Hello friends, people call me Leah (she/her) so please feel free to do the same! I am a rusty writer and I write all the time, mostly of them end it up here. My requests are open and this is my guidelines. Please read it before sending a request.
I mostly write about dreams, and just to let you know that I love angst so if you ever have an angst request just know that I’ll be happy to help with the realization of your idea.
I have an obsession with astronomy, Halloween, Edgar Allan Poe and the moon so that’s something you will find a lot in my writing. And I love changing the theme of my blog ;)
<3 (comfort) ^ (angst) ~ (fluff) • (Based on dreams of mine)
I feel a little ashamed of my way of writing a few months ago, but my writing got better with the time. My most recent fic is “I only bought this dress (so you could take it off)” with Spencer Reid so if you want to check it out scroll down a little and you’ll find the link. Thank you so much and happy reading <3
Welcome to Leah’s imagination
specialist in Spencer Reid, angst, and greek mythology <3 and other things I can’t remember
Lies Pt.1 (^)
Spencer Reid and Y/n Y/L are two incredible agents with a beautiful relationship. But things get messed up when Cat Adams comes into their life.
Lies Pt.2 (^)
Spencer wants to apologize with Y/n and explain everything, but will she let him?
Lies Pt.3 (^,<3)
After things happened, Spencer is put into a very familiar position.
The ghost of the library (~,•)
Spencer had a long night and his feelings were hurting his mind, so he decided to go to his favorite library looking for the kind and lovely old lady owner of the library, but instead he finds Y/n who knows exactly what he’s feeling.
Twin Flames (^)
Emily, Garcia, Spencer and Morgan finds a little journal/Diary from reader and decided to read it, but that lead them to find her obscure secret leaving Spencer Reid with a broken heart.
Twin Flames pt.2 (^)
After the events that left Spencer and Y/n with a broken heart, Dr. Spencer Reid is feeling agony wanting to make things better to get back his best friend but things are never easy for those who love. Does things will ever get better?
Gold (~, <3)
Based on the song Gold Rush by the queen Taylor Swift. Reader is in love with Spencer Reid and all of him, but does Spencer feel the same?
Home (^, <3)
Spencer and reader got married a year ago and things went perfectly fine, until they weren’t the same.
Through thick and thin (^,<3)
Reader is pregnant, she was happy about it. Joy all over her body, her and Spencer had been married for two years now, and a child was all they wanted, until she heard him confess something that made her think. Does he really want a child?
Soulmates, myths, philosophers and invisible strings (<3)
Dr. Reid is a very loved professor in the college he teaches at, when he’s not working on the BAU. There’s also another person who is very loved in said college and that’s Miss Y/L also known as Spencer’s female version. The students thought they were soulmates so… why don’t tell pull the strings that were already attached?
Despise (^)
Reader is new in the BAU, Spencer doesn’t like changes therefore he doesn’t like reader.
Back together ( ^)
Being separated from your lover hurts, but seeing them hurt it’s worse.
Practical Magic ( <3, ^)
Y/n´s bloodline has a horrible curse for those who dare love a woman of the family, and because of that she had never fell in love yet the FBI agent Spencer Reid might change that.
Love is scary (^)
Love can be scary, but losing someone you love is more.
I only bought this dress (so you could take it off) (<3,16+)
Reader has been in love with Spencer Reid for way too long, and she has to take it off her chest and there’s just one way to do so.
Rough patch (^, <3)
A rough patch could break your heart, and break your lover’s too.
Do you dare?
visits his favourite library, but then he sees a notebook with the title “do you dare?” that catches his attention… would he dare?
New Year’s Day
Spencer is cleaning bottles on new year’s day with his lover.
Exile
spencer’s been in a happy marriage until it wasn’t happy anymore.
The Spencer Song
spencer’s best friend, y/n, can’t take spencer locking himself in his apartment anymore.
Matilda
Spencer finally knows all Yn’s past.
tw: sa
The irony of life
Spencer has to go undercover in a women’s prison after he came out of jail.
Blurb
Spencer Reid’s love language
Spencer Reid and nicknames
Ways Spencer and Y/n say “I love you” without saying “I love you.”
Arguments
Hurtful words
Mad
Comfort and touch
Little details
Down For You
I'm dating spencer Reid
Camera roll
Conversation edition
Conversation edition pt.2
Conversation edition pt.3 (Everyone should have a doctor friend)
Conversation edition pt.3 2.0 (Everyone should have a boyfriend doctor)
Disclaimer: I do not give permission to publish my work on another social network or in this one, or make changes to it. Please respect my work, I do this with a lot of love and effort. Treat people with kindness.
Summary: Reader helps Spencer shave after prison.
Request: reader comforts spencer shaving for the 1st time after prison? maybe he gets triggered w a knife near his face?
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Comfort
Content Warning: Razors, shaving, PTSD generally
Word Count: 1k
MASTERLIST
Spencer’s bathroom is more sterile than it’s ever been before. The scent of bleach is both calming and terrifying. He breathes it in, anyway. He stares down at his hands that are holding onto the counter like he might be able to break through the granite.
“Spencer?” you call.
He looks up and into the mirror. He doesn’t see you, though, because his eyes capture his full attention. They are still sunken, still bruised. It’s been two weeks, but it feels like yesterday. He knows how long it’s been because half of his face is covered by stubble.
The reflection feels alien. He runs a hand over his face to remind himself that it is real, only to find that it feels foreign, too.
“I can’t do it,” he whispers.
You know he’s talking about more than shaving.
There are no magic words to make these moments better. You have already exhausted every iteration of beautiful cliches, and you were left with the same broken heart.
You watch as your boyfriend paws and pulls at his skin while he scrutinizes his appearance in the mirror. You know there is a risk that he will slip away too quickly to stop himself.
There is a risk that he will forget where he is, but you have faith in him. So, you wrap your arms around his waist and hold him. Your hands settle over his heart that is beating quicker from the shock of kindness.
“You don’t have to do it,” you tell him.
He releases a shaky breath but holds back tears.
“But if you want to, you don’t have to do it alone.”
Spencer sits in the quiet, clean atmosphere. He breathes in the smell of bleach now mixed with your perfume. He closes his eyes. The world feels brighter without the light. Behind the thin skin of his eyelids, there is only the happiest versions of you and him.
This is exactly how he made it through.
This is exactly how you did it, too.
“Will you help me?” he says. His voice is small, and his hands are shaking when they rest over yours.
“Of course,” you assure him.
He lets out a breath with more force. The first thing you do is turn him away from the mirror. You can see his eyes moving quickly behind the lids, always searching for the origin of new sounds.
When the faucet turns on, he opens his eyes. His hand shoots out and grabs your wrist. His grip loosens almost immediately when you smile. Eventually, his hand falls back into his lap.
You are careful as ever when you bring the warm washcloth to his face.
It feels too much like fabric filled with rocks.
He flinches. You wait.
“It’s just a washcloth,” you whisper.
Spencer is breathing heavily through his nose. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are strained to stay fixated on the fabric in your hand.
You touch him again. He accepts it begrudgingly at first. After a few moments, however, it feels familiar. Although the minutes dragged on and the cloth turned lukewarm, you are more than happy to wait. You would wait at each step until he was nuzzling against your hand or smiling through shaving cream.
The second part doesn’t take nearly as long. The airy fluff feels nothing like anything sharp. It is smooth and soft, and it reminds him of you. You rinse off your hands but do not pick up the razor just yet. Instead, you use freshly washed hands to push back his hair.
Spencer looks up at you with the most pitiful stare. His eyes are wide and filled with longing for something he feels unequipped to provide.
You know he wants to kiss you, but the lower half of his face is out of commission.
You kiss his forehead instead. You do this to make him happy because you know as soon as you pick up the razor, things will change.
They do.
“Wait,” he says.
You set the razor back down.
“We don’t have to do this,” you remind him. With a lopsided smile and a chuckle, you run your hands through his hair once more. “I love you just as much when you’re scruffy.”
“I know,” he replies, and you are surprised to see it’s also through a smile.
Even more to your surprise, Spencer is the one to pick up the razor.
“I want to do it, though,” he decides. “I want to do it myself.”
He turns his back to you. Almost immediately, he glances back to ensure you’re still there.
“You’ve got this!” you chirp happily with both hands raised triumphantly.
He laughs. When he looks in the mirror, he sees you. Between each swipe of the razor, he returns to find your smile.
His motions are imprecise and hurried. There are a few moments where he stops to catch his breath again. In those more difficult moments, he finds relief in the shape of your hand on his back. It is difficult, but it is not insurmountable anymore.
As the last bit of hair is rinsed from his face, he lifts his head once last time. You are waiting behind him, with a dry fluffy towel in hand to catch whatever droplets might remain—whether they be saline or tap water.
He is quick to turn to you. The razor clambers to the floor and his hands find their place on each of your cheeks.
You try to catch his damp face with the towel, but he pushes past your hands until your lips touch, instead.
He kisses you and there is no scratching of stubble.
There is one fewer sign of the torment on his body.
You kiss him back and drop the towel in favor of him.
He is made warm enough to melt into your embrace before he lets out a final breath of relief.
He smiles with clean cheeks, and he is as beautiful as he’s always been.
(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)
Looking for more to read? Check out my Masterlist here!
"Baby I'm yours" Masterlist (Do I wanna know sequel)
This is the sequel of my first Criminal Minds serie "Do I wanna know?"
Summary: After years of mutual pinning, you and Spencer are finally dating. And everything is, in fact, perfect. Until life and work at the BAU start complicating your relationship.
How will reader and Spencer deal with Emily's dead? And with everything that involves dating your coworker and best friend.
Updates every Wednesday starting January 11th.
Chapter one: Fuck it, I'm in love
Chapter two: You were out of my league
Chapter three: To die by your side
Chapter four: "One love, one house (no shirt, no blouse)
Chapter five: "I used to think that Romeo was full of shit"
Chapter six: "Never forget I'm your man"
Chapter seven: "This is calm and it's doctor"
Chapter eight: "What if I'm someone I don't want around?"
Chapter nine: "The needle or me"
Chapter ten: "If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you."
Summary: Reader doesn't know what to think after the kiss between Spencer and Cat. Insecurities about their marriage surface in both Reader and Spencer. How severe will the consequences of what Cat did be?
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: Most of Spencer's traumas are only mentioned (Hankel, Dilaudid, Diana's illness, etc.). Angst and a lot of inner thoughts (I mean it: a lot). But not despair, my friends, happy ending.
A/N: Hello! Here is part two of Pandora's Box. Thanks a lot for all your comments, likes, and reblogs on part I.
------------------
Spencer's POV
Cat did it again. No. Scratch that. I did it again.
I'm still seeing her eyes full of betrayal. God, how did I let this happen? How I was not able to think of something else to do. I'm so stupid!
I thought about running after her to stop her and convince her to go home with me. But I know (Y/N), and it would have been worse to insist when it was clear that she was shocked and hurt.
That leads me to now be in our shared bed, staring at the ceiling as I sink into my own mortification. Emily and JJ called me several times during the night, but I didn't feel like talking to anyone. I just texted them that (Y/N) was fine, but I screwed it up, and she hated me now. I don't know why I thought that would stop the calls. It was the opposite, but I decided to ignore my phone from there. I knew that (Y/N) would not call or text me either. Besides her getting rid of her cell phone, I was the last person she wanted to talk to.
How do I fix this?
The more I thought about it, the more complicated it became. We were not only talking about me kissing Cat Adams. It was more than that. And even if (Y/N) didn't go further saying how bad she was feeling, she slipped a hint. And it hurt. It hurt to know I was hurting her. Maybe Cat was right. I was not made to have a normal life and be loved like that. Perhaps I didn't deserve her.
Spencer, stop it! Don't fall into Cat's game. She wanted this to happen. She wanted to ruin your marriage, I repeated myself.
The funny thing is maybe I ruined it first.
Tossing and turning, I couldn't find a way to fall asleep. That brought me to the months I spent in jail when I barely slept an hour in a row. Endless nights were I missed (Y/N) 's body next to me. Nights where I swore to myself that if I made it out of there, I wouldn't waste another minute without making her my wife. So I did it. The very day I was released from Milburn, I got down on one knee and proposed to her. No ring involved, just a promise to spend the rest of my life with her, loving her and raising a family.
Two years since that, and now I think about the things I promised and what I have fulfilled. I feel terrible realizing that I have failed her.
Tiredness got me at some point, but my brain didn't stop working. I dream about (Y/N). It was a sweet dream that turned into a nightmare when she told me it was over. That ours was over.
I woke up sweating and screaming.
I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let my incompetence makes me lose the best thing that had happened to me in life.
After showering and getting dressed early in the morning, I went to our habitual coffee shop and bought her favorite coffee and donut. I stopped by her dad's and left a bag with the treats and a note. A tiny gesture compared to the mess I had made, but I needed to tell her I was there even if she didn't want to see me.
-
Reader's POV
I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't.
After explaining the previous day's chaos to my dad - partially though, because I didn't want to give in to the embarrassing details - he let me stay in my old bedroom.
Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Spencer kissing that psycho over and over again.
I could see how his hands held her head, his eyes closed, lost in the sensation. Their lips moving in unison. His body pressed against hers.
Has he ever kissed me like that? Yes. He has. That is precisely the way I liked to be kissed.
When we started dating, Spencer was so shy at first, but he freed all the passion within him over time. I always wished to be the only one to see and feel him like that. And I really thought I would be the only one with that privilege. It seems I was wrong.
Why does it hurt so much? I mean, Spencer wouldn't do that to me, much less with that crazy bitch, right? I could bet he did not even want to do it.
Maybe it's the fact that there's a fucking Jiminy Cricket in my ear telling me things between Spencer and I aren't going well, and this shit is another proof that there will always be something interfering between us.
It terrifies me to think this could lead to the end of us, but I can't deny the idea has been on my mind for a while. It's true that we have never talked about it. It's true I have tried to deny that Spencer's absence affects me more than I let on. Has he noticed anyway? I'm afraid to know.
The next morning when I got to the kitchen, I saw my dad making coffee. Over the counter was a paper bag with my name written on it. It's Spencer's. I would recognize that handwriting anywhere.
"You don't have to open it," my dad told me, sensing the internal debate in my head. "I just brought it inside so you can decide if you want to do it or not."
It wasn't the only decision I needed to make, though.
Curiosity got the best of me. Inside the bag was my favorite coffee and donut. Of course Spencer knew it. Tucked in the coffee cup holder was a note.
'My love. Don't think this is me hoping that with just a coffee and a donut, you would forgive me. It is just a way to tell you I'm thinking of you. We have so much to talk about, but I won't push you to do it until you're ready. Please, only remember that I'm here, and I love you. Always yours, SR.'
Tears clouded my vision. I love him. That's not in discussion. But to be with someone is more than to feel love. It's about giving and receiving. It's about comprehending and being comprehended. It's partnership and complicity, things that have been away from us for a while. I will not blame Spencer for that because I have much to do with it. I should have said something. Is it too late now?
I took the lid off and sipped the coffee. I was thinking of him too.
-
Spencer's POV
Three days. The longest days of my life. Am I overstating? I don't think so. Because even if we had been apart for longer than three days, these circumstances made it worse.
The anxiety was killing me. Those days I went to work by inertia, unable to concentrate or be useful in any way. It was hard not to go over the last few months in my head. The signs, the unsaid things. The looks of disappointment when at any moment, the phone rang, and I had to leave.
Prentiss caught me deep in thought that afternoon.
"You okay?"
"Uh - yeah. I just got distracted. Sorry," I apologized. Emily shook her head and sat beside me.
"We both know it is more than that. Do you want to talk about it?"
I sighed, leaning back in the chair. I had the question on the tip of my tongue.
"Do you think fifteen years is a long time?"
Emily raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher the question's implication, but I knew she understood why I was asking.
"Well, I guess it depends on what you compare to," she ventured with a reassuring smile.
"I mean, doing this job. I had spent my whole adult life in the BAU. And don't get me wrong, I love my job-" I trailed off.
"But?"
"I love (Y/N) too, and I'm not good enough conciliating this job with my marriage. I can't make it work as JJ does," I confessed.
"If it is the case, having some time off should work to return some balance, but something tells me it's not the biggest problem," Emily asserted. Of course she did. She knew me better: it was more than the lack of time.
I chuckled bitterly.
"We have been only married for two years, and I feel I have failed her too much already. I mean, I was the one who said I needed to slow down after everything that had happened in Milburn. (Y/N) has been by my side in so many hard times. She was the first one I told about my addiction. She was there after the Anthrax episode. She took care of me when I got shot in Texas. I ran to her when they told me about my mom's Alzheimer's. Then jail happened. What else would she have to put up with? JJ's confession and being kidnapped by a cult. And now Cat again? Fuck, she saw me kissing her! The same woman who framed me for murder. How twisted is it?"
"She loves you too much," Emily pointed, trying to get me out of my rabbit hole.
"And I love her, but I always find a way to show otherwise, uh?" I mocked myself. I really felt like I was screwing up over and over.
"Spencer, none of those things have been your fault."
And maybe Prentiss was right. That didn't exempt me from my blindness, though.
"But it's been enough to have done something about it. Emily, I couldn't bear to lose her."
I could feel the lump forming in my throat.
"Spencer, she knows you love her. She married you for who you are. You just told me she has been with you in the toughest moments. You won't lose her."
How can she be so sure? I knew things never last long. I have seen people leaving me before.
"You know? It breaks my heart when I have to leave every time. (Y/N) always says she understands my job and never has demanded something from me. Still, I know she worries as hell every time I'm in the field, and I know there have been moments when she needed me, and I couldn't be there for her. I'm her husband! I promised to be there for her! Having more time could help, yeah, but I'm tired of this rhythm. I'm tired of being on the tightrope. I'm tired of the Tobias Hankels, the Cat Adams, the Mr. Scratchs-"
I had to stop my rant because I got out of breath.
"Well, if this is the matter, I think fifteen years is a long time then," Emily told me with a knowing look, patting my shoulder.
As a cue, my phone got a text: 'Are you in town? Can we talk?'
-
Reader's POV
Not two minutes had passed since I sent the text, and Spencer had answered, asking me when and where we would meet.
I figured it would be a complicated conversation, so I suggested it be in our apartment after work that day.
It's not like I wanted to torture Spencer for three days before to talk to him, but the events with Cat triggered a series of thoughts I didn't want to admit before. And the truth is, I wasn't sure how to deal with this. In fact, standing in front of the door and about to open it, I'm still not entirely sure what to say, just sure we can't keep putting this conversation off.
"Hi," Spencer said when he saw me. He was still in his work attire; only the tie was missing.
I returned a tight-lipped smile, stepping into the apartment.
I turned after closing the door, and Spencer just stood there, fidgeting with his hands. He was nervous, and so did I.
"Coffee?" He offered. I shook my head.
"No, thank you."
"O-okay," he mumbled, moving to the living room and gesturing to the couch for us to sit on.
Now we were both seated, maintaining a safer distance between us. Someone needed to break the silence. Spencer cleared his throat before speaking.
"About the kiss, (Y/N), I'm so sorry-" I cut him off.
"Spencer, not that yet. You need to start telling me what happened. It still confuses me how we ended in your old apartment with Cat Adams there."
Spencer nodded and recalled the events of that day: since the moment Penelope called him when we were at the coffee shop to him and Cat at the threshold, kissing.
After hearing the whole story, I couldn't understand how someone could set up something so elaborate to annoy someone else. Well, I don't know why I should be surprised; we were talking about Cat Adams, after all.
"Okay. So you thought a family and I were in danger. And she demanded a kiss. And you thought that would help," I filled. Spencer sighed, looking at his hands on his lap.
"Honestly? I didn't think anything. I felt trapped and knew I had no leverage on her. The opposite, actually. She was in control. I let her have me at her mercy," he confessed.
Spencer at Cat's mercy. Well, it wasn't the first time.
"You didn't seem troubled kissing her," I said bitterly. "I know it sounds childish, but you haven't kissed me like that in what? Months? It felt like I was nothing in your life, Spencer. It was like I didn't even exist and was watching a movie."
My voice cracked a bit while saying those words. Even imagining that I might not exist to Spencer made my stomach churn. It was worse to think I had already been losing him for a while or that perhaps he was never mine.
"(Y/N), that's not true. I -" Spencer tried to rebut quickly. I could feel the guilt in him.
"Spencer, it's okay. I can understand you were under pressure. But it was the way I felt. What would you think if your wife made out with the person who made her life a living hell for a long time?" It was a rhetorical question, though, because I would never do that to him.
"I know. And you might not believe me, but I was thinking of you. You were in my mind at that moment. Cat told me to do it as if she were you," he acknowledged. That didn't make me feel better. I let him know that.
"And you complied. That's the thing, Spencer. It's not the kiss itself; it's the fact you did what she told you. Again."
Spencer averted his gaze from me. He was embarrassed, and I hated being responsible for doing that, but he needed to know. I was done keeping things to myself.
"That makes me realize you're still caught up in her twisted game. Cat will never stop tormenting you, and I don't know what else I can do to help you. And it hurts me because I feel I'm not enough, Spencer. I'm not enough to really be by your side and be who you need."
Treacherous tears began to run down my cheeks. That was the admission I didn't want to reveal. After all these years, I thought, at some point, I could be in tune with Spencer's life. That's why I never said anything. I yet harbored the hope of living up to his expectations all this time.
"Don't say that! It's not true!" He argued, scooting closer to me on the couch, no longer afraid of proximity. "You are everything and more that I have ever needed and wanted. God. I love you, (Y/N). If anything, it's me who feels not worthy of your love. And I'm sorry, you are the most important person in my life, and I haven't shown you that."
"Then why do I feel then we are falling apart, Spencer? It's me imagining things?"
Spencer shook his head, a tentative hand reaching mine. I doubted for a second, but I welcomed his touch.
"It's my fault you're feeling this way. Believe me; you didn't do anything wrong."
His fingers stroking my hand resembled the way his touch always comforted me. In other circumstances, I would have believed nothing had changed between us.
"Are you sure? It's like we're becoming a couple of strangers. And I cannot understand if something about me bothers you or if I am simply indifferent to you. You don't trust me the way you used to."
I retracted my hand to protect myself from the pain it would surely follow when Spencer acknowledged I wasn't the person he wanted anymore.
"I know I have been pushing you away, but it's not because I didn't trust you. It's just I have been putting so many of my problems over your shoulders that I didn't want to overwhelm you. I'm sorry for not being honest with you," Spencer said, maintaining eye contact as if he wanted to imprint his apology on me. My lips quivered, and I was doing everything to not cry.
"Spencer, I'm your wife. It is supposed we lean into each other!" I complained. How was it possible he still did not understand he is not a damaged good and deserves understanding and support.
"And you always have been there for me. But what has happened the times that you have needed me? I am away most of the time, which is unfair to you. I'm your husband, and I should have been here."
His voice broke at the end. And it hurt me because that has happened more than once, but I decided not to say anything before.
"Spencer, I knew your job when we married," I reminded him. It was the truth. I knew what I had signed for. Spencer shook his head nevertheless, blinking back tears.
"That doesn't mean I don't do anything about it. I just let it pass. And it was wrong. You were uncomfortable enough to tell me you were worried or disappointed because of my job."
I looked away as I listened to Spencer describe my behavior over the past few months. It was hard to admit that I feared what it would mean to us if we discussed it. It seemed childish, perhaps, but like a scared child, I didn't want to feel vulnerable, saying it affected me.
"But it's what you do. It's your life. You chose to be a profiler, and you save people every day."
That was far more important, wasn't it?
"But I chose you too. And you are part of my life too." Now he had hunched before me, gently placing his hands on my knees. "Do you remember what I told you when I proposed?" He asked, smiling fondly.
Of course I remembered. After living apart for three months because Spencer was in jail, the moment of our reunion was one of the most emotional things I have experienced.
"Besides telling me you loved and wanted to marry me?" I replied - a blush creeping my face at the memory.
"Yeah, that too. I told you I wanted everything with you. I told you I didn't want to spend another minute without you. You make me whole and feel alive (Y/N). That's far more important than catching monsters and consuming my life for them."
Grabbing one of my hands, he brought it to his lips, planting a loving kiss. His gaze never left mine, and I could feel like my heart skipped a bit.
"What do you mean?" I asked in a whisper. He returned a smile, tucking a hair strand behind my ear.
"That I'm done. Fifteen years is more than enough, and if this job continues cracking the good things in my life, I don't want it."
I wondered if I was listening wrong or if my mind was playing tricks on me. I needed clarification.
"What? Are you saying-" Spencer cut me off, nodding his head.
"There are so many things we dreamed of doing together. Do you recall our plan to stay a whole winter in a cabin in the woods? Or the trip to Greece? The idea of moving to the suburbs?"
"Do you still remember all that?" I asked in disbelief. That seemed a lifetime ago. We had so many plans and ideas, but I thought this would only form part of an unfulfilled desire, of our youthful and innocent desire to achieve something different from what we were used to. I often felt those plans were a way of escaping from our daily life full of pain, ghosts, and fears.
"Of course I do! And it's not because I have an eidetic memory. If I didn't, I would remember it anyway because I still want those things. With you."
Stroking my cheek with his palm, Spencer looked at me intensely as he didn't want to miss any of my microexpressions. I felt bare before him, but it didn't feel odd or wrong. If anything, it felt like he was seeing into my heart and soul. I have missed that.
"Spencer, you don't have to. You are a profiler, and you save lives. Your life has been the BAU," I reminded him. I didn't want him to be doing this just because we were in a rough patch and for it to be something he would regret for the rest of his life.
"It has been, but I don't want it to continue to be. It's a job (Y/N). One that has given me a lot of satisfaction but also a lot of pain and has consumed me. I want that to change. I want us to be able to make plans and stick to them. I want that family we talk about so much. Sure, if it's something you still want," he pointed out carefully. My eyes widened.
"You say, kids?" Spencer nodded eagerly.
"Yes. Kids. Little you's and me's running around in our new house. Whom I want to rock to make them sleep, who I want to teach them things, take them to the park, and play with them," Spencer enthusiastically described. It had been a long time since I had seen him that way. I couldn't stop my lips from forming a smile. "Do you still want that?" His excitement changed to the expectation to know my answer.
"Yes, I do," I acknowledged, my eyes filling with tears at the thought that this could be a reality one day. Spencer beamed.
"Then let's have the rest of our lives like we want them to be," he offered. It was like we were saying our vows, like the day we married.
"Are you sure? Spencer, I don't want you to feel like you have-" Before I could say anything else, Spencer gently placed a finger over my lips.
"Hey. It's been a long time since I was so sure about anything. Baby, I love you. I want us, always. Will you accept this fool man, who is madly in love with you, as your husband again?"
His eyes were full of hope, illuminated by the glow of the lighted lamp in the living room. The man hunched before me was the love of my life. The man I chose to spend the rest of my days with. I could feel the sincerity in his gaze, the transparency of the shared longing that made me fall for him years ago.
"I do," I whispered, leaning down and tenderly cupping his cheeks. "May I kiss the husband?" Spencer chuckled, nodding and leaning forward until our lips met in a passionate kiss. Spencer's hands moved up to hold the back of my head as my arms flew to the back of his neck - our lips molding like they were meant to be. The time stopped, and nothing else mattered. I was there with him, and he was there with me.
That kiss sealed our complicity and love's declaration. A kiss that Cat Adams would never have the privilege of experiencing despite the many Pandora's boxes she tried to open.
Summary: Spencer gets called for work on his day off while having breakfast with his wife. He doesn’t know that the day will end worse than he thought.
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: Mention to prison. Mention of kidnapping. Cat Adams. If I forgot something, let me know.
A/N: Written for this request. Two parts: this is the angsty one (sorry). How should Spencer make it up to Reader?
------------------
Reader's POV
I always knew Spencer's job had its quirks. Granted, being an FBI agent is a dangerous job, and with my husband, this statement tends to be yet worse. Spencer has been kidnapped, drugged, shot in the knee, shot in the neck, framed for murder, incarcerated, and so on.
But after everything we've been through, one would expect things to settle down over time. Is it too much to ask?
I knew what was coming when the damn cell phone chimed that morning. It was Spencer's day off, and we had decided to go for breakfast at our favorite coffee shop since I had the day off too. It was rare we could match in our free time, and since we had both been very busy with our jobs, we wanted to enjoy that day.
Spencer gave me an apologetic look before answering the call.
"Reid," he spoke dryly. He wasn't happy about the interruption either.
While Pelenope surely told Spencer he should go to Quantico as soon as possible, I just stared at him—a glint of anticipated disappointment in my eyes.
"I'm so sorry," Spencer said, confirming my suspicions.
"Don't be. I know how it works." My answer was not reproachful, nor did I want to make him feel bad; instead, it was to clarify that I comprehended and accepted how our life's dynamic goes. "Don't worry, baby. I'm going to my dad's today and staying there. He's been asking me when I would have a sleepover with him," I commented. I knew Spencer would feel less guilty if I didn't spend too much time alone.
"Okay. That's good. And I promise I'll make it up to you," Spencer stated, getting up from his chair before planting an affectionate kiss on my forehead.
Don't make promises you can't keep, I thought.
Here is the thing. Spencer has good intentions, but time isn't on our side lately, so I only hoped we could have a chance to get at least a day to spend together with no interruptions upon his return.
After leaving the coffee shop, I stopped by the apartment to grab some clothes and headed to my dad's.
My dad greeted me in a tight embrace at the front door.
"I thought you would spend your day off with Spencer?" He asked once we parted from our hug.
I knew he was picturing a bad scenario. I'm not keen on sharing my marriage issues with my father, but he could tell there was something.
"Uh. Well. Spencer got called from work," I explained. My dad hummed, not saying anything. I regretted how I worded it because I hate portraying Spencer as the bad guy.
"What?" I asked.
"Everything is okay? I mean, between you and Spencer?" My dad questioned, concerned.
"Yeah. We are fine. Don't worry about us. Come on inside; you promised me movies and hot cocoa," I smiled at him, lacing my arm with his and heading inside the house.
-
Spencer's POV
Cat Adams. That name only means disaster. I should have known that. This time I hoped she only had ruined my day off with my wife- something a little more bearable than being framed for murder and incarcerated.
Arriving at Quantico, Prentiss and Rossi explained to me what had happened. Cat's associate kidnaped a family and demanded the release of Cat Adams.
Really she thought that could be possible?
Emily told me they were bringing her in a few hours and that I should talk to her.
I didn’t know if I was ready to do that, but a family was in danger. I had to.
She looked so pleased to see me that I felt nauseous, and my mind flew to Milburn. She knew what she was doing, but I needed to control myself and have the upper hand somehow.
My entire demeanor changed when she voiced her demand: a date with me.
The mention of a 'date' with Cat Adams sounded twisted and insufferable. But not going could have been a mistake. Cat knew I wouldn't refuse, not after she said my wife's safety was in danger too.
Frantically I left the room to dial (Y/N)’s number, and it went straight to voicemail. She never turns off her phone. I called her dad, and he said she left the house for a job emergency without explaining too much.
I looked at Emily, who had already told Garcia to track my wife's location. Minutes later, Penelope told us she wasn't at her workplace and was nowhere to find. Her phone's signal went dead after she left her dad's house.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I didn’t know how, but Cat had her.
Rushing inside the room where Cat was, I slammed the table, demanding my wife's location. Cat, of course, laughed in my face.
"I guess now no one could interrupt our date," she dared with a smug grin.
Against all my judgment, I agreed to a plan I wasn't even sure about.
-
Reader's POV
After Milburn, we talked with Spencer about the real danger we can be exposed to as a couple realizing the kind of job he had. Not that we didn't discuss it before, but the threat became real after that. We had a plan: if something happened, he would contact me directly - or through someone from the team - and if the communication could be compromised, I should get rid of my phone and not tell anybody my location.
When my phone rang that afternoon, we were watching a movie with my dad on the couch. I stood and answered in the hall. A sternly Spencer spoke: "This is an emergency. Met me at my old apartment. There is a key under the mat. Get rid of the phone and not tell anyone. Don't open the door to anyone, and wait for me there."
When I was about to ask what had happened, the call ended. I doubted for a moment. Spencer sounded so out of himself, but after what he had been through, I knew his job could stress him like that. So I just did what I was told.
I lied to my dad, telling him I had a job emergency, and left.
In my mind, I ran through all the possibilities, and none helped me stay calm. Everything could go wrong, like when Spencer went to Mexico without telling me.
Arriving at the apartment, I noticed the key was under the mat, as Spencer told me.
We always talked about what to do with his old place. Since we married, we got a new home, and Spencer rented his apartment. It happened that the last couple who rented it left a month ago, and we were still looking for a new tenant.
The place was almost empty. But still, some of Spencer's old books remained on the shelves. I took one to pass the time until Spencer could arrive. I didn't have my phone, so the only thing I could do was wait.
-
Spencer's POV
The last thing I thought I would do was ice skating with the woman who framed me for murder and kidnapped my mom and now my wife. Cat enjoyed every minute of my torture, and I just wanted to end it. My mind ran fast to catch any lead that could help me, but Cat knew me better. I don’t like to say it, but she, indeed, knew me better.
"So, I wasn't shocked when I discovered you married to that girl. I was shocked, though, knowing how neglected you have had her," she said casually, doing spins on the ice.
"You don't know what you are saying," I scoffed, trying to sound calm, but I hated how she dared to talk about (Y/N) and me.
"Don't I? So you will tell me you haven't canceled dates or left her for cases very often? That isn't good, Spencie, nothing good," Cat mocked.
I didn't want to give in that much, but how the hell this woman always managed to get under my skin? It's not that I wasn't aware of my messy schedule, but we always agreed with (Y/N) that it was my job, and she understood. Lately, though, things have been getting worse in that matter, and on that, Cat had a point.
When we married, I promised (Y/N) to slow down my job rhythm. After Milburn, I thought I had had enough, and it was time to focus on my life. It worked initially, but as the honeymoon phase ended, I did not slow down and even started overworking myself.
Everything I have been doing in the past months seemed like a stupid decision that had (Y/N) in danger because of my job now. If something terrible happened to her, I would never forgive myself.
“I know you’re waiting for me to slip a clue. But you will not get anything if you don’t show me your old apartment,” Cat demanded.
Now I was utterly confused. Why Cat wanted that?
The thing with Cat is always this way. She has a secret agenda you can’t decipher until it’s too late. I was afraid of that, but not giving up on her demands would put people in danger. I hadn’t an option.
“Why did you marry, anyway? You know you can be with anyone,” Cat spoke as we were being driven in the van. I snapped my head up. Cat shrugged. “What? I am right. Your job is everything to you, Spencie. Don’t lie to yourself; you can’t have a normal life. Not when we know we are so alike.”
“You don’t know anything. I love my wife,” I stated. Cat scoffed.
“I know enough. Tell me, does your wife know where you are now? Does she knows you are with me?” She asked, looking at me intensely. I averted my gaze. Cat was right, but her reasoning was wrong. I don’t like to tell (Y/N) much about my job because it’s not fair to put that burden on her. Not after we have been through. It’s not a matter of trust.
We got to the building and got out of the van. Cat took my arm as armed FBI agents escorted us—a show worth seeing, and I just wanted to forget.
Arriving at the apartment door, I took out my keys to open the lock, but before doing so, Cat stopped me.
“Did you mean it?”
“What?”
“That you love your wife?”
“Of course I do!” I replied, exasperated.
“Show me,” she demanded. But I didn’t understand what she was asking. My confusion was evident. “Show me how you love her. Kiss me the way you would kiss her,” Cat requested. My eyes widened.
“What? No! I will not do that.”
“You will. If you want to see your wife and that family alive again, you will,” she retorted.
I was about to lose my patience. In the last three hours, Cat had just made me go in circles. But I knew what she could do, and I was terrified that her threats would come true.
I took a deep breath before leaning to kiss her. I knew it was wrong, but I just wanted to end this night and find my wife and the missing family. Before my lips reached hers, Cat stopped me.
“I told you, Spencie. Do it like I’m her. Make it good. I will know if you are pretending,” she warned.
Fuck. What a twisted mind.
I gathered my composure, and I tried to imagine that it was (Y/N) in front of me and not Cat. I cupped her cheeks, the way I like to do with (Y/N), and leaned again. This time with no hesitation. It had to look real.
-
Reader's POV
I heard a commotion outside; I couldn't determine who was talking in the hallway. I froze in the spot, my eyes fixed on the entrance door. Then I noticed the handle turning and the door opening wide.
What I saw made my brain stop working.
Spencer was on the threshold kissing a woman.
Did I say kissing? Scratch that. He was devouring her mouth. And they were enjoying it, I could tell. She was the one who ended the kiss, and I swore I saw Spencer follow her lips for more. The woman turned to see me. Then Spencer noticed I was inside, witnessing how he- my husband - kissed a woman that wasn't me. His eyes widened, leaving his grasp on the woman's cheeks to walk to me.
“(Y/N)? What- what are you doing here? I thought you- that she has-" he stuttered.
I can't tell if it was for nerves, shock, or the fact he had been caught. It didn't matter, though. I was not in a condition to say anything. I just stood there, looking like a kicked puppy. I hated it.
“Fuck!” He cursed as if he had realized what was going on. The problem was I didn’t know anything, and my mind ran with the worst scenery possible.
"Ups," the girl teased. That's when I truly focused on her. I knew this woman. I'm sure I did. Then it hit me. Cat Adams? Seriously?
"What is this?" I barely articulated, shifting my gaze between Spencer and Cat.
"I - I thought she had kidnapped you! She did it with a family. I was so worried," Spencer explained, reaching to grab my hands, which I snatched away. I didn't feel like being touched by him, not after what I saw.
"I can tell you were worried," I spat. Cat started laughing.
"She has quite a sense of humor. I like her," Cat commented, looking between Spencer and me.
Oh, she was enjoying this. And my rational self told me it was better to shut up until I could understand what all about was, but my emotional side got to win this time.
"And you wanted me here for this? Your urgent case was about her? Jeez, Spencer, I thought you were done with this psycho," I pointed, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Oh, darling. You should know by now that Spencer is obsessed with me. How do you explain what you saw? He was kissing the same woman who got him in jail for three months. Maybe it's a kind of Stockholm, who knows," Cat taunted, shrugging like she was clueless. My eyes shot daggers at her. It was infuriating how her words echoed in my brain.
"(Y/N), don't listen to her. She is playing games right now. She wants you mad," Spencer tried to explain. And maybe he was right. But the smug look on her only fueled my anger. I didn't want to snap, though.
"Yeah, you can tell yourself that if it makes you happy," I deadpanned. Cat chuckled.
“Uh-oh. That sounds like jealousy to me.”
"Stop it! Cat, where is the family?" Spencer grabbed her arm suddenly. Her smug smile never faded.
"Easy, Spencie. What are you going to do? Throw me against a wall again?"
What? When did that happen?
Spencer's face went pale as his eyes met mine.
"Ouch. Someone didn't know that," Cat teased. I didn't know what face I had, but Spencer left the grip of Cat's arm and turned to me. "You should tell her, Spencie. She won't believe me if I do."
"You did what?" I asked in disbelief.
When Spencer was about to say something, Luke rushed inside.
"We got them!"
Them? What the fuck was happening?
"Now that's when we were having fun! Not fair!"
Cat pouted with dissatisfaction.
Spencer's eyes never left mine, pleading for me not to jump and hit him - or her.
"Take her out," he sternly told Luke, who rushed to do so.
"It was nice to meet you, (Y/N). Hope Spencer can tell you more of our story,” she taunted before crossing the threshold. Luke took the precaution of closing the door behind them, leaving with Cat and the other FBI field agents.
And just like that, we were alone with Spencer. Cat wasn't in the apartment anymore, but her words and presence remained heavy in the air.
Spencer’s hands were shaking, and they tried to reach mine again. I didn’t let him, though, as I stepped back.
It was all so confusing. And even if there were a logical explanation for this, the nerves and the anger were too much to try to understand.
“(Y/N), baby. I can explain. It was a trap. Cat orchestrated the whole thing, and I didn’t notice her real intentions until now. You have to believe me,” Spencer sputtered, faster than I had seen him speak in a long time. I shook my head.
“You called me. You told me we were in danger and asked me to come here, Spencer,” I tried to reason with him. He did this; why?
Spencer’s eyes widened.
“No, no, no. No! I did not. I don’t know how it happened, but I didn’t call you. It wasn’t me. I thought you were kidnapped! Cat told me if I didn’t do what she wanted, she would hurt you!”
I scoffed.
“How convenient that sounds, uh?”
Spencer sighed. He didn’t know what to say, and honestly, I didn’t have the energy to help him.
“(Y/N), please. You can ask the team. Penelope tried to track your location. I called your dad! It’s all a misunderstanding.”
I felt bad for Spencer. He looked exhausted, and he was likely telling the truth. But that wasn't enough to erase the image of my husband kissing Cat Adams. That qualifies as cheating, right?
I wanted to slap him across the face. Fucking Spencer Reid!
“A misunderstanding? Not a biggie, right?”
I hated feeling like this, but I couldn't help it. The more Spencer tried to explain, the more my blood boiled. Was I being unfair to him? Maybe. But after months of his work interfering in our lives, I was already fed up. This was the last straw.
"I didn't mean it like it wasn't important. Can we please talk about this more calmly at home?"
No, we can not, I wanted to say.
"Before your phone rings again and you must leave on another case?"
Shit, that just came out of my mouth.
“(Y/N)…” Spencer started to speak, but I cut him off. It wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have right now.
“You know what? I think it’s better we take a break for this night. I’m going to my dad’s. He must have been worried after I left,” I said, trying to contain my shaky voice. I grabbed my purse and walked to the door.
Spencer stared after me, pleading with his eyes for me not to leave. I decided to ignore it. I needed to think and cool my head. I believe this is the wake-up call I feared might happen. Maybe Cat Adams had opened another Pandora's box tonight.
something about spencer and reader kissing each other while “fighting” about something
A/N: I love when moments of anger become moments of passion so this was really fun to write!
Spencer Reid x fem! reader
Kiss and Make up
Spencer and Y/N, were having a heated argument in the hallways of the BAU. They were both passionate, dedicated agents, and they often found themselves at odds over the best way to approach a case.
This time, it was about a suspect's motive for a series of murders. Spencer thought the motive was rooted in the suspect's past trauma, while Y/N believed it was more about power and control.
"you're not seeing the whole picture," Spencer said, frustration evident in his voice. "This person's past is key to understanding their actions."
"No, Spencer," Y/N countered. "You're not considering the evidence. The power dynamics in their relationships is what's driving them."
They stood face to face, each one unwilling to give in. Suddenly, without either of them noticing, they leaned in closer until their faces were only inches apart. They both stopped talking, their eyes locked on each other.
Then, before either of them could react, they were kissing each other passionately, their argument forgotten in the heat of the moment. They wrapped their arms around each other, holding each other tight, their bodies moulded together in a perfect fit.
When they finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard, their faces warm with passion. They looked into each other's eyes, smiling sheepishly.
"I guess we found a way to resolve our differences," Y/N said, grinning.
Spencer laughed, feeling a warm happiness spread through him. "I guess we did," he said.
They walked back to their desks, their argument forgotten, and got back to work. But every once in a while, their eyes would meet and they would smile, remembering the heat of their kiss and the passion that drove them both.
I have been gone for some time but now I rise from the ashes like a phoenix. This invitation is to cordially invite you to my Valentine’s celebration happening on my page. I invite you to send blurb requests, moodboard ideas and whatever your heart desires.
This invitation is a coupon for one fic you have written to be turned into a moodboard
With lots of love, Vanessa 💕
Ps. Leah I love you like so so much and I’m finally back for what I think is for good so we need to catch up 💕💕
AHHH BESTIE YOURE BACK??????!?!? i’m so so so happy oh my god!!!! yes we do need a lot to catch up. i love you so much and you’d see me in your page all the time, thank you so much for the coupon!! and the mood board it’s so pretty oh mygod
We Could Try (Part 8): Stay With Me (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)
------------------
Author Masterlist / Clueless (prequel)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9
------------------
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
Summary: The team finds out where Turpin has Valerie and Reader. Will they get there on time?
Word Count: 4.6k
Warnings: Angst. Case's description. A hostage situation with blows, cuts, and blood is described. Hospital things and CM usual stuff. If I forgot something, let me know.
A/N: Here is another chapter, folks! The next one will be the last of this series. Thank you for your support so far. I love y'all!
------------------
'Spencer? Spencer! Stay with me!'
(Y/N) held Spencer's head as she put some pressure on his neck where the wound was located. Everything around them was a mess. Gunshots were coming and going, and (Y/N) only could focus on why, for God's sake, the paramedics couldn't reach them faster.
Spencer barely blinked and was trying to say something, but (Y/N) insisted on him not doing it.
'Stay with me. Just squeeze my hand. Don't talk; you need the oxygen.'
'I - I lo-' he mumbled but couldn't finish because he passed out. At that moment, (Y/N) freaked out. When she was about to crumble, the paramedics arrived and started to check on Spencer. Morgan held her tight from her middle section to separate from him so the paramedics could do their job.
Hotch didn't let her ride in the ambulance, but he drove them - (Y/N), Blake, and JJ - to the hospital.
The hours waiting for news about Spencer's condition were endless. (Y/N) paced from one corner to another, biting her nails. Her friend could die, and she couldn't do anything. Yeah, her 'friend.'
Seven years on the team, and (Y/N) still didn't confess her feelings for her coworker and friend. Maybe she has lost her chance. The thought was unbearable. (Y/N) swore that if Spencer made it, she would tell him everything.
When the doctor announced Spencer would fully recover, (Y/N) breathed again. Hotch - who always knew about (Y/N) and Spencer pinning for each other without them even knowing - instructed (Y/N) to stay with him as the rest of the team worked to wrap the case and catch the bastard shot Spencer.
She didn't leave his side for hours, grabbing his hand and squeezing it to convince herself he was alive and will be okay.
-
(Y/N)?! Can you hear me?
A frantic voice rang in (Y/N)'s ears. Spencer?
Recovering her senses, she realized the voice wasn't Spencer's. It was Valerie's.
That meant two things: she was still alive, and Valerie was still alive. However, the pain and numbness in various parts of her body told her she was not in the best condition. (Y/N) couldn't move her body, and it was hard for her to breathe. The son of a bitch had given her a good beating.
"(Y/N), please tell me something. Tell me anything," Valerie spoke again.
Valerie watched her breathe, but she didn't know for how long. There was terror in her voice. The fear that (Y/N) was dying.
"How long has it been since he left?" (Y/N) murmured. Valerie sighed, somewhat relieved when she heard her voice.
"Half an hour or so," she responded by watching intently as (Y/N) moved her body to regain some consciousness.
(Y/N) knew they didn't have much time left. She suspected the team knew everything by now, and they were trying to find Turpin's location. But it was unlikely that both could be saved at the same time. And given the conditions, Valerie had a better chance.
"I have to tell you something," she whispered to Valerie. "It's important," she added.
Valerie didn't know if she was going to like what she was going to hear.
-
"But in this case, significant to whom? Valerie or (Y/N)? Or both?" Rossi asked. They were discussing where Turpin could have (Y/N) and Valerie.
"Their paths never crossed before. I mean, until, well-"Luke trailed off, looking at Spencer.
"Until me. Yeah. I know," Spencer finished Luke's statement. The team members looked at each other knowingly, but Green didn't understand. He was about to ask when Prentiss interrupted.
"I hate to say this, but it has to do with (Y/N). She's the alpha here. She's a threat to Turpin. Not Valerie."
Spencer was aware that Emily might be right, which meant that possibly (Y/N) was having the worst time right now. He racked his head for somewhere in New York that might have meaning to (Y/N) and Turpin might know about.
"Some place she could have mentioned regarding her job in Boston and linked to New York?" JJ urged.
"I'm thinking! She barely has left the city if it was not to come to DC!" Spencer reacted, pacing in the room.
"There is no way he could know about her in DC. He knows her from the investigation the Boston department did," Emily concluded.
Something clicked on Spencer after Emily's words.
"She told me once she couldn't come to DC because of a seminar she needed to attend out of Boston. Four months ago," Spencer mentioned.
"Garcia, search for a seminar (Y/N) attended four months ago. Possibly in New York," Rossi instructed. They were holding their breath until Garcia spoke.
"Sorry folks, she was a speaker in a seminar four months ago, but it was in Filadelfia. There are no flights or bookings of her in New York until now."
"Shit," Rossi mumbled. Spencer shook his head.
"Wait. What was it about? What did she present?"
Garcia typed for a couple of seconds. Emily looked at Spencer, confused.
"Oh! You're a boy genius, indeed," Garcia chirped. "She presented two cases about serial killers on the loose—the killings of New Haven, Providence, and Boston. And! the killings in Astoria Park two years ago. In both, she consulted." she clarified.
"That's how he knew about her. Turpin knew she was working on the case," Tara commented.
"What about the Astoria Park case?" Spencer asked again.
"In the presentation, she mentioned both cases were highly important for her as an FBI agent, and she compelled the audience to not forget about them," Garcia explained.
"That's it. Turpin knew about that," Luke concluded.
They got everything they could about the Astoria Park cases, crossing references with recent traffic footage and cellphone triangulation. That is how they got an address—an abandoned building located on one corner of Astoria Park where the first victim was found.
"We got you, son of the bitch!" Rossi chimed as the team quickly prepared to go. They knew the time was ticking, and things could turn pretty messy after two days. Green also called the SWAT team to help with the takedown.
Spencer just hoped it wasn't too late and both (Y/N) and Valerie were okay. Bouncing his leg nervously, he could only think of everything he wanted to say to (Y/N).
-
Valerie's screams alerted Turpin that something was happening in the basement. Quickly he grabbed his gun and ran downs stairs. Valerie was yelling at the top of her lungs.
"You killed her! Son of the bitch!"
"What's wrong with you?!" Turpin urged, looking at Valerie for an explanation. Valerie was fully crying, shaking the chains that kept her tied up. Turpin's eyes widened. Turpin knew how badly he had beaten (Y/N), but she was alive when he left, and he thought she could endure a little more. He wasn't done with her yet.
(Y/N) was lying on the floor, in the same position where he had left her a while ago. He moved closer to take her pulse while Valerie continued to yell angrily. Turpin felt some pulse, but it was almost unnoticeable.
"Shut up! She is still alive. Don't be dramatic," Turpin said, moving closer to Valerie now, ready to hit her to stop her screaming. Valerie gulped, seeing him approaching but kept yelling at him.
"Don't lie! You killed her!"
"Enough!" Turpin demanded, hitting Valerie with the back of his hand. "If you don't shut up, I'll kill you first!" She yelped from the blow but turned her head quickly to spit on him.
"You coward!" Valerie yelled again. But when he was about to assert another blow on her, (Y/N) launched over Turpin, pushing him onto the floor. The gun he had, fell a few meters from them.
What happened next was just confusion. Turpin clearly didn't expect to be attacked, almost thinking (Y/N) lay dying on the floor. Now, (Y/N) barely had any strength, but she managed to land a couple of blows that disoriented him. Still, (Y/N) was at a disadvantage. Valerie was still tied up, and (Y/N) had no other weapon except for her own hands.
Instinctively Valerie struggled against her restraints, praying they would give so she could break free. Turpin managed to recover a bit and pushed (Y/N). He quickly went to grab the gun from the floor, but after so much forcing, Valerie managed to free one of her hands, enough to throw her low body onto the gun and kick it in the direction of (Y/N) before Turpin could reach it.
It was a matter of seconds between (Y/N) grabbing the gun and Turpin launching on her to get it back. Valerie watched in horror how they fought and how Turpin was about to take the weapon from (Y/N) 's hands.
-
The team arrived at the building, quickly descending from the SUVs as the police and SWAT cordoned off the area.
But before Green and Prentiss could settle any strategy, two shots were heard from the inside.
"Shit," Prentiss mumbled. Green took the lead and yelled to the SWAT team.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Then a bunch of SWAT rushed inside.
"No, no, no, no. (Y/N)!" Spencer shouted, ready to run to the entrance, gun in hand. JJ tried to stop him with her hands on his shoulders.
"Spence! We don't know yet what's going on," she reasoned.
"But (Y/N) is in there! I'm not staying here," Spencer broke free of JJ's grasp and kept running towards the shot source. His heart was beating fast and, in his mind, only one thought: 'she has to be okay; please let her be okay.'
When Spencer reached the basement, (Y/N) was on her knees, arms still holding the gun towards Turpin, who was on the floor, dead. Valerie was in a corner, her free arm covering her head.
(Y/N) looked frozen on the spot, her hands shaking.
"(Y/N), can you hear me?" Spencer asked cautiously, approaching and holstering his gun. "He's dead. Hey, look at me. It's over."
(Y/N) looked so far away. Her trembling hands didn't falter the grip of the gun, though. It was like being in alert mode but only focused on the threat, not the surroundings. Spencer knew so well that headspace, and it broke him to witness it on (Y/N).
"Yeah. It's me. Come on, give me the gun. It's over (Y/N)"
Spencer slowly approached in hopes of bringing her attention back. (Y/N) looked pale, although all the bruises and blood covered her face. It was like she was about to faint at any moment.
"She's severely injured! She needs a medic!" Valerie yelled at the same time (Y/N) left the gun's grasp and fell to the floor.
Spencer kneeled quickly to catch her before her head could touch the floor.
"Spencer-" she mumbled when their eyes met. Immediately he inspected her body, locating each wound at sight.
"It's okay; it's over. You did it. You caught him," Spencer reassured her.
"I - I didn't know. I'm so-" (Y/N) only could babble at this point. She felt so weak, and even if she didn't want to give up, her body was telling her otherwise.
"I know. I know. It's okay. You are safe now. I promise." But (Y/N) didn't react. She felt her eyes heavy and her body numb.
Tears started pooling from Spencer's eyes.
“(Y/N)? Look at me. Hey, stay with me!" Spencer shouted to catch her attention, but (Y/N) had her eyes shut now, her breathing uneven, and her pulse was barely there.
"We need a medic here!" Valerie kept bawling as a SWAT member untied her.
Two paramedics rushed over (Y/N) to control her vitals. Spencer didn't want to move from her side, but Prentiss, who had entered the basement a few seconds ago, pulled him to give the paramedics room to work.
"We need to move fast! We're losing pulse!" One of the guys checking on (Y/N) shouted as they maneuvered her into the stretcher.
Spencer wiggled to get free from Emily's grasp, but with Luke's help, he couldn't.
"Come on, man. We'll ride to the hospital. Let them do their job," Luke told Spencer.
Another paramedic and Tara were checking on Valerie, who was still shocked by the ordeal. It was hard to believe, and she was grateful for being alive, but she had a sharp feeling of guilt punching her stomach. She had never felt that way before.
-
Spencer hated hospitals. But truth be told, who could like a place like that? Not the BAU members, of course. Each one has had a non-grata experience with hospitals in their life.
Now it wasn't the exception.
Spencer was sitting in the waiting room with JJ, alert for any news about (Y/N) 's condition. Prentiss and Green were dealing with the scene in the basement with Luke and Matt's help. Tara and Rossi were talking to Valerie and getting her statement.
"It took us too long to realize it was him. We wasted too much time. We could have gotten there before he beat her like that," Spencer lamented, his body leaning forward, with his hands holding his head and eyes on the floor.
"Spence, don't do that. You need to focus on her recovery. What it's done, it's done," JJ squeezed his elbow. She wanted to get him out of those guilty thoughts, but Spencer wasn't getting the memo.
"I'm scared, JJ. I'm so fucking scared," he paused to control the urge to cry. "I can't imagine what would be my life if she- if she- God. Not like this, please," he sniffled. JJ hugged him, and Spencer let himself cry in her arms.
"I - I have been so selfish, JJ. I didn't see through and accused her of the same thing I did to her in the past. I'm so stupid." Spencer needed to spill it out. JJ tightened their embrace, but Spencer wasn't done talking yet.
"Time. How absurd that sounds now, uh? I thought time would be enough to fix what I did to her. Now time is escaping through my fingers."
He felt powerless and so afraid. All doubts and mixed feelings he could have before no longer mattered. The love of his life was fighting to stay alive, and Spencer couldn't do anything to help her.
It wasn't entirely clear how much time had passed, but it seemed endless in that waiting room.
Spencer didn't want to move from there until he could have some news. The team showed up a couple of times to check for information too. They were visibly worried but tried to keep their spirit high to prevent Spencer from crumbling.
It was almost night when a doctor came to give an update. Spencer was keeping company with Prentiss at that moment.
"Agent (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?" The doctor asked. Emily and Spencer stood at the same time.
"I'm her unit chief Emily Prentiss, and he is agent (Y/L/N) 's boyfriend, doctor Spencer Reid. How's she?" Emily asked. The doctor nodded.
"I'm doctor Roland. I performed the surgery on the agent (Y/L/N). She came in really bad condition and even flatlined a couple of times. But we were able to stabilize her. Her condition is still critical, though. We need to monitor the next few hours. If she can make it through the night, we have good chances."
Emily and Spencer nodded. They understood what that meant. Spencer asked if he could see her, and doctor Roland agreed. Emily knew Spencer wouldn't leave (Y/N) 's side, so she requested updates and promised to come back with some clothes for him.
(Y/N) lay there, several machines controlling her vitals. She had bandages on her head and arms. Spencer suspected the rest of her body was in a similar condition. Her face showed dark bruises and red marks from the dried blood.
"Hey, love. The doctor said I could stay here with you tonight. Is that okay? I hope it does," Spencer mumbled, approaching the bed. His hands were shaking.
He kept there, contemplating her- watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. Confirmation that she was still there.
Spencer felt a lump in his throat from fear and the stuck words he hadn't been able to get out in months.
As the distance grew between them, Spencer could tell that something was wrong, but he didn't think (Y/N) 's doubts were still hunting them closely, and he was to blame for that.
"I know you're still mad at me. I'm so sorry. But I promise I didn't want to hurt you. I love you too much to ever think of doing it. I mean, I know I did back then. And I hated myself for that. I still do."
Adrian's words echoed in Spencer's head: (Y/N) had left DC because of him, because of his poor decisions and the foolish idea that by pushing (Y/N) away, he could protect her from himself. That seemed so stupid now when she was lying in that hospital bed.
"You know? My therapist told me I needed to consider what I wanted for our relationship. That I already made all the amends I had to, but all possible amendments still seem so insignificant compared to the pain I caused you."
His shaky, scratchy voice was evidence of the tears he had shed in the last few hours. Spencer cleared his throat to keep talking, hoping that maybe (Y/N) could hear him.
"You said that you didn't trust me enough yet. And I understand. I thought time would be enough to get that trust back, but I didn't notice you weren't ready. And I pushed it. Selfishly I pushed it."
His hands held one of hers. Despite the hospital's cold, Spencer could feel the warmth of her touch. Gently stroking her hand, he wanted to feel closer to her.
"I promise not to do it again. But please, come back to me, my love. Stay with me. Please," Spencer begged with tears pricking the corner of his eyes.
Spencer truly hoped that (Y/N) could hear him in some capacity - that he could convince her to keep fighting.
-
After being discharged, Valerie asked a nurse about (Y/N) 's condition, and the nurse told her what room (Y/N) was in.
Valerie peeked through the door and saw Spencer in a chair, an arm stretched, holding (Y/N) 's hand. It was nearly midnight by now; maybe not a good time to show up, but she was already there.
"Hey. Sorry for bothering you," Valerie apologized, peaking Spencer's attention. He turned to look at her, giving a slight nod.
"Hi. How are you feeling?" Spencer asked, seeing the bandages she sported and the cast holding her right arm.
"I'm okay. Just a sprain and a couple of bruises and cuts. How's (Y/N) doing?" Valerie hastened to ask, stepping inside the room.
"She hasn't woken up yet. The doctor says if she can make it through the night, she has better chances," Spencer informed.
Valerie could see all the distress written on Spencer's face. It was painful for anyone could see.
"I'm sure she is fighting. She'll make it," Valerie said, eyeing the girl in the hospital bed. Spencer frowned as he stood to grab a cup of water from the side table.
"You don't have to be kind, Valerie. You don't even need to be here. You can go home," Spencer said before sipping from the cup. Valerie nodded.
"I know, but that woman saved my life. Kind is the least I can be," she stated. Spencer squinted his eyes at her. Was she being honest, or was it another Valerie's thing before coming up with an ominous remark?
"Yeah. It's not something I like to say, but I owe (Y/N)," Valerie continued. She knew Spencer didn't believe her and didn't blame him. "Ironic, uh? I mean, after the things between us and how 'highly' I spoke about her in the past," Valerie sighed at Spencer's frown. "Spencer, I'm not proud of what I did. And you don't have to believe me at all, but it's true."
Spencer blinked a couple of times, trying to think what to say. He was tired, and the last he wanted was to deal with Valerie and that story. It was too much already.
"I don't want to be rude, but it doesn't matter if I believe you," Spencer said, shooking his head.
"Understandable. I just wanted you to know something, though. She asked me to tell you something, actually." Valerie said, flicking her gaze between (Y/N) and Spencer.
"She did what?" Spencer asked in disbelief.
"After she told me about her plan to get us out of there - well, get me out of there because she was sure she wouldn't make it - (Y/N) made me promise I would tell you how sorry she was. About pushing you away. About doubting of you," Valerie recounted.
"(Y/N) told you that?"
Valerie nodded.
"Yeah. Honestly? I don't think she stopped thinking about you all the time we were there. I heard her mumbling your name a few times."
That wasn't the only thing Valerie wanted to say, though. Since the basement ordeal, she kept thinking about her shared past with (Y/N) and Spencer. Things looked so different now.
People say when you face a near-to-dead experience, you start to question your past decisions and actions. It happened to Valerie, and the summary she got didn't make her feel better.
"I made a mess in your relationship. I know that. It doesn't matter why I did it, but I did it. And the extent of my doing? It doesn't make me proud."
Spencer scoffed. It was nearly unbelievable to him to see Valerie taking the blame he had in the first place.
He did it. He hurt (Y/N). Valerie was involved in his poor decisions, but it was all his doing.
"Well, I guess we are two feeling the same," Spencer muttered, shifting his weight from one foot to another. His finger played unconsciously with the styrofoam cup.
"You know? I can stop thinking about the night she asserted her fist on my nose. It was true I provoked her. You already know that. What you don't know is what I said to her," Valerie prefaced, toying with the cast strap. Spencer sighed, remembering that night.
"That we were sleeping together before she broke up with me? I already know that. And you knew it was a lie," he said curtly.
"Yeah, that too. But that wasn't all." Spencer quirked an eyebrow. He always wanted (Y/N) could tell him about that night, but she always refused, telling him it was not worth even mentioning. He never pressured her into that again.
Valerie told him everything that happened. This time, all facts, no lies. She recounted that (Y/N) was worried about him. She said that she told (Y/N) to stay away. And most importantly, how insignificant she made (Y/N) feel, telling her she wasn't enough for Spencer and people only pitied her—telling her that she was weak for not fighting for him.
"I hit a nerve. It was clear I did."
Now things made more sense to Spencer, especially what (Y/N) told him in the precinct days ago: 'It's not on you, Spencer. It's - it's on me.' She was insecure, not because Spencer did something this time; it was the fear of that night. The suspicion that Valerie could have been right.
"You told her that?! Valerie, what the fuck?" he asked, exasperated. Valerie couldn't say she was surprised by his reaction.
"I wanted to hurt her. Of course I was going to use that. Again, I'm not proud," she admitted, twitching her nose uncomfortably.
"Why are you telling me this, anyway?" Spencer folded his arms over his chest. Valerie shrugged. She wasn't sure why either.
"I guess it's because I'm being selfish. I needed to let it out. And you needed to know. (Y/N) was right. I didn't love you the way you deserved. But she did, and she does. Seeing you two these past few days made me realize that (Y/N) is your match in so many ways. That commitment to others and dedication? It's what your jobs mean to you." Spencer looked confused. Valerie continued. "You belong here, Spencer. I thought you didn't, but I was wrong. You are made to be a profiler and to work in the BAU. And most importantly, you belong to her. You deserve her, and she deserves you. And I know you don't give a shit what I think or say, but it's true. I think you should know."
"Does it matter if it's possible that she never could make it?" he asked bitterly. Valerie pursed her lips in a tight line.
"It matters because you will have the chance to be together again. And it matters because you need to ensure she doesn't doubt her worth again. No matter if a woman like me tries to get her nerve."
It was the first thing Valerie had said that Spencer was willing to take as advice in a long time. Perhaps it was the certainty with which she said
he and (Y/N) would have the chance to be together again. Or maybe because now things made sense, and Spencer was determined to prove to (Y/N) that his heart could never belong to another person.
Spencer sat in the chair to stare at (Y/N) without saying a word to Valerie. What could he say? Valerie took that as her cue to leave the room in silence. And so she did.
This time would be the last Spencer would see Valerie Smith in his life.
-
When Spencer opened his eyes, he saw (Y/N)'s head resting on the mattress and felt her hand holding his. Life was giving him a new opportunity, and he wouldn't waste another minute without saying what it was stuck in his chest for years now.
'I love you,' he rasped. It was almost a whisper but enough to wake up (Y/N). She didn't register the words he said, just for the emotion of seeing him awake.
'Oh God, Spencer. I was so scared. I thought you-' She stopped her rant when it hit her. 'What?' Spencer's eyes were filled with adoration, the way he always looked at (Y/N).
'I love you, (Y/N). I have been in love with you for ages.' he paused to take a breath. He still felt weak after the surgery. 'And I'm sorry I didn't say anything before and for doing it now,' he took another pause. 'And I know that you don't feel the same, but I can't die and not tell you how I feel. I'm sorry.'
(Y/N)' s eyes widened. Was Spencer in love with her? It was a huge irony and a relief at the same time. She brought Spencer's hand to her lips and planted a loving kiss on it. Spencer looked at her oddly.
'Well, it happens that you beat me this time, doctor Reid. I was about to confess my utter love for you right now,' she chuckled, happy tears running down her cheeks.
'Really?' Spencer thought he might be dreaming or hallucinating after the surgery. (Y/N) nodded.
'Yeah. I guess we have been blind all these years.'
Spencer beamed. It was really happening.
'God, I love you. Please, let me take you out on a date.'
'As soon as you get out of here.'
Spencer smiled at the memory. He only hoped to get that chance again.
summary: Spencer has to go undercover in a women’s prison after he came out of jail.
warnings: violence, mentions of blood, dead bodies, prisons, knives. typical criminal minds violence.
couple: post!prison reid x fem!reader
taglist: @ssavanessa22, @all-tings-gubler, @cance1medaddy, @doctorspenceryeet, @matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @nomajdetective, @reidselle, @louderfortheback, @hey-dw (if you wanna be add or removed let me know)
Prison had been a hard thing for Spencer Reid, not only because he was away from his friends, his family and his lover, but because of the things he had to face whilst being there.
Spencer Reid hasn't had an easy life, neither it was easy when he was a child, it was hurtful. How could a child suffer so much?
One of the things he remembers clearly was when he was bullied, when he was watched by all those people while he was naked, tied, and scared.
“How can children be so mean?” Spencer recalls his wife telling him, with tears running down her eyes. It hurt her to see how hard life has been for the poor doctor Reid,- and life hasn't gotten any easier-,
He could run statistics about it. Maybe the lack of attention and love the children faced, and they had to feel powerful in some way. But it wasn't fair, he was just a child as well. He had to face things, too. But he was never out there bullying other people.
Prison was something that had a big impact on him, mostly because while he was held back and beaten, he remembered that little Reid, being beaten by his bullies too. Scared, and hoping his mom would go and save him, to take care of him. But at the end of the day, he had to take care of her instead. It wasn't fair, for neither of them,
People sometimes compare high school with prison, when the kids were being dramatic, but it wasn't far away from the truth. At least not for him.
In the end, in prison ,-and life-, anyone could hold you back and beat you. Spencer knew that. They could say things about you. Sometimes high school bullies never grow out of it, they never change.
“Spencer?” He heard a voice, and he snapped out of his thoughts. He looked around, everyone was looking at him concerned.
“I'm sorry, uh what were you saying?”
Emily sighed deeply, she didn't want to do this, but she had to, “As i was saying. There is a potential lead,” she explained, trying to read Spencer's body language. Her eyes scan the doctor's hands, arms, the way he was breathing trying to see any sign. But they never noticed the most obvious one. Of course he needed help, he was begging for it, but they never noticed, way too busy trying to see his microexpressions. Ironic, “W-We know this might not be easy, and of course you can say no, but youre the most experienced in this.”
He needed to go undercover to a women's prison. One of their latest cases is based on a killer murdering the inmates. He needed to go undercover as a guard. How ironic. There was a time where he was on the other side of that cell.
He didn't want to go there, of course he didn't. He didn't want to step in a prison another time in his life, but of course, the team depended on him. He knew how prisons work, not only because he was in one once, but because they could use his brain. He didn't want to do it, but he sighed deeply and nodded gently, “I'll do it.”
…
“You have to do what now?” his wife said, “How can they do this to you-”
He grabbed her waist pulling her closer, in between his legs while he sat at the edge of their bed. He felt the soft material of the lavender purple cardigan she was wearing, his favorite and of course, was stolen from his side of the closet, but he couldn't care less when she looked that pretty. He kissed her belly, feeling the fabric itching against his mouth and he pressed the side of his face on her stomach, hearing the sounds this one made that always made him smile.
She sighed, defeated, and decided to play with his curly hair which made him sigh in satisfaction, “They didn't make me do anything, angel, I was the one who offered,” he lied.
“Then you shouldn't offer!” she complained with a high pitched voice. He smiled, lifting his head to look at her beautiful eyes. She looked down at his own hazel ones, her eyes soft, but sad, she was sad.
“It's gonna be okay, I promise. I get to save lives,” he spoke, making her sit on his knee while he kissed her temple, one, two, three times.
“It's not fair, Spence,” she cried softly, her voice almost breaking. Spencer frowned at that. Little tears threatened to spill out of her eyes, glistening slowly. Spencer knew prison was hard for him, but it was also for her. He knew she suffered while he was locked away, knowing he didn't have the comfort of their home, of her arms.
“Hey,” he cooed, “I promise I'm gonna be okay. It's only gonna be for a couple of days, bunny,” he spoke gently, cupping the side of her face turning it so he could see her better.
She bit her lip, trying not to cry. He knew she felt guilty for being the one crying and not him, but right there he couldn't love her more, “I just don't want you to go back there,” she confessed.
To be honest, neither did he, “I know, baby, but I promise it'll be okay mmh?”
She nodded, “I'm sorry I know that–”
“Shh, dont apologize. Hug me, yes? That's all I ask.”
She nodded, without complaints. He put his legs together, helping her accommodate in his lap with his hand on her waist, and when she was ready, she threw her arms around his neck, placing her chin on his shoulder. He smelt deliciously, so she sighed trying to take it all in, and he smiled knowing what she was doing.
He wrapped his arms around her, hiding his face in her shoulder. He didn't know if he was comforting her, or he was the one being comforted, but it felt amazing.
Having her that close to him, smelling her hair, the shampoo she always used lingering on her, -and he secretly stealing some from her, wanting to smell like her-, lingering in his curly hair as well. He was enamored, to say the least, and he was proud of it. No shame in telling it to the world, so he whispered, “I love you,” in her ear.
…
The day had finally come. He was about to enter, once more, those four walls that haunted his dream. It wasn't the same prison, of course not. This was a women only prison, but flashbacks couldn't hold themselves in.
His wife noticed, squeezing his hand, “It's okay love-” she encouraged, but Spencer cut her.
“The ninety-three point one percent of the inmates are male, and only the six point nine are women,” he stated. She frowned, “A-And the a majority of women are in prison due drug or property offense meanwhile men are the ones who commit mostly the hard crimes such as convicted sex offenders-”
She lifted her hand that was intertwined with his, pressing her lips softly in his cold skin. He looked at her, and smiled softly, “Sorry-”
She shocked her head, and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his neck. He felt a whimper trying to escape from his lips, but he held it in, hugging her back. They were not too fond of PDA, knowing the team was probably watching them from afar as they waited for Spencer to go in, but she didn't care, and at that moment neither did he. She rubbed his back, “You're gonna do great. I believe in you,” he nodded. He believed her, but he couldn't help but chuckle.
“Says the woman who told me not to yesterday,” she rolled her eyes playfully.
“We're different from yesterday,” she smiled, pulling away and cupping his cheeks.
They stared at each other's eyes, they didn't need to speak. They knew what the other had to say.
Penelope squeaked from afar, “They're so cute!”
Luke chuckled, rolling his eyes to see the couple . But he agreed, they looked cute indeed.
Spencer smiled, knowing he had to go in. He pecked her lips quickly, and this time, Penelope's squeaked louder made them chuckle, “You're gonna do great,” she said. And he nodded, kissing her hand and walking towards the entrance where some other FBI guys were waiting to sneak him in, he didn't let go of her hand until he couldn't keep holding it. He sighed, deeply.
“Ready, doctor?” They asked.
No, of course not. But he couldn’t do any more than nod.
…
A week has passed, and Spencer had some suspects, informing the team about everything. There were yet another two bodies after he went undercover. All the same, blonde girls with blue eyes. The killer's signature; Leaving them without clothes in a pool of blood. He informed the team while they spoke about what it could mean, but he wasn’t paying too much attention.
He was overwhelmed while being there, to be honest. Spencer knew women's prison was more disciplined and less violent than men, there weren't as many fights as there were when he was in there, the inmates were not as violent, but it reminded him of the times he was there. Some of the girls were nice, spoke to him about why they were there, he created bonds, which helped create the profile of the person they were looking for.
He met a woman about five-six years older than him that was incarcerated unfairly, or so she said. He quickly and unconsciously created a bond with her, trying to see if he could help her. And he heard rumors about her lying and actually committing crimes. She never said why she was unfairly placed there, always changing the conversation. The inmates and guards talked about it, but Spencer decided not to believe them, because no one believed in him.
When he made his way to Joseline’s cell, to go and pay her their weekly visit, Spencer couldn't believe what his eyes saw. He gasped, quietly and drew his gun, carefully.
There it was, laying on the floor with a pool of water surrounding her body while Joseline sat on top of her, knife in hand, watching her slowly die. One of the girls he spoke with last week, one of the ones he created a bond with.
“Joseline?” He spoke quietly.
The woman looked at Spencer quickly, and he saw the shift in her eyes. She was scared, “I found her here, Spencer. I promise it didn't do anything,” she cried out loud, “You don't believe I did it, do you Spencer?”
Spencer shook his head slowly, “Of course not, Joseline. I know you're not like this…”
The black haired woman stood up from the body, and grabbed the knife with force, pointing it to Spencer, “Then why are you holding your gun like that?”
“Because the killer is on the loose, Joseline. And we have to make sure they don’t hurt you,” he said, trying to step forward to her, “Come on, give me the knife and we'll solve this.”
She shook her head, “No, you know why?” Spencer shook his head, “I know you know I did it. I can see it in your eyes,” she chuckled, “And, I have my reasons. I am here unfairly. I shouldn't be here! So I decided to give them a reason to put me in this hell.”
Spencer sighed, he understood her, “Listen. I-I was in jail, not long ago. And I was accused unfairly, as well. Just like you,” Spencer put his gun down, slowly, and lifted his arm so she could see them, “But this is not the right way. I know you feel so much rage. I know how you feel because I've been there, but this is not the way.”
She looked at him, trying to cipher if he was telling the truth; If she should trust him, “I had a husband, and he cheated on me with girls like her,” she pointed to the floor where the girl laid lifeless, “That's why I'm here, because he didn't want me to interfere with his new lover. He told the police things that weren't true. I shouldn't be here, Spencer!” she cried out.
His heart ached for her, “I know that. I can help you, you just have to come with me…”
…
Spencer sighed, while he looked around. The case was over. Joseline was transferred somewhere else.
The team congratulated him for finishing the case so quickly, for doing such a good job. But he didn't feel proud, or victorious. All the way around.
He was avoiding coming home. He let his wife know that they finished the case, and he was heading home. Thirty minutes ago, meanwhile he was still on his desk at the bullpen, playing chess with himself.
He knew he needed her, he knew that he wanted to be in her arms. But, did he deserve it?
Was it bad he connected, and understood so much a serial killer? Was it okay to feel some sort of sympathy for her?
Spencer was hurt by her story of her husband. About why she did what she did, because of him. Maybe if he hadn’t done that.
Maybe if he didn't put her in prison and cheated on her.
Maybe she'd have a different life.
Maybe she would've been a good person.
Spencer sighed one more time.
It wasn't healthy, and it wasn't fair for his wife to push her away when she had been there with him all along. He needed to come home to her.
He stood up, took every little piece of the chess and put it inside the box, taking his time, and grabbed his coat and satchel walking towards the exit.
He got into his car, and played some music he knew she hears. He needed her in any shape or form. He swore he could hear her next to him singing to the lyrics. He needed to clear his thoughts before he got home because she didn't deserve it. She was probably way too worried for him to make her worry once more. He needed to get his shit together, for her.
Spencer didn't even realize when he was already parking in front of their shared home. The lights were on, and he sighed. He knew he wasn't in that prison anymore, he knew he had escaped, but he might have been free from the four walls, but the four walls stayed in his mind, and incarcerated him there. Playing and reminding him of things he had done, things he had suffered, thoughts that had crossed his mind.
He stayed in his car, holding the wheel for a few minutes before he took the courage to get out of the vehicle while he grabbed his stuff.
He slowly walked in, looking for his keys in the pockets of his pants, and putting it in the lock slowly, but before he could turn his wrist to open the door, he saw her.
The love of his life had opened the door, with a soft smile and excited eyes to see him. Spencer couldn't help but smile back, genuinely. He prepared himself to give her a fake smile, but he couldn't fake it while he was with her.
He saw down her body, she was wearing her pajamas with one of his cardigans on her, this time a small red one. He remembered that cardigan fit him perfectly before, but after he met her, and she made sure to feed the doctor with delicious homemade meals, his belly grew and the cardigan was a reminder of their love, somehow.
“Hi my love,” she spoke with a soft voice. Spencer smiled for three seconds before a pout grew in his lips and tears made their way down on his cheeks, “Oh baby,” she spoke. Quickly pulling him inside the comfort and warmth of their house, taking the stuff out of his hands and putting them somewhere else, some of them knocking the floor but all she cared about was him.
She, then, hurriedly wrapped her arms around Spencers neck, while he sobbed and whimpered into her neck, “I don't wanna come back there,” he said, through a sob.
The girl made sure to rub his back and kissed his cheek, “You won't, my love, I promise you won't. I won't allow it,” she comforted.
He sniffed, pulling slightly away from her, “The unsub. I-I connected with her, i-i felt sympathy and understood why she was killing, Angel.”
She cupped his face, “It's okay, that doesn't make you a bad person. Sometimes it's difficult not to feel some sort of sympathy when the story of why they did what they did touches your heart. That doesn't mean you support, defend or justify their actions. That only proves you're human. And it is your job to understand them, baby. That's why, because you put yourself in their shoes, that makes you great at what you do,” she said.
He nodded, taking in her words, “I don't wanna be close to prison like that again. The memories, the flashbacks, they're still here,” he lifted his index finger to make contact with his head, showing what he meant.
Spencer's wife nodded, “I know they are my love. And it will be hard for them to leave, and maybe they will never leave but that's okay because with time they will hurt less,” she softly spoke. Putting his head slightly down to kiss his temples, and forehead, her lips taking their time to part away from this part of his body.
He looked at her, there it was. With worried eyes but full of love, how could he ever run away from someone like her? No, from her specifically. The love his heart held for her was stronger than any other feeling he had felt in the past. The way she quickly made sure he was alright, without judgment, comforting him. He was in love with her, and he wanted to cry at the thought of it. The sentiment was so strong that it ached his heart in such a delicious addictive way, it was the only kind of “pain” he wanted to feel for the rest of his life.
He took in a deep,-deep as the love he felt for her-, sigh, and nodded once more at her words, “I love you,” he let out.
He saw her face shift, confusion taking place, but she smiled whatsoever, “I love you, my love,” she took his hand, and kissed softly, “Tell me what you wanna do? Could I run a bath for you? Do you want to eat or maybe-”
“I wanna go to bed. I want you to hold me,” he admitted. It had been a long journey after he was able to tell his needs.
She nodded with a smile, “Of course, let's go.”
She carefully walked in front of him, with their hands linked, guiding him to their shared bedroom. She opened the door, and pointed to the bed. He nodded, knowing what she wanted. He let go of her hand, feeling cold all of the sudden and sat on the edge of the mattress as he watched her walk to their closet.
Spencer's wife focused on picking up some comfortable clothes for him and decided for one pajama set, one of his favorites.
She smiled making her way back to him, and standing in between his legs, she quickly pressed a kiss on his forehead while taking his tie off, she placed another kiss on his eyes, nose and lips while she unbuttoned his shirt. She let it fall from his shoulder and got it off from his arms, “Arms up, my love,” she gently ordered and he obeyed, while lifting his arms that now felt heavy. The love of his life quickly placed the shirt down his body, and he relaxed his arms, then her hands lowered to his belt but he shook his head.
“I wanna do it,” he smiled, and she nodded, giving him the pajama bottom.
He watched her go to the drawer and get some socks out, mismatched for him. He smiled, feeling cared and loved, he took the socks from her hands after putting his pants that felt nice on his skin. Feeling more and more relaxed, and more at home. He put his socks on, and sat further back until his back hit the pillows.
His wife looked at him with eyes of adoration while he waited for her to join him, she quickly made her way next to him, and laid down onto her side, Spencer quickly taking his place on top of her chest, and hugging her waist, grabbing one of her hands to play with his hair, which she chuckled, and obeyed, slowly scratching his scalp, he felt the exhaustion on his eyes and his body relaxed, “You're at home. You're okay, you can sleep my love,” she whispered.
He whispered, to his world, one more time, “I love you.”
summary: Spencer has to go undercover in a women’s prison after he came out of jail.
warnings: violence, mentions of blood, dead bodies, prisons, knives. typical criminal minds violence.
couple: post!prison reid x fem!reader
taglist: @ssavanessa22, @all-tings-gubler, @cance1medaddy, @doctorspenceryeet, @matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @nomajdetective, @reidselle, @louderfortheback, @hey-dw (if you wanna be add or removed let me know)
Prison had been a hard thing for Spencer Reid, not only because he was away from his friends, his family and his lover, but because of the things he had to face whilst being there.
Spencer Reid hasn't had an easy life, neither it was easy when he was a child, it was hurtful. How could a child suffer so much?
One of the things he remembers clearly was when he was bullied, when he was watched by all those people while he was naked, tied, and scared.
“How can children be so mean?” Spencer recalls his wife telling him, with tears running down her eyes. It hurt her to see how hard life has been for the poor doctor Reid,- and life hasn't gotten any easier-,
He could run statistics about it. Maybe the lack of attention and love the children faced, and they had to feel powerful in some way. But it wasn't fair, he was just a child as well. He had to face things, too. But he was never out there bullying other people.
Prison was something that had a big impact on him, mostly because while he was held back and beaten, he remembered that little Reid, being beaten by his bullies too. Scared, and hoping his mom would go and save him, to take care of him. But at the end of the day, he had to take care of her instead. It wasn't fair, for neither of them,
People sometimes compare high school with prison, when the kids were being dramatic, but it wasn't far away from the truth. At least not for him.
In the end, in prison ,-and life-, anyone could hold you back and beat you. Spencer knew that. They could say things about you. Sometimes high school bullies never grow out of it, they never change.
“Spencer?” He heard a voice, and he snapped out of his thoughts. He looked around, everyone was looking at him concerned.
“I'm sorry, uh what were you saying?”
Emily sighed deeply, she didn't want to do this, but she had to, “As i was saying. There is a potential lead,” she explained, trying to read Spencer's body language. Her eyes scan the doctor's hands, arms, the way he was breathing trying to see any sign. But they never noticed the most obvious one. Of course he needed help, he was begging for it, but they never noticed, way too busy trying to see his microexpressions. Ironic, “W-We know this might not be easy, and of course you can say no, but youre the most experienced in this.”
He needed to go undercover to a women's prison. One of their latest cases is based on a killer murdering the inmates. He needed to go undercover as a guard. How ironic. There was a time where he was on the other side of that cell.
He didn't want to go there, of course he didn't. He didn't want to step in a prison another time in his life, but of course, the team depended on him. He knew how prisons work, not only because he was in one once, but because they could use his brain. He didn't want to do it, but he sighed deeply and nodded gently, “I'll do it.”
…
“You have to do what now?” his wife said, “How can they do this to you-”
He grabbed her waist pulling her closer, in between his legs while he sat at the edge of their bed. He felt the soft material of the lavender purple cardigan she was wearing, his favorite and of course, was stolen from his side of the closet, but he couldn't care less when she looked that pretty. He kissed her belly, feeling the fabric itching against his mouth and he pressed the side of his face on her stomach, hearing the sounds this one made that always made him smile.
She sighed, defeated, and decided to play with his curly hair which made him sigh in satisfaction, “They didn't make me do anything, angel, I was the one who offered,” he lied.
“Then you shouldn't offer!” she complained with a high pitched voice. He smiled, lifting his head to look at her beautiful eyes. She looked down at his own hazel ones, her eyes soft, but sad, she was sad.
“It's gonna be okay, I promise. I get to save lives,” he spoke, making her sit on his knee while he kissed her temple, one, two, three times.
“It's not fair, Spence,” she cried softly, her voice almost breaking. Spencer frowned at that. Little tears threatened to spill out of her eyes, glistening slowly. Spencer knew prison was hard for him, but it was also for her. He knew she suffered while he was locked away, knowing he didn't have the comfort of their home, of her arms.
“Hey,” he cooed, “I promise I'm gonna be okay. It's only gonna be for a couple of days, bunny,” he spoke gently, cupping the side of her face turning it so he could see her better.
She bit her lip, trying not to cry. He knew she felt guilty for being the one crying and not him, but right there he couldn't love her more, “I just don't want you to go back there,” she confessed.
To be honest, neither did he, “I know, baby, but I promise it'll be okay mmh?”
She nodded, “I'm sorry I know that–”
“Shh, dont apologize. Hug me, yes? That's all I ask.”
She nodded, without complaints. He put his legs together, helping her accommodate in his lap with his hand on her waist, and when she was ready, she threw her arms around his neck, placing her chin on his shoulder. He smelt deliciously, so she sighed trying to take it all in, and he smiled knowing what she was doing.
He wrapped his arms around her, hiding his face in her shoulder. He didn't know if he was comforting her, or he was the one being comforted, but it felt amazing.
Having her that close to him, smelling her hair, the shampoo she always used lingering on her, -and he secretly stealing some from her, wanting to smell like her-, lingering in his curly hair as well. He was enamored, to say the least, and he was proud of it. No shame in telling it to the world, so he whispered, “I love you,” in her ear.
…
The day had finally come. He was about to enter, once more, those four walls that haunted his dream. It wasn't the same prison, of course not. This was a women only prison, but flashbacks couldn't hold themselves in.
His wife noticed, squeezing his hand, “It's okay love-” she encouraged, but Spencer cut her.
“The ninety-three point one percent of the inmates are male, and only the six point nine are women,” he stated. She frowned, “A-And the a majority of women are in prison due drug or property offense meanwhile men are the ones who commit mostly the hard crimes such as convicted sex offenders-”
She lifted her hand that was intertwined with his, pressing her lips softly in his cold skin. He looked at her, and smiled softly, “Sorry-”
She shocked her head, and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his neck. He felt a whimper trying to escape from his lips, but he held it in, hugging her back. They were not too fond of PDA, knowing the team was probably watching them from afar as they waited for Spencer to go in, but she didn't care, and at that moment neither did he. She rubbed his back, “You're gonna do great. I believe in you,” he nodded. He believed her, but he couldn't help but chuckle.
“Says the woman who told me not to yesterday,” she rolled her eyes playfully.
“We're different from yesterday,” she smiled, pulling away and cupping his cheeks.
They stared at each other's eyes, they didn't need to speak. They knew what the other had to say.
Penelope squeaked from afar, “They're so cute!”
Luke chuckled, rolling his eyes to see the couple . But he agreed, they looked cute indeed.
Spencer smiled, knowing he had to go in. He pecked her lips quickly, and this time, Penelope's squeaked louder made them chuckle, “You're gonna do great,” she said. And he nodded, kissing her hand and walking towards the entrance where some other FBI guys were waiting to sneak him in, he didn't let go of her hand until he couldn't keep holding it. He sighed, deeply.
“Ready, doctor?” They asked.
No, of course not. But he couldn’t do any more than nod.
…
A week has passed, and Spencer had some suspects, informing the team about everything. There were yet another two bodies after he went undercover. All the same, blonde girls with blue eyes. The killer's signature; Leaving them without clothes in a pool of blood. He informed the team while they spoke about what it could mean, but he wasn’t paying too much attention.
He was overwhelmed while being there, to be honest. Spencer knew women's prison was more disciplined and less violent than men, there weren't as many fights as there were when he was in there, the inmates were not as violent, but it reminded him of the times he was there. Some of the girls were nice, spoke to him about why they were there, he created bonds, which helped create the profile of the person they were looking for.
He met a woman about five-six years older than him that was incarcerated unfairly, or so she said. He quickly and unconsciously created a bond with her, trying to see if he could help her. And he heard rumors about her lying and actually committing crimes. She never said why she was unfairly placed there, always changing the conversation. The inmates and guards talked about it, but Spencer decided not to believe them, because no one believed in him.
When he made his way to Joseline’s cell, to go and pay her their weekly visit, Spencer couldn't believe what his eyes saw. He gasped, quietly and drew his gun, carefully.
There it was, laying on the floor with a pool of water surrounding her body while Joseline sat on top of her, knife in hand, watching her slowly die. One of the girls he spoke with last week, one of the ones he created a bond with.
“Joseline?” He spoke quietly.
The woman looked at Spencer quickly, and he saw the shift in her eyes. She was scared, “I found her here, Spencer. I promise it didn't do anything,” she cried out loud, “You don't believe I did it, do you Spencer?”
Spencer shook his head slowly, “Of course not, Joseline. I know you're not like this…”
The black haired woman stood up from the body, and grabbed the knife with force, pointing it to Spencer, “Then why are you holding your gun like that?”
“Because the killer is on the loose, Joseline. And we have to make sure they don’t hurt you,” he said, trying to step forward to her, “Come on, give me the knife and we'll solve this.”
She shook her head, “No, you know why?” Spencer shook his head, “I know you know I did it. I can see it in your eyes,” she chuckled, “And, I have my reasons. I am here unfairly. I shouldn't be here! So I decided to give them a reason to put me in this hell.”
Spencer sighed, he understood her, “Listen. I-I was in jail, not long ago. And I was accused unfairly, as well. Just like you,” Spencer put his gun down, slowly, and lifted his arm so she could see them, “But this is not the right way. I know you feel so much rage. I know how you feel because I've been there, but this is not the way.”
She looked at him, trying to cipher if he was telling the truth; If she should trust him, “I had a husband, and he cheated on me with girls like her,” she pointed to the floor where the girl laid lifeless, “That's why I'm here, because he didn't want me to interfere with his new lover. He told the police things that weren't true. I shouldn't be here, Spencer!” she cried out.
His heart ached for her, “I know that. I can help you, you just have to come with me…”
…
Spencer sighed, while he looked around. The case was over. Joseline was transferred somewhere else.
The team congratulated him for finishing the case so quickly, for doing such a good job. But he didn't feel proud, or victorious. All the way around.
He was avoiding coming home. He let his wife know that they finished the case, and he was heading home. Thirty minutes ago, meanwhile he was still on his desk at the bullpen, playing chess with himself.
He knew he needed her, he knew that he wanted to be in her arms. But, did he deserve it?
Was it bad he connected, and understood so much a serial killer? Was it okay to feel some sort of sympathy for her?
Spencer was hurt by her story of her husband. About why she did what she did, because of him. Maybe if he hadn’t done that.
Maybe if he didn't put her in prison and cheated on her.
Maybe she'd have a different life.
Maybe she would've been a good person.
Spencer sighed one more time.
It wasn't healthy, and it wasn't fair for his wife to push her away when she had been there with him all along. He needed to come home to her.
He stood up, took every little piece of the chess and put it inside the box, taking his time, and grabbed his coat and satchel walking towards the exit.
He got into his car, and played some music he knew she hears. He needed her in any shape or form. He swore he could hear her next to him singing to the lyrics. He needed to clear his thoughts before he got home because she didn't deserve it. She was probably way too worried for him to make her worry once more. He needed to get his shit together, for her.
Spencer didn't even realize when he was already parking in front of their shared home. The lights were on, and he sighed. He knew he wasn't in that prison anymore, he knew he had escaped, but he might have been free from the four walls, but the four walls stayed in his mind, and incarcerated him there. Playing and reminding him of things he had done, things he had suffered, thoughts that had crossed his mind.
He stayed in his car, holding the wheel for a few minutes before he took the courage to get out of the vehicle while he grabbed his stuff.
He slowly walked in, looking for his keys in the pockets of his pants, and putting it in the lock slowly, but before he could turn his wrist to open the door, he saw her.
The love of his life had opened the door, with a soft smile and excited eyes to see him. Spencer couldn't help but smile back, genuinely. He prepared himself to give her a fake smile, but he couldn't fake it while he was with her.
He saw down her body, she was wearing her pajamas with one of his cardigans on her, this time a small red one. He remembered that cardigan fit him perfectly before, but after he met her, and she made sure to feed the doctor with delicious homemade meals, his belly grew and the cardigan was a reminder of their love, somehow.
“Hi my love,” she spoke with a soft voice. Spencer smiled for three seconds before a pout grew in his lips and tears made their way down on his cheeks, “Oh baby,” she spoke. Quickly pulling him inside the comfort and warmth of their house, taking the stuff out of his hands and putting them somewhere else, some of them knocking the floor but all she cared about was him.
She, then, hurriedly wrapped her arms around Spencers neck, while he sobbed and whimpered into her neck, “I don't wanna come back there,” he said, through a sob.
The girl made sure to rub his back and kissed his cheek, “You won't, my love, I promise you won't. I won't allow it,” she comforted.
He sniffed, pulling slightly away from her, “The unsub. I-I connected with her, i-i felt sympathy and understood why she was killing, Angel.”
She cupped his face, “It's okay, that doesn't make you a bad person. Sometimes it's difficult not to feel some sort of sympathy when the story of why they did what they did touches your heart. That doesn't mean you support, defend or justify their actions. That only proves you're human. And it is your job to understand them, baby. That's why, because you put yourself in their shoes, that makes you great at what you do,” she said.
He nodded, taking in her words, “I don't wanna be close to prison like that again. The memories, the flashbacks, they're still here,” he lifted his index finger to make contact with his head, showing what he meant.
Spencer's wife nodded, “I know they are my love. And it will be hard for them to leave, and maybe they will never leave but that's okay because with time they will hurt less,” she softly spoke. Putting his head slightly down to kiss his temples, and forehead, her lips taking their time to part away from this part of his body.
He looked at her, there it was. With worried eyes but full of love, how could he ever run away from someone like her? No, from her specifically. The love his heart held for her was stronger than any other feeling he had felt in the past. The way she quickly made sure he was alright, without judgment, comforting him. He was in love with her, and he wanted to cry at the thought of it. The sentiment was so strong that it ached his heart in such a delicious addictive way, it was the only kind of “pain” he wanted to feel for the rest of his life.
He took in a deep,-deep as the love he felt for her-, sigh, and nodded once more at her words, “I love you,” he let out.
He saw her face shift, confusion taking place, but she smiled whatsoever, “I love you, my love,” she took his hand, and kissed softly, “Tell me what you wanna do? Could I run a bath for you? Do you want to eat or maybe-”
“I wanna go to bed. I want you to hold me,” he admitted. It had been a long journey after he was able to tell his needs.
She nodded with a smile, “Of course, let's go.”
She carefully walked in front of him, with their hands linked, guiding him to their shared bedroom. She opened the door, and pointed to the bed. He nodded, knowing what she wanted. He let go of her hand, feeling cold all of the sudden and sat on the edge of the mattress as he watched her walk to their closet.
Spencer's wife focused on picking up some comfortable clothes for him and decided for one pajama set, one of his favorites.
She smiled making her way back to him, and standing in between his legs, she quickly pressed a kiss on his forehead while taking his tie off, she placed another kiss on his eyes, nose and lips while she unbuttoned his shirt. She let it fall from his shoulder and got it off from his arms, “Arms up, my love,” she gently ordered and he obeyed, while lifting his arms that now felt heavy. The love of his life quickly placed the shirt down his body, and he relaxed his arms, then her hands lowered to his belt but he shook his head.
“I wanna do it,” he smiled, and she nodded, giving him the pajama bottom.
He watched her go to the drawer and get some socks out, mismatched for him. He smiled, feeling cared and loved, he took the socks from her hands after putting his pants that felt nice on his skin. Feeling more and more relaxed, and more at home. He put his socks on, and sat further back until his back hit the pillows.
His wife looked at him with eyes of adoration while he waited for her to join him, she quickly made her way next to him, and laid down onto her side, Spencer quickly taking his place on top of her chest, and hugging her waist, grabbing one of her hands to play with his hair, which she chuckled, and obeyed, slowly scratching his scalp, he felt the exhaustion on his eyes and his body relaxed, “You're at home. You're okay, you can sleep my love,” she whispered.
He whispered, to his world, one more time, “I love you.”
