Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: Spencer gets released from prison and decides he can no longer live another day without you by his side
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You didn’t cry in front of anyone not once. Not JJ, not Emily. Not even Garcia when she pulled you into a thousand hugs during those first few weeks after Spencer was taken into custody.
You couldn’t afford to fall apart. Because if you did who would be strong for him?
You visited every chance you could. You kept your voice steady when you spoke to him, even when his eyes looked so tired and haunted you could barely breathe. You told him about new cases, updates from Garcia, how Henry was doing in school. You wore your best smiles and never let him see the ache.
But behind closed doors , You curled up in his cardigan. You sobbed into your pillow.
You clutched the mug he used every morning like it was a lifeline.
And when you were alone in your car outside the prison, after another too short visit, you’d scream just to let it out. The fear, the rage, the heartbreak.
Because he didn’t deserve this.
And you missed him. God, you missed him so much.
When Spencer finally walked out of prison, he barely made it five feet before you were in his arms.
He’d grown thinner. Tired. But his arms still fit around you like home. You kissed his face, over and over, whispering how proud you were, how strong he’d been, how much you loved him.
“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here,” you kept whispering, like if you said it enough, you could make the pain disappear for both of you.
He didn’t say much that first day. He just kept touching you your hand, your cheek, your hair like he couldn’t believe you were real. Every time he looked away, his fingers found their way back to you. And every time you looked at him, he was already looking at you.
You stayed home for a few days after his release. The two of you didn’t leave the apartment once. You cooked for him, let him pick the shows, read together in bed. You held him when he had nightmares and never let go.
One morning, you found him standing by the window before sunrise, staring out with tears in his eyes.
You wrapped your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek into his back.
“I’m okay,” he whispered. “I just… I don’t know what to do with all this freedom. But I do know one thing.”
You turned him around slowly, hands on his waist. “What’s that?”
“I’m never letting them take me from you again.” His voice cracked. “I wasted so much time thinking I had more time. But nothing is promised.”
“I don’t have a ring,” he said quickly, nervously. “I was going to wait, to make it special. But I can’t wait anymore. I don’t want to waste another second. I need to know you’ll always be mine, because I am already yours.”
Tears welled in your eyes as your hands flew to your mouth.
“Will you marry me, right now? Today? Just us if you want, or the whole team, I don’t care. I just want to be your husband. Please?”
You knelt down in front of him, hands trembling as you cupped his face. “Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, yes, of course, Spencer. I’ve been yours for years.”
Two hours later, in Rossi’s garden you were getting married.
Garcia wore a crown of fake flowers and sobbed through the entire thing.
Rossi stood in the back with a soft smile.
You wore a simple white dress Emily had rushed to grab from her closet, and Spencer wore his best shirt the one you’d gotten him for his birthday last year.
The vows weren’t fancy. They weren’t rehearsed. They were spoken between tears and laughter, whispered promises, and forehead kisses.
When he said “I do,” Spencer looked at you like the sun had finally come out after the longest winter of his life.
And when he kissed you, you knew you’d never have to be strong alone again. Not anymore.
And you were finally his wife.
The first night in prison, Spencer lay awake with your name in his mouth like a prayer.
The bunk was hard, the air heavy. He could still feel your hug the way you held on just a second longer when they led him away. You were trying to be strong. You were always trying to be strong. He hated that he made you need to be.
He kept your face in his head like a reel. The little squint you did when you smiled. The way your hands shook when you were overwhelmed but you always pretended they weren’t. The way you kissed his temple when you thought he was asleep.
He hated that he couldn’t protect you from this.
But worse he hated that you couldn’t protect him from it either.
You came to see him every chance they let you. Dressed in neat clothes, hair pulled back, smiles in place. At first, he thought you were okay.
But Spencer had studied you too long to miss the cracks.
Your eyes were always red-rimmed. You looked thinner. Tired.
And sometimes, when you’d talk about your day, your voice would catch just slightly like you were choking on words you weren’t saying. Like I cried last night or I had a panic attack in the shower or I miss you so much it hurts to breathe.
But you smiled anyway. For him.
You were always strong. For him.
And that’s what broke his heart the most.
He counted days in letters.
You’d leave little notes tucked into books you brought him. One liners. Inside jokes. Sentences that barely filled the margins but filled his chest instead.
“I wore your cardigan all week.”
“Garcia says hi and also to tell you she cried during a cat video yesterday.”
“I love you more today than I did yesterday, somehow.”
He would lie on his bunk and reread them like scripture. Because if he thought too long about what you were going through without him if he imagined you curled up alone in your apartment, trying to breathe without breaking he wasn’t sure he’d survive it.
When they told him he was getting out, he didn’t believe it.
When they put him in clean clothes, when they walked him out the gates, his legs barely moved. Every step felt like waking from a coma.
You were standing there in a soft sweater, eyes full of tears. And suddenly the weight lifted all at once. It was over. He was free. You were real.
You threw your arms around him and kissed him like the world was ending.
He clung to you like it just started again.
Back home, he couldn’t stop touching you.
Not in a possessive way. Just… grounding. His fingers in your hair. Your palm against his chest. Knees pressed together on the couch. Your heartbeat was the only thing that kept the dizziness at bay.
That first night, when he woke up gasping, you were already sitting up beside him.
“I’ve got you,” you whispered. You were crying. “You’re safe. You’re home.”
He nodded, but the guilt curled in his chest. Because you were still carrying it all. You still weren’t sleeping. And it hit him like a flood:
He never wanted to put you through that again.
The next morning, he stood by the window and watched the sky change color. You were asleep in bed, tangled in his shirt, peaceful for once. And it was there, in that quiet, that it clicked.
He needed to make it real needed to tether himself to you in the only way he knew how. Not because he thought you’d leave. But because he needed to stay. Permanently. Legally. Eternally.
He didn’t have a ring. He didn’t have a plan. He barely had himself back together.
But he had love. And he had you.
“I don’t want to wait anymore,” he said, voice shaking as he knelt in front of you.
You gasped, eyes wide and shining.
“I want to be your husband,” he said. “Please. Let’s get married today. I can’t be away from you again. I won’t survive it.”
Tears spilled down your cheeks as you dropped to your knees and kissed him, laughing through it.
“Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, Spencer. A million times, yes.”
A few hours later, surrounded by the team, he stood in Rossi’s garden in front of you in a borrowed tie and his best shirt.
You held his hands with that same steady strength you always gave him. But now he could see the relief in your smile.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
When he said “I do,” he meant it in every way possible.
I do promise never to make you suffer alone again.
When he kissed you, he finally exhaled.
And the rest of his life could finally begin.
Spencer had been nervous walking back into the BAU after prison. But walking in with you, as his wife?
That felt… different. Softer. Full circle.
The elevator doors opened and there you were, fingers laced through his, wedding bands glinting under the fluorescent lights like tiny flashes of rebellion against everything the last year had thrown at you both.
Your badge still sat proudly on your hip. His hung newly reissued around his neck.
And your last name, now officially hyphenated with Reid, looked absolutely perfect in the updated Bureau directory.
The bullpen was already buzzing when you walked in case files being shuffled, Garcia talking a mile a minute to Luke over speakerphone but the moment JJ looked up, everything came to a halt.
“Oh my god” she gasped, standing so fast her chair rolled back.
You barely had a second to respond before she rushed around her desk and threw her arms around both of you. “You actually did it!”
“We did ,” you said, grinning. “Last night in Rossi’s garden.”
“With me crying,” Garcia added, appearing suddenly from behind a potted plant like a pastel fairy godmother. “Like, aggressively crying.”
Rossi was next. He gave Spencer a smile, followed by a firm handshake and a pat on the shoulder. “Welcome home. Both of you.”
Emily held your hands up, examining your simple, shining bands. “You two are disgustingly adorable. I hope you know that.”
“They know,” Luke said with a smirk. “They haven’t stopped smiling since they walked in.”
“We haven’t stopped smiling since the wedding,” you corrected.
Spencer just stood beside you, beaming. It was different from the smile he wore for press conferences or lectures. This was his softest smile. The one only you got to see most of the time. Except now? He didn’t care who saw it.
You were his wife. And he was proud.
Later that morning, Garcia showed up in the briefing room with a PowerPoint titled:
Operation: Welcome Back, Dr. and Agent Reid
It had confetti animations. There were cupcakes. A picture slideshow of you and Reid. JJ and Emily brought in a cake shaped like a stack of books. And someone probably Garcia hung up a ridiculous “JUST MARRIED (AND STILL BADASS FBI AGENTS )” banner across the whiteboard.
You and Spencer sat close during the meeting. His hand stayed on your thigh the entire time under the table. Every time he looked at you, he felt that swell of quiet disbelief.
You were his partner in every way now. In life. In work. In love.
After the debrief, he turned toward you with a smile. “How long do you think it’ll take them to stop making heart eyes at us?”
You grinned. “Let’s hope never.”
He leaned in and whispered, “I love you, Mrs. Reid.”
You squeezed his hand. “I love you more, Dr. Reid.”
And just like that, the world after all its chaos, its heartbreak, its time apart finally felt right again.
Because no matter how dark things had gotten, the two of you made it back.
Together. Married. Whole.Back where you belonged.
