving.”

You almost whisper the last word, as though terrified to say it at all. Spencer tries not to smile, tries not to show how overjoyed he is that you’ve recognized a craving at all.

“Oh?” he asks jovially, trying to encourage you without sounding condescending, just as he does whenever you comment on something food related.

“Y-yes,” you stammer out, clearly determined to tell him. “For...granola.”

“Granola? Like...like the cereal?” he clarifies.

“Um, yes,” you continue, scratching behind your ear and still not quite meeting his eyes. “And I know it’s not breakfast time and...and I don’t really n-need it, but I really want some and I was wondering if we could...run to the store and get it?”

He tries not to be overly enthusiastic. You’ve begged him not to baby you and even your therapist told him to not overwhelm you with praise. But he’s so proud - so fucking proud - that you’ve not only recognized a food craving, but that you’re brave enough to ask him to honor it. He grabs his car keys from the hook next to the doorway as he crosses to you, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Of course we can, my love,” he whispers, squeezing your hip as he does, hoping you can feel how ecstatic he is about this.

And it’s not incredible, really. It’s cereal - relatively healthy cereal at that. But as you pick a brand that isn’t weirdly packed with protein or overtly advertised as something healthy and even grab flavored almond milk to go with it - it feels like a huge shift.

And he isn’t condescending or overly babying about it. But as the two of you sit, knee to knee, watching tv over (miraculously unmeasured) bowls of granola and almond milk, Spencer can’t help the proud grin that sits on his face. It’s been a long year into eating disorder recovery with you. A long and, at times, absolutely terrifying year, but Spencer wouldn’t trade a moment of it, especially when it leads to moments like this.

~~~

One step forward, three steps back, so the saying goes. And nothing feels more like several steps back than dinners with your family. It isn’t that you have a bad family, you don’t. In fact, they’re lovely people and, really, truly, other than their strange lack of sensitivity surrounding your recovery, they’re a fantastic family. They aren’t pushy about your private life, they’re proud of the strides you’ve made in the FBI. All good, wonderful things. But it’s as though your need for support in recovery just doesn’t compute to them. Especially to your aunt.

Your Aunt A/N, who’s by far the pushiest person Spencer’s met in your family, doesn’t seem to get the required sensitivity of dealing with eating disorders at all. If he puts half a mind to profiling the situation, which he tries not to do out of respect to your family, Spencer could easily wager that a lot of her comments come out of living through the toxic environment of 90s and 2000s dieting culture. But it doesn’t really excuse the behavior.

It’s your nephew’s third birthday and you and Spencer make the drive to visit your family and celebrate. It’s actually been quite fun; the road trip was a delight, really, and every second with N/N and your family thus far has been really nice. But this dinner has been doomed form the start. You’d purchased a dress from a local vendor at an outdoor market in Philadelphia when the team had been stranded there on a case. Spencer thinks the off-white dress makes you look like a dream, you insist it makes you look like an ‘ugly potato’.

He hopes that the positive effect of spending the evening celebrating N/N will brighten your spirits. Your nephew is, obviously, thrilled to be in the spotlight, an entire treasure hunt set up just for him in your sister’s backyard. There’s a huge buffet of food and balloons and gifts and cake. It’s all very happy and sweet. But then A/N just has to speak.

“You’ve eaten an awful lot of watermelon tonight, Y/N,” she says unnecessarily as you finish off a small piece of the fruit from the buffet table. Even if he weren’t standing next to you, Spencer’s sure he could see your body freeze up as it does now.

“Don’t you know that stuff is packed with sugar?” your Aunt A/N continues, laughing patronizingly. “I thought you were supposed to be the healthy one around here.”

You smile tightly and look away from her, eyes brimming with tears.

“I’ll be back,” you whisper, partially to Spencer and partially to yourself, hurrying away to the bathroom inside. There’s a pause then, a brief moment where everyone realizes what’s happened. Your mother, sister, and father both look to Spencer, N/N wriggles his way out of your brother-in-law’s arms and runs over to Spencer.

“Where’s Aunt Y/N?” N/N asks sweetly, looking up at Spencer.

Spencer kneels down to the three year old, “She just needed to-”

“She’s being silly, N/N,” Aunt A/N interrupts, “and dramatic as usual.”

Spencer clenches his jaw and shuts his eyes determined not to say anything.

“Now, A/N,” your mother says gently, “you’re being unfair-”

“I’m being unfair?” A/N guffaws. “Y/N always does shit like this-”

“Please don’t curse in front of-”

“It’s not like he’ll remember any of this,” A/N cuts off your sister’s complaint. “And thank God he won’t remember his selfish Aunt Y/N being a crybaby because I-”

“Made a ridiculously rude and entirely unnecessary comment about her food,” Spencer states, standing abruptly and staring her down.

“Oh, come on,” A/N rolls her eyes dramatically. “She’s eaten, like, what? Half the watermelon-”

“She’s vegan,” Spencer corrects, his voice barely containing the anger burning in his throat. “There aren’t that many options for her here. No offense, S/N.”

“None taken,” your sister replies, smiling sadly. “I tried, but-”

“She liked the salad a lot,” Spencer reassures her before turning back to your aunt, “but she can’t eat any of the cake, so she ate some more of the watermelon. It shouldn’t matter to you what she eats any way. There’s absolutely no need for any commentary regarding what she eats.”

“Please, a little teasing about watermelon isn’t going to kill her,” A/N says far too casually for his liking. And Spencer tries, he really does, to keep in his temper. But he finds himself marching over to the woman, staring imperiously down at her.

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you? But it just so happens that Y/N is currently in eating disorder recovery and I know that may be hard to filter through your absurdly selfish brain, but that beautiful, incredible woman is working overtime every single day to relearn how best to fuel her body. If that means she gives into the craving of extra watermelon, then so be it. If that means she decides to eat nothing but cookies for a day, then so be it. If that means she quits being vegan and becomes a carnivore, then so be it. And it is your job to not say a single word about it. Any of it. Because, frankly, it’s none of your business,” Spencer explains as calmly as possible to the infuriating woman.

“You’re not even a part of this family, young man,” A/N attempts to fight back. “What gives you the right-”

“Y/N is the love of my life,” Spencer interrupts her again, his voice raising only slightly. “Which gives me every right in the world to tell idiotic people like you to keep their mouths shut about her recovery. Understood?”

To his delight, A/N looks rather ashamed and deeply uncomfortable. She looks to the rest of the family for support, but seeing none, finally looks back up at him sheepishly.

“Fine,” she grits out. “I’m...sorry.”

“Good,” Spencer replies just as bitterly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go make sure you haven’t completely demolished the progress she’s been making.”

Spencer begins to exit the yard into the house, stopped only by your father’s hand on his arm.

“Mr. Y/L/N,” Spencer says, “I’m sorry I-”

“I was just going to thank you,” your father whispers, “for telling off A/N. And for taking care of my little girl. Especially through...this recovery stuff. I know it’s hard and that...that we’re not the best at it....she’s-she’s very lucky to have you.”

“It’s an honor, sir,” Spencer assures him. “An absolute honor.”

~~~

Spencer Reid is, rather unequivocally, a genius. However, he finds it irritating when people mistake his genius for an inexistent form of omnipotence. Sometimes it’s because the fact that he feels it cheapens his knowledge a bit; cheapens behavioral science, too. But sometimes, like right now, he’s annoyed because he doesn’t actually possess any real form of omnipotence, but he does possess almost preternaturally good profiling abilities. Meaning that he knows that something is wrong with you, but he doesn’t know what it is.

You are, by Spencer’s metrics - which are biased and he doesn’t care - the best girlfriend in the history of the world. He’s so proud of you for your progress in eating disorder recovery and delighted by every milestone the two of you have hit in your relationship. So, of course, him knowing you really well is expected, but, in moments like these where you’re clearly keeping a secret from him, it’s horrible because he knows absolutely everything about you and he knows that you’re being cagey and weird because you’re trying to keep a secret from him. It also doesn’t help that now, almost a year and a half into your relationship, he’s moved in with you. Which, in situtations such as these, means that Spencer has more awareness of you than ever before and yet - somehow - he still doesn’t know what’s going on.

He truly might lose it. Especially as you wriggle out of his regular post-case hug and catch up with JJ to ride back to the station, leaving Spencer to ride back with Derek and Hotch. He tries, he really does, to keep it together, but he’s so out of his mind with worry that he can barely think straight. And there’s plenty of reason to worry.

The truth is: you’ve gained weight. And he’s noticed, but it’s not a bad thing. It’s, in fact, a wonderful thing in eating disorder recovery. You’d gained some steady weight over the past year and a half, but you’ve recently put on a few pounds and - while Spencer wouldn’t care what size you are - he knows that it’s delicate balance, trying to sustain recovery and fight the havoc eating disorders can wreak on your mind.

He tries to hold it together, he really does, but the second everyone’s back at the station, he grabs your hand and pulls you to a storage closet away from the main office without any preamble. He pulls you into the closet, turns on the small light (that doesn’t really help much), gently pushes your back against the door and anchors his hands on either side of your head.

“Spencer, what are you-”

“What is going on, baby?” he asks sternly, looking down at you. “You have to tell me what’s going on.”

“S-spencer, I...” you trail off, looking away from him. He takes one of his hands from the door and tenderly tucks his index finger below your chin, tilting it to look at him.

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asks calmly.

Your eyes grow wide, “No, of course not-”

“Are you angry with me?” he asks, running through the list of possibilities in his head.

“Why would I be angry with-”

“There’s got to be something, Y/N,” Spencer cuts you off again, staring desperately into your eyes. “You’re keeping something from me and I don’t...I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“Why wouldn’t I be alright, sweetheart?” you ask quietly, running your hands up his chest. “I’ve got you. I’m always alright.”

“Then what’s going on, honey? Because you’re keeping something from me. I know it,” Spencer searches your eyes, terrified when you open your mouth, only to close it again. He sighs, upset with what he needs to ask. “Is it...is it because you’ve...gained weight?”

Your eyes grow very large and he can feel your body tense up.

“Now, sweetheart,” he starts moving his hands to cup your face sweetly, “you know that that’s just part of recovery and-”

“You noticed?” you ask quietly, tears brimming in your eyes.

“Y-yes,” he answers uncertainly. “But I think it’s a wonderful thing. It is, right? It means you’re getting better and-”

“I’m pregnant,” you whisper, tears running down your cheeks.

Now it’s Spencer’s turn to freeze and he can feel his eyes growing as big as saucers.

You look up at him, eyes still filled with tears and uncertainty, “Spencer...is that...I mean, I’m sorry I didn’t....I-I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t just...I mean, when I lost my period before it was because I wasn’t e-eating and-and then I was feeling...and I just...I took some tests and then I went to the doctor and...I didn’t want to hug you at the crime scene because I thought you might f-feel it and...I’m...well...Spencer, please, say something.”

But Spencer can’t say anything. There’s too many emotions happening for him to even contemplate forming a sentence. His eyes are filling with tears and there’s a smile growing on his lips and he finally slightly tightens his grip on your face tilting it upwards for a kiss.

He pulls away from the kiss and presses another to your hairline, leaning his forehead against yours a moment later, “You’re pregnant.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Is that okay?”

“Is that okay?” he asks back, not even trying to fight his huge grin. “Y/N...that’s...this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever...I love you so much, you know that?”

“So you’re...we’re going to have a baby?”

“Do you want to have a baby?” he asks sincerely, thumbs rubbing away at the tears still running down your cheeks.

“I think so,” you admit softly, a small smile growing on your own face, “yeah.”

“Then it looks like we’re going to have a baby, Mrs. Reid,” he teases, pressing another kiss to your hairline.

“That’s not my name,” you giggle, your own fingers working to wipe away at the tears Spencer didn’t even know were falling.

“Not yet,” Spencer teases, pulling you into a hug, “but I think it’s got a really nice ring to it, don’t you?”

You laugh, but then you’re quiet, pulling back only to look up at Spencer seriously, “I know that it’s been hard, this recovery stuff, but I have to start eating for-for two now. And that means...” you trail off, but Spencer gets your meaning. He pulls you into an impossibly gentle embrace.

“I know, my love,” he whispers into your hair, “but we’ll do it just like we’ve already been doing it: one day at a time.”

~ “The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time.” - Abraham Lincoln ~

~~~

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pathologicalreid · 1 month

Note

You write fluff and flangst absolutely amazingly and I’m in awe every dang time!

Buuut since you’ve got spring break coming up, a little fic idea that’s in my head that I’ll never do justice! (If you’re interested)

Fem!reader finding out an adorable way to tell Spencer she’s pregnant. I don’t care if they’re dating or married or what - but like she puts together a crossword, or a puzzle and he just doesn’t get it. (If you wanna throw angst in, he leaves without getting it for a case and then realizes it in the middle of the night.)

puzzling | S.R.

trying to tell Spencer you're pregnant, but he's too concerned with your well-being to fill out your custom crossword puzzle

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: pregnancy and misc. symptoms., talk of fainting and blood tests. word count: 1.69k a/n: welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda! i hope this does your request justice and thank you for entrusting me with this idea!!!! <3

you

It was your pride and joy, the collection of folded papers that sat on the kitchen counter, next to a cup of coffee that you had already filled for him.

On your fake newspaper, you had created a custom crossword puzzle. With four very important clues.

Across: “Early stage of life”

Across: “American actress Frances _”

Down: “Must be finished by”

Down: “Veteran’s Day month”

You smiled softly to yourself as you heard Spencer’s footsteps coming down the staircase. Padding over to the kitchen counter, you sat on one of the stools, a cup of tea in front of you.

Before he even looked at the newspaper, Spencer leaned over to kiss you good morning, “You look tired,” he whispered, hooking a finger under your chin as if he were investigating the dark circles underneath your eyes.

“Way to make a girl feel good about herself,” you teased lightly, even though you knew he was right. At least you felt tired.

He rolled his eyes, “You know that’s not what I meant.” Turning to grab his mug of coffee off of the counter, he observed you again, “Are you sure your doctor said nothing was wrong?”

Smiling, you gave him a brief nod. You had gone to see your doctor a few days ago for nausea and fatigue, and Spencer would’ve gone with you had he not been on the other side of the country on a case. “They’re running some tests, but they didn’t see anything blatantly wrong,” the doctor was running a few blood tests, checking your iron levels and HCG.

Using his free hand, Spencer reached over and moved a lock of hair out of your face, “They said your blood pressure was low?”

Low blood pressure, as it turned out, was a pregnancy symptom that was most common in the first trimester. “You’re freaking out over nothing, Spence,” you told him. Really, it was something. A rather large something – or small, depending on how you wanted to look at it. “Come on, it’s crossword time,” you told him, using the end of the pen to tap on the newspaper.

“I worry about you when I’m away. You do know that low blood pressure can cause syncope, right? Did they prescribe you anything for it?” He asked, ignoring your wishes to move on and do the crossword.

There was a small part of you that just wanted to tell him, but frankly, you had worked too hard on the crossword puzzle to give yourself away like that. You couldn’t tell him that they didn’t prescribe you anything because they didn’t know how far along you were. A larger part of you knew that if you just got him to work on the puzzle, he would have his answers in about seven minutes.

Then his phone rang, he pulled the device out of his pocket, and the Caller ID on the screen caused you to slump your shoulders forward. It was Garcia. “Hey Garcia,” he greeted on the phone, “at the tarmac?”

You set your head on the counter and sighed in defeat as Spencer hung up the phone.

“Are you alright?” He asked you softly, tenderly wrapping an arm around your torso.

Humming, you sat back up, ignoring the stars in your field of vision as you did so. “I’m fine, you should go,” you insisted.

Spencer shook his head, “No, you’re sick. I’ll call Garcia back and tell her I have to stay back.” Acting bewildered at the idea that he had been so remiss as to agree to do his job while you were unwell.

You reached out and set a hand on his, “It’s alright, love. I can take care of myself,” you reminded him. Besides the fact that you were wholly self-sufficient, the only reason why Spencer would be asked to meet the team at the tarmac was if they were headed toward a particularly gnarly case – they needed all hands on deck.

“Promise me you’ll check in? Call your mom if you need any help, please,” he requested, pleading eyes following you as you got up to hug him.

Nodding, you wrapped your arms around him, “You should take the crossword with you.” Pulling away, you haphazardly refolded the newspaper and handed it to him.

Furrowing his brow, Spencer inspected the paper that you had given him. “We always do the crossword together on Saturdays,” he found you incredibly helpful on the pop culture clues. “We could save this one and then have two for next week,” he offered.

God. No. Your eyes widened at the idea of having to keep your secret for another week, shaking your head, you shrugged, “No, you should take it. It’ll make me look forward to next week even more,” you insisted.

He folded, and with a sweet kiss to the forehead, he was off to go save lives, remaining entirely unaware of the one growing inside of you.

him

The judgmental Italian behind him was proving to be a distraction, “Did you find something?” Spencer asked, eyeing the evidence board with frustration. Something bugged him about the case, and he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.

“Not right now, but it’s three in the morning,” Rossi said, joining Spencer by the evidence board. “Why don’t you give that big brain of yours a break?”

Shaking his head, Spencer crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I tried. I can’t stop thinking about the case.” Men were popping up dead in a small Missouri town at an alarming rate, and he felt so close to a breakthrough.

Dave nodded like he understood the feeling, that was probably why he had emerged from his hotel room so early, returning to the precinct before the sun peeked over the horizon. “What do you usually do to wind your brain down?”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “Crossword puzzles,” he admitted, any word puzzle would do the trick.

The chuckle from the older man next to him startled Spencer, “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?” Rossi looked around the precinct, “I’m sure we can find one around here somewhere.”

“No,” Spencer said, “I have one in my bag, actually.” He refrained from including the detail that you had given him the crossword puzzle, or else he’d never hear the end of it.

Clapping him on the back, Rossi lifted his coffee cup, “Then I suggest you go take the thirty seconds to fill out that puzzle and then get some rest.”

Once he was back in his hotel room, he changed before pulling out the pile of papers that you had sent him off with. Sitting on top of the bed, he filled out the puzzle in approximately six minutes and forty-three seconds. Once the letters were filled in, he skimmed the puzzle – just to check it over.

The only one that might’ve given him trouble was about an American actress – usually he had you to help him with pop culture, but he recalled having the same last name as an actress in Days of Our Lives.

It was interesting that the words “Baby” and “Reid” were right next to each other.

Wait.

Quickly, he calculated the odds that the words “Baby” “Reid” “Due” and “November” were all in the puzzle and when the numbers were put together, they made your anniversary. Spencer just as quickly called you, listening to the phone ringing.

His heart was racing as he waited to see if you answered the phone. “Hey,” your groggy voice came through the receiver.

“Where did you get this crossword puzzle?” He asked you, flipping through the rest of the newspaper for the first time.

You hummed softly, “You’re doing it right now?”

Looking at the alarm clock on his bedside table, he dropped his face into his hands. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t even think about the time,” it was just past four in the morning now, making it just past five in the morning in Virginia. “I just thought that…” his voice trailed off. What if it was just a coincidence?

There was silence on your end of the call, and he wondered if you had fallen asleep. You hadn’t been feeling well, and he’d woken you up with his phone call. “You thought what, Spence?”

The teasing lilt in your voice had given you away to him immediately. He knew. Every one of his suspicions were confirmed, “Y/N Reid,” he breathed.

“Spencer Reid,” you countered.

He took a deep breath, “Are you pregnant?”

“Yeah,” you answered simply, with about as much enthusiasm as he expected from you at five in the morning.

It all started to make sense to him. The low blood pressure, the drowsiness, and even the slight caginess when it came to him asking about your doctor’s visit. He swiped away a few stray tears, “I don’t know what to say.” It wasn’t a feeling he was overly used to.

You cleared your throat, “Are you happy?” Nerves clouded your voice, and he could hear you becoming more awake – more alert.

“I am,” he searched aimlessly. Elated. Thrilled. Ecstatic. “I’m so happy,” he told you, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say, I just… God, are you okay?” Dread washed over him, you were alone, sick, and pregnant at home and he was halfway across the country.

Sighing, he heard a ruffling on the other end of the call. “I’m great. I’m exhausted, I had no idea being pregnant was so tiring. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t know.” You sighed again, “I’m not making any sense.”

He laughed lightly at your rambling, “You’re making perfect sense. Chances are your energy will return during the second trimester.”

“Don’t get my hopes up.” You paused again for just a moment, “I’m sorry if I scared you. With the whole doctor’s appointment thing. They really are keeping an eye on my blood pressure and whole slew of other things, but they know the root cause.”

A giddy smile grew on his face, “It’s because you’re pregnant.”

A soft hum came through the phone, “It’s because I’m pregnant,” you concurred.

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